#Cass has both and switches between them.

[amarachno]

Gotham City can be a terrible place to live but at least it has a nice skate park. It wasn’t always that way but ever since Bruce Wayne started his free space repair program all kinds of free activities for city kids had opened up. In Tim Drake’s opinion, the skate park was the best. Conveniently placed near Gotham Academy AND in the direction of Tim’s house? It was perfect. The best part? Sometimes, Jason Todd showed up with his older brother. What’s cooler than one Robin? Two!

Not that either boy knew Tim existed, of course. Tim Drake was fantastic at getting peoples eyes to glance right over him. Janet Drake had trained him to become invisible, after all. But really, it was too cool to watch. if a little funny at times. Dick Grayson was a wonder in the air, but finding your balance of skateboard is a bit different than finding your balance on a beam. Jason wasn’t much better about it but hearing him laugh at Dick falling on his butt after attempting a kickflip always brought a warm feeling to Tim’s chest.

Sometimes, Tim was tempted to go over and try to teach them, but he always chickened out at the last moment. He settled for helping out the seven year olds who always fell off their scooters. There had been a few times where he picked them up and out of the way right before they could get run over but it was all in a days work.

Tim usually managed to visit the skate park for an hour or two after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays, the other days he had extracurriculars Or had to be home in time to check in with Mrs. Agnes, the house keeper. Heaven forbid he gets home even a minute too late. Her pointy fingers always left his arm sore when she marched him up to his room.

where was Tim going with this again? Oh yeah, school is finally out and it’s time to visit the skate park. He had debated bringing his camera this morning, but ultimately decided that it wasn’t something he wanted to carry around all day.

He couldn’t help but wonder if he would see Jason and Dick there that day. Usually, they went around every three weeks after school. One of the nicest parts about seen him there though, was a heads up that Nightwing would be out that night. Nightwing was so fun to take pictures of. he was an entertainer after all. His movements fluid and quick. Once, Tim had gotten a picture of him falling from one of the higher buildings in a pose that almost perfectly made it seem like he was flying through the air. Arms spread, feet together, and chest out. A stark contrast to the way he windmilled and gracelessly fell at the skatepark, though Tim was pretty sure he only let himself fall because it made Jason laugh. The ride from school to the skate park wasn’t long, thankfully. It would be such a hassle to have to bike to the skate park and carry his board too. upon arriving to the park, he glanced at who was present that day

The good news, was that Jason was there! Not so cool news, Dick wasn’t. Jason seemed to be in a bad mood either way. Usually, Tim wouldn’t butt in. Usually he would’ve just made sure that Jason got back safe. But… Tim had a bad feeling. He hadn’t seen Robin out with Batman the day before. or the day before the day before that. Tim knew he couldn’t just leave this alone.

“So, where is your older brother?” Tim blurted out as soon as he was next to Jason

Jason blinked, looking mildly shocked before furrowing his brows. “Who’s asking? And why d’ya wanna know?”

“Uh” Tim said unintelligently. “I see you around here a lot and usually you don’t go by yourself.”

Jason stared for a moment, looking conflicted.

”Oh! I’m Tim, Tim Drake. We’re um, we’re neighbors.” Tim’s palms felt sweaty. This was painfully awkward.

“I guess that makes sense. Not that it’s any of your business.” Jason said hesitantly, taking a deep breath and then speaking again. “So, you skateboard?”

“Yeah, I guess, a little” Tim stuttered out. “You never answered my question.” Before clapping both hands over his mouth. he did not mean to say that out loud.

“He’s out of town for the month, ya nosey little shit. He lives in Blühaven.” Jason gave a wry grin. “He’ll be back soon.” he opened his mouth as if to say something else, but closed it again and looked away.

let it be known Tim is just as stupid as he is smart. He knows that once he starts talking, there’s no stop. It’s why he never talked to Jason or Dick before. Despite that, he opened his big, dumb, mouth. “Hey I’ll raise you to that ice cream place around the corner. Whoever loses has to pay.”

Jason grinned maniacally, “Alright short-stack, you’re on!” And then Jason shot off like a blur. Tim yelped out a “Hey! No fair!” before running after Jason.

Tim lost, not that there is really any competition, Jason’s legs were longer anyway.

One Neapolitan bowl and one Superman cone later, (courtesy of Tim’s wallet, of course) Jason and Tim headed back to the skatepark. they wound up wandering around, talking about anything and everything, laughing at the college kids who fell on their faces and the pigeons who attacked some guy for his fries. (The random dude was fine but he seemed creepy anyway so Tim couldn’t bring himself to feel bad.)

One hour turned into two and two turned into four. Soon enough, it got late and it was just about time to head home. The older kids were showing up anyway, and usually it wasn’t a good idea to stick around.

Tim was about to mention this, but when he turned to look at Jason, he paused.

“Not sure why I’m tellin’ ya this. But, you seem to have a good head on your shoulders.” Jason murmured, “I was gonna run away tonight.”

“Oh.” breathed Tim.

“My- I found my bio mom. I’m um- I was, that is, staying with Bruce Wayne.” Jason turned to stare out towards where Tim knew Wayne manor was. ”But, he thinks I did something I didn’t. something I would never do.” Jason swipes furiously at his eyes. “I found my birth certificate. The woman I called my mom all this time was actually my stepmother.” He turns back, making eye contact with Tim, a determined look on his face. “Her name is Sheila Haywood. I was going to fly to Ethiopia to meet her.”

Tim inhales sharply, “Alone?” he asks breathlessly.

“Yeah.” Jason replies guiltily. “I didn’t think Bruce would believe me.”

Tim pauses, thinking it over. “And, how much research have you done on this?”

Jason tenses, “Enough.” he snaps defensively. “I found a way there and back. I have enough to find somewhere to stay for about a week. But, if everything goes well then I should be able to stay with my mom.”

Tim laughs a little, a short exhale through his nose. “Oh no, I know you can take care of yourself. I’m talking about how much you researched into your mom. it would be smart to know why she moved. I don’t think a lot of people move to Ethiopia just for a change of pace. What if she were involved in some kind of-“

“She would never!” Jason exclaimed. “She’s an aid worker there.”

“Okay, I believe you.” Tim reaffirmed “ it was just an example. my point is just that, having all the facts is an important part of every plan.”

Jason relaxed at Tim’s reassurance, “Oh. That makes sense I guess.”

“Maybe I could help!” Tim squeaked out nervously. “ you could come to mine I’ll get my laptop out and we can look into her public records. Maybe we could do a little bit more digging and see if there could’ve been an outside situation.”

Jason considered it for a second, tilting his head back.

“If you sleep over at my house tonight, you don’t have to see Bruce.” Tim added quickly.

Jason whipped his head to look at Tim, nodding vigorously. “Yeah that would be great. Um, maybe we can stop by really quickly though just to tell Alfred and pick up my clothes for tomorrow.”

—>

With Tim’s help, Jason found evidence that Sheila was involved with the Joker. He never went to Ethiopia, he does tell Bruce about his bio mom. Batman goes to investigate it, finds out about the Joker’s plot, and stops it in time. Jason Todd doesn’t die. But he doesn’t see much of Tim anymore either.

Tim Drake saves his favorite Robin. Who knows what would’ve happened had he actually gone to Ethiopia? Especially since the Joker was there. Nothing good obviously. Jason and Tim stay friends for a little while, but don’t stay that way for long, only occasionally seeing each other in the hallways at school. Jason was busy with personal matters anyway, not much time for the skate park. Or for Tim. Eventually, Dick and Jason show up again, bringing Cass, Steph, and Damian along to teach them how to skate. Tim keeps his distance, content to watch.

Sometimes. Sometimes he wishes he could join them. Not that he’d ever say that out loud, of course. It’s the same way with their nightly activities too. It’s selfish. Tim has everything he could ever need. A roof over his head, food in his pantry, and two living parents. Even though they aren’t around. he has his hobby, chasing shadows around Gotham, taking pictures. That’s what Tim was meant for. He wasn’t meant to be a brother, or even a friend.

[pacificwaternymph]

I think the funniest scenario I can think of with the Wayne family being multilingual is the arguments.

Like to my understanding, everyone in that family knows and/or at the very least understands 5-6 languages, minimum. There is definitely significant overlap between many of them, but all together I imagine each of them have like two languages in common with each of their siblings, excluding English. So you've got a nice, wide mix.

Which is all fun and games, right up until something sparks an argument and the entire family gets swept up in it.

Everyone is shouting. They've switched languages four times in half as many minutes. They each only speak about half of them. Poor Cass shut down from too much input about a minute and a half ago. Jason and Dick are both shouting at each other in languages they know the other doesn't understand. Steph doesn't even know what they were arguing about in the first place because it started in Portuguese, which she doesn't speak. Tim can't remember the word for cat in Arabic and has taken to trying to poorly describe it.

Everyone walks away from the conflict with entirely different conclusions.

Of course could just return to the original topic of debate (if any of them could even remember what it was) after they've all had time to cool off like reasonable adults. But they won't. Because god forbid they make anything easy on themselves.

[yeetus-feetus]

we need more Cass and Dami interactions. Like they have quite a bit in common, and I also think Cass would love being an older sister. And I think she would be a cuddle bug, and Damian let's her cuddle him- she knows his boundaries though, can read when he doesn't actually want the hug and respects that. I think Damian would secretly enjoy the hugs most of the time, act like he doesn't like it but Cass knows he does and just ruffles his hair playfully until he pushes her away.

I think they'd enjoy going on stakeouts together. They like it because they're both doing something important to them, while also spending time together. They don't need to talk, just sitting there together is comfortable, and if sometimes Damian leans his head against his big sisters shoulder no one has to know. If they get Bat Burger together afterwards well, Alfred doesn't need to know.

I think Cass would learn verbal compliments and art even some art terms so she can compliment Damian's art and listen to him talk about art techniques and understand. I think Damian would draw things for her to show his affection, and Cass definitely hangs them in her room.

They're absolutely the most competitive at Mario kart to the point the others give up on playing with them, so they regularly compete against each other instead. They get so fired up over who wins that week and gets the bragging rights that Cass even curses at both him and the game whenever he's winning.

Sometimes, Cass will open his door and stand there in the doorway, not knowing why, until Damian looks up from whatever he's doing to acknowledge her. Then she'll walk away and leave the door open just to annoy him. She doesn't know why she does this. (It's a sibling instinct)

Damian, likewise, likes stealing her clothes: hoodies, jackets, sweat pants, ect. This annoys her too and, if it's a hoodie or jacket, she'll sneak right up to him and yank it over his head and off him in the middle of whatever he's doing, sometimes startling him. With sweat pants she's less likely to ever get them back, because most of them are black and most of Damian's are also black, and they're roughly the same size right now (Dami is 14 and Cass is short).

I can also imagine them doing each other's nails, damian always gets his done black and Cass switches between yellow, purple, and sparkly black. It's just another way for them to spend time together and sometimes Stephanie will also join them in this activity, which Damian doesn't usually mind.

And of course, Dami is super supportive of Cass and Steph's relationship. He doesn't say it outright, but since Stephanie had started dating his big sister he's been tolerating her a lot more and even spending time with her occasionally too. That's not to say he didn't give her the scariest shovel talk he could possibly muster up. That's his big sister and he'll be damned if anyone hurt her.

Similarly, Cass is just as protective of her baby brother (Damian doesn't like being called baby brother, he's not a baby, but she still insists). When Jon gets to handsy with Dami around her she gives him her signature death glare to make him back off, usually with his hands up as a show of surrender, while her death threat had a lot less words the descriptive actions are not something he'd like to risk. And Damian will always scoff and roll his eyes every time this happens.

[waspsarebetterthanbeesanyways]

Only the Dead 7

part 1

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Damian stiffens, eyeing Phantom warily. ‘Prince?’

Phantom gets a foot underneath himself and pushes himself upright, and then into the air. “Fright Knight,” he says.

“My prince,” says the ghost possessing Red Robin. “We feared you’d passed on! It’s been months without word, and even our best trackers were unable to locate you!”

Phantom wraps both arms around his chest. Fright Knight watches the movement closely, frowning at the green blood spreading through Phantom’s jumpsuit. “Mm,” hums Phantom. “The hunters got me.”

“They did to you as what they did to the subsapients they’d captured,” Fright Knight says. It’s not a question, and Phantom stays silent. “I see.” His hands tighten around the grip of his sword. “That is an act of war. King Pariah will doubtlessly order me to slay them all, and I must admit it is a relief to know they have brought it on themselves.”

“Do not,” Phantom hisses. “I am not in accord with Pariah Dark. The people of this city are innocent. I am more to blame than them.”

“No!” Fright Knight barks. “You are a child, not even old enough to assume the throne! No matter your responsibilities, you are not to blame for the actions of evildoers!”

“Yet how many child ghosts has Pariah Dark created today?” Phantom asks.

Fright Knight looks away. “My prince, I have no desire to fight you. But you know my duty. I am enthralled. I cannot disobey King Pariah’s orders.” Fright Knight looks to Jason, hogtied, squirming and helpless. “He is my quarry. Leave now, my prince. I will not tell King Pariah I saw you here today.”

Phantom steps between the bats and Fright Knight. His eyes glow a vivid blue, and a rapier of ice forms in his hand. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Then stop me!” Fright Knight lunges.

Phantom parries with a grunt. He glances at Damian from the corner of his eye. “Take Red Hood and go! I’ll hold him off!”

Though his hands are slick with blood and the pain makes tears prick in his eyes, Damian draws his blade. He didn’t become Robin to let an unknown fight his battles for him, and he didn’t become Robin to leave Drake, his brother, for dead. Next to him, Cass raises her fists, batarang in hand. Together, they leap into the fray.

Still sword locked with Phantom, Fright Knight ducks beneath Damian’s swipe. With his free hand, he reaches out to catch Black Bat’s fist, but she deftly twirls around him to land a strong punch to his shoulder, knocking him backwards. He is only barely able to dodge Phantom’s follow up stab.

Fright Knight rapidly slashes at Black Bat. “Don’t let his sword cut you!” Phantom cries. She ducks an overhead swing and nimbly jumps over a low feint.

Damian slinks behind Fright Knight and thrusts an elbow towards his spine. Fright Knight staggers forwards. Black Bat jabs at his throat, and though Tim’s body gasps and wheezes, the Fright Knight is undeterred. He twists inhumanly and strikes Damian in the cheek with a hard backhand.

Phantom leaps in with quick, graceful stabs. The Fright Knight parries them, seemingly without effot. Phantom switches to a wide slash, which the Fright Knight blocks with a forearm, but it was a feint, and Phantom backflips smoothly, coming up with the point of his blade aimed at Red Robin’s throat. Damian’s breath catches, for an instant convinced he is about to see his brother die, but the Fright Knight easily knocks his thrust aside.

“You’ve gotten rusty, my prince,” the Fright Knight says, lashing out with a kick to Phantom’s gut. Phantom goes flying, but he twists in midair to land on his feet.

“I’m a bit out of practice,” Phantom pants.

“Nonetheless, it seems you’ve surrounded yourself with capable allies,” the Fright Knight says. Cass leaps out of the shadows, throwing a batarang. The Fright Knight knocks it away with his sword, but it seems like he’s too slow to block her follow up punch. Before it connects, however, a second, heavily armored arm emerges from within Red Robin’s arm to grab her wrist. Cass’ eyes widen. “Unfortunately, they are no match for me.” He twists her wrist harshly, and Cass screams as it audibly snaps. The Fright Knight then throws her into the slide hard enough to make it collapse. She doesn’t get back up.

Enraged, Damian lunges at the Fright Knight. He easily blocks Damian’s strike with his sword, and then with a twist of his wrist he sends Damian’s blade flying out of his blood slicked hands. With his free hand, he grabs Damian by the throat, and hoists him into the air with strength greather than Red Robin’s body should be capable of. Damian grabs the Fright Knight’s wrist and kicks at Red Robin’s body, but the Fright Knight doesn’t even seem to feel it. Desperately, Damian tries and fails to inhale.

Fright Knight brings his blade up to Damian’s throat. “I apologize, but I must do this.”

“You don’t!” Phantom cries. “He isn’t your target!”

Fright Knight casts a long look at Phantom, then unceremoniously drops Damian. Damian gasps. “You are correct,” he says, turning towards where Jason lays. “It seems I’ve gotten carried away-- ah--“

At the Fright Knight’s stutter, Damian looks at Jason. Cass is there, and Jason is slung over the shoulder of her broken wrist. She pulls out her grapple with her uninjured hand. “Retreat,” she says, and grapples up to the nearest roof. She swiftly disappears into the shadows.

Fright Knight takes a step to follow, but Phantom intercepts him. “Go!” he shouts at Damian. “I’ll catch up!”

Damian grits his teeth. Retreating rankles like nothing else, but Damian is injured and tired, and even if he were at his best the Fright Knight would be a difficult opponent.

“Don’t kill Red Robin,” Damian tells Phantom.

“Of course! What do you take me for?!”

Damian retrieves his blade, turns, and runs.

_____

@coruscateselene @somecrappyclone @quirky-gardener @undead-essence @gin2212 @the-archer-goddess @learning-to-fly-on-my-own @krzys2000 @thegreawizards @luckykittens198 @violently-lovely @wackyattack @0j-9 @darkhinauniverse @just-for-dpxdc @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair @fisticuffsatapplebees @ saltyladynightmare @all-mights-asscheeks @icedbluesoul

[violent138]

batfam road trip headcanons

Tim, the resident insomniac caffeine addict, would alternate between shouting he's bored, needs the bathroom, or passing out.

Damian would get really irritated by everyone, scold people periodically, and/or start talking about a special interest for hours.

Cass, the one forced to sit between Tim and Damian, lets them both fall asleep against her while making little braids in their hair. She has to deal with their bickering until Steph growls at them.

Steph would totally be a massive backseat driver, demand how much longer 'till they get there, and argue over the music.

Dick would play peacekeeper and try to get everyone to join games, pouting when they're all sarcastic and half-hearted, and keep asking to pull over so they could see cool things. He'd probably attempt to confiscate phones (and fail)

Jason would keep fucking with the music to annoy everyone. And if anyone asks to change it, he'd say "Over my dead body". He'd also be the only one having the time of his life annoying everyone.

Bruce would occasionally threaten to turn the car around, and wince when he switched lanes too fast and a row of sleeping kids tumbled like bowling pins. He'd keep trying and failing to have League meetings over Bluetooth without his kids being menaces.

[pansy-picnics]

No idea if they would since they all live in a castle but how do you think the uknighted parents each would deal with empty nest syndrome?

AUDJSJSD NGL I’VE KINDA BEEN HOPING FOR A QUESTION LIKE THIS BC!! they DO. and they are NOT good at it. AT ALL.

ukd are very adamant on giving their kids the freedom they never had growing up, so as long as they’re managing their own duties they’re basically free to do whatever (though eugene can be a Little overprotective sometimes he means well). of course bc ilmari’s adopted and isn’t of any royal blood they end up being the first to leave the nest… i’ve already discussed that vaguely here, so this time i’m gonna talk more abt ryder!!

being the eldest of the twins ryder is technically supposed to take on the throne to corona, and people have a LOT of high expectations from him, especially other nobles/those who were….less than pleased with rapunzel’s approach to ruling. he’s basically seen as the “light” of corona and has been held on a pedestal since he was very young, which leads him to repress himself and puts a lot of strain on his relationships for many years- especially with alina who’s often left in his shadow (and he doesn’t mind it per se!!! but he does feel like her life is pretty directionless, and she’s always been rather dependent on ryder bc of it).

all this to say, eventually on their 18th birthday everything boils over and leads to a nasty fight between the twins. they both kinda realize that they need to grow up and branch out in their own ways- and ryder in particular realizes that he rlly just needs to get Away for a while. so going to help edmund in the dark kingdom seems like a pretty good way to gain some new perspectives!!

after all the pressure she was under herself, rapunzel understands this more than anything…..but that doesn’t make it any easier for her (or cass and eugene, for that matter) to accept. :’3

idk if any of you guys watched steven universe future, but i think they’d all be like this final scene like. ALMOST WORD FOR WORD LMFAO

in fact as soon as ryder even suggests the idea to rapunzel shes awkwardly slipping out of their painting session and running to cass and eugene in TEARS and they cry for a good 3 hours but obviously they want to be SUPPORTIVE and STRONG for their BOY!!! so they pull themselves together and when he brings it up again at dinner they’re like. “omg thats great!!! ^_^” and ryder is just like ?????????

and ryders almost a little hurt that they seem so unfazed so he tries to prod them like. Aren’t you guys upset. but they don’t budge. and so obviously right at the end as he’s saying goodbye to everyone and they’re STILL nonchalant abt it he just bursts into tears like “WHY AREN’T YOU GUYS SAD IM LEAVING :(“ and IMMEDIATELY the three of them all jsut run to him BAWLING

ryder rlly enjoys his time in the dark kingdom actually. obviously edmund and the brotherhood have a Lot of flaws in their approach to ruling….but that’s not rlly what ryder needs anyways. i think they’re very goal oriented and focused on what they can do as a unit rather than what other people think of them, and that’s a lesson ryder definitely needs to learn. not to mention he brings a lot of color to the place (both in a literal and metaphorical sense).

alina pretty much stays in corona tho…which her parents certainly aren’t complaining about. i think he really needs some time to stand up and take on more responsibility without ryder stepping in for him. the twins wont be taking on the thrones anytime soon, but i think when they do, they’ll end up switching- so ryder will be the king of the dark kingdom, and alina will take on the role as queen of corona. alina’s always had deeper ties to her kingdom than ryder did…not to his fault, but the pressure he’s had put on him just made it hard for him to focus on the things that Mattered, yk? he’s ended up being very stuck in his status, while alina has been a lot more down to earth and has always felt a closer connection to the public, if that makes sense… :3

but ryder and ilmari still visit all the time, and ilmari will take over the library one day too…like, raps, cass and eugene haven’t been Perfect parents by any means, but they’ve never failed to make sure their kids know just how strong, capable and loved they are. even though it hurts to see them go (and poor alina definitely has to deal with their theatrics and coddling for YEARS while her older siblings are gone), it’s very clear that no matter where they go, their kids will always know their home is with them, yk??? they love their parents so much and it just makes me so emo😭😭😭

additionally, i think uknighted dream kind of do some equivalent of fostering long after their own kiddos leave the nest… the three of them do a lot of community work, they have a lot of programs instilled for struggling families and kids alike. they end up helping pretty closely with a lot of the orphanages, not only with funding but also by putting in their own work. they visit a lot, come to tons of events…they end up forming a lot of bonds with the kids individually, or occasionally take them in when there isn’t anywhere else for them to go.

sometimes they know these kids for years, sometimes only for a few weeks…but they always try to stay in contact with them regardless. and even when that isn’t possible, they never forget about any of the kids they’ve met….so by the time they’re all old and grey, they basically have hundreds of pseudo-kids and grandkids all across the seven kingdoms, and in a way, their nest never really feels completely empty 🥹🫶

[luvly-writer]

"But oh..Cara mia”

Ch. 14 Shamelessly in love

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Dick Grayson x Latina Reader

Warnings: None

Status: Ongoing

Author's note: Honestly, I think this has been my favorite to write ngl. What do you guys think? Hope you enjoy it!

Taglist: @lorosette @nanas-teatime @prettyacademia00 @mxtokko @sarahkaliii @w31rdg1rl @Eurydicegrimes @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @alecmores

Series Masterlist:

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You were sitting on the floor in front of the full-length mirror in your room doing your make-up. Babs was sitting on top of your vanity table, straightening her hair in front of your vanity mirror. You loved moments like these where you both could slow down, relax, and not have to worry about anything related to superheroes. You were just two girls enjoying getting ready for a fancy party. You would play soft music in the background. As you did your eyes, you thought back on the past few days. The moment in the lab between Dick and you repeating constantly. It was frustrating, to say the least. Why would he get so close? Why was he so confusing? You rolled your eyes at the mere thought of him, how you hated Dick Grayson right now. You huff and decide to sing softly the song playing, "Oooooooooh only because I was in love, I opened up. Now I'll open up to your best friend, which one? Bitch like me, I just had to flip the switch on yo-" Your eyes widened. Dick had invited Wally. The same Wally who never passed an opportunity to flirt with you. You smirked. Years ago, when he heard of your "rivalry" with Dick, he took it upon himself to piss Dick off by flirting with you as a joke. You were good friends and had gone to the same camp at MIT. You hum in satisfaction and continue to do your makeup. Maybe one night of flirting for fun and without sttrings wouldn't hurt...

You and Barbara posed in front of the mirror and took a few pictures. She had taken your advice on wearing a green dress and looked absolutely stunning. You had opted on wearing a gorgeous blue dress that you had seen when you went shopping with Babs. Your hair was loose, letting it fall beautifully. You looked gorgeous. You were both looking at the pics and giggling when you heard Jason's voice come from the outside of your door. "Hurry up! We aren't getting any older here!" and you both roll your eyes. You noticed you didn't like your earring so you told Babs to go first and that you'd catch up once you changed them. Finally, you excited your room and walk down the stairs where everyone was waiting.

Dick stared at you as you walked down the stairs. You look ethereal. You smiled as you got to everyone and Dick swore his heart almost leaped out of his chest. You were wearing his color and you looked so SO GOOD in it. You all got in line to be introduced to everyone at the gala, Barbara and you stood side by side and talked with Jason and Steph. The protocol was to be announced and if you had a partner, they would be announced as well. First was Bruce, and Damian who entered. Then were Dick and Kory. As he walked he saw the flash of orange hair from his best friend who he had invited tonight. Then came Tim and Steph. Then Duke and Cass. Finally, Jason, Barbara, and you. As you walked, you smiled brightly and waved, smiling even more when you saw Diana next to Bruce. Then, Dick's heart stopped. Once you made eye contact with Wally, you winked at him, causing the speedster to smirk back at you. Dick watched the interaction closely...what the fuck?

Throughout the gala, Kory insisted on dancing and was holding up quite well with the rest of the socialites. Dick would constantly be by her side and would pull her to dance every once in a while, yet his mind was somewhere else. He would constantly turn back to see Yn and Wally. They would be found whispering to each other and laughing, flirting, and even worst, Wally had pulled Yn to dance quite a few times. Dick observed them viciously. Every time Kory would notice Dick falling away, she would add him to the conversation or ask for another dance. Things were going moderately fine until they weren't. Damian and Tim had begun to fight and it escalated so much that Damian pulled out a dagger. Steph and Jason were debating with a bunch of people and they were close to screaming their opinions, I think Steph even insulted Mr. Hikkin's wife. Dick thanked everything that Cass and Duke were the only ones not acting out. Bruce was trying to stop Tim and Damian and Duke and Cas ran to pull Jason and Steph away. The socialites were looking at the Wayne kids bewildered. Yn ran to the scene but Diana pulled her back when Tim's fist almost made contact with her face. Dick ran towards them and was able to get them to calm down after he dragged Damian away. They were all tugged back and Alfred came out to scold them. During that, Bruce's public relationists came running to him and warned him that seeing as this was a charity gala where the guest was supposed to place checks on their names, their little display plus the public scolding was making the socialites whisper and not in a fond way. Bruce groaned and asked her if there was something to do. "Well, we may need to call for desperate measures," she said nervously. And Bruce nodded for her to continue, "Operation young lovers always helps divert their attention and you know how much they eat it up every time..." She finished. Bruce looked at Dick and Yn tiredly and whispered a small please. Yn and Dick nodded. They knew what their roles were whenever it came to desperate measures in galas, didn't matter how they felt at the moment. Yn looked at Diana, who squeezed her hand and left to tell the band to change the song. Yn whispered something to Wally and Dick turned to Kory, "Sorry, Kor. This calls for desperate measures" he said and the girl reluctantly nodded, knowing that she shouldn't cause a scene in public. Dick walked towards Yn and placed his hand for her to take, "May I have this dance, Miss Prince?" he said loudly, making the elders around them gasp and smile. "You may, Mr. Grayson," she said softly and placed her hand on his. He could feel his senses tingling with her touch alone. He pulled her to the center of the ballroom floor and everyone made way for them. They stood in front of each other waiting for the waltz to begin. He placed one hand on her waist as she placed the hand that wasn't on his, on his shoulder.

"you ready?" he whispers softly, lowering his head so only you listen to him. You nod, too taken by his scent and touch to even speak.

"Don't speak

No don't try, Its been a secret for the longest time"

You begin to dance. You try to avoid his eyes at all costs. You knew that once you looked at those baby blues, you'd be gone. Unfortunately, you seem to have forgotten that when you dance avoiding his eyes, the flow of the waltz is not natural and sauve, its a little choppy.

"Yn, sweetheart, I need you to look at me," Dick says softly again and you shake your head softly. He sighs, "You know, you can trust me on this, bug, we've been partners ever since forever. Just trust me" he says, taking the hand on your waist and tilting your head so that you meet his gaze.

"Don't run,

No, don't hide, been running from it for the longest time"

Your (e/c) eyes meet his, its a dance of precaution, restraint, and, danger. His gaze softens, and he smiles once your gaze stays on his, "There we go"

"So many morning i woke up confused,

in my dreams, I do anything I want to you"

He twirls her and when he brings her back, he pulls her closer than she was before. They remain with their eyes locked. They begin to dance more fluidly. The people around them suddenly disappear and it felt as if they were the only two in the room. Dick breathes her in, trying to memorize how her body feels on his. Yn eyes soften (enter kate sharma's gaze) "why won't you let me go?" she whispers.

"My emotions are naked, they're taking me out of my mind"

She wanted to hear it. She knew it was wrong and he was in a relationship but she wanted to hear it. Maybe have some hope that he felt the same. She wanted to hear that he wanted her and that's why he couldn't let go. She wanted to hear that he craved her just as she craved him. The music began to speed up just a little, but they didn't miss a beat. The perfect waltz.

Dick looked at her and his eyes, glossed just a little. "We work together Yn, I don't think that we could ever escape each other" he answered and held her other hand. They pushed against each other, stretching their hands, and pulled back, now walking in circles. Yn hummed unconvinced and looked in his eyes, wanting sincerity.

"Right now I'm shameless,

screaming my lungs out for ya, not afraid to face it"

"I'm not convinced" she replied with a sing-song tone and he twirled her and they went to position one again. He looked away and she smiled softly. She taunted, "You have to look at me, Pajarito" and he turned to her again, "you have to trust me" she finished and he smirked. This woman..

"I need you more than I want to,

Need you more than I want to"

"Why are you not convinced?" he asked and Yn had an internal debate. Should she be bold, should she cower away? She had been thinking of confronting him for a while but Kory was always with him. Chances were she wasn't going to get another opportunity to have him alone, just to herself. Fuck it...I want answers

"Show me you're shameless,

write it on my neck, why don't ya"

He dips you and you hum cheekily, "I think you can't stay away from me and that's why you do not want to let me go." When he pulls you back up, Yn slid her hand from his shoulder to his neck, right on top of his pulse point. You felt his heartbeat get faster and smirked at him. Pink dusted his cheeks as chills go down his spine. He pulls you closer and grips your waist tighter.

"And I won't erase it,

I need you more than I want to"

"I..." he gulps, "I don't know what you are talking about," he said with his head a little cloudy. She began to twirl the hairs on the back of his head. "Do you not, Richard? " she said and got closer to his ear, "teams have been broken and replaced, people have left and returned, yet I ask you to leave, and you resist? hmmm, I think it's more" and Dick's eyes roll back, he closes them, and groans, all the restraint he had was failing little by little. She pulled back, happy with the reaction she got, and threw her head back as they danced. "Why do you want to leave so bad?" he asks, finally looking back at her, giving her puppy eyes, soft and vulnerable.

"Need you more than I want to

nuh-uh, uh-uh, don't wanna do this now"

"Why does it matter?" she quips back and he twirls her again, wanting to catch a break from her intoxicating presence. Once she is back in position, he answers, "Why would you ever want to leave?"

"Nuh-uh, uh-uh, don't wanna do this now

Nuh-uh, uh-uh, don't wanna do this now

Nuh-uh, uh-uh, don't wanna do this now"

"I don't want to leave, darling" she softly laughs but then turns somber, "I want this confusion to end.." Dick takes a sharp breath, "What's confusing?" he asks. Surely she can't mean what he thought... She looks at him again wondering if she should answer

"So we're there,

Now, it's real"

"Yn, what confusion, what do you mean? Dick asks desperately. 'Tell me what I want to hear and I'll do anything for you' he thought. 'Is it worth it?' she thought. The world around them was lost. No one mattered except for the person in front of them.

"And i'm tired of loving somebody that's not mine"

"Richard-" "-Yes", he was desperate, tell me, tell me that you want me just as much as I want you. "Why do you care If I leave you?" she asks, eyes a bit glossy. She felt as if she wanted to throw up, scream, cry, all of the above? He takes a deep breath and squeezes her waist, "I'm afraid of the man I could become if you are gone.." Deranged. That was what he would be. Completely lost, absolutely gone. He was so used to orbiting around her light, whether it warmed or burned him, that if she was gone he would be insane. Her eyes snapped to his, searching for lies and she found none, "Don't leave me to burn alone" he whispered looking at her tenderly, desperately, lovingly, lost with no plans of returning.

"There's just inches in between us,

I want you to give in, I want you to give in"

Dick took her in his arms and lifted her. She placed her hands on his shoulders and looked down at him, both never breaking eye contact. She slowly started sliding down, Dick always keeping a hold on her, making sure the move looked smooth. Her body pressing against his deliciously.

"There is tension in between us,

I JUST WANNA GIVE IN"

Once she was on the floor, he slid his hands up from her waist, raising her arms. The two had their hands up, intertwined. They were pressed against each other as they walked in circles. Faces inches apart, he nuzzled his nose to hers, and she hummed, her heart in her throat. The world around them lost and forgotten. He flips her and now she was with her back to him, both of her arms extended, his hands on hers again. They keep on dancing and he lowers his head, almost placing it on her shoulder

"And I don't care if I'm forgiven"

"Tell me, Yn, what your confusion is, I'll clear it up, I swear, I will clear it up, ask anything, and it's yours" he whispers, voice raspy from the intensity of his emotions at the moment. 'What if what I want to ask for is you' She thinks. He flips her again and presses her against him. They waltz once again, but in a different position. His hand is between her shoulder blades, thumb caressing her back. Her arm is on top of his, hand placed once again on his pulse. Their other arms stretched into a straight line. This allowed them to get even closer.

"Right now, I'm shameless,

Screaming my lungs out for ya,

Not afraid to face it,

I need you more than I want to"

Dick twirls her and finally dips her. The song came to an end. When he pulls her back, they let go of each other, absolutely breathless. They stay standing in front of each other, gazes locked unable to look away. The ballroom is silent for a moment before it erupts in applause. They both snap out of it and look away, finally remembering where they were. Dick coughs and looks at Yn, who is hugging herself, smiling bashfully at their public and blushing. He smiles softly before he turns his eyes to inspect the crowd and there he sees it. The one thing he absolutely forgot. Kory.

"Show me you're shameless,

write it on my neck why don't ya

and I won't erase it"

He sees her fuming, anger and sadness present in her eyes. He starts to walk towards her but she storms off to the gardens. He knows that the fight is inevitable. He turns back to Yn, who is looking towards where Kory disappeared to. She then makes eye contact with him and looks away quickly. He goes to reach out to her but she hurries away from the crowd directly to where Barbara and Diana were standing. Diana gives her a knowing look and Barbara has her mouth open. She quickly takes Barbara's hand and rushes both of them out as she gives Diana a look that says, 'I'll tell you later when I sort it out'. Diana nods and begins to mingle again. Everyone goes back to their usual, chatting about the two young lovers and how it was always pleasant and most satisfying to see them dance. Dick looks back at his family, who are all looking at him in awe, wonder, surprise, concern, and shock. He turns to Wally who gestures to where Kory left and mouths, 'Fix that first." Dick nods and begins to walk over to the gardens. Would he be able to fix something that was cursed to fail?

"I need you more than I want to

I NEED you more than I want to"

[the-arkhamwolf]

Reverse Robins Tim Drake

I have a lot of Reverse Robin Aus so I thought it would be fun to compare the different versions of Characters in each starting with Tim

Falling in Reverse

My first ever Reverse Robins deals with Tim's many self-worth issues. In this version Tim dies due to his fear of failure.

Tim was a neglect child that felt he had to earn every thing including his place as Robin. After his Parents died he moved into Wayne manner. Damian wasn't much help making Tim feel like he didn't belong.

Things got better between them but Tim's never got over that feeling of not belonging. He never spoke out on this just worked hard to prove himself. Believing Robin was the only reason he wasn't tossed aside. So when he was benched, due to him "Not being fit to be on the feild", he took that badly and went out to prove himself. Overworked and paranoid he walked into a trap that ended his to short life.

Tim then takes a dip in the pit and wakes up cold and reserved. Ras is amazed believing that the pit had no affect on him, that was indeed far from true. The pit gave Tim a different kind of rage, a quite rage, something Ras would come to realizes was far scarier.

For a while Tim stays with the league learning and waiting. During this time Ras tries to brain wash Tim and he plays along. But the truth is Ras never had Tim under his control. When Tim is ready to leave he sets off his plan basically destroying the league. He then confronts Ras and kills him. This is Tim's first kill and while Ras doesn't stay dead (Thanks to the pit) He becomes fearful of Tim.

Tim is able to control the pit (for the most part) making it safer for those around but deadly for those he deems as a threat.

He goes back to Gotham and despite Ras best efforts Tim doesn't hate the bats and even feels relieved Bruce took another Robin. After all Tim wasn't really suppose to be Robin.

Tim blames himself for his death and thinks he has brought great shame to batman and Robin. Tim sees himself as a failure that does not deserve to rejoin the bats, this is reinforced by the pit. So he works to protect the bats doing the dirty work to keep their hands clean.

Some people deserve to die and that's where he comes in. Because Batman doesn't kill and Damian should never be put in that spot again, not after how far he has come. Tim sees himself as a necessary evil.

He actually has a great relationship with his replacement even if he didn't mean to. He works hard to make sure the kid is safe. Jason is a great kid and will never go through what Tim did. He and Damian have a complicated relationship but both still care for each other.

He gets along with Cass pretty well even if they disagree on killing. He thinks Steph is the funniest thing ever and loves to watch her annoy Damian.

Tim leads the outlaws which is him, Roy, and Rose. Tim doesn't need friends he needs to focus on his work. Roy refuses to let that happen and somehow sneaks his way into being friends without Tim realizing it.

Rose flirts with Tim at first because it always flustered him but slowly they grow to like each other.

Tim is touch starved and he is the only one that doesn't see that as a problem. He also is a workaholic so Rose and Roy have to keep an eye on him and make him take breaks.

Tim has a deep love of photography even as Red hood. It a way to connect him to his past and Robin.

(Spoiler- When he becomes a dad He leaves the role of Red Hood and becomes a new paper photographer)

Something I love about this version: Tim has deep love of Fnaf that drives everyone crazy

The Watchers

The Watchers is a much more darker take on reverse robins and the main reason is because Tim doesn't die. Watchers switching things up a bit with Tim having a good relationship with his parents. Tim is still a little sneaks out and becomes Robin.

Damian and Tim's relationship is much worse in this version. With Damian being jealous of Tim and his family. After Tim's parents die he moves in with Bruce and Damian becomes angry. (Damian is a lot more resentful due to stuff that happens to him but this is about Tim right now)

One night Damian cuts Tim line and he crashed into a building. It doesn't paralyze him but it does give him permanent back problemsAfter that Tim became stayed on for another year as Oracle, A whole year of putting up with Damian's harsh insults and mocking unable to do anything. Finally, Tim had enough, quit the hero game altogether.

He leaves Gotham only to be brought back a few years later by an un expected visitor. Batman has stepped down and Gotham is full of crime and the Court of owls is at the center of it all. There is going to be a purge on Gotham Tim hates this city but it was his home. He and this guy name Jason team up to take back Gotham.

As so as he moves back Tim started having nightmares. He doesn't get much sleep and his back is not going to let him go into the feild so He becomes SkyWatcher. The court finds out about him and sends a talon after his. Turns out it's a child (Dick Grayson). He decides he's going to bring him home and raise him. It takes a while to earn the child trust.

Tim comes across Rose and the two ends up have a relationship sort-of like batman and cat women.

Tim has a deep resentment for photography because it reminds him of Batman and robin. He also hates Damian and this gets worse when Damian takes Stephanie under his wing and makes her Robin.

Something I love about this version: Tim trying to raise a kid that is constantly trying to stab him

Falling Slowly

Falling Slowly is not exactly a Reverse robins set up as Tim is actually the oldest. While Watchers is the darkest version I think this is the saddest.

Tim parents weren't around much so he would sneak out at night to take pictures of Batman. Batman gets injured one night and Tim is forced to reveal himself to help Bruce.

After Alfred patch Bruce up he imminently takes Tim home telling him to not sneak out anymore. Of course, Tim didn't listen because someone needs to be there to help Batman when he's in trouble.

Eventually, Bruce gave up and started training him, not to fight but to protect himself. Tim started helping Bruce with cases and spent a lot of time at the cave. He was given the code name backup but he's not allowed to join in the fighting.

Everything was great until Tims's parents got killed during a robbery. Bruce took him in ahd tried to help him. Feeling guilt about his death Tim tried to go out and avenge his parents but Bruce stoped him. He made Tim his side kick hoping it would help Tim the same way Batman helped him. And it did Tim became less restless and more focused.

Tim become Cardinal but because of how tiny he is the media started calling him Robin. Tim hated this but he got tired of correcting people. While Robin Tim and another sidekick he was freinds with got attacked. Tim only got minnor injuries but the friend was nearly killed and lost the ability to walk. Tim blamed himself and started to spiral lucky someone was there to pull him out.

 After Tim graduated he moved out to go to college. He came home for the weekend to find that he had a little brother.

Tim is beyond thrilled, he always wanted a little brother. Jason was a little standoffish at first but eventually warms up to him. Tim spends his weekends training Jason and eventually passing down the mantle of Robin to Jason once he's ready.

 Tim couldn't help but blame himself because he gave Jason the suit. Tim dropped out of school and moved back to Gotham to keep an eye on Bruce. He gets a job at W.E. and becomes Redwing. Tim is in a spiral and no one seems to be able to pull him out until Selena goes a talks to her. She manages to convince to get therapy.

Therapy ends up helping Tim still has a long way to go but there's diffently an improvement.

The therapist advises him on getting a therapy dog. Tim's skeptical after all his mother had taught him dogs were fealty creatures that would chew him up.

However while working on a case he finds Ace a poor German shepherd that has been mistreated and hurt. The dog tries to tear him to pieces so He brings it him. Slow he earns Ace's trust after taming him some work he takes to a class to get him trained. Ace doesn't care for other humans or dogs but he has gotten to the point where he chooses to ignore rather then attack.

Ace complete trust Tim and Tim complete trust Him.

One day while walking in the cave he was attacked by a child assassin aka Bruce's son Damian. Damian doesn't like Tim at first but Tim keeps an eye on him because the kid is his little brother. 

 One day Damian walked up to Tim and Bruce and demanded the Robin mantel. Tim puts his foot down before Bruce could say anything reminding him of what happened to Jason.

One night Damian steals the Robin suit and sneaks out. He runs into Red hood and somehow the villain knows his every move. Luckily Tim comes to the recuse, unlucky Tim isn't prepared to deal with this.

Something I love about this version: Tim loves to skateboard and even teaches Ace how too

Brand new Au

While my first Reverse Robins has Tim having a bad live and then dying this newest one has Tim being happy then dying. Okay Tim's parents are still neglectful and he still gets a ruff start as Robin (or whatever name I use) but the rest is pretty happy.

It all starts when Damian gets shot. He's not killed but he's is paralyzed from the waste down. Damian had been Robin Tim's hero and Batman's sidekick. After getting shot he left Gotham leading to a much darker Bruce. Batman needs Robin, Tim didn't sign up for this but here his is.

Bruce is better but he and Damian still aren't talk. Tim decides to put a stop to that. Damian and Tim get off to a rocky start with Damian finding Tim annoying and aslo having an underlying resentment for the kid Tim doesn't care.

Slowly the little brats grows on him and Damian does come back to Gotham. The two become pretty close. Damian convinces Tim's Parents to let Bruce adopt him and Tim moves in.

Tim is a people pleaser so Damian makes sure no one takes advantage of him. And Tim makes sure Damian doesn't bet himself up over mistakes.

Tim effectively becomes friends with a villans daughter and takes her under his wing. Stephine trains under Tim to become the next Robin

Tim plans to leave the mental to start his own team but is to nervous to tell anyone by Damian and Stephanie.

Tim gets hurt bad on a patrol trying to help someone. Damians on the headset the entire time talking to him as Tim lays bleeding out.

Tim's death spits the family apart and cause Steph to leave. L

Tim comes back via Lazarus pit plays Ra's, destroys the Lazarus pit, leaves the league in shabbles than starts up his own team with Roy and Rose.

He can't control yhe pit messes with his head making him cold and dangerous so he stays away from the bats to protect them.

Cass is sent to kill Tim instead he takes her and trains her she in return becomes his unrequest body guard. He trys to give her as normal a life as he's can.

One big difference between this and Falling in reverse is that in FR Tim had his own run down apartment. Where as her all of the outlaws live together in an abandoned building.

Something I love about this version: Tim ands Cass's siblings dynamic I just find this adorable

Wrap up

Falling in Reverse: Ashamed Red hood in desperate need of a hug

The Watchers: Tired dad with back problems and a murderous child

Falling Slowly: Guilty older brother trying to make up for the past

Brand New Au: Scared Red hood who pushes everyone away

What character would you like to see next?

If there's you have any queston or want me to to talk more something of one of these drop it in my inbox

Also I need a name for my band new au if anyone has a suggestion

[incorrectbatfam]

no bond is stronger than the one between a batkid and his corresponding speedster

Literally, there's a speedster to compliment every bat

Dick and Wally have the classic brolationship—they have their own partners but that won't stop them from sleeping in the same bed, ordering one milkshake, or sharing custody of Zitka. They have the comfort of knowing that in every life, they have each other. Plus, Babs and Linda already have their bredding (bro wedding) planned out.

Hear me out: Jason's speedster is Owen Mercer. Owen, who's the second Captain Boomerang with short bursts of speed, can act as both the hero and the villain in different narratives. Unlike his predecessor, his alignment shifts to suit his needs but he's more good than bad, which makes him a prime Outlaw candidate. Also Jason wants to set the record for most redheads collected.

Tim has Bart. A lot of fan portrayals have Bart as tertiary to Tim and Kon (it's even a point of contention in canon). However, I think of Bart's mentality as the antithesis to Tim's. Tim mulls over strategy while Bart chooses to act first. They both have a stubborn righteousness, but Tim is jaded with experience compared to Bart, who maintains a youthful sense of optimism and ambition. They're both geniuses, but Bart is far more in touch with emotions and can call out when something isn't right in a relationship.

Damian has Wallace II. Canonically, they butt heads before coming to the realization they have to team up. Rather than being the opposite, I think Wallace's defiant attitude mirrors Damian's. They've both been let down by the adults in their lives and prefer to take things into their own hands. They both have childish egos that have been subdued over time, which can be both a common ground and a clashing point that keeps their relationship interesting.

I was initially gonna pair Jesse with Babs, but I think there's more growth potential with Steph. They're fast learners who aren't afraid to let themselves feel, and sometimes they're in over their heads. Jesse feels like a future snapshot of Steph. I can see Jesse showing Steph how to channel her passion and energy not just in being hero, but also becoming a better version of herself.

Duke and Cass share Avery. Compared to Duke, Cass and Avery have been around more. I can picture them taking him around the world on new adventures and teaching him tricks that Bruce wouldn't have. Avery switches between places pretty often, which makes her a reliable point of contact outside of Gotham. Also I wanna see Duke and Avery combine their powers.

Babs and Danica are the "let people underestimate us because of our disabilities" duo. While Babs is on the home front as Oracle, Danica is the speedster no one expects because her inhaler throws off all suspicions about her identity. While Danica doesn't quite fit with the Birds of Prey, she still makes a valuable ally.

Thaddeus possesses a cynicism akin to Cullen Row, although Thad is more unhinged. I can see them connecting over their resentment and without anyone to keep them in check, that can be dangerous. However, Harper is more grounded and draws clear moral boundaries, so she acts as a counterbalance that turns a destructive relationship into a productive one.

Jess and Carrie's nonbinary asses would definitely get along. They both have fun personalities and creative ways to navigate situations where not many tools are provided. They can be loud and attention grabbing when they want, but they also know the advantages of being in the background.

Kate and Max are similar in that they're mentors, but they're also not. They're the ones who step in when the usual mentor figures (Bruce and Barry) fall short. They have a distant exterior but provide lots of love and support once someone gets through to them, and they're not afraid to call out their counterparts.

Alfred and Jay have plenty of experience under their belts and don't let their age keep them from the action. It's abundantly clear that they care about their families, and it hurts when they can't protect them from everything. Jay has a more American Grandpa sense of humor while Alfred has the dry British wit, so together they're unstoppable.

John Fox barely shows up in the comics, but when he does he's doing what he thinks is best only to land in trouble. Selina would relate to the messy history and moral ambiguity where actions don't match intentions. They also both have a knack for disguises and can exchange tips.

Bruce has Barry, obviously. Their relationship is similar to Tim and Bart's. Bruce definitely lets the grimdarkness seep into how he sees the world, whereas Barry can step back and look at things from an objective lens. Not everything need a complicated plans with a thousand contingencies, so Barry is like the common sense/Occam's Razor. Plus, we all love how he and the team mess with Bruce—it's what Bruce needs.

[msfcatlover]

Shadow Jason (Reverse Robins)

(Jason has... too many costumes, I literally cannot find a single reference page that has even a majority of them, let alone all of them. Massive pain in the ass to research this.)

Jason started out with just Tim's costume (he inherited it on incredibly short notice, so he didn't have time to do any modifications before he first hit the streets in it,) but over time he makes it his own.

Which is like...90% tributes & callbacks to Steph, Jason's personal hero. Jason does keep Tim's predominantly black styling and switches his highlight colors from purple & gold to blue & silver, but the blue is very much a dark indigo (cutting the middle ground between Steph's dark purple & midnight blue, and allowing different artists to draw him either leaning more blue or purple depending on lighting & personal taste.)

(Guess who found an even better bat symbol chart? Anyway, Jason's is the "Batman: Hush" bat symbol, and he trades the ribbon-border for silver stitching. Because Cass is right, the stitched look is badass.)

Jason keeps the black cloak with "purple" (now indigo) lining, but he replaces the gold ribbon trim for a thick silver stitching. He also makes the cloak shorter, hanging just below his knees rather than around his ankles. The trim also now traces the entire hem of the cloak, rather than just the hood.

(Once again, thank you Stephanie Brown Costume History page!)

I will add that though all past Shadow hoods have had a pretty basic silhouette, Jason wanted a droopy-pointy one, because he's a dramatic nerd.

(Basic hood vs Jason's hood)

Jason keeps the headset, but he switches Tim's visor out for glowing goggles in tribute to Steph's original Spoiler costume. He also brings back Steph's full-face mask, if a touch more armored than her original mask probably was.

(Jason's goggles glow white, though.)

Jason's chest piece is a lot less bulletproof vest, instead going for a segmented/borderline laminar piece. Somewhere between Duke's "White Knight" armor & Jason's "Gotham Knights: Eternal" chest armor. The panels are all black, but the base underneath them is indigo.

(Keep in mind that this is pre-growth spurt Jason, so while both of these chest pieces are for pretty bulky dudes, Jason's still on the short & lean side side of things. He's not trying to look bulkier, these are just the best references I could find..)

The sleeves are dark blue & fitted, made of durable slash- & stab-resistant fabric. Jason wears basically his RHatO Robin gloves, but without the weird loops on the sides. The gloves are predominantly black, but the red highlights are now indigo. He also has polished metal caps on his knuckles, echoing Steph's costume & buffing his own punches.

(Once again, it is really really hard to get a good reference shot of these gloves, but I think these 2 pages together give you a pretty good turn-around of them.)

I have not been defining utility belt styles, but whatever the differences between them have been, Jason rolls back to Steph's design. His is black with silver clasps/buckles, for the record.

I do like Jason's big pockets & cargo pants from recent comics, but I think he'd want to take Shadow back to its sleeker look than Tim's padded up & kitted out design. (Jason also doesn't need to carry nearly as much gear himself, since the rest of the family kinda babies him a little, so there's almost always one within shouting distance if he needs them.) I'd say he goes back to the padded leggings, but adds pouches that hang from his belt & strap to his thighs, mimicking both the look of Steph & Dami's thigh armor, and his own big-pockets look in recent comics.

(So imagine if those pockets were actually hanging from his belt the way his holsters are here, with a second strap around the thigh to keep them from bouncing around or getting in the way.)

I actually realized while looking at that Gotham Knights article that I wanted to give Jason the boots/greaves from the "Year One" costume, and while hunting for a better image of them found this awesome piece, which not only gives an excellent view of that leg armor but also actually has fitted pants with thigh-strapped holsters, to give a better idea what that should look like.

(Pants & straps should be black, red armor should be indigo with silver edges, which you even kinda get with the grey backing in this piece. Seriously, huge shout out to Damián Navarro Méndez, though, this design & render both look awesome! I hope they paid you really well for this one, and you didn't have to crunch over it.)

And that wraps up Shadow Jason! Hopefully it's enough of his own style to feel unique from the three other designs I've already done for Shadow, and like something Jason would actually wear. It's still recognizable as a Shadow outfit, and makes it very clear who Jason's primary inspiration was without directly ripping Steph off (or even being too obvious at a glance that he's shouting her out.)

I hope there's also enough echo of Cass & Duke to show that Jason's having to serve as kinda both Moonbeam & Shadow simultaneously; the guiding light & grounding dark to Gotham's Batman. Because Jason (like Tim) doesn't have a partner in this, but (unlike Tim) Jason doesn't have to stand fully alone in his efforts.

Phew! Thanks for sticking with me, folks, but we're done with Shadow now! Now I just have to do... everyone's grown-up designs...

(Don't worry, I'm still having fun and it's not nearly as daunting at it seems at a glance. It's just a lot, and their independent identities are going to be a touch harder since I'm basically starting from scratch—just a stack of references & a half-concept/half-vibe—where the legacy costumes have iterated on eachother, allowing me to start from a base every time I make a new one.)

[dailycass-cain]

Batman: Wayne Family Adventures gave us a NEW Cass-centric arc.  It FINALLY released in its entirety this past Wednesday so yeah, at long last I'm gonna dig in and my thoughts on it!  

Season 2 of WFA has given us a lot of Cass in appearances (sixteen of the so far forty-eight episodes released) though unlike Season 1 Episodes 90-91 is our first official Cass-centric dramatic story this season.

And it is a double salvo of treats.

First off we get a team-up of Cass with Damian. Something we've barely gotten in the comics. Literally, Gates of Gotham is STILL the only time these two have teamed up.

That was in 2011. We're in 2023. HOW IS THIS STILL THE ONLY CANNON TEAM-UP we've had between them?!

Yes, they've interacted more since 2020 (three times compared to just twice prior to that, and I'm being kind with one of those interactions).  So yeah this episode is already doing things the mainline hasn't broken ground on.

But as always WFA gives us the dynamic barely teased in the main line (but is laser-focused here), the big sister Cass worried for Damian on their mission who breezes how easily it'll be given its Mad Hatter they're dealing with.

Just like recently in Batgirls #16, there is an underestimation of the Hatter that in this adventure costs Cass as she's brainwashed to be his weapon. Hatter's dialogue in part 1 is our first real insight to criminals in Gotham know about Cass.

This is something NEVER brought up in the mainline comics nowadays (probably due to DC's fear of acknowledging either origin of Cass). So we're in this "Schrödinger's bat" situation where both are her origin, but are not shown.

Here, it's quite clear probably which origin is canon to WFA (more on that soon) as Cass is used by Hatter to kill Damian. For all Damian's own fighting skills well, this is the first comic mention of him acknowledging her and actually caring about her.

Like literally, this episode fully continues off the last Cass-centric episodes we got all the way back in Season 1 with Episodes 32-33 “All Seeing” where we saw things thru Cass's eyes. Here we see again how the family views her via Damian.

But not only that, this is Cass's greatest fear come to life (per "All Seeing" her being used as this weapon and not a person). Again writer CRC Payne just DELIVERS with the emotion by having the emotionally reserved Damian pour out trying to reach Cass.

I have to give major props as well to artist Geoniya Acuna too. The emotion is drawn in both characters' faces. The change in Cass's eyes when she's switched into "weapon mode".

All of it is just *chef's kiss*.

That jaw-dropping ending is a good lead into part 2 where we see the war in Cass's mind trying to take back control.  

And here we get the series showing us her origin for the first time. And oh my.  I so wasn't expecting to see this bastard again:

Due to DC not acknowledging which origin of Cass's is the defacto one has left David Cain in a curious state.  Because if they go into the old one he's like above.

If they acknowledge the newer one, he's basically Donnie Yen as Storm Shadow.

So it just shocks me to see WFA go for their take on the original origin. It's simplified and that's the point Payne having Cain talk to Cass this episode.

I don't see it as Cain actually talking to her, more a mixture of Hatter's mind stuff and Cass's own insecurities taking shape. Until she remembers a CERTAIN someone who she met when she was lost. 

Again, the episode takes HEAVILY into Cass’s old Pre-New 52 origin acknowledging Babs took her in (and the crowd who ache for this version of a mature Barbara go wild). I know you stood up and cheered when WFA went there.

Because of that, Cass starts to break free of the mind control. Remembering more the bonds she forged. Remembering the identity she took and if anything this is where the one slight I have for this issue.

The episode gives us the first ever clear look of the top section of Cass's Batgirl outfit.  I had to pause reading it, and was like "Gimme this WFA. I want to see this suit in action. You don't tease me like this."

This is the only negative I ever give WFA when it comes to Cass/Tim due to their troubled histories in mainline DC Comics. WFA is like, an all-you-can-eat buffet acknowledging it all.

By showing it, you do the Orphan identity a disservice. Literally, we're 99 episodes in, and the only time they've acknowledged "why" Cass adopted this identity was as a joke.

I get "why" it was added to the series. It was the identity Cass had at the time.  But the creators of WFA have done their own "rebranding" of the identity. Giving Cass a scarf or cape to the costume. A different mask than the one she wears in the comics.

I get it. It's because for script purposes it allows the creators to have her outside the mask and be more expressive.

It's just that... 

You tease us fans by showing this suit. You dangle that Batgirl crumb over us. You're just gonna make us want more of this WFA Batgirl costume now (after dancing around it last season).

Now I want it.

I want to see this costume in action. I know Acuna can handle it. Give them the chance someone!  Give us the Batgirls episode this series NEEDS!!! You just don't tease us Cass/Steph's costumes and expect us not to want MOAR!

Cause we do.

Back to the story, these moments break free from Hatter's grasp and we get that righteous beatdown he's so deserved for daring to do that to Cass (along with a cute sisterly moment of Cass picking Damian up).

Like, again the series does what the main line hasn’t. Given us this moment of the two (given their similar backgrounds) being there for one another when moments like these happen. 

Even more, a cute exchange after all said hijinks. 

These two episodes again were a nice sequel to the last Cass-centric arc paying off seeds that began there and we get some rich moments here.

The only thing is the Batgirl-in-the-closet problem which continues to hamper the series.

But I digress that's my own minor nitpick. I can fully admit and cast aside my own "fandom" to say WFA is doing the duty it can showcasing ALL the Bats why they have such loyal fans.

This was another amazing chapter that WFA just seems to pull for their female cast and I'm glad there's this balance between overtly cute, but also educating the casual fan to those not given the light previously shined on them.

That said, I think it's time for another Harper Row arc. She's overdue for one being introduced this season.  Just give us that perfect bookend for the character with another stellar arc.

The creative team knocked another home run with this Cass arc.  Kind of leaves me just wanting more. 

Am I greedy? 

Yes.  

But it shows how good this creative team is feeding that fan side to me with these characters. Make that crave occur. So yeah kudos to them. 👍

This was an amazing arc giving us things I wish the actual mainline DC Comics would give us. Something I feel is an untapped field just aching to be dug into and mined.

[writingsbychlo]

listen to this and picture cassian showing all the Valkyries how it’s done. getting lost in the movements. hair tied up but some has come loose. panting, sweating, shirtless. perfect movements as he swipes and twists. cutting across in exact arcs. spinning on his heel, a sword in both hands as he works, focus in his eye like he’s on a battlefield not a training ring. ducking and weaving and showing such power, siphons blazing a little brighter as he goes.

now listen to this one and imagine cassian and rhys fighting in the dirt. adrenaline and tension and stress as cassian helps rhys get through a little of that mating bond frenzy he never got to indulge in with feyre. all the illyrians flying above in the sky, az leaning on the side of the wall watching, just in cass needs him. growling and punching and grunting.

now think about azriel and cassian sparring. when the music is fast they’re using their swords, flipping between the blades to switch them like that knife scene from TWS. the slow is them circling one another, panting and reevaluating. it’s azriel smirking as he assesses cassian, and cassian watching azriel’s shadows for his tells, for his next move. it’s sweat and bare skin and dust and the class of steel.

anyways, you’re welcome.

[real-reulbbr-band]

For the flower ship asks thing :]

Dahlia, peony, orchid and snowdrop for Victeazer

Tulip, daisy and poppy for Cassoffelees

sorry this took long, life stuff but I love these ships so

Victeazer

Dahlia ; Do they keep secrets from each other?

Teazer has the habit of keeping secrets, much like Mungo. It's more stuff she isn't ready to or doesn't want to open up about. 

Teazer is a bit of a bad liar, especially when Victoria is being stern with her so more often there isn't a lot of hiding things from each other going on.

As for Victoria she’s practically an open book, most of the time atleast. She only keeps secrets if others ask her to, and since she’s very loyal about keeping trust she won’t rat anything out to Teazer.

Peony ; Which one is the most impulsive?

Teazer.

Rump is fairly hyperactive enough that she can get impulsive and sometimes her “do what you want and just go with it” mindset does influence Victoria. 

Of course, Vicky would never be willing to go on a full heist but she is up for a few pranks and maybe a bit of cheeky fun with Teazer if they don’t hurt anyone or get caught.

I started thinking of the scene from Smurfs 2 in the candy shop and how that’s basically 2019 M&R song

Orchid ; Who's the big spoon and who's the little spoon?

OMG OMG

Victoria big spoons out of preference and cause Teazer loves getting engulfed in her girlfriend’s fluff. 

But occasionally they’ll switch up for funzies or depending on circumstances.

It’s not exactly an agreed-on thing, it just sort of happens.

Snowdrop ; How long have they been together?

Hmmmm I generally do a couple years after the events of the show for my hcs about them so probably two - three years i’d imagine

Cassoffelees

Tulip ; Which one gives the most gifts? Do they know the other well enough to give them something they'd like?

 Mistoffelees has the general advantage of being able to conjure things, he normally makes things Cassandra mentioned she liked / wanted. New collar, flowers, pillows etc. But even If Cassandra doesn’t mention a particular item he knows her well enough to get something she finds useful or likes.

However Cassandra isn’t one to be outdone, when it comes to hunting Misto tends to leave it to her (due to her own insistence and having far more opportunities and luck with it when on patrol) since Misto generally loves a good meal like his father Bustopher. So sometimes Cassandra will go out of her way to get him something special or new he hasn’t tried before. They have little at-home (or den) dinner dates.

Daisy ; Which one sings while doing chores? Are they good at it?

Hmmm, Misto whistles most of the time but he does sing few and far between.

Cassandra will and without a care, she has a genuinely beautiful voice and Mistoffelees loves hearing it. She normally sings simple tunes though.

Poppy ; How much do they trust each other?

Cassandra trusts Misto a lot. A lot a lot. 

(mini rant I'm sorry)

But my little headcanon was that Mistoffelees was always going to choose Cassandra as his assistant. In short term, she was in on it with Tugger and Mistoffelees.

Cassandra is a protective person and I think there was a big “What if Misto messes up” fear going around both of their heads during the whole get-back plan.  But instead of being doubtful, she does choose to trust Misto, (I think productions where they include cass running away is just her own anxieties getting the better of her) but she still manages to put that aside and trust Misto by getting into the pipe. And it works!

I think from then on she never really does doubt his magic. More importantly, him. 

As for Mistoffelees, he sort of always had a big amount of trust in Cassandra. Why wouldn’t he? She’s reliable and for him very approachable. They’re close and trust eachother alot.

[madmarchhare]

Company Chapter 8

Here is chapter 8 of my sci-fi story company. I will take a short break after this, as I am lazy, I hope you all forgive me. Hope you like it, it needs to be proof read, but I will correct it later.

Table Of Contents:

The ship raced forward, Wick pulling up the landing gear as it went, speeding downwards away from the flaming husk that drifted above, whatever CLR’s troops used as explosives obviously containing something that could burn even in a vacuum, the glint of white phosphorus coming through the rear monitors. Wick ran the engines full pelt, wanting as much distance between himself and his pursuers. He ran the engines in the red for about an hour until they found a dark moon, lingering in the shadow of a still planet that lacked an orbit, despite being surrounded by a battalion of moons. They landed on the dark side of the moon, hidden within it and shielded by a second that moving along with it like a twin. As soon as they landed the ship went back to silent running, red emergency lighting flickering on as the engines suddenly switched off.

Wick and Cass huddled in the cockpit, checking the various monitors, radar and everything else that might tell them they had been followed. After holding their breath for about ten minuets, they assumed they were safe. For now at least.

Wick slumped back in his chair, heaving out a dry sigh, then removed his helmet. He sat in silence for a moment, just staring out at the ink black ahead, held off by the guerilla army of red light. Cass joined him in the silence, leaving her helmet on as she went back into the living room.

“What should I do with these guys?” Cass called back, referring to the two Spec-ops corpses in the living room.

“Loot the bodies then chuck them out of the airlock,” Wick answered flatly, not even having to think over his answer, “we might as well try and get something out of this since we lost the black box.” His voice was irate as he spoke, but not with any particular direction to it, simply a general irritation. The pair had gotten lucky, it was obvious, if the guards had been looking behind when Wick shot his guard, if they had turned faster, if their aim has simply been a little more to the left… Well, it was best not to think about it, which of course meant both of them did.  

“About that…” Cass began, a hopeful, encouraging tone wrapping her voice, “we may have lost the black box,” she continued, Wick turning his chair to look at her, “but I did get the secondary module from it!” she declared pulling out a rectangular block, resembling a VHS tape stretched along the horizontal.

“It only holds an abridged version of the ship’s manifest and route as a backup, but it should be able to tell us what we want to know!” Cass declared proudly, thrusting out her chest. Wick regarded her with rare amazement, a giddy smile coming across his lips.

“Fantastic!” he praised, smiling at the neidr who put her hands on her hips in pride.

“I am, aren’t I?” she agreed boastfully as Wick stood up from his seat and went over to the bodies.

They were an ugly sight smelling of seared flesh and ozone, the heartless one in slightly better shape with just a semi-cauterised wound bored through her chest. The other was far worse off, their helmet reduced to melted slag that had fused to the now blistered flesh of their face. Wick and Cass lifted everything of the bodies, taking headless’s rifle and heartless’s revolver laying them along with the small set of items that were not integral to the suits. The space suits themselves were made of black, interwoven metal, resembling microscopic chainmail, certain parts having larger fragments where they didn’t need as much articulation. Below the wrists and above the ankles there were thin grey rings, flush with the rest of the mesh, that seemed to lock together separate gloves and boots to the main body of the suit, join that was matched near the base of the helmet, the suit having a turtle neck design.

Both Wick and Cass attempted to pry open the lock, trying to simply tear them off, twist or pry. After about ten minuets of straining, Wick sighed tiredly, “… that’s enough, they aren’t coming off he sighed drearily, a calm frown slanted across his face as he unceremoniously allowed heartless’s head to fall from his hands and clatter to the floor. He leant over and lifted up heartless and hefted the corpse onto his shoulder, Cass turning to him with a questioning look.

“What are you doing?” she asked as she leant over headless, fiddling with a wrist lock.

“Chucking them out of the airlock,” he answered flatly as if the answer was obvious.

“What?!” she snapped bewildered, struggling to find words as Wick walked to the airlock, “but, lo-look at this stuff, it’s got to be worth a fortune, if we can figure out how to use it or sell it…”

“I don’t want to keep anything that they could use to track us,” Wick bluntly clarified, opening the door as Cass bit her tongue, searching for a counter argument, “I’ll do this while you hack into that black box. We should have enough time while we find somewhere to refuel,” he added, calling back from the airlock, grabbing his helmet.

“But-”

“My ship,” Wick cut off her retort not bothering to let her finish. She grumbled to herself, pouting as he shut the door behind him, Cass turning to go further into the ship then pausing to grab her helmet and speak through the radio.

“What computer should I even use for that?” she asked brusquely.

“There should be one in storage, if you need spare parts you are more than welcome to have a scavenge. Just remember what you used,” Wick answered, coming back inside as he finished, grabbing headless just the same.

“Right,” she confirmed with a nod, then walked in the direction of the stairs to the storage room followed by a few Lauxes who had been playing on the now removed corpses. She pulled of her suit as she approached the bedroom, pulling of the now roasting suit. She descended the stairs, feeling the heat that permeated the ship from its overstressed engines, coolant pipes thrumming through the ship as they ran at full pelt attempting to bail out as much heat as possible, the dim orange lights that illuminated the bowels of the ship only accentuating the feeling.

Cass slouched as she walked, though having more headroom than Wick as she walked, mostly due to exhaustion. She tiredly walked down the thin hall, flanked on either side by cargo strapped behind steel frames by frayed brown cabling, boxes, crates and drums bulging from the faces of the walls. Her bare feet clacked softly on the steel floor as she walked, looking around the store for a label that could point her in the right direction, and then stepping in a pool of cold water. She pulled her foot back slightly and looked up, seeing a pipe dripping water from a mostly melted cladding of ice that had built-up on it. She ducked under the pipe, feeling the ambient heat of it near her neck as she did and crept further in, staring at the various signage that told her what was in what, Wick meticulous to the end.

As she searched she felt the ship lurch underfoot, slowly lifting up and trudging forward at a distinctly slower pace than before. Cass looked up, curious where Wick was taking the ship, but put it aside as she set herself back to her task. She found what declared itself to hold computers, rather than just raw components, and unlatched the cabling that was hooked in a ‘x’ in front of it. But, as soon as she pulled out and back the top left hook of the canvas cable a number of boxes slipped past it and slammed into her chest, winding her as she scrambled to grab it, trying to stop everything from falling out of it. She gripped the large white box with both of her arms as she strained against it, struggling more due to surprise than a lack of strength. A pair of small boxes slid over its top, bumping into Cass’s forehead. She worked her hands down the sides until she found the bottom edge of the box and pushed it back into place, the crate underneath it rocking slightly as she did, one of the small boxes on its top falling to the floor with a heavy thump.   

She winced at the sound, leaning down to examine the box. It was medium sized, made of white card and sealed with masking tape, black marker on the tape saying it contained a sixty-three-pin connector. She smiled widely as she read it, having found the right connector for the secondary module of the black box. As she smiled to herself the large white box shifted in the pile and slipped out, landing with a heavy thud on the steel floor. Her smile remained on her face but quickly became one of undisturbed panic.

“Fuck,” she blurted out, freezing for a moment before going over to the box. It was labelled ‘WIP PC’, which didn’t inspire confidence in the neidr. She sliced open the box, using her claw to sever the tape holding it shut, then opened it up and was surprised by the contents. It was a quite modern PC, the tall rectangular frame surrounded by bubble-wrap packing, the inside filled with high-spec hardware wrapped up either in the factory boxes, or second-hand in careful anti-static wrapping. Cass went through it, looking over the various components, along with pulling out a thin, long box that was wedged into the bottom short edge of the box. Inside was a mechanical keyboard, mouse, and a bag of key-caps seemingly made of ceramic.

“This’ll work,” she grinned to herself as she tossed everything back into the box along with the box containing the sixty-three pin connector before hefting it easily up into her arms and taking it back up to the living room. She could see Wick in the cockpit, bent over the main console as he flew the ship, a bottle of what looked like water sat half-drained at his feet, his movements drifting in rapid lethargy over the controls. She set down the box on the table, turning to Wick, about to ask if she could use the computer.

“Yeah that one’s fine to use,” he answered brusquely before she could even voice the question, surprising the neidr.

“Alright then,” she called back before beginning to set up the PC. Wick was silent as Cass assembled the computer, taking the longest trying to connect the sixty-three-pin connector to the device. When it was assembled, she primed the water-cooling circuit on the device, making sure it was full before finding somewhere to plug it in.

She went into the bedroom, the small room being pitch black with a number of lauxes staring with glowing expressions a her until she flicked on the light. She dropped the computer on a small side table in the opposite corner to the cots, near the door. The room lacked any screens, so she quickly went and grabbed a small monitor from the spares, bolting it to the wide side of the computer case before powering it on. It hummed to life as Cass crouched next to it by the badly painted contract white walls, the keyboard sat in her lap and the mouse on the floor with a Duke Nukem mouse-pad she had borrowed from the game room.

It hummed to life, the sounds of flowing water mingling with the dull hum of electronics. The monitor blinked on, Cass then having to go through the various rigmaroles of setting up an account though whenever it came to verification the software filled it itself and blitzed through, which she pinned to Wick’s interference. When it loaded, the home screen only having icons for edge and Linux, she pressed the long black box card into the socket, making sure it was firmly seated in the slot. It flashed onto the screen, the computer showing a window filled with a few large files with incomprehensible titles, all locked and requiring various decoders. She set to decoding them, running a number or decoders in the Linux window all the while making sure the files didn’t self corrupt to avoid being discovered, repeatedly sending saver prompts every other moment.   

Wick, meanwhile was sat in the cockpit, repeatedly checking through The Wayfarer for places close to the ship they could hide, expectantly glancing at the radar and ships camera’s as they went while nervously eying the fuel readouts. For the moment he was heading for somewhere to refuel, knowing the rough area where it would be. He strained his tired eyes searching for it for a long while until the spec of a destination came into view, much to Wick’s relief as the engines were practically running on fumes by this point.

As they approached the destination came into proper detail. It was a small satellite, a polygonal ovoid in shape, painted a deep red, white stripes set in bands around its diameter. Large sails of solar panels thrust in a pair from the top and bottom of the satellites centre. There were a type of service stop intended for ships making long journeys, though often viewed more akin to a celestial alpine hut used by mountaineers, coincidentally inspiring the branding for the satellites, a single unlit match left atop of a matchbox. They were usually stocked full of fuel, along with some basic supplies of food which could be taken as needed. It was a model that relied on self-restraint, relying on pilots not taking more than they needed and leaving payment or something in exchange, which was usually taken by those who were sent to resupply it as bonuses. The whole thing was subsidised by a myriad of groups, ranging from independent nations, corporate bodies or simply charities, each for their own reasons.

Wick brought the ship parallel to the satellite’s tip, powering off the engines, carefully lining up with its dock using RCS until they were locked together. The ship juddered for a moment as it locked into the satellite. Wick took his hands off the controls and leant back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes for a moment before dragging himself up from the chair, stretching as he did. He strode into the living room and bent down to look under the table, pulling up a rectangular panel on the floor beneath it revealing a small boxy shaped drum bearing a pair of dials and a half-covered valve wheel. Wick grabbed the exposed section of the wheel and twisted it about thirty degrees, hearing a loud rubber clunk echo from inside it. He stood back up, bending past the table, and turned to go to the airlock taking a detour to grab a bottle from the fridge. He unlocked the airlock, stale, unlived in air quickly darting into his lungs in a mad attempt to break its own isolation.

The interior of the satellite in many ways resembled a warehouse, stores of food, water and various mechanical components stacked high in neatly organised crates or boxes. Though, some things were clearly taken more often than others. He found the terminal connected to the fuel tanker, the dumb-terminal flickering with its outdated ATM style screen. He tabbed through the options for fuel type before finding the one he wanted. When he had selected it, there was a buzzing hum before the sound of a mechanical valve shuttering dully sounded through the station. The terminal screen flickered to a poor quality camera showing the side of Wick’s ship, coming from a small one on the end of the fuel cable external to the ship. Normally Wick would do it himself, connecting the pipe manually while in a spacesuit, but he hadn’t had time to repair the tear on it and didn’t want to waste any time. The pipe connected to a faucet near the normal external fuel port, akin to those used when air-air refuelling, locking in when it came over it and delivering a prompt on the monitor on whether to send over fuel. Wick tapped the confirm key and twisted open the bottle he had brought, a bottle of cold root-beer, and took a swig of it enjoying the taste.

He watched the escalating number on the screen as fuel was dumbed into the tanks on the ship, two large ones on each side of the ship, usually ran separately but could be filled the same when the valve was opened. Wick knew exactly how much fuel they could each hold, and that it would take while as the rate these satellites refuelled, limited so as to still be viable for yet smaller ships than Wick’s. It took over an hour to refuel, Wick boredly waiting by the terminal so as to not overfill the tanks using the time to rest his eyes as well.

When it was full, Wick shutting off the flow a couple of litres before it was totally topped off, he shoved in a few large bills into the machine then turned to walk back to his ship. He could feel his body hanging off his bones, ungainly from exhaustion as he walked back to his ship. As soon as he got back onto the ship, Cass stormed up to him with a frazzled expression, the remains of a freshly broken sleep clear on her face.

“I found something,” she snapped, moving to corner Wick as she did.

“What?” Wick asked simply, Cass looking at him with a wild smile.

“It wasn’t exact but I was able to find co-ordinates of the original starting point of the ship! I couldn’t get the intended final destination, the flight plan either wasn’t on it or got corrupted. But, if we find where they set off from it should give us a clue from where they wanted to go to or at the very least have some blackmail we can use as leverage,” she presented proudly, puffing out her chest.

“What are the co-ordinates then?” Wick asked.

“Oh, here,” Cass replied, handing Wick a hastily scrawled note of a very long number. Wick looked at it with a passive expression as Cass continued, “I don’t know exactly where they lead to, but they shouldn’t be hard to figure out…”

“I recognise some of it, but I’ll have to check it in The Wayfarer… Well done Cass,” he added before turning to go into the cockpit. Cass smiled to herself and went over to grab some food. Wick flicked through the small book, holding it one handed and feeling the rough blue card on his fingertips. He pulled the ship away from the satellite and moved into empty space while he read, so as not to block the satellite. Eventually he found the planet that seemed to be the origin of the ship. It was one of the more scarcely documented locations in the book, saying it was a planet largely comprised of wetlands or moors, with some dryer areas. It apparently wasn’t too hostile. He entered the co-ordinates and began planning a flight path, checking through the book for any major obstacles in his path, the computer likely able to maneuverer around some of the smaller ones.

When he had fully entered the path, he set the ship off, flicking off the cockpits lights as he stood up to leave. Cass glanced at him as he walked past, looking up from her dinner with a curious expression.

“Where are you going?” she asked innocuously, shoving a baked-bean covered hashbrown into her mouth.

“Sleep, I have not slept in multiple days, and I am about to collapse. Unless Satan himself comes to the airlock I don’t expect to be woken up,” Wick said flatly, with a bite of cold murder in his tone.

“… Right, have a good rest then,” Cass replied warily, though with a slight bit of bemused scepticism.  

“Thank you.” Wick went into his room, removing the clothes he had pulled on to enter the satellite, and flopping down into bed quickly falling asleep in the dark room. Cass lingered in the living room, finishing her dinner, particularly enjoying a trio of venison sausages she had found squired away in the freezer. She watched films for a while, taking a moment to clean her pistol though not too thoroughly. Eventually she fell asleep, stretched out across the sofa, the white noise of the TV drifting like a half-known lullaby. They both slept for hours.

Wick was rudely shaken from his sleep by the pealing noise of an alarm. He blinked his bleary, tired eyes, still with deep bags even after the rest, and turned his head up from his pillow. His faculties slowly assembled themselves, allowing him to parse out the meaning of the alarm, a ship approaching and from Cass’s distant, infuriated yells from the front of the ship a hostile one. Wick grumbled, a sour grimace pulled across his face as he reached over to the bedside table near him, the one he usually placed his tapette player on, and opened one of the draws and reached in. He pulled out a deeply blued revolver with wooden grips, marks of heavy repair and loving care equally seen on the piece, specifically a S&W model 19-3, a K-frame revolver. He pressed open the swing-out cylinder and single loaded six rounds of .357 into it, pressing the cylinder closed before taking a number of cartridges between the finger of his left hand before walking out of his room, wearing half-pulled on red button-down shirt and pale grey shorts he’d quickly pulled on.

He swayed over to the living room: he saw Cass scrambling inside the cockpit yelling as she tried to force the ship to move and override the auto-pilot, which she was failing to do, to evade what apparently were pirates. Wick guessed they had likely been stalking the rest satellite and had caught up with them. He heard the sound of heavy clanking as they pounded on the ships’ exterior, Cass yelling to him as she desperately tried to get the ship away while the pirates worked on the inner airlock door. He ignored her, walking lethargically towards the door which suddenly flew open, a thin man with pale skin, short blonde hair and a sharp, violent expression led the charge in a red and black space suit.

Wick fired his revolver at his head, the blonde visage quickly turned into a bloody mess as his body fell ungracefully to the ground as Wick wore a disinterested expression. Another two raced forward one after the other, each meeting the same fate, .357 hollow-point blooming cruelly into their skulls as the roar of the cartridge rang through the steel drum of a ship. Wick continued, holding the revolver one handed, firing one more round to make sure they didn’t push forward so easily. He reached with his left hand to the draws under the shelf at his right and pulling out an industrial looking grenade. He held the revolver up near his chest as he hooked the loop of the pin over his thumb before yanking it out, holding onto the lever of the grenade, letting it loose as he came right up to the door then chucked it through it.

It was silent for a moment as Wick reloaded the revolver, then suddenly hearing the desperate cry of ‘Grenade! Watch-‘, being cut off by a ringing explosion that reverberated through both ships. Wick walked forward ahead of the airlock, then sensed something behind him and bent over backwards in an unsettling pose to see a singular remaining pirate, his right side already soaked by blood, holding a tubular looking SMG in his weak hand. His expression already twisted in pain flushed in a look of angered bewilderment at Wick’s odd movement, just before Wick fired two shots in rapid succession, one skating the steel panel near his boot and the other digging hard into the space between his ribs and his collar bone on his top left side. He fell back with a curse, dropping his weapon uselessly beside him. Wick twisted around in an unsettling motion so he was back to standing, now facing into the airlock, ignoring the bewildered, albeit strangely impressed, gaze of Cass from the cockpit.

Wick walked leisurely over to the airlock, stepping over the piled bodies of the three now headless pirates. There was some scorching on Wick’s side of the airlock, which he made a mental note to repair, but the most damage was on the pirates ship, as could be seen by the blasted corpses of three more pirates flung up against the walls, the final man wheezing fitfully as he lay on the ground. Wick approached, kicking away the man’s SMG as he tried to grope for the weapon the grey weapon skating across the deck underneath it. The man glared furiously up at Wick, attempting to summon up red fury to his face as bloody rapidly drained from it.

“You fffucker…! I’ll get you for tthis, you won’t get away with it!” he spat, struggling to force out the words past his lips. Wick didn’t respond, simply levelling his revolver at the man’s temple and firing, the panting man quickly falling silent. Wick looked down at the corpse for a moment before spinning on a heel and walking towards Cass, lingering in the airlock.

“… Is there anything worth taking on this ship?” he asked flatly.

“For a Nickol ship, not likely, they tend to run with the bare essentials and supplement the rest with loot. Besides that, everything on here has been over more fences than a show pony,” Cass remarked, looking dismissively at the bodies around her. Wick nodded, trusting her on the matter.

“Then we leave it,” he stated bluntly, reaching over to a panel by the door and typing in a few things, before lights flashed above the door and Wick shoved Cass back to their ship, the pirate’s door wheeling shut behind them as Wick pulled them over to their side, slamming the door just as the airlock tunnel detached and the ship rapidly fell behind as Wick’s ship raced forward on its auto-pilot. They both stood by the door for a second in silence, the rush of adrenaline sifting from both of their senses.

“… We should have probably dumped the bodies we have in there,” Cass remarked after a moment.

“Yeah,” Wick flatly agreed, letting his response hand in silence as the smell of blood drifted behind them. Slowly Cass fell into a chortling laugh, Wick sighing as she did, the twist of a smile flashing privately on his face.

“Ohh, shit! I was freaking out so much!” she laughed out, retrospect making her reason amusing to her.

“Considering you’re a pirate yourself I’d have thought you’d be better with this kind of stuff,” he teased in a monotone voice, turning to look at her before going over to the living room, steeping over the bodies, now laying in soiled clothes.

“Normally I can steer my ship away, or at least fire back,” she commented as Wick went over and found a pack of tobacco and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a disposable lighter in a drawer nearby.

“For next time, it’s the green switch underneath the front lip of the console,” he explained dully, Cass wearing an exhausted expression as she was told the information.

“Why didn’t you just make it so it switched off when you tried the controls!” she yelled exasperatedly, throwing her arms up into the air as she grabbed a drink from the fridge.

“I didn’t exactly have much experience in building spacecraft, alright! It fucking works don’t it?” he finished, an irate sneer on his face as smoke trickled between his teeth. Cass glared at him for a moment before sighing and rolling her head along with her eyes.

“Fine, fair enough… You were pretty cool just now though. I didn’t know you were so flexible,” Cass commented as the two walked over to the bodies.

“Hm, oh, yeah. It fucks with people when you can bend like that in a fight,” Wick commented absentmindedly, almost as if they were trying to usher the subject along. Cass dropped it, not greatly interested anyway.

“So what do you want to do with these fuck’s anyway?” she asked, nudging one of the bodies with the toe of her boot. Wick considered it for a moment, thinking something over before answering.

“Go get your suit, I’ll drag them all out into the airlock then you can let them all out. Let me make sure that all of the compartments seal properly though,” he instructed, grabbing one of the headless bodies and hefting it into the airlock.

“Right,” Cass replied, downing the last dregs of drink in her can before walking off to collect her spacesuit. She found it quickly, having taking it back down into the depths of the ship, and pulled it on over her clothes, leaving the helmet for last. When she came back Wick had already deposited the bodies into the airlock, now checking that the small cabinets and compartments in the chamber locked shut properly. When he saw her approach he stepped out of the airlock to let her go past, making sure she had her magnet boots active before he closed the inner door. Cass walked over and opened the door, standing profile to it as the trio were sucked out by the snapping vacuum, the lifeless forms thrashing along with the air as it was dragged out into the black, glittering absence outside the door. Cass stared out into it for a moment, feeling a chill from the sight, before pulling the airlock door back-to and locking it shut.

Air hissed back into the space, Cass taking her helmet off as soon as it was re-pressured, Wick open the door behind her. “Thanks,” Wick said flatly, stepping next to Cass.

“No problem… Do you know how long it’ll be till we get there?” she called back, going to take off her suit.

“Two weeks about. Possibly longer since I don’t want to redline the engines much,” Wick yelled, looking over his now unloaded revolver, cleaning it carefully before locking it back shut and walking over to his bedroom to resume his sleep, an exhausted expression still lingering on his face. Cass gave a light grimace to herself but left it at that, planning how she would while away the time until they arrived at their final destination.

The two weeks went by slowly, the pair whiling away the time maintain the ship or indulging in hobbies or entertainment. There weren’t any significant hold ups after their encounter with the pirates, the route the ship took them on keeping well in low-traffic areas, occasionally running the scrambler on the ship’s registry to break up tracking they might be doing, or attempts to find where they had passed through.

They came close to the planet early on Sunday morning, about 4:37 by Wick’s mark, the large sphere looming ahead of them. It was greenish in colour, like the colour of algae and moss, with some streaks of blue and blots of red visible even at distance. The planet lacked a formal name, its official title being related to its area code along with some military codes. But, in the Wayfarer, it was likely more colloquially called ‘Namlay’, for whatever reason. There was little traffic around the planet, suggesting little in the way of outside connections, but then, as they approached they noticed something that suggested otherwise. A number of UN satellites, all drabbed in the standard light blue, slowly orbited the green planet. They all looked like communication satellites, not any designed for point defence or to look for external threats. The sight unnerved and comforted Wick in equal measure. While it seemed that the UN didn’t have too much of a marshal presence, it also meant that the planet was far more populated than he had thought.

As he brought the ship close, he could make out a settlement on the planet, deciding to land there rather than risk the untested ground of the moors and thick, wetland forests beyond. As the ship descended the down through the stratosphere the general layout of the place came into view. It was a sprawling looking place, houses squat to the ground and packed in tight in half-planned housing that looked utterly random to the birds-eye. There were a long bay of what were marked out to be landing pads, a trio of large square pads made of faded grey tarmac marked with a white circle outline inside a square line, the entire platform raised up from the ground like everything else and ringed on the back and sides by small, 45 degree fencing, pointing outwards from the pads. Wick brought the ship down on the far-right pad, the landing gear coming out far smoother this time.

He switched off the engines then turned to call back into the ship, “Cass, we’ve landed you ready?” standing up from his seat before she responded.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” Cass called, walking into the living room in a pair of light brown shorts, a similar coloured shirt underneath her usual flak jacket though now wearing a heavy duty pair of boots on her feet. She looked at Wick, wearing a pair of baggy jungle camo-trousers, pleated near the top and buttoned near the heel, along with a desert-safari style of army shirt with shoulder loops, wearing a light cream coloured fleece overtop which hanged loosely at the edge of his shoulders.

“There seems to be a UN presence here, so I don’t think you should take anything they could notice,” Wick told her, grabbing the Dryse 1907 from the wall along with a loaded magazine of .32 ACP which he tucked into the back pocket of his trousers, leaving the pistol unloaded.

“Right, right…” Cass replied dismissively, strapping her pistol into a slot near her flak-vest. Wick opened the inner airlock door, checking to make sure the lauxes didn’t follow them out instead lounging around the fridge and on the kitchen counter.

When they opened the external door and stepped out onto the landing pad they were med with a bright midday sun, ahead of the time Wick’s watch called it, and the feeling of damp, humid air, heavy with water and the smell of myriad alien flora. The pad despite having three spaces was quite small, the tarmac underfoot dry pitted where it was covered while moss and weeds threatened the corners. A single soldier lingered at what acted as the entrance and exit, a tall section of steel chain-link fence braced together with bolt links, a heavy steel door the only real strong point of the security bar from the solider. The man in question, about 5’11 and looking to be in his late twenties, wore the usual blue UN helmet, a jungle-camo uniform fit loose over his form, the collar done loosely near his collar exposing a pair of dog-tags, painted with a blue stripe on its back. He wore a blank insignia, indicating he was just an enlisted man not an officer, along with the Armenian flag on the shoulder of his sleeve.

As he saw the pair approach, he shifted to look at the pair, though still loosely holding his rifle, a Kalashnikov pattern of rifle, in his hands. “Afternoon,” he coldly greeted in a thick accent, the ‘g’ sounding more like a ‘k’.

“Afternoon,” Wick replied flatly as the man put out his left hand, still gripping his rifle with the other.

“Papers, please,” he stated monotone, lost in the mechanical repetition of his assignment. Both Cass and Wick handed over their ID, small passport sized documents, which he took, the Tudor watch on his wrist, the standard issue for the UN, saying it was about twenty-five to one as the man began his examination. Both were forged, obviously, well only to anyone who knew the pair. The man took the documents, finally shouldering his weapon as he decided they weren’t a threat. Wick glanced around the bay, seeing a number of UN signs along with warnings, but the most interesting was a non-descript blue sign that hung near the soldier, declaring the whole site to be a refugee camp, specifically 5585-12-0101-7 Echo November Tango… Ent. Well, that explained what the place was at least.

The solider went through the documents silently, then turned to Wick, “Right, this seems to be in order…” he finished, handing the documents to Wick who shoved the stained white booklet into his pocket. He started on Cass’s next, a look of scrutiny coming onto his face soon after to the notice of the pair. He pulled the booklet down from his eyes with an apologetic but cold look on his face, “I apologize but I there are some problems with your documentations. You’ll have to wait until IO get this checked,” he replied, shifting to grab a walkie-talkie on his equipment webbing.

The pair quickly squinted their eyes at the man. “Fuck, honestly I thought they’d stopped this,” Wick complained, turning to Cass, catching the man by surprise, “I thought they’d finally stopped doing this to neidr’s. They made a big fuss out of it too,” Wick continued the soldiers look of confusion quickly turning to one of addled terror.

“Every time I try and get through one of these places, you lot always stop me. What, am I that big of a fucking threat to you?” Cass berated quickly jumping off from Wick’s comment.

The man babbled back in response, blindsided by the insinuation, “Wh- I’m, no, that’s not what I was trying to do! I ah…” he pleaded a petrified expression on his face, glancing down at the documents in his hand, “ah, fine, your free to go through. It wasn’t anything of massive concern anyway,” he replied, quailing from the comments.

“Thank you,” Cass replied harshly, making the soldier wince as he turned to open the door.

“Just don’t report this please, or get caught doing something stupid,” the man asked as he faced his back to the pair, the sound of a lock cutting the pair off before they could answer. He swung open the dark green door, the clunk of its hinges rattling the fence as the pair were allowed through it, walking into the small alley beyond, sandwiched between two prefab buildings either side of the rear of the landing pad. The pair shared a mischievous smile as they stepped down the street, brushing past another Un soldier walking up to the gate, this one a tall bi-pedal felid alien, with smaller eyes under the corners of the main, all deep red and lacking pupils, with a pattern that resembled a tigers. He glanced curiously at the pair as he walked by then went to enter the landing bay. The pair could hear the angry voice of the human soldier from before demanding where he’d been, saying he could have used his help… Much to the pairs amusement.

The settlement soon crowded around them as they walked down the alley into what seemed a main street. Everything was raised on platforms up from the waters below, concrete stilts falling deep into the water, painted a now stained white, supporting what looked like reinforced pre-fabricated panels laid as an tossed up throughfare. Squat, deep buildings crowded the street, elbowing their neighbour past for access to it, as if ramshackle tent camps had simple woke up as buildings the next day, painted in contract white and UN blue, though some were left as cinderblock and concrete. People lingered at various points in the street, dressed in squalid, threadbare clothes either clinging to the safety of whatever shade they could find or suffering in duty as they waited in long lines to packed soup kitchens, stores and vendors, clutching ration cards and petty cash, knuckles white as they gripped hard over a shrapnel of coins.

Small, drawn out pools of water lay in the square gutters, failed to drain in the damp air, the area around them damp, a few small lizards and incest skittering around them. The pair received wary, but ultimately disinterred looks from those around them, drawn and wearied faces watching the new as they walked by. UN soldiers patrolled through the street, walking past the pair as they walked, dressed similarly to the soldiers at the front, only now wearing a blue stab vest overtop of their uniform, one man in the pair carrying a medic pack on their back per every six soldiers. The were equipped differently from the other man, instead holding white-painted SMG’s, block with Veselý type magazines, an oddly deep magazine resembling two stick magazines welded together front-to-back. The magazines were a clear plastic showing the ammunition inside, seemingly live ammunition, though they also carried crowd clearing weapons. One of them looked over at Wick, giving him a scrutinizing look for a moment before his partners ushered him on, the soldier giving a tributary nod to Wick before moving on.

“… Well, were here at least,” Wick said as the pair lingered at the corner of a house, near a narrow creek of an alley, stabbed into by window sills, exposed pipes, wires and various flotsam of human presence over a wooden slatted floor, a likely display of what the main avenue began as, and what the camp beyond it remained. “We’ve just got to find where it might be specifically,” he added, glancing down at Cass as they both looked out over the sunbaked street filled with various refuges, all with different complexions, mostly human but a good number of various aliens.

“Don’t worry, we just need to find a map or something. There should be a bunch of people at a bar or something, we should look there,” Cass replied in blind confidence, a Cheshire cat smile falling onto her face. Wick looked down at her with a tired expression.

“If you want a drink you can just say so,”

“I want a drink!” she reasserted, puffing her chest out, causing her sour companion to chuckle slightly.

“Yeah, I second that. Let’s go find a bar then,” Wick agreed in a monotone voice, lurching forward from the wall to continue further into the camp. After they left the main throughfare near the pads, the place quickly became a bit worse for wear, graffiti popping up on the small, entangled buildings as children ran through the streets or over rooves, either ditching school or simply not having an opportunity to go, flotsam and jetsam clustered in corners while tired looking sweepers tried to clear up. A few buildings appeared to double as shops, the few who had money to spare coming to snap up what was there while others languished jobless around them. Despite their newness, the structures seemed worn down, built on the cheap with what seemed like multiple families in many of them, all long single story buildings, a few daring to push up to a second. Alleys snaked around as cracks between the monkeys knot of buildings, revealing through the dark further streets and rows of houses beyond. The streets eventually morphed into treated wood, shrinking as compared to the concrete lanes from earlier, lacking any difference between a road and pavement, not that a single car or the like was in use here. The planks bowed from the heat, single slatted and often just two lone planks leading to the doors of buildings, now increasing made of simple wooden, raised on stilts and sealed by dark blue tarp that fluttered from the intermittent breeze. More solid buildings were spattered between every other lane with faces pockmarked by water faucets or labelled for waste.

They continued through the west side of the settlement, the humid air hanging over their shoulders and only exacerbating the sweltering heat and smell of the place. It smelt of iron and damp concrete along with smell of filth and starvation. Eventually they came to a wide street once again, emerging from a long dingy alley that shielded them from the sun. The flash of sunlight bleached everything white for a moment as they stepped out, the irregular shapes of solders and the wandering forms of workmen drifting through the street as supplies were lugged through the claustrophobic space. A pair of rails cut through the centre of the street, though they weren’t electrified, with a small platform set up around it.

Cass and Wick went over to it, the route displayed on a small steel pole fixed into a raised platform surrounding the rail. “Hey, it says it goes by a bar!” Cass commented, pointing to a bit of graffiti on the sign, surrounding a few of the stops saying what was nearby, the most relevant being the No. 25 stop labelled bar in English and Esperanto.

“Let’s take the train then, looks like its quite far from here,” Wick mused, glancing down the line to see if the thing was in site. As Cass and Wick waited, a few more came up to the platform, one or two soldiers going to their posts for the day or finishing from the morning shift, some refugees lingering silently or talking to the ones closest to them and a great deal of builders and couriers, carrying crates supplies and amenities, sweating under the unmerciful sun above at the uncanopied platform. After about thirty minuets, both Cass and Wick linger nonchalantly while glancing around for anyone who looked suspicious, boiling in the damp heat they heard the sound of something approaching on the tracks.

What came up the narrow gauge tracks was not quite what they expected.

It was a Shay type engine, the pistons set to one side of the boiler working a flexible drive shaft, meaning the boiler itself was set to one side of the frame, to balance out the weight. The livery was a mix of UN blue and a deep black. The boiler had a square frame over the top of it, almost making it more resemble a diesel-electric train, but the prominent Giesl funnel pumping out smoke gave it away. The train lacked a tender behind it, instead instantly leading to a set of carriages. The carriages were mainly steel frames, resembling old soviet tram cabs, painted UN blue and white, the latter stained by water damage and soot. The workmen and couriers all went to a set of flat-bed trailers near the rear of the train, set behind the two passenger cabins and a water tanker painted a dark blue. A UN soldier opened the cab door from inside, standing aside with it to allow people to bustle into the train, most alighting from the door opposite.

The pair stepped in with the crowd, Wick glancing at the soldier to see if he was taking a headcount, but the man, the same species as the second guard from the landing bay though much smaller in stature seemed thoroughly uninterested. The pair found a seat, benches made of hollow rectangular tubes that protruded from the wall to make a bench shape, and sat down. There were lights in the car, near the awnings of the roof, but none were on leaving the car in half darkness where the sun could not invade the space to attack the glut of passengers stuffing themselves inside, even standing to get on. When it seemed that everyone had boarded the train, the soldier shut the door, using a horizontal lever which shut the tram-style doors, locking when it reached the end of travel. He then strode further down the cab to reach the passenger carriage behind. He was gone for a few moments, a few passengers sneaking after him in search of better seating, then came back, striding to the far end of the car. He stood by a small wooden chair at the end, near a thin door with a rectangular porthole and used a lever like the doors to open the glass.

“Everyone’s on. Get going,” he ordered in a flat voice, shutting the window and flopping down in the chair, making a show of the pistol at his waist. The train jerked forward before levelling out and quickly accelerating. Light trailed in square patterns across the passenger car as it went forward, wind blowing through small horizontal vent slats that could be opened or closed with a small lever at the side, all sat under the large flat glass windows.

Both Cass and Wick surmised from the soldier’s attitude that the service was free, Looking out of the window to watch the rushing scene of the camp outside, the smell of woodsmoke drifting back from the engine. The large settlement flew past the window of the train cab, wooden shanties flashing between concrete slums, sunbaked and water-stained with a patina of rust decorating every bare inch of metal. There was little said when the train came to a sudden, but rather soft, stop at each platform each silent faced passenger standing up if it was their final destination while the singular guard watched, finally signalling the footplate crew to go forward when he decided he had waited long enough. At certain points, the various buildings that crowded the streets fell away, leaving the narrow rail, sometimes flanked with rickety wooden pathways with rusty chest-high fencing bordering the train from the water below. It was at these spaced that you could see some of the internals of the settlement. The raw backs of houses and UN buildings, crisscrossing wires, loose, unsupported piping hanging near the burdened supports of the stilted cities foundations, coiled by burgeoning pond weed, roots and algae as they sat in shallower water or deep in soft ground.

The settlement spread out like long, zig-zagging creeks, breaking again and again into smaller strains as they broke against old obstacles, sometimes ending outright, the concrete promontories wrapping the empty salients of river water and shifting peat bogs below as concrete and wooden shanties clung close to the winding creeks like river-reeds, clustering at the strangled deltas and falling away as the creeks fell too deep or too harsh, only to spring back up as soon as they were able though not always as thick and lush, always twisting and strangling their neighbour to scrape under their own base safe ground to root themselves upon.

When they got to their stop, nearly two hours had passed, the mid afternoon cooling as some clouds began to drift near to the settlement from overhead. When the pair stepped out of the cab, thankful for the waning of the baleful sun overhead, the place was in distinctly worse shape than the rest. The concrete rail foundations soon stopped at the curb as it met with shanties, tents and others, packed looser around the street.

The pair spotted a sign, written in block capitals, stating the direction to the bar. They navigated down a narrow, rickety alley, made of the now typical wood, various small shelters jutting onto it, the occasionally newly built one of concrete or cinderblock sitting heavy by it, coated in half-removed graffiti.

The façade of the bar came into view shortly after. It was a longer building than most of them, white painted plaster was laid thinly over the wooden frame, blacked out windows one either end of the front with a large, green steel door at the front. The street astride of it was wide, though still made of wood, houses giving the building a wider berth than usual. Cass strode forward first, distinctly thirsty after the long trip, and pushed open the heavy doors as Wick followed her inside. The room inside was darkly lit, blackout blinds hung over each of the windows, filled with about thirty people even in the rather small space, sitting quietly or engrossed in loud, private conversations wailing about their sufferings and losses. Bar lights hummed slightly overhead, falling into a mechanical duet with a large dehumidifier in the corner of the room, broken by the weak peal of an old looking radio. The pair received some looks from the patrons of the place, mostly the quiet ones, but were otherwise ignored.

When they approached the bar, the man behind it, a tired, unenthused young man with long black hair done up in a loose pony tail, large strands falling about his face turned to us. “What will you have?”

“Three bottles of whatever’s cheap and whatever’s nice,” Cass bluntly ordered, sitting down on a bar stool in front of him. He nodded then glanced up at Wick.

“Vodka, and some chips, a portion each,” Wick answered, gesturing to Cass as well.

“Do you want fish as well?” the young man asked monotone, sounding somewhat similar to Wick.

“Yes,” Wick answered, the man then going off to what seemed to be the kitchen through a door in the back. Cass watched him leave, leaning on the bar top.

“He speaks a lot like you,” she commented absentmindedly, Wick not saying anything back, “better looking though,” she teased, a sly grin on her face as she looked up at Wick, receiving a sour look from the man in return. The young man returned after a moment and grabbed a set of three, thick, almost industrial glasses, semi-opaque and rather square similar to bourbon glasses, and set them up in a line in front of Cass, quarter filled with crushed ice. He grabbed a pale green bottle and poured it out between the three, not shy with the amount. Cass grabbed one as he pulled away, moving to grab a taller pint glass which he filled with ice and vodka, the latter coming from a blue coloured bottle covered with polish.

Cass drained the glass quickly, smacking her lips as she ended the drought of her person. The drink was bitter sweet, tasting of elderflower and cheap Hopps. When the barkeeper placed Wick’s glass in front of him, Wick reached for his wallet, “how much?”

“Call it thirty-five,” the man responded flatly, taking the notes as Wick handed them over, counting them in a glance before shoving them into a worn looking register. Wick silently took a sip of his drink while Cass took another mouthful of her drink, then looked back up the unoccupied young man. Cass sat silently, taking a moment to cool off while Wick sipped at his drink, glancing at the one other person who now joined the bar, a half-starved man with dark skin and hair, the latter pressed under a skullcap, slouching as he sat at the bar in concrete stained overalls.

The fish and chips came after a couple of minutes, smelling fresh and warm, the young barkeeper placing a pot of salt before the pair along with two sets of wooden utensils. Cass hoovered up the meal, Wick not sluggish either, neither having eaten all day. When she had gulped down the last of the fish, washing it down with the remainder of her second glass, Cass looked up at the unoccupied barman, the disinterested young man idly watching the inside of the pub. “Hey,” she spoke up to the young man, getting his attention, turning his head slightly to look at the neidr, “do you have any idea where someone would try to hide something in this place?” she bluntly asked in a slightly too loud voice.

Wick glanced at her with a suspicious look, but left her too it as he sipped at his drink, then skewering a number of chips onto his fork. “What do you mean?” he asked darkly, squinting his eyes at her.

“Like a secret project, military base or the like,” she led, waiving her hand flippantly as she leant on the bar. He regarded her silently for a long moment, a distrustful look clear on his face, seeming to pull back.

“… Nothing comes to mind,” he eventually stated, inspecting the pair for their reaction. Cass simply shrugged her shoulders in response.

“Fair enough, just thought I’d ask,” she dismissed, going back to eating her chips, Wick already finished by this point. The barman looked up at Wick for some insight, Wick giving him a blank look and shrugging lightly as he held his glass, then drained it right after. The sound of the buildings doors being flung open echoed through the place, stilting the dull noise of the place as people turned to look at who entered, Wick glancing at the reflection of them in a scuffed mirror on the wall behind the bar. A group of five blokes strode through the door, muscled and harsh faced. The lead one, a boxy-faced man with a crooked nose wearing grey trousers, plaster stained brown oxfords and a thin blue canvas jacket over a matching shirt, both stained with equal parts concrete and blood, the latter concentrating at the cuffs.

He glowered at a man looking up at him, the smaller face quickly turning away, hiding behind their own back. What interest he’d inspired soon was diluted, people ignoring the group as the man showered the room, then thundered toward the bar. He stopped just behind Wick and Cass, sneering down at he pair, who both ignored him.

“OI, shove it!” he ordered brutishly, a dark look on his face.

“What?” Wick asked in disinterested voice, not tuning to face him, Cass ignoring him as well, drinking from her final glass.

“You’re in my seat, get the fuck out,” he insisted in a gravelly tone, neither taking notice of him as the bartender moved down the bar.

“We’re sat in it so I don’t think it’s yours,” Cass commented teasingly, polishing off the last of her chips as the man fumed, “we’ll go when were done, shouldn’t take more than a couple seconds,” Cass finished, grabbing her glass again.

“No,” he said firmly

“Fine, we-” Wick began, turning around in his chair to face the man, wearing a tired expression, before the man firmly punched him straight in the face, his head being flung back so he was bent over the bar while he still sat in the seat. The man grinned cruelly to himself, then Wick lurched back forward, gripping his pint glass in his hand, and smashed it over the man’s forehead.

The leader stumbled back, blood dribbling from his scalp as glass shards tinkled onto the floor and what little vodka remaining seared into his wounds. Wick glowed at him with a grit frown, hopping off from the chair as the guys friends rushed forward, a pair going toward Cass who got up from her chair with an irate expression.

Two went for each of them, Wick dodging their punches before kicking one hard in the stomach, making him double over, winded. Wick received a punch in the collar for his trouble, the bone straining under the blow. The first one that went for Cass charged, not expecting much of the short woman, and was quickly flung back onto a packed table, a broken tooth flying into a barely touched pint of larger. The table joined the fight, a few going for the first group that came in while others slowly spread the wrath through the room. Wick punched them as they came at him, one getting him hard in the stomach, the skin on his knuckles splitting as he fought. The yells of fighting squalled through the room as people were thrown onto tables, had chairs and bottles smashed over their heads, kicked, bit, jabbed, prodded and tore at the other people in the bar. Slowly the fight condensed their targets down to the two foreign elements, swarming Cass and Wick, both bloodied and battered.

Cass punched a man hard, in the jaw, clocking him out in one hit as she span to fight the next one, then felt a heavy punch land in her back, winding her and near breaking her shoulder. She staggered from the pain, slumping over, then heard a yell from the one who did it. She glared over her shoulder, spotting a grey suited man, his hands raised in victory, clearly showing off a pair of brass knuckles. “Oh, so that’s how it is…” she muttered to herself, lurching around to face the man, who now wore a somewhat perplexed expression as she remained standing, and delivered a hard uppercut to his jaw. The sound of it suggested he wouldn’t be able to eat solid food for at least a year, scaring off those he rallied with his celebration. She glared at the ones around her with a look that could kill, or at least one that confirmed that she was entirely prepared to. They backed off and filtered out through the bar door, wisely deciding they had had enough. Cass huffed to herself as she wiped some blood from her likely broken nose and turned to see how Wick was doing with his own fight.

She turned around to see him curb stomp a near seven foot tall man, a solid crack sounding throughout the bar as he did, breaking through the sound of the radio on the bar top. She looked at him, bruised and bloody knuckled, surrounded by unconscious brawlers. “Catch!” Cass called, Wick glancing over to her with an unengaged look on his face and catching a bright red apple she had grabbed from a fruit bowl on the edge of the counter nearby the now mildly interested looking barman.

He looked at the apple warily then shrugged, taking a bite out of the ruby red apple the snake had gave him while he gripped it with bloody knuckles, standing in a room of bodies.      

@truegoist @httpghostface @guesst @muaviinu @sleepy-gry @simplelobster @xatsperesso @toomuchhobbies-toolittletime

[elvesandlanterns]

DC-Verse Theater part 3

“Alrighty next clip is a sibling universe of this universe so again most things are the same as yours with some slight differences.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed as he tried to spy on her phone with Jon in between them, “What kind of differences.”

“Well in this universe Jason and Bruce manage to talk some things out. A more glaring difference is that this Jason is a scientist.”

“Woah, really Jason?”

The man in question smacked the archers shoulder playfully, “Hey what that’s supposed to mean! I’m smart!”

“Yup Jason in this universe practically lives in space!”

The video started to play, “Oh also in this universe Konner doesn’t exist.”

“Wait what!” Tim was horrified, Konner nodded it made sense they couldn’t all exist every time… especially when they weren’t even born in the first place.

The scene opened on Jason and Tim in Jasons apartment kitchen. It was kinda creepy how the apartment looked exactly the same, until they kept walking. Leading them both into a room that looked like Roy’s workshop, me mechanical garbage thrown everywhere.

“I am wiped out guess I’ll turn in.”

Cass raised an eyebrow, usually they had to fight for Tim to sleep.

“Cool.”

Jason looked at the screen, huh looks like him and replacement had a good relationship here. He felt bitter about it, not that he deserved a good relationship with the replacement.

“Jay, I feel like I’ve spent my whole life pretending Bruce is a great guy and trying to be like him and the ugly truth has always been-“

Tim didn’t like were this was going, but at least him and Jason were close. Close enough for Tim to tell him things like this, real brothers.

“That he’s not that great a guy and you are exactly like him?”

“Am I evil?”

Bruce felt like his nerves were on fire, he knew he wasn’t a good man but Tim?

Damian scoffed, “As if you have the capacity to ever be Batman.”

“Actually Tim is the most like me.”

The room grew silent, as Tim hunched his shoulders. He never wanted to be Batman in the first place.

“Worse you’re smart. When you know nothing matters the universe is yours and I have never met a universe that was into it.

It was Hals turn to raise an eyebrow, “That kinda sounds like he drops into different dimensions a lot.”

Chimera smiled, “Oo! Got it in one! And people saw your the dumb one.”

The universe is basically an animal that grazes on the ordinary creates infinite idiots just to eat them not unlike your husband Brecard -“

“Bernard”

“Yeah hardly matters now sweetie.”

“I MARRIED Bernard !!!”

Konner could admit to being a little itty bit jealous.

“Jay I’m out of excuses to not be who I am … so who am I ? What do I do?”

“You’re asking Jason for advice?- ow”

“I’m asking Jason for advice? I guess we’re close …” it felt nice to know there was one world out there where his Robin liked him.

“My advice? Take off, leave Gotham before it eats you.”

“Jason!”

“What Dick! It’s not like any of you would even notice if he left and it’s obvious that this Tim isn’t happy to be there.”

“I can’t do that! The titans, Dick, my job and as much as I hate to admit it ABCs the Bachelor- “

Dick couldn’t help but feel vindicated, of course Tim wouldn’t leave. “I Knew it I knew you liked the Bachelor! We should have a movie night Tim-“

“Oh maybe Dick, I’m pretty busy.”

“Oh okay no worries Timmy.”

“I can make a clone of you.

Konner couldn’t breath.

A perfect instance of you with all of your memories an exact copy in every way. It will love and provide for the family, do your job and consume broadcast network reality tv on the same alleged ironic level you do. You could be gone a day, a week of the rest of your life with zero consequences. The moment you decide to come back I flip a switch and the clones job is done. It feels no pain, it regrets nothing, it has zero chance of going BladeRunner.”

“Konner-“

“I’m fine.” And he was he didn’t need Superman’s pity, he didn’t want it. He didn’t get to do that, he had made his choice.

“If nothing matters, why would you do that for me?”

Jason rede used to ever admit it but he actually did like replac- Tim. He liked Tim, but after everything Jason didn’t have any room left to stand on with the kid. And he had done it to himself.

“I dunno maybe you matter so little that I like you. Or maybe it makes you matter. Maybe I love you. Maybe something about the Pits. Don’t jump a gift shark in the mouth.”

Bruce took note of Pits being mentioned, at the very least maybe these videos could help him figure something’s out. They might even give him information on how to help Jason.

“I don’t know if I can do it.”

Divk smiled of course not, this was Tim. His little brother wouldn’t just leave. Not like that, he couldn’t lose a brother like that. Even if Tim was cloned he’d notice! He’s know Tim since he was eight!

“Then stay and luxuriate in a life that you can finally know you’ve chosen.

Damian scoffed, ‘chosen’ of course Drake was the only one to get a choice. Everyone else had been dragged into the Batfamily, but Drake? Drake just waltzed in like it was nothing.

My secret bonus is no matter what you choose you’re finally gonna chill the fuck out.”

Jason laughed, “Yeah Timborine fucking chill out with your identity crisis and pick a lane.”

“Okay I know what I wanna do.”

“Tim…?” Stephanie would like to believe that Tim wouldn’t but… after everything Tim had changed.

Tim folded into Konner.

Note: this is from Rick and Morty

[impeccablebackside]

what do you personally think are the (sexually speaking) favorite things the queens have about their toms?

Thanks for the ask anon. Some appreciation always goes a long way between two people, so it is a good question. I am going to try to limit them to biggest faves, but no guarantees on that.

For Vic, she loves how unwaveringly devoted her mans is to her beyond anything. I honestly do not know how to put it into words in a way that would properly qualify it. I so much want to know what that is like anon. To belong to someone and have every moment together give me happiness. To look at someone and know they are the light of my life. It is true love and dedication in a way that completely transcends everything. The passion and love they both share elevates anything sexual way beyond simple pleasure. Intimacy stemming from that basis is absolutely life affirming.

To actually answer your question in a more objective sense, Vic does love how big her man is, and that is in more than one way. He is more than strong enough to lift her up and treat her any way or to anything he wants, but the gentleness in his touches betrays how rough he could be. His size make her feel protected and loved. Otherwise, his size also electrifies her in a way nothing else can sexually. Plato has a long dick, and is very modest about it. Larger in length or at the further end of average, but with a normal girth. When flaccid, it honestly is still something to behold. He is a shower more than grower, and when erect it easily rivals any other tom in the junkyard.

He is smart enough that he knows how to use it, but is so gentle and caring for his partners Vic when fucking her that he never abuses it. He has restraint to only give as much as she can handle, especially when they start, easing into her and getting her comfortable (and wet) before diving deeper or increasing his pace. He does lose a bit of focus on being gentle from time to time, and loses himself in her pussy, sometimes fucking her with everything he has to give to try to make her feel like she is the most important queen around. Nothing feels as good to either of them as one another locked in like that, and Vic has never found an orgasm that hits harder than getting railed by her mans.

With Rumple, she is always happy to see just how excited Mungo is to be with her. He is literally at the call and command of whatever she would ask of him, and it is reasonably at no question. If she wants it from him, all she has to do is ask, and he will trip over himself to give it to her. That profound eagerness to please her is wrapped in both of their kinks / preferences to priase or worship someone and have that reciprocated. The need is certainly stronger for the tom, and he gives whatever energy and attention he can to ensure his little love feels it.

Mungo puts a bit more urgency (sometimes, he is hedonistic too and will get lost in slowly fucking her pussy because of how good it feels) with his efforts, especially when he is eating her out. Knowing that he is making her feel so good and further emboldened by the sounds she makes, it makes him even more enthusiastic. His mouth is not for all talk either, and skill with his adept tongue is probably Rumple’s fave thing from him. The tom knows what he is doing.

Tanto does not have a tom, but she quite enjoys when she is given praise and attention by any of her partners. Them realizing her beauty and then explicitly telling her about it makes her feel so good. After a point, the attention and praise gets her horny, and she surprisingly makes the first move.

Cass likes Alonzo's more overt dominant bravado coupled with his hidden (to the rest of the junkyard) submissive side. He is a switch, so she gets the best of both worlds from her strong tom. Not differing much herself in a way, she likes that he can match her energies when the time is appropriate. Though, her submissive side is not actually submissive so much as it is passive to someone taking more control.

When he wants, Alonzo will flex his muscles and show her a good time. Specifically, he is not afraid to degrade the brown queen when fucking her. It is fully from a position where he remarks how a figurative goddess gets to be sullied by a mere street cat. She is into it. On the flip side of that, she loves for him to bow before her in reverence, kneeling at the feet of a queen that is more royal diety than cat. Tying in to the switch preference for both of them, he can either sub for her in that situation and let her direct everything or he can essentially worship her body and do all the work while she lays back. The power balance between them is something that is fluid, but Cass always has the upper paw.

Deme simply loves her man deeply to begin with, and the love and care he reciprocates literally gives her a reason to live some days. Even during sex, his care for her and importance he places on ensuring she is comfortable with everything makes her feel very special. Not only that, it also lets her open up and be more receptive to the love, lust, and pleasure that she gets from Munk. Being taken care of fulfills her in a way that nothing else can, and when she feels that love during sex, it amplifies the enjoyment. It certainly helps that her man knows what he is doing, and when he gets a bit carried away with his lust, the stimulation she get from his fucking is almost unlike any feeling she has felt before. Munk made her squirt for the first time, and that deserves a round of applause.

Bomba likes a mix of Tugger's prowess in general, and his showy self turns her on to some extent. He is skilled and open about his sexual side, and she appreciates that in several ways. Bomba loves his mane, and gripping it during sex when she needs to anchor herself to something. Otherwise, his attitude and behavior is much of her favourite things about him. When he gets feral and is a bit more aggressive with his moves, she loses it. Him having his way with her goes a long way, and it always gets her going. When he fully commits to it, fucking her hard and good before burying himself into her pussy and filling her up with his cum. She loves that shit.

Jenny likes some of that good good unmistakably round, remarkably fat, impeccable backside that Busto is. She has eyes for his body, and she cannot help but thirst over his dignified character and the proud way her carries himself as well. His celebrity-like status in her eyes turns her on quite a bit. He has fine taste as well, and has equal eyes for her gumbie shape. Plus, when they fuck, she does love him giving her some good ass slaps with his paws and ass-whooping spoon.

Jelly likes that AGus matches her wavelength with her kinks. They both can dabble pretty freely in whatever they want, and there is never resistance between them. If Jelly wants something, she can get it and vice versa. Her enjoyment of nippleplay, degradation, fisiting, and anal fingering are all well received by both parties. Plus, she knows that if her partner wants something, he is not timid to ask.