#If I see another fic where Jason suddenly gets mad at everyone

[rubydubydoo122]

Something I was Batman fans to Understand is that Jason ACTS Angry when he's Scared. It's a trauma response from the streets. If he showed he was scared he would've been dead.

When Jason is Angry though. If he's truly angry, and we see this throughout UTRH and Lost Days, If he's angry, he steeps in it.

Come closer.

He's not a Bull when he's angry, he's calculated when he's angry. He's a Bull when he's scared. He's Angry when he's Scared.

Obviously some comics aren't going to show that, because of how many writers there've been and favorite characters and such, but 'Death in the Family' and the last pannel of 'The Diplomat's son' is a good representation of Angry when Scared. 'Lost Days' is AMAZING with the angry when scared because when Talia shows him that he's been replaced, he's apathetic, and then goes to another room and starts crying. When he learns the Joker's still alive he starts trashing the room

Under the Red Hood is Jason's prime example of calculating while Angry, BECAUSE THAT ENTIRE PLAN!!! It was very well thought out and very well executed up until the final confrontation.

Robin!Jason not letting Alfred or Bruce see how upset he was that His father died is a perfect mix of both, because grief is a fickle thing.

ALSO! LETS SAY THIS TOGETHER PIT MADNESS IS NOT REAL

there are a lot of comics tho where I think the writers either hated Jason or didn't know what to do with him, so don't bring those up.

[squiddybeifong]

Can I ask for the batsiblings reaction to Damian pacing so much he wore a hole in the floor? Doesn't have to be a fics, maybe headcanons?

Sorry for the rather long wait. Kinda wanted to make this a fic

Here's the floor pacing fic

On Ao3 here

--

Alfred hadn’t outwardly reacted to Damian’s obvious lie as to why he had paced the floorboards uneven, but the butler absolutely took action for amending the tripping hazard in the boy’s room. With the floor repairman on the line and a measuring tape in hand nothing was amiss, of course.

Dick had already kept him up-to-date with the gossip about the two Titan birds, so Alfred hadn’t been surprised whatsoever. His position in the family meant that he’d watched the awkward budding romances of most everyone who’d called the Manor home. Damian being frustrated at his feelings for a teammate was nothing compared to a (very grown) Bruce being moody after Selina rebuffed his kiss while ‘on the clock’ or Dick’s increasingly creative attempts at sneaking around with Kori before the ‘no dating metahumans or aliens’ rule had been lifted. Honestly, watching the pun-laden flirting that Steph ladled out to both Tim and Cass on a near daily basis was more awkward than his youngest ward taking his repressed emotions out on the floors.

Unfortunately for Damian, the butler arranged for the floor repairman to show up during the day. Most notably, the repairman arrived at exactly the specified 1:35 p.m., not wanting to be late when called upon to fix anything belonging to Bruce Wayne.

Why Robin had believed that (like everyone else in Gotham) this worker would be fashionably late, he didn’t know. What Damian did know was that he hadn’t heard Grayson open the door. Nor had he heard his brother head up with Alfred and the repairman into his room. And he especially didn’t hear as Alfred slyly mentioned that he believed Dick’s gossip was coming to a head, if the worn path in the floor meant anything.

No, Damian heard none of it. Not when he was busy brushing BatCow and making sure that every square inch of the barn was properly ventilated so she couldn’t possibly overheat in the approaching summer weather. So when the youngest Bat stalked into the Manor, he’d been all but ambushed.

It didn’t take a detective to realize why he’d been pacing so much. Even without Alfred’s confirmation, it was unlike Damian to avoid going back to the Titans early if he could help it. Batman hadn’t looked up when Robin had elected to stay another week when they were in the BatCave, but his siblings sure had. And while Bruce didn’t outwardly ponder about how intense things had to be for Damian to go out of his way to avoid a certain someone, this new information had Dick positively enchanted at the prospect of his baby brother being in love.

“I’m not in love with Raven,” Damian hissed out.

Jason snickered as he reclined in his seat, his face full of mirth at the flustered crack in Damian’s voice. Cass was sitting upside down with her legs resting on the couch’s back, her smile wide as she took in her youngest brother’s irritated, embarrassed body language (nevermind the barest hint of an actual blush on his face when vehemently denying any feelings he had towards his fellow Titan).

Babs’ smile was wide and cheerful as she pointed out, “Who said anything about Raven?” Duke perked up from his spot next to Cass, immediately adding on, “Yeah, Dami. We thought you were just falling for her?”

Steph snorted, “Falling over those footprints in the floor, more like it.”

Tim laughed behind his gulp of his coffee, sleepily (and loudly) drawling out to the blonde, “A Robin and his Raven. Guess you can say they’re a real pair of lovebirds, huh?”

Damian glared at them all, fighting the urge to pinch between his eyes. Why were all the Bats at the Manor? Shouldn’t they be on patrol instead of bothering him?

Jason clicked his tongue and rested his arms on the table. He met Dick’s gaze, saw the way his older brother’s eyes brightened up with mischief and scratched at the streak of white in his hair. Deciding that messing with Damian was by far the most fun he’d have in the Manor that morning, Jason asked, “So, Lil’ D… What’re you gonna get your girlfriend? Can’t come back empty handed.”

“She’s not my--”

Babs interrupted him, nudging Tim with her elbow, “Do not tell me he wasn’t planning on getting her anything.”

Steph lazily rested on the chair’s edge. The blonde leaned over to rest against Jason’s shoulder, her fist pressed to her face. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek; it wasn’t likely she’d be much use for knowing how Raven would want to be wooed. She had heard of her but she had yet to actually meet Damian’s mystery crush, after all. She let out a hum, “What does Raven like? It’s gotta be something personal!”

Damian clicked his tongue as his siblings were suddenly oh so chatty at Spoiler’s suggestion, their unwanted ideas filling the room.

“What if he paints her something?”

“Doesn’t she like old books? Maybe one of those first editions that Alfred was thinking about donating last year?”

“Wait a sec-- Dick, isn’t she goth? B did get that set of obsidian jewelry at the last gala.”

“Hell, if we’re going that route I’m sure Selina has some nice rings somewhere--”

“Maybe something that isn’t stolen, Tim.”

“Just be honest with her.”

The room went quiet at Cass’ simple instruction. Still in her Orphan suit from her early morning patrols and reclining in her inverted spot on the couch, the brunette somehow kept a serious face as she stared at Damian upside down.

Seeing that no one was going to add-on to her suggestion, Cass blew some of her bangs out of her face and shrugged, “You like her for a reason.”

Brown eyes slyly glanced around the room, gratefully falling on Babs as she piped up, “Cass is right. I really don’t think Damian of all people would fall for someone who’s all about dating mind-games.”

Ignoring Damian’s exasperated lie of “I haven’t fallen for her!” in the background, Steph slumped down on the couch next to Duke. Her face was contemplative, “Then maybe we should invite her here?”

Dick let out an excited laugh the same time Tim clapped his hands and grinned at their resident computer whiz, “Babs could absolutely get her up to speed on patrolling Gotham for a bit, right?”

The redhead looked excited at the idea. Pushing her glasses further up her nose before they fell, Babs teasingly asked, “What is it about Gotham and bird-based superheroes?”

Duke shrugged, a hand cradling his chin in thought. “Not sure, but Dami obviously won’t confess if we’re not around to kick him into doing it.”

Jason clicked his tongue at the possibility of the youngest Bat listening to them and raised a brow Dick’s way, “Any chance at all that she’ll make the first move?”

Irritated at the topic, Damian turned on his heel and retreated to the kitchen. Ignoring the chorus of “C’mon, Dami” behind him (and planning on fighting Todd later for the childish boos that the antihero was aiming at his back), Robin set about grabbing some snacks for his pets when he heard two sets of footsteps approach.

He bit back a groan as Dick practically skipped into the room, Cass on his heels. “What now?”

Nightwing let out a laugh at his brother’s sneer, “You do know that we’re only trying to help, right?” He took a few pears from the fridge and handed them to Damian, knowing that they were BatCow’s favorite. Hearing as Cass opened the cabinet doors to find where the rawhide bones and cat treats were stored, Dick pressed on, “I know she already knows me but it might be easier introducing everyone as a segue into talking to her about other things…”

Cass let out a quiet snort at his suggestion. She shook her head and offered a better idea, “Alfred first.”

Dick tilted his head, nodding in agreement a moment later. He ignored the violent way Damian was cutting up the pears and said, “That’ll probably be for the best. Living with the Titans is one thing; we gotta ease her into our particular brand of madness.”

Tossing aside the stems and peeled off stickers, Damian sulked, “None of this is necessary.”

Cass hid her smile with her hand. Dick hummed out, “You don’t want your girlfriend to meet your family?”

“She won’t be my--” Damian couldn’t say the potential title just yet. He clicked his tongue, “Just because you all think I have feelings for her doesn’t mean she’ll reciprocate.”

The older two visibly paused at his words.

Her head tilting in concern, brown eyes studied Robin for a moment. Damian glared at Cass but she ignored him. Dick leaned against the wall, the worried furrow in his brow betraying his nonchalant stance. He spoke out the obvious, “Do you really think she’s not interested?”

“She thinks I’ve been avoiding her--”

Cass shrugged, “You have.”

Damian continued as if he hadn’t heard her, “--so I doubt any feelings she may have towards me are positive right now.”

Dick let out a hum, “You didn’t answer the question.”

Ophan’s suit somehow didn’t shine in the kitchen’s fluorescent light as she crossed her arms, “Yes or no?”

Damian bit the inside of his cheek. It was quiet in the kitchen for a moment as he thought over all the moments he and Raven had shared, the comfortable quiet pauses between crimefighting, training, and avoiding their teammates’ noise. She never seemed to dislike his company, but she was stoic enough that he could never tell if her heart leaped into her throat whenever she noticed that they were alone.

He suppressed a jump as Cass entered his personal space.

Olive eyes were reluctant as she poked his cheek. “You’re not stupid,” She figured it was progress when he didn’t try to swat her hand away, but she couldn’t keep the beam off her face at the boy’s blush. A hint of smugness crept into her voice, “So she is?”

“I don’t know.”

Cass looked to the Manor’s main entrance, knowing that in half a week’s time the entire structure would be full of lights, flowers and who knew what else B’s planners would bring. A spring gala with flowers and enough hidden corners for a pair to get lost in the crowd.

In other terms: the perfect setting for a first date.

She met Dick’s gaze and grinned at the knowing look on his face. His hair nearly fell out of its bun as he let out a whoop, wrapping an arm around Damian. Thoughts of finding Raven a gala-ready dress (and maybe a matching suit) in mind, Dick couldn’t keep the excitement out of his movements.

Ignoring the aggravated yet cautiously hopeful way Damian shrugged off his brother’s arm, Cass clasped her hands in front of her chest. “Only one way to find out.”

[oh-crap-im-attatched]

Ok, so I’ve been really into batfamily reverse age au’s lately, but a lot of the fics I’ve read just insert Tim Drake into Jason’s story with minor changes. That’s fine, but it got me thinking about what would’ve happened if Tim was the second Robin.

And I may or may not have gotten a little out of control.

Anyways, enjoy.

So Talia would drop Damian off on Bruce first. Which, I mean imagine Bruce having to learn how to parent with Damian. Anyway, Damian becomes Bruce’s first sidekick, not Robin because Dick came up with the name Robin, so for the sake of this rant I’m going to call him Blackbird. I think that would go pretty similarly to canon, with Damian eventually wanting to go off by himself, having a falling out with Bruce, etc. I imagine reverse Damian as less bratty than regular Damian, because he doesn’t have a Robin legacy to live up to or a mantle to earn. He was the first. I mean he’s still Damian, and still has to learn how to go from assassin to vigilante, but he is definitely more confident with his place. I think he’d be a lot like Bruce because 1. Regular Damian is already similar to Bruce and 2. He didn’t have any other role models, so there was no Dick Grayson to admire instead. So, eventually, Damian goes off by himself as a new vigilante (that isn’t Nightwing.)

Then Tim shows up. Bruce is upset that his son left and is trying to learn how to deal with the fact that Damian grew up, no longer needs him, etc. Bruce probably blames himself partly, thinking that he was a bad parent to Damian, and starts getting more violent with criminals. Taking his own guilt out on them, when a boy shows up at his door talking about how he knows that Bruce Wayne is Batman. Now there was no Dick Grayson doing a quadruple flip for Tim to figure it out, so he had to figure out a different way. Maybe he met Damian at a gala and was able to connect his formal speech patterns with Blackbird’s, and then everything else clicked into place. Anyway, Tim saw that there wasn’t a Blackbird anymore and saw that Batman started getting more violent with criminals and needed a sidekick, so he volunteered. It would take way less convincing from Tim in this au, because Damian didn’t die, especially when Bruce finds out about the neglectful parents. Tim would be closer with Bruce right off the bat too. So Tim becomes Blackbird. Everything’s great for a while, and when Tim’s parents die, Bruce adopts him. I think that Tim would always help the street kids, because he started becoming friends with some of them while following Batman and Blackbird.

Now, I’m thinking that Tim encountered the Joker in a very different way than Jason. Tim is smart enough that he can’t be easily tricked into a trap like Jason did, and he’s less impulsive. I think the same thing that happens to Jason would happen to Tim though, because the timing wouldn’t change. The Joker would want to traumatize Batman by killing his sidekick at the same time as canon. Who that sidekick is doesn’t really matter. It probably would’ve happened similarly to in Batman Beyond, where Tim was chasing a criminal or Harely and ended up getting knocked out. After that, the same thing in canon would happen, beaten, blown up, dead.

Bruce would be devestated. He’d probably be even more guilty than in canon because he let Tim convince him to be Blackbird in the first place, when Tim wasn’t even part of the family yet. He’d get even more violent than before, probably suicidal, starting to lose it. Damian would come back to Gotham to try to help his father, and mourn Tim himself. Damian and Tim didn’t have a strong relationship, but Damian respected his intelligence and the boy started to grow in him. Damian would feel that he should’ve gotten to know Tim better.

Then Jason would come flying into everyone’s lives. Bruce is worse than ever, when he comes across a boy stealing his tires. He’s surprised and a little shocked at the absolute balls this kid has, stealing from the batmobile, and dazedly asks if Jason was hungry. Jason would remind Bruce of Tim, and how Tim was always so good with the younger street kids and how he would want to help Jason. Long story short, Jason gets adopted. Jason in this au wouldn’t become Blackbird for a decent amount of time, even when he discovers Bruce is Batman, because Bruce is so scared at the thought of losing another son, but he eventually relents. Jason wouldn’t be able to get away with as many impulsive moves as in canon, because Bruce is way more cautious now. Anyway, Batman calms down, and everything’s normal for a while.

Then Tim comes back.

The same thing would happen as in canon. Ra’s Al Ghul heard that the smart Blackbird died, and starts plotting. Cut to grace robbing and Lazarus pit ex machina. Now, Tim wouldn’t respond to the same manipulation that Jason did. He doesn’t want people to die, he wouldn’t be that mad at Bruce for not killing the Joker, because he understands Batman, he followed him, studied him, flew with him. He knows why Bruce didn’t kill the Joker. No, Ra’s would have to resort to different tactics. Jason. Ra’s would play it that Bruce immediately took a new son off of the streets, a new Blackbird. That would get to Tim. If Tim thought that Bruce immediately got a new sidekick to put in harm’s way, didn’t even pause, and a street kid at that, who wouldn’t have a better alternative. That would get Tim mad. Tim wouldn’t be mad at being replaced, but that he got replaced with a kid who didn’t know better, immediately, and that Damian didn’t stop it. That would break through Tim’s walls enough for Ra’s to get to him. And given a year, Ra’s could manipulate him into wanted to kill Bruce. “For everyone’s sake,” Ra’s would say. “How many kids will he get killed.” Damian would be used as fuel too. Ra’s would say that he knows Damian. That Damian would stand by and let it happen if it meant he got to stay as a solo vigilante. That Damian doesn’t care about anyone else. Tim’s smart enough to logic his way through most of these lies, and he knows full well how much trouble Ra’s is, given that Damian was his predecessor, But, it wouldn’t matter how smart Tim was, given enough time and sole exposure to the league. Ra’s would shape Tim into his heir. Damian was a failure in that regard, and Tim is smarter anyway.

Eventually, Ra’s would be confident enough in Tim’s brainwashing that he would bring Tim back to Gotham. Not as the Red Hood, but as an assassin. A very well-trained assassin. Tim wouldn’t just kill people like Jason did, he’d probably have killed people with the league but not a lot. Forcing Tim to kill a lot would shake him out of the brainwashing more, because of his morals. No, Ra’s would be the one to get Batman’s attention. When Bruce eventually figured out Ra’s was in town, he’d go find him, and find Tim instead. Tim would have swords on him, and be in league of assassins uniform, but would probably be holding a gun at Bruce, because he could still beat Tim in a one on one fight. Damian would be there too, because he can handle his grandfather, but when he sees Tim, he’d blanch. Because, despite not being incredibly close to Tim, that was still his little brother, his dead little brother with his grandfather behind him. Oh, Damian would know exactly what happened.

Bruce would try to talk Tim down, and so would Damian, but with Ra’s right there as well, Tim wouldn’t shake enough to back down. Then, Jason shows up. I think that’s what gets through to Tim. Jason would’ve heard about Tim, and wanted to be just like him. He’d say as much to him. That is what would make a Tim pause, because according to Ra’s, Bruce made Jason Blackbird, Tim didn’t even think about if Jason had to convince Bruce to become Blackbird. He wasn’t able to with being around Ra’s constantly for a year. But with Jason standing right in front of him, completely unharmed, saying he wanted to be like Tim. That would shock Tim’s brain enough to actually think about what Damian and Bruce were saying. It would be like his entire word view suddenly tilted. His hand would start shaking. Damian would try to get him to see reason again, to reach out to Tim for what is pretty much the first time, and Ra’s gets cocky. He forgets that Tim’s intelligence doesn’t belong to him or Bruce. Tim would be reevaluating everything and start seeing more and more holes with Ra’s arguments. Tim’s more rational that regularJason, he’d be able to see that reverse Jason seems to want to be Blackbird, just like Tim wanted to be. I think that untimately it would take Bruce reaching out to him, calling him son, calking him back to truly break him. I think that Tim would go after Ra’s, pit madness still being a thing. Tim would probably almost kill him because a Ra’s would be caught off guard. Damian would be the one to stop him, to pull him back.

Afterwards, Tim would have a lot to sort through, and still wouldn’t exactly trust Bruce. He’d talk to Jason though. He and Jason would be very close, with Jason helping with a lot of his recovery. Giving constant assurance that he’s ok and that he loves being Blackbird. Tim would be very protective over him. Damian and Tim would get a lot closer too. Damian helping to undo all the conditioning and lies that Tim endured while with the league. Damian understands, and Tim would see that. Given enough time Tim would eventually go back home for good, go back to Bruce. When he finally rejoins the family he’d become a solo vigilante. His name would be Cardinal. A bird representing dead loved ones watching over you.

Bruce “dying” would still happen and I think that Tim would still be the one to figure it out, Damian might be a little skeptical because of Tim’s admittedly less than amazing mental state, but would offer assistance. He’d seen enough people coming back to life to be to sure that it’s impossible, and Jason really likes Tim at this point and wants Bruce back, so he’d be all for it. They’d bring Bruce back together, without the league of assassins, although Tim still finds a way to blow up half of Ra’s bases.

Dick would be like a breath of fresh air after the chaos of the first three. Bruce and the family would go to the circus for bonding. Maybe Tim mentioned seeing a circus performance when he was little, a Bruce wanted something to help Tim get even more comfortable being around him and the family again. They’d see the Flying Graysons fall, and see poor little Dick Grayson crying over the dead bodies of his family and immediately come to a consensus. Dick would get adopted soon after. He wouldn’t become Blackbird very quickly, as Jason still held the mantle, and maybe he wouldn’t at all. Maybe when the family finally deemed him ready to join them as a vigilante, he’d take the name Robin. The older siblings would love Dick and want to protect this boy with endless energy and a wide smile no matter what. Tim now having a strong urge when it comes to protecting his younger brothers because of Ra’s, Damian finally knowing how to big brother (in a very Damian way) at this point, and Jason getting to take care of someone younger than him. All of them would be a strong family unit at this point. And no one could tear them apart again.

[bigskydreaming]

I honestly can’t tell if this is a purely petty want or its a rare non-petty want and I’ve simply lost the ability to distinguish between the two.....

But man would I kill for some fics from Jason or Tim’s POV post Forever Evil, while still believing Dick’s dead, where they like, think about all the things they’d held against Dick in the years before that while he’d kept trying to reach out to them, and just....regret all the time wasted, y’know? Like....there are SO MANY stories that spare no detail in showcasing how guilty Dick felt for Jason’s death and wishing he’d been around more often in hindsight......but what, Tim never thought about how often Dick tried to apologize or explain his reasoning with the Robin mantle or get him to keep in touch during the early Red Robin era and thinks....was it worth it? Keeping him at a distance as long as he had? Etc, etc.

I mean, if we can have decades worth of fic burdening Dick with more of a guilt complex about Jason’s death than we even typically see from Bruce, like, feeling guilty about how he handled the Garzonas case and giving Jason reason to doubt his place in the manor and as Robin and go seeking more family elsewhere......then surely brothers regretting the time they wasted fighting with a now deceased sibling is a pretty reasonable area of exploration, y’know?

And honestly, that’s a huge part of what made Jason and Tim’s reactions so hard to stomach when Dick came back. There was so much focus and emphasis given to their feelings of betrayal BECAUSE of how much time and emotion was spent grieving for him, now seemingly for nothing.....

But problem was....

WE NEVER REALLY SAW ANY OF THAT!

Like where was it? It was very much a case of tell and not show. We barely ever got any MENTION of Dick’s death from the others during that in between time, it was more just awkward references and pained silences, but that’s not.....the same thing, y’know? We never really got any actual EXPLORATION of how they actually FELT about Dick being gone, other than a vague ‘oh we’re sad now’.....like I mean....when Bruce was lost in time, we actually SAW the grief play out in different ways amongst the different characters. With Dick’s though, we basically were just TOLD upon his return that they’d been SO heartbroken that now all they could feel was betrayed and angry when they looked at him, but where was all that heartbreak? Shouldn’t there have been some actual....displays of it then, if its gonna be strong enough to justify punching your returned from the dead brother and then pretty much declaring him persona non grata for the next year?

Course, as an extension of all that, I also can’t help but feel that if there HAD been more of an examination on the impact Dick’s loss had on the others, what it brought up for them, what it made them think about and reprioritize and regret or wish they could have done differently or had another chance to do differently....whether in canon or just in terms of fic trends.....

Then I do honestly think that actual FOCUS there on those kinds of things would have paved the way for the others still to have been more....gracious about Dick’s return, or like....made it easier for them to have more nuanced perspectives there. Because if you’ve ACTUALLY just spent the past year or so regretting having wasted so much time being angry at the brother you now miss so much, with this actually being reflected in various narratives.....then suddenly it becomes a lot easier and more obvious upon discovering he’s alive, to like....not literally repeat the same thing all over again and just go back to being mad at him rather than taking advantage of this second chance at having him back in your lives.

And I mean, if the problem all along was people not wanting to acknowledge Bruce’s specific role and actions in getting Dick to go undercover at Spyral, which I mean, I actually do get......there’s still no real need to throw Dick under the bus to give the others someone to blame there, if like.....you just make their priority not needing to BLAME someone at all, but just being fucking GLAD to have him back, the very thing most of them probably wished for multiple times over the prior year.

But that particular prioritization - joy that he’s alive, period, versus resentment for time ‘wasted’ grieving - basically first requires a reversal in what focus is given most priority. To get THAT outcome, you basically need Dick’s ABSENCE and his loss from their lives over the past year, how this affects them, how they feel about THAT, to be given the actual focus....rather than what we actually got, which was the focus just on their feelings of hurt and betrayal UPON Dick’s return.

(With this of course also stemming from and playing into my biggest issues with Forever Evil and Grayson, which is that everyone else was cast as being more victimized by the storylines that Dick was literally the ACTUAL victim of, buuuuuuut I’ve ranted on that many a time before so I mean. Whatever).

But yeah, just.....there’s a real dearth of actual REACTIONS to Dick’s death and reflections on his LOSS and what that means to the others, during that year he’s gone (with honestly the same being true of the entire year he spent as Ric Grayson, like I mean it was literally just the same thing, redux.....everyone was so busy resenting Ric for not being Dick, there was barely ever any focus actually given to the fact that this was because they MISSED Dick.....and since Ric still was Dick, after all, this basically just meant that for all that time, the focus was just on everyone being mad at him....for them....missing him. I just. Ugh. DC. Why are you such a fucking mess on repeat with Dick’s storylines I mean no but seriously WHY. GET SOME NEW MATERIAL).

Anyway. So that’s what I was thinking about while reading the umpteenth million fic where Dick waxes on, all penitent like, for not being around more before Jason died......umm okay then, so what if fic where Jason and Tim spend a paragraph or two thinking ‘oh man, wish I wasn’t always just such an asshole to my now dead brother every time he wanted to just hang out for literally no other reason than because he was my brother and he loved me’ hmmmm?

[wearenotasfarwest]

Maybe What You Think Of Me Won’t Change

Did you guys know that in addition to being a gifmaker and a dollmaker, I’m also a writer? I know! I am a woman of many talents most mediocre and useless. Anyway, I wrote this little fic about Clark and Farrah from We Are The Tigers, so if you’re into that kind of thing, give it a read under the cut!

It wasn’t super uncommon for Farrah to suddenly come to and not know where she was or how she got there. So when, in her drunken haze, she had a sudden moment of clarity and found herself outside by a dumpster, she groaned. In the dim light from a streetlight, she took stock as she pushed one of her braids over her shoulder. Clothes? Still on. Phone? Not dead. Purse? There. There wasn’t any vomit or blood or anything. All in all, not the worst night she had ever had.

As she got on shaky feet, she tried to remember what had happened. Marissa had picked her up, and they went to a house party at Rich’s. She had a few flashes of the party, a red solo cup in her hand, Liz doing a keg stand, Kayla and Jason trying to subtly sneak upstairs- but then nothing. Fuck. There was no one around, so how was she supposed to get home? She pulled out her phone again and clicked the home button, being greeted by a picture of Tom Holland as Spiderman- her favorite celebrity crush- and the time 3:42. It was a Thursday, but still summer, so thank God she didn’t have to worry about being up for school. 

She pushed that thought to the back of her mind. First she needed to get home. She unlocked her phone- her home screen was a picture of her and her mom when she was born, which caused her to squint, both because of the lighter color scheme being brighter and the memory of her mom- and clicked to her contacts. Family was strictly out of the question, Annleigh would kill her for waking her up, her stepmom hated her, and her dad wouldn’t be mad but he’d be so disappointed he would probably cry the entire way and making your dad cry is a soul crushing experience.

She sat back down as she scrolled through her contacts. Party friends. A guy who was her partner for a chem project last year. Former Captain Kimberly, future Captain Riley. A guy who was rumored to be a drug dealer, but was only her contact for buying alcohol. Her first try was Marissa- she got her into this, it seemed only natural she’d get her out, but it went straight to voice mail. She kept looking, her drunk mind trying to think. Her finger tapped on Bridget, a girl who had been a cheerleader at Giles Corey but transferred back to public school after her dad had been laid off. They weren’t close, but Bridget had shown her the ropes when she joined the team, and she was a night owl so she should still be awake.

Before the first ring even finished, her usual deadpan voice answered. 

“What.” She said, and Farrah struggled to not sound as drunk as she was as she responded.

“Bridged?” Despite her best efforts, her speech was a little slurred. “Canyou comeaaand git mee?”

“Farrah, it’s almost four AM.” Her voice still had no inflection. Even when sober, it was very difficult to discern where Bridget was standing, and if you were getting anywhere with her. Drunk? It was pretty much impossible.

“Yeeeeaaaaaaah… but Imm stuuuuuuck.” 

“No.” Was the response, unusually harsh for Bridget. 

“Whaa…?” She asked, though she was pretty sure she heard her correctly. It just didn’t seem right. Bridget wouldn’t just abandon her like this, right? As she had so astutely noted it was almost 4 AM- she was the only person who would be awake.

“No. I’m not your babysitter, Farrah. You got yourself into this mess, take some goddamn responsibility for your actions.”

“Buuu… butMarissa took meee dribking-“

“Did Marissa force the alcohol down your throat?” Bridget asked, a little too abruptly and Farrah didn’t respond. She knew she was right, and Bridget knew from her silence she had hit the nail on her head. “You made a choice. You deal with the consequences.”

The line went dead. Bridget’s words were true, but how the hell was Farrah supposed to get out of this? Buses weren’t running this time of night, she didn’t even know where she was, let alone how to get home- she needed help.

As she resumed scrolling through her contacts, a very depressing thought hit her. She didn’t have anyone to call. She was the girl you call for a party, not the girl you depend on when you need help. She didn’t have a single true friend she could depend on right now. There were no clutch friends. To put it quite frankly, she was completely fucked.

As she settled in against the dumpster to wait for daybreak, hoping the sun would bring with it some ideas, a memory she didn’t know she had came to the forefront of her mind. 

“I think she’s asleep.” A voice that must have been Annleigh’s said in her memory. 

She was lying down, but her eyes were closed. From the lights that occasionally shone through her eyelids, the soft rumbling, and the feeling of movement, she must have been in the backseat of the car.

“Okay.” Came another voice, male- Clark. “I’ll carry her in when we get there.”

“You don’t have to do that!” Annleigh immediately replied, and Farrah could picture the heart eyes she was almost undoubtedly making. “You’ve already done so much, helping me come get her.”

“Don’t mention it.” He replied. “I’m happy to help.”

“You must get tired of it.” Annleigh replied with a sigh. “I mean, she’s not even your family.”

“Well, first off, we are all sisters and brothers in the eyes of our Heavenly Father,” She could hear the smile in his voice, and a gentle sound of contact as if Annleigh had playfully hit his arm. When he spoke again, though, the smile was gone. “In all seriousness, though, your family is my family. I will always be there for Farrah, because I love her like a sister.”

The conversation turned to some boring bullshit about theology, so she had tuned it out. But her mind kept coming back to that promise. Did he mean it? Did he say it just because he thought it would win him brownie points? Either way, it was her last possible option, so she navigated to his contact and hit call.

After a few rings, his groggy voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Clark?” She asked, and she could almost feel him snap awake.

“Farrah? What’s happening? Is Annleigh okay? Are you okay?”

“Iiii’m fiiiiine. I need a riiide.”

Clark exhaled, and she felt a little bad for waking him up. He was probably going to do thing Bridget had. This was a speculator waste of time for everyone.

“I’m…. I don’t knoooow…”

“Do you see any landmarks?” He asked, his voice patient even though she could hear him moving about, probably grabbing his keys and heading out.

“Let me… check…” She stumbled a little bit, struggling to hold the phone and climb to her feet. “Oof, okay…”

“Farrah, what’s going on?” He asked, and she waved it off before realizing he couldn’t see her as she meandered out of the alley to the street.

“Iiiit’s fiiine. You worry too much!” 

She put a hand on the wall to steady her as she took stock of her surroundings. Sure enough, she was at a bar, but she didn’t recognize the name and found it highly unlikely Clark would either. Most of the storefronts were dark, and even the ones that weren’t, she felt like the words were spinning in front of her. 

“What do you see?” He asked, and she scrunched up her face.

“Uhhh…” She stalled but then she saw it. She thought it was maybe the most beautiful building she had ever seen in her life, down at the end of the street. “There’s a castle…”

“A… castle?” He asked, confused.

“It’s all white. It’s so pretty. It has flowers.”

“An all white building?” He tried to clarify. “The hospital?”

“No… there’s a man on the building…” She had to squint, but sure enough.

“A man on a castle that’s white with flowers?” The skepticism in his voice was so evident that even in her state she could pick up on it and it annoyed her.

“He’s golden!” She insisted, just wanting him to believe her, that she wasn’t hallucinating.

“A golden man on- the Mormon temple?” He asked, which Farrah couldn’t say for sure, but it seemed like the best bet. “Farrah, are you at the Mormon temple?”

“Nooo… I’m in front of a bar down the street…”

“Okay. Okay. Hold on.” Clark said as Farrah leaned against the wall, already feeling a hangover starting to set in. “I’ll be there in five minutes. Can you hang on for five minutes?”

“Yeah…” She replied, closing her eyes against the light filtering through the bar’s windows.

“Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

Once he hung up, she pocketed her phone after making sure it was on vibration in case something happened. She had considered doing something on her phone while she waited, but even on the lowest setting, it seemed so bright it might burn her. Out of sheer boredom, she started to undo her braids. After all, even if she slept in them, she’d have to redo them tomorrow, because they’d be messy. 

Just as she was relocating her second hair tie to her wrist, and shaking out the braid, the door to the bar opened, and a man walked out. Farrah didn’t notice him at first, busy combing her hair out, but he sure noticed her.

“Oh, hey, pretty girl.” He said and she looked up into eyes that looked at her like she was less of a person and more of a meal. Ugh. She had met so many predatory men like this, and she really wasn’t up to it right now. “What are you doing out here all alone?”

“My ride is coming.” She said, both as an answer to the question and a way of informing him that there was someone who knew where she was supposed to be, so he better not try anything.

“I can take you wherever you need to go, baby.” He was almost purring, which was about as unsettling as being called baby by a stranger twice her age. “Especially if where you need to go is back to my place.”

That statement was punctuated with a wink, and she felt like she needed a shower.

“No, thank you.” She replied, trying to walk the line between being polite enough that he didn’t think she was a cunt and murdered her, but not so polite that he thought she was into him and when she rejected him, didn’t think she was a cunt and murdered her. 

“Aw, come on, I can make you feel reeeeal good.”

He started to advance towards her and Farrah took a step back before she realized that would just back her into an alleyway, which was a dead end. She had no option but to stand her ground.

“I said no!” She almost yelled, and he grabbed her arm.

“Come on, baby, don’t be like that.” She tried to struggle against his grip, but he tightened his grip, which only scared her more. He was so much more powerful than she was.

“Get off of me!” Now she was yelling, a hint of desperation in her voice and he grabbed her other arm as well, which she continued to try to resist, but he was too strong.

“I said don’t be-“

“Get away from her!” She heard a car door slamming and while she couldn’t see who it was, she recognized his voice. The dude’s attention was fractured by the interruption, and his grip loosened as he looked over his shoulder. Farrah took advantage of that to pry herself from his grasp, running straight at Clark, throwing her arms around him and clutching the back of his shirt as tightly as she could, squeezing her eyes shut as she buried her face in his chest. He immediately wrapped one arm around her, holding her close.

“What are you, her boyfriend?” He sneered, and the fear in Farrah’s heart didn’t subside much. What even could Clark do? This guy, he looked like he could be a stunt double for Thor. And Clark? Clark could be the stunt double for Captain America- pre-serum.

“I’m her BROTHER!” He said, his voice taking on a hint of fierceness that Farrah had never heard before, and somehow she knew that he was going to protect her, whatever it took. “And she clearly said no, not to mention the fact that she’s 15! Take one more step towards us and I’m calling the cops on you, you pervert!”

There was a very tense moment, a pregnant pause where Farrah could feel Clark’s heart pounding against her forehead. He talked a big game, but he was terrified. If he called their bluff? The two of them together couldn’t even come close to taking him on, especially in her state. But he must have moved away, because she felt Clark exhale.

“Whatever. She’s a fat bitch anyway.” His voice was moving away, but Clark continued to hold on for several moments. He put his other arm around her before pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“Oh, Farrah…” 

She pulled away and looked up at him, furrowing her eyebrows at the soft murmur, confused about what he meant. Before she could ask, he pulled away even more to open the door of the car for her.

“Let’s get you home.”

She obediently climbed in, again running a hand through her hair as she checked in the mirror her reflection. Her makeup was a mess and she had definitely seen better days, but the wave in her hair was gorgeous. As Clark got into the car next to her and immediately locked the door, she expected him to say something, but he stayed silent. Even as he started the car and some sort of Christian rock- Switchfoot, maybe?- started filtering through his car speakers, a little distorted because the bass was ruined. If Farrah recalled correctly, that was because when Greatest Showman came out, Annleigh adored it so much that not only did she make Clark take her to go see it in the theatres at least six different times, it was the only thing she would listen to and she would play it whenever he drove her anywhere and was not afraid to blast it.

She expected a lecture, some kind of explosion, but instead he just stared straight ahead, clutching the wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His silence was agonizing, and when she finally recognized their surroundings as he turned into their neighborhood, she braved speaking.

“Are you mad?”

“No.” He answered quickly. It wasn’t snapping at her, just a decisive statement.

“Are you sad?”

“No.” It was said the same way and she exhaled in frustration, feeling like she had to get to the bottom of this before he dropped her off, which would be soon despite the meandering streets of the neighborhood that made little sense- Clark was an expert and could navigate it like nobody’s business.

“Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Are you annoyed?”

“No.”

“Are you disgusted?”

“Farrah, I’m worried.” He said as he pulled in front of the Victorian manor replica that she called her home. 

She was surprised that he cared so much, and surprised at herself that she also felt defensive. As he unbuckled his seatbelt to turn and look at her, she crossed her arms.

“You’re only saying that because of Annleigh. You don’t care about me. Or at least you only care about me as Annleigh’s sister.”

“Farrah, look around.” He said, and she furrowed her eyebrows, turning to him. Look at what? The dark buses that lined the pathway up to the front door? The neighbors across the street who’s porch light was green instead of normal? The empty McDonalds bag at her feet? The little pop figures from whatever weeb shit he was into on the dashboard?

“Do you see Annleigh anywhere?” Her brows still furrowed, she shook her head. Of course Annleigh wasn’t here, she would be inside asleep, like the good little girl she was. “This isn’t an act for her. I’m not even planning on telling her this happened. I’m worried about you because I care about you. Not the Farrah who’s Annleigh’s sister, but the Farrah who’s an amazing flier, the Farrah who knows all the words to Princess Bride and watches it every year on her birthday, the Farrah who hasn’t taken ballet in four years but still sometimes twirls when she thinks no one is looking. I care about the Farrah who goes horseback riding and even if she’s in a skirt refuses to ride side-saddle. I care about the Farrah who hides books in her backpack because she loves to read but would hate for anyone to find out. I care about the Farrah who sits on her phone and pretends not to pay attention to whatever’s on TV but when her dad falls asleep during the middle of an episode and then when he wakes up and asks what he missed, always knows exactly what’s going on. I care about the Farrah who found an abandoned kitten in a rainstorm and took him home and took care of him until she could be rehomed despite the fact that she’s very allergic. I care about the Farrah that named that cat Aaron Purr. I care about that Farrah a whole lot more than I care about Annleigh’s sister.”

She didn’t have a response to that. Clark had only been actively in her life for about a year, since her dad got married, but in that time he had been paying attention. She had gone through the mortifying ordeal of being known by him and she didn’t even realize. But at the same time, even though those things were all true, they all seemed so far away. When was the last time she had danced? Finished a book? Gone horse riding at all? The person he described sounded like such a nice person, she wanted her back. When she realized that, she started to cry.

“Oh- oh, no, no, Farrah, please don’t cry-“ Clark started to panic, placing a hand on her back as she dropped her head into her hands as he continued to move around as if looking for something. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, I just think you’re an amazing young woman and if you keep getting into bad situations like you did tonight, I don’t know what’s going to happen-“

“Help me.” She managed to get out through her sobs, and he suddenly stilled.

“What?”

“Help me. Please.” Once she started, it seemed like she couldn’t stop, even though the plea had to be filtered through sobs and snot. “I know I’m in trouble, but I don’t know how to stop- I can’t stop. I know everyone hates me, even my friends, and I know that it’s gone too far, but I’m scared, Clark, I’m so scared-“

“Hey, hey, shhh…” His voice brought her to an immediate halt, bringing her back to earth. She looked up at him, and even with her smeared mascara, snotty nose, tear stained cheeks, and red, puffy eyes, he didn’t turn away. He didn’t recoil in disgust. He offered her some napkins from a fast food chain he must have found somewhere with an encouraging smile. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll talk to your parents with you about it. If you have to go to rehab, I’ll visit you there and write. A bunch of my friends have sisters about your age, I’ll introduce you to them and maybe you’ll really hit it off and find some better friends. It won’t be easy, but I promise you don’t have to do it alone. Just say when.”

She accepted his offering and transferred her makeup from her face to the little caricature of the Grecian from the Little Ceasers logo, thinking hard about it. Right now was not an option, even with the sun beginning to appear on the horizon, she didn’t want to wake anyone up. But she also knew if she waited too long, she would lose her nerve. She was already starting to waver as she pulled herself back together. Surely things weren’t that bad, right? She could handle it on her own. But Clark was still looking at her for an answer.

“The day after tomorrow.” She finally said, and he seemed a little confused about the random time, so she explained. “The cheer sleepover is tomorrow night. You’re picking Annleigh and I up in the morning. When you drop us off, my parents should be home.”

Understanding the timeline, he nodded. It would give him enough time to research how to be a support system for her, and it would give her enough time to figure out how to backtrack, and tell Clark she didn’t really mean it and she was actually fine. That decided, she sling her purse over her shoulder and opened the car door to get out.

“Farrah?” He asked as she put her foot on the sidewalk, and she turned a little to look at him.

“Hmm?”

The light in the interior turned on when she opened the door, so she could see him clearly for the first time all night. He looked tired, but still as charismatically cheerful as ever, the human equivalent of a golden retriever. 

“Chin up, buttercup.”

He gave her shoulder a playful punch and she couldn’t help but smile back before fully getting out of the car. As she walked up to her door, she thought that maybe it wouldn’t be too bad after all. Maybe he could help her find the girl he saw again, and she could be better. As she opened the door she looked back. He was still waiting and gave a small wave. She waved back before taking a deep breath and stepping inside, hearing his car start up again and drive off as the door closed behind her.

[da-tasuky]

I know you better than that

Guess what? I found a comfortable way for me to share this fic on tumblr too so now here we are! Everyone who was in the tags is here but I’ll refrain from tagging ya’ll on the next 2 chapters to not overkill. I’ll go back to tagging when chapter 4 is out! First 3 chapters posts in three, two, one, go!

Summary: Years ago, Marinette started exchanging emails with Damian as a favor for her uncle Alfred. Her first impression of the kid? Annoying and cold. Today, she wouldn’t change him for anything. His friendship helped to keep her afloat during hard times especially after becoming Ladybug. Now, Marinette and Alya prepare for a flight to Gotham to meet the frowny bird.

Pairing: Marinette Dupain-Cheng / Damian Wayne

Fandoms Crossover: Miraculous Ladybug / Batman

[Next]

Chapter 1: We'll meet soon

It’s been a good four years or so since Marinette started being pen pals with Damian. It was her uncle Alfred who suggested it, something about the kid having a rough uprighting and now he needed to connect with kids his age. Her maman and papa encouraged her to be patient with the boy, he didn’t know how to make friends, less how to keep a friendship.

Marinette was equal part excited to have her first pen pal and filled with righteous duty to help a kid in need at the other side of the world. Besides, it was for Uncle Alfred too. She loved him but never had the chance to do anything for him, this was a good chance to feel like she was helping him in anything.

Her first impression of Damian? Annoying and cold.

She shouldn’t have been surprised but still got mad when she read and re-read the kid correcting her spelling and criticizing her for almost everything she wrote. English was not her first language, ok? She still had a lot to learn! But she also thought the language difference played an important role in their less than ideal first email exchange. After talking with her parents, she concluded that he was just trying to help her in the best awkward way he knew. In return, she answered back with kindness.

They started exchanging emails once every week, soon it was twice a week. Marinette could feel the difference, how it was easier to roll her eyes and chuckle when he made any harsh remarks against her, his brothers, even against his father or his classmates, never against Uncle Alfred, he would never and Marinette would have never let him anyways. She soon realized how misunderstood he was, how different, and how much he was opening up to her, softening with time, slowly improving his communication skills with her.

Eventually, Marinette decided to take this one step further when it felt like emails weren’t enough for them anymore, they were sending emails back and forth almost daily and she suggested they should instant message from then on.

Their dynamic changed, he somehow became her best friend despite his harsh attitude. He was the one to keep her afloat when Chloe bullied her. His brilliant and colorful insults against the blonde made her giggle and she started to wish they could meet and spend time together as the rest of her classmates did.

So, she video called one day.

It was incredibly awkward.

Damian had become open and amiable with texting, but talking was another issue even after all this time. She suddenly remembered the reason why they started to be friends in the first place and wasn’t discouraged by his snarky tone and chopped sentences.

At the start, she thought his face, words and what she knew about him didn’t quite match. But soon she made sense of it all, he was too serious and wanted to feel above the rest, kind of wanting to hide his lack of social skills. He’ll be damned if he let any kind of weakness show! And so he acted like a petulant angry cat. His face was even contorted into a permanent resting frown. But she knew him better and just giggled at him, more than once she found herself comparing him to Chloe. Marinette wasn’t sure what to do with that at the beginning.

She changed his contact name to Eagle. Because they had resting frowns just like him.

Marinette had compared him to owls first but he quickly cut the idea down, having some kind of vendetta against the birds that he wouldn’t say. She accepted it and didn’t push when he looked truly upset about it. She ended up creating a whole library of bird pet names for him since she discovered he found these amusing for some reason. She had so many, in fact, that no one else around her seemed to remember his real name. But she mostly stuck to Demon, after hearing it from his brother Jason during a video call, she found it brilliant and fitting. And Eagle when his frown was just too much. When his brows softened she would use any other bird references, for some reason, he once choked on his tea when she called him Robin.

Sometime later, Marinette was glad she never nicknamed him Hawk.

Her life gave a huge turn when she became Ladybug. She now had a new best irl friend, Alya. She spent more time with friends and also developed a crush on Adrien. Her sporadical designer commissions became busier. Overall, she didn’t have as much free time as before.

But none of these changes, not even a mad terrorist would take her away from Damian. They still texted daily and video called. Alya even teased her about who was her real bff, Alya, or the Demon.

Marinette was nervous when she introduced both of them during a call. They didn’t quite get along at the start, not that they needed to. But they both knew about each other through Marinette and they held each other in high regard.

Until they talked for the first time.

But Marinette wanted both her best friends to get along, so after explaining their differences privately they compromised on accepting each other. After all, they both agreed that they did well for their common friend. Marinette couldn’t help but beam at them. Sometimes, the three of them really did get along and enjoyed the calls.

Damian was happy for his Angel, as he liked to call her. He insisted that she deserved everything that made her happy even if her reality seemed so detached from his own. She was grateful. She adored her Demon, her frowny Eagle with all her heart.

But happiness didn’t last long.

Someone once said that complicated things usually happened close by. Whoever said that, Marinette thought they were right. Because right now, after years of friendship with Damian, he was the only one that truly felt like a real friend to her, making her value herself and feel stronger even with just texting and scarce calls. Besides, he was a sound voice of reason.

Not only did Damian learn from Marinette, but Marinette learned some things from Damian too.

She started to stand for herself more. Ladybug got fed up with Chat Noir's attitude and she decided to call him to have a good talk about respect, that end up being incredibly awkward but hoped things cold feel normal again soon. She decided to stop pursuing Adrien. It was a hard desition but once she did, mourned him and had a good night's rest. She actually felt refreshed afterward. He clearly didn’t want her, even as far as inviting her to a double date where she wasn’t his date. And then talk about a girl he likes while Marinette doubted he was referring to said date. Either way, she wasn’t an option and suddenly felt glad her 143,6 attempts at confessing didn’t work. Yes, 143,6. Just don’t ask. Besides, most than not, they didn’t seem to be on the same page about quite a lot of things and she was so focused on the little “we are so alike” parts that she completely disregarded the number of times he made her feel worthless. Something at which Damian made sure to take as a personal offense in her instead. But they were still friends. She valued her friendship with Adrien.

Besides the hard desitions and heartbreak. She also faced another problem.

Lila.

Oh, Damian obnoxiously sharpened a katana only Tikki-knows-where he took from when she told him about the liar and her threats. Luckily, she dissuaded him from taking a flight straight to Paris that very instant.

But now she wishes he had, to gut Lila, just to have him by her side.

Because now she had to endure watching Lila making up more and more ridiculous claims while the class marveled at her like she held the moon on her hands, little did they know she held just air. Fart air if Marinette might add.

Marinette grew to take no shit from others, something she picked up from Damian, but the second she decided to stand against Lila proved to be a mistake. The girl was just too good at twisting everything Marinette could say or prove. It was infuriating.

Adrien just looked at her with pity, like she was digging her own grave. She couldn’t find it in herself to be mad at him, he was right after all. She really ended just digging herself deeper and deeper. Her new position of “no longer crushing on Adrien” gave her the push to be mad at him for not supporting her openly and not even that lasted. He just didn’t have it in him to do a move in front of everyone, it was against his principles and he might also be scared to do it, she eventually became aware of that and she graciously accepted their differences.

If Damian was here, he wouldn’t have been that passive. But not everyone had the privilege to grow strong and bold like her or Damian.

This drama also caused Marinette to become a bit more reserved around Alya, as much as her friendship with her remained strong, they just couldn’t agree on much when it involved Lila. They decided to compromise in agree to disagree. And so be it.

Not everything was bad, Marinette tried to focus more on the silver lining. Lila hasn’t been able to fulfill her threat. Not for lack of trying, but because her friends weren’t as foolish as she thought they were. And the biggest surprise was the fact that Marinette actually began an awkward friendship with Chloe. Yep, friends with Chloe Bourgeois. Her sworn enemy and bully. Turns out that if Marinette was able to see good in Damian of all people, then she’s able to see it in Chloe. After all, Damian was a harder nut to crack than Chloe, Marinette felt like a real beastmaster by now.

Besides feeling slightly insulted at the remark when she told him, he didn’t get it. “Why?” he had asked. Marinette couldn’t help but giggle, they really were alike. With an annoying superiority complex that completely impedes them to act according to their feelings. Both never knew how to go around things. She wondered if they could become great friends or deadly enemies if they met.

As worn out as Marinette was with everything going on, she took strength on the fact she was now making her luggage, getting ready to go to Gotham along with her class. And hopefully, spend some quality time with her dear Demon.

As she walked up to the mirror to check on her looks with the Horse Miraculous, a rose gold-rimmed sunglasses over her hair, Chloe style! She would be proud. Her phone went off.

“Hey, Als! Got your things ready?” Marinette asked happily.

“Yeah, girl! Aren’t you excited? You are finally going to meet your Demon!” Alya’s voice came from the speakers.

“I know! I’m so nervous, Alya!”

“I gotta say, I’m not thrilled to meet with his legendary frown but you still gotta arrange a way for me to at least say hi to him, ok? Before you ditch the class and go elope with him.”

“Alya!” She shrieked scandalized.

“What!? You know you will!”

“It’s not like that with him!”

“Cut the crap. I hear you both, you sound like you are already dating!”

Marinette bit her lip. “You think he likes me like that? I’m not sure if I like him like that.”

“Just spend time with him and you’ll find out, girl.” She said gently. “But in all honesty? I think you both already like each other that way. If I remember correctly! He did make some murderous comments against Adrien when you were crushing on him.” Marinette could almost hear her wiggling eyebrows and groaned while blushing. “Besides the fact that he’s only ever soft with you, of course. And you do get all dreamy talking about him.”

“I do not!” Marinette squeaked.

“Do too! Face it! Even Lila says he is perfect for you! And you know she’s a great matchmaker!”

‘Yeah, just because she wants me out of her way.’ Marinette thought bitterly and couldn’t help but make a face “I told you not to talk about my Dove to her, Als. You promised.”

“What’s the deal, though? Everyone knows you have an online friend you always chat with. I just told her about all the ridiculous pet names you have for him. WHICH made me realize I don’t even remember his real name!”

Marinette was caught between a groan and a giggle when her phone went off with an incoming video call. “Speaking of the Devil! Eagle frown is calling. Als, call you later?”

“No can do, girl. I still got some stuff to get ready before the flight tomorrow morning. Go to bed early!”

“See you tomorrow!” Marinette accepted the incoming call and Damian face appeared on the screen, the corner of his lips turned upwards.

“Hey, Demon Spawn!” Marinette beamed at him.

He instantly frowned again. “Nope, you are NOT meeting my brothers.”

She gasped. “Come on, little D, you promised!”

“Reluctantly.” He deadpanned.

She smiled again. “I got everything, I think! Extra clothes, just in case-”

“Smart. Everything is possible with that bi-”

“A new recipe book maman and I did for Uncle Al and gifts and souvenirs for all your family!” She finished like Damian hasn’t said anything. He instantly melted, Marinette marveled at how his brow relaxed and the corner of his lip lifted just a few pixels. Yep, that’s melting in Damian’s book. She really wanted to see how it looked like outside a screen.

“The gifts are unnecessary.” See? His face says one thing, but his words are another thing entirely!

“You still like I’m bringing them.” His lack of an answer was a clear affirmative. He was possibly glaring at her. Yup, he’s glaring at her since she read him right. “Last chance, Hummingbird, do you want me to bring you something?”

“Just you it’s enough, Angel.” Marinette blushed.

It wasn’t much. Damian wasn’t like Adrien, Alya, her parents. But he acknowledged the fact that he wanted her there and that’s a sign of affection coming from him. It’s enough to get her flustered now, especially if she compared it with their first interactions. “We have really come a long way, uh?” She sighed, he just kept silent, waiting for her to elaborate. “You really were a little shit at the start, you know?”

“Tt.”

“We are still young but I feel like we have both matured so much.”

“For the record, you were too childish and naive.” She giggled. He looked at his hands for a long while, clearly thinking about how to phrase his next words. “Moving in with Bruce was… hard. Too different. I used to be on top of everything, then with Bruce I was suddenly below the standard.” He took a deep breath. “It was infuriating. But eventually, I understood what they meant when they said I wasn’t ready.” She saw his cat jump over his shoulder, Damian scratched the cat’s ear and then he smirked up at her. “Then Alfred suggested being your pen pal, I was against it. It was stupid. Why would I have to reduce myself to email a child on the other side of the world? Besides, your first email was nothing but lacking.”

“Ass. I did my best on that first email.” She smiled at him, he didn’t usually open up like this, he must be emotional since they were going to meet soon.

“I’m glad I didn’t drop it, even when I tried. My brothers and Jon pushed me to answer you every week, Tim would hack my email to confirm I emailed you. And if they failed, Alfred stepped up.”

“I’m glad you didn’t give up.“ She smiled at him. “Although there were times when you totally disappeared.” She tapped at her lips.

“We don’t talk about those times.” He shook his head while Alfred the cat moved to sniff the camera, covering the screen with his nose. “There was nothing I could do about that.”

“Hey, Al Kitty!” Marinette cooed at the cat while other noises came from the phone.

Suddenly, a series of blurs moved on the screen. “Hey, little lady! You arriving at Gotham tomorrow?”

“Jason!?” Jason's face filled the screen while he ran out of Damian’s oversized room.

“Give that back, Todd!” Came Damian’s offscreen voice. Clearly both where on a mad dash to somewhere in the house. Nothing new, in all honesty.

“Yeah! Tomorrow we’ll take it easy to settle!” Jason skidded to a stop where she could see the rest of the family. “Oh! Hey everyone!”

She heard various and different greetings. “Marinette! I’ll be your guide to WE!” Dick smiled getting into the frame.

“Wa- Really!? That’s amazing but- wait! You work there?”

“Yeah, we all do, with Tim, Jason, and Bruce, of course. You didn’t know?” Dick asked confused.

“I don’t think Damian ever mentioned that?” She arched an eyebrow. The phone was suddenly snatched from Jason's hand and Damian's annoyed face replaced his family.

“I have no reason to talk about you idiots to her.” Damian glared somewhere off-screen.

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be mean.”

“They are my brothers, they deserve it.”

Marinette had no idea what having brothers entailed. But she grew knowing about Damian’s let’s say… interesting relationship with his brothers. Their fights were terrifying but even after pulling all kinds of things against each other, they still loved and supported each other. Marinette could see roughly the same with Alya and her sisters so that must be normal between siblings. Just… with fewer guns and knives. Marinette was never going to forget how horrified she was when she learned Jason had shoot Damian with an actual gun! Just because they had a quarrel about Bruce or something. Damian just brushed it off, saying they were cool afterward. Besides, Jason always seemed like a sweetie pie to her. Maybe it was a Gotham thing. Yeah, she was totally going to go with that. It’s a Gotham thing.

“Marinette, dear.” She heard Alfred's voice off-screen and Damian angled the camera to him. “Would you like to join us tomorrow for dinner? I already sent some papers with Sabine to your teacher. She’s aware of your family in Gotham and our desire to spend time together with you. There shouldn’t be any problems as long as you inform her you will be with us.”

A warm feeling filled her heart. ‘Family.’ Yes, they weren’t family by blood nor paper, but they were Uncle Alfred family, so they might as well be Marinette’s family too. It was the same wonderful feeling she gets when Uncle Jagged called her his honorary niece.

“Of course Uncle Al! I can’t believe I’ll see you all tomorrow!” She gasped. “TOMORROW! I can’t believe it!” She heard some of them chuckling and was partly aware of Damian walking away from his family saying something… possibly rude. While she freaks out now that realization dawned on her. “I can’t believe time passed by so fast! I haven’t seen Uncle Alfred since I was like nine! And it’s totally my first time officially meeting all of the Waynes! OH MY GOD IT’S GOING TO BE THE FIRST TIME! Like! IN THE FLESH! No calls! No video calls! What should I wear? I don’t think I have-”

“Angel, Angel. Stop! Look at the screen.” Marinette realized she had been pulling at her hair and looked at him. “Seriously, we had already seen you in your pajamas while we deploy a food fight and you are worried about first impressions? Newsflash, too late for that. If anyone should be worried, it’s me. This time my brothers could scare you away for good.”

She snorted. “After so long, I doubt that’s possible.” Her phone went off again with an incoming video call. “OH, YES THANK YOU! Got a call, I’ll update you tomorrow?”

“Yes, and be careful. This is Gotham.”

“Of course! Bisous! Bye!” She answered the call.

“Show me what you are packing, Dupain-Cheng. You better no embarrass me looking like garbage.” Chloe glared at the screen.

“Chloe, Queenie, my hero! Just in time! I was freaking out!!”

“Figured. Nice sunglassed by the way. Seems like you are learning from the best!”

Marinette laughed. “Thanks! But I have an important dinner at Gotham and… Actually, I have to look good every day! I’m not sure if what I have is good enough or if-”

“Yeah yeah whatever, just show me already.” Chloe rolled her eyes, not willing to let her drown in her dramatics.

Marinette complied and let herself feel reassured the longer she displayed her outfits to her friend. Both of them discussing the pros and cons of everything. If it were only for Chloe, she would have two suitcases for the trip. But Marinette wouldn’t let her be dragged in that direction.

Things were really looking up for her and her trip.

🐦

[Next]

Thanks for reading! ♥

Taglist:  @thewheezingbubbledragon @livpc @vivilakitty @mikantsume@treebrosha@disorganizedkitten @graduatedmelon @thatrandomfandomsgirl​ @mochinek0​ @iglowinggemma28​ @master-jarrus​ @two-faced-biatch​ @hypnosharkrebeldreamer​ @elspethshadow​ @heldtogetherbysafetypins​ @spicybelladonna​ @ivette0712​ @hell-or-high-waters​ @scribblinggraveyard​ @roseunivers999​ @theatreandcomicfreak @7-sage-7​

[exkernal]

Philosophy Class for Rock Bottom Demons: 1/3

A/N: I don’t know why I’m finally getting around to posting this old fic now, but I’m in a hellstrop mood

As Michael watches the humans snipe and scurry about (he doesn't care what Eleanor says, that cockroach analogy was on point) he thinks, this is rock bottom. A demon begging his torturees for help; that's as low as it gets.

Then Eleanor tells him he has to take philosophy class.

Does she forget whom she's dealing with? He's not some zit-speckled check out boy who will "remember" that he already scanned her margarita mix if she yells enough. Despite his appearance of bespectacled innocence, at his core he is pure immortal evil that has been torturing humans since before her grandmother's grandmother's grandmother's grandmother was even conceived, thank you. Does Eleanor know how much force is needed to pry the nail from a grown man's big toe? Does she know the sound a human makes when tossed into a giant juicer? No--but Michael does, and she'd best not forget it.

Except maybe he's the one who's forgotten whom he's dealing with, as Eleanor throws his words back in his face until he's well and truly cornered.

So now he's taking philosophy class.

Now this, this is rock bottom, Michael thinks, as Chidi, in all of his sweater-vested glory, hands out their neatly printed syllabi.

"Right. Now that we all have our syllabi--"

"Oh, dip," Jason says, his eyes impossibly wide. "Are you sure that's safe?"

Chidi blinks. His forehead scrunches up in that way it does.

"Pardon?"

"I mean aren't those those weird monster thingies that make you like mad horny?"

Michael catches Eleanor's eye, and they quickly look away.

"I--you're--no. Jason, you're thinking of a succubi. These are syllabuses." Chidi winces, as if the improper grammar physically pains him.

It doesn't clear things up.

"Chidi, man, if you need to see a doctor I know this dope one in Jacksonville. She accepts food stamps as payment and doesn't ask questions if you come in with jellyfish stings around your ding dong--"

"Jason, you're thinking of--you know what, never mind."

Then again, maybe it won't be so bad if he gets a front row seat to Chidi being tortured by his students.

                                                                                               * * * * *

The syllabus is garbage. Human philosophy is garbage. Every higher being knows that, even the stuck up angels farting around in the real Good Place.

(Not that Michael's actually met an angel before, but still).

He'll just have to fake it. Put on his best face, lure the humans into trusting him.

It'll be easy.

                                                                                                * * * * *

This is rock bottom, the knowledge of existence's fleeting nature. Of the expanding, gaping maw of the abyss that will devour them all as easily as dog-spiders devour human eyeballs. How can anyone expect him to go on like this, knowing the fate that almost certainly awaits him (because let's be real, Shawn will find out eventually)? Why was he even created all of those eons ago if this is his ultimate fate? How can existence even continue without Michael, who's always existed before? How can--?

It's okay. Eleanor's showed him. If he can just push those feelings down, and keep pushing and pushing and--

Eleanor's towering above him. Huh. Usually she's not because she's so ridiculously tiny. He remembers the reboots where she got so angry she physically attacked him--it was hilarious, like a chihuahua barking at a grizzly bear. Her eyes are more blue than green tonight, maybe because of her dress.

"All humans are aware of death," she says,"so we're all a little bit sad, all the time. That's just the deal."

"Sounds like a crappy deal," he mutters.

"Well, yeah, it is," she says, sitting down, "but we don't get offered any other ones."

Eleanor's gaze is absent of any judgement or mockery or disdain. He can't recognize what he sees, because no one's ever looked at him that way before, not humans or demons or Janets. It's not sad but not happy either; it's more like she somehow knows what he's feeling even if he doesn't say it, and that's okay. Her eyes tell him that it's okay.

It doesn't make it better, exactly, but maybe it's not rock bottom either.

                                                                                                 * * * * *

"It's so forking stupid! 'How can you tell if an action is good or bad blah blah blah?' Because of the points, dummy! The points tell you if it's good or bad, Professor Know It All."

"I feel you, bud," Eleanor says, lounging with her feet on the coffee table, a notebook propped up against her legs. "But--and don't rip my head off or whatever you guys do--"

"It's rip your head off," Michael says.

"Right. I'm just saying, maybe things would go a little better if you didn't rip the pages out of every book Chidi gives you."

She might have a point there.

                                                                                               * * * * *

"In this experiment, people continued 'shocking' patients even after they heard them beg and scream. The influence of authority was too strong, and overrode their moral instincts. So the question this possess is how do we stick to our morals in the face of conflicting authority? Yes, Michael?"

"I don't understand the problem. When your superiors tell you to up the voltage, it's a good thing. Why wouldn't I want to use the shocks--why are you all looking at me like that?"

All four humans stare at him like his human disguise just slipped.

Chidi squints. He rubs his hand against his forehead. Michael can see the sweat beading on his face.

"Michael, you're still thinking like a demon. From a human perspective, we don't want to torture people. I think you need another ten lines."

Michael sighs, but he doesn't question it.

"People good," he mumbles, as the chalk screeches against the board.

"Keep it up, bud," Chidi encourages. "You'll get there eventually."

                                                                                             * * * * *

"Why did you give me Les Miserables? That thing's almost as long as your stupid thesis!"

Chidi frowns. "Thank you, once again, for casually insulting my life's work."

"Come on, man, you gave Jason Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret."

"Did you seriously just compare your intellectual abilities to those of Jason Mendoza?"

"...fair point."

                                                                                           * * * * *

What was Chidi's problem?

Michael searches for Eleanor's eyes. She's good at explaining things; out of all of the humans, she makes the most sense. But Eleanor won't look at him. She actually looks away from him, following wordlessly after Chidi.

Michael doesn't understand.

                                                                                           * * * * *

"I can't high five that!" Eleanor shouts. "No matter how much I want to."

Michael turns away, laughing. She seems like she's mad at him too, but then he gets her laughing with the reddit story. Things can't be that bad if he can still make her laugh.

It doesn't last for long.

Eleanor tells him that this is entirely up to him to fix, then leaves, before he can think of a retort. He's left alone to wonder how the here he can worm his way back into Chidi's good graces.

Wait, what? Why does he even want to make it up to Chidi? He should be thrilled; he didn't want to attend those stupid, worthless, stupid, boring, stupid classes to begin with! Now he can have his proverbial cake (teaming up with the humans) and eat it too (no dumb classes). This is perfect.

Now he has more time to write fake torture reports instead of reading up on those old farts. Or complaining about reading with Eleanor and Jason and sometimes Tahani. Or seeing Tahani's shocked delight whenever he shares some surprising tidbits about her celebrity pals. Or trying not to laugh at the expression on Chidi's face during yet another of Jason's long winded anecdotes. Or sitting besides Eleanor, occasionally cheating off of her, each doing their best to make the other laugh. Now he doesn't have to waste any more time with any of that nonsense.

It's perfect.

                                                                                           * * * * *

There's something wrong with his chest as he watches Tahani clutch her diamond and Eleanor gush over her shrimp dispensary. It's warm, not warm like whenever he got too close to the fire pits, but softer, and not exactly unpleasant. He still doesn't get Chidi's deal, not entirely, but he's back on Team Cockroach, so everything's fine.

                                                                                           * * * * *

He's on his best behavior for his first day back to philosophy class. He doesn't rip the pages out of his book, doesn't talk about torture or mention humans' stupid anatomy. He doesn't even laugh at Eleanor and Jason's many jokes about happiness pumps, though that's partly because he doesn't get most of them.

                                                                                          * * * * *

Chidi passes back last week's philosophy papers. "Everyone's made great progress since we've started. You should be proud."

Eleanor leans over to Michael. "What did you get, bud?"

He shows her.

"Dang, A. Good for you, Michael."

"Well, I am a superior being," he says, rubbing his leg and smiling like a dope.

"Hey, we should celebrate. Do demons celebrate? Or is that just torture for you guys?"

It's just torture. He knew better than to ask Eleanor if he can have a go at one of them (like forcing Jason to listen to a blow-by-blow recap of every Jaguars defeat). Besides, he doesn't really want to, anyway.

Huh. Imagine that.

Instead he says, "In some of the other reboots, you would try to distract me from investigating the neighborhood anamolies by doing fun human stuff. We played aracade games, sang karaoke, went bowling--"

Suddenly, Jason jumps into the conversation. "Laser tag! Did you play laser tag?"

Michael thinks. "No, we never got around to that."

"Yo, homies, we have to play laser tag. I am a beast at laser tag. Me and Pillboi would do a bunch of shrooms and then go crazy all over the place. Also, I think I shot a mall cop once. Or maybe that was a dream."

Eleanor nods. "Laser tag could be fun. Don't know about the shrooms part."

She eyes Chidi, silently asking him.

"Definitely not," he says.

Twenty minutes later, thanks to Janet, Michael finds himself wearing purple plastic strapped over his chest and carrying a fake gun, surrounded by enough multi-colored smoke to fork up the humans' vision but not his. Without ever explicitly agreeing to anything, he and Eleanor have formed an alliance. He saves her from Jason's sneak attack, and together they shoot him in the chest twenty times.

"Yes!" Micheal shouts.

"Eat that!" Eleanor screams.

"Aw, man," Jason says, with the same dejected look as when he popped Pikachu.

He and Eleanor high five.

Then his chest lights up.

"Ooh," Tahani says, smiling like she can't believe her luck. Michael can't either. "I'm starting to get the hang of this!"

She notices the murderous glint in Eleanor's eyes, and bolts into the smoke.

"Don't worry, I'll avenge you," Eleanor tells him, then she shouts after Tahani, "You're going to die, you sexy skyscraper!"

That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to him.

                                                                                    * * * * *

So he can't marbalize Janet. And also may have teared up in front of her, despite no known demon ever crying before. So what?

                                                                                    * * * * *

Eleanor Shellstrop is an enigma. Nothing about her behavior on Earth indicates she should be able--or willing--to sincerely change, and yet she has. She has a limited human brain yet she keeps outwitting him. No one can rile him up like her, yet no one understands him quite like her, either.

Also, he made him a paperclip bracelet that one time.

That's why he visits her instead of Chidi when he's feeling frustrated with ethics. Because even if she is a human, she understands him more than his own kind ever did.

They sit across from eachother. In the artifical light, he can't tell if her eyes are more blue or green.

They talk a while, and in the end, she tells him that she believes in him. That she believes it will all work out. He doesn't fully understand why, but the words stay with him long after he leaves, keeping a smile on his face that he can't wipe away even if he tries. He's still smiling when he walks into his office and sees Shawn at his desk.

                                                                                   * * * * *

Shawn tells him it's everything he ever wanted, and he can't disagree. Because it is. As an apprentice, toiling away on others' designs, he dreamed of the moment that his own work would be recognized. Micheal the Architect, senior staff member, exhalted in the Bad Place.

It would be so easy to snatch the pin, place it on his lapel, and pretend that the last few months never happened.

He's not sure what will happen to Janet, though. It's not like they can realistically sneak her back to the warehouse. Maybe they'll reboot her, and reuse her for a replica neighborhood. As for the humans, he knows exactly what will happen to them; they'll be tortured forever. He tries to imagine it. For some reason, he keeps going back to the moment that Trevor threw his arm around Eleanor, prepared to take her to the "Bad Place," and the way she looked, resigned and disgusted all at once.

He remembers stretching his hand out to her, and her accepting. He remembers leading her back to the fake Good Place.

It turns out he's already made his choice.

He doesn't even regret it.

                                                                                    * * * * *

He collapses into Eleanor's arms like a puppet whose strings were cut, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I was so worried for you! You're my friends and I wanted to save you!"

Eleanor whispers that it's okay. He wishes he could believe her, he really does, but he can't escape the fact that they're completely and utterly forked. The humans still think he can get them to the real Good Place, but he knows that they don't have a chance. They're at the end of the road. They've seemingly run out of options.

But maybe he can figure it out, if he stalls long enough. He's done it before when he thought he hit rock bottom, and he can do it again. He always figures something out.

                                                                                    * * * * *

He doesn't figure it out.

                                                                                    * * * * *

The Shellstrops are right about one thing: drinking really does help.

He tells stories about past reboots that get everyone laughing. Someone (Eleanor or Jason, he can't remember which) suggest Never Have I Ever. Michael figures out the trick after two turns, getting everyone, even Janet, out with gems like "never have I ever been rebooted," "never have I ever smashed food holes," "never have I ever had a beating heart," and "never have I ever been to Earth." By the time they try to gang up on him ("never have I ever tortured humans," "never have I ever worn a fake human suit," and Jason's "never have I ever worn a bowtie", which gets both Chidi and Tahani fuming  because Micheal and weird turtle dealers aren' t the only one's who wear bowties, Jason) it's already too late.

"That's not, that's not even fair," Tahani says, swaying sligtly. "How do we even know--can you even get drunk?"

"I can," Michael says with dignity. "It just takes longer."

"Prove it!" Eleanor starts up the drunken chant, getting the others to all chime in. "Prove it! Prove it!"

So Michael downs an entire bottle of whiskey in one go.

In retrospect, that might not have been his smartest decision.

                                                                                   * * * * *

In the end, Eleanor's the one to come of with the crazy, bound to fail plan. The humans slowly trickle back to their beds, since humans need to be well rested before facing off against impossible odds, until it's just him and Eleanor left sprawled on the blanket, their legs stretching out before them. Eleanor rests against his side. Tonight, in the Michael-made starlight, her eyes look more green than blue. There's a pleasant buzz in Micheal's brain, leaving him light and (despite everything) happy.

"Micheal," Eleanor says suddenly. "Do you think there's something wrong with me?"

"Not particularly," he says. "Why?"

"You said that me and Chidi were 'in love,'" she starts to use air quotes but gives up halfway. "But now we're not. Or he doesn't feel that way, or can't decide what way he feels, I don't even know. I don't know if it's me--if there's just something unloveable about me."

Something about that statement hurts Micheal, but he's not sure why. He's no good with feelings talk--he only just learned what 'guilt' means. But Eleanor was there for him when he needed it (a smile across a table, a hand patting his back) so he gives it his best shot.

"Chidi's just Chidi," he says. "He's trapped in his own Chidi world, which, just between us, is what made torturing him so fun. There's nothing wrong with you. Whatever Chidi's dealing with, it's not beccause you're 'unloveable' or whatever."

They're quiet for a moment.

"Hey, Micheal? Do you really think kissing is that gross?"

His face twists in disgust. "Yes. But to be fair, I think a lot of human bodily functions are disgusting."

"Cuz we're like cockroaches," Eleanor nods sagely.

That's not...entirely right, but he can't figure out why.

"Sooooo," she says. He knows that look in her eyes. "Does that mean you wouldn't ever try kissing? Just to say you tried it?"

He barks out a laugh. "When would I ever get the chance to try it?"

"Well, we could. Right now. If you want."

Michael feels too warm again. He's having trouble meeting those more-green-than-blue eyes. He's suddenly aware of how close they are, pressed together like this.

"Why--would you--you, you actually want to?"

"Sure."

He's always trusted Eleanor before when it came to human things. And he can't lie to himself: he does like the feel of her in his arms, pressed so closely that he can feel her heart beat, away from everyone else. He doesn't want it to end.

"Okay," he says softly.

It's a little awkward at first, because Micheal doesn't know what to do while Eleanor shuffles around, positioning herself in front of him. She closes her eyes, so he does too. Her hands are on his back and her lips press against his. It's...nice. Her lips are soft and warm and not as gross as he expected.

She pulls away too soon. She leans forward, like she wants to sit on his lap, but loses her balance. He catches her before she faceplants the grass.

" 'm okay," she says.

A voice in his head, which sounds suspiciously like Professor Buzzkill, tells him she's not.

"Okay, it's time for bed," he says. "Sleep it off."

She lets out a disappointed whine, but she doesn't fight him. He pulls her to her feet and walks her back to the clown house. Just as they reach the door ("Ya know," Eleanor slurrs, "tonight I'm not even gonna mind the creepy clowns watching me sleep."), a terrible thought occurs to him.

"Eleanor? Was I a rebound?"

"What? Pff, no. You're not a rebound. You're...you're Micheal."

He pretends that he knows what she means.

                                                                                       * * * * *

Why didn't he grab another pin? Stupid, stupid. Eleanor watches him fumble through the jackets, trying not to freak out, but he can feel the tension radiating off of her from the seventh dimension.

It's too late. Shawn's on the balcony. He has two options. He could go through the portal after the others, leaving Eleanor behind to be torture. Forever. Or he could give her his pin, be retired for sure, while Eleanor has only a slim chance of winning her case.

Once, there wouldn't have even been a choice. He doesn't want to be retired. He remembers his existential panic when Chidi explained death to him. He thought it was the worst possible fate.

Now, peering into Eleanor's panicked face, he can think of another.

She doesn't understand as he explains the trolley problem, not until he removes his senior staff pin and pins it on her dress.

"No," she says.

"Take care of the others," he says. He is sad that he won't get to see them all on the other side, but he knows that they're all in good hands if Eleanor's there to guide them.

"Goodbye, Eleanor," he says, pushing her through the portal. He's tempted to kiss her before she goes, because that warm feeling is building up in his chest and it needs an outlet,  but there's no time. He hopes she understands all of the things he doesn't say, because he sure as hell doesn't.

She vanishes. She's safe now, he thinks as he waits for Shawn to reach him. He knows that he's facing rock bottom--in all of eternity, only eleven demons have been retired--but he can't find it in himself to care.

[whoever-iwant-tobe]

It wasn’t meant to be a long game. (part 3 of ?)

David x Natalie– 

Sorry this took so long!

honestly, what I imagine their history and life to be. Obviously this is made up, but some of the actual timeline stuff is most positively messed up because my memory is shit so just pretend my timeline is entirely fictional so that you aren’t holding me to any type of standards. This is my first fic ever and is probably teeming with errors (part 3).

Warnings: still none yet, maybe part 4? we shall see!

____________________________

When the hug ended, you smiled at each other and went your separate ways into your rooms, to bed. After the conversation-- after the hug that made you feel safer than anything else in your life-- the two of you became a lot physically closer. Your shoulders would be pressed up against one another on the couch, in his bed editing. You’d bump one another as you walked side by side, and you were rarely more than 10 feet away from one another at any given time. That hug was like an unspoken commitment, but it didn’t mean you were more than friends. 

The next thing started with a fight.

It was a fight about a vlog, one of the primary things you two would bicker about. He could no longer edit without you, which meant you had a pretty big role in his posting twice weekly. It would have been 3 times weekly if you hadn’t staged a whole ass intervention to save everyone in the VS’s sanity (but mostly yours and David’s). This time you were both laid back in his bed (not weird), it was nearing 3am, and everyone else had gone home. You watched him work and consulted on every miniscule decision as he put together another 4 minutes and 20 seconds of footage to share with millions of people.

David wanted to include yet another confession of yet another instagram model confessing his love to him while he denies them. He got a weird kick out of it, while you couldn’t help but feel bad for the girls. You know they agreed to include the footage, and some of them probably only participated for clout, but it was frustrating nonetheless.

It wasn’t that you thought he had feelings for any of those girls. You knew David well enough to know that he doesn’t operate like that. He’s a heart guy. If he doesn’t love you as a person, inside and out, and have a genuine friendship-love connection, there will not be a sexual connection. 

It frustrated you because you knew how much it hurt him when you did that to him as a teenager. You knew how much he resented and internalized it. You’d heard it from his friends. It’s no secret what a blow it was to his ego. You don’t think it’s fair that he’s doing it to the girls. like it’s some weird form of payback by proxy.

You also knew you had no business correcting him, but you did it anyways.

“That’s so fucking obnoxious” you mutter under your breath.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing”

“No, what’s fucking obnoxious? Tell me”

“I just don’t think it’s right that you are exploiting another girl like that. Like she has feelings you know” you blurt out.

David just rolls his eyes and keeps editing. But you already started laying into him, so why stop now.

“David, you know what it’s like to be rejected. Why are you broadcasting these girl’s rejections all over the internet?” You sat up on the bed where you’d been lounging next to him.

“They literally gave permission. What the fuck do you want from me?” now he was getting defensive.

“I want you to think about how other people feel for once in your life!” 

He just stared back at you, shocked. You two bickered, yeah. But this was kind of a low blow for you. And it wasn’t even true. You knew David cared about people. He cared a LOT about people. He wouldn’t use footage if someone really didn’t want it out there (barring a few special circumstances) and he was actually really thoughtful and caring when he wasn’t over the top stressed about getting a vlog out.

After the words flew out of your mouth, a big part of you regretted them. But another part of you really was mad at him. Maybe you were mad that he was exploiting those girls’ feelings. Or maybe you were mad because you hurt his all those years ago. Or maybe you were mad because you had real feelings for him and you had no fucking clue where his head was at and it fucking sucked.

You grabbed the pillow that had been between the two of you, hugged it tight to your chest and face, and shouted “UGH!” to avoid just word vomiting everything you were thinking. It helped.

When you uncovered your face, David was still staring at you, puzzled.

You could see in his face that he was trying to work out why you were suddenly so mad about this. You’d never said anything before when he did this with Cindy or Tana or Kelsey all those months ago. Why now?

“Nat, what’s this about?” his voice was soft now. His eyes dug into yours, looking for an answer. “This can’t be about her.”

“No David, it’s about you.” Your words are less aggressive than before, but they still come out harsher than you’d like.

“Nat, what’s going on?”

“I just don’t want you to regret hurting them publicly. Regretting something like that really sucks, and sometimes you have to regret it for a fucking long time.”

That was a half truth, at least. The wheels were turning in his head. He turned his body to face yours, pulling his leg to the side so he could sit up straight too. His eyes still staring into yours.

“This is about me. Is this about us?”

You’d had a lot of deep conversations since the tides had turned and the two of you’d become closer, but this was the one subject you hadn’t broached since the brief mention of regrets on that flight to Boston.

Back into the pillow you went, face buried, avoiding. You stayed there, and he waited. You could hear him shift, leaning into the headboard. You could feel his eyes still on you.

“Natalie, it’s okay.”

Silence.

“Nat, I’m a big boy. My feelings aren’t hurt because you rejected me in high school, if that’s what this is about.”

You release a puff of air into the pillow. Still not coming out.

“Come on Nat. It’s really fine. Look, now I have boring insta models in love with me! I’ve recovered!” he jokes. He’s trying real hard to get you to come out of your pillow. He can’t see your eyes roll.

He puts a hand on your back and you melt into it. He pats you right between your shoulder blades, trying to comfort you. You take a breath and finally sit up. His hand falls off your back, but stays right next to your hip on the bed. 

“I don’t just regret hurting your feelings. I mean I do, but that’s not it.”

Now he’s picking at a loose thread from your hoodie right where his hand had landed on the bed, face puzzled still, trying to figure out your point. You were good with words, but way better when rehearsed.

Now it was your turn to talk. “David I have regretted so much for the past 10 fucking years, but the biggest thing is not letting myself feel what I felt. I didn’t let myself even have a chance and it was so fucking stupid. And now we’re here and I get to watch girls throw themselves at you and then I have literally no fucking clue where your head is at and you’re like the most important person in my life and it’s just all so fucked up. And it’s all my fucking fault.”

Silence. So you keep talking.

“You said you didn’t want to lose me, but I don’t want to lose you EVER. Not now or in a year or when you eventually find some model to marry. And it’s such bullshit for me to even be telling you this or to make you feel bad because it’s my fault.”

More silence.

“You know what. I should go. I think I need a vacation. I’ll see if Taylor is ready to cover for me or I’ll call Cas. I’ve got to..”

“Natalie.” He finally speaks, gently.

“What?” It comes out like a bite, full defense mode now. You said way more than you meant to and there was no going back now.

“Why do you think I’m going to marry a model?”

Of course THAT’S the part he dwells on. This time, you lean back into the headboard and bring the pillow up to cover your face. “UGH!” you groan again.

He laughs and pulls the pillow down, resting it in your lap and holding it there with your hands so you can’t hide again.

“You know that’s not my type. Besides, WE’RE married. Jason said so!” He’s really trying to get you to laugh now, and it works.

You let out a small laugh, and his hands that were holding the pillow down go to grab your arms atop the pillow as well. His thumb rubs at your arm softly. You finally look back at him.

“Natalie, remember how I was in love with you at 14?”

“Obviously, I think that’s how I got myself into this mess”

“Well I don’t feel that way anymore.”

“Great”

“No, when I was 14, I thought I loved you because you were cute and athletic and laughed at my jokes.”

“Awesome”

“But now, you’re still all those things, but you’re also like sooo much more. So I feel so much more too. You’re strong, you’re fucking hilarious, you get shit done, and you make me feel so much better than I ever did before. I feel secure with you here.”

You look in his eyes. It’s easy to tell that he’s being sincere. He keeps rubbing your arm, and you move your other hand to hold onto his wrist while you think.

But then you let go. “Why do you always act like you’ve been insulted when people insinuate something is going on between us? And I’m always the assistant, never the best friend or even friend.” The pain from those instances is coming back.

The hand that you’d let go, he grabs with his own. “I have spent so much time trying to not feel anything for you, first because I felt like I didn’t deserve you after everything when we were kids. Then because of Shawn.”

“Well why now? Why still?”

“You really wanna know? It’s a fucking list.” You nod. “One, because we’ve been friends forever and if we fuck that up I’ll never forgive myself. Two, you’re the ONLY person who can do what you do for me and I don’t want to fuck that up. Three, I still don’t fucking deserve you. I’ll fuck it up like I did with Liza and then everything will be fucked. Oh and four, I don’t want the fans to destroy you and I don’t know what they’d do.”

“Well then I guess we’ve been worrying about the same shit” you laugh. He smiles. “You didn’t fuck up with Liza though. You’ve got to stop blaming yourself for that. That was a team effort and no one deserves blame.”

“Yeah, but I can’t lose you like I lost her.” David looks down at your hands tangled together. You lift one to his cheek to bring him to look at you.

“How many times do I have to tell you, you aren’t going to lose me. Ever.”

You both stayed still and silent for a moment. And soon it was a moment too long. You couldn’t take the silence. “I’m gonna go to bed. Let’s finish the edit tomorrow. The people will live.” You get up and start walking around the bed and to the door.

It takes David a second to realize what’s happening, but he gets up and follows you, grabbing you by the shoulder as you’re about to cross into the hallway. You turn to face him.

“Wait,” he breathes. “Stay here.” 

Without even realizing what was happening, David’s mouth was on yours. Who moved first? It didn’t matter. What mattered right now was that your heart felt like it grew wings and your stomach flipped in all the right ways. His hands held your face and yours held on to his waist. Then his hands fell to your hips, pulling you closer towards him. When you pulled back to take a breath, you could see the need in his eyes, and your heart urged you to get closer to him. This kiss was 10 years coming.  You were not ready to let it end.

“Ok,” you responded. “I’ll stay.”

--------------------------

So this took me days because I wasn’t sure exactly how I was going to get to my end game. I think I have one more chapter in me, but it might be a little steamier. I didn’t have a full plan when I started, so apologies if my continuity is a bit off!

[redhoodieone]

It’s Cold in Here Part 4

A/N: Welcome back everyone! Here is part 4, and I gotta say…this story is DEFINITELY CRAZY and there are so many crazy turns and I know more insane shit is going to happen. There’s obviously going to be smut in part 5, and I’m actually hoping you guys can give me ideas since I want this smut to be a little more different than what I’ve written before. So, any ideas and tips are definitely welcome, and I hope to see some comments soon! 

Taglist: @randomdcfangirl @jms-01 and let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future fics!

Warnings: Language and bad thoughts.

 I forgot how much Bruce goes all out for his parties. He really didn’t hold back; the backyard was designed to be a palace and every area was covered with Hawaiian theme masks and tiki torches. When I follow Artemis and Zatanna into the backyard, I feel as if I’m in another world; a beautiful world that is. Before I knew it, it was already crowded. The barbecue party is already becoming a big social gathering. Artemis and Zatanna must have went to get some food, and I still had my first drink of hard alcohol lemonade. I have yet to see Dick. Tim and Damian were already outside flirting with Zatanna and Jessica. As I turn around, I can already see Artemis making out with Conner by the jacuzzi. I feel like a real loser. “What’s a beautiful girl like you doing all alone with a drink?” Jason. I turn around and there’s Jason, soaking wet in his red swim trunks. The way the water on his body runs down his hard abs and pecs makes a wetness form in my panties. He flexes his biceps when he leans over the table where I’m standing to get a beer. He pushes his dark hair back so he can look at me clearly. “Was that a pickup line?” I ask curiously. “Well...I thought it was,” Jason answers with a chuckle. I look behind him and see Dick, with his perfect body showing off his blue swim trunks, strolling into the backyard with his friends. Roy Harper. Cyborg. Garth and Kaldur. And Wally... Wally struts to the pool proudly. His smile widens when the guys circle around him as they speak by the pool. I can even see the scrawny redhead eyeing Dick. But everyone else, except me, seems oblivious! For some reason, the jealousy seems stronger right now. Just seeing how casual the two are together just shows me they’re full of shit and that they’re fucking each other. They probably fucked before coming to this party! I realize Jason is still talking, and I haven’t even said a word. “What?” I repeat. “Look, I know just seeing them is hard for you. But you need to relax and remember what we talked about,” Jason says seriously to me. He reaches to grab my arm, and I instantly felt a electric spark between us. “I’m here if you need to talk or stay distracted.” I suddenly become angry. It’s as if the bottle inside me busted open, and everything I’ve ignored or pushed aside comes to light. I lost my boyfriend. My boyfriend rather be with a guy than be with me. My emotions are not easy to ignore. I tear away from his grasp; shocking both of us. “Shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend?! I’m fine! I don’t need any help!” I snap. “Girlfriend? I don’t have a girlfriend,” Jason replies with confusion. His eyebrows raised. “Sure you do! You’re Jason fucking Todd! I heard you’re already in love with someone so just leave me alone!” I yell. “Y/N... W-where did you hear that?” “It doesn’t matter,” I mumble. The pain is too much. I need to let go...if only for a while. I set my beer down and strip down to my swimsuit. The second I feel myself on display, I gain a sense of strength to make myself feel better. I put my clothes on the table next to my phone and tote bag. I immediately notice Jason is staring at me, with wide eyes and his mouth parted. I then drink my beer. I down it to the last drop. And then I do it again. One drink. One shot of fireball. One drink. One shot of vodka. One shot of rum. I’m feeling pretty good. Every time I walk, I feel like I’m floating. Every ounce of pain and betrayal is gone, and instead I’m filled with giggles and warmth. I find myself dancing amongst heroes I couldn’t tell apart, and I’m pretty sure I might have been grinding on Superman for a bit. Artemis and Zatanna finally spot me and come to me. Their faces are filled with shock and disappointment. “Y/N...what are you doing?” Artemis asks slowly. “Dancing!” I answer in a hiccup. “I-I didn’t know I liked to dance! What else have I been hiding from myself?” “You’re drunk. I think you need to stop before you get sick or hurt yourself,” Zatanna says with concern. “N-no! I want to have fun! I’m tired of feeling worthless and like shit. You-you guys don’t know what I’m going through! So just leave me alone!” I shout. “We didn’t know you were feeling like that...” Artemis says softly, feeling guilty that I was alone for most of the night. “Please tell us what’s going on. I want to help you, Y/N.” “It’s too late. I’m fucking damaged...” I mumble. My eyes locate Dick coming over to me. Finally, after not speaking to me for most of the party, I’m obviously stupid enough to believe he’s putting on a show. “Hey sweetheart! I’ve been looking all over for you,” Dick says, smiling and hugging me with a kiss to my lips. I feel disgusted, but the kiss is powerful enough to make me want him more. “I was just catching up with some old friends. Hey Artemis. Hey Zatanna.” My friends say hi back to Dick, but everyone around us is watching us now. “Really? I saw YOU earlier. But I guess you rather hang out with guys instead of me,” I say, completely aware my anger isn’t hiding. “Your BEAUTIFUL GIRLFRIEND!” “That’s not true. Come here.” Dick wraps his arms around me and kisses me again. Despite being drunk, the kiss doesn’t feel as good as it should. I can tell he isn’t into it. There’s no spark. No fireworks. No heat. When I’m about to pull away, Dick ends up holding my head to make our kiss longer. He’s trying to make it work. He’s trying to be attracted to me. He’s trying to prove to everyone he still loves me. But the lies and secrets are more than enough to prove to me that I’m just being used. I finally pull away. Dick’s eyes widen in confusion, and when I make myself look at him in the eyes, it’s clear whatever I’m feeling for him is already destroyed. “I know about your secret. I know you are with Wally. I saw you fucking him,” I whisper, because some part of me doesn’t want everyone else to know. But I had to come clean; the monster inside of me wants to hurt him in every way he’s hurt me. “So what? He’s better in bed than me, Dick? It’s obviously cause I’m not a guy and I don’t have a cock. But I didn’t think my pussy was so bad!” “Y/N, I can explain everything. It’s not that I’m not attracted to you-” “But what I don’t want is to pretend to be your girlfriend. I shouldn’t have to be used to cover your disgusting secret. But you know what, Dick? I deserve better, and now that I can see that, I’ll get what I deserve now.” It’s like the life is drained from Dick’s face. Horror and guilt are clearly written all over him. “Y/N...I’m-I’m so sorry. I-I shouldn’t have done that. I should have just told you-” “I don’t want to hear your excuses. Now if you’ll excuse my drunk ass, I got shit to do now,” I interrupt, and as I try to walk away, Dick stops me. Wally is watching us more closely now. “Y/N. Please don’t leave me. I-I can’t be alone. I don’t want anyone else to know please,” Dick pleads desperately. Even though the music is loud, and our friends are around, he knows he must do something to not give us any more attention. “Okay, I know I fucked up. I guess to make things fair, why don’t you...go fuck someone else? I won’t be mad. I won’t get jealous.” “Y-you want me to go get fucked by some other guy?” I ask. My words are slurred but I understand what he’s saying. “Yes. Just please go do it somewhere else so no one knows. No one can know about it, Y/N. I’ll tell everyone you’re tired and need to go to sleep,” Dick insists. “Just please don’t break up with me right now and don’t tell anyone about this, okay?” I hiccup. For the first time in my life, I’ve never been given permission to cheat. But considering our situation, I see Dick clearly doesn’t want to break up. And I’m horny and heartbroken as fuck. “Fine, I guess I’ll head up to my old bedroom here,” I say, suddenly feeling more lightheaded. “Okay,” Dick whispers, and holds me again. He kisses me, and I know he wants me to kiss him back. “I love you, Y/N.” I have to say it back or it’ll break Dick’s heart, and everyone will suspect something. “I love you too.” Dick grins as if his world lit up. He walks me into the house and up to my bedroom. I’m then changed into a pair of my pajama shorts and white tank top, as he helps me into bed. “Sober up, and see who you want to fuck tonight,” Dick says, as he places a water bottle on my nightstand. “Just be sure it’s someone you really want, okay?” I want to tell him to fuck off. I want to tell him to go suck Wally’s cock and to leave me alone. But the feeling of being protective over him still exists. Dick kisses my forehead and leaves. It must take me about a couple of hours to sober up; between little naps and puking in the bathroom. I do clean myself up and climb back into bed. Because my pussy is wetter than before. The image of Jason in his swim trunks with his wet body does wonders for me. I quickly grab my cell phone that Dick brought up with my tote bag. I find Jason’s number and I do what any other horny girl would do:

I tell Jason Todd I need him to fuck me now.

[emotionalcello-makefanfics]

Away From Here (Jaydick Fic for Fictober)

Prompt number: 2. “Just follow me, I know the area.”

Fandom : DCU

Rating: General Audience

Warnings/Tags: Major Character Death/ Non-canon compliant.

Summary : Jason dreamed that he became a killer. A man wearing a Red Helmet with guns on his hands and bodies on his feet. He waited a moment to wake up. What came instead is an 8-year-old Dick Grayson in his Robin uniform. “What do you want? Why are you showing me this dream.” “I told you, this is your future, and I’m here to save you from it. I’ll take you to a place safe from your future.”

Word count : 5k

Click link to read on AO3

Click keep reading to read on tumblr~

In his hands are smoking guns. Around him are the walls of abandoned skyscrapers he had known as his home. On his feet, is a puddle of blood flooding from the man filled with holes that lay limp in front of him. That person is not the only one bleeding, there are a lot more around him, by the roof. Some with heads snapped way to the back, holes on their face, and the only one here that could’ve done it is Jason himself.

He lets go of the guns from his trembling hands. He knows this place like the back of his hand, but suddenly, he has nowhere to run. His feet won't let him get away.

When he finally gains his senses, his instinct brings him home. The manor never felt like home, but Dick made it feel like it does.

The world feels uncanny and off-putting. Reality doesn’t feel solid, but Jason disregards it. He just wants to go home to the people that take him in.

When he does, he finds Alfred the butler that’s been the most present, looking at him with distaste then looks away. Jason felt a sharp pain in his heart, accompanied by sizzling anger, but what he wanted the most is an explanation. He doesn’t get that as his feet bring him down the hall against his will.

The hallways lead to the library where he often spends his days, then he turns the grandfather clock to open the path to the Batcave. There, Batman, even with his mask off, there’s no Bruce in that cave, only Batman. Even so, his adopted father always cares for him. Despite being his soldier, Jason is still his son. Batman looks at him, he doesn’t even look away, his furious furrowed eyes pierce through him like he had committed the greatest sin.

“I know what you did,” his adopted father growled.

On the multiple screens of the Batcomputer are someone in body armor, cargo pants, and a leather jacket. On his chest is a bat symbol painted in red. It’s a costume he has never seen before and his face is covered with a red helmet, but Jason knows that person is him. Clips of him murdering people with guns he promised he’ll never touch, snapping people’s necks, stomping them to the ground played again and again. Jason would never do that, but the feeling in his gut forced him to believe otherwise.

Again, without his permission, his body starts to move. His feet walk down the familiar hallways and sets of stairs until he finally faces Dick’s room. He knocks before he lets himself in. Dick in a tight brand-new Nightwing suit he has never seen before. Slick body-con black suit, enforced but not disrupting his beautiful form and the stark bright blue bat symbol on his chest and strips down his arms. A complete upgrade from the flashy discowing suit.

One thing that doesn’t change, is the throb in his heart whenever he sees Dick. Even when the one that’s been showing him compassion since he was adopted, is looking at him as the lowest scum of the earth.

His domino mask on hand, showing the hatred in his bright saturated blues.

“You’re a monster,” Dick spat, the coldness of his voice froze Jason on the spot.

“We should’ve let you die on the streets,” Dick approaches, and suddenly Jason feels small despite the line of his eyesight in this body is above Dick. “If I had known you’d betray me, I wouldn’t have taken you in.”

Jason screams but his mouth doesn’t move. In his forced silence in this weird world, he has no control in where he is or what he has done to deserve being abandoned again.

He tried so hard to be the soldier Batman needs, to be considerate for Alfred, and live up to Dick’s legacy as taking the Robin mantle. Did he fail again?

It wasn’t him that kill all those people. The gun was in his hand when he wakes up but Jason didn’t pull the trigger.

This must be a dream, he refuses it to be anything but.

As he thought so, he’s taken to another building with a blink of an eye. The first thing he noticed first is his bloody fist, and when the world becomes clear, he sees another body on his feet. It’s the only body laying on the floor, not one of those goons in black.

For the horrible sickening feeling of disgust at the back of his throat, his heart is oddly calm when he sees himself there. A bloody Robin that’s been beaten to death. The swollen face and busted lips bring back bad memories. He kneels down with his grown-up body, again without his consent, and takes off Robin’s domino mask. It’s not him.

His heart pounds a million beats per minute, and when he finally regains control of his body, the shock drops his body to the floor

“No,” he whispered his first word ever since entering this dream. Eyes gawking, horrified at the child in front of him.

“This isn’t a dream,” Whispered a voice he recognized. Another child appeared beside him, wearing the first Robin uniform with those scaly green boyshorts.

Little 8-year-old Dick Grayson kneels beside him with his little palms on Jason’s shoulder that looks even bigger now. How did he get so big? And how did Dick get so small? Guess, in a dream, everything is possible.

“But it isn’t Jay,” Says the first Robin, putting his gloved hands on each of Jason’s cheek, cradling his face gentler than one would a baby. Despite the bizarre things presented in front of him, he feels calm at Dick’s presence.

“Then what is this?” Jason decides to play along.

“This is your future,” Dick waves his hand behind him and in front of Jason, formed a mirror.

He looked at himself, and he looked like him from the clips on Batcomputer, but now he’s wearing a Robin costume, different from the one used by the boy that he presumed dead. His face grows large, more square and elongated than the last time he sees himself. He looks old, an adult. Like a mad man with the blood all over his face. Like his mother, with the bruises all over his face.

“His name is Tim, Tim Drake. In the near future, you’ll be replaced by him.” Dick lay his face on top of his head and his hand on the side of his face.

Both of them are looking at the mirror. The far difference of age in their look doesn’t feel real.

Then he looks away from the mirror, to where the boy named Tim still lay with lifeless eyes opened and staring at Jason.

“No, they wouldn’t do that to me, they wouldn’t abandon me, and you told me you won’t ever hate me, you told me that’s impossible,” Jason croaked to the little Robin beside him.

“Oh, sweet boy,” Dick tips his jaw with those little fingers, now that he thinks about it, it’s damning how little he was when he became a soldier. “I’m not Dick, your mind sees me as him because you trust him.”

“What do you want? Why are you showing me this dream.”

“I told you, this is your future, and I’m here to save you from it. I’ll take you to a place safe from your future.”

“A safe place? Where?”

“Somewhere far away, where you’ll always be young, where you’ll always be happy. To a land far away from this.” His voice soft and kind as he can be, so flattering as his voice have emotion too mature for his age.

“No... there’s no such place, you’re just an imagination. I’ll wake up soon, and I’ll forget you.”

“I am as real as you, and you’ll never forget me, I promise you.” It hurts how earnest Dick’s cute little face begged in agony, “Please, I’m trying to save you.”

“I don’t need saving!” Jason roared, and only now he hears himself with such a deep voice like Bruce’s. He shoves Dick away and stands up on his feet, towering above the dead Robin and Dick, “I’m Robin!”

“And Tim Drake knew that,” Dick adds eerily calm. “Find him, and you’ll know what I say is the truth,” Dick approaches with solemn eyes and a grimly pursed lips. “Call for me when you changed your mind, I’ll come to save you.”

“But, I don’t know who you are.”

Dick jumps up and loops his arms around Jason’s neck. The first affection he received in this odd dream.

Then Jason wakes up in his bed.

 ++++

 He couldn’t tell his dreams to anyone, not even to Dick who senses that Jason is holding back something. The cursed dream where little Robin appeared sticks in his head for the whole year. One day he just breaks and looks for this Tim Drake.

He doesn’t need to look up to Tim Drake, everyone in the city knew the multi-millionaire Drake family and their darling young and only son. He doesn’t even need to come to his house, because the kid appeared in between dark alleyways when Jason was patrolling.

He lands right behind Tim who jolts rigidly as his wide blue eyes twinkle.

“Robin! I-I-I-I-I was just...” he looks down to his camera and holds it tightly.

Of course Jason is angry. Why would Tim Drake go out in the night with cameras out if not for the intention to jeopardize their identity? But seeing his batman backpack, and Robin shoes says that his intention is otherwise. That and how small and so young Tim is, he couldn’t be older than 9. He wondered when –if his dream is real– that Tim replaced him.

No, no way. It’s just a dream. A stupid dream.

“You know who I am, don’t you Tim Drake?”

The child clutches his camera closer to his chest, looking down at his red, yellow and green shoes.

“I do,” He admits.

For now, Jason just smiled, “A little genius aren’t you?” He put his hands on top of Tim’s rubbing gently and messing up Tim’s hair. “Don’t go out too often alright? It’s dangerous out here. Promise me.”

“O-Okay, I’ll go out less,” Tim says with a cute furious blush.

Just to coax Tim more, Jason takes a selfie with Tim and promised to visit him in his room if Tim goes out less. The kid is cute, almost pure, it’s hard to imagine someone like Tim to be a Robin. That just adds another proof that it’s just a dream.

With a big smile and enthusiastic wave, they parted ways.

Jason goes back to Dick’s place that night. Wearing Dick’s hoodie that’s too big for him and training pants that need to be rolled 4 times to not make him stumble.

“You’re gonna tell me what’s this about?” Dick puts down a cup of chamomile tea on the coffee table in front of Jason.

“You’re not gonna believe me,” he turned himself into a ball and shrinks even deeper to the plump sofa.

Dick put his own tea on the table and scoots closer to Jason, “Oh c’mon, I’ve been in space and see the most fucked up shit, try me.”

Jason reasonably hesitated, but Dick’s twinkly eyes and cat-like smile is working too well on him. With a defeated sigh, Jason scoots closer and lands his head on Dick’s shoulder.

“I had a bad dream, it was a year ago but I keep remembering it. Now I confirmed that some pieces of the dream are true.”

“Oh... bad dreams huh,” Dick deflated, putting an arm around Jason’s curled shoulders, “yeah I got them too... Sucks that you already got it.”

“It came with the job huh?”

“Sadly it is, it’s not the safest job. You can still tap out if you want, just be a kid and go to school.”

Jason actually liked the idea, and maybe he’ll avoid the future that comes near him... no way, that was a dream. Maybe Tim’s name in his dream is just a coincidence. A thing of Deja Vu. There’s no way that nightmare is his future. He won’t become that person he looked in the mirror. That’s not him, he won’t beat Tim up, he won't kill people, he won’t betray Dick.

“No, I like kicking ass.”

Dick chuckled, “Okay, just know that the option is there. What did you dream about anyway?”

“Nothing, I think it’s just a Deja Vu thing.”

Jason stayed the night, sleeping with Dick in his cramped single bed.

It’s not the first time Jason slept over at Dick’s but he can never get used to sleeping next to him. His body gets sensitive and over-conscious of the one next to him. At 3 am, he’s still wide awake. Whenever he does, he sits up on the side of the bed and just marvels at Dick’s sleeping face.

It’s like looking at snow white sleeping in a casket of glass, beautiful and out of reach. Even though he’s touching him, there’s an invisible glass that divides them. Dick sleeps deeply and always a tornado of a sleeper, but Jason never complained, because he’ll always get tangled between Dick’s limbs. It helps that Dick is a heavy sleeper and he won’t wake up when Jason snuggles close and steal a big hug.

Dick is in a fetal position, back curling towards where Jason sits. He dared himself to comb back the soft strands of hair from Dick’s beautiful face, sighing dreamily at the sight.

Dick doesn’t hate him, they promised they’ll be there for each other, and Jason meant to carry that promise for the rest of his life. He won't let him down, and he won't let his dream become a reality.

One day, when he’s older, when he can stand up on his own two feet, when he became an adult of a sort, he’ll tell Dick all the things he wanted to say.

Jason cradled the back of Dick’s head and dared himself to kiss the corner of his eyes. He slipped in between Dick’s arms and tuck his head under Dick’s jaw, his own arms wrapped around his built torso. He’s still not sleepy from this closeness, his heart in joyfully dancing. Jason lets it frolic, and enjoy the night awake in Dick’s arms.

 ++++++

 His mother died. His real mother.

What’s left in this musty dim warehouse is him with hands tied tightly on his back and a ticking time bomb sets on top of stacked boxes across the room. He tried the door, but it’s locked from the outside. There are hundreds of ideas in his head on how he escape this situation, but he saw the time on the bomb. Three seconds left, and he just slumped to the floor with the door on his back and close his eyes. Awaiting the explosion to take him.

At least this way, the far future he was shown is wrong. He’ll never be that monster.

“Jason,” Calls a voice of the dream.

Jason cracks his eyes open and sees Dick, grown-up this time with the slick black Nightwing suit with blue streaks on his arms and legs and chest. As much as he wants this to be a reality, it’s not. The clock stops at 00:01. Not only the clock, if he squints, the dust in the air had paused too.

Dick takes off his blue domino mask, looking down from where he’s standing with inhumane crystal blue eyes.

“Come with me Jason,” Dick persuades as he descends to his knees. His striped blue fingers crawl to the knot on Jason’s wrist. With simple touches, Jason’s hands are free.

Dick put his hand on top of Jason’s, now both of them are sitting on the grimy warehouse floor. His eyes won’t let him go, and Jason can’t look away.

“You’re... you’re going to kill me aren’t you?” Jason whispered, the morbid question somehow doesn’t scare him.

“I would never, I just wanted to protect you from your future.”

Jason remembered his dream again, and he started to hate himself, “Or were you trying to protect them from who I’ll become?”

“No, never,” Dick growled, he doesn’t look angry, but his firm voice weighs tons of tension. “There’s a lot of pain in your future, I want to protect you from it.”

Jason looks at the bomb, “But... I’m going to die, there’s no way I’ll grow up.”

Dick shook his head, “Six months after you die, you will be revived, awaken a different man filled with vengeance.”

“Why... why would I want vengeance?”

Dick looks at him solemnly, and looks at the bomb, “You’ll die here,” he says grimly. “Even so, Bruce didn’t avenge you, he let the Joker run free, and then, he’ll replace you with Tim.”

And that’s when Jason wavers. He wants to believe that none of it is real. However, he’s not afraid of the doppelganger in front of him. He might not be Dick, but, Jason clung to him as if he is.

“I don’t want to die,” Jason croaks.

Dick... the fake Dick smiled, “I’m not here to kill you, I’m just taking you away.”

“Where?”

Dick stood up and extend his hand, “Come, I’ll show you.”

It’s not that there’s no sliver of mistrust, but when Jason sees him, he remembers his dream as clearly as it just happened yesterday. His bloody fist, their distasteful faces. It makes his blood runs cold, like a dread burning on his throat, choking the life out of him when he sees what the future foresees him to become.

He takes Dick’s hand, “I’m not coming with you.”

The fake Dick doesn’t express any anomaly, but he paused, “Why?”

“Whatever I’ll do wrong, I’ll say I’m sorry. Wherever you’re taking me, I don’t want to be in a world where there’s no him.”

“What if they’ll never forgive you?”

The possibility drops a ton of weight on his heart. Even so, he eyes this being in front of him, dead on the soul. Even though he’s not sure if his imagination is truly alive and sentient, he can see a person behind those eyes.

“Even you don’t know about that,” Jason answered.

With a stoic face, Dick wraps him in a hug, “As you wish my child.”

Jason closed his eyes, and the light burns behind his eyelids. He only heard the explosion for a split second, and he didn’t even feel pain when he passes.

 ++++++

 Jason returned from the grave without a soul. The pit heals him wrong, and a few pieces of memory are lost with his sanity.

It all came back when his rage is at his peak and he goes head to head with Tim, his replacement.

Among the hits they landed on each other’s faces, one breaks the cage that keeps his memory suppressed

In a blink of an eye, a memory worth years pours into his conscious. In that one second of distraction, the new Robin’s incoming bo staff heading towards his head slowly. The bo arched by the sheer speed and strength that his replacement –that little Tim he met then– is putting.

It’s coming closer slowly, and Jason can dodge that easily. He doesn’t though.

Fighting with an intent to kill made this teenager opponent do the same. The hit on his head rings loudly and the tump of the metal bo against his skull made a loud and silencing thud. The hit threw him sideways just by the pillar, and he fell to the awaiting 20-meter drop.

A drop that never came.

In the next blink, Jason is already on the ground in the arms Dick in his BPD uniform. He saw him in this uniform A few months ago when he researched him. The job suits him. Though he knows this Dick isn’t real. Through the years of research, he knows who this person is now.

“I’m not a child anymore, you couldn’t save me,” Jason groaned. His head and body limp when Tim hits the balance and motoric function out of him. His vision grows sharp, and now he can see the new Robin jumping off the pillar with a retracting gun shooting forward, trying to catch Jason in mid-air.

The entity smiles and emits white light. It blinds him for a few seconds, but when it finally cleared, a beautiful woman with pale skin and white hair covered in veil takes over Dick’s form.

“Where did you take them?” Jason asked about the children.

“A better place than their future,” the woman’s voice sounds light and compassionate, it warms him wholly, almost having a lethargic effect on Jason.

“But you don’t know one’s future... just now, it’s supposed to be Tim in this floor bleeding, but it’s me this time. I can... I can change my future.”

The shining woman express no emotions, but the way she caresses Jason’s face says the opposite.

“I’m sorry my child, I failed to protect you.” She pressed her forehead on top of Jason’s, veiling him in her veil as well.

“I don’t... need protecting... I don’t need saving.”

“I’m not here to save you, I’m here to see you off.”

“What?”

“You’ve died before you hit the ground.”

“No... how do I... It’s just a hit in the head.”

“Too strong to a place it shouldn’t have.”

Jason stares blankly to the woman’s pale blue eyes. Her lips –that are almost as white as her skin– curled slightly downwards. For that moment in her arms, Jason can’t feel angry or regretful. He planned so many things ahead, his revenge, the Joker, his father, he wanted answers from his father. Even though he couldn’t get them now, all he feels now is relieve. The future he remembered had haunted him, and now he’s going to be freed from it.

Only one face that stops him though. The nights he spent with Dick, his sleeping face as Jason quietly stares.

A tear fall to his side as he looks up to where Tim is still falling slowly.

“Shall we go now, Jason?” she softly thread her voice.

“Can I... can I have a few seconds? Please, I need to say something to Tim,” Jason’s voice level and serene.

“Yes you may, it’s the last thing I could do to atone my failure,” her glowing hands gently pressed on top of Jason’s chest.

When Jason blinks again, his head is on the floor and Tim is checking his pulse with shaking hands. As Jason takes off his mask, Tim jolts, but relieved.

“Oh... oh thank god you’re alive, I didn’t mean to... you’re supposed to dodge and I would’ve-”

“Tim listen, I don’t have much time,” Jason blinks a couple of times, and he can see clearly the destruction they’ve created. The third Robin takes off his mask too, and his blue eyes are on the brink of tears. For a moment, Jason can see the tiny baby Tim, just being a fan, now basked in blood and bruises.

“This isn’t your fault... I’m sorry.”

“Wha- that... did I hit your head too hard?” Tim chuckled, though the morbid fear still clear on his face.

“Yeah, you’re a good fighter kid, you fit Robin just fine,” Jason lightly punches Tim on the shoulder. “You always have gut since you were a kid, you’re gonna make a great Robin.”

“You... you remembered me.”

“Of course I do,” Jason sees her behind Tim and smiled. “Tell Dick that I...” the words stuck behind his throat, weighed down by his heavy heart.

Oh, he can’t meet Dick anymore. He’ll never see him again.

His mind travels back when he was still a small tween. Making excuses to sleepover at Dick’s, slipping a hug when he’s asleep. The nights he spent watching him close, too high-strung to sleep just because they’re touching each other. The days when Dick’s offline is agony, and he remembers counting days until his 17th birthday to finally able to approach him.

He promised himself that he’ll tell Dick what he felt when he grows up, it seems that the only one he disappoints is himself.

“You can tell him himself,” Tim breathed, “Stop making that face, why are you saying these things?” his relieve turns into fear.

A hand landed on top of Tim’s and when he looks up, Jason knows Tim can see her too.

“You...” Tim breathed, eyes wide and lips hang in disbelieve, “I thought you were just a myth.”

She smiled as her slender glowing fingers caress along Tim’s jaw, “There’s going to be a lot of hardship in front of you, but your soul is pure and your future is bright, you’re going to be just fine.”

Jason is clutching her hands, and he sees body on the floor, no longer breathing. His line of eyesight is shorter, and the woman seems a lot taller, just like how he used to look up to Dick when he was little.

Tim jumped into a fighting stance, wary of the glowing being and him.

The being looks down towards him and smile, a sign. As she walks, Jason feels calm when he’s pulled to where she’s heading.

“You can’t take him!” Tim shrieked but they didn’t stop. “Jason! You haven’t told me what to tell Dick yet.”

Jason stops, so does her. There’s a heavy lump in his soul, and she looks at him, smiling and nodding in comprehension.

“It’s okay Tim, I’ll tell him myself.” He looks back, passing Tim a bright smile, “Don’t forget what I told you!”

Then Jason disappears.

 +++

 Chills run down his spine as the wind blows. He shouldn’t be able to feel those wind through his secure Nightwing suit.

He looks back to where the wind that brushed against his soul. The feeling in his heart makes him look up to the dark starless sky and found nothing. In that rooftop where he stood and searched for trouble, he spun around to where this feeling comes from.

At last, a boy materialized at the corner of the roof. He couldn’t believe his eyes. For a moment he thought he was under an influence, but there’s this serenity deep in his soul that called to the boy as someone dear.

Without his domino mask, the second Robin –Jason– is smiling with that toothy smile. A pinch twinged his heart, seeing Jason so small and in his old Robin suit. Boyish and innocent, his brother. For a solid second, he thought he was dreaming. But the reality is still intact and there’s his Jason, running towards him.

Dick catches him in mid-air, hugging him tightly. The warmth pressed against him, the small pair of arms that loops around his shoulder are squeezing tears from his eyes. The feeling of this contact hits too deep inside his broken heart. Too familiar to the days when he takes Jason in, when Dick has an adoring brother, before Jason died.

“How?” Dick croaks into Jason’s tiny shoulder. Detaching his arms from Jason’s back, the boy landed on the ground below, looking up with bright blue eyes filled with admiration and love, like he always does.

Jason tiptoed up to comb his bangs to the back of his ear, just like the nights he did when he thought Dick was asleep. Jason seems speechless as if overwhelmed, and his eyes brimming with tears.

“Without you, I would’ve lived without knowing what it felt like to have a family, to feel loved. So, thank you, for taking me in, for being there for me,” a tear falls down his rosy cheek, “I just wished I had enough time to return it to you.”

Dick feels his heart just sank into the abyss, he hates what Jason is implying.

“Jason, you... still can. You’re back right? You’re alive, you’re Red Hood... I don’t know what this is, but...” his words trail out to nothing when Jason shakes his head.

Jason wraps Dick in a hug, small but strong arms wrapped around his waist, “Goodbye, Dickie.”

A whine caught behind his throat, choking him out, and the pain in his heart feels physical. He wonders why he accepts this as it is, but somehow, he just knows.

Dick wraps his arms around Jason’s shoulder. With a hand on the back of his head, Dick pulls Jason closer and bury his face on top of his nest of hair. Inhaling the familiar scent, Dick’s tears fall on the blades of black and sobs.

“I love you, Jason.”

His little brother steps back, eyes wide as his expression broke. Something in his eyes that says something to him, something that Dick couldn’t point out, something that Jason won’t say.

“I love you too, Dick” Jason cried, grasping Dick’s hand tightly before finally letting go.

Dick tried to hold on to him, but he just slips through his hand. Just before he goes fully transparent, he sees a woman in the direction Jason is running.

It was only a glimpse, but Dick knows who she is, the savior of the tortured children. A lost soul of a woman that haunts the living and ‘saving’ children from their suffering. She takes the children’s soul and left their body in a state of comatose.

And she reaps the lives of adult grown up from the children she failed to save, giving them death without pain.

If Jason chose to go with her when he was young, he wouldn’t have died so horribly.

But he did anyway.

Dick just hoped Jason knew that he’s glad Jason chose to stay longer. Long enough for Dick to have these precious memories to live with now that he’s inevitably gone from the world.

[edyacouky]

Stressful Week (2/?)

Hi, I wanted to write a next part to my idea of Anxious/Alpha!Jason.

I needed a break for Journey to the Past. I want each of the chapter have more or less 5,000words and it can be tiresome ...

Anyway, no promise for this fic but I have other idea so it should have another part.

Enjoy this one.

Can be read on AO3

Can be read on Tumblr : Prev - Next

                                                   ~*~

After deliberation about where Jason should sleep in the Manor, finally Jason went sleep in his old room. Bruce and Alfred were hoping that the familiarity of old scent will help him calm himself.

Unfortunately, Jason couldn’t sleep at all. He is too scared. Every time he tries to close his eyes, he thought about them dying in horrible ways.

He has to go to each room to check that they are safe and sound.

The first time, his family was annoyed to be suddenly wake up but understand that Jason can’t help himself but the fourth time they all lose patience.

“I swear to God Todd!” Damian yells when he heard again the same wood board cracks

Even Cass looks exasperated at Jason.

“Jason, go to sleep. Dick almost pleads

-I didn’t mean to … Jason tries to defend himself but all their angers start panics him

-Enough.” Bruce says with his leader pack’s voice

Jason bare his neck without even hesitate. He didn’t do that since he was still a very young child. Everyone realizes how far Jason’s mind goes. They are still irritated to be wake up every two minutes but they force their scent to be as calming as they can so Jason could feel better.

Bruce sights.

“Everyone take his sheet. We’re going to sleep on the living room tonight.

-I’m sorry. Jason mumbles still baring his neck while his siblings take their sheet

-That’s ok. Bruce tells him before hugging him. We understand. None of that is your fault.

-I’m sorry.

-Don’t be Littlewing. Dick says putting his hand on Jason’s back. Honestly you’re not worse than Bruce when he is empoisoned by fear gaz.”

That remark puts a small smile on Jason’s face.

The couch in the living room could be a bed huge enough so everyone could sleep together. Even Alfred did escape Jason’s anxiety and have to leave his own room.

“Where are the dogs? Jason suddenly asks when Bruce tried to make him lay down

-What? They sleep near the kitchen like always.

-They have to sleep with us too. Jason decides

-It’s that necessary? Alfred asks not wanting imagine how the sheet will end with the dogs on it

-They kill the dogs before attack the family. Jason answer

-Who they?

-Pennyworth, it will make Todd better.” Damian intervenes going with Jason to pick Titus and Ace

After some nudges and kicks, everyone settles to finally sleep. Everyone but Jason.

Jason stays sit looking at his family and all the room’s access. Every sound, every branch slapping the window, every shadow put him on edge.

Deep down he knows that he doesn’t have to protect them or provide for their needs. All of them are deadly dangerous and more or less able to take care of themselves. But he is not logical right now and he is so scared.

He is pretty much reassured that his family will be safe and sound tonight, but what about the other?

What about all the innocent from Gotham he have to protect?

What about Kory who is gone somewhere in space doing something potentially deadly?

What about Roy? His friend, his lover. What about this too kind man who could be easily distracted?

What if something terrible happen tonight, something he could have prevented?

He starts crying and crying as silently as he can. His scent reeks already too much, he doesn’t want bother his family more.

Damian’s pets help him a little.

Alfred the Cat purrs next to his legs. Titus puts his enormous head on Jason’s shoulder. Ace keeps licking his face to make him laugh.

Bruce had tried to sleep; he and the rest of the family had hoped that if they act as usual, Jason will understand he has nothing to fear. But obviously it didn’t work.

He forces Ace to calm down and push him a little so he can hug Jason.

He didn’t say anything. There is nothing to say. Jason knows logically that everything is right and he is not to blame. But he can’t be logical right now.

He put Jason’s nose near his scent gland and forces his smell to be as calming as possible.

They stay like that all night.

                                                    ~*~

What wake up the family, after this exhausting night, is a delicious smell.

If that puts one smile on their smile, they lost it as soon as they realize Jason and the pets have disappeared.

“Jason!” They call him

Bad move. He suddenly appears worried and ready to fight any menace.

“Everything is alright?

-Yes. Everything is right. Duke says

-We were just curious about where you were. Dick says

-Oh, I was making breakfast. Jason answers embarrassed

-Breakfast? Alfred frowns. What time is it? Master Jason, don’t tell me you let me oversleep?

-Well … It is my fault if you all needed to sleep so … I didn’t …”

Jason is tired of himself. Will he stutter all week like that? He is almost twenty years old; he is not a little boy anymore.

“It’s ok.” Cass says putting in hand on his chest

Jason looks at the older and smaller beta and smiles at her after taking a deep breathe. He just has seven days to endure, he can do it.

Once everyone is sitting around the table, Jason serves them.

“Jaylad, Bruce says, you can sit. We can serve ourselves.

-That’s ok. I want to do it.”

Jason first serves Bruce, the leader pack, Alfred, the older member of the pack, Damian the youngest, Duke, the youngest omega, Tim, the youngest alpha, Cassandra, the youngest beta, and finally Dick, the oldest beta.

At first Dick was upset, thinking that Jason serves Cass and him last because they are beta. But he remembers one rule Alfred learned him when he was younger.

The more important members of the pack must be serving first, then from the youngest to the oldest. And Bruce and Alfred are the most important no matter their designation. In the same way, Cass and he are the oldest no matter their designation.

Dick is proud of himself that he thinks before say anything to an already troubled Jason.

“What is it? Tim says frowning after taking one slip of his coffee

-It is decaffeinated. Jason answers while finally serve himself

-It’s a joke. Do you want to poison me?

-You don’t need me to be poisoned. Seriously with all the coffee you drink I’m surprised you don’t have an ulcer.

-I need coffee to deal with my day.

-First it is coffee …

-Not real coffee.

-And two, what you need to deal with your day is sleep.

-What? Bruce!”

Bruce wasn’t listening. When he learned that Jason serves Tim decaffeinated coffee, he was looking suspiciously at his own cup.

How ask to his son if he gives him false coffee without trigging him?

“Bruce! Tim says again. Do something! I need real coffee!

-You’re completely addict to caffeine, dude. Duke says raising an eyebrow

-Jason, did you just make decaffeinated?

-Yes, I did. And I throw away all the rest. Jason specify when Bruce starts to stand up

-You’re kidding right?

-You need to stop drinking so much coffee.”

Bruce prefers when Jason is stubborn and not afraid about everything he says to him. But an alpha worried about the health of members of his pack can be pretty obstinate, if not a pain in the ass.

Tim groans and says he will drink coffee on his way, but before he can leave the table Jason forces him to stay sit.

Everyone was so surprised by the strength used by Jason, that even Tim didn’t know what to do.

“Jason! Bruce yells

-You have to eat. Jason says to Tim like he didn’t hear Bruce

-Jason!

-He has to eat Bruce! Jason tries to defend himself. He is too skinny. I can see his fucking ribs!

-Jason! Look at Tim’s neck.”

Jason does so and he is terrified when he sees the bruise he makes.

“Is that what you wanted to do?

-No! Of course not …”

Things were getting to be fine between them. Never he wanted to hurt him like that.

“I’m sorry, ok! I didn’t mean to … I just want you to eat and I …”

As an alpha too, Tim understands the instinct of provider that Jason can’t control right now.

He does that with his team, his pack, he makes sure that they have everything they need. And sometimes if it misses something, favorite cereal bar of Bart for example, he can panic.

“Jason, if Tim or anyone around his table want to leave, I refuse you force them to stay. I won’t let you use your strength like that on any of your sibling. Do you understand?

-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to …

-I know. Tim says. If I eat half of my plate, we are good?

-Yes please.” Jason begs to Tim

Tim hate eat on the morning, he really prefers a cup of coffee and going where he have to be. But he forces himself and during all the time, Jason watches him nervous.

He really hopes that Jason will chill during this week because it is difficult to endure as it is.

Bruce feels bad to threaten Jason like he did but he doesn’t want any other of his children hurt because he give a pass to Jason due to the fear gas.

Bruce starts to think it would be easier if not as much of people were around Jason while he is like that. Maybe he could think of one way or another to keep them away.

At least Dick is supposed to going back to Bludhaven today.

After the breakfast, the older beta finishes his baggage and frowns when he realizes he doesn’t find his key anymore. After an hour of unsuccessful search, Dick goes see Jason.

Jason is easy to found. After the breakfast, he goes sit on the stair in front the entry.

“Littlewing, I don’t find my key.

-You shouldn’t leave.

-Does that mean you take it? I’m not made, I just want to know.

-You are mad.

-Jason, I have to leave. If you have my key, give it back to me.

-No. You’re safer here.”

Ok, Dick is mad, but it is difficult not to be when Jason doesn’t even look at him. He is focalized on his phone. His thumb above the touch to call Roy.

Without take a moment to think if it was the smartest decision, Dick takes Jason’s phone.

“Hey! Give it back!

-Give me back my key.

-No.

-Masters, Alfred calls for them when he should been bringing the kids to school, what are you doing?

-Dick stole my phone!

-Jason stole my key!

-Master Jason, did you also steal the key of the other vehicles?

-Maybe.”

Dick groans.

“We will not stay here, Jason. We will stay in contact if he can’t help you, but we will not stay here. So give back the key.

-No.

-Jason, give back the key or … or I call Roy.”

Not the best blackmail, but Jason didn’t sleep all night, so he may not see the flaw on Dick’s plan.

“What if he doesn’t answer?” Jason asks truly terrified by that idea

Wait a minute. Did Jason really torture himself for calling Roy because he fear that he doesn’t take his call?

Dick loves all his sibling but they could be tiresome sometimes.

“You know what? I call Roy, then you give back the key.

-No!”

Not even two dial tone later, Roy says:

“Hey Jaybird, I was just thinking about you.”

Even without knowing Roy like Dick does he understand clearly how the omega was thinking of his little brother.

“That’s Dick.

-Grayson, unfortunately, I presume. Roy says his voice less languorous

-The only one.

-What do you use Jaybird’s phone? Is he alright?

-Not at all. He is poisoned with fear gas and his rut prevents the antidote to work.

-Shut up! Jason yells bright red

-How bad is it? Roy asks now worried

-He didn’t sleep last night, he forces Tim to drink decaffeinated and finish his plate and now he hide all the key to prevent us to leave.

-Shut up! Shut up!

-Should I worry? Roy says unsettled

-Boys, Bruce calls them, what’s going on? Alfred? The kids are already at school?

-No, Master Bruce. Master Jason takes away all the key.

-What?”

Before Bruce could ask anything to Jason, the alpha suddenly roars and flies to his room.

They already hear him roar as Red Hood to scare some criminal, but they never hear roar to express his frustration and embarrassment.

“Is that Jaybird I just hear?

-Yeah it was him.

-Can I talk to him?

-Well he just goes to hide in his room so …

-Can you … Is that Bruce here?

-Well, he is just next to me.

-Pass him the phone please.

-Good morning, Roy.”

[aresaphrodites]

i hope i'm not too late for the sentence starters! if i am just ignore this oop. Archison + "Forget it, you're a fucking asshole."

You’re definitely not too late and can I just say THANK YOU FOR SENDING ME THIS. Archison is my freaking LOVE and the fact that it’s nearly nonexistent is so tragic to me. Almost as tragic as them in this little fic, that I hope you enjoy. ;) 

Archie Andrews stares at the couple in front of him, his heart feeling like it’s going to fall out of his chest. He’s never been a jealous guy. He’s never felt any kind of anger towards any of his exes; not even when Veronica broke up with him for his best friend, Reggie. He had just smiled and told her he understood, because he did. He’s nothing if not an understanding and easy going guy. It takes a lot to throw him off and even more to piss him off. Unless your name is Jason Blossom. 

This thing with Jason was supposed to be just that; a thing. It was one of those things where they’d gotten a little too drunk at a party, were way too comfortable around each other, were way too touchy, and somehow it ended up with them shirtless and kissing in Jason’s bedroom. It should have been just that; a drunken kiss between two, otherwise, normally straight dudes. 

Except Archie kissed Jason again and again and again. He kissed him so much that he can remember the feeling of his lips against his own as he lays down for bed. He kissed him so much that when he’d gotten dared to kiss Toni at another party, he’d chugged a bottle of Vodka instead. He kissed him so much that he knows he definitely is not straight anymore. Archie’s kissed Jason Blossom so much that he’s somehow fallen in love with him. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, either. Cheryl and Toni are a couple. Veronica confessed that she’s bisexual and even Betty had admitted that even though she’s very happily taken, she’s always been open to dating anyone. So really, the fact that Archie’s playing at being straight doesn’t really make sense, but he does it for one reason and one reason only. 

‘If my dad finds out I like guys, that’s it.’ Jason’s cheeks are red from the wind blowing harshly against him, but Archie feels like it might also be because he’s nervous. ‘I’m out of the house, I’m out of the family.’ 

‘Cheryl’s a lesbian and he doesn’t seem to care about that.’ It’s petty and childish and Archie’s fully aware that he’s not being fair, but he can’t help it. He’s so tired of having to watch Jason be the stupid playboy that everyone seems to think he is. He’s so tired of having to pretend that they don’t sneak away for hours just to mess around. He’s tired of hiding. 

‘It’s different for Cheryl. She’s the angel of the family, his little girl. She’ll never be able to do wrong in his eyes. I’m his son, the man who has to lead this family one day, who will have to run the Blossom empire. I can’t do that if I like boys.’ The words sting but Archie just clenches his jaw. 

‘You don’t even want the family business!’ Because Jason’s told him that, because they talk in the late hours of the night as they lay down, wrapped up in each other on Archie’s too-small bed. 

‘I can’t like boys,’ Jason says softly like he’s trying to talk Archie off an invisible ledge. ‘Not publicly.’ 

Which is how he ends up a dirty little secret. He’s used to sneaking around. Mr. Lodge hadn’t liked him, so the majority of his relationship with Veronica had been a huge secret, at least from her parents. He sneaks Jason in and out of his house so his dad doesn’t catch them, even though Fred Andrews is well aware of the fact that his son likes boys. He’d given Archie a lovely speech about acceptance and love and the importance of protection “even if neither one of you can actually get pregnant” that Archie tries to forget about. He’s used to sneaking around with Jughead as they pull pranks on their friends and classmates. So yeah, he’s used to sneaking around, but he hates that he has to lie about Jason being his boyfriend. 

That’s what he is, even if he won’t outright say the words. Jason Blossom is his stupid fucking boyfriend and Archie wants to scream it from the top of the highest building in Riverdale, but he can’t. He can’t tell a single soul. 

“You good, man?” Jughead, the wonderful friend that he is, nudges Archie once he realizes that he’s not paying attention to their group of friends and hasn’t been for a while. 

“Yeah,” Archie whispers and then clears his throat, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from Jason and Polly fucking Cooper, of all people. “Yeah, I’m fine.” But he definitely is not fine. 

Jason isn’t actively flirting with Polly, Archie knows that, but the blonde has her arms wrapped around his bicep as she leans her head against his shoulder. They’re playing beer pong and Polly’s watching Jason like he hung the damn moon when all he’s doing is throwing a stupid ball into a stupid cup. Archie doesn’t understand how he’s even doing that with Polly hanging off of him. 

Betty follows where Archie’s eyes had been and rolls hers once she catches sight of them. 

“God, it’s so annoying, isn’t it? Polly hasn’t shut up all week about how Jason asked her out to the movies.” 

Archie’s entire body goes cold at his best friend’s words. He looks at Betty and she just looks annoyed at the news, maybe even a little grossed out, and Archie can relate because he feels like he’s going to throw up. 

“What?” He manages to get out. “When?” 

Betty shrugs. “I think they’re supposed to go this weekend, I don’t know. Why?” 

Why? Because that’s not part of the fucking plan. Archie stays in the closet for his stupid boyfriend and in return, Jason doesn’t have to worry about any rumors over why he spends so much time with Archie Andrews. That’s the plan. He’s not supposed to go on dates with other people. He sure as hell isn’t supposed to go on dates with Polly Cooper, who is the literal embodiment of an angel. She’s gorgeous, smart, funny, kind, a fucking River Vixen, and she’s the exact kind of person that his parents would approve of. The realization hits him in the chest and he suddenly feels like he can’t breathe. His eyesight is going blurry and he blinks a couple of times to try and make the stupid tears go away. 

“Arch?” Betty’s worried voice rings out. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“Archie!” Jughead snaps when he stumbles out of the chair he was sitting in. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” he finally gets out, but his voice is shaky and not at all believable. “It’s just a little loud in here. I’m gonna get some fresh air.” 

“Do you want me to come?” Betty asks, but both her and Jughead stand up. 

“No, no. It’s okay. I’ll be right back.” 

He turns and runs out of the living room before they can try to question him anymore. He doesn’t want to have to answer to them, or even see them, because he knows that he’ll break down and tell them everything. It’s all starting to get to be too much and he doesn’t know how much longer he can do this for. 

He’s counting his breaths to himself as he sits down on the cold grass when he feels someone come up behind him.

“Archie?” 

He closes his eyes at the voice. He loves that voice with everything in him, in a way he’s never loved anyone else’s, but the excitement he usually feels at hearing it is suddenly replaced with an intense kind of hurt that he’s never felt before. He thinks that might be the worst part of all of this. 

“Go away,” he says petulantly.

“Archie, come on.” Jason sounds exasperated, but there’s an edge to his voice like he’s pleading with him. “Don’t be mad at me. Please?” 

He whirls around to look at Jason and it’s not until he’s finally standing up and facing him, that his eyes start to water again. He’s so beautiful and he’s looking at Archie like he’s the most precious thing in his life and maybe Archie would have believed that at one point, but he’s not sure that he does anymore. 

“You asked her out on a date,” he says and he hates how broken he sounds. 

“It’s not like that,” Jason sighs and he even has the audacity to sound annoyed. 

“Then what is it like, Jason? Please, tell me!” His voice is rising now, but he’s so past caring. 

“Lower your voice.” Apparently Jason is not. 

“How would you feel if you saw me flirting with Veronica right in front of you?” Jason frowns and takes a step back as if the idea of it is too much. “Or what if I asked Kevin out on a date?” 

Jason goes pale, which is funny because he’s already so fucking pale against the moonlight. Archie would laugh if any of this was even remotely funny. 

“You wouldn’t,” he says, but it sounds more like a broken plea. 

“Of course I wouldn’t!” Archie yells, because he doesn’t care. They’re alone outside and the music is so loud in the house that there’s no way anyone can hear them. “Because I love you!” Jason recoils at the confession and Archie smiles sadly. “I’m in love with you, so of course I would never do that.” 

“Archie…” Jason’s looking at him like maybe he can give him the answers to all of this. “Archie, I…” 

“Forget it,” he says, voice resigned. “You’re a fucking asshole, Jason. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend to be just your friend while you go and ask another girl out on a date. I can’t.” 

“What do you mean?” Jason asks, voice coming out slightly hysterical. “Hey, hey!” He reaches out to grab Archie’s hand as the other boy tries to leave. His eyes are wild as they search Archie’s face. “You can’t… you can’t be done, Arch. Please, I just… I need time.” 

“I can give you time. I can give you all the time in the world, but I can’t sit by and watch you flirt with other people and date them too. I won’t do that, Jason. I’m sorry.” And he is. He’s so sorry. 

“Please,” Jason begs. “I can’t lose you, Archie.” 

“But I’m just supposed to lose you, right?” Archie pulls his hand out of Jason’s gently. He’s not mad. He’s just… he’s tired. “I’ve always been yours, Jason. But you were never really mine.” 

A tear falls from Jason’s eye and he opens his mouth to say something, but Archie doesn’t hear him. He’s already halfway gone. 

send me a sentence starter + a prompt 

[glamoursarusrex]

Mama Dick feat. Titans: Red Hood and the Outlaws Jr.

Grab your popcorn, Kids! It’s another longun’. Thank you to @raventrigonsdaughter for the prompt of “To be clear, I wasn’t the one who thought this would be a good idea”. Focusing on the escapades of Gar, Raven, and Jason if left to their own devices. If you want anymore stories surrounding the Titan’s family, feel free to fill up my asks! Without further ado, enjoy this fic!

“Dude, you sure this is a good idea?” Gar asks his companions as they creep along the roof of a warehouse. The building overlooks Gotham Harbour. Raven, Jason, and Gar stick to the shadows as they make their way across the roof.

“Gar, this thing’ll work like clockwork. We steal a fuck ton of drugs. Send them into the river. Lose Black Mask about half a million dollars worth of product and boom! Get back home before anyone misses us!” Jason explained.

They find the roof entrance and crouch by it as Jason works on the lock.

“Rae, you’re alright with this?” Gar questions.

“I find it all rather thrilling.” Rachel says with a ghost of a smile on her lips.

“Won’t Kori and Dick get mad at us that we snuck out?”

Jason scoffs, “furious. Beasty, if you’re really so worried that our moms are gonna rain hell on us, you can just head back. I really only need the witch. You’re just the third wheel.”

Gar stumbles, “I-I’m not scared! I just… wanted to know the logistics is all.”

Raven laughs, “Liar, you’re pent up with nerves.”

“No one asked you, Birdie!” Gar exclaims.

The roof door clicks. It opens slightly. Jason pumps up his fist beaming. He puts his fingers to his lips and whispers, “From here on, it’s quiet. We’re just flies on the wall.”

In response Gar turns into a fly. Raven rolls her eyes. Jason chuckles and whispers, “See, he gets it!”

The teens slink into the building. Raven covers herself and Jason with a layer of shadow. Gar flies behind them. They slowly tiptoe down a couple flights of metal stairs before they reach a catwalk running over the main warehouse floor. The find some large pipes running through the grated floor and hide behind there as they watch the scene below them.

On the ground is a table with road maps and notes strewn all over it. In the center is duffle bag stuffed with benjamins. At the head of the table is a burly man in an italian suit and wearing a gold necklace and several gold rings. There are about six other men standing around the table wearing black hoodies or faded leather jackets.

“Those guys look like they can beat our ass to next Tuesday.” Raven comments.

“Well it’s a good thing they aren’t our targets,” Jason states. He points to the far end of the warehouse where a pile of boxes and two semis are stationed. The semis are being guarded by burly men with machine guns. “Those are.” he finishes.

“Dudes, those guys have big guns!” Gar exclaims.

Jason rolls his eyes, “You truly are Dick Grayson’s protege.”

Gar ignores that comment, “So how are we supposed to get past them?”

“We can’t. So we’re just gonna have to make them move. Which’ll be your job, milady.” Jason says looking pointedly at Raven.

A smile tugs at Raven’s mouth. “I think I have a couple tricks up my sleeve!” She declares pridefully. She turns to Gar. “Watch my back, okay?”

Gar salutes with one of his fly legs, “Ya got it , Rae!”

She turns to Jason, “wait for my signal!”

The boy mockingly pouts, “What? No goodbye kiss?”

Raven blushes, “Maybe later.” She nods towards Gar. “When Lord of the Flies isn’t bugging us.”

“Hey, Nivana! Puns are my trademark!” Gar exclaims.

“Please. They’re more like rip offs!” Jason scoffs.

He turns and sneaks along the catwalk towards the cargo. The other two teens study the conversation below.

“My boys on crime alley are pulling double the weight to satisfy everyone else’s lack of sell. I should be getting double the cut!” One of the men at the table exclaims. This earns a barrage of protests from rest of the table. The man in the Italian suit, their leader, shoots his pistol in the air to call order.

“I hear your complaints, Markov,” he says in false sympathy. “Unfortunately, Black Mask doesn’t give two shits about who pulls the larger load. All he cares is that the job gets done. You’re lucky enough to have your share to begin with.”

This starts another string of protests. Gar turns to Raven, “So what’s the plan?”

“There’s this mind control ability I’ve been wanting to try out.” Raven explains.

“You mean you’ve never done it before?”

“Not to this scale. But I was able to mind control the server at Big Belly Burger into giving me a second helping of fries.”

“Careful! We gotta a badass over here!” Gar mocks.

“Can it, grass stain!” Ravens eyes glow as she concentrates on one of the men at the table. His eyes glow slightly. It calms to a purple iris before any of the other men could notice. Raven smiles. “Let the puppet show begin!”

The men continue to shout and throw insults at each other. One of the men calmly starts counting, “five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. One, two…”

He continues counting until the guy next to him catches on, “Floydd, what the hell are you doing?”

Floydd looks to the man blankly. “What?” He asks in a distant voice.

“Why are you counting?”

Floydd smiles goofily, “Oh! My therapist told me if I’m ever under too much stress and feel like lashing out, I should breathe and count.”

The men at the table look to him in confusion. He continues, “I’ve also taken up yoga, thai chi, and therapeutic grass dancing.”

“Grass dancing?” Markov asks.

“Yes! It’s cleansing for the soul. You, my friend, could use at least ten sessions. If you want, I have a blog that explains everything.”

“Grass dancing?” Gar asked.

Raven chuckles, “I have no clue what that is. I just pulled it out of my ass.”

The leader glares at Floydd. “Is this some kind of joke?”

Gar gasps and quickly whispers in Raven’s ear. She giggles.

Floydd giggles, “No, but your fashion sense is.”

The leader looks down at his expensive suit. He looks up to Floydd and growls, “Are you looking to be taken out?”

Floydd shrugs, “I’m more into girls myself but if you wanna…”

A couple of the men at the table try to suppress their laughter. Their leader fumes and cracks his fists when Markov interrupts. “Dude, what happened to your eyes?” Markov asks, squinting. “Are they purple?”

Gar whispers in Ravens ear and she nods quickly.

“Yes!” Floydd states with a melodramatic flair. “I got them from my mother’s side. But she is an honorable and strong woman. I am proud of her!”

Floydd straightens up. “But you? Your families are shit!”

He points to Markov, “Your father’s a Nazi!”

He points to the Leader, “Your sister’s loose!”

He finally points to the largest man at the table, “Your grandmother’s quiche is second rate!”

The man starts forward with fury blazing in his eyes. “You’ll pay for your words Floydd!”

Floydd backs away with his hands in a surrender position. “Okay. Okay. Maybe I went too far. Sorry!” He says smiling and shrugging. As the group continues inch towards him threateningly, he throws his hands up in exasperation. “Fine!” He pulls out his gun and fires it into the air. “Come at me, bitches!” he screams.

Raven severs her connection with Floydd as chaos erupts below. Fists are flying between the table men. As she hoped the gun men leave their positions from around the semis to help their respective bosses.

She felt a twinge of guilt when she heard Floydd screaming in confusion as everyone ganged up on him. The one solace is that he is known to peddle to kids and murder his underage sellers if they didn’t meet his quota. So, in a word, he got what was coming to him.

Raven sees the familiar shape of a teenage boy flip down the rafters and land behind one of the trucks. She turns to Gar. “Take the money and meet us at the rendezvous!” She teleports away.

Gar morphs into a large Hawk and exclaims, “Yes ma’am!” He swoops towards the duffle bag.

Jason peeks into the back of the truck. His shouts of happiness are drowned out by the shouts and the firing of guns. The back was filled to the brim with cocaine. Soon, it was all going to be at the bottom of Gotham River. He climbs the back and quickly pulls the door down.

He races to the front. He climbs into the driver seat and begins hot wiring. He had to work quickly. It’s only a matter of time before the drug posse found them out.

As if on cue, someone shouts, “That green eagle’s taking our dough!”

“I’m a hawk, dumbass! Basic biology!”

Jason looks up and sees a familiar green hawk circle around the men carrying a black bag in his talons. The hawk heads towards the entrance the kids snuck in from. Jason beams at his stupid friend. He looks across and his smile goes away as one of the men looks directly at him.

“Hey! Who the hell’s guarding the trucks?” the man shouts.

“Shit!” Jason exclaimed. He successfully turned on the vehicle. To his dismay, the side view mirrors reveal that the bay doors behind him are closed. Great! Now he’s caught between a wall and a bunch of Schwartzeneggar stunt doubles with assault rifles. “Please! I need an angel!” He cries.

Suddenly, Raven falls from a portal and lands in a crouch on the hood of the car. She sends a wall of shadow towards the men knocking them off their feet. She then places a glowing hand on the car. Jason felt like he was going through a flash freezer. Just as soon as the feeling was there, it was gone. He could see a row of warehouses outside of his windshield.

Raven falls forward with fatigue. She pants heavily. She hears the truck horn and looks in at Jason’s stupid grinning face. He yells through the driver window, “Get in loser! We’re going shopping!”

Raven rolls her eyes and smiles. She quickly hops off the hood and climbs into the passenger seat of the car. She rests back against her seat and breathes heavily. She’s grateful for the moment of rest even if they are still on mission.

“Good news is, we’re not swiss cheese! Thank you for that. Bad news is, you dropped us at the furthest point on the pier from the water!” Jason exclaims.

Raven sighs, “Look it was either we live or we’re conveniently close to the water!”

“I don’t suppose you have enough mojo in you to port us closer?”

Raven rests her head in her hands, “negative.”

“That’s okay we’ll just do this Mad Max style!” Jason says shifting gear.

“Do you even know how to drive?”

“I’ve nicked cars plenty of times. This is my first semi. So, this’ll be fun for both of us!” Jason beams with a hint of madness in his eyes.

Raven sinks into her seat and grabs onto the door handle and dashboard with a death grip. “Mother of Azar, give me strength.”

Jason floors it sending the truck lurching into motion. He takes a sharp turn and follows a long drive in between two lines of warehouses. As he picks up speed he squeals with delight. Raven can’t help but also feel elated by the adrenaline and speed. She doesn’t recognize her own voice laughing with mania at the thrill and the adventure.

Their elation is short lived as they hear gunshots in the echo behind them. The cabin jerks. The truck loses some speed. Jason growls, “they took out one of the tires!” Raven looks in the side view mirror and sees three men on motorcycles tailing them. They are each holding guns.

Another shot rings and takes out the side view mirror startling Raven. “There’s three and they’re getting closer!”

“Hang on!” Jason orders. He jerks the truck into a sharp turn. The cargo hold slams into a pile of wooden boxes. The boxes cascade down in its wake. Two of the cyclists maneuver past the obstacles. The last one gets knocked out by a falling box.

Raven looks out the window and announces, “One down! There’s still two on our tail!”

“Not for long!”

Jason takes another sharp turn. One of the cyclists keeps up with the truck. The other slams into the wall of the warehouse with a fiery explosion. The final cyclist fires at the truck. The bullet skids along the cargo hold with a horrific screech. Jason exclaims, “Come on man, I just got my new ride and you’re keying my paint job?”

Raven grins wryly, “I’ll teach him some manners!” With that she rolls down her window. She sends a shadow blast at their pursuer knocking him off his bike.

Jason looks at her beaming, “That’s what I’m talking about! Shoots and scores!”

Raven smiles back at him. They lock eyes for the briefest moment of pure joy. Something catches Raven’s eye and she quickly glances out the windshield. Her eyes widen in horror. “Jason, look out!”

Before he could register what’s happening, the cabin lurches. He could feel his stomach shift as the truck free falls over the edge of the pier and into the river. In their excitement, he forgot to keep track of where they were.

The water fills up the cabin through Raven’s open window. Quickly undos his buckle. He looks over to Raven and sees her head tipped forward the impact must have temporarily disoriented her. Jason tries to quickly undo her buckle. To his horror, it’s jammed.

Thinking fast he quickly feels around for anything of use. He feels along the folded mirrors and to his delight he finds a stashed pocket knife. Though criminals, these guys know how to carry useful tools. When he looks back at Raven he sees her head is almost submerged. He quickly saws away at the tough fabric binding her to the seat.

He takes a deep breath and goes under. He’s so close. Just a few more good saws. Jason sticks his head up and takes one more swig of air. It’s now or never. The strap finally gives and Raven floats up. Jason wraps his arms around her waist. His lungs are burning but he was too close to give up.

He pushes at the door. It doesn’t give. He tries harder but still no budge. His lungs are now on fire. He finally let go of Raven and slamming his whole body against the door. It finally opens. He quickly grabs Raven and pulls them both through the opening.

He kicks with all of his might against the current caused by the sinking vessel. His muscles are fatigued and he’s seeing spots dancing in his vision. Up above he sees the light of the moon. This gives him the strength to push past his pain. He kicks harder and faster with all of his might.

The pressure around his header gets lighter  and lighter until he finally breaks the surface. He gasps lungfuls of sweet delicious air. After a second of catching his breath, he hoists Raven heads above the surface. He rests her on his front so that her head is resting on his shoulder. He performs an underwater heimlich on her desperation. “Come on, Rae! Don’t drown on me!” He begs.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally spits up water and gasps. Her ugly coughing is like music to his ears. Jason finds himself enveloping her in some kind of awkward underwater hug. It didn’t matter she was alive. He gasps, “Bird, I can kiss you right now!”

After a few deep breaths she says, “Slow down, boy blunder, it’s only our first date!”

He laughs, “It is not!”

“It is too!”

“This is at least our second! I would go as far as to say our third.”

Raven rolls her eyes. “Once we get back to dry land, get into warm clothes, and get in our dry beds, I will tell you how wrong you are!”

“Will that be our fourth date?” Jason asks.

“Second!” Raven groans.

“Keep telling yourself that!” Jason mocks.

Luckily they broke surface near the pier. Despite Raven’s protests, Jason carries both of them towards shore. Which is a small beach that rests along the embankment wall. Once they were able to touch the floor, they practically crawled the rest of the way out of the water. Once they were completely on land, they collapsed into the sand.

“Hey, dudes!” they hear. A little green dog comes bounding over and licks their faces with his tail wagging happily. Raven groans. Jason absentmindedly scratches the dog behind his ear.

“Gar, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m so happy to see you. You will not believe the adventure we had.”

“I’m sure Dick and I would love to hear all about it.” says a female voice.

Jason, Gar, and Raven quickly look up. Nightwing and Starfire stand over them. Their glares drill holes into the teens. Their whole demeanor screams that the three kids are in deep trouble.

Gar quickly morphs into a human and holds his hands up in surrender. “Dudes, just to be clear, I wasn’t the one who thought this would be a good idea!”

[candescentcalum]

I Can’t Remember (Part 2)

Summary: A frat!calum fic about frat boy Calum and sorority girl Y/N who are bitter rivals but end up waking up next to each other one morning after a drunken night of shenanigans and have to figure out what happened before anyone finds out.

Hey y'all! Here’s part 2 to my frat boy Calum fic! You can read part 1 here!

I’ll be posting part 3 when this post gets 100 notes!

Hope you guys like it!

Words: 1,843

Warnings: just language!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So how was everyone’s nights last night?” you asked your sorority. You were all having lunch together at the house as part of your weekly chapter bonding.

“It was pretty good for us, but how was your night Y/N?” asked a sophomore named Vanessa.

“Yeah, we all noticed you left the party early last night.” chimed in Mallory with a smirk on her face. All of a sudden a chorus of oohs and aahs erupted in the small kitchen.

“Oh enough,” you laughed.

“Her face is turning red!” someone shouted from the end of the table, which just made you laugh more.

“So who was the lucky guy?” Vanessa pried.

“Just a guy from my philosophy class.” you lied and waved it off when you noticed your phone light up with a text from a number you didn’t know. You unlocked your phone to look at it which caused another eruption of cheers from the girls.

“That’s probably him now!” Vanessa shouted excitedly as she got up and tried to take a look at your phone, but you were too quick. You walked out of the kitchen and into the main entryway before taking a look at what the text said.

Hey this is Calum. Meet back at your apartment in 10. I have a plan.

How did you get my number? You texted back.

From Jason. You know, my frat brother that you slept with twice last year and then never talked to again. You rolled your eyes at his comment. He acts as if he hasn’t done that to multiple girls before as well. Before leaving you popped your head back into the kitchen to tell the girls where you were going.

“I’m leaving again, I have some business to attend to!”

“Ooh is it another booty call?” Mallory joked.

“This early in the afternoon?” Vanessa laughed.

“I’ll see you guys later!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay so according to Mallory’s snap story you were still at the party at 11:38 pm, which means I was still there as well.” Calum explained as he watched Mallory’s story again for the twentieth time.

His big plan was to make a timeline of our night based upon what we could make out from our friends’ snapchat stories. Which, admittedly, wasn’t a bad plan but it wasn’t completely helpful either. We had already determined that neither one of our stories would be helpful. My phone had died at around 9:30 pm, which we determined based on Vanessa’s picture of me with a sad face captioned “her phone died :(”. And Calum had only one video on his story from 4:42 pm of one of his frat brothers doing a keg stand with the caption “pre gaming”.

“ So Mallory’s next video is from 12:47 and it’s her sitting by herself saying ‘all my friends left me’ so obviously we were gone by then.” you added.

“But here on Luke’s story I was still there with him at 12:16 so we hadn’t left the party yet .” Calum showed me Luke’s video of him and Calum taking jello shots in the kitchen with the time stamp across the middle.

“Jello shots, really? Are you a 15 year old girl?” you asked Calum with amusement in your voice.

“Shut up.” Calum said with exasperation.

“So I guess we just have to figure out what happened in-between 12:16 and 12:47 and when we left.” you told him.

“Wait, wait,” Calum suddenly got up from the couch and squinted at his phone screen.

“What is it?"you questioned as you jumped up beside him to try to get a look at his phone, but he’s so much taller than you that it was useless.  

"What were you wearing last night?” Calum asked, his eyes still glued to his screen as he watched someones story over and over.

“A red crop top and jeans I think. Why?” you asked.

“Is this you?” Calum held out his phone to you and you took it, waiting for the video to start over.   When it restarted you saw it was Ashton’s story you were watching and that he was taking a video of himself with the front facing camera of him chugging a beer and swaying to the music. In the background, you had a slight view of the front door and you could see a flash of a bright red crop top and (y/hc) hair glide out the door.

“Well I mean, thats my hair color and the color shirt I was wearing but I doubt I was the only one there wearing red. There were so many people.” I explained.

“But it’s the best lead we have.” Calum said. You shrugged your shoulders and nodded in slight agreement. He was right.

“I say we take this information and run with it.” Calum suggested. You nodded yes.

“Ash took this video at 12:42 so that means we left the party at 12:42 and went somewhere else.”

“Well no shit Sherlock.” you replied and rolled your eyes at Calum.

“Hey-” Calum started but was interrupted by the front door opening.

“I’m back bitch! Did you miss me?” Tatum’s voice rang out. Tatum was the vice president of your sorority, your roommate, and most importantly, your best friend. She went back home for the weekend for a family wedding and was getting back today, which you had completely forgotten about until this moment. You and Calum both looked at each other frantically.

“Hey!” Tatum said with a faltering smile as she rounded the corner into the living room area.

“Who’s that?” Tatum asked with a look of confusion on her face.

“Who?” you asked innocently.

“The 6 foot giant you’re trying to hide behind your back, I’m not stupid.” Tatum retorted as she she nudged you aside to look at the person behind you.

“Calum?” she gasped before looking at you with a look of disappointment on her face.

“Are you two a thing now?” Tatum fumed, angrily gesturing to the two of you. You were the most serious sorority member when it came to the whole Alpha Phi and Theta Chi rivalry but Tatum was a close second, so she was none too pleased about seeing Calum in your shared apartment.

“Hell no-” you tried to explain.

“So then what is he doing here?” Tatum snapped. You looked back at Calum with pleading eyes. He nodded at you, giving you the okay to tell Tatum about what happened. You ended up explaining everything to Tatum in detail starting from the moment you woke up that morning to where you were now. She was very upset with you at first at the fact that you might have slept with a Theta, but she’s your best friend and can never stay mad at you for long, and calmed down not long after.

“So you guys figured out when you left, but you still don’t know where you went or how you got back here?” Tatum asked. You and Calum both nodded yes.

“I would help you guys but I wasn’t even here last night. There’s no way I could know what happened.” Tatum stated apologetically.

“It’s okay, you can still help us though.” you told her. She looked at you questioningly.

“By not telling anyone.” you could tell she was about to protest but you stopped her before she could.

“At least not until we fully figure out what happened.” you reasoned.

“I guess.” Tatum agreed. Calum started making his way to the door to leave when Tatum turned to him.

“Sorry for snapping at you earlier.” she apologized to the both of you.

“It’s fine.” Calum said quickly. You could tell he wanted to get out of your apartment. He probably didn’t like being around Alpha’s.

“Bye.” you called out to Calum with annoyance in your voice as he shut the door behind him without another word. Didn’t he know it was rude to leave without saying anything.

“I guess he’s not that bad.” Tatum said.  

“For a Theta.” she shrugged and you rolled your eyes and laughed at her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So where have you been?” Ashton asked Calum as he reentered the Theta Chi frat house. Calum just stared at him like a deer caught in headlights.

“Y/N’s apartment maybe?” Ashton whisper questioned with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrow raised. Calum hung his head in defeat. Ashton knew.

“How did you find out?” Calum asked quietly. He didn’t want any of the other brothers in the house to hear them.

“I saw you two leave together after the party last night. I went outside to get some fresh air and you yelled at me from the road saying you were going to the diner downtown and I saw her draped all over your arm.” Ashton whispered with disgust.

“Wait, I said I was going to the diner?” Calum asked confused. He was so drunk that he couldn’t even remember that he had a short slurred conversation with Ashton.

“Probably going to eat to fill up on energy before your bone session.” Ashton rolled his eyes, completely ignoring Calum’s question.

“We didn’t have a 'bone session’ Ash.” Calum scoffed. It’s very possible that you actually might have, but he decided it would be best to leave that part out.

“So then where did you go with her?” Ashton spat out 'her’ like it burned his mouth to even say it. Ashton hated Alpha Phi almost as much as Calum did.

“I don’t know. We were drunk and can’t remember, but we do know that we didn’t fuck.” Calum lied. Calum knew for a fact that the only way Ashton would keep this a secret was if he didn’t know about the whole waking up in the same bed thing. So Calum didn’t think telling a little white lie would hurt anyone.

“What were you saying about the diner?” Calum inquired again.

“You said you were going to the diner.” Ashton elaborated as he uncrossed his arms and slightly relaxed his posture, meaning he wasn’t as mad as he was before.

“Which one? The one on Fifth?” Calum asked, trying to dig a little deeper.

“I’m assuming so. Thats the only diner we ever go to.”

“Thanks Ash. Can we keep this between us for now?” Calum asked. Ashton opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by their fellow fraternity brother Michael.

“What up boys?” Michael asked loudly as he entered the room.

“What are we gossiping about?” Michael smirked as he slung his arms around both Calum and Ashton. Calum looked at Ashton with pleading eyes, begging him to not say anything.

“Just talking about boobs.” Ashton replied with a shrug and a look to Calum that read 'you owe me’.

“Alright.” Michael laughed and gave high fives to both the boys.

“So who’s boobs were you talking about?” Michael asked Ashton as they walked into the kitchen together, but Calum strayed behind to send a quick text to Y/N.

Meet me later. I know where we went after the party.

[cooperandjonesinc]

No Lyrics, Just Words

A secret santa gift for @no-denying-shes-a-funny-girl as part of the Bughead Secret Santa gift exchange!

Rating: G

Words: 2478

Summary: Even though they’re both writers, Betty and Jughead were never any good at communicating. That’s why long before there was an exchange of kisses, there was an exchange of music.

(A fluffy New Years fic with way too many song references.)

It starts just before Betty leaves for her summer internship. She starts a group chat with Jughead and Archie, Jughead isn’t sure why he qualifies or why she thinks he cares, but he finds himself scrolling through anyway, hating every minute. The first song she ever sends him is actually to both of the boys. It’s Despacito. Later he will be grateful that at least she sent the original all Spanish version rather than the Beiber remix.

The issue is that he kind of likes it. It’s got a good beat, it’s sexy. He can imagine Betty dancing around her room mumbling along to the words she doesn’t understand. In his mind’s eye she dances in short shorts and a tank top that rides up exposing a hint of skin at her belly. That’s where he cuts the thought off. The day she arrives at her internship he sends her Welcome to Paradise by Greenday. Someone has to expose her to good music. A month later, after he’s heard the song dozens of times, he feels differently about that Latin beat.

During the months they are apart they talk very little. Even Archie barely hears from her, but he begins to fade away into his music too. She sends Jughead some songs that indulge his taste in music. Say It Ain’t So by Weezer floats through the trailer for a solid week after she reminds him that it exists. He retaliates with Here by Alessia Cara after Archie drags him to one summer bonfire thrown by the evil redheaded twins. It’s nice. It makes him feel connected to her even though no words are exchanged. He means to continue the tradition through the year, but Jason Blossom’s body washes ashore and suddenly there’s no time to worry about things like that anymore.

Betty misses the music as they run around town unraveling the mysteries of the bloody murder and cover up. When he cups her face in his hands and forever changes how she sees him she realizes that something started between them long before. She’d just been too blinded by a shock of red hair to notice. After the baby shower among their text messages she slips in a link to Paramore’s The Only Exception. She expects to receive back something sentimental. Instead he sends her Creep. As a jest she throws a boyband song back his way. The next time they meet he laughs at her, but she has trouble returning it. Part of her knows he means it, that he believes in those lyrics. When she finally admits to the crescent scars on her hands they share a set of headphones listening to The Monster with Eminem and Rihanna sharing space with their thoughts.

FP’s arrest, finding the tape, Cliff’s death, Cheryl’s suicide attempt, Fred’s shooting. All of it happens in 72 hours. The Sound of Silence echoes heavy in their consciousness.

When Jughead moves to Southside High the music stops again. For the first few days Betty hopes it’s for the same reason they stopped before. Their relationship was strong, they didn’t need to exchange songs when everything they needed to say they just shared with each other. But it’s not like that at all. It’s a scarce few miles between the two sides, but it may as well have been continents. The Black Hood complicates things even further. They break up without a single note left hanging in the air. When she comes to her senses and finally spills every secret she’s been holding in they get back together in a whirl of hushed whispers and hurried kisses. Unable to part from him she spends her nights in his bed.

The first song he ever sends her after joining the Serpents is Lydia by Highly Suspect. It isn’t just a spotify link to the song either. He sends her a link to the video. It starts with a shot of a girl underwater. The camera never leaves her. Two minutes in and she’s still submerged, tied down. There are no breaks, no cut aways. Betty is simply watching this girl drown. When her vision swims and her world starts to tilt Betty realizes that in sympathy she’s been holding her own breath. Her lungs fill with fire as she heaves air in. Suddenly she’s hyperventilating, she’s panicking. She can’t breathe. Jughead can’t breathe. He’s drowning with the Serpents, in over his head with no where to go. The song ends. The girl is still in the water, and Betty knows what she has to do. She has to dive into the pool with the Serpents to help Jughead get out.

For some reason it never even occurs to her that instead of setting Jughead free, she’d just get tangled into the same mess. The music stops.

It also never crossed her mind that she might just end up being actual friends with Toni. It starts with Toni pulling her aside after the disastrous dance.

“Mad respect for pulling it out like that, but you know dancing isn’t the only step to becoming a Serpent, right?”

No, she didn’t know. Jughead told her a little bit about his initiation, but not enough.

She knows, of course, that it’s a gang. She knows she’s entering into a world of blackmail, drugs, and other nefarious activities. But it doesn’t feel like that. It feels like being welcomed into a family. The Whyte Wyrm is an amalgam of bad Thanksgiving cliches. Yeah, your drunk racist aunt is chain smoking in the corner, but the rest of the group are people who get you in a way no one else will. The Coopers never felt right to Betty. Apparently she’d just been spending time with the wrong half of her DNA. Maybe she always belonged with the snakes. Well, most of them anyway.

Word travels fast about the Snake Charmer. The ruthless vicious part of Betty that nearly drowned Chuck is gloriously pleased at the vengeance. Her conscience quickly admonishes itself for thinking such things. No one deserves to have swaths of flesh cut off their arm. Then her rationale cuts in. This woman is not someone to be trifled with. She’d be looking for retribution of her own.

It’s Toni’s job to hide the streaming camera that catches Penny typing in her password. When Betty breaks into the office that night she hums Secret by the Pierces to herself. Because two can keep a secret if one of them is dead.

Predictably Tall Boy is the one Penny calls to her defense. “They cornered me!” She screeches to the crowd in the Wyrm. “They cut the snake right off my skin! Is that what Serpents do to each other?”

She’s chosen a day when Jughead is at school, obviously trying to start a revolt, “This can not stand!”

“Here Here! We’ve had nothing but trouble coming down on our heads since F.P’s boy got it in his head to try and take over.” Tall Boy adds to the growing restlessness.

“Hey Penny,” Betty shouts over the din, “Remind me why the kids jumped you.”

She sneered, “Because they weren’t willing to paid an agreed upon price. Is that what we want the next generation to be, welshers?” The crowd roared their approval.

“So you weren’t blackmailing them?” Toni stood tall at her side. They made a formidable team.

“I do what it takes to get the job done. Hey, I didn’t want to, but the Jones’ haven’t been trustworthy.”

“Not trustworthy?” Betty shook her head, “I think going to jail without a word was pretty high up. Tell me, Tall Boy, what have you done that made you not worthy of Ms. Peabody’s trust?”

“The hell you mean?” Tall Boy asked.

“Well,” Betty pulled out a few photos she’d taken upon herself to download. “She has several photos of you. Tell me, how long is the statute of limitations on aggravated assault? Because however long it is, that’s how long she owns you.”

As he flipped through the photos Tall Boy’s face grew redder.

“Now, I can explain that.” Penny pleaded

“Can you explain all of them? Because I think there’s something in here on every single person in this bar right now. Is this your way of never betraying your own? Is this how you make sure a Serpent never stands alone?”

Betty doesn’t have to say another word. The crowd took it away from her. Penny was forced to flee out the back. In all the commotion somehow Betty ends up with a jacket with a Serpent patch.

“Damn, B, you’re kind of ruthless.” Toni remarks.

“Dark. Most people call it dark.”

It feels like home.

++++++++++++

The snow falling on New Year’s eve is that glittering snow that falls in huge wet flakes. It’s snowman weather since it all clings together on mittens and eyelashes. In the house behind Betty a New Year’s bash rages. Reggie volunteered to host, followed swiftly by Cheryl commandeering the role since Reggie was apparently useless at planning anything. It was a great party, or at least everyone else seemed to think so since Betty was the only person avoiding it by sitting in the snow. Loud bass reverberated against the windows making them shudder. It was only a matter of time before the Sheriff would get called.

“Hey, Betts.” Jughead’s voice was soft in the twilight.

“Are you coming out here to smoke? Seems to be the only reason people step outside.” She shivered. Her dress barely went to her knees, so even with her cloak covering her upper half she was freezing.

Jughead smirked, “I thought you knew me better than that, Ms. Cooper. Nah, I think I’m just going to go. There’s nothing here for me.”

“Me too. I think I’ll head out soon.”

“What you’re not here to find romance?” He said. He tried to come off joking, but the bitterness clung.

“Nope. I kissed someone just for saying, ‘I need you Betty Cooper’ not too long ago. I think my judgment is compromised. If only the kiss had felt as good as hearing the words.”

Jughead stepped down next to her, his heavy boots thumped on the wooden steps. “Didn’t turn out well?” he asked as he sat next to her.

“I’m pretty sure I gave him a look that can only be classified as, ‘Horrified’, so yeah, I’d say not good is putting it mildly.”

They chuckled, “Can I ask who the lucky guy was or would that be weird?”

“Not weird.” She swallowed, “Archie. During the four seconds he was broken up with Ronnie.”

Quietly Jughead said, “You finally snagged the football star and didn’t like it?”

“No. He tasted like old dreams and disappointment. I don’t know what I was expecting, but not that. Actually, I do know what I was expecting. I was expecting it to be like it was with you. A revelation.”

“A revelation, huh?” He sounded rather smug, “Speaking of, I hear you finished the job I started on the Snake Charmer. You shouldn’t have done that, Betty. You’re in her crosshairs now.”

Betty groaned, “Can we not? I think something’s too dangerous for you, so I leave you behind. You think something is too dangerous for me and leave me behind. I’m going to do stupid things without you, the darkness is there even when you’re not. Let’s quit thinking we know what’s best for each other. It’s getting exhausting.”

“Yeah, I guess. But that seems to be all we can say to each other. If we’re not going to talk, what do you suggest we do?”

Just then the first few strands of Despacito floated through the walls. Betty giggled as she pulled Jughead to his feet. He reluctantly allowed her to move him into some semblance of a dance that ended with them giggling furiously in each other’s arms.

“Betty, can I tell you a secret?” He pulled her in close so that his breath was on her neck.

“Anything.” She whispered back, basking in his heat.

“I really, really, hate this God damned song.”

Betty was over come with another wave of giggles. “How is that a secret?”

“Most people who say they hate it secretly like it. Hell, I used to be one of them. Now I just plain hate it, but I listen to it all the time.”

“Why listen to a song you hate?”

“Because it was the first song you ever sent me.” He said with a shrug. “Did you know that despite it being the song of the summer it was actually released January 7th? So, happy song-versary I guess.”

She ran a finger down his cheek, “You too, Jughead. I wish we had made it as far.”

He tilted his head down, hers went up. Their mouths inched closer together.

Jughead pulled abruptly back, “No wait. This is stupid. We can’t do this again.”

“Why is it stupid? I mean it Jug, tell me why we shouldn’t keep fighting for each other.”

“Because you know what people say about repetition and insanity. Nothing’s different. We’ll just loop around again, breaking each other’s hearts in the process.”

“Then let’s break the circle. Let’s do something different this time.” Betty said.

“What?”

She took his hands in hers, “No more songs. I’m not saying we shouldn’t also send each other music, I’m just saying that we have to actually talk to each other. You have to stop believing that you’re protecting me from situations by jumping off a cliff and laving me stranded in a field. Just give me the option of taking your hand and leaping with you. Half the time I’m doing the same thing from the other side of the ledge anyway. We’ve said no more secrets before, but broke it so quickly. I’m never going to be that golden girl I was before I left for the internship. I know who I am now. This time, let’s mean it. Let’s go down swinging together.”

Through the windows came the sounds of the countdown to midnight.

“What do you say, Juggie? New Year’s resolution?”

6… 5… 4…

He kissed her hand, then let go so he could cup her cheek, “This year we leap together. No more lyrics, just words.”

3… 2… 1…

He leaned in and kissed her. Yeah, it was going to be a great year.

[dotshiiki]

FIC: The Silent Goddess (Secret Santa Fic for @sashencat)

Written for @sashencat​ @sashencat for the @pjosecretsanta2k17​ @pjosecretsanta2k17 exchange. I tried to deliver on as many of your requested characters and OTPs as possible. This didn't end up very shippy, but hopefully there were hints of all OTPs—except Nico/Jason, which I just couldn't find a way to work in. A big thank you to @rinarraven @rinarraven for beta-reading and the secret santa mods for running the exchange!

Merry Christmas, @sashencat @sashencat, and hope you like this! 

Summary: When weird things start happening on Camp Jupiter, Reyna gets pulled into a mystery that has her re-visiting her haunted past | 5893 words | Reyna, Frank, Nico, Hazel, Jason, Piper | Jeyna, Frazel, Jasiper if you squint.

The Silent Goddess

Reyna didn't believe in superstition. Her neighbours in San Juan, where she'd grown up, had been full of them—black cats and ladders and thirteenth floors and silly things like that. It was all just paranoia, an overblown belief that bad spirits were out to get you. And Reyna knew first-hand what it was like when that got out of control.

So when her legionnaires started muttering about seeing signs around Camp Jupiter, she didn't take it too seriously. They were children of the gods living in a magical enclave, training to fight monsters, for Mars's sake. You'd think everyone would know not to panic when weird things happened. She had enough to do without worrying about kids freaking out over onyx gemstones appearing in the wall capstones, or the shower of white petals that had blown in from Berkeley.

Okay, so it had been weird when their new augur, Ophelia, had gutted her first stuffed animal (a black cat) to find another one inside, and another, like one of those creepy Russian dolls. But the Mercury kids had pulled off more elaborate pranks than that before (and they had seemed a little too amused). And yes, she had to admit that the black fog that had settled last Friday on Temple Hill had an ominous feel. But ever since Jason had started that 'no god left behind' project of his, minor gods had been stopping by out of nowhere to check out their brand new shrines. It was probably just one of them doing something weird.

Her logic couldn't quash the growing rumours, though. The legionnaires whispered about harbingers of doom and traded stories about death omens. The latest one to spread had been the legend of a mysterious, vengeful Underworld goddess.

'They called her Dea Tacita,' Ophelia announced at the senate meeting. 'The Silent One. She can only speak through signs and portents … when she's coming to snatch someone.'

'Snatch someone?' Reyna raised an eyebrow. It sounded like a B-rated horror movie.

Ophelia nodded emphatically. 'She'll steal into your house—or the barracks, I guess—and snatch your soul for the Underworld.'

Frank frowned. 'I've never heard of this Dea Tacita.' He spoke hesitantly, like he was still feeling his way around his new role as Reyna's fellow praetor. 'Isn't Thanatos—or Letum, if we're talking Roman forms—the god of death? Why would we need another one?'

'Dea Tacita doesn't deliver death precisely. Once she marks you, you disappear slowly. Like, you'll fade away, bit by bit, become more ghost-like, until no one can see you any more.'

Against her will, a shiver ran down Reyna's spine. Everything Ophelia had just described …

She'd seen it before.

'And that's not even the end of it,' Ophelia continued. 'Once you're gone, the memory of you will fade into obscurity as well. It will be like you've never existed.'

'This is ridiculous,' Reyna said, quashing down her thrill of fear. 'Logically, if everyone who's ever been snatched—' she made little air quotes with her fingers, 'has been forgotten, we wouldn't even know about her. Isn't it possible someone just made up the whole story and passed it down?'

'But the signs!' Ophelia protested. 'The opals, the asphodel petals, the cats … all symbols of—'

'Death,' Hazel finished. As the daughter of Pluto, she probably knew what she was talking about. Reyna was relieved when Hazel added, 'But I don't see how it points to some unknown death goddess.'

'They're signs that she has her sights set on someone.'

Reyna crossed her arms. 'Hazel's right. We can't jump to far-fetched conclusions. Stop spreading the rumour, Ophelia. There's a logical explanation for this. No one's going to disappear. Or become a …'

Mania, her mind filled in for her.

'Or become a forgotten ghost,' she said firmly. 'We need to stop fear-mongering.'

That should have been the end of it. But then, right after that senate meeting, her nightmares started up.

Reyna didn't make much of them at first. Nightmares were part and parcel of every demigod's life, and they had just been through a war. After everything she'd seen in the past few months, it was to be expected that nightmares would plague her for a while.

But these … it was always the same sequence. She'd be on the balcony of her family's old hacienda, looking out over the colourful rooftops of San Juan. The night would be peaceful, quiet. And then the clouds would gather, blotting out the moon and the stars. In the darkness, they would come.

The ghosts of her ancestors would flood over the balustrades, hungry hands reaching out for her, smoky faces filled with insatiable need. They would press in closer, wailing her name, demanding … well, Reyna wasn't sure exactly what they wanted from her, but she was terrified that if they got hold of her, they would drag her down, eat away at her until she became one of them: a faded spirit filled with nothing but fear and desire.

And then, just as they were about to close in on her, she would appear.

Unlike the other ghosts, her appearance was more solid. Or maybe it was because she was covered in black from head to toe in robes made from a darkness so intense they drowned out the night. She had long ebony fingers that put Reyna in mind of the black keys on a piano. They were folded across her stomach, clasped around a single white blossom.

An asphodel. Just like the petals that had snowed on Camp Jupiter.

This woman never said a word. Reyna never even saw her face, obscured as it was by a rippling veil. But Reyna got the sense that she wanted something from her, too. Her need was softer than the other ghosts, gentle and muted, but powerful in its own way. Maybe even more so. It seemed to restrain the clamour of the others, creating a small space between them, a sliver of breathing room for Reyna.

'Who are you?' Reyna would say, but the woman remained mute and hidden, as though waiting for Reyna to answer her own question.

A mysterious Underworld goddess …

Reyna didn't want to believe it, but she would wake from her nightmares in a cold sweat, afraid that she'd become an empty shell, invisible to the world but for the remains of her ghostly energy.

Just like Julian Ramírez-Arellano.

No. It wasn't possible. She wasn't like her father. She couldn't be …

But she couldn't help wondering if this was how he had begun his descent into madness after his return from Iraq.

She had just been through a war, too.

'Reyna?'

She forced herself to stop ruminating and pay attention to Frank, who was staring at her with worry in his eyes.

'Sorry, what?'

'I just asked if you wanted to go over the plans for tonight's war games, but never mind that now. What's wrong?'

'Nothing.'

Frank crossed his arms over his chest. Despite his muscular build, he rarely looked threatening, thanks to his usual placid expression, but now he had a stern, don't give me that bullshit look on his face that made his resemblance to his god of war father more striking. He didn't say anything, but like the veiled woman in her dream, he was clearly waiting for an answer.

'Just nightmares.' Reyna tried to keep her voice light. 'You know.'

Frank's face softened—nightmares were something they all understood—but his brows remained drawn in a deep furrow. 'It's got something to do with the Underworld goddess thing, hasn't it? You're worried about her.'

Slowly, Reyna traced the bars on her forearm, her marks of service to New Rome. It had been a lot easier to hide stuff like this from Jason. As much as Reyna had liked him, Jason had never picked up on her feelings very well. Frank … well, they hadn't been working together for very long, but he was proving to be quite perceptive.

'I get it,' Frank said softly. 'You're worried that everyone will freak out even more if you show that you're scared. But we're partners, right? You can tell me. Maybe I can help.'

Reyna swallowed. She'd never have guessed that Frank would grow into such an impressive leader. After Jason had been MIA for months and Percy had skipped out right after being crowned praetor, she'd carried the position on her own for so long. It was hard to get used to the idea that she actually had a fellow praetor she could work with. Someone she could trust.

She sighed. 'Okay.'

The furrow in Frank's forehead deepened as she told him about the mysterious woman in her vision. She left out the parts about her family history—that wasn't something she liked to share with anyone, fellow praetor or not—but she described the veiled woman as carefully as she could.

'Do you think it's her? Dea Tacita?' Frank said when she finished.

'Honestly? I have no idea.' Reyna rubbed the back of her neck tiredly. 'I don't even want to believe that she exists. But if she does … what am I going to do about her?'

Frank cleared his throat. 'What are we going to do about her, you mean. I'm going to help, and so will Hazel, and all our friends. You don't have to handle this on your own.'

His display of support made her feel more solid. But there was one issue that no one would be able to help her with. 'The problem is, she's found me. And if Ophelia's right about what that means …'

'You're not going to disappear,' Frank said firmly. 'Reyna … when Jason handed me the praetorship and suddenly I had to make the calls when we were fighting Gaia—it was hard. And you've been doing it for years. You're a real leader. And I can't imagine that any mystery goddess could manage to make you fade away.'

'You think I should confront her, then?'

'If anyone could, it'd be you. But before you try, I've got an idea. I think we need to talk to Hazel and Nico.'

+++

A few months ago, Temple Hill had been a lonely place, with only three major temples at the crest—dedicated to Rome's holy trinity of Jupiter, Juno, and Mars—surrounded by a half-circle of dusty altars for the remaining VIP gods. Now, it was a centre of activity, with new shrines going up by the day. A skeleton construction crew, courtesy of Nico di Angelo, had been working on the project for weeks, ever since Jason had brought the idea over from Camp Half-Blood. He and Annabeth had apparently started designing a grand temple over there to honour all the gods, major and minor. Now he was on a mission to track down their Roman counterparts and give them proper representation at Camp Jupiter. Within a month, Temple Hill had become dotted with shrines, altars, and mini-temples. Jupiter's temple still stood in pride of place, but nearly every god had at least an altar to their name, too, even some Reyna hadn't known existed, like Mutinus and Pax. Jason had certainly done some thorough research. It was one of the things she'd always liked about him.

Right now, Jason and Nico stood at the base of the hill, overseeing the construction of their latest shrine. Jason had the design plans on a scroll in front of him, while Nico ordered his skeleton workers around. Both boys looked up when Reyna and Frank approached.

'Who's this one for?' Frank asked, as two skeletons hammered an arch across two pillars.

'Angerona,' Jason said. 'Goddess of pain and sorrow. Oh, not that kind,' he added quickly, seeing their worried expressions. 'Her job's to relieve pain and sorrow.'

'Good to know,' Reyna murmured. Hearing Jason talk about relieving pain and sorrow reminded her of Venus's promise a few years ago—no demigod shall heal your heart. Not that she was pining over Jason or anything, but it still made her insides twist a little.

Jason rolled up his design scroll. 'So, er, what brings you here?'

'Well, we're kind of looking for Nico,' Frank nodded to the son of Hades, 'and Hazel.'

Nico held up his hand in a T-shape to the skeleton workers, who promptly collapsed into a pile of bones by the new shrine's pillars. Probably that was their version of a break. 'You found me,' he said. 'And Hazel's inside.'

Jason nodded and winked. 'Step into my office, my friends.'

The 'office' was a glorified name for the little shack at the bottom of the hill from which Jason ran operations. Actually, it had a fancier name—the Domus Publica—but it wore that name much in the same way that Jason bore his fancy new title of Pontifex Maximus. Which was to say, carelessly, with scant regard for the honour of the position. There were no framed certificates or medals, no laurels or accolades to be found anywhere in the room. Colourful drawings were pinned to every wall, with a single corkboard for whatever project Jason had his attention on at the moment. One rickety wooden table took up half the room. Lying on it was the bulk of Jason's research: at one end were several heavy tomes Reyna recognised as originating from the senate library. Each was opened to a page on a different Roman deity.

Perched on the other end was Jason's girlfriend Piper, carefully painting what looked like an action figure. A whole line of them made a row along the edge of the table opposite Hazel, who sat sketching a motherly-looking woman with coronet braids. Next to her was a pile of completed drawings that looked like the blueprints for the figures on the table.

Frank picked up one of the figures. 'Are these Mythomagic figurines?'

Piper nodded. 'Jason promised he'd make all the gods action figures, but Nico thought these made more sense.'

'Minor gods expansion deck,' Nico explained. 'And we get to invent their power stats, too.' He nodded towards the figurine in Frank's hand. 'That's Palaemon. Or Portunes, in Roman. He's an enabler—he can unlock other gods' powers of up to 2,000 attack points, and that doubles if your opponent attacks first.'

'Nice,' Frank said. There was an excited gleam in his eyes. Then he seemed to remember why they had come. 'Er, we need to talk to Hazel and Nico.'

Piper frowned. 'Should we leave?'

Frank looked to Reyna. She considered it for a moment, then she thought of what Frank had said: You don't have to handle this on your own. She shook her head. 'Maybe you can help me—help us—figure this out, too.'

She and Frank told the others the story of Dea Tacita, and Reyna's dreams.

Piper shivered. 'Please tell me we're not talking about another evil earth goddess who wants to kill us all.'

'She might be an earth goddess,' Hazel said. Everyone stared at her. She wound her little finger around one of her curls, pulling it straight and letting it go again. 'I did some research after Ophelia brought her up. I tried to find someone who might fit. There aren't that many Roman Underworld goddesses, after all. I found one named Larenta, but there was so little recorded about her. I wonder how many minor gods faded out of existence because people stopped believing in them.'

'Well, that's what this project is about,' Jason said, touching one of the minor god figurines on the head.

'But back to Reyna's dream,' Frank said. 'I was thinking … well, Hazel, you have experience with—okay, maybe not dreams, but blackouts and flashbacks. I thought maybe you could try and follow Reyna into hers—meet this goddess with her.'

Hazel tugged on another curl. 'Sure, I've taken you into my flashback before, but I don't know if I could do it with someone else's.'

'You don't need to,' Nico said. He shook his head at Reyna. 'Dreams and death—that's my domain. I could navigate to you.' He twisted the skull ring he wore on his finger. 'But I won't do it unless you want me to.'

Gratitude washed over Reyna. She'd had a moment of consternation when Frank suggested that Hazel visit her dream. She hadn't told her friends everything about the nightmares, after all. But Nico knew her secret. He had a better idea than the rest what ghosts lurked in her past. And he was still offering to help … while also respecting her privacy.

'You don't always have to be the one giving others your strength, Reyna,' Jason said. 'Let Nico help.'

Reyna touched the sword and torch tattoo on her forearm—the symbol of Bellona, reminding her of her mother's blessing, her power to radiate her own strength and courage to those around her. Jason was right. She was so used to being the one giving aid to others that when it came to asking for it … she hardly knew how to. She turned to Nico. 'Will you help me?'

Nico held out his hand to her in a rare display of solidarity. 'Of course I will.'

+++

Reyna didn't really know what to expect that night. It wasn't exactly like setting out on a quest with her friends. Nico had promised that he'd find her, but he hadn't been able to explain how.

'It's sort of like shadow travel, but not exactly,' he'd said.

The nightmare started the same way, on her balcony in San Juan, under the starry sky. But this time, when the clouds gathered and the ghosts came, the one she feared most was at their front.

He was in his army fatigues, glowing brighter than the others, just like he had on the night she'd killed him. The hilt of the Pirate Confresi's sabre stuck out of his chest.

'Reyna Avila,' Julian Ramírez-Arellano rasped. 'Daughter.'

He held out his hands like he meant to hug her, but his face was crazed and angry, his eyes glowing with murderous rage. Reyna would have stumbled back if she could, but she couldn't find her feet. Her body felt wispy and insubstantial, as if she had already become a ghost, like her ancestors, like her father, the mania.

And this time, no veiled goddess appeared to barricade her from them.

Her father's hands closed around her wrist, so cold that they burned against her skin. He glowed even brighter, as if her essence was pouring out into him. She would fade, and he would return.

'Reyna!' Nico's voice rang out across the rooftops. The ghosts of her ancestors parted and she saw him waving his Stygian iron sword to cut a path through them. He was too far away to stop her father, but the sight of him gave her a boost of courage.

No one could make her fade. She would not become her father.

And with this thought, something burned in her chest, a brilliant warmth that filled her with shape and form. Reyna had never known what it felt like for those to whom she'd imparted her strength, but maybe it was something like this.

Her father's hands were still around hers, but his eyes lost the vicious anger that consumed him. They were just sad and haunted now.

'I need peace,' he whispered. 'Daughter …'

'Reyna!' Nico shouted again. His sword sliced through the last of the ghosts separating them. Julian vaporised at the touch of the Stygian iron, releasing Reyna.

'Are you okay?' Nico demanded.

Reyna nodded, not trusting her voice. She was shivering uncontrollably despite the strength that had just poured through her. Nico tried to grip her shoulder, but his hand passed right through. Reyna couldn't tell which of them had lost their form.

'Where's …' Nico's question faded as she appeared at last, standing serenely before them with her hands clasped around her white asphodel. Her smoky veil still obscured her face.

'That's her,' Reyna said.

Nico raised his sword, but the goddess was unfazed by the Stygian blade. She raised her flower above her head and let it drift from her long, slender fingers. It floated over to Reyna and Nico, leaving a trail of white petals behind it, exactly like the ones that had showered Camp Jupiter the previous week. They clung to Nico's sword, turning its black blade snowy white.

'Who are you?' Reyna asked.

Slowly, the goddess lifted her veil.

Her face was a shock. Reyna had expected it to be as dark as her hands—and indeed, one half of it was: a deep, midnight black that made Reyna think of galaxies and deep space. But the left half was chalk-white, which made her look as if she were wearing one of those Phantom of the Opera masks, except the two halves met seamlessly. Reyna couldn't well where one colour ended and the other began.

Nico gasped. 'I know you,' he said. 'I've seen you before, haven't I?'

Glowing amber eyes, reflective like a cat's, peered out of her paradoxical face, assessing them. She raised her hand, her ebony fingers uncurling towards Reyna as if inviting her to approach.

Reyna didn't take her up on it. 'Who is she?' she asked Nico.

'She's …' Nico screwed up his face. 'I'm not sure. She looks like … but that would make her Greek. And she didn't look exactly like this when I saw her before.' He turned to the goddess. 'Are you Melinoë?'

The goddess pursed her lips. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She closed her eyes briefly, and Reyna felt the air ripple around them like a sigh. She pointed at Reyna and touched her own throat.

She couldn't speak.

'D-Dea Tacita?' Reyna stammered.

The corners of the goddess's lips quirked upwards. It might have been a smile, a mischievous one that didn't really set Reyna's mind at ease. At the same time, she shook her head slightly, a gesture that might be disconfirming Reyna's statement. Her cat-like eyes remained firmly fixed on Reyna as she extended her hand again.

'I … I think I should take her hand,' Reyna said.

'Are you sure?'

She wasn't. She was terrified that the moment she touched the goddess, the same fading feeling that had seized her with her father's ghost would overcome her again, and this time she wouldn't be able to fight back.

But something in the goddess's eyes tugged at her heart. What must it be like to spend all eternity voiceless, unable to ask for help?

Something Nico had said to her before floated to the top of her mind: Your voice is your identity. If you don't use it, you're halfway to Asphodel.

Reyna looked at the asphodel petals piled about their feet and took a deep breath.

She reached out and met the goddess's hand.

She felt the goddess's hesitation through the touch of their skin. Reyna's sword and torch tattoo tingled. She could tell that the goddess sensed her power, wanted to use it. There was a magnetic pull, like her strength wanted to flow out to this being who craved it, but was barely holding back, like a weak dam against the tide. It was this hesitation, this tiny sign that the goddess would not just take, that reassured Reyna.

She imagined herself addressing her legion, her voice projecting across an assembly, and fed that image to the goddess.

The goddess's amber eyes widened. Her lips parted. 'Eυχαριστώ,' she said in a hoarse whisper.

'What?' Reyna said, bewildered. It sounded like Aphrodite's bistro or something equally nonsensical.

'She's thanking you,' Nico said. 'In Greek.' He frowned at the goddess. 'You're Greek.'

The goddess blinked and cocked her head to one side as though trying his comment on for size. Reyna squeezed her hand encouragingly, still letting her strength, her voice, flow out to her.

'Can you ask her to tell us who she is?' she asked Nico.

Nico translated.

The goddess closed her eyes briefly, then switched languages. 'I—' She formed her words slowly, as if each one were completely new. Which they probably were, if she hadn't spoken since the age of Greece. 'It has been a long time. I have not been named in eons. I … may have forgotten.' Her voice, hollow at first, mellowed with each sentence, becoming richer, more melodious.

Reyna considered this. 'Do you remember what was your domain?'

The goddess raised her free hand to her heart. 'Death,' she said solemnly. 'Blessed death. I brought peace to those who passed.' From her chest, she extended her hand, palm facing up, like a gift. Asphodel petals rained down on them again. She frowned at Reyna. 'There are restless spirits about you, spirits that seek peace.'

Reyna winced. The ghosts of her ancestors, her father the mania, were gone for now, but she could still sense them lurking. 'Have they—have you come for me?'

The goddess shook her head. 'I did not come to take. My role was always to give. But I have been forgotten for too long. If I am to return, I need …' Her finger trailed down her dark throat, as though what she was searching for had been lost in her years of voicelessness.

'You need help,' Nico said, giving Reyna a significant look. 'You're asking Reyna for help.'

'I …' The goddess clasped both her hands around Reyna's. 'Perhaps.'

Reyna swallowed. 'Why me, though? You're a Greek goddess—why choose a Roman demigod? And I didn't even believe in you when I saw your first signs.'

The goddess shrugged. 'But you responded to my silent call.' She walked her fingers up Reyna's forearm, to her SPQR tattoo, her bars of service, and the symbol of her mother. 'Daughter of Bellona. Praetor of Rome.' Her hand drifted to Reyna's shoulder and traced a line from it, as though lifting an invisible cape. 'Yet you bear the blessing and protection of a Greek goddess.'

'The Aegis of Athena,' Reyna whispered.

'This is not the first time you have been called upon to bridge two worlds. Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano.' There was something powerful about the way she named Reyna. 'You have already lent me your strength. Find a way to bring my voice back to your world. And in return … I can bring peace to your spirits.'

The goddess released her and stepped away. The entire scene dissolved. Reyna felt herself falling along with the goddess's asphodel blossoms, drifting slowly through a black fog.

+++

They met back in Jason's shack the next morning, where Reyna tried to explain the charge the silent goddess had laid upon her.

'She wants you to bring her voice to the world,' Jason said dubiously. 'But she could only talk when you held her hand.

Piper massaged her throat. 'It's figurative, duh. Unless you think she wants to do some fishy Little Mermaid thing. Er, no pun intended.'

'What?' Nico and Hazel said in unison.

'The Little Mermaid? Disney? Gave up her voice to a sea witch?'

'It was before their time,' Frank reminded her. 'But maybe you're on to something. The voice thing, I mean. What if she gave up her voice before, and that's why she faded away? Maybe we just have to find it and give it back.'

'I don't think that's it,' Nico said. He walked one of the Mythomagic figures up and down the edge of the desk. 'Bring my voice back, she said. I don't think she lost it. I think we did.'

Your voice is your identity, Reyna thought. Maybe that worked in reverse as well. The goddess's identity … was her voice. 'We need to figure out who she is,' she said. 'And then …' She gestured to the row of Mythomagic figures. 'We need to honour her, too.'

'Well,' Jason said, looking out at the new shrines popping up all over Temple Hill, 'she came to the right place.'

They got to work immediately. Hazel created a sketch of the goddess from Reyna and Nico's description, and she and Frank went through Jason's history books, comparing her to every picture or written description in the hope of finding a match. Jason and Piper researched the signs that had descended on Camp Jupiter, looking for goddesses who were related to them. That left Reyna and Nico to assess each possibility the others threw their way.

'I feel like the answer's closer than we think,' Nico said.

'You thought you knew her,' Reyna recalled. 'You called her Melinoë.'

Nico toyed absently with his Mythomagic figurine. 'Melinoë is the goddess of ghosts,' he said. 'She—well, she's not very nice. Even the Underworld daemons are scared of her. She would release them into the mortal world at night—ghosts, mania …'

At the word, Jason looked up, his face pale.

'What's wrong?' Reyna asked.

He shook his head. 'Nothing—just … nothing.'

Piper squeezed his arm. 'We ran into a mania in Ithaca.'

Jason nodded. He took off his glasses and cleaned them slowly on the edge of his shirt. 'My—my mother.'

Something seemed to explode in the pit of Reyna's stomach. 'Your mother? But I thought …'

'I never really knew her,' Jason said. 'I mean, she abandoned me when I was a kid. When I found Thalia, she told me our mom had gone crazy and she'd died eventually in a car crash. But I guess that wasn't all of it. She … she's still a restless spirit. I warded her off in Ithaca—I sent her away. But I still wish … I wish I could've helped her.'

Reyna gaped at him. Every word he said reminded her of her own troubled relationship with her father. The secret she'd guarded so carefully all these years she'd been at Camp Jupiter. To learn now that Jason shared a similar experience …

Maybe if she'd opened up earlier, he might have understood.

Jason set his glasses back on his face. They magnified his electric-blue eyes, intensifying his serious gaze. 'What you said, about the goddess bringing peace to spirits … I was hoping she meant my mom.'

'Maybe she did,' Reyna said. 'Maybe she can help both of us.' And with an encouraging nod from Nico, she told them about the ghosts in her dreams, and the restless, wandering spirit of her father.

There was no judgement. In fact, the others all had stories to share as well. It was like they had unlocked the door of ghosts Nico had spoken of and let the spirits that haunted them pour forth into their midst. But shared among the six of them, the restless, attention-seeking spirits lost some of their power. Their mutual acceptance was like a blessing, embracing and protecting them from the greedy clutches of the dead.

A blessing …

Reyna wasn't sure who it hit first. Maybe they all reached the same conclusion simultaneously.

'That's her name,' she said. 'In Greek.'

Nico slapped a palm to his head. 'Makaria. Literally—that's Greek for "blessed." She told us who she was all along.'

Hazel scribbled the name under her drawing of the goddess and placed it in the centre of their circle. Nico touched the black and white contours of her face. 'She's Melinoë in reverse. If Melinoë fuels mania, maybe Makaria can reverse it.'

Reyna looked at Jason. The concern, the hope they still had for their wretched parents, passed between them.

'She knew we needed her,' Jason said. 'That's why she reached out to you.'

Reyna put her hand to her throat, mimicking the goddess—brave, silent Makaria. 'Let's give her back her voice.'

+++

The temple was made of black stone, flanked by pillars of onyx with spiral carvings running up and down that revealed the white bands in the stone. It was guarded by a pair of marble cats with amber eyes. Whenever someone in New Rome lost a loved one, a dark fog would creep up over the temple, dissipating once they placed a sprig of asphodel upon the altar. There was usually a full bouquet of the white flower sitting in a vase on a shelf above the altar anyway, under a carved inscription in Greek and Latin: Makaria | Benedictus.

Today, there was someone sitting on the altar, cross-legged with her long, ebony fingers meeting on her knees, like she was meditating, or maybe doing yoga. An enigmatic smile played about her lips as she watched Reyna through half-closed eyes.

'My dreams have stopped,' Reyna said. 'I guess that means my dad …'

Makaria placed one finger to her lips and Reyna fell silent. The asphodel blossoms she had just laid before the altar incinerated in a plume of black smoke. When it dissipated, the white bands in the onyx pillars grew silvery, like a mirror, reflecting Reyna's face. Then her features changed, her cheeks hollowing, lines deepening in her forehead, her jaw thickening. Julian Ramírez-Arellano smiled at her gently.

Makaria reached out and took Reyna by the hand. The moment her skin touched the goddess's, she heard her father speak.

'I am at peace, daughter. Remember me as I was—not as I became.'

Reyna held the new image of her father in her mind, even after his reflection disappeared and the stone went back to normal.

'Thank you,' she whispered when Makaria released her.

'So that's her.' Jason and Hazel stepped across the threshold, their arms full of fresh asphodel. Piper and Frank hovered just behind, eyes wide with awe.

Makaria inclined her head.

Jason's jaw clenched. 'Is my mother …?'

Makaria extended her hands. With a nervous glance at Reyna, Jason stepped forward. Makaria cocked her head towards Hazel, who bit her lip before taking the goddess's other hand.

Reyna watched her friends' faces change as Makaria showed them the answer to their unspoken questions. A tear trickled down Hazel's cheek, but her lips curved into a smile. Behind his glasses, Jason's eyes were misty.

'Hold on to the good memories,' Makaria said. 'Even when you move on.'

Frank shifted his weight awkwardly from one foot to another and cleared his throat. 'I just have one question,' he said. 'About Dea Tacita.'

'Ah.' Makaria's mysterious smile returned. 'You wish to know if we are one and the same.'

'Well, yes.'

She interlocked her fingers and brought them to her chin as if in prayer. 'I do not know,' she said finally. 'Maybe Dea Tacita was in all of us who lacked a voice. She represents all the goddesses who have been silenced and forgotten, and who need your help to find our voices.'

'We're working on it,' Jason promised. 'The Greeks and the Romans.'

Makaria spread her hands again. 'Or maybe she is still waiting to be found.' She winked one cat-like eye and just like that, she disappeared in a shower of asphodel petals.

'Huh,' Piper said. 'That clears things up.'

'I guess we'll never know if Ophelia's myth is true after all,' Hazel sighed.

'Maybe not,' Reyna said. 'But I guess there's only one way to find out.' She waved towards the new population of shrines on the hill. 'Come on. Let's go give back more voices.'

A/N: Not much is actually recorded about the goddess Dea Tacita or the possible identities Reyna and the others discuss for her, so I embellished a lot. My basic research comes from this list of Roman deities. Likewise, the Greek goddess Makaria doesn't have a lot written about her either (though she does get a mention in Percy Jackson’s Greek Gods!)