#how to stop bats

[exterminatepestcontrol]

How To Stop Bats

How to Stop Bats from Getting Into Your Attic: Complete Prevention Guide

Discovering bats in your attic can be alarming for any homeowner. These nocturnal mammals often seek shelter in warm, dark spaces like attics, where they can roost undisturbed. While bats play an important ecological role by controlling insect populations, having them in your home poses health risks and structural concerns. This comprehensive guide explains how to prevent bats from entering your attic and when to call professional pest control services.

Why Bats Choose Attics

Bats are attracted to attics because they provide ideal roosting conditions. Attics offer warmth, darkness, minimal human disturbance, and protection from predators and weather. Common bat species in Ireland, including the common pipistrelle and brown long-eared bat, actively seek these environments, especially during breeding season from May to August.

The most common entry points include gaps under roof tiles, damaged soffits, loose fascia boards, broken ventilation screens, and cracks around chimneys. Bats can squeeze through openings as small as 1.5 centimeters, making even minor structural gaps potential access routes.

Signs of Bats in Your Attic

Early detection is crucial for effective bat prevention. Key warning signs include scratching or squeaking sounds at dusk or dawn, dark stains around potential entry points from bat fur oils, small dark droppings that crumble easily when touched, strong ammonia-like odors from bat urine, and visible bats flying around your roofline during evening hours.

If you notice these signs, it's important to act quickly before a small problem becomes a major infestation.

Essential Bat Prevention Methods

Seal Entry Points

The most effective prevention strategy involves thoroughly sealing all potential entry points. Inspect your roof, soffits, and fascia boards for gaps, cracks, or damaged areas. Use appropriate materials for different locations - expanding foam for small cracks, steel wool for medium gaps, and metal mesh or hardware cloth for larger openings.

Pay special attention to areas where different building materials meet, as these joints often develop gaps over time. Ensure all roof vents have intact screens and that chimney caps are properly installed and maintained.

Install Exclusion Devices

One-way exclusion tubes allow bats already inside to exit while preventing re-entry. These devices should only be installed outside of breeding season (September to April in Ireland) to avoid trapping flightless young bats. Professional installation ensures these devices work effectively without harming the bats.

Ultrasonic Exclusion Devices

Ultrasonic exclusion devices that have changeable frequencies couples with flashing diverse light sequences can make the attic an undersireable location for bats.

Maintain Your Property

Regular maintenance prevents the structural issues that create bat entry points. Keep gutters clean and in good repair, trim tree branches that hang over your roof, repair damaged roof tiles promptly, and ensure proper attic ventilation to reduce moisture that can weaken structural materials.

Environmental Modifications

While not always practical, certain environmental changes can make your property less attractive to bats. Installing bright security lights near potential roosting areas can deter some species, though this method has limited effectiveness and may disturb neighbors.

Legal Considerations in Ireland

All bat species in Ireland are protected under the Wildlife Act 1976 and EU Habitats Directive. It's illegal to disturb, harm, or kill bats or destroy their roosts without proper licenses. This legal protection means that prevention is far more practical and cost-effective than dealing with an established colony.

If bats are already present, you must wait until they naturally leave (typically September to April) before sealing entry points. During breeding season, any exclusion work requires consultation with the National Parks and Wildlife Service.

When to Call Professional Pest Control

While some prevention measures can be DIY projects, professional intervention is recommended for comprehensive attic inspections, existing bat infestations, complex structural repairs, situations requiring specialized equipment, and when legal compliance is uncertain.

Professional pest control technicians have the expertise to identify all potential entry points, understand local bat behavior patterns, and ensure all work complies with wildlife protection laws. They can also provide warranties on their exclusion work and ongoing monitoring services.

Health and Safety Concerns

Bats can carry diseases including rabies (though rare in Ireland) and histoplasmosis from accumulated droppings. Their droppings can also attract other pests and create respiratory issues. Additionally, bat colonies can cause structural damage through accumulated waste and urine staining.

Professional handling ensures both human safety and bat welfare, as trained technicians use appropriate protective equipment and follow established protocols.

Prevention Timeline and Maintenance

Effective bat prevention requires ongoing attention. Conduct thorough property inspections twice yearly, ideally in spring and autumn. Monitor previously sealed areas for new damage, maintain exclusion devices, and keep detailed records of any bat activity.

The best time for prevention work is late autumn through early spring when bats are less active and not breeding. This timing ensures you won't inadvertently trap bats inside your home.

Cost-Effective Prevention Strategies

Investing in prevention is significantly more cost-effective than dealing with an established bat colony. Simple measures like regular maintenance and prompt repairs can prevent costly exclusion work later. Professional inspections may seem expensive initially but can identify potential problems before they become major issues.

Consider bundling bat prevention with other pest control services or home maintenance tasks to maximize value and efficiency.

Professional Bat Control Services

When choosing a pest control company, look for proper licensing and insurance, experience with bat exclusion specifically, knowledge of local wildlife laws, use of humane exclusion methods, and comprehensive service warranties.

Reputable companies will provide detailed inspection reports, explain all work being performed, offer ongoing monitoring services, and guarantee their exclusion work for specified periods.

Conclusion

Preventing bats from entering your attic requires a combination of structural maintenance, proper exclusion techniques, and understanding of bat behavior and legal requirements. While some prevention measures can be handled by homeowners, professional pest control services ensure comprehensive protection and legal compliance.

Early prevention is always more effective and affordable than dealing with an established bat colony. Regular property maintenance, prompt repairs, and professional inspections create the best defense against bat intrusions.

For expert bat prevention and exclusion services in Ireland, contact experienced pest control professionals who understand local bat species, legal requirements, and effective exclusion techniques. Professional services provide peace of mind and long-term protection for your home.

For professional bat exclusion services in Ireland, contact Exterminate.ie. Our experienced technicians provide humane, effective, and legally compliant bat prevention solutions tailored to your specific property needs.

[casscainmainly]

No because you see Duke was FORGED by his parents everything he does is in service of THEM to HONOUR their legacies. But Cass was forged IN SPITE of David Cain everything she does is not about HIM but to TAKE CONTROL of her destiny. And Batgirl was her, it was Cass it was all of her, it was the first thing she ever owned; and Robin was his but also theirs, it was Duke and his friends and Damian and the people Duke loves, it was something they shared. But now Cass shares Batgirl with Steph like a hoodie because she loves her, because she can now forge a community around her she never had as a kid. And now Duke becomes the Signal because he's forging his own path, because he's directly honouring his mother rather than using another mother's legacy, maintaining his focus on community but also celebrating what makes him special. They're SO DIFFERENT but they LOVE EACH OTHER and family is so so important to both of them do you even understand what it means for Duke to call Cass his sister??? And for Cass to let him??? These two people for whom family means very different things but is so fundamental to who they are, for them to meet and choose each other means THE WORLD. DUKE & CASS FOREVER

[kermdoeswriting]

Bruce Wayne died the very same night his parents were murdered brutally in front of him. In an alleyway near his favorite theater in Park Row.

Its a simple well known fact to those that are EXTREMELY closest to him.

The problem was that he just wasn't aware of how seriously true that fact was until a young ghostling approached him to talk about entering his "haunt" semi-permanently.

Both to attend university (Bruce DID have some concerns about this teenage ghost attending classes when he was dead but more so for the ghost themselves and not the students) and to talk about getting the Batman some help for his currently unstable "core".

Something that seemed to be making him run around more violently over the years compared to a regular ghosts core and was affecting his ghostling children the longer it continued like that.

Either way, Bruce was concerned that the ghost was just seeing things wrong and Danny seemed equally as concerned as to what could have POSSIBLY made his subjects core this broken inside and if it could even be fixed-

[gingerswagfreckles]

There is a lot of misinformation going around about Mahmoud Khalil. Please read this if you have read or posted about the case.

Mahmoud Khalil was arrested on March 9th by ICE agents in public, as he was returning to his apartment. His arrest was legal and was conducted in a legal manner. Neither ICE nor the police need a warrant to arrest someone in public, on the street.

Mr. Khalil has not been "dissappeared." He is being held in Central Louisiana ICE Processing Center in Jena, Louisiana. He has been assigned a public defender. Her name is Amy Greene. He has a deportation hearing set for tomorrow (March 12th) with a judge, in which the judge will review the case.

The Department of Homeland Security has accused Mr. Khalil of leading pro Hamas rallies on the Columbia University campus and publishing/passing out pro Hamas fliers that included the Hamas logo. He has not been "charged," because he does not have to be charged under US law. Under US law, a greencard holder has a right to a hearing with a judge to determine whether or not they violated the terms of their greencard. One does not need to be convicted by a jury to be deported for supporting terrorist organizations. This is not a comment on whether or not this law is fair. But it is important to recognize that this is standard and does not violate Mr. Khalil's right to due process.

Also under US Law: one of the conditions of being granted a greencard is that one not be involved in activities that could be argued to be in support of a designated terror organization. Well.

Mahmoud Khalil is an open Hamas supporter and a leader of the Columbia University Apartheid Divestment organization, an explicitly pro Hamas organization that regularly organizes pro Hamas rallies, passes out pro Hamas pamphlets that include inspirational quotes by Hamas terrorists, and organized a "day of mourning" for Yahya Al-Sinwar, the leader of Hamas and the architect of the Oct 7th terror attacks. CUAD has self described it's goal as the "total eradication of Western civilization" through violence. Mr. Khalil has been filmed at multiple of their pro Hamas rallies, which he presumably helped organize as a member, and acted as a negotiator on behalf of CUAD a few days ago (March 6th) during the Columbia student building takeover and bomb threats.

I am not the judge who will be reviewing Mr. Khalil's case. But I find it hard to make an argument that being a leader of an explicitly pro Hamas organization is not supporting terrorism.

Guys, listen. The amount of misinformation I have seen immediately regurgitated about this man, about how his rights have been violated, by fellow Jews, is absurd. Trump is evil. That does not mean we have to make shit up about how an open Hamas supporter is being unfairly attacked. This ENTIRE issue is about whether or not supporting antisemitic terrorism should be considered supporting terrorism. Of course it should be! This is literally just equal application of the law, something we have gotten so used to not happening when it comes to Jews that we are now making up reasons to defend someone who's rights were not violated and openly wants to kill us.

There are so many. SO MANY illegal and unethical arrests and deportations happening every single day. Why on earth is Jumblr deciding to go to bat for this man of all people, and act like THIS CASE, of all cases, is one that needs to be fought against? Why are we acting like this case, of all cases, is some flagrant violation of the law that should be used to highlight how evil Trump is?

I'm sorry but have we lost our minds? Literally nothing about this man's arrest was illegal and his right to due process has not been violated in any way. The ONLY reason this is getting attention is that people believe SO strongly that they should have the right to organize rallies in support of a terrorist organization that's stated goal is to kill the Jews. That's it! That's the only issue. Not even his lawyers are claiming there was some violation of this man's right to due process. This issue is ENTIRELY about whether or not it's "free speech" for someone who agreed not to support terrorism as a condition of being granted a greencard, should have the right to support terrorism specifically if it's terrorism directed at Jews. That's it! That's it. Please. Please PLEASE. Can we focus on the ICE raids happening at the school my roommate works at? Can we stop going along with this violently antisemitic delusion that the legal deportation case against a pro terrorism rally organizer is the ideal case to prove how unfair and illegal these deportations are? What the fuck?

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

Danny Fenton, aka Phantom, has been given a new task!

In short, literally no one in the Ghost Zone/Infinite Realms wants their mostly peaceful afterlife to be rocked by a certain Gotham rogue named Joker. Which, when he dies, is almost sure to happen because of whatever the hell was in that vat he dropped in included ectoplasm. So, yay, he’s also a little ghostly too, meaning he *is* pretty hard to kill. Unfortunately, there’s also a certain vigilante that is quite keen to murder him in recent years.

So now Danny has to keep the mass murderer trauma clown alive for as long as he possibly can while attempting to keep the Joker from. Well. Being the Joker.

Oh, and naturally, Danny got this assignment AFTER Joker got out of Arkham. Again. And entirely blew up the asylum. Time to join the Goonion, he is NOT doing this without getting PAID, thank you.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt in Memes 4

Another prompt, but in memes because trying to gather my thoughts is hard sometimes lol.

[eddiebloombug]

all comic fans know how to do is: develop superiority complexes based on their personal perceptions of a character, eat hot chip, and lie

[jinikaris]

HYUNJIN and FELIX at Incheon airport, January 17th 2025

[plagueislost]

I WOULD LIKE TO HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS ON JASON WING AU THE WAY HIS WINGS CHANGED AND SUCH

do other people who use the lazurus pit experience changes in their wings or was it bc he changed as a person before/after his death

do you think people who go through trauma experience changes in their wings

also what does family preening look like

i am obsessed with the wing au

THANK YOU FOR ASKING I LOVE TALKING ABOUT THIS AU.

i originally got the idea of his wings turning white from that streak in his hair that appeared after the resurrection. i figured hey, if the lazarus waters can do that to someone’s hair, it can probably do that to their wings too, right? it allows for Bruce to not realize Jason is Red Hood for a little bit longer, and it lets you visually separate these two halves of Jason’s life.

I honestly got pretty lucky that pigeons and doves are the same type of bird, and that their symbolic meanings are so contrasting. Jason was a street rat before the resurrection. even after becoming robin, his entire outlook on life was informed by his experience on the streets, and his wings reflected that.

after the resurrection, he becomes in a way haunted by his previous life, and is stuck in a state of grief over what he lost and what he can never again be (robin, bruce wayne’s son, whatever). doves are a symbol of peace, which is a nice contrast to the red hood persona, but they’re also a symbol of grief and mourning (well, technically mourning doves are but shhhhh).

I imagine that since Jason is the first to be revived fully from the dead by the lazarus pits, he is the only one to have experienced significant change in his wings. it’s possible Ra’s might have some white speckling from frequent exposure to the pits, but i honestly haven’t decided yet.

about the trauma causing changes in wings thing, most likely it wouldn’t be anything so drastic like Jason’s change but it can definitely leave lasting effects. i heard somewhere that birds in very stressful situations will over-preen themselves, essentially plucking out perfectly healthy feathers until skin is exposed. This is probably a behavior that would manifest in people in this world too, as a form of self harm. It’d be pretty hard to hide, though, so if someone were trying to keep up appearances they’d likely search for other avenues.

lastly, family preening i’d say is similar to social grooming behaviors in apes or birds. I’m not sure about the social structures behind preening in birds, but i know a lot of species will groom each other in order to bond. We don’t see a lot of social grooming in humans because we’re able to stay rather clean on our own, but i’m sure that would be a different story if we had large appendages in hard to reach places covered in feathers that won’t necessarily fall out on their own when they need to.

social preening would look different on a case-by-case basis, depending on living situations and interpersonal relationships. for example, someone who lives alone would probably invite friends over so they can preen one another in a giant pile on the floor, but a group of people living together wouldn’t need to make an event of it and would just idly groom each other while watching tv or something. people probably sell tools that allow you to get to those hard to reach place on your own if you don’t have anyone to preen you, but they aren’t a huge industry. also, you can go a while without preening before it gets dangerous, but it’s uncomfortable and itchy the whole time. with the Wayne foundation, theres likely preening centers across Gotham where individuals (homeless or otherwise) can get their wings preened if they don’t have anyone to preen them and can’t afford the tools.

Jason is still pretty testy about preening now, but before he reconciled with Bruce, his wings were in a constant state of disrepair. He had the money (from crimelord-ing) to pay for the tools to preen himself, but he wasn’t taking very good care of himself overall during that period, so it took a back seat.

thanks for indulging me with this au you guys have been very kind about it :)

[superbat-lmao]

A Jayroy fic where Jade drops off baby Lian and they just.. retire.

There’s a really difficult conversation they have about dating and raising a kid and vigilante work and they decide screw it. It’s not safe to raise a kid around.

And by retire, I mean they disappear. Go to ground.

(Talia knows what it is to want the best for your child even if they have different opinions on what best is. She gets them off the grid and funded in some sort of suburban hellscape that takes the both of them a while to adjust to. They say they have a deep space mission and just, don’t come back.)

Roy works in a rehab clinic and Jason gets a degree in Literature. He becomes a professor at a small college, taking on graduate students and falling into academia.

They go to therapy, the make friends with other parents, they become normal people. And they have an insane security system for their house, and AI that scrapes cameras of their faces, and a modified basement that Roy compares to the Batcave exactly once that has a gym and space to work on equipment and a method of escape should it be necessary to uproot their lives again.

Because they want to be civilians, but that doesn’t mean that if their past lives come knocking, they’ll be caught unaware and too out of the game to defend themselves. In fact, because they don’t go on patrol, they’re at peak performance at all times and rarely injured more than a sprained wrist or paper cut. Gone are the days of concussions, GSWs, and stab wounds.

The superhero community doesn’t know what to do, what to think. Because all of their resources are expended elsewhere. And because space is a big place, and trying to find two humans in its vastness is an exercise in futility.

So Lian grows up normally. She’s a girl whose parents love her. And her problems are ordinary, like homework and sleepovers and playing soccer.

And when she’s in middle school, the same age as Roy and Jason were when they started superhero training, they tell her about their past lives. About the danger it will bring if they’re found. Because they promised never to lie to her, and to never let her get wrapped up in the vigilante scene.

They’re well adjusted people raising a normal daughter.

And they explain to Lian that they came from very large and complicated families. Families that did dangerous work, work that put anyone who knew about it at risk. And that Lian was a baby, and that all of that risk of their jobs, was not worth her life. That they loved her more than their families, their jobs, their previous lives. But that it meant they could be discovered, and that those old lives would be dragged back up again and she could get hurt.

Lian thinks of it like witness protection.

So Lian memorizes code names and pictures of people that may try and approach her. She learns the differences between friendlies and uglies. Between ex-family, and rogues. And she doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t look into things when her parents ask her not to. Because she trusts them to protect her. She trusts them like a well adjusted young girl who could very well ask her parents for more information, but doesn’t care about the answers because she trusts they’re not important. That it doesn’t change how much they love her or what their lives are.

There are a couple of versions of this:

1. Jason, Roy and Lian live out their lives happily and away from their families. They are never again vigilantes or found out by them.

A) Alfred dies and that is the only thing that almost breaks Jason, that he didn’t get to see the man again before he died.

2. The Bats track them down, ask them what they hell they were thinking, that they thought they were dead. To come home, be part of the family again. They’re told no - and the three of them disappear again to somewhere they’ll never be found.

3. Alfred finds them, says nothing to anyone and once a year, on Lian’s birthday, goes to visit. None of the Bats ever figure it out.

4. Alfred knows where they’re going from the beginning, he keeps them updated on their families and helps hide them from everyone. He never once tells a soul that Jason and Roy are alive. He is allowed to visit Lian sometimes and they are all happier for it.

A) When Alfred gets old enough, he tells Bruce he will be retiring. He asks that he is not followed, that no one from the super hero community is allowed to keep tabs on him. He tells him he’s sorry, but that it has to be this way. Alfred goes and lives the end of his life with Jason, they speak about literature every day, about Alfred’s parents about anything he wants to. Jason buries Alfred in England and Bruce Wayne gets an unmarked alert to its location.

5. The Bats find them, and never approach them. Each Bat basically figures out that Jason is alive, doesn’t say anything to the rest of the family, and keeps tabs on him and Roy. Once they realize that Lian exists, none of them ever breach that level of trust, even as they all grow into old age and move on with their lives.

6. Bruce finds them.

A) He waits for Jason in a cafe, watches him realize who he is and turn to look at the Roy Harper, who nods once and walks away. Jason approaches him and sits down. He asks how he found them. Bruce doesn’t say anything, just looks at his son, alive, seemingly happy. Tells him it was an accident, he had genuinely still thought they were in space, maybe dead, until someone plagiarized Jason’s work, submitted it through a Wayne Enterprises competition of some sort, and it flagged the system. It had been entirely work related, pure coincidence. No capes.

B) And Jason laughs and it’s lighter than Bruce has heard it in years. Jason asks how much Bruce knows about him now, how much intel he gathered before approaching him. Bruce says he knows about their marriage, their daughter, their jobs and habits. Jason nods and he’s smiling. Bruce doesn’t know what to do. He had checked the area, and there were no reports of anything approaching vigilantism, no anonymous casework, no decrease in crime, nothing to suggest the presence of the Red Hood and Arsenal. He hasn’t spoken to Jason outside of business in years, isn’t sure he knows how to anymore. And he looks happy, he’s alive, he’s a civilian.

C) He wants to ask him everything, ask him to come home, wants to know the man his son became. He asks Jason why. Why they disappeared. And Jason is still smiling and it’s honest and Bruce can’t stand to look at him and can’t help it either. So Jason tells him that they will never let their daughter into vigilantism. That they quit, and needed it to be absolute. That he and Roy couldn’t do this halfway, that if they loved their daughter they had to do only what was best for her, and that meant burning their old lives entirely, becoming civilians.

D) Their lives had been too complicated, too many people, too much history. So many ways for things to go badly, to leave Lian without parents or get her killed as leverage against them. And for as much as he and Roy had cared about the people in their lives, couldn’t stop caring about them, they knew that they would just drag Lian into all of the emotional problems that come with being a vigilante. That it wasn’t healthy, for any of them. That trying to do so would kill them. So they disappeared. And Bruce thinks of the pain he and his family had gone through over Jason, wondering how he was doing, if he was dead, hearing nothing and trying not to let it eat at them. But right now, his son is in front of him smiling, something he can’t seem to stop doing. Something Bruce never thought he’d see again.

E) And he has a son in law, a granddaughter. His son has a family, one he built himself. He looks healthy, he’s not closed off, he’s more open than Bruce thinks he’s ever seen him. It’s jarring, like Bruce is wrong footed. He doesn’t know what to say. Wants to tell him about everything that’s happened, to his brothers to their family, to Gotham and old contacts. Wants him back in the loop. Wants to ask about their lives, and college, and his wedding and his daughter. Bruce wants to know all of it. And he wants to know how he did it, how he hid himself so well in plain view.

F) And the detective in him will always prioritize the how over everything else. He wouldn’t be Bruce if he didn’t. So Bruce asks how. And Jason laughs, says he’s not going to tell him.

G) You know I can’t tell you that, old man.

H) He can’t let it go, Bruce can never let anything go, that’s his burden to bear. He tries to push old buttons, doesn’t notice he’s doing it. But Jason won’t stop smiling, won’t switch from civilian to vigilante. There is no trace of anger, of the Red Hood. He doesn’t look surprised and Bruce’s arguments, about flaws in his code, software, he’s just smiling. Won’t rise to the bait. And for once, Bruce has a feeling he’s only felt around Clark. A feeling of being outmatched. Jason knows all of his buttons, isn’t pushing a damn one. Isn’t letting Bruce push his either. It’s not even a stalemate. Bruce has no openings.

I) He starts telling him about his brothers, about missions and life developments. He tries to tell Jason everything. And Jason listens, hears everything he has to say. And Bruce asks him about himself, his life, his husband, his daughter. And he hears about NA and AA meetings, about therapy and raising an infant, and being a professor and his students about their friends and neighbors, about Lian’s friends at school. All of it. Except the how. And at some point, it’s been a couple of hours, but not very long at all, Jason gets a text. He doesn’t look at his phone. And Bruce knows that whatever spell had been cast over the cafe, whatever bubble of another universe he had crossed into, he was about to watch it close. Implode on itself with only him inside. Because Jason was about to leave. All of it, the cafe, the conversation, the smiling and the laughter, it was the one distraction that Bruce was liable to. And Jason has him right where he wanted him. It was something that wouldn’t work twice, and they both knew it.

J) And Jason says, I can’t stop you from telling anyone. I can’t stop any of you from looking for us, but this was the third life of mine that you ended. Of the two of us, I would go to greater lengths to protect my daughter. I am asking you not to make me do something you’ll regret. I am asking you not to look for us, not to tell anyone, not to put it in a report. I did not want to hurt you, any of you. And you have made that unavoidable. I know you, Bruce, and I have spent time healing from everything I’ve been through. I cannot allow you to pull me back into it, to pull the three of us back into your world. I know that this conversation won’t stop you, now that you know. So I’m sorry, I didn’t want to have to say this. I know who you are, who all of you are. It was never a question before, that I would keep your secrets. If you look for us, I will go public. It’s not just your life I’ll be placing at risk, it will be the entire league. I will burn every bridge, every alias. I have redundancies in place, you send a super my way you better be sure to send them all. You better be sure you’ve caught all my backups, all of Roy’s backups, everything. We have avoided you for years without triggering any of your, or the league’s, systems. I can’t predict another accident, but if you know what is best for you and everything you’ve built, you will prevent even that from happening. Do not force my hand.

K) Bruce stands, trying to memorize his son’s face. And then Jason is gone. Disappearing down a street and out of sight. And Roy is waiting for him, their house had been cleared of all traces, Talia has new lives set up for them and Lian is asleep in the backseat.

L) Their lives are busy for the next few weeks, traveling and covering their tracks and looking for new methods of being traced. And they change their names, change their lives, are prepared for the upheaval of being new people again. This time, it sticks. They watch Lian graduate school, college, get married, have children of her own. And the media is inescapable - they learn very little about their old families lives, but not nothing. There are funerals and weddings and probably so much more in private, things they will never know, never be part of again. And then they’re just old and together. Their grandkids visit, Lian visits, life is good and long and they are happy.

• Or, it sticks until one day, a spell is cast in Gotham and he’s standing on a rooftop, no mask, identity on full display, surrounded by other vigilantes in mixed states of gear and civilian status. Some being or other from another universe required all hands on deck in this universe and had used a spell to summon them all here.

• Jason spotted Roy appearing near him on the rooftop, both of them stunned. No one had noticed them yet, but their moment of indecisiveness and a moment of pure awareness on the Batfam’s part, meant there would be an inescapable confrontation. Batman seemed to notice them first and looked to Jason, who shook his head. It appeared Batman was trying to talk to the person who had summoned them all here, to argue they should be sent back or ask if it was possible.

• Jason moved himself and Roy towards Batman, doing their best to avoid looking at any of the other vigilantes at all, including but especially family. They walked into a tense conversation.

• You must send them back, they are civilians.

• Batman, you of all people understand the threat we are up against, if the spell believes they are necessary to combat X then they were brought here.

• I understand perfectly well, I am telling you to send them back. Having them here is a security risk, not during the fight, but after. This is not your universe, things are different in ways you can’t know of, this is one of those circumstances.

• Jason and Roy approach, Roy tapping his shoulder in a way that means he’ll follow his lead.

• He announces, You are in violation of the Hempstead agreement. You have one hour to return us to our previous location before we are a security risk.

• They can hear intakes of breath around them, some of the arrow clan and bat clan have approached, uncertain of what exactly is happening, but not comforted by the fact that Batman seems to understand the situation without telling any of them. The argument continues, Jason standing just behind Roy, separating him from the group slowly forming around them, people pushing their way to the center to see their son or brother again. Their friends.

• A decision is reached, It will take me 10 minutes to establish a connection strong enough to send them both through. Do not interrupt me while I prepare, follow me.

• And Jason and Roy are walking away, backs turned to their families. To their friends. There are shouts behind them, their names, other things they choose not to hear. It is all held at bay by Batman.

• They are speaking with the universe hopper, giving him a location to send them while clearly stating that he is not to give out that location to any of the vigilantes here, that violation of these terms will risk the hero community at large. The closer it gets to the ten minute mark, the more the riot behind them frays between silent understanding and desperation. Neither of them turns around, they can’t allow themselves to look. It is excruciating.

• Roy looks Jason in the eye and neither of them are fully able to stand it, but the fact that they’re not alone has to be enough. Jason can see the itch start, the overwhelming feeling that can’t be tolerated, the one that motivates people to seek out something that will just stop. He reaches out his hand, taps it against Roy’s and is met with one of the worst smiles he’s ever seen. It threatens to bring Jason to his knees, but Roy threads their hands together. The portal opens before them and without turning around, they step through.

• There is a shared panic attack, a moment of grief and regret where both of them realize just how greatly they hurt all of the people they used to care about. They break apart together and rebuild each other enough to pick up Lian from school and begin the process of torching their home. Whatever fight they had been summoned for had not happened yet, so they had a larger lead time than they had when Bruce had stumbled across them. But now, the entire hero community, many more points of being able to be convinced, was now aware they were both alive and on Earth.

[stars-n-kites]

really an inexplicable train of thought but i feel like taako is the kind of person who in a modren era au would just decide to go to a shooting range and learn how to shoot a pistol for funsies, but would consider learning to spin the pistol all cool like they do in cowboy movies to be his first and foremost priority. like hes already bought a holster and the moment he is given a gun he immediately starts trying to twirl it. the instructor has to tell him to stop or theyll take the gun away from him. he keeps trying to lead the conversation back to it anyway because he really feels like theyre putting the cart before the horse here if hes learning how to shoot the gun before even knowing how to dramatically reholster it if he were to get in some sort of cowboy duel. hes actually really good at the shooting part but he gets kicked out of the class after his eighth guntwirling attempt in which he accidentally flicks the safety off mid twirl and shoots one of their light fixtures

[veinsfullofstars]

"Still trying to intimidate me? Cute."

(ID: Kirby series fanart of Meta Knight and Galacta Knight based off of a couple dynamics template by @/ReddsMess on Twitter. Original template and source below the cut, as well as a HAL language variant. Top-left panel - high-angle shot of MK lit from above, standing firm and glaring up through his mask, his wings curled out and breaching the panel in places, subtitled "Well well..." Top-right panel - low-angle shot of GK lit from below, looming in the air and leering down through his mask, his wings curled out and his hands spread wide in challenge, both of which breach the panel in places, subtitled "Look who came to see me..." Bottom panel - MK & GK stand next to each other, the latter leaning towards the former and gently caressing the side of his mask with the back of one hand, grinning smugly and wrapping a wing around the knight, subtitled "My Knightmare." MK stands stiffly with his fists clenched at his sides, blushing vividly and glaring away from the warrior. A little flurry of white hearts emanate from GK, while one small one hovers above MK. END ID.)

Started 03/30/24, finished 04/02/24, updated for color correction 11/02/24.

---

HAL language variant:

Original by ReddsMess (template link) NOTE: The artist has marked 16-18+ in their bio, so browse at your own risk!

[sofieartz]

[ AFK Journey ]

Have you guys played the new story yet?

The one in the commoners district.

Hehehehehe... Definitely no connection with me posting this, just an angry Merlin ready to fight an unjust system, and win!

Anyway this is the last part of this series, Merlin's character progression is now over! (For now :9) I already have some ideas for the future of post-immortal war Merlin ^^

[nelkcats]

Vengeful Knight

When Danny moved to Gotham he didn't think that would be a problem, his rogues agreed to let him go (or at least, most of them) and it was a good opportunity to get his college degree.

Of course, you can't spend your whole life with ghosts without getting attached to them or having them getting attached to you. Although most of them had promised, Danny was well aware that not all of them were going to keep that promise.

A good example was Fright Knight, who instead of staying in the Realms decided to move in with him and provide additional "protection"; the halfa figured it made sense, since he was now "heir" or whatever, he was just setting him back a few years.

Fright Knight took his job very seriously, mostly hiding in Danny's shadow and keeping watch. That was fine until the halfa got caught in a rogue attack in Gotham and inevitably, Frighty decided to do his job and press a sword down their throats.

Danny escaped from there soon after, but this trend continued to happen (rogues, muggers, even cops, anything "dangerous" ended up with a sword around his neck).

When he read in the Gotham newspaper about the "spirit of a knight" and "Gotham's recent problem with nightmares" he knew he had to do something about it. He was almost certain that people were going to consider him a vigilante or worse, a bat.

Besides, the nightmare dimension was getting pretty crowded and Danny didn't want to be part of the trauma of half the population in Gotham.

[hitlikehammers]

PART 2/2: in which lock-picking⛓️‍💥 is 100% a valid love language, and waking up with ✨Steve Harrington✨ was NOT the future (exactly. maybe. ish.)

...but waking up in a hospital bed just might be ♥️

<<< last time: And Eddie thinks that’s highly fucking debatable—he’s not sure where it comes from, because it’s a little out of place, Eddie didn’t say anything but maybe he’s just that transparent, the heart of him so quickly, so completely, and if that’s the case then it’s entirely fucking debatable because Eddie thinks he’s going to burst, splinter like a starburst, glorious in the unmaking for how big this thing that’s building in him feels, how certain he is that it’s about to break his ribs and he fucking looks forward to it, so no: Steve doesn’t love most because he can’t, because Eddie is overcome with this feeling and he, he— He’s drifting, because Steve’s heat is a heady fucking drug, and his heartbeat’s a metronome, a lullaby against Eddie���s back and it’s instinct, it’s unquestionable when he shimmies tighter into Steve’s hold and sighs the weight of the world out between his lips because… Because goddamnit, this feels right.

OR: y'know. Eddie thought he was dying in the Upside Down but then he's waking up in the future, in bed with Steve Harrington like what the fuck

Eddie comes to—again: un-fucking-expected—with the same sensation of his ribs snapping, the pain of it a dull thing he thinks he can just float through because his heart’s so gone on the impossible possibility of some future imaginary day where he, where Steve, where they—

“Eddie?”

Wait.

Wait, that’s…okay.

Back up.

He tries to take in what his senses are willing to offer him: something starchy, itchy against his skin, both sides—definitely not the sheets from the bed he’d just felt visceral underneath him. Pressure and aching at his chest: but less sweet the longer he focuses on it. Stinging and the pull of maybe-bandages, maybe-sutures, maybe both and something deeper, like…oh, wow, fuck, it’s entirely possible his ribs are already broken. His heart still feels full, but also scared, unsure, wrong-footed as more and more little clues seep into his consciousness, before maybe the clearest of them all: a shrill little beep that’s fast, like embarrassingly fast—

A monitor.

He draws a shaky breath—iodine, like, burning levels as he inhales and holy fucking shit, he’s in a goddamn hospital.

He’s, did he…

Is this what Steve meant, when he said ‘wake up’? Did Eddie…

Did Eddie fucking survive?

It’s in the spiral of that thought that Eddie clocks the same voice that jarred him out of his own head…in his own head, before. With the fancy sheets and the warmth and the home and—

What…what if it wasn’t in his head at all—

But his body, his pulse recognizes that voice as safety. As…rightness incarnate.

“Oh fuck,” and that’s the Steve Eddie knows best, right there, a little breathy and a little pitchy for frayed nerves and constant worry and the weight of the fucking world to make sure everyone—everyone else—makes it out as okay as possible.

And it’s in thinking that, that Eddie recognizes what Steve-in-his-headin-the-future-in-his-dream-in-his-maybe-not-quite-death-hallucination meant, when he’d said Eddie’s eyes softened. Because Steve’s heart on his sleeve, in his eyes, had looked peaceful, then. Content, even.

Not so frantic. Not so…scrambling.

Still just as blinding, though.

“Thank fuck, you’re awake,” Steve half gasps, a tiny clattering against the tile floor vying to draw Eddie’s gaze away but there was genuinely nothing in the whole goddamn universe that could take Eddie’s eyes off of Steve just now, those lips parted ever so slightly, cheeks that tiny bit rosy, pulse maybe-maybe-not visible just below the bandages on his neck.

He’s beautiful.

“What do you need?” Steve’s leaning closer, hands reaching but then kinda fluttering, kinda hovering, not sure where to touch and even if they knew the answer, kinda like they’re not sure if they can touch in the first place, yet all Eddie can do when he sees them, when he feels the shift in the air for how close they are; all Eddie can do is remember what it’s like to be pressed close to Steve’s body, to feel Steve’s arms around his chest, like they’re keeping him.

“What can I do,” Steve asks, so earnest and Eddie’s pulse does a little skip for it, how good it feels; “I—”

And Steve’s eyes are already big, just short of pleading, darting to the corners of the room maybe for water, maybe for a button to call someone to help more than he can—as if anyone can help more than Steve can, just now, because Eddie’s waking up from what it feels like to have Steve, and the most pressing possible thing in the world just now is SteveSteveSteve, near enough to feel, to breathe in—

Steve’s eyes are already big, though, is the thing, even before the full-on fucking crash of something to the floor makes him freeze. Eddie tries to peer down, winces as it pulls to much at…everything, kind of, Jesus H., but he hurts everywhere, and…

“The hell were you doing?” he asks in the absence of being able to see because…metal. Metal had hit the floor, from the height of probably-the-bed, after Steve had pressed into the mattress, shifted the weight, and then he’d blinked all owlish and adorable: culpability for whatever he’d been up to written all over his gorgeous fucking face.

“Umm,” Steve chews at his lip a little, eyes peeking up through his lashes, that look that makes Eddie weak and wobbly at basically every juncture it’s possible to tremble at like that, but he doesn’t duck away; he doesn’t even blush. He’s not…whatever he was doing—and Eddie’s range of motion is fucked, he’s already super well aware of that shit when he even tries to move to see the floor, to follow the sound—but whatever Steve was doing, he’s unrepentant. But in a way where he maybe recognizes that other people would have been less brazen.

Eddie’s wrist tingles out of nowhere—weird, when all of him is already kinda in a sort of dull, narcotic-shrouded pain—and he frowns, glances down at least that far and notices the slightest ring of red that’s less angry, not attached to bite marks and broken skin, and he has the wildest thought cross his mind just then, and he steels himself to crane his neck as far as he can, to limit the strain he’ll put on his middle because now he needs to see, because he kinda knew before he cut the sheets and ran into the fray that coming out on the other side meant life behind bars if there was any life at all, yet here he is, increasingly seeming like this is real, and this is his ‘other side’, and…

He’s just in a fucking hospital. He’s…he’s here, and he’s, he’s not…he’s not in fucking chains.

And it stings like a bitch, and Steve’s a second away from stopping him, reaching for him and pressing him safely back onto the the bed, but Eddie gets the glimpse he needs. Recognizes the shape on the floor, shiny steel against the scratched-up linoleum.

“Were you,” Eddie traces the ridges of his teeth with his tongue, because there are layers to what he’s about to ask; “were, umm, were you picking the,” and the first little clatter from before makes more sense if he’s right, and if he’s right, well, fuck.

It’ll be hot as hell, if he’s right.

“That?” Eddie tilts his head toward the floor because: cuffs. What he’d seen, what had fallen: handcuffs. On the floor. And they’d have had to have been not on the floor, and probably on him before, and so, he—

“Possibly,” Steve answers with a straight face, as unapologetic as ever, maybe more; maybe even defiant, and oh, wow. Steve Harrington picking his fucking handcuffs, setting his stupidly-quickly-lovesick ass free.

Hot as fuck; seriously.

“How positively criminal of you, Harrington,” Eddie grins half-maniacal, feels the stretch of it burn against a cut that’s gotta run half the span of his cheek but fuck it, the warmth flooding him is undeniable, is incredible—he’s giddy all of a sudden, straight to his bones.

“S’nothing on hot-wiring,” Steve shrugs, like it’s not fucking everything; “but I wasn’t,” and Steve takes a deep breath before he squares his shoulders, looks at Eddie straight-on and shit, if he thought the warmth in him up to now was something?

It’s kinda got nothing on what consumes him under those eyes.

“I wasn’t going to let you wake up fucking…shackled.”

And goddamn if the fire in that voice, those words, doesn’t light Eddie up like burning, doesn’t shake him to the core and then blanket him in sureness and the kind of protection he didn’t think really existed.

Save that he does kinda think it’s exactly what this man’s made of; made for.

And Eddie can’t escape the certainty rising in his veins and pumping, fierce and unshakable, that he wants—more than maybe anything—to be the one to give that same safety, that same promise of something unwavering and permanent and beyond question, right back to Steve.

“You’re an innocent man,” Steve leans in then, emphatic with it; “you’re a goddamn hero,” and he means it, holy shit, he believes that:

“Like hell I was just gonna,” and he shakes his head, like the idea is just that preposterous; like he cannot even consider anything but Eddie being free, and okay, and here, and…

Eddie’s struck with the sudden slap of realization across the fucking face that he couldn’t have gotten topside by himself. That someone had to get him from the hellscape to here. And of the able bodies in the Upside Down, no matter how strong the girls were, only one could have wrestled him through that gate. Only one could have…whatever he maybe needed, between this bed and that bat-strewn ground, it was, Steve would have been, he’d have—

The force his heart trips, then leaps with, is fucking cataclysmic. Eddie’s honestly surprised it doesn’t just tear out from his throat then and there.

“Plus they’re in the process of finishing the paperwork to make it all official, dropping the charges and all that, clearing your name,” Steve gestures vaguely in the air, like it’s all routine, the feds and the cops sweeping shit under the rug but then he remembers all the side comments he’d collected in the back of his mind these last few days about the ‘last time’ and then ‘the time before that’ and fuck all also the first time—

Maybe it is, just…sick and twisted and harrowing and heartbreaking routine.

“They’re just really fucking slow,” Steve smiles at him, all small and devastating and…

And okay, so that overwhelming urge to be a constant in Steve Harrington’s life, safe next to his heart kinda for always, zero to forever in half-a-blink?

Eddie knew he wanted, when he threw his vest at Steve’s bare chest more for Eddie’s own fucking sanity than anyone’s modesty, but it was all washed in the hopeless-helpless colors of desperation, of why not when I won’t see tomorrow; and now.

Now, all Eddie wants is tomorrow. Every tomorrow. No tomorrows without this man. Without what he saw, how it felt: what he knows in his marrow loving him would be.

It’s probably that conviction etching into his cells that makes makes him softer, a little weepy around the edges; drives him to need through the next words that escape:

“Steve,” Eddie breathes, wishes Steve were just that little bit closer so that the distance he can reach could reach him:

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” Steve waves him off almost, like he doesn’t think everything he is, everything he’s done is monumental. Not just the cuffs but with the cuffs like the cherry on top of how Eddie would—will, if he’s given the chance—devote all that he has and all that he is to making Steve happy. To making him as calm and warm and loved as Eddie could feel in that bedroom, in his head or in the future or on death’s fucking door.

“I mean,” Steve starts, and Eddie can already feel how he’s angling to downplay the thing that’s only swelling, building, growing under Eddie’s own ribs and, well: no.

No, Eddie won’t be standing for that.

“Stevie,” and Steve’s gravitated wordless just close enough for Eddie to be able to brush his fingertips against Steve’s wrist, to curl and pull his hand into Eddie’s grasp, palm splayed above Steve’s knuckles, holding. Keeping.

“Thank you.”

And Steve stills a little, stares at him like he can see what’s tucked up tight and dear in Eddie’s chest and maybe he can, because his voice is feather-light and a little bowled-over. A little…a little awed.

“You’re welcome.”

So yeah, maybe he can see what’s in Eddie’s chest, less tucked in this moment now than fucking, like…

Blooming.

“Do you believe there’s anything waiting when we die?”

Eddie’s gonna blame the frantic blossoming warmth coursing through him for the way he blurts that shit out with no preamble, like maybe the flowering wonder of it all pushes it out without permission, sweet on the back of his tongue but heavy because it matters so much; because it’s all just nostalgia.

For now.

“What?” Steve gapes a little, sounds dumbfounded; maybe a little wary. Fearful.

His hand’s still held under Eddie’s, though, so it’s only natural the way Eddie lifts his fingers and presses them palm-to-palm like it means something.

“Do you?”

“I…don’t know,” Steve swallows hard enough the follow down the taut line of his throat, fucking mesmerizing.

So maybe the way Eddie licks his lips before he says anything more isn’t…isn’t just for the sake of the topic and its weight, is all he’s saying.

“I,” and Eddie doesn’t really know where he’s going, here, or else: he knows exactly where he’s going.

He’s just not totally sure the path he’s planning to chart along the way for getting there.

“When we were down there, and I was telling you to go after Wheeler,” which yeah, okay, surprise direction there, weird little detour, but…it doesn’t feel wrong.

Which means, if it’s right instead: then that’s everything that is Steve in Eddie’s lungs for breathing, in the chambers of his heart. So he leans into it.

Squeezes Steve’s fingers laced together with his.

“Eddie,” Steve starts, sounds tired, spent, and Eddie was never going to let that happen; no matter where he’s going, or leading them down the path of his revelations, the truth etched new but also deep in his bones like it was only waiting to be found and known.

“It was because that’s what I wanted. For me. I wanted to,” and his breath catches on a little chuckle, so light and choked and a little hysterical as he adds, giddy and a little bashful all together at once:

“Unambiguously, umm,” and he trails a little, wants to hide behind his hair just a touch but to do that would require a broader capacity to move in the first place and more, so much more: it would mean letting go of Steve’s hand.

So: absolutely not.

Especially not when Steve’s gone full dropped-jaw gaping at him, his fingers in Eddie’s grasp twitching like he’s confused, like maybe there’s part of him short-circuiting, and Eddie feels his exhales tremble when he finally blinks, finally tilts his head and takes Eddie in at a new angle before he asks, genuine and not just a little lost:

“Seriously?”

And Eddie…Eddie’s actually never been more serious in his life, so.

“Like,” and he circles Steve’s knuckles delicate-like with his thumb: “I wanted the chance, to try, I guess, yeah.”

And he doesn’t know if he’s risking everything to own it, even if he’s owning just a sliver of the breadth and depth that he feels, but he does know unequivocally that he wouldn’t hold it back if given the choice, the opportunity to do it over and not show his bloody-beating heart on display.

A bloody-beating heart that’s moving quicker, slamming harder against his chest but…that actually feels like the only correct thing it could do. Because this merits it.

This kinda is his whole fucking heart.

“Do you still?”

It takes Eddie a longer string of seconds than he’d prefer to own to, to process the words as having meaning, no matter that he doesn’t fucking understand what they’re aiming at.

“What?”

“Want,” and Steve’s the one squeezing Eddie’s hand now, turning a little to graze at the line of his veins at the wrist; “the chance.”

And he says it deceptively casual, despite how he’s staring at their hands, determinedly not meeting Eddie gaze as Eddie gets his chance at the gaping.

“Fuck yes,” Eddie finally huffs on something not unlike unabashed fucking joy, save that this thing he’s feeling is so much bigger, and when Steve looks up, meets his eyes and his own glimmer, shine so bright and brim with such disbelief, but so much stronger and with such hope, Jesus.

Eddie can’t help the giggle that bubbles out of him. Like his whole fucking soul gets shaped into a single breath of exultant delight.

And they both hold to one another, trace across skin and map the lines and dots and scars, and Eddie’s not stupid, he knows this isn’t how it works but…

But he’d still bet money on the fact that the way he’s touching Steve, so innocent and so quietly intimate, is healing his wounds, shoring up his weaknesses and stitching him up fuller, better, breath by shared-sacred breath.

It’s heady as fuck. It’s exquisite.

“Why’d you ask me about when we die?”

Steve’s the one to break the still, and even that’s not breaking anything, really; he speaks so soft. He’s stroking down from Eddie’s thumb back and forth.

It’s not breaking anything.

“I saw something,” Eddie whispers, not sure what reaction that’ll get, and Steve’s staring at their hands again, marveling really, so Eddie can’t read any hint save for the crinkled furrow in his brow.

“But you didn’t die.”

Which isn’t the reaction he thinks he expected, even if Eddie couldn’t name what he did expect. And it’s also not a revelation he thought he’d receive.

“Not at all?”

Because he’s genuinely surprised. He at least figured he’d flatlined like…long enough to have visions of absolute and total domestic bliss and shit.

But Steve’s shaking his head decisively, holding on to Eddie just a little bit tighter.

“You had a pulse, whole way to he hospital,” he tells Eddie, voice gone a little hoarse; “it wasn’t strong but,” and Steve looks up at him, and fuck, those eyes are too shiny now and Eddie doesn’t want that, he doesn’t want his Steve to hurt, he—

“I fucking held you,” Steve croaks and oh, oh he’s shaking, Jesus—

“I kinda,” and he swallows with a click Eddie can hear, around a throbbing pulse Eddie can see, wants nothing more than to soothe with his lips against that tender skin; “I kinda had to make sure, so,” and the hand that’s not holding Eddie’s comes up, trembling as he reaches toward Eddie’s chest:

“Kept my hand pressed, just,” and his voice gives, and he looks up at Eddie with something like devastation, begging something like permission because he doesn’t know that everything that Eddie is, is his.

But he will.

He will know.

“Yeah?” Eddie breathes out, holds Steve gaze as he nods, as he tries to make it clear that anything Steve needs is his, and then some.

It takes a second, but the shine in those eyes finally shifts, finally brightens and then Steve’s breathing’s made of tremors, but his hand finds Eddie’s chest and sends something sparking like lighting through him just as the whole of Eddie feels immediately like he’s home.

And Steve’s hand on his chest feels exactly like it did in their future bed, in their future room, in their future life.

Their always love.

“Yeah,” Steve whispers, then takes a moment, palm splayed wide just above Eddie’s bandages, before he’s gripping Eddie’s wrist with the other hand a little harder:

“It’s so fast,” he exhales like it holds the whole world and then some; he wonders at just Eddie’s heartbeat under his touch and god.

God, but Eddie…Eddie couldn’t have imagined he’d ever feel like this. Let alone feel like maybe it’s mutual, maybe it’s real, maybe he can keep it and stay in this feeling for forever.

“Fuck yeah it is,” Eddie murmurs, then he chuckles, inhales deep maybe just to better feel the weight of Steve’s hand; “making up for the lost opportunity, y’know,” and fuck, all he wants is to be able to lean, to kiss the pout of those lips, to taste what it means to love somebody like he’s never done before.

“Making up for what it missed the last time your hand was there to feel it.”

And Steve’s hand above his thrumming heart twitches just a little, but never flags or makes to move, to leave, and Eddie thinks that he’d be fine if he lived the rest on his days with Steve like that, near enough that he could press a hand to Eddie’s heart at all times and just…just know that it’s his.

Because maybe it’s sudden—it’s definitely quick—but Eddie’s never known anything like he knows this.

“Eddie,” Steve finally whispers, a question and a claim and a means of cradling Eddie to his heart, somehow, for how swathed in light and affection Eddie feels in that moment, in just the shape of his name like it’s never been spoken before.

“I saw the future,” Eddie blurts out in a rush, breath coming a little quicker and heart-under-Steve’s-hand pounding harder. “Maybe. I don’t know, I mean, it sounds so stupid when I say it out loud but it felt so,” but then he looks into Steve’s eyes again and Steve is listening, Steve’s maybe doesn’t think he’s crazy, so he feels safe enough to say with his whole fucking chest:

“It felt real, Stevie.”

“What was it?” Steve asks, so quiet, so gentle like he doesn’t want to disturb this thing either, like he doesn’t need to hear it spelled out yet to know it’s delicate, the most important thing in the world, which fuck yeah it is, even as it cracks and chokes for the flood of feeling around it when it presses up from Eddie’s chest:

“Us,” Eddie breathes it out like the precious truth it genuinely fucking is:

“It was us.”

And Steve doesn’t say anything, but his eyes glimmer all the more, swimming with a riot of emotion to a degree than Eddie feels drowned in awe just to see it, and his hands on Eddie hold tighter, more fervent, devoted like a pledge for the way it runs through Eddie’s blood and sings in his veins:

“Even if it wasn’t real,” but Eddie’s doesn’t believe that, not really, not in his heart of hearts where it all pounds into the crevices that map Steve’s touch; “even if I wasn’t seeing the actual future,” and maybe he wasn’t, maybe that wasn’t their future, and maybe he’ll never know, but what he does know, is—

“It felt right, Steve.”

He knows that clearer than he knows the sky is blue.

“It was just a few minutes,” Eddie flounders a little, mostly because he remembers how good it was, written indelible into how much he wants, here and now:

“But I have never felt anything so right.”

He breathes, shaky and shallow and too fucking fast, but then Steve starts stroking his palm along the unmarked spaces of his chest, back and forth over the gallop of his heart like he means to stay there. Like he could ever want to keep.

“Well,” Steve whispers, his eyes on the path of his hand to make sure he doesn’t draw any pain—as if he ever could—until he knows the safe route over and back, again and again, and then he looks up, catches Eddie’s eyes and locks there, doesn’t pin so much as holds, holds, holds.

And good fucking god, Eddie feels it glisten through him like starlight; Eddie feels remade before Steve’s leaning in, lower than to meet Eddie’s mouth but then he’s pressing his lips to the dip between Eddie’s collarbones, holding there, breathing like he means to savor, like he means to cherish, like he means to, to…

To stay.

And Eddie’s heart’s under that hand and those lips all at once, wholly Steve’s while it quivers like a riot, while it leaps as Steve changes the world, writes their fucking future where his mouth drags wet and warm and ardent and there’s nothing in it at all that can be anything other than at least on the way to love as he breathes, fucking vows:

“We gotta try, then, don’t we?”

♥️

>>>also on ao3✨

for @penny00dreadful 🖤 still very fucking sorry it's this late

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @estrellami-1 @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @live-laugh-love-dietrich @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here @pukner @ravenfrog @sadisticaltarts @samsoble @sanctumdemunson @shrimply-a-menace @slashify @stealthysteveharrington @swimmingbirdrunningrock @theheadlessphilosopher @theintrovertedintrovert @themoonagainstmers @theohohmoment @tillystealeaves @tinyloonyteacups @tinyplanet95 @warlordess @wheneverfeasible @wordynerdygurl @wxrmland @yourmom-isgay @1-tehe-1

divider credit here and here

[hasarjunadoneanythingwrong]

Nasu really seems to think that melanin is like, a personal choice and something you can catch as opposed to genetics that the majority of the world has