#have actual plot

[haveihitanerve]

Oracle, Come In

Tim thought he was being reasonable. 

“Just a quick lone patrol! Please B! You won’t even notice I’m gone!” He begs, offering up his best puppy dog eyes, courtesy of Dick’s teachings. 

But Batman’s lips remain a thin, impenetrable line. “No.” The word isn’t spoken so much as it is barked, a simple order. A command. 

Tim scowls, mask crinkling with annoyance. “But-!” He tries, maybe going for the logical approach, after all, this is Batman he’s talking to, but Bruce cuts him off with a quick flick of his wrist, like he’s dismissing Tim or something. “

No, Robin! And that is final. It’s too dangerous alone.” He turns, tugging out his grapple line. 

‘End of discussion.’ Tim mocks in his head, but doesn't dare say aloud. What’s the point? It’s not like Bruce is going to change his mind. He’s stupidly strict over stuff like this. 

It doesn't matter that Tim has been Robin for over a year, now. Doesn't matter that they’ve already basically finished patrol and are going to head home now anyway, so most crime has been dealt with. Doesn't matter that Dick is also home and patrolling, so things are doubly safe. 

No. None of that matters. Bruce still doesn't trust him to go off on his own. To try to spread his wings a little without the lurking bat. 

“Robin?” Bruce’s voice is sharp. Commanding. Tim cringes, looking up from where he’d been scowling at the rooftop. Batman’s white lenses narrow at him, displeasure practically emanating from the man. “Yes, Batman?” Tim returns sulkily, uncaring that he sounds childish. If Bruce is going to treat him like a child, then he is damn sure gonna act the part, that’s for certain.

“Home. Now.” Batman growls, and his tone offers no room for argument. 

Tim scowls harder. “Right.” He agrees, smiling maliciously. “Of course, Your Darkness. I’ll make sure to head home straight away. Wouldn’t want the Estate to gather dust with my absence, would we?” He drops off the roof before he can see Bruce flinch back, before he can witness the effect of his words. Fine. If Bruce wants him to go home so desperately, he will. 

He’ll go to the Drake Estate and he’ll stay there, until Bruce either ferrets him out or apologizes. It’ll likely be the former, but Tim doesn't much care. He’s too angry, now. The anger might die by the time Bruce’ll come for him, but it’s not dead now. It feels better than it should, the fact that he knows Bruce is guaranteed to come for him, even if he’s not going to apologize. 

“Wow.” A comm line crackles to life in his ear, and Dick’s ringing laughter rings out, clear and true, as Tim finally fires off his grapple gun, as close to the ground as he dares- because he knows Bruce won't leave until he hears it, and wants the man to feel as much panic as possible before alleviating it- moving towards the Drake Estate. “You’re ballsy, little brother.” Dick cackles, utterly delighted by Tim’s moves towards Bruce.

Despite himself, Tim finds his lips twitching upwards too. “Is he following me?” He mutters, not daring a glance behind him.

“Nah.” Dick returns, still chortling. “He won’t. B is many things, but he’s not a total asshole. He’ll give you your space. You’ve drawn a line and he’ll respect it… for now.” It shouldn't feel so good to have Dick confirm that Bruce will follow him. That he will come for him.

“Yeah.” Tim agrees, smiling lightly. “Great.” A wonderful, terrible idea overtakes him. “Okay, N. I’ll catch you tomorrow or something.” He tries to dismiss his brother quickly, glancing around. “See ya.”

He can practically feel Dick’s grin. “Gotcha, Robin! See you tomorrow. Sleep in late or something, y’know? Really make him feel your absence.”

Tim laughs, feet tripping over themselves a little as he lands on the nearest roof, catching his breath. “I gotchu. Bye.” He murmurs cheerfully, and switches off his comms. 

~

Up in the Clocktower, Barbara Gordon leaned over her computer, squinting at the screen.

“Okay, Oracle. I’m heading back to the Manor.” Bruce informs her stiffly, and she can practically hear him tense, anticipating a lecture. But Barbara’s in no mood to argue about his parenting styles. Not tonight.

“I'll see you in the morrow, B. Try to get some sleep, yeah? Oh, and actually apologize, this time. Don’t just order him to work with you again.” Okay, so maybe she is in the mood. Just a little.

Bruce huffs a sigh back at her, but she knows he’s nodding. “Noted, O. Thank you.” Barbara laughs, offering him a two finger salute even if she knows he cant see it. He can feel it, and that’s all that matters.

“Not a problem, Batman. Over and out.” His voice brims with a smile as he answers.

“Over and out, Batgirl. See you tomorrow.” She refuses to smile at the old name, but allows her lips a brief moment of exercise before moving to lock down the computer for the night.

Tonight was deliciously slow, and even though she agrees with Bruce that Tim shouldn’t be out on the streets alone, she still would have gone about it a different way. Still, it’s not her place. Not yet, anyway.

She bites back a yawn, rubbing a hand over her eyes as she stretches back in her chair, letting out a sated sigh. “Nothing better than a good nights work.” She murmurs to herself with a grin, spinning her wheelchair towards the elevator so she can head home.

She’s almost reached it when the speaker crackles, drawing her attention back to the desk. “B?” She offers, frowning, and rolls back slightly. “Nightwing?” The speaker sputters again, distorted and scratchy.

“B? This isn't funny.” She warns, but rolls back over to the desk anyway, starting up the computer to try and clear up the signal and check the boys’s trackers.

Her heart leaps into her throat as she beholds the blinking red dot that is Tim.

“Oracle, come in, can you hear me?” The speaker explodes to life and Barbara heaves a breath of relief, keys clacking as she switches tabs, finger pressing the comm button.

“O here, I read you Robin.” She murmurs back, other hand darting to alert Bruce that his bird has flown the nest. There’s no answer from Tim, and Barbara’s frown deepens for a second, before the comm line activates again.

“Oracle, anyone, can you hear me?” His voice is bordering on panicked, but still controlled.

“I hear you, Robin, loud and clear.” Barbara repeats, firm and loud, but again, there’s no answer. Panic bites her throat.

“I’m heading to his location now.” Dick reports promptly, grim, firm, and disconnects before she can say hurry. He knows. They all know.

“All comm lines active, can you hear me?” Tim says again, breathing heavy, and Barbara bites her lip hard enough to draw blood, routing coordinates to Bruce and Dick, the formers tracking device moving so quickly Barbara is almost certain he’s breaking every law ever created.

“I read you Robin. Loud and clear.” She repeats dutifully, resisting the urge to scream at Bruce, at Dick. Hurry. They all know. They won’t lose another Robin. Not today.

“Anyone,” Tim is sobbing now, breathing labored and wet, ragged as the sounds of gunshots reaches her ears through the speakers. “Come in.” he pleads, and there's nothing Barbara can do, nothing but press down that little button that lets them talk, that button that is supposed to connect them, and repeat.

“I can hear you, Robin. I’m here.” 

~

“Move! Dammit!” Bruce snarls, spinning the wheel as he flies down the unpaved roads of Gotham, swerving around the few lone cars that still straggle around at this time of night.

“I’m almost to him.” Dick murmurs in his ear, his eldest son’s voice more soothing than anything.

“Hurry.” Barbara bites out, and Bruce knows the word has been pressing on her for a while. Neither Dick nor he responds, but his foot grows heavier on the gas pedal.

It's pure luck he’d reached the Batmobile when Barbara had alerted him Tim had, in fact, not chosen to go home, but was instead down by the docks, patrolling by himself.

“Dammit Tim.” Bruce grumbles, but he can’t fight the rising panic welling in him. He won’t lose another Robin. He won’t.

“I’m at the warehouse.” Dick mutters, and relief, cascading like a wave, breaks over Bruce. He sucks in a breath and his lungs devour the air greedily, hungry for absolution.

“He’s stopped asking.” Barbara’s voice is deceptively light, but Bruce can read her underlying panic as easily as he can his own.

His tires scream as he screeches to a stop, but Bruce hardly lets them cool before he’s leaping from his seat, flying up the stairs into the warehouse.

Four men await him, each with a gun in hand, but Bruce moves on autopilot, and they’re down before they even have the chance to scream. Tim must have stumbled right into a gang meet up, because it’s like that down almost every hall before Bruce finally reaches the place that Tim’s tracker beeps from.

“Robin?” He whispers gently, pushing open the door carefully. Tim is silent, eyes wide, mouth covered by a gloved hand, pistol pressed against his temple.

“One more step and the birdie gets it.” The man threatens, and Bruce can hear the fear in his voice as plain as day.

“Robin,” Bruce repeats, ignoring the man entirely. “Are you hurt? Tell me you’re okay.” Tim’s eyes are wide with fear, wet with tears, and a roaring starts in Bruce’s ears.

“Don’t you get it, man?” The goon, or whoever he is spits, pistol knocking a little harder against Tim’s head, drawing blood. “One move and-”

“I recommend you let him speak.” Dick’s voice is lethally calm, his appearance so silent that the man startles, gun moving from Tim’s temple to point at him for a moment before resuming it’s placement against the slowly oozing wound.

“What?” The goon is thoroughly confused, panic and fear making his stumbled steps backwards shaky, his grip on Tim tighter.

“Let. My. Brother. Speak.” Dick repeats, slowly, words clipped. “If he cannot reassure my father that he is safe, then you have no chance of survival, my friend.” Dick smiles, the look so eerie and chilling that the goon actually obeys, terrified, hand dropping from Tim’s mouth to wrap around his neck instead.

“I’m sorry.” Tim whispers, the moment he can open his mouth.

“Robin.” Bruce repeats, firm, as Dick hovers around the edges of his periphery, forever watchful of his back. “Are you hurt? Tell me you’re okay.”

Tim’s eyes flit upwards to the man holding him, then back to Bruce’s eyes. He swallows. Dick’s hand on Bruce’s arm keeps the man from moving and ripping Goon’s hands off.

“It wasn't him.” Tim whispers. “I’m sure you got the ones that did it already.”

A low snarl rips from Bruce’s throat. “Your head is bleeding because of him.” He spits. “Your eyes are wet because of him. You are scared, because of him.”

The goon swallows hard, eyes growing wider by the second. “I didn't do shit, man.” He whimpers. “Please, you can take him. Just please let me go.”

It’s all Bruce needs. He’s across the room in a second, gun knocked from the man’s hand in two, a quick swipe to the back of his neck all it takes for him to sag to the floor, unconscious.

Tim’s knees buckle, but Bruce catches him, sweeping him into his arms with ease as he cradles him to his chest. “The warehouse is clean.” Dick reports, eyes thunderous, but stays at Bruce’s side. Does not impart more judgement than the one Bruce has already served.

“Good.” Bruce sweeps past him, and they ride to the Manor together in silence, Tim hissing at every bump and swerve. Bruce’s hands tighten on the wheel with every sound, until the very metal bends under his anger.

Alfred is waiting, already prepared due to Barbara, and Tim goes under quickly.

Bruce changes while the butler works, ordering Dick to do the same, and then they wait, anxious, at Tim’s bedside, for him to wake again.

When he finally does, he flinches back in fear, drawing together. “I'm sorry.” He whispers, miserable, and won’t meet Bruce’s eyes. “I shouldn't have- I’m sorry.” Excuses seem to be too much for him, maybe because he knows there is none.

Bruce lets out a quiet sigh, leaning forward, and takes Tim’s hand in his own. “Tim. Look at me.” The boy raises his head, shameful and afraid, but meets his eyes.

“I’m… yes, I’m angry at you for disobeying me. And getting yourself hurt. But I am not…” He sighs, uncertain of how to both be firm and yet comforting.

“What B is trying to say is that you scared the shit out of him, and don’t do it again.” Dick comes to his rescue, as he so often does.

Tim’s lips twitch with the briefest of smiles. “I’m sorry.” He repeats.

Bruce squeezes his hand. “It’s- well, it’s not alright, but I’m just glad you’re safe, Robin. I’m glad I got to you in time. Please don’t ever do it again, though, Tim. Alright?”

Tim smiles, small and subdued, but nods. “Yeah. Okay.” He agrees. “I won’t.”

@pixelsbuildmysoul @blue--orangeade @alex-blanc141

it is farrrr too late, but I did finally get around to writing my "oracle come in" fic, so here it is :) tada!! I am dissappointed in the ending, I do not like it that much, but it's finished and I figured I'd give you all something since it's been too damn long. I hope it lives up to your dreams :)

[mychemicalbrromance]

Guys ive been reading peak

[demi-pixellated]

Sonic 06 AU where Princess Elise is instead the dimensional equivalent of Blaze because none of this really matters anyway so why not

[flappy-dragon53]

You’ve heard of “justice league doesn’t know Batman has kids”

Now prepare for “the Team doesn’t know Batman is Robins dad”

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

We all know the semi-canonical ‘all the Robins know to hide/duck inside of Batman’s cape, even as adults’ thing.

We also know that Danny ‘is LITERALLY a ghost’ Fenton sucks at remembering his own intangibility while ALSO forgetting to look ahead of him.

All I’m saying is, Danny Fenton (or Phantom, if you’d really like) would absolutely SLAM into Batman on accident while running on roof tops and Bruce ‘Brooding Instinct’ Wayne doesn’t even think twice about letting the kid hide and scanning around for danger before there’s a record scratch of ‘wait who tf is this?’ kicks in.

[cowsnotcrows]

took a break from the regular mermay prompts to draw some CumPlane fanart <333

They got wrapped into another wife plot oopsies—

[queensparklekitten]

anyways after that minecraft movie trailer i'm tempted to change my skin back to that one based on crimson/warped duality out of spite

they called the nether "a place with no joy or creativity at all" like just tell me you're too scared to go there and thus haven't experienced

-joining in on a group of piglins hunting a hoglin, letting them keep the loot, trading with them afterwards, i find that this temporarily cures the loneliness of singleplayer

-the dance they do afterwards sometimes literally just the piglin dance, hitting shift repeatedly with them

-literally just the nether music at all

-that CRESCENDO in rubedo

-that brief minor key reprise of sweden in dead voxel hhhhhhhhhhhh

-occasional crimson roots in a soul sand valley like oh there's still some life here

-wither skull hunting and recruiting piglins to help you by luring them to the fortress with gold (+ giving them gold helmets so they don't put on the skulls) i love the ways this game lets me fight alongside piglins if i want to

-the subtle animated texture of crimson and warped stems like they feel so ALIVE with that one small detail

-seeing a nether tree growing through another one

-and an extremely tall nether tree amidst the normal height ones

-and weeping vines hanging from the ceiling

-passing by a piglin that's wearing enchanted iron boots and immediately knowing you've met and traded with this one before

-parkour challenge basalt delta

-also the particles in that biome look like snow if you turn down your render distance

-STRIDERS. Literally just striders. They're like bonded creatures to me, honorary tameable mobs, you put a saddle on the one mob in the nether that would never hurt you and then go on a journey together across the deadly lava ocean avoiding ghasts together and you can't remove the saddle now unless you kill it which you can't do because it's your ride back to the portal, once that strider is saddled it is Your strider and even if you release it into the wild you will immediately recognize it by the saddle if you see it again and in such a dangerous world you have found a companion you can always trust and idk bout you but i always bond so hard with them

-and also they're kind of cute, esp with the little waddle walk

-seeing a baby strider on top of an adult one

-literally just the fact that nether biomes have all this constant looping ambience and particles in the air that makes them feel so immersive and so alive, each biome has its own unique soundscape and ambience, can you imagine soul sand valleys without the wind and the whispers and wails

-aside note the particle effects are like the animated stems in that they're such a subtle detail but they add so much, i never really noticed them until i was netherite mining and started using them to tell which biome i'm under

-the nether was doing ambience and immersion 5 years before the Spring Drop allowed the overworld to finally catch up to it

-the adorableness of baby piglins

-esp when they ride on top of baby hoglins

-PIGSTEP. FUCKING PIGSTEP. the piglins have music and it's SUCH A BANGER i've thrown ingame parties with this music disc

-seeing warped fungus in a crimson forest or crimson fungus in a warped forest

-biome borders between the two that have all this warped foliage in the crimson forest and vice versa as they blend into each other

-nyooming across a soul sand valley with soul speed 3 boots, laughing at the skeletons and ghasts who can't land a hit on you, bonus if you add a speed potion to the mix

-doing this and realizing the subtitle says "soul escapes" and you're surrounded by blue particles and realizing you're freeing them from their imprisonment (and presumably the piglins who made this enchantment are doing the same when they use it)

-the rib and snout armor trims

-gilded blackstone it's so pretty and nice and a great building block (and you can't craft it only the piglins know how to do that)

-bastions have chiseled blackstone

-and their own exclusive banner pattern

-some of them have that gold-and-quartz decorative thing that looks like some kinda statue

-apparently part of the Bridge type of bastion is designed to resemble a piglin head with the mouth as the entrance

-someone in the notes mentioned glowstone and YES how did i forget it when originally making this post, glowstone my childhood favourite block that's in my current mc username, pretty and shiny and also the way piglins used it to invent spectral arrows

-getting lost in the lore implications, noticing the huge fossils and the implications of the name "warped forest" as well as the names of some of its ambience sounds and the fact that basalt comes from rapidly cooling lava irl and next thing you know you've got a whole red string theory going that edges closer and closer to cosmic horror

-ik the fossils look like ribs but one time i wondered if they might be the fingers of something unfathomably huge

-the time i encountered a baby piglin running from a zombified one so i pushed the zombified piglin off the fortress and then gave the baby piglin a gold nugget

but hey what do i know i'm just a nether enthusiast on the "romanticizing and finding beauty in the horrifying and the forsaken" website huh

[egophiliac]

was gonna wait 'til I'd done all the poms, but it's been a day, so have Vil with a Salazzle 🍎

[goatsghost]

pros and cons of writing fanfiction:

pro: personalized fic right there, exactly fit to your specific tastes and headcanons

con: you have to write it

[infinite-orangepeel]

dammit they forgot to put the canon steddie kiss in the s5 trailer

[zuzu-romeave]

“this episode could’ve been an email” WHY DO YOU HATE STORYTELLING SO MUCH!!! WHY DO YOU HATE WORLD BUILDING AND GETTING ANSWERS AND EXPLORING CHARACTERS!!!!

[bruciemilf]

One of my biggest gripes about the dc fandom is how simplified and stripped down ‘child soldier’ became as a term.

Like, ya’ll, I don’t think forcing a rich guy to take you in and make him teach you martial arts is equal to having your entire childhood ripped from the root up for military purposes. That’s just me tho idk

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

This wine tastes like pigs blood!

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[starcurtain]

From a Mydei lover standpoint, I'm devastated to see my beloved son fighting for every second of his life.

But from the extremely pedantic lore-nerd standpoint... This lightcone is hilarious because:

It implies that nine-year-old Mydei managed to not only find clothing and armor that would fit a child just conveniently floating around in the Sea of Souls, but that he also felt like jewelry was a necessity in his life, despite having (if we approach this logically) neither any social context for jewelry wearing nor jewelry having any practical application for someone fighting daily to survive. You can't slay without slaying, I guess.

This lightcone also implies that Mydei picked an outfit at nine-years-old and never changed his fashion choices again in his entire life. Bro really said, "This outfit slaps; I'm set for good." He's literally is still wearing the exact same style as he was rocking as a homeless refugee of the abyss; I can FEEL Aglaea internally screaming.

(Yes, realistically I can guess that the artist just didn't know what else to put Mydei in and defaulted to his current outfit for reference but ssshhhhh, let me have something to laugh about right now...)

[proxycrit]

(I point. Gently, in the voice of somebody who’s mind touched by the outer gods, i whisper truth in your ears:

Your honor the horses are now lesbians

(Anyways here’s the designs)

[sunderwight]

A fun prospect for Superhero-themed SV AU's that I don't often see is genre dissonance. Like, Luo Binghe as this edgy 90's style antihero who just straight up kills his enemies and sleeps around and is driven by selfish motives (revenge, ambition, etc) rather than altruistic morality, vs Shen Qingqiu as this kid-friendly supervillain who is "evil" mostly in terms of aesthetics and his ability to make inconvenient problems that are reasonably safe for child heroes to solve. Something like Punisher vs Team Rocket in terms of vibes.

Maybe the reason they meet is because some big publishing house akin to Marvel or DC just bought up the rights to whole bunch of older, discontinued comics titles, and decided to do a Justice League/Avengers style mash-up with a bunch of nostalgia properties and their most recognizable heroes and villains. Which means lots of crossovers condensing several titles into a handful of series.

Luo Binghe's origin always features him as a teenager, so he reboots as the youngest Avenger-equivalent team member in the new continuity. Even in this reboot, however, the writers still mostly go the gritty and dark route with his plots and stick to the same key developments -- his abandonment as an infant, his adoptive mother's tragic death, his tough life on the streets, abusive mentors and backstabbing "allies", and so on.

But Luo Binghe's life suddenly starts experiencing periods of dramatic change in his life when he's brought in for appearances in the lighter, friendlier world of the Junior Heroes continuity. After all, he's a natural choice for tying the two continuities together thanks to his youthfulness. Luo Binghe isn't consciously aware of the fact that he's moving between different titles and different writers. All he knows is that sometimes, when he hangs out with the bright and talented Ning Yingying, he's drawn into "conflicts" with Shen Qingqiu -- the kind of "villain" who will call for tea breaks, never actually hits anyone when he shoots his ray gun, leaves clues for all of his crimes, and can't seem to stop from imparting genuinely helpful advice in between his witty quips and taunts.

When Luo Binghe fights Shen Qingqiu, somehow he never actually gets hurt. Neither do any of his friends. The world in general seems brighter and lighter, as if there is some secret barrier protecting everyone from all the evils Binghe knows only too well exist in the rest of his life. Luo Binghe is increasingly convinced that Shen Qingqiu is the source of this mystical safety net. After all, for an allegedly powerful genius who is able to fool half the world about his wicked aims, he's never won a single fight against a kindhearted but somewhat ditzy teenager and her ragtag bunch of friends!

So what's he spending his actual energy on?

Luo Binghe is pretty sure it's keeping the real evils at bay. Making himself the biggest bad in town, and in doing that, making it so that the "biggest bad" is nothing worse than a slightly judgmental teacher in a pretty costume.

It's not long before Luo Binghe doesn't want to go back to the Justice League equivalent, to his world of misery and strife, even after his visits with Ning Yingying are supposed to be over. Especially as the global stakes of various heroic activities start getting higher, and it becomes clear that the boundary between Shen Qingqiu's safe world and the grimdark reality of Binghe's usual life are getting thinner...