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deadsetobsessions · 4 months

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He could overlook a lot of things, but this was getting ridiculous. You’d think seasoned vigilantes would have better excuses prepared, but Danny had caught that flash of panic that crossed Tim’s face as Danny came face to face with Tim dragging an unconscious Steph to her designated room in the manor.

“Uh.”

“Danny! Uh, Stephanie brained herself- uh, sliding down the bannisters and- pleasedon’ttellBruce.”

Danny blinks, staring at Tim and then very pointedly, very slowly, turned his head back towards the direction he came from: the main hall… where the bannisters were. He wonders what vigilante hijinks they were trying to hide from B this time.

Tim coughs, trying to inch Stephanie away. “Uh. She was doing… cartwheels?”

Danny let his eyes slowly take in the bruises that were clearly not from “cartwheeling in the mansion” on the both of them. There’s a huge bandaged cut on Steph’s forearm and a giant bruise on the edge of Tim’s jaw. Tim’s face twitches nervously, not that anyone else would have noticed- except Danny has enhanced ghost senses and could feel the panic coming off of his adopted brother.

“You know…” Shit, what does he do? Not knowing would be so much easier if these idiots gave him good excuses! “I don’t think I want to know what you two have been up to… but should I be worried for your, uh, physical health?”

“Nope!”

“… Okay.” He says. Tim opens his mouth to make further excuses but Danny adds quickly, “But don’t tell me, because if Bruce asks, I want plausible deniability.”

Cartwheels, Danny’s ghostly ass. Luckily, this show of doubt reaffirms Tim’s belief that Danny believes them all of the other times. Danny grins inwardly, planning capitalizing on the guilt that flashed over Tim’s face.

“Deal.”

“Want help?” The halfa points at Steph, who’s still being dragged over the carpet by a noodle armed Tim. Danny knows Tim’s strong, he’s a vigilante, but it’s funny watching him pretend to struggle.

“Please. I’m so tired right now.” He looks it too. Danny’s brows furrow with genuine concern when he takes in Tim’s drowned raccoon look. He picks up Steph, firmly removing her from Tim’s suddenly weak grip. Being careful to avoid her injuries, Danny nods at the door to her room. Tim cracks it open and does a little showy gesture towards the inside.

“C’mon, we’ll tuck her in and then I’ll tuck you in.”

“What, you don’t have to do that.”

“If you don’t let me tuck you in and make sure you sleep, I’ll tell Alfred who really accidentally poured boiling hot coffee on his azaleas last week. And I’ll sic Dick on you and tell him you haven’t been sleeping enough.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Tim grumbles. “But fine. It’s really not my fault I’m this tired. A missing spleen is hard to handle, you know.”

“Yeah, missing an organ sucks,” Danny says, shit eating grin hidden long enough to catch the contemplative bloodhound look that passes over Tim’s face.

“Which- uh, which one of your organs is missing?”

“Liver.” Danny says, remembering the flashes of pain. He tilts his head away to hide the grin at Tim’s panicked face.

When he tucks Tim in, he pretends to believe Tim’s sleeping act and left his room while mumbling about the Wayne’s clumsiness and bruises and stocking up on bruise cream. He couldn’t even enjoy Tim’s floundering, this time, worried as he is.

——

“Brother.” Danny half turns his head, just to beam a sunny smile at Cass. He signs an exuberant hello. The halfa hangs up his coat as he addresses his adopted sister.

“Cass! What’s up?”

“Dinner.” She smiles back, signing that Alfred wanted them to the dinning room post haste. The main dining room, because rich people were fruit loops and Batman is totally included. Cassandra looks down and gasps.

What…?

Oh. Fuck. Danny glances down. He genuinely forgot about that.

“Huh.”

“Okay?” Suddenly, Cass is right next to him, hand reached out and hovering over the actual knife Danny forgot was sticking out of him. At least it’s where his liver should be, so he won’t have to pretend.

“Oh. Yeah, I’m good. Don’t have a liver.” Danny decides on the spot that he’s not gonna mess with Cass. She smiled the same as him. “Got mugged on the way back but I think they said I could keep the knife, right?”

“Danny.” She’s frowning at him. He feels like he just kicked tiny Cujo. But he doesn’t feel bad enough to blurt everything out.

“Here. You can have it if you want?” Danny casually pulls out the knife and holds the wound together with his bare hands. Cass looks more alarmed. She bodily picks up Danny and starts running.

“Woah!”

Cass throws him at Alfred, gently.

“Miss Cassandra! Why, I never-!” Alfred pauses in surprise.

“Uh. Wow, Cass. You’re really strong.” Danny pipes up, hand still over his gushing wound.

She ignores him, pointing at Danny and telling Alfred, “Hurt. Got mugged. Dumb.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault Gothamites are ready to jump people at any moment. Besides, it’s daytime. It’s not like the vigilante furries are out to save my butt. I think I did really well coming back safe, you know?”

“Hurt. Forgot the knife. Was in him.”

“Master Danny!”

Danny pouts. He also knows there’s a discreet camera in the corners of the sitting room, so he’s definitely hoping he could phase into the cave when Barbara eventually tells the group that he called them “vigilante furries.”

Alfred clucks his tongue and set to work patching him up. Danny tries not to bask in the careful way Alfred tended to his wounds. It reminds him too much of Jazz, if Jazz was British and a man with greying hair.

But because they were watching him and he was watching them in return, Danny noticed the moment Alfred’s hands stalled and Cass’ gaze got intense. What now…?

Oh, fuck, his vivisection scar. Oops. Danny smiled, channeling Dani (his lovely clone sister) at her most innocent.

Cass smiled back, just as sunnily, fists tightening at her side in repressed fury.

——

“Cass? Why’d you call us?”

“Yeah, baby bat. I got a couple o’ smugglers to talk to.”

Cass paces.

“What is it, Cassandra?” Damian tuts impatiently.

“Danny. Has… scars. Autopsy. But was struggling. When cut.”

“What.”

“A vivisection, Master Jason.” Alfred’s voice was crisp and eerily cold. His hands are folded, rage only held back by his sheer will and a well practiced sense of propriety.

“We find. Who hurt him,” Cass snarls. “We. End.”

Jason’s eyes glint green, hands going to his guns. “Fine. By. Me.”

“It does tie in with the dead comment. I wonder what happened to him.” Tim clacks away at the bat computer, furiously looking into the matter already. Bruce has taken to prowling, stressed out at the prospect of one more of his children- not a vigilante at that- getting hurt the way Jason had. Worse, even. A vivisection. He was alive, dissected. Aware enough to struggle. Dick looked like he was torn about hunting down and lunging at whoever hurt Danny to rip their throats out with his bare teeth versus the urge to go back up to the manor and wrap Danny in bubble wrap.

In the corner, Danny was having a quiet breakdown because he came here to watch them react to vigilante furries, not offering to murder the people who vivisected him. What the fuck?? He ran his hands through his hair, invisible.

——

“Oh, by the way, we should consider more daytime shifts.”

“Why?” Spoiler asks Barbara.

“Danny got mugged. And called us the nightly furries.”

“The fuckin’ what-?” Jason chokes out, laughing. Bruce stops his pacing, body language becoming slightly offended.

Danny muffles a laugh only Alfred would have heard.

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mearchy · 1 month

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The best fics are the ones that recognize that although Luke Skywalker may APPEAR on the outside to be a normal friendly twink who happens to have cool powers, especially when contrasted with such ship partners as Boba or Din or even Han, he is arguably the scariest person alive in the galaxy around the prequel era. AND, crucially, he is also a fundamentally weird guy. This man was homeschooled on a rural farm his entire life and then apprenticed to a swamp gremlin who showed him how to tap into the cosmic power of the universe. He blew up the death star age 19, killing approx 2 million-ish Imperials. He is a vortex of Force power that can communicate with the ghosts of dead Jedi. He’s staring into the distance and mumbling to himself and doing Yoda aphorisms and casually pulling out the “yeah I could crush that guy into a paste with my mind (:” and nobody around him knows what to do with that. I think he is a character who has very little frame of reference for how a Jedi or a person in general is supposed to act and there is some thing about him that is by necessity really fucking weird and a little scary but he’s so nice that it can throw you off the scent a little bit. Thanks for coming to my TED talk

#This can be played for comedic value eldritch horror BAMF moments and also just overall weirdness.#not even in a manic pixie dream boy way but just like.#a very unsettling guy… and you don’t know why…#but he also exudes enough light and friendliness that everyone overlooks it #and now HAN is used to this #and leia does not care #but boba fett is doing the 😧#and i just think that’s funny.#all jedi should be weird but luke is weirder because he doesn’t even have any context for this shit.#like normal jedi learn to be normal from the temple environment #or from being around lots of normal people.#so he’s like everything kind of Off about the jedi distilled into one friendly blond surfer dude.#star wars #original trilogy #ot #star wars original trilogy #luke skywalker #bobaluke #dinluke #the mandalorian #boba fett #din djarin

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riyo-soka · 28 days

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Asajj Ventress trouncing the main characters in a fight, straight up lying to people, and deciding to get the fuck out of there so the plot couldn’t catch her is so Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) of her and I couldn’t be happier

#the bad batch #tbb spoilers #her lying to omega so she didn’t have to put up with the 3 emotionally unstable overprotective dads was soo funny #but also so real #asajj ventress #tbb omega #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #my reaction to watching her be a bamf was the same now as it was when I was 9: that was fucking sick

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sp0o0kylights · 9 months

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Part One / Part Two (You are Here) / Part Three

A03

Hopper had undersold Harrington's condition.

Wayne hadn't expected anything pretty, but the face that turned to them as they walked through the door almost had him freezing in place.

Black eye, bruised chin, split lip.

More and more bruises, some faded and some very new, trailing down the kids neck.

The rest was hidden by his preppy little polo shirt, but Wayne didn't doubt that there were more.

Harrington tried to stand when they entered the room and the way he moved--entirely unbalanced, clearly in a lot of pain--made Wayne think the only thing the kid really needed was a hospital.

Because Steve Harrington hadn't just been beaten.

He'd been tortured--and very recently strangled.

(Abruptly, Wayne realized that Hopper had implied the boy had been in the mall fire--just as much as he implied the mall fire was anything but.

He also hadn't stated how Harrington had escaped the Suites trying to break into his house.)

"Sit down." Hopper commanded, and Wayne expected Harrington to do anything but listen.

Say something cocky, or act the part of a demanding little shit maybe, despite the condition he was in.

Instead the kid just sighed in relief and dropped like a stone, right back into the chair.

Hopper came around his desk, talking all the while. "Steve, this is Wayne. Wayne, Steve."

"Hello Sir." Steve croaked politely. His voice was wrecked, no doubt from the necklace of finger shaped bruises around his neck.

"You're going to stay with him for a while, and you're gonna pay him for the privilege." Hopper informed him, as he began digging around his desk. "Money, chores, whatever Wayne wants."

Wayne held his gaze as Steve turned to appraise him.

Would Harrington pitch a fit?

Would he look at Wayne's work clothes, streaked with dirt and sweat, with the name of the warehouse embroidered in the corner and crinkle up his nose, just like his daddy did?

Hopper didn't lie, but a part of Wayne wanted to see just how different this Harrington was. If the respectful demeanor was an act done for Hopper.

Or perhaps, Hopper had mentioned Steve's father for a reason, instead of his mother. Did he adopt her ice-like approach to life?

Micro managing and long-held grudges were Stella Harrington’s game, and she excelled at it.

Steve however, did nothing of the sort, instead settling with the situation in a way that reminded Wayne far too strongly of the men and women who'd come home from war.

"Okay." The kid said simply, after a long moment of consideration. He turned back to Hopper. "But we need to tell the rest of the Par--"

Here he cut a look back to Wayne, correcting himself. "the kids. I don't want them showing up at my house trying to find me and freaking out."

"They wouldn't--" Jim paused, fingers freezing from the rummaging they'd been doing. "they absolutely would, goddammit." He muttered darkly.

"I'll tell the kids. The only thing I want you doing right now is laying low. I need to get a hold of Owens, but it's gonna take time to do that, and more time to fix this, so as of right now, Harrington? You're on vacation." He pointed sternly, as if Steve might argue.

The kid looked too tired and messed up to bother trying.

"I mean it. You're out of the country, where is anybody's guess. No one's seen you and no one better be seeing you, got it?" His voice held firm, and Wayne had to blink because the tone here wasn't one of a police chief warning a teenager--but of a father talking to his son.

He knew, because his own voice did that now. Took on a worried tone that masqueraded as something more like annoyance and seriousness.

"Yes, Sir." Harrington said, remaining weirdly compliant. "Consider me gone."

A hand came up to briefly press above one eye, and Wayne wondered if the kid had been looked over, or if they had just crammed him into Hopper's office without offering so much as a tissue box.

How many painkillers did they have back at the house? Wayne usually kept a good bottle around, but Steve was going to need more than that…

He found himself once again cataloging Steve's wounds, this time comparing them to the medicine cabinet he had at home.

"I expect you to be a damn good house guest, you hear me?" Hopper continued, trying to cut a menacing figure. He finally found what he was looking for; pulling out a large, padded envelope.

He handed it over to Harrington, who took it without looking, shoving it into the duffle bag he'd had sitting at his feet.

There was a smudge of red on the handle of said bag, that matched perfectly up to a shittily done wrap on Steve's right hand.

Wayne mentally added 'buy more bandages' to his list.

Steve nodded at Hopper again. "Yes, Sir."

Jim’s eyes narrowed. "Quite that, you know I hate that."

The briefest glimmer of mischief crossed Harrington's face. "Sorry, Sir. Won't happen again, Sir."

'Ahh.' Wayne thought. 'So there's a teenager in there after all.'

Jim rolled his eyes. "Get out of my office."

"Thanks Hop." Harrington said, finally dropping that odd obedience, a hint of a smile on his battered face.

He stood, and Wayne had to stop himself from offering an arm out as Steve reached for his bag and limped towards him.

He paused right before he left Hopper's office, hand on the doorframe.

"You'll check up on Robin too, right?" He asked, and for the first time his tone took on something more alive--and filled with worry. "And Dustin? Erica?"

"Dustin and his mom are finally taking me up on my suggestion to see their family in Florida for a while, and the Sinclairs are taking a sabbatical from Hawkins. I'm working on the Buckley's." Hopper drummed his fingers on the desk. "So far, no one else besides you and El have been targeted, and we're going to keep it that way."

Steve let out a breath, and while Wayne could tell the worry hadn't left him, he could almost physically see Steve force himself to put it away.

Another act that was far beyond the kid's years.

A different officer popped up as they walked down the hall towards the exit, waving his hand madly. "Harrington! Chief says you forgot this!" He barked.

(Or tried to anyway. Callahan wasn’t the most aggressive of officers and frankly, never would be.)

A slim sports bag was held in his hands, and Steve nearly tripped over his own feet when he tried to turn and claim it.

"I'll get it." Wayne said, knowing his tone sounded gruff.

No use for it. He could either sound gruff or sound sad, and Wayne knew better than to start off the relationship with yet another hurt young man by acting sad.

Pity wasn't gonna win him any favors here.

He took the bag, slinging it over his shoulder, uncaring of the wince on Harrington's face until something sharp poked at his shoulder.

Several somethings, in fact.

"What the hell do you got in this thing?" He asked once they hit the parking lot, voice low as he escorted Steve to his truck.

"Just a baseball bat, sir." Steve said, in the exact same tone Eddie used every time he thought he was bein’ slick.

Considering the thing in the bag could have passed for a baseball bat if not for the sharp pokey bits, it wasn’t a bad attempt. Steve just hadn’t accounted for the fact that Wayne lived with Eddie.

An unfair advantage, really.

‘Least there can’t be any baby racoons in the damn bag.’ Wayne thought idly.

Went on to gently put the bat in the backseat, watching as the kid struggled to lift himself into the truck.

"You can drop that, I take too being called Sir about as well as Hop does." He said, keeping his tone nice and calm, hoping to ease into calling Steve out on his lie.

Fussed with a few dials on the stereo, giving Steve an excuse to take his time before starting the engine and taking the long way home.

Wayne wanted to talk a little-- without the chance of Ed’s interrupting.

"Son,” He started off. “I was born in the morning, but not this morning. I'm hoping to make the next few weeks as easy as I can for both of us, and I can't do that if you're starting off with a lie."

Steve blinked, turning to face him in a matter that was too fast for his injuries. He didn't bother hiding the hurt it caused him, but his voice stayed even as he spoke.

"What do you mean Si--Wayne."

"Nice catch.” Wayne said. “We’ll get you there yet.”

It was a trick he'd learned with Eddie--little tidbits of praise went a long way when it came to gaining trust.

Especially with kids who hadn't ever been given much.

Harrington seemed smart to it, or perhaps was just hesitant to speak in general because he remained quiet, not offering up any info. No further lies, but nothing towards the truth, neither.

Which was fine. Wayne didn’t think a little pushing would hurt.

"That bat of yours was digging into my shoulder like a bee swarm." Wayne continued, when it became clear Steve wasn't talking. "I'm more a fan of football than baseball, but last I checked they hadn't changed the design of a bat."

"What teams?" Steve asked, perking up a touch. "Of football. Which ones are yours?"

Wayne could ignore it of course, or demand Steve give him an answer to the question he asked.

He did neither. "I’m liking the Colts since they got moved here. You?"

"Green Bay Packers, though I like the Colts too--that trade in 84’ was crazy." Steve said. After a second he proved that answering instead of pushing was the right move because he added; "What did Hopper tell you? About…" He trailed off, making a gesture Wayne didn't bother trying to interpret.

"He said some things. I've guessed a few others." Wayne admitted. Cut a little look out of the corner of his eye as he came to a stop sign. "I know the feds are real interested in you after Starcourt."

Steve took that in, hands tightening on the handle.

"It really is a baseball bat." He said, a little fast and with the tiniest hint of that challenge Wayne had been looking for. "It just also has nails hammered into one end."

Wayne took that in with one nice, slow blink.

"A bat with nails in it." He said, and it made a hell of a lot of sense compared to the sensation he'd felt carrying the case. "You use it against anyone?"

"Some of the feds." Steve admitted, and even with his eyes on the road Wayne could tell he was being stared at.

Judged.

Not in the way one expected a rich kid to judge, but in the way Eddie had, those first few months he'd lived here. The times when he'd push, just a little, to see what Wayne's reaction would be.

Eddie hadn't done it in a damn long time, but Wayne recognized the behavior nonetheless.

"Anybody else?" He asked.

"Nobody human." Steve replied.

"Alright." Wayne said, and made a mental note to drop all questions related to that.

He didn't need to know, definitely didn't want to know, and had a feeling if he did know he'd find himself being watched by the same spooks after Steve.

"I've got a few deck boxes that lock on my porch. Think you'd be agreeable to leaving the bat in one?"

Steve paused, hand clenching tighter around the strap of his duffel bag. "If you gave me a key so I could get it in an emergency, I'd be happy to."

He tried to sound calm, even a little charming in that sort of upper-class businessman sort of way, but the fear bled through.

The kid wasn't happy separating from the bat, and given it sounded like it might have saved his life recently, Wayne understood the hesitation.

With an internal apology to Eddie, he promptly threw his nephew under the proverbial bus. "I've got my nephew at home and he'd be far too interested in it, is all. Blades and weapons and such tend to attract him, and I don't need to be rushing anyone to the ER."

All of which were very true facts (one Wayne learned the time he'd allowed Eddie to bring a sword home, only for him to nearly cut his own nose off winging the thing around) but he figured it might make Steve more amenable to separating from it.

Sure enough, some of the tenseness bled out of Steve's shoulders. "Yeah that's fair."

The truck hit a few potholes as they finally turned into the trailer park, and the kid hissed, a quiet sound.

Judging by the uncomfortable wince, and hands clenched into his jeans something painwise was giving him trouble.

"When was the last time you took a pain pill?" Wayne asked, doing his best to weave around the other holes that dotted the gravel roads.

Steve blinked. "Uh…"

"You take any today son?"

Steve his head.

"Didn't have time to grab it." He said, offering a sad look to his pack.

Course he hadn't.

"Let's get you inside then and get you some." Wayne said with a sigh. Thankfully Eddie's van wasn't here--Wayne was fairly certain he had band practice today but knowing him it could be a million other things.

Just meant he had to acclimate Steve as fast as he could, to try and get the poor guy settled before Ed’s came in.

He just hoped life and lady luck would work with him, for once.

#hands on knees #this is gonna have more than three parts fffffff #FAIR WARNING I do jump between Wayne and Eddie’s pov in this.#Everything Ive written so far while in parts for tumblr would basically be chapter 1 on A03 #Eddies POV change would be chapter two #Ugh Im gonna have to put this on A03. Dammit brain.#also I updated this very fast for me #no one get excited Idk the brain is doing #steddie #beat to shit Steve Harrington #wayne pov #outsider pov #wayne as a BAMF #I tried to get to the part where Eddie shows up but it just got too long for a tumblr post #pre steddie #wayne and Hopper both as psuedo parents to Steve #tw injuries #0o0 fanfics #stranger things

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mischieviem · 5 months

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Indulged myself for a homework assignment

#castiel #spn fanart #spn #dean winchester #deancas #dean x castiel #bobby singer #destiel #destiel fanart #spn comic #bamf castiel #castiel is so cool #but also #he's just a silly little guy #vavoom sorted #autistic angel is my favorite character trope #this isn't funny Dean #the voice says I'm almost out of minutes

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lokiusly · 5 months

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haters saying “what is Mobius going to do in the multiverse saga? Give out pie?” And it’s like yeah???? The avengers LITERALLY ate shawarma after the battle of NY.

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frownyalfred · 5 months

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every single Robin ever: does Bruce even really like me? am I just a sidekick to him?

Bruce in Lucius Fox’s office for the seventeenth time that week: where the hell are the kid-sized Kevlar capes Lucius? I gave you those designs six hours ago why don’t I have capes—

#bruce wayne #batman #dc #batfamily #thoughts #he’s an annoying Karen but #Lucius gets it #so he lets it slide #wayne enterprises #Robin #robins #good dad bruce wayne #Bamf Bruce wayne #protective Bruce Wayne

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secretnimh · 3 months

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It's movie night, and they're watching The Princess Bride. If you don't think Eddie would have a DC Blue Beetle popcorn bucket, you're mistaken

#dc #jason todd #rose wilson #eddie bloomberg #my art #bamf's art #Jason brought his copy of the book so he could make comparisons while they watch #Spoiler; he likes the movie better #The commentary gets annoying though and Rose may physically attack him about it #Eddie hogs the popcorn and pulls a nose-goes to get out of replenishing the snacks when they're gone #trying so hard to like drawing again. It's almost working :-(

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mediumgayitalian · 1 month

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———

Twenty minutes later, Solace hurries out of his cabin in cowboy boots.

And jeans.

Nico gapes at him.

“Go go go go go, questions later,” Will hisses, herding him behind the Apollo cabin. “We are on a time limit, we gotta —”

“You’re wearing close-toed shoes.”

“Yes, yes, sometimes I wear the clothes that I own. Wild. Let’s go.” Will tugs, uselessly, on his arm, but Nico’s half-certain his jaw has taken root in the ground, cementing him in place, because what the actual shit.

“Solace, you wore flip-flops to the snow-smothered bus stop in January. I thought you had, like, a condition!”

“I do have a condition. It’s called You Are Not Hurrying, Death Breath, let’s go —”

This time when he pulls, Nico stumbles after him, ducking under windowsills and inching around flower gardens. Every time someone so much as looks in their direction, Will plants both hands on his chest and shoves them into a corner somewhere, craning his neck to watch until they move on. Every time he does, another piece of Nico’s soul breaks away from his body and descends into hell. There is an actual trail of bones and tilled earth and dead grass behind him. Will doesn’t need to worry about being stealthy — the death aura of Nico’s dignity is large enough to scare off anything within a four mile radius.

“In here!”

Undeterred by the death aura, for some reason, Will seizes his bicep and shoves him in a crack between the Hypnos and Dionysus cabins. He slips in a millisecond later, crowding him against the warm bricks, forearm pressed awkwardly next to Nico’s head.

“Hnggh,” Nico gasps, mournfully wishing his last sliver of self-respect goodbye. Rest in fucking peace. “Do you have to be so — close, Will, gods —”

“Shhh!”

“If you shush me again I am going to rip your throat out —”

“Go, go, go!”

Yanked forward again, Nico doesn’t have the time to finish his threat. This time, at least, they sprint the final stretch to the shed without any more hiding and shoving.

Thank all the fucking gods. One more second of Will’s stupid torso — since fucking when does he wear polo shirts, huh, what the shit fuck is up with that — pressed against his and Nico’s bronchitis was going to come back. And this time he’s going to succumb to it.

“Okay,” Will says. He stands in front of a tarp-covered lump, gripping one side and jutting his chin out at the other. “On three, we tear this off and start pushing. We need past Thalia’s tree in under thirty seconds. Got it?”

“No,” Nico says stubbornly, “you still haven’t explained what the rush is —”

“One two three go!”

Will, unfortunately, has been tricking ADHD teenagers into doing things they don’t want to do for years, so Nico’s ripping off the tarp and shoving the chariot out of its stall faster than he can register what he’s doing. He practically sprints to keep up with Will, chariot wheels creaking happily as they rush over stones and sticks and forgotten weapons.

“We’re leaving now, Chiron! Bye!” Will hollers, moving too fast to give him a second to respond. Luckily, Chiron is similarly busy, galloping after a speeding Harley without more than a backwards wave and a sharp don’t die, please!

“That dynamite I gave Harley’ll only keep everyone distracted another thirty seconds,” Will mutters, ignoring Nico’s alarmed the fucking what you gave Harley, “so we need to move, let’s go.”

“Will — slow down a half fucking second, Christ, not everyone is seventy percent leg — we don’t even have pegasi!”

“Will you keep it down.” Will looks back and forth, eyes wide, like he’s worried someone is going to pop up with a pack of the winged animals. “Just — stop asking questions! We’re almost home free!”

“You’ve gone insane. It’s finally, actually happened, after all these years, who woulda thought, fully bonkers at age sixteen —”

“Oh, shut up.”

Muttering his complaints, Nico helps him push the infernal chariot down Half-Blood Hill. Among his grievances, he makes it abundantly clear that 1) this is stupid, 2) he did not agree to physical labour, 3) he would not have agreed to come if he had known about the physical labour, and 4) this is stupid.

“Just a few more yards, then we can —”

“Okay, no, that’s it.” Nico lets go of the chariot, letting the wheel dig into the soft ground and send the whole thing halting. He meets Will’s pout head-on; arms crossed, jaw set, foot tapping, refusing to give into those big blue eyes.

“C’mon, Neeks.” A faint explosion sounds off in the distance. Will’s eyes get more pleading, more hopeful. “We won’t have much time after the diversion wears off…”

“You have three seconds before I turn the hell around, Solace.”

“Please?”

“One.”

He pushes uselessly at the chariot. It spins a sad little circle without someone pushing the other side. “Neeks!”

“Two.”

“Alright, fine! Help me push again and I’ll explain on the way down.”

“Much easier when you just do as I say,” Nico grumbles, starting to push the stupid (horseless and therefore useless) chariot again. “Isn’t it?”

Will, predictably, rolls his eyes, although he can’t quite help the smile that pulls at his lips. Nico tells the butterflies that go buck fucking wild in his stomach to go to hell. This does nothing.

“How much do you know about the chariot?” Will asks eventually, after a couple minutes of shoving the stupid thing past a deep trench in the soil, leftover from the war. (Nico is going to set the fucking thing on fire. It’s a flying chariot — shouldn’t it be lightweight? Why is he suffering?) They’re nearly three quarters down the hill, and it takes everything Nico has not to risk it all and shadow travel the last couple dozen feet. Yeah, it might kill him, but then his problem would immediately go away. Tempting does not begin to cover it.

“Uh, big source of drama, right? Apollo and Ares worked together to seize it, argued over who got to keep it?”

He cuts a careful glance over to Will, well aware it’s a sensitive topic. He knows the question isn’t a trap — Will would never do that to him — but it’s probably best to tread lightly. As far as he’s concerned, this is a sore point that’ll take more than a couple years to heal.

Luckily, there’s no tension to Will’s face. “Mhm. I wasn’t there for much of the planning, ‘cause I was busy in the infirmary and also, like, twelve, but it took a lot of time on both sides. When Michael and everyone seized it, though, it glowed gold.”

“…Ah.”

Will snorts at his awkwardness, nudging his shoulder. “Yeah. Sure made it hard for the Ares cabin to claim, as dicey as it may be. Here, help me park it on the side of the road.”

There’s a thatch of weeds and undergrowth separating the road from the base of the hill, so dragging the chariot over is a struggle and a half. Nico can’t help but think that this task would be very easy if the chariot was harnessed to a couple pegasi and flying over the fucking thatch, as it is meant to do. When he voices this very valid thought, Will does not respond.

He does walk into a thistle, though, so Nico feels considerably better about the whole ordeal.

“The thing about the blessing —” Will grunts, yanking the chariot onto the gravel shoulder with one final tug — “is that it’s not that big of a deal. My dad blesses shit all the time. Our cabin is blessed. The infirmary is blessed. Hell, half my scalpels are blessed, and I throw those things out all the time ‘cause they’re dangerous when they get dull. Just because my dad blessed it doesn’t mean we actually have to keep it.”

“Okay…” Nico says slowly, “then why was it such a big deal?”

“The blessing on its own wasn’t.” Will’s voice gets fainter as he lowers himself onto the pavement, dragging himself under the belly of the chariot. Nico is confused for a full three seconds before a particularly rough patch of asphalt snags Will’s shirt and drags, and wow, are those jeans low rise. His throat is suddenly very dry. “Blessing a chariot on the other hand…”

Will makes a dorky little noise of success, crawling back from under the chariot. When he resurfaces, he’s grinning, carved piece of wood the same material as the chariot clenched in his hand. There’s soot smeared across his left cheek, his curls have tangled themselves into more of a mess than usual, and there are three separate scuff marks on his nice jeans.

Nico ducks his head, hiding a smile. What a dorky loser. Even dressed up as he is (boy, has Nico fallen low, if he’s calling jeans and cowboy boots dressed up), he still manages to look like…Will.

A really, really hot version of Will, but. Whatever. Details.

“The hell is that?”

“This,” Will says grandly, feeling around the wall of the chariot until he finds a specific spot, “is the reason my brother gave a fuck about a dumbass chariot.” He sticks the edge of the wooden tool in a tiny groove, wedging it open to reveal a hidden panel and a small, golden button. Nico meets Will’s grin with raised eyebrows, impressed.

“What do you know about Michael?”

“Uh, not too much.”

“You think he, in any reality, would have had that much interest in a hunk of wood?”

Nico had scarcely met him more than a couple times, but Michael Yew made an impression, that was for sure. For someone who was shorter than Nico when he was ten years old, he sure took up a lot of space. In the few times Nico remembers seeing him, he’d been concerned with his bow, his camera, or showing any given person who so much as blinked at him wrong just how quickly he could turn their ass concave. If Nico is correct, actually, the one time he and a pegasus had been in the same vicinity, they’d hissed at each other. Nico didn’t even know pegasi could hiss.

He tries to find a delicate way to say this.

“He seemed more interested in other endeavours,” he says politely.

Will laughs loudly. “He would rather shove an arrow in his eye than race a chariot!” His bright smile is impossible not to match, and Nico is relieved to find him totally comfortable, relaxed; hell, even excited. Usually, any talk of his siblings, even fond, makes him quiet. He’s glad for this change, however unusual. “Man, I loved my brother more than anything, but he was the most ornery motherfucker I’ve ever met in my life. He taught me every swear in every language by the time I was nine, just because he knew it would drive Lee batty. He didn’t care about some spoil of war.”

He smirks, wide and devilish, and Nico’s knees go weak. Dimples like that should be illegal.

“He was smart, though. And he figured, if dad’s blessing made this chariot anything like his own…”

He reaches out and presses the golden button with his thumb, letting go and standing back once he registers a faint click. After a couple seconds, the chariot begins to glow, soft at first, then brighter, then Nico has to squeeze his eyes shut to avoid the stinging burn, and then when he opens them, it —

He gapes. Will grins.

Where the chariot used to be, is now a shiny, brand-new, black and yellow motorbike, two helmets gleaming on the sparkling leather seat.

“…Then it might be a little more than some lousy chariot.”

Without waiting for Nico to pick his jaw off the floor, Will rushes forward. He tosses one of the helmets to Nico — which he barely manages to catch, still working on processing what the fuck just happened — and tucks the other under his arm. Nico happens to notice how his biceps flex with the action, and then vows to have his father bankrupt the entire polo shirt industry, because he can never be caught lacking like this by any mortal soul. It’s humiliating.

There’s a click as Will unlatches the seat, lifting it up to access the compartment under it. He pulls out a bundle mass of black fabric, and with a flick of his shoulders reveals it to be a fucking leather jacket and oh, gods, Nico takes back the polo shirt complaints, he can live with the polo shirt. This is too much. This is —

“Any time you’re done ogling at me, you can climb on,” Will calls out. He doesn’t even have the good grace to look in Nico’s direction, instead sliding on the seat facing resolutely forward, amused smirk on his face. And because he wants Nico to die, actually, he straightens his jacket, making sure it fits his shoulders right (by the gods does it ever) brushes his hair backwards (there is no genuine reason for someone’s hair to actually shine in the sunlight) and slides his helmet on. When he finally does look back in Nico’s direction, through his raised visor, the combined sight of his sparkling blue eyes and the cut of his face under the angular helmet actually gives him tachycardia.

“I hate you,” Nico croaks. “Not joking.”

Will throws his head back and laughs, baring his long, tanned throat. Nico follows the bob of his adam’s apple like Tantalus does the forbidden fruit. It’s horrible, and what’s worse is that Will is visibly preening like the fuckin’ peacock he is. Someone should remind him he’s basically a dressed up turkey. Or something. Nico’s brain is operating at twenty percent capacity, his ability to metaphor properly is a secondary concern.

“Just get over here, you goober. We’re on a time limit, remember?”

Shoving his helmet on to hide his flaming face, Nico does, sliding on with a healthy four inches of space between them.

“Mm, not gonna work, ParaNorman. This thing’s enchanted, we’ll be going well over a hundred. Hold on properly.”

Praying to seven different gods for strength, at once, Nico scooches the agonizing few inches closer.

“Hands around waist, Death Boy.”

“I’m fucking — I’m getting there, you asshole, gimme a goddamn second.”

“Do you need help?”

“I need you to shut the fuck up so I can focus.”

Maybe it’s the healer in him, or maybe there actually is a god looking out for Nico and they decide to have mercy. Maybe it’s a third option. Either way, Will reaches back and wraps his callused hands around Nico’s wrist, tugging them gently forward and resting them on the narrow curve of his hips. Nico holds them there, along with his breath, until some of the panicky tension starts to loosen in his chest, and he relaxes forward, resting his chest against Will’s back.

“There,” he says quietly, humming with approval when Nico’s arms link properly around his waist. He squeezes his clasped wrists once — a silent you good? — and waits for Nico’s minute nod, face buried in the back of Will’s neck, before starting up the engine, revving it twice before leaning forward, body flush to the bike. Nico can practically feel his grin, it’s so clear in his mind’s eye, in the delight thrumming through Will’s entire body, that he can’t help his own smile, too, can’t help but feel the thrum of the machine, the sharp smell in the air. He tightens his hold and Will lets out a loud, whooping laugh.

“Let’s ride, baby!”

With a push off the ground and a twist of a thrusters, they’re off, leaving behind only the echo of the roaring engine and the joyful, startled sound of Nico’s shriek.

———

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obi-wkenobi · 2 years

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Vader can rip ships apart and bend the Force to his every whim, but do you know what I think is better? that Obi-Wan is still outsmarting Anakin a decade later and showing him why he’s the Master.

#yeah vader is a bamf #but so is obi-wan #its about subtlety #something vader distinctly lacks haha #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #darth vader #star wars #kenobi series #kenobi spoilers #obi wan kenobi spoilers #zoe.txt

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hyperfixationgoddess · 1 year

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Inspired by the fanfiction link above; kind of an aftermath scenario. I love the idea of Wayne being extra protective of Steve after Steve saved Eddie's life, and getting even more protective of him after he and Eddie start dating. What can I say, I'm a Wayne Munson simp. Also, while I might not have a lot of respect for him anymore, see if you can find the John Mulaney quote I slipped in here! @artiststarme I hope you like it!

Finally Protected

Wayne Munson was a lot of things. A salty grump, a loner, an uncle, a father.

But most of all, he was loyal.

Once someone earned his loyalty, it lasted for life. He would stick with them through thick and thin, and defend them against anyone. And against all odds, Steve Harrington had earned his loyalty.

Anyone with eyes could see that Steve was head over heels in love with Wayne's boy. Which was why he could not comprehend why it was Steve who was on the receiving end of all these goddamn shovel talks.

Found family, my ass, he thought to himself. Even that Buckley girl had given Steve a talk. Were they all stupid? They'd known Steve, really known him, for much longer than Wayne or Eddie had. How could they still think that Steve would hurt anyone, much less Eddie?

The worst thing about it was, Wayne knew that Steve would forgive them. It didn't matter how many times the Party hurt him, Steve would just shrug it off, like his feelings didn't matter. And considering Steve had already earned the loyalty of the Munsons, Wayne had a problem with that.

A big problem.

The day after Eddie apologized and the two boys made up, Wayne dropped by to talk to Steve. Even as he settled on the couch in the living room, he could see the tension in Steve's shoulders.

"You can relax, kiddo," he said. "I'm not mad at ya. Not here to give you another goddamn shovel talk, either."

Steve's eyebrows rose. "Really?"

Wayne nodded. "Eddie's an adult now, and he knows how to take care of himself. No, I'm here to talk about the rest of the Party."

Steve looked confused. "What do you mean?"

Wayne sighed. "Boy, you need to set some boundaries with these people."

"Boundaries?"

"Steve, I know this ain't the first time these folks have hurt you. Lord knows Eddie has gone on many rants about how the kids keep calling you an idiot, or how the Wheeler girl cheated on you after 'she ripped your heart out of your chest and stomped on it.' Eddie's words, by the way."

Steve looked uncomfortable, now. "Well, the kids are just messing around. And I shouldn't have tried to hold on to Nancy the way I did."

"The kids are old enough now to learn how to mess around without being disrespectful. And Nancy should have been honest with you instead of leading you on," Wayne countered.

Steve still looked apprehensive. Wayne sighed (again-he'd been doing that a lot lately).

"Look, Steve, I'm not saying you have to cut them out of your life. I know that'd be devastating for ya. But just letting them hurt you, and not saying a word about it... You deserve better than that."

Steve's eyes misted over. "No, I don't," he choked out. When Wayne opened his mouth to protest, the kid shook his head rapidly. "You don't understand, Mr. Munson, I was a really bad person in high school. The things I said about people... I'd tear them down without a second thought. I-"

Sensing that Steve was about to go on a self deprecating tangent, Wayne cut him off.

"Did you know that Eddie used to rant about you?"

This seemed to startle the kid. "Um... What?"

Wayne chuckled. "Yeah, I won't go into details, but he was very vocal about how much you bugged him... But then, out of nowhere, in 1984, he stopped. I asked him why, because I was curious. Do you know what he said?"

Steve gulped. "What?"

"He said, and I quote, 'he hasn't actually been an asshole in a while, and now that everyone else is trying to kick him down, I don't want to contribute to that.' You made a change, Steve. Not many people are willing to do that. Hell, most ain't even willing to believe that there's something wrong with em. But you were. I'll keep telling you, as many times as I have to for it to sink in. You don't deserve to be hurt."

The tears Steve had been holding back this whole time finally seemed to overwhelm him. Wayne scooched over to him and wrapped him in a hug.

"You've had to be strong for so long, kid. Let me look after you, yeah? Lord knows you deserve protection just as much as Eddie does."

Steve didn't answer, but he nodded. That was enough for now.

--0--

Wayne had been pacing around Steve's living room for about ten minutes when he finally heard the doorbell ring. It would appear that this group traveled as a pack, because every single member of the party was there.

That is, every member but two.

"Mr. Munson?" Dustin asked confusedly. "What's going on? Where's Steve?"

Wayne grunted. "All of ya just come in. I'll explain once you get settled. And I'm sayin this now, I expect you all to listen."

When everyone was sitting around the living room, Hopper was the first to speak up. "So Wayne, what's going on? Where's the kid?"

Wayne scowled. "If you mean Steve, he's at my trailer with Eddie. If that were big enough, we'd be there instead, but there's too many of you, and I need you all to hear this."

The Buckley girl looked extremely confused. "Why would you want us here if Steve isn't?"

Wayne took a deep breath in an attempt to control his anger. "Because it would seem to me that you lot forget just how much that boy does for all of you."

Joyce furrowed her brow. "Um... What?"

"You folks got a lot of nerve, acting like Steve is the one who's gonna hurt Eddie. He ain't a ticking time bomb, and you gotta stop treating him like it. After everything he's done for you lot, it astounds me how you can still treat him like crap. Found family, my ass."

Nancy Wheeler opened her mouth with an angry expression, but Wayne cut her off. "Don't go acting so high and mighty, Wheeler. Did you even realize that Steve still flinches when anyone uses the word bullshit? You tore his heart out of his chest and stomped on it, and then slept with another guy before you even broke up with Steve properly."

That seemed to shut her up. Good.

"And as for you kids, how many times has Steve taken a beating for you? The only ones that I've seen being respectful to him are Will and El. The rest of you... You've all been the victims of bullies, according to Steve. So explain to me, how in the hell can you justify the way you all treat him on a daily basis? Insulting his intelligence, bossing him around, disregarding the work he's done to change, all of that has to stop."

The kids tried to protest, but Wayne was on a roll. He rounded on Joyce, Hopper, and Robin. "Hopper, Joyce, Eddie is my kid. He ain't your responsibility. You had no right to give Steve that goddamn shovel talk as if he were still the guy he was in high school. And you, Miss Buckley? You call yourself Steve's best friend. You might wanna try acting like it.

"Now, I know that Steve sees you all as family. That's the only reason I ain't told him to cut you folks out of his life. But Steve has got no standard for how he should be treated as a human being. Whether you lot realize it or not, you've all taken advantage of that. He thinks that he deserves it, but I've seen the effort he makes every day to be better than he was. Most won't even accept that they need to be better, and it would seem that you folks are a part of that majority. I know that he deserves better, and I ain't even known him a whole year. That says something about you, don't it?

"Now, you are going to give Steve as much space as he needs. You won't ask him to babysit, you won't ask him to chauffeur you around, you won't ask him for money. You'll take some time to think about how you've treated him. And when you feel you're ready to apologize-not because of guilt or obligation, but because you mean it-you tell me. I'll let Steve know. But only when Steve is ready to see you all again, and not a second more, will I let you talk to him."

Wayne shared a vicious smile with El and Will, and then looked at the rest of them with a raised eyebrow.

"Now get the hell out of my future son-in-law's house."

Fin

#stranger things #steve harrington #wayne munson appreciation post #wayne munson #bamf wayne munson #steddie #bi steve harrington #i fucking love wayne #he protects steve because i say so #this took so long to write #but it was worth it

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deadsetobsessions · 3 months

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What Do You Have There?

A knife!

Danny plunked the butter knife in its pedestal of importance. The nice thing about having a billionaire vigilante for a... foster is the amount of money Danny was allowed to drop on his hobbies. For example, his extensive collection of souvenirs.

They're not just any old regular souvenirs. No, no, no. That would be so boring! No, these souvenirs, he obtained from the various muggings, knife fights, and various other situations he's been in ever since he was dropped ungraciously into Gotham.

The butter knife? Damian. Precocious, stabby Damian who he had startled into the stab instinct. A point of pride, really. Danny knew Damian was good at fighting! It was practically, in ghost terms, a super enthusiastic hello! Yes, the butter knife would be kept in the well lit part of the wall. Alfred had told him to stay home today to recuperate. He didn't need it, since the wound would heal in an hour or two, but he'd take staying at home any day.

A couple of hours later, well into the afternoon and right before what Danny knew to be their patrol hours, Danny had a visitor.

"Danny."

"Oh, hey, Damian! What's up?" Danny turned around to see Damian hovering awkwardly near the door.

"I am here to... check upon your wound. It is imperative that it gets proper treatment."

Ancients, Damian was exactly like those alley kids. He just ate a thesaurus instead of the drawling accent the alley kids picked up. Which meant Damian endeared himself to Danny pretty quickly. Like a little ghostling.

"Oh, I'm good. See? No blood is leaking out of the wound." Danny held up spotless bandages.

Danny watched Damian step into his haunt- his room- with a pleased hum. Damian inspected the bandages and stepped back with a sharp nod of approval. His eyes flicked to the wall that Danny was rearranging (again) and did a double take at the butter knife in the middle.

"Is that the butter knife I stabbed you with?"

"Why, yes, it is!" Danny beamed.

"Why on earth would you display that?"

"Because you stabbed me with it?"

"That makes absolutely no sense, you simpleton! When someone stabs you, stab them back!"

"That would be mean!"

Damian spluttered. Danny tugged the kid closer to the wall, cheering inwardly as Damian didn't shove him away. It might be because he was exaggeratedly wincing as he moved his "injured arm" but Danny has learned to take a win where he could find them, especially with ghosts. Not that Damian was a ghost, but he sure acted like one.

"Do you want to see my collection?"

"Your collection?"

"Yeah!" Without giving him time to answer, Danny barreled ahead. "So this is the knife you stabbed me with. Which, by the way, was an awesome show of strength and accuracy."

Damian grimaced. Danny continued blithely, secretly memorizing Damian's reactions to laugh at later.

"And this is the knife those guys stabbed me with that one time Cass found me. And this one is a bullet someone shot at me down by the docks. I think I interrupted some kind of meeting?"

Damian's jaw had a slight tick to it that would have been a baffled frown on anyone else.

"And when was this?"

"Oh, like a week ago."

"What? When did you go to the docks?!"

"At night. I couldn't sleep."

"And you went to the docks?! How did you even get there?!"

"Walked," Danny lied, like a lying liar. He floated, obviously, but none of them knew that. "Anyways, this is a law book! Someone threw it at my head!"

"Hey, guys! What're you doing?"

Danny and Damian turned around.

"Richard? Brown? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Bruce wanted me to come back for the weekend," Dick said. Danny knew it was code for "something's going down and we need back up." Man, he still couldn't believe they didn't know he knew they were crime fighting vigilantes.

"Same!" Stephanie said. Danny was glad to see that her wounds from "cartwheeling in the manor" were healed.

"I see. Danny was showing me his collection of... objects people have used as weapons against him."

"What?!"

"Yeah!" Danny beamed, completely innocent. "Come on! I'll show you!"

With that, Danny continued to ramble. He just knew that the way Dick's and Stephanie's smiles strained would give him a good laugh for weeks to come. "And this is the glass bottle a drunk tried to shank me with in Crime Alley, and this is a knife the Red Hood himself threw at me."

Dick interrupted, face stiff. "Hood threw a knife at you?!"

"Yeah, but that was because my kids broke into his safe house and I was trying to get them to stop looting the place. And he didn't know I was a kid too, so he aimed a gun at my head. He shot at me too, but I couldn't go back to get the bullet, or else it would have joined my collection." Danny grabbed a box and shook it, metal rattling inside.

Dick smiled sweetly, Stephanie and Damian inching away from it.

"Oh, wow, I see!"

----

In his apartment, Jason shuddered. He grabbed his guns.

"Something's wrong. I just know it," he muttered to himself.

----

Danny smiled innocently as he described the horrific, near death events he got his souvenirs from.

"This is my bullet box! Man, Gotham has a lot of gun fights. I got shot so many times!" Danny complained, shaking the box like a rattling toy.

"Did you know Danny snuck out to go to the bay?" Damian snitched immediately, like a snitch.

"The Bay?! Danny! You know that's where people dump bodies, right?!" Stephanie poked him in the arm.

"Yeah, but like... I wouldn't die. And besides! I missed my friends!"

"You mean the minions you made in Crime Alley?" Steph asked. Danny pouted, eyeing the way Dick's gaze roved over his souvenirs and paling the more he realized how often Danny "got hurt."

Damian bumped a shoulder against Dick's arm. Danny returned to the conversation.

"If anything, I'm their minion." He said, remembering the times the Alley kids sent him on food runs.

"Fear Danny, the overlord of street rats."

Danny snorted. And- "Oh! Yeah, there was like a weird owl looking guy? And then they stabbed me with a finger and I kept it because woah, cool talon looking thing, right? And then they threw a bunch of those tiny knives at me? And then they just kind of vanished? Gotham is so weird."

And now, with all of them pale and stressed out of their minds, Danny swung a devastating blow called guilt trip.

"And that's the batarangs!" Three heads swung over to the line of batarangs. "Those vigilantes kept throwing them at me! One of them even hit me in the arm. Those things are sharp, man."

"Uh. Which ones?" Stephanie asked.

"Hm?" Danny hummed obliviously.

"Do you know which vigilantes?"

"Oh, it was like... the purple one. And the sword one? And like the one with the yellow insignia in the middle. And... all of them, I think? Except for signal. That guy's cool."

Stephanie and Damian had matching veiled looks of guilt. Dick shot them a sharp look. Danny decided to deal the last bit of damage to Dick.

"I'm glad you guys are way less stabby than the general Gotham public though, butter knife incident aside. At least I don't have to worry about you guys getting into danger, right? If you guys got hurt like my family did... I don't know..."

Danny smiled-squinted at them, channeling Cujo at his cutest and saddest: when he doesn't get to eat off of Danny's plate. So, pretty sad and pathetic.

"Uh, yeah." Dick said, guilt splayed all over his face. "Alfred said dinner was almost ready."

"Yes," Damian cleared his throat, looking away. "We shall partake in Pennyworth's hard work."

"Ahaha!" Stephanie laughed, nervously. "Welp, let's go bother Tim!"

Falling into step behind them, Danny grinned.

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im-no-jedi · 7 months

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this has such meme potential, I'm losing my mind 😂

#ahsoka #ahsoka series #anakin skywalker #captain rex #ahsoka tano #ahsoka spoilers #someone funnier than me PLEASE add text to this #this image sums up this trio's relationship SO well #XDXDXD #BEST CHARACTER FOREVER AND ALWAYS #Captain BAMF #Ahsoka u so sassy #star warz

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snakeredbirdbatkatana · 1 month

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Damian's panicking.

It was idiotic the moment he saw Grandfather enter Gotham he should have called Father, or Richard even Todd but instead he went on a one man sucide mission.

He knows that he has nothing to prove he didnt have to track Ra's down egaged him in a fight that he can't win.

Especially when he isn't fighting to kill even back in the league trying his hardest he never measured up, his Grandfather has been and will always be untouchable.

He's down katana lost somewhere down below it's almost fitting another Robin dangling off the top of Wayne enterprises. Pearched at his throat a Katana ready to tear through blade sharpenerd that even with only the slight pressure a drop of blood has already rolled down his neck.

He will die again at the hands of another member of his family he seems immortal until it comes to another Al Ghul.

Tears start to slide down he hears grandfathers cruel laughter at how pathetic his grandson is he closes his eyes he doesn't want to see.

A sharp gasp reaches his ears and than a pained moan.

His eyes snap open.

Ra's Al Ghul stands a blade protruding from his heart that is quickly ripped out as he drops to his knees.

Damian's forces his gaze to move from his grandfathers bleeding corpse to the figure holding the blade.

His brother stands in nothing more than his suit he can't help the relieved sob as he pulls himself further away from the edge and throws himself into Tim's waiting arms.

"How did you find me, how did you get here so fast," he forces out through the sobs that's are starting to hurt his chest.

Tim pulls away enough to force Damian's head to gaze up.

"Oh sweetheart, Dami your literally on top of my building, Nevermind that kiddo I'll always find you."

He collapses back into his brothers arms burrowing as far as he can into his chest he doesn't have the energy to do much else other than cling.

He feels Tim shift him so he's carrying Damian as the adrenaline runs out. He doesn't try to fight sleep as he dozes off feeling safer than he ever has with the brother who saved him.

His brother who must have run from whatever meeting he was in without any armor to rescue his little brother. He wasn't saved by Red Robin but by Tim Drake and for once he can't imagine how he ever wished for a different one.

#tim drake #batfamily #bamf tim drake #Imagine Tim looks out his window and sees a dangling Robin and than boy is booking it. The flash doesn't got shit on how fast Tim was #fucking running #Jason is also booking it to Wayne enterprises along with Bruce and Dick everyone is literally running for their lives to get to Damian #Bruce isn't even mad at the corpse well he is a little bit Dick looks two seconds away from ripping his throat out so he is shuting up.#Damian is soooooo getting lectured #also Tim will be chipping his ass #damian wayne #dami loves his brothers #tim drake is a menace #Dami wakes up to all his big brothers gone because they are tearing apart the entire league with their bare hands #jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #batfam #bamf batfamily

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whaliiwatching · 10 months

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surprise attack!

#spider man: across the spider verse #spider punk #spider noir #hobie brown #noirpunk #what if. what if they were cute and sappy with each other #yes i adore bamf noirpunk but also my favorite trope is Being So Moonstruck by Someone…#hobie’s design is adapted to a half-lidded look so i wanted to try genuine surprise

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autisticlancemcclain · 3 months

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fic rec friday 58

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

The Value of a Moment by @a-fools-errand

When Lance’s previously obsolete skills in language suddenly become very useful, he finds himself wondering why aliens can’t account for the fact that humans, particularly him, need sleep and would prefer linear timelines. (Or: an Arrival AU because I love that movie)

yall OBSESSED does not begin to cover it. i have never read a fic where lance was so goddamn cool. and in like. the insanest of ways?? like of course lance is a polyglot but THIS....this is a whole new level. i havent even finished it fully yet but like god this thing is so fucking cool. if ur looking for a longfic stop looking

2. Rest Stop by @flaming-potato-arsonarson

Lance wasn't like the rest of the world. And he had never had a loving mother tell him it made him stronger for it. So he told himself, gathering up his courage and grit to face a world of winged humanity, when he, in fact, has no wings and turns into a mermaid instead. A world that wants him to die. So he'd keep this secret like a knife in his boot, a sharp weapon until he died on his own terms. Not because of who he was. Except, Team Voltron isn't so sure why Lance is all rough edges and sharp points about showing off his wings. Or acting like a member of the Flock in general. It's clear he cares for them, but he's never shown an intimate part of him. Until he has to.

oh god this has gotta be one of my CLASSIC fics. read it a few dozen times. i read it right when it came out, six ish years ago (goddamn), i can remember curling up in my old bunk bad and eating this up as the hours ticked by. i was HOOKED. my jaw was dropped my eyes were glued. could not get enough. if youre looking for mermaid lance with a twist....brother this is it

3. Looking for Rain by @thewriter2

Like most things, it starts with the little things: his smile, his confidence, his talent. Eventually, all these little things add up to one big thing that threatens to crash over them like a heavy rain. But, maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing. Maybe something beautiful would come from it. A 5+1 (really a 10+1) of Lance and Keith falling in love.

oh god guys..... @thewriter2 knows how to fucking haunt you. if a 10+1 (!!) isnt enough for you, i want you to know this line has been echoing in my head since i first read: "He looks at you like you’re a storm and he’s a desert desperate to drown." UM??? EXCUSE ME???? SIMILE OF ALL TIME ACTUALLY???? keith being so so visibly obviously in love with lance is my actual roman empire shit never leaves my mind

4. Astronauts by @thewriter2

When they entered the Blue Lion, Keith was Lance’s rival--the person Lance was working so hard to surpass. But slowly, Lance found himself thinking of Keith less as a rival and more as something close to a friend. So of course, Lance’s traitor of a heart decided that it would be Lance’s kind of friend that it would fall in love with.

tags to sell you: "keith is a dork but lance loves him anyway" (dorky keith my beloved), "hunk is an a+ friend" (yes he is), "lance is a lovesick fool" (yeah), and "allura is older sister goals" yes yes YES you get it. and like....while keith pov is my favourite to write by far, lances pov as he realises he is in love....that will always hold such a special special place in my heart

5. his own worth by frogsterz

In the middle of the conversation, Lance stops talking and no one notices. It’s not like he had been leading the conversation, for he hadn’t been, but somehow the fact that his lack of input or opinion isn’t noticed tightens the grip loneliness has on his heart. He looks down at his food, his face burning, his throat tightening up.

now usually anything but team as family isnt my deal. im not big on classic langst. but keith as a knight in shining armour.....what can i say i am weak willed. deeply. also " It’s what made it worse. I miss home and I miss being held and the rain, and I loved you. I thought you hated me." got me so bad got me WEAK like i have never recovered from that line and i doubt i ever will

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

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