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THEY LITERALLY HANG THEM UP TO DRY IN CRYING OH MY GOD

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DC + DP a deal

Tim stared at the being, they were massive, they didn’t look human, their form was blurry, their eyes seemed to be black holes with delicate lashes, freckles that appeared to be stars dusted their skin.

If he was right then he was dealing with a good. He swallowed nervously not daring to meet the beings eyes. They smiled at him, and their voice rings out, it sounded wrong somehow, echoing everywhere, "What do you need?" the question startles Tim.

"I was wondering if you could help me? Someone I know got lost through time.." He looks up hopefully.

"Time...." they ponder, the word somehow reflecting the reality of the word. "I suppose that doesn't matter much, what is their name?"

The hairs on Tim's arms raised the second they asked for a name. That was the first rule of this, don't give them your name, or you'll be long to them.

The being laughs, "Humans are always so protective of names.. don't worry you can't give away someones name," the assure him and he stares at them.

"Bruce, Bruce Wayne," he chokes out. And the being smiles, their eyes glow, and everything shifts, the world changes around him, like a hundred fissures splitting through his reality. And suddenly it stops.

"Bruce Wayne," they speak softly. Tim stares at Bruce with shock, as if he couldn't comprehend that he was in fact here. Was this real?

"What about payment?' he stutters softly.

""A favor," they grins and Tim stares at them. A favor sounds too wrong, too unspecific, and there will be surely a catch.

"Within some limits," he barely manages to get the words out. The beings grin twists into a disturbing smile.

"What limits?" they ask their voice amused.

"Nothing that involves others, leave others out of our deal," the words are binding and Tim stares up trying to look confident.

"Heroes always are so self sacrificing," the being hums, "But fine," Tim lets out a sigh of relief. "Our deal is sealed," the being offers him a hand, though it's massive so when they shake hands it's more like a light touch.

After they shake hands, Tim's wrist burns. a blinding pain he can't fathom. He buckles to his knees.

"What is this, he stares at the intricate golden band on his wrist, it's thin, and looks breakable.

"Our deal, it breaks when I need that favor," being smiles and is suddenly gone. Leaving Tim alone in his summoning circle.

-

Years have passed, Tim is older now, the promise weighs ever heavy, it no longer burns. In fact he's almost managed to forget about it entirely. The other bats haven't constantly fretting.

Bruce made contingencies, and planned. but there was no answer, you couldn't beat a god. You couldn't fight a god. So they ignored it, he'd almost forgot about it.

But when the doorbell to his safe house rings he could almost feel something was wrong. Like some cosmic force was warning him. He answered nonetheless.

A boy with blue eyes black hair and a skinny frame stares at him. "My name's Danny," he starts. "And I need a favor."

There's a snap, a burning pain, and Tim stares at his wrist. His bare wrist.

-

first of all holy shit thank you!! Cause apparently I just reached 2000 reblogs and 10k likes and I am stunned. But thank you so much!!!

For me @bluebird8683 @itsbushytailedfox and @tkiesai you all specifically have been so sweet! There have been so many others too, um anyway thank you!!!!!!!

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hey guys

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A cartoon where Elmer Fudd gets married and gives up hunting Bugs Bunny to live happily with his wife only to discover 30 years into a blissful relationship that his wife was actually Bugs the entire time and also their three wonderful children were also Bugs

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someone: hey I noticed this thing you did in your writing!

me, kicking my feet up flirtatiously: oh??? do you want to hear my thoughts on why I did that? do you want a play-by-play of the language choices in every related sentence? do you want an exhaustive breakdown of The Themes???

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Help Wanted ≠ Send Sacrifices

Danny gripped his bangs in his fist, staring down at the paperwork before him with endless frustration and not a lick of comprehension.

Why was there so much paperwork, anyway? Pariah Dark hadn't exactly seemed like the type to keep records. Had he done this on purpose? As punishment to whomever wound up taking the throne from him? Danny had to admit, that sounded like a really devious plan. Unless the next ruler had been, like, The Secretary Ghost or something.

… that gave Danny an idea.

Clockwork had told him about this "Kingly Connection" thing he had yet to try out. Supposedly, it made it so that the king could address his subjects all at once, no matter where they may be. In case of an urgent announcement or Realms-threatening danger, or something.

To Danny, it sounded like a really efficient way to send out a 'Help Wanted' ad. Everyone would be able to hear it, and anyone who for some reason didn't could learn about it through word of mouth. Those who felt they were qualified could come see him at the Keep, and those who didn't could just continue on with whatever they'd been doing. It was the perfect plan.

Danny flopped back in his seat, relieved for the reprieve as he shut his tired eyes. He followed the pull, down, down, into his core… and then even further, til the light behind his eyes got brighter, til he reached the power of the KING.

Hey, everyone. This is your King speaking. I need like, a secretary or something. Someone who can help me handle literal millennia of paperwork. So, if y'all could come on down to the Keep, or pass the offer on to the smartest person you know, that'd be dope.

Danny felt as the power pulsed within his chest, sending his message out along the millions of tiny strings tying all Undead souls back to his. He sighed and slouched in his chair, exhaustion finally catching up to him. All he had to do now was wait. A little nap in the meantime couldn't hurt, could it?

— — —

Jason felt simultaneously floaty and more grounded than he had since his mysterious resurrection. All his anger and uncertainty was just gone, replaced by pure drive and direction. He wasn't thinking very deeply, but he knew what he was doing. It was like laying on the surface of a sunlit lake, letting the gentle waves take him wherever they wished.

The Red Hood finished the chalk circle in the middle of the wide, empty warehouse floor and stepped back. The lines and starbursts that decorated it were drawn immaculately, without a single smudge. Now, all he needed was…

… the smartest person you know…

… Where was Tim?

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Dick: What is this?

Delivery man: A flower delivery for a Richard Grayson.

Dick: From who? And why would they send ten orders of a dozen roses to me?

Delivery man: It's an anonymous request though they did include this sealed card. But between you and me, these are some of the most expensive roses in the world, and the person was awfully flustered when ordering them. I think you have a secret admirer.

Dick: Oh well thank you.

Delivery man: Anyway time. Have a good day!

Dick closing the door staring at the roses: A secert admirer? In this day and age? Maybe the card will give me some clues if this is a genuine gesture or not.

Sealed card: Dear Richard Grayson, I am not brave or strong enough to face you head on so I will send these flowers in my place. I'm sure they will be a perfect representation of where you stand in my core.

Dick reading card: Oh! I do have a secret admirer. Thats so romantic! I wonder who they are?

Danny two floor down glaring at Dick's apartment door: How you like those blood blossoms, Haunt Trespasser. Just because you were able to move into my apartment building without triggering my ghost sense doesn't mean I dont know you're a ghost. I saw you jump out of your window dressed in blue spandex! And the fact you don't feel like a ghost or a overshadowed human let's me know I can't beat you head on but I will not just give up my territory without a fight!

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Help Wanted ≠ Send Sacrifices (Pt. 2)

AN: Reading the replies on the first post makes me feel like I set out a plate of cookies and got a banquet in return, holy cow. I'm so honored, you guys.

Anyway, due to several requests, here you go! More cookies! Since I am also writing a bit for the threads on the original post (which should hopefully be done in the next couple days), I decided to take this one in a direction the other two did not. Please enjoy!

— — —

When Tim had received a message from Jason asking for him specifically to come to this warehouse, he had not been expecting this.

"Ah, Tim, you're here!" Hood sounded oddly cheerful for someone standing just a few feet away from a swirling green vortex that was frothing at the edges like a rabid animal. Seriously, any closer and it'd probably be getting on his shoes.

"I'm gonna hazard a guess and say that's what you called me here for?" Tim nodded in the direction of the toxic green whirlpool as he approached Hood's side. If Jason was standing so close, it was probably safe, but he stayed a half-step further back, just in case.

Why had Jason only called for him, though? Something like this was pretty clearly an all-bats-on-deck situation.

"Yup." Hood confirmed, the voice modulator in his helmet turning the pop of the 'p' into something rather grating. "Go on ahead and hop in."

Tim's thoughts screeched to a halt, and he slowly turned to look at Jason with an expression of pure confusion. "Why... would I... do that?"

"Well, if you don't, I'm gonna have to throw you in." Hood said pragmatically.

Tim blinked in shock, alarm bells beginning to go off in his head. Nothing about Jason's body language indicated he was joking.

"Riiiight..." Tim began inching away from Jason as subtly as he could, "Uh, any particular reason you want that to happen?"

Jason turned to stare into the glow for a few concerningly silent seconds. "He needs help."

Ooooh, Tim did NOT like the emphasis on that 'He.'

"Then why don't you go in?" Tim asked cautiously, then immediately flinched. That was not something you said to someone who was very probably not in their right mind at the moment.

Jason was silent for a second, and if Tim had to guess, he was making a face under the helmet. "I can, if you want me to, but you have to go too," he insisted.

Hood took a step forward, closer to Tim. His hands had seemingly unconsciously begun to rise from his sides.

Tim decided then and there it was time to cut his losses.

Tim whirled around and sprinted back the way he'd come in, beelining for the open window. The heavy clomp of boots behind him told him that Jason was giving chase. Tim's fingers flew over the keypad of his communicator, just barely managing to hit send before Jason's arm hooked around his waist, pulling him back and lifting him up off his feet.

Tim made a noise somewhere between a yelp and a screech as he was flipped over Jason's shoulder, and those heavy boots began to make their way toward the center of the room.

"Jason! Jason–" Tim tried to wriggle free, but Jason's grip was made of iron, his leather jacket and body armor making it so that Tim's hits and kicks landed ineffectively against Jason's torso.

The stiffness faded from Jason's frame the closer they got to the vortex, pausing once they were right on the edge.

"Don't worry, kid, we'll be fine!" He reassured.

"Jason, don't you dare–" Before Tim could finish hissing his threat, Jason leapt into the green with a cheer.

"Geronimo!"

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i think itd be fun if tim went through a phase shortly after darla or steph (?? idk timeline) and before bruce died where he swore up and down to his best friends (kon and bart) that he was DONE for GOOD with romance and that if love didnt find him by 40 he’d, he’d marry kon! and unbeknownst to kon he was excitedly awaiting that day until one day years later tim comes in to the tower gushing and blushing about his new boyfriend and kon has a sudden terrible realization

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theyre so obviously parallels im sick

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Why isn't "too scary" a good enough reason to never drive a car

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Hey, you reblogged that AI post and I was surprised to see something so mean on your blog. "If you cant write unassisted, fuck you, youre a disgrace to the community." Is that really something you want on your blog?

Just in case this isn't a spam message:

Posting AI-generated content to a platform intended to be an archive for writers is not appropriate use of the platform. On a platform intended for human creation, it is rude and inappropriate to clog search results with AI-produced content which often plagiarizes the work of human authors.

Use of generative AI is also horrible for our environment, leading to massive waste of fossil fuel energy and water. We should not be doing damage to our planet for the sake of generating (robot-produced, often plagiarized) fiction, especially when the joy of fiction comes from the creation and emotion of real people.

Rather than giving a prompt to a generative AI, people should consider attempting to write their own work, or asking another writer from the fandom if they would be interested in writing it. Anyone who is capable of typing a prompt into ChatGPT is capable of writing a story. The first attempts may not be amazing, but that is true of any skill, and anyone can improve with time and practice - and while ChatGPT may give you big returns in your time, it doesn't give you practice, growth, or creativity, which is where the joy of writing should come from.

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so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

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You were supposed to protect and love me

Also, funny way to not forget the idea