#but anyways. alysia sure is a name...

[cottageivy]

i want to rename some of my sim ocs bc i named them in like 2018 and i kinda hate some of them, but i feel bad going back and changing them bc like. those are their names as shit as they are asdjksad

[violetsmoak]

Tabula Rasa [1/?]

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

Blanket Disclaimer

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

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

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

Canon-Compliance: Follows the New Earth continuity, with elements of New 52 (ie the ones that don’t completely contradict everything that happened pre-Flashpoint). Ignores Rebirth completely. So, up to about 2016 in terms of publication dates? Robins War happened, but Red Hood hasn’t met Artemis or Bizarro, and nothing bad has happened to Roy ffs! 

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

________________________________________________________________

“Three cheers for the happy couple!”

The south wing ballroom of Wayne Manor erupts with the raucous shouts and applause of a hundred and twenty reception attendees. Tim’s congratulations get lost in the din, but he does catch Dick’s eye and flash him a thumbs up.

Seated at the high table, his older brother leans in and kisses his bride, which causes more cheering and catcalls from the guests, and makes the normally unflappable and newly named Barbara Gordon-Grayson blush.

Tim turns away and pastes a smile on his face as the Davenports, a senior couple and two of Wayne Enterprises' most influential shareholders, approach him.

Time to be ‘on’ again…

A generous mix of family friends (most of whom are vigilantes or heroes), and GCPD officers, fill the ballroom. These are interspersed with a few Haly’s Circus performers, and the requisite number of elite guests required by the Society pages of the Gotham Gazette.

Bride and bridegroom sit at the head table with their respective entourages, engaged in animated chatter. Babs and her maid of honor Alysia dissolve into laughter as Dick says something to Damian, who scowls and turns redder by the minute. The Gordon family is there, the Commissioner conversing in stiff politeness with his ex-wife Barbara, and Bruce is in full “Brucie” mode. In the background, Alfred directs the hired staff with his usual decorum and efficiency.

Across the room, Cassandra drags Stephanie over to the dance floor. At a smaller round table near the bride and groom, Duke just misses being speared with a fork by his girlfriend when he tries to sneak a piece of Izzy’s cake. Helena flirts with both Luke and Kate and Tim’s sure Selina is somewhere in the house stealing something to lure Bruce over to her place later.

It’s rare to have so many members of the family together in one room, and so Tim does his best to ignore the lingering dismay at the glaring absence in their numbers.

Dick and Babs look at each other now and again, like they’re the only ones in the world, and he makes an effort to find it adorable. He bolsters the jovial front he’s been wearing all night, reminding himself that his happiness for his brother and new sister-in-law isn’t something that needs faking. It took so long for them to sort everything out between them; it goes to show that being soulmates doesn’t equal an automatic perfect relationship.

I know that better than anyone.

It’s just getting more difficult with every passing hour to maintain the graceful Timothy Drake-Wayne façade.

“It will be your turn next,” Mrs. Davenport informs him, while her husband nods along. “Since Richard and dear Cassandra have found their matches, you’re the only one left.”

Tim’s smile becomes a little more forced. “Well, there is Damian.”

The demon brat looks as if he swallowed a mouthful of peppercorns as Brucie leans over and ruffles his hair, laughing his raucous fake laugh.

Now I’m glad Dick didn’t ask me to be his best man, or I’d be the chump stuck up there.

Not that he was that upset when he heard the news.

Tim’s distanced himself enough from the loss of Robin to accept Damian needs as much help as they can offer if he is ever to be a ‘real boy’. Little gestures like this from Dick are part of a larger plan. And it was endearing, in a way, to see the kid stomping around in the weeks leading up to the wedding, trying to check off a list of best man duties he’d printed off the internet.

And dissolving into teenaged fury when innocent things went wrong or when the groom teased him by flouting what Damian considered ‘according to convention’.

And then there was that bachelor party he organized…

It would seem extreme trampoline parks were a thing; also, getting banned from said parks within an hour for trampolining while drunk was a thing.

“Yes, but he’s still so…young,” Mrs. Davenport says, bringing him back to the present. Tim perceives how she hesitates on the best word to describe the youngest member of the Wayne family.

“It’s fine, you can call him a prepubescent terror. I always do.”

“Oh, Timothy!” Garish laughter as if he told the most hilarious joke of the season. “You are such a character. Why haven’t you found your someone yet?”

Tim catches sight of Steph once again, dancing with Cass and looking carefree and blissful and in love. And this time it’s a bit harder to experience only joy for his siblings, more of a struggle to fight the pang of hurt and jealousy that rears its head.

“You’re almost eighteen,” her husband remarks, interrupting his thoughts. “Most people find their matches much younger. Eleanor and I met when we were fourteen.”

“Oh, it was a beautiful summer in the Hamptons.”

“And it seems like youth today are finding each other earlier every year.”

“My sister and Stephanie didn’t,” Tim points out, only somewhat strained because that one still stings.

He and Steph had been together for most of their teenage years. She hadn’t possessed a soulmark, and Tim’s…would lead nowhere. He truly loved her, and if things were different, he knows they would have had a happy future. Lots of people whose marks don’t match are.

But then the day Spoiler and Black Bat met, they’d shaken hands, and everything fell into place. He’ll never forget either of their eyes—Steph bemused as her mark appeared for the first time and then exploded into color across her forearms; Cass puzzled until she realized what was happening. Then her face became an open book of joy rivaled only by how she looked when Bruce told her he intended to adopt her.

Faced with their happiness, it was only natural that Tim took a step back, much as it hurt to do.

“Perhaps your soulmate lives in another country,” Mr. Davenport suggests; it is clear he is not picking up on Tim’s reluctance.

“Oh!” his wife cries. “You should go on that television show they have now! You know, the one where they try to help you track down your match? I can’t remember the name, but it’s something like The Amazing Race or the Bachelorette.”

“Perhaps yours is younger than you. That happens sometimes.”

“Yes! May-December relationships aren’t that uncommon with your generation, I hear.”

“Or maybe they’re dead,” Tim suggests, and though his tone is light and friendly, his words shut them up in an instant.

Because if very well could be true.

Tim’s never shown off his mark in public, and he told Steph that exact story when she asked all those years ago. At the time, he wasn’t even lying.

Soulmarks develop around puberty and last the duration of the lifespan of the shorter-lived partner. Some people are born with several, the way Dick was, and some only share platonic or familial bonds, like Alfred and Bruce. Others have none at all. When a soulmate dies, the mark associated with them vanishes.

That’s because most don’t come back from the dead.

Still smiling at the now cringing couple, Tim takes his leave, letting them stew in their faux pas as he wanders toward the bride and groom’s table. He’s reached his limit.

Not wanting to crouch down in the middle of their group, he gestures until his brother sees him and makes an excuse to Babs. She’s following his gaze, offering Tim a worried look, but he smiles and shakes his head, trying to telegraph ‘It’s nothing. Go back to your celebration.’

Dick is red-faced and his eyes brighter than usual when he gets to Tim; people been plying him with generous amounts of alcohol all day. “Hey, Timmy, what’s up?”

“I think I‘ll make my way out,” he replies. “Do a bit of patrolling and then turn in.”

“Tim…”

Dick’s expression becomes concerned, and Tim shifts in discomfort.

“Someone has to be on the streets while you guys are slacking,” he jokes. “You know it took an Act of Alfred to get Bruce to take the night off, right?”

(It was also pointed out that if any of big players had planned anything tonight, probability and precedent suggested they would try it at the Gordon-Grayson reception.)

“You don’t have to do that! I’ve already got one brother missing.”

“Consider this my wedding present. You get to stay and enjoy your party with the rest of the family.”

“You’re just trying to worm your way of giving us a real gift,” Dick accuses, but the words lack malice. With a surreptitious glance around to ensure they aren’t being overheard, he lowers his voice and asks, “Are things getting bad again? Do you need to talk? Because Babs won’t mind if I duck out for a bit.”

And he’s always doing this, checking in with Tim, even years after it’s been an issue.

There’s a distinct possibility Dick has noticed how uncomfortable the atmosphere is making him, despite him doing his utmost to hide it, to keep from casting a dark cloud over the festivities.

And Tim should be okay.

Bruce is back from having lost his memories, Damian’s stopped his determined attempts to sabotage or kill him, his relationship with Dick is almost normal again, he has his team and place with the Titans, and there hasn’t been a major crisis in Gotham for about a month which is a record.

Yet he still feels raw and exposed, ill at ease in his skin.

Bruce has been questioning him a lot more, criticizing the way he handles not only cases but projects at WE. Tim worries there’s less time for him to recover between being Tim Wayne, CEO, and Red Robin. And the Titans are getting to the age where many of them want to strike out on their own or pursue more civilian interests—jobs and schools and a normal life. He respects that, even if he doesn’t understand it.

He has never had a normal life, and never will.

But he does have more and more days now where he looks at himself in the mirror and wonders how he’s supposed to keep doing this forever. Can’t figure out how Bruce has managed it for so long. Tim suspects he’s becoming little more than his daytime public persona and his nighttime alter ego.

Who exactly is Tim Drake?

Instead of voicing any of this, though, he musters up a comforting smile for his brother and assures him, “There’s nothing to talk about. It’s like every day. Just one step at a time, right?”

Dick’s expression clears then, and he nods, relieved. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

“And Dick?”

“Yeah?”

“Congrats.”

“Aw, thanks, Timmy.”

A bone-crushing hug later, and Tim’s car peels out of the estate parking garage, still ignoring the growing pit in his stomach.

He returns to his apartment in the Theater District, shedding his suit and tie in a pile that Alfred would have a coronary over if he were there to see it. Jumping in the shower, he scrubs himself of any traces of his cologne or other identifying scents he might have picked up at the reception and tries to get himself back into a clearer headspace.

He pauses for a moment at the sink, trying to shake off the lingering, bone-deep exhaustion. Several prescription bottles line the mirror—various sleeping aids, most of which don’t help anymore (but the rebound insomnia of stopping them isn’t worth the trouble). These days it’s only the heavy-duty sleep narcotics that work when he needs to turn his brain off for a few hours.

Among the personal pharmacy are several combinations of anti-depressants he tried in the past few months. Most of the time he powers through it, the way he’s done his whole life, but in recent weeks Tim’s noticed things getting hard again. The helpful alerts he sets on his phone don’t always convince him to leave his bed and even video games lack the usual draw. He sometimes gets lost in his head for hours; on bad nights, he hesitates a second longer before shooting a grapple line or dodging a knife. In rare moments, he considers his sleeping pills a little too much consideration, at which point he calls Dick or Connor. Talks to someone so he isn’t so alone.

As he dries off, Tim stares down at his right wrist, examining the complicated knotwork design emblazoned there. Swirls of crimson and gold loop in and out of each other, before cutting off along his forearm.

Everyone has a soulmark, an arrangement of swirling shapes across their skin; each is distinctive to the individuals bonded by them. They first appear when a person is in the general vicinity of their soulmate, manifesting as a colorless pattern of darker and lighter shades of melanin. Those patterns fill with bright, rich colors upon physical touching one’s mate. When pressed together, they interlock in only one way and retreat when contact stops.

Soulmates who have reciprocated bonds sport their marks in full and everlasting display. The sight is both beautiful and frustrating to see, even on his family, as he’ll never experience that himself.

His mark might be a stunning amalgamation of scarlet and gold, twisted into a mandala upon his wrist, but it will never be permanent. While it’s been a while since Jason’s made any energetic attempts to kill him, Tim’s resigned himself to living without a completed bond; tolerance is about the only thing he can hope for from his predecessor.

Finding Steph when they were younger had been a joy and a relief. Her not having a mark meant they both had a chance for a fulfilling connection. Until Cass.

Tim forces himself to stop dwelling on it and shoves the bleak thoughts down behind the wall he puts everything uncomfortable and not cohesive to whatever task he’s given himself. Instead, he busies himself with covering up his mark using the spray-on cover that doesn’t fade with water or perspiration, only coming off when scrubbed with a special soap. One of Bruce’s earliest and more practical inventions, since Brucie Wayne and Batman couldn’t have a soulmark in common.

Bruce covers his pretty much all the time, but Tim’s only been covering his when he suits up. He lives his life in disguise, he doesn’t want to hide such an important part of himself when he’s off the clock.

He heads down to the lower levels of his Nest, gets dressed while having the computer scan for trouble. The program calculates probabilities for where violence will crop up, where he should begin his patrol. He hopes for a busy night, something to distract him from his convoluted thoughts.

As usual, he intends to start his rounds off in Tricorner, and then go through Chinatown—which is when he notices movement on a camera that concerns him.

A familiar gleaming scarlet helmet.

Red Hood.

He debates with himself for several minutes.

On the one hand, it’s his regular patrol territory; on the other, seeing the other vigilante tonight, while his mood is already so low, isn’t something he wishes to contend with.

He clenches his fist.

He knew of Jason Todd for a year before discovering the second Robin was his soulmate. By the time he wanted to do anything about it, the older boy was dead, and Tim consigned to grieving in secret.

Then Jason came back, but it was almost worse than him being gone because he hated him. Without having ever met him.

Even now that he’s mellowed out (sort of), Jason appears to reserve more dislike for his successor than anyone else in the family, not counting Bruce and Dick for obvious reasons. Red Hood and Red Robin have run into each other enough in and out of costume that there have been ample opportunities for Jason’s soulmark to make itself known. That Tim has seen nothing close to resembling it means one of two things: either the other man hasn’t developed his mark yet, which is possible albeit rare, or he has, and like Batman, always keeps it covered.

Which says more than enough about his sentiments on the matter.

Between Jason refusing to acknowledge their connection, or just not being aware of it, Tim prefers to believe the latter, if only to make himself feel better. There’s no point in bringing up the soulmate thing at this juncture. He decided years ago to respect the status quo, for the simple reason it’s less painful than the alternative.

All that being said, he doesn’t enjoy watching Jason get in trouble, even more so when the situation is avoidable and he’s near enough to help. At the moment the big idiot is courting a potential gang war.

Sometimes protecting someone means protecting them from themselves and their bad choices, I guess.

Static crackles through the comm in his ear, and then he hears Batman’s low growl. “What’s going on in Chinatown?”

“Why am I not surprised you’re still listening to the comms at your son’s wedding,” Tim sighs. “Nothing. I’m handling it.”

“Are you sure?”

“B, I’ll help A drug you every day for a week,” he threatens. “And you know we both can and will find new and interesting ways of doing it.”

There’s a huff on the other side of the line. “…Noted. Reach out if you need backup.”

“You’ll be the first.”

“You’re lying.”

“Wow, you must be a detective or something,” he deadpans. “Red Robin out.”

Jason is the last person he wants to run into right now, but Tim’s also been cultivating a few informants there and he can’t have that jeopardized.

Looks like I’m going to Chinatown. Hope Lynx is in a good mood…

He wonders if tonight he’ll end up getting beaten up, or just insulted. He’s not even sure which would hurt more.

⁂

Jason goes flying out of the upper story of the restaurant, followed closely by a very tiny woman wielding a very big sword. She reminds him of Cheshire, with a shade less lethality.

Actually, if it were Jade, he would end up critically injured when she lands on him, using him as a cushion against the pavement. He manages to turn his body to land in a way that won’t break his back—though his right side will be a giant bruise tomorrow—and scrambles to his feet.

This is one of the reasons I avoid Chinatown.

Things never go well for him here, especially not since that thing with the Su family. It’s just better to avoid the place. But before that, he and the Ghost Dragons at least used to get along—professional courtesy and all that, along with an unspoken agreement not to step on each other’s toes. 

That’s over, apparently.

All he’d wanted to do was ask some questions. One of his stool pigeons passed him some information on a human trafficking ring; according to him, it was based on Chinatown. It would seem sex slavers were luring young women over to the United States with the premise of work and accommodations.  Then, upon arrival, the girls were hauled into a life of sexual servitude.

Jason didn’t even go in guns blazing this time or wearing the helmet. Just a domino and a hankering for some barbecue pork bun.

So, either someone tipped them off what I was coming around for, or this kid in the mask has something to prove.

There’s a slow curl of heat moving up the back of his left wrist and up his arm, and his first thought is he’s been cut. Except while the sensation is familiar, it isn’t the liquid warmth of blood.

The woman moves fast, and a beat later her sword is swinging downward. Jason’s hands fly to his holsters, thinking he’s going to have to break out the guns after all when there’s a clang.

Suddenly there’s a bō staff in front of his face, catching the sword inches before it slams into Jason’s nose.

Ah. And there’s the other reason I avoid Chinatown.

Because in the past year or so, it’s been part of the patrol route for a certain Timothy Drake.

A.k.a. his replacement.

A.k.a. Red Robin.

A.k.a. his soulmate.

No wonder that warmth in his hand was familiar; the soulmark must have reacted to the younger man’s approach.

After a brief tussle, there’s the sound of a grapple line firing, and then Tim flies upward, ridiculous cape fluttering, still holding the struggling woman.

Her sword stays on the ground.

“Oh, hell no,” Jason growls, because this is his business, damn it!

When he reaches the roof where Tim’s carried off Jason’s would-be-murderer, he notes they are standing close together, conversing in rapid Cantonese. Jason’s rustier at that than he’d like, but he gets the gist when the woman stalks right up to him and begins yelling and gesturing.

Then she shoves him and pushes away; a smoke bomb goes off, and then she’s gone.

Tim makes no move to go after her.

Which, seriously?

Jason stalks over, looming over the shorter man and touching his hand to the still holstered gun in his belt in an implicit (and mostly baseless) threat. He’s always amused at just how much of a height difference there is between him and his replacement, and tonight he makes a point of lording it over him.

“You guys looked awfully cozy there, Timbers.” Which shouldn’t bother him, but he can’t fight a twinge of irritation. “Care to share with the class what your little tête-à-tête was about?”

The cowl covers Tim’s face, but Jason can imagine the judgemental stare.

“She said your poking around her territory will jeopardize her investigation into the sex traffickers.”

“Her investigation? She’s the damn head of the Ghost Dragons!”

“Yeah, and she’s also an undercover operative sent by Hong Kong PD, which I’m only telling you, so you don’t decide to go and kill her for apparent crimes.”

And that was not what he was expecting.

“How do you know this?”

“She told me. She’s one of my CIs.”

“And you believed her?”

“Cass looked into her for me. She’s legit, even if she’s a little…unorthodox.” Tim’s head tilts to one side, considering; with the cowl it makes him look like his avian namesake. “You’d think you’d appreciate that.”

“On the list of things I don’t appreciate, you showin’ up while I’m chasin’ a lead is one of them,” Jason growls. “Don’t you have a party to be at?”

“I ducked out early.”

“Well, that’s lame.”

“Not as lame as someone who ignores the fifteen invitations he was sent.”

Ah, and now they’re back on familiar ground.

“Pfft, I’ve seen enough Brucie to last me several lifetimes.”

“Yeah, but it was for Dick. All you had to do was show up—” his mouth twitches here; Jason can’t tell if it’s amusement or irritation, “—in jeans, even.”

“I’ve been dead once; I don’t need Alfie murderin’ me for that big a faux pas. And somehow I doubt Barbie would appreciate if her wedding photos included Dickiebird sporting a swollen eye.”

Tim sighs. “What are you fighting about this time?”

“Other than the usual stuff? We’re not. But I’m sure he’d put his foot in it at some point and need a nice bit of cognitive recalibration.”

“And you, the perfectly innocent party in all this, would happily provide that?”

“Call it a civic duty.”

Tim shakes his head, but Jason thinks it’s done in amusement this time, instead of exasperation.

“I don’t know how she can settle for that birdbrain,” he continues. “How does she stand bein’ around him so often without wantin’ to punch him in the face every time he opens his mouth?”

“Maybe not every time.”

“Point still stands.”

“Well, they’re soulmates,” Tim says vaguely, distant like he’s not paying attention to what he’s saying. He fiddles with his wrist computer, giving no indication that he is aware of anything else.

Jason’s pretty sure that’s not the case.

After all, he’s practiced in the art of pretending not to feel how his soulmark warms the closer he stands to Tim. There’s no question Tim’s learned to do the same.

It might be hypocritical of him, but that makes him angry somehow.

“As if that explains it all,” Jason sneers. “Come on, Replacement, I thought out of all of them, your whole logical-scientific-question-everything-Klingon-mind wouldn’t go for that hokey soulmate crap.”

“Vulcan.”

That brings him up short. “What?”

“It’s Vulcan culture that’s more focussed on logicality and empirical data-gathering. Klingons are more combat-oriented and tend toward more aggressive means of…” He trails off when he realizes Jason staring at him. “What?”

“You complete nerd,” Jason tells him. “No wonder you left the wedding early. I bet socializin’ with normal people probably stressed you right the fuck out, didn’t it?”

Tim gives a noncommittal shrug.

“Havin’ a soulmate doesn’t mean people should be together,” Jason goes on, filled with the sudden need to hammer home this point. “Look at all the examples from history—Cleopatra and Antony, Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn, Bonnie and Clyde—” He ticks the couples off his finger. “They were all soulmates and they all either made each other miserable or got each other killed.”

“You can’t apply a few historical anomalies to every soulmate pair,” Tim counters. “Life circumstances skew the data.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that fate shouldn’t decide if people will magically work out!”

“That’s not…” Tim appears frustrated, at last, putting down his wrist computer and clenching his jaw. “It’s not supposed to work out magically. It’s about finding the person who completes you. You still need to work at it. It’s not all magically going to fall in place, and you’ll be happy forever right away. Even soulmates don’t get to live perfect lives.”

Ain’t that the truth, Jason muses, considering Tim.

“Sounds like you want a soulmate,” he points out, a little stiffly, and what the hell possessed him to say that?

He wonders what the kid is going to say now, or if this is the day their careful pretense, the lie of not knowing gets shattered.

Luckily, though, Tim avoids opening that can of worms.

He takes a step back from Jason, looks away and mutters, “It’s not relevant to the Mission.” Which is a total cop-out, but Jason will take it. “Anyway, if you’re done causing trouble here and riling up the gangs, I’ll take my leave.”

“Wish you would.”

Tim shoots him an unimpressed glare—or at least, that’s what it seems like to Jason. “Don’t make me come back here. And for god’s sake, at least call and congratulate the happy couple.”

He grapples away rather than allow a witty retort; Jason watches him go with a scowl. Once he’s sure the other vigilante is gone, he tugs the glove off his left hand, frowning at the whorls of crimson and yellow retreating down his forearm and back to his wrist.

His soulmark appeared one night a few evenings before the Garzonas incident. Jason vaguely remembers swinging through an alley to escape yet another argument with Bruce and knocking out a bunch of thugs threatening a kid. He’d been so buzzed on adrenaline and fury he hadn’t noticed the warmth in his wrist. He only caught sight of the mark itself when he returned to the Cave.

And then he spent the night wondering if one of the assholes he knocked around was his soulmate. It wasn’t a comforting idea, and he’d decided then and there to cover up the mark and forget about it. The disappointment about his potential soulmate had been a contributing factor in a long line of shit the universe decided to dump on him that sent him to Ethiopia. If he was linked to scum like that, he wanted to be as far as possible from Gotham.

It never even occurred to him to imagine the kid in the alley was his match. Hell, it didn’t even register when he discovered that Tim Drake had been following Batman and Robin around for years.

Only that day at the Tower, when Jason made his first move against Batman and attacked his replacement, did he finally make the connection.

His mark reacted the minute they were in the same room, spreading across his skin and swirling about seeking its partner. Jason had been so far gone with rage that the sight of it had made him angrier, made him hit harder—because if he didn’t meet Tim before, it meant their bond hadn’t been strong enough to keep him from making the biggest mistake of his life.

It meant he was supposed to meet him after being ripped apart and rebuilt as a weapon.

Luckily, or not, Tim was unconscious before the manifested completed, sneaking out from beneath the long green gauntlets of Jason’s fake Robin suit.

And if he did happen to notice before passing out, the kid hasn’t said anything about it.

Probably hates me and doesn’t want to acknowledge the universe’s idea of a shit joke.

Jason doesn’t blame him. Soulmates are a crock of shit anyway, and Tim’s better off without being tethered to him, and vice versa. They should keep pretending.

Because Jason doesn’t get to be happy.

And Tim deserves better than him because Tim—as much as he’s a pain in the ass—is good.

“And on that note,” Jason murmurs to himself, putting his gauntlet back on, “time to play the villain.”

The tip he received put him in the Ghost Dragons’ crosshairs—which means someone on his payroll is making a move, either against him or against someone else.

Time to find out for sure.

And no more moping over this soulmate crap.

Johnny Lino is the head of an investment company that’s just a front for his money laundering. He’s been passing the Red Hood information about his clients for the better part of a year now, ever since Jason put the fear of Hood in him. Quite a feat, considering the man’s a few inches taller and broader.

Jason finds him in a condo off the Diamond District, watching the Knights game and stuffing his face with pretzels.

Ponzi schemes don’t buy manners, I guess.

“Johnny,” he greets in a clear, would-be friendly manner that has the older man choking up his most recent handful. “Long time no see. Got a bone to pick with you.”

He expects there to be some mumbling and groveling, a few bald-faced lies that require the generous application of foot to face and the reassurance that everything in Jason’s sandbox is back to the way it should be.

So, it surprises him when Johnny scrambles for something that Jason notes too late is a panic button. All of a sudden, half a dozen masked men in combat gear and carrying assault rifles are busting through the door.

“That’s a bit of an overreaction to some conversation, don’t ya think?” Jason asks, throwing himself into action to deal with the interlopers. Bullets fly and knives slice toward him, but in five minutes he’s standing in the ruins of the room with six unconscious men.

And one dead one.

Johnny’s got a neat hole in the side of his head, from one of his hired muscle’s guns, Jason presumes.

“And doesn’t that say a lot about the quality of hired muscle in Gotham these days?” he grumbles, kicking at the body. “Can’t even trust your own people not to shoot you by accident.”

He can hear sirens, knows a neighbor or someone has called in the noise and heads for the fire exit before anyone can link him to the scene. That’s all he needs is the big Bat thinking he pulled the trigger in there.

And damn it, the giant bastard was one of my best sources. Now I’ve got to find someone else.

The encounter bothers him.

He’s had people on his payroll get shifty before, but it’s been his experience that there’s more of a prelude before the attempt to stab him in the back. They try to run or talk their way out of it; it seems Johnny went all out, trying to take out the Red Hood, all because of a bit of questionable information.

If he was so desperate to hire a kill squad rather than answer some well-deserved questions…

Maybe it’s not me that spooked him.

He thinks back to the shot that killed Johnny, remembers the angle it hit the head, and where the exit wound was. The opposite direction from where the thugs entered—from the window.

“There was another shooter,” he realizes.

A quick visit to the building opposite confirms his suspicion: the scrape where someone set up a tripod, bullet casing rolled to one side.

It wasn’t Johnny afraid to talk to the Red Hood—someone else feared he would.

Question is, were they worried he’d talk or worried he’d talk to me?

⁂⁂⁂ 

Next Chapter

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

<3 Violet

[khorren]

The Fae Legacy - Guild Wars (1)

The Fae legacy starts in the era of the Flameseeker Prophecies. It’s around 1045AE that the Fae children start springing up in the world and goes to 1056AE when the final one turns up. There’s a single father involved in all of the Fae children. It wasn’t always this way, it became a bit of a joke around Factions release, and by Nightfall it was just a case of “sure, let’s roll with this”. So daddy Fae is a notorious womanizer, not such a great father figure, and a very successful merchant via the seas.

This is Jayne Fae. Originally created for the male-female-switcheroo April Fools. I couldn’t deal with all my girls being dudes, so I rolled a dude so I could carry on being a girl character while AFKing on the Lion’s Arch boat. Anyway. He ended up being labeled as Dad Fae.

Zoe (left) is the first one born. She’s a Warrior and the leader of the bunch. It wasn’t until after the events of Factions that 3 of the Fae sisters had been killed, Zoe took this loss personally and stepped down as leader of the group. She went to Grenth looking for a way to end it, but he gave her a new lease of life better understanding death and the dead and she came back as a Ritualist. She went by the name of Alysia at this point. She later returned to Grenth after the last sister had passed on and entered the Mists. She came back again this time during the events of GW2: Heart of Thorns as a Revenant (Kensi Fae).

Next up we have the remaining 4 Ascalonians.

���Marla, a ranger. Co-lead the group with Lexine after Zoe left. She had a son after the events of Eye of the Norn who carried on the family line. Not content with how the world was devolping, Marla learned of the Pale Sprout that was growing under Ventari’s care. She went deep into the Maguuma, leaving her son with family, and sought out the mysterious Druid spirits of the jungle. Most thought they had long gone, but Marla bonded with them and eventually joined them as a Druid. She helped care for the sprout as it grew into the Pale Tree and she grew fond of one of its children. She helped nuture and raise the Sylvari that would grow up to be Amarilis.

⭐Cea, a mesmer. After the events of Prophecies the main group returned to Lion’s Arch but she and her half-sister Kiz pushed back further into Ascalon. Both were killed by a charr patrol before they could reach the city.

⭐Lexine, a warrior. She was in Ascalon while the whole Prophecies and Factions saga played out, and it wasn’t until the group was down a warrior that she joined them full time. Lexine settled down after her adventures, had kids, and her legacy was responsible for Alexis and Madison in GW2.

⭐Ash. Little baby Ashy. She’s the youngest of all the Faes (not just the Ascalon ones) and was found in Lion’s Arch on her father’s boat alone and was taken to her sisters in Ascalon. It was Jayne’s hope to come back to Tyria mainland with Ash and actually settle to be a father. But he never made it back to land, and was never found. Ash had no children of her own, but worked as a monk, assisting Ascalon’s orphans in Kryta til the day she died. She was buried in Ascalon City thanks to the bravery of Ruby crossing dangerous lands belonging to Charr and ghosts. 

The Canthan kids

⭐ Calixae. Ritualist, seer, and not quite all there. She had a vision of her mother dying during childbirth and never really liked having these visions. She died in Imperial Sanctum as the group was taking down Shiro.

⭐Drisana. Elementalist. Twin of Cinder. Their birth lead to complications with their mother’s health which lead to her death as Calixae predicted. The three children were raised by their step-father until they left for Shing Jea. Drisana’s legacy was responsible for Serenity Sun (though Serenity doesn’t know it yet).

⭐Cinder. Assassin. Last seen trying to take down members of the Ministry of Purity and working with Juno to keep Kurzicks safe.

⭐Juno. Different mother to the other Canthan kids. Very Kurzick. Reluctant to work with the Luxons at first but eventually came around. Member of House Durheim and was not happy with the unification of Cantha. She had 3 children, 2 daughters, and a son. She sent the son to mainland Tyria to continue the family legacy, and Allianora was the result of that. Juno and her daughters did what they could to keep the Kurzick houses standing in Echovald. When contact was cut off no one heard a peep from that line of the family for a couple-hundred years.

Swinging back ‘round to mainland Tyria. Daddy Fae made a pitstop at Tarnished Coast. There he met a shaman who was holed up deep in the Maguuma region. She was an ally of the Shining Blade and was tracking White Mantle activity as they investigated bloodstones. Together they had two kids, twins.

⭐Kiz. Elementalist. The pair joined up with the rest of the Faes as they left Kryta for the first time and headed into the jungle. Once they allied with the Shining Blade the pair made themselves known. After the events of Prophecies, Kiz went to Ascalon with Cea. Like Cea, Kiz never made it to Ascalon and was murdered by a Charr patrol.

⭐Ruby. Necromancer. Traveled with the family all the way to the end and when the group began going their own ways she returned to the Maguuma region and aided the Asura for quite some time before becoming a true disciple of Grenth. Over the years she brought many souls to the Wardens and to Grenth she was given a gift of her choosing. She chose to always be able to look out for her sisters. She’s not really sure what happened but her youth returned, her abilities became much more potent and she never really aged after that point. She’s still the same Ruby Fae in GW2.

Finally, we come to the Elonians. Again, same father, different mothers.

⭐Allianora. Dervish. Her mother was a Djinn who lost her powers and became human. Alli’ never learned this until much later in her life and she wanted to return this power back to her mother. In doing so she too became a Djinn. She’s still somewhere in Elona though hasn’t been found.

⭐Darien. Paragon. Was Spearmarshal after Kormir’s ascension and kept a close bond with her. After stepping down as Spearmarshal she spent her final years scribing the lives of the Faes she’d come across and sent the information over to Ruby to store.

And that’s the main cast of GW(1) characters. There were a few others along the way, I had three sisters that shared the Amunet surname, all Canthan. Had a ranger with the surname of Xystar who was a distant cousin to the Canthan Faes. And megashoutout to Xunlai Fae going all the way up to Xunlai Fae V I I I who were my wardrobe mules. You girls were the true MVPs.

[bangtan-sarang-dimple-japch-blog]

Transfer Fantasy (Pt 1)

Just a quick guide... you’ll meet the rest of the characters along the way =)

You: Y/N/___

A high school Korean girl transferring to a school in America for a year because of her dad’s work. Part of a group of friends that dance, sing, perform and are quite popular in both Korea and America. Shy, pretty, can speak English pretty well.

Dance group members in Korea-

Hanbyul, Daeho, Cheolmin, Eunkyung, Mijung

Really close to all of them. All very talented. Dance, sing, make MV’s, perform, popular in Korea and America. Dance group name is Shadow. (IDEK at this point, I just made that up..)

“Hi, my name is ___, nice to meet you all. I’m a transfer student from Korea, I’ll be staying here for one year. Sorry about my lacking English and accent, but I hope we get along.”

You head back to your seat once you finish. It’s second period. Apparently, you switch classes for every period and subject here. So you’re going to end up having to introduce yourself around seven times AT LEAST today.

 A pretty girl with red and brown hair smiles at you across the table and introduces herself as Lynne. 

“Hi ___, my name is Lynne. I’m a fan of your dance group!”

“Oh really? Thank you so much!”

“Of course! You guys are awesome. I loved your cover duet with Hanbyul of Dally! Do you want to join me and my friends during lunch? A lot of them really like your group too!”

“Really? That would be awesome! Thank you!”

“No. Way. You’re actually the ____ from Shadow?”

“Yeah... nice to meet you.”

“My name is Kate by the way, and this is Gwyneth, Rachel, Natasha, and Alysia.” 

“Hi!”

Lynne pulled you aside to get some food from the cafeteria. While walking over to the line, she grinned and asked, “You good? I know they can be a handful at times, but they’re really sweet and nice once you get to know them.”

You moved forward and replied, “It’s fine, not like I don’t deal with that when I’m with the group...”

After buying the snacks, the two of you started to head back to the others when you were bumped into by a guy. 

“Ah, geez, sorry, didn’t mean to do that. You good?”

“...yea, it’s fine.”

Lynne sighed. “Typical of you Robert.” Turning to you, she said sarcastically, “I present to you the oh so amazing Robert Choi. Popular athlete of the school, also known as Kate’s crush and the reason why this school’s basketball team does so terribly in games.”

“Hey, that was only one game! And it wasn’t that bad of a screw up!”

“Yeah, letting the other team get 14 easy points when it’s 46:44 isn’t that bad. Might I add that it was also the finals. AGAINST OUR RIVALS! Whatever. This is ___. She’s Korean too, and is a transfer student for one year, so help her out, hm?”

He shrugged and said, “Sure.”

Just then, a group of guys sauntered over. One of them threw an arm over Robert’s shoulder. “Flirting with the new girl already Robert? Don’t terrify her so much, it’s only her first day!”

Your heart skipped a beat. 

He was... really hot. 

Lynne rolled her eyes and exclaimed, “May I also present to you His Highness’s cocky sidekick, Philip Jung. Also Korean, also known as the playboy of the school. Philip, you already know ___ from second period, right?”

He winked and said, “Sure do. Can’t wait to have some fun, eh?”

You just stared at him, incredulous. Yeah, he was hot. But who was he to just start flirting with you? Offended, you remark in Korean, “You’re very sure of yourself, aren’t you? Just stop. It’ll be fun while it lasts, but it won’t last long, and you’ll only end up as a sad mess later on.”

Robert’s eyes widened as you spoke, and Lynne decided that it would be better if the two of you just left first. She pulled your hand, and asked if you were okay.

“Yeah, just that his cocky player image pissed me off. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I get like that too. But Robert’s pretty chill for one of them.”

“Them?”

“Robert and Philip are both part of the most popular boy group in our school. Robert’s the most decent. Philip’s basically the leader. Ethan is Rachel’s boyfriend. Gwyneth likes Joseph, and I kinda like Philip when he’s not acting like an asshole. Like just now... I hated him.”

“Yeah...”

                                                    ....................

Philip’s POV

I stared at ___ as she and Lynne walked away. 

“Yah... she just legit rejected you so hard.”

I pushed Robert. “What makes you think I’m gonna give up?”

Y/N’s POV

School’s finally over. I plug in my earbuds, start playing some ZionT, and start walking to the bus stop. As I’m about to exit the school campus, someone shouts, “___!”

I turn, and find Robert running over to me and waving. 

Smiling, I take out one of my earbuds and ask, “Yeah?”

Switching to Korean, he says, “Where are you heading?”

“To the bus stop. And you don’t have to speak in Korean.”

“I’m more comfortable with Hangul... Anyway, I’m heading there too, wanna go together?”

“Sure.”

We start heading off, and quickly, awkward silence takes over. 

“So why did you come to America?”

“Dad’s work.”

“Ah... is it true that you’re part of the dance group Shadow?”

“Yeah. A lot of people have been asking me that. Are we popular here?” I asked that just as a joke, but he replies, “Yeah, you are.” in all seriousness.

“Wow... that’s really touching. What do you normally do after school?”

“Classes, basketball, hanging out with friends, homework... and dancing.”

“YOU DANCE?”

“Yeah, I was gonna invite you over to our studio if you were free...”

He saw the hesitation on my face and quickly said, “Lynne, Kate, Gwyn, and Rachel are gonna be there too...”

“Sure, I guess. What time?”

“How about 4:30 -ish?”

“Just let me stop by at home first then.”

We head into the studio, and my jaw drops. This place is really nice.

There are stretching bars, multiple practice rooms, super expensive speaker systems, and so much more. I’m still staring when I hear Lynne and Kate call me over to the other side of the room. I sit down next to them, changed into a camo crop top and sweats.

Kate looks at my outfit and exclaims, “Looking good girl~!”

I stare at the with wide eyes and say, “This place is a legit professional studio. How did they afford this?”

Lynne scoots closer and asks, “Oh, you already know that Robert and most of their group dances? That’s good. Yeah, it’s really nice. Our school decided to create a competitive dance club and rented out a few rooms in this facility.”

“Ohhh. In Korea, we were only able to get a dance room, nothing special like this place.”

“Well, I think we should start stretching. It’s gonna start soon.”

Philip’s POV

I’m stretching with Ethan and Joseph when Robert and ___ come in together. Her jaw drops and she looks all over the place. Cute.

I don’t think she noticed us yet...

Robert heads over to us, and I immediately ask, “Why did you come in with her?”

He looks over at me and says, “Oh I just walked her to the bus stop and invited her here to see if she wanted to join in for this year. Was that not a good idea?”

Joseph cuts in and says, “Nah, I’ve seen her group on YouTube. They’re fucking acrobats, so it would probably help if she was here.”

Interesting... I’ve only seen a few of Shadow’s dance practice videos, but I don’t remember any acrobatic moves... 

We’ll see very soon.