#or at least a side fic of it

[erinwantstowrite]

Dick and Tim would be REALLY good on reality tv,,, they're both charismatic (please do not forget that Tim makes friends/allies easily just like Dick can), handsome, CLEVER, and know how to play to a persona. i think they'd go on shows for fun and to de-stress. like one too many things piss them off in their daily lives and they could pretty much get a vacation from it just to go on these shows. no one in the family can talk to them and they get to annoy people, crack jokes, and get fun puzzles in the form of a literal puzzle or figuring out social dynamics of the other players.

sometimes they go on shows by themselves but mostly use it as a brotherly bonding activity. if it's a show where they can be a duo they're GOING to do it. and they're going in to play to a storyline, not to win. they don't need the money, they don't need the publicity, they just want to have fun. sometimes if they figure out that everyone on the show sucks and they get competitive, they'll win. but mostly their goal is "how can we make the funniest plot line look the most natural." or something like that. i know a producer LOVES to see them coming. i bet EVERYONE tunes in when they're on a show because they're fucking hilarious even if half of what they say are inside jokes. the rest of the family watches and they KNOW what those shits are pulling, they have betting pools where they guess what the two are gonna do next, they're the FIRST to make memes for both internet and for the family group chats.

one time they convinced Bruce to go (it's been many a years since he really had to play up the Brucie role, cause he's a dad now and the older he gets the more people expect him to mellow out, and even back when he was full Brucie, reality TV wasn't his thing). it was one of those survival based shows where you come is as a team and try to win together. Bruce got lost in the woods after going on a hike. The camera men literally lost him and Tim and Dick were playing it up for the camera. Dick cried and invited the other teams to a funeral. Tim had a speech that was basically "I think he's fine but this is my perfect opportunity to embarrass my dad with stories." The producers were like "we fucking killed Bruce Wayne oh my fucking god" and Bruce shows up at the funeral like "oh what a beautiful service my boys are so great." They won by pure luck and circumstances and they were actively TRYING to lose that game. They were gobsmacked at the end and everyone uses the moment they looked at each other in confusion and shock as reaction gifs

[eggcats]

I've decided a funny interaction would be Vox seeing Alastor and Lucifer on his spy cameras together (they're literally not even doing anything they're just in the general vicinity) and doing the exact thing he told Valentino not to do by rushing over to confront them.

Vox, bursting in the doors: "YOU'RE WITH LUCIFER?!?!"

Alastor, not dealing with this: *disappears into his shadows*

Lucifer, confused: "Uhhhh....who are you?"

Vox, infuriated: "DOES HE LET YOU SEE HIS TAIL?!?"

Lucifer, even more confused. Lives with Alastor, does NOT realize that "Does the Radio Demon have a tail?" is of furious debate amongst much of the public (nor that Vox runs a reward service for anyone who can get proof of said tail). Has seen Alastor half-asleep on the couch during forced movie night without his jacket, has seen him drunk, has seen him chase Angel out of his room half-dressed, amongst other things: "Yes?"

Vox becomes so overheated that he shuts down. Charlie comes home to see Vox, passed out on the couch, with her dad anxiously standing nearby like, "Okay, I KNOW this looks bad, but this was NOT me!"

[izzystizzys]

“ - but have you ever considered, I don’t know, not sucking all the time? Just a thought.”

It takes the combined grips of Nuisance and Hound to keep the wriggling, snarling body beneath Fox from throwing him off its back. With three years’ practice of having to fix his own rickety desk chair over and over again, the movement merely ruffles the proverbial fringe on his helmet.

“And I don’t mean that as an insult, necessarily. Well, I do a little bit. But also I have some amount of empathy for the no doubt immense amounts of trauma that had to go into the creation of something so dysfunctional as you, on a very personal level, so have you considered going to the root of that in a way that’s like… useful? Instead of wasting it all on kriffing Kenobi, I mean. Look at the guy. All he does all day is drink tea and commit warcrimes. I bet he knits for fun. Bit of an embarrassing nemesis, don’t you think?”

“I”, says Kenobi, then pauses. The space between his eyebrows is creased with uncertainty, and he looks deeply torn between continuing rocking the shaking Duchess of Mandalore against his chest from his corner of the throne room and re-activating his lightsaber to continue losing his fight against the Darksider Fox is currently sitting on. “I feel like I should object to some part of that, but I’m not entirely clear on what. Or how this happened, again. Isn’t Mandalore a few star systems from your purview, Commander?”

“Probably the warcrimes”, mutters Nuisance underneath his strained breath.

“About as far from my supposed assignment as yours, General”, says Fox a little louder.

Kenobi twitches. Fox cannot claim to know which of them does it. Both, maybe. Probably.

“I will - taste - your - flesh!”, heaves out Darth Maul, snarling and hissing.

“Oooh, kinky!”, calls Grids, from the corner where she’s got her stun-setting aimed at the other Zabrak, currently passed out cold. Fox sighs deeply. He knew he shouldn’t have taken those three - any combination of Grids, Hound and Nuisance in a room together usually spelled chaos.

Unfortunately, it also spelled competence. The Basic alphabet can be funny that way.

The point being: as of some months into the war, one of Fox’s assigned tasks is the surveillance of all GAR-wide communication. All command-class staff theoretically got that memo, but no one seems to have read the fine print where that includes both professional and personal communication, as well as any and all comm devices registered or suspected to be registered to that person. Especially not one Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala.

The point further being, if that sounds both immensely impractical and sort of terrifying in a democratic supposedly non-surveillance state, you’d be bang on the credits, and to Fox’ eternal chagrin the singular person in this whole useless army who’s spent the second of thinking necessary for that conclusion.

The final point being, when one frantic General’s mad dash across the Galaxy to rescue his teenage sweetheart from the spectre of his supposedly dead nemesis crosses his desk on its way to the Chancellor’s inbox, it doesn’t take much time for him to block any and all trace of it across the digital space of the GAR commboard and take matters into his own hands.

“ - which is why I told Thorn to suck it up and be in charge for a few days, and also why you’re still alive, your Highness, very welcome, was no trouble at all”, he concludes, drily. The Duchess stares the wide-eyed look of someone attempting to reconcile clones with ‘sentience’ or perhaps ‘personality’ in her head, but won’t say it outright.

Or the look of someone who’s just been violently overthrown and nearly murdered, perhaps, Fox allows.

“Um -“, Kenobi hedges, blinking rapidly.

“And the reason you’re still alive, probably. You’re welcome for that too, by the way”, Grids calls from the back of the throne room, cheekily.

“Alright”, says Kenobi, loudly. There’s color back in his deathly-pale cheeks, Fox notes, even if that color is a lot of red. It doesn’t fade very gracefully into his beard. “Opinions on whether or not I had everything under control notwithstanding -“

“You really didn’t”, Hound supplies helpfully.

“ - opinions notwithstanding, I am admittedly still lost on why you’re now sitting on Darth Maul and attempting to, to - jeer at him, Marshall Commander!”

“We’re not jeering, we’re trying to create a safe space and lay the groundwork for more open communication”, Fox says, primly.

Maul screams into the ground, attempting for the umpteenth time to rear up and visit great violence upon Fox, which admittedly has him rattling in his crosslegged seat atop his back.

Kenobi raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Safe space?”

“He’s restrained and not stabbing anyone, I personally feel much safer than before”, Grids muses. “Watch the teeth though, Hound. Little biter.”

Indeed. Fox’s right greave will have to be replaced posthaste.

“And anyways, the point isn’t to jeer at him, it’s to make clear that he’s focusing his energy in the wrong places and could be doing much better things with his admittedly not-great life”, Fox adds, shifting to cast a pointed look down at Maul. The Sith is panting open-mouthed into the durasteel floor, sharp teeth gnashing wildly as his piercing yellow eyes shine with barely restrained rage. “I’m just saying - aim higher. You aren’t seeing the forest for the Kenobis, Maul. Can I call you Maul?”

“I will feed you your own entrails”, yowls Maul.

“See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Right now, I’m an easy target to focus all that built-up rage on, but is killing me really going to help you achieve any of your goals? No! Think about it - when it all comes down to it, who sent you on that mission to Naboo in the first place? Who made sure the Jedi and, by extension, Kenobi would be there to kill you? Who used you as a dejarik piece and then cast you aside the second you outlived your usefulness?”

Beneath him, Maul slowly stills in his struggle, still panting heavily. Hound and Nuisance don’t let it deter them in their vigilance, because they’re damn good vod’e and possess an ounce of common sense.

“And, look, I get it. I could spend the rest of my life punching every civilian who spits on me in the streets and it would even be satisfying. I could hit back the Senators who think of clones as easy targets. Or - I can aim my sights at who’s on top. And I think you know who I mean, because you know as well as I do the same damn man has ruined both our lives.”

Kenobi makes an alarmed noise, and Maul an interested one - not that Fox is going to let him walk out of this place awake. Still, he tilts his head in a way he hopes conveys his helmeted grin successfully to non-vod, as well as the bloodlust behind it. “You’re also welcome for the fact that the Chancellor won’t have heard of your spontaneous resurrection yet, by the way. You’ll retain your element of surprise instead of gambling it away on petty revenge on Kenobi.”

“He cut me in half!”

“He killed my master!”

Fox waves their protests away.

“Also, that’s treason!”, Kenobi adds, sputtering. Fox grins. Kenobi purses his lips, and continues. petulantly, “…do you have any proof?”

“So. Much. Proof”, says Nuisance, dreamily. “Like, do you want it alphabetically or by date?”

Which is when the Duchess, of all people, bursts out into barking, crazed laughter.

“You - you’ve certainly given yourself an edge in that fight, Marshall Commander”, she wheezes, brushing tears from her eyes. Fox raises his eyebrows at her, which she somehow seems to be able to tell, because she gestures at the clunky handle dangling from his belt.

“What, this old thing?” He unclasps the black rectangle from its hook, holding it up in the air. Maul stills strangely beneath him, and Kenobi goes ghostly pale again. Fox is starting to get a bad feeling.

“I took it off Viszla and beat him over the head with it. I figured he’d taken it off a Jedi cadet or something. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

[xxplastic-cubexx]

cant stop thinkin bout charles and erik readin together on the couch but instead of reading with him charles is listening to eriks thoughts while he reads. Live mind commentary ……..

[uhlillie]

horribly rushed and messy doodle i pulled out of thin air after reading @clandestinedmeetings's steadfast.

[kmesons]

while the concept of samuel existing in maia's room as some sort of afterlife has been wonderfully and sincerely portrayed in some recent fanworks, it's also very funny to me because I imagine the first few moments of samuel being in the room going something like

[20001541]

I like to think that pre canon both AFO and Izuku visited the same online forums where people came together to discuss quirks and often debated with each other about pro hero quirks lol. Their first conversation ever was arguing over aspects of All Mights quirk because AFO said something insulting about him.

Izuku finds AFO abrasive, but creates some of the most fascinating analysis he's ever read that he wonders if AFO is some kind of quirk counselor or doctor who specializes in studying quirks in real life.

AFO finds it refreshing to see someone share the same enthusiasm about quirks like he does and enjoys reading and challenging Izuku's own theories at times.

I wouldn't call it friendship.... but more like two people finding common ground in sharing a hobby that almost no one else cares for.

[gbirrd]

8/9 - Steph Brown tarot card designs for Complete Candor by @vexfulfolly as part of the @batfam-big-bang

Read the fic here!

Other cards:

1-Babs 2-Cass 3-Bruce 4-Tim 5-Damian 6-Jason 7-Duke 8-Steph 9-Dick

Image IDs

Image 1:

A design of the "Judgement" tarot card. It has the texture of recycled paper and reads "JUDGEMENT". A symbol of two clouds is visible behind the numeral "XX".

Steph Brown faces foward in her Spoiler uniform. She has pupil-less white eyes and is shrouded in purple smoke. There are a few stylised lilac-coloured clouds in the foreground, partially obscuring her. The bottom half of Cluemaster's face is visible in the background with a hand reaching to grab her.

Image 2:

A design of the "Judgement" tarot card. It has the texture of recycled paper and reads "JUDGEMENT" upside-down. A symbol of a rabbit and a wolf is visible behind the numeral "XX".

Steph Brown stands with her back turned in her Robin uniform. She is standing in a pool of blood. A large shadowy Batman is in the background. The lower half of his face is visible and his hand reaches out to grab her. The yellow bat on his chest fades into the blood. The entire card is upside-down.

[moeblob]

I love Chris so much you guys.

[yantao-enthusiast]

pleaaaase stop tagging wlw ships that are background on the mlm fics !!!!! the majority of that wlw ship tag is clogged up with mlm with just a dash of wlw when all the people want is them to be the stars PLEEASSSEEEEEE

[grantwilson]

fucked up that once you've read all the fics in a tag, the only way to get more is to write them yourself. someone should do something about this

[izzystizzys]

Die Alone: The Coruscant Guard Christmas Special

All‘s calm and quiet on Coruscant, for once - the Senate‘s either gone home to celebrate the universally beloved Xeshmas with their closest, or is attending the annual festive bash at the Spakatomi Splaza buildings, sponsored by Chandrila. At 79’s, a horde of merry Commanders get together to bask in the Xeshmas spirit (red, green and white shots) and celebrate another year survived. But wait, Bacara groans into someone’s boots only thirty minute into their jolly bash, where the kriff is Fox? Ignored the invite again?

A strange feeling comes over Cody. He spent the entire day brooding, telling everyone who would listen that he has the strangest sensation of having forgotten something important and being told it can’t be that important if he’s forgotten it (Wooley) or to quit being such a partypooper (Rex). Now, it dawns on him.

He never sent that comm to Fox.

To be entirely fair, Fox probably couldn’t have attended either way - stuck as he is as the singular vod on babysitting shift at the empty Senate building. Still, it would’ve been nice to at least hear from some of the others, considering he saw them all loiter towards the clubbing district on security cams anyways. Now, here he sits and gathers dust - as a glorified secretary while his brothers are off partying or on security detail at Spakatomi Splaza.

Fox heaves a deep sigh and traces expletives in the thin film of dust on the reception desk. One positive of this whole thing - for once, he’s safe from being accosted and having slurs thrown at him by uppity senate staff, or, Force forbid, being called on a special mission by the Chancellor. He’s safely in his Nubian mansion by now, thank the Galaxy.

Thire and Ballsy are heading the party security, which, most ridiculous kriffing thing he’s had to assign troopers to in a long time. He would’ve doomed himself to it, but the Chancellor specially requested he man the desks and empty Senate. Fox is, after all, the best of the best.

Kriffing Xeshmas parties. Mothma, who’s usually capable of critical thought, specially requested they be in softshell for this assignment - to make their guests feel more comfortable and off the clock, she told Fox with a completely straight face.

Imagine that. Off the clock. Hah.

Fox is so busy watching the imaginary off-time he’s only heard of in dreams that he doesn’t even register the sudden plunge into darkness, until he starts to blink and his brain slowly comes back online.

Well, kriff.

With a heavy, internalized eyeroll, he flicks at his vambrace. Nothing. Taps for the light-controls. Nothing. Pokes at the screens of various pads.

Nothing.

…double-kriff.

With a much more external sigh, Fox heaves himself to his feet and attempts to manually flick on his helmet lights, only to grunt out a string of curses when he realizes they shorted out along with everything else. He gropes at his belt and -

Yup, magpack on the blaster too. Great.

Fox trudges through the empty, darkened corridors with all the enthusiasm of the world’s saddest glorified customer service worker, mentally cursing all the great forces at work to create this extraordinarly shit day for him.

Mothma for throwing stupid kriffing Xeshmas parties and requesting an unreasonable amount of softshell (!) Guard for it.

Palpatine for ordering him to babysit the Galaxy’s center of operations alone.

Cody and all the rest of them for not even kriffing pretending to invite him to anything anymore.

This stupid kriffing generator for deciding to kick it at the worst possible moment, and whoever was stupid enough to make the whole Senate power grid and comm access dependent on one single kriffing -

Fox freezes, all at once.

Voices. Plural. Outside.

Slowly, Fox creeps towards the slide doors leading outside. He pries them open gently, careful not to allow for a single creak or slip that could give him away. It’s more likely to be nothing than anything, but -

“ - enter from the trash chute, while Bossk takes the staff entrance on the other side and cover more ground that way. Bane, you will screw off the vent covers through the third floor exit and -“

“I know what I’m doing”, a deep, gravelly voice interrupts that sends shivers down Fox’ spine. He’d hoped he’d never have to encounter it outside a criminal court recording again - triple kriff. “I don’t need your lectures, Sing.”

“Touchy today, are we?”, Aurra Sing says, snidely, and it begins to dawn on Fox exactly how kriffed he really is. “Relax, Bane. We know what we’re doing. The Chancellor’s treasury doesn’t stand a chance in Sith-hell.”

A low, vibrating hiss answers her, trembling with laughter. Fox has to force himself to hold his breath to keep in the expletives that want to slip free, hands cold and clammy in his gloves.

“Alright, everyone on position. We wait an hour for the commotion to really get started over at Spakatomi, and then -“

Deciding he’s heard enough, Fox carefully shifts the sliding doors back closed and inches back through the hallways with his heart hammering in his chest. Kriff, kriff and double-kriff this stupid kriffing holiday - first thing he’s doing when he gets out of this alive is outlaw the very idea of Xeshmas for all acting GAR personnel, and then he’s going to shove a Nabooian fir-tree up the ass of Jango Fett’s kriffing ghost, because somehow, this too is his fault. Fox just knows it.

First, though, he’ll have to keep three of the Galaxy’s most infamous and deadly bounty hunters from stealing Republic secrets and treasures on his own.

(Somewhere, among the debris-littered ring of planetary satellites, a string of increasingly desperate comms waits to go through:

CC-4477: FOX

CC-4477: FOX HELP

CC-4477: FOOOOOOOX

CC-4477: THERE ARE SEPPIE TERRORISTS IN THE LOBBY THEY ARE BEATING UP ORGANA

CC-4477: I AMN HIDNG I TOLET

CC-4477: Sorry for that, Commander. The situation is back under control - I have acquired a bomb. I‘m sure you‘re right outside with the others setting up a perimeter - I‘ll keep the hostages safe, ori‘vod! :) -Thire)

[turesti]

Also not trying to speak this into existence or anything, but with Cassian’s divided loyalties in that bonus scenes while Az stayed by her side and showed genuine care for Nesta….

Could you imagine if SJM decided to do another fake out for endgame couples in ACOTAR again???

AGAIN- not trying to speak into existence, but can you imagine???

[theforsakenprince]

if I had my way Forsaken would be it's own 20 hour game delving deeper into the morality of our revenge and Uldren's crimes and Riven's manipulation of him and Mara's anger and grief towards us for killing the only family she had left and the implications of us shooting an unarmed and defenseless man and and and

[starlesscitiess]

i just think that once you read unholyverse you can never go back. you’re a changed person. now in a completely convoluted backdoor sort of way, catholicism is in your head forever

[frankiebirds]

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