#that's the whole fic though

[izzystizzys]

TW: discussion of something approximating suicidal tendencies but with the usual crack programming of this blog

“Ah, High General Windu”, says Fox, pleasantly. “So we meet again.”

High General Windu raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him, Fox thinks, though it’s getting hard to tell with all the blood rushing to his head. “If I let you go, will you try to throw yourself out of another window?”

Fox makes a vague shrugging motion - or tries to, anyways. It’s hard to tell where any of his limbs are going, hanging upside down in the air as he is. “I am willing to discuss terms.” A bridge will do just fine.

Impossibly, the High General’s eyebrows climb even further up his forehead. “A compromise, then, esteemed Commander.” And so, he righths Fox the head way up in the air, but leaves him floating just above the ground, at which point several painted shells come skidding around the corner followed by billowing robes and screeches.

“WHAT”, says Kote, calmly, “THE BANTHA-KARKED, FORCE-LOVING KRIFF, FOX.”

“You’ll short out your helmet mic”, Fox advises him, sagely. Fondly, he thinks back to decimating his own on only his second time in the newly-christened official Coruscant Guard Scream Closet. He’d just received the comm about the Zillo Beast being transported to 000, and made sure to take his bucket off thereafter to improve the quality of his closet time.

High General Windu’s face does something complicated between sympathy and constipation.

Because the Galaxy doesn’t hate Fox enough already and Cody wasn’t enough on his own, Wolffe elbows his way through their batch to plant himself in front of him, shoulders squared and shaking with repressed rage. “If you try that again, dickhead”, he begins, in a low growl that quite frankly sounds more cringe that intimidating, “I’m going to resurrect you and then kill you again.”

“Ah, Wolffe”, Plo Koon says, in his deep, shivery timbre, “Remember our conversations about effective conflict resolution and communication of needs?”

Wolffe’s eyes narrow at Fox, because all non-Guard are sweet summer children who walk around buckets off on 000 like absolute lunatics. Fox prays they never have to find out why that’s a bad idea. “I feel”, his ori’vod presses out between clenched teeth, “that if you make me watch you throw yourself out of another window, I’m going to jump after you and strangle you on the way down, you little bitch.”

“That’s fair”, says Fox, and watches High General Kenobi bury his face in his hands. Wolffe twitches in place and makes an aborted groaning noise, the hypocrite.

“Excuse me, High Marshall Commander Fox, but I fail to see what’s so dire about this situation that the Jedi High Council and your brothers cannot help you solve”, says Windu, the only sane one left on this Force-forsaken bloated corpse of a planet. Behind the gaggle of Jedi and ori’vode already gathered in front of Fox, the rest of them come veering around the corner in a commotion that’s quite frankly embarrassing. High General Yoda is mounted on Skywalker’s back like he’s a race-Eopie, which is Fox’ only consolation.

He got up this morning at 0300, bleary-eyed and with a pounding headache as always, and all was right in the world. And then Fox got called into the Jedi High Council’s chambers and was ceremoniously informed that in the wake of Chancellor Palpatine’s unfortunate demise (hah), and through the emergency state of the Senate, as well as several invented promotions foisted on Fox to make the delegation of any and all paperwork less shady, he was now next in the chain of command and-

Well, Fox is the acting Chancellor, in short.

Haha, he had said, and been meet with several seconds of silence, until it got both awkward and exceedingly painful. Wait, he’d said. You’re kriffing serious.

Kriffing serious, we are, had said High General Yoda, and thus Fox launched himself out the first best window with a maniacal cackle of, you’ll have to catch me first!

And catch him, High General Windu sure did.

“The will of the Force this is”, Yoda interrupts Fox’ train of thought. He scans him thoughtfully from beneath his wizened brow, and hems to himself. “Shake things up, this will. Determine the fate of the Galaxy, this shall. A feeling, I have, that a good Chancellor you will make. A better one, hmmm.”

“That’d be high praise, if not for the fact that a dead lemming would make for a better Chancellor than the last one”, says Fox, drawing and indignant gasp from Skywalker. He doesn’t bother with either that or the green goblin’s cackle, lost in the deep sense of resignation that settles over his shoulders like a suffocating blanket.

“Alright, then, get me Thorn on the comm. As my first act in office, I’m firing all the Jedi. No offense, but you’re kind of a disaster. Then, someone get me to the Chancellor’s office, I’m calling Dooku to let him know the war’s off. And please get me Judicial, they’ll be up all night working on my datafolders - I’m having the Senate arrested.”

“Who - is - arresting - “, Bly pants, hands on his knees from where he’s just come sprinting around the corner with his Jedi.

Underneath his bucket, Fox smiles a smile that’s all teeth. “The Senate”, he says, sweetly, wondering if he’s just imagined the shiver that’s gone through the room. “I’m suing the Senate, and taking them all into temporary custody for abuse of sentient rights.”

[speaking-riddlish]

Thinking about how Riddlish is handled in cannon and in fics. I've seen people just put random things that happen to ryhm anytime they want someone to be speaking Riddlish and it's like, a minor pet peeve of mine? But every time we see Riddlish spoken in cannon, it kind of makes sense in a way? Like, if you think about what is said, and try to piece together any symbolism based on context, you can kind of understand what they're saying. Like Maddie said, "Riddlish is not an exact language". Putting together the metaphor and symbolism gives you the general idea of what they're getting across. And whenever a fic does this well, it's like an instant favorite.

Let's look at and dicect some cannon examples (I've always kind of found these facinating):

"Feathers and Friends, together alone!"

"Feathers" could refer to Raven, since she's named after a bird. She also has feathers fairly prominent in her character design, so it'd make sense for Giles to say this even though he doesn't know her name yet.

"and Friends" probably refers to Maddie, since she's known him for a while and is presumably his friend. It could also refer to their friendship, and maybe even be a way of including Raven in.

"together, alone" They're here with him, joining him in his solitude.

Putting it all together we get "Raven and Maddie, you're here! You came to visit me!" Which lines up pretty well with Maddie's translation of "he says it's nice to have us here!"

"Can a musical chair change its tone, when the tablet of granite is inscribed with a bone?"

"Can a musical chair change it's tone" The music in musical chairs is integral to the game, yet the song played does not come from the chair, but from the people playing. The tone of a musical chair is something fundamental about itself, and also something imposed by something outside itself. Can it change? Can something change something about itself that someone else has decided is fundamental?

"When the tablet of granite is inscribed with a bone?" A tablet of granite inscribed with something is literally that thing being written in stone, another reference to destiny and inevitability. And what's written on that stone is a bone, is death. Death is what is written in stone. Death is supposedly inevitable here.

From Raven's tone and terrified body language when asking Maddie to translate for her, it's fairly clear that the thing that wants to change is referring to Raven.

Putting it all together we get "Can Raven change from what others have said she's supposed to be, or is death the inevitable consequence of that like we've been told it is?" Which lines up pretty well with what Maddie was asked to translate: "What'll happen to me if I don't sign the book, am I really gonna disapear?"

"The king that sings with pages of sky fears too much the dawn that rises with lies"

"pages of sky" is in reference to the book, and maybe the fairytales themselves. The sky is often used to symbolically reference heaven and the divine. The book, determining people's destinies, fits fairly well into that category. It's almost like he's referring to the book as being from above.

"The king that sings with pages of sky" would then be Headmaster Grim. He's in a position of authority over the students like a king is to his subjects. He "sings with" the book/the stories with his constant insistence that people must sign the book and follow their stories, speaking in unison with them.

"fears too much" this part is fairly clear, Milton's paranoid. The consequences he thinks are inevitable aren't as inevitable as he claims.

"the dawn that rises with" would mean something like "the consequences of" or "the fallout from". Then there's one of two ways the rest could be. "lies" could refer to that which is contrary to what the stories say will happen. If you take the stories as "truth" then changing the stories would be "lies". Or, "rises with lies" could mean the consequences coming from Milton's lies being brought to light. The dawn rises as Milton's lies rise.

Yet the whole thing sounds rather foreboding, giving the impression that something is seriously wrong.

Bringing it all together, we either get "Headmaster Grim told you to follow your destiny because he's paranoid about what'll happen if you don't. But those fears are unfounded. Also something is very wrong." or "Headmaster Grim told you to follow your destiny because he's afraid of what will happen when people find out why you don't need to (and its emplied that that reason is something very bad)" This lines up fairly well with Maddie's translation of "There's something wrong with the book, and if you don't sign, your story will continue... I think". I like the touch that Maddie wasn't as confident in this translation, since the last phrase is more ambiguous. It's not really clear how the foreboding tone integrates into the message without more context than Maddie has, so Maddie doesn't really know what it means.

"The baby bird flies. The snake, it slithers. But the cage holds both, to die and to wither."

"The baby bird flies. The snake, it slithers." The baby bird and the snake are two very different creatures, they move and interact with the world in two totally different ways. Most people also would look more favorably on the baby bird than on the snake.

"but the cage holds both, to die and to wither." the cage doesn't care what is inside of it, it will indiscriminately hold them both captive. The things that make the baby bird different from the snake, and the adorable charms of the baby bird will not free the baby bird from the cage, nor will they protect the baby bird from the grisly fate that awaits it in the cage.

The context is also relevant, since she's talking to Alastair and Bunny, two of her subjects who have just been arrested, but also two of her daughter's friends.

Putting this all together we get "Yes, you enjoy privileges that others do not have, but my affection for you will not compromise my judgement. You are not above the law. I am not above punishing you like I would anynother citizen." While we don't have a cannon translation to compare this to, it seems to make sense. Its immediately followed up with her letting them off with a warning, and despite this interaction, Bunny later tells Lizzie that her mom really is a good queen, but that the curse has stressed her out. I think the Queen of Hearts probably made exploring illegal to protect people from the curse. If she really is a good queen, then this type of objectivity ("I don't care if you're my daughter's friends, crime is crime") would make total sense.

[shrimpchipsss]

read Living With a Tiger by x_los !

[kennyomegasweave]

1. Stiles left Beacon Hills to never return and left his jeep.

2. Derek saved his jeep and fixed everything. Stiles's dad flat out says Derek saved it after Stiles left and tried to fix it up. Stiles had it held together with duck tape but Derek put everything into fixing it, but it wasn't able to run perfectly.

3. In the 15 years since Stiles left to never return, it ended up in the junkyard because Derek couldn't fix it like he wanted to, but he wouldn't abandon it.

4. Eli, Derek's kid, would routinely steal it to piss Derek off.

5. After Derek died. Stiles's dad gave Eli the keys to the jeep and told him Derek had "complicated feelings about the Jeep" but it should definitely be Eli's.

So like Derek was in love with Stiles huh? Like he saved Stiles's jeep, when Stiles himself abandoned it. He tried to make it run smoothly and when he couldn't he kept it under a tarp at the junkyard to not be driven but not to be scrapped either. And then his son would regularly steal it solely to piss Derek off. Derek himself said it was just to make him mad. And then when Derek died, Sheriff Stilinski gave the keys to Eli and said he should have it and that Derek had "complicated feelings about the jeep" but it was Eli's. Derek was definitely in love with Stiles and I just.

[benevolenterrancy]

Swords pining for each other's cultivator is my new favorite type of pining. Love your NieYao content! <3

I don't suppose we could get Baxia or Hensheng throwing a tantrum while Jin Guangyao / Nie Mingjue are away, leaving their owners to deal with the embarrassing aftermath?

Also, do you have any recs you'd recommend with these two?

this is the exact moment Nie Huaisang realised he was going to have to start meddling in his big brother's love life (con't: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5)

Hensheng, on the other hand, doesn't throw tantrums but WILL sulk...

[tea-cat-arts]

You know what, I've read enough fanfic. I'm confiscating Madame Yu from you guys

Free my girl- she did the things she's being accused of, but not as frequently or severely as the fandom pretends, her actions are being taken out of context, and her depth is being reduced to that of a Colleen Hoover antagonist

[stereksimp]

*It's the first night after the Void was captured. When Stiles wakes up screaming from a nightmare. He feels arms wrap around him and whispered words that he's safe now, but those are not his dad's arms or his voice. Is that a rumbling purr he hears?*

*When he opens his eyes, he's not in his room, where he fell asleep a few hours ago. He's standing in the middle of Derek's loft with said man hold him.*

Stiles: What is going on? Why am I here? How did I get here?

*The soft whispers of safty stop, but he does not release his arms or stop the purring.*

Derek: You were having a nightmare. I don't know why you're here, but for how you got here. Well, you popped in suddenly.

*Stile's heart rate is slowing down, and the smell of fear is being replaced by curiosity, so he lets the boy go and takes a step back.*

Stiles: What do you mean popped in suddenly? It doesn't feel like I walked all the way here, and I certainly did drive. Dad still has my keys.

Derek: No... you appeared here out of nowhere. You smell like magic, too.

Stiles: So I just what teleported in at 2 am. Wait, why were you awake to see me teleport in?

* He takes in Derek's appearance now. He has his shoes on and his patented leather jacket, and the keys to the Camaro are on the floor by his feet. At the sight, his heart rate starts racing again.*

Stiles: *a little frantic* Where are you going?

Derek: Nowhere.

Stiles: You are awake at 2 a.m., ready to walk out that door. *he bends down and grabs the keys, getting mad at Derek's blatant lie.* You were going to leave town, weren't you.

Derek: What. No. Ugh.

Derek: I was heading over to check on you, ok.

*Stiles' shoulders relax at that.*

Stiles: Oh. I should get back home then. Thanks for this.

*As he turns to leave Derek grabs his wrist lightly.*

Derek: You have no way to get home right now. Why don't you just sleep for a bit, then I'll take you home in the morning.

Stiles: ok, yeah, thanks.

*Before he makes I past Derek to head to the couch, Derek directs him over to the bed instead.*

Derek: You'll sleep better here.

*After Stiles lays down, Derek grabs a blanket and heads to the couch.*

*Stiles buries his head in Derek's pillows, and surprisingly, he is asleep in the next moment. Derek falls asleep listening to the calm, quiet breaths of Stiles sleeping.*

*In the morning, Stiles wakes up to voices talking. He lays there listening.*

Derek: I'm not sure, sir. He just appeared here last night after a nightmare, so I calmed him down and let him sleep here. I was going to bring him back after he woke up. If I may, how did you know he was here?

Sheriff: Oh. This isn't the first time I have found him here after he fell asleep at home. Back before you came back, I got a few calls from deputies at night about my son walking down the street in his pajamas. He was sleep walking, so I just had them follow him to make sure he stayed safe. Every time he came here. I would come find him sleeping in front of your door and bring him home. He never woke up, so he didn't know. It only happened a couple of times, so when I woke up for shift this morning and he wasn't in his bed, I just came here.

Derek: You should tell him. He deserves to know.

Sheriff: It's too soon. I'll just scared him.

Derek: Why don't you go to work and I'll make sure he gets home safely.

Sheriff: Thanks, Derek. Have him call me later.

*After the Sheriff leave Stiles sits up staring at the door.*

Stiles: You knew I was awake. Thanks.

Derek: *shrugs* You would only freak out more if you didn't have all the facts.

*Stiles smiles a bit for the first time in a while.*

[thevalleyisjolly]

It's a minor detail but I'm so emotional over Doctor Who making the universal human language in the future based on Cantonese.

[myokk]

my favorite bookworm

[imaginethathaikyuu]

akaashi keiji, fem reader, NSFW 18+ wc: 438

“use your words.” 

he’d whispered that sentence too many times to keep count, and it stayed grating. 

“keiji.” it was a struggle to speak. “you - you know what i want.” 

“i don’t,” he said, and it was a taunt. “how will i know if you won’t say it?” 

you pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt and he toppled over you, landing on a kiss. 

“just touch me.”

“where?” 

“anywhere.” 

you didn’t see his smirk but you heard it. “anywhere i want?” you nodded until you felt his hand on you. 

it started at your thigh and drifted up and up until you were gasping, but that touch was fleeting. his hand pressed flat on your stomach and pushed. 

“shit, you are sensitive.” your hips weren’t stronger than his hold keeping them in their place, but they tried to buck free. “when’s the last time somebody else made you cum?” 

“i don’t know,” you said - a whine, a cry, a beg. there were tears in your eyes that would fall with time.

his touch dipped again, this time crossing the barrier of your underwear’s hem. you made a sound like a wail, and you stayed looking at each other as his fingers wandered. 

your leg hooked over his hip like you were trying to keep him in his place, and it had him pushing closer. his forearm rested by your head, his thumb traced your hairline, his nose nudged yours. 

your staggered breathing told him where to touch you; moans of his name taught him the right pace. and it was perfect. you’d never felt anything like it, and it seemed like he could tell. 

“he doesn’t touch you like this, does he?” 

you whined, shook your head. 

“you poor thing. my poor baby.” his circling fingers sped up, and it was hard to hear his words over the ringing in your ears. “it’s not hard, is it? it doesn’t even take much time to get this cunt this wet. she just needs a little attention, huh?” 

he had one goal and was doing a good job at reaching it - almost as fast as you could.

“he’s never even found your clit, has he?” you shook your head, and then he gave that very spot a pinch until you yelped and looked at him. “answer me.” 

“no.” 

“no?” 

“he’s never - never found it. keiji, please, please.” 

and he pressed his lips against yours as his fingers sped up again, touching you just how he’d learned how to, daring to make you cum in record time. 

“it’s a good thing you have me, then, right?” 

-

send a request and i might write it ^_^

[izzystizzys]

Ever since touching down on Triple Zero, both a military and quality marker for the planet in his mind, Marshall Commander Fox had become intimately acquainted with the biting pain of headaches and migraines.

This, however, feels like it’s going to make his skull cave inside out.

“I can hear voices, Thorn”, Fox hisses, wide-eyed, breathing harshly through his nose. His bucket sadly lolls around on the pavement from where he ripped it off in a panic, unable to breathe all of a sudden. But even exposure to the open air hasn’t helped much - now, Fox just feels like a fish drowning in water, desperately breathing in the air but unable to keep it in his lungs.

“I mean, we all hear voices, ori’vod, that’s really less concerning than if you couldn’t -“, Thorn begins, hands stretched out towards Fox like he’s trying to approach a rabid beast. “Voices, Thorn!”, Fox repeats, whisper-screaming over the strange sensation of all his blood pooling in his head and ears popping. “In my kriffing head!”

Thorn’s mouth opens to gape, then closes again immediately, countenance turning decidedly more alarmed than before. Fox crumbles to the ground, head clutched in his hands, moaning in painpainpainpain-

The only thing like this he’s felt before is after one of his private meetings with the Chancellor, the one he never lets anyone else have and Fox never remembers. It feels like there’s something else in his head, worming around his thoughts and bouncing off the insides of his skull-

“- is kriffing losing it, Thire, I don’t know what to do -“

“- keep position, help is -“

“- kriffing RED ALERT, what the -“

“- do you mean a karking Venator exploded over Coruscant?!”

“- call it the Zillo Beast - it caved in the side of the ship, apparently, and is making for the surface -“

The pressure inside Fox’s head increases, warmth dripping over his cheeks and from his noise, swelling until he thinks his head really will explode, and then - stops-

Fox looks up, gasping, at the shadow that has fallen across his and Thorn’s patrol, into two massive, glowing eyes. The thing tilts its head, and chirps. It sounds like a greeting.

Silence. Then -

“You’re right”, Fox says, in a daze, “we should kill the Chancellor.”

“WHAT”, Thorn screeches.

———————————

Fox wakes an indeterminate amount of time later to a gentle breeze and nebulous feeling in his head. This is strange for several reasons - one, Guard HQ are both insulated and airconditioned like ass, thus the temperature is always wrong and the air constantly stuffy, and two - he hasn’t woken up not in pain since touching down two years ago.

“Stabby gave you the good shit”, his own voice says, and yeah, that would explain that.

“Stabby is a little bitch”, Fox tries to say, which comes out more like a warbled gurgle. “You’re welcome”, a third voice replies, sarcastically. Fox pries open his eyes with great difficulty. Ah, yes, that’s Stabby looming across the room - and Stone, next to his bedside, lounging in a chair next to a passed-out Thorn, whose head is tilted across the back of his chair at an angle that will definitely put a crick in it.

And, behind them, where the medbay wall used to be, two gigantic, glowing green eyes, tilting along with the rest of the eldritch face floating next to Fox’s bed.

“Hgngndndnsndnfnfffhhh”, he vocalizes, and Stone shrugs. “Yeah, been there the whole time. Do you remember anything?” Fox frowns. Stabby snickers somewhere from his far corner, quietly bustling around and probably concocting something nefarious to make Fox sleep or “take a break”.

Stone’s eyebrows rise incrementally. “Really? Not even when you mounted the space monster, took a joyride through half of Coruscant, crashed through the Senate Dome and battled a lightning-launching Chancellor?”

Fox blinks. The Zillo Beast chirps cheerfully. “Huh.” A sense of strange, deep satisfaction spreads through Fox’s chest, raising goosebumps. “Did we bite his head off? I think we bit his head off.”

Stone chokes, and Stabby races over to thump him on his back, Fox watching warily for any sharp objects. You never know on that one - one second he’s checking your pupils for dilation, then you’ve got a needle sticking out of you and boom, ten hours gone. Or suddenly you’re spitting out decaf - ew - at five kriffing in the morning, being lectured about heart health and some other banthashit.

Something that feels strangely like a chuckle titters across Fox’s mind, and when he looks over, the Zillo Beast is blinking innocently at him.

“Yeah, your little friend did actually bite off the Chancellor’s head” Stone confirms, once he can breathe again. Thorn slowly stirs, until he jackknifes to awareness all at once, and then Fox has a lap full of hugging vod’ika.

“ - took twenty years off my kriffing life, goddamn, ori’vod, you’re giving me grey hair -“

“It’ll match your old man bones”, Stabby murmurs, making Thorn screech indignantly into the top of Fox’s head. The Zillo Beast trills mournfully, aiming a sad look at the medic, who shakes his head and brandishes a hypo at the thing. Fox wonders if he’ll have to intervene - he would try to hypo an eldritch space monster, the absolute lunatic. “Absolutely not - we talked about this, no scritchies until we can be sure it won’t bust more of Fox’s ribs!”

Fox’s mouth opens, and Thorn snickers mercilessly. Stone, far too dignified for it, buries a grin in a datapad. “It’s imprinted on you, Fox’ika”, he says instead, the traitor. “Tried to gte to you in the Jedi temple, but it wouldn’t fit - which is when we brought you here. The interior design was so butt-kriffing ugly it wouldn’t matter much to tear it out.”

“Imprinted?”, Fox asks, not even willing to touch on anything else that’s been said yet. An image flashes across the inside of his skull - him, tossing a space-tennis-ball into the air, and the Zillo Beast slithering off after it. In reality, it perks up and mrows hopefully at Fox God, he wishes he was still insensate. Thorn snickers again, and the desire increases tenfold.

“Yeah, like in that one holoshow, whatchacallit - with that one blonde chick, the Mother of Krayts - you know, the one that made Hound cry when they killed the loth wolves so we had to ban it in barracks?” Thorn’s eyes light up. “Wait, does that make you the mother of Zillos?!”

“Oooh, mummy Fox!”, Stabby screeches, the absolute traitor. Stone breaks out into barking laughter, and Thorn sounds like he’s actively asphyxiating. Fox hates them. Fox turns to the Zillo Beast.

“Please, please eat them.”

[blueberrybluestar]

this is so stupidly funny to me

[silverwhittlingknife]

OKAY SO i have been rereading dustorange's wonderful post here about Dick in an UtRH-esque scenario where he dies & then comes back to life

AND I HAVE INCOHERENT BRAINSTORMING THOUGHTS:

so first, i think Robin!Dick would be just as hurt by the discovery that Bruce has a new Robin, and brood about it - but i think the shame of having died would stop him from confronting Bruce about it the way Nightwing!Dick does in canon.

and I do NOT think that he would expect Bruce to kill anyone for him (or even be upset that he doesn't? I just don't think this would be a consideration for Dick. he's gonna be fixated on "I failed." so he'll be upset about being replaced but not about the lack of revenge. and if Bruce did take revenge, i think he'd actually feel angry and betrayed about that because it'd feel like the choice was taken away from him, a la how upset he gets when he thinks Bruce has arranged to have Zucco killed - even if he intellectually knows that Bruce wasn't deliberately undermining himbecause he didn't know Dick was gonna come back to life.)

anyway so what WOULD he do??

what comes to mind is something along the lines of "Dick obsessively keeps an eye on Batman & Robin even while telling himself that he's not"

and then - say - if it's Robin!Tim (i feel like this has to be Tim because in the world where Dick dies there is no way that Bruce is voluntarily picking a new Robin), then maybe the moment when Dick steps in is when Bruce is in danger & he's furious / critical of Tim for not protecting Bruce well enough

and i feel like that's how he'd channel the hurt feelings - it'd all be deflected under shame and obligation, and then translated into the anger of "you replaced me & yet you're failing to do the job that you're supposed to do" (which is actually about projection/self-hatred because Dick would actually be mad at himself for having died & not doing that job anymore)

and Dick wouldn't want to see Bruce at all because of the shame over dying & subconscious fear that Bruce doesn't want him back, plus every little thing that Tim does differently would drive him NUTS because it implies that maybe the way Dick did things wasn't good enough for Bruce

i'm actually kind of fascinated by this now. because i am me and i have (1) obsession i am mostly invested in the dick & tim side of it sdfsdfds

so i'm picturing Tim very stung by whatever critical things Dick said to him & tracking this mysterious vigilante down, and then Dick doesn't want to spend ANY time with him BUT he's also subconsciously desperate for news of Bruce!!! so then something something Dick starts sorta training him a la Tim's various contacts with edgy non-batman-aligned vigilantes, and Tim's very defensive about how he IS a good robin so THERE but of course he's also defensive because he's secretly worried he's not good enough.

normally i would have tim Recognize dick since recognizing dick is tim's most basic skill HOWEVER i think it would be much more fun if tim doesn't recognize him so he can give dick a speech about legacy & the first robin: "i do x and such because that's how the first robin did it so it is Objectively Correct." which Dick will find incredibly infuriating but will be unable to counter since he cannot counter with 'the 1st robin was ME'

…hmmm i do think Dick ought to be angry about SOMETHING about batman's methods/attitude just because that's more dynamic? I feel like in order to make the adaptation work, there ought to be SOME kind of argument with Bruce right before he dies that he can still be mad about, a la the garzonas fight for Jason and Bruce. unsure what though?

okay let's see: I feel like Dick's main arguments with Bruce aren't about vigilante issues per se so much as they're about working in a team - so e.g.

1) Bruce being controlling/demanding, and 2) Bruce being secretive and doing stuff behind Dick's back, and 3) Bruce not allowing Dick enough autonomy, 4) just generally a perceived lack of trust.

SO maybe whatever The Frustrating Thing that bruce was doing when dick died is a thing he's STILL doing with this new robin, and dick is getting frustrated all over again sorta on tim's behalf but mostly on his own behalf because he never got to resolve this with bruce

but anyway that way when Bruce finally spots disguised!Dick, then they can have the fight again before Bruce realizes who he is <3

[mushiimune]

I've kept this headcanon to myself for years but I think Mush would keep a little blue marble in a pouch in his pocket because it reminds him of Blink's eye. He'd reveal it by accident one day. Blink is shocked but not totally surprised, because Mush is sentimental like that.

Blink plays it cool, even though he's absolutely melting inside because how ever did he manage to find somebody so endearing to have on his side?

[yayswag]

rlly silly doodles based off of a post the hc goat @tegr1dy made about stan and kyle adult braces that had me laying awake at night 😭😭😭

[solarmorrigan]

For the dialogue prompt, how about “What happened doesn’t change anything” for either Steddie or Newmann?

Thank you!

Hello hello hello I finally have something for you! I chose Steddie for this one, since I was on a roll. I hope this suits!

[post-S2 Steddie AU; CW: Outing, transphobia, some internalized transphobia; soft ending guaranteed, though]

-

When he sees Hagan meandering over towards them in the parking lot after school, his queen bee tagalong, Perkins, in tow, Eddie knows nothing good is going to follow. The way he feels Steve shift beside him says that he suspects much the same. The rest of the Hellfire guys, all gathered around Eddie’s van, talking and joking before heading home, have fallen silent.

It’s a small consolation that Hagan isn’t trailing Hargrove; since putting Steve in the hospital (briefly, Steve always interjects) last November, Hargrove has mostly given him—and the members of the Hellfire Club, once Steve had been taken into their fold—a fairly wide berth. Hagan, however, has had no compunctions about hassling Steve whenever he gets a bug up his ass about something, and he’s only become nastier since he started toadying for Hargrove.

So Eddie expects trouble, but he hadn’t expected–

Hagan starts small, crowing about how Steve has finally found his rightful place: among the freaks. Steve doesn’t give anything away, no displeasure, no anger, just bored indifference – the same mask he’s always hidden behind (the one Eddie had learned pretty quickly to see past, once he knew what to look for). But Hagan pushes.

“I guess the freaks already have a king,” Hagan snipes, cutting a glance at Eddie, “but I’m sure he needs a lady to rule by his side, right, Stevie?”

It seems like an unoriginal sort of dig—calling Steve a girl, how creative—except Steve goes pale. The mask slips, showing wide and frightened eyes for just a moment, but for Hagan, who’s known Steve for years, it’s long enough. He knows he’s hit something good.

“Do all your new little friends know, Stevie-boy? What makes you fit right in with them?” Hagan glances around the group, apparently enjoying the fact that if looks could kill, he’d be dead four times over. Then he leans in and practically spits at Steve, “Do they know that they got into your pants, you’d be less of a King Steve and more of a Queen Stacy?”

And that does it – shatters Steve’s mask so thoroughly that he actually takes a step back, staring at Hagan with a kind of disbelieving betrayal frozen on his face.

The full meaning of the words hits Eddie about three seconds before Hagan hits the side of the van, one of Eddie’s hands fisted in the front of his t-shirt and the other held firm at the base of his throat – not hurting, exactly, but heavily implying that he could.

Eddie doesn’t even have to reach for one of the many theatrical voices he uses to rile people up or cow them into submission; he’s so thoroughly taken by a type of rage he hasn’t let himself give into in a long time that his tone comes out perfectly threatening all on its own.

“If you ever repeat what you just said to another person, I will find out, and I will make your life a living hell,” he hisses.

Somewhere behind him, someone—it might be Jeff, though Eddie isn’t sure—clears their throat, and when Eddie tosses a glance over his shoulder, he finds the rest of Hellfire standing firm at his back (even tiny underclassman Gareth, with his arms crossed and the meanest look on his face the poor kid can muster).

“Ah, my apologies,” Eddie says as he faces front again, flashing a manic little grin, “we will find out. And we’ll ruin your life, Hagan. Same goes for your girlfriend.”

Perkins, who had been standing off to the side as the snickering peanut gallery right up until Eddie had pinned Hagan to the side of the van, makes a choked noise of offense that goes entirely ignored.

“Tell me you understand, Tommy-boy.” Eddie punctuates the command with a flex of his fingers near Hagan’s throat, until Hagan reluctantly nods, and Eddie releases him. “Glad we’re in agreement.”

Hagan and Perkins hightail it the other side of the parking lot, leaving them be with nothing more than a nasty look from Perkins, but no one is much in the mood to chat after that. No one really knows what to say – except Steve, who offers a quiet thanks to the rest of the guys and, having caught a ride in with Eddie that morning, then asks to be taken home.

Even with the radio playing quietly as Eddie drives, the atmosphere in the van feels silent and stifling.

Asking Steve if he’s alright feels like kind of a ridiculous move. Eddie wouldn’t be alright if he was in Steve’s position – hell, Eddie’s not alright. He’s pissed. But from the way Steve is sitting rigidly in the passenger seat, staring out the window like Eddie is driving him to his execution, Eddie’s anger—even on his behalf—isn’t what he needs right now.

Slowly, Eddie forces himself to let it go (for now, at least for now) and follow the familiar roads home.

It feels perfectly natural to simply head back to his place, where they’d been planning to go before that shitshow of a confrontation, though the surprise on Steve’s face when they pull up to the trailer says that he’d thought otherwise.

“You could’ve just taken me back to my house. I wouldn’t– I’d get it,” he says, and Eddie frowns at him.

“Did you want to go back to your house? We can hang out there if you want, I just figured…” Eddie tilts his head regarding him carefully. “You seem more comfortable here.”

Steve stares at him for a long moment, blank and uncertain, before he breaks back into motion with a shrug. “Okay,” he says, moving to get out of the van.

They head inside and nod a quick hello to Wayne, who looks like he’s just woken up in preparation for his shift, and then they go straight back to Eddie’s room. Eddie’s bag goes on the desk, but Steve’s goes by the door. Eddie sits down on the bed (admittedly one of the few places to sit, but also an invitation for Steve to come sit next to him) but Steve – Steve hesitates before leaning up against the wall, by the door with his bag, arms crossed and gaze cast towards the floor.

He looks ready to run at any moment, and Eddie sighs. This thing between them is new – so new that they’ve been afraid to put a label to it, dancing around each other uncertainly for months before sharing their first kiss barely a month ago. They’ve spent almost every available moment since with their hands on each other in some way or another, though Steve has been a bit skittish about moving past making out (Eddie had thought that maybe it was the unfamiliarity of being with another guy, but he thinks he might have a better understanding of the picture now).

Eddie doesn’t want to break things by pushing too hard, but somehow, he thinks leaving it unaddressed would be worse.

“Look, we don’t have to talk about it,” he says, watching Steve, though Steve still isn’t looking back, “but if you want to…”

Steve shrugs. “I wasn’t hiding it from you,” he says, finally glancing up at Eddie. “I mean, I was, but not– I was going to tell you.”

“You don’t owe me any kind of explanation,” Eddie says.

“You would’ve found out eventually, either way.” Steve lets out a sound that suggests he may have been trying to laugh. “But it was – I should’ve been the one to tell you. That was – that was mine to tell.”

A little bit of Eddie breaks as Steve’s voice does. He’s almost vibrating with the desire to hold and to reassure, to go over to where Steve is standing, still propped against the wall, practically curling in on himself (trying to make himself smaller), but he’s not sure how well it would be received. He tries words, instead.

“Steve, I’m so sorry–”

“That was the one thing,” Steve snaps, anger tearing across his tone, “the one thing Tommy would never touch, the one thing that was off limits, even he knew– and he just–” As quickly as it had come, the anger goes, taking Steve’s energy with it. He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes and lets his hands slide down to cover his face; when he speaks again, he sounds small. “I wasn’t ready.”

Eddie couldn’t keep himself from crossing the room if he’d tried – though isn’t trying, after that. He’s up off the bed and into Steve’s space before he’s even realized, and it’s probably only his proximity that allows him to hear what Steve says next.

“I’m not ready for things to change between us.”

“Steve,” Eddie says, low and careful, “what happened doesn’t change anything.”

Steve pulls his hands away from his face with a derisive little huff of a laugh. His cheeks are red and his eyes are bright; he’s not crying, but it looks like a near thing.

“It’s – like, I get it. You’re fully into guys, and I’m…” He waves his hands down at himself, sharp and frustrated. “Most people wouldn’t call me a real guy, if they knew.”

“Since when am I most people?” Eddie asks. “You say you’re a guy, you’re a real guy, fucking end of. Anyone who thinks otherwise can fuck off.”

Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes, clearly trying to hold back a much more emotional reaction, and Eddie chances resting his hands on Steve’s shoulders. Steve doesn’t move away, even eases a little into the touch when Eddie starts circling his thumbs at the skin right where his shirt collar ends.

“You don’t have to believe me right now,” Eddie says softly. “But I like you, Steve. I like you, andI’m gonna stick around and prove it to you.”

Something about the declaration makes Steve’s eyes snap right to Eddie’s, searching, anxious and cautiously hopeful, and Eddie lets him look. Whatever he’s after, maybe he finds it, because he uncurls from himself a little after that, just enough to lean in for a hesitant kiss that becomes much more certain when Eddie himself doesn’t hold back.

Eddie pulls Steve back over to the bed after that, poking and prodding him around until they’re both settled, Eddie’s back to the pillows and Steve’s back to Eddie’s chest (Steve’s never said as much, but Eddie’s gathered that this is one of his favorite positions to cuddle in; he doubts if Steve’s spent much time being the little spoon).

“Tell me something else,” Eddie says, once he’s got his arms wrapped securely around Steve’s waist.

“What?” Steve asks.

“Tell me something that you want me to know.” Eddie leans forward to press a kiss to Steve’s temple. “Anything.”

For a moment, Steve is quiet, thinking as he traces absent patterns over Eddie’s forearms. “I could tell you why I picked Steve,” he says finally.

“If you want to, I’d love to hear it,” Eddie says.

“It wasn’t because it was sort of close to my… old name. That was actually kind of a coincidence.” Steve lets his head fall back against Eddie’s shoulder, the tension that’s been wound through him for the last hour finally starting to ease. “Steven was my grandad’s name.”

“Yeah?” Eddie prompts softly.

“Yeah. My mom’s dad. I used to spend a lot of time over at his house when I was a kid. Before he died. I kind of got the feeling he liked me more than my parents did.” Eddie gives Steve a squeeze around the middle. “But he used to tell me all these stories about fighting in World War II. Probably not very age-appropriate, now that I think about it, but at the time I really ate it up.

“He didn’t really, like… glorify it, I don’t think? He just kind of told me what happened, good or bad, and whatever the story was, I always thought he sounded, y’know – strong and brave. And when I wanted to pick a new name…” Steve shrugs against Eddie. “I kind of hoped he wouldn’t mind sharing his with me.”

“Bet he’d be honored,” Eddie says, giving Steve another little squeeze.

“Some days I’m not so sure,” Steve says quietly.

“Well I am. I’ll just have to stick around and prove that to you, too,” Eddie says decisively.

Briefly, Steve’s hands tighten where they rest on Eddie’s arms. “I like the sound of that,” he says, and Eddie turns so he can press another kiss to the side of Steve’s head.

“Good,” he says. “Me too.”