#drop gadget repeat

[low-quality-odd-squad]

[alienzil]

Okay so I saw this post and you know the types of fics where adult Danny moves to Gotham and winds up emotionally adopting one or more of bat kids or accidentally coparenting with Bruce (with or without a relationship between them)? I had the thought, what if Danny parented the bat kids but he started doing it out of spite?

Like, Danny moves to Gotham and runs into Batman and Robin one night while out for a late night flight and drops down to the rooftop to say hi.

Bruce sees this 5'6" twink that looks like a stiff breeze could knock him over and is so obviously new in town and thinks Gotham is going to eat him alive, he needs to leave before he gets killed.

Batman: Looming menacingly and in his deepest scariest Batman voice, "Leave. Metas aren't allowed in Gotham."

Danny: Offend! Excuse?! Who does this guy think he is?! 😡 Danny was trying to be polite here! "First of all, I'm not a meta. Second of all, rude much?!"

Batman: Does scariest bat glare. "Leave." Swoops off into the night.

Robin (Damian): "My father is correct. You should leave the city for your own safety."

Danny sees this tiny vigilante child with fierce expression and a sword and is just like awww, so cute! 😍 Then he noticed Robin had a small cut on his arm and his inner gremlin activates. If the rude flying furry can't take care of his own kid properly, Danny will do it better!

He bandages up Damian's arm, gives him a cookie and teaches him a neat sword trick before sending him on his way with a hug telling him he needs his sleep.

Danny goes out of his way to run into the bat kids and be the absolute best dad.

He takes Nightwing flying and throws him in the air so Nightwing can do all the fanciest acrobatic tricks.

He tracks down Red Hood and starts a book club with him (Danny may or may not have used his connection with Ghost Writer to get ahold of some rare books).

He eats waffles with Spoiler and trys out weird topping combinations that make them both make faces and laugh.

He makes new gadgets for Red Robin but carefully breaks them just a little bit and takes them to the teen so they can fix them together (it's enrichment!). He always insists RR keep them as a reward.

He follows Signal around during the day invisibly, making faces and doing tricks only Signal can see (he made him laugh in front of the police at a crime scene twice!).

All of the kids get his attention and love and Danny smugly thinks how Batman must be absolutely seething about his kids bonding with Danny and Batman missing out on all of it.

Danny started it out of spite but he does wind up genuinely loving the bat kids.

Batman definetly hates it when the kids are bonding with Danny and is extremely jealous (sulky Batman brooding in his cave about it).

Bruce's repeated attempts to intimidate Danny into leaving Gotham don't work and him telling his kids to stay away from Danny had zero effect (the terrible children don't listen to him at all).

So Bruce starts spending more time with the kids to compete against Danny. The bat kids love it and (little gremlins that they are) use the two of them against each other constantly.

Bruce:"Sorry Tim, I can't make it to your photography exhibit this weekend, there's a meeting with the Justice League."

Tim:"Oh that's fine... I'll just ask Danny to come." 😏

Bruce: Narrows his eyes and grits his teeth, "Actually, the Justice League needs to have contingencies in place to manage without my input. This would be a good time to test their capabilities. I'll skip the meeting and come to your exhibit."

With both of them competing to spend more time with the kids it leads to the two of them spending time with each other to be around the kids more.

After Damian catches a terrible flu bug, Danny spends an entire weekend at the manor babying him. This is when Bruce finds out Danny has known their secret identities for months and tries to get mad about it but Alfred puts his foot down, raises a judgmental eyebrow in Bruce's direction that puts a stop to that nonsense and sets up Danny with his own room in the family wing.

Eventually, Danny gets to the point where he spends most of his nights at the manor and he and Bruce consult each other on all major household decisions.

The whole family is at the manor one morning including Danny. Bruce has a meeting at WE and he and Danny are absently discussing their plans for the day at the breakfast table.

Bruce: " The meeting should take most of the morning and then I have paperwork this afternoon and a scheduled walk through on one of the new engineering projects. I probably won't be done by the time school let's out. Can you pick up Damian today?"

Danny: "That shouldn't be a problem. Would you mind swinging by the bookstore on the way home and getting my preorder? Jay and I just finished rereading the first book and we were wanting to start the second tonight before you all go on patrol. I'd rather not try to make it to the bookstore in school rush hour traffic"

Bruce: "Sure."

Stephanie watches Danny reach out and absently straighten Bruce's tie as they both get up to leave. Bruce grabs Danny's coffee thermos and hands it to him while they walk out the door.

Stephanie: "Sooo, bets on how long until they realize they're basically married?"

[scandinavianfairytale]

Fate

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping, obsession, attemped murder, actual murder, mentions of knives, one forced kiss, Feyd believes in his dreams & calls it fate 🙈

Feyd-Rautha smirked to himself as one of his guards rushed to tell him the news of the dead soldier. The guard graveled as his Lord excused himself from the meeting and casually strolled out of the room. It was time for sleep anyway.

If the soldier is dead, that means she probably took his knife. Feyd continued smiling as he approached the locked room you were kept in. My Little mouse.

As the door opened you clutched the knife behind your back and anxiously waited for your captor to enter the wretched room. You observed him as he entered and discarded his clothes, your eyes sneaking to the little gadget that prevents him from getting stabbed. Either he was oblivious or he was confident. Either way, this predicament you were in ends tonight.

You tried masking your breathing as he slowly advanced to you, your anxiety (or was it fear?) rising with each one of his steps. He seemed relaxed and that was your cue. Masterfully, you brought the knife out from behind your back and with all your strength plunged it at his abdomen.

Your victory, if you could call it that, was short lived as you realized that while the knife made impact, it made impact with his hand. You stared at his grip on the knife, clutching the blade as blood slowly dripped from it. His face was twisted in delight. And even though you were afraid, you hoped that your captivity will still come to an end, this time by the hands of your captor.

He easily pulled the knife out of your hands, as he sensed your defeat. Feyd chuckled at your boldness, you actually had the gall to try and kill the na-Baron. He already knew you were a good and sly fighter, but he didn't realize you were also this brave. He observed your demeanor and he realized you were hoping to get killed. Maybe escape was not on your mind.

"Don't worry, little mouse. I won't hurt you." He smirked. "Yet." He kept his eyes glued to yours as he discarded the knife and licked his blood-stained hand. He loved the sweet metal aftertaste the blood left behind in his mouth.

"I hate you."

"I know." His chuckle rumbled from deep within his chest. Like he found it so amusing.

"Why are you doing this then?" You gestured to the long chains that were shackled to your wrists. "Why am I here?"

"Because I want you." Feyd spoke so matter-of-factly, like it made complete sense. He breached the small distance between the two of you and stared into your eyes. "For the past couple of years, I dreamt of a figure that will lead me to becoming Emperor. She was by my side as the houses bowed down to me."

As he spoke, you recognized the dream. You've had it as well, on repeat for the last year. Feyd smirked as he saw your recognition.

"She was always hidden by a mask, her face just out of my reach. But then I took control of Arrakis, and this sand finally unveiled her." He took a dramatic pause. Like he didn't already know what the next sentence out of his mouth would be. "It was you."

"So I searched for you until I found you." Feyd caressed your hair, as if you were the most precious thing in his possession.

"Let me get this straight, because of a reoccurring dream you decided to kidnap me and keep me locked in here?" Your face hardened in disgust, flinching away slightly.

"Not a dream. Fate."

"I didn't peg you for one of those people that believe in fate."

"You're the reason why I believe in fate."

"And now what? What's your plan?" You barked.

"I'll keep you here until you submit. Until I can have you by my side, willingly. And then we take what is ours." His voice dropped to almost a whisper, and his hand traveled from your hair to your chin, gripping it tightly and lifting your chin up. You wanted to turn away as it became too overwhelming, but his lips came crashing down on yours. You felt as if he consumed you. It was too much, but Feyd's hands enveloped you, bringing you even closer together.

He couldn't get enough of you. You had a taste to you that he couldn't place. Something foreign but at the same time familiar. It was as if you were his own personal drug that he took for the first time.

Your hands pushed up against his bare chest, trying to push him away, but he wouldn't budge. So you bit him hard, drawing blood, and finally, he let you go, with the softest moan leaving his lips. You weren't under any pretense - he let you push him away. For what reason, you weren't sure, but you were glad he was a safe distance away. You willed yourself to swallow the bile that rose in your throat as his blood left a bitter taste in your cavity.

Feyd ran his fingers over his lips and sucked the blood from them. He smirked, his teeth stained with his own blood. "You really like hurting me today, Little mouse. I like this side of you."

"Take the cuffs off, and maybe you'll like me even more." You challenged, your voice shaky as you were still trying to catch your breath.

"Please, give me some credit. I may be reckless and up for a good fight, but you still killed your guard and took his knife, hoping to do the same to me. I'd be downright stupid if I let you out of those cuffs." Feyd chuckled, and he walked past you towards the only bed in the otherwise nearly empty space.

"Come now, it's time for bed."

"I'm not tired."

"That wasn't a suggestion." His voice was harder, like he was warning you. In your mind you knew, but you felt stubborn, especially after this whole debacle. So, you refused to move. Feyd didn't hear your footsteps, and he slowly turned his head to glance at you from over his shoulder. You could see how his back strained.

"You have one more chance to listen. If you don't, I will not be lenient, no matter what fate tells me." Feyd spoke in an ominous voice, and it made you rethink your choice. Slowly, you made your way towards him, and he slowly entered the bed, with you following him.

This has become a routine for you. Every night, Feyd would come back, and he would sleep next to you, holding some part of you. Most of the time, he held your hand, but tonight, he pulled you close and tucked you under his chin, inhaling your scent.

And just like any other night, while Feyd-Rautha slept peacfully, you didn't sleep a wink.

Thank you for reading! 😊✨️

The GIF belongs to the amazing creator 😊💪

[infiniteeight8]

Manipulative Stephen (final part)

Prompt: Can we get more manipulative Stephen? Pretty please with a giant cherry on top?

@quasaranthonybutterfly Despite the fact that you have a new username, this still arrived in my e-mail notifications but not in my Tumblr inbox, same as last time. Who even knows why, with Tumblr.

Anyway! Here is the last piece of the Manipulative Stephen mini-series. 😀

Previous parts: Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 4. 

Behind a cut because this got *really* long (for a ficlet).

-

Tony has been pulling away from him.

Stephen isn’t entirely sure when it started. Plenty of his lifetimes included arguments and missteps in their relationship, especially early on, before Stephen knew Tony quite so well, but he knows that he hasn’t repeated any of those mistakes. It’s unsettling, and alarming, because if this is some new issue, then he… doesn’t know how to fix it.

After fourteen million lifetimes, you’d think it would be impossible for anyone to surprise him, but Tony… Well, Tony is remarkable.

Eventually, Stephen falls back on asking. They haven’t had a date night in a while, but he finds Tony in the lab and is relieved when not only does his access still work, but the bots still greet him with cheerful chirps. Not too far gone to fix, then. Even if Tony doesn’t look up from his work.

Stephen pulls up a stool close by, but not too close, and waits for Tony to sigh heavily and set the gadget aside. “What is it?”

“You’re upset with me,” Stephen says carefully. “But I don’t know why. I’d like the chance to fix it, if I can.”

Tony just looks at him for a long moment. “What makes you think I’m upset?”

Stephen clamps down on a surge of uncertainty. No going back now. “You haven’t dropped by the Sanctum in a while,” he says. “We haven’t been on a date in two weeks. And you’ve stopped texting me.”

“I still text you,” Tony says.

Stephen shakes his head. “You reply. You don’t initiate.”

Tony blows out a breath. “I guess this isn’t really something I can figure out without talking about it,” he says, annoyed. Stephen waits. Finally Tony turns to face him directly. “In the Avengers debriefing two weeks ago, you said that you knew how the fight was going to go because you’d seen it before.”

“Yes.”

“In the fourteen million lifetimes,” Tony adds.

“Yes,” Stephen frowns.

“Which means you saw a lot more than just the path to beating Thanos,” Tony says. 

Trepidation fills Stephen. “I never knew what circumstances would be important,” he says carefully. “I had to try everything.”

Tony nods. “You must have gotten to know us pretty well. All of us.”

“Yes,” Stephen says. 

Tony sets his jaw. “Stephen. Did you suggest that I ask Pepper about the bots because you knew how Pepper would react? And how I would?” Stephen doesn’t know what his face does, but it must be expressive, because anger tightens Tony’s voice when he goes on. “And you knew just how to lure me into a relationship, didn’t you? That’s even why you waited for me to make the first move: because you didn’t want me to realize it was all your idea.”

“I never lied to you,” Stephen says intently. There has to be a way to save this. Tony hadn’t shut him out, not completely. “I never influenced anyone’s actions in any way. Not yours, and not anyone else’s. Maybe I picked the right words, but the reactions were still genuine.”

Tony slaps the top of his work bench, hard. “You don’t have to lie to be dishonest!” He pushes himself up off the stool and paces a few steps away before spinning to face Stephen again. “You’ve been playing me.”

“I have not,” Stephen snaps. He stands, too. “Nothing about this has been a game to me, Tony. I know we can be happy together. Really, truly, genuinely happy.”

“And that justifies breaking up the relationship I was already happy in?”

“That was your choice.”

“That you knew I’d make,” Tony shoots back.

“Would you rather not know how Pepper feels about the bots?” Stephen asks, incredulous. “Are you really going to pretend you believe ignorance is bliss when it comes to them?” Tony doesn’t speak, but Stephen can see him falter. “Tony, when you were sick with the palladium poisoning, why didn’t you tell Pepper and Rhodey that you were dying?”

Tony scowls. “What does that—”

“Please,” Stephen begs. He’s not above it. Not for this. 

“I didn’t want to hurt them,” Tony says tightly. “There wasn’t anything they could do to help. It would have torn them apart.”

“You knew how they’d react, and you wanted to spare them the pain,” Stephen says. Tony looks away. “I knew how you’d react, and I wanted to make you happy. Why is that worse?”

It takes Tony a minute to answer. “I feel like you’re running this relationship,” he says finally. “Like it doesn’t matter what I think or feel, it’s all up to you.”

Stephen can’t help it: he laughs. Tony’s glare is fierce. “I’m sorry,” Stephen says. “I’m sorry. It’s just… I know how you’ll react to some things, even a lot of things, but I can’t change those reactions. Tony, what you think and feel dictates everything I do.” He smiled wryly. “Just in advance, instead of after the fact.”

Stephen can almost see events rearranging themselves in Tony’s head. “Why bother?” he asked finally. “Why rearrange everything just so I fit neatly into it?”

“Because I love you,” Stephen says simply. “And before you ask, no, I didn’t see this argument coming, and no, I’m not saying that to derail it. We never had this argument in any other timeline. It’s just the truth. I love you, and any adjustment is worth it if it means having you in my life.”

“What do I even do with that?” Tony bursts out. “You love me and you’ve manipulated me and I… I have been happy.” He looks torn.

Stephen risks taking a step closer. “That’s not a bad thing,” he says softly. “You’re allowed to be happy, Tony. You don’t have to earn it. Just… let me make you happy. Please.”

“By any means necessary?” Tony asks dryly, but he doesn’t retreat when Stephen closes the distance between them.

“I would never do anything that would drive you away,” Stephen promises. Carefully, he pulls Tony into his arms. 

Tony snorts. “Am I ever going to win an argument with you?”

Stephen quirks an eyebrow. “You win all the arguments we never have.”

“That is not the same thing,” Tony says, poking Stephen in the chest. 

“Of course you will,” Stephen says. After all, Tony liked winning, and what Tony liked, Stephen would provide. “My knowledge is extensive, but it isn’t perfect. Witness this argument, which I didn’t see coming.”

“Still won it, though,” Tony returns.

Stephen’s heart soars. “Have I?”

Tony gives him a look. “Don’t rub it in.”

Stephen kisses him, then, because anything else he could say probably would.

Tony kisses back. 

That’s all that matters.

[mintyys-blog]

THE ROSE INCIDENT— peter parker

WARNINGS: sex toy (rose)

Peter Parker had never been shy about his curiosity, especially when it came to things he didn’t quite understand. It was one of the reasons he was so good at being Spider-Man, always analyzing, always questioning. But today, his curiosity was going to get him in trouble.

It was late, and he was at Y/N’s house, spending the night. She’d gone to take a shower, leaving him alone in her bedroom. He’d flopped down on her bed, pulling out his phone to scroll through some texts from his friends. His eyes were glued to the screen when something on the nightstand caught his attention.

A small red plastic rose. It was odd, almost out of place amongst the usual things Y/N kept on her nightstand. Curious, Peter picked it up, turning it in his hands. It was light and smooth, almost too perfect to be a real rose. But the most curious thing about it was that it had a button on the side.

“Hmm…” Peter muttered under his breath as he pressed it. To his surprise, the little rose began to hum softly, vibrating slightly in his hands. Peter’s eyes widened in confusion. “What the…?”

He tried pressing it again, wondering if he had triggered some sort of toy or gadget by accident. It vibrated again, and Peter, being Peter, was now fully intrigued. Was it a gadget? A toy? Or something more? His mind raced with possibilities, but nothing made sense.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of the bathroom door opening, followed by the familiar sound of Y/N’s footsteps. Panicking slightly, he dropped the rose onto the floor just as she entered the room, her hair damp from her shower, wearing a loose T-shirt and shorts.

“PETER!” Y/N screamed, her eyes wide with shock and embarrassment. She rushed forward, her face flushing crimson as she pointed at the vibrating rose on the floor. “What the hell are you doing with that?!”

Peter froze, his face turning an equally bright shade of red. “I—I didn’t know what it was! It just… started vibrating when I pressed it!” he stammered, his hands flying up in defense, though his cheeks were still burning.

Before he could say another word, Y/N snatched the rose off the floor, quickly turning it off. The room fell into awkward silence, the hum of the toy replaced with a tense atmosphere. She shoved it into the nearest drawer, her cheeks still flushed as she turned to face him.

“We never speak of this,” she said firmly, her voice a little too serious to be funny, but Peter could see the corner of her mouth twitching.

Peter nodded vigorously, his face still red. “Uh, yeah… totally. I swear. No mention of the… vibrating rose,” he said, his voice cracking slightly in his embarrassment.

Y/N sighed, sitting down beside him on the bed, still blushing but trying to hide it behind a forced glare. “I can’t believe you found that,” she muttered, shaking her head.

Peter let out a nervous laugh, his face still flushed as he awkwardly adjusted his position. “I—uh, I promise I didn’t know what it was. I just thought it was… a weird flower thing.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “A ‘weird flower thing,’ huh?”

Peter winced. “Okay, so… maybe I shouldn’t have messed with it, but it was just sitting there, and I’m, you know, kind of naturally curious.”

Y/N looked at him for a moment before a small smile tugged at her lips. “I guess I can’t blame you for being curious… but next time, maybe don’t touch strange things without asking.”

Peter gave her a sheepish grin. “Yeah, lesson learned. Definitely won’t be doing that again.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, shaking her head at him. “Good. Now, let’s just forget it ever happened, okay?”

“Yeah. Forget it ever happened,” Peter repeated, his voice almost a whisper, though he couldn’t quite shake the slight awkwardness lingering in the air.

As they sat there, the silence finally felt comfortable again, and Peter couldn’t help but grin to himself. “Hey, at least I didn’t break it,” he said with a playful wink, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop herself from laughing softly. “You’re lucky I like you, Parker.”

Peter smirked, feeling the tension finally ease. “Yeah, I’m pretty lucky.”

But the little red rose, hidden away in the drawer, would forever remain a reminder of one very awkward moment. A moment neither of them would ever bring up again, of course. But Peter couldn’t help but wonder if Y/N would ever trust him around strange objects again.

[https-lvesick]

now playing: 200 - minhyung's version by mark

summary ・ after losing the people he loved the most, mark could never move on... but is it really that bad when you return? ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤgenre ・ angst (that's the first idea that came out when i was listening to this fucking song, thanks mark) ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤcontent ・ grieve, character death, spiderverse is mentioned (and used), silk!reader again because i love her! lowkey toxic at the end but... uh... yeah... ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwc ・ 1980

[notes] i may be a bit uh... invested in spidermark, i admit it. this idea came out when i was listening to the mentioned song lol and whenever you guys see a post "now playing" keep in mind that the fic was plotted because of the song! ngl i literally sobbed real hard while writing the first two paragraphs... i guess i was a bit overwhelmed...

and there he was again. sitting on top of a building, doing your favourite activity together, looking at the moon. his mask was discarded beside bim, his phone in hands, earbuds paired and the song he wrote for you was playing on repeat while he watched some videos of you.

if only he had been faster. you would be there too, with him. now he has no one for him. he wasn't capable of saving the people he loved the most so why is the city still counting on him? why was he doing all of this when, out of all people in the country, he couldn't save only two...

"baby, look! aren't they the cutest?" you point to a pet café, where three cats could be seen by the window.

"they surely are! oh look, they're greeting you!" his voice is joyful. the soft and lovely tone and the sparkling eyes whenever he looked at you or even thought about you were undeniable signs of his love and adoration for you.

"can we have one when we move in together?" you asked, looking at him over the phone. and who was him to deny when you looked so adorable like that?

"we surely can, love." he giggles. It was one of his many memories with you, but this one is where you mentioned moving in with him. a tear dropped at the screen, wetting the phone and suddenly, there was mark again, sobbing.

you finally graduated from high school and were going to attend the same university, so why not move in together? you've spent years together, attached to the hip, in a joyful friendship, which later evolved into a romantic relationship and you couldn't been happier. mark and you were sure you could handle each other's weird habits and were ready for that. let's be honest, you've seen each other at its worst multiple times, and nothing could make your relationship weird.

that time... when he stupidly let you go... you were excited. talking about new cute decorations you found on a website and cat's products for the new addition to your and mark's family.

but that fucking scumbag needed to target you. he needed to take you from him...

every single day mark still reminisced in that moment. he couldn't think of anything other than you. you were his first thought in the morning when he woke up and the last when he was going to sleep. he tried to focus on the good parts. when he had you. but it was hard not to remember he was the one to blame for your loss. after all, he was your superhero. your spideyboy.

his heart clenched again and, by that time, his face was completely drenched in tears. he couldn't stop thinking about you. and this was making him sicker and sicker every day.

the gadget on his suit blinked, announcing a new mission for spiderman. and that was the one thing keeping mark alive. he was trying to compensate for his loss by overworking himself.

"imma make it for you, my love..." he mumbled to himself, drying, uselessly, his face, before standing up.

honestly, mark didn't know how he ended up in this situation. suddenly the city was full of spiders, which he didn't even know that could exist.

"so wait... uh... you're... me... but from another universe?" he tried to cope, he was, really hard, but... how did that happen?

"not you, i'm me, but yeah..." the other spider said. "and there's someone else, silk. as soon as she found out about it, she was willing to help us." he smiled.

"yeah! she travels through the multiverse a lot!" the blonde girl said, swinging her legs.

"but she's a bit late, i see..." the spider who seemed the oldest, spoke, grumpy as always. mark had already noticed it...

they were discussing loudly and mark's head was spinning. when, in a million years, he could guess there were other spiders? and that there was a multiverse. and that he could travel through it whenever he wanted.

suddenly an orange portal appeared and another spider could be seen coming. another woman.

"sorry guys, i was... busy..." she reasoned, wiping off some blood on staining her suit.

as soon as she spoke, mark felt a pang in his heart because why is her voice so identical to yours? and your body proportions? yeah, he was really confused.

but, when the named silk, took off the part of her suit that was hiding half of her face, mark's blood drained. his face was terrified and the blonde girl named gwen noticed it.

"hey... you fine?" she asked, tapping his shoulder.

the spider version of you approached him with concern in your eyes. "uh... mark, right? what's wrong?"

everything was wrong! it was you! his love, his girlfriend. the woman he'd burn the world for if this meant to keep you safe. you were alive? and a spider in another universe? what the fuck was going on?

"y-yeah... i just... need some air..." he quickly grabbed his mask and put it on.

"we literally on top of a building..." the other spider named mark mumbled, watching the guy jump off, swinging on his webs.

it was kinda comic the amount of times the spiderman could be spotted up in buildings in random times of the day doing nothing. actually doing the same thing he had been doing for good seven months... thinking.

"great thing you're fine. i thought you were about to pass out." behind him there was your voice. he pressed his eyes together, trying to remember: you were not you. she was not you.

"sorry..." he mumbled. "i was... uh... having a hard time..." he tried to reason. but as soon as you sat beside him, he lost it completely. but how could he cope when she was exactly like you. when she even had the same scent he could never forget.

"you know... that grumpy man out there and me are kind of... responsible for this uh... spiderverse thing. so i kinda feel like we could take care of you. and i'm definitely in charge of gwen, so you can report her behaviour to me if needed." you laugh and mark can feel his heart warming at his favourite sound. "the point is... if you need to talk... i'm here to listen..."

oh and he wants, more than anything. he wants to tell you how much he misses you. how he wants to just leave this life of superhero and maybe kidnap you, so you can live together, far away from this mess of a life. but... it's not you... it's not.

you sighed and smiled, caressing his shoulders before standing up. maybe you got the hint, he didn't want to talk, or maybe he wasn't ready for it.

"i had a girlfriend..." he blurted out and you stopped. even if he wasn't mentally prepared to talk about you again, especially with someone who is a carbon copy of the woman he loved the most, mark knew he needed to. he needed to release this fog of blame that was plaguing his mind and heart ever since the beginning.

you kept your distance, trying to make him as comfortable as possible.

"she was... the girl of my dreams, you know." he smiled, already feeling the tears starting to prick up in his eyes. "did you ever feel like... living in heaven just by having a special person by your side?" he asked and you hummed in response. "that was it... that was what she was for me. my fucking world ever since we met each other when we were only six."

he paused, sighing deeply, wiping some tears off his face. you waltzed towards him slowly, resuming your previous position beside him.

"we were about to move in together. we were gonna attend the same university, so why not? she was so excited, she was thinking of having a cat as our child..." mark smiled lovingly and you couldn't help but do the same. "but then... a fucking bastard, who i thought was my best friend, took her from me. i wasn't... fast enough to catch her while she was falling... i..." he sobbed and you touched his back, trying to comfort him in some way. "it happened seven months ago and i still can't move on. i overwork myself as spiderman, forgetting about my normal life..." he chuckled. "in hopes that i can stop thinking about it for a second, but it's kinda impossible." and for the first time he looked in your eyes.

you could see the pain right in his soul, it's like you could read him like an open book, but there was a hint of pure love. he locked his eyes to yours and frowned, letting more tears fall.

"and it doesn't help the bare fucking minimum that you look exactly like her. from your eyes to your feet, you are her. so why here? why, out of the other many universes out there, it had to be mine?" the pain in his tone made you feel guilty.

you were taken aback by his words. speechless. you averted your gaze from his, but he was still looking at you.

"but you know... i'm kinda relieved now... i can finally feel you here after all. i know you're not her. you're not... mine... but please, let me hug you... that's the only thing i'm asking for now... please..." he mumbled, desperately. she was the one thing that kept him close to you again. he needed it for his life.

without thinking too much you pleaded. the sigh of pure relief he let out made you cry a bit. you could tell he needed it like it was oxygen. like this would make him live again.

mark touched every part of your body, trying to feel everything of you like it was the last time he could do it. your hair, your shoulders, your waist. he buried his face in the crook of your neck so he could smell your scent once again like it was some kind of aphrodisiac.

but then he pulled away from you, cupping your face in his hands, staring directly into your soul before moving his gaze to your lips, licking his own.

his mind was telling "that's not her", but how could he get it when she looks exactly like you? right in front of him once again. it's like... you've never been gone. he had you one more time, he couldn't let you go again...

"mark..." you whispered and he closed his eyes. having you calling his name again had his head spinning. you can't do it to me... please don't... "i'm not her... i don't wanna hurt you or... having you thinking i can replace her..." no one can ever replace her. "but..."

"would you... let me kiss you?" he wasn't thinking straight. she couldn't do it to him. to your memory, but... how could she deny it when he was asking so eagerly? so... passionate. so... needed.

"would it make you feel any better?" you ask, somehow feeling guilty.

"much better..." he mumbled, getting closer.

when your lips touched, you could feel mark melting right away. his body was eager and you could tell it was the best moment ever since... his loss. one of his hands remained on your cheek, caressing lovingly, while the other flew to your waist.

it was wrong. he couldn't be doing it. she wasn't you. but how could he do the right thing? was there even wrong or right? his mind kept on telling him one thing, but his heart was so happy to have you back. it wouldn't hurt any more to have a little piece of you again. even if you could never return to his life...

[peaceandjusticecat]

Dick: Hey Bruce, I just found this great new gadget for fighting crime!

Bruce: Dick, we have the most advanced technology Wayne Enterprises can offer. What could possibly be better?

Dick: A giant inflatable Bat-signal! We could float it over Gotham and scare criminals silly!

Jason: We could just play the Bat-signal on repeat over loudspeakers. Instant villain deterrent.

Tim: Guys, guys, imagine if we had Batmobiles that transformed into giant robotic bats! Crime-fighting would never be the same!

Babs: Or how about Bat-themed drones that drop net traps on fleeing criminals? Catching bad guys with a bit of flair!

Damian: These ideas are impractical and childish. We should focus on enhancing our combat skills and strategic maneuvers.

Alfred: Master Damian does have a point. Efficiency and subtlety are key in our line of work.

Bruce: Thank you, Alfred. Now, can we get back to discussing actual crime-fighting strategies?

Dick: Sure, Bats. But let's keep that giant inflatable Bat-signal idea on the back burner, just in case!

Bruce: *facepalms silently*

[olailamajnoon]

Steve, Part 2

Previous fic

Steve walked into the bathroom of the warehouse where Batman had stashed him. Stupid flightless birds, he muttered, thinking of Oswald Cobblepot and his giant drum belly. Thanks to you, I don't have place to hang my underwear. The lack of fucking clotheshooks inside the cold-ass bathroom annoyed him. Who wants to put their underwear on the floor while showering? And there was no bathtub. Fucking Penguin, and fucking Regina.

Regina, with her drop-down-dead beautiful eyes, and her soft gurgly voice. Her lips, the way they kissed him, like he was wanted and loved.

She had wanted a squirrel fur coat, and had made it the price of admission, and Steve, like a total chump, had taken the bait.

"Takeout!" someone called from the door. Steve stepped out of the shower hurriedly and put on his robe and tighty-whities. "Coming!" he called, hoping the voice belonged to the blue one, and not the red one who liked to poke fun at his—everything, really.

He breathed in. Why the fuck was he nervous? These guys had never hurt him. These guys were constitutionally incapable of hurting him. They treated him like a vulnerable bunny. Even the big strong one with the guns.

He walked into the warehouse's main room. (He was calling it the main room because he didn't know what else to call it. It was large and white and square, and main.) The lighting was dim and harsh at the same time, and the concrete walls and floor were hard and smelled old.

There were like nine bats. There were definitely nine. Steve could count. He realized what he must look like, in his tattered bathrobe.

"Nice robe, Steve," said Red Hood. Steve stuck his tongue out.

Batman turned around, and stared at Steve. He didn't feel as self-conscious as he probably should have.

"Do you need fresh clothes," said Batman. He had some kind of gadget in his hands.

So Batman had definitely noticed.

Steve tried to smile and act jolly, but the truth was the presence of nine bats had unnerved him. He knew one thing about the Batfamily—they usually operated in twos or threes. Unless...there was a Gotham-wide operation, which could only mean one thing. A disaster. A cataclysm of epic proportions.

"What's going on? Can I help?" he asked, his smile too wide, his face way too happy.

"No," said Red Hood and Red Robin together, and then frowned at each other.

"Help how?" asked Nightwing. "You've already given us all the information on Penguin you could. Thanks to you, we took down his waterfront businesses. All of them."

Steve glowed at this praise. Then he collected his face, and composure. "I could go places you people can't. Perp habitats. Henchmen bars. Hellholes. I can be of use to you."

"Why," said Batman.

"Why?" Steve was confused. Also the heater was off, and he was standing in the middle of a cold warehouse trembling, but he didn't want Batman to see and think he was afraid or some shit. He wondered how soon he could get into his clothes. The bats seemed to be wearing insulated suits, the bastards.

"Why do you want to be of use," Batman said, as if repeating himself.

"I dunno," said Steve, shrugging. He breathed out. "Maybe cause you gave me another chance."

Batman looked at him steadily, not saying anything. Just looking with his arms crossed.

"Everyone deserves another chance," said Orphan gently.

"Yeah, well. It's whatever, you know," said Steve, embarrassed there were suddenly tears in his eyes. He didn't want to cry big man-tears in front of Batman.

"Fine," said Batman. "You might be of use."

"Really?"

"Yes. If you prove reliable, there may be a place for you. Keep out of the line of sight, and wear a mask."

Wait.

Holy fuck.

A mask?

"Yessir," said Steve. "Yes, yes sir."

"You will also—" Batman seemed to bore into Steve's eyes, "—not ask any questions that are not relevant to you, or try to ascertain our identities in any way."

"Uh—okay."

"Trust is built, Steve. My trust is limitless, once I extend it to someone, but it takes time to create."

Steve sighed happily. Batman was trying to trust him. He tried to remember the last time anyone had tried to trust him, really trust him. "I won't let you down, sir," he said.

"I hope you won't," said Batman, rather softly.

Steve turned around to go to his room to get dressed, but then he turned around. "Just one thing."

Batman cocked his head.

"I totally get it. The secret identities and all. But—" he swallowed. "I have no one to tell. I'm isolated from my family and friends, I can't ever return to them. I'm completely cut-off. So. You know. Even if I ever knew. Your secrets are safe with me."

"We'll see," said Batman shortly. "For now, you will operate under me. I'll see what can be done, about...other things."

He thinks I'm lonely, Steve realized. He thinks I'm complaining. But he doesn’t know that for the first time in my life, I don’t have to watch my back. I don’t have to keep up appearances. I’m totally fucking alone...

...and somehow, I’m fucking okay.

[thesorcerersapprenticeu]

Chapter 5: Tip Toe

After the events of the mission, the conversation between Vander and Vi and Mylo's testimony against you, you still have to continue. Strangely enough, Vander calls you for a private conversation.

---

"Lever"

"Le-ver!"

"Exactly!"

You were back in the Basement of The Last Drop. You and Powder were sitting on her bed, leaning against the wall. In the background, music was playing through an old record player, which also had something like a trumpet on it. It was quiet, relaxed and almost made you forget what you had both been listening to a few minutes ago.

 "What the hell were you thinking?"

"They are a Problem."

 "They made a mistake" - "Name one time they haven't"

 "You were twice the person at half their age."

The sentences echo in your head, one popping up again and again, making you feel the emptiness in your stomach. Powder was with you, you ran away from the Thug together, but you threw the bag into the sea.

And now, you're giving Powder something like a lesson again. You've been doing that since you were all taken in by Vander. For your young age, you could already read and write, a privilege no one from Zaun had. Most people can't do math either, whether it's money or goods. Since Vi already knew the letters, but Powder couldn't do either of those things, you taught them.

Even if you preferred to stare into Powder's sapphire blue eyes and get lost in them during this lesson, it went really well. Powder learned incredibly quickly, after just two days she was able to memorize all the letters, much faster than Vi, who only repeated everything in a hurry.

And so here you are again, but not really in class mentally. You can't stop thinking about the big notebook from the Academy apartment, the Holy Wizard Corpse. Since you learned from one of the pages almost an hour ago that there are corpse parts in Zaun and Piltover, you can't clear your head. You kept thinking about which of the Nine Parts are hiding here, in this hole, in Zaun... And what they can do. Does it have something to do with magic or some natural force of the world?

But all the while thinking about it, the whole job pops into your head about how you and Powder screwed up and all the loot is gone.

"And this Lever is an object." You say, not with as much conviction as usual, but enough to make it sound like educational words. You look to your right, to Powder, and expect a definition for object.

"An object..." Powder replies, actually quite quickly. She looks to your left for a moment, makes a thinking face and turns right again. She stretches her arm forward, grabs a piece from a metal mesh-like box and tinkers with her gadget. "Soooo...A Thing?"

Should I talk to her about Vi's statement? No, I can't do that. They're sisters, hearing something like that from your own must be much worse than from someone like Mylo.

"Yeah...A Thing." You say after a few seconds. Your mouth utters the words while your other senses automatically focus their attention on her. Her hair, her soft pale skin and everything about her was perfect. She didn't see herself that way, neither do you, after all you're both the weaklings of the group. But who cares if you have each other?

"A lever is a simple tool that helps you to move or lift heavy things more eas-

You stop talking and see Vi out of the corner of your eye. Her red hair immediately stands out in the dim light. She walks towards you, a light smile tracing her lips as she sees you both sitting there.

"What are you calling this one?" Vi asks quietly as she stops in front of the bed and leans forward slightly.

Your eyes immediately fixate on her, a few things wander through your mind.

What is she doing here? And why is she asking about Whisker, as if she's really interested? She wants us both to train or something. Or is she here to tell us what an embarrassment we've made of ourselves today? After all, she agreed with Mylo about what he said to us.

"Whisker" This time Powder waits a few seconds before answering. It even sounds slightly broken, as if she hesitated to answer. She was probably thinking the same thing you were: that Vi wants to address what happened today and distract you for now.

Powder takes the little gadget in one hand and starts drawing on it with the other. She does this with each of her creations and you could watch her for hours. It's an art how her slender fingers spread the color on the metallic surfaces and it becomes an invention.

With that, Vi suddenly moves towards you, onto the bed. While you hold on to Powder, she sits down next to you on the left, a slight distance from Powder, after all it was clear what was coming next.

"Wanna talk about today?"

Neither you nor Powder look over at her. The mood is pretty shitty, after all, she's addressing the two who lost the Haul. You think, the simple "no" answer definitely won't satisfy Vi. She's a pretty direct and determined person, so if she wants to appeal to your feelings, she can.

So you answer, dazed and in a depressive mood, but you answer.

"Why? I Ruined Everything." It sounds like rubbish coming out of your mouth. How many times have you apologized to the others just because you didn't get something right? "I'm sorry I'm so weak." Or "I didn't know, I'm sorry." If you think about it, you've already lost count of how many times you've apologized for something like that. Definitely too many times.

"Oh, I almost forgot..." Vi starts, not even a second after you've spoken. You turn your head towards her, a few strands of hair obscuring a completely clear view of her head, but her light blue eyes stare right through you. "Vander wanted to talk to you."

What, Vander wants to talk to me? Does he know what you and Mylo said about us and wants something like an apology from you to us? But does he want to talk to me alone or with Powder-

"In private."

That's all Vi had to say. You immediately push yourself over the sheet, even though you would have actually been further into the conversation, it's probably better if the two sisters talk about it among themselves. Powder can probably answer much better than you, after all, she's rather articulate with words.

The last thing you see before you leave the room is Vi moving into your now vacated seat and starting to talk to Powder.

There you are, sitting opposite Vander's tall, strong and serious stature. You just walked up the stairs again, and there he was. He stayed here, where he'd been talking to Vi privately an hour ago. But she was definitely not sitting right in front of me, but in the single chair where she always sat.

"Why do you think I want to talk to you?" Vander's voice rings out across the room. It's deep, bold and the complete opposite of yours. You shift a little in your seat because of your trembling knees, your pounding heart and your head that just can't stop thinking.

Why? It's obvious, because of what happened today. Is he perhaps angry because I lost the haul? Or does he like it because there's no more evidence against us, after all, the things should be at the bottom of the sea now.

"About...today." It sounds more like a question than an answer. Your shaky voice only makes it as far as his ears, you can't hear it yourself. But you see him slowly and quietly sighed, his eyes drift to the ceiling and he adopts a more relaxed posture on the couch opposite you.

"You do understand, right?" He takes his time before answering you, a calm voice and a confident response.

What?

"Vi's leader sense isn't wrong, but she really needs to watch what you're pulling." He finally replies. He gets out of the relaxed position and stretches his arms out in front of him, pressing his hands together. You can see the muscles in his arms, the individual veins flowing through them and the strong skin tone. "You should understand that... After all, you have a good brain."

You immediately understand what he means: you shouldn't just stand by. But you like the way he says it, he doesn't say like the others that you need to train or eat more; he emphasizes your strengths. You are the smartest one in the group, even if you don't show it and don't talk about it. Even if you have a good idea for something that would keep you out of trouble, you never say it.

Vander is the person you trust the most, followed directly by Powder. After all, Vander took you from the bridge soaked in red smoke, not only that, he showed you the other world, and at the same time showed you what it really means to live for something. He always listens to you when you tell him something, whether it's a story or something that bothers you.

"I see what you mean..." You finally answer, your thoughts running like some kind of cogwheel.  You sit down a little better, lean back and put your hands on your knees.

You don't say anything for a few seconds, and neither does he. You take deep breaths from your nose, feel the oxygen literally bring your body to life and get ready to compose your thoughts so that you won't regret it in the future.

Because you are a person who is always thinking about the mistakes from your past.

"In terms of the course of war.... It comes down to one move. One move we make wrong can end really badly for the underworld...My people." He sits up straight, a strong straight stature and his eyes fixed on you. He continues to squeeze his hands together and now interlocks some of his fingers. "What you did today was really dangerous. I've already talked to Vi about it...But you know how she is."

One Wrong Move and the Underworld is torn apart by the Enforcers. But why is he talking about it like he has so much power to manage that one move?

Vander just keeps looking at you, raising an eyebrow as you continue to stare at the floor. You shift slightly from left to right on the comfy couch. Your head is literally seething with questions and theories about Vander's statements.

Yes, he could have a deal with the Enforcers. That would make sense, as long as Vander can make sure that no one from Zaun gets into their business or causes any problems. On the other hand, enforcers don't come down here every day and savagely slaughter the people in their way.

"I understood, Vander."

"So I understand you've already disposed of the Haul?" Vander says, fixing his eyes on your hands and seeming to recognize something. He probably seems to be looking at the light slashes you have from climbing, your skin is more sensitive than others.

"Yes." That's all you say, you just can't get it together. Your mind won't let you process anything more than you just did, apparently you're the only person who's come to the conclusion: Vander has a deal with the Enforcers. The Enforcers, who see the people of the underworld as scum.

"You're a smart boy Y/N, don't let anyone tell you otherwise." He finally says as he slowly rises from the couch across from you. His eyes follow his broad back, and somehow you can't think of anything else but:

I had only just seen his back at the time. The same back that challenged them all on the bridge with the Red smoke. So he made this deal afterwards? How many had he killed on the bridge, in the battle?

But just before he walks out, right at that moment, he stops. At the door of the room, after everything that has happened, it looks for a moment as if he is dead. Slain by the deeds and sins of all the inhabitants of Zaun. You shift slightly in your seat, your eyes fixed on his back, your mind blank, preparing for his words.

"You have potential, Y/N. Just don't waste it." He doesn't turn to you, still facing the door with his massive stature, with you still sitting on the couch anyway. "I don't care if you have too fragile a body, it's the brain that counts. The one who can use small power perfectly will win every battle."

Every battle. But for what? Is he trying to tell me something at the same time? Is something bad going to happen soon?

"By the way, you have to go into hiding, you can go into the little hiding place with the box machine. But you have to remember one thing...

No One Wins in War. " With that he's gone, a slam of the door and your view changes to a normal room without a human soul.

You forget the incident with your assignment. You think about everything that has happened in this short time. No thought escapes you, everything flows through your big memory and is spit out like a computer. It has all happened far too quickly, not only is time moving too fast, everything has happened at once, and you have the strange feeling that Vander's words will stay in your head for a long time to come.

The Corpse Parts. Magic that you could literally feel in the Academy apartment. The Spinning Weapon of the Enforcers. A secret power in this world. But everything was... connected.

But even when everything takes over your brain, you still think about Vander's statement.

No One Wins in War. War brings pain to everyone, no matter what side you are on. In the end, it doesn't matter if you win, because you still lost a lot to get there. But it's Told by Vander who has only been on the losing side of a war, plus he apparently has a deal with the Enforcers, it doesn't make any sense. No... this phrase refers to human lives, not political power. He's a pacifist, at least I think so.

Also, he doesn't necessarily have to have a deal with them, maybe I'm just thinking too much. But it would still be possible, Vander is definitely the best known from the underworld, it would make sense of all people to make a deal with him.

But after a few minutes of sitting over his statement and thinking about it until you can't do it anymore, you've figured it out.

Nobody wins, but one side loses a lot less.

You get up, rumble to your feet and look around. No one is there, the others are most likely already in the hideout, you should go there too. Before you leave, you take the book with the notes about the Corpse Parts and the Enforcer's gadget. You put on the long black coat you were already wearing when you came here, it was too big for you, but you can easily store both items in the side pocket.

Now make your way to the hiding place with the others.

---

[beecauseevan]

Thank you @oldfashionedmorphine for the cute prompt <3 <3 <3

~~~

Eddie stares at the thing he just pulled out of the cardboard box in front of him, concisely labeled "Kitchen". That makes him think it must be food-related (then again, Buck kept a ring cutter in his cutlery drawer, so who knows), but try as he might, he can't work it out. It's a bright green plastic knife, but the handle is weird—it's a grid instead of a solid surface, too wide and too flat to be comfortable to hold.

"What is this?" 

He holds it up. Buck, who's sitting across from him, glances up, shrugs, and looks back down at Christopher's textbook.

"It's an avocado cutter."

"Why do you need an avocado cutter?" Eddie asks.

Buck looks up again. "Why do you think, Eddie? Not to cut apples, that's for sure."

Eddie reaches into the box again and takes out a (much more recognizable) plastic gadget—a red plastic frame and eight blades, arranged in the middle like spokes on a wheel. "And what's this?"

"That's an apple cutter." 

Wordlessly, Eddie drops that back in the box and pulls out something long and yellow—

"Banana cutter."

—followed by something that looks exactly the same, except orange.

"Hot dog cutter," Buck says, with a smile.

"Uh huh." Eddie pulls out something purple.

"That's an onion," Buck cuts himself off, "dicer."

"An onion cutter," Eddie repeats.

"No, an onion dicer," Buck insists. "It said so on the package."

Eddie looks at the thing in his hands. It looks exactly like the apple cutter, but the blades are arranged in a grid, forming little squares instead of wedges. "What's the difference?"

Chris, sat between them and brooding over his English homework, stops chewing on his pencil just long enough to say, "It's obvious, dad. Cutters cut, dicers dice."

"It's obvious, Eddie," Buck echoes, smirking.

Eddie drops the onion cutter on the no pile, ignoring Buck's pout. 

"I don't think you should be throwing out all of my shi—" Buck cuts himself off with a glance in Chris' direction. "All of my stuff. That's not the point of moving in together. Your stuff is supposed to mingle, Eddie."

"You can say shit, you know," Chris tells them boredly. "I'm not a baby."

"Our stuff is mingling," Eddie replies, pointing his finger at Chris, a silent admonishment Chris completely ignores. "But not this stuff. I already have a banana cutter. And an onion dicer. And all the other stuff in between."

Buck looks at him skeptically. "You do?"

Eddie nods and gets up. He walks to his cutlery drawer and pulls out a single kitchen knife. "See? It cuts, it dices, and it's universal."

"It's not shaped like a banana though."

Chris chuckles and quickly dips his head when Eddie looks at him, as if he's been focused on his homework the whole time. Eddie shakes his head.

"That sounds like a good thing, if you ask me."

"I guess I won't ask you, then," Buck replies.

Eddie sits back down. He would give in (he would fill every single drawer in this house with useless gadgets if it made Buck happy) but Buck's frown is clearly not genuine—the spark in his eyes is far too obvious.

"So what you're saying is," Buck continues, "as long as it's not a cutter, it's fine."

Eddie hesitates. "Why does that feel like a dangerous thing to say yes to?"

"Live on the edge, Eddie," Buck tells him sagely, and Eddie has never been one to back down from a challenge.

"Okay."

Buck pulls the box closer to him and starts rummaging through it. He produces some things Eddie doesn't mind saying yes to—spacer rings for his rolling pin, a collapsible silicone bowl for microwave popcorn, a pizza cutter shaped like a bicycle and cupcake tins shaped like firetrucks, which are just ridiculous enough that Eddie wants to see them in action.

"See," he says, "we're mingling."

"We are," Buck confirms, and there's something in his smirk that might be bad news. Eddie has seen that smirk before. It usually precedes a rope rescue or something equally dangerous. "So if you don't have something yet, I get to keep it, yeah?"

Eddie frowns. "That was the deal."

"Okay." Buck reaches into the box between them one last time and pulls out the weirdest thing Eddie has seen all day. It's chocolate-colored and square, with a round cylinder at the back. Two arms protrude from it, made from flexible white plastic. He shakes it lightly and those arms rattle, slapping against the flat base. 

Eddie stares at it. "What on earth does that do?"

"It's a s'more maker," Buck says, tugging at one of the arms. "You put your crackers here, and your chocolate and your marshmallow, and then you put it in the microwave. And this little thing holds everything in place."

"We used it every time I stayed over at Buck's," Chris says fondly. "The s'mores taste really, really bad."

"Microwaved s'mores taste bad?" Eddie reaches out to tug at the other arm, then lets it fall back down. "Shocking."

Buck is smirking, and the thing is—Eddie knows fully well that this is a dare. He knows that Buck expects to be told to get rid of this thing, and that he would do it, gladly. And maybe that last part is why Eddie just shrugs instead.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Buck repeats, incredulously.

"Okay," Eddie confirms. "Bet we can clear some space for it."

Buck stares at him, stunned. "For real?"

Eddie reaches for Buck's hand, still holding the chocolate-colored monstrosity, and smooths his thumb across Buck's knuckles.

"It's your house too," he says simply. 

It's Buck's house too. Buck isn't renting a room from Eddie, isn't staying here as a guest. Buck is a part of this household now, of this family. If he wants to make s'mores in their microwave, he doesn't need Eddie's permission.

Buck's eyes speak volumes. Later, when they're alone, Buck will kiss Eddie for this, hard enough that Eddie forgets about everything else. For now, he just flips his hand so he can lace their fingers together, Buck's a little longer than Eddie's but calloused in all the same places. 

Chris catches one glimpse of them and rolls his eyes, burying his face in his homework, but he's smiling too.

"Okay," Buck says quietly. "Okay. But I am getting rid of it. Chris is right. The s'mores are really bad."

"Could take it to work," Eddie says after a moment, when his brain is no longer too flooded with love to work properly. "Show it to Bobby."

"He'll disown me."

"Yeah, maybe. But his face would be worth it."

Buck's smile grows into a smirk, bright and devastating. He mouths the next words, for Chris' sake, but Eddie has heard them so many times by now that his brain fills in the gaps, that he hears Buck's voice as he reads Buck's lips: I love you.

"I know you do," Eddie replies. It takes one pout, and then he breaks. He mouths back, trusting Buck to be able to read him just as easily: I love you more.

"You two are embarrassing," Chris tells them. "And we're keeping the s'mores maker. I like it."

Just like that, it's settled.

[ravioliet]

alright so i don't have any drawings to post for this yet, but as promised here's my explanation for that Odd Squad Glitch Techs au i mentioned the other day!!!

lots of yapping under the cut, i am very bad at summarizing things but. i tried

ok so basically. i realized that both shows involve kids solving weird problems and anomalies and whatnot and i thought it would be fun to turn the odd squad kids into techs! and it's really silly how well a lot of this stuff translates over lol. it's just odd problems but video game themed

so basically to start off the season one gang is pretty much the same but the roles have shifted around slightly, i have a whole rewrite plotted out for GT episode one where Otto is basically both Five and Miko (mostly Five though tbh) and there's the whole contest and everything. Mitch is Oren but like if he was worse at his job. i guess. less of a hard worker at least. Olive is also there despite already being a tech but y'know. but basically she and Otto pull the thing where they sorta team up or at least help each other out a bit because neither of them like Oren but like in the actual episode the game glitches and Olive gets pulled out of the game to fight the glitch, and while everyone is distracted Oren just resets Otto because he's a sore loser and doesn't want to admit he was losing to someone who's not even a tech. a little bit of time goes by and at some point Olive runs into Otto again while catching a glitch and he helps her defeat it, and afterwards she's like "oh hey you're that kid from the competition!" and Otto, who doesn't remember any of that, is like "lol what competition? :)" and Olive is suspicious now so she pretty much just drags him back to hq with her and then things happen and he gets the job and stuff hooray!

also some other notes

Oscar is like the support guy! he probably knows how to hack some stuff but mainly he just invents things and fixes people's gauntlets and such. hinobi tech support's tech support. if you will

glitch modder Todd!!!!!! he's literally a glitch modder you gotta believe me. same as in canon he got too bored with his job and started causing problems on purpose but specifically, he started modding glitches to raise their difficulty level to make them more entertaining, which then turned into just modding them in general and then into causing glitches on purpose. the pienado was a modded glitch of his, he took the original glitch which came from some sort of like. candy crush type mobile game i imagine. and made it more powerful than it should have been. so yeah Olive is also scared of pies here

Todd is also immune to resets Miko style because it makes him a bigger threat

the pirate-itis episode was a possessor glitch that was slowly taking over Olive. because i think that would be neat idk

the season two kids are here too!!! Olympia is still a big fan of the glitch techs and also Olive, despite the fact that she's. not really supposed to know they exist. she saw Olive take down a glitch one time and somehow avoided being reset afterwards. she's not interested in like exposing their existence or anything though she just really really wants to join and eventually she gets recruited and is absolutely overjoyed

as for Otis, he is still a former villain but in this case he's specifically a former hacker. Brother Quack is his actual human older brother who raised him and was also the leader of a hacking/modding group that was very against the Hinobi techs. at some point they start messing around with creating actual harmful glitches that could cause some serious harm and Otis decides that things have officially crossed the line and like in canon he runs to Ms. O for help. his brother doesn't remember the betrayal anymore but Otis avoids him anyway because guilt and also because he's afraid that he might remember at some point. tragic siblings moment

Drop Gadget Repeat still happens but it's not a literal time loop, it's a mapper glitch of some sort of puzzle game that Oona gets trapped in, and she can't get out until she beats the whole game but she's stuck on the last level so she calls in Olympia and Otis to help. it's one of those timed puzzles where the level gets reset when the timer runs out and they're all struggling. eventually they figure it out with teamwork though so yippee!

6:00 to 6:05 is something similar to that as well i think

Ocean is the pet guy kinda. because it's silly :)

anyways yea! silly secret agents show moments i love both of these shows so of course i had to put them in the blender together lol. i'll design the characters eventually, i have some ideas in mind already :3

[biblomaniac]

Courage 10/02

Courage.

“Strength in the face of pain or grief.”

Kara built her courage. Welded it from the molten rubble of Krypton. Forged in the icy depths of the Phantom Zone. Fabricated it with the bare thread of humanity she hid behind.

Courage was difficult. Tiring. Worthless without hope to compel it. Kara’s hope had long run out. It fizzled out the moment Lena stepped through that portal leaving her encased in the poisonous remains of her home world.

After the melancholy of Lena’s betrayal came the anger. Over the passing months, the anger mellowed into disappointment and resentment. At Lena, her friends, her family, and herself most of all.

There was no reason to truly uphold the facade anymore. Lena was the last person close to her who didn’t know. Everyone else was just passing faces in the night, none so important as to truly hide herself from.

She moved through the days automatically. Wake up, dress, go to work at CatCo, be Supergirl, return home, sleep, and repeat. Game nights and trips to Al’s stopped. Sending silly texts with numerous emojis and gifs of cute animals trickled to nothing.

“Kara, you need to move on. I get that you’re disappointed about Lena, I do. But she showed her true colors. She’s a Luther through and through-“

“Get out,” the blonde said. Her voice was flat, emotionless.

Shocked at the swift dismissal, Alex paused her rant, “What?”

Kara’s tone left no room for argument, “I’m sick of everyone placating me with false truths. Yes, she hurt me, but she’s not evil. She’s hurting, and I’m that one that caused it. So don’t sit here and lecture me about my feelings as if you understand anything about this.”

“You know what? Fine. Don’t come crying to me the next time she breaks your heart.” With that parting remark, Alex turns on her heel, exiting the apartment.

She’ll never understand. I was too much of a coward, and I hurt the person I love the most. So much for the Paragon of Hope.

———————————

Another day, another failed attempt to pick up the shattered pieces of her life.

Non Nocere was a failure. She was a fool to believe she could neutralize humanity’s inclination to anger, hurt, and violence. Lex, as always, was a madman intent to make the world suppliant to him or watch it burn.

Lena had had enough. There was no point running from the truth. She had been rash; too quick to anger and too slow to forgiveness.

At first, it was the spitting anger. Lena thought there was no way in hell she could ever forgive Supergirl for lying to her. After months of isolation and intense introspection, the embarrassment of her actions kept her from reaching out to Kara.

Taking another sip from tumbler in her hand, Lena resumed her work with the soldering iron. All she had now was whisky and her tech. It wasn’t much, but she could survive with it if she had to.

One of the biggest downsides to Earth Prime was having to reinvent copious amounts of projects she had completed on Earth-38. The scientist found herself lost in the long process of reengineering the gadgets.

Unfortunately, it seems she may have slipped a bit too far into her mind. It takes a moment too long for her brain to register the burning pain ripping across her hand as the conical tip slices through the flesh of her palm.

“FUCK,” Lena exclaims, dropping the tool onto the table.

She stumbles out of her chair gripping her wrist in shock, staring wide eyed at the blood welling rapidly from her hand. The pain and alcohol release a shockwave of pint up frustration and fear. Tears begin to flow her eyes from what feels like an endless chasm of misery.

Her knees buckle, sending her down to the cold tile of her private home office. She makes no attempt to stem the bleeding, no attempt to rise from the ground. She just sits there, watching as the pain and turmoil of the last year becomes physical manifest.

———————————————

Supergirl is completing her final round of patrol for the day when she hears it.

“FUCK!”

Kara halts her flight, tuning her hearing completely to Lena. She hears a crash, a thump, and the beginning of broken sobs. In the next second, she’s immediately soaring through the sky towards the penthouse.

At the balcony, she pauses momentarily. It’s been months since she was last here. Lena has made it more than clear that Kara isn’t welcome, but the need to make sure the brunette is okay dwarfs the concerns for the long-term consequences of her actions. Kara grabs the handle, popping the door from its lock and sliding it open.

Lena is going to be so pissed at me. I’ll have to come back to fix this later.

The brunettes sobs are even louder now. It makes her Kryptonian heart race at the thought that something terrible has happened. Moving through the austere home, she audibly locates Lena in her lab. Once again, the closed door is gently forced open.

The first thing her eyes focus on is the red painting the white table, then her eyes move to the crumpled form just feet away. The hero speeds over, crouching low to examine her ex-friend.

“Lena?! What wrong?” She asks quickly, hands hovering above the shaking form.

Watery emerald eyes, focusing on Kara’s form as the emotional woman chokes on a sob.

“K-Kara? What are you doing here?” She asked confusedly, shielding one had close to her midsection.

“I heard you cuss, and a crash. I thought something terrible had happened. Where is that blood coming from?” She questions, worried Lena is hiding a wound in her abdomen.

Wiping her tears with a shaky hand, Lena protests the attention, “What do you care? Just me alone.”

Kara’s not taken aback. It’s been nearly a year of this bitter back and forth between them. But this time, she’s not going to run at the first round of dismissal.

“No. You’re hurt. I can’t leave until I know you’re okay.”

A wet laugh escapes Lena’s throat. “That’s rich coming from you. You’ve left even other time, why’s this one different?”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Every time I tried to reconcile you’ve shut me down and turned me away—“

The alcohol and blood loss must have been getting to her, because under no other circumstance could Lena imagine having the courage to be truthful after all this time.

“Because you hurt me! I let you have the power to hurt me. You never felt bad about it, just moved on with life as usual until I betrayed you. And once the anger turned to doubt I was too cowardly to apologize…”

She’s sorry? Oh Rao, she doesn’t hate me! I can fix this, fix us. I can make us right again!

“It’s okay…I shouldn’t have lied, and I should never have just moved on as if nothing had happened. It’s my biggest regret, Lena. Let me help you, and then we can…we can fix us,” the blonde clasps her hands her counterparts gently pulling her arms away from her stomach.

Lena hisses through her teeth trying to shield her hand from any further pain. Now that Kara can clearly see the wound, she internally lets out a sigh of relief that it’s just her hand, and not anything internal. Sucking on a breath, she blows a stream of cool air onto the cut, covering the hand in a thin layer of frost.

“That should help for a moment. I’ll get some bandages okay?”

She doesn’t wait for a respond before using her X-Ray vision to locate the first aid kit in the closet by the wall. Within minutes, Lena’s hand is cleaned, medicated and bandaged.

Lena watches silently. The fight has drained out of her and the overwhelming loss of Kara is soothed slightly as the hero tenderly cares for her.

“There, all better.” Kara announces quietly, giving Lena a shaky smile.

A single tear slips from a jade eye, “I’m so tired. So sick of feeling broken,” she croaks.

A tanned thumb wipes it away before softly rubbing a pale cheek. “So am I, but I never felt broken with you, Lena. Can we just, can we go back to what we had?”

Jade eyes hide behind pale lids. “I don’t want what we had.” She whispers.

“What, what do you want?” The blonde asks shakily.

Turning her head away, Lena confesses, “I’m scared.”

“Of me?” she asks, thinly veiled horror in her voice.

Shaking her head, “Of what I want.”

“What do you want, Lena?”

“I want you.”

Courage was difficult. Tiring. Worthless without hope to compel it. But now? Kara’s hope was sparked anew. It fizzled to life as Kara leaned forward pressing a lasting kiss to the apple of Lena’s cheek.

“I want you too, always.”

[eowyntheavenger]

By Emily Strasser | August 9, 2023

At the theater where I saw Oppenheimer on opening night, there was a handmade photo booth featuring a pink backdrop, “Barbenheimer” in black letters, and a “bomb” made of an exercise ball wrapped in hoses. I want to tell you that I flinched, but I laughed and snapped a photo. It took a beat before I became horrified—by myself and the prop. Today is the 78th anniversary of the bombing of Nagasaki, which killed up to 70,000 people and came only three days after the bombing of Hiroshima that killed as many as 140,000 people. Yet still we make jokes of these weapons of genocide.

Oppenheimer does not make a joke of nuclear weapons, but by erasing the specific victims of the bombings, it repeats a sanitized treatment of the bomb that enables a lighthearted attitude and limits the power of the film’s message. I know this sanitized version intimately, because my grandfather spent his career building nuclear weapons in Oak Ridge, Tennessee, the site of uranium enrichment for the Hiroshima bomb. My grandfather died before I was born, and though there were photographs of mushroom clouds from nuclear tests hanging on my grandmother’s walls, we never discussed Hiroshima, Nagasaki, or the fact that Oak Ridge, still an active nuclear weapons production site, is also a 35,000-acre Superfund site. At the Catholic church in town, a pious Mary stands atop an orb bearing the overlapping ovals symbolizing the atom, and until it closed a few years ago, a local restaurant displayed a sign with a mushroom cloud bursting out of a mug of beer.

Oppenheimer does not show a single image of Hiroshima or Nagasaki. Instead, it recreates the horror through Oppenheimer’s imagination, when, during a congratulatory speech to the scientists of Los Alamos after the bombing of Hiroshima, the sound of the hysterically cheering crowd goes silent, the room flashes bright, and tatters of skin peel from the face of a white woman in the audience. The scene is powerful and unsettling, and, arguably, avoids sensationalizing the atrocity by not depicting the victims outright. But it also plays into a problematic pattern of whitewashing both the history and threat of nuclear war by appropriating the trauma of the Japanese victims to incite fear about possible future violence upon white bodies. An example of this pattern is a 1948 cover of John Hersey’s Hiroshima, which featured a white couple fleeing a city beneath a glowing orange sky, even though the book itself brought the visceral human suffering to American readers through the eyes of six actual survivors of the bombing.

The Oppenheimer film also neglects the impacts of fallout from nuclear testing, including from the Trinity test depicted in the film; the harm to the health of blue-collar production workers exposed to toxic and radiological materials; and the contamination of Oak Ridge and other production sites. Instead, the impressive pyrotechnics of the Trinity test, images of missile trails descending through clouds toward a doomed planet, and Earth-consuming fireballs interspersed with digital renderings of a quantum universe of swirling stars and atoms, elevate the bomb to the realm of the sublime—terrible, yes, but also awesome.

A compartmentalized project. The origins of this treatment can be traced to the Manhattan Project, when scientists called the bomb by the euphemistic code word “gadget” and the security policy known as compartmentalization limited workers’ knowledge of the project to the minimum necessary to complete their tasks. This policy helped to dilute responsibility and quash moral debates and dissent. Throughout the film, we see Oppenheimer move from resisting compartmentalization to accepting it. When asked by another scientist about his stance on a petition against dropping the bomb on Japan, he responds that the builders of the bomb do not have “any more right or responsibility” than anyone else to determine how it will be used, despite the fact that the scientists were among the few who even knew of its existence.

Due to compartmentalization, the vast majority of the approximately half-million Manhattan Project workers, like my grandfather, could not have signed the petition because they did not know what they were building until Truman announced the bombing of Hiroshima. Afterward, press restrictions limited coverage of the humanitarian impacts, giving the false impression that the bombings had targeted major military and industrial sites—and eliding the vast civilian toll and the novel horrors of radiation. Photographs and films of the aftermath, shot by Japanese journalists and American military, were classified and suppressed in the United States and occupied Japan.

The limit of theory. Not only is it dishonest and harmful to erase the suffering of the real victims of the bomb, but doing so moves the bomb into the realm of the theoretical and abstract. One recurring theme of the film is the limit of theory. Oppenheimer was a brilliant theorist but a haphazard experimentalist. A close friend and fellow scientist questions whether he’ll be able to pull off this massive, high-stakes project of applied theory. Just before the detonation of the Trinity test bomb, General Leslie Groves, the military head of the project, asks Oppenheimer about a joking bet overheard among the scientists regarding the possibility that the explosion would ignite the atmosphere and destroy the world. Oppenheimer assures Groves that they have done the math and the possibility is “near zero.” “Near zero?” Groves asks, alarmed. “What do you want from theory alone?” responds Oppenheimer.

Can the theoretical motivate humanity to action?

One telling scene shows Oppenheimer at a lecture on the impacts of the bomb. We hear the speaker describe how dark stripes on victims’ clothing were burned onto their skin, but the camera remains on Oppenheimer’s face. He looks at the screen, gaunt and glassy-eyed, for a few moments, before turning away. Americans are still looking away. As a country, we’ve succumbed to “psychic numbing,” as Robert Jay Lifton and Greg Mitchell call it in their book Hiroshima in America, which leads to general apathy about nuclear weapons—and pink mushroom clouds and bomb props for selfies.

On this anniversary of Nagasaki, the world stands on a precipice, closer than ever to nuclear midnight. The nine nuclear-armed states collectively possess more than 12,500 warheads; the more than 9,500 nuclear weapons available for use in military stockpiles have the combined power of more than 135,000 Hiroshima-sized bombs.

If Oppenheimer motivates conversation, activism, and policy shifts in support of nuclear abolition, that’s a good thing. But by relegating the bomb to abstracted images removed from actual humanitarian consequences, the film leaves the weapon in the realm of the theoretical. And as Oppenheimer says in the film, “theory will only take you so far.” Today, it’s vital that we understand the devastating impacts that nuclear weapons have had and continue to have on real victims of their production, testing, and wartime use. Our survival may depend on it.

[invalidstories]

Hiii!! I saw that you wanted some snippet requests? I’m not sure what tropes you love but hopefully you’ll like it! What about a hero agency that offers reformation programs for villains, and even though they say they’re so “forgiving” that turns out to be a lie. Sooo can you write about a hero noticing some of the foul play and taking a younger villain under their wing? Kinda like a mentor almost :D

Idk this has been buzzing around my head for a while now and I’d love to see whatever you do with it! 💗💕

Lies of Reformation

Ooh this was interesting to write. Sorry it took so long, I saw your request twice but my writing wasn't writing. Hope you like it!

Warnings: Mentions of disappearance and experimenting

The hero sat at their desk, the glow of their computer screen casting harsh shadows across the room. They were supposed to be reviewing mission reports, but their mind kept wandering back to the files they’d stumbled across earlier. Files that didn’t add up. Files that made their stomach churn.

The agency’s reformation program was supposed to be a beacon of hope, a second chance for villains who wanted to turn their lives around. But the numbers didn’t lie. Of the dozens of villains who had entered the program, only a handful had “graduated.” The rest… well, the rest had simply disappeared. Officially, they’d dropped out or relocated. Unofficially, the hero wasn’t so sure.

A knock at their door pulled them from their thoughts. “Come in,” they called, closing the files quickly.

The door opened, and a young villain—no, a kid—stepped inside. They couldn’t have been older than seventeen, their face still round with youth, their eyes wide and nervous. They wore the standard-issue uniform of the reformation program, the bright white fabric looking out of place against their hunched shoulders.

“Uh, they said I should report to you,” the kid mumbled, avoiding eye contact. “For, uh, mentorship or whatever.”

The hero’s chest tightened. They’d heard about this one—a rookie villain who’d gotten in over their head, caught trying to rob a bank with nothing but a homemade gadget and a lot of bravado. The agency had scooped them up, touting the reformation program as their salvation. But now, seeing the kid up close, the hero couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being fed to the wolves.

“What’s your name?” the hero asked, their voice softer than they intended.

The kid hesitated. “They call me Spark.”

“Spark,” the hero repeated, nodding. “I’m—”

“I know who you are,” Spark interrupted, their voice tinged with awe. “You’re, like, the agency’s golden child.”

The hero winced at the title. Golden child. Right. If only Spark knew how tarnished that gold really was.

“Sit down,” the hero said, gesturing to the chair across from them. Spark obeyed, perching on the edge of the seat like they were ready to bolt at any moment. “How long have you been in the program?”

“A week,” Spark said, fidgeting with the hem of their sleeve. “It’s… not what I expected.”

The hero leaned forward, their voice dropping to a whisper. “What do you mean?”

Spark glanced at the door, then back at the hero. “I don’t know. It’s just… they keep asking me all these questions. About my powers, my past, my family. And they’re always watching. Like, always. It’s creepy.”

The hero’s jaw tightened. That wasn’t part of the program. At least, not the program they’d been told about.

“Have they… done anything else?” the hero asked carefully.

Spark hesitated, then shook their head. “Not yet. But I heard things. About the others. The ones who didn’t make it.”

The hero’s stomach dropped. “What did you hear?”

Spark’s voice was barely audible. “That they’re not really gone. That the agency… does things to them. Experiments or something. I don’t know. Maybe it’s just rumors, but…” They trailed off, their hands trembling.

The hero stood abruptly, their chair scraping against the floor. “Come with me.”

Spark blinked up at them. “What? Where?”

“Somewhere safe,” the hero said, grabbing their coat. “You’re not staying here.”

“But… the program. They said it’s my only chance.”

The hero knelt in front of Spark, their expression fierce. “Listen to me. You don’t need their program. You don’t need their lies. If you want to change, if you want to be better, I’ll help you. But not like this. Not here.”

Spark stared at them, their eyes wide with a mix of fear and hope. “Why? Why would you help me?”

The hero’s gaze softened. “Because someone has to. And because… I think I’ve been on the wrong side for too long.”

As they led Spark out of the office and into the night, the hero couldn’t shake the weight of what they were doing. They were breaking every rule, risking everything. But for the first time in a long time, they felt like they were doing something right.

Masterlist

[quantumlogician]

It was mid-afternoon. The lone sun of this single star system hung lazily in the pit of the sky, dragging over the circumference in its slow descent towards the horizon. After vorns of desolation away from living Cybertronian kind, the atmosphere healed over: thick smoke stacks of ever-burning factories dissipated, and the orange hazy smog that once layered thick the entirety of Kaon vanished. Mid-day heat was no longer a sweltering, miserable affair that burned into top plating and seeped right into the groves and seams.

Shockwave finds that traveling through the city and its perimeter to be less taxing on his frame. Before, it was impossible to step outside and return without a layer of ash and dust veiling his featureless mask for a face, obscuring his already limited vision. Now, he was granted full visibility well over 20 meters on his forward path, bypassing the need to waste power on directional sensors. Clearing the full length of Neo-Kaon, he crossed over the border to travel down into a neighboring land: the Deadman's. An entire sector carved out into a straight fixture of mining facilities entrenched into the topography of the desert.

What was once empty flatlands now steeply dropped into a subsurface plateau. A sophisticated network of tunnels and refineries winding even deeper than what could be seen.

Stepping dangerously close to the corner edge, the logician peered down into the caverns, casting a wide glance over the forgotten architecture that forever sleeps in this hole. He could still hear the loud crash-bang of the drill pips dropping their full weight into the pits with their strapped pulleys laboring them up the derrick for another plunge.

His destination lies within the middle building, beyond the refinery, and deep into the caverns itself. There existed no functional electric grid, leaving the facility to lay dead as Shockwave passed through it, forcing him to cram a crowbar into air-tight locks and break the seals for prohibited entry. There exists enough strength in his only working arm to jam the curved end of his tool into hydraulic doors and pry them open wide for his broad form to slip through. He repeated this process several times before he dipped into the actual mineral deposit. No need for any gadget to ping the strong, chemical scent of raw energon that his own starved body could recognize.

A faint iridescent glow shined over one of the drops in this cavern, leading Shockwave towards it. He only intended to carve a sizable batch to synthesize for a half vorn. At least, he had outlined this straightforward plan up until he crossed the threshold of when the glow saturated the cavern walls to meet a dark rigid shape disturbing the ethereal ambience.

There was no mistake — it was a bot. Shockwave couldn't discern any visual specifics other than they were present and it appears they were not a new arrival, on account of their lax, non-urgent frame language.

Cradling what meager amount he managed to gather into a single servo, he ripped his vocoder to life with an alerting scratch before his voice projected from it, " what are you doing here? "

Closed — @doddering-egoist

[nixshiimin]

⭑.ᐟ : StrayKids with dc Characters :>

｡𖦹 : I loved this a bit too much.. / mentions of crashing, DC!AU, swearing, NSFW at Seungmin's part lmk if I missed something :]

Word count : ???

. B.C

He would definitely hang out with batman. I stand with that.

They would get along so well.. until Channie crashes the batmobile T_T

Definitely the type to wear bats his costume and then say it stinks due to batman his sweat.

"Do you even wash this thing..?"

Bruce will be so fed up, but hey, he raised so many kids. He can withstand it all.

Will definitely talk about how raising kids is hard .

Chan will also steal batman his gadgets, and one of them ends up almost exploding ! ×o×.

. L.MH

Catwoman. (Act surprised)

He will ask if she's an actual cat and he will be disappointed when she says that she's an human being like him.

"Why are you called catwoman if you aren't even a cat?"

Selina will teach leeKnow how to steal, and he will be so proud after he robbed someone until he realizes that he literally robbed someone and gave them a trauma.

Selina is not surprised when he mentions that he has 3 cats himself and even shows pictures and shit.

Definitely hang out a lot in cat cafés

. S.C

Surprise, surprise...superman! Who could've known. ^^

Binnie will definitely ask for his workout routine.

Clark is honestly impressed by Binnie his body. (Slightly jealous aswell)

Bin offers Clark a protein shake and he loves it (he doesn't but he can't make binnie sad)

"You are so strong, holy fuck. I don't know if I want to be with you or be you"

Definitely go to the gym together and impress everyone.

Shy binnie gets flustered when Clark gives him compliments about his body or him in general. ּ ֶָ֢.

. H.H

I have multiple for jinnie so let's talk about them!! ; poison ivy, batgirl, katana, starfire or raven :>

I think I'm going to talk about raven for now!

He will be so fascinated about her and will truly listen to her.

Raven will be so grateful that he is quiet and not loud af (even tho he can be loud at times)

They understand each other, and they both appreciate it.

I can see hyunjin painting raven when she is meditating, yun trying to paint very slowly until he drops his paintbrush on accident >_<.

He will be so sorry while raven comforts him, saying it's okay (he feels so guilty)

"I'm so sorry! I'm okay with buying lunch for us? I insist!"

. H.J

the flash [:

Now listen, they really share the same braincell. (And humor).

I bet han doesn't believe he's the fastest human alive and asks him to get stuff from other countries .

"If you're so fast..get me a water bottle from America!"

"Okay.. I believe you..for now"

Barry and Han hang out a lot (trust), they go literally everywhere Han hasn't been. (Certain countries, etc).

They game. A lot. With so many snacks from different places (Han's idea).

Finds it interesting how Han can sleep everywhere and even does research about him.

L.YB

I think he would also hangout with the flash or starfire !!

The flash and Felix would definitely match eachothers energy but I think barry fitted better with hannie!

Felix screams starfire vibes.

Star would ask so much about Felix and how he lives, etc.

Felix? He would do the exact same .

They would spend the day shopping and doing girl things idc they deff would.

Felix would show star things he likes to do and she copies him!

"So you have laser eyes? fucking awesome?!"

Best friends, maybe even family :>

K.SM

I'm lowkey biased with this but..JASON FUCKING TODD.

SKIP IF UNCOMFORTABLE

Imagine AK!Jason and seungmin just degrading you like you are their little toy >< you are their hole for them to use!

Doggy lovers at it's finest.

MANHANDLING I REPEAT MANHANDLING.!!!

Aftercare is so sweet, they shower you with so much kisses and praise.

"You took us so well, hm? " FUCK.

SFW

Definitely go on a killing spree for fun.

They act like THOSE teenage boys you see at the mall yk.

They are so sweet behind the scenes tho.

Jason Definitely teaches seungmin about fighting and stuff .

. Y.J

Robin or nightwing :>

Dick will show I.N all the flaws of becoming a superhero and will even show him the batcave if he wants to!!

Best buddies, and you can't convince me not.

they fight crime together, like real brothers :)

"Im so bad at this nightwing"

"You'll get it, don't worry Jeongin."

BROTHERS4LIFE, AND YOU CANNOT TAKE THAT AWAY FROM ME