#Bart is in civilian clothes

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 194

Bart is frozen. He’s terrified- his heart is beating faster in his chest than it’s ever done before yet he couldn’t even start to force himself to run, his body practically vibrating in place as he shook. 

There was a familiar feeling in the air, one he’d never thought he’d ever feel again once he’d slipped back in time. He couldn’t breathe, everything felt like it was falling away except for that horrifying fiery aura- 

“Kid, are you okay?” There was a hand on his shoulder, light as a feather (he’d learned that from gramps!) yet grounding. 

He finally managed to suck in a breath, however wheezy, and looked up to answer, the words dying in his throat before they even began. 

“Kid? Holy shit-” Bart didn’t hear anything else as his poor brain fizzled and he fainted. 

Danny blinks down at the barely-teenager who seemed to just have some sort of attack before fainting practically in his arms. He’d say diabetes or something, but he has no way to be sure and is maybe panicking himself. 

“Wow Mum, wha’ you do?” a toddler Dan- he knew what he did but honestly his baby lisp was adorable- snarked from next to him, chewing on his kid leash. Which he wasn’t getting out of until he could both stop floating whenever he saw the stars (yes he knew he used to do the same thing, shush) and walk out into traffic. 

[t4tails]

LOL WAIT OKAY so jason WAS a robin in this universe he just came into the mantle and then died all in the 5 year timeskip. they just couldnt wait to get to tim. fuck that stupid dead boy

[brown-little-robin]

Impulse and Mad-Dog (Seven and Nine)

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp Prompt #24: The Midwest Prince(ss)

Danny is a Singer/Siren/Banshee au where he’s basically a Chappel Roan-type figure.( Also, I'm Dead on Main trash so Strangers-to-Friends-to-Lovers, Celebrity x Civilian romance for two of my favorite boys)

Danny’s Ghostly Wail develops into vocal manipulation bc he’s a siren or banshee. Ember teaches him to sing and control the power. He finds music is a good outlet for his emotions and decides to pursue music as Danny. It takes him a few years but he develops a style and brand that he bases off the Realms. However, he doesn’t anyone to connect him to Phantom so he uses parts of his ancestors’ names to become “Walker Gale”(shout out to my beautiful mutual @mirigold-mayflowers for helping me pick that name), ordinary small-town midwestern boy turned Music Icon. He hires Val as his personal bodyguard, Sam as his manager, and Tucker as his head stage tech.

He dresses in really campy clothes the low-key mimic his ghost form as well as other ghosts he’s met. The outfits change to match the vibe of the song. So a rock ballad with an outfit inspired by Ember, Show Tunes-Murder Mystery-type-beat with a costume for Amorpho, EDM-techno-hyperpop themed song styled after Technus or Skulker, etc. He just has a lot of fun experimenting with his appearance and he’s an icon for it. He even makes friends with Star and Paulina through this and they give him feedback and help with new looks. The eventually join the team as his PR and Styling team.

Since he’s a banshee/siren all his songs have this underlying despair/sadness even if they have a fun and bubbly beat. He also references his feelings about being/hiding as Phantom and being partially dead and shit but vaguely so no one actually knows or assumes it’s a metaphor. Many of the themes are actually things lgbtq people identify with, specifically trans and bi fans. He also references battles he’s fought and ppl assumes he’s talking about mental illness or abuse which attracts another category of fans altogether. Again inspired by Chappel Roan his first album his called "The Ascent and Downfall of a Midwest Prince" gaining him the nickname the "Midwest Prince".

He’s weird and unfiltered and full of emotion and he gains a few fans in the hero community too. Raven and Zatanna start a fan club for him, well aware he’s some type of banshee/siren but knowing that the extent of his powers are being used to deliver beautiful performances. The are staunch supporters of him and his music and spread it to their friends. The current fan club is Co-Presidents Zatanna + Raven, VP Greta(Secret, a.k.a: a ghost hero), Starfire, Bart, Cassie, Tim, Kon + Jon, Steph, Cass, and Billy.

His identifying features are a signature make-up look and white underdye (when the color is on the underside of the hair). He’s grown his hair longer so it’s not super visible when he has it down and not styled. He also looks different without make-up so he can totally go unrecognized in public and live life semi-normal (as normal as a half-ghost vigilante powerhouse superstar can be). He actually planned it to be that way so that he could still go to college and stuff even though he’s doing it mostly online. All this to say that Danny has low-key got a Hannah Montana thing going on. Also, let's mix it up a bit and say he's based in Star City.

One day Danny goes to a second-hand book store because he's looking for a cheap textbook when he bumps into an absolute hunk of a man who doesn't seem to recognize him. Jason had been in Star City to visit Roy and Lian. He stopped at a second-hand bookstore to see if he look for some older editions of books (one time he found a second edition copy of Persuasion so he likes to peruse) and ran into a super pretty boy who made his chest feel funny and doesn't realize he's a Wayne. They got to talking about started really connecting. They decided to exchange numbers and kept in touch, meeting up every now and then when they had the chance. Danny gave him his private social media accounts so Jason never learned much more beyond that Danny worked in the music industry but not his exact role in it.

Eventually Danny moves to Gotham, either bc he switched labels or to be closer to Jazz whose doing her doctorate thesis on reforms that need to be made in Arkham. He and Jason begin meeting up in person more frequently and start catching feelings. Danny really wants to ask him out but feels sleazy doing it without telling Jason about his past and superstar alter ego. However, he also doesn't want to lose the mostly normal friendship they have. On the flipside Jason wants to date Danny but doesn't want to drag him into the life of a vigilante or the life of a Wayne. Both of them Pine and Agonize over this. In the end Danny decides to bite the bullet and tell Jason who he is, every part of who he is. He invites Jason over for a movie night and tells him he's got something important to tell Jason.

That same day Starfire decides to introduce Walker Gale's work to the other Outlaws and Jason really resonates with his work. He identifies with the lyrics on a literal and physical level and recognizes the underlying emotions that usually only other ghosts or liminals can. Starfire overjoyed that her friend likes his music decides to show Jason some of his music videos and photos. Jason, not being blind or an idiot, recognizes not only the props and costumes but his crushes face under that (very well done) make-up.

Jason is stunned and conflicted: it’s not like Danny lied to him about who he was, but he was entirely truthful either. Did he assume Jason knew? Or did he just not trust Jason? Why did he even bother with Jason, a seemingly regular guy, if he had such a claim to fame? And Jason keeps listening to his music and it’s speaks to him the same way hanging out with Danny does, making him feel seen and connected. It makes him all the more sure that someone incredible as Danny doesn’t need someone like Jason. He heads to Danny’s place that night very subdued.

He gets to Danny’s place and the smile that greets him twists him up inside. He puts on a mask and tries to act normal but Danny can tell somethings up but persists as he has made up his mind to be clear with Jason. He sits him down and tells him there is something important he wants to tell Jason. He starts by letting Jason know that he cares about him very much and appreciates the normality and closeness of their friendship. He confesses that he doesn't normally get that bc well, he's the superstar "Walker Gale". Danny goes onto say that the reason he didn't say anything earlier was because he treasures the simplicity of what he had with Jason and the reason he's telling him now is because he couldn't continue a relationship that he wants more from without being completely honest.

Jason's heart thunders in his chest and he stares at Danny with a slightly constipated look. Danny asks Jason what's wrong and on an impulse Jason word vomits his feelings. That he actually found out through a friend earlier today, that he really connected to his music the same way he did with Danny, that he's never felt seen the way Danny sees through him, that he's never felt the same way as deeply before, that he's completely and utterly in love with Danny but was scared to say anything and get him involved with his crazy life and the Waynes. And Danny sits and listens shellshocked.

And the only thing Danny can think to do is kiss this incredible boy senseless and tell him that if he likes him back then they can figure it out.

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: That one episode of teen titans where they all dress up as Robin + Tim being a gremlin about his legacy + Danny look alike/twin AU.

So there is that episode of Teen Titans where Starfire, Cyborg, Beast Boy and Raven all dress as Robin (Dick) while he's out and it's admitted that the outfit makes them feel cool. Imagine a young Tim hearing that story mentioned in passing by Dick while trying to manage what becomes Young Just-us. And then when Damain becomes Robin?? Gremlin mode activated.

Tim hosts regular 'Robin' Parties, where the idea is that you come in Robin colors, get a mask at the door and everyone gets to basically hang out in civilian clothes without the identity crises for those just getting started. "age appropriate" drinks, games, and good music are all staples. The parties become more frequent once Damian becomes Robin and he pointedly doesn't attend Tim's parties which... Neither of them are really happy about. Family is complicated, but finally, after a few years of cooling off, it's decided that Robin will actually host this years Robin party.

Meaning Tim shows up in casual clothes (MIT sweatshirt) and a mask, and Damian is actually dressed as Robin when the party is starting to get into the swing of things. The point of it is to make sure all the young heroes get to come and start to befriend each other, so there are a few people who show up and have to actually say that they're *insert alias* and this is met with basically "Dope, nice to meet you Robin" etc.

Insert Danny Twin AU (Or just look-alike fuckery) (for either brother but my brain is on Tim Twin au mode).

Danny decides to show up as his human self, grabs a mask at the door before coming in, and is slowly integrating himself into a conversation when someone grabs his arm- "Hey Red your brother is fighting with a newbie about meat products again-"

And Danny doesn't have a brother but my god has he heard this fight too many times with Sam and Tucker- He's going in and he's defusing this situation because he cannot handle the thought of this argument taking over his new friend group. He deals with it enough, okay?

Robin (like, the real one) looks at him curiously while Danny is talking down the other hero Robin (insert here), and the whole room notices when Robin doesn't take the opportunity to dismiss or belittle his older brother (Lmao because its danny). Damian cannot place his unease about Drake (again, Danny, who is not hiding his identity beyond a mask), and simply decides that this isn't worth the effort.

The party moves on but now instead of everyone calling themselves Robin, Danny is distinctly being called Red. It confuses him a bit, he didn't even know Red Robin was going to be at this party (he hasn't met the guy and doesn't know the lore), but he rolls with it because he's made fast friends with Robin (Bart), Robin (Cassie) and Robin (JON). The kid was full little bro energy and it made Danny laugh, he was so surprised when the real Robin joined them and fell into easy conversation with Robin (Jon).

Danny is playing games with a few others when someone goes to grab a broom to clean up- Turns out Red Robin and his boyfriend Kon had been making out in the closet for most of the party- and the whole room looks at Danny like he's tried to trick them. Tim is at first uneasy that so many people mistook him, but once he's in front of his dupe, puzzle pieces start to move around in his head.

"And who are you again, Robin?" Tim asks carefully, though he suspects he has his answer.

"Uh, Phantom, but you know, a lot of people were calling me Red tonight and I didn't get why until just now." Danny laughs nervously.

"Yeah I bet- Find me monday and we can see about a geneology test."

"That leaves us the whole weekend, to do what exactly? Fuck with people by pulling a parent trap style swap?"

"Nature vs. nuture and all but I don't know how you could be anything but my brother with a question like that." Tim grins and they get to scheming.

[hmslusitania]

Either 16 or 21 or both or neither

There was no specified ship, so it ended up being kind of pre-relationship TimKon

The party had been a questionable choice, Tim can admit that now. Nothing says “I’m so totally over a relationship, see how fine I’m doing!” like throwing a Halloween party, drinking a little too much at the sight of his ex-girlfriend making out with her new girlfriend who is, for most purposes, Tim’s sister, and then retreating to the bathroom because his more recent ex-boyfriend had actually taken him up on the invitation and brought a plus one.

Which is why he’s hiding in the bathtub in his own bathroom, not totally shielded from view by the novelty map of Faerûn shower curtain Steph had helped him pick out. At least it matches the elf ears that had seemed like a good idea six hours ago, and at least the porcelain he’s resting his face against is cooling and pleasant.

His relative peace — generally not helped by the thumping of the bass from the stereo in the party beyond his room — is interrupted an unknowable amount of time later by the bathroom door opening without a knock, and then he’s in the company of…

“What are you supposed to be?” Tim asks without lifting his head from the side of the tub.

Kon looks down at his “costume” which includes fingerless gloves, a denim jacket, and a black and red buffalo check shirt.

“Breakfast Club?” Kon prompts.

Tim blinks at him.

“Come on, we watched it for YJ movie night like last month,” Kon reminds him.

“I wasn’t there,” Tim says, miserable, and sags a little farther into the comforting embrace of the side of the tub.

“We were gonna do a whole group thing, right, except we decided you’d for sure have to be Ally Sheedy, not Emilio Estevez or Anthony Michael Hall,” Kon continues, unphased by Tim’s demeanour. “But then Cissie wanted to dress up like Wendy instead, and I’m pretty sure Cassie’s dressed up like me, which is kinda a head trip. And Bart had some whole situation where he can’t make our party because he got roped into babysitting Jai and Irey while they go trick-or-treating, because as screwy as my family might be, only when you’re a member of the West-Allen family do you really get to go babysit your, uh…”

“Second cousins,” Tim supplies.

“Huh, I definitely thought that was gonna be a weirder chain of relationship,” Kon says.

He sits on the bathmat next to Tim’s head and pokes him in the side of the face.

“Stop,” Tim says.

“So is there a particular reason you’re hiding from your own party in your bathroom?” Kon asks.

“I’m bitterly single?” Tim replies.

Kon considers him. “So, I get why you invited Steph, because she’s still for sure one of your best friends, and I’m pretty sure you’re, like, contractually obliged to invite Cass to events, and they’re a matched set. But like… your civilian ex-boyfriend who likes to conspiracy theory about the majority of the rest of your guests?”

Tim groans and shuts his eyes, only to have Kon pry one of them open and stare at him up close.

“I wanted to prove I was, like, mature and evolved and so totally over it,” Tim says, and feels stupid even saying it.

“Which is why you’re drunk in your bathtub, sure, yeah, I get that,” Kon says, and smiles when Tim rolls his eyes.

“You don’t have to be in here being nice to me, you can just like… enjoy the party,” Tim says.

“The party where my ex-girlfriend is dressed up in my clothes and making out with our other very good friend who’s dressed up like my all time fictional crush? That party?” Kon asks, and Tim snorts.

“Do you ever think about the fact you dated two girls named Cassandra and both of them turned out to be gay?” Tim asks.

“With really similar taste in women, also,” Kon adds. “And, like, yeah, every once in a while.”

Tim hums and closes his eyes again, but this time, Kon doesn’t pry his eyes open.

“I know you’re mad at me,” Tim mumbles finally. “You didn’t have to come.”

“I’m not mad at you,” Kon says, and this time the physical botherment he inflicts is tweaking the elf ear Tim had spent a stupid amount of time gluing on. “I was questioning your judgement, which is so not the same thing.”

“Judgement I definitely didn’t improve by throwing this party, right?” Tim guesses. Kon makes a noncommittal noise.

“Like I get that you have a thing for blonds with a penchant for getting into trouble, but…” Kon says.

“Not just blonds,” Tim mumbles before he can think better of it. He blinks when he realises what he’s said and finds Kon staring at him curiously. “I’m really fine, Kon, you can go enjoy the party.”

“Nah,” Kon says, and before Tim can move to stop him, he clambers over the side of the tub to squish into the narrow space between Tim and the shower wall, his combat boots which have a certain authenticity that say they might have been Pa Kent’s from the ’60s clunking against the basin. Kon wriggles his shoulders trying to get comfortable for a second, and then gives up and wraps his arm around Tim. It’s just for the better use of space, Tim’s sure, but it’s… it’s really nice. And when Kon tugs him sideways until Tim rolls over so he’s resting the side of his face on Kon’s chest rather than on the side of the tub, it’s so damn pleasant he can barely stand it. “I’d much, much rather be in here with you.”

It makes Tim’s heart flutter in his chest and he knows Kon can hear that, which is just embarrassing, and which he can only sort of blame on the alcohol.

“Yeah, okay, Bender,” he says, trying desperately to hit annoyed.

Kon gives him a full belly laugh that echoes off the bathroom tile, and squeezes him just a little closer. “I knew you’d seen the Breakfast Club before.”

Tim rolls his eyes and smacks Kon in the stomach with a light, open palm. It gets him another laugh, and maybe, just maybe, this party hadn’t been the worst idea after all.

[bamboozled-and-alone]

Another piece for Batfam Big Bang 2024!!!!! This one is a tiny bit late due to some airport issues lol but it’s finally done!!!!! Huge thank you to @skarmoree for writing an absolutely gorgeous fic:

It’s been a blast working with you all!

Image ID under the cut:

[image id]

Bart, Cassie, Dick, Kon, Tim, Jon, Damian, and Cass are all sitting around a couch together, along with Haley the dog. Kon, Tim, Jon and Damian all have controllers in their hands, as they are playing Mario Kart. All of them are wearing civilian clothing.

[end id]

[mae-kent]

a list of mae kent day prompts

mae day is december 15th!

art prompts:

- mae in civilian clothes

- redraw a meme with mae

- redraw an ad/painting with mae

- draw mae with one of her friends (kon, bart, prysm, clark, lana, lois, roy, donna, liz, linda, draaga, kyle, etc)

- one of mae's other forms (spiky, goopy, post supergirl saga, clark, lana, etc)

- draw mae in a pinterest aesthetic (decora, goth, lolita, academia, etc)

- mae and animals- alien or earthen

- mae meeting lian

- her struggling with technology

- her in space

- make some mae emojis!

- doodle mae in your outfit

writing prompts:

- explore mae's biology- there's lots of unansweed questions, so there's lots of opportunity to play around with it

- introduce her to your blorbo of choice

- write a 'what if' if supergirl 1996 never happened or mae ever came back at the end of it.. or if mae never came back in panic in the sky, or if her and lex never broke up- or never dated! play around with the possibilities.

- mae's first (insert holiday) with the kents!

- put mae in gotham....

- mae travelling, alone or with a friend

- having a misunderstanding

- learning something new

other:

- referencing patty duke somehow.. she's said to like it in one of her earlier appearances after supergirl saga

- read a mae comic! optionally, post your thoughts/review on it :3

- make a mae playlist

- mae edits (let me know if you'd like some songs that might work for her!)

- collages? maybe edit together a computer or phone background/lock screen

- introduce a friend to mae

- how would she cross over to another piece of media you like? what pokemon would she train? what disney princess is she most like? what marvel characters does she have the most in common with?

obv feel free to mix and match these as you like! these are just meant to help you get started / have ideas :3

for example, some fics i’m working on are a ‘kon and mae go to houston’ fic (my hometown, so really self indulgent of me :>), a canon divergence fic about mae & draaga, and a fic about mae’s grief and her appearance in valor #2.

[seraphims-wing]

Fourth of July

a/n: in honor of AB/AP hitting its ten year anniversary, my brain decided to cook this up. i honestly haven't written TimKon before but the plot bunny hit at 1am and I crunched this out.

The song just fit Tim post Bruce's death perfectly and I couldn't help myself

tags: references to major character death, a small dash of fluff, but mostly angst

Enjoy!

“Cloning Process #76 Complete. Status: Failure to align protein linkages. Would you like to proceed again?”

The tinny computerized voice spoke up, catching Tim’s attention from the notes he had been scribbling. His eyes were wide as he let out a shaky breath, his hands tightening into fists.

The words on the papers strewn across the table seemed to blur. He didn’t even register the teardrops that stained the pages, stacks of failed attempts and notes all haphazardly scattered around him.

Tim slumped to the ground, his head falling back to rest on one of the desk’s legs as he let out a shuddered sigh. The red glow of the clock on the other side of the room showed it was well past 3am. He squinted at it and frowned, normally he’d be out on patrol by now.

Not anymore.

Dick could handle it. After all, he had his brand new Robin with him.

His heart stung at the reminder, the feeling gnawing at him. The bitter and jagged remarks he had thrown that night in the cave were full of anger and resentment. He said so much— and yet he felt like he said nothing at all. He grimaced at the thought of Damian running rampant around as Robin, of Dick donning the cowl every night instead of their father.

God he missed them.

He missed when Dick who would take him out for chili dogs late at night after patrol, or when he’d grin at him while they parkoured across rooftops. He missed when Bruce would awkwardly ask how his hobbies were going or when he would ask for his input on a case. He even missed when Alfred would scold him about how messy his room was or bake him his favorite cookies when he knew Tim was upset.

It had all happened too fast. First Steph, then Bart, then Kon, then Bruce—

He let out another shaky sigh as he opened his eyes and stared at the eerie green liquid in the tube. He was nearly at the end of his rope trying to find Bruce, with the League, with everyone. When Ra’s had approached him with the CADMUS files he had nearly thrown them out.

‘A show of good faith,’ the man had said.

Maybe at another point in his life Tim would have told Ra’s to shove it, but after one too many late nights of failed attempts at finding Bruce in the timestream, he found himself skimming over them.

Then the skimming became reading, and then researching, and next thing he knew he was in this stupid basement desperately trying to get his friend back.

He knew it wasn’t the best coping mechanism— not that he’s had any good role models since going around punching criminals wasn’t really psychologist certified.

But if he could just get him back. Maybe things— maybe things would be better.

He didn’t even realize he had drifted off to sleep, the exhaustion catching up with him.

“Y’know, maybe I’d be more willing to celebrate our country if we didn’t have an egotistical maniac running it,” Tim commented, perched on the top of the Kent’s barn. Kon sat next to him, both dressed in their civilian clothes.

Kon snorted, “Still have no idea how Lex got elected.”

Tim raised an eyebrow and glanced at him, “Wait, so does that mean you’re like… technically First Son or something like that?”

Kon thought for a second before shrugging. “I guess?” he replied, before raising an eyebrow suggestively, “Why, you into it?”

Tim rolled his eyes at the smug smirk that had risen on Kon’s face, “No, I hate snobby rich kids.”

Kon let out a laugh, nudging him, “Dude, you literally are one.”

“Exactly.”

A boom sounded in the distance. Instinctively, Tim tensed but he felt his shoulder’s relax as Kon’s hand settled on his thigh. He let out a sigh, “Sorry— in Gotham that usually means something else.” He glanced out towards where the soft lights of Smallville could be seen in the distance, fireworks lighting up the night sky in bursts.

Tim felt Kon shift closer, and instinctively leaned against him, watching the colorful display.

“I think the last time I saw fireworks was at Disney World,” he mumbled quietly.

“Well this isn’t Disney level, but we do alright,” Kon replied with a chuckle, “Sorry our small town isn’t fancy enough for you,” he teased.

Tim rolled his eyes and met Kon’s gaze, “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

He noticed Kon’s expression softening as he met Tim’s gaze, “I know,” he replied quietly as he grinned warmly at him.

Tim felt his chest flutter at the sight, the colors of the fireworks lighting up Kon’s tanned skin. Kon’s hand reached up and brushed against his cheek, his thumb grazing his skin. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest as Kon leaned in—

“ —Fuck!” Tim yelled as his head had slammed back into the deck’s metal leg. The sound of his phone’s ringtone echoed through the basement. He let out a groan, blindly trying to grab his phone from the desk.

He saw the strings of messages, his assistant frantically spamming him.

“Fuck,” he said again, in a resigned tone. He had overslept and missed another investor’s meeting. Pushing himself off the ground, he started to collect himself. He nearly stumbled, stabilizing himself with the desk. He let out a shuddered sigh as he sifted through his memories, the dream making his heart tighten in his chest.

He glanced at the photos of Kon that were scattered across the files, asleep in a tube— peaceful. But that wasn’t his Kon. That was before they found him, before the Young Justice, before their friendship, before…

His Kon was opinionated and snarky. He wouldn’t take anyone’s shit and he had a smile so blinding it was almost annoying. His Kon was passionate, and kind. He was brash but he was bright— brighter than a burning sun or firework lighting up the sky.

“Computer?” Tim asked softly, walking towards the tube and resting his hand against the cold glass.

He just wanted him back.

“ Initiate Attempt #77.”

[mysteryideasgroup]

MSA X TMNT 2003: Ninja Tribunal Chapter 14: The Legend of the two ancestors, Glinda and Sandra/Glinda and Sandra fought Lord Sombra/They got Sombra to imprison the book of Urban Legends/Crimson has his true colour and walks to Tengu Shredder 

Nightmare of Tengu Shredder killing of TMNT with their Friends are Killed. They have horror to flash to real

Later in TMNT Lair and THNT Lair, Splinter's Room with Chelsea's Room. He and the Ancient One are sitting cross-legged across from each other in Splinter’s chambers inside the lair. They are with Chelsea and Maisy.

Splinter and Maisy are shocked by the horror of nightmares

Chelsea: Not good, they have nightmares again?

Ancient One: The dream again. You see it while awake now.

Splinter: Stronger than ever before.

Maisy: I have dark visions of Tengu Shredder having always haunted us...

Carol: Mistress! I find that the Urban Legend Book!

Jerry: Yes, true! We discover that Lord Sombra is a prisoner of the Urban Legend Book and has the same match as Lord Sombra!

Sandra: What's the book?

Gary: I think it’s an Urban Legend book!

Sarah has looked at Wiki of Lord Sombra in Wikis Real Story of Sombra aka Lord Sombra on her Laptop with Wikis

Sarah: Guys, I found it identical to Lord Sombra. He is defeated by Two Mystery Ancestors Females... Glinda and Sandra? My Ancestors met them in the past...

Lewis, Vivi, Arthur, and Mystery are noticed by the Urban Legend of Book. Mystery Teams are realizing that Urban Legend of many Urban Legends of the worlds and countries.

Lewis: Wait, I noticed the Urban Legend was a prisoner of Lord Sombra... He has Japan?! Like Tengu Shredder's true story!

Sarah: Hmm... right, I think it’s telling us carefully what happened to him? See it...

--- Sombra's Flashback ---

Sarah (Narrator): Long ago, in the 1890s before the 1900s. He has Japan with his Parents...

Sombra is Human before becoming Dark Form, he wears civilian clothes in Japan.

Sarah (Narrator): He was Human before he became the Dark Form...

Bart: He before he was bad dark?

Cera: Wait hold, I listen.

Sarah (Narrator): Sombra is sneaking in the mystery door to discover that Book called The Legend of the Tengu Shredder!

They are shocked to Sombra that he found met Tengu Shredder!

Laura: ! Wait, Sombra found him in the book!

Sarah (Narrator): Yes, right. His Parents are shocked that their Son has discovered the Book of The Legend of the Tengu Shredder! They are not good ideas to Son that You never uses some dark sides!

Parents tell their Son, Sombra said Never use some Dark Sides

Vivi: ! He has got to the Book of Tengu Shredder!?

Sarah (Narrator): Yes, true. He has left the book. Night, he was run away from his Parents! He has betrayed them!

Sombra is running away from home with his Parents.

Arthur: ! He has run out!

Sarah (Narrator): Yes, right, I think it’s Dark Staff! He got it Dark Staff!

Sombra got the Dark Staff to get transformed into Dark Form!

Sarah (Narrator): He has to turn to Dark Form! He takes all the worlds! But his parents are shocked at their Son's true nature from betrayal!

His Parents met Glinda and Sandra who needed help from them

Sarah (Narrator): His parents told them that help! Glinda and Sandra agreed to stop him from taking all the world!

Glinda and Sandra tell to Lord Sombra in his Stronghold Castle

Glinda: You have bad crimes! They want to stop you!

Sandra: Not needing to you! You’re going to mess up everything!

Lord Sombra: HA HA HA! It's true? I have dark powers!

Lord Sombra used Dark Powers to Glinda used Light Powers to between balance of power. Unnoticed Sandra used the Book of Urban Legend to stop him has defeated to use book to imprisoned

Sarah (Narrator): Finally, they have stopped him, they have succeeded in saving the world.

Crowds of people are happy that Glinda and Sandra have saved the world.

Sarah (Narrator): They are successful in defeating him in his book Imprisoned of Used to Urban Legends. They need to hide the Book of Urban Legend book from Enemies and try to revive the book to revive the resurrection of him!

Glinda and Sandra took the book to hide and found that storage box to put the book locked up.

Sarah (Narrator): They have to be locked in the storage chest box of Urban Legend in locked now, not wanting to escape from Urban Legend... Before getting the future...

Laura: Oh my God... Not better! I reminded last like the same Tengu Shredder!

--- End of Sombra's Flashback ---

Sarah: What's true? Now Tengu Shredder has found it to Urban Legends Book to free him from imprisonment!

They are shocked that Sarah tells them of Sombra's True Story

Bart: I can’t believe it! He is free from imprisonment!

Sarah: Right, true. We need to stop them for good and all.

-- Meanwhile in Tengu Shredder's Stronghold Castle/Fortress --

Crimson talking to Mystical Foots Heralds that You need to stop Turtles, Humans Allies and my disowned Niece from arriving here! I will go to Tengu Shredder myself!

Mystical Foots Heralds in shock and anger agreed to they are leave the gates to protect Tengu Shredder with Lord Sombra and Crimson

----

For @laurasanchez36

All my msa x tmnt ocs and all my new msa x tmnt ocs belongs to Me

All her msa x tmnt ocs and all her new msa x tmnt ocs belongs to @laurasanchez36

Mystery Skulls Animated MSA belongs to Ben and MysteryBen27 of YouTube YT Series

TMNT 2003 belongs to Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird 

[hayleyhearts]

11, 39, 60, 72 for the fic ask game!

yesss thanks for asking!! <3

hit me up with these fic writer questions!

11. Link your three favorite fics right now 

so hard to answer FR but I'd have to go with

there when the light comes in by shipyrds... a completed timkon roadtrip fic that I haven't stopped thinking about since I read it

and the two fics I'm subscribed to:

buy back the secrets by sundiscus... I've posted about this before and I'll post again!!! Superboy keeps rescuing "random civilian" Tim Drake, and it's incredible

the life that is to be mine by WynterSky... a timkon fic set in the 90s, they're in high school, there's identity shenanigans, it's so god tier

39. Share a snippet from a WIP

oooooh okay here's a scene from a TimKon Secret Santa fic that maybe I'll finish when I'm in the Christmas spirit? haha we'll see

“I thought you were Jewish?” 

“I am,” Tim said. 

Bart and Kon were sitting on the couch, staring at Tim who was standing in front of their paused video game. Cassie was sitting on the floor with her back against Kon’s legs, scrolling through TikTok with her sound low. San Francisco nights were usually cold, but it was especially chilly in December, and everyone wore cozy, comfortable clothes. 

“So, you don’t believe in Santa,” Bart said like he was making a good point. 

“Yeah,” Tim said slowly, “like the rest of you, I’d hope.” 

Kon and Cassie gave Bart the side eye. 

He looked back incredulously. 

“Your dad’s an alien, and yours is Zeus. But sure, I’m stupid for believing in Christmas magic.” 

“Clark isn’t my dad.” 

“My point,” Bart continued, “is that anything is possible, especially at Christmas. That’s eight times as true for Hanukkah.” 

“Thanks,” Tim said dryly. “But I thought a Secret Santa could be a good team bonding exercise.” 

“Is there a spending limit?” Cassie asked. “Because unless Tim picks me, I think there should be.” 

“We don’t need limits,” Kon said. 

“Won’t you feel like an asshole if Tim picks Bart and buys him a private island or something?” 

“We don’t need limits,” Bart said quickly, now fully on board with the Secret Santa idea. 

“I would never buy someone a private island,” Tim said, putting the matter to rest. “Land is a high maintenance investment."

60. Have you had a writer you admire comment on your fic? What was that like?

YES when Sundiscus commented on my fic and became a mutual 😭 Like... surreal. It's similar to how I imagine it feels publishing an original book and getting like Rick Riordan to write a blurb for the cover

72. What order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?

I usually think of the beginning and final scenes first, but I like to write in chronological order. Although, if I'm struggling with a scene I'll just stop and move onto the next one, and then write the filler in-between stuff later.

This was so fun!! Thanks again :) <3

[zattis]

Nightwing had wanted to be there twenty minutes early. It would leave him more than enough time to set up today's exercise, greet everyone and check up on team morale before getting started. He expected to show up to a lively Mount Justice, with most of the Team present and mingling.

Instead, Dick arrived to find pieces of the Team's base had been torn apart. It was a strange scene that forced him to slip into detective mode. Certain rooms within the base had been torn apart completely, with rubble and scorch marks littered all around their respective areas, while other rooms had been left completely untouched. Whoever had found Mount Justice had clearly had a target when they had arrived.

Dick's musings were interrupted by the shouting of an unfamiliar voice.

"ALLEN!"

Dick bolted towards the sound immediately. That one word was all he needed to hear to recognize both the potential attacker and the target.

It took under a minute for Dick to reach the hangar, where he found two figures duking it out. He recognized the redheaded blur darting erratically around the massive room as Bart Allen, but he had never seen the other person before. They were in civilian clothing and appeared male, with black hair, a lithe build and a facial structure fairly similar to Dick's own. The glowing green eyes, matching green energy pulsing from his hands and the fact he was floating a few feet off the ground reminded him way too much of Kori, as did the fact the new figure was probably closer to her towering height than his more average one.

Dick chose to hang back and observe in an effort to figure out the new player's patterns, watching as he continue to fire green bolts of energy at Impulse. For his part, Bart was doing what a speedster should do, weaving in and out to avoid the newcomer's projectiles and occasionally darting in and leaping to throw nasty Speed Force-enhanced punches. Rather than blocking, however, it seemed Bart's adversary would simply tank the punch head on.

"How many times does your Flash family have to do this, Allen?" the being asked, his barrage of blasts not slowing down as he began firing from both hands. "It's always one of you that screws with time and leaves a mess for the rest of us to clean up!"

"Look, I don't know who you are, dude," Impulse tried placating him as he twisted and contorted his body to avoid the plasma constantly being fired, yelping as one barely skimmed his suit, "But we've never done it for selfish reasons! What did I even do!"

"What did you do? What did you do?" the newcomer's voice rose, and as he only seemed to get angrier, his blasts only seemed to get quicker. Finally, one of them hit Impulse square in the chest. The speedster grunted in pained and paused for one second, and that was all the newcomer needed. In an instant, he rushed over to the edge of the hangar and snatched Bart off the ground, holding him up by his throat.

"You took my family from me, is what you did!" With nowhere to build speed the force behind Impulse's punches was weakened heavily, and the flurry of quick punches he threw at the newcomer (was he a meta or an alien, Dick had to wonder) were as effective as raindrops on concrete. Abruptly, the intruder dropped Impulse and clapped his palms against his ears, stunning the speedster. Bart barely stayed on his feet slumping in his standing position as his ears rang.

Dick watched as the newcomer threw a brutal right hook that squarely connected with Impulse's cheek, sending him spinning around once before he collapsed on the ground. But the newcomer wasn't finished, plucking Bart's dazed body off the ground and standing him back up. Impulse was lucky he was still conscious. Dick silently sent a text to the rest of his team for reinforcements as the newcomer began to speak.

"My parents never got married like they were supposed to, because of you," he growled, his volume quieter but his anger still all there. "I had three siblings, Impulse: two sisters and a brother. We got to do everything together, and now they're gone because you wanted to do surgery on the timeline with a butcher's knife."

He didn't say anything unique, but his words were enough to give Dick pause. He'd just parted with Kori on friendly terms, but they had once talked about full commitment. Engagement, marriage, even kids down the line. The person in front of him seemed to be time displaced, but they looked like one of those potential results.

Could they have actually...?

The newcomer craned Bart's neck up to look at him, and then slapped Bart with an open palm. "How many lives were snuffed out before they even started because of you?" He asked, before striking Bart again.

Somehow, Impulse had managed to recover just enough to fight back, throwing a weak punch with his right arm. The newcomer easily caught it by the wrist and struck Bart in the gut. The speedster let out a wheeze as his opponent linked their arms together and turned their positions around so his back faced the nearby wall and Bart's was towards the more open area.

"I'll never get to hear Jazz laugh again!" The newcomer shouted as he smashed his fist into Impulse's face with an overhead motion, knocking him back on the ground and sending him skidding across the hangar floor. "I'll never get to see Ellie smile again!"

Bart groaned and tried to get up, bringing one shoulder off the ground sluggishly. Not that it mattered, since the newcomer was on him again in an instant.

"My sibling rivalry with Dante went up in flames!" He shouted, once again grabbing Bart, this time gripping the speedster's head. His fingernails pierced Bart's cheeks and forehead, drawing just a bit of blood.

He ruthlessly slammed Bart's prone body into the ground a second time, putting a foot against Bart's midsection for good measure. He stared down at the speedster, his eyes glowing that same violently green. His fist cocked back, ready to deliver the finishing blow.

"And it's all because of YOU!" He roared as he brought that fist down.

In some valiant display of perseverance or heroism, Bart brought both his hands up to block the newcomer's final strike. In a roundabout way, it made Dick proud. At least Bart's fighting spirit wouldn't be wounded after this.

The newcomer sighed as Bart grunted, pushing back with everything he had. Instead of trying to force anything with the hand Bart had blocked, he simply placed his other hand just underneath Bart's chin. A pool of green energy began building up, getting brighter, hotter and more explosive by the second. It swirled around in the intruder's palm before taking the shape of a pulsing sphere. Bart could feel the heat as it pressed against him.

"You should have taken the punch, Impulse," the taller man snarled.

"Wait!" Dick shouted, in a Hail Mary attempt to get the intruder to stand down. He didn't listen.

Green light coated the entire hanger as the intruder let his biggest energy blast of the entire encounter fly at point-blank range to Impulse's face. A resounding ka-THOOM rocked the room and sent Dick flying back a few feet, landing on his back. When he got up, green smoke covered his vision.

When it dissipated, Bart was still lying supine on the ground. His costume was in tatters, and everything from his chin to his chest was covered in ash.

The intruder was gone.

@gaddaboutgriffon

Future Son????

It has been a while since I have done an original prompt. So DCxDP prompt #2

Danny gets into a fight with Impulse/Bart about Bart changing the timeline messing things up for Danny and effectively erasing his family, because the change made it so Maddie and Jack never got together. But because of Clockwork sending him on a mission to the past while Bart changed the timeline and the medallion Dan had phased into Danny he remembers the old timeline. Also he has access to his powers but for some reason can’t change into ghost form.

This fight happens in front of the rest of the young justice team. And Nightwing was coming there to teach a training lesson and over hears half of what Danny is shouting.

From Dick’s point of view there is a black haired, blue eyed kid with powers that are suspiciously like a Tamuraneans, yelling at Bart about losing his family because his parents never got together. Also Dick and Kori had recently broken up. (Feel free to make up a reason.)

Due to a misunderstanding Dick is going to help his time displaced “son” adjust to the new reality.

Do I tag people too much? @azulhood @bianca-hooks123 @bloggerspam @confusedshades @dragonsrequiem @evilminji @flamingpudding @fightmebissh @ghostbsuter @hypewinter @help-itrappedmyself @hdgnj @kizzer55555 @menolly5600 @ourrechte-blog @puppetmaster13u @rboooks @starlightcat04 @stormikitty @virgamsysxvolumes @zeestarfishalien @zylev-blog

[pennavnprojects]

JoanLock! WIP - Calling All Readers Pt. 2

Here's the rewrite. A while back, and I mean a whiiiiiiiile, I posted a first draft segment of my fanfiction-in-progress. Here's an update (finally)! Still some work to do, I got some great feedback at a local writer's group, but it's getting there!

A lone siren released a desolate “wop!” as Joan disembarked from the ambulance. She jumped down, shielding her eyes from the bright, flashing red and blue lights. She approached the yellow police tape, mentally hyping herself up for the next job. 

Her first night as an EMT had been a mixed bag. First two calls had been falls, an elderly woman down the stairs then a young man in his shower. After that, it had been a uni student in the throes of alcohol poisoning. Like Joan, she was blonde. Unlike Joan, she had spent the majority of the night partying, celebrating her induction into Uni. Joan wished she too could party it up, but didn’t envy the girl the hangover she was sure to wake with. 

Her last call came in around 3 AM. A woman was found unresponsive in an abandoned building on the edge of town. Joan warred with her sense of excitement at the potential crime and the sensibility that warned normal people did not get excited about violence. Her excitement was winning.

First on the scene, she briefly looked around for the 999 caller, but saw no one in the vicinity. She glanced to her partner, who shrugged. They both bustled up the building’s rotting stairs, checking each floor for a sign of life or a body. They found the latter. Her partner silently let her take the lead, and it was Joan who pronounced DOA. Her previous thrill flickered, gradually dying like an oxygen-starved candle, as she and her partner followed procedure, calling in Scotland Yard and vacating the premises.

Soon enough, several cop cars had arrived and Joan was subject to routine questioning. A lanky, younger-looking sergeant approached her, mouth quirking in a good-natured grin as she stuttered over his questions. It didn’t take much detective work, she was sure, for him to sus out she was green.

“Haven’t seen you ‘round here before. New EMT?” He scribbled on a notepad before offering his hand. “Greg Lestrade; get any more of these and I’ll be seeing you around.”

“Joan,” They shook hands. “Joan Watson. I’m part of a work-study program at St. Bart’s. Seems I’ll be around often.”

Their conversation went no further, as a dark figure interrupted them, “Lestrade, your crime scene is abysmal. As usual.”

Joan blinked, turning to face the presence. A young man, about her height, with a mop of curly dark hair leaned into Lestrade’s personal space. He had sharp features, and a long nose, which he looked down over to glare at the officer. He was wearing civilian clothes, Joan noted, and wondered how he had got past the police tape.

“Yes, yeah, yeah - get to the point Sherlock” Lestrade barely flinched at the sudden disturbance. He winked at Joan, carelessly waving a hand in the air. He never finished his thought.

Joan had less than a second to process the old-fashioned, unusual name. Sherlock’s eyes locked onto Joan. His weight shifted, and he was suddenly in her orbit. Joan sized him up. He was lanky, and didn’t look like much of a threat at first, but restlessness in his posture hinted at a manic energy.

“You,” He addressed her. “What did you notice about the body?”

Joan sent a glance Lestrade’s way. “I gave my statement to the police.”

“Useless, your talents are better served helping me.”

Joan ignored him, turning her full attention back to Lestrade. “Since when did Scotland Yard let civilians into their crime scenes?”

An irritated huff breezed over her crossed arms. 

Lestrade’s mouth pulled upwards into a grin wider than a Cheshire cat. “Since their older brothers have political pull. Insisted we make Sherlock here an amateur detective.”

“Consulting detective,” the Sherlock hissed. “Body. Now. Crime is waiting.” With a suffered huff, he flapped the ends of his coat and hurried off, ignoring the officers who shouted after him.

Greg was still chuckling under his breath at Sherlock’s exit. “Never seen ‘im so ruffled. Who are you, Joan Watson?”

“Never mind that - what the hell?”

“Oh, Sherlock’s a student - with you, sounds like - got a relative with pull over the force and an interest in forensics. Shows up and badgers everybody, then usually solves the case.”

“Bloody hell.”

“You’re telling me,” Greg gestured up to the crime scene. “You oughta see him work. Got a minute?”

Joan’s eyes flicked towards her EMT partner. Checking her radio, she noted there were no incoming calls or emergencies. The body had been interesting, and her sense of excitement flared back to life. She nodded to Lestrade. Waving away the two other sergeants at the door to the decrepit building, he ushered her up three flights of stairs to the familiar body. 

No longer preoccupied with saving a life, Joan could take a moment to evaluate her surroundings. The roof to the building had long rotted away in sections, staining old apartment or office walls an off-white, mildewy colour. The floor wasn’t in much better shape, boards swollen in the London rain, and now blood. The body was still left the way Joan remembered - face down near fingernail scratches in the floor - and covered in pink. 

Yes, the woman was dressed head to toe in the colour, with only one pump hanging limply off a foot. 

The amateur detective stood slightly away from the body, peering over the scene in thought. Some distance away, a forensic tech took photographs of the scene. The flash of the camera carved deep shadows into the lines of his face. It reminded Joan of old black and white horror flicks, where vampires lurked amid streaks of lightning.

“Cause of death.” Ordered Sherlock.

Joan sent a side-eyed glance to Lestrade. “Thought that was the coroner’s job.” 

“The coroner is an idiot, and I don’t care what he thinks. What would you say was the cause of death?” Sherlock spun and paced to the opposite end of the room.

Greg handed her a set of nitrile gloves with a shit-eating grin. Joan huffed, but snapped them on, to the shocked alarm of the tech in the room.

“She can’t touch the body!”

“She’s an EMT - Anderson, you dolt - she already has.” Sherlock said.

Ignoring them both, Joan squatted by the body and leant over, reassessing her initial observations. The woman’s eyes were open in that eerie, absent way normal for the deceased. Joan noticed burst blood vessels: petechial haemorrhaging. The body lay face-down, with the head twisted sharply to the shoulder. Joan slightly lifted it, like she had earlier to take an absent pulse, but this time, she focused on other details. The woman’s lips were blue and a faint whiff of gastric acid caught the air.

“Asphyxiation.” Joan determined out loud.

“By what cause?” Sherlock countered.

“She choked on her own vomit,” Joan continued.

“Finally!” Sherlock crowed. “Someone who isn’t completely useless!”

Joan continued to ignore him. She gazed at the throat, finding no evidence of bruising or strangulation. She examined the hands and wrists, where recently manicured hands were torn away in the woman’s manic scraping against the floor. There was no bruising on her arms or knuckles; no defensive wounds. Ripped pantyhose on her legs only suggested that the woman had tripped and tore them at one point, and her ankle with the missing pump was swollen, probably with an injury relating to the missing shoe.

“Someone coerced her here, probably with some kind of weapon. I think forced her to take something that caused her death.” Joan announced.

“Excellent, but you’ve missed major details,” the amateur detective burst into a rambling analysis of the scene. 

Joan peeled off her gloves and tossed them into a forensic garbage bag. She checked her watch as his tirade sparked an argument with Anderson. As the two strove to shout over the other, Joan strode back towards Lestrade.

“You weren’t kidding, Lestrade,” she mused aloud. “Does this happen often?”

“Call me Greg,” Lestrade said, “And you have no idea.”

“Do you make bets?” she eyed the way the detective and the forensics tech hurled insults at each other, close enough she thought they might start throwing punches.

“Not since the commissioner got wind of it.”

“Damn. Not much to look forward to then.”

Greg laughed. “Well, some nights after a long stretch, the boys like to get together for a pint. You should join us sometime.”

Joan sent him a lopsided smile. “Cheers, that sounds great.”

As static crackled over her radio, Joan’s remembered her partner was waiting outside. She bid Greg goodbye, leaving to finish her shift and looking forward to shaking off the crazy night.

Thoughts? What made this version better than the original (or what didn't)? Did I capture Sherlock and Joan's characters the same way as before? Leave your reactions in the comments!

[speedcomic]

Everytime I remember that Bart knows forensics I can't help but imagine a scenario where like the police is like closing up a crime scene and Bart is just standing there, in civilian clothes, rambling about oddly specific details about the case.

"The killer is most likely a man."

"How do you know that?"

"The stab wound came from above indicating that the perpetrator is most likely taller than the victim and the wounds themselves are quite deep meaning that it's made by someone very strong, not super strength strong, rather someone who goes to the gym quite frequently. Of course logically from what I've said the perpetrator could just be a tall and strong woman. However the cuts themselves are quite high in number, sloppily done and are very random in terms of placement, indicating that this was a crime of passion, something that is almost exclusively, except for a few exceptions, a male thing. Female killers are usually a bit more researched, do more calculated cuts and usually do just the precise amount of cuts needed to kill."

"No, I mean HOW do you know this?"

"Oh, you know, forensic science."

"???"

[brown-little-robin]

38: Lightning Strike (Part One)

part one | previous | next | masterlist | ao3 version

Nevada, 1:00 in the afternoon, Pacific Time. The land is hilly but bare, full of treacherous ravines, covered with sharp plants and occasional scraggly juniper trees. The sun is searing into Thad’s eyes, turning every blade of grass into high-definition constructs, bleaching the sky white. There’s no human habitation in sight, and, Thaddeus is sure, for miles around.

All of the Allens are here.

Max Crandall and Thaddeus Free approach the group at a walk. There is no wind. Thaddeus’s shorts brush against his legs; his arms are bare. He dressed for the weather, hot, and for lightning, in case this operation overwhelms his friction aura and ruins his clothing.

Thaddeus keeps his head high and walks exactly at Max’s side. He is running on adrenaline, his focus narrowed to this moment, this one last mission. Get a lightning rod.

Every speedster in the world is here:

Jay Garrick, doffing his helmet, the only piece of his uniform he’s wearing. Thaddeus gives him a nod. Jay didn’t often kill him, but when he did, he made it quick. He appreciates it.

Jesse Quick, the only person in uniform. Either she didn’t get the memo about coming in civilian clothing or, more likely, she doesn’t trust Thaddeus with her identity. Fair enough.

Wally West, one hand on Irey West’s shoulder, the other on Jai’s. Thad’s eyes widen. He’s never seen Irey in person before; her red hair shines in the sun. He didn’t think—he didn’t think of this. That ‘all speedsters’ would include Wally’s children.

They look younger than him. Irey is bouncing on her tiptoes.

Thaddeus feels hot, cold, hot again. He’s grateful to the Wests for allowing their children to come. He hopes this operation doesn’t make him look weak in front of his cousins.

Bart Allen.

Bart Allen, twenty-one physical years old, tall and strong, his ring on his finger, ready to unspool his costume at a moment’s notice.

Thaddeus feels sick.

To prevent the bitter twist of his lip from growing to something dangerous, Thaddeus looks to Doctor Morlo, the huge leather suitcase in his hand. And, beside him, Joseph Wilson.

Thad smiles. He can’t help it. Joseph is wearing blue jeans and a shirt with a cartoony sunflower and words on it: Hello Sunshine!

Joseph waves to Thad, beaming. Thad’s smile grows a little wider.

Max asks “Where’s Raven?”

It breaks the weird stillness. Jesse shifts her position. Bart… Thaddeus looks away. He doesn’t want to know.

Irey waves. “Hi, cousin Thad!”

“Hi,” Thaddeus says, as softly as he can. He wonders what Bart thinks of him treating Irey like this. He wonders if Bart is offended she likes Thad. “Nice to meet you, Irey.”

Wally clears his throat. “I was just going to go get Raven. Zatanna should have been here already; I’ll check in with her, too. Be back in a flash!”

Jai rolls his eyes.

Wally disappears, leaving a little dust cloud behind. Thaddeus's body tenses, and Max’s hand comes to his shoulder, pressing hard. Thaddeus lifts his shoulder into Max’s hand. He’s grateful to Max for grounding him.

His eyes flick to Bart. Bart’s eyes, the same bright yellow as Thad’s, shimmer in the harsh light.

Vwoosh. Thad jolts, but Max’s hand on his shoulder keeps him from bolting at the abrupt appearance of Wally West.

The woman Wally was transporting hops out of his arms. She’s the backup magician: Zatanna, Thaddeus assumes, in see-through diamond-patterned leggings, a white button-down, and a top hat. The outfit does not inspire confidence.

A bloom of what looks like black smoke folds out into the shape of a bird, and Thad’s attention is fixed on Raven.

She looks as pale and strange as the day she pulled Thaddeus inside her and told him his soul was wounded. Your wounds are deep, she said, but they can heal in time. Well, look how that turned out. Thaddeus clawed himself out of the worst of his lethargy and cruelty, if only for survival’s sake, but he certainly isn’t any less wounded.

Raven closes her eyes, looking sad, and Thaddeus abruptly remembers she's a telepath.

Zatanna finishes giving Thaddeus an appraising look and turns to Wally West. “You sure about this?”

“Excuse you, I am six hundred years old and I can speak for myself!”

Zatanna pivots on her heel. Her eyebrows are raised.

“And you’re sure about this?”

“Yes!”

Zatanna purses her lips. “Fine. Your call. But if you are who I’ve heard you are, you’ll want to consider all your options.”

She’s heard who he is?! Of course she has. Thaddeus pushes his fear down and focuses on the mission. Options. Thaddeus likes the sound of that.

“We can talk. In private.”

Thaddeus glances defensively around the group of speedsters. To his surprise, Wally West and Jay Garrick are nodding.

Max says, “I’ll come with you.”

Max leads the way away from the group, far enough that they won’t be overheard. Thaddeus insists on going further, into a little ravine behind some trees. Bart has the ability to read lips.

Zatanna looks more at home in the witchy dark below the pines than she did in the harsh light. She speaks first.

“Let me get this straight. You want to psychically link your soul with Joseph’s? Using the timestream? To help with… anxiety?”

“Using the speed force,” Thaddeus corrects, rather than addressing Zatanna’s judgment. He does not want to deal with this right now. He wishes Max would step in. But although he can feel Max’s presence, heavy at his side, Max is silent.

Zatanna says, “Two words for the same thing. And this doesn’t seem extreme to you?”

“Extreme works.”

Zatanna gives a quick shrug.

“Have you considered that medication could solve your problem?”

Thaddeus laughs. It sounds bitter even to his own ears.

“Don’t you know? Medications don’t work on speedsters. Our metabolism is too fast.”

“But magic works on you?”

“Uh—” he blinks, fear rising in his throat. Magic could kill him.

“So enchant your pills,” Zatanna says, like a command. “Honestly, people don’t think things through.”

Thaddeus flinches at the rebuke, but stays silent, thinking. Enchanted medication? Is that what she’s suggesting? Enchanted… medicine. Would that work? Can magic do that? Make a physical substance proof against his lightning metabolism?

“Would that work,” he says flatly.

“Sure.”

Thaddeus bites his tongue. He needs the pain to keep him from floating away into the cloud of fear choking him. He breathes through his nose.

“Thad-boy,” Max’s voice says. “Why don’t we take a while and think about it? You don’t have to do anything today.”

He bites down harder. A burst of pain.

“No,” he snaps. “No, I need a lightning rod. I need it. Today. This is not just about anxiety. Anxiety is the least of my problems.”

“I can at least help illuminate his path,” Raven says, in her low, resonant voice.

“How?” Max asks. His hand comes down on Thaddeus’s shoulder again.

“I can talk to him,” Raven says. “Talk through what’s hurting him. Thad…”

Thaddeus glares at a pine tree between Zatanna and Raven, unable to meet their eyes and talk at the same time.

Raven says, “Talk to me here. Now, while you’re safe.”

“He is safe with his family,” Max says.

“He feels unsafe.”

“Fine,” Thaddeus says loudly, horrified that Raven said that in front of the magician. “Yes. I’ll talk to you here.”

He glances at Zatanna. She’s watching him shrewdly. Grife.

Zatanna says, “I’ll talk to you later. I have the hour before my next show, and Wally West knows where to find me. I’m sure you can take your time.”

Her nose wrinkles unhappily.

Does she not want to be here? Why did she agree to come here, anyway? Is West burning favors for Thad? Thaddeus hopes not. He doesn’t want to be in West’s debt.

Raven is coming towards him. She crouches in front of him.

“Ready?”

Thaddeus gives her a sharp nod.

He’s falling. He has impressions of heat and wind, of things moving all around him; he’s surrounded by pillars and walls of flesh.

And then Raven is standing in front of him, her hands on his shoulders. His feet touch down gently on a massive bone.

Raven smiles at him.

“Sorry,” she says. “I know it’s not the most comfortable place, but I thought you’d like to talk privately.”

“I did.”

He opens his mouth to say something more, to… demand something, keep her off guard, but he can’t think of anything. He just wants to be done with all this.

“I know,” Raven says.

Thaddeus shudders. He hates knowing that his mind isn’t a private place.

Raven removes her hands from his shoulders.

“You’ve never had much privacy.”

“No.”

Thaddeus tries to be unemotional about it, but the idea of having privacy is bringing up images in his mind—stumbling out of the nutrient womb naked, ashamed without knowing why; disembodied voices reprimanding him for missteps in VR programs; a dentist pushing his face to the side and breaking out his tooth—

“Enough,” Raven says, and the images cease like she clicked a button.

Wow. Thaddeus wishes he could do that to himself on command.

Raven smiles, and he wrinkles his nose at her wryly.

“So,” he says. “Uh… illuminate my… path.”

Raven sits down and pats the ground—the bone—in front of her. Thaddeus hesitates. He feels like if he sits down, he’ll lose the jittery energy keeping him going.

Raven waits.

Thaddeus sits. Digs his fingers into his thighs.

“So, you want to be able to escape.”

Thad flinches.

Escape what? The speed force? Eobard Thawne?

The Flash family?

Himself?

There’s silence. Hot, stinking wind. He can’t look at Raven, he just can’t, he can’t force his eyes up to look her in the face.

He wants to escape.

Finally, he whispers, “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing,” Raven says softly. “I just need you to relax, Thaddeus.”

“I can’t.”

If he relaxed, everything would spill out, all the weak emotions and secrets and—no. He has to keep his mind on lockdown. Raven will just have to deal with it.

“It’s not for me that I ask it.”

Oh?

“Yes. I can’t bind you to Joseph if you’re…”

“Freaking out?” Thaddeus spits.

“Mm.”

Thad’s whole body tenses. Do you have to be calm to get a lightning rod? Will he fail before he's even begun?

Then the tension eases. He calms. His breath comes slower.

Huh.

“Was that you?”

“Yes.”

Huh. Again, Thaddeus wishes he could do that to himself. It was so easy for her to prevent him from spiraling into panic.

“If you need me to be calm, why don’t you make me?”

“It has to be you,” Raven says.

What does that mean?

“The emotional work… has to be you. If I force you to trust Joseph, it will fade within the day.”

His breath catches. Raven can’t help him?

“I can channel the speed force into your decision,” Raven replies softly. “I can intensify what you already feel to the point that… hopefully… your powers recognize that you need a lightning rod, that you trust Joseph enough for it to be him.”

“It’s not about trust,” Thaddeus corrects. “It’s… love.”

Raven tilts her head.

“Usually. But for you, for a lightning rod…” Thaddeus doesn’t want to hear this— “For you, it’ll be about trust.”

Thad is a freak.

Even if he is capable of a lightning rod connection, it can’t be love, for him. Just animal trust, like he’s some kind of lizard whose highest brain function is not to run away.

“No,” Raven says immediately. “I promise you’re not a freak. You’re just young.”

Thaddeus hesitates, thrown. What does age have to do with it?

“It is simply different for a child. Adults run to people they love as an act of sacrifice and devotion. Children run to people they trust.”

Oh. Well, that’s an interesting concept. Thaddeus has a vague idea that he saw children run to their parents in some of his simulations, the ones where Inertia’s fights caused destruction in civilian areas. He remembers how they’d call for their mother, their father, flee to their stronger and faster counterparts to be saved.

Thaddeus has never been one of those children.

“Why…” Thaddeus falters.

Why do you count me as a child? I’m six hundred years old and I’m not a child, never a child—

Raven answers with a question: “Isn’t it a relief?”

Yes. Yes, it is. Thaddeus would be completely doomed if he had to muster up lightning-rod love for Joseph. He’s not even entirely convinced that he loves Helen.

Yes he does.

No he doesn’t.

Yes, he loves Helen.

No, that’s not possible, right?

Raven is listening!

Thaddeus speaks over his own mind: “So I need to trust him?”

Raven nods, mercifully refraining from commenting on his internal debate.

“I can summon the speed force through you. What happens then… I don’t know. It’s up to you to communicate with it. I’ll attempt to aid you, but… there's only so much I can do.”

Communicate with the speed force. Like it’s a person. Hmm. Crazy as the idea is… isn’t that what he was doing while inside it? Running through it, keeping himself away from its powerful core and its spirits, trying to predict its actions, avoiding its storms? Didn’t he feel that the bubbles of calm were signs of approval?

Can he communicate to the speed force that he trusts Joseph? That seems like a pretty complicated concept for something as primal as the speed force to understand.

Can he even survive direct contact with it?

It’s not like he has a choice.

“All right,” Thaddeus says. “I’ll do it.”

The middle of Nevada, 1:18 in the afternoon, Central Time. The sun is searing into Thad’s eyes, bleaching the sky white.

Everyone is here.

The Flash family is watching him from a respectful distance away. Thaddeus ignores them. Bart hasn't tried to catch his attention, for which Thaddeus is… grateful.

Thaddeus is kneeling, hands on his knees, breathing, breathing, trying to stay calm. Joseph in front of him; their knees almost touch. Raven crouches like a bird to Thaddeus's left, Joseph's right. Zatanna is standing with Wally West, observing, ready to step in if she needs to. Doctor Morlo looks like a worried thundercloud, but he gives Thad a thumbs-up.

Raven says, “Take each other's hands.”

Joseph holds out his hands. Thaddeus leans forward and places his hands in Joseph’s.

Joseph's hands are big and warm. Thad wishes he could just give Joseph a hug and be done with this.

He summons his power. Raven will be inside his mind, there with him to help as she sees fit, but Thaddeus will start this process and Thaddeus will complete it. He feels the initial surge of power-adrenaline that comes with the speed force, the same every time, no matter how long he lives. But he takes it slow.

Joseph’s hands tighten. Thaddeus keeps his hands limp in Joseph’s; he doesn’t want to hurt the man, moving at this speed. He looks up at Joseph, watches how his breathing slows and stops as Thaddeus pulls more and more power into himself.

He tries not to think about the speedsters around him, watching him like a pack of dogs surrounding a coyote.

Joseph's eyes close, and by the time they drift open, Thaddeus’s arms are crackling with the sparks of his power. Thaddeus is fast enough to outrace a cheetah, a scream, Max Mercury himself. Faster.

I am going to summon the speed force now.

And then—

Brightness. A beam of light rises from the ground through his body. Other, thinner beams of light rise from the ground around them. An ozone smell. Lightning. Thaddeus pulls faster, and he knows lightning can’t hurt him but it’s so bright—

He throws back his head, tracing the lightning bolt up from himself. Through the white sky above him is coming another lightning bolt, bigger and stronger and faster.

The two bolts connect.

Thaddeus feels pain—an eternity—he thinks he screams, he doesn’t know, he can’t feel his body—it HURTS—it’s too MUCH—

And then he’s not in pain and he can breathe again, but there’s still this bolt of lightning cracking and spitting all around him, faster than he is, even through Thaddeus can feel—he knows that he’s faster than he’s ever been before. It’s unimaginably bright. Thaddeus is blind. And he is not alone.

The spirits. The spirits he spent so long running from, they’re here, they’re standing around him on each point where a feeler of lightning rose from the ground. He can feel them.

“You wanted to talk to the speed force, kid,” comes a voice from behind him. “Here we are.”

“I—” Thaddeus doesn’t want to understand, but he does. The lightning he’s encased in is the speed force itself, but he’s too little and weak to talk to it. He’d die. He has to talk to the spirits instead.

They’re heroes. Barry Allen is among them. They’re going to drag him back to the speed force and rip him apart. He’s going to die.

“Speak,” says a spirit from his right.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” comes a voice from his left.

“We were never going to hurt you, Thad,” in front.

“But speak. You haven’t got much time,” behind.

Thaddeus is trembling, hair floating around his head. An eerie burning sparks down his spine. Grife, the nerve damage this could do—could already be doing—

“I need help,” he says, pleads, throws out his weakness in front of these spirits like baring his throat. “I need a lightning rod. Please. Bind me to Joseph.”

He has nothing to bargain with.

He’s shaking convulsively. He doesn’t know if his hands, outside the beam of white lightning, are still resting in Joseph’s. He can’t feel his hands. His body is going numb and all his nerves are on fire.

“You ask us to provide what you can’t grasp yourself, little wayward bolt.”

Thaddeus falters. He can feel Raven in his mind, feeding him strength, but it’s like she’s pouring water into a broken cup.

“Please, I trust him!”

“You trust no one,” a spirit hisses. And then there’s a cacophony of voices, loud, crackling, around and inside him: “Child—” “Ran from us—” “Paranoid—” “Thawne—” “Seven years—” “Bart’s—” “Soul-bonded—” “If—”

HE CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!

Thaddeus looks up into the white of the lightning and screams.

The voices stop. Raven’s presence stops. The sounds of lightning stop. He’s in a blank white space, and there’s just one person in front of him. One single spirit, yellow and flickering. Thaddeus can’t make out any features.

There’s silence for a while. Thaddeus calms down, increment by increment. He lets his empty hands fall into his lap.

“Here, beloved,” the spirit says. “Is this better?”

Thad can’t speak.

[khorazir]

My contribution to this month’s @sherlockchallenge : Time Travel

Sherlock and John in Roman times: Sherlock is wearing a toga and John is dressed as a Centurio

Sherlock and John in 1066: Norman Sherlock and Anglo Saxon John

The War of the Roses: Yorkist Sherlock with John of the House of Lancaster handing him a red rose

Tudor Johnlock: Sherlock dressed in scholar’s robes and John as a Henrician courtier

Georgian Johnlock: Sherlock in civilian clothing and John in a captain’s uniform

Victorian Johnlock

1940s Johnlock (based on my WW2 fic Enigma): civilian Sherlock and naval officer John

2010 Johnlock: their first meeting at Barts