#but did he WATCH HIM DIE?

[inamindfarfaraway]

I need to clarify that Duke Thomas did not start the We Are Robin movement. It was already up and running, albeit in its early days, when he joined. He was the last addition to his cell. This is their first appearance.

From left to right, not counting the guys who’ve been and are being knocked out: Duke, Izzy Ortiz, Troy Walker, Daxton Chill, Riko Sheridan and Andre Cipriani. They’re in the sewers. Duke is down here looking for his missing, Joker-gassed parents among the homeless. The others are here to foil a terrorist cult of homeless people, and also because their shadowy true leader has his eye on Duke and specifically sent them to give him the chance to sign up. Duke jumps into their dangerous mission like the hero he is. That same day, Troy dies. He stays behind to defuse a bomb and can’t, while his close friends and teammates, and Duke who just got here, escape on a train. In the wake of this trauma, Duke decides that he doesn’t care that that could happen to him. He wants to be a hero.

He goes on to be one of the network’s most influential and accomplished members, being a natural leader and impressing the official Robins the most (along with his friends, they’re the best team). The movement really takes off after he joins. Mostly due to exponential increase in numbers, but partly due to him. So I understand why fans think he started it, on top of him being the obvious choice as the one who becomes a proper Bat. But he didn’t.

We never learn the original amateur Robin’s name. It could have been anyone. An unknown, unremarkable background character lit a spark that set Gotham ablaze. I think that’s pretty beautiful. It definitely fits for the comic’s themes of community, being part of something greater than yourself and how ordinary people collectively can have a powerful impact that transcends their individual weakness. What’s important is that We Are Robin exists and endures. That we are all Robins together. It’s the “Anyone can be Spider-Man” idea from the Spider-Verse movies with no superpowers attached.

So who is the mysterious mastermind, the reason Duke enlisted in the first place?

Alfred Pennyworth. He either founded or cofounded We Are Robin himself or stepped in to organize and equip the very first wave of kids. He acts anonymously in disguises or online, using the handle the Nest. He gives his recruits special phones that connect them to him and each other, their armoured uniforms, information and weapons if they need them. Some, like Dax with his wrench and later handmade grappling hook guns, prefer their own tools. But he does tell Dax the key to making the grapple guns compact.

Stop joking about Duke founding a teen vigilante street gang. Alfred founding a teen vigilante street gang is much funnier. He should never hear the end of it. It’s implied that he did it all independently and kept it secret from the rest of the Batfamily, so they might not even know about it until Duke, who figured it out during his first meeting with Alfred out of disguise, informs them. And Duke’s real origin story needs no exaggeration. It shows him to be a proactive, altruistic menace with no regard for rules or his own safety just fine.

[batcavescolony]

Ok let's go back to this line from Agatha All Along

"it's underwater! There's a boy. It's a prank. They tricked him. He's gonna drown. it's a bad place. And the people, the family, there's no one to love him! He's got no one!"

Guys we're getting some Tommy lore and it's heart breaking💔 (we knew it would be).

[gothsuguru]

thinking abt how satoru is one of the only adults in the jjk universe who can separate the child from the situation/cards they are dealt with… yuji took in sukuna as a host and he’s the only adult who sees yuji as a child/his own human being while other adults see him simply as “sukuna’s host” who needs to die. thinking abt how satoru was also one of the only adults who stepped up for yuuta and that’s one of the reasons yuuta appreciates him so much… same with when he took in megumi. at the end of the day gojo satoru is the only one in the universe that knows what it’s like to be used/seen as a weapon or Entity rather than a person and he won’t let his kids feel the same way/he’ll do everything in his power to make them feel better & actually LET them be children!

[inquisitor-apologist]

Thinking about how, at the end of the day, at the fatal moment, the sunset of the Republic, it wasn’t Yoda, or Obi-Wan, or even the Chosen One himself standing in the way of Palpatine. It was Mace Windu.

Mace Windu, the inventor of Vaapad and Master of Form VII, the Jedi's strongest duelist, the only person to ever defeat Palpatine in combat. Mace Windu, Master of the Jedi Council and the youngest Master ever appointed to it, the revered leader of the Order. Mace Windu, who forgave even those who tried to kill him, who risked his life over and over again for his troops, who, after 3 years of desperate war, tried to negotiate with battle droids. Mace Windu, who knew the clones were created by the Sith and chose to trust them, who saw every Shatterpoint in the Republic, and loved it still, and fought for it until his last breath, until he was betrayed by Anakin, who he believed in and trusted despite everything.

Mace Windu, High General and hero of the Republic, the embodiment of the Light, the last and greatest champion of the Order, the best Jedi to ever live.

[haine-kleine]

a bit disheartening seeing so many people talk about Touya getting a better ending that Shigaraki and Toga because... he really didn't.

[skrunksthatwunk]

thinking about how eiji's a pole vaulter and how ash talks about eiji "flying" and how eiji's associated with bird imagery and how eiji's free (unlike ash) and how eiji comes in on a plane and leaves on a plane and how ash cannot fly, ash cannot be free, how nyc is ash's prison, and how ash is the leopard who dies climbing the mountain, unable to live at such elevation, how he was trying to reach the sky and be free but was always stuck to the earth, how he chose to die instead of climbing back down, how he chose to die where he could see the sky and hope and freedom almost like a bird with eiji's letter right in front of him rather than letting everything go wrong and ruin it once again, how eiji's a failed pole vaulter anyway, how a bad fall ruined his career and grounded him (physically and emotionally), how it took flying to america and meeting ash and needing to save him and skip for him to try flying again, how he landed hard and harsh and still the thought of that escape compelled ash to protect eiji at all costs because if he could fly that means something to him, even if he doesn't think he can fly, how eiji is the manifestation of his hope and how when he breaks and asks eiji to stay with him a while he folds himself over his legs and weighs him down and traps him and grounds him, how ash fights like hell to keep eiji alive not because he thinks he can be like him (hopeful, flying, innocent), but because he makes him forget the gravity of his situation, and so he can see eiji fly again. how he wants to see him escape. how eiji is a bird and ash is a wildcat and how ash never once saw eiji as prey. how eiji never saw ash as a predator. how it is eiji's naivete that first endears ash to him, how it is his freedom and flight and removal from darkness and his ability to leave that darkness that really roots eiji in ash's blood as something essential to him keeping on living in this hell of nyc. how it is that distance from the violence and that hope for the future that ash chooses to surround himself in as he dies. how ash dies in a dream because he feels more than anything that he can't fly like eiji, that he can never leave. how his violence is a part of him and will be forever, how it weighs him down. how he wants to enjoy the view from the mountainside rather than looking up from the ground below. as if they can both fly. as if he is with him up there and not grounded. eye-to-eye with what he can't have, seeing eiji's homeland: the sky. how he dies trying to reach the top because he couldn't take retreating and trying again. how ash, tired and tired and tired and convinced it will go on forever if he crawls back down the mountain, chooses to close his life deluged in eiji, in eiji's insistence that they can fly together, in eiji's hope for him and for them, in eiji's beautiful dream. how ash dies without trying to realize that dream. how ash, in dying, destroys it.

[sleepy-steve]

🧠🪱 Wiggly Wednesday Thursday 🧠 🪱

thank you for tagging me @stervrucht 🖤

no pressure tags: @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @stevesbipanic and of course anyone else that would like to ♡

thinking about Steve and Eddie who, after going through rounds of physical therapy after everything, continue to work out together because Steve obviously loves it and loves having a friend to work out with. and Eddie notices the difference in his stamina when he gets back to performing on stage. (and if Eddie likes to watch Steve work out a little bit, and likes Steve coming over to help his form more than a little bit, well that’s his business.) but Steve takes a dance class and shakes up his usual warmup, leaving Eddie with some… thoughts.

***

“Okay, Munson,” Steve says, pulling his arm across his body for a shoulder stretch. “You ready?”

“Ready to be tortured? Always,” Eddie jokes. It was their thing. Eddie acts like he hates being there, but he still shows up every other day to their local gym in Indianapolis. And he won’t ever deny the benefits he’s noticed since starting their exercise regime. He's faster on stage, doesn't get winded near as easily, holding those screaming notes without feeling like his lungs will explode. Little did he know that today his joke would come to be true.

Steve liked most kinds of exercise. He was a sporty guy. He liked the pull and stretch of his muscles, the feeling of accomplishment after achieving a new goal, that delicious soreness the day after a really good workout. But mostly he loved trying new things. He’d give anything half a chance if he thought it might be fun. Which is how he ended up at a dance-aerobics class the week prior, finding himself having a lot of fun, blushing furiously when the women in the class complimented how quickly he picks up the steps.

He went back three more times that week. Part of his enjoyment came from the new warmup he was taught in the class. Steve’s usual warmup consisted of basic stretches and a light jog, covering all bases to ensure he didn’t get injured, but not very exciting.

This, however, was far more enjoyable. Steve found himself sinking deep into stretches he didn't know he had flexibility for, and moving his hips to a beat, ultimately just having way more fun with the warmup. And it was about to become a huge problem for Eddie.

Steve pops his headphones over his ears, the tape deck tucked securely in his shorts pocket. He bends over, inhaling deeply as the song starts, rising up with his hands overhead, exhaling as he rolls his wrists, hips moving side to side with the beat. His already short cropped t-shirt rises, showing off a good amount of his chest. He lets his arms come down, bending over again, feeling the pull in his hamstrings. Gripping his elbows, he lets the top half of his body hang, swinging from side to side, his hamstrings fully stretched out.

Eddie looks up from his own basic stretching, shocked to see Steve fully bent over, because hey, since when was he so flexible? With Metallica blaring through his own headphones, Eddie just stares, completely forgetting where he was at in his warmup.

Steve lets his hands drop, moving to one foot, back to the centre, then the other foot. Ass just up in the air, his shorts way too tight. Eddie swallows. He’d been denying his crush for months at this point, and good god this was not helping.

Rolling his shoulders as he stands up, Steve lets his hands travel down his bare thighs, sinking into a squat with his back arched and head tilted back. Eddie's eyes are wide as he watches those tight little shorts with the little cut-ins on the sides ride up, showing far more of Steve's glorious hairy thighs than Eddie can handle. Steve drops his head forward, hunching his shoulders as he moves back to standing. He repeats the motions, and Eddie wishes he had the strength to pull his stare away from Steve's ass.

Seeing Steve's head tilted back and his back arched is sending Eddie insane. Like, he geninely thinks he might evaporate on the spot if he keeps watching. But he just can't look away.

Turning himself sideways, Steve has one foot stepped out in front of the other, legs perfectly straightened into a triangle shape, bent over his front leg. Just when Eddie thinks he’s about to get up and end his suffering, Steve lowers himself down into a lunge. His little shorts definitely way too small and tight for the movement, Steve lunges back and forth, fingertips resting on the ground on either side of his front foot. Eddie watches as the t-shirt rides up with each lunge, the desire to get his lips and tongue all over Steve's chest overwhelming him.

Shaking himself, Eddie tries to remember which shoulder stretch he was up to. He attempts something close to a stretch, but he can’t be sure he's doing it right, because Steve has lowered himself to the ground, front leg bent and back leg perfectly straight, and is fucking thrusting into the ground. If he were to ask Steve, he’d find out this was a hip flexor stretch. But Eddie’s forgotten how to form words entirely, suddenly imagining nineteen different ways he wants to get dicked down by the man before him.

Eddie suffers in silence, heart racing in his chest, watching as Steve repeats the movements on his other side. He prays that the torture ends soon, that they can just get to the workout, and Eddie can go back to pretending he doesn't want to ride Steve until his thighs give out. But Eddie gets no such luck.

Steve has moved into some kind of triangle position, hands on the ground, legs straight, and of fucking course, his ass in the air. Eddie marvels at how straight the shape is, only for a moment, because then Steve is lifting his heels up and down in turn, and jesus christ those tiny little shorts are just riding up, and Eddie can see a hint of Steve's ass peeking out. His jaw drops. He may actually explode.

Just when Eddie's thinking he can't take much more of this, Steve lowers himself down, knees spread wide, arms stretched out in front of him and head tucked down. A wild and rushed series of thoughts fly across Eddie's mind, all centred around Steve kneeling down in front of him. Eddie needs to get it together quickly.

As Steve brings himself back up to the triangle position, walking his feet to meet his hands and rolling his spine up, shoulders and head rolling back last, he sees Eddie taking off for his warmup jog. Assuming that he probably just took too long with his new warmup, Steve shrugs it off and starts his jog shortly after.

Eddie hits his personal best in several weights that day, desperately trying to expend his excess energy in some way. He barely registers the wins, mind still stuck on Steve and his perfect ass in all those new positions. He almost dissolves on the spot when Steve claps him on the shoulder in congratuations.

At the end of their session, Eddie takes a freezing cold shower and prays for the sweet release of death.

[mirrorhouse]

"after what you've put me through here i deserve this" armand says about killing the crying, exhausted boy in his arms and it's not about a meal or cleaning up the mess, really, it's about how this boy's been brought to the edge of accepting death; he's right there, longing for it, and armand can give it. and while he gives it, he feels it too. armand has been drowning for centuries, but he keeps himself afloat this way, by tasting death and feeling just the smallest respite, chasing his victims' slowing heartbeats right down into the dark until he backs away at the last moment. "the comfort we all long for." the comfort armand longs for -- the end.

[eurydia]

Glen McCready as Zevlor, reading Lord Byron's "She Walks in Beauty" and begging for a kiss.

[Full Cameo] Transcript below

She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies. One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o’er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express, How pure, how dear their dwelling-place. And on that cheek, and o’er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent!

Now, before my courage ups and flees, I beg you: kiss me.

[sugarsparksart]

what a silly guy !! do people still like giving him a fun robot body

bonus silly doodle under da cut

[kidatanaka]

tanaka & friends

[vaugarde]

im abt to rb a post on this anyways but tbh i dont know how you can finish isat and go “siffrin wasnt punished enough”.

the fella has killed themselves several times, what more do you want from him?

[fisherrprince]

coroner voice the short stories got her

(I have received... several invitations. I do not think they're seriously expecting us, but it would be rude not to attend, right?)

[todayisafridaynight]

rate the outfit

[botanicallyinclinednerd]

I love it that with Stargate, counting how many times a character has died is a matter of semantics

[fog-kid]

I saw the wiki writing about q!Jaiden's death and got an idea. Here's to the end of Parrotduo

Roier doesn't believe in gods, he doesn't believe any creature could be as cruel to orchestrate this Hell. A lot of people in the island do though, when they talk about certain things that have no logic behind them.

Like when Spreen went missing, that was okay. Roier never let go, he's not the type to forget, but he could live his life normally because at least he had somewhere to place his hate.

One day, a normal day, no big fights with codes or books from white bears, just a simple day, the island realized he was dead.

That's when Roier got bitter because all this hate was left with no vessel and when it all sprang back to him, he had no choice but to look at it. Nowhere to shove the love that was tangled between all his ill wishings.

He doesn't believe in gods, but that time when everyone came to the same conclusion, they decided there was more to it all.

Today, Roier is in a cellar when he finds out. He can almost see it being written, Purgatory, not arriving on the ship, nuclear bomb. If there are gods, they are awfully descriptive and he once again wishes to be a non believer.

He hugs his legs, guilt nagging at the base of his throat and ending at the nails that dig into his pants, because he has to mourn in a body that's not his. He almost doesn't want to picture her, she's too good for this foreign brain. Doied doesn't deserve to even come close to the pain that's stitching his eyes, he has no place where Jaiden is concerned.

Still, there's nothing to do, and his tears are more him than the cheeks they slide down, because him and Jaiden, that could never be about a body. That was deeper, so much deeper. All of a sudden there's a hole in his chest where she was supposed to be and he knows there's a piece of him lost somewhere that should have stayed in Jaiden too.

That would be it then, he feels it swell inside him and break his ribcage, all of the words he never got to say and the smiles he never got to watch. The fight they put up, the nights they cried themselves to sleep. More than a heartbreak, it's a matter of soul.

"Is there anyone left?" he wonders aloud when the dizziness from days without sleep draws a perfect picture of her in front of him. Her wings look ethereal like never before

"Where do I put all this love if there's no one left?" he tries asking. Her smile was always too much like a setting sun.

She doesn't answer but it's clear to Roier like it was clear to her when she stayed. They never had answers, they never asked each other these questions because the other was always wondering the same thing.

He wonders now, alone and nothing but a mind trapped in treacherous flesh, if she will manage to find Bobby. He wonders if he has anything left to fight for. He wonders, for not more than a second, what it'll take to see her again. See them again.

And off she goes like everyone Roier comes to love. He should be used to this by now. He's not.