#and that kids is how i met your fathers

[lanormie]

heathens

how you met Dabi and Shigaraki during a prison break wc: 1.4k cw: graphic violence, minor character death, implied sexual harassment

Whoever came up with the idea of implementing gen-pop at Tartarus is an imbecile.

Leave it to the Commission and their precious heroes to believe the most dangerous and irredeemable criminals should ‘get a chance at rehabilitation’ by socializing with other dangerous and irredeemable criminals. It’s utterly ironic that most of them end up getting shipped off to rot in solitary anyway, with how often vicious fights and mutinies break out.

These people, or these villains, are either masterminds or mass-destruction weapons, or somewhere in between. But they all have one thing in common: they’re absolutely batshit insane. And when it comes to keeping these psychotic individuals in check, quirk-nullifying cuffs are band-aid on a bullet hole. So naturally, they’re never really ‘in check’.

You’d like to think you’re also batshit insane, but after spending months in this pit of hell, you don’t think you have a realistic point of reference anymore. After all, you still have some pitiful remnants of sanity left at the bottom of the barrel, and they tell you that those 15 minutes of outdoor time everyday is worth not choking the shit out of Tosaka, the creepy ass guard assigned to your block.

Most days are spent keeping to yourself, constantly looking over shoulder watching out for Tosaka’s wandering hands, and doodling like a fucking toddler who has only one way of expressing their morbid and unfiltered obsession with mortality: through hilariously wobbly drawings that involve blood and scattered innards.

Crunch.

The lead of your pencil gives out under the pressure of your hand, and you curse. A strange foreboding feeling has been weighing you down all day, keeping you awfully on edge.

Tension has been simmering within the confines of these reinforced walls for days, ever since that one high-profile criminal was escorted through the halls of Tartarus towards their current holding: the solitary wing.

Shigaraki Tomura.

He hasn’t been released to gen-pop yet, but his presence has already divided the prisoner population neatly into two. The first half are foaming at their mouth for a challenge, and the other half are quaking in their boots and sweating bullets. Either way, it’s not going to be a pretty sight.

Getting up from your creaking metal bench, you make your way towards the hand crank pencil sharpener. Looking up to make sure Tosaka isn’t around to make some nasty comment, you shove the pencil into the receptor, eyes catching on to some movements across the room.

The crowd near the entrance starts to cautiously part, and you see two high-level guards escorting in a new face. A patchy, stitched together by staples face, like a fucked up teddy bear. His frightfully bright turquoise eyes peer around as he keeps getting pushed forward by the guards, seemingly bored out of his mind. Until those lidded orbs catch yours.

A roguish smirk pulls painfully at the staples around his cheek as he gets led in your direction. He keeps his eye contact keen till he’s almost past where you stand, only then does he mouth a string of words to you.

“Count to ten.”

And you do.

One.

He winks mischievously before finally turning away.

Two.

The guards urge him through the exit behind you.

Three.

You realize that’s the exit leading to the solitary wing.

Four.

You return the to the hand crank sharpener.

Five.

You start rotating the crank with utmost caution.

Six.

You check to see if the pencil is at its peak sharpness.

Seven.

It is.

Eight.

You take a deep inhale.

Nine.

And exhale.

Ten.

Alarm starts blaring, its sound deafening and its red light blinding. It’s an assault to the senses, but you know better than to start cowering. Some rumbling can be felt through the floor, and whatever it is is barreling its way in your direction.

Suddenly someone’s yanking you backward, and you whip around to find Tosaka with his features twisted in panic and anger.

“Inmate, back to your cell, now!”

“Unhand me bitch.”

You snarl, and with practiced precision, you jam the pencil into his eye socket.

An ear piercing shriek leaves his throat, catching other guards’ attention. But before they can mobilize, a wave of prisoners, no doubt emboldened by your mutiny, moves to take them down one by one.

With the pencil in your hand still wedged into Tosaka’s brain, you jog the bastard backward towards the wall behind him and smash his skull against it, knocking the jerk out cold. Immediately, you start rummaging through his pockets till you find the tiny metal god that would answer all your prayers: the quirk nullifying cuff master key.

You are finally free of the cuffs when the entrance wall gets smashed open. And then you see them. Grotesque, dripping in blood and saliva, brain-hanging-out-in-the-open absolute freaks of nature.

Nomus.

Not looking to die a gory death today, you press yourself against a column and watch the creatures pummel their way towards the solitary wing, reducing guards and prisoners alike to puddles of crimson flesh.

Holding your breath as they rip the doors apart and disappear into the hall, you back away towards the entrance, hoping the wreckage they left on their way in would lead you out of here.

C’mon, gimme something. Where are you buddy?

You close and open your palm repeatedly, searching and willing for your quirk to kick into gear. The path to the outside is hilariously straightforward, almost like a tunnel, with sweet, sweet sunlight shining in at the end of it. Stuffing your lungs with a deep inhale, you step on the gas.

You’re so close to ditching this joint when a blur of woody brown abruptly lands in front of you.

“Not an inch further, inmate.”

Another thud lands behind you and you whip around.

Heroes. You’re cornered by goddamned heroes.

Turning back forward, you decide to buy yourself some time.

“Kamui Woods! Wow, the news made you look so much taller.”

Any second now.

“And you!” You turn towards the other hero. “Sorry, no clue who you are.”

“I’m–”

“Don’t give a shit.” You cut him off. “Why don’t you guys make yourselves useful and chase after the real threat in there, hm? Nomus seem way more urgent than little ol me– ow!”

Kamui Woods’ woody tendrils shoot out and wrap around your upper body in suffocatingly tight coils. You, however, don’t even bother to wiggle out of the hold, because you can finally feel it approaching. And it’s approaching fast.

The corner of your lips pulls into a smirk when a small blur of white dashes in from the entrance, ripping straight through the tree trunk bastard’s heart on its way to its final destination: the center of your open palm. 

You’re reunited once more with your most prized possession: the ivory blade crafted from your own rib bones. A deadly weapon which you can manipulate its shape, size, density and speed through your quirk. And most importantly, it always comes back to you. 

A maniacal cackle bubbles from your chest as the wooden tendrils fall limply from your body.

“You fucking idiot!” You roar at the fallen form of the Number Four Hero. Or shall you say, former No. 4 Hero. “You should’ve gone for the hands!”

You must’ve looked insane with the bloodlust craze in your eyes and the crimson-stained blade dangling from your hand cause when you finally turn around, you find the no-name fuckface slowly backing away from the scene.

Only to turn a petrifying gray, as if he has just looked Medusa in the eye, and disintegrate into dust. The ashened particles fall to the ground like sand, revealing a lanky figure with long, wavy silver locks cascading down his shoulders.

The stranger stares curiously at the corpse of Kamui Woods, his eyes following the splatter of blood from the hero’s left chest all the way to the dripping tip of your beloved dagger.

All of the sudden, the rubbles and ruins behind him erupt into scorching blue flames. Moments after, the raven haired man you saw earlier emerges from the fire, looking not a least bit bothered by the raging heat.

Ruby and sapphire orbs meet yours, and in the flickering light of the inferno, the two men look ethereal. Like some deities blessed with breathtaking carnage and destruction.

Like angels of hell.

Scarred lips crack into a wide malevolent grin, and with a voice as thorny as his aura, the silvered hair man declares.

“It looks like you might be one of us.”

my sincerest apologies to Kamui Woods stans 🧎‍♀️ reader is a Tartarus level criminal with a pseudo mjolnir, he didn't stand a chance 🫡

[pix-writes]

Uhhhh Stan adopting a teenage runaway who came from an abusive home. (He sees a lot of his past self when he was homeless in them and vows to save them from the life he had)

This is kind of adjacent to an idea for a fic I've already had! But I couldn't resist doing a little bit about this scenario! <3

Stan has already basically adopted Wendy and Soos already, even without fully meaning to with Soos he sees that he needs a father figure in his life and sort-of does the best he can to be that. With Wendy, its different too because it's basically canon that he just lets her get away with stuff because he knows she needs somewhere away from home to relax (even tho he could definitely get another employee who doesn't bunk off so much). Will he admit that's what he's doing though? Of course not!

Despite his exterior/persona, though, Stanley Pines is a kind man who wants to help people who most need it - like you say, he's been in that position enough times himself. I'm sure there's been the occaisonal person who's helped him out in the past, even if they never stuck around. Well, now he's Mr Mystery, he can sort-of be that person for others, not just because he's more stable, but also because he desperatly wants connection, especially after losing his brother in the portal (though that's also a reason to keep everyone at arms length to an extent, so they can never find out about his double life).

Runaway teen & Stan pines (under cut):

I can imagine you ran away from home and come across Gravity Falls, perhaps you had even seen the ads for tourist stops in this area, or maybe you just found the most random small town on your travels and decided to stop there - your travels are erratic so that no one can follow you or suspect you of being a runaway. Not that you really expect your parents to be concerned, at least not for long. That's why you had to get away and stay gone, you had reached your breaking point for what you could handle.

It starts to rain, you go to the local diner but your travel money is fast becoming less and less... you only order coffee, nursing it there for as long as possible, but when business starts to pick up you realise just how small of a town it is, everyone seems to know nearly everybody around here! You've already gotten a few curious glances or greetings put your way and you decide to leave.

Wandering around, you end up on the outskirts of town, there's a fair few campsites around, now lying half empty since its off-season right now, maybe you coud stay on the edge of the forest somewhere? Pinch some tent equipment from somewhere or from someone who doesn't need it? You already had a sleeping bag, water bottle, a torch. You just needed something to keep more of the rain off of you!

That's when you wander into an opening within the forest, notice the wooden signs nailed to the trees. You see a small group of tourists being spoken to by some guy, his voice carrying across the place, gravelly and jovial, and in your surprise you just stare dumbfounded - this place isn't closed? The group is moving and you take in your surroundings and you're so cold and wet and hungry, you're not really thinking ahead when go in, pulling your hoodie down over your face and sneaking in beind the throng of people, unnoticed.

But it turns out that you had been noticed, after the bizarre tour of this overpriced tourist trap, you lurk behind, the rain hasn't let up outside and you're wondering when the place might close, now that the tourists had filtered out the place was pretty dead, which is when a large hand lands on your shoulder making you jump out of your skin and your eyes land on the proprietor.

"Hey! You gonna at least buy anything, kid?"

You apologise and stutter, feeling like you want to bolt but totally caught at the same time. Stan immediately picks up on the fact that you're so twitchy, even for a teen. He eases up on you, switching to a friendlier tone. Wendy asks you where you're staying, curiosity getting the better of her usually nonchalant demeanour. You tell them you just got lost from the campsite and Stan isn't buying it one bit but Wendy has given you the directions and you're out of the door. The interaction doesn't sit right with him. He knows exactly where you're hiding out by the time you've stayed there overnight. Having discovered the pop up tent you 'found' set up in the woods not far away.

He decides to keep an eye on you, he's worried being direct will make startle you, like a deer in headlights, at the diner he doesn't acknowledge you at first just pushes a plate of food subtly towards you, for you to swipe. After that he manages to make small talk, hes still wondering how he can help you, what excuse he can make so it seems like he's offering you something and it be believable instead of suspicious.

Maybe he complains there's no one around to do the stock take now that summer is well and truly over, you perk up, saying you'd like some extra pocket money. You come right on time and the owner of the Mystery Shack introduces himself properly, shows you what you need to do. You take your time, living rough has made you exhausted mentally/physically, and because... you've begun to like the place as kooky as it is. And wouldn't you know it, Mr Pines has made more food than he expected and wouldn't you like some? You come back the next day and its pretty much the same, though you are starting to pick up on where Stan is subtly gaining information on you. He both curses and admires how whip-smart you are, reminds him of himself a lot further into being homeless than you are (reminds him of someone else too...), he worries that night of whether you'll have run off, if you'd get into trouble somewhere else, but you return the following afternoon. This time, Stan levels with you -

"Look kid, I don't know what's going on at home and trust me when I say I get it - but whatever's going on, it's probably not worth staying out in the woods, epseically 'round here, it's dangerous!" He reassures you he's not going to call anyone, though, just asks you to reconsider, think about how much trouble you might get into, if you don't turn up to school how you're going to explain yourself, how are you going to get a job? You swipe frustrated tears from your eyes and thank him for being concerned, though its hollow. How can you return home now? All you're going to get is more abuse, you can only think of how angry they'll all be if you did!

You end up wandering to some other town, using the money Stan gave you to get a bus and find a place to stay, having seen a load of jobs you could apply for. Turns out though, that some of your family had been looking for you and tracked your phone, you end up in a fight with them, receiving a hard slap to the face before running away once more! You pack up your things and head straight to the first place you think of.

Once you get there, its dark, you hesitate before knocking but you've came all this way. When Stan opens the door all of the shock and adrenaline has seemed to have worn off and you see the mix of sadness, surprise and anger on his face at the clear mark on your face from the fight.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know where else to go." Is all you can get out before bursting into tears. He let's you stay, you've been out in the cold and so stressed over this time that when you come in you're shivering, you end up running a nasty fever. You're so exhausted there's nothing left but to accept your fate and Stan feels he must help you. He piles on the blankets and gives you hot drinks and plain food till the fever runs its course.

He still has a bit of trouble with authorities/some family members looking for you in the area, you traded your old phone in for another and Stan was eventually able to brush them off your trail. He couldn't help it, he liked the kid in the small amount of time he knew them and it was clear that you had danger waiting for you at home. You had told him a little after the first night you had stayed at the shack, words tumbling out of your mouth about your trauma, how you couldn't stand your family. His heart sank as he remembered his own life as a young man, a kid technically, homeless and making ends meet and was determined you wouldn't have the same fate. Yet he had to know you were sure.

"You really want to stay here - in this boring ol' town? At the shack?" You were determined you would, as long as he was okay with that, you vowed to work hard, sweep the floors, keep an eye on the gift shop when Wendy couldn't, anything to be useful. But, you didn't want him to get into trouble. Too little too late for that, he thought to himself.

"But, really do ya want to see this ugly mug every day?" He said gesturing to his face. That brought a slight smile to your face, in fact you ended up giggling and he knew he wouldn't be able to get rid of you now (like he ever would've entertained it).

He sighed. "So, do you trust me? Cause I need some kind of story if ya gonna stay here, kiddo."

He needed a lot more than that of course, he ended up getting you a fake ID and if anyone asked, you were family, here to stay for a while. When people asked anything more than that he got cagey, but he liked thinking of you being a Pines, another part of the family. Part of him felt guilty for doing it too, faking that you had the same last name, he still thought you might not want to stick around, you weren't blood family to him, you had no ties to him, but he wanted family so badly, was it so bad to pretend that you were?

He made sure you got to school, he even started to pack you lunches every day, he wasn't so bothered about homework, saying he didn't think much of school when he went anyway, you both had something more important than that (street smarts!), but when you were struggling with your math homework you were surprised that he semmed to know an awful lot, but then again you probably shouldn't be surprised, he did own a business after all. Whilst there wasn't a lot to do around the Mystery Shack all year round, you still found yourself picking up around the house part of the Shack, doing the laundry, washing the dishes, normal chore stuff - isn't that what teens were supposed to do? Stan was surprised to see a teen do chores unprompted and you were nervous that you'd done something wrong, because why else would he be questioning you? He recovered quickly though and just grumbled out something about 'finally, someone who knows how to pick up after themselves/work' but from the expression on his face, you are relieved to know that he is joking with you and he isn't mad. You're picking up on his quirks.

The months roll by and you started to feel safer, the shack became more familiar, you were less frightened and jumpy, people in town were more friendly, familiar faces and if people knew that you weren't actually related, that you were a runaway, they didn't say anything at all. You were starting to be referred to as 'Stan's kid'. No one had said so in front of Stan so far as you knew, it made you feel some residual guilt, even after all that you're family had done, were you really not a burden to Stan? Was it wrong to see him like a parent? What would you do if he no longer wanted you around? But as much as you were scared of being rejected, a situation came up at the Shack at the beginning of your first summer in the falls. A gathering was forming for a tour and some tourist had asked something or assumed he was your parent, something like that. Unbeknownst to you Stan had heard and he freezed, unconsciously waiting on your response.

"Oh, you'll wanna ask my dad, he's the one over there in the fez?" It just slipped out, you should've said Mr Mystery at work, but you couldn't help the feeling in your chest that it was right. Ever since then you had been tentatively saying it (you eventually start to notice how when you knew Stan had heard it he seemed a little emotional) and Stan now proudly referred to you as 'his kid'. You may or may not call him 'dad' to his face, maybe you'll still just call him 'Stan' but it seems like now you officially have a family!

[hesaprofessional]

I'm currently rewatching HIMYM and the fact that Robin and Barney aren't gonna last is making this way more painful than it would be otherwise. They were such a good match. How I Met Your Father should have had the balls to get them back together istg

[ganymedesclock]

So that #Syrin the Dread Blade tag, thats a new one. Seems like a interesting character, a sentient sword, how did Tyler happen upon them? What does the sword look like, and does it have any special magical abilities? How do they like the other members of the party? Do they actually speak or do they have a telepathic voice?

Technically it's just a tagging misconception; I haven't tagged Syrin reliably before because his nature as a sword does mean he's kind of attached to Taylor. But he is his own dude!

A short primer: magic items in this setting tend towards a level of awareness. Magic is essentially what souls are made of, ergo, if you stuff enough magic in anything, it starts to have a soul, and behaves accordingly. Entities as fully developed and chatty as Syrin are rare; far more common is that magic items tend to feel just a little bit haunted, inclined towards some things and away from others. It's a bit creepy if you're not used to it; enchantments are commonplace and widely accessible, so that 'not being used to it' is more a statement on if the individual is used to handling a particular thing.

Syrin himself is the ostensible opus of the previous Lord of Darkness, a Dark Sword that was meant to contest and cancel out the legendary sword of light wielded by the hero. Ostensibly, because for unknown reasons Syrin was left in storage the eve of the fateful battle. Being groomed exclusively for this purpose by someone he regarded as a father and then abandoned for ten years definitely wasn't traumatic or terrifying for someone with the cognitive level of a child, we promise. Especially since Syrin needs to eat.

Syrin's construction, and what leads Taylor to point out he's a bit like a 'needle', is a crystal-bladed thrusting sword with a hollow core. Despite its delicate looks, the blade is actually both quite sharp and highly durable; the thin tube at the center being essentially his mouth, by which he is supposed to drink blood. His victims', if he can get it, or, failing that, magically drawn from his host. As a result his blade itself ranges from grayish translucence to dark red if he's gorged to fullness.

From there, he has the power to generate and shape a kind of magical flesh, allowing him to weave more elaborate forms around his core body, the sword.

As you can guess, this gives Syrin a somewhat unpleasant and brutish first impression on people, as he has no verbal filters, was raised by a would-be conqueror of the world, and is dependent on blood and thus interested in more fights than not. I've described him before as like a preteen on xbox live who talks up a nasty game mostly out of loneliness and a need to be liked, where you can tell the kid themselves is not as bad as the people who taught them all those words and that they were "funny".

Deep down (and not all that deep, like I said, no filters), Syrin is a vulnerable child who was groomed to do violence and got no experience with it until strangers came to loot the dangerous ruins he was held in, at which point he did what you'd expect a strong but sheltered child to do faced with a home intruder, and killed/devoured that individual in a panic. His first kill being no glorious conflict or victory approved by his father, but essentially a desperate scramble in the dark with himself on the edge of fatal starvation messed him up even more than ten years of silence.

Enter Taylor and party, who happen to pass through those same environments. Syrin makes an attempt to body-snatch Taylor that fails due to the latter's particular properties, and Taylor, being both a good-hearted person and a stubborn busybody, feels obligated to bring this chatterbox with them and attempt to bully him into developing some sense of tact while Syrin attempts to Corrupt His New Wielder To Violence.

This doesn't work because Syrin has no real ideas how to go about corrupting someone besides loudly telling them to stab things more, while Taylor is an apprentice surgeon and mortician who is a lot more desensitized to bodies and their workings such that if they have a weapon, they'll at least consider it as a solution to most problems. So the punchline is that Syrin is more often thrown/flabbergasted by Taylor than vice versa, while the latter just sees him as a sort of annoying kid who's easily talked into almost anything as long as you compliment him first.

[rose-tinted-nostalgia]

being told you don’t deserve kindness or empathy because you won’t fuck someone is so ridiculous you’d think it wouldn’t hurt to hear, but it does. it really fucking does.

[corroded-cofffin]

why did Hannah go straight to Sophie???? What does it mean....

[imasimpcentral]

Intro!

Hey heres a google doc to get to know me!

Mobile Version

Other Socials Include (not limited to)

[lecoindecachou]

Look not to hate on Charlie and Val as a couple but I am so goddamn tired of the whole "person who doesn't want children ends up magically changing their mind so they can keep the person they love" nonsense. Can we please stop doing this in 2024??

[dabislittlemouse]

What was the story of you and discovering Dabi?

I discovered him during 2020 quarantine

I ended up on anime tiktok because I got back into anime again, and Dabi literally showed up on my feed so often like?! I had no idea who he even was or why he kept appearing so often (attention whore, he wanted me to be obsessed over him)

And I found his appearance quite unique, I never seen a character looking like him before. The way he looked so nonchalant, so badass, so handsome..

And people kept making edits of him including some hot clips where he looked SO FINEEE so I got really really intrigued

I was like “now who is this fine specimen?! Why do I like him? Why is he invading my mind? He looks like he’ll kill you instantly and spit on your corpse, but in a hot way”

So I watched MHA solely because of Dabi

And boy, I fell HARDER for him the MOMENT he appeared on screen, oh my god I still remember the day when I was watching MHA and he appeared on the screen

I ALSO GOT IT ON PICTURE when I saw him in one of MHA’s openings for the first time.. such memories

[terrestrialnoob]

Gut Feeling

DPXDC

Commissioner Jim Gordon meets an odd kid in the precinct.

--

“Come on, you really don’t have a way to directly contact Batman?”

Jim smiled. Kids came to the station and asked that all the time. Usually, it was just curiosity and showing them the signal was enough to get them to sign up for the Junior Police program. This one looked a little older than most, teenagers were often “too old” to believe in Batman, but again, give them a little faith now and they’ll never loose it.

“Lookin’ for the Bat, kid?” Jim asked, knowing he was about to make this kid’s –

Jim froze. The kid turned to face him and it was Bruce Wayne. Not playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne, but freshly a teenager Bruce Wayne. The Bruce Wayne who Jim had checked in on time and again from age eight until he ran off on a globetrotting trip to find himself. The little Bruce Wayne with too pale skin and dark bags under his eyes, and not enough love to make up for all the grief weighing him down. And he didn’t look like Damian either, where Bruce was obviously his father but there were distinct traits from his mother. This was a carbon copy of a boy Jim remembered vividly.

“I am.” He even sounded like teenage Bruce. All business, like he was on a mission.

“I might be able to help you, but it’ll take a while.” Jim said and the officer the kid had been talking too gave him an odd look. He waved her off and told the kid to follow him to the commissioner’s office. Normally, he’d be more dramatic, put on more of a show for the kid, but his gut told him this was different, this was important. He offered the kid a styrofoam cup of water then closed the door behind him. “So, what do you need to talk to Batman for?”

“It’s personal. I need to talk to him in person.”

Jim took a sip of coffee from his cup. “He doesn’t appreciate me calling for no reason in the middle of the day.”

“So you do have a direct line?” The kid nearly jumped out of his seat. “If he’s upset, it’ll be my fault, just call him, please.”

“Who should I say wants to talk to him?”

The kid hesitated. “He doesn’t know me, but I have to talk to him.”

Jim frowned. “What’s your name, kid?”

He swallowed and looked like he wasn’t going to answer for a moment. “Danny.”

“Danny…?” Jim wanted a last name but Danny kept quiet. Jim sighed, “He’s likely not going to show up until sundown.”

“I can wait, as long as you guarantee he’ll show.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why you need Batman?” Jim just got a glare in response. “What about one of the other heroes?”

“Only Batman, no one else can help.”

“You sure about that? Not even Superman?”

“Not unless Superman can get me in the same room as Batman.”

“Why’s it so important that you meet him in person?”

“It’s personal.”

Jim liked this less and less by the minute. “Do your parents know you’re here?”

Danny looked away but right when it looked like he wouldn’t say anything he mumbled. “They wouldn’t care anyway.”

After another moment to give the kid time to reconsider, Jim pulled out the Bat-phone. It was a normal Wayne-Tech cell phone, but Jim had been given very specific instructions on how and when to use it. The phone listed all the Gotham Vigilantes without visible numbers so they couldn’t be copied and handed out. He pressed the one for Batman.

“Stand outside, would you?” The kid gave him a look, but followed the request. Jim could see his shadow in the door’s window, not so subtle eavesdropping.

It rang a few times, and Jim sat there awkwardly with a teenager listening to his every move. Finally, a familiar voice picked up the other end of the line. “Commissioner Gordon.”

“Sorry to call you out of the blue Batman, but I’ve got a kid here who needs your help.”

“Who?”

“Says his name is Danny, that you’ve never met him but you’re the only one who can help him.”

“Why?”

“Refuses to tell me.”

“What’s your best guess, Commissioner?”

Jim looked at Danny’s shadow, it looked like he was straining his ears to try and hear what he was saying. Danny had given him almost nothing to work with. Just his name, that he’s never met Batman but needs to talk with him in person. But Jim was here because he listened to his gut. A feeling like when you see a random rock on your neighbor’s doorstep but you’d never go in without an invitation. A feeling like you know what’s in the present and are preparing your surprised face. A feeling like when you cheated on your wife and you know she knows.

“He looks like Bruce Wayne.”

A beat of silence. “What?”

“Danny looks exactly like Bruce when he was a teenager. Exactly the same.” Jim hoped Batman would get it, feel in his gut what Jim felt.

“And he wont say why he’s there?”

“No, and he demands to see you in person.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“10-4.” The line cut off before Jim had finished saying it. He called Danny in again. “He’s on his way.”

Danny glared at him. “If he’s not, if you called some social worker or something, you’ll regret it.”

“I’m sure.” Jim sighed and downed the rest of his now cold coffee.

The sun hadn’t set, but only just barely. Jim ended up taking Danny up to the roof in the end after all, if only to save his window from being broken into. The kid had a red hoodie on, but he was still shivering in the autumn chill and it was just going to get colder by the minute as the sun made its way behind the horizon.

Jim checked his watch and, at exactly an hour from when he called, he acted surprised when Batman and Robin appeared out of nowhere. “Bats.”

“Commissioner.” Batman greeted but his eyes went straight for Danny. “Danny, I assume.”

“Yeah, I…” Danny hesitated, looking at Jim and Robin.

All it took was four words from Batman. “What do you need?”

The kid held out his hand with a flash drive in it. “I’m your clone. My par- The people who made me wanted to make a stronger version of you, but they got ahead of themselves. My DNA is degrading and I’ll die if I don’t get your DNA to stabilize me.”

Holy cow.

“You don’t expect us to believe that, do you?” Robin sneered at him.

“The flash drive has all the info on it. All the data about the cloning process and the, uh, relevant experiments after that.” Batman gave the kid a look. “I didn’t want to waste time on unnecessary data.”

“If what you’re saying is true, why are you here, alone? Are they working on a different solution?”

Danny’s shoulders hiked up. “I’ve been a failure for a while now, I’m not worth the resources and they’d learn more from an autopsy.”

Oof, kid. Jim looked at Batman who seemed to feel the same… if Jim was reading him right.

“So, you wont object to a DNA test?” Robin asked with a cocky head tilt, at least he was relatively easy to read.

“You can try.” Danny said, and then realized what that sounded like. “I mean I wont stop you, but my DNA degrades faster outside my body. You’ll have to take me to whatever lab you plan on using.”

“Then we will.” Batman said and jerked his head towards where they’d probably parked that ridiculous car of his. But then he looked at Jim with a nod. “Commissioner.”

“Batman.” Jim returned the nod. “You’ll tell me how things turn out, yeah?”

“I’ll give you a report.” Batman joked – Jim could tell, it was gut feeling.

[zxnin]

i like how I met one of my friends + fav person atm bc he asked for my math homework almost everyday despite literally not knowing my name

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Sometimes I feel like us as the bat family fandom forget how starry eyed people get about Nightwing canonically.

Because with the exception of early era Tim most of the Batkids are like. lol that’s my loser older brother or some variation of yeah…he’s some guy I guess? He helps me with homework?

And Nightwing is the canonically a center of multiversal light.

When Heroes meet Nightwing they do the vigorous handshake and the “it’s an honor to meet you sir, I have heard so much about you oh my god”

There are so many character where they are literally shown giggling and kicking their feet whenever Nightwing talks to them.

Even the people who don’t have the celebrity level worship of him respect the hell out of him and call him as soon as they need help.

From raven to Starfire to Superman to Superboy to all or the flashes there is so much respect and awe given to this one dude.

And it is deserved

But imagine you are Damian Wayne and you’ve been working with what 90% of the people you’ve met (all bats) have been calling an embarrassment to your father’s legacy.

Your mother hates him and your Grandfather doesn’t feel that strongly about him.

The red hood calls him an embarrassment and a coward and he couldn’t even keep Red Robin from running away.

Your father tells him that he never should have been Batman

And you’ve worked with him and you know what you think everyone is full of shit about him and you and him the new Batman and Robin are the best no matter what anyone says.

And fuck it the fact he keeps going in a suit that everyone tells him he’s not good enough for is scratching something in your brain that you’re refusing to acknowledge because why would you feel that way? You are the circus freak have nothing in common (shut up)

And then you meet the justice league and all the extended teams.

And people are falling over themselves to listen to a word out of your brothers, your Batman’s mouth. They wait for a nod or headshake and dictate decades worth of planning on it.

Both Drake and Todd’s hero teams ask him for advice with or without their designated bats presence.

The man of steel asks for child rearing advice and wonder woman cracks a joke about a spar

Newer heroes whisper about him in the halls

He’s literally your favorite hero’s favorite hero

And it’s breaking Damian’s Brain

Because well… he kinda gets slapped around in Gotham. He’s the butt of half the jokes the other Batkids make and Dick just smiles and takes it.

The rogues have a bounty on nightwings ass and he gets leered at by goons, rogues, civilians and anti-hero’s alike and he doesn’t say anything.

He lets oracle crack jokes about a pretty face and having to do everything herself

Let’s Jason run the alley despite the fact that apparently he knows how to take it back

Apparently he’s had 12 people tailing Drake since Paris and despite being the man Ra’s Al Ghul calls detective has yet to notice. (Because you can’t tell me Dick was just magically at the right place to catch Tim falling to his death on coincidence)

And necessary to peace talks because he’s the best they have at deescalation

Like imagine you are a child who was raised to believe power is this obvious, all consuming thing. That the ones who control the board are visibly larger than life figures who fought their way to the top and cling to power by even the thinnest hangnail if they had to.

People who ignore simpler morals or an overall greater goal or good

And then you’re taken in by the man who whispers the correct answers into the larger than life figures ear.

Like I feel like that would have such an impact because Dick didn’t take power from anyone to reach his goals, it’s why his siblings don’t really defer to him unless in crisis.

Dick didn’t take power, no people just looked at him and decided he was the best option to give it to.

Everyone basically looked at this kid and went, yeah you’re the future of all heroism.

And if that dude can’t even get Bruce Wayne’s respect what chance does Damian Wayne have

[gyudons]

despicable

updates as of 22 oct

Travis Dermott knew that he would draw attention with his actions in the Coyotes’ home opener against the Anaheim Ducks at Mullett Arena on Saturday. The Arizona defenseman just hoped that the spotlight might shine on the issue that he was addressing, not on him.

“You don’t really want to go against rules that are put in place by your employer, but there’s some people who took some positive things from it,” Dermott said. “That’s kind of what I’m looking to impact.

“You want to have everyone feel included and that’s something that I have felt passionate about for a long time in my career. It’s not like I just just jumped on this train. It’s something that I’ve felt has been lacking in the hockey community for a while. I feel like we need supporters of a movement like this; to have everyone feel included and really to beat home the idea that hockey is for everyone.”

“I won’t lie,” said Dermott, who is playing on a one-year, two-way contract. “From the outside, it’s easy to see that I’m putting my career on the line for something. I definitely went through some emotional ups and downs that night, not regretting anything by any means, but I’d love to have maybe done a couple of steps a little different by making sure that everyone was aware of what was going on before I did it.

“I don’t want to put my teammates or my coaches or my GMs or the equipment managers in any kind of bad light when it’s their job to kind of look out for something like this happening. It was definitely something that I did just by myself and was prepared to kind of deal with whatever repercussions the league decides to push towards that. I’m not going to back off and say that this battle is won, but we’re going to find better ways to do it.”

As Dermott noted, LGBTQ+ inclusion is an issue that he has supported for a long time. Without getting into specifics, Dermott said the issue is personal for him because it impacts people close to him.

“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t shed tears about this on multiple occasions,” he said. “So yeah, it’s something I’m definitely very passionate about.

“I’ve met a lot of people that from the outside, it looks like they have everything going right in their life and they have a smile on their face every time they talk to you. But sometimes when we get closer to people and get comfortable enough for them to open up to you, you can see that there’s some pretty dark stuff happening to some good people. It doesn’t take too many times encountering something like that for it to really change someone.

“I’ve been blessed to have some of those opportunities put in front of me to really change my view of what being a good person means; what being a good father and a good example and role model means going forward. You really see how people are hurting and it’s because of a system that maybe no one’s intentionally trying to be malicious about, but until you’ve really had that first-person experience seeing people hurting from it right in front of you, it’s tough to kind of take steps.”

It would be a surprise if the league handed down any sort of punishment. The optics alone would add to the public relations damage that the original ban created. Even so, Dermott reiterated his desire to bring the entire franchise into the fold before he takes similar actions in the future, but he also made it clear that he will not be silenced on the topic.

“It’s not like I’m shutting up and going away,” he said. “I know more questions are going to be coming. We’re just going to be as prepared as we can be to just spread love. That’s the thing. It’s gay pride that we’re talking about, but it could be men’s health. It could be any war. It’s just wanting world peace. Everyone’s got to love each other a little bit more.

“Like my parents said growing up, ‘How awesome would it be to be the guy that people look up to?’ That’s what really hit home when I was a kid, especially from my mom. You want to grow up and be that guy. You want to be the guy that’s having the impact on kids like NHL players had on you. If they had been racist or bigoted, that’s going to have an effect on you.

“With how many eyes are on us, especially with the young kids coming up in the new generation, you want to put as much positive love into their brain as you can. You want them to see that it’s not just being taught or coming from maybe their parents at home. They need to see it in the public eye for it to really make an effect.”

[riverthebooknerd]

me: la de da, i'm having such a nice day-

my brain: you're now the same age as your mom when she married your dad

me: huh. yeah, i am 18-

my brain: your dad was 27.

[rieamena]

"mama!"

your seven year old daughter climbed onto your bed, bouncing on the mattress before settling into your warm embrace under the blankets. running a hand through her pink hair, you answered softly, "yes, sweetheart?"

it was almost like your genes didn't put up a fight at all. your child, chikara, was the spitting image of her father, your husband, ryomen sukuna. same hair, same face shape, same facial features, the only thing that seemed to be your contribution was her personality, and even then, sometimes you'll see your husband's characteristic scowl on her little face

"how did you and daddy meet?" "well, it was–"

"what's goin' on in here? conspiring against me?" sukuna's voice filled the room as he leaned against the door frame, a cheeky smirk on his face. you saw your daughter's face brighten up as she jumped down to run to her father, "daddy! daddy! mommy's gonna tell the story of when you first met!" sukuna immediately looked at you, his index finger barely being fully wrapped by his daughter's hand

"she asked me to. guess watching all those romantic dramas with her rubbed off on her." you giggled, earning a scowl from him. "shut it woman. you know i hate them." "yeah..., that's definitely why we watch 90 day fiance every sunday together." "you got a problem with— stop tryna move me brat!"

"but daddyyyyy," she whined, still pushing against sukuna's body, "i don't wanna miss mommy's story!" "we're literally seven feet away from her."

your daughter pouted and stopped trying to get her dad to move. letting go of his finger, and leaving him at the doorway, chikara plopped herself down at your side with wide, eager eyes, "go on, mommy, tell me! i wanna know everything."

you smiled, looking at sukuna, who rolled his eyes but gave a small nod. "alright, sweetheart. it all started one day in the park when i was watching over megumi, and your dad was taking care of his younger brother, yuuji…"

"yuuji?" chikara interrupted, her face lighting up. "uncle yuuji was there too?"

"yep, yuuji was just a little kid back then," you said with a soft laugh. "he was running around, being his usual energetic self, when he tripped and scraped his knee. your dad, being the great caretaker he is—"

"—i was plenty good at it," sukuna muttered

you shot him a look and continued, "—didn't seem too worried. he told yuuji to stop crying."

"i did not say it like that," sukuna cut in, pushing off the doorframe and coming closer to the bed. "i told him to toughen up. gotta learn how to handle a few scrapes."

your daughter giggled, clearly entertained by the back-and-forth. "but mommy's a nurse, so she went over to help, right?"

"exactly. i couldn't just sit there watching, so i went over, knelt down, and started cleaning yuuji's knee. and i told your father—" you paused, giving sukuna a mischievous smile, "—that he should care more about his son instead of telling him to stop crying."

your daughter gasped dramatically, eyes wide with anticipation. sukuna groaned, running a hand over his face. "i knew you'd bring that up."

"and what did daddy say?" she asked, leaning in as if she could hardly wait

"he looked at me and said, 'that's not my son, that's my brother,'" you mimicked sukuna’s low, irritated tone. "i was so embarrassed!" sukuna chuckled at the memory, shaking his head. "you should've seen your mom’s face. all high and mighty, like she was about to call child protection services on me or something."

you couldn't help but laugh, too. "anyway, i patched yuuji up, and to make up for the misunderstanding, your dad suggested we set up a playdate for yuuji and megumi."

"a playdate?"

"yup," you nodded. "though i think your dad might've had other reasons for giving me his number." sukuna scoffed, folding his arms. "that didn’t happen."

you raised an eyebrow at him. "oh? so your eyes didn’t sparkle when i smiled and told you goodbye?" sukuna groaned again, this time louder. "my eyes did not do that."

chikara giggled harder, clearly enjoying the banter. "i think daddy liked you right away!" you smiled softly. "maybe he did. i mean, why else would he take me to a skate park for our first date?" sukuna rolled his eyes. "you said you wanted to learn how to skate. i was just being nice."

"uh-huh. sure," you teased. "and he was so good at it, zooming around, showing off. i'll admit..., he did look kinda cool! i, on the other hand, spent most of the time falling."

"which is why i had to keep catching you," sukuna added, sliding into the empty space next to you on the bed. "mommy fell? did daddy save you?" chikara asked, her face lighting up at the idea

sukuna ruffled her pink hair. "more like i had to stop her from breaking every bone in her body." you rolled your eyes at him. "i wasn't that bad."

"yes, you were," sukuna said, smirking. "you almost took me down with you half the time." smiling at the memory, you leaned in to kiss your daughter's forehead. "but it was fun. and after that, we went out for ice cream, and your dad actually smiled for real that time."

"daddy smiled? really?"

sukuna shot you a half-hearted glare. "i smile."

"not back then you didn't," you teased, poking his arm. chikara turned to her dad, beaming. "i wanna learn to skate, too, just like you and mommy!" sukuna chuckled, wrapping an arm around her

"maybe one day, brat. but you’re probably gonna fall as much as your mom did."

"hey!"

gulp... sorry if sukuna is ooc, im tired and im on my period but i really liked this request so...

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@1ndee @yourhornysister @ancientimes @cupcaketeddybehr @tomikixd

@e-dollly

[the-cooler-king]

Sometimes I'm not sure if I hit or miss with my not-boyfriend, and every single time he'll respond to me in such a way that I know EXACTLY what to say then and he is baffled by my ability to do this