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nobody-for-sure · 2 years

Text

Language Barrier

No keyboards were smashed in the making of this story.

Chapter 2

(~2.3k words, see chapter list here)

You should have expected this, too.

Naturally, they wouldn't speak English. They wouldn't even speak Japanese, which is what you switched the dub to when the English voices were too annoying. Why would they? If anything, they would speak Chinese, or maybe the languages of the countries they were based off of (German, for example).

"Xaue kigxm, so jogxlg o ztgi jtgzyxkjta g jxuc kxaue mtoegy" was definitely not German, or any language you'd ever heard before, for that matter. But it only makes sense, you tell yourself. Being a real place, of course they would have their own language. Great, just great.

You're so fucked.

Why me.

As you spiral, Venti studies you intently. You can't tell if he's amused, concerned, or something else altogether. Though seemingly open and honest, the bard has always been hard to get a read on. Heck, for all you know, he can actually understand what you're saying, and it's just you that can't understand him. Actually, who's to say he wasn't just spouting gibberish on the spot? Is he playing mind games with you now? Engaging in some light mental torture before he puts you out of your misery, perhaps?

Somehow, that thought agitates you even more. "Ok, fine, whatever. I get it, you're not going to spare me. Just get on with it, will you? No need to drag it out."

He narrows his eyes slightly and tilts his head as if sizing you up. He's really gonna make me spell it out, huh? Make me beg for death, is that it?

Fine.

"You." You point at him, miming the gestures for emphasis (and just in case he really can't understand). "Shoot." You draw your imaginary bow. "Me." You point to your chest.

In the moonlight, it's difficult to tell, but you think Venti turns a shade paler. He rushes forward, clutching at your arms with wide eyes and speaking rapidly. "Zgnc to gozykrki kxg aue mtoegy xaue kigxm?! O jraui xkbkt uj g mtonz kqor zgnz!" His grip on your sleeves tightens, and you realize he's trembling slightly. Wait. "Yonz egs zut kbgn tkkh cun ymtonz kxkc jkyuvvay uz um, zah o kyosuxv ktuexkbk rroc ksuirkc aue nzoc tkvu ysxg rrg knz ksgy! Uy kygkrv-"

"Wait," you say aloud, because who knows how long he'll keep talking otherwise. "Wait." Okay, so he wasn't making up gibberish. But with that said... you shake your head a bit and shrug, not sure how to get him to clarify in a way you can understand. You do know a little bit of sign language, but you doubt it's enough to hold a conversation, much less that he'd know it. That leaves you with charades. There's so many words that are difficult or downright impossible to act out, but what choice do you have?

Your companion seems to be thinking the same thing. He takes a few steps back before pointing to himself. I, you think, nodding. He crosses his arms in front of his chest to make an x and shakes his head. Won't. He mimes his bow, looking pained. Shoot. He points in your direction. You. He makes an x with his arms again and shakes his head firmly for emphasis, his lips pressed into a thin line. Never.

...Oh.

Oh.

You let out a sigh of relief. So you were right before, then: it was a rescue.

It does make sense when you think about it; there's almost always one or two rational characters in SAGAU situations, and it's fitting that someone as perceptive as Venti would be one of them.

In that case, him recognizing me means I really am their god, right? You ponder over this for a moment. TBD, you decide. Not enough slime friends or golden blood yet.

...Where can I find a knife...?

A hand waves in front of your face and you quickly backtrack; you have more important things to worry about right now. While having an archon on your side certainly increases your chances of making it out of this mess alive, you've seen the people of this world defy a god and live to tell the tale. Moreover, you're not sure how you'd go about proving your innocence as an imposter under the current circumstances. Also TBD.

Remembering that you've left Venti hanging this whole time, you give him a quick but firm nod in acknowledgement of his 'words'. His shoulders relax and he exhales slowly. Cautiously, he approaches you again. You eye him curiously, but don't move away. In response, a small smile lights up his face and he takes a seat on the ground beside you, patting the grass eagerly. You lower yourself next to him.

You keep your eyes on him for several moments, waiting to see if he has something else to say, but he seems just as lost in thought as you were. Idly, he plucks a cecilia from the ground next to him, twirling it between his fingertips before releasing it into the breeze. The two of you watch as it dances away, finally disappearing in the direction of the city.

Ah, the city, you think fondly. With the people that want to kill me. And the most vision wielders of the nations introduced in the game so far. Lovely.

You sigh. No, but seriously, what am I gonna do?

You have so many questions. How did you get here, and why? Will you ever return to your world, or are you stuck here forever? Normally the thought would be more appealing, but under the circumstances, well... it spoke for itself.

The statue you saw in the city is a definitive indication of the presence of a Divine Creator (or whatever they want to call it) in this universe, so you're confident in your assessment that this is a SAGAU. (Or... just SAG.) Is that really me? Venti seems to think so. And more importantly, is there already someone posing as me, who will order their loyal acolytes to hunt me down to the ends of Teyvat, yada yada? Or are they doing that on their own, since someone as plain and boring as me couldn't possibly be their god?

So many questions, and no way to find out the answers to any of them. Even supposing you enlist Venti's help, charades will only get you so far, and there's no guarantee some of the answers you're seeking even exist in the first place. How long can I survive like this?

The sound of a plucked string resounds, distracting you from your inner turmoil. You look over to see a knowing expression on the bard's face, one that dissolves into an airy chuckle when you furrow your brows. Composing himself, he plucks the same string again, before moving his fingers gracefully across the strings of his lyre to a melody you've heard a thousand times, one you'd recognize anywhere.

For a moment, you're surprised. But the music is familiar and soothing, and you can't help but start to relax hearing it. It can't hurt, right? If the fics have taught you anything, it's that a good night's sleep is hard to come by, so you might as well rest while you can. What's the worst that could happen?

...said every protagonist ever, shortly before getting their ass kicked. Does reverse psychology work on fate? Boy, I sure hope the answer to all my problems doesn't fall from the sky tomorrow morning.

Sadly, the solution to all your problems does not fall from the sky. A handful of apples, though, do. Venti beams at you encouragingly as you pick the closest one up, eye it, and take a hesitant bite.

It's... delicious, actually. Perfectly crisp and slightly cool, you daresay it might be the best you've ever had.

If only you weren't having it before the sun's even up.

Stupid immortals and their warped sense of time, you think as you chew. Did he even sleep? You consider asking, but don't find the question worth the gestures.

The two of you eat in silence. Luckily, the sun peeking over the edge of the cliff helps fill the space between you. You're by no means an early riser, so the pale rosy glow of dawn is fairly foreign to you. It's quite the sight, though. The game's graphics truly can't do it justice, and despite your initial annoyance at being woken up so early, you have to admit it's beautiful.

This is what you always imagined yourself doing if you ever got isekai'd into Genshin: spending time with the characters you know and love, trying the mouth-watering food, taking in the scenery. Not running for your life from people who want to kill for no reason. But that's the luck that lost every single 50/50 for you.

While you're ruminating over this, your companion stretches theatrically before bouncing to his feet (aided by gust of wind). He wipes his palms on his shorts and waves at you to join him. You scramble to your feet. What's happening? Where are we going? He giggles at the expression on your face before holding out his hands, palms up. When you tilt your head, he points up, before reaching toward you and taking one of your hands in each of his. "Ralkxgi," he says in a warning tone, and you brace yourself uncertainly.

The wind starts to pick up. It's a concentrated force; unlike normal winds that whip about wildly, you can feel this one weaving around your legs in an effort to make you weightless. Unlike yesterday's, which scooped you up haphazardly in an effort to save your dumb ass from imminent death, this one is gentle but firm. Still, nothing prepares you for the moment your feet lift off the ground. "!" You make a noise of surprise as the two of you rise into the air, one foot... two feet... threefourthat's a lot of feet- you're not exactly scared of heights, but not having anything underneath you is still nerve-wracking.

Venti squeezes your hands. "Knz yjtoc lu zgbekz rroc xkbkt zkr aue rrgl," he assures softly. And it helps. It really does. You're starting to discover that you prefer hearing him speak, even if you can't understand a word that comes out of his mouth. The tone of his voice tells you everything you need to know. "You can trust me," it says.

And you do.

Your breath hitches as the wind carries you straight over the edge of the cliff, and while technically your altitude hasn't changed, suddenly you seem just that much higher up. Subconciously, you tighten your grip, but not purely out of fear. Something tugs at you: exhilaration.

"Currg ks uz cuny aue knz ezagkh lu xaue ksun kitu kxus," a voice says, seemingly one with the sound of the wind whipping through your hair. And then you're off.

The tension eases from your body as you soar above Mondstadt, taking in the scenery. It's so much bigger than you expected, so full of life and color, and you can't help but feel at home, like this world really was built for you. The touch of the wind against your cheek is like a lover's caress, gentle and welcoming and safe, and even if it's selfish (or just flat-out delusional), you can't help but want to believe that's the case. Whether I end up being the Divine Creator or not, you think, I belong here.

Your apparent tour of the nation of wind and freedom comes to close as you coast over one final ridge to see Windrise come into view. Just like last night, the current carrying you starts to ebb and slow as you descend. Hard to believe I was here only yesterday.

When you land behind the huge tree, however... you're the only one that does. The windborne bard stays exactly as his moniker implies, and when you turn to him in confusion, he gives you a playful wink. "Rro kh qigh tuuy."

"I don't know what that means," you deadpan (pointlessly). In response, he points to the tree. You turn your head, see nothing out of the ordinary, and look back to see he's vanished from sight. "Hey, what the fuck-" You hear shuffling from the other side of the tree, and you scramble over the giant roots, trying to catch him. Placing one hand on the trunk, you confidently round the corner to see...

...not Venti.

You stiffen.

Very much not Venti.

Oh shit, oh fuck, where'd he go, wehavetogetoutofhere-

In front of the tree, three equally surprised faces stare back at you: an outrider, a librarian, and the Acting Grand Master herself.

Of the four of you, Amber recovers first. "Xaue kigxm!" she exclaims with, with, is that... relief? Her eyes light up as she rushes over to you, and you're in too much shock to move as she tentatively grasps your arms and gives you an obvious once-over. Behind her, you can see Lisa gently rest a hand on Jean's shoulder, which seems to snap the knight out of her daze. She moves to approach you as well, but stops a few feet away. She clears her throat softly but pointedly, and Amber shoots you a hasty smile before backing away.

Grey-blue eyes meet yours, and their owner plants her sword into the ground reverently as she sinks easily to one knee. "Zo yo es kxaygkrv jtg es ezaj uz ksuirkc xaue krhgxutun kigxm uz zjgzyjtus." With a bright smile, Amber follows suit, while Lisa places a hand over her chest and offers you something similar to a curtsy.

It occurs to you then that maybe...

...maybe I should stop reading so many fanfics.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin sagau #genshin venti #genshin amber #genshin jean #genshin lisa #lbbynfs

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max1461 · 2 years

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So the core idea behind local democracy is, as far as I see it, basically the same as the idea some radfems gesture at when they say "men shouldn't be able to vote on laws about abortion because it's a women's issue" and so forth. The principle is that we should minimize how much people can impose on each other's lives, through the government or otherwise. Letting people who are not affected by a given policy vote on that policy just gives them the power to push other people around unduly. If you don't live in Alabama, why should you get to be part of deciding what the laws are in Alabama? If you don't have a uterus, why should you get to be part of deciding what the laws are for a uterus?

In principle, I like this idea. I've referred to it as "minimally obtrusive government" before. If the function of the state is to solve coordination problems, then it seems reasonable to say it should aim to do so in a way that doesn't bring extraneous new agents into the given coordination problem being addressed. Or something to that general effect.

I think this is also why the idea of national self-determination often looks appealing to people who don't have nationalist sympathies per se. Even if the British empire integrated all its former colonies under a democratic framework with full voting rights for everyone, you might still object "why should people in Britain get to be part of deciding how people in Kenya live? They don't live in Kenya!"

The problem, of course, is that determining "who is affected by what" is extremely tricky business. To some degree, basically everyone is affected by everything. A location-based heuristic still looks ok sometimes—what goes on in some tiny town in Alaska doesn't have much impact on what goes on in some tiny town in Uzbekistan. But sometimes it doesn't, like when wealthy London boroughs block the creation of public transit lines through their territory, preventing construction of shorter routes that would have been of benefit to the people on both sides. As the world globalizes, I suspect the location heuristic will get worse and worse.

Beyond that, whoever gets to draw the boundaries of "who is affected by what" has enormous power. Gerrymandering is sort of a special case of this, but you can imagine that if the government actually implemented some identity-restricted voting system (along modern "woke" lines or any others), you'd get "conceptual Gerrymandering" just as pernicious. And of course whoever got to draw the initial boundaries would be deciding the fate of society going forward in a very significant way that not everyone might agree with.

The two extreme cases on either side of this question are "centralized world democracy", where everyone gets a say on every issue, and "total anarchy", where no one gets a say on the behavior of anyone else. Of course, that's only on a naive reading. Under total anarchy, you could use your total freedom to gather up some followers and weapons and go oppress the guys next to you; under world democracy you can of course employ various methods to affect what gets voted on in the first place and protect your "local" interests this way. In effect we're always striking some balance between "other people can tell you what to do" and "other people can't tell you what to do", no matter the government system we have.

But still, I like this principle. I like the idea that we try to prevent democracy from being used as a cudgel (intentionally or unintentionally) by which people can unfairly impose on each other from afar. But designing a system that does it well is really, really, maybe impossibly tricky.

#society

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deluluass · 3 years

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could yoy do please some yandere kuroo and kageyama headcanons? 💕

nsfw is welcomed 😊

My first headcanons 🤞🏽

Yandere! Kuroo Tetsuro

Content warnings: markers of a toxic/emotionally abusive relationship; dumbification; daddy kink; sex toy(s); mild public play/exhibitionism

😇SFW😇

This boy has a fascination for messy people.

And by "messy", I mean that Kuroo has a soft spot for those who put up some sort of front. A performative mask to hide their crumbling psyche.

Oh.

Those are his favorites. (Especially when they're not even aware that they’re hiding something.)

Maybe it's because they're so easy to manipulate? (Or perhaps it's a mild case of schadenfreude?)

It's the instigator in him.

He knows which buttons to push and at what time to exactly do it.

Kuroo lives for being that guy who causes a full blown fight by simply dropping a backhanded comment or two.

For being the final straw that eventually breaks the proverbial camel's back.

And then slipping back into the shadows to watch the Drama unfold.

So it's not unlikely for him to form an obsession for someone who's so emotionally vulnerable.

Someone who has the weight of the world on their shoulders; who has everything locked up inside to the point of bursting.

Because then it won't take much to have them falling apart and unraveling before him.

But he's also a caretaker, you know.

He's opportunistic and covertly callous and mischievous, yes.

But you've seen how much he tends to those close to him.

So when you do fall apart, you will do it in his arms.

He will take care of you.

He'll say everything you've always wanted to hear.

You're beautiful and wanted and loved and you don't have to be brave anymore.

Kuroo's here and he understands you.

From the barest changes in your inflection to your most subtle facial expression.

Other people won't catch it.

To Kuroo, though? Tell-tale signs that you're hiding your feelings again.

He understands you in a way that no else had; that no else cared to try.

And eventually that’ll be the very thing that you’ll hold onto.

Never mind that his every word has become an indisputable fact (when it shouldn’t be).

Never mind that the line between Kuroo just being a mindful boyfriend AND Kuroo disregarding your boundaries has become too blurry that it’s impossible to tell which is which.

Never mind that your entire world has narrowed down to just him and you.

Because all your friends have, one by one, made their way for the exit.

They tell you that they're so tired.

They've warned you- begged you, actually- to end this insidiously suffocating relationship.

"I know he's only been nice to you and to us, but there's just...something wrong about that guy," they say.

But until they pinpoint, exactly, what that "something wrong" is; and until you see it for yourself, you're sticking by his side.

Damn whatever people say.

So.

Kuroo's not the yandere who'd chain you up in his basement or something.

Not that he's above it, but because he doesn't really need to.

Not when he has you bound right where it really matters.

😈NSFW😈

Kuroo has perfected being a dom down to a Science.

He knows exactly when to be mean and hurtful and sweet and kind and giving to you.

Kuroo's very generous, methinks! But only if he believes you deserved it.

So you better prove that you earned it!!

He'll having you cumming and gushing into his hand if you pleaded just enough!!

Looked into his eyes all pouty and teary and pliant to all his wishes.

Very into treating you and talking to you like you're not capable of comprehending words.

Oh, darling. I know I'm hurting you. I know I am. But you like it, don't you? That's right. Fuck yeah, you do, you fucking slut.

That's because you're just a dumb little baby, aren't you? You'd be happy as long as daddy makes you cum?

And you'd nod and say yes so obediently as he pounds your little hole even though you can't hear him over the sound of your own moans.

ALSO!!!

HE IS A TEASE!!!!

A FUCKINGN!!!!!!!!! TEASE!!!!

Every seggsy time is edging time!!

Has a thing for slapping your ass until your cheeks are bruised and tender under his palms.

And for sticking a vibrator inside you while you're out in public.

Just to teach you a lesson whenever he feels like you're not learning enough.

"Do you want me to come back until you're ready?" the waiter droned, obviously suppressing the urge to roll his eyes when all you did was grip the napkin in front of you.

You couldn't even look at poor kid; couldn't even make out a sound. You're too busy stifling the tingling within your walls, prompting you to cross your legs beneath the table and squeeze your thighs together.

And Kuroo's just...scanning the menu. Sitting idly before you. He's resting his chin against his open palm, long fingers brushing under his nose, while you're practically grinding down the chair.

You feel yourself leak into the crotch of your underwear, sticky liquid squelching against the crack of your ass as the toy continued to vibrate, burning you up and melting your insides, the buzzing a white noise only you could hear.

His indifference was unflappable. Kuroo even managed to call out, "Excuse me. Sorry about that earlier. We're ready now," so smoothly despite your desperate attempts to catch his attention. Then, he recited a bunch of dishes that you didn’t have the appetite for. Like you’re not outright writhing and earning a few disconcerted looks from the table next to you.

All you wanted was for him to put an end to this. You've learned your lesson. You're not gonna disappoint him again.

Instead, you watched in agonizing fear as he reached for his pocket. And immediately, without a warning, you felt the toy shake violently inside you.

"Ah!" you cried, sharply folding your arms and legs, making the plates and utensils clink against each other as your wrists chafed against your hard nipples.

Your boyfriend halted, leaned closer, and looked at you in a convincing display of concern.

"Are you alright, babe?" he muttered, caressing your knee, his nails pressing down just a tad. Not too hard. Just enough for you to hiss in a heady mixture of pleasure and pain.

You managed a small, quivering "uh-huh" as you begged him with your eyes. Conveying as much message as you could.

"Daddy, I'll be good for you. I swear. I won't lie anymore. I won't make you angry. I won't do anything that you wouldn't be happy about. Everything I do from this moment on will be just for you, daddy. I promise, daddy-"

But Kuroo only huffed out, a small, faint grin tracing his lips as he turned back to the waiter and said, "One cream pie, please."

Yandere! Kageyama Tobio

Content warning(s): rape/noncon

😇SFW😇

Fourth wall break, if you will: thank you, anon, for putting these characters together because I Believe that they’re each other’s foils in terms of yandere-isms. And this is gonna be an interesting contrast to see (at least, I hope it would be).

So Kuroo’s all subdued mind games, right? Like, you have to do a whole routine of mental gymnastics if you want to dig deep and analyze how he had your head spinning.

But Kageyama?

Kageyama says fuck that.

Kageyama, genius though he is, is about as subtle as a metal bat to the head when it comes to his darling.

He has no qualms about tying you to his bed once the opportunity presents itself to him.

But it didn’t start out like that.

At first, perhaps Kageyama was just an aloof classmate whose entire life revolved around volleyball.

The one who couldn’t even take a time out of his day to hang out with the rest of the class on a weekend.

Though Kageyama has a knack for attracting hostility from other people, there comes a time (rare it may be) that it is offset by people who are sympathetic to his idiosyncrasies.

His darling falls under the latter.

That's what draws Kageyama to you.

Hearing stuff like "D'you know what they used to call him before? King!" and "King because he's an arrogant dickhead who thinks he's better than everyone" are not new to him.

But hearing these are: "Stop that. It's rude to talk behind a person's back."

"Kageyama's passionate about volleyball. More than anyone we've ever met. Ok so it's alienating for us! Whatever! But isn't it admirable that he's doing his best at a thing that he loves?"

Kageyama did not get it.

You're not his teammate.

You're not his..anything.

You had no cause to try and be nice to him and defend him and..understand him, really.

So the rest was history.

The beginning might have been awkward.

Every time he tried to talk to you, Kageyama, for some reason, always blurted out the wrong things.

But you didn't mind. You just liked being his friend.

And Kageyama liked having you by his side.

Kageyama liked it, especially, when you're in the sidelines and cheering him on. (This caused quite a ruckus in Karasuno.)

It should have been weird. Kageyama had not known anything else besides volleyball.

Your presence should’ve been that of a stranger encroaching on someone else’s property.

Somehow, though, you fitted in so perfectly.

Like you’re made to be there.

So he tells you: “You’re free, aren’t you? You should be watching me play by now” and “You should be waiting for me after class” and “Stop making excuses. You’re not tired. You can still drop by practice”

You’ve tried to reason with him. (Even contemplated about ending your friendship.)

But it’s not like you’re ever gonna shake him off.

Besides, you know that he wouldn’t accept anything less than perfect.

😈NSFW😈

His darling was his first sexual experience.

And like any beginner, Kageyama was pretty...uh..bad at it ngl.

Add that to the fact that he’s on the bigger side and your first with him wasn’t consensual.

At that time, all Kageyama knew was that he really, really wanted to touch you and kiss you and fuck you senseless until you acknowledge that there’s no running from him.

Trust, though, that Kageyama will not settle for being bad or, heaven forbid, mediocre at it.

Nope.

Not. a. chance.

Doesn’t matter that you’ve spent the entire day fucking.

Kageyama will not rest- not let you rest, until he drags out a moan from you; until you’ve ruined the sheets with how much he’s made you cum; until he has you begging for more.

Will experiment a lot.

Will test out how fast and hard he has to fuck you to get what kind of reaction he wants from you.

Very attentive even to your quietest gasp.

If you so much as show a sign that you’re finding whatever it is he’s doing to your body pleasurable- curl your toe or arch your back- Kageyama will amp it up to the point where you’re screaming.

He’ll have this haughty, shit-eating grin while doing it too.

“Yes, you can,” Kageyama growled. “Spread those legs and show me how you do it.”

You shook your head, your body protesting at the slight movement. You’re already on the verge of blacking out. And you don’t have to check the ticking wall clock to know that, by now, Kageyama, too, should be knocked out and dozing off beside you.

But he only grabbed your wrists, making you howl in pain as soon as he touched the cuts and bruises across the skin. Remnants of the nylon rope that bound them together not too long ago.

“Touch yourself,” he repeated.

Kageyama’s voice is a rasping noise to your ears, his hot breath causing goosebumps all over you as he pressed his lips against the shell.

“No-no more, Kag-Kageyama,” you forced yourself to say, though your throat was dry and aching from all your screeching.

He clicked his tongue.

You flinched.

And you didn’t think it possible for Kageyama to be more frightening than he already is. Until you’d done as he’d told and, like a wolf patiently waiting to pounce, Kageyama zeroed in on how you moved your hands, his own reaching for his cock.

He didn’t take his eyes off of you, groaning as you trembled and mewled under your featherlight touch. Kageyama stroked himself, grinding into his fist until pre-cum dripped from the head.

“That how you like it, huh,” he croaked.

Before you could even reach an orgasm, Kageyama had already pushed you on your back, mimicking the way you pleasured yourself. Only this time it was rougher, more unforgiving, and indifferent to your cries of “Stop! Stop it, I can’t- Enough, Kageyama!”

#tw non con haikyuu #yandere headcanons #dark content haikyuu #yandere kuroo #yandere kageyama #yandere haikyuu #tw noncon #y/n's gender is not specified

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melonthesprigatito · 2 years

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What If: Rhyme caught a cold

Ok, so I just had this idea pop into my head and I wanna write it down before I forget because it's really cute and involves a lot of bad guy found family/friendship.

For starters, Rhyme and Reason share a bed in their secret lair. Not for any romantic reason, they're just too broke to afford a second bed. Plus, its kind of a big bed so they have plenty of space. One morning, Reason wakes up and notices that he's alone. Which is unusual. Reason is and always has been an early riser because he's the sort of guy who wants to make the most of his day and get a practical start instead of lying in bed all day. Meanwhile Rhyme is a super heavy sleeper. That super speed expends a whole lot of energy so she kinda just collapses into bed at the end of the day and sleeps in super late. The fact that Rhyme is up before him is highly unusual.

The second thing he notices is that it's super cold. Like, REALLY super cold. It's as if someone left a window open all night in the depths of winter. Which is impossible because their lair is an underground bunker they just found and stuck a mailbox outside of.

So Reason kinda panics, you know. Rhyme doesn't normally lose control of her powers unless something very bad has happened. He puts on his slippers and the floor is just covered in crunchy frost. Which leaves footprints, fortunately. And Rhyme's is still fresh. So he follows them out of the bedroom, through the living room, where he notices that the sofa is missing and the drag lines in the frost along with Rhyme's footprints leads to the panic room.

The panic room is a completely bare room vault like room where they usually store their stolen goods, except today it's completely empty, except for Rhyme, who is huddled on the sofa in the middle of the room, bundled in several half frozen blankets, slightly delirious and she's shivering very badly. The walls, ceiling, floor, basically the entire room is coated in thick sheets of ice. Rhyme sneezes and Reason barely avoids being frozen solid. Because when Rhyme gets a cold, its literally cold. As her body temperature drops, the air temperature around her drops. And sneezing + frost breath? Not a great combination.

Rhyme basically woke up with a cold in the early hours of the morning, so she got out of bed, dragged the sofa into the panic room and slept there for the rest of the night because she didn't want to hurt Reason or damage their belongings.

Reason immediately brings her more blankets and her favourite stuffed plushie, Pengy Wengy and he heats her up a bowl of her favourite chicken soup, which he gently encourages her to eat.

Rhyme is whimpering and has huge, sad eyes the entire time because she doesn't want him to stay near her in case she accidentally freezes him or he catches her illness. But Reason refuses to abandon his friend when she needs him.

Reason realises that there's a Villain's Society Meeting today and he's worried that they might get in trouble for not attending, so he calls in sick.

He makes a post on the Evil Villains Society Message Board:

ReasonableJellyGuy: Hey guys, sorry, we can't attend the Villains Society Meeting today. Rhyme caught a really bad cold and I can't leave her all by herself.

ChuckTheSandwichMaster37: Oh no! Is she ok????🥺

ReasonableJellyGuy: She's fine, but she's accidentally turned our lair into a winter wonderland. I gave her some soup and I'm trying to keep her warm.

Reason is shocked when his inbox suddenly explodes with "Get well soon!" comments from pretty much every villain. They all offer up their own suggestions for various remedies that worked on them when they were sick.

MeMyselfAndI: What about giving her some fresh air? Have you tried, given that a shot, and attempted that yet?

AButcherAndHisCat: My dad used to make me wear a potato necklace when I was sick because it draws out the toxins or something. It works, I swear!

QuestioningLady????: Are you sure that really works? Are you sure it's not just the placebo effect?

AButcherAndHisCat: I don't know about any place bows or whatever you said but it worked for me.

CHEEEEEESE: Guys, you're missing the obvious solution! Cheese solves everything!

Things only get better when the villains all band together and visit Rhyme and Reason's place to help her get better. Some of them even cancelled their scheduled robbery for that day to help out. They all come baring supplies; socks, blankets, first aid kits and various foodstuff.

Chuck tries to feed her sandwiches, because in his opinion, you get better sooner if you have the energy from a full stomach.

Lady Redundant Woman brings an orange, a tangerine and a clementine to boost her Vitamin C.

The Butcher, Big Left Hand Guy, and Mr Big pull together and manage to move the bed from the bedroom to the panic room to give Rhyme a more comfortable place to lie down.

Leslie brings a whole bunch of bunny blankets. Rhyme ends up wrapped in more layers than a Pass The Parcel gift.

Dr Two Brains has to be physically wrestled away from the bed before he can feed Rhyme the cheese he brought. Reason very, very gently breaks it to him that Rhyme doesn't really like cheese so that wouldn't really help her get better, but thank you for trying. Two Brains is appalled.

The Whammer tries to clear away the ice on the walls to give Rhyme more room because every time she sneezes she just adds another layer of ice to the walls.

The Whammer:

"WHAM!"

Reason: "I appreciate your help, but could you say your whams a little quieter because Rhyme's trying to rest, pls."

The Whammer: "wham"

Reason: "Thank you."

To the absolute shock of everyone, Mrs McCallister shows up. She heard from Tobey that this poor girl was sick and her Mom Instincts™ kicked into high gear. She starts directing all the villains on what to do and they're all like "Yes, ma'am." because Tobey's mom scares even the most hard hearted of bad guys. Once she's made absolutely sure Rhyme is alright, she tells everyone to leave because Rhyme needs to sleep and she's not going to be able to do that if there's a bunch of people in her house. Everybody says goodbye and says that they hope Rhyme gets well soon. Rhyme manages to say a weak "Thank you...!" as they exit. Mrs McCallister gives Reason her phone number and tells him that he can call her if they need anymore help.

At the end of the day Rhyme does feel a little bit better. At the next Villains Society Meeting, everyone is happy to see her again. Rhyme and Reason are super touched, because they've never really experienced that level of kindness from other villains before so Rhyme organises a small party, using her (thankfully back to normal) frost breath to serve everyone chilled drinks as thanks for when they all came together to help her and Reason in their hour of need.

#wordgirl headcanons #word girl rhyme and reason #word girl #wordgirl villains #melon's ramblings

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rq-described · 3 years

Note

hey is it ok if i ask for a bit of advice with writing ids? /gen. i've seen quite a few posts about people over-describing in their ids, and i have a feeling that i do that (i tend to overcomplicate everything i do skdsksjd). what kind of information is unnecessary in an id that i can try to cut out in future? thank you so much!

Hello! It’s totally okay to come to us with questions, we’re always happy to try and help!

To be completely honest this topic is something that a lot of us are still working on. The line between under and over-describing can be a bit hard to place, especially since it differs depending on the piece, and the person using the IDs. It’s impossible to make it perfect for everyone, but here are some tricks we’ve found helpful.

1) Ask yourself what the purpose of the piece is.

Art showing off a character design will have very different priorities than a comic or a meme. A drawing of a character just standing in a cool outfit suggests more in depth descriptions of their design whereas a long action filled comic should center the action or dialogue. Trying to describe characters and actions in the same part when a piece has multiple characters and/or significant action will often bog it down.

For example writing:

"X enters the room. They have blonde hair and pale freckled skin, and they wear a sweater vest over a white collared shirt and a pair of dangly cherry earrings. They are drawn from the waist up. They say to Y, 'What’s up?'"

doesn’t flow as well as writing:

“X enters the room and says to Y, 'What’s up?’”

Understanding the purpose of the piece often means being succinct for the sake of comedic timing, too. Putting the punchline of a comic in the middle of a paragraph of description makes it less impactful than saving it until the end, and breaking up dialogue with several sentences describing a background or outfit means people may lose the thread of the comic.

This doesn’t necessarily mean you can’t describe the character design if you can find a way to significantly shorten the description or include it separately. We’ll go over one possible way of including them in the line breaks section.

2) When dealing with complex settings, backgrounds, or clusters of items, ask yourself what needs to be described individually, and what can be generalized.

Complex and/or cluttered surroundings can get incredibly wordy when describing each component as it’s own thing. If certain components are not individually important to the viewer’s understanding the piece, generalizing or sometimes even leaving them out can significantly cut down on words. For example, writing:

“A mahogany shelf sits above his head. On it sits a blue mug with a spoon sticking out, a ceramic container filled with utensils, and a set of salt and pepper shakers.”

is significantly wordier than writing:

“A shelf holding various utensils and kitchen items sits above his head.”

Sometimes you can bear to cut individual details entirely if they aren’t particularly relevant to understanding the image. For example, if describing a drawing of characters at the beach, and there’s a buoy in the ocean way out in the distance, you probably don’t need to describe it unless it plays an active role in the piece.

3) When describing the appearances of characters, keep in mind what features are important to understanding the artist’s depiction.

Certain aspects of a character’s appearance can say a lot about how the artist wants them to be interpreted. Things like body frame, hair and clothing style, and especially race can vary drastically by artist, and in result change how the character is understood.

Other things like eye color, nose shape, or specific body proportions often do not change the general understanding of the character, and can cause the character description to become bloated. They typically should not be included.

There are certainly exceptions to this however, for example, if a character has unnatural features like glowing eyes or a snout, it changes how the character is meant to be perceived and should be described.

4) Play around with line breaks.

Sometimes pieces are just too complex to avoid having a long description. In order to make sure all important details are included while also including action, consider breaking the description up into chunks. Putting the action first and then writing out the character designs allows the people who want to know what’s going on in the image but don’t particularly care about designs to skip to the next post after the first paragraph, while still providing the descriptions for the people who do.

5) Be aware of what your audience already knows.

When there’s a reasonable expectation that your audience might already know something, it’s okay to use some shorthand. This comes up often when describing memes.

For example, writing:

The Spiderman pointing at himself meme, where one Spiderman is labeled X and the other is labeled Y.

is much more succinct than writing:

A screencap of a cartoon. Two people in identical Spiderman costumes are standing in front of an NYPD vehicle, with one facing away from the viewer and one facing toward the viewer. They are both pointing at each other in identical poses. The Spiderman facing away from the viewer is labeled X in white text. The Spiderman facing toward the viewer is labeled Y in white text.

You’re writing for an audience of Tumblr users, so you can assume most Tumblr users are familiar with the meme. If they aren’t, you’ve given them enough information to look up more about it.

This is also something to consider when describing fanart. Most podcast characters by nature don’t have canonical appearances, so the choice of how to portray a character is often intentional on the part of the artist and something worth paying attention to when considering the purpose of a piece. This isn’t the case for all media, though, and re-describing characters with canonical appearances over and over again isn’t necessary unless those appearances differ significantly from the norm.

We hope this was able to help! If anyone sees this and would like to add anything, please feel free to do so, and as always, if you have any more questions, feel free to reach out.

~The Mods

#not rq #not id #accessibility resources

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you-cant-spell-subtext-without · 4 years

Text

ahdflksjaklf;jsls ok buddies - I hate talking about 14x13: Lebanon, but it has relevancy in the “John Winchester is a villain and cannot and should not be redeemed” discourse as well as being a crucial piece of finale denialist lore so I Have Been Thinking About It Too Much.

As you may recall, the Occult Object of the Week - the pearl - in Lebanon is supposed to grant Dean’s “heart’s desire.” Dean and Sam are Very Sure this means expelling Michael (the Dean Winchester Must Be Saved installment of season 14) (honestly that premise always seemed a little slim to me, I was hoping for Dean’s heart’s desire to be Cas, on Dean’s car, naked, covered in bees).

Instead they summon Dad of the Year, which at first feels infuriating. However after discussion with my earworms, I Have Fixed It (and also turned it into a grenade to launch at 15x20.)

Finale denialists and John Winchester derogatorians ASSEMBLE! and let’s discuss after the cut.

I’ve written in depth about Dean’s struggles with the cycle of abuse, so I won’t go too far into it here, but if you want to revisit any of that meta this is a good place to begin. This post hinges on the same theory - that Dean’s true freedom is established in his release from that cycle - that is the logical outcome of any hero’s journey for him, and where he would finally be able to accept happiness and love. This logically would also make release from the cycle of abuse and the feelings of self-hatred Dean struggles with his “heart’s desire” for purposes of the pearl. When it comes to emotions, we also know Dean doesn’t deal with them well. He punches things instead. So odds are, Dean hasn’t really worked through these feelings.

Dean also mentions when John returns that “it was what [Dean] wanted since he was 4″ - when they lost Mary, right before John became obsessed with revenge. Season 12 Mary canonically remembers John as a “good dad,” so we can draw a line from that to the abuse really starting shortly after her death. This is also corroborated by Dean himself:

DEAN: You know when you died, it changed Dad.

(A visual of the John Mary remembers) (just my excuse to put pictures of Matt Cohen on your dash) (I shouldn’t need an excuse) (Matt Cohen hi you are on Tumblr please don’t read any of this I’m embarrassed).

So what Dean has is pre-Mary’s-death John and post-Mary’s-death John, post-Mary’s-death John being the one whose abuse created Dean’s own damaged persona. Dean thinks the fix is to stop things on the front end (he is ignoring any process-centered solution, he just wants it to never have happened, he is in denial that he has to work through this and just wants it to be erased, etc etc etc).

***also keep in mind that going back in time to change things on the front end as a “fix it” is a storyline SPN repeats regularly***

***and it always ends up being impossible to do***

Ok so for Dean, his damage/anger/brutal nature/darkness is always linked to John, and this cycle “began” for Dean once their family was torn apart by Mary’s death. So the fix is his “blood family” together. That’s his heart’s desire in Lebanon because Dean hasn’t really worked through any of his emotions, and it’s his very Dean way of fixing it - “oh if my family gets put back together I will be put back together too.”

***speaking of quick fixes, I’d like to note that any case in SPN that is referred to as a “milk run” inevitably becomes complicated and messy***

***continuing the thematics of there’s no such thing as a quick fix***

This is no different. Stopping the cycle by simply erasing it from the narrative erases anything else that happened along the way during the journey. It erases this Mary (who they know as a person by this point and not just the mom on a pedestal)

and (most importantly) it erases this Cas (the episode specifically replaces Cas with one who Doesn’t Know Dean).

We Emphasize This Of Course In The Dialogue In Case You Missed It

DEAN Cas, you know us. ALTERNATE CAS I don’t know you.

***Simply erasing the origin of Dean’s trauma erases all of Dean’s growth. It erases this family that Dean is so proud to tell John he has now. It erases everything he has already overcome despite how hard it was to achieve it.

So, John goes back. In that way, the pearl does give Dean his heart’s desire - his realization that this is not about a quick fix, it is about the journey to the good, and all you gain and become along the way (kind of similar to “Happiness isn't in the having. It's in just being. It's in just saying it" eh?). it’s the process. It’s every moment along the way. It’s the people who help him get there.

And then he starts the healing journey by taking control of his own life, by owning his feelings instead of displacing the blame, by recognizing he is NOT guided solely by the actions of his father and this cycle:

DEAN

And for the longest time, I blamed Dad. I mean, hell, I blamed Mom, too, you know? I was angry. But say we could send Dad back knowing everything. Why stop there? Why not send him even further back and let some other poor sons of bitches save the world? But here’s the problem. Who does that make us? Would we be better off? Well, maybe. But I gotta be honest – I don’t know who that Dean Winchester is.

And the episode fucking ends with Cas, the Cas Who Knows Them coming into the bunker and asking them what happened, calling each of them by name just to emphasize again That He Knows Them, because Cas knowing Dean, and Cas being Dean’s family is the cornerstone of what Dean’s heart desires.

[CAS walks in from the door at the top of the stairs. SAM, DEAN and MARY walk out from the library to see him.]

CAS Mary, Sam, Dean. What happened?

So yeah, it took 14 damn seasons but Lebanon is where Dean realizes he can be defined by more than the acts of his father. (That’s why it’s so terrifying for Dean when Chuck snatches back any control he gained in Season 15. Because for Dean, Chuck is just John Winchester Controls My Every Action all over again, except he’s God which makes it even worse.)

That’s also why the final blow to Chuck is not Dean killing him.

The last stage in the journey that begins here with Dean’s “I’m good with who I am” - [I’m still bad and dark and damaged but I’m good with it]

is Dean’s “that’s not who I am.” [the most caring man on Earth; the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know]

Thats equally why 15x18 is so brilliant, 15x19 is at least acceptable, and 15x20 simply does. not. work.

Dean Winchester’s perfect heaven cannot possibly center on the blood family. It does not have John Winchester and Mary, husband and wife, who took away his own free will. It is THIS FAMILY. The found family. Cas and Jack and Sam and the Mary that was resurrected. Dean’s entire character arc supports this journey, and to have it culminate in something that is so established in the season prior to this one as something Dean knows he no longer wants is maddening.

I’m even more mad now because I just remembered that the most prominent picture above Dying Sam’s bed was the blood family portrait from this episode; almost like they wanted us to remember this particular stupid lesson. This show is so stupid when it could have been so so so very good.

***I want to say thanks again to all of you who read my spiraling if you got this far. It’s therapeutic for me to do it, but it makes it all the better that people actually read it. Seeing you in my notes MAKES my entire day****

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internalsealpanic · 4 years

Text

Respectful Cannibalism

Summary: Watching mystery movie with a bunch of detective was a bad idea

A/n: While this is part 3 to my Space Case series, you’re not required to read Art Gallery Smile or Cosmonauts to understand the context to this. The only note I do have is that Dick and Steph are friends with Reader much to Tim’s everlasting horror. Special thanks to @littleredwing89 and @glorified-red for proof reading this mess.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff and a confusing amount of batkids in one scene.

Main Masterlist

Tim Drake Masterlist

Tim coughs, loud and ragged into the speaker. You find yourself wincing at the phone tucked against your ear. Tim sounds like he’s dying or, at the very least, he’s on his way there.

“I’m so-”

“Fucking tired of saying sorry that you decided to go skinny dipping in Gotham Harbor? Yeah. Great, I’m sick of hearing it too. Glad, we’re on the same page, Space Cadet.” You exasperate, pulling on your jeans violently enough for Tim to hear the angry shuffling of fabric.

“Skinny dipping?” Tim huffs, a fond smile playing on his lips as he drinks in the timber of your voice. Even when you were absolutely exasperated, your voice was still soothing or maybe he just misses your company. God, he’s such a sap.

You shake your head in disbelief. That was his take away? “Yes, Timmy, Buck-ass skinny dipping,” you laugh, coming out derisive and sharp. Tim groans this time filled with guilt. The first few sounds of another ‘I’m sorry’ form in the back of his throat as he runs his hand through his bed head. For once, you’re thankful that you’re nowhere near Tim because you are one apology away from decking him and you’re pretty sure that that’s a terrible thing to do to a sick person, especially one with no brain cells to spare.

“I- You were really looking forward to this (Y/n), don’t try to deny it.” You weren’t going to. He was right. You were looking forward to this date. You were impossibly, unreasonably giddy over the prospect of going to the planetarium with Tim this afternoon. WITH Tim. Sure, you’re pretty down about it but you were the tiniest bit more concerned about the fact that your boyfriend had water in his lungs and almost died of hypothermia for a hot second. You pinch the bridge of your nose, hoping that worry and murder radiate off of you in equal measure. “I was also looking forward to my letter from Hogwarts,” you sneer, pausing dramatically to look at your watch, “and it’s been roughly a decade.” You hear Tim swallow and the hairs on your neck bristle in petty satisfaction.

Tim chortles, a lively sound that startles you, then coughs but the sound comes out somehow sounding doubtful and teasing. Embarrassment flares up in you. “You were too!” you protest, hackles drawn to full height. A short breathy laugh leaves Tim and you feel the flush on your face ease into something softer and more rounded. All the sharpness in your veins dissipates as the flash of fondness for that stupid laugh takes over. You can imagine him warm under the covers smiling at the phone at your blunder. “Please, (y/n), my hopes were dashed when I was 4 and still not in the Jedi order.”

“Bullshit, you were never a child,” you snort, sharpening the grin on your face into something vicious. “I refuse to believe you were ever a child! You probably sprang out of a textbook fully formed- Wait, I’m getting off-topic. ” Tim hums innocently and you narrow your eyes at the phone, hoping he can feel the ‘I am revoking your breathing privileges’ look. “You always are.” Tim says before falling into a coughing fit.

“Sorry, Cosmo, I just keep getting lost in your eyes,” you whisper, pitching your voice rich and caramel smooth. There’s a sound on the other line. Tim is babbling you realize. You hear a shuffle of fabric and a body rising. Tim sucks in a breath, red-faced and caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. He can practically see the cocky grin playing on your face, the light of the sun reflecting as golden flecks in your eyes. “You can’t even see them!” Tim stammers, glowering at you through the phone. You cackle at him as if sensing the venomous look he’s giving you. “You can barely open them!” Tim rolls his, very much, open eyes, falling back into an unnecessarily large pile of pillows that Alfred insisted was necessary for bed rest with a loud ‘fwoof’. “Yes, I can,” Tim mumbles, sounding young for once. You do your level best to smother a grin on your face. “I’m just really drowsy from the chamomile tea Alfie gave me.” You stop dead in your tracks, one hand half in your coat the other on the doorknob. You blink. “You’re at the Manor?”

Tim pauses, making a frustrated noise. He shouldn’t have said that. “Dick and B… insisted.” This draws another one of your sharp laughs. He says insisted as if it was ever negotiable. “Did they ‘insist’ before or after they blow-dried and hung you out to dry?” Tim squawks and you hear shuffling again. Tim tries to remember why he doesn’t hate you. “Tell me again how you found out about me getting sick? Steph? Cass?”

“Hmmmmmm, Dick.”

“THAT TRAITOR”

“Funny way to pronounce older brother,” you hum smug. You can feel Tim glaring daggers at you. “You-”

“There’s a home theater, yeah?”

Tim pauses, this time longer. “I don’t like where this is going.”

“Answer the question, Space Case.”

He sighs. “Yes.”

“Great! It’s a date then,” you say, mentally preparing a route to the Manor from the vague directions Steph told you once. You could just use the maps app-

“NO!” You freeze. Tim flinches at the volume of his own voice. He whispers an indiscernible ‘I’m sorry’. You turn it over in your mind before speaking. “No?” You ask, trying your best to sound hurt instead of amused. Maybe you should have pitched your voice higher, more shaky. “Look, Tim, I-” Tim heaves a loud sigh. “-(Y/n), you’re fine-” Well, you aren’t, you think. You bite your tongue, physically to make sure you don’t say anything unnecessary. “-It’s got nothing to do with you. It’s- It’s just my siblings...” Tim knows that his siblings have been talking about you.

“Timmy, I can take whatever shovel talk they can give me,” you say with the confidence of someone who has never been dangled over the edge of a roof top. Ok, to be fair, YOU had nothing to worry about. Tim, on the other hand, was going to get roasted alive. Maybe he can persuade you into not- Tim hears the tell tale sputtering of your bike’s engine and he feels his blood pressure spike. The engine genuinely sounds like a death rattle.

“You’ll get sick.”

You swear and he hears another sputter of the engine. “You’ll get sick,” he croaks again, louder this time hopefully over the dying engine. Maybe if your engine dies right now, he’ll be spared from a slow agonizing death via siblings. “Relax Cosmo, I have the strongest ward against whatever you got,” you say, giving the engine a light kick. Tim hears a few metallic clunks then the engine stutters to life. Tim looks up past the ceiling trying to glare at whatever cosmic being resurrected your engine.

“Which is...”

“Being broke. It does wonders for your health.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s how it works,” Tim says, shifting burying his head against the too soft pillows. The soft fabric makes his eyes feel heavy. He yawns. He hears the sputter or your laugh. It’s hard to tell from the sudden drowsiness making his head swim.

“I promise I’ll explain to your typical rich kid ass when I get there, Tim.”

“That’s not how it works,” Tim slurs, face pressed into a pillow.

You laugh, he’s sure this time.

“I’m-” Tim’s mind unfocuses and the words you say garble together ”-Tim. ”

Tim blinks, mouth moving to ask you to repeat that but the last thing he hears is a soft click.

On the bright side, it would just be him and Alfred at the manor.

_________________________________________________________

Batmanisfake: I heard (y/n)'s coming over😶

Nightwingingit:👀 How do you even know that?

Batmanisfake: What are you? A cop?

Nightwingingit: say that again but slowly 🙄

Batmanisfake: ...

Damian: He bugged Drake's phone. For blackmail purposes, of course.

Nightwingingit: JASON

The Cool One: Shush Dick! He's onto something

Batmanisfake: Thank you

The Adult: I for once had nothing to do with it😌

Theactualbatman: I'm assuming we're all coming home tonight?

The Cool One: I'll bring popcorn

Damian: Nonsense Pennyworth will likely have some prepared

The Cool One:😭 We really do not deserve that man

Nightwingingit: Definitely

thesaneone: We're recording Tim's face when he sees us, right?

Batmanisfake: From all angles

The Adult: You're all horrible

Batmanisfake: Please like you're not hacking into the cameras as we speak, Babs

The Adult: You have no proof👀

_________________________________________________________

Tim’s head felt thick and gooey like one of Alfred’s custards. He feels like he’s floating, like he’s in a fish tank. There’s a sickly Chlorine smell clogging his nostrils; it smells powdery and sterile and reminds him vaguely of aspirin. Tim blinks. His eyes hurt; they feel puffy and sore and hot. His vision is further obscured by a thick layer of fleece blankets Alfred had piled high over him. He shuts his eyes still feeling too overwhelmed by the low light coming from the window.

Tim thinks he hears his window open with a soft click. Tim quiets his breathing. His hearing is too muddled to process anything beyond it. There’s a soft thud of heavy boots in the room; it’s imperceptible and dreamlike the way it reaches his ears that it has him shifting under the covers trying his best to discern the sound. A dozen lighter footsteps follow it and he can sense 6 shapeless bodies hovering over him.

“Should we wake him up?” asks a voice that vaguely sounds like Cass.

There’s a shuffling sound. Leather, he thinks. “Wait, lemme take a picture.”

“Red, why? It’s not like you can blackmail him with pictures of him sleeping.”

“Because, flashlight, I need proof that Timbo sleeps. ”

“Because?”

“Ok, how many times have you seen him asleep?”

“Uh...”

“Exactly!”

Tim hears a laugh that distinctly sounds like Dick. “Does it count if Alfie drugged him?”

“Maybe?” Steph says, shrugging.

“It doesn’t, Brown.”

“Damn it.”

“Does that mean B doesn’t sleep?”

“Nope.”

Maybe if Tim keeps sleeping, they’ll go away on their own. Tim wraps the sheets tightly around himself, hoping the large stack of fleece would be enough to muffle his siblings.

“I’m pretty sure I have dibs on waking him for opening the window for you shits.”

“Red, anyone could have opened that,” Duke laughs, stepping slightly behind Cass, who at the moment was paying more attention to the moving pile of fabric. Maybe if Tim stays really still she’ll turn her attention to something else.

“Cass and Dickface would have just broken it.‘

“I would not!”

“Sorry, Cass, you would.”

“Steph, whose side are you on?”

“Why is no one defending me?” Dick sighs.

“No one cares, Dickface. And Blondie’s clearly playing for the right team-” Steph cackles. “-none of you have any finesse.”

“Not all of us can be drama queens, Todd.”

“You’re like the third to the last person I wanna hear this from.”

“Third? You’re ranking us now? Who gave you the right?”

“Alfred,” Jason deadpans, “And yeah. Bruce and Dick are first and second.”

“Hey!”

“Can it Mr. Pretty Man Down.”

“That was one-”

“What rank am I?”

“uh … fifth.”

“Fifth?!”

“Sorry, Blondie, Cass has you beat with that ballet kick thingy.”

“Ok, yeah I can accept that. What about Babs?”

“What about Babs? The woman can kick my ass six ways to Sunday. ”

Tim’s head throbs all over. There are soft pin pricks pressing on the sole of his left foot; his leg jerks involuntarily. He wants to scream. Tim swears under his breath. A gloved hand pries the covers away from Tim’s face. Tim squints his eyes open only to be greeted by Dick’s kind, but still very punchable, face. Tim takes a long rasp, pinching his features in a mix of annoyance and despair. “Why are you-” Cough! “-here?”

There’s a slight quirk to Dick’s smile.“They wanted to meet (y/n),” Dick explains in a sweeping theatrical motion of his hand across the room directing Tim’s attention to the expressions on his sibling’s expressions which were all a variation of devious scheming.

“How did-” cough. “- you even know-” cough. “-(y/n) was coming?” Tim asks, shooting up from his pile of pillows causing a couple of blankets to topple to the floor to the ground. Tim’s lightheaded. He suddenly feels a shift in his balance, a feeling of vertigo. He nearly topples to the ground, his blood not quite catching up to his movements, when feels hands wrap around his shoulders. “Woah there Baby Bird, slowdown.”

“Answer-” Cough!

“It was Todd.”

“You mutant sperm!”

“Jay, aren’t we all mutant sperm?” Steph laughs, slinging one arm over an irate Damian’s shoulders and another over a fuming Jason’s shoulders. Tim groans, sounding pained. “How much do I need to pay each of you to get all of you to go away?”

“A lifetime of IOUs,” Dick says, casually.

“NO!”

“All of your share in W.E.,” Duke says, laughing. Steph elbows him lightly, also laughing. “You’re shooting prelow there, Slick,” Steph teases. Duke shrugs still grinning. “Gotta keep it realistic, yanno?” Steph and Duke keep bickering.

“Drake, kindly, pay with your life.”

Tim scrunches his nose. “I’m already on my deathbed, you know, dying. What else do you want from me?”

“A more agonizing death.”

Jason grins, tilting his chin. “C’mon, Timbo, we can help with your little impromptu date.” Tim groans, placing his face in his hands. “Please just help me dig my own grave.”

“What would be the fun in that, Timbo?”

“For you or for me?”

“Come on, Tim, it’ll be fine,” Cass says, clearly not believing the words herself. All seven of them dissolve into another round bickering. Damian, Jason, and Steph hellbent on giving Tim an aneurysm. Duke and Cass playing at being neutral; Duke leaning on Tim’s side but laughing way too hard at Steph’s well placed jabs; Cass is only mildly siding with Tim to spite Jason. Why this time? Tim has no clue.

The string of banter is broken up by the echoing the doorbell. Tim’s heart seizes as they all fall silent, enraptured by the odd sound of a doorbell filling the hallowed halls of Wayne Manor. The chiming of bells ends with the creaking of the large oak doors in the front of the manor.

Before Tim’s sluggish brain could even formulate a thought, all of his siblings are all bounding towards the door, bouncing off the walls and flipping over obstacles. Tim scrambles, lagging, after the hoard of vigilantes barrelling towards you. Tim tries to shout after his siblings but his voice is drowned out by raucous laughter and bickering.

You stand at the door, head haloed by the pale afternoon light as the sky catches fire, flecks of snow sparkling in your hair. You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear as you sheepishly thank Alfred as he takes your coat.

Tim struggles to breathe an he genuinely doesn’t know if it’s because of his lungs, you, or the fact that of all his siblings, Babs was the one who got there first and Tim genuinely doesn’t know if Babs is there to hold off the gaggle of vigilantes or to scare you off. From the jovial grin wrinkling your features, Tim’s pretty sure Babs just gave you some blackmail material instead of putting you through the ringer- an equally scary outcome. For your part, you don’t look even slightly phased by the fact that Babs is in a wheelchair or even by the way she’s clearly sizing you up. All of this rolls off of you with an easy motion of your shoulders as you answer her questions in the most frustratingly oblique way based off of Babs’s expression. Tim can’t help the curve on his lip as you blatantly dodge another of Babs’s questions with a smile. You spot him, winking, and the tips of Tim’s ears flush.

Your cocky demeanor fades when a gaggle of batbrats crowd you; nervousness creeps into your form, ironing out your posture into something unnatural and defensive. “Is this a bad time?” You ask through a tight lipped smile. Babs glares at them but doesn’t make any effort to hide the satisfaction at your shaken demeanor. “Don’t mind them, Sweetie,” Babs says, patting your back and guiding you away from the gaggle. You shuffle awkwardly, trying to coax your spine back into a more natural curve.

“(Y/n)!” Tim manages between gasps for air. Making a person with non functioning lungs run has to be some sort of human rights violation. His voice is louder than he anticipated. He realizes, but the apprehension in his body flits away when you beam at him-a wide cheeky smile that has his body vibrating with delight. He made you smile like that, Tim thinks, heart swelling almost enough to soften the impact of the next few words. “Hey, Duckie!” you chirp tilting your face in a cute lopsided smile.

“Duckie?” Jason sniggers.

Duke’s face passess from confusion, realization, then amusement in a matter of three seconds.“Duckie? As in ‘quack quack’?” Duke asks, pretending to still be dumbstruck.

“Yes, Duckie, Tommy Terrific,” you say, the lopsided smile curving into a playful grin. The dumb nicknames earn you a loud, surprisingly nonthreatening, approving laugh from Jason who then says “We’ll keep those nicknames in mind” which just drags pained looks from both Tim and Duke. Dick and Damian on the other hand look absolutely delighted.

“(Y/n), tell them about the other nicknames,” Steph says, grinning savagely. Your eyes widen and you wrinkle your nose, mouth twitching from side to side, trying to pretend away the heat rising from your cheeks. “Not on your life, Stephie.”

“Aaaaaw! Not even for lil ol’ me?” Dick pouts, throwing his arms around you. The familiarity of the action has Tim bristling. “Pleeeeeaaase,” Dick whines; a smile hidden in your hair, “not even for Alfred’s cookies?” You make a noise caught between a laugh and a groan. “Hmmmm… maybe? Throw in some candy.”

“Deal.”

Tim blinks. “You’d betray me for sugar?”

“Cus I ain’t getting any while you’re sick,” you cackle, grinning along with Dick who looks way too pleased with the outcome of the conversation. Tim desperately wants to melt into the floor. Looking at all his siblings who are eagerly awaiting for the litany of nicknames, Tim cuts in. “Let’s just go watch that film.”

“What are we watching?” Cass asks, leaning to look over your shoulder, clearly shoving Dick out of the way. Dick does his best to not budge.

“What do you mean ‘we’?”

“We are under a communist regime, Timbo. We’re all watching it together,” Jason says, slinging Tim over his shoulder.

“Have a heart, Drake. We only want to spend family time together,” Damian says, somehow still looking imperious even from where Tim is dangling. A dull ache starts spreading across Tim’s like his skull is being squeezed.

“Hope you guys like Clue,” you say, fishing it out of your cornucopia of unhealthy junk food. “I figured you detectives would like a good mystery.” Dick snorts taking the disc from you and reading over the contents efficiently. “Bet you I can get the ending even before any of you.”

“No, you won’t,” Jason barks, setting off a long winded argument about who the best detective is.

“Didn’t you say you would eat me if I spoiled another mystery movie for you? Are you planning to eat my entire family?” Tim croaks quietly. You scrunch your nose, twitching your mouth four times to the left and four and a half times to the right. “Technically, what I said was ‘I’ll respectfully go back to juvie for cannibalism if you spoil another movie that night’,” you hiss low, trying not to draw attention to your conversation. Unfortunately for you, his siblings have good hearing.

“And this is different how?” Tim asks, this time not bothering to control his volume.

“You’ll never figure out the ending,” You say smiling innocently. Tim rolls his eyes and huffs a ‘we’ll see’. It doesn’t wipe the smile off of your face.

As it turns out, the Wayne Manor theater is less of a theater and more of a bean bag storage closet with a large screen. Jason tosses Tim unceremoniously into one of the random bean bags in front of the couch before gracefully pirouetting into the couch. You chuckle and continue your search for something to put your Bluray in, just now realizing that you should have probably just asked for their Netflix password or something. Alfred appears out of nowhere handing Jason and Cass each a bowl of buttery popcorn and scolding Jason about manhandling his brother in front of a guest. Jason looks unrepentant. No surprises there. With a swat on the back of Jason’s head, Alfred turns to you, gloved hands extended out to you. “I can take that."

“Oh… Uh thanks- Thank you,” you stammer. To your left, Tim snickers and your hand slip, somehow the blanket Babs handed you finds its way to Tim’s face. “Shut up, Ducktective. He’s practically your grandpa and I kinda wanna make a good impression,” you hiss, cheeks warming. Tim coughs, a little dumbfounded. Somehow it hadn’t occurred to him that you were nervous about this.

Tim checks if his brain is on straight before speaking. “Relax, you haven’t physically assaulted me or any of my family yet so you’re immediately at the top of Alfie’s list.” You open your mouth to speak then curl it into a frown, looking appalled and concerned. Apparently, his brain wasn't on as straight as Tim thought. "Am I going to have to fight your exes? At some point?"

"No!"

"Yes!" Steph says, handing you a red bean bag. Tim scowls at Steph as he watches the color drain from your face. She just shrugs and goes off to annoy Dick.

“Mr. Boddy?” Damian asks incredulously, reading the box summary again. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” you laugh, setting your bean bag next to the one Jason dropped Tim in. Damian rolls his eyes. “This is a stupid movie. Do people really consume this drivel?”

You scrunch your nose but don’t put too much heart into glaring. Thankfully, color is now returning to your face. “The movie hasn’t even started yet!”

“Relax (y/n), the tiny mutant sperm is just playing elitist,” Steph says, plopping next to Jason and eyeing his bowlful of buttery popcorn.

“As long as it isn’t as bad as the Happening-”

“Dude, you live in a city with Poison Ivy. That thing is pretty much a documentary,” Duke says hesitantly taking the spot between Steph and Cass.

"Please, for the love of Alfie, please, talk about something else," Dick whines, plopping a bean bag next to Tim. Jason’s face twists in confusions before his eyes light up and untwists into an expression with amusement. "Is it because of the-" Dick hits him square in the face with a pillow, all the while screeching "Think of the children!"

"Where, Dickface?" Jason ask, prompting Dick to point(jazz hands) at Damian who rolls his eyes. Jason does the same, looking younger than the toughened exterior suggested. "That's a gremlin, Dickface. Not a child."

"He is-"

"SHUSH! The movie is starting!"

You giggle, curling into Tim's side and placing your head in the crook of his neck where you usually like to put it. Tim's insides shiver from the contact and his hands automatically coil around you, pressing his nose into your hair.

"Jeez, her melons are big," Babs says flatly taking another handful of Dick's popcorn from Damian. Cass snorts and Tim feels embarrassment creep into his skin. He flicks his eyes to you, only to find you smiling into his side.

"They're almost as big as Dick's," you chuckle.

"Nah, Jason is bigger," Cass pipes.

You eye Jason openly which makes the large man cross his arms over his chest. "Huh, you're right," you note with more confusion than anything.

"Bruce has moobs too!" Jason protests, red-faced.

"Son, why?"

The chatter falls silent when the figure at the edge of the room settles itself into the large leather recliner in one corner of the room. You squint your eyes to distinguish its features from the rest of the shadows in the room; only to be greeted by the solemn features of Bruce Wayne. Your breath catches and you feel your skin jump twenty feet in the air. Everyone else in the room seems to have about the same reaction even as he pulls a lever to raise the foot rest. You all follow his movements with interest.

“Is Bruce trying to relax?” Duke whispers to Cass who shrugs in response. Steph rolls her eyes, reaching over Duke to try and snatch some popcorn from Jason who just raises his bowl higher. “Shhhhh, Duke, let the B man try to play human,” she says, snatching at the popcorn til the bowl just falls on Jason’s head.

“He’s trying I guess.” This draws a startled chuckle out of you that you try to press in Tim’s neck. The vibrations against his skin has him shivering.

“B, are you ok?” Dick asks. This makes Bruce’s features move in a slightly concerned fashion which in Bruce speak is very concerned. “Yes, why?”

“Ooooh, no reason, old man.” He turns to Babs. “Yeah that’s not Bruce. Five bucks says it’s a robot.” Babs snickers, grabbing a ten from her purse. “Ten says it’s an alien.” You twist to look at them, taking out a twenty. “Twenty says it’s just Mr.Wayne.” Jason sneers at you, taking your money. “You clearly don’t know the old man.”

“Can we please just watch this film in peace?” Bruce groans, running a hand over his face, finally looking more like the long suffering single dad of eight kids that he should be. Babs looks over her shoulder, slinging Bruce an absolutely disbelieving look. “Do you even know your children?”

“Yes, father, have you even watched us bond?” Damian asks, using his free hand to do air quotes for the word ‘bond’ while using the other to try and swipe some popcorn from Cass. It doesn’t work.

“That definitely isn’t Bruce,” Dick hisses, trying to shield his own bowl of popcorn from an irate Damian.

“SHHHHHH! I can’t hear the movie!”

“It’s definitely the butler,” Dick declares. Damian scowls, throwing a pillow at him which Dick catches with ease. “Grayson, the movie has barely started.”

“It’s definitely the butler. It’s gotta be. It’s always the butler.”

“That’s very offensive to Alfred, Dick,” Cass says, grinning. Alfred sniffs poshly in his own recliner. Dick recoils but Jason piles on. “Very classist of you, Dickiebird.”

Duke snorts. “Nah, I think he’s just saying it because Tim Curry was Pennywise the Clown.”

“Why would you trust a clown?”

“Oh my god, why are you guys comparing Alfred to a clown?”

“We are not!”

“This conversation is a trainwreck,” Tim groans into your hair. “Dunno, Tim, it sounds like a success,” you laugh, pressing closer. His eyes flick between you and his siblings. “You planned this.” You look up at him, failing to flatten a smile. “Nope.”

“I say it’s Ms. Scarlett,” Bruce says, rubbing his chin contemplatively.

“You’re just saying that cus she reminds you of Selina,” Tim huff, grinning and you’re half tempted to pinch his cheeks. Bruce cuts him a scathing look that has you shrinking; the grin on Tim’s face just broadens which just makes the playful scowl on Bruce’s face deepen. “Need I remind you who pays for the internet?”

“Alfred?” Tim asks, innocently.

“Careful Tim, B man might actually do it. Hell, he’ll probably do it if he finds out what you did last Thursday.”

“Do you mean the explosion on Fifth?” you ask, turning to Steph. Steph gives you a firm nod; in the corner of your eye, you can see Bruce arching a brow. Tim gapes at you looking absolutely gutted. “What happened to snitches get stitches?” Tim protests.

You shrug, grinning. “Sorry, Duckie, I stand by my cookie dealer. Who do you think sneaks Duke and me cheetos in Western Civilization? I stand by my fellow barbarian.”

“You know Duke?”

“I pay him to-”

“Shhhhh!”

“You guys are talking too!”

“At least, it’s movie related!” Damian hisses.

You throw up your hands with an exaggerated flail. “Fine!”

“I say it’s the shifty looking lady,” Jason declares, reaching over Duke and Steph to try and snatch some popcorn from Cass. You wonder why Jason doesn’t just snatch some from Alfred since he’s closer. You try to ask Tim but he just shakes his head at you. “Ms.Peacock?” Cass asks, shoving Jason’s face away with butter covered fingers. Duke tries to snatch a few kernels in the confusion only to get his hand swatted. “I think he means Mrs. White,” he says, waving his hand. “Yeah that one.”

“It’s the butler! It’s always butler!” Dick protests.

“I will fucking riot if it’s the butler!” Steph shoots back.

“It can’t be the butler.”

“Why not, Dami? He has motive.”

Damian rolls his eyes.“Gordon, why are you siding with Grayson?-” Babs opens her mouth to answer but Damain continues before she can get another syllable out “-nevermind. He doesn’t have as much motive as the rest of them. Besides, does he really look competent enough to hold a gun left alone with a knife?”

Tim raises his chin from your head. “Demon Spawn, your standards for butlers is too high. Alfred is-”

“You say this like you have plenty of references.”

“Oh, Tommy Terrific, Duckie here is a posh bastard,” Jason sneers ruffling Tim’s hair. From the way, some of his hairs stick up you could guess that he still had some butter in his hand. Tim makes a face of disgust; you try your best to help him with his hair. “Jay, you say that but you’re like Mr. I need the correct type of wood for my bookshelves,” Steph laughs. “Just because I’m not a slob like the rest of you walking disasters doesn’t mean I’m posh.”

“Yes, it does. You lived here. Yanno with Alfie,” Dick says, pulling out another pack of snacks he’d managed to snag from your bag. You’re not gonna ask at this point. Tim gives you a look which roughly translates to ‘I am very sorry for my trainwreck of a family’. You snort at him before turning towards his sibling. “I mean look at Cass. She’s still feral.” If looks could kill, the look Cass give you would melt your bones. Thankfully, Damian opens his mouth. “They’re all feral.” You have a sense that you’ve also been insulted. You hear Babs to your right laugh derisively. “You say this like you’re any less feral than the rest of us.”

“I am-”

“Are any of you still watching the movie?” Bruce asks and for the second time that night, your body tries to divorce your soul. You had almost forgotten that yes, you are watching Clue with the fucking Batman. You shift in your seat suddenly feeling a twinge of nervousness. Before the discomfort could nestle in you, Jason speaks up. “No, Bruce, we’re just watching Cass vacuum the popcorn into her stomach. What do you think?”

“You guys didn’t ask,” Cass says through a mouthful of popcorn knowing full well that’s a lie.

“How can any of you be watching it? All you’ve done is talk over the dialogue.” You almost laugh at how exasperated he sounds. Beside you, Tim just snickers and shakes his head.

Damian just looks at his father from his bean bag next to Dick. “Father, we can talk and listen. ” Dick, like the mature adult that he is, slaps his knee laughing. “I don’t think B is capable of that.”

“PREACH” was followed by a chorus of AMENs.

"Alfred, what have I done to turn my children against me?" Bruce asks, tiredly leaning back into his recliner.

"Master Bruce, how would you like me to list it?"

"Alfred not you too," Bruce groans, putting his hands in his eyes.

"Yeah! Alfie's on our side!" Jason cheers.

"Quite."

"Alfie is always the sensible one," Cass chuckles sensibly between bites. You hear varying noises of agreement and Bruce ages from suave debonair to extremely tired single dad.

"I assume Alfred is actually the boss here."

"Yeah, Bruce is actually on the bottom of the food chain here," Tim says. You tilt your head in contemplation. "Yanno that makes Batman so much less scary."

"B-man's just a giant softie," Steph chirps, slinging her legs over Duke and Cass's laps narrowly missing the nearly empty bowl of popcorn.

Dick turns to you winking. "Yeah, just give him the puppy eyes and he'll get you anything you want in 2 seconds flat."

"Dick…"

"It's true!"

"Even a carnival?"

"Can we please just watch the movie?" Bruce says, in an almost pleading voice.

"I wouldn't hold my breath, old man," Jason chuckles, earning a glare from both Bruce and Damian. "It's not like you know how to shut up, Todd."

"Sorry, I don’t speak gremlin."

"That's bull Jay!"

"MOVIE IS STILL GOING ON! SHUT YOUR CAKE HOLES."

“I TOLD YOU IT WAS THE BUTLER.”

“Yes, yes, it has been publiced and noted, Birdie,” you giggle into Tim’s side, shaking your head. He wraps his arm around you, pressing a kiss into your hair, winking at you. “Does it count?” Tim asks over his shoulder. A look passes between him and Cass. “I don’t think so,” she says grinning.

“It so does! It’s one of the endings,” Dick protests vehemently. Jason’s mouth flattens then curls into a grin. “By that logic, the old man is right too.”

Dick thinks for a moment, tapping his chin. “Well, we can’t have that.”

“Why not?” Bruce protests.

"I'm still sticking with the butler. I'm sorry this is the only logical conclusion."

"He wasn't even an actual butler you butter brain!" Steph protests, throwing a pillow at Dick.

"I'm sorry but can we address why you're all mounting a mutiny against me?"

"Teenage rebellion!" Dick answers.

"Chum, you're not even a teenager."

"Father's right. At most, Grayson is five years old," Damian pipes from beside Dick seemingly unaffected by his brother's pout.

"Alfred, you're going to have to check my blood pressure before patrol."

"Quite, sir."

“They’re all so dramatic just like you said,” you whisper into Tim’s shoulder.

“I AM NOT DRAMATIC”

“Ah, yes, because the pretty man pose is so pragmatic.” Damian deadpan.

"That was one time, you assholes!"

"Hey, what else did Timmy say?"

"Well he- Oh wait!" You fish out your phone and Tim snacthes it away faster than you can blink. "No-" cough "-you don't." Cough.

Jason snatches it from him, snickering at the photo of Tim kissing you on the cheek. You're pretty sure Tim has a matching photo with you kissing him on the cheek. "Nice lockscreen, (y/n)."

"Oh, you should see the homescreen!"

"No. Please don't. You might need eye bleach."

"Relax Space Cadet, it’s not that one."

"Ohohoho, what didn't you want big daddy bats to see? Haaa, Timbo?"

Tim turns every shade of red before settling on fire hydrant red. "None of your business!"

Bruce clears his throat, looking at a stupidly expensive watch. “It’s time.” Dick springs up, stretching and showing off. “Is it really that time already?” Steph asks in almost a whine. Duke and Cass take the opportunity to shove her off and sadly, she lands with a loud thud and a mangled curse. You wince but laugh unsympathetically which simply earns you a face full of dust covered popcorn. You frown at her and she grins at you as Jason hauls her up by her hoodie. “C’mon Blondie. Let’s leave the love birds alone.”

“It’s not like they’re actually gonna be alone. Alfie’s here. So is Babs.”

“I’m going back to my place. You people give me a headache.”

“You say that like you weren’t having fun,” Dick teases, walking after her.

“I’ll be down in the cave if you need me,” Alfred says waving at both of you. “Will do, Alf,” Tim yawns, nuzzling into your hair.

Cass pops her head back in. “Make sure Tim doesn’t do anything stupid,” She calls back. You grin, bright and wolfish. “Don’t worry! He can’t do me while he’s sick.” You hear Bruce choke in the hall and you just know that you’ll mentally kick yourself for that later. Luckily for you, Tim physically kicks you now. “What the hell?!” Cough. “Sorry, got caught in the moment.” You huff, trying to look a little sorry. Tim just glares more. “You’re not even close to sorry.”

“Ok. Yeah.”

“I have no idea why I love you sometimes.”

“My amazing personality?”

“Sure.”

“Love you too, Tim,” you chirp, kissing him. Tim’s lips feel hot after the quick peck and he pulls you closer. “I love you but I was pretty sure my family was gonna eat you alive.”

“They would have done it,” you hum, pausing before adding, “respectfully.”

Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red

#tim drake imagines #tim drake x reader #Tim Drake #batfamily x reader #batfam #reader insert #dc fanfiction #dc reader insert #bruce wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #dick grayson #Damian Wayne #Jason Todd #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #batman #batfamily headcanon #batboys

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slashbitch2 · 3 years

Text

Extra Complications PT3

Previous Chapter

"Don't bother coming back into work tomorrow."

Her words had been replaying in your mind since the final encounter, bouncing round like a taunting echo. It'd only been a week since you'd stopped working at Alchemex, yet had felt like a lifetime of boredom and fatigue. With no job or persistent villain to chase after, if you could even call Liv a villain anymore, there was no reason to get out of bed in the morning, nothing to stop you from moping around your apartment. The days blended into what felt like one long sick day, disregarding the occasional break to rescue a cat stuck in a tree.

Although, your only sickness was of the mind. Whenever you attempted to get some rest, your thoughts would inevitably drift to Liv; the cold, distanced tone to her voice, the look of betrayal in her eyes, how empty the week had felt without her. By the third night plagued with insomnia, you were starting to accept that your feelings towards her may be more than a simple crush. On the eighth night, you decided you ought to do something about it and began to formulate a plan.

Entering the building like you were still an employee would be almost impossible since anyone who left their job was rarely welcomed back with open arms. It'd also be better to avoid the security and CCTV cameras, which you'd learnt used face recognition technology. And finally, locating a security card would pose a potential problem, as walking round the facility until you happened to stumble across a janitor to steal from was unfortunately no longer a possibility. So, what was the solution to all your problems? Vents.

Which is how you found yourself scouring over blueprints like a cliched protagonist from a bygone age movie, but at least the irony hadn't escaped you, and thankfully laboratories generally required a great deal of ventilation, so you had multiple routes memorised by the time the bus had arrived at Alchemex. You'd spent the entire journey on edge, fearful that any fellow passenger might accost you for looking so suspicious. But apparently an agitated figure buried beneath a pile of blueprints wearing a spider-suit underneath a jumper was normal enough to be ignored.

Nonetheless, stepping onto the concrete ground of the car park was a relief which inspired a tad more optimism. Moreover, leaving the burdening stacks of blueprints behind further alleviated some of your anxiety. It felt like a final confirmation that this was your one and only chance, and you weren't about to mess it up. Even as the building loomed over you casting a shadow of uncertainty, nothing could discourage your determination.

There was the remarkable sense that you didn't belong here, though it was a familiar sensation. One that persuaded you to tug the mask over your head before darting toward the edge of the car park. It was your belief that as long as you stuck to the outskirts of the facility, few would pay you any attention while you were out in the open. Therefore allowing you to manoeuvre into position and take the quickest passage straight to Liv's office. Which is exactly what you did.

The first stretch of the vent system was a straight drop, a narrow plunge that went on for longer than anticipated. Like a slide with no angle of inclination and a lot less fun. You hit the metal base with an ungraceful clang, certain that your legs would've buckled upon impact had it not been for the lack of space to do so. Overall an uncomfortable start. The remainder of the journey was a lot of crawling and muscle cramps, your only incentive being the occasional grate to peer down which reassured you that your destination was drawing nearer. Everything was going to plan.

Until you heard her.

Olivia's voice rung clear as if from a dream. It stood out from the general ruckus, initially leading you to believe you were hallucinating, that it was some kind of audible mirage. Yet you refocused your senses and it didn't go away. She was almost directly below you, separated simply by a thin layer of metal. With renewed ambition, you crawled toward the nearest grate as quickly and quietly as possible, frantically lowering your head to find the perfect angle, all just to catch a glimpse of her.

"What do you mean the program hasn't worked?" Liv pinched the bridge of her nose, her words laced with an an uncharacteristic anger. You'd never known her to be an irritable person, she loved her job and every challenge that came with it. Was she uptight? Sure. Passionate? Undeniably. But never angry.

"I've tried rerunning and rewriting parts of the code. And it just doesn't work!" Some poor employee (Mark, if you remembered correctly) was fighting for his dignity below. You could see he was flushing, wildly flailing his hands around as he tried to justify his mistake.

"You've rewritten part of it?!" She repeated, volume rising in frustration.

"I- I thought I knew how to fix it."

"I told you not to mess with my work." She growled, stepping closer.

"With all due respect," He didn't back down, clearly caught off guard and unsure how to deal with an irritated Liv. "it's actually Y/N's work."

Upon hearing your name, you ducked out of view as if you'd been seen. Although, it was evident that this was not the case, so slowly you edged forward to peer down at them once more.

Liv's face had dropped at the mention of your name. But by the time you'd settled back in place, anger was already seeping into her expression, then was suddenly smoothed into disturbingly sweet smile. "Well, Y/N isn't here anymore. So I suggest you keep your incompetent hands off of things you don't understand."

Judging by her vague wording, you guessed she hadn't told anyone the real reason you'd been fired. A fond appreciation flooded your mind. Despite everything that had happened, she still respected your secret enough to keep it. You begun to consider that maybe Liv cared about you as much as you did her. Why else would she lie on your behalf?

Mark muttered an ashamed. "Ok." Then left to try and atone for his mistake.

Liv stayed where she was for another minute before taking a deep breath, shaking off her annoyance, and setting a determined path. You assumed she was heading for her office and were about to follow, but then paused. Was this really the best time for a reunion? She obviously wasn't in the best mood, and if you had to guess, it was likely due to your betrayal. Was it too soon to reappear in her life? You'd arrived here with the intention to apologise and make amends, however, you had no idea how Liv would react or what would happen after. If there would even be an after. She could attack you on first sight for all you knew.

No. You'd come too far to turn around now. You continued along the vent before you could overthink the decision. It would be foolish to turn around now: the end was in sight, and rapidly growing closer.

Reaching the final grate, you were greeted with the familiar yet new aerial view of Liv's office. It'd remained mainly the same since your departure. She hadn't even bothered to remove your lab coat, which was still carelessly thrown over the chair you'd frequented everyday. And Liv herself hadn't changed much either, disregarding the seemingly permanent anger lines upon her face. She was sitting at her desk, head in hand, mindlessly flipping through a folder. It occurred to you at that moment that she didn't look irritated, rather sad. Another unexpected emotion for her to display.

After a minute, she sighed, tossing the papers to one side and bringing her other hand up to crash forward into. She looked defeated, seeing her this way felt wrong. You honestly preferred the anger because it showed she'd maintained at least some of her usual intensity.

You sighed. It was time to fix this. With unsteady hands you delicately unscrewed the bolts holding the grate in place, careful to make as little noise as possible. It was as you were removing the final screw that you realised something: you had no idea what to say to her. No planned speech or prepared apology, you'd resigned to hoping for a spontaneous burst of thoughtfulness in the moment. You sat there for a minute, fidgeting with one of the screws while attempting to come up with what you would say. Should you start by apologising for breaking in, or for lying to her, or for applying to the job in the first place? You had a lot of things to apologise for.

And unfortunately, the chance to think it through any further was taken from you as the screw slipped out of your hand. You gasped watching it fall, hitting the ground with an faint thud. Although quiet enough for most people to ignore, you knew Liv was too thorough to not investigate. And as expected, following your sharp intake of breath was the sound of a chair scraping against the floor, then footsteps gradually approaching.

Liv appeared below you, bending down to inspect the screw before glancing up. Her eyes locked with yours through the mask and widened in shock.

"Hey." The casual tone to your voice sounded forced and you grimaced. But rather than dwelling on it, you dropped from the exposed hiding place and pulled off your mask. You smiled awkwardly, eyes scanning and overanalysing her reaction.

Liv stepped back to lean on the desk for support. Her mouth was agape, but otherwise her face was worryingly blank.

"If this is a bad time I can come back later."

Still no response. The room was drowning in a tense silence.

"Well, actually I probably can't come back." With no social cues to interact with, you began to ramble aimlessly. "I'm guessing you'll find a way to patch that particular security breach." You gestured up to the gap in the ceiling and laughed lightly. "Sorry about that. I didn't know how else to-"

You're cut off as Liv moves impossibly fast, grabbing your shoulders and shoving you backwards against the wall. A thousand different thoughts run through your mind at once, all wondering what she's about to do. The majority are focused on the possibility that she's going to hurt you in some way, although, even if she did have the intention to cause harm, you wouldn't fight back. You were tired of conflict, especially when it involved Liv.

She was standing close, breathing heavily and saying nothing. You couldn't help but let your eyes flicker down to her lips, the temptation to kiss her becoming increasingly vehement. So instead you forced your attention up to her eyes, which held an air of confusion.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was deep, full of unvoiced emotions.

You licked your lips, glancing at her mouth one last time. "I came here to apologise. I didn't mean for any of this to go so far."

"You're lying." She backed away slightly and you immediately missed the proximity.

"I'm not! I just-" You stuttered, then admitted in a quieter voice. "I never meant to hurt you."

She inhaled shakily and swallowed, your eyes tracing the movement of her throat. "And?"

"And because I care about you too much to let you think I did any of this on purpose." You lowered your head, her invasive glare becoming overwhelming.

Soft fingers firmly gripped your chin, compelling you to look up. Her eyes displayed distrust, confusion which you suddenly feel the need to wipe away. You wanted to make your affection for her clear, but found yourself annoyingly speechless. All the recurring thoughts and confined confessions that had been plaguing you for a week suddenly gone from your mind. You were infuriatingly at a loss for words. Although, the warmth of her fingers against your skin reminded you that actions speak louder than words.

You leant in slowly, giving her sufficient time to stop you. She didn't move so you kissed her lightly at first, searingly next. Your arm shifted to wrap around her back tentatively and she moaned faintly in response. Although, it wasn't until you allowed her to take control that any remaining anger dissipated. At that point the kiss became bruising, her hold on you tightening as a wave of shared desperation rolled over the both of you. Before the desperation could reach its peak, however, you separated from her.

Liv was almost panting, her cheeks tinged pink and hair a mess. She promptly attempted to kiss you again, though you dodged the advance and she whined. Her mouth latched onto your neck, sucking at the skin there.

Your head fell back against the wall, dizzy from lust. "Does this mean I can have my job back?" You quipped, running a hand through your hair.

"Depends." She murmured in between kisses. "Do you have anymore secrets?"

"None that I can think of." You smiled, the prospect of returning to what you'd come to consider as normality was an appealing one. Of course there were things you would need to work through with Liv, and many, many extra complications alongside having a relationship with your boss. But nothing easy was ever worthwhile, and Liv was living proof of that.

"Alright. You're hired."

#olivia octavius x reader

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hearts-hunger · 4 years

Text

querida || javier peña x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: Javi wants to take you on a little roadtrip before the sun comes up, and you two might just have to make a habit of enjoying more mornings like this.

Pairings: Javier Peña x wife!Reader

Genre: fluff and smut, very soft giggly married lovemaking

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: smut & me not being a spanish speaker (please let me know if i’ve gotten anything wrong!)

A/N: Yeah, you guessed it, I’m caught hook, line, and sinker for Pedro Pascal and all his characters. I know for a fact that Javier Peña is fully incapable of sleeping with a woman and not catching feelings, and that goes double when he makes love to his wife. If you’re an older follower of mine sticking through my new hyperfixation, thank you! I hope y’all enjoy ♡

It had just started to rain, gently pattering against the windows whose curtains were closed against the sunrise that was still hours away. Javier hovered over you and kissed you with a persistent kind of gentleness, waking you slowly and easily in the darkness of your bedroom.

“Rise and shine, pretty lady,” he said softly, brushing your hair back from your face. You turned your face away from him as he tried to kiss you again, and he chuckled.

“Come on, mi amor,” he said gently. “I’m trying to be sweet to you.”

“Let me sleep, if you’re so sweet,” you mumbled, moving closer to him despite yourself, wanting his warmth. He pulled you close and kissed your neck, grazing his fingers over your shoulder.

“Do you have to leave for work already?” you asked. It seemed early to you, but you were too drowsy to look at the clock.

“Not yet, but I do have to be in early today,” he said. “And I probably won’t be back until late. So I thought it would be nice to see you before I left.”

You thought that was sweet, and you nuzzled against him and tried to be a little more awake and attentive. You kissed his jaw and put your arm over his waist.

“What do you think about taking a little drive?” he asked.

You pulled back from him and looked up at his face. “A drive? Now?”

He smiled. “Yeah. I know this great place we can go and watch the sun rise.”

You groaned a little at the thought of getting out of bed and hid your face against his chest.

“Oh, come on now,” he said with a laugh, pulling you close again. “It’ll be nice, I promise. I’ll drop you off before I head to work, and you can sleep in all day while I’m gone.”

You could tell this was something he wanted to do with you, and your time together had seemed so sparse and unhappy lately that you couldn’t say no. He had been so stressed and tired with work that most of the time you were together was either spent sleeping or bickering, and you’d missed your happy Javier. Getting up early from your nice warm bed was a small price to pay for how much you would both enjoy spending a few hours together before the sun came up.

“What do you think?” he asked.

You gave a dramatic sigh. “Oh, well, if you insist.”

He grinned and gave you a deeper kiss then, pulling the blankets off both of you. You dressed quickly in the early morning cool of the apartment, and Javi surprised you with a fresh pot of coffee he’d put on before he woke you up. Before long you were curled up in the passenger seat of the Jeep, holding your husband’s free hand as he drove out of the city and towards the mountains. The drizzle continued to fall, mixing with the sound of Javi’s quiet humming along with the Jim Croce greatest hits cassette he always kept playing in his car.

You talked through the whole drive, both of you catching the other up on work and life in general. You really hadn’t seen him very often in the past two weeks - Javi and Steve with both running themselves ragged trying to keep up with Escobar, and you and Connie had been busy volunteering. You were thankful for a friend who understood what you were going through, and you hoped Steve and Connie would get some time soon to just be with each other like you and Javi were now.

When you reached the spot Javi had decided on, a small clearing beneath the limbs of a few Andean oak trees that overlooked a beautiful expanse of mountains, the sky had started to turn the slightest shade of blue. He turned the car off and you sat in companionable silence for a moment, looking out on the natural beauty of the place that had been so hard for the both of you to live in.

“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” he said, his voice characteristically soft. “All that trouble going on every single day, and it looks like a paradise from up here.”

You reached your hand up to brush your fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes and let himself enjoy your touch, leaning closer and turning his head just enough to press a gentle kiss to your wrist.

“I miss you,” he said.

You touched the pad of your thumb to the crow’s feet that came from his laughter, that contagious, genuine sound that had come to be your very favorite in the world. “I miss you too.”

He leaned across the console and kissed you for a long time, every touch loving and tender and full of care. He grazed his fingers over your cheek, your temples, the place where your pulse beat in time with his. At some point you decided the small distance between you was too much; you awkwardly made your way to straddle his lap, both of you giggling like teenagers when you bumped your head on the roof and he struggled to get the seat to move back. Settled again, your bodies pressed against each other and you felt a spark with each touch that grew into a warm and comfortable desire, familiar with just how much you loved and wanted your husband.

When you broke apart after a while, he looked up at you and gave you an impossibly tender smile.

“Thank you for coming with me,” he said. “Next time, I’ll try to plan something a little more coordinated with your sleep schedule.”

You gave a soft laugh. “That’s ok, honey. I’m actually glad you dragged me out of bed before the crack of dawn to make out with me in a government car.”

“Oh, dragged you out of bed, huh?” he said with a laugh. “I must have imagined all that kissing and sweet-talking, then.”

“I know, it was such a chore,” you said in a pitying voice. You traced his features with a gentle touch, feeling the lines that life’s sorrows and joys had etched into his beloved face. “Poor Javier, having to kiss his wife to get her to wake up.”

You grinned as he pressed his mouth to yours again, proving that kissing you was not a chore to him in the least. He fumbled with the buttons on his plaid you were borrowing, just enough to let him kiss the top of your breasts.

“So, honey...” he said against your neck. “What’s the verdict on pre-dawn car sex?”

You laughed and felt his smile against your skin. “Wouldn’t that be a way to start off your work day?”

“A fun way,” he assured you. “A very nice way, considering all I’m doing for the good people of Colombia.”

You let him unbutton your shirt all the way down and weren’t really surprised when he didn’t take it off of you, preferring the way his big shirt hung loosely on your frame. You hadn’t bothered to wear a bra, mostly because you didn’t feel like putting one on, but he grinned like the Cheshire cat as if you’d planned it all along.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, with all the sincerity in the world.

He pressed kisses all over your chest, leaving light love marks on your breasts with a tender sort of possessiveness. He was a protective man, and the dangerous nature of life in Colombia had proved very hard for him to adjust to when it came to you. He made sure everyone who came into contact with you knew you were under his care, and anyone who hurt you would have him to answer to. Javier was the only thing that made you feel safe on nights when gunfire rang through the streets; you could have a whole army of bodyguards and defense details assigned to you, but the only thing that would ever make you feel truly safe was knowing Javi would move heaven and earth to protect you if need be.

He murmured to you in Spanish as he continued to kiss you, each world a lullaby you couldn’t translate but still understood. He helped you shimmy out of your shorts, not without a few soft laughs, and put his big hands on your hips as you started to slowly move against him.

“Wait, wait,” you said, a little breathless. He stilled and looked up at you, his expression a little dazed.

“What is it?” he asked.

You gestured to his clothes. “Your work clothes,” you said. “You can’t show up all... crumpled.”

He breathed a laugh. “No problem, honey,” he said, his hands resuming their wandering. “I brought a change of clothes, just in case.”

“Had it all planned out, hm?” you teased.

He hummed in agreement. “Just the part where I got to be with you, querida.”

He rubbed circles against your hips as you moved against him, kissing you deeply like he would never tire of it. You ran your hands over his shoulders before you had the presence of mind to tug open his nice starched button down, and you kissed every inch of his warm, tanned skin you could reach.

With the ease of having handled you well for years, his hand moved between you to rub your clit, the pressure making you draw in a sharp breath.

“Javi,” you breathed. You felt every ridge on the back of his hand as he pushed your panties aside to tease at your entrance; you rolled your hips against his knuckles, wanting him deeper.

He fingered you slowly, your breaths quickening together. He let you set the pace as you rode his fingers and crumpled the shoulders of his work shirt in your fists. His strong, calloused fingers and desperate, stolen kisses quickly brought you to the edge; he murmured words of praise as you breathed his name and gave a choked moan.

“Oh, Javi, ‘m gonna cum,” you whined.

“Go on, mi amor,” he said, his baritone warm with pleasure. “Cum on my fingers for me.”

His fingers curled inside you and drew something like a whimper from your throat, your orgasm crashing over you so strongly it almost surprised you. You rode out your orgasm on his fingers, digging your nails into his shoulders as he took great care to draw it out as long as possible.

“Good girl,” he praised, your breaths never quite leaving the space between you. “So good for me. Mi vida, mi corazón.”

Your hands moved down his torso until you were fumbling with his belt buckle, feeling how hard he was, wanting him to feel as good as you did. You tried your best to palm him - car sex had its drawbacks, and one of them was not being able to touch him a easily as you wanted to - but he seemed to like it just fine. He groaned and pulled your hips down closer, raising his own a little to meet you.

“Hold on, baby - ” He made short work of his belt and zipper, the desperate sound of them making you blush despite yourself as he pushed his jeans and boxers down. As hungry as he was, he settled you on his cock with a very tender, deliberate slowness; he gave you a second to adjust to him and both of you were still for a moment, breathless with the feeling of him filling you up.

“Javi,” you said softly. The windows were foggy as the rain continued to fall; his skin was lit in the gentle blue light of early morning, his curls mussed and his eyes meeting yours with a devotion and adoration that would never fail to take your breath away.

“Querida,” he said. “I love you.”

You didn’t know what to do with how much you loved him. You didn’t feel like you could ever truly express it; it was too much, too much a part of you. You gave him a stupid grin that he found more charming than anything else you could have done, and you felt him smile as you kissed him with patience and the surety of a woman who would spend the rest of her life loving him.

The cassette switched tracks to play your favorite song, the one Javi had playing the first time he told you he loved you. “Every time I tried to tell you, the words just came out wrong - so I’ll have to say I love you in a song.” Javi sang it to you all the time, and you felt it was only fitting that it was playing now as you started to move your hips against his.

Javi tried to go slow, drawing out his strokes as much as he could, but he’d been waiting patiently and you wanted to see the look on his face as you made him come undone. You angled your hips so his thrusts went deeper, carding your hands through his curls and tugging a little like you knew drove him crazy. He rocked his hips against yours and hit the spot that made you gasp and tighten around him; he groaned and pressed his face to your chest, his unsteady breaths warm on your skin.

“God, I love you,” he said in a tight voice, splaying his big hand over your back and keeping the other firmly on your hip. “Love you wearing my shirt. Love you riding me at five in the morning.”

You couldn’t help a choked laugh as he reached between you to circle your clit in time with his thrusts, certain he’d meant to amuse you and pleasure you at the same time, which was one of his greatest talents. You felt another orgasm cresting like a wave between your hips as he continued his dedicated lovemaking.

“Javi, baby,” you almost pleaded. One hand tangled in his hair while the other held his shoulder in a bruising grip. “God, don’t stop. Oh, I’m almost - ”

“Me too,” he managed. He kissed your jaw as he gave a particularly skillful thrust that made you give a sinful moan.

“Cum with me,” he said against your mouth. He gave you a deep, breath-stealing kiss. “Please, baby.”

You couldn’t have argued with him if you wanted to, and you leaned your head back and moaned in pleasure as he drew you over the edge, tightening around him as waves of your orgasm rolled over you. A string of curses tumbled from his mouth as he came deep inside you, giving you a final few thrusts that made you gasp with the delicious sting of almost too much pleasure.

He mumbled something in Spanish as he rested his head against your chest, pulling you as close to him as you could get. You gave a soft laugh and brushed your fingers through his hair.

“English, please,” you teased gently.

He chuckled and gave your chest a few trailing kisses before he looked up at you.

“Me has robado el corazón, mi amor,” he said. He tucked your hair behind your ear. “You have stolen my heart.”

You leaned your head against his and felt happier and more at peace than you had in a long time.

“I love you, Javi,” you said. You pulled back just enough to see his face. “What’s that thing you always say to me? The orange thing?”

He laughed then, sweet and genuine.

“Eres mi media naranja,” he said. “You’re the other half of my orange. My soulmate.”

You smiled. “Yeah, that’s the one. Eres mi media naranja, Javi.”

He gave you a kiss the way you best loved them, chaste and sweet and tender.

“And you’re mine, querida.”

i’m not tagging anybody from my forever list, because i don’t know if y’all signed up for me falling head over heels for pedro pascal ;) let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for him!

(actually, that’s a lie. i’m tagging @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl and @punkgeekchic because they’re legally obligated to know about every fic i write, and besides, they might like it ♡)

#y'all can have a little javi smut on new years eve...... as a treat #i think it's cute and sweet :)#let me know what you think!#and if you want me to write more for him ;)#javier pena x reader #narcos #javier peña #javier pena x reader fluff #javier pena x reader smut #wife!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #javier pena fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #maddie writes stuff!

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cafecourage · 3 years

Text

Hero of Legacy General Plot/History/Link Overview

Me and @flowercape worked pretty hard on this story and I really want to go through everything we’ve made. However that would be physically impossible so this is just a summary! I should also note that there is some Art work from @flowercape ! I love their art! Please give them some love!

(Also should note. Legacy is a LoZ Link OC and not a LU one though I have thought about their interactions its not canon.)

Ok! So let me bring up the timeline we are going to be following. It’s not that custom nor does the Timeline actually show the amount of time that has passed.

Alright so we got 500 years between BOTW and Legacy so here are the spark notes that I’ve been sending people:

- Zelda and Link rebuild Hyrule. Zelda made the old Castle rebuilt into an Academy. While another smaller castle was built next to it, this created a lot of jobs for the people and they slowly came back to rebuild the kingdom in general. Wild on the other hand founded and created an Adventuring Guild and started rebuilding the Army. (But his focus was more on the guild.)

- Zelda feeling like Link’s silence was her fault developed the Hylian Sign Language and made it the Kingdoms second language.

- The Kingdom had a Science and History boom after a lot of things where brought back up from the calamity. The only good things to come out of it was that these artifacts where brought back to the surface.

- History is important in the kingdom because Ganon kept coming back over and over again. So the stories of the different links were brought back in full force to remind people of the tragedy’s. However like what happen with our history, mythology and history meld so its hard to see what is right and what was just made up. (Ie. King Arthur. He might of been real but the story isnt.)

- 500 years later the Royal family is a figure head and people don’t really believe in the goddess thing anymore. So this Zelda is a lot more free and happy to do what she please. She follows Wild’s Zelda and becomes a Doctor of Science.

- Link and Zelda meet when there were 5. Zelda had a friend named Claus who was 7. In a small museum in the Academy’s Library. Zelda and Link had a share interest in history of Hyrule’s heroes. Well… Zelda had an obsession with the Champions, the Era of the Wild and Sheikah Tech because she really adores the Queen of the Wild. While Link had an overall love because of his Father and Mother being both historians.

- In Botw its was implied that the Gerudo's blood line was being mix with Hylian. For example, They now have pointed ears and not the rounded in OoT. So thats why Link is a male despite his mom being Gerudo. There isnt many males in the world but its slowly becoming normal. (It was the reason we gave on why link was a male, because its the one that made sense to us historical wise)

- The Gerudo Town we know in Botw, is still a female only town but there is a town with the males and husbands.

- The Academy is spilt into different tracks named after the Dragons and Hylia herself. Each class has only homeroom professor for their entire class year. (If that makes sense. They do this in Japan I believe. While the House concept is taken from England but edited to fit this.)

- Farosh: The track Link was apart of and later in life he is a home room and history professor. The course was made for those who want to explore and learn about the world through Adventure. Most if not all their Alumi go into the Adventures Guild.

- Naydra: The track that Zelda when into and sometimes teaches in as a guest! The course was made for those who mostly focus on science and technology. Most of the Alumi go into Hyrule’s Royal Laboratory or they head to the New Kakariko part in Hateno City.

- Dinraal: The track that Claus was apart of. This is the Knight coarse’s! Standard military coarse’s and such. Most of the Alumi go into the Army ether as soldiers or tacticians.

- Hylia: The track for the more spiritual and magic based people. All three coarse’s have to take some of there coarse but its not required. This is the hardest coarse to get into. Zelda got in but turn them down for science.

- All races are welcome at the Academy and because of the Queen of the Wild the tuition is free! The Academy promotes learning and curious minds.

Here he is! Our Son!

Summary on his Childhood then I’ll put some Bullet Points at the end: :)

Link’s deal is that, no one knows that he is the hero. There was a prophecy that claimed that there will be another tragedy. However someone started a rumor the the hero was Link's and Zelda's childhood friend Claus. So while his friends are full force doing training (light training in Zelda’s case because she was not having it.) Link was pushed to the side almost the trio was still super close! But there was something going on that they didnt know about.

(Now this part is weird, its one of the things I had control over but I still don’t know the exact idea on what happened. I have an oneshot I could post but it has old information on it that I need to remove.)

The Trio was 10 when the prophecy hit. At the same time Link had a Dream, though in his eyes it was a nightmare. As a child he had to find the Sky view temple and go through it. No monster, no traps, no puzzles. I should mention here that this Link while really curious and likes to discover things, is easily scared and has really bad social anxiety even as a child. So during this dream he was terrified, but he was force to go through it. Finally, when he reached the Spring of Courage. There is a man waiting for him. Link fully terrified at this point. Could not hear a word this man was saying. We the reader know its the First hero (The one from the Skyward Manga). After forcing himself awake from fear, Link would slowly start to see things. Spirits of different men in the corner of his eyes or he will go into, unknown to him ,dissociative states. In these states he would interact with these spirits. But he couldn’t hear them and barely see them.

We named it Farore’s Blessing because in Spirit tracks that Link could see the ghost of Zelda, then the idea of this being a thing that all links have because they see the unseeable normally came up. Legacy and Spirit just have a more powerful version of it.

Some Authors Notes about Link:

- Link is a History Professor and does part time archaeology work for the Adventures Guild.

- He has extreme social anxiety which lead selective mutism.

- Only has 2 years of sword fighting experience when he was 12 from his father.

- He loves ancient magic songs and has talked Zelda’s ear off about it.

- Is like 99% sure Nayru hates him.

- For the longest time he has felt inferior to Claus and Zelda.

- Is worried about the Hero of Time and Hero of Legend.

- Has regretted the Hero Spirit for too long.

- The thing about the Hero Spirit is that the Hero has to nurture it so they can grow into their role as a courageous hero. Legacy, because of his anxiety getting worse from seeing the spirits, the dream, dissociative states where he sometimes sees memories that isn’t his, and then lastly… finding his fathers body after confining in him about seeing things. He blamed himself. He blamed they people who he saw. He blamed the man in his dream. What he didn’t know was that someone else was pushing him to become a hero quicker then having him grow into it naturally.

- Link’s journey is based on the saying: “Learn from the past to make a better future.”

- So he needs to travel back in time to support and learn from each hero.

- Has a lot of regrets not telling Claus about being a Hero.

_____________________________________________

Thats basically everything? If you have any questions let me know!! I’ll be posting about Zelda and Claus soon after I finish drawing their reference sheet.

#Twilight (Not LU) speaks #Macha Tea #Thats the tag now for Legacy!#Oc #Link oc #legend of zelda

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frobin · 3 years

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Hi! Ok, I know it isn't very related to Frobin (except if you decide to mention them in the answer), but I am curious about your opionion on this thing. If the end of One Piece have someone of the Straw Hat crew that can die, who can be? OBVIOUSLY I hope nobody, that this thing doesn't happen, but never say never. There're people who say Luffy to recreate Roger's connection. Someone else Usop (but I miss the reason). Or Jinbe, who has also some problems and enemies from previous experiences?

Hey there anon!

No worries about asking questions. This is a FRobin blog but it's also a One Piece blog so it's fine to ask all kind of questions about One Piece. Even though I wouldn't consider myself much of an *expert* so everything I write is very much influenced by my own impressions.

But you're asking for my opinion anyway so that disclaimer is not necessary in this case. XD

---

Okay, first of all: I'm no fan of death flags. I never see them and when I read about them I feel like people pull them out of nowhere.

So I don't think any of the Strawhats will die before or even while the big end fight. Also it's not like they will reach their goal and then just drop dead (don't forget the dream are very different too but more about that later). Like what kind of life would that be?

Also we can't forget that Oda still believes he is writing this story for 14 year old boys. So, even though death is and will be a theme I don't think he will kill off the main crew.

That would not be very clever story wise and is not how to tell a story about adventure and fulfilling dreams for young boys.

Right now it's very "fashionable" to let characters die for shock value. But the more it's done the more annoying it becomes and less of a shock and Oda won't stoop so low to use this kind of element. Why do I think that?

So far we had three deaths in OP and they all shocked us a lot. But they were also used as motivator for other characters. Whitebeards death was a motivator for a whole new Generation of pirates, as well as his crew to try to save Ace and his little brother. Ace's death was a launch of character development for Luffy, Sabo, Garp and even Sengoku and probably more. Pedros death was a motivator for Carrot and other Minks. (Even the fake death of Pell was a huge motivator for Vivi. Interestingly compared to other deaths his sacrifice did not stop the war, which would have been an adequate impact. So him coming back alive actually makes sense.)

But look how few and far between they are. Of course there was more death but the important ones are kept as those.

Why am I talking about that? Who would benefit from a Strawhats death?

Literally no one. They are all already motivated to go until the end for each other. It's more likely that a death would cause Luffy to just give up, him becoming catatonic again.

Who would Luffy fight for if he even loses one of his crew mates? Or maybe two?

If I were a Marine I would try to make Luffy think that his friends are dead and then catch him but that is beside the point.

But for One Piece, a Strawhat death it would not move the story further. There is no additional motivator needed and that would be the only reason to kill one of the crew.

Killing a Strawhat makes no sense in my opinion.

A death would only make sense after they reached their goal.

So it is possible that we see the Strawhats die but long after the story came to an end, them reaching Laugh Tale (if that is the end). And yes, I think all of them will die of natural causes and/or sickness. Most of them at an old age. I think Luffy, Zoro or Usopp being the firsts because of the trauma their bodies had endured would make most sense.

I hope that answered your question anon... and anyone who does not want to read even more about my nonsense can stop here.

But let me break down why I think that all Strawhats have plot armor against death flags, behind the read-more.

-> It is very important that I think the huge clash with the Blackbeard Pirates, which will be the end fight, will happen right before Laugh Tale. And Laugh Tale is the end-goal and the end of the main story. (I MIGHT BE WRONG!!!)<-

Everyones own story can only end after they reached their goal so let's look why I think that these dreams give the Strawhats Plot Armor.

Luffy: Become the king of the pirates. That means he has to reach Laugh Tale. I often hear that Luffy will die early because of the parallel to Roger. That does not mean he won't reach his 40s or 50s. Even after reaching Laugh Tale Roger lived a bit longer and even had time to "make a child" so, killing off Luffy in the end fight makes no sense. So maybe dying after the fight, on Laugh Tale? That could happen and would be the earliest death of any Strawhat imo.

Zoro: Become the strongest sword fighter. That means he still has to kill Mihawk. I don't think Mihawk will go and look for Zoro. So, Zoro has to survive and then return to Mihawk and have his duel. No sense in killing off Zoro. I am 100% sure that he will survive until then.

Nami: Drawing a world map. For that Nami has to travel the world many times more. After they reached Laugh Tale, Nami has only finished part of her dream. She has to visit all of the Blues, travel the Grand Line and the New world multiple times. Drawing a Map of the world will take a lifetime. Her dream will take the longest to be fulfilled.

Usopp: Become the great warrior of the sea. Now here we have a dream that is not really tangible. Usopp will be a great warrior as soon as he realises that he is one. In my opinion he already managed to become a great warrior. Time and time again he has shown how amazing he is but this is all about his own self image and so hard to grasp. This actually makes Usopp the most likely to have a death flag BUT we can't forget that he still has to return home and tell his stories to Kaya and the Usopp pirates. It's part of a promise that is only secondary but for me it's enough to think Usopp too is safe until he did that.

Sanji: To find the All Blue. Sanji thinks that the All Blue is something physical. We can't know that and if it is physical we can consider that it's maybe a part of the New World near the Red Line where all seas somehow come together. So again, until Sanji found that place he hasn't fulfilled his dream. And since I think that would be BEHIND Laugh Tale, again I think Sanji is safe. Alternatively the All Blue is just a metaphor for something completely different but I can't hink about what.

Chopper: To cure all illness. Here too, this is something that takes time. Chopper is still only at the beginning of his career of being a doctor. Finding a magical cure for every illness that exists is not something that just happens. Logically he would need to talk with many other medical experts and together they might be able to find it. When and how and if that happens is impossible to say but again that would be something that would fit best in the time after reaching Laugh Tale.

Robin: To find the truth of the void century. Right now we figure that she will find that at the end of their travel, on Laugh Tale. Maybe it will happen earlier in case the Strawhats storm the World Government. Either way she will learn the truth. But that will not be the end to her. After learning the truth it's up to Robin to bring it to the world, to write it down, to teach, to make people understand that they can't erase history and that they have to learn from it. Again, that is something that takes time and so, truly fulfilling her dream.

Franky: To travel the world in the ship of his dreams. Again that is a vague dream. But it would mean to at least return to Water Seven, so that Sunny has traveled the world once. But even then it's only been a small part of the world and traveling the world would mean to visit at least every of the seas. So far, Sunny had been in two to four, depending on how much you take the movies into account. But to fulfill Franky's dream he needs to survive a bit longer and so does Sunny.

Brook: To meet Laboon again. This is simple. But for that Brook has to reach the end of the New World and then get over the Red Line again. What he will do after that is hard to tell. But again, the Red Line is behind Laugh Tale and so I'm sure Brook too, has to survive... even though he is already dead YOHOHO!

Jinbe: Equality between merfolk and humans. Again this is something that is no easy feat and will probably take more than one generation. Also it is not only up to him and more to Shirahoshi and the World Government. This dream is about teamwork too, but who could be a better ambassador for the merfolk than him? Losing Jinbe would be a huge backfire for the cause. Jinbe too is safe in my opinion. If you have reached the end of the post, let me tell you again my headcanon about FRobin: After the main adventure Franky and Robin return to Water Seven where Franky helps to turn W7 into a boat and after that is done, they travel to the island where Ohara used to be and there they rebuild the island. More people return and it again becomes a hub for scholars and history.

#Not FRobin #One Piece meta #One Piece Fandom #One Piece Theory #One Peace Death Flag #Long Post #Text #Some Frobin at the end #ask #Meta #In my opinion no Strawhat will die #kon

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fenristheorem · 3 years

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Hi! First of all... You are a LEGEND🤩! Your head cons are sooooooo good. When I read theme I really get into the story and can feel the emotion you put on the characters, 💖its amazing! Not that long ago you did a head con of Erika being ok with Leiftan being a Demon. So I was wondering... Could you do a head con of Lance accepting to take Erika with him, were she becomes a demon and enters the plot with Lance against the guard🤔? It would be very interesting to se that.😊 Hope u have a good day, evening or night!

Oh thank you so much! 😄 That’s so kind of you to say, I don’t think you truly know how much I value your compliment! You’re so kind! 😊

I originally considered nearly completely re-writing the plot from episode 15 (I believe that’s when she asks him to take her) for this ask, but then realized I would be re-writing half the plot of Origins lol. That would take way too long to write (while including different emotions and perspectives and requiring knowledge that’s too hard to hunt down or doesn’t exist) so I decided to write this with a very broad spectrum of headcanons, including some major alternative events (usually not including the guard since she’ll be holed up in a secret place so Lance doesn’t need to watch out for her every second of every day) and Lance and Guardienne’s overall compatibility.

This is probably my most bizarre ask yet, in the manner of how I’ve responded, so brace yourself because there’s a few crazy moments in this lol. Also, there’s a bit of swearing in this - I have a tendency to write stories / headcanons in a pretty crude style sometimes.

~Under the cut~

Guardienne joins Lance against the guard:

To start off with, when Guardienne asked Lance to take her with him, she didn’t know his identity. He was still Ashkore to her. That changed somewhat quickly.

I theorize Lance did actually have some sort of “home base” deep within a forest or the mountains somewhat near the guard. He did have to sleep and eat after all. And where do you think he was taking all those supplies on the night Guardienne asked him to take her with him? Where do you think he stored that frying pan so dear to him? Buried it in the ground? Hung it on a tree branch for a Sabali to find later? Sure, he moved around a lot, but he had to keep his stolen resources somewhere, so he must have had a main cabin or cave or something that no one knew about that he made a temporary home of sorts.

Assuming that; that’s probably where he kept Guardienne most of the time after she came with him. Of course, he would be sure to restrict her movements for a while - after all, she could have asked to come merely to find out what a day in the life of Ashkore is like and then tell that to the guard - but once he realizes that she truly was compliant and happy to be there, even helping him by providing information he didn’t know already and taking care of basic chores like cooking and such so he can spend more time screwing with the guard, he loosened up and let her roam around his domain.

He kept personal things well hidden; any old drawings, weapons, and clothing. Basically anything he didn’t want her to touch... which was most of his stuff... but he was reasonable and didn’t restrain her too much. Just as long as she didn’t bother him and continued to help he didn’t mind her presence... too much anyways.

But again, it wasn’t too long before Guardienne found out his true identity. In reference to the existing plot-line, I imagine her finding out his identity in this AU long before she found out in the existing plot-line. After all - they’re living together now, and he needs to take off his mask and armor sometimes. Do you think he always sleeps in his mask? And armor for that case? What about when he eats or bathes? Certainly he can do most of those things in private, but I don’t see Lance demanding she turn her back every time he removes his mask and armor. I can see him doing that to begin with - when she’s restricted - but once he realizes she truly wants to help, he’ll find it to be inconvenient to always hide himself whenever he wants to do anything without his mask and armor. He’ll probably still want her to call him Ashkore, though... and that’ll be the case until she realizes his identity and refuses to call him anything but Lance.

Now I forget if she knew about Lance’s existence at the time of asking to leave with him (I believe she did), but since she never got a description I imagine it would take her a small while to connect the dots once she's living with him. She would certainly have theories that Ashkore is Lance, and she would certainly irritate the utter crap out of him with countless questions regarding possible confirmation or hints to back up her theory, but she wouldn’t get many answers. Either he would ignore her, or turn to level his icy stare on her. She would quickly understand that he’s not interested in answering questions about his identity and past. He eventually threatened to cut her tongue out a few times if she kept asking nonsensical questions, but she didn't seem to care much and he eventually let it be; perhaps he realized that she would be even more irritating then. She wouldn't be able to speak easily without her tongue, but her resolve is steady, so she'd still try to find some way to speak with him - and then he'd still need to deal with her questions in whatever way she deemed fit, which included investing time to learn this new way of communication. Threatening her friends wouldn't work as she doesn't consider the guard her friends, so Lance came to recognize that's it better to just deal with her questions and ignore her.

However, he would answer general questions that couldn’t be used heavily against him if she were captured and questioned; why is he trying to destroy the crystal, what’s with his grudge against Eldarya, what does he know about the Blue Sacrifice? From his answers she can put a few logical pieces together. The Eldaryans don’t deserve to live? They’re disrespecting the kind gift of life the dragons gave them? They were apparently forced to sacrifice? Then hunted down after the sacrifice despite their generous gesture? Well he must be a dragon, since angels didn’t end up sacrificing and he speaks so passionately about them. And Valk said he was faelien, so either he lied and does know or Ashkore (being Lance in her theory) somehow found out their genetics while Valk remained clueless to it. And they look so similar, they would have to be brothers. Ashkore’s story started around the same time that Lance apparently died? Lance apparently fought valiantly and passionately for the things he believed in, like what she’s seen with Ashkore? Goodness are the pieces adding up now.

Guardienne would eventually approach him about her theory and he would respond with a cold hiss.

“What, you want a reward? A pat on the back and a ‘well done’? Why does my identity matter to you?”

He never said a direct yes - he was basically incapable of responding calmly or reasonably with touchy subjects - but she would know she has it right.

You would think them being on different sides of the war would mean they’d be more likely to try and kill each other, right? Wrong. Them being around each other all the time, I believe, leads them to be more likely to kill each other. Why? Recall episode 26 - their overall chemistry. Regardless of if choices made increased the LOM or decreased it, bizarre, entertaining conversation between the two still ensued. The main thing with that episode was that Lance became emotionally vulnerable as time went on, so actual tender...-ish moments came about where both of them were taken seriously but gently. Now imagine both of them - neither of them in vulnerable moments - being around the other constantly, both working together but still stepping on each other’s toes. Guardienne wants to make a meal; where’s this ingredient? What’s the ingredient compatibility? What do these things taste like? That’s not a food, that’s an alchemy ingredient? AND WHERE IS THE GODDAMN FRYING PAN!? (*cue Lance in the background clutching the pan and hissing at Guardienne*). Now Lance - who’s holed himself up in a private room - needs to plan his next attack on the guard; he needs this map of the layout, and this item to help him plan. He can use this pathway to- “Hey Lance?” ... Silence - if he pretends he’s not in there she’ll surely leave... Anyways, this pathway will probably be the safest, and his destination is there. Leiftan can- “Lance, I know you’re there, don’t ignore me!” ... Leiftan can- “Where’s the corn!?” Oh by the Oracle! But what the hell is corn? He’ll go to the door and crack it open only enough to give her an odd look. “Small, yellow, hard grain but smooth? About the size of a fingernail?” ... “Back right, lower pantry.” He’ll slam the door and hover over the map again. Ok, Leiftan... yes, that’s what he was going to do. Then he’ll have access to- “Oh - where’s the big pot?” *SLAM* Pain will shoot up his arm from his fist as the table shakes and he turns his head to seethe at the woman through the door. “You’ve lived here for weeks, you know where it is!” “Well you seem to have an obsession with hiding things, so actually I don’t because everything is always moved around!” He’ll rush to the door and fling it open to glare down at her. The door and it’s frame creak unsteadily at his tight grip as he looms over her. “Find. It. Yourself.” He’ll go to recede back into the room but she’ll grab his shirt and pull him into the room she’s in - he’ll snarl at her in response. “I’ve tried looking for it, it’s impossible to find.” She’ll hiss back at him with folded arms. “I’m busy planning.” He growls at her. “Well take a break then.” She snaps as they stare each other down... Silence again... “You make me want to kill myself.” “Don’t. You need to destroy the guard first.” He throws his hand back towards the door he was stolen from with a wild look in his scathing eyes; what did she think he was planning for in there!? “You gonna help me or what?” She speaks as if this is completely alright. He nearly shouts in rage as he slams his fist against the wall - pain shooting up his arm a second time - before pacing and clutching his head, eventually resigning to stomping towards the makeshift kitchen - not caring about whether she follows - and tearing through his stores to find the pot. He’ll throw it on the counter and cast a livid glare at her as he passes to head back to planning. “Well goodness, you didn’t need to throw a tantrum over it.” He whirls around and nearly leaps on her - she’s helping to destroy the crystal, she’s helping to destroy the crystal, she’s helping to destroy the crystal, WHY DOES A POT MATTER RIGHT NOW!?

So yes, they’re more likely to attempt to kill each other when on the same side; only because they’re alone and around each other more so they can chew on each other's nerves more.

However, as time carries on and they spend more time together, they actually begin to... enjoy each other's presence sometimes - not even sometimes; a good portion of the time. Sure they have moments where they argue and are a breath away from stabbing each other, but there are also moments where they aren’t treading on the other, by accident or purposeful. In these moments, they see a different side of each other - a good side of each other.

Guardienne quickly picks up on how passionate, resolute, and intelligent Lance is, noting that he’ll spend hours on end studying texts he’s found and maps of the areas the guard will be around next. He’ll carry these texts and maps around with him as he ghosts around their make-shift home, spending most of his days off curled up next to a small indoor fireplace and moving only for a few moments to take a quick break. Ironically, Guardienne leaves him alone to study more when he studies within her presence rather than when he locks himself alone in a separate area for hours, so in time Lance realizes he’s less likely to be interrupted if he studies in their living room/common area. As he begins to study more within her sight, Guardienne begins to see what he studies - and many of those things provide great insight for her regarding knowing Lance better. These things can range from different languages, histories and cultures, maps, geography, alchemy, mission reports (stolen from the guard of course) and even a few books touching on warfare, philosophy and psychology - what little of those latter texts exists in their world, at least. Guardienne begins to realize that, while Lance is very set on destroying the guard and the crystal, he’s also much more than just a man who wishes to exact revenge. He studies these texts to learn how to use it to his advantage, sure, but he also seems to have a genuine interest in these subjects. She even interrupted him one day - finding that he was oddly patient with answering this specific question - to ask if he perhaps ever grows bored of learning about these things, stressing that it’s a good idea to take a break from working constantly all the time - only for him to respond that he doesn’t view all of it as work. Some subjects he’s less interested in but are necessary to know for his agenda of revenge, but in the case where he’s feeling drained from that he’ll turn to reading another subject that he’s more interested in and go back to it later. She sometimes resigns to observing him as he studies - and she knows that Lance knows she watches him by the way his gaze will flick over to her every once and a while - but eventually she’ll begin to ask exactly what’s written in the books or what he’s thinking regarding the maps, asking to try to get to know his thought process better or just having nothing better to do at the moment. This is how Guardienne learns to grow closer to him; he doesn’t snap at her half as much when he explains what he’s studying, and he explains things in such a way that she doesn’t need to interrupt him to ask him to explain it better. In turn, she also begins to learn a bit about what he’s studying and can provide a bit of her own interesting input. Occasionally they debate these topics with one another, and Lance is actually very temperate when debating these things - he can speak in beautiful, grand tones about certain subjects, clearly showing just how much he’s interested in it. His eyes will glow with a warmth and passion that seems to dull even the indoor fire that burns with an eternal energy. These moments of enthusiasm actually entertain her greatly, and she begins to realize that she truly enjoys being around him in these moments. However, this also leads to minor conversations about his past, usually sparked from conversing about past experiences in these fields, and Guardienne witnesses firsthand the icing over of his personality from the reminder of his past. She’ll mention anything about his past; the village he lived in, his brother, his time in the guard, any memories he has, and the lively shimmer in his eyes will dull. His shoulders will drop and gaze will be cast to the floor as he bows his head slightly, a weight seeming to settle on him as he stares into a void for just a few mere moments. Then his facial features will harden, a stone cold look will invade his eyes and he’ll straighten again despite the clear effort it takes for him to stand tall. His formerly lively, sonorous tone will harden into cold, scathing words that are nearly spat out as he closes himself off, snapping and growling at her if she attempts to connect with him again. It’s from these continuous experiences that she recognizes something important; he's not truly as evil as he seems - he's wounded and aches for his reality to not be what it is now, and he seeks every day to ease that torturous pain, believing that that pain can only be eased by hurting others, by showing them just how much he’s hurt from his knowledge. Nobody is born evil, she realizes - he’s cruel only because he feels this is the only way he can deal with the pain of reality.

In turn, she tries her best to be understanding and comforting when she can. She understands, in some ways, his pain of knowing about the guard and sacrifice - she’s against the guard as well for her own reasons not too different than his - and seeing just how much Lance has broken because of the guard - just like her - only makes her want to burn it to the ground more. Lance notices this in time; where she once always pushed him to tell her more about his past and identity and reasoning, she’s now willing to drop the subject for a while or ask in a manner that’s more... considerate or empathetic. She begins to overlook his snapping and huffing at her, and instead focuses more on what he says and his reaction to those words instead of his irritation at her persistence. As Guardienne comes to understand Lance more, she realizes that he actually enjoys her company as well, even if he won’t admit it. He’ll jump at the chance to explain and debate his studies with her, and when she backs off of a sensitive topic she accidentally tread on for a while, he’ll be more temperate if she returns in a few hours and touches at the topic again, provided she approaches it in a neutral, tactful way. After all, the topic she wishes to speak about is a reminder of or is the exact reason he went from honorable and righteous to cruel and destructive - in his perception, if she doesn’t know how to approach it in a cautious, gentle manner then she doesn’t deserve to know exactly what happened and why it bothers him so much. However, she does learn this in in time, and he eventually allows her to listen to his most personal thoughts on... well, nearly everything. As they grow to understand each other better, she begins to provide a bit of support for him. He’s been alone for so long that sometimes he wonders if he’s truly losing his mind, but her presence reminds him that he’s not as lost as he thinks sometimes. Guardienne becomes a grounding force for him. She willingly - happily - listens to his rants and stories of his past if he agrees to talk about it, even if he’s fuming and raging the whole time, and eventually she can actually calm him down a bit. As much as he wishes to maintain a distance between them, in time he can’t help but grow a bit protective over her for personal reasons; her perspectives agree with his, she readily and willingly - even humorously, sometimes - puts up with his temperamental outbursts, eagerly speaks with him about basically anything, and wants to do something about what she feels is right or wrong. He refuses to fully acknowledge the hold she has on him - he’s not supposed to be attached to anyone in any way if his mission is to succeed- but when he stares at her as she nestles next to a stream, eyes bright and curious with innocence as she watches shimmering native fish glide by and turns to him to ask why they’re swimming up-stream instead of down, he can’t help but forget his past and feel normal with her.

She’ll eventually be made aware of Leiftan and Chrome as well. Not at first, but when Lance drags her half-way across Eldarya with him because he needs to fuck with the guard in foreign lands she’ll be dragged into their late-night-hang-out-meetings.

Leiftan quickly takes to her, Lance notices, and this is also how - in this version of the story - Guardienne finds out about her genetics. They need her strength in the war, so Leiftan will enlighten her and encourage her to train her abilities, even helping her in the few moments he can.

Lance quickly snaps at him, making sure he knows he can’t jeopardize his fake role within the guard to train her late in the night. He comes up with all sorts of excuses and aggressively reminds Leif that he can’t spend too much time around her. She’s supposed to not exist anymore and Leiftan needs to pretend like nothing is going on.

Really, though, Lance is just feeling threatened. He doesn’t want his personal source of information, good food, and entertainment to be wooed and stolen away. Good luck getting him to admit that, though.

Lance believes she’s safest with him; he’s the one outside the guard and his location and activities are unknown most of the time. All he needs to do is keep her veiled in that shroud of mysterious unknown to the guard and she’ll be impossible to find. Of course, she won’t want to just sit around forever. She’ll eventually want to be more proactive in helping him destroy the guard, and he’ll argue it at first until she becomes just so annoying that he can’t possibly stand it anymore! It’s either she helps or he kills her because she won’t shut up, so he trains her; hard and brutally. He’ll train her in how to master her demon abilities, how to gain the upper hand in any fight with any enemy, the most lethal points of different creatures, the most lethal tactics she could use, how to improve her strength, stamina, speed and stealth. He was once Chief of the Obsidian Guard; he knows how to turn a weak, scraggly runt into a masterful, fearsome warrior. When he finally sees fit, he’ll gift her with personalized equipment - bought or made specifically by him - so she can slink around the guard late at night with him. Of course, he’ll demand that she call him Ashkore on premises - or anywhere except home, really - but she’ll follow his lead in that case; she knows how important it is to remain unknown.

So how exactly do these restock or attack missions go? Well, she’s usually brought along for restock missions - where no one is supposed to know they were there in the first place - in which case her role is to stay quiet and help him throw stuff into the bag. She’ll typically be left to carrying the bags unless there’s one that’s too heavy for her to remain quiet - he’ll take the heavier bags. Lance will usually be busy designing their path out and planning their timing correctly while she focuses on following him. He doesn’t really take her on attack missions, though. He wants her to remain unknown. If a feminine figure is suddenly working with him not too long after Guardienne’s disappearance, especially since it was clear there was a rift between her and the guard, then suspicions will rise, and unfortunately those questions could then begin trace further back to reflect on Lance’s death and Ashkore’s appearance due to the similar time-frame of events. Basically, their stories and disappearance/death to villain appearance time-frame would begin to mirror each other. If she was to remain unknown then she can’t directly fight the guard, so no attack missions for her. However, Lance isn’t against turning a restock mission into a restock-attack mission if he sees the chance - he’ll just make sure she’s basically safe the rest of the way back home before enacting on it, even going as far as retracing his steps back to the guard to cause trouble.

In the original plot-line, it seems that most of the time when Lance, Leiftan and Guardienne are fighting each other it’s due mainly to the fact that Leiftan abandons the plans against the guard because he's in love with Guardienne, Lance wants Leiftan to continue against the guard, and then he realizes he needs Guardienne out of the picture so Leiftan forgets about her and so he can gain some other information he needs/use her as leverage against the guard. Since in this AU, she's happily on their side (so Leiftan isn't abandoning his plans against the guard and Lance has all access to her power/information) I can see a bit less of a rift among their team as their plans harmonize together. Instead of Leiftan and Lance fighting, Lance kidnapping Guardienne, Lance becoming reckless by putting off breaking the crystal, and many other things happening caused by the rift between them, they’d most likely collaborate and work together better, and they’d be more coordinated in attacks and better at getting to the crystal. Of course, it’s possible that Leiftan may have wanted Eldarya to be saved at some point so he could spend his life with Guardienne, but seeing how Leiftan would do nearly anything for her throughout the original plot-line, I wouldn’t be surprised if he continued his efforts against the guard knowing that she’d want him to in this AU. It would also help knowing that the guard hurt her many times in many ways, so he’d be seeking revenge for that as well.

Dragging Guardienne around Eldarya with Lance, however, has risks and consequences that could come down on top of them if not careful. One such issue is the fact that, while Lance is very good at evading the guard, occasionally he’s caught and is sent on a wild-goose chase trying to flee from them. This occasionally can put Guardienne at risk of being found out, as she’s nearly always close to him, but Lance has considered this possibility a long time ago and has already devised a plan during these times to avoid from any heavy repercussions falling back on them. He’s just fine with fleeing with her - he knows how to keep her out of sight and her equipment is lightweight enough so that she has no trouble moving swiftly and flexibly if needed - but he’s realized that it may not be the smartest idea to have her fleeing with him while clearly seeming to be working with him. Instead, Lance realized, it would be a good idea for her to act as though she’s a hostage if she’s about to be revealed. That way, if she’s captured at any point in the future, she can play the innocent victim who knows nothing, and the guard - while persistent in finding out anything she may know, no matter how little the information may be- certainly won’t hurt their precious Guardienne who has already been through so much while in the clutches of the evil Ashkore. If she’s seen as a hostage, she can use excuses like “I’m sorry, it just so hard to talk about so soon... can we continue this later”, “I honestly don’t remember much, I was so busy focusing on a possible way of escaping that I didn’t pay much attention to that detail”, and “He kept me locked away in a certain area, I don’t know if there were any landmarks around that could point to his location” to deter their questioning and buy time before she needs to reveal anything actually important, else she look like she’s protecting him. Acting as a hostage will also assure that she won’t be thrown in the prison and guarded the whole time; so being free to roam around the guard while buying time to keep important information a secret will allow Lance the time to plan a rescue mission - disguised as another easy kidnapping since she won’t be guarded - to return her to their side. This is merely a backup plan if they know she’ll likely be captured at some point, and it will only work if the guard is unaware of a female figure helping him out, but provided that everything goes smoothly it should be a solid plan with little negative effects. However, this can’t happen more than once or twice; the first time will be easily accepted by the guard, the second time she plays the innocent, panicking fool she’ll be walking the line between seeming suspicious or if she’s truly that foolish, and for her sake the second time she will need to reveal some important information. A third time and the guard would know that something is up.

These hostage situations can get quite amusing for Guardienne - despite how fragile the situation is - and, frankly, Lance would snap at her every time she snickers about this, except he finds these situations absolutely hilarious as well. They’ll be running around Eldarya, the guard occasionally cornering them before they flee, and Guardienne will do her best to attack Lance in ways that are weak enough to not actually effect anything, but are strong enough to make it look like she’s truly trying to escape. Is the guard within ear-shot and they know they’ll be found out eventually? Great, Lance has an escape plan to get out of there already, so Guardienne can throw a screeching hissy-fit at him to make it seem like she’s trying to escape. Sometimes this can aid them as well, as they can set up a maze that the guard will certainly come running through to find Guardienne, following the sound of her struggle, only to then be trapped somewhere because Lance has traps set up that Guardienne certainly couldn’t have known about since she’s a hostage. Other times she’ll do her best to attack Lance - but let’s face it, even if he did train her she would still have a hard time bringing him down if their fight was serious - and he’ll quickly disarm her in front of the guard before finding a way to gain distance from them again. This is all just to reconfirm the illusion that she’s a hostage to the guard, and of course they panic every time and believe it, but it’s knowing that they’re running circles around the guard - bringing them here and having her bait them to this location so Lance can attack them, or leading them to discover a certain fact at some point so they think they have a useful piece of information on Lance when in fact Lance is using that to draw them out in confidence so he can crush them - that they find truly amusing. The guard is being played this whole time and they keep falling for it. Even Lance can’t help but laugh at a few moments of running the guard around with Guardienne later, when they’re no longer in danger.

Of course, this all leads up to the grand finale; the final shattering of the crystal. I imagine this happening much sooner than in the original plot-line because Guardienne isn’t a hindering factor anymore, and I can see it happening with much more ease than how it originally played out. Perhaps they’ll lure the important members of the guard to another land - letting them think that they’ve caught Guardienne’s trail over there - and launch their final attack when no one who can stop them is around. They might decide to fuck with the guard one last time, running them around within the guard while Lance infiltrates the crystal room. Perhaps they decide to go out with a bang and capture the important members of the guard, binding them and closing off the crystal room so they can reveal their identities and the guard can watch as the people that were once held dear to them destroy their world while they’re helpless to do anything. It doesn’t matter much how it happens, though, at this point - with an angered dragon and two powerful demons - there’s nothing that the guard can do to stop them. In some ways it will hurt, knowing that this is the end of their beautiful story of revenge, but - no matter what happens after this - they’ll know they succeeded, and that will be the last truth Eldarya will ever know.

I think this may be one of the longer headcanons that I’ve written so far, and I’m very pleased with how it turned out! Also, Tumblr ate this ask while it was a draft once or twice (it was in the 3-draft radius of asks that were at risk of being eaten so it disappeared a few times) so it did take a bit longer to write than I’d hoped, but fortunately no progress had been deleted so I’m just fine with that.

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#eldarya #eldarya origins #eldarya lance #eldarya lance origins #eldarya lance headcanons #fenristheorem writing #askfenris

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pterodactylterrace · 4 years

Text

Guys Like You Chapter 6

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 6

Chapter Summary: More of a filler chapter, not much Henry, I’m sorry.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, pregnancy, poor self image, bad coping mechanisms, low self esteem.

{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5}

"I already told you, Faye! I don't want anything to do with this!"

"So because I want to keep my babies, you're leaving me? Is that what you're trying to tell me, David?"

"Yes! Shit, I knew you were dumb, but seriously!"

"Excuse me?"

"Are you deaf too, whore? How do you even know I'm the one that knocked you up? You've slept with just about every guy in town!"

"Get the fuck out."

"Don't come crying to me later! You're nothing without me! No one is ever going to want you. Especially once you have kids. Who the hell wants used goods? Have fun living a life of regret!"

Faye jerked awake, her head spinning as she tried to catch her bearings. Did David really leave her just like that? Sure he wasn't the greatest, but he had never lashed out like that before. At least not where anyone else could witness it.

No. David's gone. He has been gone for almost four years now. New life. Starting over. It's all in the past now.

Have to get the baby up before the sitter comes. Work is coming up soon. Life goes on.

"Briar, what are you doing on the floor?" Faye chuckled, crouching down next to her daughter, curled up on her pillow by her bed.

"I'm a puppy." Briar yawned in explanation, holding her arms up to be lifted, promptly licking her mother's cheek as soon as she was up.

"Briar, we talked about licking people."

"I'm not Briar, I'm puppy."

"Ok then, puppy, no licking people. Now what do you want for breakfast?"

"Puppy food."

"Cereal it is."

Feed the toddler, quick shower, get dressed, throw her hair up away from her face, wait for the baby sitter, hugs and kisses goodbye, then off to work. The usual routine she had settled herself into.

Feed the baby, because she's hungry and she comes first.

Shower, because she probably has some sort of mystery goo on her from the toddler.

Get dressed, avoid the mirror. No one wants to be reminded of how much they've changed. The softness she wasn't used to around her lower stomach, hips and thighs. Her breasts no longer as perky as they used to be. The stretchmarks competing with her tattoo's for attention.

Then, the hardest part of the day. "Ok, Briar, Mrs. Anderson is here. Mommy has to go to work. I love you."

"I love you too, Mommy." Briar responded, hugging her mother tight and kissing her cheek before she was sat back down.

"Have a nice day, Miss Warren."

"I hope she's not too much to handle."

"Never is."

Some days, Faye likes to pretend she's ok. Like she has a handle on things. Like she knows what she's doing and not just blindly stumbling through her life while trying to do right by her daughter.

Other days, she would absently push her sleeves up and her eye would catch on the black lines decorating her forearm, just below her elbow. Some days she's reminded that life is a bitch, and you can't always get what you want. On those days she tried to stay out of her own head, though that rarely worked.

She could slap on a smile with the best of them, but she could never force it to reach her eyes. Her face always remained an open book, free for anyone to read. The past creeps up on you. There's nothing you can do to stop it some days. On a bad day, the ghosts of the past will haunt your mind, echoing the worst days of your life into the void of your shattered heart.

"No one is ever going to want you!"

"You're nothing without me!"

"Who wants used goods?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Warren. There was nothing we could do."

Over and over on a seemingly never ending loop, reminding her of the darkest times in her life.

Why would anyone want her? She's not the same hot twenty six year old she used to be. She was soft. She was saggy. She would never be as attractive as she used to be. Anyone in their right mind would turn around and run once they realized how much she had let herself go.

Days like today were best spent keeping people at a distance. Tell them some story about being tired. Avoid anyone that is going to call her out on her obvious lie. Therein lies the problem with dying your hair obnoxious colors. Among a sea of blonde and brunette, powder blue tends to stick out and make it almost impossible to vanish.

Lie your way out of it. Survive another day. Tomorrow might not be better, but at least it won't be the same.

"Mommy, you're back!" The sweetest sound she could hear all day.

"I always come back, my little love." Faye assured, kissing her daughter's head.

Need to care for the baby. She comes first. She deserves the world. Play time. Dinner time. Bath time. Story time. Bed time. The same after work routine she had established months ago when she decided to drop everything and run.

Her daughter thought the world of her. She would do anything to see her smile. She would wear the stupid costume. She would pretend to be a horsey. She would let her daughter use her as a jungle gym. She would make the same dinner again for the third night in a row for her. So what if she soaked the bathroom floor during bath time? She was a mermaid, and she wanted to show off her tail. Story time, always an adventure with her imaginative little girl. What world would they find themselves in today? Dinosaurs? Princesses? Mythology? A rhyming book?

Ah, yes of course. Her current favorite, the book about the dinosaur cleaning his room. She was a girl obsessed with dinosaurs at the moment.

"Mommy, where's my Papa?" Briar asked, staring intently down at the page depicting a mother and father watching the dinosaur throw away paper scraps.

"Don't worry about him, sweetheart. He wasn't a nice man." Faye explained, resting her cheek on her daughter's head.

"Can I have a new Papa?"

"Maybe someday, sweetheart."

"Can Spider-man be my new Papa?"

"Why do you want Spider-man to be your new Papa?"

"He's my boyfriend!"

"That's not how it works, silly. If he's your boyfriend, he can't also be by boyfriend! Pick another hero!"

"Batman!"

"Well, he is rich." Faye mused, Briar giggling happily. "Now it's time for bed, my love."

"Ok, Mommy. I love you!"

"I love you too, Briar." Faye whispered, kissing her forehead. The nightlight was switched on and the door was left cracked open, just in case. Now for her seldom used free time.

Should she sketch some more? Finish that painting she started forever ago? Ever since she started a "real" job, her art had fallen by the wayside. She was too drained to do much after work and caring of her daughter.

Maybe some drawing will lift her spirits and keep the nightmares at bay tonight. But what to draw? Not in the mood for still life. Brain too fried for something straight from her imagination. Her usual model was sleeping, and her last few self portraits had been a serious blow to her ego. She just drew what she saw in the mirror. Then, when she was finished, she decided she should have worn more clothing before she drew herself. What was supposed to boost her confidence and empower her as a woman instead left her wondering when exactly she developed that roll when sitting in that position.

"Fuck it. I'm drawing a moose." Faye grumbled to herself, turning the page from her self portrait to a blank sheet. Half an hour later when she was trying to remember what a moose's antlers looked like, she finally picked up her phone. Seven unread messages? That seems like a lot. When was the last time she looked at her phone? Oh yeah, when she got home, five hours ago.

All from one person. So she wasn't ignoring everyone at least. Seven messages, all from Henry. Shit. That's not good.

Are you ok?

You seemed off on set today

You didn't even talk to me

Did you at least make it home alright?

Can you send me a sign of life?

I'm sorry if I upset you or something. Can you please talk to me? I'm genuinely worried.

Please?

Well, fuck. Here she was playing unicorn apocalypse with her daughter, and this poor guy was worrying himself to death.

Sorry, I was drawing a moose

Perfect way of saying "I wasn't ignoring you" while also avoiding his persistent questions about her wellbeing. The good old 'drawing a moose' excuse. Works every time.

I think your moose aged me by ten years. Are you ok?

Just had a bad day

Anything I can do to help?

Squeeze me until I stop struggling and my spine snaps

That's called 'murder' Miss Warren

I knew there was a name for it

Is there anything I can do for you that involves less prison?

Nah, if you're not going to take me out, then I'm not interested

I'm not going to take you out by murder. I will take you out on a date.

Faye froze, staring at her phone. He was just playing around, like he always did. No way he was serious. Henry liked to flirt, and she wasn't about to throw herself at him over a joke. She had more dignity than that. So how does she respond? She can't just ignore him, and taking forever to respond is going to give the impression that she was freaking out over what he said.

She was completely freaking out over what he had said, but he didn't need to know that. Was he just looking to get laid or something? Probably. He had gotten pretty close the last time he had been over. There's a difference between dating and screwing, though. He was probably just looking for someone to fuck while waiting for a woman worth his time to come along. Faye was broken out of her thoughts by her phone going off again, alerting her to a new message. Didn't he know she was busy having an existential crisis?

If you're free on Sunday you can come over and show me that moose your working on

*you're

Smart ass

Sunday?

I'll have to see if Mrs. Anderson can watch Briar

Bring her along. She keeps asking me about Kal

Pretty on brand for her

Sunday?

Sunday.

Sunday. What to wear on Sunday? He was probably looking for a little something something for his time, so something slutty? She got rid of all her slutty clothes after she had Briar in a fit of self hatred toward her new mom bod, so that was out. Besides, he wouldn't have invited Briar over too if he was looking to get laid.

So what does one wear on a casual 'date' these days? She had until Sunday to figure that out.

Tag List: @Xxxkatxo @Weallhaveadestiny

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #guys like you #guys like you fic #triggering themes

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