#he’s about to retire

[rye-kin]

More Jekyll in his 40s that NOBODY asked for…

<333

[irafook]

Ok, but listen. Harry goes back in time and decides to get rid of Tom Riddle AU, but the sorting hat goes like ??? when it reads Harry's mind. Idk it just irks me how the sorting hat is so understanding in most time travel fics, at best it puts Harry in a house he didn't want to be. But just imagine if it actually tells on Harry, full great hall drama with the hat going like "HE'S HERE TO MURDER SOMEONE"

And ofc Tom is instantly obsessed with the murder boy.

Extra:

(ofc the poor hat is not broken, it's on the verge of a nervous breakdown)

[beastlyidiocy]

my sweet old man who is genuinely too kind for the world he lives in :(

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Writing Prompt #5

Damian does not glance back at Bruce when he knocks on the door. Instead they both wait in silence.

After a moment, the door opens.

"Hello," Jasmine, Jazz, Fenton greets politely, unsurprised to find the Waynes on her doorstep. Damian's expression grows ever darker at this revelation.

"Hello Ms. Fenton, are your parents home?" Bruce asks, placing a firm hand on Damian's shoulder, to ground as much as to restrain. To his credit he does not shake it off.

"No, they're out of town for a conference," the eighteen year-old says, opening the door wider. "But I think you'd better come in."

Bruce would normally decline, but Ms. Fenton is a legal adult and he has already, even unknowingly, waited 16 years. Damian makes the choice for him, striding past the threshold.

"Please take a seat," Jazz says as she leads them to the living room. She ignores Damian's swinging head as he takes in the home. It is deceptively large, a 90s style house filled with modern furniture. The walls are bright, with purple and green accents that would normally feel garish but somehow work. The stairs leading to the second floor are lined with family photos that Bruce yearns to take a closer look at. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?"

"No, that's alright, thank you," Bruce says, taking a seat on the long plush couch. A men's windbreaker lies haphazardly thrown across one of the arms. A closed container of Oreo cookies sit on the coffee table next to a physics textbook open to chapter 16, half covered in highlighter and filled with sticky notes. There's a child's painting framed next to the tv, a handprint made to look like a thanksgiving turkey in bright blue.

For the home of experimental scientists, it is cozy and well lived-in.

Damian repeatedly glances at the stairs through the doorway.

Bruce clears his throat. "We were hoping to--"

"I've texted--oh, I'm sorry," Jazz says, having spoken at the same time. Bruce gestures for her to go on.

"I've contacted Danny, he should be here soon. He was out with some friends." Jazz explains. As she hadn't pulled out a phone in their presence, Bruce can only deduce they have some sort of camera at their front door. This also explains Ms. Fenton's complete lack of surprise at their appearance.

"So you know who we are." Damian says, the first words he's spoken since they arrived at the house and the longest sentence he's spoken since they arrived in Amity Park.

"I do," Jazz says, calm in the face of Damian's clearly simmering anger. Bruce trusts him not to attack Ms. Fenton, but he still watches him carefully.

"He told you about me," Damian says. It is the same question, but it is also not.

"He did," Jazz says.

Damian swallows. "I see," he grits out.

Jazz's neutrality slips and her face softens in sympathy. "Damian," she starts hesitantly, but before she can say anything else the front door opens.

A moment later Bruce's son walks through the doorway, and Damian is on him.

This is what Bruce hoped to prevent, but despite his numerous checks of Damian's luggage his son has still managed to smuggle a small dagger, which he now produces and swings in a calculated arc at Daniel Fenton's jugular.

Danny dodges cleanly, and dodges every swipe thereafter in a manner that speaks to continued practice long after his time at the League. Damian is a perfect product of his training, but it is up against Danny his flaws come to light. He is just as good as he always was, but Danny is better.

In a matter of seconds Damian grows frustrated and sloppy in his attacks, completely atypical for him. Danny takes Damian out at the knees and pins him down with one arm, pressing his face into the carpet.

"Calm down," he orders. His voice is deeper than Damian's at sixteen to his twelve, the accent that still traces Damian's words completely gone from his speech. Damian growls and thrusts his head back into Danny's face, meeting it with a sharp thunk. He rolls up as Danny recoils, putting distance between them. Danny glares at him from several steps away, hand to his forehead. Damian tosses the dagger into his other hand as he charges, and to Bruce's surprise Danny does nothing more than turn his face to the side, allowing Damian to draw a sharp line down his cheek.

Damian stops dead in his tracks.

"Are you done?" Danny asks, blood beginning to pool at the seam of the cut.

Damian's expression is stricken, eyes stuck on the blood starting to drip down his brother's face.

"I said, are you done, Damian?" Danny asks. His voice is cold.

Damian hears him this time, and he flushes red. "I--you--"

Danny sighs. He looks at Jazz, whose expression is back to carefully controlled.

"Are you alright?" he asks her. She nods.

"You left me," Damian accuses, standing there holding his bloody dagger limply.

Danny turns back to him, raising an eyebrow.

"You left me," Damian repeats louder, rapidly blinking.

"Yes. I did." Danny provides no excuse nor any explanation. His stance is unyielding.

Damian's eyes bounce wildly, shifting to Jazz and Danny slides smoothly in front of her, protectively. He looks at Damian warily, not as if he is his brother, but as if he is a danger. Damian flinches.

Hope is the last to die, Bruce thinks, watching as that last bit of hope Damian had is extinguished, the knowledge working its way through every inch of his body like ice in his veins. His eyes darken. He turns and runs from the room, the front door slamming shut not a moment later.

Jazz stands up, pulling a few tissues from the box on the coffee table. She presses them to Danny's face, cupping his cheek until he holds it himself. "I'm going to go get the first aid kit," she says gently. It is a thinly veiled excuse to leave them alone, and Bruce is grateful for it as she heads for the stairs.

They both wait until her footsteps have faded, taking each other in. Bruce looks at his mother's eyes and the sharp turn of Talia's nose. Damian's everything, four years older.

"You shouldn't have come here," Danny says, throwing himself on the armchair Jazz has just vacated.

"You know who I am," Bruce says carefully.

Danny glares. "I've kept your secret. She nor my parents know."

"I know," Bruce says. "That's not what I meant. You know who I am. And who I pretend to be. So you know I am familiar with masks."

"And?" Danny asks, looking vaguely bored.

"And so I can recognize when someone is wearing one. Damian will too, once he's calmed down."

Danny's expression sharpens. "No, he won't. Because you are going to go to back to whatever bed and breakfast you're staying in, pack up, hop in your private jet and fly him back to Gotham immediately before the League realizes you've gone. If they haven't already," he mutters.

"This is about the League then," Bruce says. "Do you not believe I can protect you?"

"I don't need your protection," Danny snaps, and watches Bruce actively extrapolate with a dawning resignation. "So this is the World's Greatest Detective at work," he says, slumping bonelessly into his chair, the first teenager-y thing he's done.

"Damian's in danger from the League," Bruce says. Danny glares from his slump. It's almost cute. "And as long as the League doesn't know about you, he's safe."

"Draw your own conclusions," Danny says, baring his teeth. Damian often makes the same face. "As long as you leave."

"I can protect him. I can protect you both," Bruce says. "Let me help you."

Danny closes his eyes. He centers his breathing in an exercise someone has clearly walked him through in the past. Bruce would bet money on the adoptive sister waiting patiently upstairs.

"Mr. Wayne. You are not my father," he says. "My trust in you extends to the point that I left Damian in your care, but that is where it ends. And that was when it was sanctioned by the League. By coming here you have endangered those sanctions."

Bruce disregards the sting, doubling down on his analysis. Talia had left Damian with Bruce well after Danny had left the League. But Danny speaks as if the decision had been his.

Or perhaps, Bruce realizes, it is not that Danny decided upon it, but that Danny allowed it to continue.

Bruce takes a second to review what Oracle had gone over with him before they left for Amity. Daniel Fenton had by all accounts, since leaving the League, lived a fairly normal life. His adoptive parents were eccentric scientists dabbling in the occult but their findings that bordered pseudoscience circulated a very niche community of like-minded eccentrics. The bulk of their income came from alternative energy, a more viable source of study that they'd veered harder into in the past year or so, a government contract with the EPA currently in the works. This had in part funded a vacation to an all-inclusive resort the family had taken that past summer.

Danny received average grades in school, above average in science and mathematics, declining sharply in his freshman year and sophomore year before evening out around the second semester. He had gotten into fights repeatedly with one student in particular, suspended for two weeks following an incident that resulted in a the student receiving a black eye. Teachers reported him to be highly intelligent but distracted and removed. They had recommended he be evaluated for an attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder. He had no social media. He had missed multiple picture days. The ones he had attended he was sneezing, or a blur of movement, even going so far as to fall off his stool, legs flailing. Bruce had drank up every last one as Barbara had waited patiently.

A normal life. A family vacation to Bermuda. Average grades.

His freshman year, distracted and removed. The same year Damian had arrived at Bruce's home. Masks upon masks.

"You have informants within the League," Bruce says. Danny, to his credit, has no discernible tell. But there is no other explanation. "What will you do, if they find out you are alive?"

"That is none of your concern," Danny says, but he might as well be saying whatever I have to.

He never stopped practicing, after all.

"If they go after Damian, it is my concern."

"And that is why you need to take Damian back to Gotham before they do." Danny says. "I will take care of it."

Damian had barely spoken since he had realized Danyal was alive. But Bruce had seen the reverence in his eyes as he looked at the file.

"الوريث الصحيح" he had murmured. The rightful heir.

"You are proposing going after the entirety of the League with no backup," Bruce says. "Even if you think they won't kill you, you won't win either."

"Maybe they will," Danny says lightly. "Kill me. That would also work."

Bruce inhales sharply. "Danny," he starts.

"Go home, Mr. Wayne," Danny says, pushing himself up with one hand. The other still clutches the wad of tissue to his cheek, partially soaked with blood. "Go take care of your son."

"I'll go," Bruce says, "I'll take him to the Watchtower. And then I'll come back."

"Mr. Wayne-"

"I should've come for you," Bruce interrupts. "Sixteen years ago. I should've come for you."

Danny's brow furrows. "You had no idea I existed."

"But if I had. I would've come. I never would've left you there. And now that I know, I am not leaving you now."

For the first time Bruce watches Danny be completely caught off guard. He openly gapes at Bruce.

"You would've died," Danny lands on, voice thin. "They would've killed you."

"Unlike you, I would've brought backup." Bruce says, mimicking Danny's lightness.

He's lying. Sixteen years ago he would've thrown himself at the League to save his newborn son without a plan, without a thought beyond rescuing his baby.

Danny barks out a laugh. "You would've laid siege to Nanda Parbat with The Big Blue Boy Scout?" he looks wistful. "That would've been rad."

Bruce sees his opening. "Danny," he stands, eye to eye with his son. "Let me help you."

Danny evaluates him. "The Batman," he says softly. "I didn't want you to come, then. I didn't need one more person I had to prove myself to. All I wanted was to live amongst the stars, in the quiet of the cosmos."

"You want to be an astronaut," Bruce says. At Danny's cocked head, he says without shame, "I read your essay on personal heroes. You wrote about Edward White. Ad Astra Per Aspera."

Danny smiles slightly, sadly. "It is a rough road."

"You can be whatever you want to be," Bruce says. "I won't stand in your way."

"Even if I want to be Danny Fenton?" he asks.

"Even then."

Danny sighs. "I don't need your help Bruce," he says. "No," he says as Bruce opens his mouth. He pulls the wad of tissues away from his cheek. Underneath the splotches of dried blood the gash in his face has cleanly knit itself together, a faint white line now all that remains.

"I don't need your help," he says clearly. He holds a palm forward, and a green fire grows from its center, until the flames are licking delicately up his fingers.

"I know The Batman does not kill. But I am not a Robin. I am something else entirely," Danny says, his eyes reflecting the green of the flames. Or not, as he looks up at Bruce, his eyes green all on their own. They are sad. This is why he stayed away, Bruce realizes. Not out of fear. Danny is not afraid. Danny is tired.

But for his brother, Danny will wake up.

"And If the League takes one step towards Damian, I will raze them to the ground."

[the-woman-upstairs]

Really fucked up that, when they’re young, Patrick and Art are SO tactile with each other, so comfortable sharing the same space. Art lets Patrick touch him and move him and physically overwhelm him and easily acquiesces to it, if not outright enjoys it.

Then in the present, they’ve been so far out of each other’s orbit for so long, held such animosity that when they have their moment alone in the sauna, Art physically recoils from Patrick’s close proximity! It’s so painful to watch because even as Patrick’s goading him, it’s so obvious he wants to be able to get back into Art’s space. But Art has erected all these walls around himself, he refuses to give Patrick an inch or even admit to missing how close they used to be!

AND THEN we see Art and Tashi later and he wants her to hold him, to be gentle with him, and just TOUCH him. Like, he does miss that kind of close physical contact! He either doesn’t know how to ask for it or is uncomfortable being that openly vulnerable. Worth noting that he pretty much always defers to Tashi in regard to initiating physical intimacy (with their first kiss, though he does state his desire, SHE has to be the one to make the first move). And it seems pretty obvious that Tashi herself isn’t comfortable providing that intimacy, whereas Patrick actively seeks to provide it (the hug/forehead kiss after their win together in the early years, dragging the stool closer to him).

Art has tried very hard to act like he doesn’t need physical affection and even though his discipline and devotion to Tashi has made him a stronger tennis player, it’s made him a hollow person, which, in turn, has kept him from becoming a GREAT tennis player.

All of this, of course, is why the ending hits so damn hard.

[evansbuck-ley]

the first halloween that buck and tommy’s son is old enough to go trick or treating he is insistent in keeping his costume secret - well secret from one parent bc someone needs to pay. and unfortunately for buck he is the parent that is kept out of the loop. and even more unfortunate for buck is that this is the year that he had to work Halloween, so tommy promises to bring henry to the firehouse before he takes him trick or treating.

halloween rolls around and buck is basically vibrating out of his skin bc he just got a text from tommy to tell him their are on the way and he is beyond excited to see his boys. and suddenly there comes the world smallest firefighter sprinting towards buck with tommy not too far behind trying his best to keep up. buck takes in the sight in front of him. bc henry could have dress up as Dracula or Spider-Man but no hes dressed as buck. from the plastic helmet that sat wonky on his head and had “118” scribbled on the front . to buckley-kinard that was neatly printed on the back on his jacket. all the way down to his little yellow rain boots poking out the bottom of his turnouts.

and from behind buck he could hear hen and eddie cooing at the sight of the boy and he could see chimney come to stand next to tommy to take a million pictures that he knows is being sent to maddie - because yes buck we need pictures of everything he does, we need to fill his baby box!

then henry is jumping up and down in front of him so excited and he’s rambling. look daddy I’m you. do you like it? papa said that you would love it. i’m going to be a firefighter when I grow up daddy. can we go see grampy bobby after papa? I want to show him. and god, he is buck’s double and buck just can’t hold it together anymore. he lets a tear slip down his cheek and he scoops the boy in his arms and holds him tight to his chest. and in his head he is thanking whatever god out there that gave him this.

this family. this love. his whole world.

[cubbihue]

Question ...if fairies rely on desire to feed,would Dev be a GOOD food source or a terrible food source? Does desire come from wishing or wanting more, essentially. Because dev like.. Has all he can want except his dad's approval ,so how does that work?

Fairies' food comes from the innate emotion a person has while Wishes are just the only way Fairies can pull the emotions (food) out!!!

The more the desire is out of reach, the more delicious it is, and the longer the fairy can go without needing another meal. It's simply easier to harvest from children because they have big emotions, and weak minds and impulses. A child can say "I wish" more openly than an adult does, making it easier for Fairies to cultivate.

Dev's one of the best food sources there is. In fact, he's able to feed a family of 5 for at least 8 months! However, he's also one of the worse sources to collect from because his desire is noncollectable by magic.

Which means you'll need an expert high-class, high-ranking Fairy Godparent who can siphon out his Desires into smaller parts via multiple smaller wishes!

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[bet-on-me-13]

Uncle Vlad

So! Vlad Masters, Maddie Walker, and Jack Fenton were a group of friends that studied together at Gotham University. They all studied the Effects of Ectoplasm of the world around them, from how it affected Space-time to how it affected the Flora of the world.

But they had another friend, one who was interested on how Ectoplasm affected Human Beings before they died, rather than after. He was a Med Student, and he wanted to see if there were any Medicinal applications to Ectoplasm.

His name was Thomas Wayne.

Thomas was actually great friends with the Trio, and eventually they became a Quartet. He was just as crazy as them, although he hid it better, and he loved to get into stupid shenanigans with them.

Unfortunately that all came to an end when Vlad got was put in the Hospital by a Lab Accident. He refused to see any of them, but Thomas managed to convince him to let him study how the Ectoplasm was affecting his Body to hopefully find a Cure. He was the most skilled Ecto-Biologist they had after all.

Thomas never managed to find a Cure, but he did manage to maintain his friendship with Vlad, even after Jack and Maddie got married and moved away to Illinois. He felt bad that their friend group fell apart like that, but with all their lives changing it was inevitable. Thomas himself was planning on proposing to his girlfriend Martha soon.

When Vlad moved away to Wisconsin after recovering from his Accident, he stayed in contact with Thomas as thanks for all the help he gave in trying to find a Cure. Unlike Jack and Maddie who moved away without even trying to say goodbye, Thomas stuck around and stayed his friend.

He even became the Godfather to his son, Bruce. He later got a Letter from Jack and Maddie naming him the Godfather of their own son, Daniel, but he didn't really care as much. Bruce was an adorable little boy, and incredibly intelligent, he got that from his Father obviously.

Or course, then That Day happened. Thomas and his wife were Shot by a mugger and poor Bruce was left without his parents. Vlad tried to take him in, but was rejected on the grounds that he was still "Too frail to get out of his House".

He stayed in Contact with Bruce, but it became harder as time went on. From both the revelation that Daniel Fenton was a Halfa like him, and the fact that Bruce was traveling so much, he didn't have much of a chance to contact him. He needed to split his attention, and Daniel took a lot more than expected.

He hoped Bruce would stay a good kid, Daniel gave him too many headaches already.

...

A few years later, Bruce Wayne became the Batman.

[moth-ed-man]

EVERYONE GO WATCH JOE HILLS

[ibetittering]

Come on guys 😔

[limewashedup]

Illustrations for my fic, Oh, brother!, in which Gem visits her brother Etho for the first time in a while. Oh, and she's also meeting his new partner, and doesn't quite know how to feel about that.

Or, a look at Gem and Etho through the years.

[nelkcats]

Conner Phantom, learning to live

It had been a few years since Vlad and Danny had stopped being enemies, years since Amity had been at peace with the ghosts. Danny spent his days teaching his children (he assumed they were his children) about well, everything.

Dan and Ellie had prefabricated knowledge, the halfa couldn't quite get it, but the point was that while they knew who was the creator of the chemistry, they had no idea how to do 2 + 2, so he made it his homework to fill in all the gaps.

No one at Amity blinked at the 30-year-boy-who-was-actually-12 and the 15-year-girl-who-was-actually-4, Danny guessed they had gotten used to the weirdness. One day, Vlad called and pointed out that someone had entered his database a few months ago (apparently he checked his digital security very little when he didn't make "evil" plans) and they had stolen the plans for the cloning capsule. Danny had a bad feeling.

Of course, it was after a month of searching that he found out about Lex Luthor's little "project." To say that he was angry was an understatement; he found the poor Superboy being mind controlled. He felt sad when he remembered Ellie's situation and well, he ended up stealing a clone child and destroying some laboratory. Like old times.

The world did not know of Phantom; Amity was suspicious, almost jealous that their protector could be taken away if they said a word, so they didn't say anything out of the city. It's not like the League did anything when they called. Danny didn't care, less tedious meetings and contingency plans for him. Besides, he wasn't excited about going back to the field if he didn't have to, as long as Amity was safe, the world could be destroyed for all he cared.

He wondered if spending too much time with Dan was affecting him, but in the end he dismissed the thought. Upon arriving home, Superboy had woken up and was being interrogated by the Phantoms. He chose his name to be Conner (sounds good apparently) and agreed to take classes to fill in the gaps of knowledge, just like Ellie, he seemed uncomfortable with the gaps.

The poor boy looked uncomfortable, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it never did. After finding out whose clone he was, he wondered if they would take him to Superman, but Danny just snorted. By the end of the week, Conner was a Phantom, and he was fine with that. Danny even told him that he could live normally if he wanted to, and the boy happily accepted the offer. Conner didn't want to be a hero, at least not that early, and Danny was happy with his decision.

Danny frowned thinking of all the heroes who would say that is "selfish" for someone with power to not to use it. But he believed that they were doubly selfish. Being a teenage hero wasn't fucking easy. He hugged Conner, welcoming him to the family and within days, the whole town already knew about him (they also knew whose clone he was, but they didn't really care, they weren't snitching).

Curiously, it was Tim Drake who noticed the strange family visiting Gotham (a 23-year-old seemed to be berating a 30-year-old for stealing tires, he snorted at the irony). However he froze when he saw Clark?, but much younger, speaking in Kryptonian and laughing. He called a meeting in the batcave and tried to call the family, but as soon as they saw the expression in his face they vanished from sight.

Hell, he needed to report it to Bruce.

[elodieunderglass]

And what if they grew old and were happy!! And what then!!

[scho17]

DC YJ verse but its just

Clockwork, calling Danny: There's someone stuck in the Speed Force go get them out please (Wally) 

Danny, who has been retired since he moved away for college: What.

[s0fter-sin]

trans!soap taking his baby and running away from his rich abusive husband

(cw angst, financial abuse, single threat of child abuse, single mention of transphobia)

he's owned soap for years, since he was a teenager; paid for his medication and all his surgeries and tied them so deeply, soap’s lost hope of ever getting away. he gets even worse when soap falls pregnant. he was always controlling; blowing up at him if he spent too long out of the house or did something without telling him. but he becomes utterly possessive during the pregnancy

soap knows it has nothing to do with his safety or the baby's

he knows he sees his baby as an investment; another being he can control and hold over him

he gets worse and worse but there’s nothing soap can do. there's been nothing he can do for a long time. then a few months after the baby is born, soap doesn’t watch his tone closely enough and his husband threatens to drop his baby in punishment for it

soap doesn't think. he doesn't plan

he takes his baby and runs

he sneaks out of the servant's quarters of the sterile mansion he's been forced to live in for almost a decade and walks down the street without a backwards glance; his baby the only thing in his arms. he knows all of his husband's cars have trackers, all of them in his name since he never lets soap drive or go anywhere by himself, so he walks far enough to be out of view of the mansion's cameras and steals one. it doesn't have a car seat and all he can do is clutch his baby to his chest as he drives

he doesn't know where he's going beyond away

he doesn't know what he's going to do; he doesn't have any money, no supplies for his baby, he doesn't even have water for himself so he can reliably breastfeed him. he's terrified his husband will find them; he’s always felt omniscient, always everywhere and seeing everything he did. if he didn’t have eyes somewhere, he paid someone who did and they always dutifully reported back to him

soap just keeps his eyes forward. just keeps driving and driving, lost to the road and numb until the low gas light pops up on the dash and it all hits him at once

he turns into a gas station he can't pay for, in a car he stole, and parks behind it and his baby immediately starts getting fussy

he can't even call him by his name sometimes; too afraid to get attached, too afraid to lose him. as if he doesn’t love him more than life itself

even throughout his pregnancy, as happy as he was to finally have a baby, he didn't know if he could carry to term and that fear just let his husband dig his claws in even deeper; paying for extra scans he could never hope to pay for, favours on top of favours so he would aways owe him and isn’t he such a loving husband? taking soap in when his parents kicked him out for being trans, looking after him for all these years? you can’t even take care of yourself john, you’d still be a woman without me, john, what is this tantrum about john-

soap tugs his shirt up to let his baby feed, drops his head back and cries

he can't stop it; wails loud and uncontrolled, chest heaving with his sobs enough that it sways his baby, occasionally breaking his latch and he can't even do this right-

he can't save him

a light knock sounds on the window and soap flinches, curling over his baby to protect him from his huband's cruel hands

but it's not his husband outside the window

soap blinks tears from his eyes and looks at the large stranger standing beside the car. a neck gaiter covers his mouth and it should be off-putting… but something about him stops the feeling in its tracks. the stranger takes a half-step back and lifts a chilled and sealed water bottle, pressing it towards the window

soap quickly swipes his face clean and rolls down the window. "sorry 'bout that," he apologises with a choked laugh, the careful front he’s built over the years cracked and bleeding

the stranger gives a dismissive but somehow not diminishing shrug. "long day?" he asks

"could say that," he gives a shrug of his own and pats his baby's back as he makes a disgruntled noise, unconsciously swaying him

he politely keeps his gaze up on his face. "looks like you could use a break."

soap's breath hitches, anxiously darting his tongue out over his bottom lip. "could say that," he repeats uselessly and takes the water with a quiet “thanks,”; his throat dry and screaming for it after crying so hard

the stranger hums, watching him down the bottle and soap doesn’t notice his eyes drifting to the backseat and footwell of the passenger side. doesn’t notice the slight tension in his fists at what he sees. "how long you been runnin', lad?"

soap freezes, the water settling in his stomach like a stone. he swallows thickly and the bottle falls from his lips

"not long enough."

the stranger just nods, looking idly back down the highway

"you know, this place is connected to a garage,” he starts, nodding back to a building attached to the station without taking his eyes off the road. “lotta people drift through 'ere on road trips; too many to keep track.”

soap frowns slightly, shifting his hold on his baby

“funny thing is, plenty of 'em just abandon their car when they break down. like yours,” he adds and finally turns back to him with a pointed look. “got a whole junkyard of 'em. just rustin' away. be pretty easy to convince me to trade ya one."

soap’s mouth parts in a gasp as he realises just what the stranger’s saying. "how easy?" he whispers

he shrugs and even with his face hidden beneath the gaiter, he doesn’t feel afraid. "i'd say this car'd be a good deal. would blend right in with the rest of ‘em; no one’d ever notice it. what say i take it off your hands?"

soap's breath shudders out of him, his whole body going limp with relief. his baby's eyes fall shut with a satisfied hum and for the first time he can remember, he feels the gentle touch of hope

"i think we can work something out."

🧼💀

ghost owns the service station soap pulled into. he wanted something quiet and isolated after he retired and you can’t get much quieter than a backwoods servo surrounded by forest. he hasn’t had anyone pull in in days so he’s quick to notice soap’s car. he’s also quick to notice soap's subsequent breakdown in one of the cameras. the sight of him crying, desperately clutching a baby like they’re all he has left in the world, is so familiar he felt sick with it

he knows someone running when he sees it

if he didn't check on him, if this lad disappeared one day and the baby along with him, he'd never forgive himself. the lad doesn't even have a baby bag or car seat with him, and the personalised sticker on the back window of a lady and a dog is a dead giveaway that the car is stolen

but the lad is terrified. and when he startled him, he didn't turn. didn’t lift his arms to protect himself. no

he covered his baby

like he was afraid he'd be hurt

that's enough for ghost

🧼💀

i'd wanna set this in the 80's or 90's, just to make it even harder for soap to get away from his husband. he's a trans man with a newborn; he has no one to run to and no resources to help him. his husband's bought and paid for everything for him since he was 17; a few whirlwind weeks of unbelievable dates and extravagant gifts and he was living in his mansion, getting married the day after his 18th birthday. he thought it was love. thought he was being looked after and cared for the way he’s always wanted

he was in pain and alone and naive enough to believe the first person who came along and promised to make it better. nothing's in his name, not his insurance or his meds, he doesn’t have a bank account or savings; other than a birth certificate, nothing even ties him to his baby. his husband could take his world away from him with a snap of his fingers and he made sure soap always knew it

he never had a chance of getting away

but ghost is ex-military

he doesn’t know the lad’s story, doesn’t know the details of what he’s running from. he doesn’t need to know

he decided he was helping him the second he pulled into his service station

[moriaarts]

Omega and Echo reunion at the rebel base c:

Saw ppl freaking out that Echo isn’t with the bad batch at the end but i offer you this: Echo is a workaholic and was absolutely the only reason Hunter let Omega go off on her own to rebel.

Echo: Thought I told you to stop growing, tooka.

Omega: As soon as you stop gettin’ old, ruug’jag (old man)