#booby trap bomb

[womaninwinter]

Lockwood in the climax of practically every book: the odds against us are all but overwhelming. Fortunately we have a secret weapon!

Lucy: love?

Lockwood: no!! explosives

[clonerightsagenda]

She remains remarkably composed for the most part but Holly Munro is really going through it tbh. Imagine: you are 18 and your boss is a 15 year old. You have a minor crush on one of your coworkers who hates you because she sees you as a threat to her crush. (He is a boy. You are a lesbian.) The two of you have such a bad fight it destroys a building and then she quits and everyone, including your boss, thinks it's because of you. Then she comes back and you try to bury the hatchet while sharing a hotel room and she reveals she's been enacting a horsegirl movie with an undead graverobbing cultist and fondly reminisces over how he'd encourage her to kill you with various kitchen implements. Over the span of a year you blow up a research facility, rob a grave, fight a crime ring, and take a day trip to hell. You were hired to be an admin assistant.

(Joking tone aside, she's vague about why she left her last job beyond that her boss was "disgusting" and "didn't treat his employees well", but given that she was a young woman who'd just turned 18 working as a secretary for a powerful older man, I wouldn't be surprised if he was acting inappropriately, which would make it even more galling for Lucy to immediately get her hackles up. The last thing Holly wants is special attention from her male boss. I hope she enjoyed blowing up Rotwell's laboratory.)

[snowyfrostshadows]

Managed to fit one more doodle in the little bitty space left on the page from yesterday

Drew Master M and Dimentio interacting cuz honestly. What else am I going to draw at this point? Fic doodles that spoil future plans?

Naaah. Goofy clown on clown shenanigans only.

[confused-wanderer]

It would be hilarious if villains loved Nightwing and were terrified of Officer Dick Grayson.

Dick Grayson- who is used to open spaces and adrenaline- being stuck in a boring bleak office, surviving on shots of coffee and red bull with caffeine that would make Tim concerned.

The thugs soon realised that unlike most of the other cops - Dick was from Gotham.

No one fucks with Gothamites.

Villain *shooting at Dick with machine guns*

Dick *appearing from the shadows behind him*: Boo.

Villain: THIS IS A FIVE STOREY BUILDING HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET HERE

Or

Thief *throwing a counting down bomb at Dick*

Dick: *catching and tossing the bomb at a safe distance before turning round and shooting it so it explodes mid air while running after thief*

Thief: .. what the actual fuck

Dick: Gee look at all that time you had! Shame you threw it away :D

Thief:

Dick: I’m from Gotham

Thief *realising they fucked up* : Please don’t steal my bones

OR

Shooter: *sets elaborate booby traps throughout the houses in an active hostage situation*

Dick *using his training as robin and inhuman flexibility to surpass them with ease*: Ah been a while since I got to have a nice stretch thank you.

Shooter:

Dick:

Shooter:

Dick: .. Hi :)

Shooter: Are you Satan?

AND

In interrogation room

Murderer: I think I’ll take your eyes and add them to my collection

Dick *running on spite and caffeine that could give Superman a sugar rush* : Funny.. I was going to say the same thing to you

Murderer: .. what

Dick: I wouldn’t take your eyes though.. they look like the inspiration behind the whole Medusa’s “look at it and you turn to stone” thing-

Murderer: Hey! Take that back before I gut you

Dick *smile stretching wider without blinking* : oh? Or what? I know everything about you. Who says I can’t kill you and walk out with everyone being none the wiser? I know how to kill someone too..you aren’t special.

Murderer:

Murderer: I’m scared for my safety.

Because the thing is, Nightwing is who Dick really is. It’s who he can be free as, be himself as without red tapes and regulations. Where he can give as good as he gets, and he’s kind and empathetic. He gets to help the downtrodden and goes easy on most of them if they give up right away, not to mention the fact that he never causes permanent damage.

But officer Dick Grayson is a different story. He runs on sleepless nights and no self preservation. Seeing an officer with an uncanny skill set they’re scarily good at, not to mention the cheery attitude he always has scares the shit out of criminals. Cuz no way in hell is a smiling Gothamite not a deranged one. He chases crimes like a bloodhound, and isn’t afraid to make good on threats he makes to ensure they never hurt anyone again.

Bonus if the batfam doesn’t know about this.

Red hood: Shit I can’t believe we ended up in Bludhaven

Red Robin *tying up the corrupt politican* : Since this is a sensitive case, we need someone we can trust to make sure it is seen through.

Red hood: .. So we paying a visit to Officer Grayson?

Politician *screeching* : NO NO NO NO! PLEASE NOT HIM!! JUST KILL ME INSTEAD AND TAKE ALL MY MONEY I CANT DEAL WITH HIM!

Red hood: .. is he fucking serious?

Henchmen: Sir he is. And we agree. Please take our bones and kill us but don’t take us to Officer Grayson.

Red Robin: Wait what did he do?

Henchman 1: He asked boss if the hat was sentient.. and said that if it was would it make that hat the top and boss the bottom.

Henchman 2: Last time we met I tried to shoot him but suddenly my gun was blank and he raised his hand and let the ammo drop

Red Hood: Well even I could do that-

Henchman 2: They were my bullets. I had selected the colour personally.

Red robin *growing concerned*

Henchman 3: He sang a lullaby to a child when we were holding the station hostage, and replaced the people with my family members. He even sang their social security numbers!

Henchman 4: He’s the most dangerous of them all. I ain’t shitting ya when I say he’s as scary as the bat from Gotham.

*all nodding in agreement*

Red hood:

Red Robin:

Red hood: Nah that doesn’t sound like Dick

Red Robin: Agreed. Let’s go there Hood.

*villains’ sobbing intensifies*

[goodjohnjr]

A Hotel Incident | A Tripwire | JB's Room

File:Trip-wire pipe bomb.jpg Dream 1 I forgot some parts of this dream because I woke up, and I accidentally went back to sleep several times before finally recording it. In this dream, most of my family, some of my coworkers, some other people, and I were at a hotel. My brothers were kids again, it was evening or night, and some of us were talking inside a hotel room while some others were…

[athena5898]

NORTH GAZA — Special sources for Al-Mayadeen:

The isolation, siege and starvation in North Gaza governorate is the most severe and dangerous since the beginning of the war.

The occupation relies on armored and heavy engineering weapons to carry out the isolation with a large force from the 401st and 460th brigades.

The occupation uses M113 vehicles in the form of booby-trapped robots to open roads for its forces.

The occupation started blocking aid to North Gaza since the beginning of this month.

The occupation bombed places where attempts are being made to produce diesel fuel in limited quantities for hospitals and bakeries.

Citizens in their homes and shelters are experiencing unprecedented starvation and terror with their children.

The occupation “army” is using its military tools in a concentrated and intensive manner in its siege and targeting of the northern Gaza Strip.

[sayruq]

After the withdrawal of over 25,000 troops from northern Gaza, the Palestinian Resistance, which had been giving the IDF hell in that region (hence the withdrawal), focused their attention on central and southern Gaza. The past few days however, they've intensified their operations in the north again, tricking the IDF into becoming complacent. This, as usual, undermines the claims by the Israeli government of controlling the north.

The bigger problem facing the Israeli government is that Hamas has started to re-establish civil services in the north including policing and distributing aid services.

Here's an Israeli analyst almost realising what that means

It means the IDF lost in the north and will lose in central and southern Gaza as well.

It won't be long before the rest of the country also realises what this means though like this analyst they'll blame Israel withdrawing too early and not the fact that the IDF failed to defeat the Resistance. The Palestinians are moving like a well oiled war machine right now, sending rockets into the Occupied Territories while taking out tanks, ambushing Israeli soldiers and booby trapping tunnels. They simply can't be beat, not by the IDF at least.

Eventually, the IDF will have to release accurate casualty numbers and Israelis will understand that their army lost against Palestine despite dropping thousands of bombs and killing over 24,000 civilians. What that does to Israeli society will be interesting to see.

[psychokatrixxxy]

The batfam watches the first two Home Alone movies for "family bonding" as Bruce calls it. Bruce comes to greatly regret this decision when his children take it as a challenge to set up booby traps throughout the manor to see who 1) makes the most interesting trap and 2) how gets the most victims to fall into their traps.

I think that Damian would take it as an opportunity to prove his superiority as the blood son, very serious about it.

Jason would be disappointed after Alfred banned him from using anything that would cause too much damage to the manor or victim. "No, Master Jason. You may not place a bomb in the manor, no matter how weak you claim it to be."

Jason also puts his traps in places he is sure Bruce will fall victim to them.

Dick makes a few traps but not as many as his siblings. He flips over his siblings' traps and manages to avoid most of them.

Tim and Jason form an alliance to get Dick after he managed to make them fall into their own traps.

Bruce is happy his kids are "getting along," even if the manor gets a little messed up along the way. (Alfred makes them all clean up their mess.)

Bonus points if some idiot actually tries to break into Wayne manor and gets caught up in the mess.

Overall message, don't show the batfam Home Alone, they will take it as a challenge.

[natalievoncatte]

4. Garden

Kara waited as long as she could. Taking to the air, she lifted herself to cloud-height, ignoring the bite of the upper-atmospheric chill as the high winds snapped at her cape. Hovering in the air, she took a moment to unbind her senses, expanding her awareness to let in the cacophony of sounds she usually suppressed through years of focused willpower and concentration.

She rocked in the air, shocked by the sensitivity of her own ears. Jeremiah and then Eliza had taught her this, made the world in its vastness small enough that she could live in it.

Clark had taught her to reach out, to hear, as well as see and smell and taste and feel, beyond. Sol’s gentle kiss did more than expand her awareness and multiply her strength, it activated pathways in her brain itself, giving her a control over her senses that she could never match under a red star.

It took only moments to sift out the quiet sounds of Lena’s pulse and her gentle, hissing breaths as she fought back sobs.

Air folded around her as she shatters the sound barrier, flying high enough that the boom that followed her would be a mere puff to the ground. Another trick she picked up from Clark, using the earth’s rotation to speed her flight.

Kara touched down at a familiar but foreboding place: the Luthor estate.

All that had been the property of her family was hers now, a gift and a curse. Lena had talked about making it an orphanage or a long-term care hospital or a new children’s medical campus, but the building itself had held her back. What malevolent secrets had Lex left behind? Booby traps? Sentinel robots hiding in the walls? Caches of weapons or Lexosuits?

A Kryptonite bomb, to spit death at her for hate’s sake?

Kara hesitated, but Lena was here and upset. She went inside.

It was immediately obvious where Lex had reinforced walls and lined rooms with lead. Kara listened for Lena, finding that the trail of sound led her outside.

She had to use her x-ray vision.

Lena was kneeling in an hidden place, a walled off section of the formal gardens. Kara found the entrance cleverly disguised, a section of wall where one slipped through a gap and turned left then right and came out in a tiny, overgrown courtyard.

Kneeling, Lena was surrounded by pruning shears and garden implements, dressed to work outside. She looked so out of place it was almost a little silly to see, but there she was.

Kara could see that Lena had already been working on cleaning and clearing. She knelt before a small plumeria plant, resting in a well kept pot.

“Lex let it all die,” said Lena. “He knew it was here. He could have kept it for me, but he didn’t. I suppose I’m lucky that Lillian didn’t rip it up and install a septic tank.”

Kara walked over, standing next to her.

“My father built this. It’s a replica of my mother’s garden. We had a little walled garden next to the cottage where I lived with her before I came to live with the Luthors.”

Kara said nothing, instead brushing a lock of Lena’s now-curly hair back from her shoulder.

“He never showed it to me.”

“Why?”

“My parentage was his dirtiest secret. Lillian didn’t even tell me until she thought she could use it.”

“Do you think he loved her?”

“I have no idea. He loved me, I think. He loved Lex but in a different way. I don’t think he even liked Lillian.”

“You’ve never told me about him.”

“It wasn’t easy being his child. He drank too much, neglected the company, and drank more when things went badly for us. The family was actually in trouble until Lex turned it around. He started managing things when I was in grade school. By the end, he’d spend all day in his study and I’d spend half the night sitting with him while he talked and told me stories. Lillian hated him for it.”

“You miss him.”

“I miss them both. I miss Lex. I miss him so much. I mourn him every day.”

“I know,” said Kara.

“My mom died, my father died, my brother went insane.”

“Lena…”

“Is it me?”

“It’s not, you know it’s not.”

“Is it my witch blood? Am I cursed?”

Kara knelt beside her, pulling her cape across Lena’s shoulders to fight the autumn chill. Lena leaned into her.

“What if it is a curse? What if it gets our little one too?”

Kara put her hand on Lena’s belly, spreading her fingers. There was no bump yet. Kara listened intently, eagerly awaiting a moment she would never forget, when a second heartbeat joined Lena’s. It hadn’t come yet but it would.

“Nothing is going to get our baby,” said Kara. “Their moms are Supergirl and Lena Luthor. We can do anything.”

“It’s going to be a children’s hospital,” said Lena. “The house. A lot of the grounds are going to be torn out, but I’m keeping this garden. I’m going to give my mom a memorial. I think I might put one in for my dad, too.”

“I love you,” Kara murmured. “I love you so much.”

Lena leaned into her and Kara sat down to pull her in.

They sat for a long time, and listened to the wind that shook the leaves.

[lakesbian]

item one: during the fight with bakuda, bakuda detonates a bomb that melts a hostage of hers into Flesh Goop. alec says the guy being melted into Flesh Goop "...was pretty cool." he is clearly making this statement for the purposes of a. getting bakuda to preen and monologue (thus prolonging the time until she decides to explode the undersiders) and b. trying to get bakuda to let him near the Flesh Gooped body (presumably so he could grab the gun the hostage had been holding while still alive and ungooped). nonetheless, the statement is genuine, which is the only reason why it actually works for getting her to monologue

item two: after taylor knocks lung out a second time, she calls tattletale's phone to ask tattletale to confirm that lung will regenerate any missing body parts before she pries his eyeballs out. alec answers instead, and ignores taylor's code yellow to immediately say "You wouldn’t believe it. We found one of Bakuda’s workshops. The stuff she has here is crazy." when taylor says that she needs to talk to tattletale, he tells her that "She’s checking the place for booby traps. Distractions probably aren’t a good idea." this implies that lisa felt she needed to be so careful while checking for traps that she couldn't even risk keeping her phone on her and being startled by a ringtone or distracted by a call, hence why it was alec's job to hold her phone and act as her secretary.

item three: "crazy" is at least one or two steps up in magnitude from "pretty cool," as far as descriptions of how interesting something is go. it can thus be assumed that whatever was in the workshop was severely more alarming than watching a guy get melted into Flesh Goop

conclusion: i like to imagine that whatever they found in bakuda's workshop was absolutely batshit fucking nightmare-inducing insane and lisa was literally having a more stressful day than taylor doing 5000 calculations per second to keep everyone from blowing up forever while alec stood in a corner and did a very polite job of not touching anything

[five-one-two-station]

In the spirit of the meme, I must point out that, no, for real, Jinx actually is also a war criminal.

Specifically she commits about 98 flavors of Perfidy - a war crime broadly covering the abuse of civilian or casualty protections to stage attacks - by using a feigned civilian casualty to lure enemy combatants into a booby trap.

Perfidy was established as a war crime because if you do stuff like feign a surrender, pretend to be a doctor, or booby trap casualties in order to kill enemy personnel, you're endangering real doctors, real surrendering troops, and real casualties in the future, by undermining all the moral and ethical protections they're supposed to have.

Put simply, teaching enemy troops that a child in a fire who needs aid might actually be a bomb just means that the next child in a fire who needs aid will simply burn.

I love Jinx, but I do think it's worth bearing in mind that she wouldn't be besties with the ol' Geneva Convention if you applied it to her either.

[lostintransist]

Sacrifice Doesn’t Hurt Less if They Don’t Love You

I can't decide if I want to write a whole fic for this chapter that spawned fully formed in my head but a mutual told me I could post it here.

Context. Soap and Ghost are lovers. They are both wanting to work through some issues and ask reader (female pronouns) to become their third for a time. Reader was unsure about joining a thruple, so they offer to pay her. Reader is a soldier and works with the 141.

CW: Mentions of onpage violence, can be read as suicidal ideation, self sacrifice.

Watching Soap and Ghost share a look of goodbyes with only their eyes cements for you the knowing, deeper than your bones, that no one will ever love you like they love each other. No room exists for you to shelter inside of their love. The pain is freeing somehow. Like every message pounded into your head about being unlovable was true.

The call of the void had abated for a time, since they paid you for your body. The urge to jump without pulling your shoot, to kink the hose to your oxygen lessened. It returned now. It didn’t call though, it sang. Staring into the horizon where blue became intangible you know that even if you listened to the haunting call if you go home today an ‘accident’ would befall you soon enough.

A hand on your thigh pulls you back from the discordant notes. You look from the hand to the face and see Price looking at you, concern in the crinkles around his eyes.

“You with us Everest?”

“Sorry Cap. Just mentally gearing up.”

He nodded, accepting the strange behavior and the explanation. He had used the shared channel everyone could listen in on over the headphones. Helicopters were not the place for private conversations.

Feeling Ghost’s eyes you turn. Looking at one eye and then the other you find nothing but the mask inside and out. The horizon draws your attention again as you listen to the symphony from within the void.

Price had organized groups of three before everyone piled into the helicopter. You had been assigned to Soap and Ghost. As the ghost ship came into sight you slipped into your operator role. Rearguard would be you duty. They trusted you to step backwards over the dodgy doorways and ensure no one attacked them from behind. A place of trust.

Everyone knew the mission. Locate and terminate the computer that would signal a series of bombs dotting major cities. It would be highly guarded and most likely booby trapped. Six teams split as they enter the darkness of the ship. It creaks with each bob of the waves and every step as if she is moments from careening into the depths to become a home for the deep dwelling fish.

Soap takes the lead, heading aft. None of you encounter resistance until six levels down. Movement from barely beyond your vision as you step down another set of ladders. You fire off two shots, a body falling into the light. Not one of yours. A hand on you shoulder is the warning you get before Ghost and Soap step over the body, heading deeper into the darkness.

Smaller stature is not often an advantage in your line of work. But tiny halls become your safe haven because you are not an overly large man.

Moving before your mind can process you are grappling for a knife that connected with your vest. A man had stepped from the deepest shadows and swung at you after the guys had stepped through the next porthole. He pulled back and swung downwards, aiming for your neck. Leaning back you caught only a nick from the blade along the crease where jaw meets neck. Because all wide swings must be returned by an equally wide swing you step in and jam both hands into his forearm.

The enemy fights his arm up, your upper body strength no match for his. Instead of fighting him in a losing battle you place one boot on the wall behind you, leveraging your best asset in the fight.

It impressed the men on the 141 that you could match or often beat them in dead lift squats. They did make fun of you for how low your numbers were on upper body though so it all came out in the wash.

The man brought his second arm up to support his knife wielding hand, the tip of the blade inching closer to your face. Forcing your second boot up the wall you press with all the power your foremothers blessed you with. The light bouncing around from your rifle shines off whites of the mans eyes as you shove the blade into his windpipe. He slumps as his life flees.

Gravity takes hold of you now that friction has abated and you slam to the ground with a grunt. Your knee took the bulk of the blow. Up on your feet you limp after your lovers. They must have circled back to find you since you find them only three rooms away.

“What happened Everest?” Ghost barks at you.

“Your job is to protect each other, my job is to protect you. I did my job.” You snap at him. He would want to take it from your hide if there was a later. On jobs he was your superior and sass could not be accepted.

Soap reached around him and lifted blood from your collar.

“We are here to protect you too Ev.”

The sweetest blade to your heart came from Soap’s tongue. Lies, because if they were here to protect you they would have noticed sooner that you were gone.

His finger hovers as you turn your head slightly away from his touch.

“We’ve got more ground to cover. Let’s go.” Voice harsh, you focus on limping forward.

Several more engagements occur, but the guys don’t leave your sight once. After clearing a particularly well guarded tiny red room you find what you have been looking for. Soap drops to a knee at the computer, typing away.

You and Ghost take up opposite positions staring down the hallways watching the darkness.

“Why didn’t you call for help?”

Ghost’s even tone hits like a lash across your back.

“Didn’t really have time with a blade at my throat.”

“Why are you mad at us?”

Even now the distinction between your place and theirs is hammered home in the phrasing of the question. Us denotes a you, an outsider.

“Now is not the time to unpack our relationship problems, Simon.”

“I’m getting no response from the computer and I don’t dare move it. This group really loves their bombs to trigger when people touch things.”

A head poking around the walls you to fire off a few rounds.

“I’m jammed, Soap replace me. I can work on disabling the computer.” You step into the small, red, red box trading places with Soap who steps into the hall, gun drawn on the shadows.

The instant his heel passes beyond the door frame you swing the heavy metal door shut, slamming the bar into place. Faraday cages are interesting things. They can be made by accident, or opportunity.

You couldn’t disable the computer you had fought so hard to get to the bowels of the ship, but you could stop it from sending a signal. As the bar clanged down, the bell tolling of your death, two irate faces appeared in the small window. Two men you love more than any reasonable person could understand stare at you, yell at you, beat at the door demanding entrance.

A beep from the computer tells you there is four minutes left until the signal is sent. Your lip trembles. Mouthing the words so carefully they can understand even beyond the slightly distorted glass you give your final goodbyes.

‘Love you.’

Blowing a shaky kiss to their horrified faces you slide the cover in place, sealing your tomb.

The void’s lilting tune is sweet in your ears. The pounding on the door stops. No sounds squawk from the radio in your ear, your play worked. They would be safe. They didn’t need you anyways, a matched pair didn’t need a third.

With nothing left to do but breathe in the last of your oxygen you decided to strip down to your uniform. Emptying every weapon on you of its rounds you place them gently on the floor a fair distance from the door. No need for them to get stepped on when someone can finally reach your body. Next goes the holsters and the heavy tactical gear.

It’s getting harder to breath now, your lungs heaving for a breath more. You sound like a baby you once saw with RSV. You place a hand to your ribs, finding the flesh pulling between the bones with each breath. Laying down seems the best option now. Your mind feels pulled, stretched. Taffy for brains. Stretching out you get comfortable. With your eyes fluttering you can almost imagine yourself on a cot somewhere in the tropics.

Distantly a beeping starts, the thirty second countdown. One long beep reaches through the fog of oxygen deprivation, you strain your ears. Even in the bowels of the ocean you would have heard something, shouting, if you had failed. When none occur you sigh and surrender to the darkness.

You might not have been important to them. They might have never loved you. But god dammit you were going to be remembered.

I also write COD over on AO3, same handle.

Masterlist

[sidewalk-cracks]

In the wake of hearing that DC is making a Dick Grayson and Jason Todd movie and that they're supposedly gonna be screwing up Dick and Jason's backstories, I started thinking about what kind of Nightwing & Red Hood movie I would want to see, in addition to what kind of batfam movies in general I would want to see. I offer for consideration:

Nightwing and Red Hood: Last Defenders. While on patrol, Nightwing stumbles upon the hints of a truly diabolical plot taking shape to topple not just Gotham, but possibly the entire planet while the majority of Earth's heroes are presently indisposed, including most of the batfam. Batman and most of the JL are off world, the Titans are tied up, even Alfred's away, etc- leaving Nightwing and Red Hood as the only two people left to defend Gotham. This is set in a world sometime after UtRH; Jason's identity has been revealed, and he has an uneasy truce settled with the Bats ("you don't bother me, I don't bother you"). The movie follows them through their journey as Dick tries to convince Jason to work with him, they narrowly escape lots of explosions, and argue about Dick's failings as a brother and everything Jason has done since coming back. It all culminates in an epic 2v1 battle with the Big Bad and resolves with them saving the day and coming to an emotional understanding- a hopeful ending, looking towards a future in which Jason might be able to improve his standing with the Bats. BONUS END CREDITS SCENE: Bruce arrives home to a quiet manor. He goes to the kitchen and makes some tea. Goes to the den, and draws up short in the doorway. Dick and Jason are sprawled across the couch, half on top of each other, dead asleep. The credits of a movie are scrolling on the TV. Bruce buffers for a moment, before smiling and deftly whipping out his phone and snapping several pictures. Then he turns off the TV, drapes a blanket over them, and kisses both of them on the forehead.

The Waynes in: Mission Impossible. Bruce and his sons must attend the fancy gala of Evil Rich Man, and foil his diabolical supervillain plot while undercover as the Wayne family. Ideally, without ruining the gala. (Spoiler: they ruin the gala). This is firmly an action comedy, with maybe some sprinkles of family angst thrown in. Otherwise, though, this movie includes a gratuitous amount of puns, the Wayne Men in really sharp tuxes, Jason blowing up several things, Tim and Bruce holding the only braincells in the operation, Jason losing his suit jacket and tie 5 minutes into the gala, and Bruce being Tired. At a later point in the mission they need a distraction, and without hesitation Damian whips around and punches Tim in the face. They proceed to have a very loud and explosive fistfight. Tim YEETS Damian into the dessert table. Bruce groans into his hands.

The Battle of Wayne Manor. Dick, Jason, and Alfred are the only ones home to defend the Manor against a dangerous team of superhuman home invaders, Home Alone style. As soon as the three of them are aware of the situation, Alfred marches over to a panel in the wall, opens up a secret compartment, and pulls out an AK-47. "I have not spent three-fourths of my life at this Manor for a group of brutish, arrogant thugs to think they can just waltz in and lay claim to the place. As you like to say, Master Jason- let's light em up, boys." This can be a serious film or another action comedy. It's pretty much just Home Alone with some guns thrown in. They blind the invaders with several disgustingly bright glitter bombs and then Alfred whips out from behind a corner with his rifle, they've got booby traps on all the staircases, Jason's throwing pies at people, etc. The most important detail is that they successfully defend their home as civilians. No use of vigilante skills whatsoever. The news are baffled and the boys cheekily only comment that Home Alone is a cherished childhood film in their household. This plot could be edited to include Tim, Damian, and even Bruce as well, I just initially thought of it as just Dick, Jason, and Alfred.

[mysharona1987]

Wait, so they basically set up the booby traps that killed them?

Can we stop with the idea that this army is *at all* competent or has tactics?

All they can do is randomly bomb shit and post sadistic videos.

Going by the evidence, most of them are just a bunch of young (drug maybe addled?) social media addicted idiots who think this whole thing is an excuse to get more tiktok followers and are turning a blind eye to the severity of the situation.

[radioisntdead]

Jax & Sibling! Reader headcanons

You poor, poor POOR unfortunate soul, imagine having this guy for a brother!

You think everyone else has it tough with him? You get the brunt of everything!

I think the only way you'd survive is if you're far more chaotic or equally as chaotic.

Dude definitely tries to sacrifice you.

He has probably done so before.

I'm not saying you should steal the wafer gun and smack him over the head with it but you should steal the wafer gun and smack him over the head with it.

I feel bad for everyone else who gets wrapped up in the sibling warfare that inevitably happens between you, I'm talking things getting thrown, do they have wild animals NPCs? If they do they're getting unleashed into your room.

He gets verbally bullied, you call him a Play-Doh creation, a bald bunny, built like Gumby etc etc

If you have like, stink bombs or something their getting set off,

Booby-trap his room home alone style and set him on fire or something.

Heaven forbid there's an adventure involving dentists, if neither of you can experiment on Caine then you're operating on his yellow bunny teeth.

You should not have a dentistry license!

I feel like, Like most sibling relationships y'all will defend the other if someone says something about the them.

You should totally throw carrots at him.

You definitely laugh at him when he has to work at the notMcDonald's™

Laugh at him. Cook him in the fryer.

Good evenin' folks! I do hope you enjoyed this, I haven't written anything for the amazing digital circus despite it being on my fandom list for like, two months so what better way to start then with the purple rabbit!

Thank you for tunin' on in and I hope you all have a wonderful night!

[vague-humanoid]

For these reasons, as FCO Consular travel advice makes clear, unexploded ordnance remains a problem throughout Lebanon. Deaths and injuries continue, with victims falling foul of mines, shells, unexploded Israeli cluster bombs or even booby trapped toys, allegedly dropped by the Israeli airforce near Lebanese villages adjacent to the so-called security zone. In February 1999, the Lebanese Armed Forces (LAF) estimated that only 235 of the identified 743 minefields in Lebanon outside the Israeli occupied zone had been fully cleared.