#‘​it’s okay! the cat didn’t even get hit! it’s fine and cass had no reason to worry actually’ yknow.

[the-meme-monarch]

nooo im not emotionally invested in cass’ stage bc of the cat death nooo what are you talking about

but yes i did slightly redesign the cat bc as it is in game is ugly as hell and no cat is normally ugly as hell. they went out of their way to make that cat ugly as hell

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 18

Chapter 1     Chapter 17

Mari waved up at Nightwing before turning toward the café.  He grinned and waved back.  No sense of embarrassment at getting caught like Red Robin had the day before.  She didn’t know enough about him to know if it was because he wasn’t hiding, Red Robin had given him a warning that she knew someone would be there, or because he had no sense of embarrassment, or most likely, a combination of all of those.

Adrien looked up and grinned too.  “What time did he take over?”

Marinette shrugged and cut through the café’s outdoor seating.  “Later than yesterday.  When did Dick leave?  It was some time after that.”

Adrien looked at him for a moment and shook his head. He looked back at Marinette before the memory of sleep deprived Marinette hit him.  He grimaced.  It was hit or miss whether she would be funny, emotional, or a danger to herself. If Batman was the same… “I really hope Batman doesn’t have a day job because with all the all-nighters he’s pulling, he would have to be a zombie at work.”

Marinette giggled at the idea.  “Can you imagine Batman with a day job?  What do you think he does?  Like, could you imagine him as a kindergarten teacher?”  Marinette’s giggles grew into full blown laughter. She finally was able to gasp out, “Batman complimenting some little kid’s rainbow and assuring them that making the entire rainbow the same color was extremely creative and beautiful.  Or trying to guess what animal they drew.”

Adrien laughed and patted her arm to get her to stop.  “Wait, wait. Batman crouching next to a toddler and explaining for the eighth time in the last three minutes that Pete the Cat is in fact a cat, not a dog before patting them on the head and walking away to scream into a nap mat.”

Marinette Laughed hard enough she almost missed the door handle.  She jumped when Adrien suddenly grabbed her arm.  She turned to him wide eyed but she immediately relaxed.  He was bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement.  “No, no, no.  A PA to some… NO, to M. Wayne!  Batman as M. Wayne’s PA.  Oh my God, can you imagine?”

Marinette giggled and shook her head at him, pushing through the door.  Well, that would certainly explain why the bats seemed so close to the Waynes.  She spotted Duke and waved.  He jumped up and waved them over.  “Hey, Duke.  I hope you don’t mind that I brought Adrien.”

“Not at all,” Duke gave them both a hug.  He looked toward the bathroom with a smile. “Good to see you again, man.  I hope you don’t mind that Cass and I both brought someones too.”  Cass and Stephanie were walking toward them with a red headed woman in a wheelchair. Duke leaned toward them and lowered his voice so the women approaching couldn’t hear him.  “Brought is a really liberal term for what happened.  I am so sorry.  I knew we shouldn’t have mentioned meeting with you in front of Stephanie.”

“Hey Cass,” Marinette called out.  She and Adrien waved at her.  “Good to see you again, Stephanie.”

Cass waved back and nodded with a wide smile. “Marinette!” Stephanie chirped. “I’d say what a coincidence we ran into you guys here…”

“But that would be a lie,” Barbara finished for her. “Hi,” she held out her hand for them, “I’m Barbara.”

Marinette smiled and stepped forward to shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.  I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Well yeah we crashed,” Stephanie rolled her eyes and dropped into a seat across from Marinette.  She sent a playful glare toward Duke.  “You guys have been keeping her all to yourselves all week.  It’s our turn to hang out with her again.  Not to mention I wanted to catch up with the woman who fed the Riddler’s own balls to him for everyone to see.”

“And we wanted to see how you’re doing after it,” Barbara added with a chastising look to Stephanie.  She turned to side eye Duke.  “We tried to check with the boys but they were less than helpful.”

Marinette shrugged and leaned back slightly, not enough for anyone else in the café to notice but everyone else at the table picked up on it.  “I’m fine. It wasn’t bad.  More embarrassed he caught me in the first place.”

Stephanie waved her off.  “Please,” she scoffed.  “He had to knock out like an entire block just to get you.  That’s better than some of the bats.”

“Well, you look like you’re healing well,” Barbara nodded with a supportive smile.

Marinette smiled as naturally as she could and tried to control how much she was shifting in her seat.  She really, really hated talking about the whole thing with not only people who didn’t know she had been a superhero, but with the Waynes after that dinner, so that was two strikes against discussing this right now.

She’d been able to joke about it and moan about how contrived the whole setup with Alya and Nino.  They’d laughed all night about the audacity.  Not only had he thought he could stump her with a question about Chat Noir, he thought he would win against her in a game that relied on luck or rather bad luck not striking.  It was almost enough to make her forget the way the dinner had ended.  It was exactly what she had needed.  But she couldn’t do that here.

“Yeah,” she chuckled anxiously.  “My cheek seems to be doing well.  I’m hoping I can cover it with makeup by next week.”

“How’s your shoulder?” Duke asked motioning toward the shoulder she’d rammed into the doorframe when she was running away.

Marinette blinked at him a few times before she quirked her head to the side, her face scrunching in confusion.  “How did you know about that?”

She could see the rest of the table tense up, Adrien included but for the same reason as her, confusion on how he’d known. She had no idea why the rest were tensing up.  Duke chuckled awkwardly, sending looks over to the women at the table.  “He’s covering for me,” Barbara finally spoke up.

“Why is… what is he covering up for?” Marinette asked cautiously.

“My father is the police commissioner,” she said quietly.  “I may have snuck a look at the police report… slightly illegally… and read about your injuries.”

Marinette shook her head.  “But, I didn’t tell them about that.”

“No,” Barbara acknowledged, “but Signal did.”

Marinette nodded, trying to process that information. “Huh,” was all she managed to eke out. Her mind raced trying to figure out what to say next.  She was saved from trying to figure out how to move the conversation along by the waiter. The topic seemed to fade away naturally as everyone put in their order.

As soon as the waiter left, Duke clapped his hands with a bright smile.  “So, Steph, you said again.  I take it you guys have met before?”

“At the gala,” Adrien nodded.  “Only briefly though.  We,” he motioned between him and Stephanie, “spoke for a little bit, but Marinette only spoke with her for a few seconds.”

Stephanie grimaced at the reminder.  “Yeah… not exactly the ideal meeting.”

Marinette waved her off.  “Not your fault.  Don’t worry about it.”  She sent her a sincere smile.

“No,” Stephanie agreed.  “It’s Bruce’s.”

Cass pulled out a credit card with a wicked grin. “On Bruce.”

Barbara nodded.  “Exactly.  Therefore, this lunch is on Bruce.  Maybe we should go shopping after this too?”  She raised an eyebrow at Marinette.

Marinette giggled and shook her head.  “No, thank you.  That’s okay.  I’m good.”

Stephanie’s eyes lit up.  She leaned closer to Marinette like she was sharing a secret. “Speaking of the gala, how did you get tickets to the gala anyway?  We never figured it out.”  Barbara groaned lightly and smacked her on the shoulder.  They had just changed the subject.  Marinette probably did not want to talk about the gala, where they raved about their family and the newest member, which was not her and did not did not include her.

Instead of freezing up or withdrawing, like Barbara worried she would, Marinette started laughing.  Her eyes were sparkling with mirth.  She leaned closer to them over the table and lowered her voice. “I pimped out my friend,” she confided with a smirk.

The rest of the table froze until Adrien groaned and Stephanie and Duke started laughing loud enough to draw disapproving looks from neighboring tables.  Cass raised an eyebrow, but her lips were quirked up in amusement.  “Say that again,” Barbara prompted.

Marinette shrugged and took a sip of her drink.  “I don’t know if it counts as pimping if he did it willingly.  He was willing to do it for Max.”

“Oh my God, Marinette.”  Adrien ran his hand over his face in exasperation.

“What exactly was he willing to do?” Barbara’s voice was now less amused and more wary.

“That was the worst possible way to say it,” Adrien groaned.

“You know, maybe I don’t want to know the answer to that…” Barbara hedged.  She leaned away from Marinette cautiously.

Marinette laughed at Adrien’s frustration and bumped his shoulder with hers.  “I offered up a date with Luka Coffaine to Audrey Bourgeois’ PA in exchange for the tickets she turned down,” she explained.

There was absolute silence for a few seconds until Stephanie broke the silence.  “You know Luka Coffaine?” she yelled.  

Everyone in the café turned slowly to look at them. Marinette’s eyes widened and looked around at them.  She gave them an awkward smile and a wave before turning back to the table.  Before she could chastise Stephanie, Cass was already on top of it.  She pointed sternly around the restaurant and back at Stephanie.  Stephanie nodded guiltily.  “Yeah, yeah.  Sorry.” She turned back to Marinette excitedly. “I just…” she lowered her voice and leaned closer to Marinette.  “You know Luka Coffaine?”

Marinette rolled her eyes at her excitement.  It was always so bizarre to see people’s reaction to Luka.  It was Luka. Just Luka.  Calm, reserved, laidback Luka.  The hysteria around his name just never seemed to fit.  “Yeah, I mean, we dated for a while so… yeah.”

“You dated Luka Coffaine!” Stephanie yelled again, receiving glares from everyone at the table.  Marinette shrunk down in her chair and gave a strained, apologetic smile to the rest of the café.  Cass slapped Stephanie’s shoulder and shook her head.  Stephanie waved her off and focused back on Marinette.  “Yeah, yeah.  Discretion.  Whatever. She dated Luka freaking Coffaine,” Stephanie insisted, motioning to Marinette.

“You dated Tim Drake,” Duke pointed out.

Stephanie snorted.  “That’s just Tim.  He’s just a big dork.  She dated…”

“Yeah we got it,” Barbara cut her off.

“Really, so is Luka,” Adrien shrugged.  “Probably more so, just about music.”  Marinette cocked her head to the side in thought for a few seconds before nodding in agreement.  He really was.

“Holy shit.  Did he introduce you to his dad?”  Stephanie was bouncing in her seat at the idea and the potential for an inside scoop on Jagged Stone.

“No,” Marinette answered.  She smiled internally at the way all their faces, except for Adrien’s fell, just a bit, almost imperceptibly, as if trying to hide their disappointment.  “I already knew him.”

“You know Jagged Stone?” Stephanie yelled. Marinette cringed as she sent the other patrons another apologetic smile.

Duke leaned over closer to her so he could whisper in her ear, though his voice intentionally carried across the table. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this anymore.”

“No!” Stephanie screeched, before catching what she did and settling down, a mask of composure settling on her face.  “I’m fine now.  I just needed to get that out.  I’m calm.” She stared at them for a few seconds before almost lunging across the table.  Adrien deftly moved his and Marinette’s drinks before she knocked them over in her zeal.  “Please tell me more.”

Marinette’s eyes widened and she started laughing.  “You realize you’re basically a daughter to the richest man in the world.  If you wanted to meet Jagged Stone, you could.”

Cass shook her head.  “Different.”

Barbara nodded.  “She’s right it is different.  You dated his son.  That’s a different type of knowing someone.”

“So you met Luka through Jagged?” Stephanie pressed.

Marinette suddenly looked uncomfortable.  She was not really excited to talk about their family dynamic and secrets.  It was a little too close to her own and she really, really wanted to move past that, not dwell on it more.  “No… I met Luka through my friend Juleka, his sister.  We went to school together for ages.  They’re both some of my best friends.”

“And she introduced you to Jagged?” Duke asked curiously.  He could tell something was off about this based on the way Marinette responded, but he wasn’t sure what.

“No… um…” she stuttered.  “I met Jagged through a school project.  Designed some sunglasses for him and we’ve been close ever since.”  Adrien grabbed her hand and squeezed it under the table

Stephanie looked between the two of them and plastered on a bright smile.  “So what I’m hearing is you can hook us up with some tickets next time he comes into town.”

Marinette laughed lightly.  “Either one of us could, yes.”

“Or for Clara Nightengale,” Adrien added in. “She loves Marinette, too.  She wanted her in one of her videos.”

“She wanted you in it too,” Marinette reminded him.

“No,” he corrected her, “Gabriel got me into it. She just had to deal with it.  She didn’t choose me.  She chose you.  She worked to get you in the video.”

Marinette opened her mouth to refute that but snapped it shut quickly as the words resonated in her head.  She meant more because Clara chose her.  He was thrust on Clara.  But it didn’t mean he was unwanted.  She looked down at her food and took a bite, trying to cover her sudden inability to breathe.  Trying to give herself time to process.  She needed to pack that away for later when she could properly unpack that statement, deconstruct it, and then finally reconstruct it in some skewed, perverted version of the original situation.

Adrien immediately froze seeing her reaction. He opened his mouth to say something but Marinette squeezed his hand under the table before he could, a silent message they could talk about it later, when they were alone, or at least not with an audience comprised of Waynes.

“So how did you meet Mons…” she stuttered.  It felt strange to call him M. Wayne when everyone else at the table was calling him Bruce.  Should she call him Bruce too?  Like they did.  Like Dick did?  Or B, like Jason did?  “…M. Wayne?” she finally settled on.

Duke grimaced.  They had a cover story, but was he really going to give Bruce’s daughter the cover story?  The truth involved Batman.  But Bruce hadn’t told her about that part of their lives yet, and even if he had told her, he certainly hadn’t told Adrien.  “It’s a long story…”

Marinette smiled encouragingly at him.  “We have time.” She saw him falter and felt her own smile falter.  She took note of the way the women had frozen up as well.  God, what was she doing?  M. Wayne had said how they met.  Why was she bringing that up now?  What was she thinking?  Even if he was okay discussing that trauma, he probably didn’t want to open up about it with a stranger.  

“You don’t have to tell me,” she assured him.  “It’s… it’s fine.”  She looked around desperately for something else to talk about, a change of topic to make the conversation not so awkward.  “You graduate from school next year, right?”  Duke blinked a few times before he let out a breath and nodded.  She let out a breath as well when the rest of the table seemed to relax at her question.  “Do you have plans for after you graduate?  Are you going to take a gap year or go to university or get a job?”

“I haven’t really decided yet.  Go to Gotham University, I guess,” he shrugged.

Marinette smiled disarmingly at him.  “You don’t have to decide now.  You have time.”

The waiter interrupted Marinette’s response with their food.  They gave their thanks and started eating.  “So what have you missed the most while you’ve been here?” Barbara asked.

“My parents’ cooking definitely,” Marinette grinned as she looked at her food. It didn’t look bad, but compared to her parents’ cooking… well not much compared.  “And the atmosphere.  Gotham is…” she looked around them as she thought of an unoffensive way to end that sentence.

“Dreary as Hell,” Stephanie finished for her.  “Yeah, we know.”

“I swear you guys have more gargoyles than we do though, which is just strange to me,” Adrien added.  “We were supposed to have the market cornered on gothic architecture.”

“Oh, you still do.  We just took the most depressing, dismal, gloomy, nightmare inducing parts and ran with it,” Duke grinned.  “But I would like to see Paris sometime.  Go see the Eiffel Tower… and jump off it.”

Barbara, Stephanie, and Cass all groaned at him.  Barbara gave him a stern look and pointed a warning finger in his face. “Not during the day.”

Duke laughed at her.  “Well I’m not going to do it at night.”

“Do it at sunrise,” Marinette advised.  “Less gendarmerie around then and if you angle it correctly, you get the most gorgeous view of the sunrise.”

“Bring sunglasses if you jump that way though.  I didn’t and I saw spots for hours.  Oh, and stretch first too,” Adrien added.  “You’re going to have to parkour for quite a while to try to ditch the GN.”

The rest of the table stared at them, jaws dropped in shock.  There was absolute silence at the table except for the sounds of Marinette sipping her drink and Adrien chewing his food. “You’ve…” Duke started almost too in awe to be able to finish the sentence.  “You’ve jumped off the Eiffel Tower?”

Marinette nodded and motioned between the two of them.  “Both of us have.  Both during an akuma attack and not.  Not was much preferable to during.”

“Isn’t that illegal?” Stephanie asked slowly.  She was like 90% positive it was but during akuma attacks, who knew what was legal anymore and Hell, maybe they had days where they gave exceptions. Stranger things have happened.

Marinette speared a bit of food and pointed it at her.  “Only if you get caught.”  She popped the food in her mouth with a triumphant grin.

Barbara blinked at her a few times and shook her head because dear God, there was another one.  She was going to fit right in.  No wonder she and Duke got along so well.  Both creative, smart, kind, thrill seeking, dumbasses.  “I’m pretty sure that’s not how that works,” she deadpanned.

Adrien shrugged and took a sip of his drink.  “I don’t know.  We didn’t get arrested, so I’m pretty sure it is.”

Duke and Stephanie started laughing hysterically.  They looked over at Cass with raised eyebrows when they settled down. Cass stared intently at Marinette and Adrien for a few seconds, staring into them like she was reading their souls. Marinette and Adrien looked at each other with identical unsure looks and subconsciously leaned back at the same time, shuffling in their seats.  Cass stared at them for just a few more seconds before she nodded.

“Holy shit,” Duke muttered in awe.  “You were telling the truth.”

Marinette looked back over at Adrien for an explanation he clearly didn’t have, judging by the blank look on his face before looking back at Duke.  “Uh… yeah?”

“What just happened?” Adrien asked tentatively.

“Sorry about that,” Barbara sent them a disarming smile.  “Cass is kind of like a human lie detector.  She is exceptionally good at telling if someone is lying.  She just confirmed that you two were not.”

Marinette blinked at Barbara a few times before turning to Cass and blinking at her.  “Huh… good to know,” she nodded slowly.  Her eyes stayed on Cass but it was clear her mind was running a mile a minute behind them.  After a few seconds she spoke up again.  “Can you tell the lies people tell themselves too?”

Cass quirked her head to the side and studied Marinette for a moment and shook her head.  “Have to know.”

Marinette nodded and silently took a bite of her food. “Well, that has to come in handy,” Adrien chirped.  “Remind me to take you with me when I meet people.”

Marinette could feel eyes boring into her.  She looked back over at Cass and raised a curious eyebrow at her.  “Hero,” she finally said.

Marinette coughed for a second and looked back at her with her most convincing blank look.  “I’m sorry.  What?”

Cass nodded toward Marinette.  “Eiffel Tower.”

Marinette chuckled disarmingly and shook her head. “You think I’m a lot more honorable than I am.  You think it’s more likely that I was a hero than that I knowingly, intentionally, purposefully violated the law for fun.”  She leaned closer to Cass with a smirk.  “But I can assure you, I regularly did.”

The others at the table looked to Cass.  She quirked her head to the side and gave a small smile before nodding.  “Truth.”  Cass pointed to herself.  “Next time.”

Marinette grinned and nodded excitedly. “Absolutely.”

Duke cleared his throat.  “And Duke,” Cass added.

Marinette chuckled.  “Of course.  We can make a New Kids Club event out of it.”

“And me!” Stephanie chirped.

Barbara sighed and turned to Adrien.  “Dick said you had a job interview yesterday.  How did it go?”

Marinette beamed at Adrien as he responded. Adrien’s face lit up.  “It went well I think.  I think I’d really enjoy working there!  I met the department chair and other professors.  It looks like a really supportive department and University, very research oriented.”

“Where is it?” Duke asked between bites.

“Metropolis,” Adrien answered, his fondness he’d already developed for the city bleeding into his tone.

“Oooh, Conner lives there.  If you’re still deciding if you want to live there or if you need a tour guide, or recommendations on where to eat, he’d be more than happy to help,” Stephanie offered.

Marinette’s smile turned into a pointed smirk and Adrien groaned quietly.  “Conner, did you say?”

Stephanie looked between them, her brow furrowing in confusion.  “Yeah?”

“That wouldn’t happen to be Tim’s single friend would it?”  Her eyes never left Adrien as she asked, her smirk somehow getting even sharper.

Adrien groaned even louder when he looked over and saw Cass’ smile matched Marinette’s and Duke and Stephanie both had devious, familiar looking glints in their eyes.  This was clearly payback for all his attempts to set Marinette and Chloe up with different people.  “Why yes, yes it is.  How about that,” Duke grinned.

Cass pulled out her phone and moved her finger around the screen for a second then finally looked up with an innocent looking smile.  Adrien groaned and dropped his head into his hands.  “I’m not even in this family.  Why am I being punished?”

Barbara laughed and popped a bit of food in her mouth. “That’s funny.  You think just because there’s no paperwork, you haven’t been adopted already.  I made that mistake at first too.”

Chapter 19

Tags:

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[tvitr]

uwu I don’t make the ruwules

(Okay fine, reasons/opinions below the cut but be warned! I won’t be holding back on game or book spoilers. Or rambling. This got longer than I anticipated lol)

BETTER IN THE BOOK

Eis “Fireman Sam” Glover: I don’t know what the game was trying to do with this one. I guess he gets overwhelmed by the fire and loses his composure or gets scared or... something?  Also why did he not bring a hose. Or a mask.  This is why so many reviewers thought Wonderworld was a metaphor for purgatory and all the inhabitants are dead I swear. Who cares, the book handled it a lot better. I wouldn’t say it’s perfect, but there’s definitely a good idea here with some interesting themes. The gist is that he feels ashamed following his captain’s orders to retreat during a serious blaze, which his colleagues disobeyed, and his colleagues are later hailed as heroes by the press.  Is Balan the Book trying to take on toxic masculinity...? How brave. Tl;dr, the book conveyed the story a Hell of lot better than the game. Honestly I’m surprised this is the only one.

BETTER IN THE GAME

Haoyu “Airplane Boi” Chang: So the book tried waaaay too hard to draw a parallel between Haoyu and Fiona (aka, Dolphin Girl) to the point that they both share a similar backstory, in that they had a hobby which led to a near-fatal accident and now they’re too traumatised to resume said hobby. And that’s not a bad thing per se but... “near fatal accident” was already Fiona’s backstory. We didn’t need a duplicate. And this is more personal preference, but I kinda liked Haoyu’s story in the game anyway. His failure at building a functioning aeroplane out of crap he found in his garage is endearingly funny in the game, and the resolution of him taking time out to sit down and study before building anything is a nice spin on the whole “if at first you don’t succeed” theme the chapter wanted. 

Sana “Bird Lady” Hudson: So the book decided they didn’t want to make Cal an angry sore loser so guess what? They made Sana an angry misanthrope. Wonderful. Okay maybe that’s harsh, but she definitely came off as very bitter and unsympathetic in the book. Like there’s a scene at the end where she harasses a firefighter and tries to steal a fire engine because they’re working on a building fire and not supervising her park. That’s not a character you wanna root for. That’s a Karen. The game had a better plot thread and resolution to her story rather than a boring cookie-cutter “humans vs. nature grrrr humans are so evil” story, like the game story here had a bit more depth to it and approached the topic more maturely than the book did. Which is ironic considering how hilariously edgy the book gets sometimes, but I guess throwing a few smashed eggs and frozen bird skeletons into your story doesn’t mean anything if you’re still going to paint such a black-and-white narrative.

Iben “Frozen Elsa” Bia: This story didn’t need dialogue. Like... we don’t need her to justify why she’s upset her parents are dead because we’d already assume that. They’re her parents! Of course we’d assume she’d be upset! They died! Simultaneously! That’s horrible! WE DON’T NEED HER TO EXPLAIN THIS! Also her dialogue in the book was... pretty terrible, not gonna lie. Like if you’re gonna insist on dialogue at least make it gOOD. I’m actually planning on just reviewing her book scene so I can fully articulate just how bad it is anyway, so stay tuned for that mess lol.

FINE IN BOTH

I mean there’s not really too much to say here but anyways:

Jose/”The Farmer” having a family in the book gives him a bit more depth, even if we never hear from them again after his backstory dump.

Fiona/”Dolphin Girl” almost drowns in a slightly different way, with a dolphin straight up pulling her mask off rather than knocking it out of her mouth, and the book also goes more into detail about her love for diving and dolphins. Also the book ships her and Haoyu like. So hard. Like they never shut up about how similar they are or what they other’s doing or if the other’s okay or not. By the end of it I was expecting them to just start making out in front of everyone, they’re that obsessed with each other. And it would be funny if they didn’t use this to wreck Haoyu’s backstory like I mentioned earlier.

Yuri/”Bug Kid”/”Is that a Pokémon reference?” is now being kinda bullied for liking bugs, which yeah gives her more depth and reason to be upset but I also kinda related to her just being that One Kid with interests that nobody else had. But it’s not as bad as some of the other changes, so I can let it slide.

Atillio/Clown and Bruce/Old Man are the same, nothing to say here.

Lucy/”The Artist” is a total drama queen but then again so are Art People so I can let it slide. I did like them changing her problem from “artist’s block” (seriously?) to her feeling too under pressure to create masterpieces, unless that’s what the game was aiming for? Oh who cares.

JUST A BIG MESS

Cass “Dead Cat Girl” Milligan: This is a weird one because the story is the same between the game and book (though the book mentions she witnessed a more severe car accident rather than a speeding car which she assumes kills the cat, and the cat isn’t even her cat, it’s a stray) but the story itself is... flawed. According to the book, they wanted to convey the idea that running away from the accident was irresponsible, and she just needed to look back and she’d see her cat is okay, but the game kind of makes it look more like Balan turned back time to save her cat, and the book mentions a serious car crash which I don’t think anyone would willingly return to. I feel there’s a better way to convey this idea of being responsible for your pets, like say her cat escapes from the house and gets lost, and her resolution is going out and properly looking for it. That’s a more effective (and natural) way to relay that message, especially as they weren’t going to commit to the idea of grieving a lost pet.

I’M CONFLICTED

Cal “Chess Daddy” Suresh: God this was a tough call. On one hand Cal’s game backstory is one of the ones most YouTube players single out as the weakest backstory in the game. He’s just “that guy who lost one game of chess”. Being right before Iben’s level certainly doesn’t help. I could honestly write a separate post about how bad the story placements are in this game but that’s too long for here.  On the other hand, I still... kinda like it? Like I like this idea of him being a sore loser with a bad temper who needs to learn some humility, sure it’s not as serious as “I almost drowned” or “my parents are dead” but one of the few good things about the game is that it balanced “serious” stories with “benign” ones, if that makes sense. HOWEVER His book scene is... probably one of the best written in the whole book. Which isn’t saying much, but it felt like it hit the intended degree of darkness that the rest of the book was trying to hit. One of my main issues with the book is how much it edged up everyone’s backstory, which doesn’t sound bad but when you have 12 characters with edgy backstories to sit through, it starts to feel like a 14 year old's first attempt at writing an angsty fanfiction very quickly. And yes, Cal’s story is dark and angsty but it felt like the perfect balance of dark and angsty. Or as perfect as the book can get. Like even Balan’s annoying rhyming dialogue sounded good for the tone of the scene. Man maybe I should just do a review of both his backstories in a bigger post.  Obviously I could be biased because I’m a sucker for chess aesthetics and dark skinned men with long permed hair so I’m just putting more thought into him but still.

[starbornvalkyrie]

paper rings [a nessian one-shot]

a/n: hey besties!! here’s some fluff for this fine saturday. i wrote this for my mate, my besta @vanserrasvalkyrie​ bc i love her to death and she deserves everything. i wrote this based on paper rings by taylor swift. enjoy!

acotar masterlist || masterlist of masterlists

When the sunlight hit his face, Cassian stretched with a groan and reached for his girlfriend. Girlfriend. Three years and he was still shocked that was the title he could call Nesta Archeron. When they met all those years ago, he could have sworn she hated him. He thought it might have been his high clouding his mind but no. 

Nesta gave him the cold shoulder every time they hung out, though he never failed to sense her eyes on him when they were out with his friends. There was something about Nesta that always drew him to her. Some sort of gravitational pull that made her irresistible--even as she pushed him away.

Cassian frowned when he found that the other side of the bed was cold, his girlfriend long gone for the day. Blinking slowly, he wondered if she told him what she was up to today. Not that she needs to, but she usually gives him a heads up. His thoughts were pulled away when his phone chimed.

A single text message from Nesta read, Morning, babe. I’m out running errands with Feyre today. I’ll see you later. Xx

Cassian couldn’t help the grin that formed on his lips at her use of the word babe, and he used that energy to get out of bed and prepare for the day. The day that he hopes will bring him one step closer to calling Nesta his wife.

He dialed Rhys, putting the phone to his ear as he fastened his watch around his wrist. He smiled fondly at it, remembering the day Nesta gave it to him saying, “Your old watch is too loud. Use this.”

Rhys answered on the last ring with a labored, “Hello?” followed by a female yelp and giggle. His brother shushed her, but Cassian’s brows furrowed.

“Is that Feyre?”

Rhys cleared his throat, “Yeah, of course, why?”

“I just thought…” He trailed off. “Nevermind, brother. Is everything still set for tonight?”

He could practically hear Rhys rolling his eyes when he replied, “Yes, brother, we’ve been over it a thousand times. It’s going to be great.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll leave you two to… whatever I interrupted.” Cassian almost gagged hearing Rhys’ stifled groan of a goodbye as he hung up, patting his jacket pocket to feel for the ring one more time. He was about to grab his keys when he noticed a note on their side table, the elegant script telling him who left it. Smiling, he picked it up and read.

Cassian,

Do you remember the night we first met? I remember it vividly, probably because I wasn’t as stoned as you. But what I haven’t told you is that I went home and stalked you on the internet. Full on FBI mode. If you tell anyone, I will not hesitate to kill you. Sometimes I think about how I tried so hard to learn every detail I could about you without actually talking to you, but now I feel like I know more than I should.

We’ve shared a lot these past three years, and I have to say that one of my favorite hobbies to share with you is reading. The days we spend wasting away in bed reading side by side are the days I hope we will continue to share for the foreseeable future. While they aren’t my favorite, I do enjoy the war novels and thrillers you keep beside your bed. I think I’ve read all of them by now.

I skimmed Catch 22 this morning and was particularly intrigued by page 143.

It wasn’t signed, but Nesta’s perfume lingered on the page, igniting Cassian’s senses. The memories she wrote of came to the forefront of his mind. She was shy at first, not wanting him to know the sort of books she enjoyed reading with her friends. But one night he snuck one off her nightstand. Needless to say, they’ve had their fair share of experimentation based on a few of her novels. And when she read his books and talked excitedly with him, he thought he’d propose on the spot.

Cassian rushed to his bedside table and, sure enough, Catch 22 is on top. He flipped to the page she mentioned. Another note fell out along with a blue paint swatch. The color looked familiar, but he couldn’t figure out where he knew it from. Shrugging, he read the note.

Cassian,

Do you remember when Azriel made us all help him paint his room? My favorite memory of that day was the fact that there was more paint on us and our friends than there was on the walls. You, of course, had the brilliant idea of jumping into the pool of Az’s apartment complex. At 8PM. On a January evening. No one wanted to join you, for obvious reasons. I still think you’re an idiot for suggesting it. I still think you’re an idiot for actually doing it.

But then again, I followed. You may have jumped first, but I went in, too. I will always follow you, Cass, to the ends of the earth.

Will you follow me, too?

Yes. One hundred percent, yes. Cassian would follow Nesta to the ends of the earth and back. He’d slay dragons for her or just sit back while she conquered them herself. He couldn’t think of a time when his world didn’t revolve around Nesta. While they played games of cat and mouse when they first met, it was always Nesta. For him, he would always follow Nesta.

Will you follow me, too? He absolutely would. There were no other directions on the note, but Cassian knew exactly where he needed to go. Carefully folding the notes, he placed them in his pocket next to the ring. Giving the pocket another pat, he grabbed the keys to his truck and made his way through town. Azriel moved out long ago to live with his girlfriend, but Cassian still knew how to get to his old apartment complex.

That night was one of the best nights of Cassian’s life, but not for the reasons Nesta might be thinking. It was fun, definitely, swimming in that freezing pool, alcohol the only reason they didn’t feel the icy bite of the water. But that was the first night Nesta laughed and smiled with only him. Sure, before then, he had seen her radiant smile and heard her mesmerizing laugh with their friends. But with no one else around them in the pool, Cassian had relished in the fact that he was the reason for her happiness. It was the first time he had dared to hope for something more.

The apartment complex wasn’t gated, so Cassian drove right in, straight to the clubhouse pool. He hopped out of his truck, leaving it running idle, as he searched the area. He searched the chaise lounge chairs and tables but only saw a towel and duffel bag that someone left behind. He walked the perimeter of the pool itself. Still nothing. Did he get it wrong? Was he supposed to go somewhere else? Confused and frustrated, Cassian was about to give up when something at the bottom of the pool caught his eye: a ziploc bag anchored by a can of paint.

“You have got to be kidding me, Nes,” he mumbled to himself. Cassian went back to inspect the duffel bag, cursing his cruel girlfriend the whole way. When he unzipped the bag, a note was on top. Have fun getting wet, was all it said. Underneath was a pair of Cassian’s swim trunks and an extra pair of clothes. Accepting his fate, he changed in the restroom, and dove into the pool.

Pulling the paint can--the same color they painted Az’s room--to the surface was harder than he thought it would be, but eventually he was sitting on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water that was a lot warmer than it was that night. Shaking the moisture from the bag and his hands, he took out the note, slightly shorter than the rest. Nesta knows he’d be impatient and nearly irritable by now, and he loved her even more for thinking about that detail.

Nice day for a swim, right? I wish I could have been there to see it, but don’t worry, I’ll have you wet and shirtless in no time later. But in all seriousness, I had a lot of fun that night. Getting to know you better in the pool is one of the highlights of our relationship and it’s something I will never forget.

But let’s go back to the beginning. Meet me in the place it all began. I’ll always be waiting for you.

Cassian grinned and pushed himself up to dry off and change. He grabbed the clothes Nesta packed for him, pleased to know she knew his style, and meticulously transferred the small box from his jacket pocket to the front of his jeans.

Knowing exactly where to go, Cassian made his way to meet his future wife.

---

Nesta waited nervously on the dock of a lake just outside of Velaris. She clutched the final envelope in her hands, reminding herself every few minutes not to ruin it. She sat on a blanket, a basket filled with Cassian’s favorite foods. She tried to push doubt from snaking its way into her brain, but she couldn’t help it.

She had been dropping hints to Cassian for months now but to no avail. After Rhys proposed to Feyre six months ago, Nesta felt that tug in her heart that told her she was ready. She practically told Cassian as much. She made it a point to talk about Feyre’s wedding prep every day, asking what he would want if he was in their position. She even went as far as showing him rings.

But Cassian hasn’t made a single move. Nesta knows he loves her, but does he not see her as wife material? Does he only love her for now? Nesta didn’t think so, and she didn’t let herself believe that, but the seed of doubt is still there, waiting to grow. To counteract the doubt, she decided to take things into her own hands.

Hence the basket and the notes. 

Her phone chimed with a text from Az telling her that Cassian just jumped into the pool. He got it on video. She laughed and asked him to let her know when Cassian left the apartment complex. While all of their friends were in on the event, Azriel was the only one she trusted to trail Cassian without being caught. Everyone else was tasked to decorate their apartment for a party after Cassian left on her scavenger hunt.

Nesta stood as she heard the sound of tires on gravel and braced herself as she watched Cassian step out of his truck and make his way towards her. Much to her amusement, she realized his hair was still a little damp from his impromptu swim, but he was also wearing the jeans and button down shirt she had packed for him as well. Nesta still counted herself lucky, praying to the Cauldron every day that this was the man that crashed into her life all those years ago.

Cassian stopped in front of her, surveying her from head to toe. His gaze sent shivers down her spine, but she stayed still as he scanned her set up on the dock, a smile gracing his lips as he most likely remembered what they’ve done out here. Multiple times.

Finally, he turned back to her and greeted her, “Hi, Nes.”

“Hey,” she said, voice low.

“What is all this?” He started to move towards her, but she held up her hand, nerves getting the best of her.

“I-- uh, we’ll get to that. But first,” she held up the note she held in her hand. “Last one.”

This time, he did step closer to her, but didn’t touch her yet. Ever observant, he knew she needed her space right now while her nerves went haywire. He stopped just in front of her, though, and asked, “Will you read it to me?”

Nesta’s eyes went wide, scanning the hazel ones she’d come to love so much. She saw only love and a hint of amusement staring back at her, so she whispered, “Okay,” and opened the envelope. With a few deep breaths, she began to read.

“Cassian. My best friend, my love. The biggest brute on the planet.

I don’t know how else to put this, but when I think about who I was when we first met, I can’t help but feel that I fell in love with you by accident. Don’t get me wrong, I am so glad that I did. But you know me, I hate accidents. I hate when things don’t go the way I want them to. And that’s you in a nutshell. I never know what’s going to happen, but I’m here for it, along for the ride for the rest of my life.

You know my past better than anyone else, even my sisters. All of the things that happened with Tomas… if none of that had happened, I wouldn’t have found you. I can even say I’m thankful for your past girlfriends, knowing that you wouldn’t be the man I know without them. We may fight, we may not be perfect, but that doesn’t stop me from loving you and hoping you love me in return.

Because I want it all, Cassian. I want you and all the complications you may come with. I want to kiss you randomly just because I can. I want to brighten your dreary Mondays, for you to wrap your arms around me while I cook, and everything in between.

You’re the one I want, Cass, in any way you’ll have me. Picture frames, dirty dreams, you name it.”

Nesta paused, steadying herself for the next part. She wiped the tears that started to fall from her eyes as she read. When she looked at Cassian, she could see the silver lining his own eyes as he gave her a watery smile. The smile she can’t imagine living without ever again. Steeling herself, she asked, “Are you going to make me do the knee thing?”

The corner of Cassian’s mouth turned up higher at that, decorating his face with that smirk that’s gotten him into so much trouble in the past. “You know how I like to see you on your knees in front of me, Nes,” he teased, making Nesta’s heart stutter.

“Brute,” she mumbled. “Fine.” Nesta adjusted her dress as she got down on one knee, holding the note in her palms. “I know this isn’t a shiny ring or anything fancy, but I don’t need any of that. I only need you, Cass. You’re the one I want until we’re taken to the next life and every moment after that as well. Will you marry me?”

Cassian hesitated for only a split second before he was on his knees in front of her, her face in his hands. “You stole my thunder,” he accused, his voice playful. When Nesta only stared at him with a cocked brow, he chuckled. She watched as he reached into his jean pocket and pulled out a small velvet, black box. Nesta couldn’t contain her gasp as he opened it to reveal a perfectly cut ruby set on a simple silver band. “You’re the only one for me, Nes. You’ve always been the only one for me.”

Nesta stared at the ring. “Cass…” she whispered.

“Are you sure you don’t want the shiny things? I can return this…”

“Don’t you dare,” she snapped. “Ring me.” Nesta stuck her left hand in Cassian’s face. He laughed but removed the ring from the box to slip it onto her ring finger.

They both watched in silence, the air buzzing with anticipation, as Cassian pushed the ring past her first knuckle then the second. Until it metaphorically clicked into place at the bottom of her finger.

A perfect fit.

Nesta launched herself at Cassian, tackling him to the deck with a searing kiss. Her heart thundered wildly, their tongues tangling as the words engaged, fiance, and future husband played on repeat in her mind like her favorite song. She pulled back to look down at her best friend, her everything, his eyes shining right back at her.

“I love you, Nes,” he said, voice low but thick with emotion.

“Until the end of time,” she replied with another kiss.

---

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[sohotthateveryonedied]

Always By Your Side

Read here on AO3!

Summary: 

The kid looks horrible, full offense. Tim is wearing one of Dick’s old Hudson University sweatshirts which just about swallows him, hanging a full inch over where his fingertips end. His hair is tied up in the messiest bun Jason has ever seen, and there’s a purple welt on his chin big enough that a helicopter could use it for a landing pad. His lip is swollen, blood still crusted over where Tim’s teeth must have torn it open on impact. Big yikes.

“If you’re here to raid my fridge, then you already know it’s bad pickings. I haven’t been shopping in weeks.”

“That’s not why I’m here, actually.” Not the only reason, at least. Multitasking is key when you’re a semi-contract killer who needs Sundays free for tea time with Alfred.

(Disclaimer: THIS IS THE ONLY BAD PARENT!BRUCE FIC I WILL EVER WRITE OKAY I SWEAR I ALWAYS AVOID THOSE KINDS OF FICS BUT I’M SALTY THAT THEY NEVER ADDRESSED BRUCE PUNCHING TIM IN COMICS SO I HAD TO DO IT MYSELF.)

It doesn’t take long to break into Tim’s apartment. Record time, actually. In less than ten minutes Jason is sliding up the window to Tim’s kitchen and climbing over the sill, easy peasy. He should really talk to the replacement about his lack of security against fellow batkids. “Timbo?” he calls, closing the window and re-locking it. “You here?” He’d better have the right place. It’s so hard keeping track of everyone’s safehouses these days, and Jason is not eager for a repeat of what happened the last time he got it wrong. That old lady looked scared to death when Jason crawled in through the air duct, covered in blood that was only thirty percent his own. (The lady was super understanding when he explained the situation. She even fixed up his stab wound with her sewing kit and made him some freshly squeezed lemonade. Jason drops by every couple of weeks to check in on her and her cats.) But Tim is the priority now. “Come out, come out, you little shit.” Jason crosses the kitchen toward the living room, then stops and backtracks. He opens the fridge for a beer, momentarily forgetting that the kid is a hopeless health nut. Jason resigns himself to a package of deli ham only two days past the expiration date. It smells fine, so it must be safe to eat, right? Of all Tim’s apartments, this one is by and far the nicest, barring the expired deli meats and un-Jason-proof security system. The living room is pristine with white sofas and a glass coffee table, making the whole setup vibe more like a hotel suite than an actual home. Definitely not Jason-proof. He sits right in the middle of the fancy sofa, kicking off his boots. “If you get mud on my carpet, you’re cleaning it up.”

Jason looks up at Tim in the doorway and grins. “Don’t I always?” The kid looks horrible, full offense. Tim is wearing one of Dick’s old Hudson University sweatshirts which just about swallows him, hanging a full inch over where his fingertips end. His hair is tied up in the messiest bun Jason has ever seen, and there’s a purple welt on his chin big enough that a helicopter could use it for a landing pad. His lip is swollen, blood still crusted over where Tim’s teeth must have torn it open on impact. Big yikes. “If you’re here to raid my fridge, then you already know it’s bad pickings. I haven’t been shopping in weeks.” “That’s not why I’m here, actually.” Not the only reason, at least. Multitasking is key when you’re a contract killer who needs Sundays free for tea time with Alfred. “Just leave whatever data you have here and I’ll look it over in the morning.” “Again, not why I’m here.” “Then can you just tell me whatever it is so I can go back to bed?” It’s five in the afternoon. “Well, jeez, kid. You don’t have to rush me out the door.” Tim’s eyes flit to the ground and stay there, giving the impression of a puppy put in his place. “Sorry.” Jason eyes Tim carefully. He takes in the timid stance, the way Tim wrings and twists the sleeve of his sweatshirt until it’s stretched beyond saving. He clearly hasn’t showered or even bothered tending to his face, like keeping the wound fresh is his way of punishing himself. “You doing okay?” “Fine, why?” “Because you look like shit, that’s why.” “It’s been a hectic few days. I’ve been meaning to crash for hours.” “How about that bruise you got there? Looks nasty.” Tim touches the bruise as if he forgot it was there, biting back a wince. “It’s fine. I got it on patrol and haven’t gotten around to icing it yet.” “Must have been a big guy to do that kind of damage.” Tim’s eyes narrow. Jason eats his ham, a picture of innocence. “If you’re trying to get me to circle around and ask you about your problems, then I’m sorry, but I’m really not in the mood to play therapist tonight. You can stay here as long as you want, but I’m going to bed.” He turns and starts toward his bedroom. “You’re really not going to tell me who gave you that bruise?” Tim stops, a shudder running down his spine. He doesn’t turn, not yet. “Did Barbara tell you?” “I can’t believe you didn’t. What, did you think this would all go away if you just kept quiet about it?” “There’s nothing to talk about. Nothing happened.” “My ass nothing happened. Bruce hit you last night. He hit you over nothing.” Tim whirls around, fists clenched. “So? I get hit all the time. Am I supposed to have a breakdown every time someone punches me?” “Getting hit by a criminal and getting hit by your dad are not the same thing, and you know it.” “I’m a big boy, Jason. I can handle it.” Jason leans forward, forgetting all about his rancid ham. “You realize how fucked up this is, right?” “Oh, give me a break—” “Hey. The adult is talking now. Our father nearly shattered your jaw a few hours ago and here you are, hiding from him like it was your fault.” Not that Jason blames him for not wanting to be near the manor after what happened; he wouldn’t either if he were in Tim’s place. Hell, he was in Tim’s place. “You weren’t there, Jay. You have no idea what happened.” “Oh, yeah? Enlighten me, then. What gives that asshole the right to put his hands on you?” “The fact that I shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place! Bruce was dealing with enough as it was without me making it worse.” “Only if you call trying to help someone ‘making things worse.’ From what Babs told me, you didn’t do Jack shit to deserve what he did.” “I don’t care what Barbara told you. I was there, I know what I did wrong, and I’ve accepted that.” “Except you did nothing wrong.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Tim’s voice is raised, his eyes narrowed. “You didn’t see how upset Bruce was. He wasn’t himself. I should have seen that and backed off, but I didn’t. He was hurting and angry, and...I provoked him. It was my own fault.” “Do you have any idea how insane you sound? You tried to help him, and he punched you in the face for it. I know you’ve dealt with this exact situation a million times, you know the protocol.” Tim rolls his eyes. “This is completely different.” “Why? Because you’re not a minor? Because Bruce isn’t your father? Or maybe because you threw the first punch? Oh, wait. None of those are fucking true.” “What do you want from me? Do you want me to start crying, call up child services and tell them that my adoptive father gave me a little bruise because I was being insubordinate while we were all dressed as vigilantes? Will that magically ease your conscience?” “I want you to stop fucking covering for him,” Jason says. “You know that there’s no excuse for a parent hurting their child.” “I’m not a child!” “Sorry to break it to you, pal, but you fucking are! And Bruce? He’s your father. It doesn’t matter if you’re twelve or seventeen or thirty—his job is to be a fucking parent to you. And instead he punched you so hard Babs said you were unconscious for a good thirty seconds.” Tim crosses his arms and leans on the wall. He doesn’t try to come closer or sit on any of the furniture, keeping his distance from Jason. “You’re blowing this way out of proportion. Maybe those rules apply to normal people, but we’re different. Violence and anger, that’s how this family communicates. Hell, Bruce and I spar all the time and you’ve never lectured me about it being abuse until now.” Jason runs a hand over his face, thoroughly done with this shit. “I can’t believe you’re still trying to rationalize this.” “Because it’s a rational thing!” “Is it?” “Yes.” “Would you ever hit him?” “It wouldn’t be the first time.” “No, I’m not talking sparring or some stupid teenage angst-fueled outburst. I’m asking if you, Tim Drake, would ever intentionally hurt Bruce in a way that would do damage. Even if he did something shitty to deserve it. Would you hurt him?” Tim hesitates. He bites his swollen lip. “I might. If I were really angry.” “We both know that’s bullshit. The guy’s got a hundred pounds on you and your hand would probably shatter if you tried to sock him in the face, but you still wouldn’t hurt him.” “So?” “So, he knows you’re a twig and he beat the shit out of you anyway. That’s not fucking okay.” “It wasn’t on purpose,” Tim says, but he’s losing momentum by the second. He looks years too tired for this conversation as it is. “It was...instinct. A spur-of-the-moment reaction. It’s not—I mean, he’s Bruce. He would never hurt us intentionally.” “He already did.” “And I’m perfectly fine. It’s not like he punched Damian or Cass, just me. He knew I could take it, and he was right. I’m fine. This bruise will heal up in a couple days, and then we can all forget it ever happened.” “I won’t.” “Why not? Why are you being so goddamn uptight about this? It has nothing to do with you, anyway.” Jason can feel his eyes smolder Lazarus green as he surges forward and hisses, “It has everything to do with me.” Tim flinches. It’s not major, barely even counts as a real flinch, but it happens. Tim flinches away from Jason, and the anger dissipates as quickly as it came. Jesus, what did Bruce do to this kid? Jason sits back, takes a breath, tries to make his voice gentler. “Bruce hurt me too, okay?” Tim’s expression doesn’t change but for a twinge of his eyebrows. “It was a misunderstanding, but...he hurt me. Badly. I was out of commission for two fucking months. Probably would have died if it hadn’t been for Roy.” That gets a reaction. Tim’s mouth drops open and he flounders for a moment, like he can’t put the two things together. Bruce attacking Jason? No results. Does not compute. “What—why would he do that?” “It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that, as irritating as you are, you don’t deserve to be treated like that.” Like he has any right to be saying this. Tim still has the scar on his neck from when Jason’s brains were made of gruel. “Not by a parent. Not by someone you’re supposed to trust. So this is me looking out for you, alright?” Jason reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulls out a crumpled paper. “I know you’ve got your own setup for when you need time away from the manor, but these are all of my addresses and phone numbers. If something like this happens again, I want you to call me.” Tim takes the paper but protests, “It’s okay, really. I don’t need—” “Yeah, yeah, you don’t need to be coddled. I get it. But keep it anyway. And if you start feeling unsafe at the manor, you call me and I’ll take care of it. I already gave Damian, Cass, and Duke copies too. Just...look out for yourself, alright? All of you. Look out for each other.” Tim folds up the paper and slips it into his back pocket. “What about you?” “The old man and I are…” That’s a whole other can of worms Jason really isn’t in the mood to unpack right now. “It’s still rocky between us. I’m keeping my distance. But for you guys, I don’t care. If one of you needs help, I’ll be there. Got it?” Tim blinks, and lucky for him, Jason is courteous enough not to make fun of the tears he is clearly holding back. “Thanks, Jay.”

[fearfulkittenwrites]

Gala and “I’m allergic to bullshit.”

Word count: 2244

Link for it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26180371

Notes: Hey! This was beta'd by @3ambird​ , who is an amazing sweetheart and improves evertything they touch. Thank you for the help!

Galas were never fun. Bruce had hated them as a kid, and hated them as teen, and he hates them as an adult. Still, he has to maintain appearances, so he always attends. And as his family grew, his kids were forced to attend as well.

Dick Grayson was particularly good at socializing. After he moved past his teenage rage, of course. He used to get in passive aggressive arguments with the rich CEOs and company owners all the time. He still does, but at least now he was good at it to the point where it almost couldn’t be recognized as an argument, instead of jumping on the necks of greedy millionaires that bought land out of poor people.

That was an interesting headline.

Jason sucked at galas. Soon enough, he figured out that if he started enough awkward conversations, people wouldn’t want to talk to him anymore. Especially the creepy single older women, pinching his cheeks and squeezing his biceps.

“Say, Claire, what’s your opinion on the alarming rate at which the bees are disappearing? They say that’s because of all the chemicals we put in our food.” He’d smile, carefully holding his glass. Bruce would struggle to hide his gasp, because Jason, that’s the owner of the highest earning pesticides company in the country.

“Well, Roger, I’m certain that the legalization of abortions would be a great thing, considering that now your mistresses won’t have to be sent overseas to terminate the unwanted preganancies you give them, right?” He’d say, and Bruce would nearly have a heart attack, because Jason, that’s the president of Gotham’s conservative party.

“Oh, you see, Sandra, I think that gay marriage should not only be legalized, but encouraged. If straight couples were to cease existing, then no more children would be born, and honestly, no one needs any more of those snotty gremlins running around, ruining perfectly good tapestry.” And Bruce would faint, because Jason, for God’s sake, that is the leader of the Gotham’s Motherhood Association.

Tim wasn’t all that bad. He could be social with a little effort, and he was far more used to galas than any of the other family members, having grown up attending them. Of course, all of that was only valid when he wasn’t sleep deprived, which, considering all he had on his plate, was roughly 32% of the time. When he was running on three hours of sleep and seven cups of caffeine a day, trying to finish a project, run his share of the Wayne Enterprises, and manage school work, he became a bit more irritable and impatient. And extremely impulsive. Which is mainly why Bruce asked Dick to stand by his brother through most of the night.

“We both know you’re his impulse control, Dick.” He said, adjusting his oldest son’s tie “Remember what happened the last time he was left unattended for fifteen minutes?”

“He got into an argument with a young Creationist and dunked his own head in an ice bowl after screaming ‘Fuck God! I can hear colors and dinosaurs rule!’” Dick sighed, “Yeah, I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Cass despised them, but Bruce insisted she should attend anyway. More often than not, she’d just stay at the table, tasting as many appetizers as the waiters would bring her, and shooting murderous looks at anyone who sneered at her. Bruce was relieved that at least she wasn’t cracking any bones.

Damian was... Better than Jason and worse than Dick. He had an unamused expression through most of the event, and would unceremoniously swat away any hands that tried to pinch his cheeks. Other than that, he wasn’t much trouble. The real trouble were galas all Wayne kids attended. The five of them could cause enough trouble when they were apart, together they were the embodiment of chaos.

And this was supposed to be a calm, slightly boring family evening. It really was.

But Bruce just had to bring all five of them.

Everything had to go just right. As they walked in through the red carpet, the media was eating up the image of the six Waynes dressed formally; Each of them had a tie color matching their hero uniform (a cheeky thing they enjoyed doing to play with the theorists minds), Dick had a dark blue one, Tim and Jason slightly varying tones of red, Damian had a green one and Bruce had a black one. Cass wore a long black dress that sparkled when it was hit by the light in just the right way.

The first sign was the reporter, who, while aggressively pointing a microphone in their faces, asked pushy questions about relationships and the like, nothing out of the ordinary, until he shoved it in Cass’ face and asked her if she could even speak. Jason almost broke the man’s nose. Bruce silently thanked God for Dick, who stepped in front of the man before that happened.

“Try some shit like that again pal, you’ll hear from our lawyers.” He led his sister inside, a protective hand on her back.

They calmed down. And Bruce still had hopes that this would be a quiet evening.

Looking back at it, he doesn’t know why.

Because as Dick and Cass were at the bar, ordering drinks, a woman stood next to them, trying to make small talk. Neither of them seemed too interested in her; she is a hassle at every gala, making weird advances on all of the boys. Today, however, she was a little more tipsy, and Bruce couldn’t quite make out what exactly the conversation was about, but Dick was clearly uncomfortable and Cass was fuming. The woman kept grabbing at him, sliding her hands over his tie, squeezing his arms. And then she squeezed his ass, and it took Cass less than a second to break her nose.

If they were any other family, Cass would have been thrown out of the party, but they were the Waynes, and you do not throw a Wayne out of a party. If she punched a middle-aged woman, then she punched a middle-aged woman. Bring her a glass of water and some ice for her injured hand.

Of course, it didn’t end there.

Bruce was still surprised he didn’t have gray hairs yet.

Because Damian had discovered and made friends with a stray cat in the garden, and Jason had a laser pointer, because of course Jason had a laser pointer, and the cat ended up knocking down not one, not two, but three expensive pieces of pottery, shattering them on the gravel floor. And when the house owner saw the damage, he turned pale and had to hold back his tears. Jason laughed.

“-tt-.” Damian stated, adjusting his suit “You owe that cat a favour,those vases ruined the garden’s aesthetic. Regardless, I’m sure father will be more than happy to compensate you for the damages.”

He walked back to the party slowly, passing by the man who would need some time to make it back.

Once Jason broke him the news, Bruce thought (and hoped) that that would be it.

But no, the night was young, and there was so much time left and the batsibilings for sure wouldn’t waste it.

The previous statement about sleep deprived Tim?

Well.

Tonight, he had to pick a fight with an essential-oil-loving, antivax mother. Simply because he liked to torture himself. And because nobody realised he was alone until Bruce spotted him in the crowd, eye twitching as a woman rambled about all the heavy metals and chemicals that vaccines had in them. He thought about getting to him, but he knew it was too late. There was no going back now.

“Well, you see Karen,” He started.

“Uuum, my name’s Patricia.” She interrupted.

“I’m a billionaire’s heir, I don’t give a shit.” He said “Anyways. As I was saying, the thing is, I’d rather take the chance of being injecting myself with mercury than, oh, I don’t know, get meningitis and fucking die?”

The circle went quiet. Another woman, wanting to dissipate the tension, tried to restart the conversation.

“I-I mean, I don’t understand why can’t they make something safer, right? Like, when we used to throw those smallpox parties, why won’t they make something that works like that? So that we can build a natural immunity instead of all of those chemicals.” She laughed awkwardly.

Tim slapped his own face so hard that it attracted a lot of eyes.

“How. Do. You. Think. Vaccines. Work. Susan?”

“M-my name is Mary.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” He answered. And just in time, Dick swooped in.

“Hey, Timmy!” He greeted “Can I borrow this guy for a second?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he guided Tim out to the garden.

“Fucking idiots.” He muttered “I don’t know how they have so much money. They’re all fucking idiots, Dick. I’m surrounded by dumbasses.”

“There, there.” He said “Okay, we’re far enough.” He looked around “Go ahead.”

And Tim let out the most horrendous, rage filled scream any of those guests had ever heard. Because of course they heard it. Bruce sighed and shrunk on his chair.

“Better?” Dick asked as he finished, patting his back.

“So much.” Tim answered.

“You should’ve slept a little before this.”

“No way. I’m totally fine.” He answered “I had three cans of monster before we left, so I feel great.” Dick raised an eyebrow, worried.

“Whatever you say, buddy.” He led him back inside, tidying up his brother’s hair “Just... No more picking fights with moms tonight, okay?”

And Bruce thought that was enough. Bruce was certain that this would be the last incident.

But his kids just loved proving him wrong.

He thought that the best strategy would be to ask them to stick together, so that Dick’s responsibility and social skills would keep his feral siblings under control. He should’ve known it would backfire.

The last he checked, they were making small talk with some CEOs on the edge of the room, away from the dance floor. Jason, Cass and Damian seemed completely bored, Tim was clenching his jaw for some reason, and Dick tried his best to look polished and polite.

“So, I heard that Wayne Enterprises have a new project?” One of them asked, chest so projected forwards it looked like it was about to explode.

“Yes. Yes we do.” Dick said, smiling politely “We’re opening up a refugee housing program.”

“Oh, so that’s what those buildings are for?”

“Yes, exactly!” He exclaimed, opening his arms in a seemingly natural manner “We are building apartments to shelter them. It’s nothing fancy, but we can charge a cheaper rent than most, and not charge at all for the first six months, giving them a chance to properly establish themselves here.”

“Well, I must say,” Puffed up chest guy stated, “I can’t see why not to give them to good old Americans instead. There’s a lot of homeless people nowadays, you see.” He leaned forward as he talked.

Damian perked his head up, but didn’t say anything. Cass and Jason seemed to be listening. Tim’s left eye twitched.

“Actually,” Tim started “The company has very stable, successful projects to help the homeless.”

“I’m familiar with those, yes.” He arrogantly dismissed the teen “But, you see, I just can’t understand why not open the housing to tax paying Americans instead of some...”

“Potential terrorists?” Damian suggested, arms crossed, scowl on his face.

“...Foreigners.” He completed.

“Well, since you ask, we are currently planning on the possibility of eventually opening vague apartments to Americans too.” Dick answered, swirling the liquid in his glass around “But the priority now really are the refugees.”

“I don’t see why can’t we prioritize our own people.” He insisted “I’m simply concerned for the well being of our poorest patriots.”

Dick blinked.

And here’s why Bruce should have known it would backfire.

Because, yes, Dick was able to cool them down...

But they were able to fire him up.

And so, like the charismatic man he was, he covered his nose a little, rubbing at the end, and faked a loud sneeze.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” He started “You see, I have this strange condition.” Dick stared at the man in the eye, the guy who had bought an old building people were squatting at, just to demolish it and doom them to the streets with no care or compensation, and, knowing this and so much more, said “I’m allergic to bullshit.”

And his siblings went feral again.

Tim and Jason screamed an ‘Oooooooooh!’, Damian pointed at the man and laughed loudly, and Cass snorted, covering her mouth in surprise.

Dick didn’t break eye contact as he drank the last of his champagne.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” He said “I have to go look for better company.” Dick left the empty glass at the nearest table and adjusted his suit, smiling “Have a nice evening.”

As he walked away, the gang followed close behind, all of them very excited about how Dick, the composed, calm, cool, polite and polished Dick Grayson-Wayne, had just burned a millionaire in front of his economic allies. As the party reached Bruce, the man once again seemed to sink into his chair. Dick sat next to him, radiating confidence and charm.

“Do I wanna know?” The man asked.

“No,” Dick answered, grinning but not looking at the man “No you don’t.”

[thebluenebula]

Masterlist

Day 5

Day 7 (Coming Soon)

The New Bat: Day 6

Ashleigh?" Bruce said as he gently shook me.

"Yeah?" I groaned, not completely awake.

"You still up to go shopping?"

"Yeah." I shot up. He was sitting on the edge of the bed beside me. "What time is it?"

"Ten. Don't worry you've got plenty of time to get ready." Bruce sniffed the air. "Is... Is that honey?"

"Don't ask." I quickly replied.

"Oh I already know." He smiled. "I'll get Alfred to throw on some breakfast for you. Any preferences?"

"I'm not hungry. Thanks." I stood up and started rummaging through my bags for some clean clothes.

"You sure?"

"Yeah." I looked at the clothes in front of me. It was one of those days were I didn't feel like wearing any of them.

Bruce headed for the door. "Kate and I will be down in the front living room whenever you're ready."

He left and I quickly changed into some fresh clothes, then headed to the bathroom. I did what I came to do and headed down to the living room.

Bruce and Kate were sitting on the couch with Steph, Cass, and Harper standing in front of them. They greeted me as I entered.

"You ready to go?" Bruce asked.

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Right then. Everyone in the car."

We all got into a rather fancy looking car. Bruce driving, Kate in shotgun, Steph, and Cass behind them, and Harper and me in the back. Kate offered to let me sit in shotgun but I declined.

The car started off down the driveway. "Well this is already off to a better start then last time." Harper stated as we drove through the front gates.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, you haven't slugged me yet, so I'd consider that an improvement."

I giggled nervously. "Yeah I guess so. Sorry about that."

"Its fine. Didn't even bruise."

The banter comtinued as we drove but I was distracted looking out the window. This was my first time really seeing Gotham. It didn't look so bad. We passed through the city, eventually ending up on the outskirts again.

The car stopped outside a huge building, which I could only guess was a mall. "Alright." Bruce said. "We'll be back in like a hour."

Steph, and Cass shouted goodbye as they ran off into the mall. "See you in a while Ashleigh." Harper said as she got out.

"Bye." I waved as she walked off into the mall.

"You can move up if you want." Kate suggested.

"Oh yeah." I quickly hopped out and back in, now sitting behind Kate and Bruce.

"So what exactly are you looking for?" Bruce asked, as he began driving again.

"Sorry?" I replied, not realizing what he meant.

"Furniture. What furniture do you need?" He clarified.

I thought for a moment. "A wardrobe, a dresser, and maybe a bookshelf. If that's okay?"

"Of course." Bruce said. "It's you're room, you put what you want in it."

"How about a new bed?" Kate suggested. "A larger one maybe?"

"I kinda like single beds."

"Single it is then."

A couple minutes later, the car stopped outside of a huge furniture store. We headed inside and began browsing. "Wow, these are really expensive." I commented.

"Well they're my treat." Bruce said. "I'll pay for whatever you want."

"Then what was the point of giving me money?" I asked, confused.

"You can spend that afterwards in the mall."

"Thanks." I smiled.

"Don't mention it."

Together the three of us picked out a dresser, bed, wardrob, a pair of shelving units, and a pair of bedside lockers for my room. We paid, then headed back to the mall.

We stood inside the entrance of the mall. "So where to?" Kate asked.

"I don't know about you two but I want a coffee." Bruce said.

"I could go for one." Kate agreed.

"Is it okay if I just look around?" I asked.

"You're not on a leash Ashleigh. Do what you want." Bruce insisted. "We'll be in the coffee shop if you want us."

"We'll call you when we're done." Kate said. "I don't actually have you're number." She realized.

"I have it." Bruce confirmed to her, then turned to me. "You sure you got enough money?"

"Yes. Absolutely. Thank you."

"Then, we'll see you later." Bruce said as the two walked into the coffee shop.

I walked through the mall. I had a familiar feeling of unease. I used to get it when I'd visit the shopping centre back home. It's like unease mixed with excitement. I actually enjoy the feeling.

I browsed through some shops and spotted a couple of things that I liked but I didn't buy them. I was leaving the third shop when it hit me. For the first time in my life I didn't have to be picky on what I spent my money.

I went back in and bought a handful of things. As I walked out, for the second time, I ran into Harper. "Hey Ashleigh."

"Harper, hi."

"How was the furniture shopping?"

"Good. Yeah."

"You looking for anything in particular?" Harper asked, gesturing to the store

"No. Just... browsing."

"So whatcha got?" She pointed to my bag.

"Stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Stuff." I confirmed to her.

She nodded. "Can I see the stuff?"

"Sure." I opened the bag. A lava lamp, some string lights, and a photo frame sat inside.

"The string lights are nice."

"Yeah, they are." I pointed to her bag. "So what have you got?"

She took out a small leather jacket. "A new jacket plus some hair dye."

"Its lovely."

"Thank you."

"So what about the dye? You going for something different?"

"No it's the same."

My phone rang. "It's Bruce." I answered. "Hi."

"Hey Ashleigh."

"Hey. What's up?"

"Nothing. Kate and I just finished up our coffee. You okay?"

"Yeah I'm with Harper."

"Hi Bruce." Harper said loudly.

I put Bruce on loud speaker. "Hey Harper. You two want to meet at the food court?"

I looked to Harper. She nodded. "Sure Bruce."

"See you there." Bruce ended the call.

"We'll let's head to the food court." Harper stated.

We got to the food court and spotted Bruce and Kate sitting at a table. "So how's the shopping going?" Kate asked as we sat beside them.

"Good." We both replied.

"Get round to clothes shopping yet?" Kate asked me.

"Not yet." Admittedly I had forgot that that was the reason I had come.

"So what did you get?" Bruce asked curiously.

"Just stuff. Things."

"What about you Harper?" Kate asked.

"I got a jacket." She said, taking it out to show them.

"It's lovely." Kate commented.

"Very you, Harper." Steph said as she Cass sat down beside.

"Where have you two been?" Harper asked.

"We went across the street to the park." Steph said.

"So food?" Bruce asked.

A chorus of yes rang out. We ordered some food and chatted while we ate. About an hour later we split off again. Cass, Harper, and Bruce headed off to browse while Kate, Steph and I went off to do some clothes shopping. We were told to wait at the entrance when we were finished.

"So which store?" Steph asked.

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"Where did you usually get clothes?" Kate asked.

"Charity shops." I admitted.

Kate nodded. "I know this great thrift store in town. We can go check it another day if you want?"

"Sure."

"But for now we'll go into here " Kate grabbed my hand and we went into the nearest clothes store.

We must have spent hours wandering into different clothes stores. I got enough clothes to do me but I didn't buy anything to out of my comfort zone, mostly large figure hiding clothes. As much as I enjoyed wearing skirts and stuff, I wasn't entirely comfortable wearing them in front of people.

"You both got everything you wanted?" Kate asked as we left the last clothes store.

"Absolutely." Steph excitedly said, peering into her bag of clothes.

"Yeah." I agreed. Not technically true though.

We headed back to the entrance. Bruce and the girls were already waiting there. "Everyone ready to go?" Bruce asked.

"You guys go load up, I'll be back in just a minute." Kate shouted as she ran off.

"You heard her." Bruce said as we watched her curiously run into a shop.

We all threw our bags in the boot and got in. We waited a couple minutes and Kate hopped in the front holding a large bag, a goofy grin on her face.

"What's that?" Cass asked.

"A bag." Kate answered.

"We can see that." Harper said. "What's in the bag?"

Kate turned and looked out the window, seemingly ignoring the question.

The ride home was just the kids repeatedly asking Kate's what's in the bag. When we arrived home everyone grabbed their own bags and headed inside.

"Let me help you." Kate said as her and Bruce grabbed some of my bags.

"Got what you needed?" Bruce asked.

"Yes. Thank you."

"No problem. Just ask anytime you need to be run into town."

We headed inside and dropped our bags at the door.

"Hello Father." The kid, Damien, said as he walked towards us. "How was your trip?"

"Good." Bruce turned to me. "Ashleigh, this is Damien. Damien, Asheligh."

"Hi." I said.

"Hello." He said and turned back to Bruce. "Did you get the pet treats that I requested?

"Yeah." Bruce points to a bag. "In there."

Damien rummaged through the bag and ran off with a packet of pet treats. "Thank you, Father."

"You met the pets yet?" Kate asked.

"I met the cat." I replied, thinking back to that first day.

Bruce chuckled. "Dick told me about that. We've also got two dogs. Ace and Titus."

"I haven't seen them around."

"Ace spends a lot of time in the cave and Titus is usually wherever Damien is."

"I'll give you a hand up with these bags." Kate said.

"I can manage."

"Nah, I'll help." Kate grabbed some of the bags and quickly headed up the stairs.

"I guess she's helping." Bruce commented.

"I guess so." I grabbed the rest of my bags and followed her up. "Thanks again Bruce."

"No problem."

I entered my room and Kate was sitting on my bed holding the bag from earlier. I set down my bags by the ones she had brought up. "Hey."

Kate grinned. "Hi."

"Is something up?"

She held the bag towards me. "Take a look."

I looked the bag. Inside was a Lego set, the Batcave. I looked back at Kate in amazement. "Where'd you get this?"

"Found it on the back of a shelf in a store. I thought you'd like it."

I stopped myself from running forward and hugging her. "I love it. Thank you so much."

"Your welcome."

"I always wanted this, but by the time I could afford it I couldn't find it anywhere."

"Guess I got lucky."

"Yeah." I was still contemplating hugging her. Would she be okay with that? I mean she was totally okay with hugs yesterday, but would it be weird for me to just hug her randomly. I really should figure out this families opinions on random displays of affection.

"So you are you going to make it tonight or wait?" Kate asked, derailing my train of thought.

"Probably tonight." I admitted excitedly. "I have like no self control when it comes to stuff like this."

Kate giggled. "Maybe you'd like some help with it? Or even just some company while you do it?"

"Sure if you'd like."

"Yah." Kate hopped up. "Hold that thought." And she ran out of the room.

I watched the door curiously until Kate returned, holding a plate with two slices of the cake I had helped bake the night before, and two bottles of fizzy mineral. "Snacks." Kate smiled.

I gladly took my slice of cake and drink. "Thanks."

"So shall we get started?"

"Yeah." I carefully opened the box and dumped the contents out.

"So how does this work?" Kate asked looking at the pieces.

"You put them together?"

"I know that," Kate exclaimed. "I mean how does it work with two of us."

"Oooh. I don't know actually."

"You build and I hand you the pieces." Kate suggested.

"Or one of us could build the cave, and the other the vehicle." I suggested.

"Sounds good. Which is more substantial?"

"Definitely the cave." I quickly replied.

"Then you take that one."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Absolutely."

Two hours, a couple slices of cake, and a pair of fizzy drinks later, and it was complete.

"And now for the most important part." Kate said as she placed the Batwoman figure on the center catwalk.

"Is that why you chose this one?"

"I couldn't just let you not have a Batwoman figure." Kate stated smiling.

"Does this mean I have to get you one with Nightwing in it?" Dick joked, standing in the open doorway. "Alfreds putting on supper. Want some?"

"No thanks." Kate and I said in unison.

"I see you two already ate." Dick said pointing to the cake covered plate.

I yawned. "Are you tired?" Kate asked.

I nodded. They looked at me curiously. "It has been a long day." Dick said.

"You want us to leave so you can sleep?"

"If you dont mind." I replied.

"Of course not."

"You sure you're alright?" Dick asked.

"Of course, it's just... been a long day."

The two left the room leaving me alone. I threw on a baggy t-shirt and and pair of shorts and jump into bed. A couple minutes later I heard a knock at my door. I sat up. "Come in."

"Hey." Bruce said, as he entered and shut the door behind him. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"You just seem to be tired a lot."

"I- I haven't been sleeping well."  I admitted.

"Nightmares?"

"No. I haven't had any since I arrived." Well that's not entirely through but I haven't had one the last couple of nights. "I just... wake up a couple times a night. It takes a while to get back to sleep each time."

"If it's the bed, you can stay in another room."

"No, it's not the bed."

"Then what?"

I sighed. "I don't know."

"That's okay. If you want I can stay with you?" Bruce offered.

I really would love for him to stay but I wouldn't admit that. "No thanks, I'll be fine."

"I'm sure Dick or Kate would be willing to, if you want someone to stay?"

"I'm fine. I promise. It's probably just... You know, new place."

Bruce stood up. "If you say so, but the offer will always be there." He gentle pushed me down. "Get some rest."

"Thanks Bruce. Goodnight."

He stood up. "Goodnight Ashleigh."

Every part of my mind wanted him to come back. To tuck me in. To lie in beside me. To hug me. To gently kiss my forehead. To show me more affection. But I didn't ask, I just watched as the door shut.

[violetsmoak]

Tabula Rasa [2/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20183281/chapters/47822500

Blanket Disclaimer:

Summary: Tim and Jason have known they are soulmates for years, though neither has said anything about it. Tim thinks Jason doesn’t know, and is just trying to live with it. Jason thinks Tim knows but doesn’t care, which is fine with him, he thinks the soulmate thing is a crock anyway. But one night, a minor mishap forces them to confront the issue head-on, leading to a series of events no one could have predicted.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #bright vivid colours #danger #enemies to lovers #soulmate aversion #soulmark tattoo

First Chapter

Beta Reader: I’ll get back to you on that.

________________________________________________________________

Tim is exhausted.

It’s not the semi-permanent fatigue he’s been living with ever since becoming a vigilante, the ‘constantly tired about something’ background noise of his life. It’s more of an utter doneness with everything.

His head is pulsing like someone took an icepick to his left eye and punched through to his brain stem, and he’s got a bit of fever. Damian’s cat bit him in the early hours of dawn when he stopped by the Cave to drop off some intel. It’s taking his antibiotics longer to kick in than he’d like.

He’s been in meetings since seven this morning discussing the next year’s budget, sitting across the boardroom from the old guard of shareholders and Bruce. Bruce, who’s been attending more of these meetings in the past month with the implied goal of scrutinizing every move Tim makes. He spent hours today grilling Tim on every judgment call, made him argue for every cent of allocated funds and second-guessed projects months in the making.

And then the board members—even those who disliked Bruce—joined in and it was like a fucking ambush.

Tim didn’t even have someone in his corner to give him five minutes of breathing room, and he’s never missed Tam so much as at that moment. But she asked to transfer to a different department not long after the whole faking her father’s death thing. Tim doesn’t want to call her in for matters he should be able to handle himself.

Kon’s canceled their plans to hang out this weekend because he forgot his and Cassie’s anniversary. It was meant to be a videogame and junk food fueled marathon, and Tim had been looking forward to it for two weeks now. It’s the third time this month they’ve had to call rain check.

Though to be fair the last two instances were because I got dragged into something Bat related and time-sensitive.

At this point, all he wants it to get home, eat a whole pizza himself and sleep for at least eight hours. He’s even picking out toppings as he heads for his car in the employee parking lot.

So, of course, that’s when the notification system on his phone chimes. Patched into the GCPD frequencies, he’s informed that Killer Croc is rampaging in the University District.

And at City Hall?

Crash!

And apparently now in the WE Building.

“What the hell?”

The lingering staff members scream and flee to their offices, barricading themselves in as the growling, pebble-skinned thing bursts out of the nearby stairwell.

Okay, that’s not Killer Croc, but it looks a heck of a lot like him. Maybe shorter.

The elevator bell dings, opening on an empty car, drawing the snarling man-shaped beast’s attention. It makes an immediate run for Tim, who backs into the elevator and glances upward; there’s a cage across the ceiling to block access to the ceiling panels, the spaced between the metal lats wide enough to reach his fingers through.

He bends and jumps up, swearing at the bite of metal as he grabs hold of the grille, just as the creature barrels into the elevator. Tim uses the momentum to plow his knee into the creature’s jaw.

Its head snaps backward, blood spraying as it bites down on its tongue, but it doesn’t pass out as Tim had hoped. Right as it’s gearing up to take another run at Tim, there’s thwip! sound and two darts lodge themselves in its throat from somewhere outside.

The croc-person goes rigid and passes out. A moment later, Bruce strolls down the hallway toward him as casually as if he’s heading to dinner. He folds a compact knockout dark gun back into his breast pocket. Luckily for them, all of the doors remain shut tight and there are no windows for the other employees to see any of this.

“What did you hit him with?” Tim wants to know.

“Carfentanil,” Bruce replies, stepping over the unconscious body and reaching for the thumbprint scanner at the bottom of the elevator panel. “Lucius will see to that one.”

He engages the override to skip every floor on the way down to the sub-basement.

“What’s going on?”

“Based on Batgirl’s intel, some idealistic grad student wanting to change the world. She believed the best way to kick-start the proletarian revolution was to mix Waylon Jones’ DNA with a version of Langstrom’s prototype serums, test it out on the homeless and then release them in various locations considered to be bourgeoisie strongholds of Gotham.”

Tim blinks at that. “Eat the rich?”

“Somehow I doubt that’s what Rousseau meant.”

The elevator vibrates as it speeds downward, and Bruce considers Tim out of the corner of his eye. “How long has it been since you slept?”

Twenty-three hours.

“I’m fine, B.”

“You were nodding off during the presentation by Powers Tech.”

“Because Warrick Powers is a pedantic drone that’s rehashing all of the same proposals he made last month. Even you were playing Candy Crush on your phone for half of it.”

Bruce’s expression doesn’t change. “Anyone going out tonight has to be at their best. Killer Croc is a challenge on a good day, but Oracle’s saying there have been a dozen sightings of these hybrids—”

“All the more reason you need me out there,” Tim cuts him off. As the door to the elevator opens, he strides away before Bruce can offer reason he doesn’t want Tim going out tonight. He’s been questioned enough today at work, he refuses to be called out on his night job.

Things go from weird to complicated to unbelievable within hours. As it turns out, Killer Croc is involved…but he’s working with them for once. Red Hood’s voice comes over the comms early on to caution everyone not to go after him unless he makes a move on a civilian.

“Arsenal vouches for him,” he insists, and things are so crazy no one has time to argue with him. Everyone separates into their various zones, though corralling the croc-man-bat hybrids often has them overlapping with one another.

It takes all night.

By the time the last of the test-subjects has been subdued, ready for transport to a treatment facility, dawn is just peeking over the edges of the buildings. Tim’s body aches like one big bruise. He’s got something bigger than a cat bite that needs treatment, and if his head hurt before, now it’s like his brain is bubbling out of his skull.

Everyone has checked in, which is a relief, but everyone sounds like they’ve been put through the wringer. Those that Tim can see look even worse.

Batman is on the ground, conversing with Commissioner Gordon, and from the way he’s standing, it’s clear he’s taken some damage to his ribs. On a rooftop in the distance, Tim can see Robin with his arms crossed, cape in ruins and shoulders hunched inward. He doesn’t have to see the kid’s face to know he’s scowling. Beside him, Red Hood is laughing, helmet missing and body armor ratty and torn. Tim taps his visor to magnify his vision. Hood’s entire left arm-sleeve is gone, along with the gauntlet, and he’s bleeding from a wound above his bicep.

But he doesn’t seem bothered by it. He even reaches out to ruffle Robin’s hair, then easily dodges the knife the kid swipes at him. There’s a flicker of relief that flits through Tim to see him unharmed.

Despite their past, despite the fact Jason avoids him, Tim still tries to stay hopeful about the whole thing. It’s possible things will get better and they can be friends one day, or at least tolerate each other in the way Jason and Damian do. He could handle that.

“Well that was fun,” Steph groans, dropping down beside Tim on his chosen rooftop. “I need to sleep for the next six weeks, though.”

“What are you, a groundhog?” Duke quips, alighting on the other side of him.

“If it gets me out of midterms, hell yes. Just…not the same day over and over thing.”

“I don’t understand,” Cass sighs. “Either of you.”

The usual post-Arkham-level emergency banter starts up, all snarky jokes and witty rejoinders and Tim’s just…not in the mood.

“I’ve got a final sweep to do before turning in,” he mutters. He doesn’t care if anyone hears him as he hops over the edge of the building and grapples away. There’s some chatter and questions in his ear, but he ignores it.

His adrenaline from the night’s activities is dropping, and the exhaustion he was experiencing earlier in the day is hitting him like a Mac truck. He doesn’t even want the pizza anymore, just the sleep.

There’s a dreamlike quality to the way he sways through the air like he’s not actually present in the moment. Perhaps he’ll skip the last leg of patrol too, tonight. And he can write the incident report up tomorrow, and—

Right as he hits the highest arc of his swing, there’s a snap and sudden give to his line.

It should be an automatic thing, hauling out his redundant grapple gun and fixing it to a new anchor point. This is all about timing, a practiced movement all of them trained for before Bruce even let them out of the cave.

And yet.

It’s as if time slows for just a moment.

As if he has all the time in the world to contemplate the intricacies of each separate action, the pull of his muscles and movements of his fingers. Or even the ramifications of simply letting himself fall.

For that one moment, Tim isn’t Red Robin or Tim Drake-Wayne or any number of things he’s supposed to be, he’s just. There. Existing in a void of sound and sensation, adrenaline blocking it all out, weightless and empty.

Floating.

A sudden desperate wish hits him to freeze everything like this, at this high-point forever. To stay forever frozen in the peace of a not-quite-flight.

Gravity pulls at him then, making his stomach flip, and he reaches for the redundant grapple, even as he realizes he’s too slow. The air rushes past him, the ground rises to meet him and he’s still drawing out the line, and it will be too late—

As he’s about to hit to point of no return, something clasps around his arm and yanks. Someone wrenches Tim up and forward, a hand grasping his whole forearm in a vicelike grip and it’s reflex for his fingers to clasp around it. Warmth tingles in his fingers and radiates the entirety of his arm, like laying his hand on his own personal sun. As they swing through the air, Tim’s eyes fall upon the literal lifeline that saved him.

The first thing he sees is a swirl of red and gold, the familiar winding knotwork pattern of his soulmark.

Except it’s not his.

Jason’s left arm and shoulder are bare, the mark blossoming seemingly out of nowhere halfway up his forearm. But Tim recognizes the uneven streak of hastily applied cover-up from wrist to elbow-crease—because it turns out, Jason covers his mark at all times as Bruce does.

The warmth in Tim’s hand and arm grow, stretching tendrils of heat through his body, but it burns the most where he and Jason touch. Steph once described the sensation as a lock and key interlinking, and he finally understands because there is a very physical click inside him, like tumblers slamming into place.

It’s distantly familiar, and he wonders if he might have experienced this before, but couldn’t focus on it due to being bleeding out at the time. The way their marks reach and wind about each other now, Tim doesn’t believe there’s any way for it to be ignored anymore.

His heart flutters at the idea.

Then Jason is swinging them to the nearest rooftop and abruptly lets Tim go, snatching his hand back the instant his boots hit the gravel. Tim stumbles forward, barely stopping himself from tumbling to his knees from the momentum.

He skids around to face Jason, who is already turning away, shielding the mark. When he faces Tim again, the colors recede once more beneath the spray cover-up.

“Geeze, Replacement. You gettin’ enough sleep?” he asks lightly, mouth crooked. “You almost let yourself become pavement art.”

Tim blinks, still a little lost in his head.

“I mean, I’m sure you could have engaged those tacky wings of yours before the worst happened, but cuttin’ it kind of close, don’t ya think?”

Tim’s not really thinking anything. His eyes are on Jason’s arm, where the colors of his mark have already slipped away. Because Jason is putting a very conspicuous space between them. And asking something inane, as if he’s trying to distract him.

Which he shouldn’t be doing.

He saw the mark. He would have felt what Tim felt. It should be a shock, he should be confused or angry or surprised—

Tim freezes in realization.

“You’re not surprised,” he says, the words somehow disconnected from his mouth.

“Surprised about what?”

Tim bristles at Jason’s feigned ignorance now, indignation rekindling some of his spark. “Seriously? You’re just going to—you’re really going to pretend we both didn’t see that? That we both don’t know…?”

“I think that fight rattled you,” Jason says, slow and placating. “How many times did you get hit in the head tonight?”

“You didn’t even flinch!” Tim snaps, taking a step forward. “If you hadn’t known, it would have surprised you! You might have dropped me, or yelled, or…”

Jason is backing away now, not even trying to disguise his intention and Tim darts forward, hand snatching to grab hold of Jason’s wrist. Incredible gold and deep scarlet bands of color creep up his left arm, threading along the capillaries of his skin, connecting the freckles and scars across his bare arm. There’s a corresponding warmth in Tim’s right wrist and arm.

Before either design can fully manifest, though, Jason snatches his hand back and punches Tim in the chest.

“I’m not a fan of handsy guys,” he says, though his joke is lost in the ice of his tone.

Tim barely reacts to the blow, because he’s had worse from Jason, and right now, he’s honestly too furious to register it.

“You knew the whole time, didn’t you?” he accuses.

“Knew what—?”

“Don’t! Don’t lie! You’ve known—you had to have known ever since the day we met, at the Tower!” There is no argument this time, only a head-on gaze. “And you never said anything.”

“Well, it’s not like you did either,” Jason defends, discomfort coloring each word.

And there’s the confirmation; it’s more of a blow to the gut than Jason’s punch. It’s an aching, gnawing hurt, and Tim tries to tamp it down, tries to focus more on the simmering rage that is welling up alongside it.

“Because I didn’t think yours had activated,” he manages to get out. “At the time I didn’t think you were capable of…I thought if I said anything, you’d…you hated me then, and—” Comprehension smacks into him. “That’s why you didn’t bring it up, isn’t it? And then the other night, when I said all that. About soulmates. You knew what I thought about it, and that’s why you didn’t say anything.”

Jason coughs, backing away again. “Okay, glad we cleared that up.”

“If you’d said something—if you’d even acknowledged it, maybe—”

“‘Maybe’ what?” Jason challenges. “We’d magically be on track for a house and picket fence and adopting our own passel of neglected orphans?”

“Wait!”

“Yeah, no, I’m over this—”

“Jason, don’t—” He reaches out once more, hand clamping down on his shoulder and in his madness, he’s forgotten everything he knows about Jason and personal space. It all comes back in a rush when he’s suddenly staring down the barrel of a gun.

“I said I’m done,” Jason growls, and Tim swallows reflexively.

Slowly, carefully, he takes a step back.

Jason doesn’t move right away, simply stares at him, then the gun in his hand, which he lowers after a breath.

The tension doesn’t leave his shoulders though.

“This whole soulmate thing is some bullshit,” Jason snarls at last. “I hope you’ve got another option on the other arm, Drake, because I ain’t it. And I want shit-all to do with you. Follow me, and I’ll shoot you.”

He leaps from the building, and a beat later Tim watches him swing away between the skyscrapers.

It takes a while to remember how to breathe, more because of the crushed glass sensation in his throat than of any fear Jason would have shot him.

The rejection isn’t unexpected.

Honestly, it’s like a door being closed on something he hoped for even when he tried not to. There’s a finality to it that should be cathartic even.

It doesn’t hurt any less.

Well. At least now I know for sure.

Really, it’s a relief. He knew Jason didn’t like him, but he kept fooling himself with hope and occasional daydreams. And now he can’t anymore, and that’s that. It isn’t like losing Robin or no one believing him about Bruce or butting heads with Ra’s; those had workarounds. This, though, soulmates…it’s not something that can be learned or memorized or forced into being.

Time to move on.

Because Tim doesn’t get to be happy.

Body on autopilot, he returns to the Nest and sees to any obvious wounds. He concentrates on careful stitching, and then on meticulously writing up his report on the night’s events. No need to mention his argument with Jason. Tonight’s going to take his strongest sleeping pills and painkiller, he decides, the kind that will keep him from dreaming.

He considers not setting an alarm for the next morning—surely he deserves a day off, doesn’t he? Considering everything that’s happened today?

No. That would make it too easy to dwell on this, to mope. Work will keep him busy.

And he has to stay busy.

He’s meticulous about following his routine for the next few days. Immersing himself in new product designs, revising by-laws, defending more of his decisions from Bruce’s nitpicking, volunteering down at the Neon Knights shelters. He visits the remaining Titans, spends time with old school friends in Gotham and goes through the motions with his family. Outwardly it’s working but it all seems…hollow. It doesn’t sit right. Something is missing and he knows exactly what it is but can’t do anything about it.

With every fake smile and encounter with the paparazzi, always being the reliable one and having to think and plan everything through to the tiniest detail. It’s exhausting as ever.

And by night, he throws himself into every fight that comes his way.

He very deliberately avoids looking for Jason.

And it’s fine.

Really.

But at the oddest moments of the day, either at work or diving into the middle of a brawl, he remembers that crystalline moment, just after his line missed. When he was just…floating.

Tim knows that’s not a good sign, knows that he isn’t in the best headspace right now. He thinks of reaching out to Dick, the way he always does when it gets bad. He wants to tell him everything that’s going on with his day and night work, wants to admit the truth about his soulmate���

Then he remembers Dick is on his honeymoon and he doesn’t want to bother him and Barbara over this. So he heads to the manor because Alfred is always a willing ear and wise counsel. And Bruce might be making his life misery at work, but he can always be counted on to have some cases that could benefit from a second pair of eyes.

Except when he gets there, Damian informs him that Alfred is driving Bruce to some political fundraiser.

“It seems you made a wasted trip, Drake. Perhaps next time call ahead and spare yourself the trouble,” he drawls from his seat at Bruce’s desk where he’s sketching, Titus curled at his feet. The dog lifts his head and wags his tail when he sees Tim, but otherwise doesn’t move. “I’d show you to the door, but that would require me to care.”

“Always a pleasure, demon boy,” Tim sighs and sets off down the hall. He decides to take a nap in his old room; at least here the place isn’t as empty as his apartment. Damian might not be the best company, but he’s another human being within his vicinity.

Sort of.

As it turns out, Cass is still home. He can hear her laughing at something in the family room, followed by Steph’s familiar guffaws. As he passes by, he sees that they’re curled up together on the couch, arguing over the Netflix selection.

Steph catches sight of him and calls out. “Hey! When did you get here, Former Boy Wonder?”

“Uh, ten minutes ago,” he replies, leaning against the doorframe. It hits him immediately that he’s just interrupted a date night, so he doesn’t make a move to enter.

However, Cass’s all-seeing eyes rove over him and she purses her lips.

“Come and sit,” she tells him. “We have Krispy Kreme.”

“And Cass bought ketchup chips at her layover in Montreal.”

Normally the lure of donuts and chips would have him vault across the room and settle on the couch, but tonight the idea of food makes his stomach rebel.

“I might just go get some coffee,” he replies, trying to back away.

“Do that later,” Cass orders. “Stay for a bit.”

“I don’t want to interrupt anything…”

“You’re not interrupting anything,” Steph rolls her eyes. “Except our weekly argument about what we should watch. Besides, we haven’t seen you since the croc-mutants thing.”

“How’s your head?” Tim asks, giving a mental sigh of defeat and shuffling into the room. Steph sustained a pretty bad concussion that day.

 “Still having dizzy spells and can’t move too fast,” she replies. “The ushe.”

Tim doesn’t take a seat on the couch, though, instead sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table and dutifully taking a handful of chips. They don’t taste like anything.

Cass is frowning at him. “You okay?”

“Just tired,” Tim says, forcing what he hopes is a comforting smile. It’s not a lie, not really, but he doesn’t intend to tell her exactly what’s making him tired.

Cass accepts it, though she continues to eye him with concern. He does his best to distract her by suggesting a film he knows both of them hate, forcing another round of arguments about viewing choices.

They really don’t seem to mind him being there, and for a little while, everything’s alright. They throw popcorn at each other and complain about Bruce’s uptightness and gossip about their respective villain drama and mock each other for failing at their New Years Resolutions after only three weeks. 

Eventually the girls become engrossed in the movie. Of course, it’s one of the token soulmate plotlines that he immediately skips over on the rare nights he has time to watch television. And Tim becomes more and more conscious of how Steph and Cass lean into one another. Cass’s fingers run through Steph’s hair and Steph hides her face in Cass’s neck when a truly cringe-worthy sappy scene comes up.

They look so…content.

Happy.

At peace.

I’m never going to have that, Tim realizes and it’s this that makes his stomach twist, want to throw up and scream and cry.

Because he’s always been alone, but there’s always been that lingering hope that one day he wouldn’t be. That even if it wasn’t a romantic soulmate relationship, he’d still have someone.

Everyone he has loved has left him behind; even the one person in the world who was never supposed to.

“What would you have done?” he finds himself asking, staring at the screen where the male and female lead are mired in their stereotypical big-misunderstanding-fueled fight. They hurl words at each other that they obviously don’t mean but were clearly written to be devastating.

Cass and Steph look up, both somewhat startled by his question.

“What would we have done for what?” Steph wonders.

“If Cass had hated you. Or if Steph had hated you.”

Both their faces go blank. Cass’s mouth turns downward as if she is puzzling out a difficult question, while Steph shudders. “I can’t even imagine it.”

“Me neither,” Cass adds.

Tim hums, having expected that answer even if it doesn’t help him.

“Hey—what are you so worried about?” Steph asks, nudging his shoulder with her foot. “It’s a big world. It’s not your fault or the end of the world that your soulmate died.”

 Tim’s hand strays to his wrist. He’s covered it up around anyone in the Family since he woke up and learned that Jason Todd had almost killed him. As far as Steph or anyone in the family is concerned, he no longer has a mark.

“You can still have fulfilling relationships,” Steph goes on. “You know, if you get over your secretive and control-freak ways and your tendency to eat Hawaiian pizza.”

Tim snorts. “Says the girl who would eat waffles every meal of the day.”

“Hey, that’s a valid meal choice—do you realize how many different types of savory waffles are out there?”

“No wonder you’re beginning to spill out of your uniform,” Damian’s voice disdains from the doorway. Titus lopes at the boy’s heels. “You and Cain have been colonizing the couch for three hours now. I intend to play Inquisition without your hovering, so leave.”

“You mean you intend to spend three hours on character creation before getting stuck in the Hinterlands for the next week and finally throwing the controller at the screen in frustration and not touching the game again for another month?” Tim asks.

“If I want your input, Drake, I’ll—” Damian considers. “I’ll never want your input. Now shut up and stay out of it. Brown, I demand you all vacate the room immediately or I will force you to.”

“Rude.”

“Eleven televisions on this floor,” Cass adds. “One in your room, even.”

“This one has the best resolution for gaming. You go to one of the other ones. You’re not doing anything important in here.”

“There’s nothing more important than Netflix and chill with the boo,” Steph replies. She’s playing with her phone and then chuckles, angling it so Cass can see, earning a bright laugh in return.

Damian looks disgusted. “I sincerely hope when I meet my soulmate, I am not so ridiculous about it as you two, or Grayson.”

“We are not ridiculous,” Cass replies. “We are normal.”

There’s immeasurable pleasure in that word; Tim knows it’s not often she gets to use it in relation to herself. Once again he thinks himself a complete tool for being jealous of her and Steph.

“Hopefully I will take after Father,” Damian continues, sitting in the armchair across from them.

“Emotionally stunted and anal-retentive?” Steph suggests, earning snorts of laughter from everyone but the blood scion of Wayne.

“In terms of soulmates,” Damian emphasizes; Tim notices he didn’t bother correcting Steph’s assessment of Bruce. “I will not make a total fool over the person I have been assigned.”

“First of all, soulmates aren’t assigned,” Steph says, “and second, B is totally foolish over Selina. Why else does she never get sent to jail? And what do you call Alfred putting up with his bull after all these years?”

“Tt. Perhaps you have a point.” Damian seems to reconsider, before glancing at Tim with a frown.  “I suppose in this, you’ve had some luck, Drake.”

That brings him up short, both the implied compliment and the sentiment behind it. “…How?”

“Your soulmate is dead.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence in the room.

“Damian!” Steph cries, sitting up and dislodging Cass’s fingers to stare at him in horror. “You can’t say stuff like that!”

“Why not? It’s true.”

Now would be the time to correct everyone. Tim doesn’t bother.

“That’s not—I meant you shouldn’t wish your soulmate was dead, especially since you haven’t even met them yet.”

“I hope I never do,” Damian insists. “Look at Drake—his soulmate cannot be exploited as a weakness by some clever criminal. He will never have to lie about his identity if the individual turns out to have questionable morals—consider how long Father was forced to hide his identity from Catwoman. And Drake is now free to pursue or avoid any relationship he wishes, without having to worry it will be interrupted by the untimely arrival of a soulmate.” His expression smooths a little, becoming more thoughtful than petulant. “He is free in a way none of us are.”

Cass tilts her head to one side. “That is oddly…insightful of you.”

“And really kind of depressing,” Steph groans.

“And my cue to leave,” Tim says, standing. He forces an easy tone. “If Damian starts envying me, the Apocalypse must be about to start. I should get an early start to patrol just in case.”

“No, Tim! Stay—see what you did, Damian? Apologize.”

“That’s not happening.”

“It’s fine,” Tim dismisses, already leaving the room. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Be careful,” Cass cautions, her tone somehow knowing.

Tim flees before she decides to really focus on him, but not before Steph can hurry out after him.

“Hey, ignore what he said,” his ex-girlfriend says, looking both worried and intent at the same time. “He’s never had a soulmate, so he doesn’t understand how serious it is to say something like that.”

“No…it’s actually fine,” Tim assures her.

In fact, far from being insulted by Damian’s words, Tim finds himself latching on to them and the logic they represent. The last thing he wants to be is that cautionary tale, like the kid people pity who shuts down his whole life because their crush didn’t like them back.

“Are you sure?” Steph asks. “Because Cass is right, you don’t look okay tonight.”

“I really am just tired,” he insists once again. “I think I’ll skip patrol tonight. Get some sleep.”

She lets out a relieved puff of breath. “Well, that’s something at least.”

“Enjoy your movie—or your impending war with Damian over rights to the family room. Whatever.”

“Oh, he’s in for it if he tries,” Steph smiles a truly fiendish smile, similar to the one she turns on criminals before she breaks their jaw. “Night, Tim.”

“Night.”

He continues on his way to his room, while Steph turns back to the family room. She pauses though, and says, “I was thinking…if she did? Hate me, I mean?”

Tim turns his head to acknowledge her.

“I’d probably still stick around nearby,” Steph says; she rubs at her shoulder, clearly discomfited by the idea. “Just to make sure she was happy, I guess? It’d give me peace of mind, even if I couldn’t be with her. You know?”

Tim’s carefully maintained façade of functionality wavers a little. His eyes soften a bit and he offers Steph a small smile. “I do. Good thing you’ll never have to worry about that, right?”

“Yeah…”

They exchange bittersweet smiles for a moment. Tim bets she’s remembering the day it became clear she and Tim wouldn’t ever be anything more than friends. Then Steph disappears into the family room.

Tim strolls down the corridor to his quarters, frowning with a new resolve. He doesn’t have it in him to stick around and make sure Jason is alright and happy; he can’t even think about the situation without the growing lump in his throat slicing into him.

So, it’s best to focus on filling his life with other pursuits.

From that point on, he renews his goal to immerse himself in work.

WE by day and Red Robin by night. He loads up case after case, reasoning his way through elaborate mental games with villains and rogues, and sends in work for his correspondence courses at Ivy University.

He exists on coffee and sleeping pills and four hours of sleep a night, but he’s too exhausted to fixate, and that’s the important part.

⁂⁂⁂

Next Chapter

This blog isn’t my primary, so my reblogs don’t show up very well. As such, please reblog the fic, otherwise not a lot of people are going to see it :)

<3 Violet

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

Keeping Up With The Winchesters

Part 3

Summary: After they keep meeting frequently, Sam suggests that they work together, but Dean and Hope hate the idea.

KUWTW Masterlist.

Taglist.

Word Count: 2100.

“Hope, wake up! It’s 3 in the afternoon” Grace opened the curtains.

“Hmmm… close the curtains, now!” Hope demanded.

“Not before you wake up”.

“Fine, fine. I’m up. I deserve some sleep, because unlike you, I stay up all night doing research or searching for a case, while you screw around with guys” Hope whined.

“I told you more than once to go get some, but you refuse. It’s not my fault” Grace defended.

“You know it’s not my thing. Besides, if I did what you do every night, then there wouldn’t be cases to solve or a way to kill a creature”.

“Yeah, but it won’t hurt if you just tried once or twice. Come on, it’s been years”.

“Don’t go there. Don’t drag him into this!” Hope warned and got off of bed. She went to the bathroom, got some clothes on and headed to get some coffee.

“I found a case. It’s strange. There’s a man whose heart jumped 10 feet out of his chest. A couple of days later, a man committed suicide but witnesses swore that they saw him float in mid air for 10 seconds before falling to his death. There was another weird incident today. A bank has been robbed, but there was a massive bloody mass. Sounds like our kind of strange” Hope informed Grace.

The girls collected all the information they needed before heading to the old people’s home to interrogate them.

“So, how are we gonna do this?” Hope asked.

“Just leave it to me. I’ll do the talking, you do the writing” Grace said.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Tate. We’re from the FBI and would like to ask you a couple of questions about the robbery if you don’t mind” Grace lied.

“The FBI? I- I just talked to the FBI” the woman looked confused and so did Grace, before Hope nudged her to look at the direction of the famous hunters.

“Oh!”.

“I’m gonna go talk to them” Hope was annoyed by their presence.

“Hope, no, wait, I’ll- excuse me Mrs. Tate”.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the famous Winchester brothers” Hope approached them.

“Ugh, not again!” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Hope! What are you doing here?” The younger Winchester asked.

“Apparently, same as you. Unless, you’re here to visit some family member”.

“So, you heard about the weird things that’s been happening around here”.

“Yup. Question for you two: why do we always seem to end up working on the same case?” Hope questioned.

“Maybe, ‘cause you’re stalking us” Dean joked.

“In your dreams, Winchester. Maybe it’s the other way around”.

“I really don’t have an answer” Sam said.

“Hey, guys! Hope, can I talk to you for a second?” Grace greeted.

“Not after I get answers. Where were you the past year? Oh, right you were in Purgatory. What about you Sam?” Hope interrogated.

“I was-“.

“He kinda retired. But, why now? I get it, you’re hunters and whatsoever but why are we seeing you now, not five years ago. Unless...”.

“We didn’t always hunt so far away from where we lived. We started small, just in our town. Then, areas around and states that are less than 6 hours away. Eventually, we decided to go all the way round. It was one and a half years ago, which explains why we haven’t seen you” Grace elaborated.

“Makes sense” Sam was convinced, while Dean still had suspicions.

“Are we good?” Grace wanted to make sure that everyone was on the same page.

“I still don’t trust them” Hope crossed her arms and Dean glared.

Hope turned around to see a man in a trench-coat talking to cat, or rather interrogating it.

“Uhm, Gracie, I-“ Hope was confused.

“Oh, this is Cass. He’s a friend of ours” Sam introduced.

“Cass as in Castiel, the angel. Am I right?” Hope was sure of it.

“Yeah, but he’s one of the good guys” Sam defended.

“Leviathans” Hope coughed.

“He wouldn’t say anything, but I’m sure with more time I can crack him” Cass walked up to the Winchesters and informed him, before he saw the two girls.

“I- uhm, was talking about the uhm” he thought they were workers and tried to find an excuse for what he just said.

“Cass, these are Hope and Grace. They are hunters” Sam introduced.

“Oh, apologizes” when he saw Hope he kinda recognized her or she reminded him of someone.

“Have we met before? I feel like I’ve seen you before” Hope asked.

“I- I don’t think so. I’d remember if we did, but it’s nice to meet you” he hugged her and she was surprised to how she should react.

“Cass, that’s not how you greet someone” Dean told him.

“Oh, it isn’t! Then, how?”.

“Shaking their hand or just with a nod. You don’t just hug someone you just met” Dean informed him.

“Hey, Dean! You remember a guy named Fred Jones? I think he was a contact of dad’s, lived outside of Salt Lake?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, that guy gave me my first beer. I don’t even think I was double digits” Dean remembered.

“Right. Yeah. Me too. Um, he was a psychic, right?”.

“Psychokinetic, why?”.

“‘Cause he’s in room 114”.

“Do you think he might have a connection to what’s been happening?” Grace asked.

“I don’t know, maybe! Let’s check him out”.

Dean and Sam tried to talk to him but he didn’t say a word. Dean hit himself with a book and they heard birds noises.

“Bingo”.

“But how?” Cass was confused.

“Fred’s got juice. I mean, an average psychokinetic can move things with his mind, but a guy like Fred, you get him worked up, he can reshape reality” Sam informed them.

“Great!” Hope wasn’t amused.

“All right, so where’s his “off” switch?” Dean questioned.

“I don’t know. I’m not even certain if he knows we’re here” Sam said.

“Even greater!” Hope commented.

“Do we... kill him?” Cass didn’t know what to do with him.

“Excuse me, agents! Did he just threaten to murder one of my patients?” The doctor asked, before kicking them all out.

“Real freaking smooth” Dean was a bit mad at Cass.

“Well, we don’t have to leave him. I could teleport him” Cass suggested.

“Fred’s radioactive, Cass. Zap him, no telling what will happen”.

“Me and Sam will circle back tonight, get Fred nice and clean. You go invisible girl and keep an eye on him. You hear me?” Dean planned and Cass disappeared.

“Awesome! Out job here is done, let’s go” Hope was more than happy to leave.

“Hope, we-“.

“What, Gracie? You heard them. They got everything covered, there’s no need for us to stay here. It’ll be a waste of time.

“Wait a second. Cass just sent me a message, saying something urgent happened” Dean informed them.

“What the hell happened?” Dean asked once he saw a cake all over the place.

“There was a pastry mishap”.

“Okay, and?”.

“And the frosting reached near-supersonic speeds. I thought-“.

“Fred’s gone” Sam came rushing back from the room.

“Oh, fan-freaking- tastic. Way to take your eye off the ball” Dean got upset.

“Hey, take it easy!” Hope demanded.

“Hey, you’re not supposed to be here”a nurse said while helping Mrs. Tate.

“Charles, she’s wearing my diamonds”.

“Where did you get these?” Dean asked.

“My boyfriend gave it to me”.

Dean, Sam and Cass went to the boyfriend’s apartment, while Hope and Grace tried to locate Fred.

“Oh, this is getting frustrating! Where’d he disappear and who’d take him?” Hope asked herself. Then, Grace’s phone rang.

“Aha, okay! We’ll be on our way” as soon as Grace hung up, she got a look from Hope.

“It’s Sam. He said this was all Doctor Mahoney’s plan and now he’s heading to the bank again” Grace informed her.

“You gave Sam you’re number?” Hope raised her eyebrow.

“Is this all you received from what I said? To answer your question, yeah I did. In case of an emergency like this” she replied.

“You got here fast!” Hope expressed.

“Yeah. where’s your friend?” Dean asked.

“Went inside, to see if he’s still here, while I’m looking here”.

“Alright, Sam and Cass went to find Fred. I think it’s safe to say that doctor douche is still inside. Are you coming or you’re just gonna stand there and wait?” Dean offered.

“Unfortunately, I’m coming but for the sole reason of being impatient” Hope clarified.

“What’s up, doc?” Dean pointed a gun at the doctor.

“You let me walk and half of this is yours” he offered.

“I think I’m gonna pass. I’m not really into stealing from sweet old ladies” Dean clicked his tongue.

“What  he said” Hope added, still searching with her eyes for Grace.

“I’m not stealing from them, I’m stealing from their children. Little bastards think they can drop their folks off at a home and visit twice a year, maybe. I took care of all these old geezers. I think I deserve-” he explained.

“I don’t care!” Dean yelled and Hope jumped out of shock.

“Jeez! You scared the shit out of me” she put her hand on her beating chest.

“Fine. have it your way” the doctor threw papers at the both of them and tried to run away. Dean tried to shoot him, but instead of bullets, a flag with bang came out instead, just like in cartoons.

“Welcome to the fun house” he ran away and the both of them chased after him.

Dean jumped on him and the doctor hit him with a frying pan, while Hope watch in confusement.

The men kept fighting, until the doctor tried to escape through the black hole, but it didn’t work.

He then pulled a gun out of his jacket and pointed it at Dean.

“Hope, a little help here!” but she was nowhere to be found.

“Dammit! I should’ve expected it” Dean clenched his jaw. The doctor was about to shoot him, before Fred, sam and Cass entered and Fred made him shoot himself.

“What the hell happened?” Hope rushed back and a few seconds later, Grace followed with a bleeding head.

“You left me for dead, that’s what happened!” Dean was mad about it.

“I don’t see you dead and even if you were, I’m sure you would’ve come back. I went to see where Gracie was and for your information, that was before he tried to kill you. I saw you two fighting, I figured you’d win. How was I supposed to know that an old man is stronger than a hunter” Hope tried to hide her smile.

“Alright, alright, it’s over! Hope, Grace thank you for your help and I hope to see you around soon” Sam expressed.

“I on the other hand, don’t want that. Next time, you should call Gracie, since you have her number now and tell her which case you’re onto, so we’d look for another” Hope gave him a fake smile.

“I was going to suggest that we work together, to solve cases faster, but if that’s what yo-” Sam was interrupted by Grace.

“No, no, it’s fine. I actually like your idea. I think it’s more effective and much safer. I’d love to accept your offer if it still stands”.

“Yeah, of course” but before Sam could finish he got a look from Dean and Grace got one from Hope.

“If you could just excuse me for one second, I won’t be long” Grace grinned.

“How could you accept Sam’s offer before discussing it with me?”.

“Because I knew you’d refuse. Listen, Hope! They’re not as bad as you want them to be. They’re still good people, hunters, who are still trying to help people, just like you and I. This is not negotiable, we’re doing it! Besides, you won’t have to stay up all night alone doing research. You can even take a night off and get some rest” Grace elaborated.

“What the hell man?” Dean crossed his arms.

“I know you don’t trust them yet, Dean. But, I have a good feeling about this. On the bright side, we’d get to prove to them that we’re actually good people” Sam tried to convince his big brother.

“Whatever man! But when things go south, you know what’s gonna happen” Dean warned him.

“We’ve come to an agreement! Although, Hope is not very excited to work with you guys, she promised me to try and work things out”.

“Dean didn’t like the idea either, but he accepted it”.

“I think we have ourselves a deal” Grace shook Sam’s hand.

.Tags: @thisismysecrethappyplace @berruneko09

[awhitehead17]

That Was Unexpected

TimKon, Gymnastics AU, General rating. Humour, first meetings, no capes AU.

Summary: Kon learns not to judge a person by their looks and also learns to not get distracted when lifting weights. 

It was busier than he thought it would be. It was heading towards late evening when Conner and four others walked into the gym and because it was Friday night that meant most people were going to go out and get pissed so Conner was expecting the place to be nearly empty. He didn’t fancy going out that night and decided to go to the gym instead and after telling his mates where he was going for some reason they wanted to join him.

It was as soon as he walked through the main doors that he realised why his mates wanted to join him and why the gym was busier than he expected it to be. The local gymnastics team was in there doing what looked like a training session. The gym held a complete variety in equipment, so it wasn’t exactly strange to find gymnasts in here working on routines or something, he just didn’t think that they would be in on this day.

Conner and his mates start making their way through the gym and towards the weights side, along the way they pass most of the gymnasts. Behind him he can hear his friends make cat whistle noises and comments like “looking good ladies” and “hey gorgeous why don’t you show me how flexible you really are.” Conner just rolls his eyes and ignores his friends, they’re all douches really. They Just came to the gym so they can watch the girls train. In the very back of his mind Conner doesn’t blame them, some of the girls are hot and the leotards on them show off all their curves in the right ways but Conner is better than that, plus he doesn’t really see the girls in the same way his friends do.

On his way to the weights he must stop in his tracks as he passes the vault because a gymnast is currently using it. He watches in awe as she runs up to it and launches into the air using the spring board and does all kinds of fancy flips and tricks before landing solidly with her hands stretched out and a smile on her face.

“Looking good Cassie.” He says to her. She’s the only one out of the gymnasts he properly knows and that’s only because of his cousin who introduced them to each other hoping that they would get together. They never did, as attractive as Cassie is, Conner just didn’t feel that way towards her and he thinks the feeling was mutual.

Cassie looks over at him and her smile brightens up, “Hey Kon and thanks I’ve been working on it for several weeks now. It’s only just recently I’ve been able to get the landing right.”

“Well you get a 10 out of 10 from me either way.” He grins.

“Oh, how generous of you.” She quips back with a teasing smile. “Anyway, how come you’re here this late, aren’t you going out tonight?”

Conner shakes his head, “Na, not tonight. Just don’t feel up to it. As for why I’m here its just because I want to lift some weights, though to be honest I didn’t expect you to be here.”

Cassie goes to open her mouth to say something back, but she was interrupted by a very loud hooting noise. They look over at the source to find Conner’s friends obnoxiously cheering on one of the girls doing a floor routine. Conner face palms, feeling embarrassed from their behaviour, why was he friends with them again?

“And you brought your friends with you…” Cassie comments dryly. It’s clear that she doesn’t like them and from their behaviour they are currently portraying Conner doesn’t blame her.

He sighs, “I’m sorry for their behaviour towards your friends. To be honest I wasn’t even planning to come with them, they all practically tagged along. It wasn’t until we actually got here I realised why they came.”

“It’s not your fault, don’t worry about it.”

Their conversation was once again interrupted with another shout, only this time it was one of the gymnasts shouting at them to move out of the way. “Cassie, move your ass out of the way.”

As Cassie moves out the way Conner looks over to where the shout came from. There was a boy and a girl standing next to each other at the other end of the vault runway. The girl he recognises as Cissie, he’s met her before as she’s good friends with Cassie, however he was surprised by the guy next to her. Conner guesses that he’s meant to be a gymnast because he was wearing a red sleeveless leotard and black pants. What put Conner off the guy was his figure as it’s not what you would expect from a male gymnast. From Conner’s experience male gymnasts are muscular and board in the shoulders, this guy wasn’t. Conner could see the defined muscles in his arms and even see a form of a six pack on his torso, but he wasn’t broad in the sense Conner himself was, this guy was lean and slim.

Before he knew what he was doing he was asking Cassie about him, “Hey Cassie, who’s that? Next to Cissie?”

Cassie looks over at where the guy was and then back at Conner. “Oh, that’s Tim. He’s new. Just joined the team as of two weeks ago.” She informs him.

“Oh. Is he any good?”

Seeming to understand what he really meant Cassie answers, “He may not look it but he’s one of the best on the team. Super flexible, quick on his feet and surprisingly powerful even though he doesn’t look it. Not all male gymnasts are big, broad and muscular like you Mr. Muscles.”

“I didn’t know you had any guys on the team.” Conner comments ignoring what she said.

“We didn’t until him, it makes a change to have him. He’s a good guy, bet you would get along with him.”

“Maybe…” Conner says distractingly. He’s looking at the guy again, this time he notices his pale skin, black hair tied into a small ponytail and even his blue eyes, at least Conner thinks they’re blue its hard to tell from this distance.

Getting himself together he tells Cassie “I’m going to go lift some weights, talk to you later alright.”

Cassie nods and starts to walk away, Conner moves quickly to pass the vault to get to the weights the other side. He looks over to find his so-called mates are still crowded around the girls practicing their floor routines, he chooses to ignore them.  He sets up his weights on the bench press and then sticks in his earphones. Settling down on his back he starts to do his first reps.

While he does his weights he’s distinctively aware of the gymnasts doing tricks on the vault, there’s a giant mirror in front of him that stretches across the wall which allows him to see everything going on behind him. From where he is laying down he can see them launching themselves in the air, doing fancy flips and landing again.

As he moves through his sets he watches the girls do their tricks in the air. It doesn’t matter how many times he watches them he will never get over on how they can twist their bodies in different ways. Its memorizing. Conner himself was not flexible at all, he couldn’t even touch his toes from just standing up because of how inflexible he was, though thankfully he was strong and that made up for area that’s lacking.

He was just lifting his heaviest weight when he sees the guy, Tim, have a go on the vault and suddenly it seems like the world had just slowed down. Conner watches the guy place his hands on the vault and how he launches into the air. His back curves in a perfect arc where his legs are together and his toes are pointed, his arms tense and show his defined muscles as he pushes off away from the vault and into the air. He twists his body in a full rotation before tucking in and doing a couple front flips before he opens out again and lands perfectly with his arms stretched out and a smile on his face.

A sudden weight crashing down on his chest distracts him away from looking at Tim. The sudden pressure on him winds him and Conner is left struggling to breathe. He had completely forgot what he was doing while he watched Tim perform, that distraction caused him to lose full concentration and make him drop the weights on himself.

He must have let out a sound because suddenly there were people around him. Hands grabbed at the weights in Conner’s hand and lift it off him while another set of hands help him up into a sitting position. With the weight now off his chest Conner finds himself being able to breathe again.

As he controls his breathing Conner looks around at the people who helped him, it was Cassie, Cissie and Tim. They all seemed to be wearing the same expression of concern on their faces. Conner feels himself heating up from embarrassment.

“Conner, are you okay? What the hell happened?” Cassie asks placing a hand on his shoulder.

Conner weakly smiles at her and says, “I’m fine, just lifted a bit too much I guess.” It comes out more breathily than he wanted it to, he’s still trying to regulate his breathing. He feels an ache from where the weight had hit his chest, great now that’s going to be sore for a few days and possibly even bruised.

Cassie is still looking at him with concern, “Well next time don’t push yourself to much or at least get someone to spot you while you do it. That’s dangerous Conner, you’re lucky you just seem to be winded from it.”  

Conner just waves her concern away not wanting to hear the lecture, “Yeah, yeah Cass, whatever. I’ll be fine thanks.”

“If you’re sure, just don’t do any more weights for tonight.” With that she leaves and Cissie follows her after giving him an amused smile.

Conner watches them go but then is surprised by Tim’s presence as he’s still stood next to him. Conner looks up at him and tries to send him a smile, “I’ll be okay you know. Just pushed myself a bit too much that’s all.”

Tim then looks down at him and Conner feels his heart jump. He does have blue eyes and he thinks they are the sharpest blue eyes he has ever seen. The other man gives him an amused look, like he’s figured out Conner’s real reason and suddenly Conner finds himself feeling uncomfortable under the other man’s gaze. He stands up and takes a deep breath and then realises that he’s much taller than Tim, Kon can’t help but notice his lean figure once again.

Conner bends down and grabs the weight, as he lifts he feels the strain on his chest from where it still ached. He places it back in its original place and removes the weights off the sides, as he does this he feels eyes watching his every movement, he guesses that its Tim but he tries to not pay attention to it.

“You know none of the girls are interested right?” Tim is then speaking out to him.

“Sorry?” Conner asks looking at him to see if he heard right.

Tim points to the girls around the gym, “They aren’t interested in dating any of you jocks, so there’s no point being cocky and trying to show off.”

He looks at Tim to see the man giving him a hard stare as if he’s offended. “I wasn’t showing-” Conner starts to protest but he’s cut off by the other man.

“Don’t bother lying.”

While Conner may have decided that Tim was attractive and his lean body was perfect, he’s also decided that he is jerk with a shitty personality. Cassie had said that they might like one another, but what the hell was she thinking?

“Look,” He starts giving Tim a pointed look, “I’m not looking to get in any of the girls’ pants alright. I’m not the assholes over there,” he gestures to the mats where his mates still where, “Yeah some of the girls are hot but I don’t swing that way. I just wanted to lift some weights but found that I struggled to lift that particular weight, there’s nothing showing off about that.”

It was in the moment of silence after his small speech that he realises what he had said. He feels his grow hot once again from embarrassment. He quickly looks around to see if anyone else was paying attention to their conversation, thankfully no one was and all his mates were still over by the floor mats.

“Oh.” Tim says eventually, it seems like he’s drawn back a bit after Conner’s speech. Kon has a short moment to fear about what the other man was going to say before he started to speak again. “I’m sorry to accuse you like that, its just wherever we go as a team guys always look hungrily at the girls and it does my head in.”

Understanding Tim’s behaviour Conner shrugs “No worries man. I get it, if I was in your boat I’d be protective of the girls too. I apologise for my friends behaviour by the way, but that has nothing to do with me,” Conner tells him now feeling more at ease.

“Yeah.”

There came the awkward pause between them. Neither of them knowing what to say.

Having finished putting away the weights and feeling the awkwardness between them he suddenly sticks his hand up in front of Tim “I’m Conner.”

Tim takes his hand and Conner is surprised by the others grip, its strong, but that’s to be expected because of what he’s been doing in the gymnastics. He also notices how small Tim’s hand looks compared to his own.

“Tim.” The other says letting go of Conner’s hand. Taking his hand back Conner notices that there is now chalk on it, it seems that Tim notices to because he’s suddenly letting out an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry I completely forgot that I had chalk on.”

Kon looks up to see Tim wearing a smile, once again he feels his heart jump. He has a nice smile, and Conner can’t help but notice how Tim’s eyes light up at the same time.

Finding himself smiling back Conner shrugs and wipes his hand on his shorts, “no biggie, it’ll easily come off.”

“So, you know Cassie then?” Tim asks.

Kon nods, “Yeah I know her, known her for a few years. My cousin introduced us hoping we would get together but jokes on her as we never did.”

“Fair enough, well, we um, we’re planning on going out later tonight. If you don’t have any plans and of course if you want to, do you want to come with us?” Tim asks, by the end of it he’s speaking quickly.

“Where you guys going?” Conner asks feeling curious.

“Just town as far as I know, we’ll be meeting up with some others as well.”

Conner thinks about it for a moment, he did say he didn’t fancy going out tonight but if Tim was going out maybe it was a chance for him to get to know him. Plus, he’d be going out with Cassie, something he hasn’t done in a long time. It could be fun.

“Yeah sure why not, could be fun.” Conner knows he made the right decision when he sees Tim smile again.

“Great I’ll get Cassie to text you details a bit later then.”

“Sounds good.”

“I should get back there and do some training before I get yelled at.” Tim says sheepishly and Conner could have sworn he saw the other man blushing.

“Yeah of course, sorry for keeping you from training.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Tim says slowly backing away. He gives one last smile before fully turning and heading back to his friends.

Conner watches him retreat. Its not the girls I’ll be watching, it’ll be you… he thinks to himself. He then notices that it looks like Tim has a good ass. If they go out later, he hopes Tim wears skinny jeans or something that’s fitting because he’s suddenly wanting to see what his lower body shape is like.

As he turns away and faces the weights he can’t help but smile, he’s looking forward to tonight.

[spyno41-2]

Tropical Heaven: Florida's Boogaloo

Prologue

They're in Cassandra's bedroom, which is surprisingly clean for Victor. He thought it would be less organized due to her...chaotic nature. He sits on the chair. Raymond is reading doujinshi of a woman being in a harem, while Cassandra is watching the television upside down on her bed next to him.

Cassandra is wearing a black and green shirt that has Jotaro and Jolyne posing with the text "To Daze or to Dawa? That is the question." She is wearing a brown skirt that reaches down to her knees.

Raymond is king of pussy slaying. If he ever called any number that he was given. See, he's a very attractive Asian-American. Black short hair and wears glasses. For some reason, he wears a tuxedo everywhere he goes.

As for Victor, he's a normal Hispanic. He wears his Miami Dolphins shirt and jeans.

"Rayyyyy." He ignores her. She places her foot on his face. He doesn't react. "I'm boooooooored."

"What do you want me to do about it?" He says without breaking away from his cellphone. She places her toes up his nose. This does not deter him.

"Help me not get booooooored." She whines still keeping her stone face.

"Are you both dating?" Victor asks.

"Nah. We're sadly soulmates." Ray replies, removing her foot. Victor is more confused. Then again, he can barely understand these two with how eccentric they are. He doesn't pry further and uses his phone to look up urban legends.

"What are you doing, Vicky?" She asks him.

"I'm researching urban legends of Florida for my project. I decided to do Robert the Doll since it's one of the well known ones." Cassandra sits straight.

"Where is this Robert?"

"He is currently in East Martello Museum down at the Keys." She quickly puts on her black stockings with white stars and crocs.

"Let's go."

"Woah woah. That's a three hour drive."

"Don't worry. I can pitch in for gas."

"That's not the is-"

"Get the car ready, Ray."

"All right." He gets up. She runs out of the room. "Don't bother trying to talk her out of it. Once she has her mind on something, not even the Goddess herself can stop her nonsense." He sighs and leaves. Victor hesitates, but figures this is a good opportunity for his research.

Way down in The Keys

"Woooooah. Stuff." Cassandra stares at the antiques. "You think if I become famous, they'll display my panties and stockings here?"

"Perhaps. Maybe once civilization falls because evangelicals are still in power and unleash nukes to the world out of greed, then the only thing left in the rubble would indeed be your panties and stockings. The aliens will preserve them as evidence of humanity." Raymond says with a straight face while watching porn of tentacles sodomizing legal femboys.

"Far fuckin out, man." She says.

"Uh guys? We're here for Robert, remember?" Victor reminds them.

"You cannot rush history, Vicky. We must appreciate and acknowledge their achievements to grant us the life we are currently living from their sacrifice." Cassandra stares intently. "Which is shit."

"Yes. One must wonder how much actual progress they made, considering things aren't any better about five decades ago. Then again, at least we're socially progressing with every generation. At a rate of a sloth, but progress nonetheless." Ray adds.

"I can see why you both get along." Victor sighs. He moves to the room where the doll is in.

Robert is encased in a glass. Sitting on a wooden chair looking up. He wears a sailor suit of his era and has beady black eyes. Victor wonders why any children would own such a creepy doll. Especially when it's life sized to be a four year old. It's no mystery why Robert sprouted much history. It was designed to be an inspiration for many horror movies to come.

"Hey Robert. I'm Victor. Do you mind if I take a picture? It's for my school project." He asks. The doll doesn't respond. "I'll take that as a yes." He pulls out his phone and starts taking pictures.

"Were you asking a doll for consent? That's pretty cringe, not gonna lie." Cassandra enters the room.

"You have to. People who have taken photos of him, had misfortunes fall upon them. It's why there are letters asking for an apology to lift the curse." Victor points at the many letters in the wall next to the doll.

"Ooooh? That's a bunch of bullshit. Curses don't exist." She pats his head and takes a quick selfie with Robert.

"What are you doing!?"

"Testing the theory, thus hath speaketh Cassandrath." She does the crucifixion pose.

"This is serious, Cass! Legends like those don't spring out of nowhere. In fact, there's a chance that all those supernatural events could explain one thing."

"Are you saying th-"

"Yes. Robert might be an Estado User."

"...CHAJAJAJAJAJA!" She cackles. Victor is disturbed by such display. He is so used to her stoicism, that this comes out of the left field for him. "Vicky, Vicky. My bubula~! Objects can't have Estados. Only living beings can achieve such a feat." She pinches his cheeks. She has her usual creepy smile. Her coffee brown eyes are wide open so that it lets him see the slits. She is grinning to show off her sharp canines.

"It's only a theory." He says. She goes back to her stoicness.

"You are right, though. We can't disregard that possibility." She examines Robert and presses her face against the glass. "Hmmmm. Looks like a normal doll to me." She goes to the corner of the room and crouches. "Oooooh. This looks cool." Victor sighs and looks back at Robert.

"Maybe I'm just being too paranoid."

Beaches with bitches

The group is walking along the sands in Smathers Beach.

"Plenty of estrogen. Not enough testosterone." Raymond sighs.

"That's fine. Feminity is superior anyways." Cassandra looks out at the sea.

"Wow! This is very beautiful!" Victor takes a picture of the scenery. He is focused on his phone, that he bumps against a woman. "Ooof! I'm sorry about that, ma'am."

"It's okay. Though I'm not old enough to be considered a ma'am." She laughs. "Actually, me and my friends are playing volleyball, but we're short by one. Would you like to join us?" She leans forward, making Victor get a nice view of her cleavage.

"S-Sure. I'll play for a bit." She smiles and they both go.

"Look at that. Our son is going to get gangbanged by a bunch of hot MILFs. Almost makes me cry." Cass sniffles stoically.

"Proud of him." Ray goes back to his phone, watching a man being hypnotized to think it's a child and the woman around him having sex with him. "Seriously, who the fuck is into this?"

"We don't kinkshame fellow comrades."

"I know. The art is good though. Why must great artists divulge their talents into degeneracy?"

"Cause it's what they wanna do or get paid for. Who cares?" Cass shrugs. She takes a step and falls into a pitfall.

"The Pillows!" Raymond summons his Estado. She has pink hair and cat ears. She has a television for a head and a feminine mechanical body with an organic pink tail. She extends her arms in the pit to grab Cassandra and pull her out.

"I already accepted my death but thanks TP." Cass says, unfazed by her certain doom.

"NYAAA~!" A cat face appears on the screen and she does the Tokyo Mew Mew pose before disappearing behind her User.

"Try to be careful next time. Beaches are known to have pitfalls." Ray goes back to his cellphone.

"How peculiar? I remember there not being one a moment ago." Cassandra examines the hole, when a football hits her face. Hard.

"Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry!" A hunk with blonde hair and blue eyes helps her up. "Are you okay?"

"Other than possibly having a concussion, I'm functionally fine." Cass is starting to have a headache.

"I have some ice that can help your bump, if you like? We also have water if you need." Cassandra gets very close to him and caresses his chiseled chest.

"Tell me, you think I didn't notice? When I first arrived, your other boys pulled the same stunt to other girls earlier. I also caught them putting something in the water bottles before passing it to the beautiful maidens that fell to your trap." The man is sweating profusely. "But your worst mistake was targeting me."

"Get off of me, you crazy bitch!" He pushes her.

"BOOM BOOM SATELLITES!" A being materializes behind her. She has a black and green jumpsuit with a motorcycle helmet covering her head. Devil wings adorn her back and has a tail with the tip being heart shaped. She punches the man's gut with such force, that it sends him flying and crashing against his cooler.

"What the fuck!?" The boys check up on him as he's convulsing in pain and pleasure. Then he ejaculates a heavy volume of semen. The police finally arrived.

"What's going on?" Victor runs up to Raymond.

"I called the police for the crimes that fill this beach. Seems Cass found another scandal in progress." He faces Victor. "I mainly called them because the woman you were with fits the description of an active serial rapist."

"You son of a bitch! And you guys let me go with her!?"

"Don't worry. I would've tailed you if you both left the perimeter. Plus, I trust in your ability to defend yourself." He goes back to his phone as the officers apprehended the woman and the group of boys. The police had to call paramedics as the hunk is completely dehydrated. "Cass! Let's get out here." Him and Victor walk back to the car.

"..." Cassandra witnesses the arrest and then back to the hole. "I'm coming!" She catches up to them. When they reach the car, the tires have been slashed.

"Victor." Raymond says.

"Yeah?" He looks at him and steps back. Despite still having a neutral expression, he can sense anger coming from him.

"I hope you find the perpetrator that did this. Because if I find them, there will be a memorial for their tragic accident. And everytime I come here, I will visit the site to remind them of their place."

"Raymond. Let's not get carried away." Victor tries to calm him down.

"There's no need to look for them. I already know who did it." They turn to Cassandra. "I've been thinking for a while now. All these misfortunes that have been happening in such a short span of time, while mathematically plausible, is improbable." She pulls out her phone. "I secretly installed a hidden camera in the room that Robert resides, while pretending to give a damn about the antiques."

"Are you implying the curse is real?" Victor says.

"As I said before, curses don't exist. Estados are another story. But that will only matter if my theory is true." She opens the app for the live feed. The group huddles together. The glass case that's supposed to keep Robert is empty.

"He's gone!" Victor reacts.

"I can see that, Vicky. No need to state the obvious. This is a clear indication that the doll is sentient." Cassandra puts away her phone.

"A Living Doll. Energy of deceased females that are trapped inside a doll. Most of the time, it's victims that are placed inside an object. Other times, the person who lost their loved ones projects it on the doll, giving it life." Raymond explains. "Or in this case, a legend that gave it sentience."

"I guess you were somewhat right, Vicky. Though no one would imagine Robert to be a Monster Girl due to his assigned gender. The question now is, how did it follow us and does it have an Estado?" Cassandra examines the car and finds scratches on the trunk. Raymond opens it and they find Robert inside holding a box cutter.

"Oh shit! It's Ro-!" Cass covers Victor's mouth.

"So you were hiding in my trunk. I don't care if you're a relic of history, I will ravage you for your crimes!" Raymond summons The Pillows. Robert lunges at him with the weapon.

"NYAYAYAYAYAYA!" TP punches him repeatedly. With the final strike sending him flying against the hood. Robert quickly gets up with no problems and scurries away.

"Get that mothafucka!" Cassandra commands. The crowd are focused on the arrest, that they fail to notice the Three Stooges chasing after a doll. They chase him all the way to a warehouse. Robert quickly gets in through an open door and shuts it. "Like that'll stop us." She summons BBS.

"Wait! Let me check something. Veltpunch!" Victor calls out his Estado. She is a humanoid bottlenose dolphin with a VR headset both on her head and where the tail should be. She wears the Miami Heat jerseys.

"OAO~!" She screeches. He puts on the headset and she places her hand on the wall. Using her echolocation, he can see the inside in white outlines from the darkness.

"That guy is fast. I can't see him. He must be hiding somewhere already." Victor says.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Cassandra commands BBS to bust the door open. They enter the building. The place is dark. She switches the lights on and they see stacks of inventory on the shelves. They walk around with caution, while Victor is echo locating. She notices a big box from the top shelf falling above Victor. She tackles him out of the way.

"There he is!" Raymond points him out as Robert runs away. He pushes more boxes. Raymond uses TP to punch the objects, but doing so causes the kitchen knives to fall on him. He luckily covers his head with arms as it slashes his hands.

"Kahahahaha!" Robert laughs and then goes deeper inside.

"Are you both fine?" Cassandra checks on Raymond.

"I'll live. Won't be much use anymore though." He rips part of his tuxedo to bandage his hands.

"Take care of him, Vicky." She says before chasing after Robert. He keeps pushing objects off, but she evades it. The entire shelf on her right is falling towards her. She runs faster and dives out of the way before it hits the ground. "You want to play that game, huh?" She summons BBS to push the shelf where Robert stands. He jumps to another, but she keeps toppling over the shelves. This process keeps repeating, until they reach the end of the room. Robert dives at her, ready to stab her with the box cutter. BBS repeatedly punches him in the air.

"A Crow is White!" He summons a white harpy with a head of crow. She has a sailor outfit like the User. She repeatedly scratches BBS with her sharp talons, causing damage on their arms and chest. Cassandra backs away.

"Hmph. It seems attacking you directly does nothing to you." She removes her shirt to prevent it from getting more damaged. Showing off her sports bra and fit body. "Now it's starting to make sense. The curse that the story tells is because you use your Estado to cause misfortune."

"Aren't you a sharp one? While I knew you had potential, I didn't expect your servants to have one too!" He flails around like a child.

"Servants? Are you talking about my friends?"

"Friends? You can't fool me, Succubus! I've been around way before I became a legend and I know for a fact your kind don't care about human relationships. It makes me sick! All that moaning, meat slapping against each other, exchanging each other's bodily fluids...IT'S DISGUSTING!!"

"Ugh. I'm developing a tumor by you speaking."

"Whatever! I'll make sure you and your boy toys are dead!" He pulls out a revolver. Cassandra hides behind the shelf, while Crow and BBS are fighting. Robert keeps shooting at her until the gun runs out of bullets. He quickly tries to reload, but only manages to put one bullet when Cassandra throws a vase at him, making him drop the weapon.

"Grab the gun!" She commands BBS. She has her hand on the cylinder, before Robert snatches it away and quickly points at Cassandra. He pulls the trigger, but the bullet explodes, causing his arm to be blown off.

"Aaaah!" He screams in pain. One of Crow's wing is detached.

"BBS can make anything it touches to overdrive." She walks towards him menacingly

"W-WAIT! You can't destroy me! I'm an important part of history. I'm the reason people go into the museum in the first place! Not to mention you buffoons are caught on cameras." He points at the security cam.

"I'm not worried about that. Ray is already altering the footage so we don't appear. As for you!" She stomps on him. "I'm sure they'll replace you with the many replicas. You think the staff will admit they lost their famous doll?" BBS starts rapidly punching Crow, dealing massive damage to both of them.

"FLY OOOOOOOUT!" BBS battle cries, finishing off by detaching Crow's head with an uppercut. Robert's head detaches as well and hits the ceiling. She catches the head.

"Que la Diabla te joda en el infierno."

Robert the Doll is out of commission

She collects his remains in a plastic bag and dumps it in a trashcan. They are at Raymond's car waiting for someone to fix his tires.

"I can't believe you actually destroyed him." Victor says.

"He had it coming for hurting my baby. I wish I was there to witness his demise." Raymond says.

"Overall, it was a fun day!" Cassandra stoically cheers.

"There's never a boring day with you guys." Victor sighs.

"All that excitement has made me hungry. When we get back home Vicky, I need your semen for my shake." She sits on the hood.

"I think I need to sleep before that." She stares at him intensely. "...Fine fine. Raymond, you got any good material for me?"

"As a matter of fact, I found a hentai about a Japanese man fucking his brother's foreign wife. I don't condone cheating, but the animation is sadly good." They talk amongst each other, while Cassandra put on her headphones to listen to her jam.

Kokomo - The Beach Boys

Everybody knows a little place like Kokomo

Now if you want to go and get away from it all

Go down to Kokomo

Aruba, Jamaica, oh I want to take you to

Bermuda, Bahama, come on pretty mama

Key Largo, Montego, baby why don't we go

Oh I want to take you down to

Kokomo, we'll get there fast and then we'll take it slow

That's where we want to go, way down in Kokomo