#(first paragraph in that post)

[rubysevens]

anyway in the past week the irish government has voted down two motions which would have condemned the genocide in gaza.

i need everyone to stop lionising ireland as if its not also a european government with strong ties to the us. american weapons pass through shannon airport and will continue to, because yesterday the motion to stop that was voted down 83 to 50.

other governments have done much more but somehow people still act as though ireland is the ultimate palestinian ally and exempt from criticism on its handling of palestine bc it was once colonised, even though that past experience clearly isnt being taken into account by the irish government when creating policy.

i live here i know there’s a lot of public support and sympathy for palestine, which is great, but that isnt reflected in government, and i think ireland should be treated like other countries whose governments have done nothing.

[girlboyburger]

[fryday]

"no chocolate though please as phil can't have chocolate" - devastating, yes, absolutely. but i beg y'all to listen closely to me rn because phil's reaction is so so so much to me. it's in his eyes. this is the first time he's learning about dan doing this, and it has happened on camera, and he obviously wasn't expecting to be hit by something so genuinely affectionate and kind from this funny lil read your last text challenge. and his eyes.

not the wide-eyed staring right down the lens into your soul thing that he does for youtube. not the wide-eyed at-attention look he has when dan is explaining / expounding on some fact. this is phil's "i'm at my most relaxed, i'm happy, i'm listening and open to you" eyes. the ones where they droop at the corners. his softest eyes ever. he's caught off guard and surprised and genuinely touched by dan's gesture & we SAW it. we ZOOMED IN on it. it's his eyes!!!!!!!!!

[transmascissues]

if you had to live even one day as a biological homosexual male (don't play dumb or smart, you know what i'm referring to), you'd fucking k!ll yourself once you realize how miserable it is.

right, because trans people have famously never had to survive being so miserable that we feel like we’d be better off dead, and transphobia totally doesn’t compound with homophobia to make life even harder. i mean, fuck intersectionality, right? obviously being trans on top of being gay would make things easier, not harder. silly me. my stupid little female brain just can’t possibly comprehend how hard your life must be. of course i would be too fragile and weak to survive the hardships that you and only you experience. really, we should all give you a standing ovation for surviving more suffering than anyone else on the entire earth has ever had to experience.

…anyway, this whole stolen valor angle of anti-transmasculinity is weird as hell. big “back in my day we had to walk to school up hill both ways in the snow” energy. have you ever considered that maybe, just maybe, you don’t have some sort of monopoly on suffering? because believe it or not, finding community with other people who have faced similar hardships is actually a really healing experience when you let yourself do it, and would definitely be far healthier than whatever the fuck you’ve got going on here. i’d strongly recommend trying it sometime. if you get the stick out of your ass, you’ll realize we’re in this together, and that’s an incredibly powerful thing.

[cashmere-caveman]

ned little voted most likey to get dealt a big losing hand 1845-48 (more terror text post memes)

[zuzu-draws]

Yuuji's ''I'm going to die with him'' from the start of the series to ''Sukuna, Come back and live with me '' at the end is, honestly, very beautiful.

"Let's try again one more time Sukuna, but this time, without cursing anyone. Even if no one else accepts you, I'll live with you" do you understand what's going on here? This is Yuuji attempting to connect with Sukuna, to show a certain compassion that is entirely alien to Sukuna. To the way he delicately lifts Sukuna's remains, with such carefulness, as if holding the remains of a precious loved one, Yuuji tries to show Sukuna "love". The same "love" that has been teased to us this entire series, that who is it that will show it to Sukuna, teach him of it.

This is the same Yuuji, who, at the beginning of the series held absolute disdain towards Sukuna, and always looked at him with much accusatory contempt and mistrust. At that point, He truly did think of Sukuna as nothing more than a "curse". The same "curse" Sukuna calls himself one last time as the last embers of his soul fade in Yuuji's hands.

But this time, Yuuji has a troubled look in his eyes.

As if he disagreed with him.

This is the look of someone, who is looking at the Humanity Sukuna does not believe exists within himself.

Humanity that Sukuna denies himself.

That Sukuna is not a curse, but a human that has been cursed.

[rintoki]

i just want to mark up dr ratio’s pretty little body, his probably flawless skin coloured red with bite marks, almost purple from bruising. how pretty his butt would redden after just a few spanks, a cute blush on his pale skin.

he’d try his best to swallow down the whines that threaten to escape, forcing himself not to look away as if it admits defeat. but that’s fine, because you’d prefer to look into his eyes as you push yourself into him. excruciatingly slow and bigger than what you told him; your grip keeps him from turning away, shuddering breaths as he feels his walls stretching to accommodate the size.

“you lied,” his voice quivered, eyes flickering down between your bodies and back up to your piercing gaze.

“just because the truth isn’t what you expected doesn’t mean it’s a lie,” you laughed. “veritas, you know that.”

he grits his teeth, sucking in air when you push the remaining length fully into him, relishing in the way he struggles to get used to the feeling. but you don’t give him time, instead pulling out and thrusting back in in one fluid motion. the high-pitched moan that escapes his mouth surprises even the Guild member himself, an arm flying up to cover his mouth.

“well,” you breathed out, voice filled with amusement, “you would’ve known—”

a wicked smile on your lips as you thrusted your hips, again and again, “that the arrogant.”

“self-centred.” another hard push.

“doctor.” and another.

“veritas.” and another.

“ratio.” a final thrust directly hitting his prostate, the throbbing bundle of nerves sending shocks up his body. every buck of your hips eliciting yet another whiny moan, shaky breaths as he tries to compose himself to no avail. and finally, you give him a break, cock pressed deep inside him while the doctor squeezes his eyes shut.

“could make such cute sounds,” you sneered, ripping his arm from over his face to expose how red he’s gotten.

for all his intelligence and knowledge gathered from his studies, veritas ratio could not utter a single word against you—afraid that the only thing that would leave his lips is begs for you to keep going.

but his hips trembled terribly, his walls twitching and squeezing around you. you didn’t need words to know how badly he ached; his body was honest enough, with the way his cock leaked a puddle of precum onto his belly already.

slowly, you started moving again, dragging against his sensitive walls. relief floods his face at the crumbs of stimulation, already feeling the familiar heat in his lower belly building up quickly.

his mouth hangs open, panting heavily as he nears the high he so badly craves. with hands nearly tearing the sheets, the venerable doctor arches his back, toes curling tight as a searing heat fills his lower body. the whimpers that left his throat are barely registered, rapidly losing control of his own body with every push of your hips. he grits his teeth and…

nothing.

he nearly chokes from the anticipation, and now it’s been violently ripped from him as all traces of your touch leaves his body. the timing was perfect. his cock drips with cum and yet his body felt cold, twitching.

you watched on with a cruel chuckle; how he writhes on the bed, how pathetic he looks after having his orgasm ruined. a slap to his still hard and aching cock jolts him back to reality, wondering just what else do you plan to do to him.

[ryllen]

Look what came through the mail today! The letters & ( •̀ω•́ )σ 3 little gremlins from letterstoear.

Just wanna say i adore the flower stickers on the letters too much, they are that much worth mentioning.

[aroaceleovaldez]

Shout-out to both Nico and Hazel, immediately after their character introductions, explicitly cussing/telling another character to shove it. It runs in the family.

[gossippool]

i was gonna make a personal poolverine headcanons list because other people were doing it too but i realised my fics already have most of them so. here are some of my headcanons in fic snippet form. some contradict with others and some i don't even think are necessarily true but it's fun to experiment

people have said this before but logan fights wade because he sees himself in him (or because he realises that he actually doesn't and he hates that)

wade knows about and feels the (emotional and psychological) effects of all his other variant selves (and everything else if he tries)

logan's heightened senses gives him synethesia

logan doesn't actually like violence/fighting/blood during sex or like ever. it's just an unhealthy addiction that started from him killing all those people that he snuffed with alcohol but revived with wade, and a way to take his anger out on (someone like) himself

with regard to wade's chronic pain slight p pressure on his skin hurts more and in a worse way than sharp pains like getting stabbed

[sallymew4]

Watching you get got by the teru reigen virus in real time is so funny dude. And you're right

EXCUSE TO DRAW REIGEN AND TERU SPOTTED

dude im so sick in the head about them its not even funny (it is). the teru reigen virus is NO JOKE GUYS. it can get you any time anywhere and you wont even know until it's TOO LATE. but yes like you said i am incredibly correct

also since i have yall here

you have to see my vision. this song is so them. in a non-romantic way of course

[weepingfireflies]

Split Attraction Model (SAM) & More on QPRs

Edit: Thanks to @klavierpanda for correcting me! Romance-positive is supposed to be romance-favorable. I can't edit the photo right this second, but I will when I get a chance.

[corrodedcoughin]

I feel like Eddie is the type of guy to always have a slide whistle in his pocket and uses it to make incidental sound effects for the conversations that happen around him.

Nobody knows where he gets them all from and they don’t ask incase he takes one out and starts playing with it.

Wayne is so happy every time he loses one of the whistles. He absolutely never tells Eddie when he finds one of the numerous whistles that have rolled under the couch. He has an agreement with Steve to dispose of them secretly and securely.

Except one night when Steve’s driving around town with Eddie, he opens the glove box and there’s a bag full of whistles (seriously nobody knows where he’s getting them from. And in bulk?)

And Eddie is all ‘HEY!’ Which immediately makes Steve tense up in preparation for an argument with his easily antagonised boyfriend about the possible theft of offending musicals instruments.

But then Eddie continues with ‘more whistles! I didn’t take you for a fan dude!!’

And promptly shoves one up each of his nostrils and one in his mouth and tries to play them all at once while demanding Steve watch instead of watching the road.

Steves going to have to think of a new hiding spot.

[sguidwards-bestfriend]

New Dimension, Who's This?

honestly writing this cuz I saw @gin2212 's comment and made me teary, so were gunna finish this bad boy! not today but you know... it will happen

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, part 5, part 6

Explicit mentions of death (but of characters that are currently living) Kind of OG version of their deaths

Danny had only walked through the Wayne’s home adjacent gardens once, in a direct route to the barn. Batcow was a highlight of that little excersion.

Now, however, they were actually looking at the shrubbery shaped like boring spheres and rectangles.

He felt Jason become distant and floated back a bit, he’d turned left into a very small opening.

Inside were three unmovable cement benches that curved slightly into one circle. The well cut bushes were wilder in here, making it cramped and impossible to see over the hedge.

“This spot used to be my favorite, when the weather was nice. I’d come out here with a book and whatever drink Alfred had decided to make that day.” Jason looked down at a square of cement in the middle, probably where a table had been. The indents on the side of the seats, likely from the mold it was made from, had moss growing in it.

“This seems like the perfect hideout.” Danny smiled and sat on the bench opposite Jason.

Jason hummed in agreement, he coughed awkwardly even for Danny’s standards and spoke up again. “So, you’re the god of death?” Jason was probably really good at looking casual and intimidating to most people, but Danny could sense the tension emanating from his core as he sat near a branch mere inches from his face with his hands in his pockets, probably wishing he could lean against something to look nonchalant.

“Nope, I’m the king of the dead. They aren’t the same thing.”

“So, you’re not Hades?”

“I hope not, I’ve met him and he’s kind of a dick.”

Jason laughed softly, he liked how it sounded “Okay, cool, so the Greek gods exist.”

“All of the gods do, technically.” He waited for Jason to look at him. “I know it’s hard to wrap your head around, but the infinite realms isn’t really a dimension on its own. It’s the space between all dimensions. When you die you have to pass through it to get to your destination. Some people don’t have a place and they end up part of my realm, some get lost, some sell their soul, others forget their lives entirely and are part of my people from the second they pass over. Then there are the never-borns: souls that form from pure will of the infinite realms. All that is part of my domain.” Danny floated up a bit to try and catch a glimpse of the stars, the smog from Gotham blocking everything. He looked back at Jason and his stomach did a little flip that he decidedly did nothing about. “But just so were clear; hell, the underworld, and all those other things are in the infinite zone. They aren’t all the same thing.”

“Okay. So, you rule over those too?”

“Again no, once a soul gets into the correct dimension, I don’t really have anything to do with it.”

“Wait so if someone who believes in an afterlife sells their soul what happens?”

Danny slouched in the air and grunts, “That’s where all the fucking paperwork comes in. I really want you to imagine the most bureaucratic way to possibly move to a new country, but you have none of your documents. Being stuck in this dimension was a fun break at first, but now all I can think of are the stacks of A-13 forms that are probably covering the castle floors.”

Jason shifted and with it came a wave of uncertainty. “If someone was killed and brought back, what then?”

Danny has seen how ghosts in the zone get when they talk about their deaths. For many it’s all they remember of their life. If a ghost with years to think it through reacts explosively he’s not sure how it will go with a newbie. “Well, a few things. The soul could come back to a place without a body in which case you have a true haunting. If the death was quick, it could have flash formed a core, that’s like a soul that has died fully, and then shoved back into the living body. That’s how you get halfas like me.”

Jason still looked cool and collected on the outside but there was unbelievable turmoil seeping out of him. “What if the body was dead for a while? What if a soul or core was shoved back into a body on purpose?”

“I’ve only seen one revival before, but there was a lot of time warping there. The necromancers I’ve met who were trying to bring someone back didn’t have access to ectoplasm which had results that are very different to… having it.” Danny breathed out to calm himself, letting that calm wave wash over Jason as well. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s alright.” Jason shuffled his leather jacket, “You call it ectoplasm.”

“Yeah.” Danny answered with a lilt in his voice.

“The green goop filled pools you said you emptied, you mentioned they were corrupted.”

“I did yeah.”

“What would happen if someone was exposed to that?”

“Honestly, it’s not the first time I’ve come across it but never that much. For ghosts it can leave them sick and weak for days. Not like polluted water, more like if you switched out the water a healthy person drank for soda exclusively. It won’t kill them, but it will have a negative effect.” Danny thought for a second and remembered the one-time Sam got covered in a mix of good and contaminated ecto during a fight with Undergrowth. “I saw how a diluted version of it affected a living person, her mind was warped and she had the same sort of tunnel vision a ghost has if they have a particularly strong obsession.”

Jason took a breath, he’d been going strong so far. Danny may come to regret this, but he put a hand on his shoulder and floated where they’d be face to face, letting his bottom half fade away into the ghostly tail. “I won’t do it if you don’t want me to, but I can subdue your emotions a bit if you want to talk about it.” Jason looked up quickly and Danny scrambled to correct himself. “I haven’t been doing that! Well, like not in a controlling way, more like the ghost version of calming down a friend who’s freaking out. If you pushed past it I wouldn’t hold you back.”

“You should.” Danny couldn’t help the questioning noise that came out of him, “The first year I came back, I don’t remember it well, but I tried to kill Tim… and possibly Damian. If I do go too far hold me back.”

Danny nodded, “Back in the hall, when Tim was taking an unorthodox amount of coffee cups out of his room,” Jason snorted a bit and smiled, “you didn’t fight me stopping your emotions from bubbling over. I think, with even a little help, you do in fact make the right decisions.”

Jason’s hand came up to hold on to Danny’s forearm, “I went out to stop the top villain at the time, the Joker. I really did think I could beat him so I turned off my coms. He… He beat me to an inch of my life and left me to die in the explosion he’d rigged up.” Jason’s body was hot to the touch and he was obviously timing his breaths. “I can still feel the damn crowbar he used whenever I fall asleep. Batman had never been late before; he’d never let something like that go past him. My plan B was him, and he didn’t make it.”

Danny hummed. A benefit of their shared ghostliness in needing not to use his words, he pushed through waves of camaraderie and understanding.

“I had dug myself out of my own grave. I don’t remember much other than pain for months. Then Talia, Damian’s genetic mother, threw me into a Lazarus pit. The first thing I remember seeing was looking up at her terrified face, tinted in green.”

There was anger as he spoke her name, Danny controlled the waves of corrupted ecto that were threating to turn those emotions against Jason’s true wishes.

“I was fifteen, how does someone let a child do that. I was a kid!” Jason’s emotions were switching around and Danny could hear the forming core start too fuss. “I was just a kid.”

Danny came closer and wrapped all four of his arms around Jason, squeezing him just enough to feel a weight on him, but not so much it was restrictive.

Jason still seemed tense so, Danny did the only thing he could think of, he talked of his own death.

“My parents built the first ever physical portal to the realms. I was messing around with friends and they dared me to walk into the useless frame. My parents always had a tendency of forgetting lab safety and making just one mistake in every build. I’m not sure how they managed to put the on button inside it, but I tripped, hitting it on my way down. I could feel every bolt of electricity ripping me apart as the link between worlds opened directly on top of me. I died separate to my body and ended up like this.” Danny moved back and looked down at himself without letting go of Jason. “I tried to tell my parents at first, but they were always busy.

They spent the day I finally gave up trying to trap my sister; thinking she was the ghost their devices we’re picking up.”

Jason rested his forehead on Danny’s, sighing against the cold touch. “How old we-“

“Fourteen.”

“We were kids.”

“Yeah,” Danny kept his forehead against Jason’s. Two arms he left at Jason’s shoulders, the other two caressing his arms.

With a wave of confidence and fear Jason grabbed Danny by the waist and pulled him in for a real hug.

They held each other there, hidden amongst the foliage, until it started to drizzle.

“We should-“

Danny cut him off, pulling back to show the tears running down his face. “Can we go to your room?”

“Yeah, come on.”

They didn’t touch on the walk through the garden, or at the entrance, or in the hall. No, it wasn’t until the door was closed behind them that Danny came forward and just barely touched his arm.

Jason grabs him and pulls him in again, this time resting his chin on the top of Danny’s head. The attempt to calm Danny down just as he had for Jason made him start to cry again, this time much happier.

The surge pushed his kingly nature to shift into something more human. His arms went back to only two, his skin became that of a pale human’s (for the most part), his ears shrank down and his pointy teeth rounded out. And, surprisingly, his form gave him pajamas.

The ecto the change required didn’t accept the contaminated ecto that Jason had sent and Danny sagged into Jason, his knees buckling.

“Hey, hey.” Jason hushed, “I’ve got you.”

He sat Danny on the bed and went to get pajamas for himself. Once changed he laid down beside Danny and curled around him.

Danny was laying on his back, his legs bent over Jason’s thighs, who was laying on his side up against Danny. Creating a cocoon to hold Danny in.

They fell asleep quickly, Danny held Jason's hand on his chest throughout the rest of the night.

Neither of them had nightmares.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

@bjurnberg, @skulld3mort-1fan, @akikkobara @undead-bi-dinosaur, @amyheart19, @phoenixdemonqueen, @not-your-average-url, @seraphinedemort, @theywontletmeusetheoneiwant,  @satisfactionbroughtmeback, @kyrianclawraith, @i-always-say-yea, @gin2212

[incesthemes]

there's an interesting comparison made in playthings on the topic of the home that i keep coming back to. sam and dean are, technically speaking, homeless, and this episode is about a home—a home which, as it turns out, has generations of history behind it. the inn has been in susan's family for over a century. it sits in stark contrast to sam and dean's nomadic lifestyle—sherwin (speaking on behalf of susan and rose) and dean can't connect on these grounds because dean has never really known the stability of a home, and susan and rose have never really known the instability of homelessness.

what i keep thinking about, then, is that sam and dean are paralleled with maggie and rose. these are two characters who are trapped within the confines of their home, swallowed whole by its walls.

maggie can't leave her home, and rose dies to save maggie, willingly trapping herself within it as well. this is a good, happy ending, with both of them finally at peace now that they have each other, alone together forever.

if maggie and rose are trapped within their home, and maggie and rose are sam and dean, then that would imply that sam and dean have a home to be trapped within as well.

i think you can make the argument that the house they're trapped in is their codependent relationship. it's the focus of the season, after all: they're settling into their codependency, learning each other in a new way now that they've accepted this twisted relationship they've chosen. it's the crux of the tension between them as they struggle to understand what codependency means for themselves and each other, misunderstandings popping up left and right because they can't quite get it right. dean is choosing sam, sam is choosing dean, but they're doing it in ways that don't quite match, or ways that have disastrous consequences.

playthings, then, shows a "good" ending for them, a conclusion with hope and promise and ideals. if you consider maggie as sam (the "monster" of the story, the unfortunate child who suffered a fate they had no control over and who simply wants to be loved, to have a family), then dean is rose—the keeper, the one suppressing the monstrosity from affecting those uninvolved until a stroke of weakness allows the monster to leak out, an accident which can only be rectified by self-sacrifice.

in reality, the "monstrosity" is simply a violent loneliness. maggie wants someone to play with, and sam wants to belong inside his family unit. whenever sam isn't accepted into his family, he's pushed instead toward his fate, toward azazel. when dean isn't pulling him closer, he's being pushed toward the monstrosity of destiny. it's a violence of circumstance, a violence brought forth by neglect and ostracization.

the only way to quell the "monster" is through the family. the keeper must die, or rather choose to stay with the "monster" forever. rose dies so that maggie will have a playmate. she placates the spirit and they live happily ever after. it's hopeful, promising. there is a way out of this cycle of tragedy.

just two episodes prior, dean nearly does the same thing. he will die alongside sam so that sam doesn't have to be alone. he will die alongside sam so that he doesn't have to be alone. within the context of croatoan, this was the correct choice that dean made: he abandoned his duty to john and his fate and chose sam above all else. he went against the judgment conditioned into him and followed sam as his moral compass. he embraced whatever monstrosity might spill out of sam and chose it for himself, too, because he couldn't leave sam to suffer alone.

there was a way out of their cycle of tragedy.

the conflict presented in seasons 1 and 2 (and beyond) is that of the winchesters' fates versus their family. as a result, whenever they aren't choosing each other, they're inevitably following the paths to their destinies. playthings therefore shows the "good" end, the way out of that destiny: if they decide to save each other, they will escape their fates as the mythical cain and abel, as michael and lucifer, as hunter and boy king. indeed rose begins the story using hoodoo to bind maggie's spirit, suppressing and rejecting her. they start as opposing forces until they choose love, choose each other, and come together to escape their fates, finally existing on their own terms outside of the story of good and evil.

sam and dean, too, have the ability to transcend their destinies, close the book, and abandon the story. it's exactly what dean tries to do throughout season 2, until azazel forces their hands to move the plot along. while sam is busy fretting about his destiny, dean's head is clear: he's going to save sam, choose sam, destiny be damned. dean goes down the same route as rose. maggie and rose therefore show what could be, what would be if they both abandon the story for each other.

by positing maggie as an allegory for sam, there arises some interesting suggestions about sam's desires and needs. maggie wants someone she can be with forever, without anyone bothering them. someone to play with, to share her every moment with, to be locked in their own little world with for the rest of time. if maggie is sam, then perhaps there is something of these desires within him, as well. sam's violent protectiveness of dean supports this idea, and so does his rather enthusiastic abandonment of society to form a codependent relationship with him—the beginning of season 2 depicts sam as being much more devoted to this codependency than dean is, while dean is struggling with john's death and his new conflict.

maggie's core fear is being alone. this is rather synonymous with sam's core fear of being excluded, and understanding them as parallels develops both of them as characters: sam's isolation mirrors the isolation maggie felt for however many decades rose spent binding her spirit. there's also a fine distinction between sam's core fear and dean's, which is illustrated through this comparison—dean fears abandonment, the people he loves walking away from him. sam on the other hand fears exclusion, which is not exactly the same. exclusion can mean being held at arm's length, knowing that his loved ones are in on something but not himself being part of it. maggie is trapped inside her home; she can't leave. at the same time, her family has grown up around her, and she has watched them become different people without ever being able to interact with them. the binding of her spirit doesn't magically erase her presence from the house; rather, she implies quite directly that she was aware of the time passing when rose was "keeping her away." maggie is an outsider inside the home from which she cannot escape—very much like sam, who is trapped inside his family unable to extricate himself from their confines while simultaneously being isolated from them.

and in this way the pierpont inn—the home—becomes a symbol for the family. the home in playthings transforms from a prison to a sort of freedom and peace when rose chooses to trap herself inside of it alongside her sister. the family is sam's prison, but if he chooses to stay with dean and dean chooses to stay with him, they can trap themselves within its confines and escape the monstrosity lurking outside. and this, the show suggests, is their happy ending, at peace among each other, alone together forever inside the walls of their home.

[boo-its-stress]

So I had a silly little idea about what if Danny was ghost king but he didn’t actually have to be in charge because he is baby. You don’t put a baby in charge you put an adult in charge until baby is ready. Vlad would be the most qualified. But he’s Vlad. So. It needs to be somebody else. Batman. I’m talking about Bruce Wayne. Death touched and not ready to rule the infinite realms in his stead. I’m full of big thoughts on this but instead of organizing them and sharing them I wrote a little Blurbo.

Bruce was on the bat computer writing incident reports on the night’s patrol. It was a quiet night and it looked like everyone might get at least 4 hours of sleep tonight. Well, quiet on the streets of Gotham. The cave was very much not quiet as Tim seemed to have had the stupendous idea to intentionally rile Damian up. Idle hands may be the devil’s playthings but apparently an Idle Tim was more likely to lose all sense of self preservation. He wasn’t too worried yet, he could hear Dick trying to keep the peace which had about 50/50 odds of working.

The sudden silence was the absolute worst thing he could be hearing right now. He spun around in that chair as fast as bathumanly possible and stood up. Prepared to deal with an attempted fratricide. But what he saw froze him in his tracks, though not quite as literally as everything else. Damian was frozen mid leap towards an equally frozen Tim who's laughing face was in the midst of shifting towards regret while Dick was reaching out to catch him. He was instantly on guard for whoever had done this, it would be an unlikely coincidence for him to be the only one (or even one of many) left unfrozen if this was a global event that had nothing to do with him. No this was likely a deliberate act but the question remained if the intent was hostile or not. Not that it really mattered because they froze his boys and he would not be relaxing until that was undone.

He felt a presence above him and threw a batarang even as he was turning to face them. And the batarang passed straight through a floating blue humanoid. A being who radiated an aura of power that was only somewhat ruined by the pendulum clock in their chest and a total lack of concern for the weaponry thrown their way. There was a beat of tense silence before they shifted into the form of a child and gave the impression of raising an eyebrow despite not having any above the unsettling wholly red eyes “Did I catch you at a bad time Bruce? I can come back.” And just like that his guard was up even further. An intruder in the batcave with this kind of power and he knew his name? That could not mean anything remotely good. He was mentally preparing alternative methods of attack should this turn to violence, as most forms of physical attack would be useless depending on what form of phasal shifting that just was.

“Oh there’s no need for any of that Bruce. I’m just here to congratulate you on your ascendancy to Kinghood.” That left him wrongfooted and before he could even muster up a response and begin with any proper Questioning, the being continued. “Well, King Regent at least. The rightful ghost king is still a child and you possess the familial relation necessary to stand in until they’re ready to ascend the throne. Should you choose to refuse this position you have 30 days to find a suitable replacement and contact the high council of the infinite realms with this information.” And just as suddenly as the… Ghost? Just as the possible ghost had appeared, they were gone.

All at once life returned to the world and there was an audible thump as one Robin collided with another. But it was Dick who screamed. For if one were to view things from his perspective, Bruce had teleported from across the room and he thought he was immune to the Batman jump scares now! With Dick and Tim briefly caught up in their own individual terrors it was Damian who noticed something was wrong. He shoved Tim aside with contempt, rising to his feet and dusting himself off as if he felt especially dirty after the physical contact he himself had initiated. “Father? What is it?”

Bruce let out the slightest huff of relief at seeing his boys in motion once more, most wouldn’t notice it at all, but the collection of current and former robins were not most people. They were all at attention, waiting to be told and willing to resort to trickery if he wasn’t in a sharing mood. “Something was in the bat cave.” All three stiffened, knowing this was serious. He returned to the computer to begin a profile on the (man? Ghost? clock?) and also to avoid looking his children in the eye. No need to give away how badly this had shaken him. “They were capable of freezing time selectively. And froze all of you while we spoke. Possibly everyone else. Oracle, is it still 1:27 outside the batcave?”

He could hear rapid fire typing before she replied. “Matches up with the time in Gotham and there’s no noticeable time delay between here and anywhere else on Earth. I’ll have to get back to you on if we fell out of alignment with other planets, but I can tell you there’s no gaps in the footage in the batcave either, it… it looks like you teleported.”

Well that was not comforting news in the slightest. Whoever this was, they were incredibly powerful. Possibly capable of stopping all of time with (hopefully) no consequences. Looks like he might actually have to take what was said seriously. For such a powerful entity would have little reason to lie about such a thing. But could he really? He might have had a few close calls with death but he was still living? His heart was still beating? How could a living man be the reigning king of ghosts? Even as a regent? And regent to who exactly? A child? Is that by human or ghost standards? Bruce seemingly didn’t qualify as a child but would Dick? The ghost had said familial relation which was incredibly vague and unhelpful. Did his adopted children count or was it only Damian? Could it possibly be some distant cousin? He didn’t know and unfortunately he had no leads to speak of. How was he even supposed to contact this High Council of the Infinite Realms? He got the sinking suspicion that was the point. That he wasn’t being given a choice in the matter.

His eldest broke him out of his thoughts with a hand on his shoulder, reading what he’d written before locking eyes with him. “And what exactly did he want to talk about B?”

He couldn’t help the slight downturn of his lips as he answered, “Apparently I’ve been named the Regent King of Ghosts.”

And with the widening of Dick’s eyes and a muffled curse from Tim as he missed a step and collided with a table he couldn’t help thinking he was right. The intruder hadn’t brought anything good.

When he later called Constantine asking if he knew how to contact The High Council of the Infinite Realms and the man promptly swore before hanging up? He was absolutely sure he had found himself tangled up in something that was bound to cause him at least one headache in the near future.

When he found the first green sticky note that appeared between one blink and the next he was ready to have words with whoever put him in this position. He sincerely hoped the King he was playing regent for wasn’t Jason.