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skyloftian-nutcase · 24 days

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The Great Boopathon

Twilight

It had honestly been an accident, a truly sincere miscalculation. Sky tried to remember that Wolfie was Twilight. But sometimes, when the fluffy animal trotted into town, panting from exertion or cheer, Sky just immediately knelt in front of him with a sweet greeting and a gentle boop on the nose.

He didn't think it was possible for an animal to look so offended, but somehow Twilight managed it.

Sky

This was war.

Twilight huffed as he watched Sky sleep. The teenager was out cold, as per usual, curled into himself and covered in blankets. It was a little more unusual than his usual sleep position, in which literally anything was possible because he could fall asleep literally anywhere, but the boy's head cold had him shivering.

That didn't stop Twilight, though. He still remembered the boop. The completely humiliating and degrading gesture, the cute noise Sky made with it as he bapped Twilight's wolf nose gently with a smile on his face and a flush to his cheeks.

Sky moaned miserably, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Twilight swallowed, grabbing his resolve. He walked forward stealthily before laying on the ground, his canine nose stretching forward until it met Sky's own congested one. Then his tail swished back and forth, dusting leaves off the earth.

Sky scrunched his nose in response, tickled by the wetness of it, before he opened his eyes to see a snout. He yelped, trapped in his blankets, and Twilight pounced on him, bapping him with a paw and pinning him in place as he laughed and tried to fight.

Abel

"There's no way you can do it!"

Link glared defiantly in response. He would do this, and there was no stopping him. He would always rise to a challenge. He couldn't afford to fail, he couldn't afford to lose the faith of those who believed in him.

He was stealthier than he'd ever been in his entire life. He could pass for a Sheikah, he was certain. His heart pounded in his chest, anxiety trying but failing to whittle away at his resolve. His naysayer watched with bated breath.

The greatest challenge, of course, were the floorboards. There were some that creaked. It would be absolutely catastrophic if his foe heard his approach. Carefully, Link tried to remember which boards creaked the most, settling his bare feet with such care to distribute his weight properly.

When he finally reached the bed, he nearly failed in his mission. His enemy stirred, almost awakening, but he managed to avoid disaster. Finally, his objective in sight, the Hero of Hyrule leapt, landing on his prey with a mighty hyah.

Abel nearly jumped out of his skin as he was startled awake before getting slammed in the face with a pillow.

"I told you I could do it!" Link yelled at the stairway where his sister, Lyra, was hiding.

Daruk

The leader of the Gorons had many precious memories to make him smile when he was more contemplative in the evenings. Perhaps his favorite, though, was when the Champions met his child, who had been so delighted to meet them that he'd rolled over Revali's toes and crashed into Link's knees, knocking the Hylian over. It had been a fun day in general, but the little boop his boy had given him when he picked him up had been the most delightful part.

It was usually what Daruk would do for the child before bedtime; to have such a simple gesture reciprocated brought him more joy than he could ever articulate.

Shadow Link

He had nearly succeeded in getting away from the damn gloom hands, but his stamina had run out. When they'd caught up to him, he could practically sense the displeasure radiating off them, and his insides froze at the sight of them.

Then one of the hands leaned over and booped him on the nose, making him yelp, before the others grabbed him and teleported him through the gloom back to Ganondorf's location.

"Was that really necessary?" Link grumbled, holding his nose as if it had been burned.

"Yes," the demon king replied without hesitation as he snatched him by his tunic and plopped him beside him. "Now rest."

Mystery Link

Link wasn't sure how it happened, but being completely smothered by his dog was not how he wanted to start his mornings. Nevertheless, it was how Friend decided to be his new morning alarm, slapping his face with a paw as a warning before laying her whole head over him and asphyxiating him.

By the fifth morning, he started wrestling her in response, and she always got so excited about it that she would spend the next few minutes zooming all over the forest, tail tucked and legs flailing in all directions.

Wind

Twilight was acting weird.

Wind was a little worried. After all, he'd only just recovered from his injury recently. Although the sailor had the utmost faith in the elder Hero's abilities, he couldn't help but watch him and see what was up. This was a matter of great importance, and only Wind could truly understand as the others seemed completely oblivious.

He made several observations while the others were pointlessly distracted. Twilight's eyes were wary, looking everywhere as if he were expecting an attack. Wind knew for certain that the rancher hadn't been patrolling because Time and Wild wouldn't allow for it quite yet. But no one else was on edge. It was possible Twilight just felt inadequate or useless, as he was typically the one who tried to shoulder a great deal of responsibility.

Wind moved closer to his dear friend, curious. He was going to ask him outright if he kept this behavior up, but--

Twilight gasped, grabbing Wind around the ribs and holding him like a shield in front of his body, and Wind yelped as Sky poked his nose.

"Hey!" Sky snapped. "No cheating!"

"There are no rules in this war!" Twilight huffed back. Then he gave Wind a squeeze against his torso as a compensatory hug. "Sorry about that, little pirate."

"Ha! Sorry? Let me go, I'll avenge you!" Wind happily offered, already wiggling out of his grip as Sky fled.

Time

"This is getting out of hand," Time said severely, hands on his hips. "And is unbefitting of a Hero."

Twilight looked extremely schooled. If he were in his wolf form, he probably would have his tail between his legs, ears peeled back. Time did not feel guilty in the slightest about it. The camp was in utter disarray, supplies strewn everywhere as Twi's wolf form had utterly destroyed the place and barreled over most of the heroes while he'd tried to escape Sky's little winged mechanical booping machine and Wind's exuberant screams.

Unlike Twilight, Sky looked nearly indifferent, but somehow he managed to convert his expression to apologetic when Time glared at him. Wind, however, was unrepentant.

And giggling.

Time was going to lecture him further when the reason for Wind's laughter dropped out of the nearest tree, landing on Time's shoulders and booping him on the nose.

Sky and Wind cheered as Wild scrambled off Time and fled into the forest, giggling all the way.

#800 boops in twenty minutes is quite the achievement LOL #y'all are too powerful XD #writing #I was tied between Shadow and Mystery being my grumpiest OC Links so I just wrote both lol #different kinds of grumps I suppose #one is teenage angst paired with the insanity/horror of his situation #the other is just 100% Done with everything (which frankly is more fun LOL)#RIP Abel you never had a chance once Link was given a challenge #he does love his side quests and mini games after all and Lyra was ready to give him a challenge #Twi and Sky start to have a boop war #it gets insane #everyone gets dragged into it #Daruk being a Dad made me unexpectedly soft and happy #also RIP Revali's birdie toes #he deserves to be run over it's fine

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velvetburnt · 7 days

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im thinking about sydney and harper's relationship and how its been outright confirmed by purityguy that syd stayed at the asylum at some point, which is the reason they're so "pure" at first meeting while missing quite a bit of their memories

sydney also knows harper, it's safe to assume this is from the asylum times, but we don't know the extent of what happened between them.

and i want to assume it's because of harper doing their ... harpering, but also: how long ago was this exactly? because ultimately.. harper isn't that much older than the pc, and by extension, sydney.

paired with this line you can hear from a patient in the asylum, (that i cba to hunt down in the game itself,)

what exactly got harper sent to the asylum in the first place and how long ago was that? was harper always like that, or was it a gradual change, a weird evolution of sorts from being in the asylum for so long? how old was harper when they transitioned from a patient to a doctor? was harper still just a regular patient when sydney was admitted? were they already a doctor by then?

there's so many variables, which leaves so much room for theories!! and i love cooking my own food!! me personally?? i like the idea that harper wasn't quite a 'proper doctor' yet when sydney was admitted.

darling sydney, freshly traumatized from the loss of their parent, and from potentially having witnessed the rite being performed on kylar's parents.

harper, still a patient, probably around 18 years old or so, maybe a bit older? practicing and perfecting his hypnosis on other patients, including sydney. simple things like.. memory alteration. real convenient!

eventually, that skill lets harper to take up the role of a totally legitimate and licensed doctor. the doctors and nurses who took care of him are now his assistants. they always had been. and those who only knew him as a fellow patient... well, they can simply go ahead and forget about that entirely, can't they?

#sheddingvelvet.txt #this was supposed to be like a paragraph or two while i brushed my teeth and got ready for bed but #i like talking :)#anyway lalala i have THOUGHTS sorry this is weirdly put together and hard to read im SLEEPY #please feed me any and all harper lore scraps though i am dying to know more about this weirdo #i can't wait for more scenes with sydney and harper. those two are so tied together and i want to know more #not to even mention how ivory factors into all of it!!! ykno that one fuckin line about asylum patients and a pale figure? yeayeaye #especially when we eventually get more post-soft bad end scenes with the asylum like the one we got with whitney #i want an expanded scene like that with sydney and the asylum.#GRGHH ok words hard im going to bed #dol #degrees of lewdity #sydney the faithful #sydney dol #harper the doctor #harper dol

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yzafre · 5 months

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Roxas: Had the Halloween town kids throw bombs in his face for multiple missions in a row before finally breaking down and smacking them around a bit.

Ventus: The dwarves were rude and refused to talk to him, immediately resorted to chasing them down and whacking them.

Characterization I see frequently: Ah, yes, Roxas is the one always willing to throw hands and Ventus is a smol sunshine boy.

#kh #kingdom hearts #these are really silly examples but the point stands!#in fact I think it expands when you look at their full screen-time #I am once again begging people to watch a full let's play of Days #don't get me wrong Ventus IS brightness and sunshine #but he also has the energy of a chihuahua ready to fight the world and I will stand by that #where as Roxas will tend to just try to avoid it until he Very Much Can't #now I think Roxas does BITTERNESS better than Ventus or Sora #but bitterness is not temper #in fact bitterness is usually negative emotions left on the backburner until the resentment caves in on itself #I suppose this is up to interpretation but from my reading...#a lot of times Ventus seems to burn out his anger then let it go #whereas Roxas doesn't do anything with the emotions until he/the situation self-destructs catastrophically so it ends up being nastier #but on the day-to-day?#yeah no Ventus is going to be the one reacting first #you can also exchange Sora for Ventus for some of these arguments #though I think he lands somewhere between Ventus and Roxas for short-temperedness #all this is more complicated than this reductive commentary of course #you have to take in how and in what orders the characters were introduced and marketed #the difficulty of getting the handheld games historically and the biases that set in before they were easily accessed #not to mention stock archetypes for fandom joke set-ups that then perpetuate the characterization...#like there's a LOT to how this came to be #but it Gets To Me sometimes #yza talks about a thing

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mispatchedgreens · 1 month

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humbly, i present to you my collection of 'the radiant emperor' playlists:

1. i refer to you (my holy sovereign)

doomed by the narrative (but when you've written the narrative yourself); a general ouyang playlist

2. sunburst-black

alas, poor wang baoxiang!

3. misfortuned | 苦命

a playlist for the fic of the same name by hydrochaeris on ao3

#the radiant emperor #she who became the sun #he who drowned the world #general ouyang #wang baoxiang #xu da #and i suppose bc he is haunting the playlist narrative #esen temur #fanmix #these are pretty cohesive all together you've heard of compact disc club now get ready for compact dick sad is this anything #these are subject to change when i inevitably remember more sadcore guitar music that fits

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nari-writes · 3 months

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Tim Drake has Problems and Issues, and Batman is a capital-B-bad word. (ft. Jason Peter Todd, The Second Robin and Incorrigible Creature of Sass and Child Protection). aka. Blogging (and other dangerous activities likely to get you adopted by the Batman) chapter 2 (HECK). Part one | Ao3 Link

Tim finds out the next morning that the hecking Batman stole his camera’s memory card. He hadn’t even seen Bruce take it! Granted, part of his distraction had been the dark and the late hour and the suddenly-woken-from-sleep by what could probably be constituted as someone’s sleep paralysis demon, but wow. The slight of hand required, when Tim’s attention had been worriedly and entirely focused on his camera? He’d been paranoid that Bruce would take the camera as punishment for his photos - but he hadn’t even noticed Batman stealing his SD card.

He’s prepared to write it off as the price of his identity being discovered - because he’s got two others and can fetch a third next weekend for backup - when he has the sudden, horrified realisation that he hadn’t finished formatting the card last night. It had been cold and he’d wanted to make Jason smooshing into a snowbank into a gif for his blog, and by the time he’d finished that and posted it, his eyelids were basically shut and he’d still needed to pull the other photos off the card. He thought he’d have time to format it this morning because his dad had a golf thing early, and Tim and his mum were only going later for the brunch and the mingling after everyone had finished playing, but-

But he doesn’t have time. Because Batman had stolen the card. The card he hadn’t finished formatting, and last night he’d been playing around with slow exposure shots and taking pictures of Wayne Manor. He'd been playing around with the long lens he doesn't get to use often because it was too bulky and he'd been taking pictures of Wayne Manor.

Oh he’s so doomed. He’s got to get the card back before Bruce has time to look at it, if he hasn’t already. The photos are definitely going to be called creepy at best and at worst they’ll highlight Tim is well aware of his neighbour’s nighttime activities. Thankfully, the lack of alien mind-probing and Bruce Wayne at his doorstep at least indicate Bruce hasn’t had time to go through the photos. Yet.

Probably.

Freaking heck, he's so screwed.

Plan one is to just...break into Wayne Manor. It's a stupid idea, so he doesn't even put it on a back burner to muse over and discard later because there are way too many problems with it. How is he going to break into a) the home of a billionaire and b) the home of the literal dang Batman, most paranoid and prepared person on planet Earth? It's not happening. It would be nice if it was that straight forward, but it's not happening.

Plan two is his parents. They are technically home this week, and he's pretty sure he can get them to invite themselves into Bruce Wayne's house if he pretends Bruce wants to talk business. He knows how to get into his dad's emails, and if he acts fast enough he can get them to organise some sort of business meeting before his parents jet off again at the end of mid-semester break. It's still dependent on his parents staying till the end of the mid-semester break, though, and also on Bruce not being suspicious that Tim Drake, guy he just stole a camera from and also threatened, is coming to his house. It’s a pretty bad plan.

Plan three makes him feel kind of slimy, but it's the one that's most likely to work if he can't get around his parents.

Jason's self-defence classes, the ones Bruce totes as an ‘anti-kidnapping measure’, are run by the same person who teaches Tim’s classes on the other side of the city. He’s built up enough goodwill with her that he’s pretty sure if he looks dejected about his parents not being able to come to his Tuesday class to see his progress, she’ll let him join Jason’s Thursday class as a temporary measure, even though that class got booked out a day after Bruce’s kidnapping commentary.

From there it’s just a matter of prior parkour practice making him a fun match for Jason and Jason’s Robin training, and then Jason enjoying his company enough to chat to him after class so they’re still together when Alfred or Dick comes to pick Jason up, and Tim then letting on that he lives next door and oh no, looks like his parents aren’t picking him up, would it be at all possible to be dropped off? Then pretending to forget his key and his parents not being home to let him in - which, at least, is the part of the plan most likely to succeed, and it makes him a bit miffed that there are so many other points of failure - and getting himself invited to stay at Wayne Manor until his parents are free to pick him up.

On Thursday he’s pretty sure they have a dinner date with the Khadirs, and they actually like each other. It means his parents won’t be home till eleven at the earliest, which will give Tim plenty of time to search the manor.

Unless, of course, Bruce didn’t take the memory card into the manor and has instead stored it in the Batcave, which Tim knows exists but has never been able to access, or he’s given it to Dick or Oracle to look into, or even just Tim not being enough to keep Jason's attention-

God, he’s going to have to figure out how to make plan one work, isn’t he.

There just isn't time for plan three, because Bruce will totally have free time between now and Thursday and so much of it hinges on Jason wanting to talk to him when Tim's three years younger and five feet shorter, and it runs the risk of Jason recognising him from jaunts in Gotham. Plan two is better, but not by much, and he's concerned that Batman's legendary paranoia is going to have negative effects on Tim's success rate.

Plan one…maybe he can pretend to be selling cookies for the girl scouts? He's young enough to get away with it - but there's no way Mr. Pennyworth will let him inside, unless maybe it's raining. That'd be a weird situation to get into though - to walk between their properties when there's a better road, and to lug behind whatever eclectic collection of cookies he can find, and then invite himself into their house to get out of the rain. It'd look totally suspicious. And what respectable girl scout would sell things without the rest of their troupe? Or supervision. Or checking the weather. What respectable Gothamite would go out without checking the weather?

He would need it to be raining - which, to be fair, happens often enough in Gotham - but not have the day be dreary, so he has an excuse to have forgotten his umbrella. And, as everyone knows, when it rains on a day that's not dreary, it's normally acidic, and Tim's not keen on dealing with the raindrops burning scars into his scalp.

Scratch that, no girl scout impersonation is in his future. He could try and just break in and pretend a friend had dared him? But that wouldn't give him a lot of time to investigate, and no access to the Batcave.

Although. Why does he have to break into Wayne Manor?

Tim's eyes narrow in the mirror, lips twitching upward. Why not use Batman's paranoia against him? If there's the risk his memory card will be in the Batcave, why not start in the Batcave? He'll have two perfect excuses either way - there's likely no way to tell the Batcave is under Wayne Manor, so he won't be risking his knowledge of their identities - and Batman stole his memory card, so why wouldn't he track down Batman to get it back? Plus if he needs to go upstairs to find the card, he can always claim pre-teen prankster status, or even just leave and get back into Wayne Manor some other way. His parents will kill him if he gets caught in Bruce Wayne's house, but he'd rather be 'grounded' for the rest of the break then let Batman realise Tim's a stalker.

…Okay he probably already thinks that, but still. Tim’s not letting the Batman know about his collection of Wayne family photos. He'll never be able to walk around Gotham again.

He’ll never want to walk around Gotham again, on account of the fact that he’ll be dead from embarrassment.

So…now he just needs to break into the Batmobile and get himself driven into the Batcave. He's totally got this.

—-

Several hours later he’s still sure he’s got it, even if it’s not at the same level of total assurance it was that morning. He’s followed Batman and Robin around all night and neither of them have caught even a glimpse of him, and he knows they were keeping an eye out because they swung past his usual haunts twice. As if he’d be dumb enough to use the same spot after it’d been blown. He’s young, not dumb.

He’s also not dumb enough to beeline straight for the Batmobile the first time they leave it unattended, either. A few carefully thrown rocks from the fire escape reveal no perimeter alarms summoning Batman and Robin back if someone gets near the car, and even the ones he lets very carefully - he didn’t throw them hard at all, and made sure to stand closer he could aim better! - hit the tires and the door didn't set off an alarm.

It’s kinda stupid, actually. When Tim gets his SD card back he’s gonna send Commissioner Gordan a message about it so the Commissioner can use the information to make fun of Batman. That’ll be a good revenge for taking Tim’s stuff.

The lock’s harder than testing the perimeter alarms, though. His palms are so sweaty he has to keep wiping them on his hoodie to stop himself from leaving marks, and every noise makes him scamper back to hide behind a group of stacked cardboard boxes, just in case it’s Batman or Robin. It takes forever before he can get the trunk unlocked, but when he does he sighs in relief and quickly scampers inside.

There is…very little space. It makes sense, all things considered - what's the best use for a car, bar travelling storage space? - but Tim's thankful he's small and flexible enough to fit around all the junk. His mother’s yoga obsession is serving him well right now, because he's got one foot pressed against a spare tire and the other wedged by his ear, and if he were any less dedicated to Dick Grayson’s gymnastics routines he'd have already started to cramp.

He really hopes they have a short patrol tonight. It is a Monday, so chances are good that Jason at least will be sent home, and Bruce at least visits the Manor to (presumably?) put Jason to bed and (probably?) drop off evidence, but that still means at least two hours of this squished discomfort.

Except also it’s winter break, so Jason doesn’t technically have to be back at the manor for school the next morning. Tim scowls at the realisation that he’s probably gonna be here for ages. He breathes deep, trying to relax so he doesn't cramp up, and then pauses.

How does the trunk of Batman's car smell better than his dumb gloves?

There's a faint motor oil smell, but mostly it's just clean carpet and mint and a vague smoke, like the remnants of a campfire. It's nice, way nicer than the other times Tim has been shoved in a car boot (though at least he normally had more wiggle room when being kidnapped, even though handcuffs had made it impossible to utilise) and Tim's got plenty of time…his blink feels a little too long, but he doesn't bother to fight back a yawn. At least if he can get some sleep it'll make the time go faster and he can finally get to looking for his memory card.

His neck spasms, and Tim hisses between his teeth, awkwardly shifting his arm to try and ease the cramp. Sleep hovers out of his reach, but thankfully the pain eases and he slips into a drifting lull, the muted noise of late-night traffic enough to mimic the trees that normally rustle outside his bedroom window.

By the time the engine rumbles under his cheek, Tim's stumbled through half-dreams of Robin and long exposure shots and his knee is stiff enough that he knows getting out of the car is going to be difficult. Still, he's been lucky enough so far that Batman hasn't found him, and he's not about to trade a sore leg for a frogmarch back to his parents.

The pull of acceleration makes a tire press against his ribs, but bar the squish of things moving around, the actual drive is surprisingly smooth. He can't hear anything from the front seats, but it's still making his heart rabbit in excitement; he's so close to Batman and Robin, and they have no idea.

…No wonder Rouges pull plots all the time, if this is the amount of giddy adrenaline that hits you when you get away with something under Batman's nose. Tim feels like he's going to jitter out of his skin, and it's only the lack of space in the car that's stopped some excited hand flapping and gleeful wiggles. He can’t help it. It’s just so exciting to know he’s so close to Batman and Robin, the shadowy vigilante heroes of Gotham. He’ll never be able to talk about it, but it’s exhilarating to know his classmates will never experience anything like this.

The car rumbles through Gotham, her engine a purr of power, and Tim feels every corner and twist, even if he can’t figure out the road they take back. It doesn’t matter, though: he still knows where he’s going, and he knows his plan for when they arrive.

He needs to be careful. He has to wait. Tim tilts the edge of his watch towards his face and manages to wiggle it into the light coming through the brake light. It's just after 2am - but that doesn't mean Bruce has finished up his work as Batman. He'd made himself promise he wouldn't leave the car until 10am, which is when he normally sees Mr. Pennyworth drive Bruce into the city, presumably for work.

Theoretically he could get out earlier, but he knows 10am is the only verifiable time, and points of failure decree that he should limit them with available evidence whenever possible. That's rule number one in making sure your plans work with minimal adjustment - and he's already gonna have to do major adjusting when he gets out of the car. Like, for example, do they have cameras? How will he access them to hide his presence? What if Jason or Dick is in the Batcave instead of the Manor? Tim will probably hear them, but things are pretty muffled in the car.

Then the SD card itself - would Bruce put it somewhere logical, like near the computer? Should Tim check the computer to make sure no files have been copied across? Is what Tim considers logical going to be what Bruce considers logical?

And finally, getting out. Sure, they'll be way easier ways of getting from Batcave to Manor than vice versa, but what if someone sees him? Or what if there are extra cameras upstairs on a different security system?

He hates not having every point of information available for easy access, but there's nothing he can do here but his best.

Which. Disgusting. He hates that he just said that to himself but it's all he has to combat his nerves right now so unfortunately his best will have to do. After all, it's not within his power to get a blueprint of the Batcave, or he'd have just hacked the batcomputer and deleted his photos manually.

He sighs to himself longingly at the thought and hears the tires change from pavement to stone, and then an echoing reverb of machinery. The Batcave; it must be. He’s in the freaking Batcave. His heart pounds in his chest and he grins to himself, a tiny noise of excitement squeaking out of his throat. This past day-and-change has sucked in terms of his stress levels, but holy heck the fact that he’s currently in the literal Batcave has almost made everything worth it. How could it not, when Tim is in a sanctum so very few get to see? He’ll never be able to tell anyone, but that’s just par the course at this point - and he likes getting to keep his secrets.

Who cares if his parents never ask about what he’s been up to, when Tim can hold in his heart the knowledge that he is one of the privileged few that knows the Batman’s identity?

Sure, Bruce didn't tell him, but isn't it even cooler that Tim figured it out by himself? He'd only ever admit the daydreams on threat of telepath, but sometimes he's thought about Bruce finding out Tim knows and being impressed with him. Bruce would compliment him on his discovery, on the deductive reasoning and the evidence he collected to prove it; what else would impress the greatest detective in the world but someone of similar calibre?

It'd be amazing to have Batman invite him into more secrets, impressed by his faithfulness, but...

Tim's not stupid. Kids are a seen-and-not-heard subsection of the human species, especially kids like him, and Batman would likely only be pissed at Tim for being an uncontrollable liability. Better to make sure that, like everything else Tim thought important, it was kept his own personal secret. No need for Batman to get involved with Tim Drake if Tim Drake is a normal kid, and no need for his parents to drop him off at another boarding school for bringing trouble to their door in Gotham.

There's a sudden click, and Tim startles, head twisting as the trunk lifts. It gets him into the perfect position to be blinded as the trunk opens, and then-

“Ah,” he says, staring up at the cowl and cape, before swallowing thickly. “Hello.”

“This is breaking and entering,” says Batman, and Tim can't stop his scowl.

“That's super hypocritical. You literally broke into my house yesterday.”

“Your window was unlocked.”

“That's not an invitation!”

Batman makes a noise in his throat, and Tim tries to wiggle out from around the spare gear and the tire he'd wedged himself around. His attempt ends when Batman takes him by both biceps and physically pulls him from the vehicle, sitting him against the ledge of the trunk when he's free.

“I think breaking and entering requires you to not have driven him here,” says Jason, his voice a drawl of sarcastic displeasure, and Tim flushes and looks down at his shoes. Batman had known the whole time? He'd just…let Tim stay in the boot for the whole drive, and not done anything to stop him? How humiliating, to find out his oh-so-clever plan hadn't even survived first contact.

Batman's looking at him. Tim can feel eyes resting heavy on the back of his neck before Bruce says, “The Batmobile is well-outfitted with sensors and cameras to prevent theft or tampering. Prior experience assisted in advising me of the…issues with my security system.”

Jason's weight shifts, like he knows he's the ‘experience’ that highlighted the Batmobile’s weak spots, but Tim's stomach just feels wobbly.

“Do you enjoy lying?” Batman asks, and Tim's head snaps up.

“What?”

His stomach no longer feels wobbly. Now it just feels…gone. Like it dropped into his feet and took his guts with it. Is his face pale? It certainly seems like it should be, with how his fingers have begun to tingle, the too-hard pulse of his heart depriving him of oxygen.

“I distinctly remember you saying that I wouldn't see you out again at night-”

“You weren’t going to,” Tim says, feeling light-headed, the sentence cut off by his own recognition of a pitiful defence. Bruce’s mouth is a hard, flat line.

“Did you or did you not understand the intent behind the instructions I provided, Tim Drake?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, shoulders hunching. Because yeah, he had, but Batman hadn’t caught him in three years and he’d figured that his lucky streak would continue. Especially if he didn’t post anything on the blog, and Batman had no further proof of his existence and/or his defiance of Batman’s rule.

“Then, with that in mind, do you understand that your behaviour directly violates the rules we discussed, and additionally endangers your safety?”

He’s been scolded before. It still hadn’t felt like this, with humiliation making heat prick at his eyes. Batman's impassive, but you never look at Batman to know how he feels: you look at Robin. Tim chances a glance and sees Robin’s shifted on his heels, looking awkward and unhappy.

Bruce must be so mad.

“We didn’t discuss anything,” Tim says softly, his throat tight and his hands shaking as he tries to keep his emotions under control. “I’m careful. You just - you just ordered me around, but you don’t know me.”

“Kid,” Jason says, and Tim’s nails bite into his palm. “It’s our job to protect the people of Gotham-”

“You stole my stuff! You stole my stuff and deleted my archive and do you know how many people were upset? Twitter blew up about it. They like you! They like seeing you. It was important to them! It was important to me.”

…But why should Batman care? Tim’s long since learnt that things that are important to him don’t get to be in plain sight - his dad has broken his stuff before, and Tim’s not let that happen to anything he actually cares about for so long that he’s forgotten what it feels like. The feeling that he’s stupid for letting it get to him, when it doesn’t even really matter, the helpless, melancholic kick of being unable to change anyone’s mind-

“Aw, kid, hey,” Robin’s kneeling in front of him now, hands on Tim’s shoulders, and Tim’s mortified to realise he’s been sniffling. Can this day get any worse? Bad enough that his clever checks and foolproof plan were literally ignored by Batman so that Tim would stay out of the way tonight, now he’s crying? Like a child too emotional to be up past his bedtime? “Come on now, squirt, B-man’s an overbearing prick but the translation here is he’s terrified for you. It was dangerous for the site to stay up. Your photos were amazing - but you were so close to us. ”

“I wasn’t,” Tim says, wiping his runny nose across his sleeve, and then suddenly a black handkerchief drops into his eyeline. He pauses, tracing it up to Batman’s hand, and then pettily says, “...if this smells as bad as your gloves I don’t wanna use it.” Jason snorts and mumbles something that may have been a proud, I told you so.

(He still takes it. He’s not petty enough to refuse having a handkerchief from the Batman. This night has been a nightmare - at least he can still have the world’s most pity-present souvenir.)

“Distance,” Batman says softly, “was not the problem.”

“Okay,” Robin says, when Tim’s expression takes on a mutinous edge, “think of it this way for me, yeah? There’s a blog that’s gotten crazy popular because it’s started semi-regularly posting really good photos of us. Batman and Robin. And you, you’re Penguin or Riddler or Marone, whatever, you wanna know how the blog gets good pictures of us. Wondering how the photographer knows where we are. You start thinking maybe Batman’s trying to drum up good PR and then suddenly you’re thinking: hey, maybe this blogger knows the Bats.”

“I don’t!” Tim says quickly, and Jason looks over his shoulder at Bruce. Tim, desperate, follows his gaze, and-

Batman’s holding his SD card.

“Don’t you?”

#tim drake #bruce wayne #jason todd #batfam #batfam fanfic #nari is writing #tim drake sticks his foot in his mouth and gets adopted #tim drake & bruce wayne #tim drake & jason todd #dc fanfic #Robin #batfam fandom #I was NOT meant to write a chapter two. this wasn't supposed to happen. what am I doing here wtf #........anyway #more sass boy 👀#are we all ready for tim to LIE!!!!!!!!#little guy needs to commit some crimes <3 #oop

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augustslippedavvay · 1 year

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when i see you, the whole world reduces to just that room (eddie munson)

summary: after what feels like the longest year of your life, you’re ready to ring in 1987 in the wheelers’ basement with your closest friends, one of whom you’ve begun to think of as a little more than that - and you’re starting to suspect he might have, too.

author’s note: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!! idk i’m supposed to be finishing like, eight other wips but i decided to spur of the moment write a really self indulgent new year’s eve blurb bc why not!!! i’m feeling festive!!! i hope u like <33 also i scouted TIRELESSLY for lyrics for a good title for this before i settled on this one from ‘don’t delete the kisses’ by wolf alice - i looked through like a dozen ‘new year’s kiss’-esque playlists to find a good song LMAOOO

pairing: eddie munson x f!reader word count: 2k <3 warnings: none just fluffy nonsense, mutual pining, maybe a lil angst bc of the events of season 4

“I swear to all that is holy, if you two don’t make out tonight, I’m–”

“It’s not that simple, Buckley, okay?”

“It totally is that simple, Eddie! You’ve been crushing for ages, just kiss her already!”

“Everything alright in here?”

Eddie and Robin look up at where you’re leaning against the doorway, both of their faces pale, like you’ve caught them in the act of something reprehensible, but really they’re just standing in front of the kitchen sink talking in hushed voices. Which, in retrospect, isn’t any less suspicious. You cock an eyebrow. “I heard shouting.”

“Yeah, fine,” Robin says, smiling, then brushes past you on her way back to the basement. “Eddie and I were just discussing some very important business. I’ll be downstairs. Happy new year!”

“Happy new year,” you murmur, pressing a hand against her arm as she passes. You glance up at Eddie, frozen on the other side of the room, hesitating for a moment before stepping three paces closer. “You okay?”

Eddie hums, his back still turned to you. His Iron Maiden tee rides up on one side, exposing the tanned plane of his back as he reaches up to grab the champagne flutes Mrs. Wheeler keeps in the cupboard above the sink, where really nobody can reach them except the big kids, and now Mike, the beanpole. You press a thumb to your bottom lip contemplatively, take a small, shuddering breath.

“Are you sure? It sounded like you and Robin–”

“Yeah, sweetheart, all’s fine,” Eddie says, turning and gesturing towards himself with three glasses in his hand. “Can you help me grab the rest of these? Told Harrington I’d make sure they were ready for midnight.”

“Of course,” you murmur, taking the ones already in his hands into yours, your knuckles brushing only briefly against his, and watch him grab four more by the stem, wincing only slightly when they clink together. He turns to face you, meeting your eye momentarily and when you go to open your mouth again, he raises his eyebrows and angles his head in the direction of the basement. You sigh. “Yeah, sure, let’s get these downstairs.”

As you descend the stairs behind Eddie, you watch Robin, Steve, Vickie, and Nancy peel themselves apart, each of them giving you their own wary glances, heading off into different corners of the basement, busying themselves and avoiding your gaze. You stop abruptly when you reach the bottom of the stairs, try to cross your arms as far as they’ll go with the champagne flutes in your grasp.

“Seriously, you guys, what the hell is going on?”

“Nothing!” You shoot a glare at Robin, who crosses her heart with her fingers. “Nothing’s going on. Swear.”

“You’re all being so weird, and upstairs, in the kitchen, you and Eddie, like, practically jumped out of your skin when I walked in the room, and now this?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Robin insists, glancing sideways at Steve. “We, uh. We’ve all just been trying to convince Eddie to apply to work at that tiny new record store going in in the spring. He thinks it’s a long shot, but we all know he’s a shoe-in. He’s being too stubborn about it, honestly.”

Eddie scoffs, and you frown, but resume your descent, handing the champagne flutes to Steve, who sets them on a table set up in the furthest corner of the room. You glance at Eddie, suspiciously quiet, who’s ditched his own glasses and is now busying himself trying to figure out the TV.

“Fine, whatever.”

“We can have champagne tonight, too, right?” Max pipes up from the couch, and you narrow your eyes at her. She’s clearly in on whatever the others are up to, changing the subject like that. She holds her arms up defensively.

“No, Mayfield, everyone’s parents would kill me,” Steve scoffs, prompting some muttered insults from Max. “Hey, don’t roll your eyes at me. I’m serious.”

Protests pop up around the room, all of the kids suddenly offended at the prospect that they’re too young to have champagne with the rest of you, though they hadn’t been bothered until Max brought it up.

“I mean, I think, like, half a glass wouldn’t hurt?”

Steve looks at Nancy, eyes wide, a bewildered look passing across his face. “Nance, I thought I’d at least have you on my side!”

Jonathan laughs and throws an arm around Nancy’s shoulder. He shrugs. “What’s the harm, Harrington? Nancy’s parents are out of town, we’re all just gonna crash here anyway. Live a little, dude.”

“Yeah, Harrington,” Max grins, and Steve shoots her a warning glance.

“Fine, fine, whatever,” Steve says, glancing up at you. “Give me a hand again?”

Plastic cups of champagne are passed around, and you watch as everyone experiences it for the first time. El is sniffing the drink, not sure what to make of it, glancing up at Will, who seems not to mind the taste. Dustin, Lucas, and Mike are all watching Max for her reaction, and when she takes her first sip she immediately pulls a face, disgusted.

“God, it’s so…dry?”

Steve snorts. “It’s champagne, Mayfield! Get used to it!”

On the TV, everyone is preparing for the ball to drop. Jonathan grabs Nancy, Vickie grabs Robin, and you watch all of your friends hug and preemptively wish one another a happy new year. After the year you’ve all had, you can’t help but tear up a little at the sight of everyone you love safe and happy and together in the same room.

“Hey, uh,” Eddie whispers, standing at your shoulder with a full flute of champagne in his outstretched hand. You thank him and tap the glass against his own, watching him over its rim as you take your first sip. Eddie clears his throat, one hand clasped around the back of his neck. “You wouldn’t by any chance, I don’t know, want to be my new year’s kiss?”

You swallow the sparkling wine, trying to discern from the look on his face whether he’s being serious or not. His brown eyes are so bright, even in the dimly-lit basement.

When you realize he’s not joking, you take a step closer to him. “Yeah, yes, Eddie,” you breathe, one hand pressed against his chest through his tee shirt. Your hand holding your drink drops to your side, and Eddie clasps one hand around it.

“Yeah?” He says, grinning, and you nod one more time for good measure. One hand against the side of your face, Eddie lets out a long breath, his cheeks flushing. “You’re sure?”

“Munson,” you whisper into the space between your open mouths, and as the countdown starts, everyone in the room chants along. Five, four, three– “Kiss me.”

Eddie hardly hesitates, and when the clock strikes midnight, he presses his lips to yours before you’ve even had the chance to close your eyes. His mouth is soft, his body so warm. His nose bumps against yours when you shift your head to deepen the kiss, which he welcomes for a moment before pulling away.

You all cheer, ringing in the new year, and now your frostbitten cheeks mirror his own, laughing as you catch Steve’s eye.

“It’s about time,” Steve says, rolling his eyes, but it’s playful, and you glance up at Eddie, watching as a smile makes its way onto his face, and you start to smile, too. You shove Steve’s shoulder then tuck your face into Eddie’s neck, who wraps one protective arm around you.

“Be careful aiming that attitude at my girl, Harrington,” Eddie teases, palming the back of your neck, pulling your face back to look him in the eye. His gaze is drawn down toward your lips, still wet from his, and kiss-reddened, for only a moment before it meets yours once more. The affection you’re faced with almost knocks your knees out from under you.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you respond, leaning forward enough to push your nose against his. Eddie grins.

“He’s right, you know,” Eddie whispers, and you nod. He is right. “Been wantin’ to do that for so long, you’ve got no clue. Just never plucked up the courage.”

“Is this what all of you were up to tonight? Which one of these hooligans finally convinced you to do it?”

“Um, all of us hooligans, actually,” Steve murmurs, chugging the rest of the champagne in his flute and pulling a face. Robin gives you a guilty look and mouths Sorry! when you aim a halfhearted glare at her. “He was like a lovesick puppy. It was gross, the way he’d moon over you, making eyes at you whenever you turned your back.”

Eddie makes a noise in the back of his throat, shaking his head. “I was not mooning, Harrington.”

“Oh, you were mooning, man. Thank God that’s over.”

“Hey,” you murmur, grinning up at Eddie. “If I tell you I was mooning, too, but I was just better at hiding it, would that make you feel any better?”

“You know what,” Eddie sighs, planting a kiss on your cheek. “That does make me feel a lot better, sweetheart. Thank you.”

“No problem, baby.”

Eddie laughs at the pet name and pushes both hands up under the back of your shirt, pulling you tight against him, one of his thumbs underneath the band of your bra.

“Seriously, should we give you guys the room, or?”

“Shut it, Henderson,” Eddie grumbles, leaning down and pressing his lips back to yours once, twice, three more times.

You grin against Eddie’s mouth and finally pull back for good, and when he whines, you give him a searing look. “We can continue this when there aren’t minors present, Munson.”

“Sounds like a plan to me, sweetheart.”

You begin to make your way around the room, hugging each of your friends close. Wishing everyone a happy new year. Knowing the cost everyone paid to be here today. Thankful to still be alive to hold the people you love. Glancing over at Eddie every once in a while, and finding that he’s already watching you, a sweet, shy smile on his face.

And if you fall asleep that night on the couch spooning Eddie, waking up in the small hours of the morning to turn him in your arms and kiss him silly, no one else has to know. You pull away from him, lips aching from the memory of his against yours, and click your tongue.

“You really spent all year pining after me?”

“Well, not...all year long.” You give him a knowing look, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear, and he laughs softly. “Okay, yeah, most of the year. I swear it wasn’t as bad as Harrington made it seem, but you just - you made it really hard not to fall in love with you, sweetheart, what with saving my life, you know,” he whispers, biting his lip, and sucks in one more sharp breath before finishing with, “and all.”

Fondness softens your gaze.

“You should’ve said something, Eddie,” you murmur, bringing your hand back up to run your knuckles across the side of his face. He preens at your featherlight touch, pursing his lips, his gaze slipping down to your mouth. “You should’ve said something sooner. I would’ve let you kiss me, like, six months ago, if I knew.”

“Yeah,” he says, laughing. “We got a lot of time to make up for.”

The two of you fall into silence, and Eddie smiles at you, a slow, soft, lover’s smile, meant only for you in the dark of the Wheelers’ den, the unspoken thought that thank God you even can make it up hanging between you. It’s not lost on you that it’s a miracle you’re even holding him it all.

The others are scattered, asleep, elsewhere in the house. All of these people you love, these kids who’ve had to grow up so fast, who’ve all faced the prospect of a terrifying end head-on and found respite in one another after the fact. The strongest, bravest group of humans you’ve ever met.

You hum, lost in thought, and shift so your face is pressed between Eddie’s neck and his pillow, your mouth against the skin right behind his ear.

“We have all the time in the world, Eddie.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson/reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things season four #eddie munson stranger things #emily writes #lil blurb #i finished this while i was supposed to be getting ready to hang out w my friends tonight #the things i do for the little fanfiction people in my phone smh i love u all mwah i hope u like this!!!#also i read through it 3 or 4 times and spotted a few spelling/grammar mistakes that i fixed #but i might have missed more so sorry if u come across any!!!#also my 'c' key stopped working while i was writing this aksljdngfkl

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piningprecussionist · 3 months

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Template by @juni38

Im going to be completely frank with you all... and admit that I read these options and wasn't sure how to take this chart,,, so uh. Under the cut is Another Version. I'd apologize but I've given you the option to keep scrolling ¯\_(･･)_/¯

(If you notice characters missing on Kim's side, I probably figured she doesn't know who they are lol)

For the record,,, if they *wanted* me to pull their hair-- *is shot several times before I can continue*

Uhh Matthew is here because I have been converted fully on he/him or enby lesbian Matthew I think. He lives in my brain rent free now, very gender. I'd pull his hair but also I think he mostly just deserves to have it played with nicely.

And Scott's here because 1) I enjoy trans Scott, 2) Kim Pine Brain Rot possibly, 3) idk he's like,, the exception. God damnit, I've fallen for the inexplicable Scott Pilgrim Effect. What the fuck--

I did think about doing this chart like everyone was actually applicable to my tastes, but even if they were I think the ones I didn't put up would have to fall on the caress side bc I just don't feel that way abt them lol.

Again, not to say that's the case for the gals over on that side,,, I just think I would want to be gentle w them shxkdjsdhbd with the exception for Lynette who probably deserves to have her hair pulled, but again I fear she would Hurt Me,,, but maybe in a fun way,,,

Anyway No One Look At Me....

(,, also,,, Ramona is so far over bc I think she would enjoy it,, otherwise she'd be closer to Kim in that section. Same thing w Roxie)

If anyone actually looks at this version, I'm not opposed to doing a version like this for Kim btw! Just ask for it so I feel like I'm not just Dropping This and scurrying away

#sp comic #meme #kim pine #id tag more people but i Do Not Have The Strength....#also i like Living and I think the idea of more people seeing the suggestively taken one makes me want to Die a little #(not to say you cant reblog this or whatever im just being dramatic shdjejsdhdhgdd I am generally a fairly Reserved person)#for the kim chart- i based my other scott placement on the interaction theyve had here! i think if they interacted for real or more often +#+ he'd end up definitively in the Pull Roughly suggestion with most people #ooc #he maybe if i finish edits for everyone i could try this w the au stuff. kit's thoughts might be different here...#hey*#also let me know if i forgot anyone??? i thought abt including the robots but. no hair. and gideon the cat has Fur so. on technicality-#but like barring parents and peter i think i got most people #i guess if lainey was here she'd go somewhere in the middle or right? w/out knowing what she'd be like #FUCK I DIDNT MEAN TO POST THIS. I MEAN IT'S HERE NOW SO IM NOT REMOVING IT BUT I AM S C R E A M I N G I WASNT READY #ah i forgot crash and the boys actually. thats why i wasnt supposed to post this yet #uhhhh Pull Roughly for like all of them. except trasha. trasha gets head pats and a juice box #except for on Kim's chart. on Kim's chart she's in the pull roughly section I can't lie to myself. she hates that kid 😭 also on that note +#+ knives should probably be in the middle section. like she wants to pull it for her having copped her style and being stupid abt scott.#but I didn't put her there bc I feel like even if she wants to she wouldn't ya know? knives is a Precious Angel after all

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martyrbat · 9 months

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hm hm hm i feel like this will be really interesting to read with the knowledge of korra and how that effected her instead.... because korra (from my limited knowledge so i could be talking out my ass here) knew she was the avatar at an early age and DID get that community. she had katara and her parents, she had her mentors, she was isolated from the real world during so and perfected the elements other than air (which i kinda recall her struggling with and how its the opposite element of earth so im excited to see if those kinda play out :3) and she was more eager to be the avatar and the excitement and significance it brought (which was a bit clouded by her being sheltered but also would have been expected more before the war impacted things)

i also remember matty saying kyoshi struggled with earth bending (which im super excited to get to and see/see her journey and how it will differ) but!!! i just think its really fun how theyre kinda off the bat setting up this expectation and new grounding for readers who have a past grasp of the avatar universe. even as someone who isnt super familiar with the lore, i know enough to recognize that oh! thats something new!! so just kudos to the writer(s?) for just setting this up to be something very different and in a natural way :3

#again. talking out my ass here. if im an idiot no one say anything okay? okay <3 #but i think its fun to already see some parallels or ways kyoshi and korra are different or similar #and how korra got the set-up stage that was considered ideal (i think?) for these two characters #like !!! the avatar is supposed to know theyre the avatar at a young age!#and aang learning when he was 12 instead?? i think?#or being told hey man you gotta fucking get ready/do your teen duties instead of preeteen ones cause theres a war....#but no sorry my head is scattered i cant keep a line of thought but the point was i know a lot of people bash korra because shes too #‘abrasive’ or comfortable with being the avatar when?? for previous experiences that eagerness was something more expected (i think)#like its so difficult to make a solid grounding argument when im not lore caught up but korras excitement to be the avatar and that she #knows its significant and important is something that would been encouraged before the war because of that hope and belief #that the avatar will keep that balance or save the world when others cant. aang disappearing and the genocide and war #obviously effected how people will see the avatar in universe and how her teachers are more hesitant and restrictive #none of this makes sense im just thinkin to myself while half distracted lol but ! go cringegirl bosses go !!!!#RoK (ransom style)

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good-beanswrites · 9 months

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And here's Emergency with Kazui for @qrevo, thank you for the request! I realized as much as Kazui's moment saving Fuuta lives in my brain, I haven't ever written anything for it, so have some more Kazui propaganda haha! (There's reference to violence, but no graphic descriptions or anything 👍)

Kazui may have joked that his reflexes were dulling with age, but they were still perfectly intact when called upon. He thought leaving his profession behind meant he’d no longer be the first responder to an emergency situation. He thought that he’d be done stumbling onto blood-covered scenes of victims and assailants. Milgram had proved him wrong.

He left many of the others in the common room, enjoying a lighthearted conversation after dinner. He stepped into the dim prison hallway, hoping to grab a cigarette from his cell and return in time to catch the end of Shidou’s story.

There rose some shouting from up ahead. Kazui picked up his pace, but there was no need to get too worked up, he thought. Mikoto had been awfully loud in his cell after his verdict. Tensions were high among the prisoners, and squabbles broke out all the time. Even upon recognizing Fuuta and Kotoko’s voices, he figured the two were having one of their usual disagreements.

It was only when he could make out some of Fuuta’s desperate words that his instincts kicked in.

“Help! Please! Is anybody -- aargk!”

Kazui’s feet were pounding across the prison before he had a moment to think. Everything snapped into focus. His time in Milgram had felt like some strange dream, but now his senses became completely clear.

He followed the noise, now recognizing the sickening sounds of violence and agonized cries between each. Though he could already piece together what was going on, his training had him peer around corners and into cells to be sure there were no other threats. He went flying into Fuuta’s cell.

He had only a second to take in the scene. Kotoko was winding up for a kick -- another kick by the look of it. Fuuta was curled in a heap in the corner, his uniform straps tangled around him. His hands shielded his face. All of which, and the ground below, dripped with blood.

Kazui took Kotoko’s arm, yanking her back before her boot could connect. She recovered much quicker from her surprise than he expected. She shifted her weight around, using new leverage to escape his grasp. As she took a swing at him, he suddenly recalled their earlier conversation about fighting styles.

He blocked blow after blow. Damn, she was strong.

“Kotoko, what is all this? I’m not trying to hurt you, but you can’t --” Kazui grunted as she landed a solid hit. He continued rattling off some typical deescalation attempts, but she didn’t hear a word of it. She hardly even looked at him, keeping her eyes trained on Fuuta as they fought.

“He’s a killer,” she said evenly. “Do you even know what he’s done?”

“Do you?”

“It’s unforgivable.”

“It’s not your call to make!” At last, Kazui managed to shove her outside the cell. She stumbled back. The two took a breath.

She wiped blood from her lip where Fuuta must have struck back. “The warden knows this is true justice. You know it is, too.”

Then, she disappeared around the corner.

Kazui stepped out to be sure she wouldn’t return. He ran back to Fuuta the moment she was out of sight. She wasn’t his top priority.

He found Fuuta mumbling to himself, still clutching his face. Kazui had only seen him with his confident, fiery attitude. He felt his stomach clench hearing the boy whimper in pain and fear. Kazui often forgot how young these prisoners truly were.

“Hey, it’s okay. She’s gone. Hey, look at me.” He gently took Fuuta’s hands, pulling them away to assess the damage. His face twisted at the sight. This was more than he was equipped to handle.

Fuuta’s hands wrapped back around himself. He gasped for air. “She… please… I can't... my eye…”

“You’re going to be alright. Just stay with me.” In a swift motion, he swung Fuuta over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. The boy cried out, but Kazui was already on the move. He called to Shidou from down the hall.

As soon as he set foot in the common area, he began giving orders. He told Shidou to examine Fuuta's condition, laying him on one of the tables. He demanded the others stay put until he could find Kotoko. He asked where the other guilty prisoners were. Most just gaped at him in shock. Though their delayed reaction was frustrating in the moment, he understood their surprise. He realized it was the first time he’d raised his voice since coming here. He’d always sat back and let the others take the lead; it was probably strange to see a laid back man like him suddenly taking charge.

Yuno leapt to her feet, already ignoring his warnings. He caught her with an arm before she could run out the door. “Oh god, Mahiru!”

“I’ll find her. Don’t leave.”

He turned on his heel and went running once more.

#milgram #kazui mukuhara #with others #its probably the expected answer for milgram/emergency lol but i still wanted to try my hand at the scene #its cool now knowing that kazui had some sort of background that helped him out -- i always thought it was a strength thing so it #was exciting for him to reveal that in cat #i think shidou gets a lot of credit for being the hero and taking charge in this moment (which is fair)#but i definitely think it could be kazui instead -- even though his character is cowardly itd fit to have him take the lead here #also RIP fuuta was supposed to play more of a role ;-; i went into this ready to put a pretty equal focus on both he and kazui #and as i wrote i was like. oh right. he dieded.#so i shall write something more fuuta-centric another time...#anyway hope you enjoy -- thank you for the request woo!#drabbles

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