Baby Bi, Bi, Bi

I know it’s pretty funny to joke that Steph forcibly inserted herself into the Batfamily and never left while the others are like ‘Steph you don’t even live here’ but in my opinion its absolutely the other way around.

From her history with Bruce and stuff there’s a part of Steph that holds all her insecurities and is just thinking, ‘I could be locked out of the bat cave at any minute’ no matter how illogical that is. So Steph is of the general mindset of ‘these are my trusted crime fighting allies who I care about very much but I’m not part of their family because I have a mom and it doesn’t matter anyway because all I really want is to help people and make sure less people become victims of crime’. She cares about them all more than anything but she wont let herself feel like she means too much to them.

Meanwhile the Batfamily are just like ‘that’s Steph our little ray of sunshine we love her and she’s 100 percent ours and we’re just waiting for Tim or Cass to marry her in so she’s legally a member of this family as well’.

Steph convincing herself she’s not a member of the bat family due to insecurities and the Bat family being like ‘exCUSE YOU! You are absolutely a member of this family!’   

You know what would even be funnier in the Scandalore verse? Obi Wan and Satine have been secretly married for years. They were waiting for Obi Wan to finish training and then there was Anakin and then the war and Anakin has an epic conniption because he really could gave used some how to be sekritly married tips

OH GOOD LORD, SOMEONE WRITE THIS. Secretly Married Obi-Wan is killing me. Like, Obi-Wan keeps meaning to say something, keeps meaning to resign from the order so that he can go BE WITH HIS WIFE but…he doesn’t want to set a bad example or anything and this KID is here now and…well, he’ll figure it out later. Attachments are forbidden, Anakin! Hang on, I have to go…to Mandalore…for reasons. I’ll be right back! Politicians are not to be trusted byeeeeee!

Satine is going to be so epically annoyed with him for dragging his feet on this. ARE YOU ASHAMED OF ME, OBI-WAN KENOBI?! WELL THEN MAYBE YOU’LL ENJOY SLEEPING ON THE COUCH. *throws a martini into the wall*

Can you even IMAGINE Anakin’s face when he learns this Important Information? Oh my God. 

emerge anew

https://ashes-and-ashes-dust-and-dust.tumblr.com/post/183716349959/so-i-just-reread-the-entire-percy-jackson-series

Ugh because I like torturing myself, let’s keep going on this tangent.

Imagine afterwards. The magical campfire, the one that amplifies all positive emotions suddenly goes out. For the first time in almost 300 years, it just…extinguishes.

Nico is the first to leave. How can he explain it to the others, what Jason meant to him? How can he explain Cupid and the running and the hiding? He’s never been good with feelings, never been good with others, and so he just turns on his heel and leaves. Walks straight into the forest, not even bothering to bring any protection with him. Will follows him a moment after, because he known Nico and he knows that if he didn’t go with him, Nico might not come back out.

Frank is the one who has to make the call to Reyna. He stands in the stall, feeds the Drachma through and waits. Everything is still so horribly clear, burning through his head, and it takes less then a minute before the call is patched through.

It hurts. Reyna seems so much happier now, an easy smile on her face as she sits down. “Any news from the Greeks?” she asks. “Oh, that reminds me, I need you to verify these temple plans that Jason sent over…”

She trails off as she sees the look on Frank’s face. “Is everything alright…?”

Frank closes his eyes. Opens his mouth. Tells her everything.

When he’s down, Reyna is motionless. Her face has turned to stone, perfectly still as she sits on purple couch. It’s one of the things Frank always admired about her, the way she was able to shut down her emotions, create that mask of marble that nothing can penetrate.

There’s a silence, echoing and haunting, Reyna so, so still. She tilts her head, closed her eyes, then with a sudden movement, hurls a dagger into the wall. It sticks cleanly, quivering through the wood, and she’s stalked out of the tent before Frank can say anything else.

He ends the call, grimacing, the pain in his chest growing as he stares at the wooden wall in front of him.

Piper lies on her bed and screams.

She’s been screaming for hours, days even, because it’s so goddamn unfair. She’s saved the world, out the Earth Mother to sleep, risked her life and her family’s life, done everything she fucking could go protect everyone, and the fucking Gods couldn’t even give her Jason.

So she lies there, and she screams and screams and screams, and when she finally stops, Drew Tanaka comes over and purses her lips. “Well,” she says. “He was a hero. Heroes die young.”

And Piper snaps.

It takes the whole Aphrodite cabin plus half of the Ares cabin to pull her off of Drew. She’s clawing and biting, throwing punches and roaring and Lacey is holding her back and Drew is unconscious on the ground and there is blood everywhere. Someone is stroking her, holding her back and she can dimly hear someone say, “Yeah, she was one of the 7 heroes.”

The words burn, deep inside of her, and Piper is falling as she screams with all the rage and anger and magic inside of her “I DON’T WANT TO BE A HERO. I NEVER FUCKING WANTED TO BE ONE.”

She can hear gasps, feels something getting stuck into her arm, but Piper is beyond caring as she lets herself fade into the darkness.

Annabeth makes the call to Thalia.

She sits, crossed legged on the ground, cradling the phone in her lap. Hazel sits next to her, face still blank with shock, and they listen to the dial tone ring.

When Thalia picks up, Annabeth closes her eyes. Tells her that her little brother is dead.

There’s a pause, an absolute silence. Annabeth closes her eyes, because she knows Thalia, knows the rage sorrow that surely was flowing through her now -

Thalia howls.

An echoing, agonized scream, the sound of someone who was the only one left. A wordless cry because how can you explain loss like that? How can you keep on taking, keep on stealing, keep on ripping everything away and not expect someone to fall apart? Hazel bursts into tears at that, and Thalia is stil screaming and all Annabeth can do is close her eyes and cry.

Leo sits on the beach.

He’s curled into a ball, buried into the sand and he keeps expecting Jason to come, keeps expecting him to soar through the stars and land.

Because he can’t be dead, can he? He couldn’t be dead, not after all they went through.

Leo squeezes the sand, lets it seep through his fingers. He spent his whole life building, sacrificed his life to stop Gaia, sacrificed his life so that the others didn’t have to do the same and no it was all meaningless.

They all had paid. Over and over again, they had paid and it still wasn’t enough.

The flames erupt now, fast and sudden, so hot that Leo can feel the skin on his hand start to blister and burn. He can’t do anything about the flames though, just lets it burn and burn and burn until everything turns to glass.

When he opens his eyes, the glass in his hand has solidified, turned to an opaque sphere. Leo just stands, and shatters it on the rocks.

Will finds Nico kneeling in the forest.

It’s difficult. He’s never really known the Son of Jupiter, beyond the occasional hellos and goodbyes. He can’t even remember the last time they talked - something about Apollo and Prophecies and Delphi.

But he knows. Nico told him once, when the nightmares were bad, about ruins and Jason and the god of love. Will’s never felt like that, brittle and thin and stretched to the breaking point, but he understands his boyfriend’s pain.

He comes up behind Nico, wraps his arms around him. He’s trembling, deathly cold, and Will closes his eyes.

When the bones erupt around him, Will stiffens, but doesn’t let go. He jut holds Nico tighter, lets his tears fall onto the ground, and lets the skeletons form a dome around them.

Hazel sits next to Frank.

They are both numb. Both in shock. They can’t do anything but sit next to each other, weapons clinking funky against the log. They had both grown up with the stories, of Jason, the Hero, the Praetor of New Rome.

He had become that, again. Nothing more then a story now, someone who only lived inside of them.

Hazel hated it.

What was the point of being a hero, if you couldn’t even save the people you loved? What was the point of trying, when everything was ripped away.

She thought they were safe. She had never been more wrong.

Percy was furious.

He slams his sword into the monster over and over again, until his fists are bruised and bleeding. He’s covered in dust, enough to turn his skin white and his hair lighter, so that if he turns quickly enough the glimpse in the mirror almost looks like him.

He didn’t know how many monsters he killed - 50, 60, 70. Enough that he was choking on it, choking on air, choking on the hate that was welling up inside of him and refused to disappear.

He always used to wonder who the strongest hero was. Always used to wonder if they would ever find out, him and Jason, if there would ever be a war where they would be on opposite sides. He supposed he’d never know now.

And then he’s screaming, his sword clutched in his hand and he knows, he knows that nothing will bring Jason back but he can damn well try, and Percy thinks that he’d do it, he’d rip down the world and drown it, he’d fight the gods themselves if it meant that his friends could live in peace.

Percy wipes his sword, the blood soaking through the orange of his shirt and heads off to find more to kill.

If you were offered a chance to write a single issue batman story, what would you write?

Okay, presuming this is in a main book like Detective Comics itself, rather than any particular character’s solo? 

I mean, obviously the instinct is to say a story about Steph, or about Cass, but honestly? What I’d really love to write? 

I’d love to write a down-to-Earth ordinary people of Gotham story. Some ordinary person; I’d probably go with a single mom, poor, working some menial job, living in some crappy apartment, constantly stressed out.

I’d follow her around and show Gotham from her perspective. Look at how, despite the money being poured into it by Bruce Wayne and other wealthy individuals, the system itself isn’t working, she can’t trust the police, and things are hard. See the rough situation she’s finding herself in. 

She gets mugged, or something similar, and she’s angry and bitter, and she ends up breaking down. And then her daughter comes out. Wearing some sort of shirt with a Robin logo on it, and she tells her mom that it’s going to be okay. 

And then there’s a knock at the window, and it’s one of the Batkids. I’d probably make it Spoiler!Steph because I’m me, but it could easily be Cass or Duke or any of the others. They’re bringing back her wallet because they caught the mugger who robbed her, and ask if she’s hurt. She’s not, and they’re gone before she can say thank you. 

She checks the wallet. 

That money wasn’t there when she got robbed. It’s stuffed full of cash. 

And we see her next day. And we see things are just a little better. We see her help out someone who’s in a pinch. We see her smile, just a little more. We see her get the mail and her building is being bought by Wayne Enterprises, who’re going to be remodeling, but they promise her rent won’t go up. 

We see, bit by bit, how the Bats are making things better. Because I think we lose that a lot, in superhero stories. We joke about how Bruce Wayne should be able to solve all of Gotham’s problems just by paying his taxes, and superheroes themselves question if they help a lot. 

And I’d want to show a story where the answer is a clear and definitive yes. I’d want to tell a story where we see the good that Bruce and all of the Bats are doing, both in and out of costume, and how that positive effect is spreading, even though it’s not fixing everything right away. 

And at the end of the story, we see her reading a book to her daughter, and through the window, we can see the Bat Symbol, and the hint of a cape, as if someone’s checking in on them. 

Also I’d love it to be illustrated by Mitch Gerads, because I really liked his style on Mister Miracle. Or like, David Aja from Fraction’s Hawkeye. Something like that. 

Bruce is not hiding.

He’s simply…. giving Damian an opportunity to brush up on his sleuthing skills. It’s a warm gesture of affection— one that happened to involve him slipping silently into the den with a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough clutched to his chest. He’s beyond grateful that the lights are dimmed to the lowest setting and the loud, abrasive program Steph’s watching is turned up almost all the way.

This gives him room to be a bit clumsy in his getaway— er, teaching moment.

There’s a spot beneath a side table that sits beneath the shadows of the television. With his dignity intact, he crawls in and curls himself up as much as he can.

Freedom.

He gets five minutes of peace with the precious container of stolen goods. Three hundred seconds of nothing but sweet, cold goodness on a silver spoon. No complaints or demands. No pouty mouths or sniffling noses. Just freedom.

And then, the show cuts to a commercial break. Stephanie turns to him in slow motion, sees the cargo he’s handling and grins— wide and devilish. It has him holding the perspiration slick pint closer to his chest like a distressed damsel clutching her skirt.

“Why’re you hiding?”

“Not hiding.” He shovels a spoonful into his mouth, wincing as the chill sends a jarring wave of pain through his teeth. “Training exercise.”

She nods, still smiling. “And it wouldn’t help if Spoiler gave Robin the exact details of the thief that stole his last pint of ice cream.”

“We try not to encourage homicides remember.”

“Dami—”

He’s outbof his nook and has a hand over her mouth before she can finish. “You’re evil.”

She leaves a glob of spit in his palm. He sometimes forgets the sheer immaturity teenagers could possess.

“Get me Tim’s pint of chunky monkey and I’ll stay mum.”

“You’ll spoil your dinner.”

She raises both hands, feigning surrender, but there’s a spoon in one and his ice cream in the other. “Damian’ll ruin your face.”

“I never raised you to be so evil.”

“Bruce you didn’t even raise me.”

“Hnn.”

She makes a shooing motion with the spoon. “Go execute our deal, old man. I’ll protect your contraband.”

i love writing luke’s tendency to be a feral little man like Yes he’s the savior of the galaxy Yes he’s a pure hearted beam of sunshine BUT he came from a hick town in the Outer Rim with nothing to do but hang out in bars and use ROUSes as target practice AND he shares DNA with anakin skywalker so he can drink Han under the table and thinks traffic laws are a joke send tweet

kevin, helping aaron get ready for his trial: i would like to represent my client’s internet search history from that evening

aaron, leaning into the fake mic: i’d rather just confess to the murder

how tall is bruce and thomas wayne?

in saih bruce is 6′2″ and thomas was 6′5″

at superman's secret base: fortress of solitude, complete silence, memoir for the fallen krypton, v serious place, only 3 people granted access

at batman's secret base: I AM 200% SURE I DID NOT ADOPT THAT ONE, SOMEONE TELL ME WHY DAMIAN IS LICKING THE DINOSAUR, WHICH ONE OF U BRATS BLED ALL OVER THE BATHROOM, WHO LET THE GREEN FLASHLIGHT IN HERE, ALFRED!!!!