#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.

[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.

[melbournenewsvine]

Voters deserve to speak frankly about the states debts

When Victorians head to the polls next month, one of the issues they will have to explore is whether government debt really matters. It’s early days for the country’s campaign, but the Andrews government is giving every indication that it plans to keep borrowing and spending to fund its promises. Meanwhile, Matthew Gay’s opposition vows to introduce a debt ceiling and end “the Daniel Andrews era of spiraling debt and high taxes.” It’s one of the few obvious fault lines that have emerged between the two parties so far. The state’s opposition says it will cap the state’s debt levels, and has pledged to cancel the $35 billion first phase of Labor’s suburban rail ring.attributed to him:Jason South Every homeowner with a mortgage will know that the cost of debt is increasing. Jay, scrambling for momentum, tries to capitalize on the fear of budget spinning out of control in an era of rapidly rising interest rates, high inflation and the prospect of a global recession. The alliance has historically sold itself out as the most economically responsible for the major parties. Jeff Kennett came to power in Victoria in 1992 on the back of the Kerner government’s financial disasters, memorably describing Labor as the “guilty party” to justify cutting public spending and selling off assets. For years, this novel demonized debt in Victoria. As a result, the two post-Kennett Labor governments led by Steve Brake and John Brumby publicly promised that they would maintain a budget surplus of at least $100 million. But not all government loans are bad. When borrowed money is used to finance productive infrastructure, it helps the pie grow, which means debt shrinks in real terms, just as a mortgage becomes more manageable as your pay increases. When too much is borrowed at once, or when money is wasted profligately, governments can get into trouble. loading As our economics writer, Josh Gordon mentioned, Victoria’s debt is increasing exponentially. And by 2025-26 it is expected to reach $167.5 billion in net worth, up from $11.8 billion in 2010-11. It’s a marked increase, if not yet alhttps://www.theage.com.au/national/victoria/where-would-you-cut-spending-or-increase-revenue-to-reduce-victoria-debt-20221005- p5bnbv.htmlarming. The Andrews government says spending to stimulate the economy will eventually return the budget to surplus. And with much of that debt remaining at historically low interest rates, payments for that $167.5 billion in debt aren’t stressful yet. But if the economy fails to shoot up as hoped, or global headwinds grow strong, we may be stuck with that debt for much longer than we’d like, paying it off at higher interest rates. As Tim Piper, Victorian President of the Australian Industry Group said: the age: “We leave our children with it…the level of debt supports everything the government can do, and it is very relevant to each of us.” Source link Originally published at Melbourne News Vine

[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

[jinmukangwrites]

Whumptober 2020 Day 8

Abandoned | Isolation

Ao3

Warnings: Depression, Panic Attacks, Claustrophobia, blink and you'll miss it Suicidal Thoughts.

Dedicated to @ckbookish! Hope you don't mind me tagging you 👉👈

-o-o-o-o-

"That's great, Dami! I'm happy for you."

Dick held the phone between his ear and shoulder, listening to Damian ramble on about an advanced theater class he got into because the teacher felt the current intermediate class he was in was wasting his potential. He carefully scrubbed the sides of the bowl he had just finished eating about five servings of pudding out of and set it off to the side. He wiped his hands then leaned against the counter, smiling. 

"Thank you, Richard," Damian said. His voice was just as stiff and careful as it always was, but Dick could hear the excitement and gratitude sprinkled in there. The kid was opening up. Expressing himself more and more every day in ways the place he came from had never allowed him to. Dick couldn't remember the last time Damian genuinely threatened anyone with violence, let alone threatened Tim. In fact, last he heard, Tim and Damian were going to go to the Gotham Zoo together next weekend. There was no real reason for them to. It was just to attempt at hanging out and Dick couldn't be more proud. 

"When will you be switching to the new class?" Dick asked. While he did, he began to migrate from the kitchen counter towards his bedroom door, careful to not trip on anything that was laying on the floor. Not for the first time this day, week, month, or year, Dick made a mental note to finally deep clean the place. "Like, is this a tomorrow thing or…?"

"At the end of the term, actually," Damian answered, his voice dropping ever so slightly. Dick hummed in sympathy. He sounded very excited about it, it must be agonizing for him to find out he needed to wait another few months for the first term to come to a close. 

"Well, I'm sure you'll have fun being the best in your current class until then," Dick joked, finally reaching the door to his bedroom and placing his hand on the door handle. Damian scoffed over the phone.

"I am not the best, unfortunately." Damian didn't sound that torn up about it, which was good. Admitting someone was better than you was good character growth. It proved that Damian was letting himself start from the bottom of something instead of immediately being at the top. "There is another girl, her name is Abigail. She has been taking classes since she was a toddler because her mother runs a local theater group."

"So she's as good at theater and you are with a sword," Dick confirmed and Damian hummed. 

Dick opened his door, mentally planning out the least tedious way to get undressed, in bed, and asleep as quickly as possible. First he needed to end the phone call, as much as he didn't want to. He started a new job tomorrow, so he needed to be rested. There was a swimming pool downtown that was looking for an assistant coach for the children's gymnastics classes they held there. Dick took up the job the moment he saw it. Or well, the moment he was no longer swinging past it as Nightwing and was back in civilian clothes. There was a good chance that he could work his way up to being a head instructor with his own classes, considering the woman who hired him didn't really seem the type to enjoy children very much. Dick gave it two months tops before she began to just not show up, making it so he was promoted. 

"I suppose so," Damian said, "she won't be moving up with me however. She has… friends in the lower class that she doesn't want to-"

Dick missed out on the rest, because the moment he stepped into his bedroom and closed the door behind him, his feet were knocked out from under him and his phone flung from his hand. Decades of experience made it so he was immediately able to go from zero to a hundred, allowing him to scramble up from the floor and throw a punch at the closest shadow like clockwork.

His fists met air. With wide eyes, he spun around his room, heart in his throat as he tried to figure out what had shoved him to the floor. 

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. All he could see was his messy room, his unmade bed, his open closet, and his closed window.

Suddenly, Dick heard a noise sound across his room from where he threw his phone. Dick rushed across his room and searched for his phone like he had been jolted by a bolt of electricity. He hated how confused and worried Damian's muffled demands sounded. 

"Richard! What happened?!"

There! Dick bent down and reached out his hand to grab the phone-

And then his hand went through the phone. 

Dick stared down at his empty hand and the phone that sat unmoving on the ground, everything going deathly still as he tried to… process what happened. If it was actually real. 

Okay. His nerves were just shot. He tried again, this time a little more slower and careful. He watched with disbelieving eyes as his hand once again just… went through the phone. It just laid there, undisturbed, like Dick wasn't… even there. 

Damian's voice rose in volume and Dick kneeled down, noting now how he was fully grounded on the floor; his shirts and other various objects around him phased through him like holograms. Okay, okay so something was definitely wrong. "Damian?" Dick asked, but Damian didn't say anything, just continued to shout for Dick to answer. 

"Damian!" Dick yelled louder, but Damian didn't say anything that counted as a reply. 

"Richard, if you don't answer me, I will fetch father!"

"Bruce might be a good idea there, Dami," Dick breathed, falling back onto his rear end and watching how he simply went through everything. He brought his hand back to his phone and purposely stuck it through, his fingernail soundlessly tapped the hidden floor beneath. 

Curious, Dick knocked on the wood, and when no noise reached his ears he hit it harder. 

Nothing. He can't touch anything and apparently he couldn't be heard. 

And suddenly, Dick was filled with the crippling realization that he had… no idea what to do now. He just sat there, listening to Damian panic until he eventually hung up to fetch Bruce. Dick sat there, running his fingers through everything he couldn't touch around him until he knew the entire space around him by heart. Dick sat there, and it took him… awhile to work up the energy to stand up and figure this out. But when he did, he forced himself to not let the confusion, horror, and fear stop him. He walked around the room first, looking for something that must have made him like this. There were no sigils that he could see, and if one was hidden under the things he had left on the floor, he wouldn't know because no matter how hard he focused or how many times he tried, he couldn't get anything to move. He went to sit down on his bed to think this through, but then his hand went straight through the mattress and he barely caught himself in time to avoid landing on his rear.

Thoroughly freaked out now, he ran through his dresser, heart pounding to the upbeat rhythm of his phone as Bruce began to call him. Dick didn't pick up the phone, he knew he wouldn't be able to. 

He couldn't touch anything. He couldn't. Touch. Anything. His feet would hit the ground and have no volume. His hands would slap against the wall but nothing would sound. He tried not to panic, but when he went to go out his door, it didn't move. He tugged on the door handle. It didn’t budge. Not a single millimeter. 

And okay. Okay he was beginning to panic now. He sprinted to the window and slammed his elbows against it, but it was like the glass was replaced with a transparent sheet of solid steel. 

Was this some sort of hallucination? Had whatever knocked him down drugged him somehow? Did he hit his head?

He was hyperventilating—this he knew for sure but suddenly he didn't know how to stop it—and without thinking he ran back to his door, banging his silent fists against the wood and tugging on the frozen in place handle. 

Oh gods. This was really happening wasn't it? Somehow, he had found himself unable to move anything. Unable to go anywhere. Unable to- to-

His knees gave out, causing him to slide down against the door and press his forehead against the unmovable force before him. He couldn't- he couldn't breathe. Somewhere, at the back of his head, a voice told him that he could breathe. He could take breaths right now and calm down. He could count five things he could see, four things he could touch, three things he could hear, two things he could smell, and one thing he could taste. He could calm down and think rationally and explore his situation a bit more calmly. But the moment he opened his eyes after not realizing he had them closed in the first place and saw his leg phasing through his empty trash can he knew he couldn't go anywhere from there without having a full blown mental breakdown. 

So he closed his eyes, tried making noise on the door once again, and tried to keep his breakdown to a minimum. 

Just hyperventilating. Just fading. 

"Help!" He shouted before he could really consider what good that would do. He was at the top floor of his building and the neighbors across from him weren't home until early in the morning thanks to the graveyard shift. No one will hear him… even if he could be heard. 

His phone began to ring again and Dick stuck his fist into his mouth and bit down on his knuckles to keep from screaming. 

He sat there—trying and failing to breathe, trying and failing to not cry—and continued to sit there until eventually, he found himself leaning against the door with half lidded and tearful eyes, staring at how his body continued to not touch a single thing.

He let his eyes fall shut one final time and let the stress and anxiety and confusion whisk him away into a very troubled slumber.

-o-o-o-o-

When he woke up he was immediately made aware that his current situation was, in fact, not a nightmare. 

And so much worse than what he could even predict. 

He awoke to him falling backwards, a crick in his neck and spine suddenly becoming undone as the door he was leaning against suddenly opened, hitting his head with a disquietingly silent bonk on the floor of his living room. For a hopeful, blissful moment he thought whatever happened before he passed the fuck out was all fake and he had just imagined the entire thing, but then he opened his eyes and lifted his head…

Just to see a pair of legs sticking out from the middle of his  intangible chest.

His breath hitched, his eyes flicking up to see a worried Bruce literally standing inside of him. The threat of hyperventilating once again became a very real thing as Bruce stepped past him, into the room, and started calling his name. 

"Bruce!" Dick shouted, scrambling up from the floor and running back into the room that had previously been his impenetrable prison. He instinctively tried to grab his shoulder, but ended up flinching back violently when his hand simply went through Bruce. He couldn't feel Bruce at all. None of the course fibers of his winter coat brushed against his touch receptors. "Bruce! I'm here!" He tried again, but surprise surprise, it didn't work.

"Is he there?" A new voice said, and Dick just managed to turn around in time to watch Damian walk into the room with wrinkles between his brow and bags under his eyes, shining black against his olive skin. Dick jumped away from Damian's path as he approached their father and watched with a frown as Bruce bent down and picked up his discarded phone.

Then, Dick's phone suddenly began to ring, causing Bruce to scowl. Frightened, confused, and curious, Dick slowly approached to read his phone's screen. 

It was close to 6am. Bruce must have driven here as quickly as he could after Damian probably took a few hours to panic to himself and work up the courage to tell Bruce that he thought something was wrong. Though, Dick didn't ponder over why they were here so early for very long. The number calling belonged to his new boss.

He was supposed to be at work thirty minutes ago.

"Shit," Dick breathed, stepping back as Bruce clicked the answer button on the phone and held it to his ear.

Immediately, there was the sound of the lead coach’s nasally voice. Coach Shah. Short, lean, toned, full of freckles, and rocking curly red hair. The woman who was definitely a phenomenal gymnast, but probably shouldn't be allowed to work closely with kids with her grumpy attitude. She didn't sound entirely upset from the muffled tones on the other side of the speaker. Maybe she was saving the angry for later, letting the passive aggressiveness of her annoyance at him for being late to his first day of work steadily drip into her tone. 

Bruce finally opened his mouth. "I'm sorry, but I'm not Mr Grayson."

Dick winced at the sound of her confused squawk. Bruce proceeded to explain that he was Dick's father, and that he couldn't find Dick anywhere. Bruce's frown slowly began to deepen as Coach Shah began to probably explain that Dick was her newest assistant and that she hadn't seen him. Shockingly, the phone call didn't end with Dick being immediately fired. Just with Bruce clicking the screen off and looking down at Damian with barely contained worry. 

"You said he just shouted then stopped responding?" Bruce clarified.

Damian nodded, looking at the phone still in Bruce's hand like it had threatened him. 

"Okay," Bruce sighed, brushing his free hand over his jaw. "Okay. Let's look for signs of struggle."

And this was how you could immediately tell that the Wayne family was nowhere close to normal. Normal families would call the police. 

The batfamily searched on their own, then only called the police later to keep up the civilian facade. 

Dick stepped slowly back, then flinched forward when his shoulders met the walls solidly. The feeling of any walls touching him while his feet stood through the things on the floor almost made him want to bend over and vomit. But thinking about vomiting also made him stress about what would happen then and what the sick would touch or if it would make any noise at all. It was repulsive and horrible to think about, so he found a tiny place of clear flooring that wasn't near any walls and folded his arms across his chest.

He watched Bruce and Damian comb through his room, looking for any signs that his disappearance wasn't on his own power. Dick hoped they found something. A reason for why he was a ghost in his own room. 

A solid thirty minutes passed before Bruce deemed Dick's bedroom clean. Evidence wise. Not literally. Dick was pretty sure his room was in an even bigger mess than what it had been before. He jerked out of the way of Bruce as he walked ignorantly past Dick towards the living room. Damian followed along, dragging his feet. 

It was then Dick noticed Damian's hand wrap around the door’s handle. Pure terror shot through Dick's veins, which gave him just enough courage to quickly dart forward and purposely run through Damian into his living room before he was locked back in there again. He didn't know he was gasping and choking back horrified sobs until he felt the first tear tickle down his cheek and off his chin. 

And this all felt so real suddenly. Like not being able to touch Damian—one of the most important people in Dick's entire life—was what gave it the official stamp of reality.

Dick was a living, breathing, walking ghost. 

He couldn't touch anything. He couldn't be heard. He couldn't open doors or pick up phones or touch the shoulder of the man he had considered his father for longer than he had known his birth father. 

It was all he could do to stand and force himself to breath—but did he even need to keep doing that?—and let his tears silently fall. He watched Bruce and Damian sift through the rest of his apartment and finish empty handed. It was hours later when Bruce suggested going back to the cave and checking Dick's phone for any possible clues. So, after Bruce hid a few sensors around to warn them if Dick "came back", they went to the front door while Dick made sure to stick as close as he could without going through them. He wiped under his eyes as they approached Bruce's car, his heart stuttering when he realized he didn't even know if he could even sit in the car with them without phasing through the seats. He might have to walk back to Gotham. 

That would take… hours. 

And oh God, would he starve? Would he be slowly forced to thirst to death because he couldn't touch any of the substances he needed to live? 

Bruce opened the drivers door and Damian opened the passenger. Instead of thinking about the very real possibility that Dick probably had less than a few days left to live—if he was alive at all—Dick once again forced himself to go through Damian. 

Somehow, against all odds, Dick was able to touch the car. Except, when his knees went through Damian's lap to touch the cushioned chair and his hands shot through Bruce's shoulder to support himself jumping into the back of the car, the normally well padded leather was stony and unrecognizable to his touch. It didn't give under the pressure of his weight or grip. It didn't sink around his touch. It remained like cement. 

It felt like cement. 

Dick curled up in the back seat, his heart jumping madly when both the drivers and passenger doors closed. He suddenly felt like a trapped animal. He had no will here. He didn't even bother to try the door handle of the back seat, because he knew it wouldn't go anywhere. The doors wouldn't open for him. The walls wouldn't bend. He brought his knees up to his chest as Bruce drove onto the road and as Damian turned on the radio. 

And he… simply watched out the window and tried not to make too much noise that no one would hear anyway. 

-o-o-o-o-

Getting out of the car door was more adrenaline inducing than standing toe to toe with Killer Croc. It was a good thing Dick was so flexible and had decades of experience with flipping his way through life. Thanks to that, he managed to jump out of the car just in the nick of time.

Seeing the manor like this hit differently. He was barely aware of Bruce and Damian walking past him towards the front doors until he saw Alfred open those aforementioned doors. Dick had to sprint to get inside, and he tried his best to not flinch as the door shut behind him. He didn't succeed. 

Not that anybody saw. 

"Master Dick?" Alfred asked, and more a heart stopping moment Dick almost thought Alfred was talking to him. 

But then Bruce shook his head and began to shed his jacket. 

"No sign of him. His apartment was locked and there was no sign of forced entry."

Alfred frowned and Damian shoved past them all, his body moving with less confidence than it normally did. Dick watched him go, desperately wanting nothing more than to race after him and gather him into the world's bestest hug, but Bruce was heading to the cave with Alfred trailing along. Dick had to help in whatever way he could to push Bruce into finding out what happened. Damian… could wait. He'll have to wait. It wasn't like Dick could do anything for him if he decided to follow after the clearly upset teen anyway. 

"It's almost like he just vanished, Alfred," Bruce continued, his voice oddly wet. Dick's heart tied itself in a knot. "Into thin air."

"No one simply disappears into thin air," Alfred sniffed. "You will find him."

"Yeah," Bruce agreed, sounding unsure but determined at the same time. They walked into the study and Dick carefully followed them both into the cave through the narrow passage of grandfather clock. 

Bruce quickly got to work and Dick stood back, careful to not touch anything. Bruce started the search as he always did, by sifting through traffic cams around the scene of the crime. And since it was Dick's apartment, he also had access to the normal security measures Dick had installed. 

Hours passed and Dick soon found himself sinking to sit on the floor of the cave, watching as Bruce found nothing after nothing after nothing. 

Dick could relate. He certainly felt like nothing.

-o-o-o-o-

Dick couldn't thirst or starve. He found that out on day three of this entire mess, slinking around from open door to open door, doing nothing but breathing and existing. Well, existing to no one but himself. He hadn't even realized he wasn't starving or dehydrated until Tim, Cass, Jason, and Duke showed up three nights later for a quick family dinner. Dick was touched that Bruce called them, and even more touched that they all came. But, as much as he was touched, he was also jealous of the meal Alfred provided. Frustrated that he didn't exist enough to join. 

Bruce filled them all in on what little they knew on the situation and then they all spent the night patrolling Blüdhaven for clues. Dick didn't get into the Batmobile in time to follow along, so he spent the entire night trapped in the cave with Alfred's silent company. 

He spent the nights wandering the hallways and avoiding everything he could walk through. He'd walk and walk and walk until he'd sit down in the middle of the dining room floor, where the carpet was short and didn't stab him like the shaggy carpet of bedrooms did. Where the animals were least likely to unknowingly fall asleep inside of him. 

On the fifth day, he thought Alfred the Cat was watching him. He cried for hours later when he found the cat was just watching a fly. 

Days ticked on. Dick was reported missing to the police. Damian talked less and less, smiled less and less. The others went back to their lives with "keep me updated" being mumbled before they went. 

Dick continued to not exist. 

When the second week passed by, Dick found himself sneaking outside when Alfred went to get the mail. He didn't know why. Maybe it was because it was raining and he was wondering if he'd be able to feel that. 

He didn't. It just went through him and he ended up being trapped in the cold air outside, exploring the wet grounds and not making a single splash, until night came and Damian let Titus and Ace out for a quick potty break. 

By the time the third week came around, things really started to change. It seemed Bruce was constantly talking to people. The police, the Justice League, Dick's friends, everyone who were trying to track him down… and it killed Dick to stand back and watch, clutching his stomach as nothing turned up and Bruce kept coming up with nothing. Dick wished he could leave some sort of message. A way to tell Bruce that he was right there. Just invisible and silenced. But there. 

Dick would love to tell Bruce that he was right there. But at this point, Dick really began to wonder if he was really there at all. 

What if he was dead? Living people didn't go for three weeks without eating or drinking and remain alive. Alive people don't walk through furniture or get trapped simply by closed doors. 

But he couldn't tell Bruce. Which was why when the third week came up and Bruce once again ran into a dead end, he wasn't really all surprised to watch Bruce angrily hurtle his phone across the room and collapse into his chair with his hands in his hair, dangerously close to ripping the fine strands from his scalp. 

The longer Bruce sat there, the more Dick was sure Bruce had finally given up. Batman couldn't find him. It was the waiting game now. Sit and wait and hope. 

Dick left the room shortly after, his mind racing, loneliness running like a poison through his veins. He went to find Damian, but when he found the kid cuddled in a giant beanbag in the library, Alfred the Cat on his shoulder watching him draw carefully, he knew there wouldn't be anything here to reassure him that he'll be found. He walked around Damian anyway, bending down to look at what he was drawing. 

His heart clenched. It was a portrait of Dick. Damian was carefully working on the details of his top lip, shading each little bump and pore with incredible accuracy. 

Dick didn't look more at it. He left the library and roamed the halls, looking for an open door that he can sneak into and get some alone time. Just to calm down. Just to reassure himself that there was no way his family would leave him like this forever. 

That they haven't truly given up on him. That the whispered words of maybe he's dead and he's not coming back, is he haven't actually been said. 

He finally found a room with an open door and he immediately squeezed inside. The room was smaller, which made his anxiety climb ever so slightly, but it was also close to empty with a clear enough space for him to sit down and meditate without touching and going through anything. The door must have been opened by Damian. The kid had been searching out silent places to be alone quite often recently, sometimes forcing Bruce to search the halls, calling his name loudly until Damian finally revealed himself. 

Dick sat down and breathed.

Of course, it couldn't be so easy. His brain immediately recalled back to Bruce looking defeated. To Damian painstakingly crafting every detail of Dick's face with a pencil like he was worried he'd someday forget what Dick looked like. To Jason not having been over in way too long; reports in Blüdhaven of Red Hood being spotted on multiple occasions. To Tim who accidentally referred to Dick in the past tense a couple days ago and looked sick with himself the moment he realized what he said. To Cass who would somehow stroll the same halls as him when she's over until they pass by his bedroom door and she would stop and frown and walk away. To Duke who looked at his portraits Bruce had on the walls and look like he desperately wanted to understand something that he'd never actually be able to now.

They've all given up. He knew it was only a matter of time before there was an empty casket funeral. 

He wondered if he could make that a reality. Death. He didn't need to eat or drink. What if he just… stopped breathing? What if he clawed out his own throat with his nails? What if the next time Alfred opened a window to air out an old, unused room on the highest floor he just jumped out? 

Or would the world be so cruel as to keep him like this for the rest of eternity? Forced to watch as he's given up on, buried, and forgotten? He didn't want to die. Not like this. Not in name before body. 

And not for the first time since Dick inexplicably became a ghost, he felt his throat choke on the beginnings of a sob. 

He curled up a bit, trying to staunch it because he had quickly become annoyed with the sound of his own voice. Why could he still hear it when no one else could? It was awful. Like his words and noises we're all just in his head and he was only hearing what he thought he should hear. 

He gasped wetly, wiping under his eyes and trying to stop this all from happening again. He had already cried enough these last few weeks. He couldn't keep crying every time he felt alone. 

He bent in on himself further, his arms curling around his stomach in such a way that if he imagined hard enough they belonged to someone else and he was in another's calming embrace. It didn't work though. He knew he was alone. He couldn't pretend. 

He was so deep in this attack of utter turmoil and unhappiness that he didn't notice approaching footsteps until he heard the sound of creaking door hinges followed quickly by a click of a door latch. 

Dick looked up with blurry, panicked eyes. 

The door. The door was closed. 

"No," Dick breathed. "No no-" he scrambled to his feet, all the blood rushed from his head and combined with the terrible spike of horror to make him perfectly lightheaded as he stumbled to the door and wrapped his hands around the knob. It didn't budge. "NO!"

He spun around, barely aware of his already panting breaths and frantically searched the room for a hopefully open window. 

The window was closed. He didn't know why he even looked. 

"Fuck," he gasped, grabbing his chest as it constricted tightly. More tightly than what he had felt in a long time. It felt so painful that it was all he could do to turn and bang a closed fist on the door. He wondered if this was what a heart attack felt like. "HELP!"

He didn't know why he was calling out. Hitting the door like he thought it might make noise. 

No one would hear him. 

"ALFRED!" Dick screamed. "BR-" he was forced to stop mid-word on that one thanks to a heaving gasp that curled dangerously in-between his ribcage. He swallowed. Or tried to. "BRUCE!"

He kicked the door. Covered one hand over his mouth and tried to calm down. Tried to not think about the solid walls and the solid door and how he was powerless to leave this room. Why did he come in here in the first place?!

He couldn't calm down. All he could think about was how screwed he was. How hopeless everything was. He kept his hand on his mouth as his legs eventually gave out. He brought his knees to his chin and laid on his side atop the carpeted floor, babbling cries and names and pleas until his throat was raw and everything woozy. 

He didn't know how or when he finally passed out, only that he woke up to a still closed door and a still small room, and it took every ounce of his will power to not immediately cry again right then and there. He stayed curled up on the ground and closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around his stomach and tried to pretend that everything would work out. Eventually everything would be okay. 

He was wrong. 

It took two weeks for the door to open for Alfred's regular airing out of the rooms to reach the one he was trapped in. 

By then, he didn't even know if he should bother to stand up and walk out. 

Not when he was surely no longer alive. Not when he felt perfectly content just laying here being dead. 

But the thought of that door closing again and him having no power over it eventually managed to force him stumbling to his wobbly feet and walking out. 

He didn't know what to expect when he shuffled slowly deeper into the manor. More than a month has passed since his disappearance. Most people don't keep a whole lot of hope for a missing person to return after this long. By this time, people normally began to suggest funerals quietly between each other. 

It didn't take long to find the family. What shocked him though was that everyone was together in the living room, even Alfred who must have finished opening certain doors and windows to refresh the stale air inside the rooms they belong to and walked back quicker than Dick. A movie was playing, some Pixar movie Dick hadn't seen before because of his busy lifestyle. 

And for some reason, this hurt more than if he came in here to find them alone, mourning, depressed. 

They're all watching a movie together. Bruce on the recliner, Damian squeezed between him and the arm of the recliner even though there was more room in other places. Jason sprawled over the three cushioned sofa, his legs resting over Duke, Cass, and Tim like a makeshift blanket. Alfred had his own recliner to himself, reading a book to himself but occasionally glancing up towards the screen. Steph was there too, but she had made herself comfortable on the floor with the entity of the living room's decorative pillows.

They're all watching a movie together. 

Dick had been trying to get that to happen for months. And they're doing it now, when he's gone with no foreseeable way to get back. 

Dick slowly sank to the floor and watched them poke each other and whisper quips to each other and laugh at the funny bits with each other. 

Was this the life he was doomed to have for the rest of eternity? Chasing open doors and watching people move on from him? Do things simply in his memory? 

If he had tears left to cry, he would have shed them.

Instead, he just sat there and watched. 

-o-o-o-o-

Dick's funeral was four months later. The gossip channels and media said they have finally given up. Dick thought they held on for longer than most. 

He didn't attend his own funeral. He didn't want it to feel final. He didn't want the undeniable proof that they've stopped searching. He didn't want to see them cry for him. 

So he walked the manor grounds opposite of the family graveyard. He kicked his feet as he walked, pretending that his footsteps carried weight on the grass and that he was solid enough to disturb the smallest pebbles on the stone pathway. 

Maybe he was dead. Maybe this was hell. He didn't remember where he went, if he went anywhere, when Lex Luthor killed him, but maybe this was it. He didn't know what killed him or what happened to his body, but he was starting to become convinced that he really was simply a ghost, cursed to walk the world and watch people move on and live on without him. 

Half a year ago, that would have settled horribly into his gut. Now? He was numb. 

He continued to walk, to let his mind drift. Pretend he was alive for a little while longer before he returned to the manor and the services and dinners and receptions were over. Decide what to do now that his life was now officially over. 

He sighed and ignored the feeling that he's just as trapped out here in the manor grounds as he was in that room all those months ago. Ho continued to roam.

Though, the sound of a humming voice had him stopping in his tracks. 

No one should be over here. They all should be back at the funeral. Dick immediately focused on the noise, not even bothering to step carefully or approach cautiously. It wasn't like Dick could be seen or heard anyway. He just wanted to see who had snuck into these parts of the grounds while his literal funeral was going on. It was strange and horrible to think about, but come on? A little respect please? He hoped it wasn't some paparazzi. It meant that they'd somehow gotten through Bruce's security… which also meant that Bruce was more depressed about this than what Dick initially thought. He'd seen Bruce get low these past few months, but never low enough to sacrifice the safety of the people he provided shelter to. 

Dick walked towards the grove of trees that the humming was coming from and frowned when he eventually saw the back of a person strolling through the controlled nature. The man was taller than Dick—which wasn't a difficult achievement—and was wearing a simple brown-orange hoodie with dark blue jeans. His hair was dirty blonde and styled up like someone glued a giant ball of cotton to his scalp. Dick didn't recognize him, which instantly set off alarm bells inside his head. The open house reception should be over but the rest of the services were all reserved for close family and friends of Dick's. But this man… he couldn't be someone that was invited. 

Not for the first time, Dick felt the crippling weight of helplessness wash over him. This man could be dangerous, but Dick couldn't do a thing. He couldn't warn anyone. 

He could just watch it happen. 

Or… ignore it. 

He shook his head and sighed, stuffing his hands into the pockets of the same pair of sweats he'd been wearing since that fateful night half a year ago. He almost began to approach further, because even though he was helpless to change anything or warn anyone, he was still curious… but then the man turned around and Dick was stopped in his tracks. 

He didn't... He didn't have a face. 

Dick gaped and watched as the bumps in the man's face that must be cheekbones rose ever so slightly. 

"Oh!" The man said, even though he had no mouth. Dick had absolutely no idea where the sound came from. "You are here!" 

Dick turned around behind him, and saw nobody. Something fluttered in his chest. A hope he didn't dare grasp at even though… even though… the man could only be talking to him. 

"We lost track of you after the convergence. Most people stick around where they disappear!" 

"Are you…" Dick tried, his voice barely recognizable even to himself, "are you talking to me?" 

The limited features of the man's blank face softened. "Yes I am, Dick Grayson. You've been lost a long time."

And Dick… didn't know what to do. This entire time he's had absolutely no contact with anything in the world. He couldn't move anything, couldn't touch anything, couldn't speak or make himself known. This scene before him, one where his voice was heard and he was answered… it was so foreign. Unreal. Dick almost reached down to pinch himself. 

"But luckily," the man continued, "after a long time searching for you at your home city, we figured you must have found a way to your family. That or began to aimlessly wonder like others like you sometimes do."

"Like… me?" 

"Yes," the man nodded then took a step closer. Dick stood his ground as his thoughts ran circles in his brain. What was going on? "You're trapped within the folds of reality, Dick Grayson. It's not something that commonly happens, but something that can be catastrophic if we cannot find you immediately." He paused. "You are Nightwing in this world, are you not? You must understand how the universes work in odd ways."

Dick wanted to nod. Laugh. Cry. Step forward and see if he could touch the man. But he didn't. He just stood there as the man continued. 

"You see," the man said, bringing a hand up to his featureless chin, "what happened was that this universe brushed sides with another one. One that's almost exactly the same in every aspect to yours. Normally, when universes brush, they're so different that they reject each other and go on their merry way down the time stream. The problem was, that because these two universes were so similar, reality as we knew it, well, it got a little confused. It tried to sort out what belonged to what. It gets it wrong sometimes, which is why you're like this. In the universe you brushed with, Dick Grayson was dead. Everything else was exactly the same, but because you were dead and alive the universe decided to make you both. This is why you're stuck here. The universe can't remember if you should be living or dead."

Dick never pretended to understand the multiverse. It always seemed the rules were constantly changing. Shifting to accommodate spontaneous things. It seemed the only one who truly had a grasp on the entirety of the universe was Bart Allen, but the kid was shockingly tight lipped about most secrets of reality despite his superhero name of Impulse. 

And really, Dick didn't care how he ended up like this. All he could really think was how this man could see him. Was looking for him. Something was finally going to change. Whether he was supposed to be fully dead or fully alive... He didn't really care.

He couldn't stand around, trapped in his own intangible body, and do nothing for much longer. 

"So… what does this mean?" Dick asked. "What happens now?"

The man's face squished oddly, and Dick couldn't figure out what he was thinking at all. "What happens now is that we make things right. Return you to the universe you're supposed to be dead in, and keep you in the universe you're supposed to be alive. It will be painful, but don't worry, neither of you will remember a thing."

"Neither-?" 

Dick's question didn't get much further, because in an impossible blink of an eye, the man was right in front of Dick, hand pressing against the side of his head with his thumb pressed above the bridge of Dick's nose. Lightning shot through him, and his vision whited out. Everything became too much and so little at the same time. Hot and cold. Loud and silent. He might have screamed or he might have sighed.

Either way, the sensation didn't last for long. 

Soon he wasn't feeling anything at all.

-o-o-o-o-

Damian hated this. He knew death and sorrow unlike most others. He had seen men and women fall in so many ways it was impossible to list them all. He had seen the way a corpse would slowly rot, and stink, and collapse. He had seen bodies feasted upon by wolves and flies alike. 

He knew death. Yet, for a number of reasons, he just couldn't comprehend this one. 

Because Richard couldn't be dead. He couldn't be. He was simply missing. Nowhere to be found. 

He wasn't dead. 

Damian didn't understand why everyone else insisted on believing otherwise. Father had said that he's searched, and for some reason that meant if Batman couldn't find him then he must not be able to be found. No one besides Damian argued with him. Even Timothy didn't believe him.

He at least had the decency to look ashamed when Damian called him out on it. 

However, it seemed Damian's thoughts and feelings on the matter didn't, well, matter. Even though he was the last one to speak to Richard. Even though he knew for sure that Richard was somewhere alive out there, doing everything he could to get home. Damian swore he would continue to believe in that. No matter what. Even if these months turned into years. Even if Damian no longer remembered every detail of his face by thought alone. 

Father wouldn't let him skip out on the fake funeral though. 

Which was horrible for a massive amount of reasons. All of Richard's friends were here, sobbing and blabbering like children. The empty casket sat above a deep hole with flowers piled on top, and one by one someone would approach, say something emotional out loud or under their breath, then leave the flower in the mockery of Richard's life. 

Damian was glad that his immediate family went first. That way he could slink to the back of the crowd and hold Titus by the leash. Watch from afar. Plan for the millionth time on how he was going to fix this. 

That speedster… Wally West was in the middle of breaking down on top of the casket with large tears cascading down his cheeks when Damian felt a tug on the leash. Damian frowned and looked down at his normally perfectly behaved dog to see the animal trying to tug Damian towards the unoccupied grounds of the manor. Damian tugged Titus gently back, tutting at him under his breath. 

Except, Titus didn't stay at Damian's side for long. The animal took one wide eyed look at Damian before turning tail and sprinting. The leash was yanked out from Damian's hand, and it was all Damian could do to not shout in surprise or outrage. 

He nervously shot a look at the casket, where Donna Troy was now saying her goodbyes while West leaned onto her for support, making sure no one was watching him, then turned to chase after his disrespectful dog. 

It might be a fake funeral, but it was a funeral nonetheless. 

Damian ran after Titus, jumping over shrubbery and flowers like they were the gaps between rooftops, diving for the trailing leash whenever he got close enough. 

He never got close enough. 

Out of breath and covered in grass stains and twigs, Damian watched with glaring eyes as Titus took refuge in a carefully planned grove of trees. Thankfully, Damian saw the dog halt on the other side of a bush, bending his neck down to sniff at something. Probably a wild animal. Even though Damian could have sworn he trained Titus better than to chase rabbits or squirrels. 

Damian stuffed his hands in his suit pockets and began to stomp his way over. 

"Titus! Quit this misbehaving!" 

Titus looked up from what he was sniffing, whined, then bent back down. Completely ignoring Damian. 

What was going on with that dog? 

Damian walked around the clump of bushes and between the trees, extremely curious as to what was so important that Titus would disregard orders for it.

When Damian saw what Titus was bent over, Damian felt every single molecule of air leave his body like he had been sucker-punched in the stomach. 

"Richard?" Damian breathed. Double took. "Richard!" 

He sprinted forward and Titus quickly jumped out of the way. Horrified and terrified and shaking, Damian grabbed Richard's shoulders and turned him around, for he was laying face down on the ground. 

Richard groaned, but didn't open his eyes. Blood trickled down the corners of his lips and nose. His clothes were filthy. He looked like death. 

But he was alive.

Damian turned to his good, good dog. "Go! Get father! Hurry!"

Titus didn't have to be told twice. He barked then sprinted back to the forest. 

Damian turned back to Richard, running his hands across his body, taking in the loss of weight, the eye bags, the stains of mud all over his clothes. He shook his shoulders, trying to wake him up, but Richard remained asleep to the world. 

It took a second to realize he was crying. 

Thankfully, he was able to wipe them away when a confused and worried Bruce Wayne busted into the grove of trees along with the rest of the family and even a few of Richard's friends. Gasps and shouts filled the air, and Damian soon found himself pushed back as Dick was rushed to by the adults. 

The ambulance was called not long after. 

The drive to the hospital seemed like a dream. 

The wait felt like it took years, but Richard only took about three hours to wake up, severely starved and dehydrated and not a single memory of the past five months.

And somehow, everything went back to normal. Richard was released from the hospital a few days later with a strict meal plan and physical therapy schedule. His memories didn't return, but sometimes Damian noticed things had changed in Richard since then.

Like his new and strange fear of small spaces and closed doors.

It didn't matter though. Damian was just… overjoyed that he was right and that Richard was still living a breathing, even if it seemed he had simply vanished and reappeared from thin air, with no trace of anything in-between. 

All that mattered was that the family was whole again. Richard was on the road of a full recovery. 

No one could ask for more. 

[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."

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

Warming up for the Sun Today, the Solar Orbiter control team is simulating launch for the penultimate time, before the Sun-seeking spacecraft lifts-off for real. After months of nerve-wracking simulation training, which has seen the control team play out a range of scenarios where something goes wrong, mission control is almost “green for launch”. On 6 February (CET), Solar Orbiter will begin its loopy journey through space on the way to the Sun. With the help of gravitational assists from Earth and Venus, and a series of chemical thruster burns, the spacecraft will reach a unique high-inclination orbit that will allow it to take the first pictures of the Sun’s poles. Reaching this orbit, and safeguarding the spacecraft from the intense heat and radiation as it carries out its scientific mission, will require tricky operations back on Earth. Simulating a boom! To ensure Solar Orbiter’s safety as best they can, teams at ESA’s ESOC mission control are currently rehearsing the Launch and Early Orbit Phase (LEOP) of the craft’s mission, during which time the spacecraft ‘wakes up’ and solar panels and instrument booms are deployed. This is a critical and risky part of the mission’s lifetime, and the teams will need to be prepared for every eventuality. No two missions flown from the Operations Centre are the same. Every mission brings with it a unique set of challenges that can be explored during simulations. For Solar Orbiter, during LEOP, the craft has to deploy a ‘boom’. Measuring 4.4 metres in length when fully extended, this tail-like extension carries four of Solar Orbiter’s scientific measuring instruments. “The booms are deployed before all thrusters can be fired on the spacecraft, as some thrusters can potentially contaminate the instruments onboard,” explains Andrea Accomazzo, Flight Director for the mission. “The sooner all thrusters can be fired, the more efficiently they can be used and more fuel can be saved”. This makes the first few days after launch particularly time sensitive. While some thrusters are used immediately to control the spacecraft’s orientation, or ‘attitude’, if the boom fails to deploy on time, the craft could be more restricted in which thrusters to use without risk of contamination. Fail to prepare and prepare to fail LEOP simulations began on 10 September 2019 in which teams brainstormed boom deployment and other challenging events. These could be anything that destabilises the control team, such as a team member suddenly becoming sick or a computer crashing, to critical errors that threaten the safety of the mission, such as a failure to establish communication with the spacecraft or a problem deploying its solar panels. The final two simulations will see the control team – split into two, to provide round-the clock operations during the high-stress early days of the mission – run through a ‘nominal’ launch and early orbit, in which everything goes to plan. Today is the turn of the blue team, and on 23 January, the green team. Finally, the dress rehearsal will take place on 31 January, during which time teams at mission control run through the launch sequence and test communication between mission control, the launch provider and of course, the satellite, just days before launch. “The first few days of the mission are challenging and exciting! After our intense training in recent months, the team is hopefully ready to tackle any issue which may arise,” explains Sylvain Lodiot, Spacecraft Operations Manager for the mission. “Fortunately, we have more than 100 years of combined experience flying space missions in our division, from the Rosetta landing, to BepiColombo and Venus Express. We’re now looking forward to seeing the Sun in a light no-one has before”. TOP IMAGE....Artist impression of ESA’s Solar Orbiter in front of the Sun (not to scale). The Sun is based on an image captured by NASA’s Solar Dynamics Observatory, and has been adapted for this artistic view. spacecraft: ESA/ATG medialab; Sun: NASA / SDO / P. Testa (CfA) CENTRE IMAGE....Solar Orbiter will fly in a series of complex orbits to get into operational orbit, altered by gravitational assist manoeuvres using Venus and Earth. ESA LOWER IMAGE....Labelled diagram showing a cutaway of Solar Orbiter's suite of ten science instruments that will study the Sun. There are two types: in situ and remote sensing. The in situ instruments measure the conditions around the spacecraft itself. The remote-sensing instruments measure what is happening at large distances away. Together, both sets of data can be used to piece together a more complete picture of what is happening in the Sun’s corona and the solar wind. The in situ instruments: EPD: Energetic Particle Detector EPD will measure the energetic particles that flow past the spacecraft. It will look at their composition and variation in time. The data will help scientists investigate the sources, acceleration mechanisms, and transport processes of these particles. Principal Investigator: Javier Rodríguez-Pacheco, University of Alcalá, Spain MAG: Magnetometer MAG will measure the magnetic field around the spacecraft with high precision. It will help determine how the Sun’s magnetic field links to the rest of the Solar System and changes with time. This will help us understand how the corona is heated and how energy is transported in the solar wind. Principal Investigator: Tim Horbury, Imperial College London, United Kingdom RPW: Radio and Plasma Waves RPW will measure the variation in magnetic and electric fields using a number of sensors and antennas. This will help to determine the characteristics of electromagnetic waves and fields in the solar wind. RPW is the only instrument on Solar Orbiter that makes both in situ and remote sensing measurements. Principal Investigator: Milan Maksimovic, LESIA, Observatoire de Paris, France SWA: Solar Wind Plasma Analyser SWA consists of a suite of sensors that will measure the solar wind’s bulk properties, such as density, velocity and temperature. It will also measure the composition of the solar wind. Principal Investigator: Christopher Owen, Mullard Space Science Laboratory, United Kingdom The remote-sensing instruments: EUI: Extreme Ultraviolet Imager EUI will take images of the solar chromosphere, transition region and corona. This will allow scientists to investigate the mysterious heating processes that take effect in this region and will allow connecting in situ measurements of the solar wind back to their source regions on the Sun. Principal Investigator: David Berghmans, Royal Observatory Belgium. Metis: Coronagraph Metis will take simultaneous images of the corona in visible and ultraviolet wavelengths. This will show the structure and dynamics of the solar atmosphere in unprecedented detail, stretching out from 1.7 to 4.1 solar radii. This will allow scientists to look for the link between the behaviour of these regions and space weather in the inner Solar System. Principal Investigator: Marco Romoli, INAF – University of Florence, Italy PHI: Polarimetric and Helioseismic Imager PHI will provide high-resolution measurements of the magnetic field across the photosphere, and maps of its brightness at visible wavelengths. It will also produce velocity maps of the movement of the photosphere that will allow helioseismic investigations of the solar interior, in particular the convective zone. Principal Investigator: Sami Solanki, Max-Planck-Institut für Sonnensystemforschung, Germany SoloHI: Heliospheric Imager SoloHI will take images of the solar wind by capturing the light scattered by electrons particles in the wind. This will allow the identification of transient disturbances in the solar wind, such as the type that can trigger a coronal mass ejection, in which a billion tons of coronal gas can be ejected outwards into space. Principal Investigator: Russell A. Howard, US Naval Research Laboratory, Washington, D.C., USA SPICE: Spectral Imaging of the Coronal Environment SPICE will reveal the properties of the solar transition region and corona by measuring the extreme ultraviolet wavelengths given off by the plasma. This data will be matched to the solar wind properties that are subsequently detected by the spacecraft’s in situ instruments. European-led facility instrument; Principal Investigator for Operations Phase: Frédéric Auchère, IAS, Orsay, France STIX: X-ray Spectrometer/Telescope STIX will detect X-ray emission coming from the Sun. This could be from hot plasma, often related to explosive magnetic activity such as solar flares. STIX will provide the timing, location, intensity, and energy data for these events so that their effects on the solar wind can be better understood. Principal Investigator: Säm Krucker, FHNW, Windisch, Switzerland ESA/ATG media lab BOTTOM IMAGE....ESA’s next-generation Sun explorer, Solar Orbiter, will be launched in 2018. It will investigate the connections and the coupling between the Sun and the heliosphere, a huge bubble in space created by the solar wind. The solar wind can cause auroras and disrupt satellite-based communication. ESA/AOES

[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…

[reallyautomaticvoid]

Calling It Good Intentions: Chapter 6: You Know What They Say About Assumptions

Selina talks about brunch. Garth and Dick catch up. And then the Titans make a plan.

Bruce glares at the Batcomputer.  A week flew by since Batman and Tim had their conversation.  Though Bruice tried to…rearrange Tim’s out town Breakfast meeting, and, failing that, tried to cancel Tim’s plane ticket but found out that Tim had bought three…going to three different places so Bruce isn’t even sure what where Tim went.  

So he’d made a few calls to find out if anyone at WE knew where Tim had gone.  Bruce had been met by an irritated Tam who had informed him that, as far as she knew, Tim didn’t have any out of town breakfast meeting.  And what did Bruce mean Tim wasn’t in Gotham anymore?  

Bruce shrank back from Tam’s anger before remembering that he’s Batman.

So, after an intense conversation with Tam, who, somehow, got more answers out of him then Bruce got out of her which he did not like, but did respect, Bruce found himself going over all the recent data the Bats had on Tim which wasn’t much.  

A few blurry photos of Red Robin with the Titans and who is Tim Wayne dating now tabloids articles is all he and O could find.

Bruce is using his best Batman glare on his unhelpful computer when he feels a pair of hands rubbing on his shoulders.  

“You know, if you keep staring at the screen like that, your face might freeze that way.” Bruce’s grimace deepens.  “Yeah, that’s better.”  Selina laughs.  “What’s wrong?”

“Tim.”

Selina straightens.  “What?  Is he okay?  Oh shit, he’s in the hospital again, isn’t he?  Damn it, I told him to call me the next time that happens.  I can—” Bruce interrupts her.

“He’s fine.  Well, physically, as far as I can tell.”  Bruce scowls at his computer.  “I just can’t tell a whole lot right now.”

“Well, you are looking at Gotham’s Most Eligible Bachelors Under Twenty-Five.”  Selina clicks her tongue.  “Dick will be so disappointed to know that he didn’t make the cut.”

“He’s over twenty-five.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”  Bruce snorts because, point.  Selina kisses Bruce’s temple.  “There’s a laugh.  So tell me, what brought on this sudden bought of worry?  Tim seemed fine the last time I saw him.  Maybe a little tired.”

Bruce stills.  “When was that?”

Selina hums.  “A week ago?  Maybe two?  We had brunch.”

“You had brunch?”  Bruce’s mind refuses to accept this new piece of information.  

How had Selina seen Tim so recently when Bruce had not?

“Yes.  Brunch.  We get brunch every time he’s in town.  Or, at least we try to get it.”  Bruce finally turns around to face her.  Selina gives him an odd look.  “Yes?”

“Why didn’t I know about this?”  Bruce struggles to keep his tone neutral. 

Selina’s eyebrows shoot up.  “Oh, I didn’t realize I needed to tell you every time I had a meal with one of your kids.  Heads up, I’m having lunch with Dick next week, and I’m getting coffee with Damian later today.”

Bruce flinches at her tone.  “That’s not what I meant.”

“Okay.  What did you mean?”

 “I haven’t talk Tim in or out of the uniform for months before last week.”

“I know.”

Bruce’s eyebrow furrow.  “How do you know that?”  

“Whenever you talk to one of your kids, you always brag about them.  You tell me what they’ve been doing and how they’ve been.  What member of the Rogue’s Gallery they’re taking on this week.”  Selina shrugs.

“Okay.”  Bruce nudges her when she stops talking.

Selina gives Bruce a piercing look.  “You’ve stopped talking about what Tim’s doing.  You didn’t mention him at all when I knew he was in town.”

“Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

Selina gave Bruce a what?  Am I new here? look.  “I figured you guys had a fight or something.  I thought you’d tell me about it when you were ready.”  She pauses while she searches Bruce’s face.  Bruce isn’t sure she found what she was looking for when she continues,  “I thought that you were still…disappointed in Tim.”

Bruce turns away from Selina, shame burning in his gut.  “We’ve gotten past that.”

“Really?”  Selina's voice is dripping in disbelief.  “Because you haven’t talked about Tim since then.”

Bruce grits his teeth, not saying anything.  

*     *     *

Dick and Barbara had been up for days looking through computer logs.  It had been nine, almost ten, months since Red Robin had sent out a distress call to any of the Bats.  Almost as long since he filed any report on the Batcomputer.  

Damian was right; Tim had fallen off of Dick’s radar, and Dick hadn’t noticed.

Babs had gone home hours ago to get some sleep.  Dick, however, had yet to be able to get any.

Dick sighs as he ruffles his hair.  He glances at his cellphone.  

It’s not going to be that bad. It’s not like you’re asking them to give you a liver or something.  

Somehow, Dick thought it’d be easier to get a liver.

Finally, screwing up some courage, Dick dials his phone.

“You’ve reached Titans’ Tower.  If you’re calling to make a noise complaint, please press one now.  If you’re calling to make a complaint about the smell, please press two now.  If you’re calling to report the giant sea monster that’s coming out of the ocean, please call again later.”

Dick snorts. “Hilarious, Garth.”

“I try.”  Garth chuckles.

“How are you?”

“Well, other than I’m on monitoring duty, again, which sucks, I can’t complain.  You?” Dick could just see Garth laying on the couch watching TV while waiting for something exciting to happen while he stuck on monitoring duty.

“Been better. How’s Rae?”

“Magical.” Dick hears the smile in Garth’s voice.  “She’s meditating right now.  Did you want to talk to her?  I could see if she can talk.”

“No, no. That’s okay.  I was—I was just hoping you could do me a favor.”

“Dick, I don’t care if it’s in vogue again, I’m not getting a mullet.”

“It was a phase.  Are you ever going to let me live that down?” Dick laughs.  

“Probably not, no.  Have you seen the picture?”

“No, I destroyed all of them.  Although, Babs might still have some.  Last thing I need is for Damian, or worse, Jason, to find them.  God, they’d probably end up taking out a billboard.”

Garth howls with laughter. “Tell them I’ll chip in for that. That’d be hysterical.  Gotham most eligible Bachelor.  Man, I can just see your face!”

“Don’t you dare give them that idea.”

“Do you think I’d do a thing like that?” Dick could hear the glee drip in Garth’s voice.  

“Yes!”

“Fine, fine.  I won’t give them any ideas.  Chillax man.” Dick makes a mental note to check there weren’t any photos floating around the manner.  

Just to be sure. 

“So, why’d you call, Dick.” Gar asks as he munching on something crunchy.

“I need a favor, Gar,” Dick repeats.

“Yup, you said that already,” Garth crunches.

“And I want you to be honest with me.”

“Sure man.  Whatever you need.”

“Can you—How’s Tim doing?” Dick winces at the awkwardness in his own voice.

The other end of the line goes dead.

Dick takes he’s phone away from his ear to check the call hadn’t dropped.

It hadn’t.

“Why?”  Garth’s voice has a hard edge to it that Dick isn’t used to hearing.  

Not even on Slade after the whole Terra thing. 

Gar, the Titan who’s first to make a joke or pithy comment, is pissed.

“What-?”

“Why the sudden concern?” The hard edge of Garth’s voice increases while the volume hush.  

Dick shrinks back from the sound.

“It has recently come to my attention that I may have…I may have slipped up a bit in the brotherly department.”

Garth give a humorless laugh. “Slipped up a bit,” he repeats. “Jesus, Dick, I never pegged you as stupid before.”

“Gar, I know—”

“No, you don’t know.  You don’t know the half of it.  Hell, you probably don’t even know an eighth of it.”

Dick rubbed his temples. “So tell me.”  

It is just shy of begging, but Dick couldn’t bring himself to care.  Dick was ready to do just about anything if it meant getting his brother back.

“No,” Dick winces at the tone.  “Look, Dick, we’ll always be friends, and I’ll always value your friendship but you—you and the rest of the Bats—made this mess.  Now,” Gar give another grim laugh, “it’s up to you and the rest of the Bats to clean it up.”

Dick’s head fall back onto his pillow.  He hadn’t expected to get this much resistance (or anger) from Garth.  It was one of the reasons why Dick had gone to him.  Raven…well, he’s sorta surprised (and really, really relieved) that he isn’t in a Hellish dimension fighting off demons in his underwear.  

Again.  

Dick shutters at the memory.  It’s never fun when Raven’s pissed at you.

“I just—how about a jumping off point?” Dick was begging at this point, and both Dick and Garth knew that. “Or calling if he’s in real trouble?”

“No, Dick, I’m not spying on my teammate for you.” Gar’s icy tone make a shiver go down Dick’s spine.  “Besides, we did that.”  

Dick raises his head. “What?”

“After an attack from N.O.W.H.E.R.E., Rave and I called you.  Completely disregard Tim’s wishes, by the way.  He made it clear when he came back with the new suit that he didn’t want anything to do with you guys.  Said you guys didn’t care about him anymore.  Said that you guys had a new Robin and didn’t care about Red Robin anymore.” 

Dick’s blood ran cold.

How could he think that?  How could he believe they didn’t care about Red Robin?  

Dick, of course, knew the answers to these questions:  Because you shoved him out of the way to make room for someone else to take his spot.  Because you took his cowl and you didn’t even talk to him about it, you just assumed it would be okay.  

Welp, you know what they say about assumptions.

Garth, oblivious to Dick’s musings, keeps right on going. “Me and Rave didn’t believe him; we knew you.  We knew you’d cared. We’d seen it.  Hell, we’d watched you take Batman down a peg or two when he was getting too hard on Tim.  So, we called you after the attack.  We weren’t sure Tim was going to make it.” Garth clears his throat, taking a minute to regroup himself.  “It rang twice before going to voicemail.  You sent us to fucking voicemail.  And then, you never bothered called us back.  Next time I saw you at Wally’s poker game, you didn’t even mention it.”

 “When was this?”  Dick’s voice was hollow.  

“About two years ago.  You and Babs had just gotten back together for the millionth time.  Rave and I decided after that not to bother you about Tim again.  And you never called to check on him.  None of you did.  So the team—we figured Tim was right about the Bats; they didn’t care anymore.”

A shot of rage ran through Dick, causing him to jump up. “He’s my little brother.  Of course I care!”

“Okay then, Dick,” Garth’s voice could make it snow in hell, “how old is Tim?  What did he do for his last birthday?  Is he dating anyone?  What college does he go to?  Does he even go to school anymore?  When was the last time he left the country?  When was the last time he took a vacation?  If you can tell me the correct answer to any of these question right now, I’ll take it all back and shut up about it.” 

Dick opens his mouth to answer, while the rage simmered down into a new, familiar feeling of guilt because, shit he doesn’t know.  Any of it.  

Garth seems to know what Dick was feeling. “Thought not.”

“Damn it, Gar, I know I fucked up.” Dick paces. “I don’t need it to be pointed out to me.”

“I think you do. I’m not just saying this to be an ass to you.” Dick couldn’t help the snort. “I’m not. We’ve already had to pick up the pieces once.  I really don’t want to have to do that again.  I’m not sure we’d be able to do it again.  It was hard for both the team and Tim.  But—” Garth pauses for a moment before continuing, “but I am rooting for you.”

“Then can you help me?  Please?” Dick’s begging, but he doesn’t care. “I just want my brother back.”

Garth groans. “Fine.  I’m not promising anything, but I’ll bring it at the next Titan’s meeting. We’ll put it to a vote. I’ll let you know in a few days.”

Dick felt himself smile for what felt like the first time in years.  “Thanks, Gar.”

“Don’t thank me yet; I haven’t done anything.”

*     *     *

“I thought you weren’t coming until this weekend,” Tim looks up from his bike he’s working to see Bart.

“Change of plans.” Tim puts down the wrench. “I thought you had school.” Tim picks up a towel, starting to clean up.

“Change of plans,” Bart mimics.  Tim throws the towel at Bart’s head.  Bart catches it in a whoosh before cleaning up the entire garage. “Come on. It’s time for dinner. We’re having Chinese.”

Tim grins. “Steamed broccoli, over brown rice?”

Bart shakes his head. “You know, when you live in SF, home of some of the best food in the world, it’s practically criminal to only eat healthy food.” 

Tim shrugs.  “Food is food.  Might as well eat healthy.”

“Dude, I’ve seen you eat a gummy worm pizza with chocolate sauce.”

“Yeah, and I was fourteen.  I’ve grown up.”

“Growing up does not mean you only eat healthy food.” Bart hits the button to call the elevator.

“No, but it does mean you need to mature.”  The elevator dings before the doors open and the pair enter.

“Pff, maturity is overrated.” Bart pushes the button.  The elevator starts moving.

Tim laughs.  “You would thinks that.”

Bart smile falterers. “Seriously, man, what are you doing back here so soon? It’s not that I’m not happy to see you or anything, but I thought you were itching to get out of here for a few days.”

Tim smile slips. “Yeah, I was but I develop a Bat infestation.  Probably going to have to move to get rid of it.” 

Bart moans in sympathy. “Wait, you’ll move to get rid of Bat but not the Demon’s Head?  You realize that’s fucked up logic, right?”  

“Hey, Ra’s pops up once every couple of months.  He does something to get my attention,” Tim starts.

“Yeah.  Like kidnap you,” Bart mutters.

Tim continues, louder, ignoring Bart. “We go back and forth a few times, he calls me detective, I call him an old geezer, I thwart whatever plot he’s trying to do, then I put kiddie shows on a loop for a few days, easy-peasy.  But Bats,” Tim sighs, “once one gets in, you’ll have a whole flock before long.”

“I thought birds had flocks, not Bats.”

Tim snorted. “Fine, a colony of Bats, then.”

Bart nods. “Ah, yes, that makes much more sense.” He and Tim stare at each other for a few seconds before bursting out laughing.

“The crapping thing is, Tam’s already called to chew me out.” Tim absentmindedly rubs his ear. “I’m going to have to go back to Gotham soon, or she’s threatening to bring all the paperwork here.”

“Oh, please let her do that.  I’d love to see Con’s face when he sees her.”

They were laughing when they finally reach the kitchen where Garth’s unpacking the food, Raven and Conner are getting dishes, while Cassie’s getting drinks.  

Tim pauses, admiring his team for a moment.  They are all working in flawless unison; one person would flow in as one of the other flowed out. 

Conner notices him first. “Tim!  I thought you weren’t going to be here for another two days.” He grins at Tim.

“Change of plans.” Tim shrugs but smiles back.

“Yeah, apparently, he has a Bat infestation.” Bart zips to Garth’s shoulder. “Did you guys remember my Mu Shu?”

Raven holds up a box which disappears in a blink.  She raises an eyebrow. “Bat infestation?”

“Yeah, apparently the Bats have decided to worry about me. Where’s my steamed broccoli?” Tim nonchalantly asks.  

Because it doesn’t matter.  Tim isn’t going to get sucked back in.  

Nope.  

Not him.  

Not after all of the tries and fails that happened over the years.  He isn’t going to get sucked in.  

He’s moving forward; not backwards.

Raven and Garth exchange a look.  It’s their patented, we know something but aren’t sure of how to tell anybody because it’s gonna piss people off look. 

“Well, there was something I was going to bring up at the next team meeting,” Garth starts slowly, “but, uh, Dick called me Tim.”

The kitchen froze.  

Tim shoves the burning wave of jealousy that threatens to consume him whenever Garth or Raven casually mentions how close they are with Dick.  

After years of practice, Tim could barely feel a thing.  

Or, that what he told himself.

“Oh?” Tim asks, not looking at anybody (which nobody misses) as he spoons brown rice onto his plate.

“Yeah.”  Garth’s voice is cautious.  “Dick wants me to keep tabs on you for him.  Give him updates.  About you.” Tim stops dead, mid spoonful.  Bart glares at Garth, who put his hands up. “I told him no, but he kinda—he kinda begged, Tim, so I told him I’d ask at the next meeting.”

Turning to blink at Garth, Tim tries to process the information he had just gotten.  

Garth take his silence as anger. “Look, dude, I can totally tell him to go to Hell.  It was kind of a dick move, anyways, asking me to spy on you.  Which I told him by the way.  I mean, not in some many words because he is still my friend, even if he is a dick to—” 

Raven puts a hand on Garth’s shoulder. “Stop talking.” She looks at Tim with a serene expression. “Why don’t we eat?”

Tim mechanically sits down, staring at a plate which is filled with cooling brown rice and broccoli.  

There’s a gentle hum of noise as everyone eats.  

What is Dick up to?

Silverware clink.  

What about Bruce? 

Bart does something goofy which makes Con laugh.

Why the sudden concern?

Tim goes through the motions of eating, not tasting anything.  

Cassie, who’s sitting on the right of him, make an irritated noise.  She’s been watching Tim going through the motions of eating while trying to engage him in conversation.

“Why don’t we just give them some bad intel and then maybe they’ll leave us alone.” She mutters so quietly, Tim’s sure he isn’t supposed to hear.

However, Tim does. 

“Let’s do that.” He loudly announces.  The table starts.  Clearly, the rest of the table didn’t hear. “Let’s do what Cassie said,” all eyes turns to Cassie who squints at Tim. “Let’s give the Bats bad intel on me.” 

The cogs in Tim’s mind are whirling.  There are so many way they could do this.  So many things they could do with this.  

Tim looks up to see the table staring at him like he’s gone nuts (minis Raven who’s unflappable). “No, really. Let’s tell them crazy things, like I went to Jamaica to find myself or Singapore to get dinner or some shit like that.  Maybe if we send them on enough wild goose chases, they’ll leave me alone.” Tim grins.

Cassie shakes her head. “Oh for Goddess sakes, Tim, I was being facetious.”

“I know, but, just imagine it for a minute: Gar what new with Tim?” He causes the table to jump at his ability to mimic Dick so well. “Whelp, he’s got a secret girlfriend and a secret boyfriend that he thinks we don’t know about.”

Bart grins like it’s Christmas. “Oh hell, I want to be there to hear Dick reaction to that. It’d be fucking hilarious.”

Raven frowns. “Tim, Dick and the rest of the Bats are intelligent. They’ll eventually figure out that we’re lying to them.”  

“So we’ll pepper in some truths too.”  Tim leans back in his chair, plotting.  

“Yes, but, what do we do when they figure out we’re lying to them. Batman’s a member of the league.  He could make our lives difficult when he finds out.” Raven points out.

“We’ll worry about it then.  I have a few ideas though that should circumvent any problems that we might have.” Tim smiles. “I think this could work.”

“I think it’ll be fun.” Bart leans back in his chair.

Cassie shakes her head. “I think this end in fire and destruction.”  

“Yeah, but, what a ride.  Besides, with all of the jerking around that they’ve put Tim through, I think they’ve earned this.” Garth smirks.  

Cassie inclines her head.

When Tim looks around at Conner, he can tell the meta is deep in thought.  Tim gives him a raised eyebrow, Conner says, “what do you think about, ‘sorry Dick, Tim’s not here right now.  He went to Smallville to get a hug’?”

Who's ready for some shenanigans?

Thanks for reading!