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hermioneismyrealname · 1 year

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Zomvivor (soon 2023)

OK!

So we have a thai zombie drama coming up.

GOOD!

I'm looking forward to it mostly because of the cast like Boun, Nunew and Boss are gonna do their darndest to act the heck out of their roles. They deserve an opportunity like this to showcase their skills. (Can't find the imdb to get the names of the rest of the actors because I can't place names to faces (wish me luck for my exam))

HOWEVER,

I DONT WANT ANY OF THIS "EVERYONE SURVIVES" BULLSHIT

I will be severely critiquing the writing choice and the plot points. As a zombie apocalypse preppy, I have taken it upon myself to watch too many zombie movies to analyze and shout at the TV screen when something stupid happens. My laptop and this series will have no exemptions. I will look at

Decisions made by the characters based on emotions and current circumstances

Character flaws (written in purposefully and accidentally)

The type of zombie... yes I have a chart

The consistency of the zombie (whether they evolve or they have an abrupt and(or) one-time change to fit some plot hole the writers didn't think of)

The development of the plot (whether the character were able to make a decision to progress their advancement of the story)

The evolution of the characters (from beginning to the end, I.e. Train to Busan or All of Us are Dead)

Use of surroundings (potential for weapons and protection)

Rationality of the situation ( i.e. would this happen with this type of zombie outbreak)

Whether this is Train to Busan or World War Z (antagonist(s) aspect)

Established backgrounds (characters, environment, etc...)

Likelihood of events (outcome of rational decisions)

Origin of the outbreak (I love or hate this part; no in between)

Plot twist (would there suddenly be an evolution in the antagonist or deus ex machina for ep 11 plot curse)

Ending (is the ending feasible or even remotely believable) (satisfying in terms of logistics. I've seen and survived banana fish and merlin, emotional satisfaction is a luxury I can live without. There are always fix-it fics people)

LEAST IMPORTANT (to me)

zombie makeup or acting. I know they are doing their best and working the hardest with what they've got but not all dramas have the resources or time to be making the best chewed up face or train the best limp run for all the hundreds of actors they're employing.

AND MOST IMPORTANT (to me)

Who dies and why? (Dont want any cheap deaths. If they are going for cheap though, I want it to be tragic... like Ash Lynx or Arthur (bbc merlin) tragic. I said "survived", not "moved on from")

Before you ask, "Hermione, why can't you just enjoy the series for what it is?"

I used to be a beta reader. I trained myself to look for faults in every aspect of my life. Not healthy? Couldn't care less; it gets me an A in my exams. Plus zombie apocalypses are one of the few things that I enjoy scenario tripping. Give me a situation in a zombie apocalypse and I'll get an answer to get out of it... or into a safer environment during the happenings of the outbreak. So, if I want to enjoy this series, there better be some established dumbass characters in the series so that for any stupid decisions made, I can excuse due lack of competency. I will sincerly support the actors because I love them to bits, but I will be fucking critical.

Also heard about Prem's "The Box" and I am looking forward to it but I will have to watch it with someone. Zombies, I can handle. Ghosts? Eh, not so much. Not that they bother me. They always add cheap jump scares which reminds me.

Levels of intensity (the situation that presents itself i.e. the stakes)

I will not tolerate jump scares. They are cheap and worthless. However, Thailand has a good reputation for horror so on top of my high standards for horror, I also have high expectations.

Edit: just saw the trailer, or the trailer for the trailer if you will

And I already have a few things to say but I'll keep it limited because it is not the full trailer.

Abandoned building with students. After school dumbassery I'm assuming however, the rest of the hoard was also wearing school uniforms so section of the school under renovation then. All of us are dead format, plausible.

Their separation and gathering intrigues me

I can understand someone (I think it was Zee) getting a wooden 2x4 which is great, but I also saw someone with a bloody bat. Now, that person could have been in the sport supplies so, I'll give it a pass.

The blocked off areas don't surprise me as this has been established as a construction site of some kind, but does get me ticking is the clumsy stacking of materials I saw. Barricade or not it was not well put together.

WHY DO THEY HAVE THEIR SHIRTS HALF OPEN??!!! THIS REALLLY PISSED ME OFF BECAUSE SAFETY! OPEN CHEST DOES NOT INCREASE MOBILITY, JUST ALLOWS MORE CHANCE OF A SCRATCH.

SKIRTS NEED TO BE CROPPED! THATS GRABBING MATERIAL! RIP IT UP FOR FUTURE BANDAGES AND LESSEN THE CHANCES OF GETTING YANKED BY THE UNDEAD

AS SOON AS THE ZOMBIES START TO GROAN IM CUTTING MY DAMN HAIR! SEE ME IN A PONY TAIL? NU UH! I'm not having my hair tugged by rotting fingers. Keep it short and out of your eyes. Beauty standards can wait until there are people alive who give a shit about hair health.

Why didn't they cover the glass windows with a plastic sheet of some kind?

There were other stuff I could point out but meh I should be studying for my exams but yeah looking forward to it.

Also saw "The Next Prince" trailer. Two things.

1) Zee, bodyguard should have taken care of the threat right then and there, not have a romantic chase scene with the prince. Disarm the guy (which you should know how to do) and then make sure that he won't get up again (which you should know how to do). Basic bodyguard training, especially a bodyguard to the Prince!

2) I want Nenuw's Prince character to be an asshole. Yes, I love him as the adorable loveable fluff ball, but this this time just this once, let him be the asshole.

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rainfallingfromthesky · 2 years

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2 and a half years later @keepswingin gets the sequel to blood thicker than silver written and it’s fucking incredible. Update will come soon 🤩

#when it rains #zombies #disneys zombies #zombies 2 #damn it’s been years since I’ve used those tags #blood thicker than silver enthusiasts rise up

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valaratminaforaldrar · 3 months

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if kas killed me i'd die happy

#i would let tristan kill me too but i just think #kas would do it with more enthusiasm. i'd die happy knowing he's also happy. you know #kas enthusiastically stabbing tristan's friend while tristan's just like kas wtf.............#kas also eating said friend because he's turning into a zombie and also spiting his goddess. but tristan doesn't know that part #as if tristan has never enjoyed killing someone. double standards

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fizzie · 10 months

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The autistic to ocd solidarity i have with my friend is unreal

#we had a super enthusiastic talk about how we were both super scared of but also fascinated by zombies #and as kids scared of them more than anything else #bc of the infection/contamination/sickness aspect of them #GAH #kissing him #fizzing

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heavensmortuary · 7 months

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THE DYING. THE DEAD. AND THE UNDEAD SPACE JUNK.

Where Do Old Satellites Go When They Die? from spaceplace.nasa.gov // Zombie Satellites by Antony Johnston on Medium // Point Nemo: Meet Space Agencies’ Spacecraft Cemetery // Long Lost Military Satellite Found By Amateur Radio Operator by Joe Palca and Scott Nueman on NPR // Lincoln Experimental Satellite from Wikipedia Commons // Military Zombie Satellite From 1967 Discovered By Radio Operator Enthusiast by Fabieen Lang on Interesting Engineering // Where Do Old Satellites Go When They Die? from space place.nasa.gov // Long Lost Military Satellites Found By Amateur Radio Operator by Joe Palca and Scott Nueman on NPR // Football 17776: What Football Will Look Like In The Future by Jon Bois // Space Junk by Wang Chung

#web weaving #satellites #radio #machines #<33333333 WAH #my webweaving #webweave #communications

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sweet-as-an-angel · 6 months

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Zombie! König NSFW Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Mentions of Breeding, Implied Forced Pregnancy/Eggnancy, Stomach Bulging, Restraining, Unprotected Sex, Monster Fucking, Zombie Fucking, Implied Yandere König, Possessive König, Jealous König, Zombie! König, Human! Reader, Zombie Anatomy, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.

Your current condition, that being thoroughly incapacitated, used and spent, had been the result of König’s jealousy, his possession of you.

All it took was for him to see you speaking with another survivor – one which had materialised out of nowhere – a little too enthusiastically.

Not that anyone could blame you; he was the first living person you’d seen in months, and you to him, too.

Until König showed up. Lumbering and mammoth and disease-ridden, he rocked up to you on creaking bones and stiffened joints, his deathly condition apparent in every facet of his being, from his gait to the stale blood staining his tactical gear.

The other survivor took one look at him and didn’t even hesitate before he all but took flight, bolting in the opposite direction.

You weren’t a fool. You knew König had done it on purpose.

He may be undead, but he was smart. Too smart.

Later that evening, you didn’t even look at König, instead bundling up in your room within the decrepit confines of your hideout while König ruminated.

If he could, he was sure his heart would squeeze, his throat would constrict at the prospect of upsetting you.

But, either because of his decaying state or something more carnal clouding his remorse.

The thought of that man, just some guy, touching you…

König’s eye twitched. His teeth gritted together, grinding.

The longer he stewed in the what-ifs – what if he hadn’t been there to frighten off his competition, what if that survivor had had his way with you – the less human he felt. The stronger the parasite’s instincts became, a chanting, goading, incipient voice that urged him to succumb to his feral ways.

Despite his stature, König was deceptively quiet. As much was apparent when you turned, your anger making it impossible to get comfortable, only to see König stood over you, watching you, your bedroom door swung open.

König gave you little time to process his arrival, to process that his appearance was not the extension of an olive branch – an apology – but a siege on your defences.

It wasn’t hard for König to pin you down, both with his weight and his strength as his hands kept your wrists welded to the mattress.

He snarled, his veil doing nothing to muffle the carnality in his tone, the voice of the parasite urging him to act. Now.

You tried to fight him off. Tried to call his name – the one you’d both settled on when you first met — tried to reason with the small part of him that was still human.

Little did you know that he, the last remaining thread which tethered König to the Living, was responsible for this.

You see, König is not the sharing type. A lesson you learned too late, it would seem.

The reason why König was bearing down on you now, trying not to rock his hips against yours as he collared your wrists together beneath his palm and fumbled with stiffened fingers for the zipper of his trousers was rooted solely in envy.

And now, freed of his pants, König’s cock stood stiff against his stomach. His hand, free now, gripped your jeans by the hem. Tore them off. A button pinged into a corner. You yelped.

Despite having dreamt of this moment for almost the entirety of your travels together, nothing in König’s dying mind could have prepared him for the rush he felt as you writhed, tried not to enable him with your whines when his drooling tip caught you.

König stuffed you full of him, and a sword of ice penetrated you, filled you.

You gasped, your back arching and your mouth dropping open as you struggled to take both his size and his piercing, freezing, bulbous cock.

You felt it twitch inside you. Pulse. And the only thought that crossed your mind was that something of a parasitic nature must be crawling through his veins, trying to get to you. Get into you.

Of course, that was not the case. König ever would have acted on his instincts if he’d known you were at risk of leading an almost-eternity of rot like him. He cared that much for you, at least.

Even if he had perceived your talking to that other lone survivor earlier as an act of disloyalty.

Deep down, he knows it wasn’t. You and König weren’t even dating, so how could it be?

Zombie instincts. And König’s naturally domineering, possessive nature. That’s how it could be.

König had to hold back the feeling, the need, to pump you full of his cum right then and there as he saw a long, thick bump form in your middle.

Him.

König growled. You whimpered. Something cold, viscous, tricked into you.

The avantmath of König’s excitement.

König’s eyes, though mulled over with a haze that suggested vacancy, were still an ice blue. Watching and heavy.

As was his cock halfway mounted inside you. It almost pinned you to the mattress itself with just how much of it there was, no doubt enlarged some by the parasite, the disease. Which, if the rest of König was to go by, wasn’t the only thing it engorged.

König’s frame possessed muscularity you didn’t even think possible on a man, his arms bulging, larger than your head, his thighs almost bursting from his pants as he bent over your figure, his trousers pulled taut over his muscles, just below his hips.

You stifled a sob, the air knocked out of you, as König began to move. Slowly, at first, the notion of intimacy having become a lost skill to him.

As he grew used to the motion of withdrawing and plunging back in, he grew faster. Harsher.

He could see from the furrow in your brow, the gritting of your teeth, the clenching of your jaw, that taking him was painful. Un-customary for your…relationship.

And though his chest would have panged with the knowledge that he, of everyone in the wasteland, was the one hurting you, his body was no longer privy to such reactions.

Instead, he pressed his hips to yours, tried manoeuvring you so that he could take you from a deeper angle, and slid further.

He bit back a grunt, his grip about your wrists tightening. You let out a yelp, these new inches of not only length but girth almost splitting you open. At least, that’s how it felt.

König built to and kept his feral pace, fucking you like an animal, giving you little time to breathe and him little time to think about what he was doing.

All he thought about was making you his. About making sure everything, living and otherwise, who came upon you in the wasteland would know you belonged to him.

Though, with what he was planning on doing to you, he knew you wouldn’t be going outside again.

Against your mind’s judgement, your body wanted König. That much was clear in the way you ceased fighting him off, instead trying to push into him, trying to take him deeper.

Your actions were not lost on König. But, given how his face was clouded not only with his veil, but with his lust, you wouldn’t have been surprised if they were.

Eventually, König’s weight and speed proved to be too much.

You cried out, as if for the only other survivor in the city to hear you, to save you.

König released a growl, a howl, as his cold, congealed, thickened cum pumped into you.

You could feel it, like water through a hose. Could feel König’s veins twitching, feel yourself getting full from his load.

Against your better judgement, you wrapped your legs about König’s torso, as if to stop even an ounce of his semen from escaping.

You didn’t have to look down to know that your stomach was filling up like a balloon – that König had completely and utterly made you his from the inside out.

You couldn’t see the way König’s jaw hung open, couldn’t feel the way his fantasy made his body lock up with electric anticipation.

Not that you knew this, but König knew the infection — the parasite — was evolving.

Once it fully matured, it would give König an opportunity he wouldn’t perceive as golden — gold dust — until he met you.

The ability to lay eggs in a host.

Granted, the idea was not to spread the infection in the living host but to enable the birth of more parasites. But for König, it worked all the same.

And, as he looked down at you, taking his load so easily now, he knew this was not just a possibility, but a reality.

You would start a new life. Together. Him as your protector, your sword and your shield, and you his perfect little incubator, swollen with your shared offspring.

It wouldn’t be long until you’d be begging to bear his offspring. And it wouldn’t be long until he could grant your wish.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

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clockwayswrites · 8 months

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Tim Jr., Coffee Machine Extraordinaire

WC: 2314

Dick worried his lip between his teeth as he looked Tim over. His little brother was standing, zombie-like, in front of the Cave’s coffee machine.

Not that it was unusual.

Just the thing was, Tim had been doing better. His dark circles had been fading, his snippy moments less often, his focus better, and he’d even been putting on some much needed weight. Dick had been so proud (as had Alfred and Bruce). But now the circles were darkening again and Tim was staring at the coffee machine like he used to— like it was his only salvation.

Jason stepped up to Dick’s side, joining him in the bird watching.

“Hey Timbit,” Jason said, breaking the silence of the moment. Trust Jason to get down to it.

“Hum?”

“What happened to your hand?”

Tim blinked down at his gauze wrapped hand as if he had forgotten about the injury. Not a good sign with Tim. Dick was betting on over 48 hours without proper sleep at this point.

“Oh.” Tim said, the exclamation was emotionless. “Tim Junior bit me.”

Dick and Jason exchanged looks. Who now?

“Um, did you get a pet, baby bird?” Dick gently asked.

“Hum?”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Who’s Tim Junior, Timberino.”

“Oh.” Tim said. The brothers waited impatiently for Tim’s brain to roll over. “My coffee maker. Little brat refused to make me any…”

“Okay, yep, alright. No patrol for you tonight Timtam,” Jason said with a clap of his hands.

“Wait, what? No. Just let me get some coffee and I’ll be ready to go,” Tim whined.

“I think Jason’s right, Tim,” Dick said, stepping up to gently guide his brother away from the coffee machine.

Tim looked back over his shoulder at the machine as they walked away. Dick could practically see Jason building a plan as he lead them over to the vehicle area.

“We’ll go back to your Nest, Timbuktu. We can keep an eye on the ops from there while the rest of the idiots have to run around in this damn cold. Bet it’s going to sleet later,” Jason said gleefully.

“I see how it is, you just want to be warm. Sure you aren’t just faking those broken ribs to get some extra time off?” Dick asked, playing into the show of it. They just had to keep Tim distracted until Jason had him bundled back up in his apartment.

“Oh no. You’ve found me out,” Jason deadpanned as he tossed Tim his helmet. At least Bat reflexes were still in play and Tim caught the helmet without even looking at it.

“I knew it!” Dick cried, dodging Tim’s smacks as he doubled checked that the helmet was secure. “That’s it. I’m crashing your Nest Party after patrol so you better save me some food.”

“What makes you think there will be food?” Jason asked. His words were tough, but Dick watched him tug Tim’s arms until the other gripped him tightly. Baby bird was in good hands.

“Jaybird,” Dick said, “it’s you, of course there’s going to be food.”

Jason’s short was almost lost over the sound of the motorcycle starting. Dick waved enthusiastically as the bike sped out of the cave before he let his hand and smile both drop.

He really hoped that Tim just needed some sleep.

Dick landed silently onto the balcony. The lights were on low inside, changing subtly enough that Dick could tell the T.V. must be on. He found the hidden panel to flip up and enter his codes for the door’s locks to hiss open.

Jason was watching him from over the couch and even without seeing it, Dick could tell when Jason’s fingers relaxed around the gun he must had been holding. He raised a finger to his lips, and Dick gave a little nod back.

Dick slunk silently over to the couch, bracing his arms on the back right next to Jason’s head. He had to hold back a coo at the sight of Tim curled up under a fluffy green blanket with his head pillowed against Jason’s thigh. Jason must have known how close Dick was to making a noise because he smacked his hand into Dick’s face.

Hands raised, Dick backed away with a silent laugh. After rinsing off quickly in the shower he dug out some sweats from ‘his’ drawer in the guest bedroom. Tim might act like he never wanted them in his space, but he still kept a drawer for each of them stocked with civilian clothing and relaxing wear. And Dick knew his favorite cereal was stocked in the pantry too. Stomach rumbling, Dick padded back out to the open living space.

Jason must have pulled an Indiana Jones and slipped out from under Tim because he was in the kitchen making up a plate of left overs for Dick. Dick bounded over to peer into the boxes. “Ooh, Thai.”

He skipped back a step as Jason smacked at his hand with the serving spoon.

“How long has he been out?”

“Not long after eating. Food got here right after us, so most of the night,” Jason said, his words a low rumble in his efforts to stay quiet.

“Just tired then?” Dick asked, still hoping that was all it was.

Jason’s frown didn’t reassure him.

“What?”

“Sleep was restless for hours. He kept… dun know. Searching for something,” Jason said with a little shrug. “Not nightmares but not easy rest.”

Dick sighed and leaned back against the counter. He chewed idly on his thumb, wondering what was bothering their baby bird. “New cases?”

“Not from me. Wrapped the last one up last week and B’s out of town.”

“Damian wouldn’t ask. Steph is busy with the girls. And there’s nothing from me. Something made him take a turn.”

Jason just hummed and popped the plate into the microwave. Dick was never sure if Jason knew how much the noise sounded like one Batman would make. He never risked mentioning it. Dick glanced over at his brother and then past him as the shiny red caught his eye. “That it?”

“What?”

Dick jutted his chin at the coffee maker. “Tim Junior”

“…guess it is. Odd looking machine, aint it? Think he messed with it?”

“Someone had to,” Dick said, moving around Jason. The coffee machine did have a distinctly home brewed look to it. None of the knobs matched and the one panel was a slightly different shade of red like it had been spray painted to match.

“Freak’n mad scientist,” Jason groused as he stopped the microwave before it could beep.

“More engineering then he normally does,” Dick murmured. He reached out to flip the top of the machine open. It felt like solid work… the lid snapped back down with a clack.

“Shh.”

“…it wasn’t me. The machine moved.”

“Shut it, dickface.”

“I’m not kidding,” Dick hissed. “I just went to open it—”

The lid snapped open on its own.

Dick reached out to blindly smack at Jason’s arm.

“Stop it. I saw. Could just be a spring—” Jason reached out to touch it and the coffee machine lunged forward, narrowly missing Jason's fingers. "Holy fuck!"

“Did his coffee machine really bite him?!?” Dick screeched.

(Quietly.)

(He refused to wake Tim.)

“Maybe really, really strong springs?” Jason hissed back as he reached for the machine again.

Dick tackled the coffee machine as it sprang off the counter. The machine struggled, snapping its top open and closed as it strained for Jason. It was starting to heat up in his arms.

“Unplug it!”

“It’s not even plugged in!”

“What do you mean it’s not—”

The lock in the front door turned with a click and both brothers froze. The coffee machine snapped again in Dick’s arms and he shushed it without thinking.

The door creaked open.

“Tim? Starlight? You awake babe?” Whoever it was spoke quietly, like they knew how much of a light sleeper Tim was. There was a soft bang and a quiet curse as a slight figure slipped into the apartment hauling a carry-on suitcase and messenger bag that he dumped by the door. He turned away from locking the door and froze.

Three pairs of blue eyes blinked at each other.

“What are you doing to Tim Junior?” the stranger whisper screamed as he scrambled forward.

Dick let the guy snatch the coffee machine, backing up with his hands raised to show he was harmless. Not that he was, of course, he was running through all the places that he knew Tim had hidden weapons.

Not that the guy looked like much of a threat with the way he was petting the coffee machine and cooing at it. “It’s okay baby, the bad man doesn’t have you any more.”

Dick swore the coffee machine was purring back.

“Okay, who the fuck are you,” Jason growled.

Jason only got a single threatening step forward before he froze at a whine that came from a couch. Tim pulled himself up by the back of the couch, draping himself half over it.

“Danny?”

The guy— Danny— glanced at them before looking at Tim. “Hey starlight. So. Um, your brothers are here tonight?” The end of his sentence rose up in a little squeak.

Tim froze, going pale in a way that scared Dick a little as his eyes darted between all of them. “What day is it?”

“Sunday, babe.”

“Oh shit…”

“Want to introduce us, Timmallow?” Jason rumbled.

Dick was pretty sure that answer was ‘no the fuck I do not’.

Seems Danny thought the same as he jerked the hand not holding the coffee machine behind him. “I can just… leave and pretend I was never here?”

“No!” Tim said, scrambling over the back of the couch and sliding to stand next to Danny. “No, um. I should have—”

“It’s fine, babe.”

“No it’s not! I’ve been meaning to introduce you to them but— ugh.” Tim buried his face in his hands.

“Why don’t we go sit on the couch?” Dick suggested. He made sure to plaster on a cheerful smile. “Though, um, maybe without Tim Junior?”

Danny snorted and moved to set the coffee machine down on the kitchen island. Dick and Jason both gave it a wide berth as they headed over to the couch to sit. Dick steered them to stay on one side of the L-shaped couch while Tim and Danny sat on the other.

An awkward silence settled over the group.

Well they couldn’t have that. “So, Danny was it?”

“Yep, Danny Fenton. You’re… Dick? And Jason?”

“Yeah! Tim talks about us?”

“Of course, you’re his brothers,” Danny said. He reached up to rub at the back of his neck. “I guess… you haven’t heard about me?”

“Um, no,” Dick admitted. He could feel his smile falter for a moment at the hurt in Danny’s eyes.

“Danny—” Tim started.

“It’s fine.”

It didn’t sound fine.

“No it’s not,” Tim said. “I kept meaning to tell them but they— do you know how over the top they are? They would have been over here in five minutes to meet you and then for the next, like, week as they all got back into town. They would be everywhere for weeks and…”

Tim picked at his sweat pants, looking small and nervous. “And you just really moved in a few weeks ago and I wanted you to myself for longer.”

“Hey, starlight,” Danny said and reached out to curl his hand over Tim’s. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not and I’m sorry. So, officially, Danny, these are my brothers, Dick and Jason. Dick, Jason, this is my boyfriend Danny Fenton. He’s an engineering student at Gotham U.”

Dick offered his best smile. “I guess that explains the coffee machine!”

“Like fuck it does, that thing is alive,” Jason snapped. “It bit me!”

“You were grabbing him!” Danny said.

“It bit Tim too!”

“Aw, Tim Junior, no,” Danny sighed, taking Tim’s other hand and looking at the bandages carefully. “I wasn’t even gone for a week and you two were fighting?”

Tim whined. “He wouldn’t let me have any coffee!”

“How many cups were you on?”

Tim ducked his head in a mumble.

“How many was that?”

“Seven.”

“Tim!”

“You were gone! I couldn’t sleep,” Tim sulked.

The fight seemed to just drain out of Danny at that and he kissed Tim’s knuckles gently. “Ask your family next time before it gets so bad, okay babe? They’re obviously willing to look after you. And then Tim Junior won’t bite you.”

“Yeah Timmander, we won’t let you suffer,” Jason said with a smirk that had Tim narrowing his eyes at him.

Dick elbowed Jason (which was as effective as going for a brick wall). “We won’t. We’re happy to be around if you’re feeling lonely. Especially if it keeps you safe from your coffee machine!”

“Seriously,” Jason said, “What is that thing, er, Tim Junior made of?”

“Oh! Ectoplasm,” Danny said with a smile.

Dick paused. “…um, what?”

“Ectoplasm. You know, ghost juice?” Danny held out his cupped hand and green liquid pooled in it as if seeping out of his skin.

Jason leapt up and behind the couch before Dick was even registering what he was seeing. “What the fuck!? Why the fuck can your boyfriend make pit juice Timmy?”

Tim buried his face in his hands. “Not pit juice.”

“Ghost juice. Adjacent but very different, from what Tim has explained to me,” Danny said, the liquid fading away.

“That sure looked like pit water!”

“It wasn’t, see, pit water is pulled from the living while—”

“So,” Dick said quietly, leaning over to Tim. “Maybe not just that you wanted to keep him to yourself, huh?”

Tim just groaned and tried to bury himself under the green blanket and into the couch. “I should have just let Tim Junior eat me.”

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AN: Thanks to spite, finally got back to this and finished it up! I know not the firmest ending, but it covered what I wanted to~

Make sure to be better than Tim and hydrate and rest! Also stay delightful, darlings!

#dp x dc #braindead #deadtired #tim drake/danny fenton #tim jr coffee machine

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