#just because I think he's the one hurting Jimmy “I whittled him down to nothing” - Scott Double Life

[tubbytarchia]

Seeing some more lean towards toxic FH, but as in, Jimmy being the toxic one for not leaning into the ship, etc, and that's a little bit upsetting but 99% funny. They hate to see my son act of his own accord and winning!!

[thebadchoicemachine]

For the writing prompt, what about ghost!Robin and Catboy!Corpse seeing present day Cornelius/Dream? Like Dream being confused and happy about his Partner and Son’s Ghosts being there and everyone else being v confused about the two random people calling him Cornelius and knowing him from a hundred years ago.

anon im so sorry. This has been sitting in my inbox for months now but I just cannot finish this story. it a really cool idea though. Here’s my incomplete first draft. I just copy and paste it from my wip to here so this is it, notes and cuts and typos and all. 

The idea is Karl shows up when they’re in the prison and they see the false timeline where Cornelius was a killer and are forced to accept he sucks

_________________

- The execution cell was supposed to be merciful, a more civilized solution than being beat to death, but everything about it made Robin gag. He hoped he would never ever end up in it. 

tw: implied indirect suicide, major death but they’re ghosts(?) 

--•-•-*-•-•-- 

Colors and colors and colors wouldn’t stop melting and mixing and swirling. They surrounded him. They were in him. They were him. He breathed them in without breathing, he bled them without blood, he was falling and flying and stood completely still. 

And then it was dark. No, then it was light. White and clean like the marble of a palace Robin knew he would never get to see. 

Where... where was he? He’d won hadn’t he? They’d... killed... him. They’d killed everyone. 

He wanted to die. He had to. There was boiling in his blood he couldn’t ease, he had to die, he needed them to hate him. To end him. The Jester’s Curse. Cursed to be wronged, to be hurt, to be freed. 

He’d always had it, as far as he was concerned. He didn’t know why he resisted for so long. Perhaps, despite everything, he’d enjoyed living at one point. Despite what he was, despite his curse, despite bring a jester, he wanted to live! At some point he couldn’t care less about tricking others into condemning him to the grave. 

After Cornelius, after Cat, he didn’t even fight it nor could he fight for it. He didn’t even care. Even as the ground swallowed him up in flames of the execution he held no harmony. No peace. There was no joy in his victory, there was no meaning to his death. Even in fulfilling it, he’d denied his curse. 

That’s why he was still here, wasn’t it? Jesters want to die, they want to transform, to be released into vengeful spirits of lies and trickery. He was... dead. He was also... still here... why? He knew why. He didn’t think he liked the answer. 

Robin couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand to bother mourning anymore. Not himself, not his long-dead family, not his new fath- he choked. He didn’t know know on what, he had no air, no lungs. He just couldn’t finish the thought. 

“We never did make it official, did we?” A solemn, comforting, voice rang out.

Robin spun around. No. What? No, it’s not. It is. He is. Right there. Standing- no, not standing. Neither of them can stand. Not floating either just… there… was Cat. 

Robin felt his eyes fill up with tears, he didn’t know how, he didn’t care. He flew into his friend’s arms. 

“Woah! Ah, be careful, child.”

“H-how,” Robin sobbed into his chest. “How are you…”

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

“I th-thought that was because of my c-curse.”

Cat sighed, gently ruffling the child’s hair.  

“No,” he spoke, finally. “I don’t think that’s why any of us are here.”

“Then-”

“No, I don’t think it’s what happens to everyone either. I’ve been alone as far as I can tell. I haven’t found anyone else. Not even…” he sighed again. 

Robin understood. Cornelius was gone. 

“I’m so sorry, Robin.” Cat tightened his grip. “I’m so sorry for what we put you through. We promised we would give you a better life, a safer one, but we left you in the worst way possible. You were executed because... because of me.”

“Oh,” Robin stared down at his feet. “You... were there for that?”

“No. I wasn’t- I can’t- I don’t know how to explain it, I only know what happened. Exactly what happened. It was like living a story being told to you, as though a nar- narrating...

Narration. Something clicked in both of their minds. Wasn’t there some strange… the spirals… the colors… he didn’t have a name, not one he ever told them. He had simply showed up one day, right before it all began. He wasn’t there, not properly anyway,. but he was there. He was there in the backs of everyone’s minds. He was there as he explained away every awful thing like it was a footnote in a novel. He was there as he made and told truth. He was the Narrator. 

He had such an air of control, such an air of change. 

Thoughts (memories?) of a past that never happened flashed through Robin’s mind. Cat was out investigating, Robin was carefully looking over his medical supplies. He couldn’t risk- NO. No. He swept the distraction from his mind. He wouldn’t get carried away, not this time.

The narrator. The Narrator. He had a book. A swirling and swishing mash of colors cover on his book he scribed all their horrors into. That’s where they were. 

“Cat, we need to go. He made a mistake. This… was his first time. We are not supposed to be here. We were never meant to leave. We should try to get out.”

Cat only nodded. Robin didn’t know why he understood or how deeply, but he did. This was a mistake.

The two began wandering the halls. It was strange, being able to think and move again as though his body was still his. To have his mind and thoughts working in a stream of consciousness instead of a thick muddy bog of echos. If he didn’t know any better he’d describe it as feeling more… alive.

He even reached out to guide Cat out of habit. How amazing was it that he had habits again? Cat allowed him to because he knew the comfort it gave him to have something so familiar. Although, of course, not really needing him to. They were both still dead, spirits, memories. Living- not living like this, detached, was like existing with a million tiny radars reaching out all around you. It wasn’t a matter of seeing or feeling, simply knowing. When you were so disconnected from life and itself you were able to get a much clearer and instant idea of the world, he supposed.

They walked and wandered in silence for a while. At least, a while from their perspective. Even with no real idea what or where they were Robin could tell time was… off… here. 

Eventually, they found their way out. There was no exit or pathway they walked through nor was it a sudden jump. They had just… made it out. They were standing beneath the shelter of some trees. It was raining. They were surrounded by unfamiliar structures and landscapes. Of course they were, but this wasn’t just some distant biome or kingdom it was…

“Robin? Are you alright?” 

“I- yes. I’m fine, Cat. This is- I mean, that place is just… wow.”

“It’s... different, yes. This rain is- hmm, it’s weird. I can’t feel it but I know it’s there. It’s making everything fuzzy.”

Robin stuck his hand out. The raindrops sizzled against his skin. He was so focused on the odd sensation he jumped when Cat yanked his arm back.

“What was that? Are you alright?”

“The rain, it stings.”

“Badly? Are you hurt?”

“Not really. It feels like I’m a bar of soap being whittled down by the drops but I’m fine. It only feels strange.”

“Oh, good,” Cat breathed a sigh of relief. “In that case, let’s keep moving.” 

Robin agreed. They didn’t have anywhere to go but neither felt like standing under the tree for all eternity. Besides, they were in a whole new world, maybe even a whole new dimension, and Robin was really curious to see what was with those strange building 

It all seemed impossible. 

His breath was taken away at every turn as they walked. Structures like nothing he’d ever seen before. There were so many colors, so many shapes, so many mechanics, so many things, and all so high and huge. It was amazing. 

“Slow down a little, this rain is really disorienting.”

“Sorry! Sorry, this place is just… wow.”

“So you’ve said,” Cat laughed. “What exactly is so amazing about it? Describe it to me.”

“Well, there’s so much of it. It’s like a town but nothing like a town at all. More like a whole kingdom. A very strange kingdom.  There’s no uniform to it, every build is unique. There was a castle we passed, it was huge and had so many colors! There were just rainbows and rainbows pouring out of every-”

“Mmm, interesting.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“This castle though, it felt like regret, didn’t it?”

“Y-yeah? Kinda,” Robbin had been trying to avoid thinking about that, how he could feel every building. “Uh, over to your side there is a pit, a giant crater bigger than our entire town! It’s tragic. It’s refreshing a little. It’s kind of…”

“Familiar. I- I don’t want to be near that, Robin. Let’s keep moving.”

Robin didn’t agree. He wanted to get closer, to feel what was so sad, so new, so ended, what about whatever tragedy there was familiar. He wanted to understand what he knew would hurt him, and why. 

*****

“No! He would never!” Cat’s voice was rising. It was honestly scary, Robin had never seen him so wrathful. “He is the kindest person you will ever know! He is a protector! He’s- he is-”

“Do you really believe that?” The Narrator asked, calm and unfazed, sorrow creeping into his question. Robin couldn’t shake it from his mind. His thoughts were ruffles like pages flipping backward in a book. Like a pencil rubbing revealing words erased and undone but that had still been written. He was sent back to his flashing memories, his lies, unable to stop them.  

Cat was out investigating, Robin was carefully looking over his medical supplies. He couldn’t risk choosing wrong tonight. He’d been right to focus on himself. No, he’d been lucky. He’d panicked. Cat was out to the town now. Robin was out now. The killers knew they could stop them, they would be targets. The killers…

Part of him wanted to ignore it, to go back to thinking it couldn’t be one of them. That no one would do something like that, that is must be some outside force but Jimmy… they’d gotten him right. Robin winced at the memory of Helga, at how it had almost been him, but they’d gotten Jimmy right. He knew they had, the Narrator said so. 

The next morning, no one had died. Robin hadn’t needed to heal anyone. Cat reported Jack hadn’t left his home. It seemed like, well, it must be Jack. It just had to be, didn’t it? Robin frowned. He liked Jack enough, he didn’t want to kill anyone. He didn’t want to be wrong again but what choice did he have?

Jack was fighting. He was shouting, angry, scared. He was in the exact same place Robin had been a few nights ago. The familiarity burned inside his chest. He couldn’t stand any more of this, it needed to end tonight. 

“IT’S CORNELIUS!  IT’S HIM! IT HAS TO BE! Look at me. Look at me! You know me, I’m simple, I farm potatoes. If Helga was still here she’d remind yall I ain’t good for much else. You really think I could do this?”

Robin couldn’t comprehend what he was hearing. He wanted to believe it. He wanted to spare everyone he could but… Cornelius? Could he really condemn him any more than he could Jack? Could he any less? 

“What makes you think it’s me and not one of them? I know you’re a killer, Jack. You guessed Cat would be on your trail tonight and didn’t kill. Why else wouldn’t someone be dead today?” Cornelius’s voice was as calm and upbeat as ever, if not a bit exasperated. 

“He’s smart! He’s too smart. Look at his freaky, calculatin’ eyes, if you can ever see them. Look at him! Hiding behind that mask, wearing that ridiculous green hood, what’s that smile for, huh? None of us should have trusted him the day he set foot in this town, make up for it now. C’mon! Cat, I know you’re better than murderin’ folks for mayhem. Bob, you’re as simple as me! Robin,” Robin froze up as he was addressed directly “You’re a child, a sweet one. I’m sorry you have to live through this. I’m sorry you’ve been where I am now but I only hope that gives you the empathy you need to make the right choice. It’s him. I swear it’s not me!”

Everything felt stifled. He muffled the distraught protests of Cat in favor of listening to his own. No. No, it couldn’t be.  Everyone in town used to be friendly but Cornelius was a friend. He and Cat had been there for Robin. They’d taken him in, cared for him, treated him as their own son. Well, Cat had. 

Robin slowly blinked. What had Cornelius done for him? Thinking this way made him sick but he needed to be rational here. Did he really believe Cornelius was innocent, truly? He trusted Cat. Cat had proof he was safe, even if he wasn’t an investigator he had years and years of kindness to back him up. What did Cornelius have, really? He was kind, decent enough, but so was Jack. So were Jimmy and Helga. That wasn’t something he could base his vote on. 

So what did make him so sure it wasn’t Cornelius? The only… he realized the only thing holding him up was Cat. Cat loved him. Robin wanted that to be enough. He wanted desperately to go back home, to lay in Cat’s lap while Cornelius told them stories. He wanted to retreat into his memories but when he tried they felt corrupted, tainted, hollow. 

Every time he tried to imagine the kind way Cornelius had ruffled his hair, how he’d giggle and blush after a kiss from Cat, how he’d take off his mask at home and join Robin sitting on the porch, every time he tried to lose himself in the memory of that soft, humored, smile he was frozen inside by the eyes. Even when they were sad or kind his eyes were always vibrant, sharp… calculating. 

Robin took a shaky breath. He didn’t like this, he didn’t want to do this, any of it. He was filled with a numb resolve as he cast his vote. He had no proof either was innocent but he had no reason to believe Jack was capable of this… he knew Cornelius was. 

“The voting has finished,” The Narrator began. “Jack... Jack is the most suspected but this means nothing. Cornelius, by 3/5ths of the vote you have been found guilty. Please, step into the chamber.”

-

“NO!” A scream cut through the faux memory, just barely. Just enough for Robin to hear it. Who had yelled? Cat? Cor- Dream? Himself? He didn’t know, he was still lost.

-

Lost… Robin was so lost. 3/5ths. Cornelius obviously voted for Jack and vice versa, Bob was on Jack’s side, Cat must have voted for Jack even if only to save his love. Robin had been the deciding vote. What had he done? Was he right? Cornelius gave him no answer as he calmly stepped into the cell. The Narrator blabbed on, explaining the votes and who and what but for the first time since the colorful stranger arrived Robin couldn't listen to a word he said, instead focusing on Cat. 

Cat had run to the jail, his hands reaching desperately through the bars. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t want this,” he kept repeating. His voice was calm and low but Robin could tell that was desperate. He was putting on an act, trying to reassure Cornelius as though it would all solve itself if he just kept together. Cornelius still didn’t speak. He took Cat’s hand and rested it on his face, under his mask.

Then the grate snaped close and Cat was forced to pull his hand back. He barely moved though, pressing his hands against the wire through the bars. Cornelius pressed his hand up from the other side. Maybe Cat could feel it, maybe he couldn’t, Robin didn’t know which he preferred. 

Part of Robin wanted to put him to back away, to warn him the bars and fence was there for a reason, but the rest of him knew he couldn’t. The least- the only thing he could do was allow Cat this brief moment of closure, if you could even call it that. 

Cornelius still kept silent, for just the briefest of moments Robin hated him. How dare he? How dare he sit there, keeping Cat suffering in silence? How dare he keep Robin in this horrid suspense? How dare he not admit his crimes or keep pleading his innocence? How dare he… how dare… then Robin heard Cat whimper and the anger was gone. 

“We’re gonna get you out of here, okay? We-”

“Well, that’s not gonna happen,” The Narrator laughed, almost callously. If he wasn’t so detached from the world, so different from them he felt innocent even in cruelty, Robin might’ve felt like spitting on him. He couldn’t though, he was different. He was detached. He was like a child who didn’t know any better than to hurt others’ feelings. Like a child except instead of not knowing any better he knew too much. 

Maybe that’s why Robin didn’t lash out or protest as the narrator pulled the lever. Maybe that’s why he didn’t scream as the pistons shifted. Maybe that’s why he only closed his eyes and ignored the shouts of triumph. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be angry at Jack and Bob for celebrating, at the moment he was only glad their cries drowned out the sizzle.