#Jason has no clue what’s going on he’s very overwhelmed right now

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 274

You know what is fun? Baby Ghost Jason. You know what could be even more fun? Ghosts are Dragons. 

Jason? Aware of none of this. 

He was on comms, y’know listening and rolling his eyes at Dickwing, who used his real name, really Dick, he mocks. It’s just a stakeout, nothing new there, honestly boring when he could be blowing something up instead. It should have just been a stakeout. 

Yet there’s something suddenly there, something behind him. Something that causes his hair to stand on end and his comms to spark into static like some sort of horror movie. Something, something with clawed hands with corpse-pale skin tipped in black, stained or dead or something else, tilting his head up and up and up as he’s frozen. 

“A child, out here? Alone?” a voice crackles, hisses, hums, and purrs, somehow all at once, unnatural in its tone. He can’t move, he needs to move, he has to move, but it’s like the space around him has gone cold and dead, like he’s stuck in the Pits once more as claws hold his head and his vision blurs. “Sleep, child. Rest- we’ll be home soon.” 

[martyrsex]

JASON TODD x READER

a/n: hello, i'm back again! well, this is a very silly cliche, but i really wanted to post something - even if it's a very silly cliche.

summary: reader and jason end up in the middle of a cabin. it's cold outside, snow preventing them from getting out. they need to spend the night, and - uh oh, only one bed.

Cabin.

"My fingers are gonna fall off. I'm losing my fingers." Jason laughs at the dramatic way she states that, while working on the fire. She sits in the carpet behind him. He can feel her eyes penetrating the back of his head.

"Not letting you lose your fingers, don't worry." As the fire finally gets steady, Jason let go of the stick and tilts his head. Her soft features are painted by the orange light, and she blows air on her fingers, trying to warm them.

He feels cold himself, the wind passing through the wood walls and threatening the fire he battled to keep alive. He gets up, her eyes following his steps, analyzing the cabin they ended up for the night. In the middle of north Russia.

"I'm amused about how you know this place." He states, questioning himself about her unusual - yet convenient - knowledge of places that are just perfect for their just as unusual job. In resume, she has the key to a bunch of small, secret cabins around the world.

"I have a lot of... contacts. Networking is everything, I guess."

She gets up, dragging the huge blanket behind her. They had no clue of time, and the storm outside discarded every option of leaving the small house soon.

"We'll have to stay for the night. Maybe more than one. There's food?"

"Yeah. A lot of canned crap, probably - I'm gonna look in the kitchen." Her and the stupid blanket leave him alone, and he takes the opportunity to search for any kind of weapons. None.

The cabin seemed out of a Ghibli movie. Small, in the middle of a soft, new snow. If it wasn't for this mysterious contact of hers, they would've freezed to death. The wood was of a dark brown, yellow flashing lights - as if a stronger breath was enough to shove them into darkness. Is comforting, in a way. Quiet.

"So, there is a lot of canned crap, as usual." He hums, acknowledging her information. She keeps talking;

"But is not a lot, so we should probably save it for tomorrow."

"That's fine. I'm not really hungry." Jason sits on the bed, sheets strangely clean for a place so unused. Everything was oddly clean, he realizes.

She sits besides him, eyes lost in thoughts. Jason was familiarized with the way she retreats inside her mind, sometimes being awfully quiet for long periods of time. As if she wasn't really there. He knows the feeling too well - ghosts of the past sneaking in unpredictable moments. He normally would respect her space, leaving her alone to deal with wathever was going inside her mind, but is impossible to do that now. He needs her; they need to figure a way to get out of here.

"Hey," his hand touches her shoulder, shaking it at the most gentle way, "we need to plan how we're reaching the others, so they can get us out."

Her eyes snap, as if she just woke up from a dream. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

Jason decides then, this is not working. "We should go to bed. Tomorrow we need to find a way to contact Bruce."

Scratching her eyes, she nods. "Right. Sleep seems good."

It's not the first time he has to share bed with someone. He did it with Roy, with his brothers, with Artemis. When living in the street, he shared his shitty mat with strangers. And many of them stole it from him, if that counts for anything. The point is, he was used to share space.

So Jason doesn't understand why his heart races so fast now. He is nervous. The bed isn't exactly big, far from it, and the coldness outside obliges them to keep close. He tries to not touch, keeping his back against hers, staring at the wall. The low fire now being the only light, and yet he felt overwhelmed with clarity; overwhelmed with how sensitive his skin is towards every movement she does.

She turns around, facing his large shoulders, and her breath in the back of his neck arouses shivers in his arms. "Jason, are you awake? I'm freezing."

He tilts his head, enough to look at her upon his shoulder, "I'm awake. Do you want me to check if there's any other blanket?"

She refuses the offer with a shake of her head, "I already did. There's none."

The fire light made her eyes glow, and he felt like those thoughts of her - being stared mercilessly at, unable to hide. He sighs, searching any other way to warm her, but his mind only perceives one.

"I can - I can warm you, if you really need it." He curses at himself for stuttering at such a silly phrase, aware this is just so she doesn't get cold. Assuring himself it's a mere necessity, nothing else, and there's no need for his heartbeat to increase. Clark is probably able to hear it from Metropolis.

"That would be... convenient. But if it makes you uncomfortable, there's no -"

"It doesn't. It's fine." She smiles at that, and his cheeks redden at the hurry the words left his mouth. Jason hopes she doesn't realize the color in his face isn't because of the soft lights emerging from the fire.

He turns around, face in front of hers, hands not daring to touch yet. Her mouth is slightly apart, and he fights against an urge to look at those soft lips. The question of how they must feel against his own invading his mind, how would she react if he decided to taste them. If he choosed a different way to warm her.

"Jason?" His eyes trail up again.

"Yeah?" Adorable smile; a chuckle leaving her throat.

"I'll turn around so you can... You know, not let me freeze to death." Before waiting for an answer, her face vanishes in the darkness, soft hair taking it's place. He acts on his word, strong hands bringing her close to him by the hips. Jason dares to rest one of them in her belly; feeling a much smaller hand holding his own, her thumb stroking his wrist slowly.

They always had an interesting relation. Eyes searching for each other in the room, hands touching in planned accidents. But the job, the duty; the schedule. It was hard to get involved this way - because there's risk every single day. He knows she has feelings, but is that fear of getting attached and losing. But Jason knows losing someone before loving them properly hurts way more.

If he was feeling overwhelmed before, now he's probably combusting. At least it will keep her warm, he thinks. The smell of her hair intoxicates his senses, keeping him awake, and at the same, urging him to sleep. It's such a small act, her hand uppon his, holding carefully. But it is enough to make him sigh.

Her breath is slow, and he knows she's sleeping. So he close his own eyes, getting closer to her. He allows his mind to run free, indescribable images of different situations he was shoved in - most of them against his wish. Jason feels safe, comfortable.

He could get used to this, he thinks. He could actually have a proper sleep routine if he knew she would be there, waiting for him to provide heat. Tomorrow, they have a hard duty of getting the hell out of that cabin in the middle of the white woods. He hopes is hard enough to require one more night besides her, and curses himself for his selfish, silly wish; before finding rest in her company.

[crypterion-moon]

Tiamat: Rise in Shadow p.3

Summary: Fresh from their missions, the team finds intruders stepping into their new territory. But the mad scramble nearly costs Tim his life and limb, if it weren’t for a mysterious stranger saving his life. But it isn’t over and a clue is left behind

Tags: Violence

Dick let out a heavy breath as he tipped back in his chair, eyes straining from working at the computer for too long and legs, jelly and aching from standing for hours trying to piece together information the team had found while fighting the Light, while trying to pull up whatever he could on what had killed those men and what little he could find, any possible leads always went nowhere. No evidence of alien activity lately since the Reach, it was too sudden, no reported similar sightings or cases that led to their island and no motive except maybe revenge or a contract but those seemed unlikely as well, Dick couldn’t tell with so little evidence. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t seen sickos do things like this before, that’s why generally, the team is told to avoid Gotham, not because Batman was possessive but because only he knew how to handle cases like this. If Dick had to be frank, they were lucky to have to deal with alien invasions and crazy robots mostly. Difficult, but easy on the mind and eyes, most of the time. It was too easy to underestimate how perverse the mind of a human could become and the Joker was evidence of this. But he was only one psycho in the midst of seven billion other possibilities some, probably capable of sicker methods, less efficient but as long as it was...fun. And Dick had seen too many of these since he became Robin, it made him wonder how he managed to not go insane as well. He tapped a key on the console, which brought up a new window, the camera overlooking the team’s kitchen where they were all congregating, over cake. Bart eating most of it, as usual, and Dick remembered, the reason he hadn’t tipped himself over the edge, the Young Justice, the team he, Kaldur, SuperBoy and Wally started all those years ago, disobeying orders and causing mischief, were the ones keeping him together. He had to protect them, protect what they had. He sighed, closing the window, great job he was doing. If only Wally was still around. If only he could go back to the way things were, he missed the way he could goof off as Robin. But people grow up and superheroes grow up even faster, lose that innocence even before they could enjoy it. That’s just how it was. The responsibility grows heavy on his shoulders. It was easy to underestimate how cruel and disgusting the world could be. For their sake and Tim’s, he had to protect what was left.

Suddenly, the alarms began to wail and it startled Dick so hard that he fell out of his seat, instinctively, when he picked himself up he immediately dropped into his combat stance. Already, the rest of the Young Justice were running out though half in uniform, half not in Beast Boy’s case, who managed to pull on the top half of his suit but was still in boxers. M’Gann and Cassie were still in sleepwear.

“What’s going on?” Robin asked as soon as he reached Dick, now tapping away at the console, flicking through camera to camera.

“Not sure yet, but the perimeter sensors were tripped, we’ve got someone snooping around outside.”

“Sure it isn’t some deer or something?” Bart said earning him an elbow to the gut from Jaime.

“Course not, why would we put them there if they kept picking up animals.”

“Jaime’s right, those sensors are designed to detect intruders and suspicious activity, if they’re going  crazy, there’s definitely someone out there,” Dick said, as he checked each camera, suddenly his eyes caught a fleeting shadow out of 14b, just outside the third entrance, west.

“There!” Dick turned to the team, “Alright, Robin, Superboy you guys are coming with me, everybody else, cover the exit points, make sure that whoever has trespassed doesn’t leave. We don’t have much time, let’s go.”

As Bart was the fastest, he was gone before any of the others had reached the mouth of the cave. Very soon, Robin, Nightwing and Superboy reached point 14b, right where the disturbance was picked up. Of course, there was no sign of anything but following in the direction of the shadow, they continued the pursuit.

“M’gann put us into a mind link.” Dick said through his comm.

“Already done,” came her reply.

“Kid-Flash, see anything?” Dick asked through the mental link as the three continued the chase.

“Nuh-uh, pretty dark here and all I see are trees and more trees, I must’ve run in circles about a dozen times now.”

“Keep looking, they can’t have gotten far.”

There was nearly no sound, nothing stirred, if this was an infiltration by the Light they would’ve come out by now for a fight and a large group geared to take down superheroes wouldn’t be this quiet. Dick grimaced, it could only mean one thing, that their murderer was prowling nearby. Time to change tactics.

“Listen up, I want everyone to take caution and keep a careful eye out,” he paused, “There’s a possibility that our mass killer is here. Engage from a distance if possible and pull out if you can’t beat him, I repeat, engage from afar, retreat if the threat is too much.”

Just as Nightwing was barking orders, Robin who trailed behind the two, looked to his left and noticed a glint of light, shining from the cover of bushes as they ran past. Suddenly he felt overcome with the urge to look, forgetting to notify Superboy or Nightwing, He slowed down to a stop, eyes still glued to the two little lights and began to walk towards them, all thoughts leaving him with only his overwhelming curiosity. As he got closer, he saw those two dots flicker and move, retreating further into the dark of the woods. Against all his trained instincts screaming at him, he followed them in. His legs taking him forwards until he was very much lost within the thick clumping of trees, in that exact moment, his senses returned and Tim realized he’d just broken off from the group without them knowing. He attempted to call out mentally but no one replied, his link to them broken or blocked somehow. He could feel fear slowly building up inside.

“Okay, breathe, you can do this,” he muttered to himself as he gripped his bo staff tighter, “You faced Killer Croc, Ivy, Clayface and Two-Face, you can beat this creep.”

He advanced, though he could try find his way back to the cave, but in the minutes he’d walked further on like a zombie, Tim was unsure of where his location was, and the forests surrounding HQ was, simply put, vast. With the mind link gone, he felt alone and lost. This was bad.

“Miss martian, Blue Beetle?”

No one answered as he called out loud, “Nightwing? Superboy?”

How far had he walked? This was embarrassing, getting so lost even though technically he was so close to base. And it looked like it was getting darker than night, the deafening silence surrounded him. There was no way one of them wouldn’t let him go with this, especially Gar. The thickening shadows was lowering visibility further and further that for some reason his night vision lens was becoming less effective, then without warning, they malfunctioned and he had to switch back to normal vision. This was bad, he shouldn’t have wandered forwards. Robin decided to turn on his heel and attempt to trace his steps back. The moment his back was turned, a large, roaring mass slammed into him, sending him down onto the ground with its weight pinning him there. Robin grunted and struggled, trying to unbalance whatever was crushing him. It growled in response and Robin felt its grip tightening, claws digging into his armour which must have made it through the first layer. He swallowed, sincerely hoping it was just Gar playing a stupid prank on him.

“If that’s you Beast Boy it’s not funny. Get. Off.”

Robin tried to elbow his assailant lightly, just enough to take Garfield by surprise and hopefully get him to move but when he swung, he realized that it wasn’t Beast Boy at all. Not with that growl, that look. He’d never seen a creature like it, a hulking, oozing beast that was more bone and spines than flesh, pus and boils covered what skin it had, and it’s teeth, oversized, filthy spikes, constantly drooling. It’s breath was reminiscent of any rotting thing Robin could remember. Nothing should be that hideous and yet here it was pinning him down and savouring the moment before it tears him apart. And all at once, he felt the terror rip through him. Thinking fast, he took out the taser and attempted to knock it out or at least stun it with a jolt. It roared and reared it’s ugly head for a moment, seemingly distracted Robin attempted to kick the beast off him but before he could wriggle away, it turned back to its prey, visibly irritated now. Great, he thought, that did nothing accept piss it off even more. Think Tim, his mind running through various scenarios, any possibilities on how to dislodge the creature. You’ve faced bigger, badder, uglies than this from invasions and mutants. Suddenly, Tim’s mind blanked as he watched the creature rear up, staring right into his eyes past the mask, reading him, his mind, his life and regurgitating all the negative things from the empty void. No soul, no life, not an extraterrestrial mammal built for survival. No words just things Tim could see in it’s glowing eyes, and he couldn’t look away. A deep guttural growl bellowed from it, the creature now bearing all its rotten teeth, black oozing from its jaws. It seemed to be laughing, he couldn’t tell through the fear that was now bubbling through. This thing was playing, a mortal toy in its grasp and it knew nothing Tim or anyone could do would stop it. Suddenly, he couldn’t help but wonder, if he’d see Jason. He wanted to shut his eyes tight but he couldn’t, that thing was holding his gaze, all he could do was hope for a quick end. The teeth and pain never came. Instead, he heard a distinct hissing followed by something far quicker than the eye colliding with the monster. Caught off guard it bellowed with a deafening roar and was launched away, and then, Tim couldn’t feel it pinning him down anymore. He propped himself up feeling the weightlessness again, almost lost in relief before his eyes blinked in the dark, seeing two glowing eyes not looking at him but past him. He still couldn’t move, something was nagging the back of his mind, his comms but his hands weren’t listening.

“Did you really think I would be fool enough to assume you and your damned ken wouldn’t follow me here? You think little of me.”

A figure emerged slowly from the shadows, glowing blue eyes stared down yellow ones. A young man maybe only a few years older than Tim, dressed in all black in what looked like a dress shirt and pants, grinning like a devil, he was oddly...attractive. Which was an alarming thought to have for someone who literally just walked out from nowhere, but unable to help feeling himself drawn to the stranger. If it weren’t for the blaring danger that he’d been trained to be aware of, he’d have forgotten entirely about the multi-legged slime monster growling from in front of him. He looked to and back from them both as they continued their little stare down. The man didn’t seem to have acknowledged his presence and the monster, he hoped, had temporarily forgotten about him.

“You,” it growled, oh, it talks, “I could smell you coming.”

The young man gave a dark chuckle, “Flattering, seeing how you chased me around I take it that you like it?”

“We will have you, your kind won’t hear you scream here,” the demonic hound growled, leaning back on its haunches.

“I think you will find I can fend for myself, mutt.”

At that, it launched itself with a screech at him, with Tim only just managing to scramble away. The stranger not missing one moment, reached behind him and brought that hand back around, a long weapon in his grip. The shaft slammed hard enough into the creature to hear a squelch and crack of what Tim could assume was bone and something else. He didn’t really want to think about what it was made of. The weapon was completely materialized by the time the monster had stumbled back on its feet. It resembled a bo staff like Tim’s except it was black, not painted, black like obsidian or onyx. Was it possible for a weapon to be completely forged out of a mineral? Attached at the end was a weighted blade, curved and warped, a series of sharp edges wrapped around a crescent.

“Now, depending on you answer, I can make this quick or you can make this enjoyable for me.” he said, whirling the staff in hand, “Where is he?”

The creature answered with a roar and pounced again, jaws gnashing. The strange took a step back and before it could come crashing down on him, he brought his knee back and up into the its gut. It howled and crumbled into a trembling heap, snapping at nothing. Tim watched as the stranger strode up to it, crouching just a couple of feet away.

“I’ll ask you again, where is Reavon?”

A low, wet sound rumbled from the creature, it took a moment for Tim to realize it was laughing. The young man instead of looking frustrated or even slightly offended, smiled. A smile disturbingly beautiful in this current moment. Before he took the creatures head, slowly and carefully twisting it off. Tim gaped in shock and horror, watching as the young man examined the head like it was an interesting object. Reaching inside and pulling out some kind of red matter. Tim couldn’t hold it in anymore and threw up.

“Well, I didn’t expect you to enjoy the sight but you have quite a weak stomach for a Gothamite.”

At that, Tim looked up in surprise, “How-?”

He attempted to scramble to his feet.

“I wouldn’t move yet, you’ve been caught in his curse,” the stranger took a step towards him, his hand reaching towards Tim, “This won’t hurt.”

“Tim!”

Suddenly, the sound of Dick’s voice calling his name brought him back to reality, he’s still on Mount Justice island, still alive. A sharp hiss like a snake brought his attention back to the stranger, his face pulled into a look of irritation. As backed up into the shadows again, his eyes turned back to Tim, giving a knowing nod and vanished. It seemed he didn’t plan on sticking around for them to question him. Tim wanted to call out, ask him to wait. Just as soon as the thought materialized, it vanished along with the stranger’s presence and his mind went blank.

Dick arrived in time to see Tim collapse back, slouching limply in a sitting position and just in time for his sharp eyes to catch part of a figure, disappear into the shadows. But his attention focused on Tim. H knelt by the boy, removing the mask.

“Hey, hey, you okay? What happened, are you hurt?”

Tim was unresponsive, numbly staring up at Nightwing’s eyes and occasionally glancing back at the mutilated monster and the space where the figure was only moments ago. Dick caught the look and followed his gaze behind him.

“Shit!” he cursed under his breath. He finally took the black mass in all its horrible detail, there’s nothing natural about it, things in places that didn’t make sense. Flesh that wasn’t really flesh at least not one kind of flesh, torn out and realized, this creature wasn’t built for survival, it was built to kill, built for fear. If the things Zatanna had told him about magic were true, he was looking at a good example of the bad kind. He checked Tim all over for any signs of injury, knowing these types they probably carried venom or worse in their bodies. Dick sighed in relief, luckily, Tim seemed fine on the outside but his eyes still stared blankly ahead, as if his mind had shut down. He had no way of helping him here, at least not out here while it was dark. They’d have to deal with any traumatic stress back at base. Sounds of leaves rustling and feet running approached and the other heroes finally caught up. Bart came to a skidding stop as he closed in on the scene, his eyes taking in the creature lying in a pool of its own blood. He replaced the mask over Tim’s eyes.

“Robin!” Connor ran up to the two, eyes widening in shock, “What the hell happened?!”

“He was attacked,” Nightwing stated bluntly, reaching into his belt.

“Yeah, I can tell! I want to know what the hell is that thing?” Connor’s voice was close to yelling his lungs out as he pointed one angry finger at the bloody mass. Which Bart was now toeing cautiously, then retreating with a shudder.

“Oh man, that’s nasty.”

“I don’t know, okay? Not exactly,” Nightwing took a swab of the substance that coated the Robin uniform, analysing it, he narrowed his eyes, “But I’ve got a gut feeling that says I need to talk to Zatanna.”

Superboy calmed down as his face settled into worry, he seemed to understand what that meant. Nightwing pocketed the sample and lifted Tim up, whispering something barely audible to the others. Tim finally nodded, blinking a few times and muttered something back, he dug the heel of his palm into his eyes.

“Is he alright?” M’gann asked, tentatively resting her hand on Tim’s shoulder, “Do I need to...take a look?”

“Not right now, let’s go back. We’ll let him rest then we can find out what happened here.”

Suddenly, something further into the distance caught his Dick’s eye. A small light, blue and shining in under the dark of the trees. He could be sure that it wasn’t there before when they passed. He paused for a moment, staring, a moment too long. Superboy’s voice snapped him back to the present.

“Here I’ll take him back,” Connor offered. Nightwing handed Tim over gratefully. The boy hung limp in Connor’s arms. He and watched for a moment while they flew away.

“Beast boy, Kid-Flash, M’gann come with me and M’gann, tell everyone you have on the telepathic network to return to base and stay there.”

When he looked, the light was gone but he had its approximate location, though the distance was uncertain. Nightwing led the group on. But was silent, no orders, no comments, just an unsettling silence even for him. M’gann watched him with concern. She could read his mind, know what he is thinking and it could help her act appropriately but he’d no straight away she used telepathy, that would be rude. She hung back a bit before deciding to speak up.

“You must be really worried, for Robin I mean. After what happened...last time, you must be terrified for him.”

Nightwing sighed, “I am, I don’t know what happened exactly, or what that thing is. But it could’ve killed him I’m sure of it. I got samples but I have a feeling it won’t answer our questions. Especially who got to him before us,” Nighwing paused, hands clenched, “M’gann, I wasn’t there, I didn’t save him. Someone did but I didn’t get there in time. If it weren’t for, I don’t know who, that thing could’ve torn him apart and I still wouldn’t make it there, to save him. Just like I couldn’t, for him”

The martian put her hand on Dick’s shoulder, “You’ve got to stop blaming yourself, you can’t be everywhere at once. I’m at fault too for not noticing. Compared to you, a lot of us have failed a lot more. I don’t want anything like last time to happen again either but blaming yourself, won’t help. We don’t even know what we’re up against.”

“Shouldn’t we?” Nightwing said a little to harshly. M’gann flinched, hurt.

“I’m sorry, you’re right, I’m letting it get to me. I just can’t be helpless, I can’t fail and lose my friends again.”

M’gann flung her arms around him, “Me too.”

“Hey guys, what’s that?” Garfield said, pointing a finger up ahead. It was the shining object again, it certainly was farther than Dick had expected, but it seemed no more and no less brighter.

“That’s what I saw earlier, could be a clue.”

“Or could be more of those things, eugh, I really don’t want to see those monster dogs up close and ready to eat us.”

As they walked towards the glowing object, the air seemed to change. A presence that pervaded all around them now, it was heavy and empty at the same time. For Dick, it almost felt like the time he walked through the cemetery at night to see his parents, an oppressive atmosphere that left him feeling empty and cold and frightened. He forced the sensation down and glanced at the rest of the team. Both Kid-Flash and Beast Boy looked twitchy, something that nagged at their every instinct while M’gann was beginning to falter, hovering closer and closer to the ground, he face scrunched up in discomfort or pain.

“Are you guys okay?”

“Don’t feel so good,” Gar said, his tone on the edge of queasiness.

“Me neither,” Bart added wobbly.

Garfield suddenly shifted into gorilla form, letting out a frustrated roar and beating his chest. For a moment, he almost seemed unable to recognise any of them, fearing an attack. Dick stepped up in front of him.

“Beast boy! Stop, hey it’s me,” he said, holding out both hands trying to calm down the disorientated shifter. Bart, wobbly on his feet had to lay down. Beast boy looked uncertainly at him, at Nightwing and M’gann who now hovered unstably above, then back at Nightwing.

“Easy there. You still with me?”

Gar nodded, finally speaking, “Yeah, yeah, sorry, just something messing with me.”

Whatever the glowing thing was, it was seemed to be affecting all but Dick. M’gann not much later couldn’t hold herself in the air anymore. She drifted just a few inches above the ground before landing unsteadily on her feet, stumbling towards Dick. He caught her just as she was about to fall, visibly in pain.

“Something is interfering with my psychic powers, it’s messing with my mind. Nightwing...”

 “Stay here, don’t come any closer, okay, stay right here all of you,” he said as he gave her over to a gorilla beast boy. The object still glowed brightly but with how it was messing with all their powers, he left the rest behind. He could feel something but if anything, it was more like pressure, like someone had put him in a pressure chamber and turned it up to eight. His legs felt like they were slogging through marsh but nothing more. When he finally walked right up to the little dot of light, it dimmed considerably. Now he could see what it was. A small stone, crystal. Blue, somewhere between a sky and deep sea. He reached down hesitantly, tapped at it. No shocks or pain, so he picked up the crystal. It fit into the palm of his hand surprisingly no bigger than a pebble when it was shining so brightly only moments ago.

He turned it over, examining it, “What is this?”

“Nightwing!” he turned to see the other three making their way towards him, visibly disturbed but no longer in pain or discomfort.

“You guys okay?”

“Yeah, whatever was messing with our powers, it’s gone now,” M’gann said.

“I think it’s this,” Nightwing held up the stone had completely stopped glowing, turning into a deep midnight color, the surface was smooth as a gem and it felt like one to. If reflected light like a crystal normally would, he would’ve thought it was some kind of gem, like the one Klarion used before in his ritual. It was shaped like an opal. Truly like a pebble, if it wasn’t glowing, he would’ve missed it. The other’s looked curiously at it too. He observed how they seemed to be perfectly at ease now around it, now that it had stopped emitting that strange light.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah, we’re fine now,” M’gann said.

“Still a bit off from feeling the mode but all good.”

“Kinda weird though, I swear something was making me to go full ape, literally. Like it was talking to my instincts, that sound weird even in my head.”

The now dormant object had lost all of the oppressive aura from earlier, slightly cold to the touch almost too cold. M’gann used her telekinesis to hold the object aloft. It didn’t react.

“Whatever it is, it seems to have stopped for now. Let’s go back, I need to see what it is and where it came from.”

[jugxbets]

ALS Chapter Two continued pt 1

Alex scoffed. Jughead noticed.

"How about you? Everything okay with you and that new girl?" He asked.

"No. She's a spoiled, bitch who'll whine if she doesn't get what she wants." Alex coldly said.

"Oh, so you hate her because she's just like you?" Jughead teased.

She playfully nudged him and laughed. "Shut up."

When she heard Moose say that Kevin was with him, she turned around to look at him to give him a wink. He nervously smiled in response.

Then she looked back at her table. Their assignment was to dissect a dead frog.

"And what are suppose to learn from doing this?" she asked, disgusted.

"I have no clue, but should be an easy A, smarty pants."

She laughed.

Then the 'living mannequins' interrupted.

"So, if you're here, does that mean you're smarter than Archie?" Ginger asked.

Alex blinked.

"What does it matter?" She shrugged.

They shrugged. "So are you guys like a thing?" Tina joined Ginger on her '21 questions' game.

Alex blushed while Jughead shuffled in his seat awkwardly.

"U-uh, no." Alex shook her head as she chuckled.

The girls smirked.

Their attention then went to Cheryl, who was cutting open a frog a little more aggressive than needed.

They gasped when they saw her stab it and move the scalpel down its body.

That caused Alex and Jughead to glance at Cheryl with their brows furrowed.

The class went on.

Jughead and Alex messed around most of the time but got the assignment done.

It was time for them to go to the rest of their classes. Most of them had the same schedule.

Then it was lunch time. Betty, Kevin, Alex, and Veronica were walking across the football field with their lunches in their arms.

"So, what did Moose want?" Veronica asked, taking the words out of Alex's mouth as she was about to ask the same thing.

"Oh, my god, I don't even think he knows." Kevin admitted.

The girls giggled.

He went on to talk about Moose. Alex was annoyed by the fact at how everyone was forgiving Veronica so quickly.

"Okay, well, I ship it." Veronica chuckled.

"Well, of course, you would. You're a big city girl with loose morals."

Alex snickered. She loved how shady Kevin could be.

Then he continued to talk about Moose.

"...part of me wishes he would just stay in the darn closet." Kevin absentmindedly said.

Alex cringed. Probably shouldn't have said closet, she thought.

It got awkward real fast. Especially when he tried to clarify that he didn't mean a literal closet.

Alex went around the table to sit next to Archie.

"Archie!" Veronica basically shouted.

Alex glared at her.

"Any new material you wanna try out in a very forgiving audience?" She asked.

"Not all of us are forgiving." Alex pointed out with a smirk.

Veronica's face went blank.

"I..." Archie began to protest.

"Please?" Veronica pleaded.

"Would you? I'd love to hear it." Betty said as she put in her best smile.

Alex sighed. She desperately wanted to change the subject.

"Give me the guitar." Alex said as she put her hands out.

"Why?" Archie questioned as he passed it to her.

"I'll play, you sing." She said, strumming the guitar. It threw her off.

"Okay, first of all, this is out of tune."

He chuckled. She tuned it and made Archie proceed with his song.

He grabbed his journal. "I'm still working on the lyrics, so..." he made sure everybody knew.

"Yeah, yeah, get on with it." Alex said, ready to play.

She began strumming the guitar. Archie started to sing.

He barely got through the chorus when Alex noticed that Betty was crying.

Kevin and Veronica clapped when he finished.

"Betty, are you okay?" Alex asked concerned.

Then everyone else looked at her.

She let out a humorless chuckle.

"I'm supposed to say, 'yes.' That's what the nice girl always but.." she said, as her voice broke. She got up. "No, I'm not. I want to be, I thought I could be. But it's too much, too fast."

"Archie.." she sobbed.

"Betty.." Archie sympathetically said.

She walked off.

Alex nudged Archie. "Go after her, idiot."

He put his journal down and did what his sister told him to.

Both Kevin and Alex glared at Veronica. It filled her with guilt.

"Guys, how many times do I have to say I'm sorry?" She desperately asked.

"Until Betty believes you." Alex hissed.

She put Archie's guitar down and stormed off.

She went inside. She wandered down the empty halls. Everyone's lunch period was at this time so no one was really present in the hallways at the moment.

Her mood changed when she walked by Jason's locker. It changed from mild anger to complete sadness. It was surrounded by cards, candles, and flowers. She tried not to let her feel any kind of sympathy for the Blossoms but it was hard to do that now that it's been clarified that he was murdered.

She sighed heavily as she thought about him.

She continued walking towards her locker. She needed her books for her last class.

"You miss me?" She heard a familiar voice say.

She turned around only to see Chuck.

She smiled. "Of course."

He reached in for a kiss, which she returned. He pulled her closer to him by her tiny waist.

He pushed her against the lockers gently.

She grunted when her back hit the cool metal. She smirked while her lips were still intertwined with his.

He pulled back, still keeping her body in place.

"Come to my house later?" He smirked. "My dad'll be working late."

She hesitated to answer. She knew what he wanted and she wasn't sure she was going to give it to him.

It had only been a few weeks but she was crushing on him hard. He told her he felt the same but that they couldn't date because his father wouldn't allow it with it being football season and all. So he convinced her to keep their "fooling around" a secret.

"Um, I'll have to see. I might have homework, so..." she trailed off.

He chuckled. "You can say no if you don't want to."

"No, I do." She nervously chuckled. "I'll go. After cheer practice.”

He smiled. "See you then."

He pecked her on the lips before walking off.

She went back to her locker and closed it.

Weatherbee snuck up behind her.

"Alexandria."

She gasped as she turned around to face him.

"Yes?" She responded.

"Can I talk to you about your brother for a moment?" He asked.

"Uh, sure." She said as her eyebrows furrowed.

"Let's step into my office."

She nodded. He lead the way.

She had just been there this morning, what did he want?

He cleared his throat once they were sitting across each other.

"Has Archibald been acting weird lately?" Weatherbee got right into it.

Alex was taken back by his question. She raised an eyebrow as she tried to recall.

"No, not that I've noticed." She shrugged.

"Hm." He hummed. "Do you think he might know anything about Jason's death?"

Alex hesitated to answer. Every time she asked or talking to him about it, he would get weird and quickly change the subject. She covered for him out of instinct

"Uh, no." Her brows furrowed. "What makes you say that?"

He shrugged. "I'm just trying to figure out the whole situation, is all."

Alex nodded. "I think we all are."

"Agreed. Thank you for your time. You can head to class." His hand gestured towards the door.

She nodded and headed out.

She went to her last class. She couldn't concentrate though. She had too many questions to ask Archie. Was he a suspect?

She spent the whole period thinking about it.

Then it was time for cheer rehearsal. Cheryl seemed very stressed and overwhelmed.

Alex did what Cheryl asked her to in order not to get into a fight with her. Alex helped her choreograph the squad, like agreed.

She thought the whole dance was good, but she felt like something was missing.

"You're right about that, little Andrews." Cheryl said as she observed her squad from a far.

The only reason she obeyed Cheryl's demands was because she would rather do that than to listen to Veronica and Betty argue.

"Stand down, vixens." Cheryl interrupted. "And listen up."

She went on about how the squad was letting her down.

She mentioned that everyone's attention would be in her and that they would be waiting for her to breakdown. She said she wouldn't.

"..I need start power, like Alex here, suggested."

"Well, I didn't real—" Alex began.

"I need the Pussycats." Cheryl cut her off.

"Stay loose and limber, ladies, while I make a call." She shouted.

Alex went to a corner, that Veronica and Betty happened to be in. She took a sip of her water and began to stretch.

She heard Veronica talk about how psychotic the way Cheryl was grieving was. Betty shaded her by saying she wasn't putting on an act, implying that Veronica was.

"For the record, I only went into that closet with Archie, so that Cheryl wouldn't."

Alex rolled her eyes. She couldn't help but overhear their already sparked up argument. She thought about interjecting but she didn't want to hear any more of Veronica's lies.

"It is not my fault he doesn't like you." Veronica snapped.

"If that's what you were thinking.." she quickly added.

The rest of what she said, Alex sort of agreed. She was still a bitch though.

Their argument got more heated by the minute until Cheryl interrupted them.

Alex kept minding her own business while she stretched.

She overheard Betty inviting Cheryl to get mani pedis and blowouts after school. That was to purposely get under Veronica's skin.

Then they walked off.

Veronica turned to Alex.

"You wanna yell at me too?"

"Do not start with me." Alex warned.

She sighed.

Alex rolled her eyes. "I overheard. I agreed with most of the things you said. But again, you did NOT have to go into the closet with Archie. Even if Cheryl went in with him, she would be angry at her, not at you."

Veronica nodded. She rubbed her face with her hands in frustration as she groaned.

"Just give her time. You're forcing it." Alex mentioned.

Veronica nodded.

Rehearsals ended. Alex checked her phone. She had a message from Chuck.

From Chuck:

Can't wait to see you.

She smiled.

She grabbed her stuff and headed out the doors.

She began walking to Chuck's house. It wasn't that far but it wasn't as close as her house was.

She arrived and rang the doorbell.

He greeted her and welcomed her inside.

They headed up to their room where they began the making out on his bed.

They've gotten to this point before but she always stopped when she feared it would go too far. This time she wasn't sure she cared.

His hand, that was on her thigh, started to wander up her short shorts. She whimpered at his touch.

Their session got hotter by the minute.

He started yanking her shorts down.

Alex stopped kissing him.

"What are you doing?" She nervously asked.

"Don't worry." He kissed her neck. "I'll be gentle."

She hesitantly nodded and continued to kiss him.

When he took her shorts off, she starting pulling at his shirt. He took the hint and pulled it off, reconnecting their lips as he got it off.

He was on top of her. Her legs were spread out, whereas he was at her entrance. She felt his bulge as he occasionally pressed himself against her. The contact would make her whimper, wanting more.

She took her shirt off as well. Her hands trailed down to his belt and zipper as she unbuckled and unzipped his jeans. Her hands ran along his very visible bulge. He moaned softly when he felt her petite hands where he needed her the most.

She was a bit nervous because he was quite big. She decided she didn't care and proceed to pull his underwear down, not taking them off completely.

He took her panties off and finally, he placed himself at her entrance.

They both moaned softly at the contact.

"You're so wet." He grunted as he kept pressing himself against her.

she moaned in response. she was shaky and kinda nervous because they were going to fast but she didn’t wanna ruin the moment.

"Do you want it?" He seductively asked, as he placed his arms on either side of her head, kissing her neck.

"Y-yes." She breathlessly moaned.

"Tell me. Tell me you do." He continued to kiss her neck.

"I-I want it. I want it so bad." She said with so much lust and need in her voice.

He gripped her waist with both of his hands and gently, like he promised, placed himself inside of her.

Her brows knit together as she felt all of him inside of her. She let out a loud moan once he was all in.

He snapped his hips back and forth, meeting hers. Her breaths were ragged and short. He was grunting the whole time, which turned Alex on more.

His hand ran along her stomach and starting rubbing her clit, causing her to moan louder.

"What's my name?" Chuck suddenly grunted.

Alex just moaned in response.

"I said," he said, grabbing her in a light chokehold, "what's my name?" He growled.

She swore she could've melted in his grip right there and then.

"C-Chuck." She moaned

Chuck moaned as he kept going, and faster. He was about to finish and so was she.

"Scream it." He demanded.

She was getting closer and closer with every stroke he made.

One last stroke and she screamed his name. That made him finish right there and then as well.

He rested his forehead against hers, trying to catch his breath. She was breathing quick too.

He extracted himself from her and laid beside her.

Alex was still trying to catch her breath. She knew she would be sore after this.

Chuck pulled his underwear and jeans up. He zipped and buckled them back up.

Alex sat up and started putting her clothes back on.

"You were great for your first time." Chuck admitted.

o-oh. he thought it was my first time.

Alex chuckled nervously and went along with it. "Thanks, I guess."

"Are you sore?" He asked leaning in for a kiss, which Alex gave to him.

"A little, but I'll be okay." She chuckled once again.

"Alright. Do you think you'll be good to walk home?" My dad's gonna get here soon." He casually said as he put his shirt back on.

What? That was it?

"U-uh, yeah, I guess so.." she stammered.

Chuck laid back down and pulled out his phone to go through his socials.

"Cool." Was all he said.

She got her bag and left.

She was sort of limping when she was walking but it went away after a couple of blocks.

She couldn't help but think that Chuck just used her. She felt her eyes well up with tears. She decided to fight them and not let them stream down her face.

She took a deep breath, and told herself everything would be okay.

She got home and saw Jughead, and Archie having a little argument outside.

"What? What are you gonna do?" Jughead asked, tempting Archie.

That was the only thing she overheard.

"Uh, is everything okay?" Alex carefully asked.

"Everything's fine." Archie didn't hesitate to answer her question.

Jughead just glared at him. They didn't break eye contact once.

"O-okay." She shook her head. "Hi, Jug."

"Hi." He bitterly responded. The bitterness wasn't intended for her but it came out that way anyway.

Then Fred stepped outside.

"Hey, Jug. Coming in?" Fred offered. "We got take-out from Pop's."

"He was just leaving." Archie answered for him.

"Archie." Alex scoffed.

Jughead scrunched his face up and walked away.

Archie went inside and Alex followed.

"Why are you home so late?" Fred asked Alex.

"I had cheer practice." She lied.

"I was just with Veronica." Archie said as his brows furrowed.

She stammered. "Oh- uh- with Cheryl. Just Cheryl. She asked me to help her choreograph so.."

Archie narrowed his eyes.

"And what the hell is up with you?" Fred continued to ask Archie.

"Nothing. I lost my appetite." Archie said, walking out of the kitchen to climb the stairs.

Alex scoffed and followed him.

She barged into his room.

"What the hell, Alex, knock fir—"

She cut him off. "Why have you been acting so weird?"

It caught him off guard.

"Why is Weatherbee asking me if I think you know anything about Jason's death? Hm?" She hummed when she got no response.

"A-And you're fighting with Jughead now? I mean seriously, what the fuck is going on?"

He looked away, shameful. “I-i don't know what to say to you.." He finally said after a moment of silence.

Alex let out a humorless chuckle. "Of course. That's perfect. That's just the fucking cherry on top."

She stormed off and went into her room, slamming the door. She felt betrayed because she kept covering for Archie whenever he needed it and there was something he wasn't telling her. Something is going on, she knows it.

She threw herself on her bed and screamed in frustration into her pillow.

Then something hit her. A thought: Chuck didn't wear a condom.

"FUCK!" She screamed into the pillow.

She sat up and starting to come up with a plan. She needed a plan b pill. Asap.

She thought about calling Betty, to ask her to get it for her but she knew she wouldn't. If her mother found it, she would kill them both.

Then she thought about Kevin but he's the type to blurt things out. She couldn't let him know.

There was no way she would ask her dad or Archie, or even Jughead.

It came down to one person.

She dialed their number.

Alex? I think you got the wrong phone number.

"N-no, i dialed it correctly. This is Veronica, right?" Her voice sounded shaky.

"I could really use your help.." Alex's voice broke.

what happened? Are you hurt?

“Nothing like that.. can you just do me a huge favor?”

[goldkirk]

Hello! Big fan of your work! I noticed in the cw of chapter twelve of hymn, it says something along the lines of unreliable narrator. Would you mind telling us what was happening while Tim had his episode or would that be spoilery? Thank you for helping us stay happy during quarantine. You’re amazing.

Yessss I would be happy to!!! For anyone who hasn’t read chapter 12 yet, stop now, spoilers ahead. (Sorry I cant do a read more I’m on the app)

So Tim loses it in the kitchen, and initially it’s just a breakdown because he’s so frustrated and feeling weird and hasn’t been processing any of the emotions or experiences from recent weeks and it’s starting to hit. This is on top of his hours earlier Worrying and Stressing about what Bruce is doing or concerned about and also worry about Jason who has hardly been around that week. So basically Tim was having a dam-burst emotions moment and flew out of control into a tailspin.

But THEN while his emotions are SO BIG and he’s that upset and overwhelmed, Bruce says something just close enough to something Ra’s said while Tim was in a similar state of thought/emotion/panic of helplessness and frustration and anger and it makes Tim start blurring the present (kitchen, drywall, Bruce) and a flashback (expecting someone to come in, being afraid of contact, pain and being wet and having no clue what happens next), and Tim’s bouncing and half stuck between the two and ends up running for his room because he’s still with it enough to know he goes there and it’s HIS space and he can be safe.

But the problem is that his brain comes with him too, so he gets there and he’s aware it’s his room, and where his things are, but he’s tangled in the emotions and headspace of the flashback so he feels a need to barricade himself in. He has the certainty that someone will come to hurt him and take him out, so he’s trying to prevent that. And then Bruce and the others do make it up there and do try to coax him out, but it freaks tim out more because Now They’ll Be So Mad that Tim resisted, right. So Tim panics a lot more, AND he’s got general emotional overload and stuff at the moment, and it’s a bad time all around.

So he’s just doing things without even meaning to trying to get emotions out, breaking stuff, throwing trying to get it out, all very physical because he’s not in his upper brain anymore and wayyyyy past words, and he’s just adrenaline and overwhelm and panic and terror may that point. But he’s still safe—

Until someone comes in through the window, which he didn’t expect, which makes him lose the very last shred of his grasp of who he’s looking at bc he’s still crying and blurry anyway.

He’s just afraid. He’s overwhelmingly afraid and knows that whatever’s coming is bad and going to hurt and he doesn’t want it and he’s scared and it’s bad.

The person who came in is Bruce—he climbed out the neighboring window and jimmied Tim’s from the outside, then slid in. But Tim thinks he’s an enemy and tries to fight. So Bruce takes some hits and tries to put Tim in one of the simplest restraint holds, but Tim drops down and Bruce doesn’t want to risk Tim injuring himself from both of them being at a bad angle. But Tim IS a danger to himself at this point, because he’s hurled himself into furniture, scratched at his own skin, and isn’t being careful witj his own safety while trying to fight Bruce or throw things, so Bruce is trying to straddle the line of not pinning him down but not letting himself hurt himself either. So he waits, to see if he can get Tim a little calmer and then hold him in a hug basically, like they’ve done sometimes.

Tim is too freaked out and blurry to register it as Bruce, though and can only think about needing to escape the danger, and so his brain goes hey there’s a viable option. And then Bruce has no choice left but to snag Tim and pin him indefinitely (but safely, and on top of him rather than the hardwood) while they both are on the floor away from hard objects, because Tim was about to hurl himself straight out of a non-ground-floor window, which is a HEART STOPPING MOMENT for poor Bruce.

Dick, who Bruce called for backup, slides in the window too after Bruce has Tim safely restrained, and then Tim continues to struggle and fight for a while while Bruce holds him the whole time until he finally runs out of steam and suddenly realizes what’s actually going on after the terror and urgency dies down a little. He registers Dick first as Robin, safe, before he goes oh it’s Dick, and then he realizes it’s Bruce holding him, and then the chapter is reliably narrated from there.

HOWEVER, I also put the unreliable narrator warning up for things Tim says about himself too, because he does a lot of self-victim-blaming in this chapter that’s wrong. He’s not a failure for not being able to escape or get Damian out, or for not being able to eat properly, or for anything else. That’s his injured and trying-its-best brain giving him false info that isn’t right, and I don’t want anyone thinking he is right on that even if, from his perspective, it all sounds and feels like reasonable thought processes.

Hopefully that all makes sense!

[bodytoflame-ao3]

born for this // one

When she finally feels the exhaustion drift over her, it’s overwhelming; like the entire weight of the day’s been dropped on her at once. In a way, it has. She’s here now, this is real. Not just the stories her parents told to her, or vague bursts of imagination from brief visits.

As hard as she tries, she can’t shake the feeling of anger in the pit of her stomach — exactly for what, she’s not sure.

or, a next-generation fic following the lives of Percy and Annabeth, and Piper and Jason's children, and a prophecy.

AO3 Link

--

okay. so this is my first attempt in a very very very long time at a multichapter fic. i have absolutely 0 clue how long this is going to be or how fast i'm going to be able to update. but here it is. my take on a next generation fic. in which jason is alive because i said so.

this one goes out to @officialpjo for encouraging this mess

i //

Piper McLean never thought she’d be alive at 18, much less pregnant.

“I don’t know what to do.”

It’s three in the morning, but Annabeth’s still here for her. She’ll always be grateful for that. She rubs her back, and for a moment, it’s like everything is okay. She’ll speak her wisdom and that will be it. Instead (and Piper knew deep down it would turn out this way) she says; “Piper, that’s something you have to decide for yourself. You know that.”

And that’s not very helpful — but it’s true. “I just thought everything was finally going back to normal.” It was. She’d gone back to school and was about to graduate, even got accepted into a few colleges (not that she was sure she’d even go). “What if there’s another prophecy?”

Annabeth stays silent.

“I can’t bring a baby into the world like that, Annabeth. I won’t!” It would put both of our lives in danger.

“Then you don’t have to,” she replies softly, resting her hand on Piper’s shoulder.

“I do, Gods, I want to.” Piper wipes the tears from her eyes, “That makes me sound so stupid.” It was stupid to want to have a baby when she could be pulled into a war at any moment. But this is a chance to make something with her life — something mundane; normal.

Annabeth reassures her, though Piper isn’t sure how much she believes it, “No. It doesn’t; you’re not. You were as safe as you could be.”

Piper tries not to yell, not at Annabeth at least, but her emotions get the best of her this time. “I don’t want you to tell me it’s not my fault, I want you to tell me he won’t hate me!”

“I can’t do that.”

“Then lie!”

She doesn’t acknowledge the outburst, knowing it comes from a place of frustration, not directed at her but the cruel irony of the world (and how familiar she is with that herself). She simply offers a piece of hope; knowing nothing is certain, but it could be. “It’ll be okay.”

Piper lets the silence wash over them for a minute. “What would you do?” She asks, genuinely curious.

“I’ve always wanted a family,” she admits, fiddling with her wedding ring. Of course she does. That's all she's ever wanted. “But it would still be scary.”

“I have to tell him,” Piper says after a moment. He’s just as much a part of this as she is, and he deserves to know, no matter what she decides. And she knows — she knows what she wants, and it’s this.

Annabeth is unflinching. “I’ll come with you, okay?”

“Hold my hand?”

“Yeah.”

Annabeth does; all the way back to their apartment, up the stairs, into the living room, onto the couch, across from him.

“We have to talk,” Piper says, firm, but gentle.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Jason asks, a puzzled look on his face.

“No.” She shares a knowing glance with Annabeth, knowing what it looks like, and suppresses a laugh. Though, in all honesty, they both know if by some coincidence they both ended up single, it wouldn’t be a question, and they’d both know the answer.

“I’ll be right outside if you need me.” Annabeth squeezes her hand tight before she leaves, and then, it’s just them.

“Pipes. You’re killing me.”

She reaches into her pocket and hands him the test, unsure if she could even get the words out of her mouth.

“Oh.” He pauses. “Do you—”

“I’m keeping it,” she answers.

“Hey.” Jason wraps his arms around her. “We’ll be okay.”

ii //

Annabeth storms into her room, barely knocking before she opens the door. “I think I’m pregnant.” She says it, quiet, almost nonchalant. It’s hard for Piper to decipher the look on her face; somewhere between dissociated and awed. But most definitely a little scared.

“I thought you were on the pill?” Piper asks.

She nods.

“So why do you—”

“—I don’t know. I just feel… off.” Annabeth cuts her off, rambling. “It’s possible.”

“Unlikely,” Piper adds.

Annabeth emphasizes, “But possible.”

She knows Annabeth wants this, but she has no clue what Percy’s stance on kids is. To be completely honest, he seems to Piper like the kind of guy who wouldn’t care as long as Annabeth was happy. “Have you two talked about wanting—”

“No… not yet, but...”

“But you do want—”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do,” she admits. She does, and she will, no matter what. It’s permanent — a concrete legacy, that will last as long as the circle of life keeps spinning. And isn’t that what she wanted? It may not be exactly what she imagined, but the thought of it makes her want to cry. With Percy, doing better than her parents ever could, because he’d surely learn from the best; knowing this child would grow up with people who care. Immensely. Deeply. Parents who know what it’s like.

Annabeth wipes a tear from the corner of her eye, composing herself. “I bought a test, I just… I wanted you to be here.” She sighs, and opens the box from her bag, tossing the cardboard in the trash along with a packet of pills from her bag.

Piper pulls them out of the bin, scoffing, “You might still need these.”

She shakes her head, “I already know what it’s going to say, Piper. I just have a feeling.”

“Is it… a good feeling?” she offers.

“I don’t know yet. I hope so.”

iii //

“Is something wrong?” Percy asks, sitting down next to Annabeth on the couch. “You seem off,” he offers. She’s been distant all week, and it scares him. He knows what that distance feels like, the kinds of storms that brew up in their minds.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Annabeth says, because it's not — but it is scary. “I do need to talk to you though. Ask you something.”

He looks at her expectantly.

“Do you want kids?” she asks, a nervous edge lacing her voice. It's something they've never talked about, and she really wishes they had, if it would make this moment easier. In all honesty, she has absolutely no clue what she’ll say if he doesn’t; and his hesitance is no reassurance. Because she does; now more than ever, now that it’s real.

Percy considers his answer. He does. Not desperately; distantly. Not so much that he would have a problem if she didn’t. “Um, yeah. Do you—”

“Percy.” She stops him, because it’s all she needs to hear. “I’m pregnant.”

The look on his face turns from confusion to awe as he processes her revelation. It’s a moment before he speaks again, softly: “Really?”

She nods.

“Wow.” His hand finds her stomach, unable to feel a difference but struck with wonder with this new knowledge. He’s always wondered what it would be like to start a family with her, but for all the daydreaming he’s done, none of it compares. “When did you find out?”

She stares out the window, leaning into him. “Two weeks ago. I didn’t have any good reason to suspect it, I just… had a feeling?”

“Does anyone else know?” He has a feeling he's not the first person she's told. Two weeks is a long time, bottling up something that big.

“Piper.” She ran to her the second the thought popped into her mind. It was only fair — she’d helped Piper when it was her. Piper held her hand while she waited, and hugged her as long as she needed.

Percy analyzes her nerve-wracked expression. “Just Piper?”

Annabeth frowns, looking at him with a gaze that’s trying too hard to be apologetic. “No, I… I told your mom, too. I’m sorry,” she says, bursting out laughing, and trying to hold the tears back. It’s expected by now, but somehow still funny how untraditional they are. “I was freaking out and she’s kind of the best motherly figure I’ve got. But she’s thrilled — if that helps.”

“Oh, thank the gods,” he sighs, laughing, “No, no, I think I would die of embarrassment if I had to tell her myself.”

“Well, then you’re welcome… and you owe me.”

“When do I not?” Percy smiles, wrapping his arms around her.

“I know this wasn’t what you expected — me either — but this is the best I’ve felt in a long time. I’m actually happy, Percy,” she sighs, so weary from the world and how it’s beaten her up before. This almost feels like a blessing, even if it isn’t one she planned for.

“No, no, so am I, I just don’t… how? We’re careful.” Incredibly so. He doesn’t want to dwell on the odds of it.

“I mean, nothing’s perfect. To have two different methods fail, though… that’s either just terrible luck or godly interference.” At this point, it doesn’t matter which.

“I feel pretty lucky right now.” No; odds are… he’s the luckiest person in the world.

“Yeah?” Annabeth asks, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“I couldn’t think of anything I want more, Annabeth.” Now that it's right in front of him, he knows that.

iv //

“How is she?”

“Asleep. Both of them.” Piper nods her head towards them; Percy clinging to Annabeth as much as he can in the tiny hospital bed. She winces, seeing the position he’s folded himself into, knowing too well how sore he’ll be in the morning. “Estelle was getting antsy so Sally took her home.”

Jason sits down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“I still can’t believe she walked across the stage at graduation nearly nine months pregnant. I barely left the bed.” It was as much a physical feat as it was an ode to her determination.

“Don’t I know that,” he scoffs jokingly.

It hits Piper that she’s never seen Annabeth this happy. Even the day they got married. And then — she had thought the same thing. It’s something she could get used to; seeing her best friend overwhelmingly happy, with the love of her life, and knowing she has everything she’s ever wanted.

Lyra stirs in her arms, wriggling her tiny limbs within the blanket swaddling her. Piper smiles, shushing her before she even starts to cry. “Don’t you miss when he was little?” She asks, curled up awkwardly in the uncomfortable chair, but cradling the baby in her arms so gently.

Jason’s blunt, yet misinformed response: “Pipes, he’s still a toddler. He’s like half your height.”

She laughs, “This tiny. So tiny you’re amazed it’s even a person. When he could fall asleep in our arms.”

“Huh,” his face softens into a smile, “I guess… wow, he was so small when he was born. Smaller than her.”

“I can’t wait to do it all again.”

“Wait—”

Piper smiles.

He speaks, quieter this time, trying not to wake Percy and Annabeth, “You’re serious?”

She nods, “Yeah. Yeah. I found out this morning. Then Percy called, and it’s just been chaos since then. She doesn’t even know yet.”

Piper can tell it means a lot to him, being the first to know, like it’s a secret between them — secrets were inevitably reserved for Annabeth, as they’d been before.

“I love you. A lot.”

“A lot?” She hums, teasing.

“The most.”

Part Two

[mobius-prime]

251. Sonic the Hedgehog #182

Fallen Angel

Writer: Ian Flynn Pencils: Tracy Yardley! Colors: Jason Jensen

The familiar face of Knuckles addresses the Freedom Fighters and Chaotix as Enerjak, inviting them to follow him so he can lead them into a peaceful, happy new world free of technology. Sure, the whole "no more pain and suffering" thing sounds great, but Nicole rightfully points out that it was technology that allowed her to become a living being, and Julie-Su reminds him of how badly things went before when he had access to this much power, begging him to come back to her. Enerjak merely frowns in disappointment and informs them that he'll demonstrate his power to all of them to prove he's in the right.

So do you guys remember how, during the original M25YL arc, we learned that nearly everything in that future came about because Knuckles once again went all Chaos-y, and tried to "remake Mobius as he saw fit," which included forcibly taking away Julie-Su's cybernetics? And how for some unfathomable reason, after all that, she elected to stay with him and didn't seem to harbor him any ill will for essentially forcing his own bodily ideals onto her without her consent, literally changing parts of her body against her will? Yeah, this is precisely why I have such a problem with Kenders having made that the backstory for future Knuckles. Despite her distaste for the Legion, Julie-Su clearly has no intention of getting rid of her cybernetic parts, and in fact rather likes them. Here in this situation, she's rather traumatized by Enerjak's attempt to "liberate" her from her cybernetics, and has to be handed off to Mighty so Sonic can continue the fight against Enerjak. Before the fight can go much further, with Sonic calling Enerjak by all sorts of mocking puns on his name, none other than Shadow enters the fray! Turns out he's working for G.U.N. now, and is the agent that Rouge sent to help out. Enerjak is enraged as Sonic jumps back into the fight, calling him by yet another mocking nickname.

This page is one of my prime examples for exactly why I love Ian's writing of Sonic so much. Shadow begins unleashing ridiculous amounts of Chaos energy, making Nicole struggle to hold all the nanites in place so the city doesn't get destroyed by the raw power, and she points out worriedly that since she doesn't have enough power to maintain the energy shield, they're wide open for an attack from Eggman. Her fears aren't unfounded, either - at that exact moment, Eggman is watching the proceedings while Snively works on an "improvement" to his last few remaining Egg Grapes, surprised to see Shadow there. Apparently, it wasn't Enerjak scrambling New Mobotropolis' communications after all - it was Eggman, deliberately trying to make it seem like everyone has abandoned the fight for freedom and having outright lied to Sonic during the attack on Knothole about the world turning their backs on the Freedom Fighters. I mean, granted, we kind of knew that wasn't true already, considering the group we know as "the Freedom Fighters" are just the Knothole (now New Mobotropolis) chapter. As Eggman launches his fleet towards the city, Shadow continues his fight against Enerjak, but even his substantial fighting ability isn't enough to take him down. Somewhere along the line, Enerjak's helmet is knocked off, and Sonic is surprised and disturbed to see that Enerjak is in fact Knuckles, not having realized such until now. Despite his misgivings, he and the rest of the Freedom Fighters and Chaotix charge forward to take on Enerjak as one, but Enerjak, thoroughly angered by now, merely freezes everyone in place effortlessly with Chaos energy.

Oh boy, one of those "we must burn this world to make room for the new order" types! Sonic calls out to Enerjak, trying to reach the true Knuckles within, but Enerjak coldly insists there's nothing anyone can do to make him change his mind. However, Eggman would like to contest that statement! He shows up in his Egg Fleet and overwhelms Enerjak's attempt to resist with an extra-strong teleportation beam, taking him directly to the center of the Egg Grapes for energy extraction. Eggman, projecting a hologram of himself onto the ground, cheerfully reminds Sonic of their "deal," and is unfazed when Sonic angrily tells him that kidnapping Knuckles wasn't supposed to be part of that deal. As the Egg Fleet leaves the city, Sonic tries to rally everyone for a rescue plan, but Sally heads him off, saying that as much as they don't want to leave Knuckles in the hands of Eggman, rescuing him would only unleash Enerjak onto the world again. Before Sonic and Julie-Su can argue the point, a warp ring portal suddenly opens up and a hand drags the two of them through it, depositing them onto Angel Island with no warning.

Well, I suppose Locke isn't the worst person to be kidnapped by. He informs them that after Enerjak's last rampage, he and the rest of the Brotherhood designed a weapon to be used against him should he ever return. Sonic is eager to go get this weapon to turn Knuckles back to normal, but Locke clarifies - this is a killing weapon. If they use it, Knuckles won't survive the process. And he intends to use it anyway. …I take it back, there are definitely better people to be kidnapped by than Locke.

Albion's Shameful Secret

Writer: Ian Flynn Pencils: Tracy Yardley! Colors: Jason Jensen

So, how did Locke find out about what was going on? Well, if his island suddenly blowing up wasn't enough of a clue, turns out he was visiting Albion not long ago, only to find it a ruined, abandoned wasteland. There, he watched a video recording by none other than Gala-Na, who explained the true nature of Finitevus. Once upon a time, he was an ordinary, promising young scientist within the city, and in fact was the one who came up with the technical side of the plan to contain Green Knuckles' power a year ago. He was the one in the suit that the Chaos Syphon was connected to, and received the full brunt of the energy wave that Knuckles unleashed that day.

Why am I not surprised that Gala-Na of all people would scoff at such a thing? Extremist one moment, slothful the next. Finitevus started going power-mad and using dark energies in his experiments, and eventually was deemed so dangerous that Gala-Na called for his execution. Goddamn, woman, you'd think she'd have learned from the last time she tried to "neutralize" someone imbued with insane amounts of power without their consent! Predictably, Finitevus escaped, and when he returned he had the entire Egg Fleet behind him, having betrayed Albion's location to Eggman. This is where the recording ends, as Gala-Na recorded her spiel during the invasion, and ended the video by begging whoever might find her message not to repeat her mistakes as her people were captured and killed around her. Great, even more systematic erasure of Kenders' echidna-related worldbuilding by Ian! Seriously, Ian, I know Kenders was kind of a dick, but you could at the very least not kill off 99% of the entire echidna population in the process of fixing his mistakes.

Well, good to know that the various ex-Legionnaires and Echidnaopolis refugees have come together, and that Remington is back in his right mind! And looks like Gala-Na is gone for good. Normally I might have said "good riddance," but the Egg Grapes are a torture I wouldn't wish on anyone, so, uh… bye then, I guess? Sorry, Gala-Na, but I really just can't bring myself to care that much about you.

[thepurplebutterflythings]

Kitty Cat & Tweety Bird (Part 7) - Jason Todd

Gif: Oliverbruce3 on Tenor

Word Count: 3K

Paring: Jason Todd (Titans) x (f)Reader

Summary: After the truth regarding her paternity is revealed to Y/N, Bruce and Selina hash it out.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: This is a little series I am doing about Jason Todd in Titans. I don’t know Comic!Jason very well so I’m taking all of this from the show, and at the moment he hasn’t been in very often, so please forgive any mischaracterizations.

Tagging: @bella-0104-123 @ninergirl1d @httpfandxms @rosybrock @attackonnat @reclusive-chicken-nugget   @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @young-psychos @thesleepykaijuu @thescottpack @nightlygiggles @rougestorms @sinon36

Kitty Cat & Tweety Bird Part 6 | Masterlist | Kitty Cat & Tweety Bird Part 8

________________________________________________________________

There was an uncomfortable silence that hung in the air of Wayne Manor as they waited to see where Bruce went and what Y/N had said which affected him so much. Occasionally, someone would try to talk, saying a throw away comment, but that didn’t help. None of them could think clearly, all preoccupied with thinking about what happened.

Y/N and Jason sat side by side in the dining room, holding hands and looking at the ground in silence. Had Y/N just said something which cost her the position at Wayne Enterprises?

“I’m sure this is all easily explained,” Jason said quietly.

“You think?” Y/N sighed, “We don’t even know what caused it.”

“Hey, Alfred said this was nothing to do with you!” Jason stroked Y/N’s hair.

“I can’t help but feel responsible though,” she confessed, “I don’t know why…”

“This is not how the night should have gone,” Jason shook his head. “This was supposed to be your big night, with good food, good friends and good news, and then Bruce goes and fucks it up.”

“I just wish I knew what I said that upset him so bad.”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you really think this has something to do with my mum?”

“Maybe…” Jason said with a shrug, “do they know each other?”

“I mean…” she sighed, “Mum knows he’s Batman…”

“You know that?”

“Kinda…” Y/N gave a weak smile, “plus, I mean, even if Mum didn’t know, I’d probably suspect it after knowing you were Robin…”

“Right,” Jason chuckled a little, “I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re not,” Y/N gave a proper smile, playfully pushing Jason’s shoulder.

“There’s your smile,” Jason cupped her cheek, “that lovely smile.”

“Thanks, Jason,” she said softly as she leaned into his touch.

“Can you explain to me how Selina Kyle knows Bruce Wayne is Batman?”

“No fucking clue!” Y/N admitted. “Honestly, I’ve learnt not to question how mum knows things. It’s easier on the mind.”

Before they could continue the front door of Wayne Manor flung open with such force that it. Jason and Y/N leapt to their feet and ran to the hallway, and Alfred strolled from the kitchen. Bruce and Selina both barrelled into Wayne Manor, both looking furious, but for different reasons. They were arguing as they were walking. Selina dropped her bag on the floor as Bruce slammed the door.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS SELINA -” “WELL MAYBE IF YOU KEPT YOUR NOSE OUT OF OTHER PEOPLES BUSINESS-” “OTHER PEOPLES BUSINESS? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? THIS IS ENTIRELY MY BUSINESS!”

They hadn’t even noticed Y/N and Jason standing there as they argued and cursed each other out. The argument between Bruce and Selina didn’t clear up the air about what was happening, it only complicated things. How Bruce and Selina bounced off one another and spoke to each other made Y/N and Jason think there was much, much more going on that they didn’t know about. Only people who knew each other spoke like they did, but where could they have met before all of this? Why were they arguing? What set this off?

“Mum?” Y/N said, frowning in confusion. The adults stopped arguing and turned to look at Y/N with unreadable expressions which unnerved Y/N to her very core. She stepped back and looked them up and down, trying to read their minds. “What’s going on?”

“Seriously, Bruce, walking out like that was really dick-ish,” Jason said, but he was ignored as the adults just stared at Y/N. Bruce slowly walked up to Y/N and slowly outstretched a shaking hand towards her, hesitantly stroking her hair, causing Y/N to pull a face and step back. He looked at Y/N as though just seeing her for the first time. Selina, who was just behind Bruce, was physically trying to hold herself back from stopping Bruce’s movements with a tense expression. There wasn’t much that could scare Selina Kyle.

“Bruce?” Y/N frowned.

“Ok-kay…” Jason said confused as he looked between Bruce and Y/N. “Does anyone want to say what the fuck is going on?”

“Jason,” Alfred said, gesturing for the young man to step back. Jason knew that if Alfred wasn’t using formalities that it must be a serious thing, and so Jason obeyed, standing by the Butler’s side.

“Mum?” Y/N said, looking around Bruce, who still stared at Y/N, to her mother. Selina’s eyes were welled with tears. The look on her mother’s face didn’t calm Y/N, it only made her feel worse. Sick rose in her throat, her heart raced a million miles an hour, and she was shaking a little bit. “What’s going on?” She repeated.

“Yes, Selina,” Bruce said turning to look at his childhood love, “what is going on?”

“Bruce…” Selina pled, “please.”

“Twenty-fucking-years, Selina, twenty-fucking-years.”

“Please, someone tell me what the hell is happening!” Y/N cried out.

“I’m your father,” Bruce said turning to Y/N again. His voice was tense, as though he was holding back tears. Perhaps he was. For twenty years he didn’t know that Y/N existed, and then it was revealed to him in the snap of a finger. The woman he loved since a boy had his child and didn’t tell him. “You are my daughter – you are a Wayne.” Bruce tried to move towards Y/N, unsure on what he should do, put a hand on her shoulder, hug her, pat her head, but Y/N backed away and looked between the man and her mother.

“What?”

“Y/N,” Bruce said. He said her name as though it was the only thing he had been missing in his life, saying it softly and gently, like a whisper.

“Mum?” Y/N said walking past Bruce and up to Selina, hoping her mother would clear everything up, that Bruce was lying, messing with her, but Selina smiled sadly and cupped her daughter’s face.

“I’m sorry, Baby,” Selina said softly, “but Bruce is telling the truth. Bruce Wayne is your father.”

Y/N pushed her mother off and looked at her with betrayal in her eyes. Her mind felt overwhelmed as her life was turned upside down. What was she supposed to say? To think? She just waited for her mother to start laughing and say ‘gotcha’ but she didn’t, and so Y/N was forced to confront the truth of what her mother said. Bruce Wayne was her father. Bruce Wayne, Batman, Her Boss. Y/N didn’t know what to do, she just stared at Bruce, who looked at Y/N with hopeful eyes. She was rooted to the spot, and her mouth hanging open.

“B-b-b-but,” Y/N stuttered as she spun around looking at the people around her, “you told me that my father was dead, he was killed,” she said staring at her mother in disbelief, “you told me he died protecting you in Penguin’s.”

“I lied,” Selina confessed in a small voice. Y/N looked at Selina and then Bruce and then she looked at Jason and Alfred. Jason looked just as, if not more, shocked than Y/N, staring at her with a dropped jaw. Y/N Kyle was the daughter of Selina Kyle and Bruce Wayne, Catwoman and Batman. Perhaps it was just dawning on him that he was dating the daughter of Selina Kyle and Bruce Wayne. Alfred, on the other hand, remained calm, just watching, as though he suspected. Their reactions didn’t help Y/N with her own. It was like she was a ghost all of a sudden, watching the scene from the outside.

“Y/N…” Bruce said trying to step towards her, but she stepped back, and when her mother tried to get closer, Y/N backed up even more.

“Kitten, I am so sorry,” Selina said, trying to apologise. Y/N didn’t want to hear it, she didn’t want to listen, she didn’t want to be there. She turned around and flung the door open and tore from the house.

“Y/N!” Jason yelled, trying to go after her. The woman he loved just had her world shattered and discovered her boss was her father and that her mother had lied to her for her entire life. He should be comforting her. Alfred grabbed Jason and pulled him back, shaking his head.

“Don’t,” Alfred said softly, “trust me.”

Reluctantly, Jason nodded and agreed to stay at the old man’s side.

Y/N ran from the house. Selina and Bruce ran after her, yelling after her as they did.

“Y/N PLEASE,” Selina cried out, “PLEASE, BABY!”

“Y/N COME BACK, LET’S TALK ABOUT THIS,” Bruce yelled.

Y/N didn’t say anything, she heard them but ignored them. The young woman pushed all of her energy into running, and she picked up her speed. Bruce had closed the gates upon entry, and Selina and Bruce were now scared that their daughter was going to hurt herself so tried to catch up and stop her, but they weren’t fast enough. Y/N leapt up, grabbed ahold of the bars of the fence, pressed her feet against the metal and pulled herself up, flipping herself over the fence and then landing gracefully on her feet on the other side before continuing to run, disappearing into the darkness.

Selina and Bruce reached the fence, panting, and grabbed ahold of the bars, staring after her, yelling for her to come back.

“Y/N!” Selina screamed. “Oh, God!” She said as she grabbed her hair and stepped back, staring after her daughter in distress.

“Where the hell did she learn to do that?” Bruce asked though pants.

“Gymnastics,” Selina said, “she won nationals.”

“Really?” Bruce said looking at Selina, highly impressed, “good for her!”

“You really think now is the time for that?” Selina hissed as she turned around and walked back into Wayne Manor.

“Where are you going?” Bruce yelled after Selina. Selina had walked into the hallway and grabbed her handbag up from the floor. Jason and Alfred remained silent

“I’m getting my bag so I can then go after MY DAUGHTER who YOU caused to run off,” Selina said as she turned and walked up to Bruce, chest to chest.

“Excuse me,” Bruce scoffed, “I’m not the one who kept her paternity a secret for nineteen years!”

“You had no fucking right, Bruce,” Selina snapped, “She’s my daughter!”

“And mine too!”

“You haven’t been in her life.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“I didn’t want you in her life!” Selina yelled dropping her bag and shoving Bruce, “That was my choice to make,” she said going to slap him, but Bruce dodged it, “You had no right to come back into my life like that and TELL HER EVERYTHING!”

Selina tried to punch him. Bruce stepped out of the way. Selina went to shove him. Bruce let her. Selina went to slap him. Bruce ducked. Selina went to kick Bruce. Bruce grabbed her leg and held her in place. All of a sudden they were young again. Selina was that wild-haired streetwise pickpocket in a leather jacket with goggles on her head. Bruce was the kind-hearted, wide-eyed boy who wore turtle necks and was always a little shy around Selina. They both had a flash and saw each other as they once were, back when Selina was staying with Bruce at the Manor, back before Batman and Catwoman, before everything happened. Their hearts ached for a moment. What happened to them? Bruce let Selina’s leg go and Selina gently put her leg back on the ground. Both looked almost sheepish. God! There were bigger things to be worried about at that moment than a stupid fight between them. Poor Y/N, the poor girl just had her world turned upside down and ran off, and here they were throwing punches at each other. They should be trying to find and help her. Bruce just sighed and shook his head, gazing longingly at Selina.

“Just tell me why, Selina,” Bruce said softly. As Bruce spoke, Alfred gestured for Jason to follow him and leave the two alone to talk privately. They went into the kitchen. “Why hide it? Why not tell me?”

“I was young, and scared, and pregnant,” Selina said in a quiet voice, she shrugged a little “I didn’t know what to do. We were on opposite sides, and you had just come back to Gotham. I didn’t know if you’d leave me again.”

“You kept this a secret cause I left to keep you safe?”

“No, God no, Bruce,” Selina shook her head furiously, her eyebrows furrowed together, but she expected that reaction and she couldn’t blame him. She hides his daughter from him for twenty years, she couldn’t blame him for thinking something like that. “I’m not that petty. I kept it a secret cause… if you left again, it wouldn’t be just me whose heart you broke, it would be Y/N’s as well. My heart? Fine, sure, I knew the life I signed up for being Catwoman and falling for you, but Y/N? I couldn’t bear the thought of you breaking her heart.”

“I wouldn’t have left,” Bruce placed his hands on Selina’s shoulders and rested his forehead against hers, “I promised I wouldn’t leave Gotham again, and I haven’t.”

“I didn’t know that then,” Selina sighed, “what would you have done if pregnant me turned up on the doorstep of Wayne Manor, saying you knocked me up?” Bruce didn’t say anything, “see, you don’t know, and so you can’t blame me for panicking.”

“No, no,” Bruce shook his head, “I know, Selina, I don’t blame you for panicking at all.”

“I wanted to tell you, so bad,” she whispered, “I was just so scared.”

“And Selina Kyle doesn’t scare easily,” Bruce said with a small teasing smile.

“It’s not like I got some kicks out of hiding this from you, Bruce,” Selina said, “every birthday, every Christmas, every fathers or mothers day, I’d look at Y/N and think how wonderful it’d be for me and you to be sharing these memories. I’m sorry, but the main thing for me was to protect Y/N, and it might’ve been misjudged actions, and stupid, but I always did it with a good heart and thinking it was the way to keep her safe.”

“You don’t have to apologise to me, Selina, I get it now,” he assured her. “And you did an incredible job, Selina,” Bruce told her, “Y/N is an incredible young woman, smart, courageous, kind-hearted, a good person. You are an incredible mother, and you did everything you could, and look at you now! You raised her alone, and managed to give her an amazing life.”

“Bruce…” Selina became almost shy at all the compliments Bruce showered her with.

“It’s true,” he insisted “Now come on, let’s assure Alfred and Jason the house will remain standing.”

________________________________________________________________

In the kitchen, Jason leaned against the counter with a bottle of beer as Alfred polished crystal champagne glasses. They sat in silence and waited, listening out to hear if anything broke or yelling was taking place, glancing at each other nervously.

“Should we be worried?” Jason said, “it’s really quiet.”

“No,” Alfred shook his head, “they’ve been like this ever since they’ve known each other – you get used to it.”

“How long have they known each other?”

“Since they were kids, Ms Kyle was present when Master Wayne’s parents were killed,” the man explained, “potential witness, but she never saw the face clearly. She stayed here for a while. She is Bruce’s first and only love. He’d do anything for her.”

When Selina and Bruce walked into the kitchen, Selina with her arms wrapped around herself and Bruce scratching the back of his neck, Jason and Alfred looked at them with concern.

“Everything alright with you two?” Jason asked cautiously.

“There are bigger things we need to worry about right now,” Selina said, “Y/N…”

“Yeah,” Jason nodded, “I think her reaction was more than allowed.”

“I can’t blame her,” Selina sat down at the counter, “I mean, I said her father was dead, I used the made-up dead father as a way to convince her not to be Lynx!”

“Y/N is Lynx?!” Bruce blurted out, “Seriously, Selina?”

“Her father is Batman and her mother is Catwoman,” Selina pointed out, “what else would you expect? Her only choices seem to be criminal or vigilante. Just be glad she didn’t choose to follow me into cat-burglary and took after her father wanting to stop crime rather than commit it.”

“She’s got a point,” Jason said quietly, “and you said yourself that Lynx had potential.”

Bruce gave Jason an icy glare causing the young man to shut his mouth and stare at the ground.

“Master Wayne,” Alfred sighed, “you must understand that Y/N probably grew up hearing that the crime in Gotham was responsible for her father’s death and wanted to prevent it happening to anyone else. It’s admirable.”

“Alfred,” Bruce frowned and looked at him, “you knew, didn’t you? That Y/N was my daughter.”

“Yes, Master Wayne, I did know,” he nodded, “Commissioner Gordon told me.”

“You never said anything,” Selina said, “why?”

“This wasn’t my secret to tell.”

“Jim knew?” Bruce said.

“From the moment he saw her,” Alfred nodded, “Wayne eyes,” Alfred smiled a little as he spoke.

“Eyes aren’t the only thing she inherited from Bruce,” Selina rolled her eyes, “difficult child to raise.”

“Where would she run off to?” Bruce said, looking around, choosing to ignore the comment from Selina, although Jason and Alfred were both biting back a smile at the expression and head shake from Selina as she compared father to daughter, “where would a nineteen-year-old run to when upset?”

Everyone remained quiet for a second as they thought. Jason lifted his head and looked at Selina knowingly. Selina caught Jason’s look and nodded with a sigh. Yeah, that’s where Y/N would have gone. The two people she could always count on and go to when things were tough.

“I’ve got an idea where Y/N went,” Jason said.

“Where?” Bruce asked.

“You’re really not gonna like this,” Jason sighed as he grabbed his jacket, “actually there is a lot about this.”

“Excuse me?” Bruce frowned. “Where is Y/N?”

“She’s with Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy.”

“What the fuck?”

[bigskydreaming]

The Ric Grayson AND Talon storylines both end at the same time, and in the same way:

Great Grandpa Creeper Cobb successfully manipulates Ric into position to be brainwashed and become the Talon that Willie the Weenie has always wanted him to be.....this happens for like, two issues.

Then Grandpa Get Ye To A Graveyard Already fucks up....he accidentally brings Talon Ric within sighting distance of the Court’s latest crop of prospective Talon recruits, including a wee baby ten year old orphan being trained to be a future Talon.

And the essential corn kernel of Dick Grayson’s essence, deep down in his psyche, just fucking POPS like its Orville Redenbacher and someone just nuked it in the microwave.

And the real Dick Grayson comes SHRIEKING to the forefront of Talon!Ric’s brain, nothing subtle about it, and the next thing his Rancid Relative knows, he’s being fucking impaled by his great grandson’s blades as said great grandson, who is SUPPOSED to be docilely brainwashed, wtf, is already halfway across the room, diving into the mass of other Talons like they’re a collection of bowling pins and he’s a wrecking ball straight out of a Miley Cyrus music video, but instead of the caterwauling lyrics “I never hit so haaaaaaaard in love,” Dick’s accompanied by a soundtrack of him screaming:

“I WILL PROTECT YOU SMOL CHILD!!!”

As said smol child is just standing there, staring, like....dude, wut?

And then Dick finishes absolutely DESTROYING everything undead and nefarious in sight like he’s the Tasmanian Devil on meth, and he turns to said smol child and begins the process of Smothering, as his hands flutter all up and down checking for injuries but not touching, like: 

“Did they hurt you are you alright you’re safe now cough once for I’m all good or punch me in the no-no’s if I’m making you feel unsafe, I will make sure you are totally safe from here on out, you are my baby now, I have decided, but like, only if you want to be.”

And smol child is decidedly overwhelmed but Man-Who-Speaks-Like-He-Has-Pixie-Sticks-In-Place-Of-Blood-Vessels seems harmless, if weird, and is definitely preferable to the weird Bird Men who kidnapped him off the streets and tried to teach him how to kill people and make death threats out of nursery rhymes. And he doesn’t have a lot of experience in OTHER subterranean lairs to compare this one too, but he’s decidedly not a fan, so when Dick asks if he would like him to take him to see Batman and Batgirl and Robin and other superheroes who can also reassure him there will be no more homework on How To Torture People Good, he’s like....”yeah I guess. If you want.”

And so Dick scoops him up with glee and takes off through the tunnels, yelling back over his shoulder: “Bye Greatly-Gross-Grandpa, hate you lots, don’t call, don’t write, you’re officially off my Christmas card list, hasta la neeeeeeeeeever.”

Thereupon swiftly grappling across the Bludhaven rooftops, yelling PARKOUR! just because he can and its fun, and its weirdly relaxing for his wee passenger, because look, this dude may be weird as fuck, but he’s clearly got the moves to protect him from the Undead Legions of Ornithologists and he seems too....fun to be evil, like not in the Joker kinda way like he’s seen on TV in previous foster homes where its like, jeez dude, try hard much, but more like an adult who just quit a soul-crushing cubicle-dwelling corporate-craphole job and has suddenly been reminded that the sky is blue, flowers smell good, and there IS a Santa Claus, Virginia.

Thus by the time they arrive at Wayne Manor, with no attempt made to hide where they’re going from his wee passenger’s eyes - Dick has already decided he’s keeping the kid, pending said kid’s approval but look, kids like him and he’s determined to bring his A game to the pitch meeting, so he likes his chances - said wee passenger disembarks in the Batcave but stays close by, clinging to Dick’s side in an ever so slight way that allows for plausible deniability later, once he gets his bearings and also his bravado back.

“Dick?!” Comes the chorus of voices from the rest of the family, who are all there already, by great coincidence and in great defiance of the crapfests in their own individual titles, but also who the fuck cares. And Dick puffs out his chest, cuz he’s putting on a good show for his new kiddo, first impressions are important...

“Tis I, fam! The one true Dick Grayson has returned! Huzzah!”

Look, being completely oblivious to his Greatest Dork Energy coinciding with his Times He Most Attempts To Be Impressive, is like, Peak Dick Grayson characterization, you can trust me, I’m a doctor. 

And Tim’s like, “Why are you dressed like a Talon?”

And Dick’s like, “Isn’t the better question why AREN’T you dressed like a Talon?”

Which makes no sense but shhh, I’m running out of steam here, don’t question the atmosphere, just let it be.

And Bruce is like, “Who’s your friend?”

With like...designs and agendas already in mind, because said wee Talon-to-be is cute and adorable and bravely trying to act like he is not at all intimidated by his surroundings and is in total control of what’s going on like, he meant to be here, this is all according to plan, yes, excellent, everything is progressing nicely....

Which as everyone knows, are the three key essential traits Bruce looks for in prospective adoptees....

So Dick snarls and later blames it on residual Talon-ness, they’re very territorial bird...assassin....people....anyway, the adrenaline is still high and also he has swiftly become attached because whether kiddo knows it or not, Dick 100% credits him with the brainwash-breaking and thus when factored in with the cuteness quotient, what we have here is an instant recipe for Protectiveness slash Possessiveness that would be creepy and inappropriate if this wasn’t pure crack. 

But crack it is, and thus Dick curls a protective arm around the kiddo like the lap-bar on a particularly turbulent roller coaster and applies G-Force sufficient to keep even Superman from prying him out of his hands - but in a gentle, non- ’crushing kinda way that might hurt the kiddo,’ even though physics doesn’t work like that, except look, these are CRACK PHYSICS, they can and they do work like that. 

And he’s all, “I already adopted him, so back off, Bruce, I’ll cut you. But also hi dad, I missed you. In spirit I mean, like I had amnesia and then I was brainwashed so technically its probably a reach to say I missed anyone but just roll with it. Also I can haz hugs now, please?”

And then Damian apparates in front of Dick amid a cloud of Disapproval that’s really just a cover for OMG-I-Was-Without-You-And-It-Was-Terrible-And-I’m-So-Glad-You’re-Back-But-Also-Who-Is-This-Interloper-And-Why-Is-He-Stealing-My-Hug.

“Tt. Grayson. Your absence was...less than desirable. See to it that this doesn’t happen again. Also what is that and why is it here.”

“Aww, Dami, I’m sorry. I promise to install a “please have the nearest available psychic reboot my brain in case of future brain damage slash amnesia” clause in my living will, and soon as I get a free second, I’ll break the fourth wall and blackmail the DC editorial staff into declaring me off-limits for all death, brainwashing and/or kidnapping plots for at least the next four major crossover events. I have naughty pictures. They’ll cave.”

“Hmph,” Dami says. He resumes staring pointedly at the kiddo, who juts his chin defiantly and stares back while clinging more tightly to Dick, because he may have very little clue what’s going on, but he’s a quick one and has at least picked up on the fact that Dick wants him and this other kid wants Dick. Which combined with the rescuing and the kicking of bad guy ass means Dick is probably Quality and In Demand and Of Value, and thus he might as well stake a claim now and worry about whether or not to act on that or skedaddle later, once he’s got more intel. He’s a natural Bat, this one, but then, that’s probably why he was in Toddler Talon Boot Camp, he scored high on whatever weird aptitude tests they used to scope out talent, and by talent we mean murder-skills.

“Dami,” Dick admonishes then, “This isn’t an it, he’s a person, and he was recently traumatized so promise me you’ll be on your best behavior or at least your ‘engaging in shenanigans with Jon’ behavior. And he’s not competition, you’re my Dames and my little bro, and he’s potentially your nephew, which is a whole separate category and no threat to you and your baby bro status at all, so retract the claws. If anything, the real danger is Pops adopting him and thus supplanting you as the official Baby Bird of our generation, so make like an ally and help me get that dangerous “I’m gonna adopt this kid so hard” gleam out of Bruce’s eye before it gets any gleamier. We’re still only halfway through my tearful reunion and having to cut Dad before we even get to cake would be a major mood-killer, but I’ll do it, I swear. Also, get your Baby Bird behind over here and hug me already, I have two arms.”

Damian rolled his eyes but obediently disappeared and reappeared nestled against Dick’s other side in the blink of an eye. The proper application of ninja skills has always been the pursuance of hugs and cuddles. Thus sayeth the crack.

“Hey, I do get cake, right?” Dick asked suddenly, looking around dangerously. “I was amnesiac and also brainwashed, I deserve cake, TELL me there’s gonna be cake.”

“Well that answers whether or not we should be worried about this being an attempted infiltration or not,” Jason says, strolling over casually. “No impostor or brainwashing script-writer could ever duplicate the Essence de Dick so perfectly. Hey squirt. Welcome to the madhouse. I’m Jason, what’s your name?”

“Oh right,” Dick realized, cocking his head. “Hey, what is your name?”

“Really, Dick?” Tim sighed, fondly exasperated. “I realize you like to jump from A straight to Z whenever possible, but steps B through Y aren’t usually just mere suggestions.”

“It hadn’t come up yet,” Dick defended himself.

“Yes, why would it have,” Duke mused from where he was leaning over and snapping his fingers in front of Bruce’s eyes, in a futile attempt at tearing his gaze away from the viable adoption candidate within 20 meters from him. It was probably best that they get this adoption thing inked out and signed off on as soon as possible - it was the only thing that was definitively going to get that “Argh, I’ve spotted treasure ahoy” look out of Bruce’s eyes. And Alfred had been very clear :Bruce was forbidden to adopt any more kids himself until he got a better handle on juggling the six he already had. Which. The past year had...probably not met Alfred’s standards on, so it didn’t seem likely he’d be waiving that requirement any time soon. 

(And nobody wanted to get in between the Unstoppable Force that was Bruce’s ‘must adopt all the orphans’ and the Immovable Object that was Alfred’s ‘must maintain at least a reasonable fascimile of order in this household, even if it is a total sham, appearances matter.’)

“Hey!” Dick protested. “I’ve been busy, okay? There was fighting and then there was parkouring and now we’re reunifying, and it wasn’t like I was just calling him ‘that kid’ in my head, I was calling him ‘my kiddo’ which is a perfectly reasonable identifier and thus more specific detail just....hadn’t been relevant yet!”

“So uh, bee tee dubs, what is your name, buddy?” Dick asked, looking down. His kiddo looked back up at him for a long, measuring moment, and then he shrugged.

“I’ll tell you in exchange for some cake. You said something about there being cake, but I don’t see any.”

Dick got misty-eyed at that. “See? He already prioritizes like me. This was destiny! Also, you heard my kiddo, do we not deserve cake? It has been a very long day, there was murder and mayhem and more. Also, my creeper great grandpa was there being icksome, and you know how much that weirds me out.”

“Come along, Master Dick,” Alfred said then, appearing out of nowhere thanks to his Bat-Butler Magic. “And your young charge as well. I already have your favorite baking in the oven and it should be done shortly. Lemon meringue with raspberry layers.”

“That’s disgusting and I will not participate in any ceremony that treats that as part of a celebration instead of just a weird kind of laxative,” Jason said loftily, though it escaped no one’s notice that he was the first to the stairs.

“Shut your facehole, its delicious and amazing and you will like it or I will kick your ass,” Dick said, equally loftily.

“Boys,” Bruce said with a long-suffering sigh, as the threat of brotherly bloodshed was enough to finally shake him out of his orphan-induced stupor.

“At MARIO KART. I will kick his ass at MARIO KART, ugh, jeez, B, why do you always assume the worst of us?”

“Precedent,” Tim said dryly.

“Who the hell asked the Oompa Loompa Brigade to weigh in with all ninety of his pounds?” Jason called back from the top of the stairs. 

Cass came up on Dick’s left, where the kiddo was one half of the sandwich made by him and Damian on Dick’s other side. She smiled down at him when he directed his still very wide-eyed gaze at her, landing on her after his latest sweep of the cavern and all its contained chaos, as if trying to take it all in - most likely in the hopes that if he could manage that, somehow the last 72 hours of his life might suddenly make sense. He really was adorable.

“Don’t worry,” she beamed at him, reaching out to pat him comfortingly on his shoulder, right above where Dick’s arm was still curled around it like a warm blanket - albeit one with the tensile hold of a python. “They’re all crazy, but only in the good ways.”

Duke scoffed as he slipped ahead of them and started taking the stairs two at a time. “It’s funny how you say that like you’re some kind of exception to the rule.”

“Bold words, little brother,” Cass called after him. He only shouted back from the top in a booming voice, his words echoing down the narrow stone stairway dramatically.

“Am I not Batclan?”

“Oooh, is that a new thing we’re doing?” Dick asked excitedly. “Somebody catch me up, I demand context. I smell a story there.”

“It was Jason’s fault,” Tim said automatically. Dick nodded.

“Sure, that tracks. Continue.”

Bruce trailed after his brood of batlings and birdlets, sidling over to where Barbara was waiting for the elevator. The latter having hung back to watch the commotion with the air of one taking notes for repurposing in the form of future blackmail material. Her ever extending network of spies and informants made so much more sense, suddenly.

He cleared his throat while they listened to the hum of the elevator’s machinery as it descended to their level.

“I wasn’t really thinking of adopting the boy,” he said. Not at all sullenly, nor with a trace of defensiveness to be found.

“Of course you weren’t, Bruce,” Barbara said. She patted his arm fondly, with all the conviction of a kindergarten teacher whose student was attempting to claim innocence on the matter of a paint disaster perfectly matching the paint stains on his hands.

“I wasn’t,” Bruce muttered as she preceded him into the elevator. 

Why did nobody ever believe him?

[violetsmoak]

Philtatos [6/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101543/chapters/47723155

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: During a patrol where Red Hood and Red Robin cross paths, Jason is infected with the blood of the Eros, the ancient God of Love, who informs them that they must track down his missing bow and arrows, or Jason will go slowly mad with an obsessive desire–for Tim. Though overwhelmed by the sudden attention being paid to him, Tim sets to work trying to solve the case, before Jason succumbs to madness. In the meantime, Jason discovers that there’s more than godlike powers at work here, as well as a legacy that reaches back through the sands of time.

Rating: Mature (for like one thing this chapter)

Beta Reader: None at the moment, but if anyone’s interested, message me through Tumblr.

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #art #jealousy #reincarnation #secrets #undying love

Author's Note(s): Chapters are all still unbeta'ed, but I'm hoping that will soon be fixed :)

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

Tim leaves the Cave and collects his bike and gear, preoccupied with conflicting thoughts.

On the one hand, he wants Jason spared as much discomfort as possible, but on the other, the possibility of him never waking up again makes his heart clench. Temporary or not, it’s still killing Jason, and there’s a reason why everyone is so reluctant to do that.

The fallout from his death the first time still haunts them all today. Still influences the Mission.

And either way, whether we use Diana’s cure or not, it all comes back to finding Eros’ arrows, right?

And speaking of Eros…

Tim returns to the Nest and the sight of the Olympian sprawled against his cot, completely naked and his own hand busily moving up and down his very erect dick.

“Oh my god what the hell,” Tim chokes, whirling around to avoid the sight.

“Fuck,” is the reply he gets, breathless and more irritated than anything else. “You…had to walk in now? Come back in…like…ten minutes.”

“I’m not leaving my own—” The distracting sound of heavy panting and the wet slide of skin on skin interrupt him. “I’m standing right here, stop it!”

“Not really much incentive,” Eros sniggers.

Tim scrambles over to his computer console, trying to block out the sounds, and punches in the code to activate the fire safety system. There’s a sputtering sound as the sprinkler in the ceiling sets off, followed by a shriek of surprise.

“What the hell, man?” Eros yelps, trying to scuttle away from the cold spray.

“Pants,” Tim bites out. “Now.”

“Okay, okay, geeze!”

There’s the rustle of jeans being dragged on, along with a great deal of cursing in more languages than Tim can recognize. Deeming it to be safe, Tim turns off the sprinkler and turns to face his unwanted houseguest, who’s glaring at him as if he wants to set him on fire.

“I can’t believe you did that. What happened to respecting guy-time?”

“There is no guy-time while you’re here,” Tim growls. “It’s enough I have to deal with your attitude, I’m not listening to sex noises. Or watching you get off.”

“Not something you’re into?” Eros questions. “I bet if I was 6’2” and with muscles like Thor, you’d be singing a different tune, darlin’.”

Don’t bet on it.

Eros’ personality aside, Tim’s never really had a taste for men. He considers himself open in terms of preferences, but until Jason, there’s never been any guy he’s ever thought about that way.

He clenches his fists.

Jason.

“Why didn’t you say anything about Stygian Sleep?” he demands, desperate to reroute this conversation pronto.

Eros snorts and rolls his eyes. “Of course someone brought that shit up. I’ll tell you why—because it’s a cure that’s as bad as the disease. Worse maybe.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean its price is steep and I didn’t think you’d be willing to pay it. I was saving time.”

“What did we say about not sharing all the information?” Tim snaps, and then pauses as something occurs to him. “Wait. Is that price the reason you couldn’t help your wife?”

It’s been confusing him, since Eros is supposedly a god; you’d think he’d be able to figure out a way to save the life of someone he supposedly loved.

“The Styx is older and more powerful than we are,” Eros replies, his entire demeanor shifting, as if to put distance between himself and the topic. “It has rules that make it pretty much impossible for a soul that’s been bound to it to leave. Only a soul that’s already returned from Hades can make that sacrifice…and it must be of equal value. Soul for soul, you see? God for god, mortal for mortal.”

Tim frowns.

“Put it this way—bodies are like this Zesti container,” the Olympian says, grabbing one of the many empty cans lining his table. “There’s only room for a certain amount of soul. No more.”

“And when Psyche was cursed, she was mortal,” Tim realizes; a beat later, “And you were a god.”

“Exactly.”

For the first time since they met, Tim feels a flicker of sympathy for the Olympian. It doesn’t make up for his generally irritating personality, but no one wants to lose someone they love. It’s especially hard when you know how to save them but are physically unable to do it.

Something else occurs to him.

“If we used the Stygian Sleep on Jason, there wouldn’t be anyone who could bring him back,” Tim realizes.

There’s no shortage of colleagues they know who have been dead, but no one with enough of a connection to Jason to willingly consign themselves to the death for him. And in the Family, the only one that’s actually been dead and come back (Dick doesn’t count, his heart only stopped for a few minutes) is Damian. And there’s no way Bruce, or anyone else, would let him make that sacrifice, even if he were so inclined.

“See?” Eros says. “I was sparing you the pain of a bad option.”

Tim rolls his eyes. “Somehow I doubt it was as altruistic as that.”

Which means they’re back to square one, with the only way to save Jason being finding Eros’ diviners.

There’s a hollow pain in Tim’s stomach. Jason’s in trouble because of him. If he hadn’t thrown himself in front of Tim to save him from the gunfire, he wouldn’t have gotten tagged with Eros’ blood.

On the heels of that is the feeling of disgust.

His harmless daydreams of Jason ever liking him in that way have been twisted in mutated into this.

So, Tim dutifully throws himself back into the investigation.

Video-chatting with everyone back at the Cave, they work together on cross-referencing areas where Eros’ robberies took place and the locations where he last sensed his bow.

For two days, it’s just endless sifting through data and ignoring Eros’ increasingly obnoxious behavior and trying not to think about Jason.

Then, at last, there’s a break in the case.

“All these places you robbed,” Tim begins, frowning at his digital murder-board. “They all correspond with instances of murder-suicides. The victims are always a couple that never showed any sign of domestic issues.” He had noticed them earlier in his investigation, but thought they were unrelated. “Wasn’t there something in the stories…your arrows, they can make people fall in love, but that’s not all they do.”

Eros blinks and then his eyes narrow. “The golden tipped ones make people fall in love. The lead-tipped ones make people hate each other with a bitter passion.”

“I’m going to run a search on the victims, see if there are any connections.”

“I can tell you right now there aren’t,” a mechanical voice interrupts, freezing Tim’s screen.

“Oracle,” Tim greets, not even surprised that she’s been listening in.

“Oracle?” Eros repeats. “What is it with you people and muddying the legacies of the great ones? Have you ever even been to Delphi?”

“The only link between the murder victims is they were all newly married,” the flat, digital voice continues, ignoring Eros. “If you widen the net to track murder-suicides during the past month, most of them occur in or around areas where Eros was looking for his bow and arrow. The interesting thing is, though, they all happened before Eros committed his robberies.”

“What?” Tim asks, confused.

“That’s probably what I was sensing,” Eros says, perking up. “If someone’s using the bow and arrow to incite hatred between lovers, that’s what I was drawn to. But if there were more than one death happening in the area, it’s no wonder I couldn’t get a strong trail. It’s like the scent was overlapping too much.”

“Which means whoever took your diviners not only knew what they were taking, but also from who. And how to throw you off their trail.”

Eros’ face is stormy.

“Still no clue who this could be?” Tim asks, and receives no answer in return. “Great. Very helpful. Do you even want to solve this case?”

Oracle interrupts whatever quip the Olympian has prepared. “Red Robin, you might want to return to the Cave.”

“What? Why?”

There’s a sinking sensation in his gut.

“Red Hood isn’t doing well. And Nightwing might be on the verge of convincing Batman that Wonder Woman’s solution is the only option.”

“What? No! I sent them the report of exactly why that’s a bad idea!” Tim snaps, already hurrying toward the garage.

“I know that,” Oracles replies, her voice switching from the screen to his comm. “But if you could see what Hood looks like right now…it might be a kinder end.”

“And what’s Hood’s opinion on this?”

“He’s…not exactly lucid at the moment.”

And now he feels like throwing up. He was sure they had more time! “I’ll be there in ten.”

“I’m blocking any incoming and outgoing transmissions from Wonder Woman, but at some point, they’re going to clue in to that fact. Drive fast.”

The ride is a blur to Tim, whose thoughts race without registering anything beyond a desperate disbelief.

Think! There’s got to be something we can do, something we missed.

As he weaves in and out of the traffic on the bridge to Bristol, he goes over every interaction he’s had with or about Eros and his abilities. Anything that was said, no matter how seemingly insignificant or unrelated.

One idea needles at him, a shadow of an inkling…

He doesn’t bother with the roundabout route this time, tearing into the Cave’s parking area and barely parking the bike before he’s hurrying toward the containment unit. Bruce isn’t there, which is a good sign—he must still be trying to get a hold of Diana; if he were ready to carry out any action for Jason, he would be here with him.

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t!” Tim orders, striding forward.

“Tim,” Dick says, getting up from the chair he’s been occupying beside the unit. “You shouldn’t be here.”

He ignores him, eyes drawn immediately to Jason. The older man is sitting curled in a ball at one end of the glass cage, surrounded by books and papers that look like they’ve been thrown in a fit of rage. He presses the heels of his hands against his temples, and Tim can see the bags under his eyes from here. And the angry red welt around his wrists and neck, like he’s been scratching into his skin.

Tim’s heart lurches.

“I didn’t know he was doing this bad,” he whispers.

Dick sighs. “He hasn’t slept in two days, and we can’t sedate him after what Diana said. It’s like he’s going through withdrawal—fever sweats, hallucinations, throwing up. Which isn’t great because he hasn’t been eating, either.”

And on top of that, he’s probably feeling trapped in that claustrophobic cell.

“He’s deteriorating right in front of us.”

“I know. We’re trying to contact Diana, but—”

“No. Not that. That is not an option.”

“Tim—”

“It would kill him, Dick! There’s no waking him up from it!”

“This is killing him, too! Wouldn’t you rather he didn’t suffer anymore?”

Tim’s fists curl into balls and he glances back at Jason.

He knows he;s is fighting. Bruce’s training and whatever he learned from the League is probably keeping him tethered—even if it’s only looselytethered now—but that’s only a stopgap. Jason looks like he’s on the brink of bashing his head against the glass until he knocks himself unconscious.

The mental image makes Tim recoil.

Jason’s in pain and it’s my fault.

He needs to help him, needs to do something, even if it means tamping down his own inconvenient feelings and letting Jason do…whatever he needs to.

Tim will do it; if it means giving Jason more time, he’ll do it.

Even if the idea of it makes him nauseous because right now Jason isn’t in his right mind and when they fix him, he’s going to hate Tim. But then…he’s hated him before, so at least Tim will know what to expect. And maybe if he’s careful about it…

Something Eros said about the nature of desire comes back to him then, and he considers it alongside what he knows about Jason.

He can’t take it anymore.

Tim strides to the door of the containment unit, ready to input the code. Dick blocks his way.

“You can’t!”

“I have an idea.”

“Then tell me what it is, and I’ll do it.”

“You can’t do anything right now,” Tim replies with a sad smile. “Just trust me, okay?”

Dick is still conflicted, but after a beat, he steps out of the way.

Tim opens the door to the containment area and slips inside, letting it close behind him. Slowly, he approaches Jason, almost the same way he might a wounded animal, moving slowly so as not to spook him.

Jason is shaking his head, backing away from him, and murmuring something to himself. Something foreign sounding, like a grounding chant; swear beads on his forehead.

His eyes are clenched shut, as if he’s trying not to see—either Tim or whatever hallucination has been plaguing him.

“Jason,” Tim says quietly. No response. “Jason, look at me.” Clear blue eyes snap open, locking with Tim’s. “I need you to focus on me, okay? And, uh, don’t punch me.”

He can see the difficulty Jason is having with comprehending right now, but he’s lucid enough to flinch away when Tim reaches for him.

“Tim!” Bruce barks somewhere in the distance, having finally made his appearance.

He ignores him and seeks out Jason’s hand, wrapping his hand around it. Or trying to; the other man’s hand feels huge compared to his.

He gives a fully body shudder at the contact, and then he’s clasping back at Tim as if he’s his lifeline. Something is at war in his eyes, that bit of sanity that tells him Jason’s still there.

“Philtatos,” he whispers, and Tim shivers at the way the strange word rings like a verbal caress.

Tim’s thumb automatically swipes across Jason’s wrist, and skin to skin like this he can feel the frantic beat of his pulse. Too fast for someone that’s been sitting still.

“You’re going to be okay,” Tim tells him. “Remember your training. Just breathe…and focus. Hold as tight as you need to.”

Jason’s breath shudders in a way that suggests he trying to comply.

Tim isn’t sure how long they stay like that, him crouched in front of Jason just holding his hand and murmuring calming words. But at some point, Jason begins to look visibly better. His pulse is returning to normal, the cold sweat on his face is beginning to cool and his breathing evens out.

“What…” Jason begins, eyes unfocused in their exhaustion. “Tim…?”

“Yeah. I’m here.”

“…shouldn’t be. I might…”

“You won’t,” Tim insists, confident. “It’s like what Eros said when we met him, remember? Desire is not just about…physical attraction. That’s not what you’re fixating on right now, is it?”

Jason shakes his head, slow, though his eyes don’t leave Tim’s face.

And I know what skin hunger looks like, Tim doesn’t add.

Before becoming a Wayne, before Dick and Alfred and Bruce and Steph—no on ever touched Tim in kindness or just casually because they wanted to. He was so touch-starved that for the longest time he flinched whenever Dick tried to hug him, even as he craved it more than anything.

He had been so worried about it seeming creepy to want to be held or hugged by his former mentor that it was, he’d let himself believe he wasn’t worth it. It’s a thought that occasionally comes back to him even now. And Jason…

Well, he wasn’t just starving for food when he was living with an abusive father and a drug addicted mother.

“Fuck, babybird, I’m so tired,” Jason murmurs, and there’s something in his voice like he’s asking permission. Tim feels a grating burn at the back of his throat and a swoop in his stomach.

“Go to sleep,” he says quietly. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

And utterly uncharacteristic of him, Jason listens. He lets Tim lead him back to his cot and sit him down, their hands still clasped, and almost the moment he closes his eyes, he’s passed out.

There’s a lingering heavy silence.

Tim takes one last moment to make sure Jason’s asleep and not about to wake again anytime soon, and in a more level voice remarks, “Could you guys stop gawking like this is a side show?”

Outside the glass, Alfred and Dick watch with bemused expressions; for Bruce, it’s disapproval.

“Uh, Tim?” Dick asks, clearly uncomfortable. “Explain?”

“It’s something Eros said. And Cassie, too,” Tim explains, settling back against the wall beside the cot. He keeps his fingers threaded between Jason’s. “This infection, it capitalizes on feelings that are already there, right? With Jason, his instinct when it comes to physical desire…it’s probably not a sex thing. Not with his background. But there is a touch component; having physical contact with another person—in this case, the object of his fixation.”

Alfred appears impressed. “How could you be sure of that?”

“I…wasn’t.”

But his theories are usually correct, so it balances out, he thinks. Dick and Bruce look like they disagree, though.

“Tim, this was foolish,” Bruce lectures, looming as best he can from the other side of the glass. “This might have gone very differently.”

“But it didn’t. I might not be great reading people, but except for you, I don’t think anyone ever bothered to learn about Jason the way I did.”

“He has a point,” Dick agrees carefully. “He was a persistent little stalker.”

There’s a degree of fondness in the statement.

Tim scowls at him and continues. “Besides, like I said, I know the look.”

Bruce doesn’t seem convinced.

“This is only a temporary solution,” he points out. “It won’t work forever.”

“But it will work for now,” Tim insists. “That’s what matters.”

And there’s really no more arguments against it.

⁂

Of course, Jason complains about it when he wakes up.

“I’m going to lose all my street cred,” he grumbles, shoveling a plate of Alfred’s oatmeal into his mouth with his left hand. The fingers of his right remain interlocked with Tim’s.

Tim makes to pull away. “I can stop—”

“I didn’t say that,” Jason interrupts, tightening his hold on Tim’s hand. He knows Tim has no intention of following through with the thread, but that doesn’t make it easier to look him in the eye.

Since waking up with Tim by his side, Jason’s condition has improved drastically. The color is back in his skin, and he’s entirely lucid if Tim is sitting within his personal space. And, of course, his appetite for actual food as returned.

It doesn’t completely quell the gnawing hunger, but he knows that’s not a physical hunger. There’s not much anyone can do about that until the damned arrows are found.

“I think you’ll eventually be okay to leave the containment for short periods,” Tim tells him, looking thoughtful. “At least if I stay in close quarters.”

“Out of the question,” Bruce interrupts; he’s been looming in the corner with a glare since before Jason woke up.

Oddly enough, I don’t think it’s directed at me this time.

“Definitely not a good idea, Timmy,” Dick adds.

“Why? He deserves to shower in peace and eat and groom and act like a normal human being instead of a quarantine patient,” Tim points out. “It’s not like he’s contagious.”

And, yes, Jason could definitely go for a goddamn shower; the grit on his skin has grit. But almost as soon as he has the thought, another image appears in his mind.

“You planning to shower with me, babybird?” he asks, voice tense as he tries to joke it off, because Tim couldn’t possible mean—?

“What? No!” Tim’s cheeks darken. “I think after another hour or so, you should be alright with light or no contact. And once we reach that point, I can probably sit outside the bathroom or something. If I’m within reach it should be okay. We can test it out.”

“Just what I always wanted, to be a science experiment…”

“No,” Bruce says again. “He might attempt to make a run for it or lash out and hurt someone. You in particular, Tim.”

“It is the whole reason I agreed to come here,” Jason concedes.

“And do you have any intention of going away again?” Tim shoots back, and frowns at Bruce. “At least not voluntarily. Also, the idea of him harming anyone is unlikely, he only reached out for Matt because he was disoriented and mistook him for me.”

“Who?”

“The kid from the alley,” Tim clarifies.

Jason’s stomach churns. “That doesn’t excuse what I almost did.”

“He was fine. He was a little shaken up, but I made sure he knows it wasn’t you. That you’re not like that,” Tim assures him, and refocuses on Bruce again. “There’s no one here he can do that with because he knows us all. If that weren’t the case, he would probably have gotten upset at the fact Damian’s been here for the past hour.”

In the shadows, Damian scoffs at being caught. “It’s not like I was hiding.”

And Tim…has a point there. Not sure if it’s because he’s sitting here with me or not, but now that I think about it, the past two days I couldn’t care less about Damian being here.

That’s actually a relief. So he’s not going to become a creeper to anyone that passably resembles Tim. Just Tim.

Okay, maybe relief isn’t the right word.

“As for trying to hurt me, I doubt he’d be capable of doing that in his current state,” Tim concludes. “Besides, I know how to defend myself. The fact that you don’t think I can do that much is a bit insulting.”

Jason can’t help the snort of laughter at that. He always likes when people other than him stand up to Bruce, but it’s somehow better that it’s Tim.

“If I might also point out,” Alfred speaks up. “It has been a rather long while since Master Jason has been able to enjoy a dinner at a table. With other people in attendance.”

Bruce doesn’t respond beyond exhaling through his nose.

“And that’s it, B,” Dick says, trying for levity. “Alfred’s spoken.”

Bruce doesn’t seem amused, either by the situation or the fact he’s lost the argument. Nor can he pursue it, because a notification pops up on the Batcomputer that Firefly is making a nuisance of himself again.

Which is how an hour later, Jason finds himself showered (fastest shower in his life while Tim waited outside the door), wearing fresh clothing (how the hell does Alfred always have clothes in his size around?) and sitting in the library with Tim, who’s doing something clever on his tablet.

“I figure you’d prefer not to be in the Cave unless it’s absolutely necessary,” Tim tells him, not looking at him.

“And I have taken the liberty of returning all of the materials you requested earlier,” Alfred adds, walking in with an armful of books. “I should hope you treat them with a mite more respect this time though.”

“Sorry, Alf,” Jason winces.

“Never mind that, Master Jason. Extenuating circumstances, and all that.”

He departs again.

“Anyhow, you can keep looking into whatever you were doing before,” Tim goes on, still not meeting his gaze. “It’s a good idea. Not all information on the subject has been digitized, so it isn’t searchable. I’ve got remote access to my system and the Cave from here, so I can keep working without having to leave you alone.”

“Right. Because you’ve got no choice but to be my babysitter.”

He tries to dial down the bitterness there, but Tim detects it easily. Finally, he glances up; his expression is surprised, and strangely soft.

“Being here is my choice. Or didn’t you notice the glares B was sending me all night?”

“Yeah, but he always looks like that. That could be about anything.”

“True, but in this case it’s because I have an issue with you getting dosed with some Olympian Death Kool-Aid.”

Tim had explained about the Stygian Sleep when Jason woke up and was trying to understand why they were holding hands. “Better that than me doing something I’d regret.”

“And I say what I said before—give it time.”

Jason scowls. “It’s not fair for you to use you against me right now.”

“If it means putting off the possibility of you dying, it’s totally fair. Besides, in this family, you know no one is above manipulation. Least of all me.”

“Why do you even care?” Jason wants to know. “After everything I’ve done to you?”

Tim shrugs, eyes darting away again.

“I don’t want Bruce and Dick and Alfred going through it again,” he mumbles, returning his attention to the tablet. “Losing you again. It…wasn’t pretty.”

Which Jason’s heard before, but he’s never exactly been willing to hear the specifics. He wonders if Tim decided to tell him this time, if he’d listen.

They lapse into silence then, both drawn into their respective avenues of research. Thankfully Tim’s theory about Jason’s affliction has proven true, and he seems to be regaining some control over himself.

Jason recalls what Eros said, about his condition depending on how far Tim was willing to go for him. He’s not entirely sold on the idea—there have to be limits, of course—but he won’t argue that it’s nice to be able to focus on something other than Tim for a few hours.

Just as long as he’s within easy reach.

By the early hours of the morning, though, Jason has grown bored.

“We’ve been at this for hours,” he grumbles, rubbing at his eyes.

“Uh-huh.”

He shoots a look at Tim, who’s frowning over his tablet and clearly didn’t hear him, and rolls his eyes.

He wants to have this whole mess sorted out, of course, but right now it doesn’t look like it’s going to be finished for a while.

They need a break.

Tim needs a break, or he’s going to pass out.

“Time to take a breather, babybird,” he declares a good ten minutes later, after debating with himself about how much of this is his regular concern and how much is Eros-induced mollycoddling.

“We don’t have time for breaks.”

“Right now, we do. And you’ll be able to think better if you get some air and come back with a new perspective. Never know when you might get an idea from something random.” Tim still doesn’t appear very enthusiastic, and so Jason tries another tack. “It’ll make me feel better at least, I feel like I’ve got ants in my brain.”

Which is what convinces Tim; Jason feels only a little guilty about that, figuring it’s for the greater good.

No one is above manipulation, right?

“Go sit in the family room and queue something up on TV,” he orders, something like enthusiasm manifesting in his stomach. “Casablanca or whatever.”

Tim makes a face. “You really think that’s the best movie idea for right now?”

He considers, then winces.

“Good point. Fine, choose whatever. Something with car crashes and explosions and shit. I’m gonna grab provisions.”

“You think that’s a good idea?”

“It’s downstairs, not navigating Gotham’s sewer system,” Jason retorts.

“Okay…” But Tim still looks doubtful.

Which Jason remembers the reason for once he’s in the kitchen making coffee.

Alfred won’t let him cook, insists on whipping up a tray of sandwiches because he doesn’t trust anyone in this house to make healthy food choices. Normally Jason would argue the point, because he eats just fine thank you very much, but his thoughts are straying back to Tim, and the fact he’s not here.

And if he glances at his phone every so often, finger hovering over the Contact button for Tim, well…he can’t do anything about that, can he?

At last, Jason heads for the family room, carrying a tray of coffee and tea.

“I’ve got the drinks, and Alfred said he’s going to bring up the rest of the—”

He freezes when he discovers the room is not occupied with just Tim. Dick is sprawled beside him on the couch—close! Too close!—while Damian hunches over his sketchpad in the corner, Titus and Pennyworth curled beside him, looking mutinous as ever.

“Bruce is still out on patrol. Gordon needed him for something, so he suggested we head back here and check on you,” Dick answers the question that wasn’t asked.

‘Suggested’ my ass.

Unsaid is the knowledge that if anyone has a chance of taking Jason down if he loses it, even if it’s just stalling him until Bruce gets there, Dick and Damian have the best chance.

He can’t even argue the point.

Scowling, Jason wanders over to the end table beside the couch and puts down the tray before handing Tim his coffee. The younger man takes it, sniffs and makes a perplexed face. “How’d you know that’s how I take my coffee?”

“Hell if I know, apparently it’s something I noticed,” Jason mutters as he finishes steeping his tea.

“Aw, Little Wing, don’t I get any?”

“Fuck off and get it yourself,” Jason snaps, still testy about how close Dick is sitting to Tim.

He knows that Dick has no interest in Tim that way, and vice versa, and that he’s just here to protect everyone. But the older man is also the one everyone likes best. Tim already likes him better than Jason, which puts a bad taste in his mouth and—

And he’s getting lost in his thoughts.

“Move,” Jason tells him. “That’s my spot.”

“You can’t have a spot. You don’t even live here.”

“Neither do you.”

“I’m here more often than you are.”

“That’s irrelevant. It was my spot when I lived here but you were too busy being elsewhere and an asshole, so I guess you wouldn’t know that.”

“I can move,” Tim pipes up quietly.

“Or Jaybird could just sit over here beside me,” Dick suggests innocently

Jason is not gritting his teeth. “No thanks. Your ego’s already suffocating me from over here, I don’t need the added burden of your cologne.”

“Guess you’re sitting on the floor then.”

Tim huffs. “If this is an issue, we can just go back to work. We really should be—”

“No, this is supposed to be a break,” Jason interrupts and glares at the older man, “and he’s ruining it.”

God, he sounds like a child. Tim must think so too, because he stands up and points to the space he was occupying. “Sit.”

“No, I don’t—”

“Jason, if you don’t sit, I’m going back to work.”

Which translates to Jason going back to work, since he’ll inevitable end up loitering wherever Tim goes. So, he scowls, and throws himself down in Tim’s spot, arms crossed and glaring at Dick, who watches the whole thing with a wary look on his face.

That gets blocked when Tim sits between them and shoots them both an irritated glare. “Are we good now?”

Not really, Jason thinks but doesn’t say, because Dick is still too close to Tim. A beat later, something occurs to him, and he smirks.

He stretches out, wrapping his arm around the back of the couch. Not touching Tim, or his shoulder, but there’s a heavy implication of hands offfrom his body language. Dick’s eyebrows are in danger of disappearing into his hair, and there’s worry now written in his eyes, but Jason ignores it.

He’s the one who even made this an issue.

Tim, meanwhile, sits very still, his cheeks stained red. Jason shifts with sudden guilt.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, considering pulling his arm back. “I can sit on the floor if—”

“No, it’s fine,” Tim cuts him off, crossing his arms tight against his body. “Now are we watching, or what?”

“You people are ridiculous,” Damian informs them, having watched the whole interchange with mild derision.

“Your face is ridiculous,” Jason shoots back and tries to concentrate on the television screen.

Which is more difficult than he expects.

The movie is boring. Worse, it’s predictable. He makes a mental note to never let Tim choose the movie ever again, at least until he gets some taste.

Early on, he loses interest in the formulaic plot and static characters, instead occupying himself with studying Tim out of the corner of his eye. The kid really isn’t that bad looking, for someone who lives on coffee and microwave dinners. His lashes are longer than he’s seen on most men, and his cheekbones are sharp without making his face look pinched. There’s also the curve of his mouth, where it’s not really smiling, but quirking upward in dry amusement.

It works well with the snark, Jason muses as his eyes grow heavier.

He drifts off, the family room fading away, dim light and tinny sound from the television blurring end ebbing, until it’s gone and he’s no longer there.

He’s in a large chamber, warmed by the dry breeze that winds through the open concept room. The walls are decorated with rich, colourful frescoes, and the floor with meticulous mosaic.

He leans over a wooden table, frowning down at piles of vellum and papyrus. There are discarded styli and other design tools lying across the sheets of military maneuvers and maps. The nearest one shows a hastily sketched city plan of roads and buildings; the one with the most notations reads Вιβλιοθήκη but it barely registers for him.

His attention is instead on the man seated across the room.

It’s Tim—because, of course it is—and he has a stylus stuck behind his ear while he uses another to etch something into a wax tablet. He’s also chuckling and shaking his head.

“You’re the one who wanted to stop here and found another city. What is this, the fourth one?”

“Fifth,” Jason corrects, though he knows Tim is just teasing him. “And it’s all planned now. Someone else can do the heavy lifting. Dinocrates is champing at the bit to get to work.” He shoves at the maps in front of him in frustration. “And I have things to do! You know that bastard Darius is holed up across the Euphrates trying to dictate to me?”

“He knows he’s losing, he’s just trying to cling to some semblance of power.”

“Exactly!”

“That doesn’t mean you should be impatient. Think it through—you’ll regret it if you just rush in. Remember what happened last time? You sliced a relic of the gods in half.”

“I was fulfilling a prophecy.”

“You were vandalizing public property. Call it what it is.”

“They threw me a parade.”

“Because they’re superstitious old goats.”

Jason crosses his arms. “You’re questioning my gods-given destiny to rule all of Asia. I could have your tongue for that.”

“You already have my tongue,” Tim says dryly. “Among other things.”

Though his face remains solemn, his eyes dance with irreverence and a heat that has Jason licking his lips and suddenly wanting to do something about that smile.

Which is when there’s a sound of approaching footsteps beyond the chamber. Tim looks down quickly, attention back to his etchings, and Jason draws himself up with an air of irritation that isn’t completely false; he hates interruptions.

A man wearing something like a linen caftan darts forward and bows.

“Your majesty, the sculptor Lyssipos has arrived.”

“Send him in,” he replies, a bit of the irritation waning.

A minute later, an older man appears, graying hair and beard oiled into curls; behind him, two darker-skinned men follow, carrying a large crate between them. From the way the old man snaps at them it’s obvious they are slaves.

“Your majesty, as always, you look to be in the prime of health!” the old man says; he has a smile like a salesman.

“Conquering the world agrees with me,” Jason answers in dry amusement. “What brings you so long from your workspace?”

“The piece you commissioned is ready.”

He makes a gesture to the men, who are quick to open the top of the wooden box and bring out a two-foot bust. It has been painted lightly with color, less garish than most artists prefer, closer to realistic. The face and shoulders rising from the marble are stocky, nose straight and locks of hair painstakingly hewn from the stone.

“I spent much longer on this than any other before it, majesty, and believe you will be pleased, though I would be humbled to know your thoughts on it.”

“I don’t know,” Jason chuckles as the men place it on the crate, and turns to Tim. “’Wife’, what do I think of it?”

Tim rolls his eyes, and both ignore the scandalized expressions from everyone in the room not privy to their dynamic. He lays his tools gently aside and wanders over to circle the bust with a critical eye. It is some time before he speaks.

“Master Lysippus has done well to hide that receding hairline you’re so worried about.”

Jason scowls, running a hand through his hair—it’s longer in the back than he’s used to—but the expression doesn’t remain long. He’s too busy studying Tim as he continued to evaluate the sculpture. Jason likes the way he wrinkles his brow and the set of his mouth.

Tim traces the statue’s eyelids and cheekbones with a finger, then brushes across the curved lips almost lovingly. Jason is reminded of the myth of Pygmalion and Galatea, and rather hopes Tim isn’t about to embrace a piece of stone in his place.

“It is graceful, elegant and has good symmetry,” Tim pronounces at long last, and Lysippus preens. “Although I have to admit, for being the work of the only sculptor the king has ever trusted with his likeness…it doesn’t look a thing like him.”

The earns a sharp gasp, and the old man looks as if he has just been struck. The slaves’ eyes flick toward one another, and no one seems to know what to say to that.

Irritation flares in his chest and Jason feels the inclination to snarl, until he notices the teasing in Tim’s eyes.

That little shit…

“My liegeman is simply enjoying a joke at my expense,” Jason informs the old man. “The piece is perfect. A true artistic marvel, as expected.” He reaches for a piece of vellum and scribbles a hasty note, ignoring Tim’s pained expression at the informal proceedings, and then uses his personal seal to legitimize it. “Take this to Harpalus, Machatas’ son. He oversees the treasury and will see to your needs.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

“Now, I’ll say farewell, as I must have some words with philalexandros here about inappropriate humor.”

“Your majesty,” the men echo, and soon Jason is alone with Tim once more.

He grimaces at him. “Do you see what you did? They’re scandalized by your irreverence.”

“Maybe, but you like that about me, and that’s all that matters,” Tim replies, approaching.

“Yes, but no one else is supposed to know that. I’m meant to be the god-king—remember that cynical philosopher in Corinth? He insisted I’m ruled by your thighs.”

“Hm,” Tim considers. “Aren’t you?”

“Rather the opposite,” Jason grins, drawing close to the shorter man. “I seem to recall you having a few choice things to say about my thighs.” He tips a finger beneath his chin. “Come, let’s take this somewhere else.”

“Why?” Tim teases. “Are you afraid your double is watching?”

Jason’s eyes flit to the lifeless stone irises of the statue, and shudders. “Well, now I am…”

He bends closer to Tim, and can feel his breath on his face—

Jason jolts awake to discover he’s nodded off against Tim’s shoulder—no, worse; he’s practically curled into him, face in the crook of his neck.

Tim is sitting rigid, neck and cheeks radiating warmth, though he’s staring carefully ahead of him. Jason hurriedly shoves himself away. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Tim croaks.

Dick is watching the whole thing with evident concern his eyes. “You were talking in your sleep.”

“Shit. What did I say?” He doesn’t remember everything from his dream, but he’s pretty sure at the end there he was making some kind of innuendo.

“No idea.”

“It sounded like Greek,” Damian says, glancing up from his sketching. “Not any dialect I’m familiar with, though.”

“Oh. Good.” Jason swallows. “Also, what the hell?”

From everyone else’s expressions, they’re wondering the same thing.

⁂⁂⁂

Next Chapter

[regrendermytorf]

“Pandemonium” thoughts

Hooo boy, strap in chili babies. I have a lot of thoughts on the finale and I process best by writing so here we go. 

On Monday, I ended up binge-watching most of S1 and ALL of S2 with my brother who had never seen The Good Place. Watching all of it together, I realized that Michael Schur’s structure for this show seems to be “Last verse same as the first, but a whole lot louder and a little bit worse”. Or another way of putting it: Jeremy Bearimy. It’s becoming a classic exploration of fate vs free will as the time line loops in on itself over and over.

Consider:

Season 1: Eleanor asks Chidi for help. He agrees. Eleanor gets really into ethics and becomes a better person. Chidi struggles with indecision but is decisive when it comes down to saving Eleanor. Eleanor realizes she loves Chidi but Chidi has too many choices and doesn’t know what to do. Tahani is confronted with her inferiority complex. Jason falls for Janet, asking her to marry him just a few days into the relationship. Janet falls for Jason and starts to become more human. Michael is a master of deception but genuinely enjoys the little details of humans (paper clips, etc). The season ends with Eleanor figuring out the truth and Michael rebooting the neighborhood. Eleanor comes up with a last ditch plan to plant a clue in Janet: Find Chidi.

Season 2: We find out that in every one of the 800 reboots, Eleanor asks Chidi for help, he agrees, and they both get better. Eleanor gets really into Ethics and Chidi continues to struggle with indecision. Eleanor realizes she loves Chidi but Chidi is overwhelmed by their circumstances and doesn’t know what to do. He finally gets decisive when he realizes how he feels about Eleanor and that he might not have another chance to tell her. Tahani is confronted with her inferiority complex and finally gets the chance to tell her parents off. Janet realizes she loves Jason while Jason has no memory of them being together. Meanwhile, Jason falls for Tahani and asks her to marry him just a few days into their relationship. Janet becomes more and more human as she deals with new emotions and learns to lie. Michael’s ability to deceive now helps him save the humans he loves instead of torturing them. The season ends with Michael rebooting Team Cockroach and sending them back to earth. After being prompted by Michael, Eleanor finds Chidi on earth.

Season 3: Now on Earth, Eleanor once again gets really into ethics. Chidi, once again with Eleanor’s help, overcomes his indecision in order to ask out Simone (and later, to break up with her). Eleanor realizes she loves Chidi but Chidi is overwhelmed by their circumstances at first and doesn’t want to talk about it. He finally gets decisive when Eleanor is danger of losing herself and imploding the universe. Tahani is confronted with her inferiority complex and finally reconciles with Kamilah. Jason marries Tahani again, but not for love this time. Janet becomes more and more human as she deals with her emotions and lives on Earth without her powers. Jason finds out about his past with Janet and the two of them decide to try again. Michael accidentally dooms the humans when his deception is uncovered and his new goal becomes to right the wrongs of the Afterlife points system. The season ends with Michael recreating the fake “Good Place” neighborhood and rebooting Chidi. Eleanor and Chidi watch a film of them finding each other and loving each other in so many different contexts. Eleanor, now pretending to be the architect, welcomes Chidi to the neighborhood.

I'm a huge sucker for the "in every version of the universe, I'd find you and choose you" trope (Hi Snowing and Westallen fans!), so naturally, I love this structure. We get to see our faves dropped into lots of different situations with different results. Team Cockroach gets the chance to grow a little differently every time. Tahani always has to deal with her inferiority complex, but one season she confronts her parents. Another season she confronts Kamilah. We get to see Chidi learn to be decisive. We get to see Eleanor improve and become a part of a team, even a leader. The loop is a little different everytime but some things seem to be inevitable.

This next season seems to be set up to question that very concept: Is this growth inevitable? This loop is different from all the previous loops because of two reasons: 1) Chidi chose to be rebooted and 2) Chidi is the only one who got rebooted.

Some of the seemingly inevitable elements are still in place. Eleanor has knowledge that Chidi doesn't. Eleanor loves Chidi first. However, in every previous reboot, Eleanor and Chidi have both been starting from square 1. Eleanor needs his help and Chidi teaches. That's the base of their connection. In this version, Eleanor has already learned from Chidi. She won't be in the lessons because she's the "architect" that Chidi is trying to help the others improve for. Chidi chose to be rebooted with the absolute faith that he and Eleanor will find their way back to each other?.

In the other loops, Eleanor has found out about their past and some of the dramatic tension has come from the question of whether or not Eleanor should tell Chidi and how he'll react. This time, Eleanor can't tell him about their past without ruining the experiment and dooming them all. Eleanor knows Chidi loves her, but how will she feel watching him bond with an ex and unable to tell him how she feels?

It's a huge relief that they aren't starting all of Team Cockroach from square 1 again. But if there has to be a reboot, this is a genius way to do it. There is a ton of angst and character growth to lean into despite the familiar ground of the loop.

Jeremy Bearimy, baby. We'll get to the dot some day.

[tgwltw]

From the other side

Hi, first of all thank you for sending in your request! I honestly love prompts like this and I also love family-fic + time travel prompts. To be honest, this would probably have gone longer but I want to tell you that I really feel like adopting this prompt and turn it in to an actual short series! So look forward to that, whenever it may come out! Anyways, hope this is enjoyable enough for you to read.

“We ought to be careful.” Damian stops prodding the box-like machine with his batarang stares at his father. He feels like a deer caught in headlights especially since he had thought he had been subtle enough to do it behind Bruce’s back. Also, his father had been staring at the monitor.

“Scoot over.” You say to Dick haughtily and Dick rolls his eyes at your tone causing you to roll your eyes back in response. “I can’t see the machine over your big head!”

“That’s what she said.” Jason starts to snicker which made the two of you glare at him. Your in-sync actions made him laugh even more. He always loved watching the two of you interact – it is seriously better than any dramas that are currently airing on TV. It is also hilarious seeing the sexual tension between the two of you. Jason just finds it hilarious how the two of you are oblivious to your own feelings.

“Could you be more of a child, Todd?” Damian shakes his head at Jason’s jab. “Tt.” He crosses his arms and Jason merely ignores Damian, still laughing to himself about how hilarious this entire thing is. Why is he the only one who can see the sexual tension between Dick and you!?

Tim is still typing away on the keyboard while Bruce is overlooking the monitors, trying to find something in between the codes that can allow them to identify the unknown machine.

The machine had been something that was left behind by the villains that had appeared out of the blue while they had been on patrol late that afternoon. Things took a turn for the worse when the villains – all three of them – knew at least half of their real identities before blowing themselves up. In other words, your only clue in trying to figure out how in the world they knew your real name has just blown themselves up in to pieces, leaving behind only the machines and more questions than answers.

“I have never seen any of these algorithms before.” Tim murmurs under his breath as he tires his hardest to find an in-between where he can easily slip his own codes to crack it. But this device – machine, whatever – is filled with an entirely new advanced element, one that he has never encountered before and even with the extensive knowledge as well as database Tim has on his own hands, he is only hitting dead-ends.

Suddenly, everything starts going haywire. The vitals start to go up and down crazily and the machine starts to whirr continuously, the sound growing louder and louder as the seconds tick by. Everyone gets in to their fighting stance, each holding at least a weapon as they stare at the machine with the exception of Tim who is slowly starting to panic because what the heck just happened and what caused it to happen?

“Tim!” Bruce stands to cover Tim. “What happened?” He asks over his shoulders, keeping his eyes locked on the machine. The machine is starting to shake now and the whirring sound is getting louder now.

Tim shakes his head, looking at Bruce. “It suddenly activated itself – I don’t know how that happened. The energy readings are off the chart!” Just as he finishes saying this, the machine emits such a bright light that most of the people in attendance had to close their eyes at how bright the lights are.

You can feel someone pulling you away from the machine – you had been the closest to the machine because Dick’s head had been too big earlier – when the lights grew brighter, some unknown energy pulsating off of the machine and you can hear several different sounds of metals and a loud explosion comes from the box, almost shaking the entire cave. It did disrupt the bats though.

When the smokes clear and the whirring noise stops, the lights grow dim, all eyes are on the machine now. You are about to reach for your fallen weapon when you realize that you are currently half-lying on something warm and solid! Your eyes widen when you notice that the warm and solid thing you had been on is none other than Dick! He is staring at you in an unidentifiable emotion before letting you go. (What in the world? You didn’t even notice he had his arm around you!).

“Look.” Tim is the first to point to the machine. Said machine is bigger now – almost looking like a smaller version of the Zeta Tube. Just as Damian is about to approach the machine, the machine opens causing Damian to jump back, narrowing his eyes. Then out of the blue, a person appears from the machine – though technically, in reality, it was more like the person was thrown out of the Zeta Tube.

Everyone watches with anticipation, especially when the boy groans and pushes himself up. The first person he had seen is Damian and a smile appears on his face. “Uncle Damian!” He throws himself towards Damian who side-steps, causing the boy to almost fall if he had not managed to push himself off the floor, doing a somersault instead.

“Tt.” Damian is still staring at the boy.

The boy turns around and when his eyes land on you, his face brightens and the smile on his face grows wider when he spots Dick beside you. “Hey, Mom and Dad!”

“What.” Your jaw drops when you finally realize what he had just said. You turn to look at Dick and the expression on his face mirrors yours.

Jason is the first one to break the tension by falling on to his knees, laughing. “This is fucking hilarious!”

Bruce stares at the boy – he does resemble Dick a whole lot, though the colour of his eyes are similar to yours and his hair colour is a mix of your shade’s and Dick’s – and he turns to look at the both of you, raising one of his eyebrows. “Is there something the two of you want to tell me?”

You sputter incoherently, looking at Bruce and Dick and continue to shake your head. “I – what – oh – no, what,” You still can’t fathom what in the world had happened just now and truth be told, you are still hung up over the fact that the little boy – he looks around nine or ten – just called you ‘Mom’ and Dick ‘Dad’. This is blowing your mind. You already have a gist of where this boy might have possibly come from but how did Dick and you even happen!? The both of you don’t get along well at all!

The boy looks around the place, muttering happily to himself. The bat-cave looks so weird – it is much livelier in the future – but right now, it looks a tad bit dim. Though it is nice to see all of his uncles as well as Grandpa Bruce in their prime ages.

Dick on the other hand is just feeling very overwhelmed with a whole lot of emotions. It’s not like he had never entertained the thought of ever getting together with you because he did, a few times and occasionally whenever he is under the influence of alcohol but that aside, given the chance, Dick knows he might want to try test the waters with you. The only problem there is that the two of you got off on the wrong foot when you had first met all those years ago.

“Uh, Dick’s son?” Tim calls out causing the boy to grin at his uncle.

“Yes, Uncle Tim?”

Tim flushes slightly at the affectionate nickname. “Can you please tell me what in the world did you just come out of and how are you here?”

“Better ask him what his purpose is being in our time.” Damian huffs. “You are Grayson’s son?” The boy nods his head, grinning at Damian. Damian can’t help but see the similarities between the boy’s grin and Dick’s very own so the probability that this boy is really Grayson’s son is high.

Alfred clears his throat. “How about I make some tea for everyone and we can all talk about this in the manor?”

[bughead-fic-request]

Hi, this is probably way out there, but I just recently read the comic "Jughead: the New Hunger. In it Jughead is a werewolf (a long running Jones family curse) and Betty is a werewolf hunter (Coopers having hunted werewolves for generations). In the comic they are just really good friends, but their friendship is tested once they find out each other's secret. I think it'd be interesting to see this concept with them in a romantic dynamic though. Epitome of Romeo and Juliet and forbidden love.

Werewolves of Riverdale

Summary: The people of Riverdale are terrified fearing there is a serial killer on the lose but Betty Cooper knows better. Werewolves have come back to Riverdale. She will do whatever it takes to protect her town, even going head to head with the packs Beta, Jughead Jones. 

Words: 5,690  

Warnings: Violence, swearing, drinking, smoking and mild sexual situations. 

A/N: So I’m not happy with this but I never will be so I’m just gonna post it. I have never read the comic this idea is based on so it’s probably very different. I’m basing a lot this on Wynonna Earp, which is a fucking amazing show and you should all watch it. This is more sci-fi/fantasy/horror based, theres not a lot of romance. I’m also not an expert in werewolf/lycan lore so I’m sorry if there are inaccuracies. I won’t be writing a follow up to this but if anyone else wants to take this idea and run with it go for it.

I edited this myself so there are probably a lot of errors. 

Betty Cooper had a bad reputation.

Her family lineage called for it, for her to be an outcast, a weirdo, a short fuse. A person others did not get along with.

She had spent a lot of her younger years trying to fit in. She tried to say the right things, do the right things, join the right clubs and make the right friends.

When she realized her blonde hair and heart shaped face couldn’t get her a spot on the cheerleading squad, she embraced what made her different.  

She embraced the leather and tattoos. The nightly training in hand to hand combat and the hours of studying lore, fairy tales and wolf anatomy. She learned to love Shadowmoon, the gun that belonged to her great-great-great-great grandmother; the first werewolf hunter in her family.

There had been no need for a hunter in Riverdale for decades. The great war had all but ended the werewolf bloodline and a need for a slayer disappeared. Her mother, who was also her mentor, had never needed to fight a day in her life. There had been nothing but peace for as long as Betty could remember.

But now there were four dead bodies and a serial killer on the loose. The news called him the Riverdale Ripper but Betty knew better.

Werewolves had come back to Riverdale.

They were living on the Southside of town posing at a biker gang. It kept people away and allowed them to travel in a pack inconspicuously. The wolves were merciless and killed without remorse.

Jason Blossom had been left on the steps of city hall, insides on the outsides.

Mrs. Grundy was found in her small apartment so ripped apart that she had to be I.D’ed using dental records.

Moose Mason was in pieces at Sweetwater River.

Dilton Dooley’s body was never found but someone had placed his heart on his parents front porch.

Betty felt an overwhelming guilt that she had allowed the situation to get out of hand. No one her age should have to go to that many funerals but there was no rule book on killing werewolves. If anything it fuelled the fire within her and made her work harder.

She spent every moment she wasn’t working her day job at the Riverdale police station looking over the evidence. At night she was combing the forest looking for clues or a werewolf to slay but she wasn’t having any luck. It was beyond frustrating.

People were being murdered and all Kevin Keller could think about was going to a party.

“Veronica is having a shindig and we should go.” Kevin recommended as he lounged on her couch. He was Betty’s only friend.

“You know I can’t.” She sighed loading silver bullets into Shadowmoon. Betty admired the ancient symbols carved into the barrel of the Colt .45.  

“Yeah but considering I’m not the sheriff and we aren’t finding anything, hunting is hella boring for me.” Kevin scrolled through his phone. “And you deserve one night off.”

The Keller and Cooper families had been working together for decades to help rid the area of werewolves. If a mess was made the police helped clean it up.

“What if this is the night four becomes five. I can’t have another body on my hands Kevin, I can’t.” She shook her head and put the gun down on the table. “Even if we went, everyone in this town hates me. There is no way I could have a good time at this thing.” Betty sighed and pulled her hair up into her signature ponytail. She sat on her couch and put on her beloved black leather boots. They were perfect for fighting and she slid her favorite knife into the sheath inside.

“Then go for me. There is finally a new batch of students and one of them has to be gay.” He went to go look at himself in the full length mirror attached to he bedroom door.

Betty lived alone in a small apartment in the heart of town. It was big enough to fit a couch, arm chair, TV stand and a dining room table. In the bedroom sat a bed, a dresser and one night stand. Her closet was where she kept all her weapons and fighting gear.

“Oh yeah, it’s September, a new school year started.”

Riverdale was a college town. Most of the people Betty went to high school with never left and she was forced to put up with them everyday. If she was being honest, she was embarrassed to see them. She didn’t have time for college and because of her oath to protect the town she knew she would never leave the place where she was born and raised. She knew she would keep her job at the Piggly Wiggly forever and never have anything more than this. The life span of an active hunter wasn’t very long so maybe should wouldn’t have to worry about it for much longer.

Betty took a deep breath in and looked at her friend. He had done so much for her, gave up his time and put his life on the line to help her. If she was only going to live a finite amount of years she could have a drink or two. “Fine but you need to help me get Archie drunk enough so that I look like a viable option.”

“Girl, he’s already slept with you. If you ask him to fuck you, he’ll fuck you.” Kevin reassured as he put his coat on.

“How romantic.” Betty rolled her eyes.

“We both know you’re not looking to fall in love, we just need to loosen you up. Archie Andrews did a pretty good job last time.” Kevin opened her front door.

Betty grabbed her keys and leather jacket. “Please don’t make me regret this.” She warned heading out the door.

She left Shadowmoon on the table.

Veronica Lodge’s house was the biggest one in town and a weekend didn’t pass when she didn’t have a party. Cars littered the driveway and drunken kids danced and chatted wherever they could.

They stepped into the grand space, a spiral staircase on her left and a large foyer and living room to her right. Everything was white. White marble, curtains, sofas, carpets and tables. She felt like a bull in a china shop, she was a messy person and white wasn’t her color.

Betty groaned when she heard the music. “DMX? What year is this?” She looked around at everyone and shook her head. “Nope, I can’t do this.” She turned to leave but walked smack into Kevin who turned her around and pushed her into the house.

“You are staying, you are having a drink, you are finding Archie and then you can leave. Please don’t punch anyone.” He pleaded, leaving her alone so he could talk to a blue eyed blonde leaning against the far wall. Kevin picked up two drinks, downing one, tossing the cup on the floor and casually approached the man.

Betty sighed and looked around for anyone she could speak to.

She saw Cheryl Blossom standing awkwardly in the corner with a beer in her hand. Her hair was dull and lifeless and it looked like she hadn’t slept in days. The rumour was she had a full blown mental breakdown when her twin Jason was murdered. Betty felt for her, she should have been able to protect the Blossom family but had failed.  Going over there meant talking about something that probably had to do with Jason.

Betty couldn’t handle a conversation like that so she headed to the kitchen to pour herself a drink instead.

She worked her way through the crowded space and filled her cup at the keg.

“Hey there, gorgeous.” Archie wrapped his arms around her waist while she was trying to take a sip of her beer, spilling it all over herself.

“Hey, Archie.” Betty shook the dripping beer off her hand as he spun her around to face him. “What’s up?”

He was looking handsome as usual. His red hair was a fashionable mess and his grin made her melt. He was more muscular than she remembered. She wondered if she could persuade him to be her work out buddy in more ways than one.

“Where have you been lately? I look for you at these things every week.” He told her leaning against the counter.

Betty perked up at his statement. “You do?” No one was ever interested if Betty was anywhere. She lurked in the shadows and put down the monsters that threatened to hurt the people who didn’t give a shit about her.

And people wondered why she had an attitude problem.

“Yeah, I thought we had a good time when we were together last.” Archie took a step towards her and pinned her against the counter.

“We did, I just didn’t think you’d want to see me again.” Betty smiled placing her beer down.

“I’d actually love to take you out but you are a hard girl to get a hold of.” He grinned, pressing his lips against hers.

“I’m not really the dating type.” She smiled against his mouth.

“I’m not against that either.” He kissed her again.

“Ew, Archie, I thought you had better taste.” A familiar but grating voice said.

Betty sighed and her head lulled back in annoyance. “Hello, Veronica.”

Archie took a step away from her and gave a nod to the dark haired beauty.

Veronica Lodge was wealthy, beautiful, spoke a mile a minute and believed she was better than everyone else because she wore Manolo’s. She was one of the girls that made Betty’s high school experience a nightmare.

Veronica was a bitch with a capital B.

“How is that you don’t live in a trailer park but exude such a trailer trash aura?” Her comment was snide and her minions giggled around her.

“I work really hard at it Veronica. Thanks for noticing!” She grinned and started patting down her pockets looking for her cigarettes.

“What are you doing here?” Veronica asked, crossing her arms over her black party dress with sheer cutouts. “I did not invite you.”

“I came to rub my trailer trash germs all over your fancy digs.” Betty smirked, sticking a cigarette between her lips, lighting it.

“You know what, I should be mad that you are a rude, disgusting waste of space but then I remember you’ll always be stuck here, bagging my groceries. You’ll make no impact on anyone and no one will care when you’re gone.” She gave her the kind of smile only a bitch could give.

Betty should have ignored her comment. She wasn’t worth the energy it would take to punch her but Betty was having a weird day. Her fist connected with Veronica’s nose before she even knew she was doing it. Blood sprayed all over the brunette’s dress and the white tile of the kitchen. He friends started screaming and Archie ran to her side.

“Everyone else might forget me but you won’t. I’ll come to mind every time you have to look at that busted ass nose of yours.” Betty took a long drag of her cigarette and picked up her drink.

“What is wrong with you, Betty?” Archie asked, bringing a cloth up to Veronica’s nose.

“She started it.” Betty justified, backing out of the kitchen and headed towards the front door.

“I asked you to do one thing Cooper, seriously?” Kevin shouted from across the room.

Betty shrugged and left the house in a hurry. She moved around the side of the house where there were less people. Leaning up against the brick siding, she took a few deep breathes before popping the cigarette back in her mouth.

“You have quite the right hook.” Said a man with dark hair and blue eyes so bright she could see them in the dark.

Betty startled and stood up straight, spilling her drink for the second time that night. “Yeah, well the bitch deserved it.”

“I’m not saying she didn’t. She looks like the type of to make the nicest of peoples blood boil.” He took another step towards her and she got a better look at his face. He had a sly knowing smile, like he was the smartest person in the room. His nose was narrow and pointed and his jawline was strong. He was wearing a basic grey t-shirt and dark blue jeans. He smelled like soap, the forest and something that Betty couldn’t place but it made her alert. He smelled dangerous.

“Can I bum one of those?” He asked.

Betty handed him the pack and her lighter. “I’ve never seen you around here, you new in town? A college kid?” She smiled. If she couldn’t bed Archie this guy would do just fine. Tall, dark and handsome was definitely her type.

He shook his head, inhaling the sweet nicotine. “I lived in Nevada most of my life with my mom but my dad needs help with the family business. I’m in Riverdale indefinitely.” He smiled.

“No plans to go to school?” Betty finished her drink and put her cigarette out in the cup.

“Maybe some night classes by no,” he chuckled. “there is no higher education in my future.”

They were silent as Betty kicked the grass and the man smoked. “So listen, I’m not good at small talk so I’m gonna get down to it. I only socialize for one reason.”

“Sex?”

Her eyes widened at his correct assumption. “Well, yeah and I had a possibility earlier this evening but that isn’t going to pan out. So if you’re down, I’m offering you a no strings attached hook up. Interested?”

“You are propositioning a person you just met and whose name you don’t know for a one night stand?” He put his cigarette out on the side house.

“Yeah.” Betty shrugged and shoved her hands into her pockets.

The man nodded. “Okay.”

He took a step towards her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Their lips met feverishly as he pushed her up towards the side of the house.

He began kissing down her neck.

“I’m Betty, by the way. That way you know what name to scream later.” She chuckled.

He stopped, his eyes flying open at the mentioning of her hame. He parted from her and looked her dead in the eye. “Is your last name Cooper?” He breathed, fear in his tone.

Her brow furrowed. “Yeah, why?”

He pushed away from her like she was made of fire.

“What’s wrong with you?” 

“Betty! Betty!” Kevin came running around the corner. “Jones’ son is here, Jughead, the Alpha’s son!” Kevin stopped abruptly and looked between the two of them, they had both moved into defence mode.

“Hunter!” Jughead growled.

“Dog!” Betty snapped back, putting two and two together. She looked at Kevin. “I left Shadowmoon at home! Go!”

Kevin nodded and took off.

So did Jughead, disappearing into the woods with Betty following close behind.

Cheryl, who had stepped out to get some air, watched the two shapes sprint past her. Without thinking took off after them.

“Dog!” Betty shouted when she lost him, reaching down to retrieve her knife.

There was a howling in the distance and she turned towards the sound to see Jughead running at her full speed. He pinned her to the ground.

He began smashing her hand against the ground trying to loosen her grip on the knife. “I should have known right when I saw you.” He snarled.

“I guess we are both off our game today.” She kneed him in the groin and he rolled off of her grabbing his testicles. Betty stood lightening fast and stabbed him in the side with the knife.

He screamed in pain but managed to gather enough energy to kick her in the stomach, sending her flying backwards.

“Betty!” Kevin yelled somewhere in the woods.

She slowly sat up and saw Jughead hobbling away, clutching his side, blood trickling down his fingers.

She wanted to go after him but getting Shadowmoon was more important.

“Kev!” She turned towards where she thought she heard his voice come from.

Betty stood and turned when she heard the snapping of a twig. At the same time someone shouted, “Betty, watch out!”

She brace herself for the impact of the seven foot werewolf charging towards her. The thing was on its hind legs and looked like a mix of a man and a wolf, not purely one or the other. Betty’s hands pushed against the wolf’s chest and she rolled to the ground almost doing a reverse somersault, using his momentum against him. Placing her foot on it’s abdomen she kicked and flung the beast into a tree.

She was up in a flash and ran towards him, sinking the blade into the chest of injured creature. She needed Shadowmoon, the gun had a magical property and it was the only thing that could end the life of a werewolf. She drove the knife in many more times to hinder the animal until Kevin arrived.

The werewolf was fighting the pain and slashed at her with it long claws leaving deep gashes along her chest. She was flung many feet and landed with a painful thud on the forest floor.

The beast rose and charged at her, mouth open and snarling, drool dripping from its razor sharp teeth.

“Betty!” Kevin yelled and threw Shadowmoon in her direction.

Betty extended her arm and the gun fell into her hand like her connection to it was magnetic. She pointed it at the wolf and the barrel and symbols glowed red hot. She pulled the trigger. It fired true and the bullet entered the wolf right between the eyes. The creature collapsed on the ground and turned back into the man he was before the curse affected him.

Kevin walked towards Betty and helped her up. “Yikes.” He motioned to the cuts on her chest that were already starting to heal.

“If I’m healing that means Jughead is too. We have to find him before he reaches the Southside.“ Betty sheathed her knife.

“Can I come?” Cheryl’s timid voice squeaked out.

They both looked at her. “What are you doing here, Cheryl?” Betty asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know, I saw you chase that guy into the woods and I felt compelled to follow you. If I didn’t you would have been attacked by that thing.” Cheryl pointed out. "I told you to watch out.”

Betty sighed. “Fine but keep up and stay out of the way.”

Cheryl nodded.

“Lets follow his blood path.” Betty said, smelling the air.

Being a hunter enhanced some of her senses. Her vision was clearer, her hearing more precise and her sense of smell was heightened. She ran, moved and healed faster than regular people and was far stronger than most.

Betty could smell his blood, it was coppery mixed with a dull meat and wet dog smell. It was what she was smelling on him earlier but she couldn’t place it. Up until that moment she hadn’t been face to face with a werewolf.

She stilled and put her hand up motioning to her companions to stop. She could hear talking. There were three people in the clearing up ahead. They had stopped in front of a rickety old bridge that used to be the main connection between Riverdale and the Southside.

“What are we doing?” Kevin asked, his voice barely a whisper knowing she could hear him.

“I can’t decide if we should go in guns a blazing or be a little more stealthy.” She answered.

“Well, considering Cheryl and I won’t be much help, guns a blazing?” Kevin suggested.

Betty looked at both of them. “Hide.”

They nodded and disappeared into the woods as quietly as possible.

Betty walked towards the men, Shadowmoon in her hand. She could feel it heat up in her hand, the weapon sensing there were werewolves in the area.

She stepped out of the bushes. “Hands up boys.” She said firmly.

Jughead scoffed in annoyance, still holding his side. “You don’t know what you’re doing, wolf slayer.”

“I know your pack is killing people in my town and that is something I cannot abide.” She took a step towards them.

“Lycans never left Riverdale, did you know that? We have a renegade member of our pack and we want him brought to justice just as much as you do.” Jughead reasoned, the other two men stepped in front of him, protecting him. She knew he wasn’t the Alpha, but based on their movements he was the Beta.

“I know all about your kind, when you phase you have no control over yourselves. You’re killing machines and there are bodies in the morgue to prove it.” She shot back.

“I don’t know what your keepers told you but it’s a load of bullshit. We aren’t werewolves, we’re lycans, half man, half beast, we are cognizant when we shift. Your kind has been hunting my kind for centuries thinking we are something we’re not. Everything you stand for is built on a lie.” Jughead stood up straighter.

“You’re murders.”

“Funny, that’s how we feel about you.”

Betty took another step towards him.

“You aren’t going to back down are you?” He asked.

“I rarely do.” She leered at him.

He sighed and shrugged. “Fine, I guess we are fighting tonight boys.” His eyes shifted from the bright blue to a glowing yellow. “Tear her apart.”

The two men transformed quickly and it shocked Betty, she had never seen someone phase before. She couldn’t get over the sounds of their bones cracking as they expanded. Their hair grew at an alarming pace and their faces elongated into a snout, fangs replacing their human teeth. They stood up right.

The wolves came at her and she fired her first shot, nailing one of them between the eyes. He crumbled to the ground and she heard Jughead wail. She wasn’t quick enough for her second animal and he tackled her to the ground. She lost her grip on Shadowmoon and it landed at the edge of the woods.

Betty pushed against the creature as she struggled to get a grip on her knife but she wasn’t strong enough. The beast sunk its teeth into her shoulder and Betty was in so much pain she saw white. She released a blood curdling scream.

Cheryl stumbled forward from the woods and grabbed the gun which had landed a few feet away from her.

Betty saw the redhead reach for her families gun and she fought through her pain to reach for her knife. “Cheryl! That gun will not work for you! Get away from here! Run!” The Blossoms already lost a child, she wouldn’t allow another. She sunk the blade into the animal up to the hilt.

Cheryl didn’t listen. Betty should have suspected as much, before her mental break Cheryl always did what she wanted.

Betty continued to struggle with the wolf. “Toss me the gun!”

The redhead’s fingers wrapped around the weapon which came alive her hand.

Betty was beyond confused, only people with hunters blood from her family could use that weapon. Even then, the gun had to react to your touch and it didn’t for everyone. She knew an opportunity she saw one and pushed the creatures head higher. “Shoot! Don’t worry about aiming, just shoot!” Betty shouted.

Cheryl closed her eyes and fired the glowing pistol. It hit the creature between the eyes, firing true, something it had only ever done for Betty. She pushed the animal off her and stood.

Cheryl’s eyes were wide as she stared at the gun in her trembling hand. “How? How?”

Betty snatched it from her and turned it on Jughead who hadn’t transformed.

“Just like I said, you’re a murderer.” There was a morbid smugness in his tone.  

“They attacked me, took a good chunk out of me too.” She motioned towards her shoulder.

“Well, you took their lives.” He crossed his arms. “I would say it’s more than fair.” He spat.

“Why didn’t you protect them?” She asked. “You didn’t phase because you know you lose your senses when you change. You’re a man that likes control and you must hate every moment you’re a beast. You proved my point by not shifting.”

“There is a hierarchy in our group. They died protecting their Beta.” He justified.

“So why haven’t you changed then? Are you afraid to fight me?” She taunted, stepping towards him. Shadowmoon was steady in her hands even though her shoulder was killing her.

“I know you won’t kill me in human form.” He smirked.

“I think you underestimate me, Dog.” She raised the gun in her hand.

“You wouldn’t.” He tried to call her bluff.

“Fuck you, Mutt.” She squeezed the trigger but before she could fire another wolf lunged out of the woods putting itself between her and Jughead. Betty instinctively fired at it.

Jughead was yelling, screaming really as he ran towards the wolf who was already falling to the ground.

She lowered the gun and watched as the animal Jughead hovered over turned into FP Jones, the packs Alpha.

“Dad? Dad!” He shouted shaking his father knowing the gun of hunter never missed and once you were hit, you were dead. Tears were dripping down his face as he looked up at her. “I deserved this? Did I? DID I?” He shouted at her.

Betty took a step away from him clenching her jaw. FP jumped in front of Jughead in wolf form, he was protecting his son when he shouldn’t have been able to. Betty didn’t understand how that could be so. Everything she had ever been taught told her otherwise. She couldn’t help but wonder if Jughead was right and everything she knew was a lie.

She kept retreating until she bumped into Cheryl and Kevin.

Other members of the pack came out of the forest to retrieve their dead. Betty felt a red hot surge of guilt flow through her. She had spent so much time learning to kill, she never actually thought what it would be like to take a life. She supposed she never thought it would matter, she never had a problem killing bad guys.

Now she wasn’t sure if that was them or her.

Jughead shot one final look in her direction. “I will see you again wolf slayer and I promise when I do, it won’t be friendly.” His mouth was drawn into a straight line and his eyes were puffy before he disappeared into the woods.

“That was intense.” Kevin remarked.

Betty holstered Shadowmoon and looked at her hands, they were trembling. “It didn’t go quite the way I imagined.” She admitted.

“Why did that gun light up when I touched it?” A wide eyed Cheryl asked.

“I think I need to speak to my mother about out family tree. If you can operate Shadowmoon we share a female relative.” Betty rubbed her face and flinched when her shoulder began to throb.

“Does that mean Jughead is the new Alpha?” Kevin asked, his face being illuminated by the red and blue lights of his father’s police car.

“Yeah, I think it does.” Betty lamented, flinching in pain, removing her jacket to reveal a bloody shoulder from where she was bitten.

“Are you going to turn into one of them now?” Cheryl asked looking at the wound with fascination.

“Hunters can’t be turned. We have something in our blood that won’t allow it.” Betty exhaled. “I gotta go to the hospital.” She admitted.

“I’ll drive you.” Cheryl offered.

“And as always, I’ll clean up the mess.” Kevin said exasperated.

“Thank you for your help tonight. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you.” Betty placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed lovingly.

She slung her arm around Cheryl’s shoulder and they slowly moved towards the car to get Betty stitched up.

Betty sat on the metal examination table as Doctor Mark Brown got ready to stitch her up. The Browns had been doctors for generations and were in the know about Riverdale’s werewolf problem. This was the first time Dr. Brown had to put his knowledge to use.

She hissed when he treated her wound with antiseptic. “Can you ease up, doc?” She spat.

“I can let it go untreated and it will take days longer to heal and that’s if you didn’t get a lot of his saliva in the bite. If you did, you can come back in two weeks when it’s infected and I can amputate your arm.” He gave her an annoyed smile. “You know bites don’t heal well or fast, so suck it up Cooper.” The doctor began to get his tools ready.

“Mom, I need to talk to you about a few things.” Betty said flinching as the needle went in.

“It was your first encounter with the wolves, you did a good job.” Alice praised but in a somber way. “There’s nothing to worry about.” She sat perfectly still in a chair in the corner of the room.

“You told me they lose all their humanity when they phase but FP knew Jughead was his son, he saved him.”

“Maybe it was pack mentality.” Alice reasoned.

“The wolves attacked me, they had no interest in hurting each other or Cheryl, just me.” Betty glared at her mother. “Jughead told me they were Lycans.”

“Lycans and werewolves are the same thing.”

“Werewolves are animals that don’t have control but Lycans are half man, half wolf. They have control over when and how they phase and they can control their actions when they do. That makes more sense then werewolves. He told me they have a renegade member of the pack who is committing the murders.” Betty felt rage building up inside of her. “We should be working with them to hunt the actual killer. Is this news to you or did you know they weren’t wolves?”

Alice rolled her eyes. “So, I may have told a few fibs to make the job easier for you.”

Betty’s mouth dropped open. “Mom, that’s not a fib, that’s the difference between protection and murder.”

“They are murders, Betty! Explain to that girl in the waiting room why she doesn’t have a brother anymore. Or why the Mason’s don’t have a son. They were innocent!” Alice shouted at her daughter.

“And from the sounds of it so were FP and the two other men I killed tonight.” Betty laughed through a scoff. “Not to mention the wolf Cheryl killed, with Shadowmoon. You wanna explain that to me?” Betty’s hand gripped the table, denting it.

Alice shrugged. “The Blossom family is as old as ours, its possible hunter blood runs through her veins.”

“Not possible, she picked up the gun, fired it and it shot true. It won’t even do that for you mother.” Betty cocked an eyebrow.  

Dr. Brown finished putting gauze over the wound. “You’re just like new.” He quipped.

“Thanks doc.” She jumped off the table. “Tomorrow, I’m going to the Southside and I’m working this out.”

“They will kill you.” Alice grabbed her arm and squeezed as hard as she could.

Betty looked down at her mothers hand and tore her arm away. “Maybe I deserve it. Maybe you should have prepared me properly. Most importantly, you should have learned who I am and that I would never would have agreed to go along with this. I took an oath to protect this town but if I keep going the way I’m going, who is going to protect them from me?” She glowered at her mother who looked so much like her she could have been a clone. “I’m going to the Southside and you can’t stop me.”

She grabbed her torn jacket and headed it out to the waiting room motioning for Cheryl to follow.

Jughead stood in front of his fathers trailer and looked out over his community. The faces were somber and the rage that coursed through his veins was unlike anything he had ever felt.

“I want to blame this all on the hunter but I can’t.” He began and people started to whisper amongst themselves. “The reason she is active is because someone in our community has gone rouge. This person is killing people in the community our kind have called home for decades.”

Jughead sighed and looked at the pyres beside him. He looked at his fathers unmoving face and tried to think of a time he looked that peaceful.  

"We have to find the renegade and put him down. This kind of behaviour will not stand and he will be made an example of. If you agree with me on this, we should put together a search party and nip this in the bud right away. We’ve let it go on for far too long.” He looked out over his people. “We owe it to ourselves and Riverdale to make sure this place is safe for everyone.”  

He paused and decided how to talk about Betty. “As for the hunter, I will pick a handful of you and we will create a search party of our own.  We need to fight back against the lies and propaganda the slayers have spread for decades to end our kind and satisfy their bloodlust.  She killed four of us in cold blood tonight and we need to hit her back and hit hard. She threatens our entire way of life.“

He was silent as he looked over the pack that was now his. He could see the fear in their eyes. These were good people with family, lives and jobs who just happened to be afflicted with a curse. They didn’t deserve the prosecution they were facing.

“Tonight we put our dead to rest and mourn. Let’s tell stories of the people we lost and continue to tell those stories so they are never forgotten.” He swallowed hard as his eyes went dark. “But tomorrow this ends. Tomorrow we kill Betty Cooper.”

[artificialqueens]

Heavy Rain Ch. 2 (Shalaska/Katlaska)- Insomnidelic

AN: I just want to start off by saying how completely overwhelmed I am with the response for the first chapter. All the love is greatly appreciated! I will try to update every few days as my schedule is pretty open for now since school has ended. Thank you all for the encouraging words and I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Justin leans his head back, trying to rest his neck on the uncomfortable pillows the hospital had to offer. How he got here, he was still unsure. The last thing he remembered was getting blackout drunk with Aaron and a few of his friends after Jinkx Monsoon was crowned the winner of Season 5. His stomach turns a little at the thought. Everything had been so confusing since he woke.

He thinks back and tries to piece everything together from the time he opened his eyes until now. He woke up, gave his boyfriend a kiss, and everyone around them stared as if they murdered someone right in front their very eyes. Fucking strange. Michelle had been there, which wasn’t much of a shock. The two had become pretty close during the promotional tour. Aaron had probably called her when they got to the hospital. Let’s see, who else? Jerick was present, which was a little jarring. He definitely considered him a friend but didn’t expect him to go out of his way of celebrating his win to visit him in the hospital. And then there were two complete strangers at his side and three more at the foot of his bed… Odd. He still didn’t have a clue what he did to himself to land in this position. Had he blacked out and fell so hard that he hit his head? He sat in frustration as not one person had come in to tell him what exactly happened.

Aaron was acting weird about all of this too. One of the men that Justin didn’t recognize stormed off after seeing them together and Aaron followed after him. A nurse had walked in and Michelle exchanged whispers with her before the nurse asked everyone to exit and wait in the visitors area before she herself left, Justin now completely alone. He was a little miffed that he hadn’t seen Aaron since he stormed off behind that guy. He sat pouting at the thought. After what had been at least a half hour, the nurse reentered followed by a hunky man in a white coat.

“Hello sir! My name is Dr. Bright, I will be performing your cranial examination today.” The man grinned widely. Justin can almost see himself in his perfect porcelain teeth. He sits up straighter in his bed as he takes in the doctor’s words.

“Examination? Can someone tell me what happened first before you start poking at my head wound?” He huffs, batting the nurse’s hands away as she reached for his bandages.

The doctor chuckles jovially and nods, “Of course, but first do you mind letting us know what all you remember from your incident?” He smiles and waits for a response.

“Yeah sure uh… We were at this bar and I got really wasted. Maybe did a line or two. I don’t really remember, to be honest. I must have blacked out.” Justin says, pouting his lip and shrugging his shoulders.

The doctor sits perplexed at the end of Justin’s bed, gives a slight nod and starts to flip through the pages in Justin’s file.

“Interesting, well your blood results came back and it doesn’t look like there’s any alcohol or drugs in your system. Actually we were informed that you were hit by a lowered support beam, do you remember being on a stage at some point?” The doctor asks expectantly to a befuddled Justin.

He sits quietly, thinking hard about the handsome doctor’s claims. Images of himself spinning wildly to the rhythm of loud, pulsing music flash through his memory before they go completely black. His head aches. Had he been dancing on a stage last night? He remembers holding on tightly to an equally as drunk Aaron as they made their way out of the bar and into a waiting car. The two memories didn’t seem to go together in his mind for some reason.

“None of that rings any bells. Where did you get this information from?” Justin probes, utterly confused.

“We have an eye witness account from a mister “Danny Noriega”, it says here.” The doctor flips the page of the chart over and gestures with a pen to the written statement for Justin to see.

“Well I have no idea who the fuck that is so you definitely got the wrong guy.” Justin chuckles and rolls his eyes. What kind of hospital was this to mix up their patients in such a way?

“I’m so sorry, are you a Mr. Justin Honard?” The doctor asks.

“…Yes.” Justin squeaks nervously.

“Age 32, resident of Los Angeles, California?” The doctor continues his line of questioning.

“No, I’m 28 and I live in Pittsburgh.” Justin narrows his eyes. Dr. Bright’s mouth falls open as he squints and nods.

“Can you tell me what year it is?” The doctor locks eyes with his patient as he starts to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

“2013.” He whispers, bewildered by the doctors inquiry.

Dr. Bright sighs. He looks over at the nurse, the two sharing a grave expression. This was never easy. Justin seemed earnest in his confusion and answered his questions honestly.

“Sir, this might come as a bit of a shock to you, but its 2017.” He nods his head to a calendar on the wall behind Justin. Justin cranes his neck and stares at the offending puppy dog themed agenda before slowly turning back to his physician, eyes wide.

What the fuck?

–

“Please talk to me.” Aaron says in a hushed tone, shutting the privacy curtain connecting the bunk and kitchen area of the tour bus.

“What the hell do you want me to say? Your ex bumps his head and suddenly he’s in love with you again. The whole thing is just a little Days of our lives, don’t you think?” Chad remarks with a bitter laugh, leaning against the counter top, crossing his arms and cocking an eyebrow at his partner.

“You know it’s a lot more than that. He doesn’t remember anything past losing drag race for fuck’s sake. I know what you walked in on looked bad-“ Aaron is cut off by Chad’s raised hand.

“No. What I walked in on WAS bad. Aaron… you were cradling his face.” Chad’s tone concealed no sign of disgust.

“I was not! I was pulling his face off of mine, that’s it.” Even Aaron knew that was a lie. Had there been cradling? Perhaps. Was it intentional? Not at all. It was a reflex, he’d convinced himself. Chad gives him a disbelieving scowl.

“Alright. So you have absolutely zero feelings left for him?” He asks in a flat tone, eyes glassy and a hint of a frown on his lips.

“Absolutely none.” Aaron says confidently without breaking eye contact with his lover.  Chad’s stony expression begins to crumble and he grins softly as Aaron takes a few steps forward, arms out to embrace his fiancé. The two hug and Chad’s breathing calms as Aaron’s affirmation sets in.

“Then you’ll go back to that hospital right now and tell him that you’re over?” Chad says, pulling back, putting his hands gently on either side of Aaron’s face. Aaron didn’t say anything. He stares at Chad for a few seconds and his eyes drift slowly to the floor.

Chad lets out a shaky breath, lowers his head and lets go of Aaron completely, shoving past him to walk to the opposite side of the cramped kitchen. Aaron stares at the cracked linoleum floor. How should he begin to explain himself? It really wasn’t all that difficult to grasp, was it? He simply didn’t want to hurt Justin again. The image of his ex lover’s face when he told him that he wanted to break up still burned in his memory four years later. He couldn’t bear to put him through that a second time. He always thought that if he could go back, he would go about everything a lot differently. He knew they weren’t any good for each other, but he always felt guilty for moving on so quickly, even if he was certainly in love with Chad. Maybe if things were different, if neither of them had become famous, they would still be together. And they would be incredibly happy. Even though the relationship took a sour turn, Aaron wasn’t ready to let go. He wasn’t even able admit this to himself until now.

“Chad, I love you. I don’t want anyone but you. But… I need to find a better way to resolve this issue without putting Justin through the pain I put him through the first time.” Aaron says honestly, trying as hard as he could to keep an even tone.

There was long pause, the two men not moving, or breathing for that matter. Chad is the first to break the silence, finally letting out the air he had been holding in his lungs. He struggled to take all of Aaron’s words in but the overwhelming desire to turn and walk away from the situation began to win over.

“Ok, Aaron. I love you too. So, I’m going to let you do what you think needs to be done. Go ahead and take as long as you need. But in order for me to let you do that, I can’t be around to watch. I’m going home. Call me when you’ve achieved the impossible.” He gives his fiancé a moment to protest, hurt a little when he stays unmoving to stop him, but is unsurprised. Aaron was a man of his word, and when he set out to do something, it was very rare that even Chad could make him change his mind. He turns on his heals and rips the separation curtain back to reveal Danny and Jason listening in on the other side. Chad shakes his head and ambles past them, grabbing his half packed bag and stuffing the remainder of his things in it, giving one last glance back at Aaron still standing in the kitchen.

“I love you.” He says flatly, and makes his way off the bus.

“That was so messy, dude.” Danny says to Aaron, laughing awkwardly.

“I need a drink.” Aaron finally breathes, pushing past the two nosy queens.

“Oooh take us!” Jason pleads.

“No. I need time alone to think about what the fuck I just let happen.” Aaron exits the bus, and as if on cue, the rain starts up again and soaks him as he makes his way to the first bar he could find.

–

It was common knowledge throughout the entire group that Justin had suffered memory loss. Danny, Jason, and Jerick seemed content enough with that information and opted to roam the city with their new free time. Aaron had left the hospital with Chad after Justin’s initial diagnoses, though no one at this time (other than Danny and Jason) knew that Chad had left LA period. Michelle, Brian, and Shane were the only ones to stick around for further details, hoping to have Justin released to them soon.

“The best thing you can do for him right now is to slowly acclimate him to the changes that have occurred over the past four years. Be wary of the information you divulge at one time, you don’t want to shock him too much.” Dr. Bright explains to the few queens left in the waiting room.

“I don’t think you realize how much has happened in the past four years, doc.” Michelle says, sharing a look of disbelief with the other queens. This would be damn near impossible.

Brian sighs and puts his face in his hands. In his worry for an unconscious Justin, perhaps he let his imagination run a little wild. He somehow convinced himself that he was starting to develop feelings for the Queen of Snakes. “I want to kiss you and hold your hand and call you mine” sort of feelings. This was all likely a byproduct of the fear he had that Justin would take a turn for the worse and he would forever live in regret of not making things serious between the two. How could he even think about making things official after one hookup and few flirty conversations here and there? When Justin opened his eyes, he expected all of those feelings to go away and instead be replaced with simple relief that he was okay.

Then he and Aaron kissed and his world came crashing down.

Brian shakes the thought out of his head.

Pull yourself together, Barbara. It was stupid and you let the dread of possibly being alone forever set in, causing you to think weak and foolishly.

He keeps his face in his hands as he fights his internal battle with the idiotic voices inside his head. Weak? A little. Foolish? Not so much. The fact of the matter was that Justin and Aaron were no longer together. He also happened to know that he maybe had possible feelings for Justin that were maybe possibly not completely sexual. Who knew someone could be so attracted to another human being without sex being an integral part of the equation? And as for his last thought, he was almost certain that Aaron still had feelings for Justin. He saw the way he held his face as they… kissed.

God, why did it hurt to think about that?

Brian pulls out his phone and taps on his photo album, scrolling through pages of photos before finding one he had saved since the day it was taken. Even with a new phone every few years, he never lost track of it. It was the only memory he kept of that drunken night he met Alaska for the very first time. He was only a fan back then, obviously. It was May of 2013. The image brings a smile to his face. Katya sits happily on Alaska’s lap, the two smiling, Alaska’s mouth wide open in her signature broad grin.

There has to be a chance that he remembers taking this picture… that he remembers me.

His thoughts come to a halt as he sees two forms walking toward them in his peripheral vision. Justin paces fully clothed in the t-shirt and jeans Michelle thought to bring with them to the hospital. Dr. Beefcake leads his patient toward the waiting queens. Michelle walks slowly toward them, Justin giving her a knowing smile and the two embrace. She steps back and inspects him, fussing over his fresh bandages. She takes his arm and walks him slowly to Shane and Brian a few feet away. Brian locks eyes with Justin, praying he’d see a glint of familiarity in the man’s shiny green irises. Justin smiles and cocks his head.

Yes, this is it! He recognizes me!

“Who the fuck are you?”

Damn.

[aviewfromtheclouds25]

I think I am becoming obsessed with your SSW theory. I think it's interesting that mental health problems tie these couples together. Emma clearly has quite severe problems, Pierce is not very stable, Ashley has dementia (I know it's not a mental illness, but it affects one's thoughts and behaviour and is caused by changes in the brain). But what about Robron? Is Aaron the one with problems or should we think that Rebecca is going to become a bunny boiler or Robert heading for a breakdown?

Welcome to my world, anon! (Are you the same anon as my last post? I literally have no clue haha, but frankly everyone should live in theory realm anyhow.) My favourite thing about the SSW Theory is how expansive it is, it can genuinely incorporate so much and be interpreted in so many different ways. I mean, I can totally see where you’re coming from - in as far as Ashley’s impaired cognitive ability, like you say - but I actually see it differently. For me personally, I feel like the parallels here are the issues at the heart of each of the characters’ problems. So for me, it’s this idea of insecurity and control (the desire for, or lack of - and one of the biggest themes which I actually left out of my last analysis). I’ve said before that I feel like the SSW couples could be split into two camps and I think that extends to this theme of control as well;

Emma/James and Pierce/Rhona - These two storylines have shown one character from each couple (Emma and Pierce) trying to take control, including of their partner.

Ashley/Laurel and Robert/Aaron - These two storylines have been determined by situations outside of the characters’ control (Ashley’s Dementia and Aaron going to prison / Rebecca keeping the baby).

So if we break it all down purely in terms of this relationship between insecurity and control - although I would note that there is also a theme of dependency in each of these storylines - I feel like we can actually get to the root and reason for a lot of the problems in this character group:

Ashley / Laurel - Ashley’s Dementia is not something either of them can control. They are both frustrated by this, and all of their lives are limited and essentially controlled by it. Throughout all of this, we saw Laurel battle against her previous dependency on alcohol as she struggled to keep control of holding her family together. And this dependency added to her feeling insecure and weak. After Ashley’s funeral, we then saw Laurel attempt to take back control over this.

Rhona / Pierce - Pierce is manipulative, possessive, and controlling. We’ve seen this for a long time, but it is only in the latter stages of this arc that Rhona has realised the extent of Pierce’s character. We’ve seen him attempt to control every aspect of her life, and herself. And in the wake of the recent events, we’ve seen Rhona seek the strength to regain control through her old dependency, too, as a coping mechanism. But then she really took back control by seeking help for this and now revealing Pierce’s name to the police. And this is when we see Pierce lose his control…

Emma / James - We know Emma’s always been insecure about James’s history with Moira, even before she knew about Adam. And we learned when Emma first arrived in the village (after being tracked down by Finn…) that her neurotic personality had translated this insecurity into obsession. This is where the theme of dependency comes in here - Emma’s dependency on James and the boys. The fact that she has tied her very existence so completely into their own through her obsessive tendencies. James even references this on the bridge during SSW, he tells her she’s obsessed and that she’s lived without them before so she can do it again. But Emma is adamant she can’t. Because she’s lost everything and is clinging to the one thing she has left - control. She has frequently manipulated people - including Ashley when she needed to control the potential risk of her secret coming out - but most especially James, and when they moved to Wylie’s we saw her behaviour reach a whole new level again. And we’ve since seen her become fixated on this idea of forgiveness and redemption. This is what she’s dependent on now. But when her sons find out the truth about James, all of this will be taken away from her and she will lose all of her control…

I’d also note that Finn shares these neurotic tendencies as Emma pointed out, especially those leaning towards obsession, and that’s how we saw his grief manifest itself - through his obsession with Kasim, which provided the major catalyst for Robron’s own storyline…

Aaron / Robert - Robron are interesting, because they are the only couple who are being controlled by an outside influence. Yes, Ashley and Laurel were also being controlled, but this was from Ashley’s Dementia which was a physiological influence from within. This is why in that SSW promo video, we saw Robron pushed apart by that fog - rather than circled like Rhona/Pierce and Emma/James - and Ashley not surrounded but consumed by the fog. The fog effectively represents each couple’s relationship with control.

So Robron’s external influences are Aaron’s sentencing and stint in prison, followed by Rebecca’s pregnancy and decision to keep the baby. They can’t control either of these things. So what do we see? We see them lose control. Robert had tried to keep a hold of the situation through maintaining everything in the outside world for when Aaron returned. But this fell to pieces when he and Aaron broke up. Robert lost everything. The only thing he had left to cling to was control. And the one person he knew he could..? Rebecca.

But why did Robron break up? Because of that stupid row, instigated by Aaron’s actions in prison. Actions which were borne from Aaron’s need to take control of his situation with Jason in that prison. And in what form did that take? Aaron’s dependencies. But if we remember how it began, he wanted to be in control of himself and his pain when Liv first went to visit him that day…

Both Robert and Aaron tried to take control of their situation through their self-destructive behaviour. Which is how they lost control of the whole plot. But we’ve seen them start to regain it - Robert confessed to Aaron when no other character - or situation that he knew of - was pushing him to, he made that choice; and Aaron chose to see his counsellor rather than hit self-destruct and turn back to his dependencies. He chose to forgive Robert. He might not be there yet, but he took back control - the control Robert had willingly given him with his confession - by refusing to allow the situation to dictate his marriage.

Because the one fact that has been the overwhelming constant throughout the whole of this storyline? Aaron and Robert’s dependency on each other. And that’s one thing they’ve never been able to control.

As for Rebecca, as much as I totally stand by and am rooting for the bunny boiler / black widow theory, the only concrete facts again are the fact that she has been controlling this entire plot - it isn’t her plot, but her ever-changing character has been driving the entire narrative; and the fact that she has shown her dependency on Robert. And I think the closest we’ll get to the Robert breakdown - aside from during the reveal when he was worrying about Aaron - will be him grieving over the fact that he isn’t about to become a dad, after all.

I don’t know if this makes any sense, anon. I totally see your point, but I kind of just interpret it differently. For me, the vast majority of all four of these story arcs stem from the themes of insecurity and control, including the pattern you’ve pointed out. And I think this has been consistent right from the start, so I’m not sure it’s building to a particular point in this aspect. But this is literally just my interpretation, because as I keep saying there are genuinely so many different ways to read all of this. And to be honest, that’s my favourite thing about this theory. :)

[basshouse]

Kids and FAQs

And now for my best Terry Gross Impression:  If you're just joining me, my guest is Ashley Bass.  Ashley moved with her husband and two children from Seattle to New Zealand in May of 2018.  In early 2019 she started blogging about her experiences as an expatriate, parent, and regular person living life in a different part of the world.  The blog started as the best way she could think of to tell lots of people at one time how the family is doing and what the move had been like, but it turns out it’s also serving as a way to consider and learn from her personal experiences.  In this segment, she’ll try to answer some of the Questions she is Frequently Asked by her friends and family.  

Welcome back to the program!  I started this set of blog posts a few weeks back with “how we got here” and moved on to “where we are.”  Now we’re in the “what we are are doing” part of the blog, and to be honest, I have struggled with how to approach it because  I have so much to tell you about.  At least, so much to tell you about if I work under the assumption that you’re interested in fairly mundane details of a day-to-day life that sounds pretty standard...school,  work.  travel. sport. exploration. drinks. food.  Although, it seems like a fair assumption that you want to hear about it all since you’re reading this blog and anyway isn't that what facebook and Instagram are all about -- constant insight into nothing and everything all the time?!?  Well, blogs may be old school but they give me lots of room for detail. 

Or maybe you just read this blog for the pictures...?  You could just follow me on Instagram (_ashley_bass_), but we live in a world of instant gratification and high expectations, so here! 

That’s Jason and James playing header ping pong on a cement table with a soccer ball.  Didn't expect that, did you? Me either. And yet it makes so much sense. 

As part of my effort to tell you what we are doing, I was drafting a summary of the places we have been and the things we have done/seen since we’ve been in NZ.  It was pages long...we’ve done a lot.  When I think about writing it all in a blog post I can only think of a phrase James uses all the time: “oosh.”  Or maybe it’s “ush”?  I guess it’s more of a sound than a phrase; it’s a kind of a take on the traditional “oof” but slightly less physically pained and a little more overwhelmed.  I like it, and it works in this case, and is one of the only terms I could steal from James and use in a blog.  Another option for using a James phrase would have been “butt cheek,” because he's a 17 year old boy with a vocabulary that has been stripped down to the modern version of caveman.  His catch phrases are “butt cheek” (usually used confrontation with Anily); “bot” (used in confrontation with Anily but also safe enough to apply to me and Jason when we do something he thinks is stupid, which is most things); and a wide variety of aggressive sounds that spill from his room during an especially frustrating moment of playing Fortnite or FIFA -- he has headphones on and is playing online with other people so he’s especially loud and shockingly vocal and foul mouthed. Apparently he plays with a guy named “Monkey” on the regular and seems to be either super annoyed by or excited about Monkey at any given time.  Lots of yelling.  Ooosh.  

So I guess he’s a pretty regular teenage boy.  For example, I suspect it’s regular that he SUCKS at doing dishes but THINKS he is convincing when he argues about the relative fairness of his doing dishes versus Anily’s job of taking out the trash bins but UNABLE to comprehend the fact that we actually don't care at all about fairness.  But listen, he’s still sweet and he’s overall a really good kid.  And he got great results on his first round of NZ High School exams!  

So one way I can think to report on the goings-on is to try to report on the Qs people ask me pretty F(requently) when I have the chance to catch up on the phone, or the Qs I imagine you’d ask me if you had extra time to wonder about my life, the Qs I would ask you and sometimes ask myself about moving so far away to a brand new place.  For example, here’s one I have been asked more than once: Do you have an accent?  Well, yeah, duh -- an American one! Seriously, I sometimes realize that when I think people are listening intently to what I have to say they are literally just trying to figure out what I am saying. I haven't yet adopted a new way of delivering sentences but small common Kiwi expressions are starting to creep in to my vocabulary.  James is the most Kiwi of us all when it comes to speaking, probably because he has the most consistent exposure to it from school and from online gaming. E.g. “Oy, Monkey, what the fuck?!”  Or “Good one, mate, go Monkey go!”  

One of the most Frequently Asked Questions I get (both from US friends and people I meet here who find out that we moved across the world in the middle of the kids’ most formative school years) is “how are the kids doing?”   The short answer is that I think they are doing really well.  I can't say whether they like it better here than Seattle, but they do like it, and they don’t hate us (at least  not too much or too often, and this would likely have been the case in Seattle too).  They miss their friends in Seattle, of course.  They miss American Ketchup.  They miss American Netflix.  But they have friends here and they're doing well in school and playing soccer and futsal and indoor soccer, so in a lot of ways it’s business as usual (but less likely they’ll get shot). 

A few things are different:   For one, Anily and James will go to school together for the next two years.  IN UNIFORMS.  Including a kilt for Anily which is just heinous. if I’m honest.  Although having uniforms is great  -- no need to think about what to wear, no pressure to buy certain clothes or shoes; it’s actually super weird that the US doesn't do uniforms, when the rest of the world pretty much does.  But anyway, they would never have gone to school together again in Seattle, but because the school year is January - December and high school is 5 years, James is about to start the equivalent of junior year and Anily will start high school at the same school next week.  She says she’s too small to go to high school but as far as I can see, she's gotten pretty big!  

Since we have been in NZ, James turned 17 and Anily turned 13.  Yeah, Jason and I had birthdays too.  So not only are we OLD, we are re living in a house with two teenagers.  And even though they are quite teenager-y, one of the best things about moving to NZ is how much time we spend together and how much we have shared in this journey. 

Here’s a fun story, and one of those times I wish I’d been recording the world around me:  On Anily’s 13th birthday we went paddle boarding down the Avon River. For those of you from San Antonio, the Avon is kind of like the San Antonio Rover -- it winds through town, creates some nice views, and is probably 2 feet deep and 15 wide in it’s largest parts.  It’s lovely, but it’s leaning pretty heavily on the creek side of “river.”  But it’s water and we have paddle boards and it was a super nice day out and I had decided on the previous Friday while I was having beers at the Craft Embassy and looking out over the river that it must be floatable.  I was pretty sure we could handle any rapids we might encounter and I might have felt a slide need to redeem myself after our recent canoe trip down the Whanganui River (more later).  So I was pretty intent on making it happen.  According to the city, the Avon is a “great source of recreation for walkers and boaters.” But the only official information I could find ANYWHERE about how to recreate in it was a suggestion to go punting, aka have a guy in formal clothes and broad brim hat push you with a pole though a section of the river that goes through the botanic gardens.  Which I think probably is nice but can you see me on this flat thing when I could be controlling my own destiny with some light paddling on a just-slightly-underinflated paddle board with James on the front of it and Anily and Jason beside me on another, slightly-better-inflated one?  

No!  We parked a car at one end of town, drove to the other, put the boards in the water without a clue as to whether it was legal, and floated past the punters (take that punters!), through the traffic jam in the botanic gardens (learn how to paddle forward, people!), got out with the eels at the Craft Embassy, drank some beers and ate some snacks, got back in and kept floating.  It was only when we made another stop at the park that things took a dramatic turn. Anily slipped on the way off the board onto the landing.  Jason held out the paddle for her to catch her balance, she slipped, the paddle knocked her tooth out.  Like, into pieces.  There was a Japanese tourist looking at the eels (yes, more of them!) and I heard him say “ooh shattered!” as pieces of enamel flew through the air. Oh, and I lost my keys. Is this why we were the only people on the entire river -- is it cursed?! I’d do it again, we did not get to finish and we only had to walk once or twice.  So when you visit, let me know if you’re up for it and I’ll put some air in the paddlboards and buy you a mouth guard.  

We did get to file our first ACC claim as a result -- ACC covers everyone in New Zealand with a no-fault scheme if they've been injured in an accident. A little more Kiwi by the day.  

Eels in the river: 

Anily’s tooth: 

Oosh (Ush?) is right!  Real, truly, though, we’ve had a lot of family fun here and the kids are both pretty awesome.  At least they go along with my crazy ideas some of the time (Jason almost always does, which I really appreciate, because he’s much better at execution on these things.  Like, with the river, he's the one who suggested wearing shoes, which turned out to be very useful). I’m happy to be able to spend so much time with the kids, more than I was able to figure out how to do in Seattle,  and I think this has been a great learning and growth experience for Team Bass. One thing we learned?  Don’t be too close to a paddle if you’re on a slippery boat landing in a river full of eels :-) 

Oh also!  Anily got a cat for her birthday: