#I hate vigilante justice but what do you do when there’s no regulated justice?

[newreputations]

Crime getting crazy in my city. Like it used to be just gangsters shooting each other over drugs or turf, but now pretty much everyday the local fb page is security camera screenshots of ppl breaking into ppls vehicles and either ransacking the vehicle or stealing the whole thing. Local stores are getting hit every week. Shits happening in broad daylight too, no fear because our police are a joke and just spend their day wasting our tax dollars speeding around in their giant suvs, and when they do decide to do anything they end up using excessive force and getting sued and the criminal gets off with a slap on the wrist because the cops abused them. The way it’s going here I almost wish we had laxer gun laws like Texas because if the police aren’t going to stop hard working citizens from losing what they worked hard to get then we may as well be able to protect our properties and lives ourselves.

[phantoms-lair]

Hero's Spirit Snippet

A red bolt of plasma interrupted the fight and pinned the Hero Killer to the wall. "Izuku Midoriya what the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"Sorry Valerie," Izuku said weakly, the white ring signifying his return to normal forming along his middle.

"Don't you dare! Your living form actually has organs where those holes are and...you used the Wail didn't you?"

"Sorry," Izuku said weakly.

"You two," Valerie ordered Iida and Todoroki, "Get him out of here. Make sure he doesn't use his powers or changes back until those stab wounds have mostly filled in."

"What about Stain?" Iida asked, even as he moved to support his friend.

"He won't be able to hurt me or escape my tech. I'll keep an eye on him till reinforcements come."

"So you'll take all the credit?" Todoroki said dryly.

Valerie's eyes flared red. "I'm getting myself listed as a vigilante so Midoriya doesn't have to face the consequences of this. You realize if word gets out you fought a villain your protection is gone right?"

Neither Todoroki nor Iida knew what she meant, but the soft explative coming from their injured friend said volumes.

"Go." She ordered, and none of the three questioned it.

~

Iida had so many questions. Why had Midoroya referred to himself as undead and 'Valerie' called his normal state his 'living form'? Why had he said he'd been murdered by a villain? What 'protection' did he have and why would he lose it?

And yet he didn't think he could ask any of them. His idiocy was the reason Midoriya had been hurt so badly and them all put at risk. How could he face his friends, much less ask deeply personal questions?

"I guess I owe you guys an explanation?" Izuku asked weakly. The ring formed around his waist, but he banished it.

"No you don't." Todoroki said bluntly. "Personal stuff, especially the hard stuff, isn't owed to anyone. When I shared my past with you, it was because I wanted to."

Izuku was quiet a moment. "Maybe I should anyway. I thought I was okay with stuff, but obviously not if I lost it like that."

They ducked into an alcove, allowing him to rest and giving them a modicum of privacy. "Okay, so you know my quirk was latent and I only unlocked it last spring, right?"

Iida and Todoroki nodded. It was common knowledge that was why he had so much trouble controlling his quirk at the start of the year.

"Turns out that wasn't the case. Like, to be fair I thought it was. Most latent quirks emerge in times of high stress and being the victim of a villain attack fit. But All Might saved me at the last moment and it was fine." The hysterical note in his voice showed it very much was not fine.

"And then the ghosts. showed up. Which sounds stupid, but that's what happened. They were calling me 'The Great One' and -"

Todoroki sat up straight. "The Yeti-person who stopped the villain attacking the school. She apologized to 'The Great One'. I thought she meant All Might but-"

"It was me. " Izuku said dryly. "I wasn't keen to advertise the fact. And I also didn't want to explain she and the person she captured were ghosts."

Iida bit his tongue. Ghosts seemed beyond far fetched, but it didn't feel right questioning his friend on the matter.

"The dog is too?" Todoroki guessed. "That's why it can disappear and go through walls. And all those reports of people with similar powers breaking quirk regulation laws..."

"Ghosts." Izuku confirmed. "The Honor Guard try to keep as many as they can from getting through."

"Who?" Iida finally asked.

Izuku huffed. "Right, I guess I have to explain about him. Danny, hero name Phantom. He's from long ago. Before...before quirks, really. His parents were experimenting with a portal to the Underworld and he got caught in it. Changed him. Basically made him undead. And he decided to become a hero with it. He did a pretty good job, up until..."

Izuku swallowed. "Up until some fanatics backed by the American Government decided to basically blow up the Underworld to destroy all the unnatural things in it. But the Land of the Living and the Land of the Dead are connected, destroying one would destroy both."

"Danny sacrificed himself to save both worlds, destroying his parents gate in the process. He was mostly forgotten in the land of the living, as part of a cover up for the government to hide their involvement, but in the Land of the Dead he's like their All Might. This Legend that saved them all. He's got a gigantic following of people trying to live up to his ideals. The Honor Guard is a part of that. So is Valerie."

"He sounds like a true hero." Iida observed. "But you sounded upset when you first mentioned him."

Izuku left out a puff of breath. "Because I am him."

The other two just stared at him.

"Reincarnated." Izuku amended. "I was him in a past life. That's how I got his powers. It wasn't a close call, my body died and that triggered the undead powers from my past life. That also triggered the portal reopening, which is why the ghosts are coming through now. And it should be cool knowing I was a real hero in a past life, but I don't know if I can ever live up to everyone's expectations of me. And it's great I have so many people who want to help, but I also know each and every one of them would rather I be him instead."

"Midoriya, did you...see a councilor after the villain attack." Iida asked lenitively.

"Yeah," He shrugged. "New quirk, gotta figure it out and register it. Drove me crazy because it made no sense since, you know, turned out it wasn't a quirk at all."

"Not a quirk councilor." Todoroki clarified. "A trauma councilor." Izuku blinked at them.

"That's a no." Iida sighed, feeling another spark on anger in him. Thankfully not the maddening rage of before, but...he'd hated hearing Izuku talk of his treatment before he got his quirk and hated that even afterwards he still fell through the cracks. "You should have received some aid for dealing with such a horrible experience. Especially one bad enough you...are you entirely sure that you....?"

"I felt my lungs give out and my brain shut down." Izuku said simply. "I was fine after I transformed, though. I went home after the villain was captured."

"You didn't even go to a hospital?" Todoroki and Iida shared a look. They'd have to have a talk with All Might after this.

"I was fine."

"You were not." Iida insisted. "No wonder you reacted so poorly to Stain. You must think me a monster too." He had gone into that alley with the intent to kill for Justice. How could he be any different from Stain in Midoriya's mind.

"You're not a monster you just...weren't thinking straight," Izuku winced.

"What did she mean by protections?" Todoroki asked, steering the topic back.

"Okay, so Danny was a regular opponent to a lot of ghosts trying to break into the Land of the Living and a large amount started fighting him because they liked the challenge. It's been explained that I won't fight them until I get my Hero License, so that's been keeping them back. Some of the Honor Guard focus on keeping the more stubborn ones away from me, and Valerie acts as a bodyguard against those who make it through so they don't get their way after all. But if word gets out I fought a villain, that means I would be willing to fight, so they'll come after me in droves."

Another pang of guilt stabbed Iida. He'd screwed things up worse than he knew.

Todoroki reached into Izuku's oversized sleeve and grabbed his hand. A silent show of support. Just like Iida, the fact that Izuku had died and no one seemed to have noticed infuriated him. Izuku took the support and ran with it, grabbing Todoroki and sobbing his characteristic stream of tears. Todoroki shot Iida a glare demanding he join in the group hug.

Iida was unsure he was welcome, but complied. Izuku grabbed onto him too.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm crying,"

"You went through a terrible thing and weren't allowed to deal with it. Maybe now you can?" Iida suggested.

"You died. You're allowed to cry over it."

Izuku took that advice to heart, sobbing harder. He changed back partially through the cry and apologized for getting his blood (now red) on their costumes.

As they separated, Todoroki brushed some of the red off and stared at his fingers. The villain who'd attacked him, the hero who just left him, the ghosts who'd offered him guidance but no comfort, the system that ignored him. How many others had Izuku's blood on their hands as much as he did now and never even realized.

[anjuschiffer]

Amira Wayne - Chapter 6

Tbh, not quite satisfied not writing so much angst (or this chapter in general), but it twas necessary to take a break from it...

Day 6 of @biodad-bruce-month event!

Chapter 6: Meeting the Justice League

Edit: I fixed the alias...

-

P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan

Tag: @vixen-uchiha @we-want-mini-mini @ramos123 @bluesimani @redscarlet95 @greatcatblaze

-

MASTERLIST | FIRST | PREV | AO3

When Amira woke up, all she heard was yelling and shouting, causing her head to ache even more than what it did. Cradling her head, Amira slowly got up, noticing that she had her black gloves on, meaning she was still Ladybird. 

They still don’t know her identity. 

Good.

“-supposed to know that it was Bruce Wayne of all people!” Amira noticed it was the glowing man from before. He was sitting in what seemed to be a hovering green chair. 

So he was a magic user...kinda like how she was.

Speaking of her father, where was he?

“I tried to warn you.” Another man muttered, running a hand through his hair. He wore a blue bodysuit, an ‘s’ for an emblem on his chest. “But you decided to jump ahead, disregarding my warning of a civilian-”

“I don’t follow the orders of a person who just self-appointed themselves as the leader.” Greenie sternly said, crossing his arms. “Wait a minute. Last time I checked-”

“Will the two of you stop arguing like children and restrain yourselves?” The woman from earlier spoke, Amira relaxing when the woman looked at her with soft blue eyes. “Ladybird is awake.”

Amira watched as the woman approached her, the two men following right behind her. “Hello little one. Sorry, Ladybird.” The woman sat next to Amira, Amira scooting a bit away from her. “I mean no harm. My name is Diana. Diana of Themyscira.”

Amira remained silent, looking between the three adults. 

Who the hell were they?

“Maybe she only speaks French?” Greenie suggested. 

The woman looked back at Amira with a smile. 

“Est-ce que tu vas bien?” The woman asked her, Amira having to register her voice a bit before realizing what she was saying.

“I’m-I’m alright.” Amira responded, not missing the way both Diana and Greenie looked at her in surprise. “And I can speak and understand English perfectly fine...if that makes it easier for everyone.”

“A bilingual hero…” Greenie muttered. 

“Multilingual, actually.” Amira wanted to say with a smirk, but held herself. “Who are you and where am I?” Amira held her tongue about asking about her father, knowing it might jeopardize her identity, if they didn’t know it yet.

“As I said before, my name is Diana.” Diana gestures to the two men standing in front of them.  “These two gentlemen are Hal Jordan and Cla-”

“Superman.” Superman cut off, Amira noticing how skittish he was acting and how Diana gave him a quizzical look. Her heart stopped. Did he know?

“As for who we are, we’re the Justice League.” Diana explained, getting up and kneeling in front of Amira. “We happened to see the broadcast of your fight against Remediator and I have to say, you’re quite the skilled fighter.” 

Amira felt heat rise to her cheeks, pressing her fingers against them. When was the last time she was ever praised? She couldn’t quite remember.

“Diana, you broke her.” Hal pointed out, Diana glaring at him before looking back at Amira.

“Usually, we wouldn’t come in direct contact with other heroes from other countries, but I just had to go to Paris to greet the new Ladybug holder.” 

At those words, Amira felt her blood freeze. She quickly bolted off the sofa she was on and pushed it towards them, her yo-yo out and twirling in her hand as she glared at the three who looked at her wide eyed.

“How do you know about the Ladybug?” Amira asked, hating that her voice came out more like a growl than she wanted to.

“Ladybird, I didn’t mean to alarm you.” Diana explained, rising slowly. “The thing is-”

“Her mother -Queen Hippolyta- was a Miraculous holder, the previous Ladybug holder to be more precise.” Superman cut to the chase, earning a huff from Diana. “She got giddy at seeing the Ladybug miraculous back in action after hearing countless tales about it from when she was a child.”

“Well, there’s that but-”

“He’s here!” A voice interrupted, the group turning to see who it was, but Ladybird never let her guard down. Yes, her yo-yo was now back on her hip, but her hand hovered over the dagger on her back.

Tikki didn’t approve of Ladybird having a sharp weapon on her person, but Amira argued that it was necessary. After all, a yo-yo could only do so much.

“Who’s here?” Hal asked, watching as Flash entered the room.

“The one and only-”

“Batman?” Superman asked, watching the Dark Knight enter the conference room. 

When Clark had spoken Batman’s name, Diana noticed the way Ladybird tensed, Diana picking up on her change in stance. Ladybird was no longer in a defensive stance, her body now forgetting about keeping a distance from them. Now, Ladybird only had one thing in mind: escaping.

Just what was the relationship between Ladybird and Batman?

“Spooky? What are you doing here?” Hal asked, walking up to Batman. “Last I heard from you-”

“I’m here because of Mr.Wayne.” Batman spoke, looking at Amira. “He wants to know why three heroes thought it was a good idea to break into the civilian home he was visiting, nonetheless his friend’s home. While he’s not concerned about the damages, he is concerned about-“

“Odd way to show concern, sending Gotham’s vigilante instead of Mr.Wayne himself contacting you guys to give his piece of mind.” Ladybird said, everyone feeling the tension between the two...vigilantes?

Ladybug did say she wasn’t a hero.

“Wait-” Hal started, but shut up when Ladybird glared at him.

“Seeing as you have not else to say, Diana.” Ladybird addressed. “Why did you actually seek me?

Diana watched as Ladybird walked towards her, now standing between Batman and herself.

“Aside from paying my respects, I also wanted to ask you something very important.” Diana looked at her fellow members before continuing. “Do you want to join the Justice League? 

Here at the WatchTower, you’ll have access to all the information everyone helps to collect, use our gyms for practice and a nice home to stay in. One of us could even mentor you if you would like.  Oh! If you so choose to become a member, you will have to report everything that happens in your city. Of course, you’ll only be asked to do a daily report about the things in your area and be made to attend weekly meetings.”

Diana watched as Ladybird weighed in the pros of being a League member, watching her glance back towards Batman.

Just what was it that had Ladybird on edge?

“As intriguing the offer is, I decline.” Ladybird said, looking as Diana with narrowed eyes. “I won’t join your League of Heroes.”

“But Ladybird-” Diana started, only to stop speaking when Ladybird held up a hand.

“Yes, the offer is nice, but you mentioned having to make reports and sharing information. That is something I cannot do. I can’t just expose the information of every victim to Hawkmoth’s manipulation because it’s simply that, manipulation. These ‘villains’ are actually victims of Hawkmoth’s power, the people aren’t actually in control of their bodies once they are under it.

For that matter, I can’t risk the possibility of having one of you guys in Paris. Having to fight one of you isn’t something I want to do.” Ladybird reasoned.

“Okay, what if we agree to not step into your territory?” Hal asked, wondering what new excuse this girl was going to say.

“Highly doubt all of you will keep your promise. After all, the three of you stepped into Paris without a letter of advance. Using your excitement isn’t an excuse to just bend the rules to your favor. Rules and regulations are there for a reason. If the rules keep getting bent, what is the point of them then?”

“What about information? If I’m correct, you still don’t know much about-” Superman attempted to point out, but was stopped.

“I can handle manhunting my enemy on my own. Might take a while, but I rather do it alone. With less miraculous out for Hawkmoth to attempt to obtain, the more trump cards I will have at my possession.”

“Ladybird, please, reconsider.” Diana asked, holding Ladybird’s hands into her own. They were small. “We can help you. You're a child and you don’t deserve to have all this pressure on you. You don’t have to do it alone.”

Ladybird slipped out her hands, now glaring at Diana.

“Did you ask me to join the League because you thought I couldn’t handle this?”

“I know you’re capable of handling-”

“Then why do you want me to join the League so badly? So that you can keep an eye on the Ladybug miraculous? Or is it because you don’t trust a child with the miraculous your mother once wielded?” Ladybird asked, waiting for Diana’s answer. She never got one, but from the look in her eyes, it seemed to have been the latter.

“Ladybird. Thank you for coming.” Hal said, earning a glare that seemed all so familiar.

“If I remember correctly, I was brought here against my will. Not to mention you were the first to greet me with an attack meant to knock me out.” Ladybird hissed, turning to Superman. “Can you walk me to your door? I need to leave. I have to patrol in a few minutes.”

Superman nodded, gesturing Ladybird to follow him. 

As the two walked out the door, Superman couldn’t help but notice how Ladybird stood as far away as possible from Batman, even going as far as using him as a shield between the two of them.

“I’ll be guiding you to our zeta tubes. They’re how we get from place to place without the use of any type of vehicle. Comes in handy when you need to go to Paris and you live in the US.” Superman tried to lighten the mood, but only got a huff for an answer.

As the two continued to walk, Ladybird decided to speak.

“So, what’s your name? And I mean your real name.” she asked, Superman raising a brow. “It’s only fair for you to tell me your actual name when you already know mine is Amira Wayne.” Amira didn’t stop walking when Superman himself stopped. 

She finally decided to when Superman wouldn’t recover from the shock. Turning around, Amira sighed. “It took me a while to remember you, but I vaguely remember your face from this one time I waited for my father to come back from patrolling. Aside from super strength, you also have very sharp hearing. I know you heard the conversation between my father and I.”

Superman gulped, knowing he had to tell her that yes, he knew she was Amira Wayne. That she was Bruce’s kid. 

He had the biggest scoop of the year, of his entire career and he couldn’t say a single word because it could potentially get him killed. Because yes! He also just found out today that Bruce Wayne is Batman and just like the hidden child scoop, he couldn’t say anything because it meant death!

“Name’s Kent. Clark Kent.” Clark reintroduced himself, extending his hand for a handshake. Amira shook it.

“Kent from the Daily Planet?” Amira asked, a smirk coming to her face, Clark not liking that expression one bit. It looked eerily the same as her father’s. “I’m pretty sure you already know that you indirectly work under my father, yes?”

“Yes. Well aware.” Clark sighed. Damn Bruce and his countless wealth.

Now he wished he hadn’t heard the conversation from the apartment.

Diana had wanted to greet the new Ladybug holder, something that took Clark a few minutes to process as he absorbed the information.

After hearing Diana say she wanted to recruit the young hero, Clark made it his mission to go with her, seeing as it could be a potential story for the Daily Planet. Hal invited himself, Diana too eager to tell him no.

When the three made it to Paris, they were lucky enough to find the girl just entering her room, a red light enveloping the room before disappearing.

Diana wanted to quickly introduce herself to the new Ladybug, but Clark quickly stopped her when he heard Batman’s voice. Or at least the argument started with Batman’s voice, only for it to continue in Bruce’s. 

When Hal asked if they could go now, Clark told them to wait since there was someone else in the room.

He kept listening to their arguing until the red light enveloped the room again, causing the three to become concerned.

Clark kept listening to the conversation, accidentally muttering that the person inside was going to possibly take the miraculous. A decision he regretted.

“Then we have to save her!” Diana voiced, rushing over to help her mother’s protege with Hal following her shortly behind.

“Diana, Hal! Wait!” Clark tried to call back, but the damage had already been done when Diana returned with an unconscious Ladybird and Hal. “What-”

“The other person in the room sedated him. Or made him go to sleep. One or the other.” Diana said. “I’m going to go on ahead.” In other words, Clark had to deal with the mess his two teammates left behind. 

He had to deal with almost being killed by a kryptonite batarang Bruce had (for some terrible reason) after explaining to him why they were there.

Never again.

As Clark huffed upon recalling the events from earlier today, a blur came up to them. There, bouncing in front of them was Kid Flash.

“Superman! There you are! I heard we were getting a new recruit!” Kid Flash said with a smile. “Heard they were going to be the youngest one yet!”

Clark wondered how Kid Flash hadn’t said anything about- where was she? It wasn’t until he turned a bit that he saw her hiding behind him, her eyes looking at Speedy with curiosity.

“Well, we weren’t able to recruit her, but she’s right here.” Superman motioned Ladybird to come forward, which she attempted to do before Kid Flash dragged her out.

“You’re tiny! Probably younger than me too! Name’s West!”

“Ladybird.” Amira managed to say, still looking at Wally as if she had seen him somewhere before.

“Oh. We’re using our made up names.” Wally sheepishly said. “Name’s Kid Flash, but feel free to call me Wally!”

“Wally?” Amira repeated, Clark seeing tears pool in her eyes. “Wally...West?”

“Yu-” Wally stumbled back as Amira launched herself at him, hugging him. “What are you-”

A red light enveloped Amira, the girl dropping her transformation, looking at Wally with tears running down her face. “A...mira?” She nodded.

“Hi Wally. I’m sorry I never-” Her words were cut off as Wally hugged her back, squishing her in the process.

“If anyone should be apologizing, it should be me.” Clark stood there silently, watching as both teens kept crying into each other’s shoulders, not expecting Wally’s next words. “I should’ve begged Bruce to not send you to Paris. Especially when he didn’t even let you go to Jason’s funeral.”

-

Amira settled into her bedroom, surprised to see how quickly the league repaired her damaged skylight. 

When Amira walked through the bakery doors, Tom and Sabine quickly pulled her into a hug, checking her for any scratches, Amira pulling away from the smothering attention.

“Feels so weird being in here. It’s so small compared to your room in Gotham.” Wally mentioned, deciding to sit on the bean bag near the door. “So, how’ve you been?”

“Aside from Father continuing to isolate me from the world? Terrible.” Amira spoke, placing down the box that held her earrings. 

Thanks to Tikki telling her that she would not be able to see nor hear anything if she was renounced, Amira did just that. 

As soon as she dropped her transformation, she renounced Tikki, making sure to limit what Tikki knew about her. 

Yes, she trusted Tikki and in herself to not get her miraculous taken from her. However, not everything was set in stone and the possibility of having her actual identity being leaked by the Kwami was something Amira wanted to prevent at all costs. “I haven’t been able to contact Dick either.”

“Did he not give you his new number?”

“New number?” Amira asked, watching as Wally put the new number in her phone. 

“He moved to Bludhaven around the same thing Bruce sent you here.” Wally flinched as Amira glared at him, although he knew who it was truly for. 

“It’s been that long? And he never told me?” Amira whispered. What else didn’t she know about the things back home? “What about the new Robin? Do you know his name? Age? And my father. Is he part of the JL?”

“For that first one, I only know he’s younger than you. Nothing else. As for Batman, he turned the offer down before they were even able to finish their presentation.” Wally provided. “Amira, does...does your dad know you’re-”

“First one to find out.” Amira spat out, her phone deciding to go off at that moment. She sighed as she got up.

“Patrol?”

“Patrol.” Wally got up, hugging Amira one last time.

“Along with Dick’s new number, I up my number in there too. I’ll be there if you ever need me.” 

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Amira said, smiling at him. Grabbing the miracle box, Amira headed to the skylight. But before she left, she turned to Wally. “It was nice being able to catch up. If you want, grab my black card from my desk. I never use it, but you can go ahead and use it to buy yourself some of the bakery’s pastries. Although if it’s cookies you want, I suggest the sugar ones. I made all of those.”

Amira giggled when she saw Wally dash for the bakery with a grin on his face.

Now facing Paris, Amira put on her earrings, Tikki appearing before her.

“Is it time to go on patrol, Marinette?” Marinette nodded.

“Tikki! Spots on!”

NEXT

[wisteria-lodge]

Character Analysis - Sorting Sherlock Holmes (Sir Arthur Conan Doyle)

a quick note on why I’m moving away from the HP terminology

So @sortinghatchats is brilliant. Absolutely my favorite character (and person!) analysis system. Instead of one house, you get two - a PRIMARY (your motivation, why you do things), and a SECONDARY (your toolbox, how you get things done.) A very stripped down refresher --

IDEALIST PRIMARY Lion/Gryffindor - I do what I feel is right. (MORAL) Bird/Ravenclaw - I do what I decide is correct. (LOGICAL) LOYALIST PRIMARY Badger/Hufflepuff - I do what helps my community (PEOPLE MATTER) Snake/Slytherin - I do what helps me/my inner circle (MY PEOPLE MATTER)

IMPROVISATIONAL SECONDARY Lion/Gryffindor- Charge! React! Smash the system! Snake/Slytherin- Transform, adapt, find the loophole. BUILT SECONDARY Bird/Ravenclaw - Plan, make tools, gather information. Badger/Hufflepuff - Community-build, caretake, call in favors.

Now let’s talk Sherlock Holmes!!!

***

Mycroft Holmes has a terrifying Bird secondary. He knows everything. He sees everything. He holds all the information in his head, all the time, and can tell you exactly how it connects. “Spymaster Mycroft” didn’t become proper fanon until 1970: in the books he’s more like a human computer, or a Mentat from Dune. This man is incapable of improvising. He hates casual conversation, hates changing his routine, just wants to sit and process and plan. He is the cartoon version of a Bird secondary.  

Mycroft is so insanely ‘big picture’ that he barely notices specific individuals. He’s off in in the corner thinking about currency regulation and the situation in Siam. In “The Greek Interpreter” he hears about a woman who might be starving to death… and sort of vaguely puts it on his to-do list. Sherlock ends up handling it.

You could make a case for either a Bird or Lion primary. But I’m going with Lion. Mycroft values instinct like Lions do (”All my instincts are against this explanation.”) And Sherlock describes him as someone who “would rather be considered wrong than take the trouble to prove himself right.” This is teasing, but it’s a joke about a Lion who just sort of feels the answer, not a Bird who needs a reason to be correct. Mycroft’s Cause, the one we see him respond to emotionally, is the smooth functioning of his world. He has a little pocket carved out for his brother, but if he had to choose between the country that he embodies and Sherlock Holmes’ well-being, it’d be England every time.

Knowing that Mycroft has that much power but doesn’t care about individual people makes Sherlock... uncomfortable. It takes him a while to even mention his brother to Watson. And then he lies about how important Mycroft’s job is. Thematically, this where Moriarty comes in. James Moriarty – the older genius hiding deep in the establishment, running a criminal empire from behind a tenured professorship, never getting his hands dirty – is Dark Mycroft. Because Sherlock is pretty sure his brother is one of the good guys. He’s pretty sure Mycroft isn’t going to break bad and go full-on ‘ends justify the means’ supervillain.

But… like… he could.

Sherlock Holmes is also defined by his Bird secondary. His deductions, data, knowledge of crime – it’s his loudest trait. But it’s a model. He tells us it’s a model. This “habit of observation and inference which I formed into a system” is something he built – and honestly, he probably built it for Mycroft. The Holmes brothers don’t do conversations, they have deduction games. Sherlock never wins, but at least he plays on Mycroft’s level.

(Everything about Sherlock Holmes makes more sense when you think about Mycroft. Like the “brain-attic” metaphor. How did Sherlock get this idea that there’s some fast-approaching limit to the actual pieces of information he can fit in his head at once? Because he knows someone with far, far greater processing power).

Underneath this logical Bird secondary model, Sherlock Holmes has something that looks a lot more Snake He’s moody and mercurial. He improvises on the violin to help himself think. He loves acting. He loves disguises. He crushes on Irene Adler because their Snake secondaries have so much fun playing together. And when it’s important, Holmes goes full-on Snake. Need to get Watson away from Moriarty? Better forge a letter sending him on a fake errand.

And as far as primaries go...  he’s a Badger. Sherlock Holmes cares about people. Oh wow does he care about people. If he doesn’t protect his client, it’s not a win – even if he solved the case with some brilliant bit of detection. He despises blackmailers, because they destroy lives in a cold, impersonal way. (At least murderers care.) He doesn’t mean to upset people with his deductions, and apologizes when he gets too coldly Bird: “Pray accept my apologies. Viewing the matter as an abstract problem, I had a forgotten how personal and painful a thing it might be to you.” When Watson talks about the “depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask,” Holmes is thirty seconds away from going vigilante killer because somebody hurt John Watson.

But the feeling isn’t just Watson-centric. Holmes doesn’t require Watson at his side the way a Snake would, because as long as he knows Watson is safe and happy, he is content. Holmes need-bases. It’s important that he works for people who need him. He generally dislikes working for the rich or upper-class (Soviet Russian Sherlock Holmes was totally a thing, they didn’t have to change much). He also has a *real* problem with overworking himself, which is very much a Badger primary and not Snake primary thing to do

He even community-builds. His Baker Street Irregulars, his connections over at Scotland yard, his tribe of interesting contacts and informants. Holmes values community. To him, community = safe. He loves London, but isolated rural areas makes him nervous:

“[in London] there is no lane so vile that the scream of a tortured child, or the thud of a drunkard’s blow, does not beget sympathy and indignation among the neighbors, and then the whole machinery of justice is ever so close that a word of complaint can set it going... But look at these lonely houses, each in its own fields… think of the deeds of hellish cruelty, the hidden wickedness which may go on, year in, year out, in such places, and none the wiser.”

And don’t get me wrong. Holmes loves his double Bird armor. It makes him feel powerful, and hides the fact that he cares so damn much. He likes to pretend he doesn’t: to care is to be weak, ineffective, and untrustworthy. (Mycroft is probably to blame for this bit of thinking too.) But Sherlock Holmes is still able to take off his Bird. He takes it off around Watson. 

Dr. John Watson is a bright charging Lion secondary who is completely incapable of telling a lie. He’s ex-military. He’s Holmes’ muscle/backup. He’s got a gambling problem. And the thing about Holmes and Watson’s dynamic is that while Holmes calls the shots about 90% percent of the time, when it’s important – Watson goes full unstoppable-force Lion. And Holmes just buckles.

“Well, I don’t like it ; but I suppose it must be,” said I. “When do we start?” “You are not coming.” “Then you are not going,” said I. “I give you my word of honor – and I never broke it in my life – that I will take a cab straight to the police station and give you away unless you let me share this adventure with you” “You can’t help me.” “How do you know that? You can’t tell what may happen. Anyway, my resolution is taken.” Holmes had looked annoyed, but his brow cleared, and he clapped me on the shoulder. “Well, well, my dear fellow, be it so.”

Watson’s absolutely a Lion Primary too. First going into medicine, then joining the army even when that’s not the best career move? At the beginning of A Study in Scarlet, Watson is in terrible shape. Can’t sleep. Can’t stand loud noises. He’s “spending such money as I had considerably more freely than I ought.” But it’s not so much the PTSD as it is the the lack of purpose that’s getting to him. He talks a lot about his “meaningless existence” and how how “objectiveless was my life.” That’s a hurting, burned Lion, without a Cause.

And then Sherlock Holmes stumbles in. Overnight Watson’s life has meaning. He is going to help Holmes bring criminals to justice. He is going to make sure Holmes gets the recognition he deserves. And he’s going to get him clean. (ACD gets massive kudos for being against recreational cocaine and morphine use). The things Watson loves about Holmes, things like his “high sense of professional honor” – those are things that get under the skin of a Lion Primary. This is a guy with pictures of abolitionist preachers framed on his wall. John Watson’s not subtle. 

“You don’t mind breaking the law?” [said Holmes] “Not in the least.” “Nor running a chance of arrest?” “Not in a good cause.” “Oh, the cause is excellent!” “Then I am your man.”

And of course, Holmes got lucky in Watson too. Holmes is a Loyalist primary who distrusts other Loyalist primaries – you can’t really blame him, he comes across so many repulsive ones in his day job. (Interestingly, the handful of times Holmes absolutely misreads a motive – “Yellow Face,” “Missing Three-Quarter,” “Scandal in Bohemia” – it’s because he’s going up against a Loyalist primary who is using their powers for good.) 

But Watson is a trustworthy, dependable, predicable, honorable, Idealist who can  look like a Loyalist because his Cause is so focused on one person. So Holmes can be secure in his doctor’s devotion while also getting to lean on the instincts of someone just unflinchingly moral.

tl;dr

Mycroft Holmes – Lion Bird. An extremely big picture Lion whose Cause involves keeping England together. He’s the light-side counterpart of Professor Moriarty.

Sherlock Holmes – Badger Snake. Builds a loud Double Bird model, partly for pleasure, partly have a relationship with his brother, and partly because dealing with so many low-life Loyalist primaries makes him distrust those instincts in himself.

Dr. John Watson - Double Lion. When we meet him he’s pretty burned, due to his twin Causes of Queen and Country not really working out. Luckily, he meets Sherlock Holmes, and finds a new Cause in him.

[thepartyresponsible]

after a somewhat prolonged absence (moving is a goddamn nightmare), here’s the second soundtrack fill! this one is for an anon who asked for jason todd + "why you gotta kick me when i'm down" by bring me the horizon.

so here’s what happens when superheroes/vigilantes are (vaguely) legitimized and organized into authorized teams, but jason still manages to ruin his life.

no real warnings for this one, except it’s not overly kind to bruce wayne.

Jason gets traded to SHIELD after he shoots the Penguin in the face. He’s probably supposed to be grateful that he gets traded at all. Unnecessary kills are frowned upon all over, and Bruce especially takes a pretty grim stance on them.

Hell, Bruce is so pissed about this kill that two of Jason’s molars are still sitting a little loose in his jaw when his plane touches down in D.C.

The media’s been brutal about it, especially in Gotham. It’s nothing new. They’ve hated Jason since he crawled out of Crime Alley. They hate Jason, and they hate the Outlaws, and they’ve been gleefully running grainy videos of Bruce backhanding Jason’s mask to pieces all Goddamn week.

There were reporters camped outside Titans Tower from the moment Roy Harper brought him in, and Dick, because he’s Dick, never sent them away.  

“It’s public property. They’ve got a right to be there,” he’d said, while he packed Jason’s mouth with gauze and cleaned up cuts and clucked over bruises. “They can’t get inside.”

And Roy would’ve chased them off, probably, except Roy got dragged into trade negotiations immediately and left before Jason even woke up the morning after Bruce kicked his ass.

Jason wasn’t part of any negotiations. Dick ran what interference he could, but half the country, including Bruce, wanted Jason in prison. In the end, SHIELD is better than he could have hoped for. It’s better than he deserves. He’s got no right to be angry about it, even if D.C. is not his city. Even if he worked damn hard, for years, to stay out of SHIELD and its reach.

But the collateral damage is pissing him off. Roy, pulled from the Titans, stepping in to run the Outlaws. Kate Bishop, loaned to the Titans to fill their archer slot. And Peter Parker, graduated early from SHIELD, sent to round out the West Coast Avengers.

Parker, who’d been angling for a spot on the Avengers. Who earned that spot. Who’s everybody’s Goddamn darling.

Jesus Christ, people barely tolerate Jason in Gotham. He’s not going to be able to set foot in New York for years.

When he steps off the plane, he expects to be met by agents. He’s not technically in anybody’s custody; he’s been traded, not incarcerated. But Dick and Wally escorted him to his gate, possibly to keep any riled-up civilians from spitting in his face, and he feels rootless and exposed, navigating the airport alone.

It’s fine. He’s not armed, but, in a place like this, he doesn’t need to be. There’s no threat here.

He nudges his teeth with his tongue, feels them give more than they should. The stitches dissolved two days ago, and the swelling’s mostly gone, but the bruises on his face have settled in to linger.

He gets a few wide-eyed stares, but it’s hard to tell if anyone actually recognizes him or if it’s just the bruising turning heads. Most people only associate Red Hood with the mask. He’s lucky that way. He’s been careful to keep his face out of the press.

SHIELD, of course, does all its work with its Aux agents bare-faced and uniformed, all their stats and headshots available for public perusal. So that’s probably the end of whatever anonymity Jason had managed to preserve.

Which is fine. He wouldn’t’ve had any anonymity in prison, either. So it’s not like he’s losing something he ever had a chance to keep.

He’s standing in baggage claim, waiting for the duffle bag of clothes Artemis brought over, when a man wearing a decent suit and a blandly pleasant expression approaches from his left. “Phil Coulson,” he says, hand extended. “From SHIELD.”

Phil Coulson is a name that sounds vaguely familiar, like something Dick said to him a couple dozen times while Jason was busy trying to pretend none of this was going to happen. Jason sizes him up and then reaches out, shakes his hand. “Hey. Jason Todd, from--” He cuts himself off, flounders.

Jason Todd, from the Outlaws.

But he isn’t. He built that team. He was the cornerstone of that team. The Outlaws have never existed without him. And now, for nothing, for a father that maybe at some point cared about him, he’s ruined the whole Goddamn thing.

“From SHIELD,” Phil supplies, patiently.

“Yeah,” Jason says. He turns away, grabs his bag. “From SHIELD.”

Phil gives him a long, evaluating look. His eyes linger on the bruising around Jason’s jawline, and Jason doesn’t fidget, doesn’t drop his eyes. After a tense, drawn-out moment, Phil nods. “Alright, Jason,” he says, “let’s go.”

  He doesn’t expect a warm welcome. He escaped SHIELD training by virtue of Bruce’s dogged resistance to oversight and the fact that, technically, Jason put on his first costume before the Auxiliary Justice Department was established. He was grandfathered in, had to register but never needed to be licensed, and, for the past seven years, he’s just been one of the many now-authorized vigilantes who refused any kind of PR-pleasing government training.

Now here he is, showing up at SHIELD’s doorstep like a puppy no one wanted. And he’s taking Parker’s place, which sure as hell isn’t going to endear him to anybody.

He’s heard about trades like this. People being traded into teams that don’t want them. It was never like that on the Outlaws, because the Outlaws were, technically, under Bruce’s watch, and Bruce’s theory on teamwork has always been less is more.  And it’s not like that on the Titans or the Teen Titans or any of the teams directly below the Justice League, either, because they’ve got enough draw to only get the best.

But some of the government teams. Some of the military teams. Not so often with the higher-ranking SHIELD teams, but everybody heard about the mess on Rumlow’s team a few years ago. Everyone knows what they were doing to Barnes before Rogers found out.

Hell, Xaiver’s school is full of former government recruits who dropped out and need to be reconditioned – whatever the hell that means – to civilian life.

“Regulations require that you stay on base through the weekend,” Coulson tells him.

“Sure,” Jason says. He’d been under the impression that he’d be staying on base through the rest of his natural life, so weekend, in comparison, sounds mercifully reasonable.

“Pending clearance from Medical, you’ll be moved into the team’s building on Monday.”

Jason stares out the window, watches the cars. “Medical?” he asks, because it seems like the least treacherous part of that sentence.

“I was told,” Coulson says, with a sudden sharp edge to all that quiet patience, “that you were cleared for fieldwork.”

Jason’s tongue goes to his teeth, works at the swollen line of his gums. “Jesus,” he says, “it’s just cosmetic. And I probably shouldn’t blow anyone for a week, so maybe swap someone else in for the time-sensitive dick-sucking jobs.”

The look Coulson gives him is dangerously, infinitely bland, and Jason’s heart double-skips in his chest as it occurs to him that maybe that kind of shit is supposed to be on the table now. What the hell would he know? He’s worked with Bruce his whole career.

Jason, for the record, would happily take a mask-shattering, teeth-loosening backhand over being sent out to suck some scummy government dick. Jesus, he’d take the hit every day of his life.

“Is that a common work requirement in Gotham?” Coulson’s tone is light and even, professionally curious.

“It absolutely is not,” Jason says.

“That’s good,” Phil says, as he expertly navigates a u-turn through four separate lanes of traffic with all the nonchalance of someone turning right on red. “So you’ll have Medical, and then sexual harassment training, and then you can move into the team building on Monday.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jason says, forehead thunking into glass hard enough to make his bruised temple ache. “You fucking Feds.”

  They don’t go to the SHIELD base. They go to a small Italian restaurant in a strip mall. “We’re a little behind schedule,” Coulson says, as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “They already have a table. Let’s go.”

Jason follows because he’s got no right to stay behind. He keeps his mouth shut because he’s got no reason to need more information. He’s not running anything; he’s nobody’s captain. He traded all of that for a bullet in the Penguin’s head, and maybe it was worth it, maybe it wasn’t, but it’s already done.

Coulson gives him another look as Jason falls in step beside and a little behind him. It’s a thoughtful, calculating look, eyes unreadable, mouth a flat line. It’s the kind of look Bruce used to give him, before he gave up and kicked Jason out of the cave. It’s the way someone looks at an investment they’re starting to reconsider.

Well, it’s not Jason’s fucking fault if SHIELD made a bad trade. The whole world was running headlines saying the best thing to do with him was lock him up in isolation, keep him confined for the next ten, fifteen years. It’s not like SHIELD wasn’t warned what a shitshow Jason is.

As they step into the restaurant, make their way toward the back, Jason wonders if SHIELD did this as a favor to the Titans and Outlaws or as a way to get some kind of leverage on Bruce. He hopes they had the sense to angle for a favorable relationship with the Titans. If they think Bruce Wayne is going to give a damn what SHIELD does to him now, Jason has two loose teeth, three bruised ribs, and an impressive array of week-old bruises that would argue to the contrary.

“Here,” Coulson says and nods towards a table with two occupants.

Jason knows, in a glance, that it’s Hawkeye and the Widow.

They’re both watching him. Barton’s subtler about it. He’s got a sort of hapless, heedless air about him that makes his awareness seem accidental. It’s hard to take him seriously with that line of butterfly bandages above his eyebrow, the half-healed scab over his badly split lip. He reminds Jason of Roy, a little, and Jason almost smiles at him, because it’s good to see anything that looks like home.

And Romanoff could be Artemis, with the catlike stare she levels his way. Not aggressive, necessarily, but patient, intent. Assessing. Her body language lacks the casual, lived-in ease of Barton’s mannerisms. But that could be because she’s sipping elegantly from a glass of red wine while Barton is wrestling a plate of spaghetti into submission with a fork held awkwardly between bandage-wrapped fingers.

“Clint, Natasha,” Coulson says, as he slides into one of the open seats across from them. “This is Jason Todd.”

“Hey,” Clint says, around a mouthful of spaghetti. “I ate your breadsticks.”

“And he’s very sorry,” Natasha adds. “And he’s buying you more.”

Jason stares at them. And then he stares at Coulson. And then, because he’s got fuck-all else to do, he settles into the seat across from Clint and narrows his eyes. “You’d fucking better,” he says.

Sometimes, when he can’t find the fight he knows he’s losing, he starts a new one. It saves time.

But Clint just grimaces, looking good-natured and abashed. “Sorry. Got hungry.”

Jason furrows his brow, keeps staring. Clint blinks and shrugs, ducks his head so he can funnel more spaghetti into his mouth, and Jason wonders if he’s actually supposed to think that Clint Barton – Hawkeye, World’s Greatest Marksman, Avenger – is as friendly and harmless as your average Golden Retriever.

“Let’s see you,” Natasha says, leaning forward, and Jason goes completely still as the Black Widow’s fingers curl around his chin.

Jesus Christ, he thinks. Jesus Christ.

The Avengers are the reason their work was ever legitimized. The Avengers are the reason the Accords were reworked toward mercy. Without the Avengers, there would’ve been a war, and Jason knows exactly how that would’ve ended up for groups like the Outlaws, who were always a special target, even back when all vigilantes were criminals.

The Widow’s fingers are cold against his skin. She lifts his face toward the light, runs her thumb so lightly over the bruising along his jaw that he barely feels it.

“Get fussy with the flight attendants?” Clint asks. “I got locked in the lavatory once.”

And he is like Roy, because, when Jason glances over, he’s got a big dopey smile on his face and a look in his eyes like someone, somewhere, is going to lose blood over this.

“You guys don’t watch TV?” Jason should pull away from the Widow. Her fingers are still on his face, and he has to speak soft and careful to keep from dislodging her. It’s making him sound young and unsure, almost shy. “Batman doesn’t keep killers on his teams.”

“If you’d been a shade less study,” Natasha says, tone strangely controlled, nearly singsong, “Bruce Wayne would be a killer.”

Jason blinks. He remembers the hit that shattered his mask, the starlight sickness of heat-pressure-pain that broke his brain to pieces, left him too Goddamn dizzy to remember to get his hands up to block the next punch.

He remembers, also, the hot splatter of his own blood when Bruce opened his fucking throat with a batarang years ago.

“Bruce, you know.” He tips his head out of the Widow’s grasp and steals her wine, just to give his hands something to do. “Sometimes, when people don’t listen, he gets loud about things.”

“Sometimes,” Clint says, lifting the wine right out of Jason’s hand, “when I don’t listen, Coulson pulls me from the field, makes me go to therapy.”

“Wow,” Jason says, “I think I’ll take the punch to the face.”

Clint grins at him. His grin is sharp enough to cut someone. Beside him, Natasha mirrors it. “Yeah,” he says. “Devil you know, huh?”

“Okay,” Jason says, because this whole week has been a stretch of nightmare after nightmare, waking up to realize it’s getting worse every time he opens his eyes. He was ready for a bleak SHIELD room that locked from the outside. He was ready for revenge. He was ready to be made into a point, a cautionary tale for all the other Auxers who refused licensing. “What the fuck is this? Why am I at dinner with two Avengers? The fuck is going on?”

Natasha swipes her wine out of Clint’s unresisting fingers, brings the nearly-empty glass up to her mouth. “Coulson believes in team bonding rituals,” she says.

“I’m not on your team,” Jason says. He’s not. He’s here because nobody wanted him. He’s here because SHIELD was better than prison. He’s here because he fucks up every single thing he touches.

“Well,” Clint says, “not until I get you those breadsticks.”

Jason gives up on the pair of them and turns to stare at Agent Coulson, who’s been casually perusing the menu throughout the entire conversation. “What,” Jason says, as clearly as he can, “the fuck.”

Phil Coulson smiles at him, calm and unconcerned and vaguely benign. He looks like someone who’s used to dealing with people like Jason, which is a hell of a change from the way Bruce always looks at him. For years now, Bruce has been staring at Jason like he’s got no idea what species he is.

“Jason,” he says, “what do you know about Strike Team Delta?”

[codenamesazanka]

extremely hastily written, in before Chapter 218 comes out

We know that when Quirks started appearing, people freaked out. Quirk-users were feared and attacked, while Quirk-users also used their new found powers to do whatever they wanted ie commit crime. Vigilantes came about from this, an informal law enforcement and peace keeping, but once the government got a hold of things and started regulating quirks, they picked their choice of who got to be Heroes while the rest became Villains for not having the license to use their quirks. Ever since then, that system has remained the same, or so I suspect. People aren’t allowed to use their quirks willy-nilly, they need licensing, which occurs through mostly hero schools. 

But what of people who can’t attend hero schools? Suddenly they aren’t allowed to use their quirks, which is like not being able to use an innate part of yourself. That must be frustrating. For quirks that are always ‘on’, that must be even worse - they’ll have to suppress it with external means. This could be support items - but support items are highly regulated, not everyone can just have one. More licensing, more extra work to suppress something you didn’t ask to be born with. 

Horikoshi written in one of the extras that there’s Human Right groups for Quirks - they want the normalization of quirks, they want accommodation not suppression. That’s why they protested that news reporter who cut off his horn (his quirk) so he won’t block presentations. I imagine they want decriminalization of quirk usage...

...but that would mean everyone can be able to use their quirks, and that would be hard to oversee in day to day life. No doubt some people would use it for bad stuff, but also there will be activities that skirt the line. Like if Momo can create anything she wants, we’ll have to ask what’s she allowed to create and if she can give it to others and if that could potentially effect the economy (as she said herself). Or, like, idk, what if a homeless person use their quirk to build their own house? They just build it in an alleyway or abandon lot. I think real estate people and who oversees property stuff won’t be happy about that. 

This also means that when people get confronted by heroes, what if they can use their quirks to fight back against what they believe is undue and excessive force? Of course, police don’t want you to ever fight back, but excessive force is a thing that brings penalty. Imagine the court cases where people fight over whether Heroes was using excessive force and the defendant was only using self defense to prevent himself from getting more injured than necessary. No more easy arrests. 

But most of all, this means the government won’t have a monopoly on the labor of quirk-users. They’re Heroes, but they’re still workers. They provide their labor. (Do Heroes have a union???). 

The thing about Hero Schools is that they train fighters for the government, and they don’t just make them proficient in quirk use, they’re actively training these kids to be experience warriors. Lethal. This makes them wayyyyy more powerful than most of the population, save for the people who train their quirk secretly, of which would include villains. Sure, in real life we have people who have military training and other expert combat skills, but I think we can agree there’s a huge difference between someone who can karate chop someone, and someone who can immediately scorch an entire city block. 

Quirk Liberation Army sounds about right. The name harkens back to revolutionary groups that fought for freedom. I thought that they were historical, people who fought for their freedom, for a lifestyle not ‘pretend you don’t have quirks’ but one that is ‘quirks should be used and integrated into society’ or maybe even ‘we should make a society where only quirk users live’...but that’s kinda null once society has 80% of the population with quirks. 

But apparently they’re still around. These people want quirks to be freely used... but maybe also to create a society govern by quirks, a hierarchy of powerful people, with quirkless people at the bottom. 

(I personally was never too sold on the fact that quirkless people are necessarily oppressed, but I acknowledge the bias and discrimination and the increasing lack of knowing what to do with them in like schools and whatever else) 

A society that freely uses their quirks also has big implications for businesses. Heroes are super popular, almost like idols, and their claim to fame is a lot of how they use their quirks, how they show off their quirks. These agencies, the people that market them, the people that sell their merchandise and everything - they also have a monopoly. You have a small subset of people that make money off the fact that there is a small subset of people showing off their quirks. 

In the spin-off, there’s a character that wants to be an idol, and she uses her quirk to have street performances - but that’s illegal. She has to run from the cops. A world where people can use show off their quirks, you’ll have youtube stars, you’ll have a lot from street performances, people can market themselves their own abilities. They’ll be able to train themselves to the level of Heroes, even. There’s probably parallels about how the entertainment industry was affect by the rise of self-made youtube stars, and I’m likely overplaying the effect, but yeah. Like that. 

Moreover, how do kids who want to go to Hero schools train their quirks? Do they all go into the woods and practice? Do the police turn a blind eye because they know they’re kids wanting to be heroes? Or is there, like in my headcanon, spaces where people can train their quirks - but again, are probably regulated again. If they’re private spaces, this means that someone is profiting off that - rent a gym for 2 hours, your kid can train. But this would be a barrier to those that don’t have the money or time to use, what, 6 hours each week to go to one of these gyms and train. Uraraka is poor, that’s why she applied to hero schools, and I’m totally not dismissing her hard work, but her quirk is relatively benign. She practice floating stuff, and her parents work construction, so she can practice heavier stuff relatively easily. But for a kid with an, say, a emitter fire quirk, that’s harder to do in a city with little wide space. There’s a reason that Endeavor prob has a huge house with a dojo so he can train himself and his kids with all that fire and no worry about property damage. 

Shigaraki and his gang hate the current system of Heroes. Toga says she wants a world that’s easier to live in - she is talking about having to suppress herself and being shunned for having a blood quirk? Twice’s quirk affected his mental health and he thinks he’s not virtuous to be saved by heroes. Magne also rebelled against societal norms. Shigaraki himself hates heroes for being the face of justice, when they’re flawed justice (Justice is always going to be flaw when it’s humans dishing it out, but still); and with a disintegration quirk like his, he’s probably would be shunned in society. If he killed his dad, he’s the kid who would be known as ‘the kid who killed his dad with his quirk’. He’ll prob be carefully monitered and made to wear gloves mandatorily. I know there’s lots of headcanons where he wear gloves to use his hands freely, but imagine having to wear them constantly, almost 24/7. 

Imagine that if he wants to let his hands air out a bit, his teachers start getting antsy and wants him to put them back on immediately. Imagine people waiting for you to fuck up. Hitoshi experienced a bit of that, but he isn’t shown to be monitored like that, but his is a voice quirk and it’s much more a visible violation of rights if he was forced to not talk, effectively made to be mute. 

Shigaraki also wants to fuck shit up and hates rules and is all for chaos, so he doesn’t have the best reasons to hate current society, but yeah. His speech to Bakugou is how Villains feel bound by rules and regulations that limit their freedom. Suppression. 

The current setting of My Hero Academia is one that’s implied to keep the current status quo of ‘let’s act like people don’t have quirks and carry on’. Gran Torino says that this age is an age of ‘suppression’ and I didn’t understand that at first, but now it makes sense. It’s suppressing quirk usage, it’s suppressing a possible right to bodily autonomy and self-determination. And what will the Villains and Heroes do about that when people start to want something different? 

[animentality]

Why do people hate Tony Stark again? I don’t know the info

People side with Captain America because he’s the superhero ideal, you know, a hero who’ll do what’s right even if it’s against the law.

Young people, and older adults as well, still believe in the heart of gold vigilante who knows better than officials, who’s not corrupt, who does what he has to do to serve justice.

We’ve come away from the squeaky clean super hero image, but we still have this obsession with vigilante justice.

American super heroes were based on this…inherent distrust in the government and the bureaucracy of “justice.”

They were a response to perceived systematic inequality and the evils of the federal government. They were these larger than life figures you could become to escape realities where you have no control, where you’re nothing and nobody. Super humans who are still human, just like the rest of us, but also something much more special. 

American individualism at its height: Believe that a single person can make a difference.

A single person can be special, with the right tools, the right charisma, the right powers. 

So that’s the context of an American hero.

Individualistic. Self-centered, perhaps, but moral and good at the same time. Believes in freedom, but also the importance of law. 

Believes in hope and all the good things in the world, but also acknowledges that there are people out there who are Bad and must be dealt with. 

Forcibly, but not lethally, typically, because murder is wrong, except under extreme circumstances. 

So Civil War rolls around.

People of course love Cap. But would I say Captain America is more popular than Ironman?

No, I think Ironman, being funnier, more snarky, and having more movies (at that point) and more of a reputation was more popular (I may also point out that the first Cap movie was a bit of a slog, whereas Ironman was a really good film that began a Marvel empire built on carefully crafted and well-tailored people-pleasing comic book movies). 

Or at the very least, on equal grounds of popularity with Captain America. 

So Civil War is where people turned against Tony, because Tony wants there to be more restrictions to what super heroes can do. 

And the real life fanbase says no!

We like vigilantes! They’re good guys! We can trust them! They’re the stuff of legends, and the government that we know so well in real life? It’s evil.

So people started disliking Tony because he was raising an important point.

Which is that “heroes” have been working outside of the law.

And need to be restricted by governmental regulations. 

But Cap, of course, counters that sometimes governments and people don’t understand the nitty gritty details of being a super hero, and that sometimes you make sacrifices, sometimes you make calculated choices, and they fuck things up. 

They look “bad” to a public that wasn’t there. Who couldn’t understand someone they will most likely never meet. 

Both sides I think are valid.

But in real life? Super heroes are the most popular concept in the world right now.

People don’t WANT realism in their super hero stories.

And Ironman is kind of this representation of realism.

How in real life, they WOULDN’T see super heroes as unilaterally good.

In real life, super heroes would do bad things, not on purpose, just foolishly. 

With good intentions.

I think Tony Stark also is seen as a “bad guy” of sorts because he hates Bucky, and fans of Steve adore Bucky too much.

And I mean he has a good reason for hating Bucky…but again, that’s an ugly realistic representation of a human being. 

And people aren’t really fans of that.

Plus people…I would argue, distrust their own governments more than anything else right now. 

I mean, who the hell WOULD side with Ironman about how governments should control super hero activity when we all need a hero in these trying times, where our own governments are spying on us, manipulating us, letting our planet die?

I think that’s the main reason for Ironman hate, at least on Tumblr. 

And maybe other sites. 

Ironman turned into a more realistic super hero by opposing unrestricted super hero movement, AND not wanting to forgive Bucky. 

He became a little too human for the humans watching his movies, so the hatred of his character might be a tad masochistic. 

[amynchan]

What's a garrus?

*le gasps*

*le dies*

*le revives*

Garrus Vakarian.

He’s from the original Mass Effect trilogy.  A turian, he grew up in a militant society and was pretty much born and raised to fight for a military cause.  When Shepard, the protagonist, runs into him, he is a member of CSec (Citadel [big space hub] Security) investigating the same villain you’re chasing down.  He joins up with your eclectic team of Alliance (human military) and alien alike in order to take down a rouge SPECTRE (Special Tasks and Reconnaissance force) which turns into a race against a large force called the Reapers who are hell-bent on destroying the entire galaxy.

But a little backstory?  Turians and humans literally just got over a war with each other, and there’s a bit of bitterness on both sides.  The First Contact war lasted for near on 60 years or so three months (Thank you @garrus for that correction) and was recently-ish resolved, so now there’s peace and all, but there’s still obvious tensions between the species, so it’s really kind of baffling that he joins up in the first game.

So back to the game.

Garrus is thus acquainted with what it means to be an enforcer of the law and he’s accustomed to going through a few loopholes to get what needs to be done done.  For a turian, this is pretty strange as they’re accustomed to taking orders and firing shots where they’re directed.  Make no mistake, they probably won’t go along if they notice a lot of things amiss, but they won’t actively break rules and regulations in order to finish the task either.  Garrus is special, and the fact that he willingly joined a human team to do the right thing over keeping his safe job at CSec proves that.

Over the course of ME1, you can become friends with Garrus and learn about his way of thinking.  He’s actually not a romanceable option until the second game, but in the first he becomes a true friend (at least to me) and someone with whom to disagree with and converse with.  His loyalty mission is kinda fun, too, as you get to state your piece and he takes your words (albeit with a grain of salt, but that kinda adds to his charm).

When we move onto ME2, Shepard (you) has died and been resurrected by a shady group named Cerberus, who is in all essence a human supremecist group.  They and they alone have caught onto the Reaper threat and, as a precaution, have decided to raise Shep from the dead.

This is only important because everyone literally hates Cerberus and that doesn’t exclude Garrus.  You find him on the rouge planet of Omega, under a new name.  Archangel, he calls himself.  Unsatisfied with CSec after Shepard’s death, Garrus became a hardcore vigilante, gathering together a team of his own and hitting the omega gangs hard.  This becomes a portion of his backstory as one of his team mates led to the death of the rest.  This becomes his loyalty mission and you can’t romance Garrus until this dude is ‘taken care of’.

You can choose to let Garrus take the shot (Renegade) or convince him to spare his life (Paragon). Either way, with the ghost of his team off his back, you can awkwardly flirt with this dude who has literally been the only teammate (aside from Tali) to follow you from game 1 to game 2.  Most people do romance him because of how unwavering he is, how passionate he is about his cause, and how intensely he supports Shep.  And even if you don’t romance him, he is literally the best bro a bro could ask for.

There’s a DLC here that I actually haven’t played, but you can totally check it out all over YouTube.  X’D

And have I mentioned that Garrus is an awkward flirt?  Because he is.  Oh, spirits, is he an awkward flirt.  X’D  (That was a nod to turian culture, but moving on)

And then, ME3.

MASS.

EFFECT.

FREAKING.

THREE.

If you choose to keep Garrus as your LI, he meets you (again) with a bit of hesitance and awkwardness, which Shep immediately soothes with a kiss.  Throughout the game, which is the most intense and long-strained battle by far, he constantly reassures her, pushing her forward and helping her through by just being there.  He has his conflicting views on some things, of course (the cruel calculus of war), but he will always follow her lead.  And even if you aren’t LI with him, he is absolutely the best bro a bro could ask for, still supporting and pushing Shep forward.

But oh man is this guy a sappy romantic.  When the galaxy is a wreck and everything looks like it’s going to hell in a handbasket, he’s just got your six and everything’s okay again.  He’ll tell you that he needs you and that you need to focus on taking care of yourself even as you fight this war.  Just little reminders to not let the war take your very soul, the soul he fell in love with.  And even if you’re not in love, he’s more of a ‘take care of yourself, man.  This war will still be here when you wake up’.

Garrus is just sweet.  Or maybe that’s my perspective.  X’D

BUT WHEN THE FINAL BATTLE HAPPENS, YOU’VE GOT–NGGH!!!

Okay, so before the battle, Shep makes the rounds with all of the crew, saying goodbyes and having touching emotional scenes with each of them because they’re all friends.  But Garrus is under no delusions.  He knows they probably won’t make it alive, despite his ‘insubordination’ to order her to stay alive (I love that scene it just kills me).  And he says that the turian version of heaven is a bar.  So if they don’t make it, meet him there, because he’s buying (insert squealing fangirl here).

Then, telling him goodbye as you pretty much fling yourself into the final choice?  Just kill me.  Kill me a million times over because saying goodbye to Garrus is literally the most difficult thing ever.

I’d love to sit and chat more Garrus with you, but I do have to get ready for Judo, so I’ll just end with this.  Garrus Vakarian is quite literally the embodiement of what a good human should be.  He is stubborn, passionate, a little awkward, such a dork, and ultimately good.  He’s sometimes confusing (for me) to understand, but there’s no doubt that he’s always got his heart in the right place.  And I have, in no way, done his entire character justice here, but I implore you to play the game and know this awesome guy for yourself.

[wellesleyunderground]

Wellesley in Politics: Interview with Farahnaz Ispahani ‘85  (@fispahani)

Farahnaz Ispahani ‘85 has been a leading voice for women and religious minorities in Pakistan for over two decades, working as a journalist, member of Pakistan’s National Assembly, and most recently as a United States-based scholar. An advocate of Pakistan’s return to democracy during the military regime of Pervez Musharraf, she served as a spokesperson and international media coordinator for the Pakistan People’s Party, working alongside the late Benazir Bhutto. During her tenure in parliament (2008-2012), she was a member of the Foreign Affairs and Human Rights committees and the Women’s Parliamentary Caucus. In 2013 and 2014 she was a public policy scholar at the Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars, where she completed “Purifying the Land of the Pure: A History of Pakistan's Religious Minorities” (2016), a book on the persecution of religious minorities in Pakistan. In 2012 she was listed among Foreign Policy magazine’s Top 100 Global Thinkers, as well as Newsweek Pakistan’s Top 100 Women Who Matter.

What led you to Wellesley?

I arrived at Wellesley through family connections to the college. My grandfather, M.A.H Ispahani had spoken at Wellesley when he was Pakistan’s first Ambassador to the United States. My eldest sister attended Wellesley in the late 70s. I had never been to the United States before and I wanted to go to school in a warmer part of the country but I got in and the choice was made for me!

However, once I got to Wellesley I appreciated its unique and very special education and community and made it mine. Wellesley changed my life.

How did your childhood and family influence your work as an adult? Â Who was your biggest role model growing up?

Growing up in Pakistan in the 1970s I attended a convent school run by a teaching order of nuns from Ireland. My class was made up of girls from every religious and ethnic community of my city Karachi. We never knew who was a Christian or Shia or Sunni Muslim or a Hindu or a Parsi. The nuns ensured an atmosphere of inclusion. I started understanding that I belonged to a religious minority when my mother, siblings and I used to attend majlises or religious gatherings in the month of mourning which is called Muharram. We saw a city and country where we could commemorate this month in peace and our Sunni neighbors would acknowledge the solemnity and respect us to a point where our places of worship are surrounded by tanks and armed police or army men and we are frisked for metal objects and guns when we enter in case we are terrorist wanting to blow us up.

My career in journalism, politics and as a scholar was deeply influenced by what we as a family witnessed and experienced.

My greatest role model was my Iranian grandmother. She was an amazing woman who made Pakistan her home and founded and ran the first day care center in Karachi that enabled middle class and poor women to work and have their children in a safe environment where they were taught and fed. She also founded and ran an orphanage for unwanted children. Some were left outside in the dead of the night in a basket. In a society that rejects illegitimate children Kashana e Atfal and Naunehal took in and educated thousands of girls and still does. Some of the young women who were adopted from Kashana attended Oxford, Cambridge and the Sorbonne.

Khanumjoon, as we called her lovingly, spoke 5 languages including Farsi, Urdu, French, German and Turkish. She also attended London University and got a social science degree during WW11.

Her affection, love, guidance and time were a constant for us throughout her life.

With Pakistan being Sunni run and about 77 percent Sunni, does that lead to distrust towards them from religious minorities? Based on the number of claims of blasphemy and harsh penalties for it, is it hard to people of different religions (and within Muslims for Shi’ites and Ahmadis) to trust each other?

The founder of Pakistan, M.A. Jinnah was a Shia Muslim and he was supported in the creation of Pakistan by the head of the Ahmadi Muslim community. Unfortunately, Mr. Jinnah died a year after the birth of Pakistan. The downward descent of what I call ‘communal majoritarianism’ kicked in immediately and anti-Shia and anti-Ahmadi movements gained strength. Today, we see sectarian terrorist groups that kill those of Muslim minority and Christian and Hindu minority faiths and blow up their places of worship. The leaders of these groups are known to the authorities but remain free to address open public rallies and travel. The Blasphemy Law in Pakistan is considered the toughest in the world and carries a death penalty if convicted. Once this law was passed it gave the general public of Pakistan a sort of license to judge and convict anyone they feel has blasphemed.

You said in a paper in 2013 for the Hudson Institute that Ahmadis make up only 0.22 percent of the population of Pakistan. How much of a change is that since the Partition? I saw an article recently in Dawn that another Ahmadi Muslim was killed. Do you think they’ll ever be safe in Pakistan?

Members of Ahmadi sect forbidden to call themselves Muslim. Ahmadis are some of the most common defendants in criminal charges of blasphemy, which in Pakistan can carry the death penalty. By law they cannot call their place of worship mosques or distribute religious literature, recite the Koran or use traditional Islamic greetings, measures that they say criminalize their daily lives.

The legal restrictions began in 1974, when the then-Prime Minister Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto passed a constitutional amendment declaring Ahmadis non-Muslim. A decade later military dictator General Zia ul Haq barred Ahmadis from identifying themselves as Muslim.

The exact percentage is hard to calculate as though many Ahmadis have fled the country and gained asylum in the US, Canada, UK and Australia the constant increase of the Pakistani population which is not easily attainable as many Ahmadis have to hide their faith to be able to work and ensure the safety of their families.

I do not think they will be safe in Pakistan in my lifetime. In the month of November alone, nuclear armed Pakistan’s capital city, Islamabad has been taken hostage by thousands of religious extremists demanding further restrictions on the county’s Ahmadi Muslims & praising convicted criminals like Mumtaz Qadri, the murderer of our former governor, Punjab province, Salmaan Taseer.

Also, The National Assembly (Parliament) has passed the new Elections (Amendment) Bill 2017 challenging the voter registration of anyone accused of being an Ahmadi.

The bill relates to the fresh delimitation of constituencies keeping in view the provisional results of the recently conducted census with respect to the upcoming general elections in 2018.

Speaking on the new law ‘Elections Amendment Bill 2017′ Senate Deputy Chairman Abdul Ghafoor Haideri, who belongs to the Islamist Jamiat Ulema-e-Islam-F, said that the Ahmadis’ status is the same as it was back in the 1973 Constitution. Reinforcing the Ahmadis vulnerable position and demonstrating that the parliament and government consider them non-Muslims.

Can Pakistan ever be a place where all feel safe and welcome regardless of religion?

In my lifetime only former military dictator General Pervez Musharraf had the power during his ten year rule to change the laws and ensure prosecution of those who attacked minority groups. And, to disband sectarian terrorist organizations. But he did not. I am not hopeful in the rational sense but one has to keep hope alive to ensure change one day.

Can social media be freely used or is it regulated as part of the blasphemy laws?

It is regulated to some extent. People have been arrested for blasphemy because of blasphemy allegations of online comments and killed as university student Mashal Khan was. But, like others, his family has not received justice. Journalists and bloggers speaking freely on social media have disappeared, been tortured and fled the country.

Especially after writing Purifying the Land of the Pure can you safely return to Pakistan? If not what would have to change for that to be possible?

I have gone back on a handful of occasions - but in a very low key manner and with a full understanding of the risks. Anyone who has written and spoken as much about the issues I do can never be safe in Pakistan. Vigilante justice continues unimpeded.

Do you think it’s possible to have a country based on a religion that’s welcoming to those who don’t follow that religion?

No. There has to be a separation of church and state and all citizens must be considered equal under the constitution. Religion or ethnicity cannot be a part of any modern and civilized nation.

Your work has largely focused on bringing Pakistan back to democracy. How do you hold onto hope for a country with such a history of violence?

Hope does spring eternal. However, as Pakistan is a relatively young country one can only work for a better tomorrow. But, I know how ugly the lives of those of minority community faiths are. That spurs me on. The country belongs to every single Pakistani and they deserve that.

I can’t even imagine getting to work with Benazir Bhutto as you did both when she was in exile and when she returned to Pakistan in September 2007. What is your favorite story about her?

Benazir Bhutto, was human and had faults but what a great leader she was. I still miss her every day. She had political intelligence, knowledge of her country and the world and a deep compassion and empathy for women, the disadvantaged and the persecuted. She was hated by the religious right wing forces.

My favorite story about Bibi as any of us referred to her was the day after her arrival. Estimates say that 1 million supporters gathered to welcome her arrival. As her caravan slowly inched through Karachi terrorists set off two bombs to kill her. Many died but she managed to survive.

The following day Benazir Bhutto held a press conference in her small garden at her Karachi home. It was packed with PPP party officials and reporters. Benazir arrived in a old pair of glasses from her bedside drawer as the ones she had on were shattered in the blast. The audio didn't work. Bibi picked up a hand mike and without missing a stride spoke so clearly and with an unshaken sense of mission.

She answered every question although she was mourning those who had lost their lives and been up all night talking to her family and party people.

That was Benazir. Brilliant and unbowed. And, kind..Finding a bond with every woman she met. Rich or poor, educated or not. Privately her humor, and love of chocolate and ice cream, and escaping to a movie or a having a cozy chat for a brief respite from her lifetime of heavy responsibility. I always thought of her as the perfect Wellesley woman though she went to Radcliffe!

Farahnaz’s blog is https://farahnazispahani.com/ and her writings can also be found in various news outlets.

Photo by Elliott O’Donovan Photography

[strivingscribe]

Salt of the Earth ~ Ch 009

Salt of the Earth by MsMoon

Chapter 9 ~ The Elephant & Ram in the Room

Chapters: 9/?

Chapter Navigation: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9,

Fandom: Young Justice

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Angst, Feelings? Violence?

Relationships: Nope.

Summary: After responding to an incident, members of the team are saved by an unknown metahuman. But no protocols are in place to deal with the series of unfortunate events that assail Anitia Moore. What exactly should the team do when a someone with powers needs training but doesn’t want to be a member of the team?

Author’s Notes: Happy New Year!

It was a Monday...which meant the house was pretty clean. Certain maintenance chores were done every day, but the weekends were when big-ticket items were taken care of. Anita clung to this every time she remembered that strangers in masks were in her home.

They were downstairs. The Vigilantes.

...on a gorram Monday.

It was still early, and though Mom had been informed of something happening.. Anita suspected that she hadn’t been informed of everything that had happened. She couldn’t imagine Mom not dropping everything and racing home if she knew what went down.

Anita took a fortifying breath. This was her home. She would not cower up in her bedroom, fretting about things like laundry in the boys’ rooms. She reached out and carefully took the carvings of the little purple elephant and the tiny green ram. Her fingers ran over the stones and her shoulder blades relaxed just a touch.

She closed her eyes, took another deep breath, listening to her own sounds as she tried to ground herself. She put the ram in her right pocket and the elephant in her left, shimmying her shoulders in an effort to loosen up. Then she opened the door, and descended downstairs.

She didn’t make eye contact as she went into the kitchen, but she was still aware of them. Periphery vision was a thing, after all.

She counted four of them, plus Superboy. ...fantastic.

She really wanted to stay as close to normal as she could, but she wasn’t sure how to do that other than ignoring them.

She opened the fridge, trying to keep as close to routine as possible…. that meant thinking about a meal of some sort. They had left-over spaghetti...but Travis could be so finicky about leftovers.

“Anita?”

She started, jumping away from the cover the fridge door provided and into the corner cabinet. When the fridge door closed, a very repentant Nightwing was standing there with both hands up.

“Sorry.” he said, his voice smooth.

“I uh…” Anita shook her head. “I didn’t hear you.”

“You were pretty focused.” he allowed, an easy smile on his face. “Plus, I’m fairly well trained in sneaking up on people.”

Now that she wasn’t intent on ignoring them, her eyes pinged to Robin standing just behind him. Great… Gotham Sleuths were in her house. She ground her back teeth together, her throat flexing before she asked, “Does anyone want coffee?”

“Yes.” Robin said, causing Artemis to scoff at him. “What?”

“You drink too much coffee as it is.” she muttered. “It’s already screwed up your sleep schedule, and it’ll stunt your growth.”

Anita didn’t bother examining this interaction too much as she was already focusing on making coffee. A full pot. She wasn’t sure why, but she wanted some for herself… probably just for something to stir and stare at. Also, it tasted pretty good.

...of course, now that everything was set in motion, they were just waiting for the coffee to filter through. She took a deep breath. “I don’t… I don’t really know if there’s a procedure, or…” she shrugged.

“I don’t think there are regulations for this situation.” Nightwing allowed. It was then that Anita met his eyes… or his mask. Whatever. She allowed herself to look at them, and she counted Nightwing, Robin, Superboy, Artemis, and Miss Martian in her kitchen.

Almost on instinct, her hand slipped into her pocket, and she brought out the little green ram.

“What’s that?” Superboy asked.

She shook her head. “Just Amun.”

“But...what stone is that?”

“Huh?” she looked up and realized that it was Robin who had asked. “Oh. Serpentine.” she reached into her other pocket and pulled out the purple elephant. “This one’s Ganesha. He’s made of Amethyst.”

“What are they for?”

She blinked, regarding him with slow apathy. “...they make me feel better.” perhaps more spite leaked into her tone than she’d intended.

“How?”

“I don’t know.” Anita snapped. “I hold them, and I feel better.” Anita felt irritation gnaw at her neck, her shoulder hunching up slightly. Coping mechanisms were coping mechanisms, and she hated that he was pointing out that she needed them in order to… well… Cope!

“I think Robin’s just curious as to your process. Specifically which stones do what.” Miss Martian confided.

Oh. Right.

“I ...I mean, I get that. Don’t get me wrong, I’m curious too.” she shrugged. “But I’m a little on edge right now, and I don’t have a lot of answers anyway.” Admitting that took a bit of the wind out of her. Or fire… whichever.

“You… you don’t know?” it sounded so accusatory, even the team was staring at Robin with that ‘you know what you’ve done’ expression.

Anita took another deep breath. “Those bugs of yours, are they working now?”

“They should be.”

“Should be?” Anita’s tone matched his from earlier.

“They are.” Robin said, voice more firm now. “If our comms are working, then the listening devices are as well.”

“Good.” Anita grunted. “Listen, about this...this Luthor thing?” they all seemed to stand up a touch straighter. “I think I should get this out as soon as I can.”

“I could scan your memories and set up a mental link so that we could see the memories directly.” Miss Martian offered.

Anita stared at her. “I…..ok, so. It’s nothing personal, or anything,” Anita held out a placating hand that was also a motion for every part of that idea to stop. “but I’d rather chew aluminum than do that. If it’s all the same to you.”

“Oh.��� Miss Martian looked away, shrinking from the foreground of the conversation. Was that why she was here? To do...mental things?

“Does aluminum do something for you too?” Superboy asked with a smirk.

Anita regarded him with confusion before she grinned. “... I mean, yeah.”

“It does?” Artemis chuckled, surprised.

“Yes, assholes.” Anita laughed. “It does. A lot of things do.”

“What does Aluminum do?” Robin asked.

Anita shook her head. “I mean, it’s not super useful...and it’s not like I can get anything from the minuta of tin foil or anything, but… aluminum brings a sort of...kind of… like a metal sense, I guess?” she struggled to name it as it wasn’t something she really gave much thought to. “I can tell what metals are around me.” she shook her head. “It’s not super useful or anything.”

“But still cool.” Artemis announced.

“True.” Nightwing murmured. “And you are correct. We should record your account of the events that occurred with Luthor as soon as possible.”

Those words brought such somberness back into the kitchen.

Anita nodded. “I’d seen him earlier today at school.” she said. “He made a few vague threats towards my family before one of the teachers intervened.” she swallowed, remembering how Superboy came into her walk home like a wrecking ball. They probably knew that much, though. Maybe they even knew that he’d been at her school. It was hard to tell what was viable.

“Do you recall what he said?” Nightwing asked.

“Uh, he was offering me—well, Lexcorp was going to offer—but, I mean, he was there to discuss scholarship options.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “It got really weird when he managed to convince Mr. Davis to leave his own office so that he could talk to me.” she let out a long breath that she’d been breathing at an accelerated pace. “He said something about my family, saying that I couldn't rely on them forever and my mother wouldn’t be able to support me, and… that I’d want to keep them safe.” she didn’t miss the looks they exchanged, though she couldn’t decipher what they meant. “That’s when we were interrupted. I don’t think I’ve ever really sat and talked with Ms. McGuire, but I could’ve hugged her.”

“Who is she?”

“The school’s guidance counselor.” Anita said with a grin. “She just barged in there and told Luthor it was inappropriate to meet privately with a ‘female student’, and it was the school’s responsibility to guard even the ‘perceived safety’ of their students.”

Artemis’s hands settled on her hips as she leaned back slightly. “I think I like this teacher.”

“Um. When I got home, he was just here.” she jutted her chin out to the doorway between the kitchen and living room. “Strolled on over like he’d been waiting for me. I told him to say what he was going to say, because it was obvious he wasn’t going to just go away.”

Anita set Ganesha down on the counter, holding him upright and placing a single finger on the carving’s back. “He said he’d knocked communications out. I played to his ego, tried to stall.  It didn’t make sense, it still doesn't.” she tried to focus on specifics without being too comprehensive.

They didn’t need to know how he held himself, or more importantly how she felt in response to his presence.

“He said an associate of his was interested in me, and he was doing damage control. Seeing if he needed to get involved.” her eyes darted back and forth rapidly.

“What is it?”

“I don’t….No. He didn’t.” she blinked. “He never used a pronoun when he referred to his associate.”  she squinted. “I don’t know if it’s because this associate wanted anonymity, or if he just wanted to dick around.”

“Was that it?”

Her eyes darted to Superboy and away again. “Nothing of note. He just wanted to...I don’t know.. See what was so special about me and…”

“What?” Superboy’s query made her lose her train of thought.

“He said… ‘especially after yesterday’. I asked if he knew the man in the masks, and he said at first ‘he’s with me’ and then later that he knew him or was aware of him via associates.” Anita blinked. “I mean, Luthor’s a big fish, so the likelihood of ‘the associate’ that’s interested in me being the same one who knows the man in the masks is… probably low.”

“What exactly did Luthor say?” Nightwing asked.

“I asked if the asshole in the masks was with him, and he said yes, and then he elaborated that he was aware of him through, but he started looking for a word and I suggested the term ‘associates’ and he agreed that he knew him via associates.”

Anita stared at them as they all looked between each other. Of course, what she didn't know is that Miss Martian was facilitating a mental conversation between them, one that she was not privy to.

“Uh.” she cleared her throat, looking at Superboy. “You said someone was going to be… uh, telling my mom what was going on.”

Of course, that wasn’t true. Superboy hadn’t told her anything, she’d overheard Robin say it over the comms to Superboy. She also heard that it was Kid Flash who was doing this...which meant, it should’ve been done quickly.

“I said that.” Robin corrected, and a part of her felt relieved. Not that he was correcting her, but that he was willing to be truthful about the situation. “Kid Flash went to explain the situation to your mother, but Superman was already there talking with her.”

“Huh…” Anita murmured, somewhat amused by Superboy’s shift.

He scratched his nose trying to hide his smirk. ‘Like father, like son’ was the first thing that came to Anita’s mind.

“Is something the matter?”

“Uh… Well. I mean, that was… at least, it feels like that was a while ago, and I guess I expected something in the way of response… Considering it was Kid Flash that was getting it done… I guess I thought it’d be a quick response.”

That got quite a few grins.

“Not for lack of trying.” Miss Martian muttered. “Unfortunately, Superman has him pinned there.” she said. “The adults are talking, but they want him to run messages when they finally make a decision.”

Anita’s expression slid into neutral as she absorbed this. She wasn’t sure why, but she had expected something else. This was… anticlimactic?

“Hm.” was all she said in response. Did she even need to fix dinner, or was this just another waste of energy? It didn’t matter what she decided to do if the adults were the ones making the decisions.

“Hey, are you ok?” Artemis’s question snapped her attention back into the here and now.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” she said with a shrug. She took a deep breath. “I think I’m...just gonna watch Netflix or something.” she murmured, pouring out some coffee for herself. “Help yourselves to coffee.” she said, leaving the cabinet that held the coffee mugs open. The cream and sugar were in there too, so it wasn’t like they’d need further direction.