#fuck it i decided to post this anyway

[lucawrites11]

Ireland v England: my optimal lioness line-up

subs: Williamson> Carter< ('60), Clinton> Park< ('70), Hemp> Mead< ('70), Russo> Kirby< (ONLY if a number nine substitution is needed)

the explanation and the game plan below...

Hampton in goal. England had an issue getting balls through the midfield due to the tactics of marking out Walsh. Between Williamson at CB and Hampton in goal, progressive passes that they can both make can bypass any midfield blockade and help to create chances especially with the speed of Clinton, Hemp and James up front and Russo's hold-up play. This forward line-up works best with quick chances.

Williamson + Wubben-Moy is the CB duo that everyone needs, they already have great communication. Williamson shouldn't play a full '90 and Carter should replace her coming on as a CB or LB that would push Greenwood into a CB role. This would be best as Carter is better at LB and Greenwood at CB.

Bronze has been out of form and Charles can play RB, we know that Greenwood is an amazing LB, she did it at the Euros and World Cup. The defense will have to be very disciplined to ensure Katie McCabe is not given time on the ball likely on the right wing and that hasn't been a role that Bronze has shown herself as capable to play. I think Charles would be better at this role.

Walsh and Stanway are the midfield staples and obvious choices for England. The midfield doesn't function without them. The 10 position is the midfield position that's heavily contested between Toone, Clinton, Kirby and Park. I think Clinton is best. On Friday, she was one of the best players on the pitch and the whole game changed when she came off. Taking her off was a mistake, her speed is needed. Which is why if she comes off the only player that should replace her is Jess Park, they have a very similar game and speed.

Russo is the only vaguely in form number nine on this team and the bar is in hell for that but still she's good. Daly is not as good lately and, imo, Aggie Beever-Jones should've been called up over her and if she was on the bench, I would be suggesting that substitution with her replacing Russo in the nine but that's not a sub I trust to make with Daly at the moment. The only player, I can consider replacing Russo in the nine right now is Kirby, she is a very diverse forward player and create chances and get in the box.

James should've NEVER have come off on Friday. She's one of the best players in England now. I don't give a fuck where she plays but she needs to play the full 90 and, in this set-up, she slots in best on one of the wings.

Hemp should play the other wing, she's fast and she's good but she wasn't amazing on friday and that's why Mead should replace her and not James. She should never be made to play the nine by Sarina again. It's a terrible decision and she is NOT good enough at that position. KEEP JAMES ON THE PITCH. TAKE HEMP OFF.

[bare1ythere]

You know a character has really hit their gender out of the park when they're popularly hced as transmasc AND transfemme

[sketchy-tour]

Thank you, Remderem!

[hiimbloblos]

Everything that promotes LGBT will now be banned: a rainbow without a light blue stripe, all kinds of themed patches, badges on clothes, as well as parades, processions, rallies and themed parties.

For that - up to 12 years in prison.

Hi! What! Literal murder can get you 2 to 8 years in prison. Killing a man gives you less years! Hello! Can anybody fucking hear me!

Updating this post because. WELL. If anyone, ANYONE supports LGBTQIA in here. Even if they're the straightest people ever. THEY FALL UNDER THE SAME CATEGORY. LGBTQIA ALLIES ARE CONSIDERED EXTREMISTS TOO.

Moreover, everyone could get in trouble - even if the person isn't an activist or part of LGBTQ, but speaks out that LGBTQ people must have equal rights with everyone else.

You can get in trouble for a LGBTQ-symbolic repost from 10 years ago - if the policemen can capture it after Supreme Court's decision will take effect.

And another update: this "law" will only be valid after January 10, 2024

The court decision will come into force on January 10 of the following year - unless an appeal is filed.

[coreytaylr]

100% legit totally real facts about the historical stede bonnet

no the title is not a lie these are really REAL bc believe it or not, somehow the show made our stede MORE competent than the real one

sources: Real Pirates podcast (ep1, ep2, ep3, ep4, ep5), Dirty Sexy History podcast (with jeremy moss, bonnet's biographer, who LOVES the show, and said it changed his perspective on bonnet's and blackbeard's relationship PLUS he has the stedesrevenge handle on twt)

the library on the revenge was a real thing. the man really did that.

running away from his family to be a pirate

paying a salary to his crew

SHOWING UP IN NASSAU IN FRILLY GENTLEMANLY CLOTHES AND A POWDERED WIG

before bonnet's capture, he ran his ship aground and that's how the english caught up with him BUT the two english ships also ran aground (😭), so they fought each other with their flintlock pistols from behind their ships (until the tides turned and dislodged the english ships first. rip)

adopted an alias when he started pirating so people wouldn't know it was him but he raided ships near Barbados (where he's from), so that didnt turn out well. his solution? burning every ship from Barbados

he only succeeded in his early days bc merchant ships knew they would get off easier if they surrendered

ATTACKED A WARSHIP that whooped his ass so bad he almost died. the remaining crew steered the ship to Nassau where he met blackbeard

blackbeard stole the revenge from him but "allowed" him to stay on BB's ship (either as a guest or as a prisoner, it's not clear, but he def wasn't a crew member bc he didn't have any chores)

he was seen on deck running around in his gowns 😭😭

BB eventually reinstated him as the captain of the revenge and they sailed together for a while

"there is a 4 month period where stede and blackbeard kind of disappeared and no one really knows what they were doing" 👀

BB allowed bonnet to raid on his own which lead to him getting his ass beat by the Protestant Caesar. BB then proceeded to HUNT DOWN THE PROTESTANT CAESAR while flying the RED FLAG (which meant no mercy to anyone on board)

bonnet would raid ships and take what provisions he needed and give the other ship what he didn't need (essentially the library raiding scene lmaoo)

BB betrayed bonnet by raiding his ship and marooning his crew while bonnet was off getting a pardon

SO BONNET SWORE REVENGE AGAINST BB who was at the time, the most feared pirate

this led to him adopting another alias - "he also changes his name, at the time he goes by captain edward's. which is really interesting, I don't know if that's an homage to, you know, edward teach, but.. captain edward's with an "s", that's as if he's.. a possession of captain edward" ONCE AGAIN 👀👀👀👀

HE ESCAPED PRISON BY DRESSING AS A WOMAN

after escaping, he was promised a sloop by some rando. when the rando didnt deliver, bonnet "WROTE HIM A STRONGLY WORDED LETTER REPRIMANDING THE MAN"

that letter led to him being recaptured 😭😭

he was hanged while holding a bouquet of wilted flowers

[castielsprostate]

day 200 of asking misha to put his hands around my neck and choke me lightly

[clowningaroundmars]

my personal atsv hobie brown hc is that this boy can build a watch that enables the wearer to travel to any dimension they want to, made entirely out of cobbled up parts he "finds"

but anytime anyone brings up AI or algorithms or social media he pretends to be 100 years old

hobie: what's a bloody "snapchat"? fuckin 'ell those effects are nightmarish, mate

miles, exasperated: hobie, you BUILD TECH that astrophysicists in my dimension can't even replicate. how are filters on a phone trippin you up?

hobie: dunno, everyone's got their strengths n weaknesses, i 'spose... 🙄😒

[its-your-mind]

*deep breath in*

the fears 👏 have always 👏 been (in one way or another) 👏 parallel 👏 to 👏 desire 👏

let me explain.

so many of the statements given by actual avatars center around some sort of need that was met by their entity. Lots of them even had a positive relationship with the fear that drove them.

Jane Prentiss is an excellent example - the Corruption has always been about a form of toxic and possessive love, but she personally has a deep desire to be “fully consumed by what loves her,” and finds a perverse joy and relief at allowing herself to be a home

Jude Perry is another - she fucking loved watching people’s lives be utterly destroyed. The Desolation only offered her a power of destruction on a grander scale, and then gave her a more intense rush of joy as she did its work. When she tells Jon that he needs to feed the Eye before it feeds on him, it’s almost as an afterthought; she was happily feeding the Desolation long before it burned her into a new existence.

Simon Fairchild. Every time that old loose bag of bones wanders into the picture, he is having a fucking EXCELLENT time playing with the Vast. He loves showing people their own insignificance, and he loves luring them into situations where he can throw them into the void as he smiles and waves.

Peter Lukas (hell, the whole Lukas family (except Evan. RIP Evan.)) hated. people. all he wanted was for them all to go away, to leave him alone. The Lonely only fulfilled that desire.

Daisy, Trevor, and Julia, all devoted to hunting those things they deemed monstrous.

Melanie, holding tight to that bullet in her leg because on some level, she wanted it. It felt good, it felt right, it felt like it fit right alongside the anger and spite that drove her to success.

Annabelle Cane first encountered the Web when she was a child, running away from home in order to tug on her parents’ heartstrings in just the right way to have them wrapped around her little finger. Later on she volunteered to be the subject of an ESP study. Hell, she’s the one who dangled the “Is it really You that wants this?” question over Jon’s head in S4.

And that brings us to Jon, beloved Jarchivist, the Voice that Opened the Door. Ever since he was a child targeted by the Web, he was looking for answers. He joined the Magnus Institute’s Research Department looking for them, he stalked his coworkers in search for them, he broke into Gertrude’s flat and laptop out of desperation for them. And when he realized that all he had to do was Ask to get truthful answers to his questions? It was only natural for him to jump at that opportunity.

Elias told S3 Jon that he did want this, that he chose it, that at every crossroads he kept pushing onwards, and the inner turmoil that caused was one of the focal points for Jon’s character through the rest of the podcast.

There’s a certain line of thinking in many circles about the power of the Devil: he’s not able to create anything new. All he’s able to do is twist and warp that which was already present, making it something ugly and profane while still maintaining the facade of something desirable.

Jon didn’t choose the Eye. But he did wander into its realm of power, exhibiting exactly the qualities it was most capable of hijacking and warping to its own ends. Jon didn’t choose the Apocalypse. But Jonah picked at him little by little, pointing him towards each Fear individually. Jon didn’t want to release the Fears. But the Web tugged on his strings just so and laid a pretty trail for him to follow until he reached its desired conclusion.

Jon didn’t choose ultimate power, or omniscience, or even his own role as Head Archivist. But he said “yes” to the right (wrong?) orders and kept on pushing for the right (wrong?) answers. He wanted to succeed at the work he had been assigned. He wanted to protect his friends. He wanted to rescue them when they were lost. He wanted to prevent the apocalypse, to save the world. He wanted to know why he was still alive, when so many had died right in front of him.

The Great Wheel of Evil Color that is the Entities might not fit as neatly into categories in this universe - maybe there was no Robert Smirke trying to impose strict categories on emotional experiences, or maybe the ways they manifest in the world has turned on its head (goodness knows many of them have been showcased and blended in some very fun and new and horrifying ways so far) - but their fundamental foundations seem to be the same. Hell, in episode one we learned that there had been enough individual incidents to create a distinction between “dolls, watching” and “dolls, human skin.”

Smirke’s Fourteen isn’t going to be relevant as common parlance, RQ said that already, but I don’t think that means the Fears themselves (and their Dream Logic-based rules) are different - I think it means that the levels of understanding, language used, and personal connections among people “in the know” are going to be entirely unfamiliar

[dewhander]

i draw the same picture of her a million times bc the image is burned in my brain via prophetic vision. ok? sorry

aka nautty

[gabe-lovebot]

ALTARS OF ECSTASY (title pending)

[deeply-unserious-fellow]

This is for everybody who saw my vision :)

Vers. w/out the hell police. Square. Things. Cuz why not lol

[starbuck]

we need to defend a protagonist’s right to suck ass and be boring and do everything wrong

[unfinishedslurs]

prank gone wrong (viral!) (steddie)

Eddie’s been someone’s dirty little secret before.

He’s got a type, okay? Unfortunately hot jocks are often the type of asshole to get sucked off behind the bleacher and then turn around and spit in his face about it. Going right back to their friends to talk shit about what a freak Eddie is, never mind the fact that his mouth still tastes like their nasty fucking jizz. He’s used to it by now. Used to people who pretend they barely know each other. He’s not asking they parade their relationship for the whole town to see, just someone who doesn’t pretend they’re strangers. Is that too much to ask? 

He’s so fucking stupid. He really thought this time would be different.

Steve Harrington barreled into his life like a goddamn train and Eddie’s been derailed ever since.

The first time he met Steve he was six. Eddie still lived with his mom, and she took him to the park, where he met a little boy who wrinkled his nose and told him he smelled bad. Steve does not remember this, and turned red with mortification the first time Eddie told him

After that incredible hit to baby Eddie’s self-esteem, they didn’t interact much, existing on the periphery of each others lives. He figured it didn’t matter. Harrington was a year under him, and a douche besides. Was ready to leave town from the moment he learned to walk. As soon as he graduated, he could finally get the hell out of this place and never think about the assholes he went to school with again.

His mom leaves. His dad gets arrested. He moves in with his Uncle Wayne, who only has one bedroom in his trailer and won’t take no for an answer when he gives it to Eddie. 

Eddie doesn’t graduate.

(Harrington comes back to school different after Byers beats him up. Eddie doesn’t notice. He’s got bigger things to worry about.)

They don’t talk in Eddie’s second run of senior year either. He hears the gossip, sees him come to school with stitches in his forehead and no girlfriend. Still, it’s none of his damn business. He rolls his eyes at the rumors and stays far away from Billy Hargrove.

Steve Harrington graduates. Eddie doesn’t.

And this is where his careful distance falls apart.

It’s the mall’s fault of course. What isn’t? Businesses closing down, rent going up, his resolve crumbling. All over some fucking ice cream. God, Eddie should have just turned around. Left the store and the mall and the entire damn town behind. 

He’s aware he’s being melodramatic, but in his defense he’s queer in Indiana. He has a right to be. 

Anyways, the point is that Eddie saw Harrington’s little blue shorts and red lips and cannot be held responsible for what happened after. 

(They fucked. That’s what happened. They fucked, and kept fucking, and then after the mall burned down Steve showed up on his doorstep with suspiciously placed bruises and his coworker and looked at Eddie with pleading eyes. He didn’t even bring Robin home to her parents like a sensible person, just insisted on having her there because they were a package deal now and couldn’t be separated. Like puppies, Robin said when he looked at her. Last he checked, she wanted to bite Steve’s head off, and now they were attached at the hip?

He got used to it quickly. He had to. She comes on half their dates. Steve’s lucky he’s so cute.)

Now, nearly five months after Steve served him ice cream for the first time, he feels his heart shatter in the Hawkins High parking lot. 

“Harrington,” Dustin shouts, and it carries across the empty lot. Steve’s head jerks up and he waves, Robin standing beside him. “Steve, c’mere!”

Steve tilts his head. “What?”

“Come. Here.” Dustin repeats, enunciating clearly. Mike and Lucas look at him like he’s insane. So do Gareth, Jeff, and Chuck. 

Steve, who is standing a mere 20 feet away, turns to Robin and says something that makes her snort. Eddie can practically hear his bitchy murmur. 

“Is that Harrington’s girlfriend?” He hears Gareth ask. He has to swallow his laughter. 

“Yes,” Dustin says.

“No,” Mike corrects. 

“He won’t admit anything, but he always has a bunch of hickies and stuff after hanging out with her,” Lucas clarifies, because half the time when Steve says he’s hanging out with Robin he's actually with Eddie. The fact that Robin is usually still there is irrelevant. Marking up his boyfriend is one of his favorite pastimes. He refuses to let his boyfriend’s “soulmate” get in the way just because she refuses to sleep in one of the Harrington’s fancy guest rooms like a normal person unless he kicks her out. The way they both pout at him for it is fucking ridiculous. He ends up giving in half the time, and then lies awake and cold on the very edge of the bed because Robin starfishes her way across the rest and Steve is a blanket hog. 

The first time he tried giving Steve a hickey as some kind of dominance move for privacy, Robin stared him dead in the eye and didn’t back down. 

“I can do that too,” she said, and promptly bit Steve on the shoulder. Steve, who was shirtless and already slightly dazed from Eddie’s ministrations, let out an honest to God squeak. Like a dog toy. Eddie and Robin both stared at him before breaking into loud cackles that had a blushing Steve yelling at them before finally burrowing under the covers and refusing to come out. Needless to say, Eddie didn’t get laid that night. 

“Harring-ton,” Dustin whines. 

“I’m literally right here. You come here.”

He did, if only to grab Steve by the wrist and drag him to where everyone else was standing. Steve squawks. “When we’re late for dinner with Ma, I’m telling her it was your fault—“

“I want you to meet everyone!”

“I went to school with them!”

“Yeah, but they think you’re still a dick,” he says, as if they’re not standing right there. Steve is similarly engrossed in their conversation, not even noticing that Dustin’s stopped walking. 

“They can think whatever—“ he walks right into Eddie and lets out a startled oof. Eddie, who let it happen, catches him as he flails. 

“Well hello to you too,” he says, not bothering to hide his amusement. 

Steve looks at him with wide eyes, gaze dropping down to his lips before whirling around and snapping, “Henderson!”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“I didn’t do anything,” Lucas mimics under his breath, ducking behind Steve when Dustin turns around with the fury of a thousand suns in his eyes. 

He just stands there, hands on his hips as the kids bicker around him. 

“Oh, so now we can talk?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, brow furrowed like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s talking about. 

Eddie can’t help but laugh, a sharp sound that makes Steve jump. “What do you think it means, Harrington? You never want to talk to me in front of the kids! Don’t want to dirty your hands with the Freak in public, I guess.”

“I…what are you talking about?”

[no talkie henderosn]

“What?” His eyes get wide, panicked, as he reaches for Eddie. “Eddie, that’s not—you have to know that’s not what I meant by that. I never meant it like that!”

“Then how did you mean it?”

Steve mumbles something he can’t make out. 

“Speak up, sweetheart.” It comes out mean, he knows it does, but he’s feeling a little mean right now. Lashing out like a wounded animal just because his boyfriend didn’t want to talk to him in public. 

Actually, when he puts it that way, he remembers he’s justified. 

Steve says something again, still incomprehensible. Eddie rolls his eyes. “If you can’t stop mumbling, I’ll just leave.”

That does the trick. “I thought we were playing a prank on Henderson together!” 

Eddie gapes at him. “What?”

“I thought,” he repeats, running an anxious hand through his hair, “we were pretending not to know each other to mess with the kid. Eddie, baby, you’ve gotta know I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known you were hurting. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t I…” This can’t be real. He’s been agonizing for months, and for what? A prank? Just some stupid, shitty prank Steve thought he was in on? He’s going to jump off the quarry. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have had so much fun with that!”

“I thought you knew!”

“How would I have known? I can’t read your mind!”

“You can sometimes,” he says, pouting. Eddie wishes they weren’t in the middle of an argument, he wants to kiss those lips so bad. 

He groans into his hands. “It’s significantly easier to tell when your boyfriend wants to fuck than it is to read ‘Hey, let’s play a prank on this twelve year old,’ on someone’s face, sweetheart.”

“I guess,” Steve huffs. Then his face softens. Eddie lets himself be drawn in by the wrist, helpless in the face of his sweet smile. “We can stop,” he promises, swaying in close enough for his breath to ghost across Eddie’s lips. “We could walk into Hellfire tomorrow holding hands, if you wanted to. Anything you want, just say the word.”

“How would we walk into Hellfire? It’s at your house.”

Steve pinches him for that. 

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

Elim Garak: fucking around vs finding out

[hailsatanacab]

For the prompt ask game!

9. Sleep deprivation and/or 37. Secret Relationship and/or 40. Identity reveal/major secret reveal

(I selected a few so you can chose the one that resonates the most.)

For any DPxDC characters. <3

*emerges from a google docs, covered in blood and panting* i did it... it is done.

thank you for the prompt!! because i love a challenge, or because i can't stop myself, i went and did all of them!! for everyone!! everyone is sleep deprived and everyone is revealing secrets ^^'

Danny/Tim, mentioned Jazz/Jason

(๑•́ ₃ •̀๑) enjoy!! prompt ask game

kid napping

“Red Robin, sound off. Status?”

“All good here, Oracle. Everything okay?”

It’s been a slow night, never a good sign. Pent up energy itches under his skin and he stretches when he stands, preparing for whatever Oracle is going to throw his way. It’s going to be something, he can tell.

“Good.” Relief briefly colours her voice answers, before she becomes serious again, keys clacking away in the background. “There’s been a report from Agent A. It appears that one Timothy Drake has been kidnapped and is being ransomed for five million dollars and a helicopter. I’m tracing the call now.”

“A helicopter, too? Kidnappers these days, used to be they just wanted their money and that would be the end of it… a fucking helicopter, wow.” Red Hood scoffs, and Red Robin can’t help but join in the laughter over the comms.

“Doesn’t exactly sound like these are the brightest tools in the shed now, does it, Hood? Wonder what poor schmuck they’ve got instead.” Nightwing says, slightly out of breath. 

The smile slips off Red Robin’s face and clammy, cold dread shivers down his spine. A stone settles in his stomach. He wets his lips and clears his throat. “Oracle, can you pull up the CCTV on my apartment near WE? Any closer to tracing the call?”

“Still on the trace, they’re using a jammer. Agent A is cooperating so they should phone back soon, which will help.” she reports, falling into silence as he finds the video feed.

“You know who it is?”

“I hope not.”

It’s tense, he taps his feet on the rooftop, fingers tightening over his grapple as he fights the urge to fly off the roof and check for himself. It better not be him. Please, dear God, don’t let it not be him.

“What are you thinking, Red Robin?” Batman growls through the comms. Red Robin can hear the wind under his words, whipping fast as he no doubt makes his way over to his position.

“I had a, uh, a friend coming over tonight. From behind, he… he could be mistaken for Tim Drake.”

The jokes fall silent, the comms growing serious as they pick up on his tone.

“Well, fuck.” 

“Eloquent as always, Hood.”

“Shut up, bat-brat.”

“You were right, Red Robin, it looks like it was your… friend they caught, instead. About two hours before the call came in. I’m following their van now, I should have the destination soon. In the meantime, it looks like they’re heading towards the docks.”

Red Robin throws himself off the building, shooting his grapple as low as he dares to get the fastest swing he can. 

They have Danny. 

Worry gnaws at his gut even as gravity pulls it into his throat with another swing.

Danny is… And Red Robin means this in the nicest way possible, but Danny is fragile. They haven’t talked about it, but RR knows that Danny has health problems. Something plaguing him since he was young, that’s landed him in the hospital more than once. A weak heart, far too slow to be normal, possibly chronic fatigue—he’s always so tired, falling asleep anywhere he can.

Sometimes, he doesn’t even need to put his head down. Once, when they had gone to the corner store to get some popcorn to enjoy their movie (which Danny had explicitly and repeatedly promised he wouldn’t snore through this time), Danny had rested his head on Tim’s shoulder while they were waiting and he’d just… gone. On his feet, asleep, just like that.

He’d laughed, when Tim woke him up. Apologised. Said Tim made him feel safe enough to fall asleep just about anywhere and—

Red Robin grits his teeth and corrects his course as Oracle updates them with more precise coordinates.

Tim had carried him home that night, piggy-back for four blocks, but by the end of it, he wasn’t tired at all. And that’s another thing, Danny’s just so light. It’s concerning.

They never did watch that movie, but it’s a night that Tim can’t help remembering fondly all the same. They’d ended up rewatching some old sitcom that Danny’s seen countless times but Tim’s never really bothered with, Danny drifting off to sleep again and Tim eventually following him, because… sleep is easy with Danny.

It’s the same for him, he thinks. He can’t explain it, but he feels safe enough to sleep with Danny, too.

He needs to be alright.

“So… Is this friend just a friend? Or a friend friend?” 

“A friend, Nightwing. Now hurry up.”

He’s not in the mood to play these games, not now. There’s a reason why none of them know about Danny, and this is one of them. His family, as much as he loves them, are just too damn nosey for their own good.

“You know that doesn’t answer my question at all.”

“Then why don’t you ask something intelligible, rather than continue with your childish antics?” Robin snarks, and for once, Red Robin has to agree with him. Or, rather, he’s grateful for the distraction that it gives him.

Tim has secrets. He’s sure that Danny does, too, and so far—aside from the standard background check he always runs on new friends and friend friends alike—he’s done very well to respect them. He just can’t say that his family would do the same.

They can be overwhelming, to say the least, and Tim has tried his best to protect Danny from that.

Only to fail to protect him in every other way that it counts.

“How long have you guys been ‘friends’?”

“Nightwing, save it, please.”

“What’s his name?”

He ignores him.

Red Robin lands on the building first, thank goodness. He wastes no time in finding a skylight that can be pried open fairly quietly, slipping inside without a second thought.

“Wait for backup, Red Robin, that is an order!” Batman says, when he lets them know he’s in.

“Negative, Batman. I’m getting him back.”

“Red Robin!”

He weaves silently through the desks on the second floor of the warehouse, always moving, always keeping a trained eye on the shadows around him.

When he reaches the stairs, he hears voices.

“Looks like three of them, armed. The-the hostage is tied to a chair in the middle of the room, he…” Red Robin takes a steadying breath. The person has a burlap sack over their head is slumped to the side, from where he is, Red Robin can’t see if his chest is moving. There’s blood on the floor. “He needs medical assistance. Another two on the northside entrance.”

The comms explode in admonitions, everyone pleading with him to stay where he is, to wait for help, but fuck that. With a tap, he switches them off and he can finally, just about make out the words of the kidnappers as he creeps down the first few steps.

“—shouldn’t he have woken up by now?”

“I don’t know, man, you’re the one that hit him! Do you think he’s—”

“No! I didn’t even hit him that hard, I swear!” the man cries, holding his hands up in surrender. “I just couldn’t take any more of his stupid jokes!”

If there was any doubt in Red Robin’s mind that they picked up Danny by mistake, it’s gone now. Yeah. If you get Danny, you get his stupid jokes, too.

He creeps closer. 

There’s some storage crates between him and Danny, if he can get behind there without being seen then that leaves him in a good position for when whoever’s next in takes out the guys at the front. He can’t do anything without them gone first, not without risking them taking shots inside and endangering Danny.

The man that hit Danny circles round behind him and grabs at his hands.

“What are you even doing, Pat? Who gives a shit, leave him alone.”

“I’m just checking! I just gotta see!”

“Fuck’s sake, guys, who cares? We just gotta get our money, that’s it—”

“And our helicopter!”

“And our—”

“Shit, I can’t find a pulse! Shit, Frank, I killed him, I—”

Jason told him once that when the Pits overtook him, he used to see green. Instead of blacking out, he’d be swimming in that putrid Lazarus colour and he’d slip into that rage and bad things would happen.

He’s heard of people seeing red, too, but really, he thinks that’s more of a literary device.

Tim doesn’t see anything aside from his targets.

A barrage of birdarangs take the guns from the guys at the front, the three around Danny startling badly enough that the guy that kil—that’s behind Danny—stumbles, losing his footing.

Only one of them shoots.

Amateurs. 

There’s a round of curses on the comms as the shots come through. Oracle must have turned them back on.

“Fucking hell—Nightwing and I are at the front, Red Robin, don’t worry about them.”

Red Robin’s barely listening.

He spins, kicking the largest guy in the stomach hard enough so that he doubles over, wheezing. Following through the movement, another kick lands on the side of his head and he’s down. 

The second one, Frank, gets his wits about him and raises his gun, spraying wildly. He’s a shit shot, going wide in panic, and Red Robin simply ducks and rushes forward, keeping low. Tackling the guy, he grabs the gun off of him and uses it to smash him across the face, once, twice, three times, before he stops moving.

“Oracle, get police and paramedics on scene, now.” Batman says, the displeasure in his voice evident. “Red Robin, Robin and I are coming in from the top.”

Pat hasn’t even made it up off the floor yet, scrambling backwards, fear plain on his face. 

Red Robin stands, breathing heavily, gun still in hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to do it! Please—please, don’t, please!”

Red Robin doesn’t kill.

Well, no, Red Robin doesn’t normally kill.

No, that’s not quite right, either.

Red Robin has killed. Red Robin will more than likely kill again. Red Robin sees no problem with killing.

The gun is up, pointing towards the guy without any real thought about it.

Footsteps rush behind him, the familiar heavy footfalls of Batman and Robin, so he doesn’t bother turning around. The gun follows the guy as he keeps pulling himself backwards, snot and tears mingling down his face.

“Red Robin,” Batman says, softly.

It’s always weird hearing Batman’s voice like that. It’s not the first time, obviously—Batman can’t use his scary intimidating voice on victims or children, after all—but having it used on him is weird. 

“Breathe.”

“He’s dead. They killed him.”

If hearing Batman’s voice was weird, Red Robin can’t even recognise his own.

Distantly, he realises he’s dissociating. There’s a tightness in his chest, it’s hard to breathe, a growing buzz drowns out any noise in his ears and he can’t think, he can’t—

A heavy hand squeezes his shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts. Batman reaches around and gently removes the gun from his grip, and Tim feels the instant loss of it. He should have done it, why hadn’t he done it?

Robin takes care of the last man, his crying cut off by a swift kick to the head. Nightwing and Red Hood join them, zip-tying the men on the floor and starting to drag them back to the entrance of the warehouse one by one.

No one says a word.

Shrugging off Batman’s hand, Tim moves towards the chair.

Shaking, he takes a deep breath and removes the sack. The small part of him that was left hoping it wasn’t him, it couldn’t be him, please dear God let it not be him, shatters.

Even dead, he looks peaceful.

Tim’s seen death. He’s no stranger to it, he’s seen what it can do to a person. There’s some blood coagulating over his eyebrows, but otherwise, he looks peaceful. Is that comforting? That he didn’t suffer?

Danny’s head lolls to the side as the sack comes completely away, his hair flopping over his eyes. Tim’s been on at him to get a haircut lately, he thinks it’ll be nice tidied up a bit, just on the sides. It’ll get rid of that permanent bedhead. Help him with job interviews, he’s got to be thinking about that now that he’s in his last year of college.

It’s about the only thing that’ll hold him back, Tim thinks. Danny’s brilliant. Any employer would be a fool to turn him down because of his shaggy hair, but employers are stupid so it makes sense to put your best foot forward and—

Tim falls to his knees.

Fuck.

He’s dead, he’s really—Danny’s skin is horribly pale, cold to the touch. Gone is his bright, cheerful smile. 

“Danny, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, I—” 

He stops himself with a deep, shuddering breath. He can’t break down here, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t.

Instead, he tips forward to rest his head in Danny’s lap, arms curling around himself. They were too late. They got here as fast as they could and they were too late.

 “Danny, I’m so sorry…” he whispers. “I… I love you, I love you, I’m sorry.”

Dimly, he can feel the others standing around them. Someone crouches down beside him, resting a comforting arm over his back, but he doesn’t turn his head to see who it is. He squeezes his grip on Danny’s legs tighter.

“Come on, baby bird. Let’s—”

They’re interrupted by a huge, honking snore as Danny jerks himself awake.

Tim’s head snaps up, staring at Danny with wide eyes.

“You were asleep?” Red Robin springs up, several different emotions rapidly flip flopping through him.

“Wha… What?” Danny heaves a yawn, blinking blearily down at him. “Sorry, I’m just… they were shit kidnappers, man, really boring. Honestly, worst abduction yet.”

“You were asleep? I thought you were dead!”

“Not mutually exlusive, you know.” Danny says through another yawn. He rolls his neck around with an almighty crack and glances at everyone. “Didn’t think I’d warrant the whole Bat brigade, though…”

“The kidnappers thought they had Tim Drake.” Batman supplies, while Red Robin tries to work through the emotional whiplash.

“Ah, makes sense… wait.” Danny sits up suddenly, squinting at Red Robin. “Did you say you loved me?”

“No, of course not, why would I—”

“Tim? Is that—are you—are you Red Robin?”

“Everyone, hold the fuck up!” Red Hood shouts from the other side of the warehouse, having finished securing the perps to a streetlight outside. “Double R is dating Danny fucking Nightingale?”

Well, there goes his identity… Oh, who’s he kidding, Danny’s smart. There’s no way he could have salvaged that. This was not how he thought the night was going to go.

“Cranberry, is that you?” Danny twists in his chair, somehow delighted to see Red Hood rescuing him, too. “I thought I smelled you lurking about!”

“Shut it, you little shit. Since when were you dating this dweeb?”

“I’m sorry,” Red Robin pleads, hands in the air to try and slow down the onslaught of information and insults, “you two know each other?”

“Cranberry?” Nightwing echoes, looking as lost as Red Robin feels.

“Yeah, Cranberry—The Cranberries—zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie. Obviously. Also he’s wearing a big, fuck off red helmet.”

“Yeah, sure, makes sense.”

It’s about the only thing that does.

“And please don’t call my boyfriend a dweeb, Cranberry. Especially when he just said he loves me for the first time.”

“He only said it because he thought you were dead.”

“I am dead, so it counts.”

“Only half, so I’d say that puts you at a solid ‘like’. Tim’s—and savour this, Tim, because I’m only going to say it once—Tim’s intelligent, so I’m sure he’ll come to his senses soon.”

Danny just throws Red Hood such a shit-eating grin. A level of feral that Tim’s only seen before in Damian. 

“That’s what I used to say about Jazz, too.”

Hood scoffs in offence, and to be honest, Tim’s not sure where he should go from here. What the hell is happening, how do they know each other?

“Come on, is anyone going to untie me or am I really meeting your family mafia-style?”

“Do it yourself, Slimer.” Red Hood laughs, crossing his arms.

“Ugh, you suck so much. I’ll fucking slime you, just you wait. Can’t believe Jazz even likes you, I preferred it when she was dating Johnny.”

And then, without Danny doing anything other than muttering obscenities at Red Hood, the ropes fall to the ground. In one swift motion, Danny stands up and stretches himself to his full height of 5’6.

“All of you need to explain, now.” commands Batman, and honestly, Red Robin’s very much on his side of it.

“I can’t believe it… Jason and Timmy are both in secret relationships? That’s… How come no one told me?” Poor Nightwing sounds the most shocked out of all of them. He turns to Damian and clasps onto both of his shoulders. “You’re not secretly dating, are you, D? Please tell me you’re not, please tell me you’re single, please?”

Of course, Robin just clicks his tongue and pushes his hands away. Really, Red Robin doesn’t think that Nightwing’s in any danger of that happening, he’d be surprised if anyone could stand Robin enough to actually date him.

He shakes his head and turns to Danny, who’s staring right back at him, worry clear on his face.

Fuck, he... He's alive. He's really alive.

Tim pulls him into a bone-crushing hug, fingers buried deep in his NASA shirt. Tucking his face into the crook of Danny's shoulder, he laughs wetly with the joy of it. He's alive. He hasn't lost him. He's safe.

“I’m sorry I haven’t told you before now, starshine, but…” Danny breaks the hug and softly pulls away from him to rise on his tiptoes to place a kiss his cheek. The skin burns cold where his lips touch. “I love you, too. Also, you’re gonna wanna sit down. This is going to be a lot.”

[front-facing-pokemon]