#Phase one and two of Tim's plans failed

[flamingpudding]

Drake's family secret #2

Previous Part

Tim was prepared, he had done as much research / digging as he could squeeze in between meetings, even going so far as rescheduling some of them to get more time until the tour guide would lead the high school students to his office.

Some things he had found were worrying even to the point of wanting to just take Danny and move him permanently to Gotham. Even if he knew that Gotham wasn't the safest city either. He had seen the other boy's interest in the aerospace department through the cameras, but with his digging he had found that Danny had been on a fast track for a Junior Space Program with the grades to support it.

Diggin that information up had made Tim proud, thinking that if there was something good about the Drake family it was that both Danny and him appear to have a very good set of brain cells. Though that proud feeling didn't last long when he dug further.

Because then an accident happened to him, leaving him with his last medical record stating a heart condition. After that there were no more dated medical records. In addition the timing of the accident lined up with when Danny's grades pummeled. He went from a A student to a C student in the month following the accident. Not only that but it also appeared that he racked up quite the number of teacher complaints to which he then got labeled as a delinquent student in his files.

Tim had narrowed his eyes at the screen as he lined up the timeline, with some additional information he had found about Amity Park. That information had not been easy to dig up, he had rescheduled at least two meetings so he could work uninterrupted on the strange firewalls that were protecting it, and even then he only got a handful of newspaper clips out of it. But that had been enough, for now.

Because Danny Fenton's accident and declining grades lined up with the appearance of a ghost menace hero Invis-o-Bill. A coincidence? Definitely not. Looked like hero-ing wasn't just a Wayne family thing.

Either way Tim had dug up a lot in a short amount of time about his possible brother. He was still missing a lot of puzzle pieces but he figured he could probably get that information once he made a successful first contact with Danny.

Which was about to happen in a little more than 5 minutes.

His eyes flicked to the door, then to the live security camera feet on his laptop. Yep they were right outside his door. Taking a deep breath and closing his laptop Tim moved to lean on his desk from the front, facing the door.

His plan was easy. give the kids a little motivational speech, spout some inspiring nonsense of 'you too can achieve great things' before dismissing cheerfully but hold Danny back, because his last name was Fenton and Tim 'recognised' it from a list of potential scientist to investment. Have a successful talk and show some interest in the - weird he actually didn't want to touch on but probably will have to consider because Danny had an accident that gave him meta powers that made him decide to go out as meta hero - stuff Danny's foster parents were researching. Ruffle his hair and subtitle pluck one of his hairs in that motion.

For a first DNA test that would be enough. Even if blood or spit would definitely be better, since he had no guarantee to also get the hair root if he just plucked one.

When the knock on his door resounded he cheerfully told them to come in and started phase one of his grand first contact plan. If anyone asked him what he told the students afterwards, he probably wouldn't be able to recount anything he told them as 'motivational speech'. He did his best though to not let his eyes constantly wander over towards the boy.

He took a little satisfaction in the fact that one of the two close friends his possible brother had appeared to be starry eyed at the fact that they got to meet him. That definitely would come in handy later on.

When some of the students started to look rather bored with their attention wandering, Tim thought that this was probably the best timing to enter phase two. Dismissing them with some scripted farewell words, he waited a little. As he expected Danny and his two friends lacked behind when the students left his office.

He cleared his throat, catching their attention. "Mr. Fenton?"

Danny looked at him wide eyed as he turned around to stare at him and Tim internally laughed. "Your parents are on our list of Scientists for possible investment. If you have the time, would it be possible to have a little chat right now?"

He noted how Danny exchanged a look with his friends and the girl among them instantly started to glare at him suspiciously as Danny's seemed to narrow. He cleared his throat once more. "I will ensure that you will get safely back to the hotel your school is staying at. I just think this would be the perfect chance to learn a bit more about ecto-science? That was what they called it, right?"

Okay, plan was not going as hoped as Danny was now full on glaring, not as heated as the girl but still glaring. His other friends had now also lost the starry eyed look in his eyes and was watching him with clear suspicion.

Damage control, damage control! Stop sounding so formal! His mind screamed as Tim once more cleared his throat nervously. "If now is inconvenient, maybe we could meet for a coffee later? I really am hoping to learn a bit more than what's written in stuffy reports."

"We got some free exploring time tomorrow afternoon. It's Tim Drake! We could at least hear him out." One of his friends stage whispered to Danny who continued to watch him with narrowed, glaring eyes.

"Tucker, no." Danny whispered back before addressing Tim. "Sorry, I have no interest in my parents work."

Before Tim could say anything else Danny dragged his friends out of his office to catch up with the other students. Leaving Tim stunned before he dragged a hand down his face. So much for phase two of his first contact plan.

"Okay noted, his parents' research is not the best way to open up contact." Tim muttered before walking around his desk and opening his laptop again. He needed to readjust his plans. Luckily one of Danny's friends, Tucker, gave him some valuable information.

Maybe he could convince Steph or Duke to go to the mall with him to make it appear more natural. Dick could also be an option, he was in town at the moment. But either way that would also risk further questions, when he 'coincidentally' ran into Danny Fenton. He didn't think reasoning with Dick about some good old brotherly bonds would distract his eldest brother long enough.

Maybe it was about time to get at least one of his siblings in on the Drake's family secret.

Or not depending, he could also check their exploring route via the city cameras and then just go coincidentally into the same coffee or food place Danny and his friends happened to go to.

Yeah that sounded better than getting his siblings involved already.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Dead No Brain

The reason I love Tim/Danny so much is because these two highly intelligent yet absolutely deranged at times individuals do not question each other. You know the phrase, "I say 'jump' and you say 'how high'"? It's that, but they don't even ask 'how high'.

Tim, 28 hours no-sleep, crazy eyed, breaks into Danny's dorm through the window at unholy five in the morning, all up in his Red Robin gear and with blood on his face, and asks Danny to come with him because he needs to test if a human can, in fact, walk with one leg cut off up to his ankle and the other one stuck in a bear trap? Yeah, okay, Danny can manipulate his body shape in ghost form and phase on a bear trap. "You owe me a coffee for waking me up," and they are on the way to the crime scene.

Danny shows up to the manor unannounced with no prior introduction to the Batfam, leaves a homemade albeit a bit green-tinted apple pie for Alfred in the kitchen, and strolls straight down to the BatCave to bother Tim with a burning question of 'what if I duplicate myself, impersonate Joker, and spend a week ruining his mad clown reputation by throwing group mime performances in broad daylight'? Sure, Tim already has a compilation of funny fails he wants Danny to do while he's at it. Do you mind questioning a ghost of the latest murder victim on the way?

And they see zero problems with it. That's what relationships are for, Dick, shouldn't you of all people know you need to trust your partner?

Jason/Danny comes as a close second in this department, but I feel like Jason has more of a 'fuck it, I'm in' kind of vibe. Is he up for any kind of shit his partner comes up with? Sure. Unless he thinks it will do more harm than good to his partner specifically. Does he come up with a detailed plan to screw DalvCo in every way possible from reporting its Instagram account as scam to rearranging all the furniture in Vlad's mansion by gluing it to the ceiling? I don't think so.

Tim/Danny is the power couple in my mind.

Only the 'power' in question is often vaguely threatening for the sanity of everyone in close range.

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

but after your danny phantom post, wb!reader dating danny phantom?? image the batfamily reaction to this wack ass teenager

LOVE THIS IDEA!!!

So, at first, the reader and Danny's relationship was like, "Get the fuck away from me, loser!" and "They're so amazing!" The reader hated Danny so much; they were low-key jealous of him because of how the Batfam greeted him with open arms whenever he came around to the manor or the cave, while they received nothing. Yeah, nah, Danny is now an opp—anytime he's around, you turn the other way. You lock yourself in your room or remain completely quiet when he tries to talk to you, doing everything to make him uncomfortable and push him away. What’s on Danny’s mind when you do this stuff? “Oh, Trucker, they're just too shy! I mean, they sprint up to their room whenever I come around!” he says with literal hearts in his eyes and little hearts floating around him. “Sounds like they hate you?” “No, last time they made full eye contact with me at the dinner table, but they were staring pretty hard.” Trucker face-palms himself so hard it leaves a permanent hand mark on his forehead. Danny is swooning over you while you're planning his demise—even when he's in his ghost form, you’re not impressed. He reveals his secret identity within days, not hiding it from you because, for you both to have a strong relationship, you have to tell each other the truth. But you guys aren't even DATING! He’s so goddamn delusional, yet he wins you over. He’s talking your ear off at a gala, and you finally falter just a little. I mean, he’s kinda cute, and he’s a total dork and a loser, and that’s low-key your type. So you give him a chance, and you both become a power couple, but you still never tell him that you used to own a target board with his face on it, where you would throw everything from pencils to ballpoint pens to scissors, always aiming for his head—but he’ll never know. That one time the two of you were kissing, he accidentally phased through you, ruining the whole mood for him because you couldn’t stop laughing. The poor guy was trying to be romantic, and if the Batfam finds out, it’ll be like Gumball trying to take Penny on a date. Bruce will slam the door on Danny, saying he’s too reckless and brash, but he praised him before both of you started dating. Jason tells you the relationship will fail because he’s barely around, but that’s the same with the whole family. Dick loves Danny, but dating his baby sibling? He’s going to find a Ouija board and seal him in there for a while. Tim, Damian, and Duke are yelling, “YOU CAN DO BETTER!” But you’re literally in love with a boy you used to hate with every fiber of your being.

WB!reader: I used to hate the hell out of you yeah know...

*Danny lifts his head from your chest quickly, his whole body jolting as he looks down at you.*

Danny: What, when?

*WB!reader laughs nervously*

Danny:[Name]!!!

[satansdarlin]

The Valentine dilemma

Tim Drake x nb!reader

Rating: T

Word count: 10k

Warnings: none

Notes: the reader in this is implied to be autistic but it's never stated! Enjoy some soft loving valentines day shenanigans!! <3 comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

Tim was at a loss. The Timothy Drake, boy genius, youngest CEO in the country—a man who could solve complex corporate mergers over breakfast and decode encrypted files in his sleep—was completely, utterly at a loss. Because of you.

He sat in his office, the Gotham skyline a gray backdrop behind him, tapping his fingers against his mahogany desk in an erratic rhythm that would have driven his secretary mad if she'd been present. The blue light of his multiple monitors cast shadows across his face as he frowned at his calendar, the approaching February 14th seeming to mock him with its cheerful red highlight.

Timothy had partners before—many partners, if he was being honest. More than he cared to admit. He'd gone through what Dick fondly called his "wild phase" in his early twenties, a time when he was trying to find himself between the weight of Wayne Enterprises and his nighttime activities. All of those partners had made this particular holiday easy. Almost formulaic, really.

What was the problem exactly? Valentine's Day. In the past, the equation had been simple: expensive chocolates (usually Godiva) + roses (red, always red) + reservation at whatever restaurant had earned the latest Michelin star + intimate evening = successful Valentine's Day. It was a proven formula, tested and refined over years of dating experience.

You, however, were proving to be an anomaly in his carefully calculated world. The conversation had started innocently enough, on a quiet Sunday afternoon in your shared apartment.

"What do you wanna do for Valentine's?" Tim asked, not looking up from his computer screen where he was reviewing quarterly projections. His fingers flew across the keyboard as he spoke, multitasking as always. "I just wanna know so I can make reservations."

You were sprawled on the floor of his home office, surrounded by puzzle pieces—one of those impossibly difficult ones with a thousand pieces of just sky and clouds. The sight of you there, completely at ease in his space, made something warm settle in his chest, even as your response made him freeze.

"I didn't have anything planned," you hummed back, squinting at two nearly identical pieces before fitting one perfectly into place. "I figured we weren't doing anything."

That made him frown, his fingers stilling on the keyboard. He swiveled his chair to face you properly, brow furrowed. "Why wouldn't we do anything?"

You looked up at him then, and he was struck, as he often was, by how your analytical mind matched his own—except in moments like these, when it drove him slightly mad.

"It's a commercial holiday celebrating love on a day where hundreds of people have been historically killed," you mused, turning another puzzle piece in your hands. "The commercialization of romance is fascinating from a sociological perspective, but ultimately meaningless. Plus," you added, offering him that small, sincere smile that never failed to make his heart skip, "it's not like I need a day to prove you love me, Timothy. It's not necessary for us to celebrate."

You see what he was dealing with here?

Usually, your blunt and analytical view on things was refreshing—comforting, even. It was one of the things that had drawn him to you in the first place. You could match him theory for theory, debate for debate. You understood his need for logic and reason, never demanded he be more emotional than he was capable of being.

Except when it came to holidays.

Christmas? You'd gotten him an incredibly thoughtful gift last year—a rare first edition of his favorite scientific journal—but when he'd asked what you wanted, you'd just shrugged and said his presence was enough. He'd ended up buying you three different presents just to be safe.

Halloween? You didn't dress up, claiming the modern interpretation of the holiday had strayed too far from its historical roots to be meaningful. Instead, you just put out a bowl of candy outside the apartment door with a neat sign asking trick-or-treaters to take one piece each (they never did).

But Valentine's Day? You didn't even want to celebrate Valentine's Day?

Tim ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up in frustration. He needed backup. This required a tactical approach, possibly a flowchart, and definitely advice from someone who understood the complexity of dating a person who viewed holidays through an anthropological lens rather than an emotional one.

He pulled out his phone, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as he debated who to text. Dick would just tell him to be romantic. Jason would laugh at him. Bruce... no, definitely not Bruce. Maybe Barbara? She'd always been good at finding logical solutions to emotional problems.

As he contemplated his options, you continued with your puzzle, completely unaware of the crisis you'd sparked in your boyfriend's overactive mind. The worst part was, he knew you meant every word. You truly didn't need grand gestures or commercial holidays to feel loved. But Tim Drake had never backed down from a challenge, and he wasn't about to start now.

He just needed to figure out how to make Valentine's Day meaningful to someone who could quote mortality statistics from the St. Valentine's Day Massacre while assembling a puzzle of the Sistine Chapel ceiling.

Tim slipped out of his home office, mumbling something about needing to make a call. A little white lie never hurt anyone, especially when he was trying to crack the code of making his analytically-minded lover appreciate a day dedicated to romance. Once safely in the hallway, he pulled out his phone, took a steadying breath, and dialed a number he probably should have called sooner. Your best friend would know what to do—assuming she didn't roast him mercilessly first.

The line rang twice before Tay picked up. "Hey Timber, whatcha need?"

Tim winced at the nickname but pressed on. "Do you have any clue what (Y/N) would enjoy on Valentine's Day?"

The silence that followed was so complete, Tim pulled the phone away from his ear to check if the call had dropped. It hadn't.

"Oh boy." Tay's voice was loaded with meaning, none of it encouraging. "Listen, Tim. They aren't exactly... huge on holidays, which I'm sure you know by now. But Valentine's Day? That's probably the one they care about the least."

"I'm aware of that now, Tay," Tim replied, trying not to let his frustration seep into his voice. He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes.

"Alright, alright, don't get pissy now." There was rustling on the other end of the line, followed by what sounded like papers being shuffled. "Give me a moment." More shuffling. "Well... you could go the nuclear option."

"I'm willing." Tim's voice dropped to an almost vulnerable softness, one that made Tay pause in her paper shuffling. It was the voice of a man who had faced down Gotham's worst villains with less trepidation than he felt about potentially disappointing his partner on Valentine's Day.

"You really care about this, don't you?" Tay's tone softened. "Okay, here's what you need to know about (Y/N)..."

And that's how Tim found himself, three days before Valentine's Day, transforming the entire route from your apartment to his safe house, all the way back to Wayne Manor, into an elaborate puzzle. He'd scattered clues throughout the city—some of which he'd actually workshopped a few nights ago while apprehending the Riddler (he was a multitasker, and hey, if you couldn't test your Valentine's Day riddles on an actual riddle-obsessed villain, when could you?).

He was a good boyfriend, damn it. If you wouldn't celebrate a commercial holiday about love, then he'd turn it into something you couldn't resist: an intellectual challenge. Each clue was a carefully crafted combination of historical facts, mathematical equations, and obscure references that would make your analytical mind light up with interest. The final destination? Well, that was the real surprise.

Tim stood in the Manor's library, surveying his handiwork with the same intensity he usually reserved for crime scene analysis. The room had been transformed into what he hoped was the perfect blend of romance and intellectual stimulation. Books on the history of Valentine's Day across different cultures were strategically placed alongside ancient texts about love and partnership. He'd even managed to track down original documents about the St. Valentine's Day Massacre—because nothing said "I love you" quite like historical artifacts about the very tragedy you'd cited as a reason not to celebrate.

Now he just had to hope that turning Valentine's Day into the world's most romantic scavenger hunt would work. Because if it didn't, he was completely out of ideas—and he really didn't want to have to call Tay back for a Plan B.

.

.

.

Valentine's Day arrived crisp and clear, the kind of winter morning where Gotham almost looked clean in the pale sunlight. You were juggling a bag of groceries as you approached the penthouse door, trying to fish your keys out of your pocket without dropping anything. Tim had seemed so deflated when you'd dismissed Valentine's Day, and while you still stood by your position on commercial holidays, you couldn't quite shake the image of his disappointed face from your mind. So you'd decided to compromise—not because it was Valentine's Day, but because you loved him. You were going to surprise him with his favorite meal when he got back from whatever mysterious errand had called him away this morning.

The door swung open, and you nearly dropped your groceries.

Sitting on the kitchen counter, perfectly positioned to catch your eye the moment you walked in, was a pristine white rabbit plush toy. It was propped up against your hardback copy of "Alice in Wonderland"—the antique edition Tim had given you for your birthday, appreciating both your love of literature and historical artifacts. The rabbit held a cream-colored note in its paws, the paper looking suspiciously like the expensive stationery Tim kept in his home office.

You set the groceries down slowly, your analytical mind already whirring to life. The white rabbit was an obvious reference to "Alice in Wonderland," but Tim never did anything without multiple layers of meaning. Was this a literary reference? A historical one? Both?

Your fingers brushed against the note as you picked it up, the paper thick and textured. The handwriting was unmistakably Tim's—precise and measured, even when he was trying to be whimsical:

"'Begin at the beginning,' the King said, very gravely, 'and go on till you come to the end: then stop.' But where is the beginning? Perhaps where time never moves forward... Follow the white rabbit, if you dare. But remember—you're already late for a very important date."

A smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. The reference was obvious enough—the quote from "Alice in Wonderland" paired with the white rabbit. But the clue about time never moving forward? That was pure Tim, giving you something to actually puzzle over. Your eyes narrowed as you considered the possibilities, your dinner plans temporarily forgotten in favor of this new intellectual challenge.

Time never moving forward... A clock that's stuck? Too obvious for Tim. Your gaze swept the penthouse, taking in the familiar space with new eyes. That's when it hit you—the antique grandfather clock Tim had insisted on installing in your shared study. The one that hadn't worked since you moved in, its hands permanently frozen at 3:47.

You made your way to the study, the white rabbit clutched in one hand (because somehow you knew you'd need it later). The study was exactly as you'd left it that morning—or almost exactly. The morning sun streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows caught on something that definitely hadn't been there before: a delicate teacup perched precariously on top of the grandfather clock.

"Curiouser and curiouser," you muttered, a smile playing at your lips as you reached for the cup. It was fine bone china, decorated with intricate clockwork patterns in gold leaf. Inside, another note was folded into an origami rabbit (and you couldn't help but wonder how long it had taken Tim to learn that particular skill).

You carefully unfolded it, appreciating the precise creases that had formed the rabbit shape. This note was written in a spiral pattern, forcing you to turn the paper as you read:

"What runs but never walks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth but never talks, has a head but never weeps? In Gotham's heart, where time flows ever forward unlike our frozen friend here, seek the next white rabbit where the answer meets the stars."

A river. The riddle's answer was a river, and given the mention of stars... You glanced at the clock again, 3:47. Then at the teacup with its clockwork patterns, and finally at the white rabbit in your hand. A slow grin spread across your face as the pieces clicked into place.

The River's Edge Observatory. It had been one of your first dates with Tim—he'd taken you stargazing there at exactly 3:47 AM, claiming it was the perfect time to see a particular constellation. The observatory sat right on the bank of the Gotham River, and it housed an impressive collection of antique timepieces in addition to its telescopes.

"Well played, Timothy," you murmured, already reaching for your coat. The grocery bag in the kitchen was completely forgotten now—your analytical mind was fully engaged in the puzzle before you, and you had to admit, if only to yourself, that Tim had found perhaps the one way to make Valentine's Day intriguing.

The River's Edge Observatory stood proud against the winter sky, its glass dome reflecting the afternoon sun. As you approached, you couldn't help but remember that first date—how Tim had seemed so nervous until you'd started discussing the mathematical precision required for astronomical calculations, and then he'd lit up like the stars you were watching.

The security guard at the entrance—who looked suspiciously like one of Bruce's more trusted employees—simply nodded and waved you through with a knowing smile. Inside, your footsteps echoed against the marble floors as you made your way to the antique timepiece exhibition. The collection was housed in the west wing, where the afternoon sun created dancing patterns through the carefully preserved clockwork mechanisms.

You found what you were looking for in front of the observatory's prized possession: a 17th-century astronomical clock that tracked not just time, but the movement of celestial bodies. There, seated on the display case, was another white rabbit—this one made of clockwork parts, its gears visible through a transparent casing. In its mechanical paws was a star chart, clearly torn from an antique book (and knowing Tim, it was probably a replica—he respected historical artifacts too much to damage a real one).

The chart showed a constellation you didn't immediately recognize, which was unusual. You squinted at it, then noticed the subtle alterations. Tim had modified the star chart, connecting different stars to create... was that a tea pot? The constellation had been redrawn to show the outline of a Victorian tea service, complete with cups and saucers.

Turning the chart over, you found your next clue written in Tim's precise hand:

"Time for tea? Not quite yet. But where does a detective go when they need to think? When the streets are quiet and the crowds are gone, there's a place where leaves float on midnight thoughts and mysteries steep in porcelain dreams. Find me where we first shared a cup of something stronger than tea, and watch your step—the next rabbit might be mad as a hatter."

You couldn't help but laugh. The Midnight Steep—a twenty-four hour tea shop in the old district that doubled as a coffee house by day. It was where you and Tim had first met outside of his official Wayne Enterprises duties. You'd been there at an ungodly hour, running on coffee and determination while working on your thesis. He'd been there avoiding sleep after a particularly rough patrol (though you hadn't known that part at the time). You'd ended up sharing a pot of their strongest coffee blend and debating the historical accuracy of detective novels until sunrise.

"Going for the sentimental angle, are we?" you mused aloud, tucking both the clockwork rabbit and the star chart into your bag. The sun was starting to set now, painting Gotham in shades of amber and rose. Whatever Tim was planning, he'd clearly put more thought into this than any simple dinner reservation.

As you headed for the exit, you found yourself actually looking forward to what came next—not because it was Valentine's Day, but because Tim had managed to transform a commercial holiday into an intellectual treasure hunt through your shared history. It was exactly the kind of thoughtful, complex gesture that made you fall in love with him in the first place.

The Midnight Steep looked exactly as it had the night you'd met Tim—a narrow Victorian townhouse wedged between two modern buildings, its windows glowing with warm light that spilled onto the darkening street. The brass bell above the door chimed softly as you entered, and the familiar scent of coffee and tea leaves enveloped you.

The owner, Mrs. Chen, looked up from behind the counter and smiled knowingly. "Back corner table," she said before you could ask, her eyes twinkling. "The one where you two first argued about Sherlock Holmes for three hours."

You made your way through the maze of mismatched furniture, each piece carefully chosen from different historical periods—something that had fascinated you during that first conversation with Tim. The back corner table was your favorite, tucked into a cozy alcove beneath a stained glass window. Tonight, it held a complete Victorian tea service, steam rising gently from the pot.

And there, in your usual seat, was another white rabbit. This one was crafted entirely of tea leaves and coffee beans, preserved somehow to hold its shape. It was holding what looked like a small leather-bound journal, the kind detectives used in the noir films you and Tim sometimes watched together.

Opening the journal, you found pages of what appeared to be random notes about various cases—all written in Tim's handwriting, but in different colored inks. Some words were circled, others underlined, and some had been crossed out entirely. It looked like genuine case notes, except... you noticed a pattern in the circled words.

You pulled a pen from your bag and began writing down each circled word in order:

"When shadows fall and heroes rise,

Where masks hide truth and secrets lie,

Seek the place where darkness meets

The highest point above these streets.

Where first you learned my other life,

Where trust was given sharp as knife.

The rabbit waits in shadows deep,

Where gargoyles their eternal watch do keep."

Your breath caught slightly. You knew exactly where this one led—the rooftop of the old Gothic Revival bank building, forty stories above the streets of Gotham. It was where Tim had first revealed his identity as Red Robin to you, after you'd figured out most of it yourself and confronted him with your evidence. He'd been impressed with your deductive reasoning, and instead of denying it, he'd taken you to that rooftop and shown you his world.

You glanced at your watch—the sun had fully set now, and Gotham's lights were starting to twinkle to life. Time to see what other memories Tim had woven into this elaborate puzzle.

As you stood to leave, Mrs. Chen appeared with a to-go cup of your usual order. "He said you might need the caffeine," she explained with a smile. "That boy thinks of everything, doesn't he?"

"He certainly tries," you agreed, accepting the cup gratefully. You carefully packed the tea-leaf rabbit and the journal into your bag alongside the others. Each rabbit was different, each clue more personal than the last. Despite your usual stance on Valentine's Day, you had to admit—Tim was making it very hard to maintain your academic disapproval of the holiday.

The old Gothic Revival bank building was a masterpiece of architecture, its gargoyles casting long shadows in the moonlight. You made your way to the roof access door—which, unsurprisingly, was already unlocked. Tim had clearly planned every detail. The winter wind whipped around you as you emerged onto the rooftop, carrying with it memories of that first night: the mix of fear and exhilaration as Tim showed you his world, the way your entire understanding of him had shifted and deepened in those moments.

The rooftop looked different in the peaceful night air than it had during that adrenaline-filled revelation. String lights had been carefully strung between the gargoyles, creating a soft glow that didn't interfere with the view of Gotham's skyline. And there, perched on the very same ledge where Tim had first removed his mask, sat another white rabbit.

This one was made of metal—but not just any metal. As you picked it up, you recognized the distinctive material: a piece of one of Tim's old bo staffs, carefully crafted into the shape of a rabbit. In its paws was a small USB drive designed to look like a domino mask.

You pulled out your tablet (because of course Tim knew you always carried it), and plugged in the drive. A single video file popped up, timestamped from three nights ago. When you pressed play, you had to stifle a laugh—it was surveillance footage from the Riddler's latest capture, but with audio included. You could hear Tim's voice, slightly distorted through his mask, workshopping Valentine's Day riddles while he fought.

"How's this one?" sound of a punch landing "Where memories are stored in paper and ink," dodge "Where knowledge flows as free as drink," sweep kick "Where first we met, though strangers then," grappling hook shot "Find your next clue with books as your friend."

Even Riddler had paused in their fight to critique his rhyming scheme.

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. The answer was obvious enough—the university library where you'd first met Tim during a Wayne Enterprises tech demonstration. You'd been the graduate student chosen to present your department's research, and he'd been the young CEO everyone underestimated. You'd ended up in a heated debate about the ethical implications of artificial intelligence that had run so long they'd had to reschedule the rest of the demonstrations.

"Only you would use a fight with Riddler to practice Valentine's Day clues," you murmured, tucking the metal rabbit carefully into your bag with the others. The library was only a few blocks away, and you had a feeling this elaborate trail was nearing its end.

As you made your way back to the roof access door, you paused to look out over the city. The string lights reflected off the gargoyles, making their fierce faces seem almost festive. For someone who claimed to be opposed to Valentine's Day, you were surprisingly eager to see what came next.

The trail Tim left wound through the city like a string of memories: from the university library (where you found a rabbit made of pressed book pages, holding a card catalog entry that led you to the museum), to the Gotham Museum of History (where a rabbit carved from an "authentic" Egyptian artifact—knowing Tim, a perfect replica—directed you to the park), to Robinson Park (where a rabbit made of preserved flowers pointed you toward Wayne Manor).

Each location held significance, each clue more elaborate than the last, until finally you found yourself walking the winding path through Wayne Manor's extensive gardens. The winter air had grown crisp, but strings of lights wound through the bare branches of the trees, creating a canopy of stars beneath the real ones. The path was lined with lanterns, their warm glow leading you deeper into the garden.

You turned a corner and stopped, a small laugh escaping your lips.

There, in the center of the garden, was a scene pulled straight from the pages of "Alice in Wonderland"—but with a distinctly Tim Drake twist. A long table had been set up to mirror the Mad Hatter's tea party illustration from your antique edition, complete with mismatched chairs of various sizes and styles. Dozens of teacups and saucers of different patterns were arranged along its length, some stacked precariously high, others laid out with scientific precision. Steam rose from various teapots, and platters of small sandwiches and pastries filled the spaces between.

Fairy lights were strung above in chaotic patterns that, you suddenly realized, mapped out actual constellations. Historical artifacts related to timekeeping—clearly on loan from the Wayne collection—were artfully arranged among the tea settings. Each place setting had a different book beside it, all first editions of various detective novels and scientific texts you'd discussed with Tim over the years.

And there, at the head of the table, sat Tim himself. He'd dressed for the part in a slightly modern take on Victorian formal wear, complete with a top hat that sat slightly askew on his dark hair. When he saw you, his face lit up with that particular smile he reserved just for you—the one that made him look younger, unburdened by the weight of his various responsibilities.

"You're late for tea," he called out, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "But then again, I suppose we're all mad here."

You approached the table slowly, taking in every detail. Each rabbit you'd collected throughout the day had a place at the table, arranged chronologically to tell the story of your relationship. The white plush rabbit that had started it all sat in the chair to Tim's right—your usual spot whenever you dined at the manor.

"This is ridiculous," you said, but you couldn't keep the fondness from your voice. "You went through all this trouble just because I said I didn't want to celebrate Valentine's Day?"

Tim stood, moving around the table to pull out your chair. "Actually, I went through all this trouble because you said Valentine's Day was just a commercial holiday for proving love." He grinned. "So I decided to make it a historical, literary, and intellectual holiday instead. Complete with primary sources, mathematical precision in the constellation mapping, and several riddles that I'm pretty sure even Riddler would approve of."

As you sat down, taking in the elaborate setup that somehow managed to combine every aspect of your shared interests and history, you had to admit defeat. "Well played, Timothy," you conceded, watching as he poured tea from an antique pot. "Though I hope you realize this sets a rather high bar for any future holidays."

"Challenge accepted," he replied without missing a beat, and you could already see the gears turning in his mind. "Though I should warn you—I've already started planning for your birthday. How do you feel about a mystery dinner party based on unsolved historical cases?"

You laughed, reaching for his hand across the table. "Only you would turn my dislike of commercial holidays into an excuse for elaborate intellectual puzzles."

"Is it working?" he asked, and beneath the playful tone was a hint of genuine curiosity.

You looked around at the magical setting he'd created, at all the thoughtful details that spoke not just of love but of deep understanding. "Yes," you admitted. "Though don't expect me to start celebrating Groundhog Day anytime soon."

"Don't worry," Tim's eyes sparkled with mischief. "I already have plans for that involving quantum physics and weather pattern analysis."

You groaned, but squeezed his hand affectionately. Perhaps some holidays weren't so bad after all—especially when they were celebrated in such a distinctly Tim Drake fashion.

As the evening wore on, you shared stories over tea and finger sandwiches, Tim explaining the process behind each rabbit's creation ("Do you know how hard it is to preserve tea leaves in that shape? I had to consult three different botanical experts!") and you teasing him about using actual supervillain encounters as planning sessions ("I still can't believe you made Riddler critique your rhyme scheme").

The fairy lights twinkled overhead, their constellation patterns creating a map of significant moments in your relationship. Tim had thought of everything—even the tea selections told a story, from the strong coffee blend you'd shared on that first late night to the exotic varieties you'd discovered together over the years.

But you had one more surprise up your sleeve.

"Speaking of ridiculous planning," you said casually, reaching into your pocket and pulling out a small flash drive. It was matte black, unmarked except for a tiny red robin etched into its surface.

Tim paused mid-sip, his eyes narrowing slightly at the device. "What's this?" He set his cup down and took the drive, turning it over in his hands with the careful attention he gave to all potential puzzles.

"You didn't seriously think I was going to just settle for second place in a holiday, did you?" You couldn't help but smirk. "Tay is a blabbermouth. You should know this by now. The moment she told me about your call, I knew I had to step up my game."

His eyes lit up with that particular spark that appeared whenever he encountered a new challenge. "Boot it up on your laptop," you suggested, trying not to look too pleased with yourself.

The two of you made your way into the Manor, leaving the magical garden setup behind. The halls were quiet—you suspected Alfred had ensured you'd have privacy for this elaborate Valentine's celebration. Tim led you to his study, a room that somehow managed to be both immaculately organized and completely chaotic, much like Tim's mind itself.

He settled into his chair, pulling his laptop from a drawer, and you positioned yourself behind him, resting your chin on top of his perpetually messy black hair. The familiar scent of his shampoo mixed with coffee and winter air wrapped around you as you watched him insert the drive.

Tim's fingers flew across the keyboard as he accessed the drive's contents, then stopped abruptly. His whole body went still in that way it did when his full attention had been captured by something particularly intriguing. On the screen before him were twelve heavily encrypted files, each one protected by a different type of encryption—some of which he recognized, others that appeared to be entirely custom.

"Your favorite," you murmured into his hair, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "An actual challenge. Each file is encrypted with a different method, and each one contains a piece of a larger puzzle. Some of the encryption keys are based on our shared history, others will require actual detective work." You paused, unable to resist adding, "I may have consulted with Oracle on a few of them, just to make sure they were up to your standards."

Tim leaned back in his chair, tilting his head to look up at you with a mixture of surprise and delight. "You created an encryption-based scavenger hunt... for my scavenger hunt?"

"Mm-hmm," you confirmed. "Consider it your Valentine's Day gift—twelve puzzles that will actually challenge that big brain of yours. And before you ask, yes, I got Riddler's input on some of the riddles. He was surprisingly helpful once I explained I was trying to one-up you."

Tim's laugh echoed through the study. "I love you," he said, shaking his head. "You know that? Only you would respond to a citywide romantic scavenger hunt by creating an encrypted meta-puzzle."

"Well," you replied, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, "only you would turn Valentine's Day into an elaborate historical-literary-detective adventure just because I said I didn't like commercial holidays. I figured it was only fair to return the favor in our own particular style."

Tim was already turning back to his laptop, fingers hovering eagerly over the keyboard. "How long did this take you to set up?"

"Let's just say I haven't been actually working late all those nights this past month." You grinned. "Now, would you like a hint for the first encryption, or are you going to insist on solving it entirely on your own?"

"You know me better than that," Tim said, already pulling up his decryption programs. "But maybe save the hints for breakfast? Something tells me I'm going to be up all night with this."

"I counted on it," you replied, pulling up a second chair. "That's why I brought caffeine reserves. Happy Valentine's Day, Timothy."

The soft tapping of keys filled the study as Tim dove into your puzzle with characteristic enthusiasm, and you settled in to watch him work, content in the knowledge that you'd managed to surprise the World's Second Greatest Detective with a mystery of your own making.

.

.

.

Three days after Valentine's Day, the Batcave had become ground zero for Tim's increasing obsession with your final encrypted file. The previous eleven had fallen to his expertise within the first forty-eight hours—some taking mere minutes, others requiring a few hours of dedicated concentration. But this last one? This last one was driving him to the brink of madness.

"Master Timothy," Alfred observed from the cave's entrance, carefully balancing a tray of coffee and sandwiches, "perhaps a break would—"

"Can't break, Alfred," Tim muttered, pacing back and forth in front of the massive whiteboard he'd commandeered. "So close. Has to mean something."

The riddle was written across the board in Tim's increasingly frantic handwriting, repeated at least six times in different configurations:

'With his partner, Mr. Wright wasn't pleased

Although he would crack a smile whenever they farted and whenever they sneezed,

There was one tiny flaw that took away from their perfection

A small discrepancy that prevented a bigger connection

He thought about telling them, crafted his words, and took aim

Gathered all of his courage just to tell them.... he hated their [blank] [blank]'

"WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!" Tim suddenly exploded, throwing his hands up in frustration. His hair was sticking up in all directions from running his fingers through it repeatedly. "I don't hate anything about (Y/N)! Nothing! Zero things! This has to be wrong!"

Dick, who had been watching from his perch on the computer console with a mixture of amusement and concern, tried to intervene. "Maybe that's not the point of the—"

"No, no, there's something here," Tim cut him off, spinning back to the whiteboard. "The capitalization has to matter. Why is 'Wright' capitalized? Is it a reference to the Wright brothers? But what would aviation have to do with..."

"Drake," Damian's imperious voice cut through Tim's rambling as the youngest Wayne approached the whiteboard, eraser in hand. "I require this space for actual case work—"

Tim literally hissed at him, moving to physically block the board with his body. "Don't you dare! Not until I've figured out this stupid riddle!" His eyes were slightly wild, caffeine and determination creating a dangerous combination. "Touch this board and I will end you, demon spawn."

"Tt." Damian crossed his arms, looking thoroughly unimpressed. "You're being ridiculous. Over a Valentine's Day puzzle, no less."

"It's not just a puzzle," Tim protested, already darting back to the computer to review the previous eleven decoded files for the hundredth time. "It's... it's a challenge. From (Y/N). Who is absolutely brilliant and devious and..." He trailed off, scanning through lines of code with intense concentration.

"Totally played you," Jason finished, appearing from the shadows with his characteristic smirk. "Face it, Replacement. Your better half got you good."

"Not helping, Jason," Dick called out, though he was clearly fighting a smile.

Tim ignored them all, muttering to himself as he cross-referenced the previous solutions. "Nothing in files one through eleven indicates... no pattern in the encryption methods suggests... this is what I get for dating someone who's practically on par with me intellectually. They knew exactly how to..." He stopped suddenly, eyes widening. "Wait. Wright. WRIGHT. Not W-R-I-G-H-T but W-R-I-T-E?"

The cave fell silent as Tim's fingers flew across the keyboard with renewed purpose. Even Damian paused in his attempts to reclaim the whiteboard, watching his brother with reluctant curiosity.

"Write... writing... written?" Tim typed frantically, trying different variations. But the code remained stubbornly locked. Seven letters. He needed seven letters. "That's not it either! What the fuck!" He threw his arms up again, nearly knocking over his fifteenth cup of coffee.

"Language!" Dick chided automatically from his perch, though his grin suggested he was enjoying his little brother's descent into madness far too much.

A cheerful chime from the computer drew everyone's attention. A small animated version of you appeared in the corner of the screen—a chibi character complete with big eyes and an exaggerated smirk. It danced across his code, holding a sign that read "Need a hint? ♡"

Tim glared at the tiny digital version of you. "Away with you, foul temptress," he grumbled, jabbing at the keyboard to dismiss the hint system. The chibi just smiled wider and did a little spin.

"I can't believe they programmed a hint system with a chibi avatar," Jason snickered, leaning over Tim's shoulder to watch the animation. "That's both adorable and diabolical."

"Master Timothy," Alfred interjected, setting down a fresh cup of coffee and pointedly removing the empty ones, "perhaps if you accepted the hint—"

"No!" Tim protested, running both hands through his already chaotic hair. "No hints. I can figure this out. I have to figure this out. They spent a month creating this puzzle, I can't just—" He waved his hands frantically at the dancing chibi, which was now holding a sign that read "Your caffeine levels suggest you might need help! (◕‿◕✿)"

Damian, who had been watching this display with growing disdain, finally spoke up. "Drake, your pride is making you stupid. More stupid than usual, that is."

"Not helping, demon spawn," Tim muttered, but his eyes never left the screen. The chibi had started doing backflips across his code, each flip leaving a trail of sparkles that suspiciously highlighted certain letters in his previous attempts.

"Okay, okay, let me see this thing," Dick finally hopped down from his perch, moving to stand behind Tim. "Fresh eyes might help. The riddle's about someone named Wright—or write—who doesn't like something about their partner that's seven letters long..."

"Been there, tried that," Tim groaned, but shifted to let Dick see the screen better. "I've tried every seven-letter word I could think of that could possibly relate to our relationship."

Jason, now fully invested despite his earlier teasing, joined them at the computer. "What about their job? Their hobbies? Their—"

"Everything!" Tim threw his hands up. "I've tried everything! Their degree, their job, their favorite book genre, their coffee order—"

"Their coffee order isn't seven letters, Drake," Damian pointed out, having abandoned all pretense of not being interested.

"I KNOW THAT NOW!"

The chibi on screen did a particularly elaborate twirl, and a new hint bubble appeared: 'if seven letters are too hard try thinking of eight~♡♡'

"Eight?" all four brothers said in unison.

"But the blanks in the riddle..." Dick started.

"Clearly indicate two words..." Jason continued.

"Which should total seven letters..." Tim finished, slumping in his chair.

"Tt. You're all incompetent," Damian declared, shoving his way to the keyboard. He started typing rapidly, trying various eight-letter combinations.

Alfred, who had been quietly observing this whole scene, merely raised an eyebrow as he collected another round of empty coffee cups. "Perhaps, young masters, you might consider—"

"Not now, Alfred!" they chorused, all hunched over the keyboard as the chibi continued its merry dance across their failed attempts.

Even Bruce, who had entered the cave somewhere between Tim's fifteenth and sixteenth coffee, found himself drawn into the puzzle. He stood behind his sons, cowl pushed back, frowning at the riddle on the whiteboard.

"Have you considered—" he began.

"Yes," all four boys cut him off.

"What about—"

"Tried it."

"Maybe it's—"

"Nope."

The chibi version of you was now doing the macarena, trailing hearts and question marks in its wake. A new speech bubble appeared: 'Wow, the whole family's here! Still not getting warmer though! ╮(︶▽︶)╭'

"They're enjoying this way too much," Tim grumbled, but there was unmistakable fondness in his voice. "You all realize they're probably watching this through the cave's security feed, right?"

Four heads snapped up to look at the nearest camera. The chibi did a cheerful wave.

The sound of feminine giggling drew everyone's attention to the cave entrance. Cass and Stephanie stood there, both clearly trying—and failing—to maintain straight faces. Stephanie had her phone out, obviously recording the scene before her.

"Oh, don't mind us," Stephanie managed between poorly suppressed snickers. "Please, continue. This is gold."

Tim's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You know something."

Cass's smile was enigmatic as ever, but there was definite amusement in her eyes. She signed quickly, 'It's obvious.'

"If it's so obvious, care to share with the class?" Jason asked, crossing his arms.

Stephanie lost it completely then, doubling over with laughter. "Oh no, no way. (Y/N) swore us to secrecy. They said, and I quote, 'Let them suffer.'"

"They did well," Cass nodded approvingly, watching as the chibi on screen started doing the robot dance.

"Et tu, Cass?" Tim groaned, slumping further in his chair. "I thought you loved me."

"I do," Cass signed, her smile growing. "That's why this is funny."

A new hint bubble appeared above the dancing chibi: 'The girls know what's up! (｡♥‿♥｡)'

"Wait," Dick straightened up. "If Steph and Cass know..."

"Then it has to be something obvious we're all missing," Bruce finished, his detective instincts kicking in.

"Or something only people who weren't raised by the World's Greatest Detective would think of," Stephanie suggested innocently, still recording.

Tim squinted at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing at all," Stephanie sing-songed, moving to perch on one of the cave's workbenches. "Just that sometimes the simplest answer is the right one. But please, keep trying to decrypt it like it's a message from the League of Assassins."

"I hate all of you," Tim declared, turning back to the computer. The chibi had started a conga line with multiple copies of itself across his screen.

'Simple is best! ♪~ ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ' the hint bubble agreed.

The chibi suddenly stopped its conga line, popping up in the center of the screen with an exaggerated thinking pose. A new message bubble appeared:

'Not a hint don't worry! But if I was me I would have asked the people I knew wouldn't get involved in this for help or for something else. You've sorted out two. The last remains a mystery but hey are there. Always watching. ;P'

Tim's eyes widened. "People who wouldn't get involved... sorted out two..."

"Oh my god," Stephanie whispered to Cass, "I think he's finally getting it."

"Slow," Cass signed back with an affectionate smile.

"Wait," Dick leaned forward, squinting at the screen. "Always watching?"

"The cameras?" Jason suggested, glancing up at the cave's security system.

"No, no," Tim was muttering, pulling up the previous eleven decoded files again. "It's something about people who wouldn't get involved... who have we talked to about this? Oracle helped with some of the encryption, Riddler gave input on the riddles..."

"Don't forget Alfred's obvious disapproval of your caffeine intake," Damian pointed out dryly.

The chibi started doing backflips again, leaving a trail of sparkles that seemed to be trying to direct their attention somewhere specific. Tim was too focused on his screen to notice, but Bruce's eyes narrowed as he followed the pattern of the sparkles.

"Tim," Bruce started, but Stephanie's barely contained laughter cut him off.

"No, no, let him figure it out," she insisted, still recording. "This is just getting good."

Tim suddenly went very still, the kind of stillness that usually preceded a major breakthrough. His eyes slowly moved from the screen to where Alfred stood, calmly arranging a fresh pot of coffee on a nearby table.

"The monthly lunches," Tim breathed out. "You and (Y/N) have monthly lunches together."

Alfred's expression remained perfectly neutral, but there was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. "Indeed, Master Timothy. Your partner and I do enjoy our regular discussions about literature, history, and..." he paused meaningfully, "various other topics."

The chibi on screen started doing cartwheels of excitement.

"You know the answer," Tim accused, spinning his chair to face Alfred fully. "You've known this whole time!"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Master Timothy," Alfred replied, but his eyes were twinkling. "Though I must say, your partner's creativity with encryption methods is quite impressive. Almost as impressive as their ability to maintain composure during our last lunch while you were in the corner booth trying to decode the ninth file."

"I KNEW I saw them that day!" Tim exclaimed, jumping up from his chair. "You two were in on this together!"

"Tt. Of course Pennyworth knows," Damian crossed his arms. "They probably planned half of this over their pretentious tea meetings."

"Earl Grey is hardly pretentious, Master Damian," Alfred corrected mildly. "Though I must say, the Ceylon blend we had while discussing the final riddle was particularly excellent."

The chibi was now doing a victory dance, complete with tiny fireworks effects.

'Alfred appreciation squad! ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶' the hint bubble proclaimed.

"Alfred," Tim tried, putting on his best pleading expression. "My most favorite person in this entire family..."

"I believe, Master Timothy," Alfred cut him off smoothly, "that accepting a hint at this point would rather defeat the purpose of your partner's carefully crafted puzzle." He began gathering empty coffee cups onto his tray. "Though I will say, sometimes the answer is rather closer than one might think."

With that cryptic statement, Alfred turned and headed for the cave steps, leaving behind a chorus of groans and, in Tim's case, a dramatic slump back into his chair.

"That's it," Jason announced, shoving Tim's chair aside with one hand. "I can't take this anymore."

"Jason, no—!" Tim lunged for the keyboard, but he was too late.

Jason clicked the hint button with excessive force, prompting the chibi to do an excited spin before presenting a new message bubble:

'There's a spelling error in the Riddle. One letter should not be where it is. One letter. One.'

"YOU TRAITOR!" Tim shoved Jason away from the computer, but the damage was done. The chibi was now doing an enthusiastic spelling bee dance, complete with tiny letter blocks floating around it.

"You're welcome," Jason smirked, dodging Tim's attempt to strangle him. "Now maybe we can all go home sometime this year."

"I had it under control!"

"You really didn't," Dick chimed in, already scanning the riddle again with new eyes. "Okay, so one letter is wrong..."

"But which one?" Bruce muttered, moving closer to the whiteboard.

Stephanie was practically vibrating with contained laughter at this point, while Cass simply smiled her knowing smile.

The chibi started juggling alphabet blocks, occasionally dropping one with an exaggerated 'oops!' expression.

Tim had returned to the whiteboard, scanning each line with intense concentration. "One letter... one wrong letter... but which..."

"Perhaps," Damian suggested with exaggerated patience, "you should focus on the words that matter most in the riddle."

"All the words matter!" Tim protested, but his eyes were fixed on the final line. "Gathered all of his courage just to tell them.... he hated their [blank] [blank]"

Dick had gone oddly quiet, his eyes darting between the riddle and Tim's increasingly frantic expression. Then, without warning, he reached for the eraser.

"Dick, I swear to god if you—" Tim started, but froze as Dick deliberately erased just the 'W' in 'Mr. Wright.'

The cave went silent.

The chibi on screen started doing enthusiastic cheerleader moves with tiny pom-poms.

"Mr... Right," Tim said slowly, then louder, "Mr. RIGHT!"

"FINALLY!" Stephanie threw her hands up, nearly dropping her phone. "I thought we were going to be here until next Valentine's Day!"

Cass was signing rapidly, 'Now he sees.'

"Wait," Jason leaned forward, a grin spreading across his face. "If it's Mr. Right, and the blanks need eight letters total..."

Tim was already typing frantically. "Last name... last name... what's wrong with their last name?" His fingers paused over the keyboard. "Eight letters..."

The chibi had produced a tiny banner that read 'So close! SO CLOSE!'

Bruce, who had been watching this entire scene unfold with what might have been amusement (it was sometimes hard to tell with him), finally spoke up. "Tim, what's your last name?"

"That doesn't make sense," Tim huffed in frustration, "my last name is five letters. D-R-A-K-E." He wrote it out on the whiteboard, underlining each letter for emphasis.

The chibi suddenly produced a tiny professor's cap and glasses, pulling down a mathematical chart. A new equation appeared:

'5+7=8!! And you've only figured out you need seven letters. Not how many characters you need. ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ'

Stephanie was practically crying with laughter at this point. "Oh my god, this is the best thing I've ever recorded. The look on his face right now..."

"Wait," Dick moved closer to the whiteboard, looking between the equation and Tim's written name. "Five plus seven equals eight... that's not..."

"Mathematics appears to have escaped all of you," Damian sneered, though he was eyeing the equation with growing interest.

"Shut up, demon spawn, I'm thinking," Tim muttered, staring at his last name on the board. "Five letters plus seven letters somehow equals eight... but that's not mathematically possible unless..."

The chibi had started drawing something in the air with a sparkly pen, but kept erasing it before anyone could read it properly.

Jason, who had been unusually quiet, suddenly straightened up. "Holy shit," he whispered, then started laughing. "Holy shit, replacement, you're an idiot."

"What? What am I missing?" Tim spun to face him, but Jason just shook his head, now laughing too hard to speak.

Then Jason straightened up, addressing the chibi directly. "Seven letters, right?"

The chibi nodded enthusiastically, releasing tiny explosions of confetti.

"And I'm guessing eight characters?"

More vigorous nodding, the chibi now practically bouncing with excitement.

"So," Jason's grin grew wider, "there's a space somewhere. The password isn't actually an answer, is it? It's a question."

The chibi erupted into a full celebration mode, throwing confetti everywhere and doing backflips while tiny fireworks exploded across the screen.

"A question?" Tim repeated slowly, then his eyes went wide. "A question... about my last name... seven letters but eight characters..."

Stephanie had given up trying to hold the phone steady, she was laughing so hard. "Oh my god, he's actually getting it."

"Finally," Cass signed, smiling broadly.

"Drake," Damian said with exaggerated patience, "what might someone ask about your last name that would require seven letters and a space?"

Dick's face split into a huge grin as he caught on. "Oh. Oh that's good. That's really good."

Bruce had actually cracked a smile, which in Bruce-terms was practically rolling on the floor laughing.

Tim stared at his last name written on the whiteboard, then at the riddle about Mr. Right, then back at his name. The chibi was now holding up a tiny sign with a question mark on it, bouncing it up and down suggestively.

Suddenly, Tim shoved everyone away from the computer with such force that Jason nearly toppled into Dick. His fingers flew across the keyboard: M-A-R-R-Y-M-E.

The file lock clicked open with a satisfying digital chime. The chibi threw up its tiny arms in victory before dissolving into a shower of hearts.

The screen filled with photos, cycling through like a slideshow: Tim and you in the university library during that first heated AI debate, both of you gesturing passionately; a candid shot from the coffee shop where you'd first really talked, Tim's eyes bright with caffeine and interest as you explained your thesis; the two of you at a Wayne gala, you rolling your eyes at something while Tim tried not to laugh; a series of pictures from various puzzle nights and study sessions that had slowly transformed into dates; the first picture of you both after Tim revealed his identity as Red Robin, you looking utterly unfazed while pointing out the flaws in his attempt to throw you off the trail; countless moments of your shared life together, each one flowing into the next.

Then the photos faded into video footage. It showed Tim from just the night before, sprawled across his bed, completely passed out from his puzzle-solving attempts. He was drooling slightly on his pillow, his hair a chaotic mess, looking absolutely nothing like the composed CEO he presented to the world.

You appeared in frame, pressing a finger to your lips in a conspiratorial gesture to the camera. In your other hand was a red velvet box. You tiptoed to Tim's jacket—the same one currently thrown over the back of his chair in the cave—and carefully slipped a golden band into the pocket.

The video faded to black, and text appeared on screen:

'This one is a click choice: Yes or No'

The cave had gone completely silent. Even Stephanie had stopped laughing, her phone still recording but forgotten in her hand.

Tim slowly reached for his jacket, his hand shaking slightly as it dipped into the pocket. The ring caught the cave's lighting as he pulled it out, simple and elegant and perfectly sized for his finger.

The chibi reappeared on screen, now wearing a tiny tuxedo and holding what appeared to be wedding bells, waiting patiently for input.

Tim's hand was trembling slightly as he slipped the ring onto his finger—a perfect fit. Through vision that was definitely not blurring with tears, he clicked 'Yes.'

The screen immediately filled with your face, beaming with triumphant joy. "I know you love those 'how it's made' videos so... here's mine! This actually has taken me the better part of a year to make. It is shockingly difficult to write code while having emotional moments, so I had a little help." Your grin turned mischievous. "Actually, everyone around you had a part. Oh yeah. They are all traitors who have been lying about not knowing the answer."

Tim spun in his chair to face his family, who were all wearing varying degrees of satisfied smiles.

"Jason helped pick out the riddles with me," you continued, and Jason gave an exaggerated bow. "The Mr. Wright one was his favorite."

"Because it was genius," Jason confirmed, looking far too pleased with himself.

"Dick did distraction on you, kept you busy these last few months."

"All those 'emergency' training sessions?" Dick grinned. "Not so emergency after all."

"Damian did the part of figuring out your ring size, without cutting off your finger—it was a hard talk down."

"Tt. Your hands move too much when you sleep, Drake," Damian commented, though he looked slightly proud.

"Stephanie and Cass helped be moral support."

"And recorded everything for posterity!" Stephanie added, still filming.

"And of course," your voice softened slightly, "I had to ask Bruce and Alfred both for permission."

Bruce's hand came to rest on Tim's shoulder, squeezing gently. Alfred, who had mysteriously reappeared in the cave, was definitely dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief.

"I even got Conner and Bart to help out with keeping you later at boys nights so I could finish up the code on these."

Tim let out a watery laugh. "That's why they kept insisting on 'one more round' of everything?"

The chibi had returned, now joined by tiny digital versions of the entire family, all doing a celebration dance.

"You all knew," Tim accused, but he couldn't keep the smile off his face. "This entire time, you all knew."

"Master Timothy," Alfred said warmly, "some mysteries are worth waiting to solve."

The screen flickered, and your voice took on a more serious tone. "Now that little me has gotten her celebration over with, I'm sure congratulations can wait for the moment. I ask that everyone other than Tim leave the room. Including the cameras. As much as blackmail sounds funny and all, this part is the important one and it's private."

Your leg had started bouncing in the video—a nervous tell Tim knew well. The family exchanged knowing looks and began filing out. Stephanie finally lowered her phone, giving Tim a quick kiss on the cheek before following the others. Bruce was the last to leave, pausing only to squeeze Tim's shoulder once more before heading up the cave steps.

The cameras' red lights blinked off one by one.

Only then did you smile softly at the camera, and Tim's heart caught at the vulnerability in your expression. "I've never been one to be sugary. Pet names are not my thing, I'm not one for flowers or chocolates, I'm not a normal partner and you made me feel okay in that and seen." You paused, taking a steadying breath. "But if you're seeing this part of the video, it means you clicked yes. I had to prerecord this otherwise I'd be a crying mess right now. Which is less than needed for this."

Tim leaned forward in his chair, his new ring catching the light as he reached out to touch the screen where your face was displayed. The cave was completely silent now except for your voice and the soft hum of the computer.

You took a deep inhale before letting it out slowly, your eyes fixed on the camera as if you could see Tim watching. "The times we have spent together over the years have been some of the best moments of my life. From the camping trip that ended in a spider-infested tent to late night binge sessions of that stupid detective show that's not even in English that we both hate to love."

A soft laugh escaped Tim as he remembered that camping trip—how you'd maintained your analytical calm even while helping him evacuate the tent, cataloging each spider species you encountered.

"You have never once made me feel odd or unloved and I hope I made you feel the same even if it's difficult for me to articulate." Your voice grew softer, more intense. "You are my person and I don't put that lightly. In a universe filled with millions upon millions of atoms, I'm so glad that mine have gotten to know yours."

Tim's vision blurred again, but he didn't try to wipe away the tears this time.

"And although I don't believe in marriage as I told you when we first met," you continued with a slight smile, "I'd rather die of radiation poisoning from sleeping next to you for the rest of our lives than never have gotten the opportunity." Your own eyes were getting watery now, despite your earlier claim about pre-recording to avoid crying. "You are my missing piece, Timothy. I love you. And I'm so excited to see where this new ring-sized door leads."

The chibi appeared one final time, offering a tiny tissue to the screen before fading away with a gentle shower of hearts.

Tim sat in the quiet of the cave, his finger tracing the band of his ring, a smile spreading across his face despite the tears. Trust you to propose with encrypted files, riddles, and a speech that referenced both quantum physics and your shared hatred of pretentious foreign detective shows.

He reached for his phone, knowing exactly where you'd be waiting.

"Hi future husband," you answered on the first ring, making Tim bark out a watery laugh.

"You. Suck. You know that?" He responded, voice thick with emotion. "You beat me to the punch!"

"Huh?"

"Check my bedside drawer."

There was a pause, then the sound of movement on your end. Tim could perfectly picture you crossing your shared bedroom to his side of the bed. The drawer squeaked slightly as you opened it—he'd been meaning to fix that.

Then silence.

"Timothy Jackson Drake," your voice came back, slightly strangled. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Third drawer back, behind my spare laptop charger," Tim confirmed, unable to keep the grin off his face despite his tears. "I've been carrying it around for two months trying to figure out the perfect way to ask. I had this whole plan involving that quantum physics conference next month and the observatory and—" He broke off with a laugh. "And you just completely outmaneuvered me with probably the most elaborate proposal in history."

The sound of a box opening came through the phone, followed by your sharp intake of breath. "You got me a titanium ring."

"With a carbon fiber inlay," Tim added. "Because you said traditional jewelry metals weren't practical for someone who works with chemicals regularly. I had it custom made to be acid-resistant."

A choked laugh came through the phone. "We really are perfect for each other, aren't we?"

"Well," Tim smiled, looking down at his own ring, "I did just click 'yes' to spending the rest of my life with you, so I'd say so." He paused, then added, "Though I have to know—what would the chibi have done if I'd clicked 'no'?"

"Bold of you to assume I programmed that as an option," you replied, and Tim could hear your smile. "The 'no' button was just for show. It would have rick-rolled you and then asked again."

Tim laughed out loud, the sound echoing through the empty cave. "I love you so much. You know that?"

"I love you too," you replied softly. "Now come home so I can see how that ring looks on you in person. And maybe you can tell me more about this quantum physics conference proposal plan that I completely derailed."

"On my way," Tim said, already heading for his motorcycle. Then he paused. "Wait—do we have to tell the family they can come back into the cave now, or..."

"Oh, they've definitely been watching on the backup cameras that I didn't have access to shut off," you said matter-of-factly. "Hi everyone! Sorry for the emotional display!"

Distant cheering could be heard from the upper levels of the cave, confirming your theory.

"Typical," Tim sighed fondly, but he couldn't stop smiling. "See you in ten minutes?"

"Make it five," you countered. "I think we have some celebrating to do before Alfred inevitably appears with engagement cake."

"It's probably already baking," Tim agreed, swinging onto his bike. "Love you, future spouse."

Your laugh was the last thing he heard before ending the call, and it carried him all the way home.

.

.

.

[lemotmo]

Ignoring the fact that the bobby resurrection has to happen in 8x16 for the logistics of being buried alive/for viewer sanity reasons, I actually think it would be really interesting to see them hold off on bringing him back until the season finale?

Like at this point if he’s coming back it’s gotta be next episode bc they can’t keep people waiting too long (and given the script leaks), but just IMAGINE if we had two/three episodes dealing with the fallout of Bobby’s death, and then the last scene before the season ends is him waking up

It would give a good amount of time to “shake things up” (as Tim is saying) and have the other characters make choices they wouldn’t make if he’s already come back. Like I think everyone’s lives will be changed regardless, but I think Bobby coming back in 8x16 might not give enough time for the grief to settle in and change things. Is that a weird thing to say? lol

Idk I think everything that’s happened with this episode and the leaks is really unfortunate bc that would actually be a super interesting way to end the season! I’m curious to see what happens regardless though…

I agree that this would be very interesting indeed. It would propel the story and the characters foreward in new and unexpected ways. It would be fascinating to see how everyone would react in the aftermath of his death.

But yeah, in order to have pulled that scenario off, Tim should have made very different choices than the ones he made now.

When Tim came up with this crazy unhinged plan, he must have somewhat foreseen the crashout of the fandom and the GA. I know that a lot of people talk about the fact that this grew to bigger proportions than Tim would have anticipated. And in a lot of ways it did.

But I really do think he was fully aware just how risky this would be. Especially because he actually had Peter give an exit-interview and the other actors made some (half-assed) posts about it on their Instagram. It all looks pretty real, unless you look a little closer and see the cracks.

The only thing Tim failed to calculate is the fact that the episode itself was just not good. It was mediocre. I'm sure that, in his head, it was the best work he had ever done. But in reality it was terrible.

So now you have a whole audience who didn't just crashout over Bobby dying, but who genuinly hated the episode and the way Bobby came to his end. This isn't so much about the fact that he died, but also the way he died.

And let's not forget the outcry for Eddie Diaz as well. Everywhere you look on social media, there are people screaming for less guest characters (aka Tommy) and more Eddie. They are outraged that Eddie didn't even get one single reaction shot and apparently a single phone call off screen.

It was a good idea, but a half-assed execution of the idea.

So yeah, Bobby Nash will (most likely) crawl out of his grave in episode 16 and Eddie will come back to LA. But it will take some time for the mood to settle.

If Tim is smart, he will use the momentum to propel Buddie into a new phase. Some realisations perhaps? Or a confession to another character like Maddie? Maybe even something more? It will keep the audience engaged and make them forget all about episode 8x15 and Bobby's death during the long hiatus before season 9.

TV-show audiences are fickle like that. They forgive and forget quite easily if you give them something else to focus on and care about.

[yanderes-galore]

Madness combat Romantic concept

Fem!White Hank and Fem!Darling, who is 2bdamned's clone.

This idea has been in my head for almost a year, but now I have decided to request it.

2bdamned created her as as a backup plan in case he dies(and so that the reader can then get him out of purgatory).

But, she run away from Status Quo and her creator, as 2bdamned did with AAHW.

And during her wanderings, she met Wank, which is Hank's clone, of course.

Now it's 2 female clones against the whole of Nevada.

Oh... this is actually a neat thought- Here you go! Gotta love some more WLW content.... 💜 Like in the request, you are indeed both clones. Sorry for the wait! I started this months ago and only continued it recently.

Hank = Original Hank

Hank = White Hank

Some older White Hank content

Yandere! Fem! White Hank with Fem! 2BDamned Clone! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Violence, Murder, Blood, Stalking, Overprotective/Possessive behavior, Clone shenanigans, Clingy behavior, Delusional behavior, Dubious/Implied forced relationship.

I like to think you ran off as some sort of rebellious phase from your creator, 2B.

Although... since he did something similar, you probably were just following something instinctual deep within you.

You aren't an exact clone, hence the different gender, but you are made from his DNA nonetheless.

When you ran away you worked on making yourself look different from your creator.

You wanted to be your own person... so you began living your life surviving in Nevada.

Which eventually makes you catch sight of White Hank... another rogue clone, but from Hank.

It's funny how you two were brought together.

It was similar to your creators.

Hank probably first thought you were a threat.

You panicked for a moment when Hank tackled you,

Although... it seems the memories of both of you made you hesitate.

Hank probably had a flash of 2B in her mind, causing her to back off in confusion.

You probably had a flashback of Hank which caused you to pause.

As clones, you have some memories of your creators due to the DNA.

So... despite the blood covering Hank's clothes from her previous scuffle, she tries to be friendly instead.

I like to imagine the obsession starts due to her memories.

Deep in her she knows she should be fond of you/trust you.

Yet due to Hank's DNA, she's also incredibly violent and unpredictable.

So she acts very similar to a yandere Hank due to her being a clone.

You have a body guard who stalks and slaughters anyone who gets too close.

She doesn't stay completely out of the way like Hank.

There's times it seems like she's left you, only to show up later.

She probably doesn't leave your side much as you're essentially the female versions of Hank and 2B.

You have medical knowledge like 2B and patch her up when she needs it.

You also have some combat skills.

I imagine she's naturally clingy with you due to the "parent" DNA you both have.

Befriending Hank seems to be a good idea in your eyes.

After all, she's a skilled killer like Hank.

Even if she seems a bit obsessive about you.

You see her as an ally and bodyguard.

Meanwhile, she probably sees you as some sort of romantic interest... it's hard to tell.

I say it's hard to tell since she seems awfully focused on violence.

Although... in the downtime, she sticks close.

You could be resting and while she keeps watch she pulls you against her.

Just two girl clones surviving the badlands of Nevada together.

One just so happens to be violently obsessed with the other.

I imagine 2B is trying to track you, only to groan in annoyance when he catches footage of you with another failed clone.

Failed because Hank was never all that... obedient.

Hank wasn't either, he should really alter the way he does things....

Hank wouldn't let you go back to 2B.

Far as she's concerned, you're finders keepers.

If you ran away from 2B, there's no need to send you back.

You can stay with her.

To Hank, you're girlfriends at this point.

As time ticks on, she only seems to grow closer.

She'd probably throw hands with the original 2B and Hank to keep you to herself.

If you said you weren't interested in a romantic relationship with Hank, she probably wouldn't believe you.

In her eyes you two are already dating.

Why are you fighting it?

Are you being influenced by someone?

Is your old creator making you say such a thing?

That's okay... you can ignore such an order!

Even if you try to run from her, she'll follow.

No need to kidnap if she's around you all the time... watching... waiting.

You'll see you two are meant to be...

Even if she has to execute all who say otherwise.

[puppiesandnightlock]

Link: A Robin's Song (Chapter 3)

Summary and age information found here

Two years ago, July.

“DAMIAN!!” Jon pounced on him the moment he opened the door, shoving a little plastic card in his face. 

“Jon-” He shoved the taller boy off of him, snatching the card and reading it over. “Holy shit, you actually did it!” 

“SWEAR JAR!” a little voice came from inside the house.

Both ignored it in favor of the growing excitement between the boys, Damian feeding off of Jon’s hyper attitude. 

“WE'RE GOING TO MALIBU!” Jon shrieked. “I told your dad yesterday and my parents said yes a while ago cause they thought i wouldnt get it but guess what i did and SUCK IT MOM AND  DAD CAUSE I HAVE A DRIVER’S LICENSE !”

“To be fair, you did crash a few cars. And failed your learner’s permit test, like five times.”

“Shut up, you promised not to bring that up.”

“I didn’t promise .”

“Whatever, D, nothing is bringing my mood down, so get your butt in gear and pack your stuff cause we’re heading for Cal-i-fornia tomorrow!!”

“We’re literally going to be there for like five hours, Jon.”

“Literally nothing you say is making me less excited!” He beamed at him, making Damian's stomach flip pleasantly. 

That had been happening much too often lately for his liking. 

“Alright, alright.” Damian huffed, but not before turning a genuine smile, soft and sweet towards Jon.

“Seriously, though. Congratulations, I’m proud of you. I know you worked hard.” 

Jon flushed, Damian assuming it was from the praise.

“T-Thanks, D. See you tomorrow?”

“See ya, J.”

Damian shoved his backpack into the Kent’s car, Jon grinning like a maniac as both of their families surrounded them.

“Riding the waves up in Malibu!” Kon sang, bouncing around with Cass and Steph.

“They really get, get to you!” Tim joined in, the four of them singing loudly and off key.

“So let's give it up for those L.A. boys!” They finished off, laughing with each other. Damian turned to Jon, whispering.

“How long is this phase going to last?”

“Excuse me, Damian, the Victorious soundtrack is iconic.” Jon gasped, the perfect portrayal of offense.

“Iconically stupid.” 

Insulted gasps sounded from all around him.

Dammit, he forgot he was surrounded by preteens.

After much bedraggling and hugs and kisses for their parents, (“We are merely driving two hours away, we will return alive, I promise.”) the two set out on the drive, turning up the radio and singing even louder.

They spent the whole day on the beach, wandering the shops beachside, sharing a better version of the strawberry ice cream they’d get at school. Both had even gotten hit on, and offered a few numbers to each other's amusement. 

As they drove into their small town and pulled up into Damian’s driveway, unlocking the car.

“Had a lot of fun today.” Damian smiled, letting his hand rest on top of the other’s. “Thanks, J.”

“N-Not a problem, D. Thanks for coming.” Jon stumbled over his words, the tips of Damian’s fingers brushing over his.

Damian ran inside, blushing red. He didn't dare look back, although, if he had, he would have seen the blue eyes he’d loved so much staring back at him, lovesick grin and flushed red face to complete the deal.

                                                     Present day

The raven-haired teen watched his friend worriedly. “Are you okay? You look sick.”

“I’m…I’m so happy for you!” He croaked, throat dry. His face had drained of blood, a woozy feeling coming over him. Putting up a brave face, he bumped his shoulder with Jon’s, forcing the smile so wide it hurt physically.

“You can tell me all the details later, I don't want to be late for class.” He moved his backpack so that it hung on one shoulder, quickly speed walking towards the hallways. Jon trailed after him, chattering excitedly per usual. 

“It was so romantic, Dami, just like I planned! We’re going out for almost three weekends straight!”

Damian felt his heart drop, and as it hit the bottom it cracked in half, pouring out all the memories and weekend plans they’d had together.

“You’ll be free for the new movie coming out in a few months, right?”

This franchise was the most important thing to them, something they bonded over as children and even now knew every bit of lore it offered, and as preteens even collaborated on a fanfic, although their current persons have burned it from their minds. To miss even the latest picture between the two of them was a travesty.

“Course! I would never dare miss it, D, I'm sure Haisley will understand when I tell her!” Jon chirped. 

The bell rang, and Jon’s joy filled eyes were all he saw as he turned and ran towards his classroom, the knowledge that that emotion would never be because of him burning in the back of his mind.

 A few weeks after that, Damian had been finding new ways to avoid not just Haisley, but the couple as well. He could only be with Jon for a bit every day before the conversation turned to Haisley, which both pained and irritated the pining boy to no end.

For the first time, Damian had felt a surge of unpleasant emotions towards the girl, sometimes so strong he nearly classified it as hate. 

The thing that kept him from doing that was coincidentally the same thing that brought him back towards Jon.

He was sneaking out of the library, unceremoniously shoving his sketching pad inside his backpack when a flash of deep brown caught him and he was met with Haisley’s dashing blue eyes.

“Hello, Damian.”

“H-hi?” He stuttered, surprise and confusion clouding him.

“Can we talk?” She asked innocently, although to anyone else it would have sounded dangerous.

“Make it quick, Parker, I have things to do.” He muttered, having regained his senses. The challenging air surrounded them, and Damian deflected, presenting his confident, nearly arrogant air, his head filled with snappy comments and snarky responses, ready to fire on command. 

She had her own way of doing this, seeing as she seemed to be the challenger. Poised and ready like a snake, with all the grace and intimidation of a lioness. 

“It’s about Jon.” She said after a moment, surrendering first. 

He dropped his quickly after, turning defensive. “What about him? I won’t have you hurting him, and if you do I most certainly will not have a hand in it.”

Her eyes widened, and she was quick to steer him away from the negative. “No, no, it’s not what you think!”

She looked down rather bashfully, Damian contemplating whether or not this was genuine or a manipulative tactic.  

“You’re his best friend and he trusts you and your judgment over anyone’s, more than mine or even his parents. You’re super important to him, and that means your words carry a lot of weight. You are said to be a good judge of character, and I just wanted to ask…if you approved? I know it's not like the olden days where you ask for things like that but-”

He let her ramble on as he mulled over her words. What she had asked was kind, considerate and only would have been thought of by someone completely genuine.

Goddammit.

“Haisley!” He cut her off. “Yes. yes, i’m okay with it, you’ll be...a very good match for him.” 

The last few words were spit out like gravel in his mouth, somehow gone unnoticed by the girl as she smiled brightly and leaped up to hug him, before letting go quickly and scurrying off, but not before calling “Thank you so much!” 

That would be that, he assumed, after screwing his whole love life over. There was no possible way he could hate Haisley, no matter how much he wished to despise her, due to one simple little question asked with all the innocence of a puppy. 

It would have all been easier if he only had to talk to her every now and then, only for formalities and necessity, but she persisted, and he was weak to the joyful looks Jon would give when he saw the two getting along.

Haisley would start conversations and he would mostly tune them out, adding a ‘mhm’ and ‘yeah wow’ every few minutes. He only started paying attention after she said something that caught him off guard.

“Repeat that, sorry?” It was about the latest date she and Jon had gone on, and under normal circumstances, he would never listen to this.

“Oh, we went for ice cream, and shared a strawberry one! Watching the sunset and everything, it was so romantic.” the girl gushed. 

His throat felt like sandpaper as he swallowed, painful sparks of some emotion starting to sprout.

“Ah...sounds amazing..” 

That was HIS thing to do with Jon, something they did less of now but used to when they were younger. 

He began paying more attention to her talks, spotting more and more similarities.

“He took me to a beach in Malibu!”

“We just stayed inside that day, watched Glee!”

“I forgot my jacket and we couldn't go out that first date. He gave me his, and I knew he was a keeper!”

These, all of these things, were Jon-and-Damian things, not Haisley-and-Jon things. These were their things to do, their pastimes, their comfort late at night, their history…all of it was being taken and twisted into stupid, STUPID , dates.

(And maybe, throughout this bout of anger, the thoughts that it could have been him in Haisley’s place, could have been him laughing at the stupid jokes and the ice cream on the tip of his nose and the jacket that was too big for him.)

The entirety of this time, after such talks like these with her, he would take out a writing pad and scribble on it, the hurt overwhelming the anger. 

Towards the last talk, he’d formulated them into lyrics, his brothers reading it over with worry on their faces.

“This…seems a little vindictive, Dami.” Tim said, holding the piece of paper between his forefingers. 

“It’s not even based on them this time!” He defended himself with lies. “Could be about anyone, really.”

“ Car rides to malibu?” Duke read out loud, incredulous tones to his voice. “That alone is a giveaway.”

“Shut up, no, it’s not!” He sputtered. “Besides, even if it was, which it's NOT, get that smirk off your face this instant Timothy, this sounds more like they actually dated and the person singing is angry over the reuse of the things they used to do. And ‘Damian’ does not sound like ‘Haisley’. I could defend this for hours.”

“Whatever makes you feel better, Dames.” Tim handed back the paper, shaking his head.

Duke hung back a bit longer, going through the rhythm and lyrics with him again.

When they’d finished, he turned to his older brother and asked again. “Are you positive you wanna do this one, Dami? This one…seems kinda vengeful. And when it comes to Jon, I know you're anything but. Plus, don't deny it, I know you've been getting along well with Haisley too, so...”

“My coping method, my life, not yours, Duke.” Damian reminded him a bit sarcastically. He softened a bit after saying it, replacing it with “Thank you for this though.”

“I know you are worried but I'm fine, this is fine, honestly. And besides, only the beginning would ever align with me anyways.”

Duke sighed, a tiny smile appearing. “Okay, Dami. Just let us know when you want to record, i guess.”

Damian sat back on the couch, posting an update on the song that would be uploaded tomorrow. 

In a way, his brothers were right. This one was different from the first two, not much pining and more anger. He’d written when emotions were high, and when he sang it, it was less fire and more of an ‘I miss you’. 

This whole mess couldn’t be put on anyone but him, after all, it was his dumbass who encouraged Jon to ask her out, and himself who didn’t tell him earlier. 

His phone lit up with a text notification from Jon, attached was a screenshot of the post he’d just made and an all caps key smash.

It was selfish, but for a moment he pretended that it was really him that Jon was excited about, not Robin.

He wondered for a bit, if Jon would react the same way if he really knew it was him.

This was how a double life worked, he supposed.

His condolences to the vigilantes in the fictional world.

[liquid-luck-00]

Truth / Lies

Bio!Dad Bruce

Bio!Dad Masterlist ~~~ Ao3 ~~~ First ~~~ Previous ~~~~~~~~~~

Marinette slipped out of the apartment early the next morning. She ran through the city, the early morning air stung her skin, waking her up more with each step.

Last night was a whirlwind and she didn't let herself think about it. But now she was.

Three months, almost four.

She has only known she was a Wayne for four months.

If this had happened sooner. She shuddered at the thought, yet it still flitted across her mind. She would have married her brother had this happened sooner.

Would she have recognized Damian from the 10 seconds she spent looking at his photo that day. No, she wouldn't and that thought terrified her. If it happened before then, she wouldn't even know she had a brother.

Would Bruce have recognized her, maybe, but then again that was assuming he knew what she looked like. And knowing what and how this happened, they wouldn’t have even met until after the fact.

She didn't even realize she had made her regular circuit until she was back in front of their apartment building. She opened the door and made her way up.

Hopefully Tim was gone, and they wouldn't need to explain last night.

She opened the door and there was not only Tim, but also Dick, Jason, and Bruce. At the table was a statuesque Damian.

"How much did they get out of you?" She tentatively asked.

"They threatened to call Manhunter." Was his answer.

Okay they know nothing, but oh no, oh no, oh no. She sat next to Damian turning into statue number two.

"Mini, the two of you disappeared last night what happened." Dad tried to stay calm, but his patience must have been tested by Sol already.

"Two truths, one lie." She side eyed Damian.

"We were in Nanda Parbat." Damian started.

"We avoided one mind numbing wedding." Marinette continued.

"The order has a larger moral back-bone than the league."

"You two aren't seriously playing this game to stall, are you?!" Tim seemed close to a mental breakdown. Then again, he hasn't slept in a week, so them disappearing may be the straw that broke him.

"Nanda Parbat and the league are tied so 1 and 3 are true." Jason figured.

"I would agree if this wasn't the second time, they said they avoided a wedding." Tim sighed.

"But it doesn't add into any of the others." Dick added.

"This morning their excuse was they were avoiding a wedding." Tim supplied.

"The truths are 1 and 2." Dad spoke definitely.

"Care to fill in the rest of the class B." Jason scoffed.

"Mini looks down for a fraction of a second when she lies, and she didn't when she said 2. Leaving 1 or 3 as the lie. Damian doesn't have a tick but using what he said 1 is true." He explained.

"There is no way for them to make that round trip in such a short time." Dick thought aloud. "Unless the order is filled with magic users. Meaning it is possible. And kidnapping kids could count as a lower moral backbone."

"Okay, so you're right, but kidnapping isn't the reason the League has a larger moral compass." Marinette assured.

"Do we want to know why the League of fucking Assassins has a larger moral backbone than an order of supposedly good magicians?" Jay was the one to speak the question on everyone's mind.

"Well if not saying or attempting to stop marrying two underage people is any indication." Damian scoffed.

"I honestly think it was their idea in the first place." Marinette mused aloud.

"Please for the love of god tell me you two weren't the ones getting married." Tim finally put it together.

"We avoided one hell of a headache inducing wedding. What do you think." She confirmed exasperated.

In a second (4) Errors could be seen on the faces of their family.

"Mini how long will it take to get to the league with Kaalki?" Dad was the first to recover, but his voice was eerily level, scarier than his even tone as Batman.

"Instantaneously, but someone who knows it better should be the one opening the portal." She responded quickly.

"Give the glasses to your brother. Damian open a portal."

Neither of them put up a fight, doing exactly as they were told. Not 20 seconds later all six of them were back in the middle of the League of Assassins following a clearly pissed off Bruce Wayne.

Thank kwamii that everyone else seem to know exactly where they were going in this compound because she sure didn’t. She walked right next to Damian the entire time and they were both watching their fathers back.

Twist and turns one after another and they finally came to what she can only describe as a throne room. When she saw the piece of shit that is Damian's maternal grandfather once again.

"Ra's." Was all her father stated. It is no exaggeration when she says that the color drained from that man’s face. She apparently wasn’t the only one contemplating exactly what had gone down last night. And the inevitable reaction of her family. What she failed to notice however, but her father didn’t was next to him was the same monk, still there. "Name." He ordered.

"Su-Han." He still spoke with dignity, but fear crept into his voice and stance.

"What the fuck did you try to do to my kids." Bruce growled in that instant she stopped breathing.

"Holy shit did Bruce just..." Jason stage whispered to Dick. However, she still couldn’t breathe and just watched the exchange. If she didn’t know her father’s rule to not kill, she would think he would be about to kill both Ra's and Su-Han, but she did know that rule. She’s pretty sure her father my break it though.

---

Bruce immediately was in a state of shock.

As Batman he had contingencies and plans in place for everything and anything. But this, this never was a probable scenario ever.

Once his shock faded, he saw red, he was absolutely livid. Children, his children, were almost married, for what. A feud that neither knew even existed.

"Mini how long will it take to get to the league with Kaalki?" His voice was dead even, attempting and failing to keep his anger in check. Thank God Hawkmoth was no more.

"Instantaneously, but someone who knows it better should be the one opening the portal." She responded quickly.

"Give the glasses to your brother. Damian open a portal."

Mini handed Damian the glasses, who immediately opened a portal. He walked through with his kids in tow, but he did not stray from his warpath. He found Ra's and another man, who wore the symbol on Mari's box.

"Ra's." Was all he said, knowing he had the man's attention the moment he entered. He showed no attempt to be bored. or uninterested. In fact, if it didn't seem impossible, Bruce would go so far as to say he was scared. He then looked over at the second man. "Name." He spoke again.

"Su-Han." He still spoke with dignity, but fear crept into his voice and stance.

"What the fuck did you try to do to my kids." Bruce demanded.

"It is not like you to visit." Ra's seemed to dance around his question.

"Why my kids?!" His voice rose and patience dwindled. So much so he didn't notice his two youngest slipped out of the room. While the older three seemed to be eating cookies and pastries, watching the show.

"Them being related was an unforeseen factor." Su-Han answered. "For there to be peace the two organizations needed to be unified."

"And both of you rubbed your cumulative two brain cells together and thought marrying two kids together is a valid response."

It was Ra's turn to speak. "Both of your children happen to be the next in line to command both respective organizations. Marriage was simply a contract between the two individual organizations to maintain peace. Although that failed to occur."

"Why did marriage come before I don't know, a god damn Peace treaty." He stopped to breathe.

"Given our history." Su-Han tried to make a point, but he didn't let him.

"You want history, I hear they have been around since the time of the Ancient Egyptians and the Ancient Babylonian Empires."

Both men stood there seemingly trying to formulate any response that could work. “Marriage was the most reliable method to promote unity between the two.”

"Bullshit, you both wanted something quick and easy." An explosion was heard in the compound, sending Ra's into a fighting stance. "You both wanted to make it their responsibility to keep the peace. And when it would fail you would use it as an excuse to return to fighting one another."

A full minute of pure silence when no one so much as moved drawled on. Until the doors opened, and in walked his children, as a fox and a horse with two Kwamii in front of them.

"Are you two the ones responsible for the explosion?"

They looked at one another, then back at him. Damian was the one who answered. "Yes."

"What did you four do?" He asked, although he only did so more out of obligation than curiosity.

"We may have destroyed all the Pools of Miracles." Tikki flew forward and answered.

"You destroyed the Lazarus Pits / Pools!" Was shouted by Ra's and Su-Han.

"Yes, so it's magic cannot be further twisted." Mari stood firm.

"And for the monks to stop using it to extend their lives." Damian added.

"Can I spite them now?" A cat Kwamii he never met before asked him.

"I should be more disappointed, but I'm not." He sighed. "Go on ahead."

"Pigtails your family is the best." The cat cheered. "Now for you two."

The best way to explain what he did was that he phased through each of their hearts and floated on back. The entire time he were a grin that rivaled the cheshire cat.

"Plagg, what did you do?" Tikki tentatively asked.

"What's the fun in telling you now. Plagg cackled. With that they all left, back to Paris. Never mess with his kids, because one they can God damn take care of themselves and two, he may not kill but he will supervise if even one of them is hurt.

~~~~~~~~~~ Taglist: @mochinek0 @justafanwarrior @abrx2002 @ranger-gothamite @fantasiame @moonystars14 @mochegato @bigbeautifulandfullofsugar @maribat-is-lifeblood @iglowinggemma28 @miraculous-ninja @talutah0 @vixen-uchiha @danielslilangel @witchsblackfox @pawsitivelymiraculous @lizziejay @marinettepotterandplagg @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @dast218 @sassakitty @miyla-lokidottir @lilkymilky @tazanna-blythe @tired-butterfly @lozzybowe @smolplantmum @queencommonsense @loopingtangent @chez-pezeater @paintedhope7 @technicallyburninggarden @meme991001 @wannajointhecrabcult @melicmusicmagic @trippingovermyfeet @greatcatblaze @fidget-eep @miraculouslydumb @iamablinkmarvelarmy @laurcad123 @hauntedwintersweets @fc-studios @fusser90 @madking-warqueen @buginetye @little-lady-bird @thebooki3h @iamabrownfox @galla02006 @syrencall @gimpedmercy

[voiceless-terror]

TMA Fic Plans for Early 2021

Mostly making this for my own organization, but also so anyone who’s willing to yell at me via messaging or inbox can help me brainstorm and have some input on what they’re interested in! I will be finishing my long fic from this year, of course, but this is mostly for new work and continuations. It also doesn’t include prompts I have in my inbox, which I’ll be filling as the inspiration strikes me. This will be long, so I’m putting it under a read more. Without further ado, here we go!

Long Fic:

Archivist Sasha AU: Sasha gets the Archivist job. Martin and Tim are her assistants. Trouble is, it’s just...archiving. She has no experience, and Gertrude left no roadmap- honestly, she thought it would be a bit more sinister than this. Instead, she’s getting a crash course in archiving through various internet sites and filing away debunked cases. A nice pay raise, fairly boring work. 

But then she finds a tape.

Clearly the ravings of a madwoman, and yet...Sasha’s got her suspicions. She’s done time in Artefact Storage, she knows what’s out there. Maybe it’s time to look beyond the Archives.

Jon’s in this too, you know I can’t write a fic without him. But he’s just a researcher. A researcher they were friendly with, when he actually showed up. Always out sick, always looking worse for wear. Poor guy. And yet Elias always gave him the most interesting cases, all the special assignments. Sasha doesn’t know what he sees in him. Maybe he can help her out.

This is in the rough, early stages. I’ve been throwing it at several people just to order my thoughts while I’m figuring out where it’s going. If anyone is interested, I appreciate all of the brainstorming juice I can get, even if we haven’t spoken before xD A fresh pair of eyes never hurt!

Series/One Shots:

Ghost Hunt UK: Martin Blackwood needs a job. After more than a few failed attempts, he finds his answer in a shitty ad for a camera person/production assistant. He can fake that, right? How hard can it be?

This is the Jon and Melanie Ghost Hunt UK series I’ve always been threatening to do, but I’ve actually started outlining and writing a lot more. Jon, Melanie and Georgie all live together in a surprisingly workable arrangement. Tim and Sasha are their production crew. And Martin dives right in the deep end. Melanie/Georgie and Jon/Martin, with an eye towards Jon/Martin/Tim/Sasha.

ADHD Jon Adventures: Got a few more ideas for this one, mostly smaller in-universe one shots. Always appreciate anyone willing to talk headcanons for this one.

   - Early precanon snapshot, Jon and Tim and Sasha’s background in research, maybe looking into a case

   - Tim and Jon decide to make a new filing system for the Archives. What will  these two ADHD kings get up to? Pure, ridiculous chaos.

   - Martin and Jon early friendship/relationship! Getting to know one another, trying to navigate their new relationship. Might be multi-chapter.

Truth or Dare: Got one more planned in this series, unless inspiration strikes. Might cover the wedding if I’m feeling it.

    - Tim thinks Martin and Jon both deserve their own stag-do. Trouble is, they both want the other to attend. Cue shenanigans.

Prompt weeks/events: Last but certainly not least! I’m going to try to participate in, or at least plan a work or two for the following events! The prompts are available on all the tumblr event pages, but if anyone has any thoughts on their favorites, feel free to give me a holler.

  - Aspec Archives

  - Mspec Jon Week

  - JonPeter Week

  - Gerry Week (which I’m helping run with the lovely Zyka and Geo!!)

Other Ideas: Forgot to put these in the original! But I’m currently in the brainstorming phase for a Jon/Gerry/Agnes series, and also and Archives QPR.

Anyway, if you stuck around this long, thanks for reading. Quite a mouthful (eyeful? idk). This list is by no means a promise (thought I hope to do a lot of it) or complete. I’m sure I’ll get more ideas as the year goes on. But I like to throw out some feelers anyway, and I love making new friends, so here you go! <3

[welcome-to-the-gay-bar]

So I we started to watch Attack on Titan again after many years and I’ve just finished season two and before starting season three I wanted to take a trip down memory lane and look at all my old favourite AOT fan fictions from 2014 (and see what’s popular nowadays that I may have missed, since wow, a lot has changed since I was last present in this fandom and compared to what’s happening in the current episodes season one was tame).

I’ve noticed a huge divide between fanon and canon and I kinda wanted to ruminate on this a bit.

Eren’s character in the show isn’t my favourite. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still fond of this brash idiot, but he’ll never be my favourite. He falls into this shonen protagonist trope of being hot headed and ill tempered. He doesn’t take advice, he’s not going to listen to plans or authority, he always thinks he’s right and only follows his moral compass, and to tie it all up he’s not even that strong. He can’t back up the threats that he’s laying down and yet he always rushes into situations with fists flying and never thanks or appreciates the characters (Mikasa) that get him out of those tricky situations. The only way to get through to him is to physically beat him down and even then it may not work if he hadn’t already somewhat respected you (Mikasa again). This character type is seen so often in shonen and I’m really not a fan, I like the cool and calculating protagonist better. Someone who has the power behind their threats and doesn’t rush into situations. Again, I like Eren, but I think it’s the other characters in the show that balance him out and the plot itself that makes me like Attack on Titan.

Compare this to fanon where his default character is happy ray of sunshine who’s a little bit naive. It’s a rather jarring comparison but I also don’t necessarily dislike it either. To me canon and fanon characteristics are almost completely seperate. If I had to always think a d compare fan fiction to canon I probably couldn’t read it. I read about happy fanon Eren and see canon angry Eren and to me they are two completely different characters - two completely different people even. If I had to read fan fiction about canon Eren I can 1000000% say that I just wouldn’t. I couldn’t. I’d be totally bored. As I said before, I like Eren but it’s the people around him and the plot itself that makes him bearable. I can watch a show about him because it takes less time and emotional energy, but I couldn’t invest in reading a book about him (which is why I haven’t read the manga either).

This isn’t even exclusively towards Attack on Titan. Back in my Teen Wolf phase I noticed how different canon and fanon characters were. Small secret - I was knee deep in the Teen Wolf fandom before I realised that I hadn’t actually watched an episode of Teen Wolf. One of my mutual’s reblogged TW artwork that was linked to a story and from that I never looked back. When I actually did get around to watching TW I can honestly say I was more than a wee bit disillusioned. Derek and Stiles are obviously not the main characters and I was prepared for that, but then they barely interacted, and when they did interact it was nothing like what I had read about - nothing like what their fanon characters or interactions were like. I can honestly say that I never made it past the first season - the show just wasn’t for me - but I was still thoroughly invested in the fandom for another year or two.

Something about fanon Sterek dynamics just did it for me, their characters and relationship was just so on point for what I wanted, and this is kind of when I came to accept that canon and fanon can be so different that it almost feels as if it’s two pieces of completely different media. I mean, fanon has its own set of rules, it’s own character tropes and story arcs that even completely different authors with completely different stories somewhat instinctively know to follow. I think that’s amazing, but it’s also a double edged sword. See these first two examples were of shows that I A) never watched/finished before reading fan fiction, B) don’t necessarily love love the characters in canon. That means that fanon is more appealing because it takes something I don’t care too strongly for and changes it to something more appealing. But what about when fanon takes something I love and cherish and remoulds it?

I want to briefly take this time to talk about something I’ve dubbed “the twink affect”. When you take a character that’s originally strong willed, self sufficient, and somewhat masculine and you pair the, up with someone EVEN MORE strong willed, self sufficient, and masculine - the “Alpha male” of characters if you will. I find that fanon is incapable of seeing two strong men together in a relationship and will eventually slowly twinkify one of them. Make them smaller, softer, lonelier, less self sufficient and more reliant on others, they need to be taken care of, they’re now a ball of sunshine that’s radiant and joyful, they’re cotton candy that melts on your tongue. You put them next to the pairing you ship them with and instead of seeing two strong men you see a bear and a twink. That’s definitely what’s happened to the two characters/pairings mentioned before and I honestly didn’t mind because I wasn’t protective of the source material, but when it does happen to a character I love it’s the most frustrating thing in the world, and I can’t even complain because I’ve already reaped the benefits from other fandoms. (I am going to complain though, this is my blog and I can do what I want mum.)

I’m going to talk about Mo Dao Zu Shi. Beautiful story that I love in (almost) all its various adaptations, but I’ve noticed the ever slow changing of fanon’s Wei Wuxian. For anyone reading this that hasn’t read MDZS (or if anyone’s reading this at all, I am expecting to just be shouting into the void at this point) Wei Wuxian dies - not a spoiler, it happens at the very beginning of the story - and comes back to life in the body of Mo Xuanyu. Mo Xuanyu is small malnourished and twinky - he even canonically wears makeup (or at least has it in his possession, I’m getting the various adaptations confused and I can’t remember if in canon Wei Wuxian woke up in Mo Xuanyu’s body already wearing the makeup or if he just finds the tin of makeup in Mo Xuanyu’s possessions). Wei Wuxian’s character is also a bit of a tease, and now he’s alive and unburdened by the past he’s much freer now than he was in the past, couple that with the fact that he’s pretending to be Mo Xuanyu (a character who is rumoured to be gay and also a bit insane) he goes all out in pretending to be a shameless flirt, and it’s honestly hilarious, I love his character. So in a sense he has all the makings of a canon twink and I’m really not here to shame on those who portray him that way while he’s in Mo Xuanyu’s body.

My personal issue is with the same extreme twink portrayal while he’s in his original body. In his original body Wei Wuxian is BUFF. He’s hunky, he’s in the top five most eligible bachelors, he’s *car honks* woof woof bark bark *whistles* puurrrr, he’s one of the most powerful cultivators of his generation, he’s a genius too. He’s hunky. He still has the cheeky shameless character, but when you compare him to the male lead Lan Wangji, they’re about the same size and strength. My favourite type of fan fiction in MDZS is fix it/everybody lives nobody dies/no war/etc etc. Basically stories where Wei Wuxian keeps his original body. The fanon twink portrayal of him being so small and soft and weak while in canon he’s one of the strongest and smartest urks me in ways I can’t explain. It’s not what I want, not what I’m looking for. I love him for who he is in canon and to see his character so distorted by fans of the original work is frustrating. I just want to read about Wei Wuxian as a jock with his equally buff and tall nerd boyfriend.

I want to pause here and say that I have nothing against authors that write him in a twinky way, I respect your work and your characters (and as I said before I’ve reaped the benefits of other fandoms twinky character portrayals numerous times), if I read a fic that I’m not happy with the characterisation I just close the tab and move on so absolutely no hate to anyone who enjoys this character type. I’m just ruminating on the fact that I’ve been seeing it happen more and more often lately to the point where I’ve kind of bounced the fandom and am sticking to other works like Scum Villain that haven’t yet twinkified too much (there will always be one or two stories in every fandom that twinkify and honestly? I respect that. Authors said twink rights ONLY, good for them).

Mo Dao Zu Shi isn’t the only fandom I’ve been in that I’ve negatively reacted to fanon. Another one would be Batman (I love Tim with all my heart and I love him getting treated nicely but damn I sometimes wish people would remember how freaking strong and amazing he is too), 2Ha is another I’ve started to see “twinkified” (although I don’t mind seeing Chu Wanning being soft and taken care of, he is canonically called handsome and masculine and he’s quite tall too), I’ve even seen the canonically “top” character (and that seems so weird to write oml) be twinkified by fandom because they want to see him get bottomed for ~equal rights~ because apparently bottoming is seen as a “woman’s position” to them and they’re trying to be woke by switching the sexual positions up but failing to see how misogynistic and homophobic that take is (imma stop myself here because that a WHOLE ‘nother can or worms to be opened right there).

What I’m trying to say is fanon is a double edged sword and I’ve definitely enjoyed some and hated some. I think it’s important to seperate the two. I do think it’s annoying for fandoms to be flooded with mischaracterisation when you actually do like the original characters and I wish there was some way to seperate fandom into “actual canon fans” and “fans of fanon”, but I don’t have a solution and I’ve definitely contributed to the problem in the past so for that I’m sorry.

I don’t know how to end this long ass rant, I don’t know what the goal was in writing this, but taadaa ~ here’s my exceptionally long take on fanon.

[greylunar]

I have a house lore question. Would you agree that Gryffindors and Ravenclaws tend to be more ideologically motivated and that Slytherins and Hufflepuffs tend to be more... personally motivated? Not sure I am phrasing this right but basically: Gryffindor/Ravenclaw: This is my cause, I believe in it. Slytherin/Hufflepuff: This is my person, I believe on them. Just as a general rule, not true in every case. (1/2)

Also, Gryffindors and Slytherins are more devoted to their cause/person whereas Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws are more likely to be able to be able to reevaluate their standing with the person or cause if they feel they are no longer totally aligned with it/them. Again, just as a rule of thumb. (2/2)

I wrote an insanely long answer to this so more under the break, warning there’s a LOT of like, psychoanalysis down here and a lot of its very personal and about core aspects so like please proceed with caution and PLEASE ask me to tag if I forget something

Super weird note to start this off with but did you have an icon of a dog like two days ago because if that was you it looked like my dog and made me really happy (I love the aesthetic of this one too, A+ design)

Anyways! I do have A Lot of thoughts on this topic in particular, and I’m glad you asked because I know that my interpretation of the houses verges more into “Casper has a specific idea of the sort of personality spectrums he would align into these broad JK-based categories” than “canon” haha c: My “rule of thumb” for causes/ideologies is this:

Hufflepuff: “This is my belief.” This is what is good, what is right, what I know I should fight for and stand up for when the time comes. I will stand by this belief, because a part of me wholly excepts it as fact and uncompromising. I may, however, not always be able to stand up for this belief, as there are situations where I have to evaluate what will be the safest for me and the people I love. But you will have a Hard Time changing a hufflepuff’s mind on something they believe unless you can prove to them that its hurting people and somehow in the wrong. In that case, a new belief is formed to account for this information. Now, here’s where people (in I guess my version of house lore) tend to misjudge hufflepuffs. If one of their People repeatedly acts against their fundamental beliefs, they will either A) fail to remain one of that hufflepuff’s People and get dropped from that sort of list or B) just,,, badger them with facts/reasoning/their opinion until either the hufflepuff changes their mind or they change the Hufflepuff. (Side note, but on how Puffs handle ending relationships of any kind with folks: Hufflepuffs tend to,,, ‘ghost’ toxic people because of their uncompromisable nature on these very core beliefs. A hufflepuff will often give someone a thousand and one second chances until they realize that person either refuses to or is completely unable to accommodate one of their core definitions of good/justice/kindness/personhood and then usually hufflepuffs just kinda bounce. They often struggle with conflict in an overarching sense and, to put it in a Puff’s terms for avoiding a person they couldn’t handle being around anymore “Damn, wish I could just like, disappear into the woods in Oregon somewhere and get a dog and not have to think about this and my friend Tim could make a true crime podcast about having known me.” This is normally a MOMENTOUSLY hard decision for a Puff (i mean yall get it its the house of loyalty) but its very key that Hufflepuffs don’t align themselves with people, they align themselves with beliefs or personal truths. When push comes to shove, the loyalty a Puff has is often to the concept of goodness and kindness and the Concept of People rather than clinging to a specific individual if they directly oppose those beliefs)

Slytherins: “This is my person/these are my people.” Slytherins are a house of change, and their belief systems are mostly fluid (often based on social rules, for example, “I know people don’t like it or get hurt when these types of things are said, so I will now no longer say things like this from now on” OR alternatively “I am Very Aware that acting like this makes people vaguely unnerved, and I Am Choosing To Act Like This Continuously because I am using it to separate myself from others/people deserve it/god wouldn’t that be hilarious”). Slytherins don’t have a lot of ‘fundamental beliefs’ in a way that at least they would refer to as fundamental beliefs, our lovely snake friends often struggle with knowing themselves and defining themselves rigidly enough to label them like that. In a,,, slightly depressing note some common ones are “I have to earn my worth” and “other people deserve more than me.” Hey Slytherins, I don’t remember where I heard this, but worth is a capitalist concept fed to you by corporations and you are inherently human and therefore loved and important and deserve the world. That all said, what Slytherins do not waiver from their people. Slytherin friends will text you three years after you last talked because you posted something vaguely sad on Instagram and they wanna make sure you’re good. Slytherin partners and friends will love you with all of them, the whole of their being. If someone is mean to me, my Slytherin friends will end them, and I have to be like “bro I’m not even mad, you’re being mad for me.” Slytherins don’t ghost their People, they will drag your ass through the mud until you are healthy or By God They Will Fist Fight Your Mental Illness Themselves. In this way, Slytherins are a lot like Hufflepuffs. The problem lies in when Slytherins find they don’t have any more belief or energy left in their stores to drag themselves up too. Perhaps now is the time to realize you should be one of the People you will fight for too.

Gryffindors: “This is my cause/this is a fact” I’m not going to touch too much on the “here is my ten-step plan to save the world, step one is I Do It” Gryffindors, because I think we’re all familiar with that concept of them. Again, Gryffindors will join the Peace Corps, hufflepuffs will give the person who needs cash twenty dollars if they see them, its a scope thing. What I want to dive into with Gryffindors is the Stubborn Bastard Energy that we know and love them for (I do legitimately mean that as a compliment). Gryffindors RARELY and I’m talking Borderline Never bend or leave behind a fundamental belief once they’ve established it. Gryffs often assume that these beliefs are inherent, they would not be themselves if they were not Certain about this, and therefore that certainty is essential to who they are. Therefore Gryffs deal in personal truths, or things they have decided are facts, pillars that do not change. You will want to punch your Gryffindor best friend sometimes because they put something in their head when they were six because of what someone on the playground said and now they live by that and sometimes physically struggle with processing contradictory information. This can be great, if a Gryff internalizes something like “I should do no harm” or “I will Fight A Bully” but has more frustrating consequences when its something like “If someone does something bad they are irredeemable, and I should never again respect them.” For Gryffs, sometimes the best thing to ask yourself is “wait, Why do I think that, and are there any cases that are exceptions to these rules.” But fundamentally, Gryffs often are the ones to save the world because they already believe it is a fact that they will, and that they should.

Ravenclaws: “This is complicated/This should be seen from all sides” and THEN “I’m about to end this mans whole career over this” Ravenclaws are such a fun house for this question. Ravenclaws often have a sort of information gathering stage before they even consider the idea of having an opinion in their head. Ravenclaws want to make sure they know everything they can about a cause/an issue/a person before they make that Final Call of verbalizing or standing by something, because a very serious fundamental fear for Ravenclaws is being embarrassed. I don’t mean to minimize that or invalidate it in anyway, a lot of Ravenclaws would rather be dropped in a pit of [insert distasteful creature here} than have the shame in their minds of being caught on the wrong side of an argument, without all the facts, or unprepared for a thorough discussion. Ravenclaws in this information gathering stage will often say things like “I’m not sure to be honest, I haven’t looked into it that much” or even “I don’t really like to have opinions on matters like that because I don’t think I could ever know enough to represent what I should correctly.” THAT SAID. That’s phase one. But y’all if a Ravenclaw Decides, even without acknowledging they have, a Raven Decides. From anything from “this 18th century poet was a lesbian and you simply will not convince me I’m wrong, here is a list of reasons why I’m right” to “So Determinism exists, and I fundamentally believe that, I am fascinated on what you think about Free Will though,” Ravenclaws are the probably the most complex on this subject inherently because of how much they want to make sure they know the truth. Ravenclaws will re-evaluate their beliefs, but if the information you’re bringing to the table isn’t valid enough to hold up against their previous evidence, there’s not a whole lot you’ll be able to do about it. Ravens will struggle if asked to take a stance before this phase though, so friends, please remember that no one is ever going to remember if you raised your hand and said something a little less intelligent in high school English than you would have liked other than you. It is more than okay for you to forget that too.

[much-obliged-timothy]

Whumptober #5

Borderlands - #5 - Failed Escape

*

Ember put a hand on Timothy’s bouncing leg. “Calm yourself, Timothy.”

“I am calm.” He gripped his drink tighter. “Totally calm. Never been calmer in my miserable freaking life.”

“You’re getting out tonight,” she said, voice low and comforting. “It’ll all be over. He won’t be able to hurt you anymore.” 

Tim wasn’t sure he believed that. It felt like Jack would be able to hurt him no matter where he went.

But he couldn’t do this anymore. He was tired of killing people. Tired of losing himself to Jack. Tired of being beaten because he wouldn’t give up the last of his morality. 

Jack had sent him to the casino as a “reward” for helping him rise to power. After branding him, of course. 

But now Tim was expected to rule with the same cruel streak Jack showed on Helios. He was responsible for killing whoever needed to be killed, beating whoever needed to be beaten, and keeping the other doppelgangers in line. 

Maybe he could never wash all this blood off his hands. But he didn’t have to add anymore, either.

So when the Guardian Angel offered to help him escape, he jumped at the chance. She’d noticed his hesitations in his work, and taken note of how much more often he was being beaten for refusing to comply with his orders. 

She’d reached out to him one night, promising him she could get in touch with Athena and get Timothy out. And now, tonight was the night.

“What about you?” Tim said, turning to Ember.

“I’m fine,” she assured, squeezing his leg. “I am a flame they cannot extinguish. Get out while you have the chance, Timothy. I fear you won’t survive if you stay here much longer.” She smiled at him, that fierce, confident smile of hers that he cherished. “We will find each other again. I promise.” 

He placed his hand over hers and nodded, wishing desperately that he could have her confidence. He just had to hang on to his nerve a bit longer.

“Finish your drink. You need it,” she said.

He did just that, and ordered a second, downing that one just as quickly. Ember pushed the glass away from him before he could opt for a third, and shook her head at him.

“Timothy?”

Angel’s voice, in his head. Timothy jerked in surprise, fully aware he’d never get used to this.

“It’s time. I’ve disabled the bomb Jack had in you, and Athena has a ship waiting for you in docking bay 32,” she said. “You’ll say you’re going for a surprise inspection of the new arrivals, and she’ll get you out of there before anyone realizes what’s happening. I’ll keep communications down between the casino and Helios for as long as I can to give you a chance to get away before Jack can pursue you. The rest is up to you and Athena, but she assured me she has a safe place to take you.”

Tim swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Right. Got it. Uh, thanks, Angel.”

“Don’t thank me until it’s over,” she said quietly, and then she was gone. 

“It’s time,” Tim said, shaking as he stood up.

Ember got up and put a warm hand on his arm. “Be brave, Timothy. You deserve a life of freedom.” Her hand moved up to his mask. “You are more than your face.” 

“If anything good came out of this mess, it was you.” He paused, then groaned. “And with that, I leave off on the lamest, cheesiest note.” He reached up to touch her hand. “Thank you, Ember.”

“Until next time,” she said, slowly pulling her hand away, and leaving him with one last smile.

Tim reluctantly walked away from her, towards the docking bay. He tried to keep his head up and slip into his usual facade, but his hands trembled and he had to shove them in his pockets.

Jack wouldn’t just let him get away. He’d hunt him down. He’d punish Tim for betraying him like this. 

But Tim couldn’t stay here. Ember was right; he’d die if he did. 

So he took a deep breath and entered the docking bay. Ships were flying in and out, employees moving about busily to keep everything organized.

“Handsome Jack,” an employee greeted, coming up to him. “We weren’t expecting any of you in the docking bay for another two hours.”

“Surprise inspections. Boss’s orders,” Tim said. “21-C reporting.” 

“Yes sir,” the employee said, taking out his ECHO. “I’ve just sent you a list of arriving ships.”

“Awesome. Get back to work,” Tim said, striding forward.

His heart slammed in his chest and his trembling grew worse as he approached docking bay 32 and the ship stationed there. Athena was on that ship, ready to take him away from this life.

He stepped up to the ship and swallowed hard as he banged his fist on the door. “Open up. Surprise inspection.”

The door slid open and Tim slipped inside and shut it. The ship was rumbling with power, still turned on, ready to leave in an instant.

“Athena?” he said.

“Here,” her voice said from the cockpit. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes,” Tim said, slumping back against the door. “Get me the hell out of here. Jack’s a total psychopath. I’m done with all this shit.” He clenched his fists, thinking of Ember’s smile. “I’m leaving. For good.”

“Then come on. Let’s go,” she said.

He walked up to the seat, relief flooding through him. “Thank you. I-”

He froze as he reached the seat. Horror washed over him.

It wasn’t Athena sitting there.

Nisha casually aimed a gun at his head, an ECHO in her lap. “Satisfied, Jack?”

“I knew he was planning to leave!” Jack’s angry voice came from the ECHO. “He’s been disobeying me more and more often. Bring him back to Helios. He’s right; he’s done.”

Tim took a step back, slowly raising his hands. “What- But-”

“We had recordings of Athena’s voice.” Nisha stood up and whipped her pistol against his head, dropping him to his knees as his vision wavered. “No one was ever going to come get you out. But you were never very bright.”

She bound his wrists and ankles, and the ship took off, heading for Helios. Tim laid there, blood dripping down the side of his face and shock stealing everything from him.

He might’ve passed out. The next thing he knew, Nisha was hauling him upright, and dragging his uncooperative form off the ship.

She pulled him through the halls of Helios, until they had reached Jack’s office. Once inside, she threw him on the ground, looking smug as Jack came to tower over him. 

Jack kicked him in the face, and Tim cried out as he felt the force of it break his nose. Jack knelt down, gripping a handful of his hair and yanking his head up so he could glare at Tim.

“I knew you were going to bail,” he said. “Now that I’ve confirmed you’re a traitor, I don’t have use for you anymore. And after I gave you a sweet position at the casino, too.”

“But...Angel…” Tim said weakly.

“I’m sorry, Timothy.” Her voice in his head again, sad. “He made me trick you. If I hadn’t, he was going to torture you by killing everyone you cared about on the casino, as well as your mother. I thought...I thought this was the best choice. I’m so sorry.”

Her choked up voice didn’t phase him. Only Jack’s glare and his sadistic grin did.

He wasn’t going to keep that promise to see Ember again. He’d seen her smile for the last time. And some part of him was grateful it was him instead of her. Another part of him despised the moment he signed up for this job and damned himself.

It was always going to end this way. One way or another, he knew he was going to die like this. Slowly, painfully, full of regrets.

“Jack,” he said weakly.

“The time for begging is over, kiddo.” Jack pat his cheek gently. “I gave you a chance. You wasted it.”

He pulled out a knife. Tim knew it was pointless, but he tried to scramble away, only for Jack to tighten his hold.

Because he was Jack’s. Even in death, he was Jack’s.

Timothy Lawrence screamed, but it did not save him.

You can read my other Timothy Lawrence fics on AO3 here! 

[gothamincarnate]

REDBREAST: UTRH/HUSH AU

“Don’t mind that bird.  It just lays in the middle of my tunnel. The stupid thing is gone and dead!” exclaimed the mole. Thumbelina was filled with sadness at the sight of the beautiful ROBIN REDBREAST lying in the middle of the dirty tunnel. She covered the meek animal as much she could.

She wept quietly and hugged the bird.  Suddenly she could hear the bird’s heartbeat. Ba bump!  Ba buMP!  BA BUMP!  

It was a low, dull, quick sound –much such a sound as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton.

Jason Todd has crawled from his grave in the back acre of Wayne Manor, there is no pit, no brain damage, he is simply alive.

And then I flew back home, but the window was barred, for my father had forgotten all about me, and there was another little boy sleeping in my bed!

His father didn’t learn from his mistakes, had brought one even younger than him to be hung by the bloodied yellow cape.

In panic and pain he recreates his death. A fake hostage with gory, visceral theater makeup mimicking his old wounds. The hostage taunts Batman, slipping out as the timer counts down on the dynamite. A father trapped inside, realizing he’s failed again.

Batman survives, somehow. Survives where Jason hadn’t. Maybe if Robin’s uniform had the same heavy kevlar, he could have. He hadn’t done enough to protect Jason, had he?

Well, Redbreast had planned for that. He is going up against Batman, he knew it would be a long game. Enjoys it, the panic he sees build as the weeks stretch on.

There’s whispers of a man named Redbreast working on uniting the rogues into something stronger, more unified and dangerous. But Bat’s efforts are met with red herrings and carefully written lines that the rogues spit back perfectly. Is Robin truly returned from the grave?

Phase two: Watch the bat soar around in circles, picking up breadcrumbs that have been left. Other rogues play their parts, tormenting him in whatever ways they feel fit.

Clayface plays the role of the second Robin, leading Bruce down alleyways, into the sewers past the Deacon’s old hideout, up to the streets, leading him to a fourth story balcony.

-Did he fall, or was he pushed?

-Guess I spooked him. He slipped.

Batman’s body is still and broken, replaying at least a fraction of the pain Jason had gone through. The ghost-Robin stays with Batman, talking to him as he comes in and out of consciousness. As reinforcements arrive, Robin runs. As Bruce is loaded in the Bat mobile, he tells Oracle that he’d seen Jason, he really had, it was him!

Bruce is taken to the hospital, patched up by a team of surgeons, including Dr. Elliot..

Then, bang, a loose end tied up, Hush has been quieted forever. Redbreast sets Joker lose, stages Dr. Elliot’s body nearby. If Batman won’t kill for Jason, for Barbara, for his children, maybe he’ll kill for his old childhood friend.

Jason watches nearby. Bruce is angry, nearly feral. He comes close. His gauntlets are bloodied and he’s angry and Jason feels something hopeful swell up in his chest. Joker’s going to die. Finally, it’ll be over.

Then Gordon intervenes, stopping Bruce. Damnit. Nearly isn’t good enough.

He’d had a different final act in mind. Simply showing up at the Manor and telling Bruce everything. Spoiling the mystery for the great detective. Ask to come home if Bruce had killed Joker. Ask Bruce to leave him the hell alone if the clown’s still alive.

Jason hadn’t wanted to get Tim involved. This wasn’t his fight. This was Bruce’s fault, for letting the kid think that Robin was safe. For continuing to think it was okay for a child to be in such violent situations without the proper protection, guidance, teamwork. Tim is just an idealistic kid, just like Jason was. Had been, once. Maybe he still was, but it was buried deep.

Bruce’s fault, for leaving the little bird alone. It had been simple to knock him out and nab him. See, he wasn’t trained well enough.

He held the kid hostage alongside Joker, though Joker was restrained enough Jason didn’t have to worry about a repeat.

Jason wasn’t going to hurt him. Not going to beat up a kid. But Batman didn’t know that. Tim didn’t know that. Well, not at first. Jason had tried to keep up the tough guy act, but then Tim had started freaking out, so Redbreast dialed back on the rage. He’d been an abused kid, he knew what it was like.

He lets Tim keep the communicator, destroys the tracker. Let Bruce hear the panic in the replacements voice, the Joker laughing in the background. Then Jason pulls his own mask off, keels down and tells Tim to deliver a message.

Tell Bruce the good news: His son’s back. And if Tim wants to keep breathing, Batman needs to come get him.

It takes a while, which is funny because they’re camped out in the old Todd residence, it shouldn’t have been that difficult. Jason Todd doesn’t touch a hair on Robin’s head. However, in his boredom he drags Joker to the former bedroom and beats the hell out of the clown.

“Maybe he’s abandoned you too, kid.” Maybe Redbreast is going to have a Robin of his own to look after, bring in from the cold. Not that he’s going to force the kid to join him, but where else is Robin going to go after being abandoned by the Bat? Who else would understand that ache but Redbreast?

Phase three: the final act. Redbreast abandons the domino mask, slipping a red hood on. His killer’s face, worn to taunt and ruin and upset his father. Look at what you’ve made me become.

Then Bruce trips a proximity alarm. Jason meets him a few blocks away. They fight, because Jason needs to show Bruce how strong he is after everything he’s suffered, how much Batman failed him as Robin. Bloody and bruised, he leads Batman back home, jumping through the window. By the time Bruce follows, Jason has unmasked himself. There’s a batarang held at Tim’s neck. Joker is tied to a chair.

Kill Joker, or kill Tim. And even if Bruce decides on Jason, he’d have to pray Jason goes down fast enough to keep from slitting the bird’s throat. It’s too risky, Jason knows it. Bruce knows it.

Of course Bruce is going to pick his new bird over Jason’s pain. He hasn’t killed Joker yet, but now he will. And that hurts, but the end result is the same. Joker’s still going to die.

He doesn’t give Bruce a gun. He gives him a crowbar and an explosive. He gives Bruce a choice, all these wonderful toys that had killed his son. With the state Joker’s in, it won’t take more than a few swings to finally finish him.

YOU HAVE TO DECIDE. YOU ALREADY LET ONE ROBIN DIE, YOU WANNA GO FOR TWO?

Bruce goes for the explosion, two charges planted on Joker. They’re small, one against his stomach and the other nestled against the atlas/axis vertebra.

There’s blood on Tim’s face, even as Redbreast had mercifully covered the boy’s eyes. The kid screams, Bruce is– utterly horrified. He drops the detonater and takes a step back.

Redbreast, true to his word, wipes the blood off Robin’s cheek with his glove and lets him go. Tim rushes to Batman, embracing him, half standing behind him. Redbreast stumbles back, and Bruce is saying something but he can’t hear it.

The explosion flashes in his vision and rings in his ears and, and oh man, he really didn’t think this through.

He’s not going to be allowed back home, he knows that. Sees it in the revulsion on his father’s face. He’d made him kill. Not just Batman, but Bruce. He’d broken him, taken his father and twisted him.

Jason turns and runs.

[purplesurveys]

1018

When was the last time you were in pain? Did you take a painkiller? Last Saturday when I stubbed my toe and it made my nailbed bleed. Nah, I just dabbed tissue on it and covered it up a Band-Aid. It didn’t really need one, but I placed one anyway so that I didn’t have to see the cut.

What was the last question that someone else asked you? I was showing my mom some photos of the typhoon’s aftermath in our city and she was asking me where exactly one of the photos was taken. It’s honestly so bad over here rn and I feel kinda guilty for taking surveys when so much of the city still has chest-deep flood...but this is the one thing keeping me from going insane while we still don’t have electricity and internet at home, so.

Do you recall what you were doing last time 7pm came around? Wrapping up work, watching the newest episode of Good Mythical Morning, and was also probably looking for a survey to answer.

What was the last thing you consumed, that tasted sweet? Churros with chocolate dip.

Do you know who Mr Blobby is, or have you ever heard of him? I have never heard of it. Them? Him?

Have you ever befriended someone named Tom? What is/was he like? I don’t think so. I’ve never heard of a Tom where I live. I know Tims though, lol.

Does your father have any hobbies? What are they? He loves cars and motorcycles, and I also always catch him watching compilations of dumb vehicular accidents. He’s also into the latest gadgets and I know he’s been wanting a drone for ages now.

Name a food you enjoy, that starts with the same letter as your surname. Curry. :)

What did the last face mask you wore look like? I always wear those thin plain blue disposable ones because they are light and breathable. < Yeah, same. My mom buys boxes of these all the time so this kind is my only choice, really. I never minded it though.

Do you enjoy any songs by The Pet Shop Boys? The name is familiar and I probably know one or two songs of theirs that I enjoy, but I just can’t place any at the moment.

Is there a specific song that you always request at parties? What is it? Eh, not really. I let other people take over the music. Sometimes my friends will request Paramore for me hehehehe and it’s always nice when everyone ends up enjoying whatever song by them is played. But I’m personally often too shy myself to do the requesting because I’m scared it’ll turn out to be a flop. 

Have you ever read 'The Railway Children?' Did you like it? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that.

What was the last thing someone said or did, that made you chuckle? So we have a card game at home wherein each card has a certain category and the game is simply a race to come up with an example under that category. So for example if the game master pulls out a card that says ‘fruit,’ you wanna be the first person to yell apple or orange or something. Anyway, my family pulled it out again because of the current power outage, and while we were playing earlier my mom excitedly yelled “CEREAL” when the category was “breakfast cereal.” All of us died laughing.

Have you ever met anyone named Joyce? What is/was she like? I know multiple people whose second name is Joyce, but I dunno anyone who has that as their main name or preferred nickname.

Who was the last relative you visited? My grandma. Needed to pick up the box of revel bars that my uncle had made for my mom.

Does anyone close to you have blue eyes? Nah, especially not in this part of the world. Who was the last person you messaged on social media? Andrew. He was simply checking up on me because our city is one of the hardest-hit areas of the typhoon so far.

^ Do you know when their birthday is? June or July 20something...I can’t remember at the moment.

Is there anyone you love, whose name starts with H? Hmm Hannah is a good friend of mine, and I guess I can say I love her, sure.

Do you own a hairdryer? What color is it? Yeah, pink. I’ve since given it to my sister since she needed a hairdryer in her dorm, but it was originally a gift for me.

What CDs do you have in your car, if any? I don’t keep CDs in my car anymore. If I wanted to listen to my music, I just link my Spotify to the stereo via Bluetooth.

One hour from now, what time will it be? 4:35 PM.

{found @ pinkchocolate}

--

When you woke up today, did you find unread messages from anyone? Yeah, because I still talk to my ex like a dumbass. Did the last message you received contain any emojis? No, Angela didn’t use any. Have you recently told anyone that you miss them? Yeah, I said it to Hans today because he messaged me for the first time since my birthday this year. Are you wearing a scrunchie in your hair today? What color? Not right now. I used my hairtie to tie up the bag of chips I wasn’t able to finish earlier, so unless I finish that up soon I won’t be able to tie my hair up in a ponytail for a while haha. Have you sent or received any friend requests on Facebook lately? Yuh, the people I interned with - Angel, Justine, and Bianca - added me on there recently. My cousin Maggie also made an account and added me. Can you recall the last time you turned down an offer, of any kind? My mom offered me the last churro earlier because she knows I love them, but I didn’t feel like eating anymore so I let her have it. What was the last film that you saw for the first time? I’m Thinking of Ending Things. ^ Did you enjoy it? I had a hard time with it, especially with the last 20 or so minutes; and it was the first time I found myself struggling with a Charlie Kaufman work. I wouldn’t say I didn’t enjoy it, though. I guess I just found it a little too complex, and films that make me THINK think are generally a hit-or-miss for me. Which swear word did you utter most recently? Probably fuck or a local swear word. ^ Was it because you were annoyed in some way? A little bit, yeah. My phone’s adapter was missing for a few moments. Do you ever find the smell of your pets’ food unpleasant? No. We feed them the same things we eat, so it would be kind of odd to call that unpleasant. When was the last time you reheated leftovers? Tuesday. It was a burger I failed to finish over the weekend. What was the last thing you ate, that was from a bakery? Can’t even remember the last time we ordered from a bakeshop...a pandesal is my best guess, but I can barely remember the last time I had one of those. Which fruit would you say you eat the most often? Haaaaaaaaaaaa. Is there a lake close to where you live? Nope. There’s a river, though. What was the last song you recall singing along to? Broken-Hearted Girl by Beyoncé. Have you uploaded any photos to social media today? Of what? No. Literally everyone has been posting photos of their flooded houses and neighborhoods all day, and it’d be insensitive to post pics of my otherwise (fortunately) normal and relatively unaffected neighborhood or some other type of photo. Are you in the process of reading a book? Which one? Nope.  ^ Are you enjoying it? - How recently did you charge the battery on your mobile phone? This morning, but I had to charge from my car because no electricity. I have to do it again, actually – my phone’s barely hanging on at 9%. Is there anyone you interact with every day, on social media? Yeah, my co-workers. In my new job, I’ll have to communicate with Ysa, Bea, and Steffi the most as I was placed in their team. What do you typically do to unwind at the end of the day? Watching the new episode of Good Mythical Morning and GMMore. Sometimes I’ll watch some wrestling too.

{found @ pinkchocolate}

--

Has anything fallen out of your pocket at any time recently? My vape pen. Luckily I was in my room because I would’ve been a dead daughter if it fell out in front of my parents. Do you have any books that you plan to read sometime soon? Yeah. I plan to resume Midnight Sun one of these days. It’s just a little hard at the moment because I first got it and read it during a rough phase two months ago...opening the book just brings back the memories. It’ll be a while before I’m able to dissociate from those thoughts and enjoy the book. Did anything disturb your sleep at all last night? Yes, the typhoon. The wind was loud enough to wake me up. The electricity also went out a little after midnight, so that also made it hard to fall back asleep. What kind(s) of Facebook groups are you active in, if any? Too many, but I deactivated Facebook again so it doesn’t matter. Do you enjoy any films with Judi Dench in them? Which ones? I respect her contributions as an actress but I’m generally not a fan of the films in her repertoire, so I haven’t seen any of them. I do remember wanting to check out The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, but I just never got around to it. Do you enjoy any herbal or fruit teas? What kinds? No, I don’t like tea. Are you currently wearing anything grey? Yeah, my current shirt is gray. Nice timing :) Name any object in your household that is purple. The pen on my work desk is purple. I also have a purple highlighter that I used while still in college. What was the last food item that you used your hands to eat? Churros. Have you seen anyone today that you consider to be attractive? Nope, I’ve only seen my family and even though I wouldn’t call them ugly, I don’t find them attractive in ~that way either. Do you recall what you were doing at 9:30 this morning? Trying to take a survey before realizing I wouldn’t be able to finish it because I felt a breakdown coming through. Do you use a moisturizer? What brand? No. My skin doesn’t really require lots of maintenance, so I’ve left it be for the most part. Do you currently own or use any toiletries with a fruity scent? I don’t think so. My shampoo has that original scent that just smells like...shampoo, I guess, my conditioner smells like milk, and my toothpaste is minty rather than fruity. Does anyone close to you have a beard? Dad, but he shaves it off all the time. The last time you were in your kitchen, what task(s) did you carry out? I made myself coffee. Name some pop groups that you loved as a child. Wasn’t into any as a child, but as a teenager I liked One Direction. Ok fine, as an adult too heheh Do you recall the first CD you ever owned? The High School Musical soundtrack lol Have you ever worked with anyone named Sophie? What was she like? I went to school with multiple Sophies but I never had to work with them. What terms of endearment do you mostly use when speaking to others? I use “b” or “bb” with nearly everyone, as long as it’s appropriate. Is anyone in your family currently pregnant? No. I used to think I was next, but I think I’ll be waiting a lot longer now. I don’t even know if it would still happen to me...which is sad, because I’ve always wanted a kid of my own. Do you have any specific plans for this weekend? If the typhoon subsides by this week I’ll be expecting my cross-stitch kit that I ordered online, and I can’t wait to start learning all weekend. {found @ pinkchocolate}

[superlonelypin]

A well deserved punch

-

"Nothing screams home like the polluted skies of Gotham city." Those were the first words to leave Marinette's lips as she stepped foot into the gloomy outside of the hotel her class would be staying in for their month-long class trip. She hadn't been planning on coming back to the crime-ridden city, not since her brother had died, but Ms. Bustier didn't leave much room for convincing, especially when it came to the likes of Lila and her lies but th young half Asian girl didn't let her phase her much, she kept to the positives, like being able to visit her godfather.

"Now, why would my favorite little bug have such a big frown upon her face?" The voice of her godfather breaking her out of her thoughts. She instantly turned and threw herself into the older man's arms, arms of which instantly caught the small teenager and pulled her into a hug of his own.

"Uncle Jim!" She laughed happily as he carefully began to spin around before carefully placing Marinette back down onto her feet and stepping back to get a better look at the young girl he hadn't seen in person for almost ten years.

He let out a chuckle as he pushed up his glasses. "It seems you haven't grown much since I last saw you..." Gordan had trailed off on his sentence as the all too dark memories of Marinette's last time in the city had been of her older brother's death and her adoption into the Dupain-Cheng family having gone through the court systems after two years of the French couple filing for her adoption.

Wide blue eyes took on a faraway look that could only haunt the police commissioner to his very core. He never did like seeing such a look in Marinette's beautiful blues, but it seems that such a look will always find its way back into her clear eyes.

"Come on, I did promise to stop by the precinct so everyone could say hello to you."

-

The rest of their day went by in a flash, Gordan taking Marinette to a lot of her favorite spots from when she was younger. They even dropped by and hung out with Barbra for almost a whole hour before the teenager was needed back at the hotel for dinner with her class.

"Thank you again, Uncle Jim." Jim ruffled the bluenette's hair and smiled back at her. He's forgotten the last time he's smiled as much as he has today, but he wasn't going to dwell on that, for right now he was going to focus on his goddaughter.

"It's no problem kid, and remember if you have any problems of which you informed me of with your class while here, call me up and you'll stay with me for the rest of your time here."

When the topic of the school had come up between the two, Marinette had instantly tensed up and looked down at her lap. The inner cop in Jim had nearly jumped out but he held back and waited until his goddaughter was comfortable enough to speak about it on her own terms and when she had he had expected tears, but none ever made an appearance in her blue eyes, and it had worried him, for Marinette had always been a sensitive child.

"I will, pinky promise."

The two exchanged hugs and one last goodbye before the police commissioner left the hotel lobby leaving Marinette in peaceful silence, but said silence could never last too long for the blue-eyed girl.

"I guess Mari-slut just can't stay away from men and older men at that!" The snide remark of Lila carried out through the lobby causing the crowd of French students to snicker or to look on at the Asian girl in disgust, but Marinette wasn't going to allow them to bring her down, not in her own city.

So, growing a smile and determination in her clear blue eyes, Marinette marched her way over towards the Italian Burnett and glared daggers onto her.

"Lila, that man you 'claim' to be my lover without any proof just so happens to be my godfather."

The taller Italian stepped back in surprise at the confidence that radiated from the shorter teen. The green-eyed lier hadn't expected for Marinette to even stand up to her, but it seems that being within a city as gloomy and crime-ridden as Gotham brought something out of the half Asian girl that she'd never seen before, but she wasn't about to let some goodie-two-shoes get the better of her, not now that the empire she's built within the class of dimwitted students was so strong.

The other students looked on in a daze. They didn't know whether or not to pull Lila away from the bully or to allow Lila to walk away from themselves, and before they could really step up was when Marinette spoke up.

"I'd watch your back, every one of you. We are now in my city. A city of which will kill you without any Ladybug to bring you back." And with that, the short blue-eyed girl walked away and into the elevator.

-

A few days pass, and then came the day of the Wayne Enterprise tour. The class and Lila had chosen to ignore Marinette for the time being and she couldn't be any happier for that fact. For she had more time to herself to sketch out new commissions and more free time to allow Tiki out of her purse without any interruption from anyone demanding her of assistant or accusing her of harassing Lila in some way or another.

"I'm just disappointed that Bruce had to be on a business trip." Why after two peaceful days of no lies did Lila have to start them back up and inside the very building where she was likely to make a fool of herself.

This was sure to become a disaster on its own.

"But no worries, I can set something up for you some other time Alya." Marinette rolled her eyes and sighed at her former best friend's apparent lack of a lie detector. Mr. Wayne had stated through email that he would remain in the city while he hosted the French classes trip, Marinette even made sure the class knew of his words.

"Do they really believe everything she says?"

Blue eyes widen at the sudden break in her thoughts from the newcomer, causing for Marinette to jump a foot off of the ground. The man- no teenager found such an action amusing and laughed as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you, I'm Tim the tour guide for your class." Tim offers his hand out for a shake with a slight smile to his lips.

Marinette could tell he was lying. The tour guide was supposed to be Dick, whom of which she counted as a second brother. She didn't ask any questions knowing that something probably came up, so she put on a smile and took Tim's hand into her own and gave a firm shake.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng-" She spoke with confidence in her voice as her blue eyes gleamed up into equally, but cloudy blue eyes. "I'm the class president and I do apologize for the lying going around."

Tim smiled politely at her before turning his attention to the class. He soon called out to grab the attention of the others, "My name is Tim and I will be your tour guide for the day. I would like to inform you that we will be having a bodyguard join us, it's mainly because we don't want to risk an attack from the Rouge's or any escapes for Arkham."

The class gathered around Tim with widening eyes, seeming to now take notice of just how dangerous Gotham was. Their attention though soon sifted to the sound of approaching footsteps nearing Marinette's left side.

"Name's Jason, I'll be your bodyguard."

Marinette's world soon went blurry.

-

That voice, she knew that voice anywhere. Yes, it may have changed with age, but it was still the voice of her brother. The boy who would protect her from their father's beatings or beating from the strays on the street. It belongs to the boy who made sure the little blue-eyed girl had a meal before her every day.

It was the same voice of the teenager who had died when she was seven.

With a shake in her steps and blurry vision, Marinette turned to look up at her once dead brother. Even through her teary vision, she could see the moment that Jason recognized her. For the young man flinched slightly as his own blue eyes clouded in shame.

"You died."

Jason's mouth opened and closed, he couldn't speak. He couldn't think because before him was the very girl he had promised to always protect, but he had failed such promise. He became too scared to face his sister after awakening from the Lazareth pit.

"You died, and you left me on my own for ten years! Where were you when I need you the most! Where was my big brother!"

Jason flinched once again, he even tried hiding behind Tim's back, but his replacement wasn't having it. He knew he deserved his pixies out range but he was never too keen on experiencing it.

"Pixie I-" the shorter girl cut him off before he could even finish what he was saying.

"Don't you dare fucking pixie pop me, Jason Peter Todd!" Marinette gasped out and let out a sob as she hid her face in her hands. Her body trembling from pent-up rage and frustration.

Everyone within the lobby of Wayne Enterprise was tuned in on the scene at hand. Some brave enough to have their phones out recording the whole affair going down, while others looked on in astonishment as the small girl continued to yell at Jason Todd. Even the class was blown away at the outburst. Marinette normally had the most control over her emotions, so seeing the Asian girl crumble before the very man to be her brother was all a shock to them.

"Does Uncle Jim know, does Dick know! Who all knows and didn't tell me? Who all made me believe you were dead for ten years!?"

Everyone was practically on their toes. They watched as the short bluenett, who was still crying into her hands and stood hunched over on skating legs that looked as if they were to give out any minute.

They watched on as Jason took careful steps towards his sister. He looked as if he were going to wrap her in his arms and hug her, but he was stopped as a fist shot out and struck him in the nose, and from the blood now running down his nose, the smaller girl most likely broke it.

"Ow, fuck!"

The entire room held their breath after the punch had been blown. They sat waiting to see what would happen next. They waited to see if Jason would drag the girl out of the building or if the girl would strike the other once more. But neither of those happened. What happened next only further their surprise.

"Oh god- Jay-Jay, I'm so sorry." Marinette brought shaking hands up to her brother's face in worry. She may be mad at him but her caring nature will always shine through, no matter the situation she's in.

"S'fine Pixie." Jason chuckled and pulled the shaking teenager into his arms, being careful not to get his nose blood onto her midnight black hair. "I deserved it. God do I deserve that." He finally let himself cry as well further shocking everyone taking a witness to the reunion.

"Missed you so much Nette. Never a day went by that I wasn't thinking about my baby sister and whether or not I was doing the right thing in keeping you away. I was so fucked up after I- after I died, so much so I didn't want you to see me. To know that me, so I never reached out. I just recently got better, and I was, I promise I was going to tell- I was. And I do, I deserved that punch to the nose."

Marinette pulled away from the hug and smiled softly at her brother. "I get it, but just so you know, I'm punching Dick and Bruce when I see them."

[frickfracksnatchisback]

( meeps back into existence) I have the hurt comfort sad moon in submits for you....Also, 1: I LOVE THE STEAMPUNK AND PLS TURN IT INTO A REAL AU and 2: the next prompt could be....Metallic and affectionate! ( I'm failing at being sneaking. I just really want more insight on steamjumper) - Silver

((Already posted the other two things, just using this ask for the prompt)) Alright, I’ve got the new prompt for you as well! Robotic (as in the AGIT AU) and Anger. I feel like we need more angry Moonbot in our lives, so why not?

Here we go again with Steam Punk Hat AU!

***

“YOUDID WHAT?!”

Moonjumpercringed at the shouting, knowing very well who it belonged to. He washiding behind the basement door, having cracked it just enough so hecould listen in on the conversation.

Hattiehad been visiting him for the past couple days after she had freedhim. At first, Moonjumper planned “fix” her so she could be withhim forever and later they could make their escape. But after a bitof negotiation, Hattie had somehow convinced him to go with a betterplan. To instead, live with her and her family and not turnher into a robot. (She had told him over and over that she wasperfectly fine with being human, though he didn’t quite understandwhy)

Hattiehad told him to stay in the basement until she talked things overwith her father. But Moonjumper was pretty sure he knew what kind of“father” she was dealing with. And an inkling feeling in his veryCore told him that this plan wasn’t going to work at all.

“Pleasedon’t be mad at me! I just wanted to-”

“Itold you not to go down there! Do you have any idea whatcould’ve happened to you?!” the shouting returned, cutting offthe little girl’s words abruptly. “You could’ve been hurt or-”

“Orwhat?! Find the robot in the basement that you locked up?!”Moonjumper felt himself gasp at Hattie’s words. Had it been underdifferent circumstances, he would have found her retorts ratherhumerus. But the atmosphere was extremely tense, with his fate beingon the line. Would she even be able to convince her traitor of afather to let him be free?

Moonjumperleaned closer, listening intently as there was a short period ofsilence.

“H-howdid you-?” the creator spoke, clearly phased. But the disbeliefonly lasted for so long. “Listen, I know it looks bad. But trustme, there’s a good reason for why I-”

“Nothere isn’t! You locked him down there without even giving him achance!”

“Thatthing down there isn’t a ‘he’. It’s just a machine-”

“Nohe ISN’T!” Moonjumper startled at Hattie’s angryscreams. “He’s a person and his name is Moony! And he told methat you-”

“HarrietJeannette Tyme, that is enough!” Moonjumper could feel achill in the air after those words were spoken. He felt incrediblynervous. With such an authoritative parent like that, how on earthcould Hattie get through with this plan? But he also felt incrediblyfurious. How dare his creator call him a“thing”! He barely had any room to talk, treating him like just amindless “machine”! He had feelings, and at least Hattieunderstood that he-

“Youknow what? I’m not going to tolerate this any longer.” Moonjumperwas immediately snapped out of his thoughts, as he heard footstepsquickly approaching.

“Daddy…?Daddy where are you going?” littler steps followed, and Hattie’svoice clearly sounded panicked.

“Ishould have lock that door up when I left that monster downthere.” the footsteps continued to get closer and closer, until hiscreator was right at the foot of the door. He heard the clinking ofkeys after, which almost sent a shock through his system.

“NO!DADDY PLEASE DON’T-”

HearingHattie’s pleads was enough to send Moonjumper over the edge. Andwith incredible force, he burst through the door. He could hear a cryof surprise, as his creator lost his bearings and fell to the floor.The keys hit also hit the floor with a clank, right in frontof Moonjumper’s wheel.

Moonjumper’seyes were bright red, and full of rage. He looked down at hiscreator, who was laying on the floor and looking up at him in fear.His eyes switched from his creator, to the keys on the floor. Thecreator noticed this, and before he could make to grab the keys back-

Moonjumpersnatched the keys from off the floor. He made his creator watch,horrified, as he crushed the keys in his metal grasp. With horriblecrunching noises, Moonjumper destroyed the keys until they werepractically unusable. He then dropped the mangled and bent keys,letting them fall to the ground once more. His creator simply watchedas Moonjumper towered over him, his large shadow looming over thefloor.

“N-n-not…apri…soner…” Moonjumper growled, his clawed handsoutstretched above his head. “W-w-won’t lo…ck me a…way!”he yelled, ready to pouch on his creator and-

Moonjumperfroze, as he finally heard the sobs of a child.

Heturned his gaze away from his creator, only to see Hattie huddled inthe corner. And she was crying, her face in her hands. Moonjumper’sarms fell to his sides, his eyes turning back to yellow.

“H-H-Hattie?A-a-are you o…kay?”Moonjumper called to her, in a softer and much gentler tone. He startto roll away from his targeton the floor andtowards her instead.

“No!You stay away from her you-” Thorcalled out to him, readyinghimself to jump up off the floor and intervene. Fearfulfor what his creation would do to his only daughter, he made to stopMoonjumper.

Buthewas too late, as his creation was right above his poor, defenselessdaughter. Thorfroze,as he saw Moonjumperleaningcloser to her and-

…huggedher?

“S-s-shhh…It’so…kay…”Moonjumper tried to soothe her, rubbing her back and holding hertighter.

Thorstood there, dumbfounded, as his creation begantocuddlehis daughter. And his daughter returned the affection, holdingMoonjumpercloserand crying into his metal body. Thorsimply watched, feeling a mix of dread, guilt, and confusion buildingup inside him.He was still afraid of what his creation was doing, andwhywouldn’t he be? But seeing his daughter cry like that…while hecreation was the only one calming her down. Well, that made him feellike he made a big mistake as father. But at the same time, why washis creation being so…nice? And emotional?

“I’m…I’mso s-sorry, Moony!” Hattie sobbed, hiccuping in between her words.“I d-didn’t…I just w-wanted to help-”

“I-i-it’salright…you…r fine…”Moonjumper kept on, starting to cradle Hattie in his arms. As Hattiewasn’t looking, he took a moment to glare at Thor. Pure hate was inhis eyes, with them slightly turning red before going back to yellow.

Thorfelt a deep jealously growing in his heart. Hewas supposed to be the one caring for his daughter. And instead, thisrobot was the one drying her tears and comforting her. It shouldn’teven have emotions! And yet…

Yet…

Therealization struck Thor. It didhave emotion. Actual, human emotion. Could it be? Did the “Core”piece really bring his creation to life? Tim had warned him about it,but it’s not like he believed in all that magical mumbo-jumbo atthe time. He’d just thought of it as a power source and nothingmore. But now, he finally realized the truth. And there wasirrefutable proof, right in front of him, to prove it.

“I…”Thor felt himself speak up, grabbing both Moonjumper’sand his daughter’s attention. “…I’mso sorry.” he tried to apologize, recalling all the things he hadsaid or done. Moonjumper gave him a skeptical look, but he kept on.“I had no clue that you were really alive. I just…thought thatyou were-”

“A-a-amind…less ma…chine?”Moonjumper frowned at Thor, still holding Hattie close to him. Thorfelt slight anger at that response, but it was true.

“Isthere any way thatyou can forgive me?” Thor asked, still feeling guilty. Thatis, until he realized his mistake. Once he uttered those words,Moonjumper and Hattie beamed at him with excitement. AlbeitMoonjumper’s smile was a bit more malicious that Hattie’s, whichThor quickly noticed.

“CanMoony stay with us then?!” Hattie said rather excitedly, hoppingup and down in Moonjumper’s grasp.

“Y-y-yes…S-s-stayhe…re?”Moonjumper added in malevolently,that devilish smirkstillon his face.

Thorfelt extremely reluctant, not liking the look on Moonjumper’s faceone bit.Butif it would really make his daughter happy…

“Alright,he can stay.” Thor gave in, letting out a defeated sigh.

Hattieand Moonjumper looked at each other in surprise and glee. AndHattie started to giggle, as Moonjumper lifted her off the ground andinto his arms. He spun around, making both him and Hattie laughwith childish glee.

“Hey!Be careful with her!” Thor fussed, still not trusting Moonjumperwithin an inch of his life. And Moonjumper did stop, with Hat Kidstill laughing in his arms.

“Again!Again!” she clapped her hands together. But, to Thor’s surprise,Moonjumper shook his head.

“N-n-no,no…H-h-have to…be care…ful!”Moonjumper told her, mocking Thor with his tone of voice.

“Awww…”Hattie faked her disappointment, snuggling back into Moonjumper. AndMoonjumper rested his head on top of hers, givingThor a smug look that Hattie didn’t even notice. But Thor did, andMoonjumper had wanted him to see it. Finally, little Hattie was allhis! Well…sort of, but he could work that out later. He chuckled tohimself, as Thor shook his head at them and turned to leave.Moonjumper pretended not to notice, sighing as he cuddled his Hattiewithout a care in the-

“Ihope you realize there are other robots living here! You’ll have toshare!” Thor called back, before he disappeared out of sight.Presumably back to his workshop. Moonjumper eyes snapped open insurprise.

“Ohyeah! You haven’t met Mu and Snatcher yet!” Hattie exclaimed, asMoonjumper had lifted his head up to look at her confusedly. Hestared at her for a few minutes, until a nervous grin spread acrosshis face.

“S-s-share?W-w-with fri…ends?”Moonjumper asked her, slightly cocking his head in question. AndHattie nodded at him.

“Mhm!I think you really like Snatcher! He’s really funny, like you!”Hattie smiled at him. Although Moonjumper was trying to figure out ifthat was a compliment or not. He was too busy trying to process allof this, anyways. Otherrobots? As is other robots he had to sharehis Hattie with? Moonjumper thought deeply about this, as Hattiesnuggled into him once more.

Thatmight be a problem…