#protection of the pack

[pcktknife]

zoroark pokedex entries

[404-art-found]

guardian of the masquerade

[r0b0t1me]

You are not supposed to be here. You don’t belong here. Get out get out get out GET OUT-

fanart for chapter 4 of take little bites by @bigdvmnhero​

bonus. because i couldnt pick a single scene to draw out LMAO

[noxribles]

a little cruise adventure hc <3 (left to right)

from this little panel

[columboscreens]

[general-cyno]

today in more zolu thoughts: yet another thing I find fascinating about zoro and luffy's relationship, which I believe the LA managed to capture pretty well despite the differences between it and the og source material, is that while zoro's capacity for loyalty and devotion where luffy's concerned are insane (the all-encompassing, heartfelt, lay down my life and dreams for you, follow you until death or the very end of everything kind of crazy), they're not entirely unconditional per se. the condition here being that he has to measure up to zoro's standards - that luffy has to prove himself a man worthy of following.

there are plenty examples of this in the manga, but I'll stick to where it and opla intersect. so manga!zoro pretty much stands firm with this condition when he agrees to follow luffy, warning him about not getting in the way of zoro's dream right away. opla zoro is a lot more reluctant to join in comparison, and he just seemingly goes along with the whole thing in a more "might as well" manner; even so, there's these few subtle moments where you can see him being struck awe by luffy's faith in himself/his dream (the dinner at kaya's) and showing exactly why he's a "different" kind of pirate (ie freeing the folks from orange town).

still, the most pivotal moment is zoro's fight with mihawk in both cases. this is where luffy has to really prove himself to zoro, for the first time. because talk of dreams and promises and not hindering them is nice and all, but can luffy really stand by what he says when push comes to shove? when the life of someone he cares about is on the line? and man. the answer is yes.

in the manga, by stopping johnny and yosaku from intervening and refusing to do so himself as well, even though he was deeply upset by zoro getting hurt, luffy proved he wouldn't go back on his word nor betray zoro's trust and the faith he had placed in him. in a similar fashion, opla luffy letting zoro go ahead with the duel despite his own apprehension/doubts and nami questioning both of their choices, is what finally led to zoro recognizing him as his captain out loud and accepting his role as a first mate.

I just think it's interesting that these two kind of make each other walk on a tightrope. only the world's greatest swordsman can stand by the pirate king's side. the pirate king can have the world's greatest swordsman by his side, if he proves himself worthy of it. but the best part? for me, it's that zoro and luffy are able to challenge one another this way (or set the bar that high) because they absolutely believe the other can rise up to it and beyond.

[green-eyedfirework]

Dick stared at the baby in the cradle, frozen to the spot, unable to breathe.  He was so…small.  Tiny.  His little hand was formed into a fist and he was making soft little breaths and some part of Dick was drowning in happiness.  It felt like the world had narrowed down to the little curl of the baby’s mouth and his heart rose and fell with the infant’s breaths.

Nothing else mattered.  Not the aches and pains throughout his body, not the dread and anxiety twisting his gut, not the ticking clock hanging above his head.  His baby was here and that was enough.

“Damian,” Dick sounded out.  Not a name he’d picked—it was ill luck to pick a name before the babe was born, and Dick had no time to think of one before it’d been pronounced.  “Dami,” Dick shortened, and that felt better.  “Baby bat,” he whispered, the forbidden name hanging heavy in the air.

Damian was a part of the Bat pack, no matter what Ra’s al Ghul thought.  Dick was a part of the Bat pack.  And it was long past time that they went back home.

Dick adjusted the supply pack so it wasn’t cutting into his shoulders and reached into the cradle.  “Shh,” he hummed as he carefully scooped Damian up.  “Shh, it’s okay, Dami, Mama’s here.”  The babe woke up with a fussing sound and Dick hastily brought him closer.  “It’s okay,” he crooned, an eye on the door as his heart beat faster.  “Shh, it’s okay.”

Damian’s eyes fluttered open, one hand flailing at the movement, but then subsided, yawning wide and curling closer against Dick’s neck, breathing in his scent and relaxing.  The babe made a slight smacking sound and fell silent again, falling straight asleep.

Dick let out a shaky breath and fought the urge to cry.  He’d been terrified that Damian wouldn’t recognize him—it had been just a handful of days, Dick knew that, but between Ra’s al Ghul’s gloating and the others’ refusal to tell him how much time had passed, Dick had half-feared that the pup would have no idea who he was.  It was part of the reason that had spurred Dick into getting them out now.

“We’re going to be okay,” Dick whispered, drawing the cloak around them both.

The keep was silent, the corridors yawning and empty, and every near-silent footfall rose his apprehension.  It was the witching hour, late enough that everyone was asleep, and Dick stuck to the shadows as he avoided the patrols.  If he got caught now—well, Dick didn’t put it past Ra’s to throw him in a cell now that he’d served his purpose.

Dick kept glancing over his shoulder, worried that this whole thing was a trap, but no one spotted him.  No one shouted or raised the alarm.  No one stopped him from crossing the courtyard and slipping out of an unlocked wooden gate, Ra’s al Ghul’s precious heir slumbering in his arms.

“We’re going home, Dami,” Dick breathed out when the keep’s walls finally disappeared from sight.  The pack he hadn’t seen in nearly a year, his family, his siblings, Bruce, home.  Tears pricked at his eyes as he took a wavering breath.  “We’re finally going home.”

~#~

Dick was exhausted. He gave birth just days ago, and while fleeing the League pack had been aided by adrenaline, the effects had long worn off. The brief jolt of fear when he'd been captured by the Defiance pack hadn't lasted long after the alpha agreed to let Dick travel with them.

But the alpha had made it clear they wouldn't take any freeloaders. They were aiming to get through the mountains before the winter storms hit, and Dick swore that he wouldn't be a hindrance. Maybe slightly exaggerated how long it'd been since Damian's birth.

But he would do anything to get away from Ra's. Through the mountain meant back to the valley, back to the Bat pack, it had been nearly a year and Dick desperately wished to go home.

His feet ached. The first few days hadn't been that bad, with frequent stops and an easy path, but there were growing clouds on the horizon and it was clear that time was running out. If they didn't make it through the pass before the storm hit, they'd be stuck here till spring.

And Dick had tried to keep up with the increased pace, he really had, but Damian was a heavy weight tight against his chest, and the pack grew heavier by the hour, and Dick's trembling muscles grew weaker and weaker. He'd expected to fall behind, to slip past the other members of the pack, struggling up the path as the others disappeared from view, but he'd kept his position in a small knot at the back of the pack, with a few of the pack's warriors bringing up the rear.

Some of the others had offered to carry Damian for him, with sincere, open expressions, but Dick wasn't ready to let go of his son. Not now. Not when he still remembered the way Ra's ripped him away just moments after his birth.

But now they were stopped for the night, and Dick could take a moment to breathe. Breathe, and ignore the throbbing pain in his feet and the fire in his muscles and the shakiness and the increasing dread of what tomorrow would bring.

Damian made a sharp cry and Dick exhaled.

His baby was moderately well behaved when Dick was holding him, but gods forbid Dick settle him down, even to clean him up. Damian protested shrilly every time. It was a trial to get him to sleep at night and was definitely the reason that Dick arranged his furs away from the others. This pack was already giving him shelter and food and safety, he couldn't repay them with a wailing babe.

Dick finished cleaning Damian and untied enough of his cloak and tunic to bare a breast. Damian immediately began suckling, and Dick's own stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn't picked up his dinner ration.

Dick squinted past the fire, towards the mouth of the cave, where laughter and conversation flowed. The very thought of standing back up and limping over there made him dizzy. He needed rest more than food. And better he not take too much, especially after slowing them down today.

Dick gently brushed the wisps of dark hair on Damian's head. His baby. His son. For Damian, everything was worth it.

He was so focused on the babe that he didn't register the footsteps until they stopped right behind him.

Dick half twisted in an immediate jolt of fear, keeping Damian out of view as he looked up. And up.

The alpha was looking down at him, expression a faint scowl, single eye burning.

"You didn't eat dinner," the alpha said. There was a bowl of something hot and smelling mouthwatering in his hand.

"Ah," Dick said, unsure how to continue. Was the alpha looking for acknowledgment? Apology? What—

Dick's train of thought stuttered to a halt when the alpha crouched, placing the bowl next to Dick.

"You need to eat," the alpha said, tone faintly disapproving, "To keep your strength up."

Dick flushed at this reminder of how he'd slowed them down and ducked his head. "Thank you," he said softly. Gruff and terse as it was, it was still kindness, of which Dick had seen none in the League pack.

Only an obsession with power and victory.  Ra's hadn't cared for Dick beyond the powerful heir that Dick could birth him.  He certainly wouldn't sit with Dick as Damian finally detached and Dick laid him down in the furs while he covered himself back up.

He certainly wouldn't have stayed as Damian realized his mother was no longer holding him and started crying, high and thin.

Dick attempted to shovel the food down his throat as fast as possible, heat creeping up his shoulders the longer the alpha stayed, watching him scream.

"Sorry," Dick said in a breath between spoons, "He doesn't like being put down."

The alpha made no visible sign of his annoyance.  "May I hold him?" he asked instead.

Dick almost choked on the stew. No, was the instinctive response, no, no one would ever take Damian away from him again, no, especially not another alpha—

But Dick was keenly aware that he was here on the alpha's sufferance, and Dick ducked his head in a nod.

He couldn't breathe as the alpha reached out and picked up the crying babe.

He was gentle.  Practiced, in a way that spoke of long time with babies.  A little rocking and Damian quieted, looking with wide eyes up at this new person.

The alpha chuckled. Dick stared.

"What's his name?"

This time, Dick didn't choke, fear worn down to alertness but not panic as the alpha lightly tickled the babe's belly, showing no ill intent.

"Damian."

"Strong name," the alpha hummed, tapping one of Damian's little fists.  The babe immediately caught the finger.  "For a strong babe," the alpha smiled.

That was too close to what Ra's had said.  Dick scraped up his last few spoons of stew to avoid a response.

"How old did you say he was?"

Dick swallowed.  The alpha was looking down at the babe, not at him, and Dick frantically tried to remember what he'd said.  He'd implied that it had been more than a month for sure.

"Five weeks," Dick said.

"How strange," the alpha looked up, blue eye pinning him in place, gaze level and hard. "Because the last time you told me six weeks."

Dick went cold. He couldn't breathe. Damian was still in the alpha's arms—an angry alpha's arms, a few feet away yet so far from Dick's reach.

"How old is he really?" the alpha demanded, voice even but steely.

Dick's gaze didn't move from his son. "Two weeks. I think."

"You think?"

"I don't—" Dick swallowed, paralyzed, "I don't know.  How many days.  No—no one told me."

Something flashed in the alpha's eye, angry and dark.

"Please," Dick tried, mouth dry. He couldn't look away from Damian. "Please, I swear I can keep up. I can. Don't make me leave. Please."  Ra's was undoubtedly out there, looking for him. Looking for his heir. And if he caught Dick—

Ra's had already gotten what he wanted from Dick. And Dick couldn't leave Damian all alone.

"I do not appreciate being lied to," the alpha said coldly, and Dick made a choked sound. He needed Damian back, please, his baby, Dick wanted him back—"Unexpected information causes delays. And our window for getting through the mountains is short."

"I'm sorry, alpha." Dick couldn't think. His head was ringing and his mouth was dry and his babe was in someone else's arms.

The alpha made a grumbling sound and reached out to hand Damian back. Dick snatched his baby with alacrity.

"Our pace tomorrow will be slower," the alpha said, straightening up, "Get some rest."

Dick stared at his departing back, thoroughly confused.

~#~

Their pace was indeed not as punishing, but Dick got very little rest with a demanding babe. The alpha must've said something to the others, because Dick's rations suddenly increased—he was being fed more than nearly anyone else—and one of the pack's healers approached him to give him a check up, but the alpha made no mention of the punishment for the lie.

They were a few days from the pass, shielded from a flurry of snow by the half tunnels they were walking through, and Dick had used the abundance of fires to take the time to air out his furs and wash his clothes. His little nest was in a corner as always, and he was facing away from the pack as he nursed Damian.

Footsteps, echoing through the stone. Dick glanced back, and froze when he caught sight of Slade.

The alpha's gaze was narrowed on Dick's back. For lack of anything else to wear, Dick was in the loose silks he'd worn in the League pack, too flimsy to do anything but entice. Dick's mouth went dry as the alpha stepped closer and knelt on the edge of the furs.

Dick abruptly turned away, heart rate skyrocketing.

No, was the overriding thought, but Dick was unattached and clearly fertile, and taking up pack resources to boot. It was only reasonable that he had to do something to pay for his place, and Dick knew that he was attractive. This shouldn't be a surprise.

Dick squeezed his eyes shut and suppressed the shaky breath. The alpha's anger at the lie made somewhat more sense—he wanted to know whether Dick was still torn up from the birth. But there were other things they could do, so the alpha didn't have to wait.

Fingers skimmed Dick's shoulder, sliding the sleeve of the silks off. The other sleeve was already off so Damian could feed, and the silks dropped to pool around his waist, leaving his top bare.

Dick choked down the sob. This wasn't Ra's. Slade had never hurt him. This pack was kind. This wouldn't be the League all over again. No one would hurt him here.

Fingers stroked down his back, catching and sliding on the scars that littered his skin, tracing patterns and making Dick shiver. Just scars, Dick reminded himself, shaking off the memory flash of pain, the agony, the way Dick hadn't been able to move for days afterwards—

"Who did this?" growled a very angry alpha.

Dick responded to the tone before the words, half curling around Damian with a shudder, pulling free of Slade's touch in the process. The alpha didn't follow, and when Dick twisted to meet his gaze, the alpha's rage was clearly visible.

Dick could feel the whip strikes against his skin, every last one.

"Those are recent," Slade nearly snarled, "Only months old. Who did this?"

How was Dick supposed to answer that?  Slade had made no probes when Dick had asked to cross the mountains with them, and Dick knew that the alpha had assumed that Dick's pack was dead. If he knew that Dick was running...

"I—it was another pack," Dick said slowly.

"Which pack."

Determined to not let him evade this time, then. Dick held Damian tighter. "The League," he said quietly.

~#~

They were at the pass, sheltered in a cave smaller than their usual. A storm had blown in—a weak one, but strong enough to halt their approach before midday. Dick had seen the alpha and his inner circle conferring, all of them visibly agitated, before they'd been given the order to stop.

It was a good decision not to attempt the pass in the middle of a snowstorm. The problem was if another storm followed before this one stopped, they were stuck. Trepidation and frustration ran through the entire pack.

Dick stayed in a corner, back against the wall, tracking the unrest. His arms were aching but he kept rocking Damian—he didn't want to risk frustration turning on a screaming infant.

The pack settled after a few hours, grumbles pacified, order restored to keep moods cheery. Most people dropped off to sleep in preparation for the hard day's trek in front of them.

Dick wasn't one of them.

His instincts had been bad enough after fleeing Ra's' pack, a new mother running on hyperawareness, but Slade's pack had provided a stabilizing effect. Dick had never forgotten that this wasn't his pack though, that he couldn't fully let down his guard, not with a baby to take care of, and the hypervigilance was keeping him awake.

He was exhausted, but something inside him wouldn't let him sleep.

The alpha and his warriors crept through the cramped cave in regular intervals, and Dick dully watched them go. The fires had dimmed down by the time the alpha stopped in front of Dick.

"You aren't sleeping," the alpha said.

"Can't," Dick whispered, because he was so exhausted but he just couldn't. He couldn't even keep looking up at Slade, his head drooped down, too heavy to lift.

"Come with me," the alpha turned on a heel and walked away.

It took a moment for Dick to register the command, and several more to lever up on aching feet. He stumbled after the alpha, drained and aching, and nearly walked into his back in a daze.

"Get in," Slade ordered, and Dick looked past him and at the pile of furs. Slade's pile of furs.

Dick's heart beat stuttered.

It took him a stretching moment to figure out how his limbs worked, but he jerkily crawled into the nest of furs. Damian and his little basket went to the side. He told Slade that he couldn't sleep, it made sense that the alpha wanted to burn off some restlessness, he—

A hand dragged roughly through his hair as he was covered by furs. "Sleep," the alpha said, "No one can touch you here."

No one could. He was in the alpha's nest, no one but the alpha could come after him, and Ra's wasn't the alpha, and Slade was walking away.

Something loosened in Dick's chest. Pack, safety, warmth.

Dick didn't remember closing his eyes.

~#~

Something woke him up a little later, or maybe it was a dream, hazy and dark. The scent of alpha became stronger, the warmth winding around him and pulling him towards the source of heat, and Dick fit comfortably in the hollows. He was out before he could try opening his eyes.

~#~

Dick woke up slowly. He was warm and safe and protected, utterly secure and content. The air smelled like alpha-mine-care and Dick was cradled in warmth.

Something had awoken him though, and Dick resurfaced to hear a thin, hesitant, hiccuping cry. Someone was making shushing sounds as Dick struggled all the way awake, Damian on his lips.

There was a figure crouched over the basket. Dick had a single moment to panic before he recognized the figure, and Emma pushed the basket closer to him with a soft smile.

"He's hungry," she said quietly, and Dick wriggled free of the furs to sit up. There was something wrapped around him, though, and it tightened around his waist as he tried to get up.

Damian made an actual cry, and Dick abandoned getting free to reach for the basket. Emma passed it over, her lips quirking, and Dick had his clothes shifted to allow Damian to latch on and start drinking before he stirred all the way awake.

"Alpha doesn't want to get up," Emma said teasingly, and Dick blinked at her.

These—these weren't his furs. He was sitting in the middle of camp, not a corner. And the pressure snaked around his waist was an arm clutching him tight.

Dick stared down at the sleeping alpha's face with numb surprise. Slade had curved around him, Dick tucked snugly in his grasp, and he didn't let go, even as he cracked open his eye.

"Alpha had a long night," Slade said gruffly, his arm tightening around Dick's waist.

"Of course," Emma agreed too easily, still grinning, and Slade made a low rumble as he pushed upright.

He stayed pressed against Dick, hand moving up to cup Damian's head as the pup sucked busily.

The rumble changed to something distinctly pleased as Slade plastered himself against Dick's back, tucking Dick into his arms and resting his chin on Dick's head for a moment.

"Good morning," he said quietly, and for a moment, Dick was in a different life.  A life where he could've woken like this every day, where he didn't have scars, where he wasn't running, where he wasn't terrified that his babe would be ripped from his arms.

"Good morning," Dick returned softly, relishing the moment for as long as it lasted.

~#~

"He's never going to learn to walk if you keep that up," Grant calls out, throwing a handful of grass at Slade.  Slade ignores him, hands firmly around Damian as the baby coos at a flower.

Dick snorts from his position in the grass.  He can look away from Damian now, can leave him with Slade without the clenching worry, but Slade's taken up the overprotective role in response.  "You learned to walk just fine," Wintergreen says dryly, walking over, "Alpha, our scouts have a report."

"Grant can take care of it," Slade says without looking up.  Damian is making grasping motions at the flower.

Grant groans but gets up.  "Can't believe I've been supplanted as the favorite child," he grumbles as he walks away.  Wintergreen goes with him, leaving only Slade, Dick, and Damian in the little meadow.

"Mama!" Damian waves at him.  Dick grins and waves back, laughing as Damian attempts to fight Slade's grip to get back to Dick.

Slade leads him back slowly, and his mouth is quirked in a small smile as Damian collapses on Dick's stomach.

"Mama, fo," Damian shows him the tiny fistful of petals and Dick kisses his little forehead.  Damian giggles, and Dick could never think he was Ra's' child like this.

Slade stiffens, straightening suddenly.

"Slade?" Dick calls out slowly, tightening his grip on Damian.

"Someone's here," Slade says evenly, staring at the trees and Dick hurriedly sits up, Damian curled in his lap.  He can't see anyone, but there's the faintest prickle on the back of his neck, like someone is watching them—

A dark blur drops out of the trees.

Dick scrambles up with Damian immediately, stepping back as Slade steps forward—and freezes when he recognizes the hard green eyes and the flash of white in dark hair.  "Jason?"

"You know him?" Slade asks tersely, which on anyone else would be a shout.  Jason's watching like he's ready for a fight.

Dick doesn't care about either of them.  That's his brother.  He's here.

"Jason!" Dick says again, happy and hopeful and desperately worried that this is just a dream, "Jaybird!"

Jason moves forward as Dick moves forward, but Slade steps in between.  Jason immediately growls, low and deep, and Dick snaps into alertness.

"Slade, no, he's my brother," Dick explains, a mollifying hand on the alpha's arm.  Damian is peering curiously from where he's perched on Dick's hip.

"Brother," Slade repeats, and it doesn't exactly sound happy, but he steps to the side and Dick runs at the first member of his pack he's seen in over a year.

Jason barely manages to catch them instead of letting them tumble over, and Dick goes from smiling to sobbing, clutching at his brother, tightening his grip on Damian, something in him unclenching at the familiar scent of pack, home, safe.

"Dickiebird," Jason says, voice hoarse and cracking, and Dick cries harder.

[aroaceleovaldez]

funniest answer for "what happened during Jason's fight with Krios" is, rather than Jason having a physical one-on-one unarmed fight with Krios, Jason just tears Krios a new one re: legislation by chewing him out for unauthorized activity in a state park. Because one of Jupiter's big aspects is law!

Jason sends the entirety of the Titan Army forces in California marching out of Mt. Tam State Park with their tails between their legs with one strongly worded argument and some threats to inform San Francisco Fish & Wildlife. And he gets made praetor for it.

[theagentace]

they were THE friend group

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

ayyy im back with another Unedited human au snippet <3 it's almost entirely dialogue oopsies <3

~

Eddie slows in putting his coat on - Barnaby isn’t sticking around to chat with fellow staff like usual. He’s in a rush, scrambling to grab his jacket and hurrying from behind the bar. He dashes through the door, looking like a man on a mission.

The door Mr. Frankly had just vanished through. 

Could he be…? No, Barnaby seems like a good man. But he had seemed a little pushy with Mr. Frankly, from what Eddie could tell. 

It couldn’t hurt to make sure.

Eddie frowns deeply as he goes outside, wincing slightly at the first burst of cold air after hours spent in a warm building. He’s just in time to see Barnaby jog up behind Frankly and close his car door before he can get in. Barnaby immediately leans against the door with his arms crossed, pinning it shut and blocking Frankly from the driver’s seat.

Eddie’s stomach plummets. Before he knows it, he’s speed-walking across the parking lot towards them, a fire burning in his chest and his hands curled into fists.

Frankly says something loud enough that Eddie can almost hear, his voice echoing in the empty lot. As Eddie watches, Barnaby pokes Frankly’s chest, making him stagger back a step.

“Hey!” Eddie barks. 

Both of them jump and whip around - Barnaby’s eyebrows shoot into his hair, while Frankly’s lowers into a flat line. 

“Eddie?” Barnaby says.

At the same time, Frankly says, “Mr. Dear?”

The two of them look at each other in surprise. Eddie pays the exchange no mind. He stops by Frankly, trying to slightly angle himself in front of him without making it too obvious.

“Is everything all right here?” he asks, looking Barnaby up and down. He really hopes this won’t come to blows - Eddie can throw a punch well enough, but Barnaby is an imposing figure. Eddie already knows he’d likely lose, but as long as he can buy Frankly a couple extra seconds…

“No, actually, everything is not fine,” Frankly says in a ticked-off - and strangely scolding - tone. 

Barnaby, not breaking eye-contact with Frankly, counters with, “Everything’s peachy, Ed.”

“You sure about that?” Eddie asks, trying to keep his tone amicable. 

“Scout’s honor.”

“Please,” Frankly scoffs, “you were never a boy scout. And that’s not the point - I am trying to get home!”

“You are trying to die in the most avoidable way possible.”

Eddie shoots Frankly a concerned look. “You’re what?”

“I am perfectly sober,” Frankly says.

Barnaby raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Your face is flushed.”

“It is not!”

Eddie winces. “It, uh, it is. A little.”

“It’s none of your business,” Frankly seethes. 

“Listen,” Barnaby sighs. He leans heavier against the car and rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t wanna be the one 'ta call Julie and deliver the news that her beloved Frankie went and got himself killed at the taco bell intersection.”

Frankly makes a high and derisive noise. “Excuse you, I have class. I’d die outside of Howdy’s.”

“Please, he’d turn your memorial into part of the gift shop. I can already see the signs - ‘dead friend sale, five percent off!’”

“I’m worth at least thirty percent.”

Eddie clears his throat and gestures between the two of them. “You two… know each other?”

“Unfortunately,” Frankly mutters.

Barnaby grins. “Aw, you’re just saying that. It’s okay - I know ya love me, Frankie. You don’t have to say it.”

“I do not.”

“I have evidence that proves otherwise.”

Frankly rolls his eyes. “You’re unbearable.”

“And yet…”

Eddie heaves a sigh - of relief or exhaustion, he’s not sure - and drags a hand over his face. “Alright. Good, I - good to know.”

“What, did’ja think I was attacking him?” After a moment of prolonged, awkward silence, Barnaby’s teasing smile drops. “Oh. You did.”

“Barnaby? Attack me?” Frankly snorts. “Give him some credit - he’s smarter than he looks.”

“Yeah, I’d have better chances taking on a pack’a hyenas!” Barnaby lets out a hearty cackle. “At least then we’d all get a laugh out of it!”

“So I misjudged the situation pretty terribly,” Eddie says, inching to the side to give Frankly his personal space back. “My apologies.”

“Don’t sweat it, Ed. I know Frank may look like a bundle of sticks, but he’s petrified wood all the way through! Pure stone, you know.” Barnaby grins and leans towards Eddie. He whispers conspiratorially, “‘Cept when it comes to holdin’ his liquor. Then he’s a total lightweight.”

“Barnaby,” Frankly hisses.

“Practically paper!”

“That’s enough, thank you!” Frankly makes an attempt at shoving Barnaby away from the car door, but Barnaby widens his stance. It’s like watching someone try to move a tree.

“See, this is how I know he shouldn’t be driving,” Barnaby says conversationally to Eddie. “If he were sober, I’d be the one drunk - punch-drunk, that is.”

Eddie isn’t sure whether or not he should laugh - was that a joke? Barnaby seems fond of them, but… surely Frankly isn’t a violent person. Frankly lets out a growl of frustration and clumsily tries to bodyslam Barnaby. Eddie inches back a step.

“Alright Frankie, you had your fun.” Barnaby scruffs Frankly like a misbehaving cat and holds him at arm's length. He holds out a hand. “C’mon. Keys.”

“Never.”

“Have it your way. I’ll go ahead and call Poppy, tell her that you’ve forgotten the many dangers of-”

“Oh, fine,” Frankly spits. He yanks his keys out of his pocket and slaps them into Barnaby’s waiting hand. 

Barnaby flicks the keys as Frankly stalks to the passenger side door and yanks it open. “Choose a place for dinner, we’ll swing by and pick it up - my treat.”

“Obviously your treat,” Frankly grumbles. “As if I’d-”

The slam of his door cuts off whatever he says next, though Eddie can see him still talking in the car. His phone screen illuminates his irritated expression as he - presumably - looks up places for takeout. 

“Well, I’m glad you were here to stop him from doin’ somethin’ everyone would regret,” Eddie says. “Mr. Frankly-” 

“Mr. Frankly?” Barnaby snorts. “You’re not one of his students, are ya?”

“I’m just bein’ polite. He set the tone by referrin’ to me by Mr. Dear, so I’m tryin’ to respect that line in the sand.”

Barnaby shakes his head, grinning. “Just call him Frank. He puts up a big show of bein' a grouch, but he’s really a big softie. Though don’t - don’t try to pick a fight with him. Ever. You’ll lose.”

“Wasn’t plannin' on it.” Eddie makes a mental note to keep calling him Mr. Frankly, just to be on the safe side. It’s not like they’re friends, anyway. More like… acquaintances. Occasional Run-Into-Each-Other strangers. 

[madamevandeleur]

Me when books and animal associations

[gerrycoco]

Me to me: you know, we don't have to make gifs every time Shipwrecked Comedy uploads something new

Me: ...

Me: besides we have a lot to do today, we really don't have the time to be doing this right now

Me: ...

Me: okay fine... just one (for now)

I couldn't help my self I laughed so friggin hard

*also if anyone has a moment from the DnD videos they'd like gifed I'd be happy to do so just hit me up

[gendrie]

Sansa backed away from the window, retreating toward the safety of her bed. I'll go to sleep, she told herself, and when I wake it will be a new day, and the sky will be blue again. The fighting will be done and someone will tell me whether I'm to live or die. "Lady," she whimpered softly, wondering if she would meet her wolf again when she was dead. (Sansa, ACOK) That night she lay in her narrow bed upon the scratchy straw, listening to the voices of the living and the dead whisper and argue as she waited for the moon to rise. They were the only voices she trusted anymore. She could hear the sound of her own breath, and the wolves as well, a great pack of them now. They are closer than the one I heard in the godswood, she thought. They are calling to me. (Arya, ACOK)

i like the contrast here. arya and sansa are both trapped; in the red keep and harrenhal respectively.

the former is under active siege and sansa thinks she might die if the castle falls. cersei promised as much. sansa decides to retreat to her bed (where a drunken man with ptsd is waiting) and wait to see what happens. she does not feel in control of her fate; passively thinking she will simply be told if she is to live or die. her last thought here is of her dead wolf. sansa no longer has the warg connection that her siblings maintain with their wolves and you feel that loss in this moment.

esp compared to arya who is separated from her wolf but the connection btween them is only growing stronger. as arya lays in her bed she contemplates her next move. this castle has already fallen and arya survived, but the threat of violence is closing in all around her. this is the moment where arya decides to escape. she has no other choice if she wants to live. in the godswood, her warg abilities surged powerfully and the old gods remind arya of who she is and where she belongs. the wolves howling from outside the castle walls are nymeria's and they strengthen arya's resolve. if she can get out of the castle she will be one step closer to where she belongs: with the wolves.

[crazycriter]

treech and lamina are an everlark parallel

[visenyaism]

jaheira being 27 months late on her child support payments is kinda doing it for me tbh. who said that

[lesbiradshaw]

& who asked you two to stand so close???