Aeolus: DONT. Open This Bag. Keep Your Friends Close And Your ENEMIES (!!) Closer.

nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early  astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.  nasa employee: what?  astronaut: *loading a pistol and getting back on the rocket-ship* moon’s stuck in a time loop.

nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early  astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.  nasa employee: what?  astronaut: *loading a pistol* moon’s stuck in a time loop. do you have extra ammo? this won’t be enough. nasa employee: enough for…what? astronaut: *finding extra clip of ammo, pocketing it, and getting back on the rocket-ship* don’t worry about it!

nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early  astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop. nasa employee: what?  astronaut: *emerging from supply closet with a space harpoon, getting back on the rocket-ship* moon’s stuck in a time loop.

nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early  astronaut:   oh hey u guys are back early astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.  nasa employee: what?  astronaut: what?  nasa employee: how did you know what i was going to say?  astronaut: *punching in key pad code for base evacuation signal, getting back on the rocket-ship* i told you…moon’s stuck in a time loop. *red warning lights begin flashing*

nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early  astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.  nasa employee: what?  astronaut: *rifling thru bookshelf of operating instructions, selecting one that says “AIRLOCK MANUAL OVERRIDE INSTRUCTIONS,” getting back on the rocket-ship* moon’s stuck in a time loop.

nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early  astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.  nasa employee: what?  astronaut: moon’s stuck in a time loop. hey, do you have anything to eat? i’m starving. *opens random drawer, finds nothing, closes it* nasa employee: a time loo- uh, we don’t have food in here…we can’t…eat in the control room, only the break-room. astronaut: *sighs* nasa employee:…my lunch is in like 10 minutes, though, and if my lunch is actually STILL THERE and not STOLEN, AGAIN, i can share it with yo- astronaut: nah, that’s ok…no time. *loading a pistol and getting back on the rocket-ship* or…too much time. but thanks, anyway. OK, bye! *alarm begins blaring* nasa employee: you’re…welcome? wait, a TIME LOOP?!

nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early  astronaut: yup. nasa employee: …?  astronaut: *sitting down next to nasa employee* so…do you ever like…wonder what the meaning of life is? the secrets of the universe? nasa employee: aren’t you supposed to be ON the MOON?! *alarm begins blaring* nasa employee: hey, what the hell is that? astronaut: that’s the code red override klaxon. moon’s stuck in a time loop. oh, and there’s an explosion imminent. But don’t worry, we can deal with that tomorrow. So, you have any siblings? *pulls beer out of space suit, cracks tab* want a drink?

nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early  astronaut: do you know frank in IT? nasa employee: what?  astronaut: do you know frank, who works in IT?  nasa employee: yeah, but why are you guys back so early?  astronaut: moon’s stuck in a time loop. call frank, tell him there’s a virus in the security patch and the system’s compromised. then get the hell out of the base.  nasa employee: wait what? what? where are you guys going?  astronaut: *loading a pistol and getting back on the rocket-ship* back to the moon. it’s stuck in a time loop. call frank!  nasa employee: *picks up phone* ugh, straight to voicemail. i wonder wha- *alarm begins blaring*

nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early  astronaut: *grim silence* nasa employee: i said, you guys are back early…hey, what are you…?  astronaut: *randomly opening drawers until they find a pair of scissors and some duct tape, getting back on the rocket-ship* moon’s stuck in a time loop.

nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early  astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.  nasa employee: what?  astronaut: *loading a pistol and getting back on the rocket-ship* moon’s stuck in a time loop. *sticks head back out the door of the rocket-ship* by the way, if you go to the break-room in exactly 2 minutes and 45 seconds, you’ll catch the person who’s been stealing your lunches for the past two weeks. nasa employee: what?! WHO IS IT?! *alarm begins blaring* nasa employee: *running for the break-room* FUCK!!!!

nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early  astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.  nasa employee: what?  astronaut: *sits down, sighs, pulls a beer out from their spacesuit* moon’s stuck in a time loop. nasa employee: …ok, and? hang on, how did you get a beer? you can’t have that in here. astronaut: what do you know about project floyd? nasa employee: I mean, the usual amount? i’m not really on the project anymore, why?  *alarm begins blaring*  astronaut: COME WITH ME TO THE ROCKET-SHIP, we don’t have ti-

nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early  astronaut: yeah. moon's stuck in a time loop.  nasa employee: what?  astronaut: *loading a pistol and getting back on the rocket-ship* moon’s stuck in a time loop. see you tomorrow. maybe. nasa employee: WHAT?!

nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early  astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.  nasa employee: what?  astronaut: *sighs, rubs hands over face, and loads pistol, before getting back on the rocket-ship* moon’s stuck in a time loop. and, uh…you should call your mother like you’ve been meaning to. and tell her you’re not actually mad and that you will come to dinner tonight. you’re gonna be hungry. nasa employee: wait, what? WHAT?? how do you know my mom?! why am i gonna be - *alarm begins blaring* 

nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early  astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.  nasa employee: what? astronaut: *grabbing two pistols, an extra box of ammo, a pair of scissors, some duct tape, a space harpoon, and a booklet of operating instructions that says “AIRLOCK MANUAL OVERRIDE INSTRUCTIONS,” starting to get back on the rocket-ship, but dropping everything with a horrendous clatter* FUCK! goddamn moon’s stuck in a time loop. *alarm begins blaring*

nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early  astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.  nasa employee: what? also, hey, where’d you get that duffel bag? astronaut: *grabbing two pistols, an extra box of ammo, a pair of scissors, some duct tape, a space harpoon, and a booklet of operating instructions that says “AIRLOCK MANUAL OVERRIDE INSTRUCTIONS,” shoving them into the bag, and getting back on the rocket-ship* moon’s stuck in a time loop.

nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back earl-  astronaut: *grabs nasa employee and kisses them passionately*  nasa employee: what? WHAT?! astronaut: *loading a single pistol and getting back on the rocket-ship* moon’s stuck in a time loop, sweetheart.  nasa employee: what?!? astronaut: a time loop!!! i love you!!! get out of the base!!! stay alive!!! nasa employee: *presses fingers to lips, confused but intrigued, as alarm begins blaring* 

nasa employee:…. nasa employee:… nasa employee: ho hum what a regular day at the office *alarm begins blaring* nasa employee: what the hell is that?!

nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back earl-  astronaut: *grabs nasa employee and kisses them passionately*  nasa employee: what? what?! WHAT!?!? also, hey, where’d you get that duffel bag? astronaut: *grabbing two pistols, an extra box of ammo, a pair of scissors, some duct tape, a space harpoon, and a booklet of operating instructions that says “AIRLOCK MANUAL OVERRIDE INSTRUCTIONS,” shoving them into the bag, then cupping nasa employee’s cheek with free hand* moon’s stuck in a time loop. nasa employee: the moon’s stuck in a what?! astronaut: a time loop, sweetheart, but we don’t have much time ourselves, so you have to listen to me RIGHT now nasa employee: *faintly* …“sweetheart”?! astronaut: in 2 minutes and a few seconds, you need to go into the break-room and find frank. nasa employee: wait, frank from IT? astronaut: yes. nasa employee: how do you know he’s gonna be in the break-room? i can’t just call him at his desk right now? astronaut: how do i know this?! because, one, time loop, ok? and…also…because…heismaybetheguywhohasbeenstealingyourlunchfortwoweeks nasa employee: that BASTARD i KNEW it astronaut: BUT THAT’S NOT WHAT’S IMPORTANT RIGHT NOW. hey! listen to me! go in there, catch him red-handed with your burrito, and tell him lunch is on you FOREVER if he goes RIGHT NOW and checks the last security patch - because there’s a virus and the whole system’s compromised. then you need to get the hell out of this base, ok? nasa employee: …ok. ok. and…and what about you? astronaut: *cocking pistol and getting back into rocket-ship with duffel bag* me? i’m gonna shoot for the moon.

EPILOGUE:

nasa employee: so, how many loops in total? astronaut: i mean, it was hard to keep track. somewhere around six months, if i had to guess. nasa employee: damn. astronaut: yeah. nasa employee: and in those six MONTHS, the best zinger you came up with was “shoot for the moon”? astronaut: hey, you know what, i had some other stuff on my mind! nasa employee: i mean, i guess. it sounded like you found time to flirt with me each time. astronaut: yeah, like i said. other stuff on my mind. *they look at each other, blush, and look away* astronaut: sooooooo. you’re sure your mom is cool with me coming over for dinner? nasa employee: can’t make the day any weirder. plus, i owe you for ratting out frank, right? astronaut: he did help us save the world; we can’t be too mad at him. nasa employee: you’ve had a little while to get over it, i might need some more time. and it wasn’t even your food! astronaut: ok, that’s fair. what if i buy you lunch to make up for it? nasa employee: hmm, when? astronaut: tomorrow? nasa employee: well, i’ll have left overs from my mom, and you might too if you play your cards right. day after tomorrow? astronaut: honestly, anytime is good for me.

*FADE TO BLACK*

It’s a nice day. That’s what Alex focuses on, and it’s something to hold onto.

It’s a nice day. Blue skies, no clouds, the sun high in the sky—but with a bit of a breeze, so that it’s not too hot.

It’s a nice day. Which is why it really is a shame that his day is ruined already. It’s 11AM—hasn’t even reached noon—and this is turning out to be a shitshow.

“Fire now! It will not be able to reform as quickly as the other!” Someone shouts in his comm. Agent W, probably. She was always one to see the little inconsistencies. To see how quickly one could heal in comparison to another.

He shoots. He does not miss. It falls from the sky, with its clear sky and cloudless expanse, and lays crumpled on the ground.

He does not approach. That will be someone else’s job; his is to aim, to shoot, and to not miss.

He never does.

A marksman is what he is, no dressing it up. He might wear the white clothes, have the same honorific, but at the end of the day, he is paid to shoot.

He looks at it with curiosity. Even from this far away, he can see the little twitches it makes, as though it’s being electrocuted in small, sharp increments. Death twitches, he’s heard them call.

He smirks to himself at the name; what an ironic phrase, to be a dead thing and to relive your final moments.

He cannot deny that he is curious about it; but really who wouldn’t be?

What a curious thing in that it was a monster masquerading as human. Acting like a human, moving as a human.

He turns away as someone starts to inch closer to it. There’s no need to listen to the pleading, not when it’s mimicry meant to lure.

It’s a nice day. A beautiful day, even. He should take Julia to the park—she’d be turning 8 soon, and he didn’t know when he might have to leave for a mission.

He turns away from the pleading-turned-screaming, and hums under his breath as he checks his rifle.

What a beautiful day.

Gods, it’d be impossible to properly pull off like how I’m picturing, but imagine a story entirely from the perspective of a GIW agent.

Like, put aside all your existing knowledge of what ghosts are really like and imagine entering the story with only their knowledge. As far as you are aware, the main character is correct about their beliefs. You have no reason to doubt them (yet).

You are part of a government branch tasked with fighting monsters. Every single one of them is immune to conventional weaponry and can have a wide array of superpowers.

And they’re intelligent, too. Not like how a person is intelligent though; they’re not sentient. Sure, they can mimic it, but it’s all an illusion. Under the surface, they’re still just mindless monsters. You can’t reason with them.

Oh and also, they could be anywhere. They can theoretically spring up from any time anyone dies, or can emerge from entirely unpredictable natural portals.

And regardless of if any actual ghosts are present, the very material that makes them up can contaminate humans too. Not just making them sick, that’d be one thing, but making them monstrous in similar ways. Even if you’ve gotten rid of the ghosts, the entire town might be too far gone already.

And then, of course, the actual plot progresses. The character actually interacts with the world, and all the little inconsistencies start to add up. Maybe the character eventually notices, or maybe it’s left as fridge horror as only the reader can realize the truth of the protagonist’s ongoing evil actions.

Though of course that concept does rely on the idea that the reader doesn’t know the truth going in, which is impossible for a fanfic since readers would already be familiar with canon. So in reality, it’d have to be dramatic irony instead of a creeping realization (which could still work but feels a bit less evocative IMO). Or maybe calling it an AU would work to distract people enough, but idk.

Ahahaha

Writing Prompt #12

Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.

Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.

Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.

While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.

These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".

There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—

"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.

But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.

He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.

"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.

"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.

"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.

He doesn't look away from the man.

"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."

"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.

The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.

The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"

Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."

"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."

He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.

"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.

"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.

"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."

"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.

"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."

"Him."

"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."

"Why me?"

"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."

This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.

"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"

"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."

Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."

"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."

"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."

"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."

"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."

"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.

"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.

"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."

"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."

"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."

Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.

Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.

"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."

The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.

"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.

"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."

"I have more than one."

"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."

"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"

There is a pause.

"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."

"Resolve what?"

"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."

"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."

Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."

The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."

"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."

"They will have already muzzled him."

Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.

"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."

"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—

Clack!

"sluuuuurp!"

"Master Timothy, honestly!"

"Sorry Alfred!"

Am currently obsessed with the idea of annabeth returning to Gotham and becoming a crime boss allied with red hood/like an adviser of sorts to him partly because if she’s the princess of Gotham, she’s running it her way, and partly as revenge against bruce, because if a 7 year old he neglected could kill to survive, he could kill to avenge his son. She’s very strong on the no messing with kids rule for obvious reasons, and she doesn’t see robin as an exception to that because she is not plagued by pit rage. She has a very confusing (to them) relationship to the bats cuz she openly hates Batman, and will taunt him by putting robin in supposed danger, but never actually hurts him and anyone who does hurt him is made to see the error of their ways through somewhat violent means.

She acts mainly as damage control to Jason when it comes to Tim, because he’s her big brother and she’s trying to subtly break the influence of the pit over time. She either stops Jason before titans tower when she learns what he’s planning or goes to confront him there. Then, later, when Damian joins the family, she taunts Bruce about his dead daughter, using details no one else should know, and dramatically reveals herself. (Sadly, I am the only person who can write it the way i want it to be written, and will not ever write it)

Annabeth getting a call from Talia (incredibly alarming to her btw) and seeing Jason doing his vengeance shtick: Maybe I should go back to Gotham and check that he’s okay.

Grover who’s about to set out on his Percy Supervision Mission in Yancy Academy: Please for the love of all the gods be good.

Luke would be fine with letting her go since while he’s a bit weird about her it’s still a sibling-like bond and the idea of 12-year old Annabeth with beefed up Jason standing in front of the world’s worst criminals brings me joy.

Annabeth, walking into Jason’s apartment after six minutes of making sure his neurosis were the same: Damn bitch you live like this? After all my architecture rants too??

Jason: Are you a fucking ghost?

Annabeth: Are you?

Annabeth is very clear about being Annabeth and doing her whole leaving the Wayne name behind forever to Jason who kind of struggles to wrap his head around cute and shy Anna being this terrifyingly smart monstrosity. She makes his plans even more sick and twisted, plays around with the ambiance and the clues and makes sure that it can only be traced back to the Red Hood and not Jason Todd. Which means she tortured Dick psychologically at several points in the middle of other villain fights to see which reactions she can use against Bruce more subtly so that’s fun.

Dick, on his third mental breakdown of the month about Anna: I miss her so much I wish we tried harder to find her!

Annabeth, writing it down from where she’s hiding: Making the cases be increasingly similar to what happened to me has produced results. Find a demigod and recreate case with Bruce to torment his further.

Tim was originally barely a factor to Annabeth because she doesn’t really care for him unlike Jason and Jason’s plans on what to do with him seemed sane enough but after he mentioned that he wanted to get into Titan’s Tower Annabeth arranged for something on the Drake’s end to pull Tim away for a while and convinced Jason to focus on the Joker plan again. Annabeth is extremely against involving anyone who isn’t Bruce, Joker, Alfred and Dick in her plans and only occasionally considers adding Barbara. So when Jason shows clear interest in hurting Tim as a way to get back at Bruce she moves up her whole timeline and has ten different plans running to keep Tim out of the country at first then away from where Jason would be by orchestrating a few YJ fights until Jason tells her to fight Tim herself since he can’t get there in time.

Annabeth: Fight him? By myself?

Jason: Yeah, I believe in you *cuts the call*

Annabeth:…Fuck it, I’ll do a Riddler impression and hope for the best

said impression is completely terrifying and taken out of a saw movie basically and Tim is now wary of ever approaching a truck (which was actually a monster) since it. somehow threw him into a building and shattered three of his ribs. Annabeth continues running interference like this as she tries to keep Jason on task with ‘make Bruce kill the Joker’ scheme.

Eventually she’s called back to Camp after Percy shows up and Annabeth decides she needs someone to keep an eye on Jason and the whole plan thing so she sends Julieta, her godly half-sister, to keep him on track.

Julieta infiltrating Gotham Academy during the last three weeks of classes: This is so stupid.

Jason: I don’t care, tell me his habits and schedule.

Julieta: Do you get off talking to me like that?

Jason:…I’m sorry.

Basically all of TLT happens and Annabeth returns to Gotham immediately after the summer solstice which enrages Luke who speeds up his plans a bit and Percy is saved by the naiads and Annabeth is now double heartbroken and back in a city that encourages her to fester in her rage.

She lets Jason loose on Bruce and the Joker as she kidnapped Tim and uses him to torture Dick and Babs as she uses references to all of Jason’s career as Robin to guide them while taunting that she knows who they are and making another Saw trap. Meanwhile Tim has been given a slice of ambrosia and feels like he’s dying, he’s not but his godly heritage is diluted by four generations so it’s real bad pain.

Annabeth: It’s this or processing my emotions, Timothy, and I’m a Wayne, so down the hatch!

Tim, writhing in agony and shaking as Ares pretends not to notice him for six hours before helping him: Am I on drugs?

Things go down, Jason reveals himself, Bruce in a fit of desperation tries to cut his throat open but Julieta who helped in said Joker kidnapping stabs him thought the arm and Joker who was wisely knocked out by Julieta’s during the jokernapping is rescued by his henchmen while Jason has a mental breakdown and Bruce is dumped in the Batmobile by a truly done Julieta

And that’s all I can think of right now.

Thank you for telling of your idea, it’s actually a lot of fun, and since I was thinking about making a fic dedicated to 13 What-If scenarios in the Annabeth is a Wayne Universe this is definitely going on the list of you want it too.

I have this idea for a post but I feel like you would do it justice.

Basically, Danny is yeeted through a dimensional portal and reincarnated as the clone son of Tim and Connor(from when Tim cloned Connor during his death). This little shit wakes up after that, when Connor has already been found, as a six year old gremlin with a need for chaos.

Que pranks!

I don’t have much more than that so I will leave this in your capable hands.

-🎃

"Master Bruce, if I have to remind you to fix your tie one more time, Gotham will be without its protecter for many months to come!" Alfred snapped - actually snapped - from where he was attempting to reorganize the entirey of the Emberald Sitting room.

Right now, he moved all the furniture and all the wall directions. He was just adding some tastefully done flower pots to make the place look inviting but also regal.

It had been six hours, and from the looks of it, Alfred had not found the balance he desperately wanted. He started over four times. His patience was all but gone.

Bruce's hands snap to his tie, scrambling to get it set just right. He moves it only slightly to the left - not making much difference - with a nervous smile. Alfred's teeth snap shut with a click, and his eyes blaze with frustrated rage as he rounds the coffee table toward the billionaire.

Bruce looks to be holding back a scream.

Dick winces, sinking into his chair lest the aged Butler turns his ire onto him. He knows why this evening has to be just right. Especially to Alfred, but gosh, he could not handle how terrifying the butler could be.

It's just for one dinner and one evening. Dick tells himself. Once Alfred can finally say he married one of us off, things will return to normal.

"Honestly! If you didn't walk around looking like an unkeept vagabond all the time, maybe there would be a Lady of the House by now!" Alfred sneered at a pale-looking Bruce.

Or maybe Timmy bringing Kon over to announce their engagement means Alfred will try to marry the rest of us off harder. Dick despairs as Bruce endures another tongue-lashing. He wants to go help, but if he moves even an inch from his seat, Alfred might realize Dick is still in the room.

He can't afford to anger the beast any further.

"And you, Master Dick!" Alfred suddenly rounds on Dick, pointing one long finger into his face, with narrowed eyes and the grim reaper at his shoulder. Oh, dear.

Thankfully, that's when the doorbell rings. At once, Alfred's face clears into an excited smile. "They're here! I'll let them in right away; you lads, gather the rest of the family. And remember, we must make a great impression! Tonight is the night we invite Mister Kon into the family!"

The butler doesn't quite skip out of the room, but the bristle walking with a chipper head turning is the close that Dick has ever seen him do.

"I'm so happy for Tim." Bruce mutters,"but I can not handle any more reminders that I haven't had a spouse."

"Tell me about it," Dick sighs, following after his father into the hallway and down to the dining hall. He can distantly hear Alfred opening the door and greeting the two. "A hour ago, he made seven passive agressive reminders that Tamaraneans propse with a dinner and a mock battle. Seven. I mean, how does he even know what Tamaraneans do when courting?"

"It's Alfred." Bruce tells him, taking a seat at the head of the table. Dick sits in the chair to his right as the oldest and First Heir- considering the reply. It makes sense.

Damian, Cass, and Duke walk in, not even a moment later. All are dressed better than any gala Bruce could have dragged them off, too. He is rather impressed that Damian is a red suit that makes even Bruce pale in comparison. Then again, he is the only one besides Alfred who has an eye for such things.

"Has he already proposed, or is he doing it at dinner table and were all supposed to act supirse?" Duke asks while sitting down. "I want to know what kind of face I should have prepared"

"The clone has asked Father for his blessing in his courtship with Timothy. He knew we would have figured out his plans when that blunder. It is no surprise." Damian huffs. Dick knows he's just upset that his big brother is going to get married and move out soon. He's adorable when he's territorial.

"I can confirm that Kon hasn't asked yet." Steph announces, strutting into the room in all her purple gown glory. Behind her, the Row sbilings wander in with matching celtic blue suits, making Dick grin. It's always nice to see people appreciate the best color. "Tim isn't the type of person to not show off his ring whenever he has a chance."

"I've always wanted to see a real-life popersoal!" Jarro gasps, flying into the room with his own little suit on. It's a nice black with green undertones just like Bruce's.

He lands in the miniature chair with a dinner dining set Alfred had special ordered for him.

It sits on top of where a regular dining set usually is, always the second chair on Bruce's left, because he is literally the favorite. Bruce denies it, but they all see the tender smile he throws the floating star.

The Wayne kids know. Jarro is too precious and hilarious, so none of them mind that he's the favorite. In fact, Dick has half the mind that he's the favorite of the majority of the family.

Jason leans over to pat Jarro's head, grinning when the little starfish swears. He adores when the kid randomly curses out of Aldred's hearing range.

"Shh, they're coming!" Cullen says from where he was lingering by the door, hoping to see Tim and Kon. He always looked up to the older boys as someone who had been forced into the closet for his own protection.

Seeing people like him helped ease the fear, and Dick feels his smile wideing when Cullen scrambles back to his seat. He's so excited he's practically in the Speed Force.

Alfred opens the door first, stepping to the side to allow the guest to enter first. Dick feels himself sit up straighter, the moment really setting in, Kon is going to propose to his younger brother.

His little Timmy is growing up-

"Wow, this place is big!" A child says, running into the room. Who the heck is he? "It's amazing, Dad!"

"Slow down. You don't want to fall." Tim laughs, rubbing the stranger's hair with a soft smile.

"It's okay, Dad. I'm strong!" The boy flexes his tiny arms. Tim laughs again as Kon crouches down to the little boy's height.

"Woah! Look at all those musceles. You're going to help me protect your dad, son?"

"Yeah Pa, I'll be the strongest super or robin ever!"

"Tim? Who might this lovely chum be?" Bruce cuts in, voice slightly strained. No one calls him out on it since they are staring wide eye at the tiny little boy who looks like an exact copy of Tim at age five.

Dick knows because he was one of the few in the Wayne's who saw Tim at that age. He's practically a clone to oh no.

Dick thinks he's having a heart attack.

Tim looks up at them before a brillient glowing smile breaks across his face. "Everyone, Kon and I have an announcement to make!"

Kon wraps an arm around his waist, sending adoring looks to man in his arms before they both hold up their left hand.

There are twin silver bands on both of their fingers. "We got married in Las Vegas, and we have a son! I like you all to meet Danny Drake-Kent! I made him when I thought Kon was dead."

"I am Danny, clone of Kon-el and Tim Drake. Fear me if you dare!" His voice squeaks. Squeaks.

Scratch that, Dick knows he's having a heart attack.

You can hear a pin drop in the silence his announcement cause, as Danny puffs up his chest and floats a few inches off the grown.

Oh, great heavens, Dick is an uncle.

"A fellow clone, son!" Jarro cheers from his little table. He slams two of his star points on the table to a beat that he speaks to. "One of us. One of us."

Danny's blue eyes land on the star fish and widen. He raises both arms into the air chanting back. "One of us. One of us. One of us!"

"It's awesome is what it is!" Steph cries, jumping up from her seat. "Hi, Danny! I'm you, Auntie Steph! I'm the cool one."

"Isn't this lovely? Master Tim not only has a husband but a child as well. Unlike some Masters." Aldred doesn't quite glare at Bruce, but he doesn't have to. The Waynes know who he means as Bruce wince.

Danny pauses in his chanting to look her up and down, staring pointily at her plum colored dress before humming. "That's a bold statement for an eggplant."

Steph gapes at him as Tim roars with laughter.

Oh, Dick is going to love this kid. He leaves his seat, trying to get to his nephew as the rest of the family attempts to do the same. Damain makes alarming threats to Kon, letting him know he would easily take him out if he detects a hint of mistreatment to his brother and new nephew.

The Waynes act like they can't hear the threat because they all have their own versions of the shovel talk prepared. They just have to get the clone alone.

It's a nice dinner.

And The Finalists Are... Part 1

The 2024 Story Finalists Are Now All Bookmarked And Added To The Collection - Or Permission Requested.

Best Multi-Chapter

A Sky Full Of Stars By Olliecollie

Broken Mirrors And Fragile Things By Evienyx

Dark Matter By Mysterycyclone

Get Off My Lawn, Or I'll Turn The Hose On You By Bergen

Leap Of Faith (Catch Me If You Can) By Erinwantstowrite

Best One-Shot

How To Get Banned From Monaco (Again) By Niniblack

King Of The Interns By Isadancurtisproduction

Moonstruck By Jaworley

One More Time By Bluesweatshirt

The Shoe Shining Business Is Booming By Bergen

Best Drabble

Christmas With You By Badass_Bookworm

Peter Parker Needs A Hug By Happyaspie

They Happen Because Of You By Diamondshard143

Walk To The Parkperseus By Phoenix_Black61

Best Plot Twist

Dark Matter By Mysterycyclone

The Hoax By Happyaspie

Occupational Hazard By Bergen

Delete That Footage By Iron_Spider

Identity Saga By Kitcat992

Best Biodad

All I've Waited For (Where You Belonged) By Jaworley

For We Are Bound By Symmetry By Kingdomfaraway

I Believe I'm Lacking Some Context By Bergen

Men Of Iron By Spdrmain

The Moon And Stars (And Gummy Worms Where They Shouldn’t Be) By Jaworley

Best Worlds Colliding

4.2 And Running In Circles (Don’t Give Up Kid, I’m Here) By Jaworley

Heir Of Stark Industries By Inkinmyheartandonthepage

King Of The Interns By Isadancurtisproduction

Peter Parker Would Like It On Record That He Didn't Know About The Google Doc Robin07

Peter’s Tony By Mswinifredquale

Potluck By Mswinifredquale

Best Hurt/Comfort

If You Find That You Feel Lost, I'll Be Your Ticket Back By Kingdomfaraway

Peter Begins : The Lost Episode By Peterparkersbff

Take All Your Chances While You Can By Theregularwriter

To Be Built Back Up Again By Fotibrit

Tony Stark Is Humandetective_Sarcasm

Best Homeless

Leap Of Faith (Catch Me If You Can) By Erinwantstowrite

Dark Matter By Mysterycyclone

Hierarchy Of Needs By Bergen

Broken Mirrors And Fragile Things By Evienyx

Occupational Hazard By Bergen

Best Adoption

Hierarchy Of Needs By Bergen

Fostering Hope By Happyaspie

7 Times Peter Starts To Realize He Has A Family + The One Time He Knows He Does Jaworley

100 Hours (Community Service Is For The Turtles) By Orphanaccount

But Don't Give Up (Just Hold On Tight) By Olliecollie

Best Fix-It

A Lapse In Memory By Inkinmyheartandonthepage

Broken Mirrors And Fragile Things By Evienyx

The Fifth Stage Of Grief By Bergen

Tis The Damn Season (For A Christmas Miracle) By Peacockgirl

Try, Try Again By Mak5258

Best 5+1

5 Times Peter’s Metabolism Screwed Him Over By For_The_Night

7 Times Peter Starts To Realize He Has A Family + 1 Time He Knows He Does By Jaworley

Make Yourself At Home By Happyaspie

The Iron Dad Protocol By Peacockgirl

What Means The Most By Mswinifredquale

NOTE: Sorry for the split posts. Tumblr wouldn't let us post as one.

thinking about that post of people assuming ao3 has an algorithm and also about how bonkers persistent the view is that ao3 is social media lite. like with startling regularity I get comments saying something along the lines of "it's probably weird to comment on a fic this old--" no it isn't!!!! this is an archive I am literally just assuming you searched for a selection of specific tags or sorted by kudos or looked back on my pseud or any other number of completely normal ways to use an archive site ?? kill the tiktok ghost in your brain and comment on old stuff it's NOT weird

After moving to Gotham and having to deal with a stressful job, Danny has started taking walks around the city as a way to destress.

Since he knows that he could get mugged, he just becomes intangible and invisible while listening to some loud music on his phone.

Unfortunately for him, his control on his Invisibility keeps slipping when he gets lost in his music, and the people of Gotham keep seeing a semi-translucent ghost man walking around at night aimlessly.

Some thugs think it’s just a meta with invisibility and try to mug him, but pass right through and he disappears completely. This convinces them that he is a ghost, since having both invisibility, and intangibility would be too big a coincidence. Not to mention he never reacts to them whatsoever.

The Bat’s get word that a Ghost has been stalking the streets of Gotham, and he looks scarily like Bruce Wayne from the little they have been able to see from him. Now Batman thinks his dad may have come back as a ghost.

Danny is oblivious to all of this. He just likes his nightly strolls.