#the last time they saw him (when jason was alive) he was a skittish and quiet kid. bookish. him turning out all goth-rock and punkish and

[starry-bi-sky]

what piercings does Danny have in your CFAU?

Danny’s got double lobe piercings on both ears, and then helixes, and an orbital on one side! Then he’s got an eyebrow piercing on the right side of his face. I don’t have any particular reason for why he’s got piercings as an adult, I just thought it’d be a fun way to indicate a physical change from when he was 14 and last saw the Waynes, to the next time they see him. Although with this version of Danny (rather than my original, unserious beta version of CFAU), it probably would follow that he'd potentially get piercings when he was older. (So not a total shock)

[meat-husband]

Heyo! This is my first ask! I'm just really curious how different type of writers interpret our favorite slashers! My ask! How would Michael Myers (other slashers) be with a cute and innocent S/O IF IT'S OKAY can we get a REAL SERIOUS and scary Verizon of our babies!! Again no rush, do what you loveeeeee

Sometimes you just need a big murder man to sling you over their shoulder and drag you into the woods :/

Brahms

Absolutely going to abuse your goodwill for his own needs. You’re kind, helpful and almost naive, and all of these things will make it that much easier for him to worm his way into your affections, through whatever means necessary. He is not concerned with you actually loving him and staying to care for him out of that love - he’s perfectly happy to play pretend, keeping you in line with a combination of threats and petulant whining.

He wants affection. He’ll crawl into your bed at night, quietly insisting that you pet his hair and hold him until he falls asleep. Over time you start to do these things without him asking, knowing just from the way he approaches you that he’s come looking for your gentle touch. 

He knows how easy it is for you to befriend someone, which is why he limits your time away from home as much as he can. Whatever needs to be done can be accomplished with phone calls and home deliveries, where he can pull the cord if he thinks you’re enjoying yourself too much. Any unfortunate visitors that so much as say hello in too friendly of a tone run the risk of not making it off the property.

Because he’s very much aware that you’re staying there against your will, attempts at escape are almost expected. He’s still going to be furious, but he will have plans ready ahead of time to make sure that you don’t make it too far.

The most effective thing he can use against you is any hope you might have of helping him. He’ll push you to the end of your rope, when you’re ready to give up and make a break for it, then lure you back in with a not so heartfelt plea for you to stay. 

Michael

He keeps an eye on you for a long time before making a move. Maybe he’s just tired of waiting or maybe you’re getting too close to someone else, but he goes pretty quickly from ‘peeking through your windows’ to ‘in your house, waiting at the end of your bed for you to wake up and scream’.

But just because he has some sort of twisted interest in you doesn’t mean you can get out of it unscathed. He treats you like any other hunt at first, which means you have a good few hours of being chased down before you realize that his intentions aren’t to murder you.

You can scream and kick all you like, but once he’s decided that he owns you, that’s pretty much the end of it. He expects you to fall in line quickly though, and he’ll be as mean as he needs to for you to realize that you’re not getting away. 

Even once he’s got you firmly under his control, he doesn’t stop reminding you of it. He watches you from a distance when you leave the house, a looming reminder that one small misstep will have everyone around you killed in retaliation.

He can show some affection, though it’s usually more than a little brutal. Things taken from the homes, or bodies, of his victims, are common gifts presented to you after a kill. 

Bubba

You start out as a sort of pet, something he’s allowed to keep only because no one thinks he’ll manage to keep you alive for more than a few weeks. He’s a sucker for the timid way you look at him, interpreting your fear as a cute, but shy, demeanor. 

He isn’t allowed to care for you until the rest of his chores are completed, but sometimes when the house is empty, he’ll sneak into your room. It’s more of a treat for him to feed and dress you than a task. 

You aren’t allowed out of your room, but that’s another rule that he’ll break if given the opportunity. He’ll sneak you downstairs to eat in the kitchen or outside to sit in the sun, always happy to see how grateful you are to be allowed these small freedoms. He loves having you rely on him to provide the things that make you happy. 

If you use these excursions as an escape route, though, they’ll end immediately. He’s more worried than anything when he discovers that you’re gone, but once you’re back where you belong, he’ll be angry. Tighter restraints and a closer watch kept on you during the day will prevent you from trying it again. 

He likes to spoil you, giving you extra food when no ones around to notice, and dressing you up in the pretty clothes he finds on victims. A lot of time is spent being dressed up, hair brushed out and face smudged with sloppy makeup, and you always get a little treat for behaving well. 

Thomas

Thomas craves kindness from others, but he isn’t used to actually receiving it, which will instantly upgrade you from dinner to potential family member. He doesn’t trust it at first, but so long as you continue to provide soft, kind words and shaky smiles, he’ll keep you separated from the less fortunate catches as long he can.

When it comes down to it, he’ll make an effort to keep you off the dinner table, and to your surprise the family is very happy about his sudden interest in you. You find yourself being made to choose between being killed or becoming Tommy’s responsibility, and it’s not as easy a choice as it seems.

He doesn’t like it when you’re obviously frightened, trembling and crying even after the saw has cut off, and he’ll do his best to comfort you. He treats you almost like a skittish animal at first, approaching you slowly and sliding a dirty hand through your hair. He never seems to catch on to the fact that he is the thing that frightens you, not the noise.

He spends most of his time downstairs, so that’s where you end up as well. Occasionally you stay upstairs, helping with other housework, but most often you get carried downstairs right after meals, set up on a little makeshift bed where he can keep an eye on you. He sits with you between his chores, pulling you up against his side with one big arm and keeping you in place against him.

You might not warm up to the cooking right away, but he isn’t going to let you skip meals. If you don’t eat on your own, he’ll insist, forcing small bites of meat into your mouth until you successfully keep them down. He brings you food as often as he can, usually letting you eat whatever you want from his plate before he eats himself and he’s careful to make sure that you actually swallow all the food you take.

Jason

He has a big protective instinct anyways and with someone who plays up to the urge to care for and protect them, he’ll be unstoppable. But what might start out as a desire to keep you safe will quickly become an overwhelming need to just keep you. He sees how soft you are, how gentle, and he wants it all for himself.

He isn’t mean on purpose, but he isn’t used to caring for anyone else, let alone a normal human who is more delicate than he is. His hands are rough when they touch you and leave bruises even when he tries to be gentle. You flinch away from him sometimes and even though he understands why, he can’t help but be angry when it happens.

Right from the beginning, it’s established that you have to ask for what you want. He does his best to allow you as much freedom as he can, letting you out onto the porch to sit in the sun or following behind as you walk a short path around the cabin. But he can’t always let you do as you please, often denying you access to anything out of a certain distance from the cabin, and never when he isn’t with you.

Any attempt to leave is met with a frightening amount of rage. He doesn’t hurt you, but you can’t help but be afraid that he might when you get caught sliding open an unlocked window. He’ll lock the bedroom door if he has to and you don’t get another chance to sneak out of a window after he nails them all shut.

He’s very affectionate, pulling you into his lap and just sitting with you, on the couch or outside in the grass. He’s content to do all the work, petting your hair and pressing the mask against your cheek in a half kiss, but he’ll be overjoyed if you so much as settle against his chest or sigh while he strokes your hair.

Vincent

Someone who’s too polite/nervous/naive to tell him he’s being creepy? Perfect match. He’s a romantic, or what he thinks is romantic, which really just comes across as passive aggressive and unsettling. Any sort of rejection will make him cold and angry, so you’ve got to play along if you want to keep him happy.

He sort of just skips over the whole beginning portion of the relationship and jumps straight to ‘we’re a couple and you’re mine’, even though it’s only been a week. He likes to stay close to you as much as he can, keeping you in the room while he works and curling up in the same bed when he sleeps.

Very jealous of anything that manages to catch your attention for any amount of time. You rely on him to bring you things, mainly books, to keep yourself entertained in the house, but he’ll refuse to if he’d rather you spent the time with him. He’ll whittle down your options until you have to pay attention to him - ideally, you’ll sit around all day waiting for him to show up and keep you company.

He might give up eventually if you were loud and angry, fighting him every step of the way, but your quiet, resigned attitude keeps him hoping that you’re not as disinterested as it sometimes seems. He does his best to keep you happy, to show you how well he can care for you, and he knows that one day his efforts will be rewarded. 

He takes any attempt to leave very personally. It’s one of the only times you’ll see him truly angry, a firm grip on your arm as he drags you back into the house. The anger only lasts as long as it takes for him to wear himself out, breaking things in the basement and throwing supplies around the room, but afterwards he’s very depressed. He’ll crawl over to you, forcing his head into your lap and begging you to tell him what he’s done wrong.

[scaryscarecrows]

What’s Left of God’s Light (May Not be Enough)

AN: I have been playing A Plague Tale: Innocence and very much enjoying it. I said I shouldn’t plunk the squad in there.

I did it anyway. For, um. Expanding my writerly horizons. Or something.

I totally did it for fun.

Also on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22956727

* * *

The air is thick with the stench of bodies, smoke, and terrified horses. Men are screaming. The ground, already marshy, is growing wetter with spilled blood. The creaking of the towers and the sounds of the catapults are so, so loud and to make matters worse, it’s starting to rain.

They’ve been here for three days. Three hellish days of death and pain and fear. Antoine thinks they’re losing. They started out organized but both sides have since devolved into the sort of savagery he hopes never to see again. At this point, all he wants is to make it out alive.

Night is falling, but with the sky already dark it almost doesn’t matter. He’s just pulling back to try and gather new bolts when there’s a new creak, a big creak, almost directly above him.

One of the towers is...very wet. Glistening, rain or no rain. And it smells of oil--oil--

“Move!” he shouts, unsure if there’s anyone that can hear him anyway. “Get out, get away from the--”

FWOOSH!

He scrambles backwards, trips on a body and ends up on his back in the mud.

God, please--

“We got ‘em on the run, boys!” Fucking English scum. “Keep after ‘em--what the hell?”

The ground’s shaking. He’d thought it was the tower, or even just the sheer number of people. But then the earth...it. It bubbles up, a few feet away from the tower. And then it just sort of...pops, like a boil, and black gunk spews out.

No. No, not gunk. Rats, it’s thousands of goddamn rats--THE BITE--

There’s a soldier, not twenty feet from him. He’s shadowed, making it impossible to tell which side he’s on. The swarm of rats stops, just for a second, and then, as one, they see him. And they rush him.

Antoine’s never seen anything like that. But he thinks maybe they’re scared. Bugs run at people, sometimes, and so do common mice. Maybe they’re scared.

“No, no-no, no--AUGH!”

One minute, the man is standing in the mud. The next, they’re all over him they’re all over him. And then...then he’s...he’s not there, anymore. When the swarm moves on, Antoine can just make out white bones before they sink into the muck.

There’s more rumbling, and the squeaking reaches a new volume that nearly drowns out the screams of men and horses alike. In the distance, he can see more earth-boils spewing rats. God, where is he supposed to--what can he--

“The light!” That sounds like Jason. Where is he…? “Get in the light, come on! Move!”

He scrambles to his feet and stumbles as close to the burning tower as he dares. In the distance, he can just make out a horse and cart stopped by a small torch, but that torch won’t last in this rain.

“Here!” he shouts. Come on, come on, there has to be something--there! A heap of straw, if it’s not too damp. “I’ll try to light that, be ready to move!”

“Okay!” Mark’s voice. Why is he out here? Never mind…

He’s always been a little skittish, shooting fire at anything. There’s no time to aim, hardly, and one mistake…

But this has gone beyond battle and straight to the end of all things.

By the grace of God, the haystack lights up and the cart is moving, careening over bodies and rats alike to get to it. It stops, just for a few seconds, before going again, this time towards Antoine.

There’s three people, all told. Frank, who’s driving, Mark, who’s clutching a barely-burning lantern, and Jimmy, who looks green. The horse is terrified, eyes rolling in panic, but he’s still enough, blowing hard but not looking completely likely to bolt. 

“Easy, old man, easy,” he murmurs, more out of habit than anything. His voice shakes in his own ears and he doubts the horse is soothed in the least. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know.” Frank sounds just as bad. “I don’t know, they came out of nowhere--”

“I saw--”

“Why are they acting like this--”

“God in Heaven--”

“Stay in the light!” Where is he? “Stay in the light, they’re afraid of it!”

The rats rush something. Antoine doesn’t know what, he can’t see and he doesn’t want to and--

There’s a terrific THUD! followed by angry squeaking and Trent’s thunderous voice going, “Get back, you sorry little bastards!”

Trent’s easier to spot, especially when he rears back and brings his flail down on a section of rats just outside the reach of his flickering torch.

“Here!” he shouts. “Make a run for it before the fire goes!”

“What do we do?” Jimmy’s whispering. He’s in Mark’s personal space, but Mark either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. “This isn’t...I’ve never seen rats act like this, what’s happening?”

Trent narrowly avoids skidding into the cart, Riley slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Riley’s not hurt, but he is the one holding the torch.

“Did you see anyone else?”

“No. No, we heard Jason, just after the ground opened up, but we didn’t see him.”

The screaming has scaled way back. No more horses, fewer men. The storm’s picked up, though, and Antoine is suddenly struck with the fear that the burning tower...might not stay burning.

It’s dark. It’s so damn dark, except for the spots of torchlight dotted throughout the field. And the ground’s still moving, the rats swarming over the bodies. Three days’ worth of corpses, two armies of men, and they’re going through it like pigs go through corn.

He doesn’t want to die here.

He steps back, closer to the horse and the fire, and strains to see anything, anything at all besides the writhing ground.

“There!” What? What now? “I think that’s--Jason! Is that you?”

Oh. There’s a bit of light. Not a lot of light, but a bit. Enough, for the moment.

“Yeah!” The figure jabs the light at the encroaching shadow and it recoils, squeaking. “How many made it?”

“Six!”

“I’ve got another one!” But for how long? “Is there.” He stops, suddenly, and maybe the world is going to end, because Antoine’s seen this idiot stare down a sword to his throat and laugh. Frank had been furious. “Is there any way you can make a path for us?”

They can’t make it to them with a torch, not in this rain. But...there’s piles of plant matter, and a handful of stick bundles they’ve all been using for tools and torches and weapons.

“Are either of you injured?”

“No!”

Good. Okay.

“I’m going to light you a path!” he calls over. “Be ready to run!”

The first stack of plants goes up just as the other light goes out and they all cringe, bracing for the screams. But they don’t come, and a second later, there’s two figures in the firelight. Maybe they can pull this off. It’s only maybe...four, five more lights to get to them. They can do this.

Eventually, they’re close enough that Antoine can see who Jason’s got with him. It’s Martin, a kid-literally, he’s maybe fifteen-who got caught up in all the lies about glory and what-have-you. Antoine’s relieved to see him alive.

“All right,” Jason’s saying, half-shouting to be heard over the downpour, “you go first, and I’ll be right behind you. You ready?”

“Yes.”

“Go.”

They sprint for it, ground shrieking as they dash through, and Trent thrusts an arm out to half-lift Martin into the safety of the light. Jason skids in after him, gasping for breath and nearly bowling Antoine over before he can stop.

There’s no more screams, now. Just skittering and squeaking and...feeding noises.

“What now?”

Frank jerks his head towards the cart.

“You may as well get out of the mud,” he says. “Away from the...from the edge.”

It’s the best they’ve got. They clamber in and Frank tugs Martin against his side with a soft, “Just don’t look anymore. You don’t need to see this.”

“They’re everywhere--”

“Shh. Don’t. Just don’t.”

They sit quietly, just breathing and shaking and stealing glances at the carnage in the dark. The horse stomps the mud and Antoine leans over to give it what he hopes comes off as a reassuring pat. Horses are either paranoid idiots or obscenely understanding, and there is no in-between.

Jimmy’s the one that finally speaks, voice thick and shaky.

“Think there’s anyone else?”

Jason shrugs.

“I don’t know. I didn’t--I didn’t see anyone, but maybe...maybe...I don’t know.”

“We’re gonna die,” Martin whispers frantically. “We’re gonna die, we’re gonna die--”

“Shh.” Frank rubs his shoulders. “We’re gonna be fine, we just have to…”

“Is anyone hurt?” Antoine’s never been gladder to hear Mark’s ‘give me no horseshit or on my mother’s grave, I’ll beat you with your own severed limb’ tone. So there’s a shake to it. That’s understandable.

There’s a chorus of ‘nos’ and a head-shake from Riley. It’s something.

“You’re all sure? Nobody was bitten?”

More ‘nos’. Riley hops out to check the horse, which doesn’t terribly appreciate the poking, judging by the suddenly flat ears.

He gives them a thumbs up, though, before hefting himself back into the cart. Good. Good. Antoine’s not sure if animals can be...Bitten...but he’d rather not contend with a crazy horse or anything. 

“What do we do?”

“I don’t know.”

“We pray,” Trent says tiredly. “That’s the best idea I’ve got.”

Nobody else has a better solution, and they all join hands. On an afterthought, Antoine leans over to put his hand on the horse. It deserves to be included. Martin apparently agrees.

“You may as well lead us, then,” Jason tells Trent. “This is your idea.”

In better circumstances, that might have been met with a, what, you’d rather me struck down than you? followed by a friendly back-and-forth. But tonight, Trent just nods, takes a deep breath, and rumbles, “Our Father in Heaven…”

Now they just have to hope the tower continues to burn until...theoretically dawn, but...maybe there won’t be a dawn. Maybe the world’s over.

God, he doesn’t want to die out here.

THE END

[violetsmoak]

Appetence [7/?]

AO3 Link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/20251420/chapters/47997634

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: Red Robin is investigating the disappearance of a friend and stumbles into a spot of supernatural trouble. He doesn’t expect to be saved by Jason Todd, miraculously alive five years after his death and now with the inexplicable ability to commune with the dead. Meanwhile, when Jason returned to Gotham he meant to maintain a low profile and not get involved with Bat business. That was before he found out how hot his Replacement is.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: N/A

First Chapter

Author’s Note(s): Apologies for the wait. As you may know I had an adventure with my dropbox wherein I backed up all my files because I had to restore my laptop, and all of the files ended up mixed up in the wrong folders and I've been tracking down files one by one for the past week. I hate technology. I mean, I guess I should be happy the files didn't get deleted, but it's still a pain in the ass to re-organize manually.

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

________________________________________________________________

Tim stares at the business card in his hand long after Jason disappears, thumbing over the false name and phone number with a reverence once reserved for clandestinely captured photographs.

Victor Shelley, Paranormal Investigator.

He wonders if Jason was trying to be funny choosing that name. Given what Tim’s heard about him in the few instances where Dick or Alfred talk about him, and what he saw for himself in the past, he thinks it’s entirely likely.

God, Dick and Alfred.

He knows they’re going to be just as blindsided about this as Bruce when they find out.

If they find out.

Guilt flickers through him now at the promise he made to Jason.

Why the hell would he promise a man he doesn’t really know—a man he’s spent a grand total of an hour and twenty-three minutes in conversation with—that he won’t let his adopted father knows he’s not dead.

That he hasn’t been dead for years.

That he’s in Gotham right now.

Tim wishes he could say it was one hundred percent his shock at Jason being alive, but that would be lying to himself. His mind flashes back to Jason’s face, his slow smirk and the smooth, deep voice, and he swears, letting his head fall against the counter.

Apparently, I promised him because he’s pretty.

It’s a new feeling for Tim. He’s never been easily swayed by looks, but something about Jason is attractive enough to put him off-guard, or at least loosen his lips more than normal.

I thought I was over this…

“I know that face.”

Tim startles and glances up at the bartender—Trista—who he had forgotten was there. He’d forgotten he was sitting in a bar, to be honest.

“Judging by the ass on that man, I can guess what it’s about,” she continues in a wry tone. Then she’s sliding a shot of amber liquid toward him. “Here. To steady your nerves.”

Tim stares at the alcohol in numb confusion.

“That’s on the house, but only because he talked more with you tonight than I’ve seen him do with anyone since he got here,” she goes on. “We’ll both pretend I don’t know you’re underage.”

Tim is too flustered by everything she’s just said to do anything other than accept the shot under her knowing gaze. Then, he beats a hasty retreat from the bar as fast as humanly possible without it looking like he’s running away.

Distracted, he returns to his apartment in the Theater District, trying to parse the events of the night from an objective viewpoint. He’s not entirely sure he didn’t dream it all up, considering whatever that incubus did to him, and so he runs tox-screens on his blood and gives himself a full physical just to make sure.

Other than spikes in several hormone levels—adrenaline, dopamine, and serotonin—his results are normal. Nothing that would really alter his perceptions of reality, the way Scarecrow or Poison Ivy’s concoctions tend to do.

That confirmed, he should be able to leave the matter alone for now. There are more pressing matters to deal with—Dante’s continued disappearance being one of them.

But thoughts of Jason continue to assault Tim’s thoughts.

Something has been bothering him since his conversation with Jason, something he wondered before but couldn’t ask because Jason got skittish and made a run for it

How the hell did Constantine cross paths with Jason anyway?

Aside from his inexplicable presence in Gotham at some point in the past five years without attracting the attention of Batman, what would interest him in a teenaged John Doe with no identity or memory?

Sliding into the chair in front of the computer in the Nest, Tim calls up the autopsy report, even though he doesn’t really need to see it. He memorized it years ago. Still, if he’s going to investigate this, he needs concrete facts, not just his memory.

It’s not difficult to create a timeline of events, between Jason’s official death and now. Or to search a list of John Does at various hospitals in Gotham within the last five to ten years, whose condition upon admittance matches the description of Jason’s injuries at death.

He finds the information he’s looking for within twenty minutes.

As it turns out, things didn’t happen quite as neatly or quickly as Jason’s story suggested. His stay at Gotham General was a lot longer than he let on, and Tim’s stomach twists as he reads the medical reports.

Various physicians left their comments on the patient, a young man of about fifteen or sixteen, severely beaten and malnourished, picked up several miles from the hospital.

The file includes a mugshot of a heavily bandaged youth, head shaved from what records indicate were several procedures to repair brain bleeds, skull, and facial fractures. Bruises and swelling make his features almost unrecognizable, except to someone who has memorized pictures of that face since he was ten years old. Someone who knows the cut of that jaw and the color of those eyes, however bleary and vacant they are as they stare into the camera.

“God, Jason…”

Tim reads over the doctors’ notes that span the course of a year, cataloging how well the boy is healing considering the heavy damage he sustained, and how he would be considered a miracle patient but for the fact whatever happened to him caused significant brain damage.

Clear psychological damage, hearing voices, incapable of speech, easily upset.

On several occasions, the boy became unaccountably terrified, screaming and yelling and trying to claw out his own eyes. Sometimes it even became violent, and in his struggles, he put three doctors, a nurse and two orderlies in the emergency room.

I’m surprised it was only that many people. Considering his training, he could have done a lot more damage.

Eventually, he always had to be drugged and restrained.

Demonic possession, maybe?

It’s not the first thing Tim would think of, but if Constantine’s involved in all this, it would make sense. And coming back from the dead like Jason says he did, it had to have side effects.

Except, there’s no mention of anything superhuman or beyond the realm of possibility regarding Jason’s strength. Surely the doctors would have made note of anything beyond the abilities of a normal, scared teenager—especially in Gotham, where strange behavior was a sad norm.

No mention of anything resembling supernatural or metahuman abilities anywhere here.

Jason was eventually placed permanently in the psych ward and likely would have stayed there for the rest of his days, except the hospital’s budget was cut in his eighth month there. Space issues required moving patients to other hospitals, and—

“Oh, no. No-no-no, tell me they didn’t,” Tim murmurs, heart sinking as he scrolls down the page of the report, knowing exactly what he’s going to find.

They sent him to Arkham.

If Tim was horrified before by the notion of Jason’s resurrection and his condition afterward, it’s nothing to how sick he feels to learn that his predecessor was sent to the cesspool that is Arkham Asylum.

He needs to turn away from his computer for a few seconds and breathe, close his eyes and concentrate on not hearing the lilting, singsong voice and tinny voice in his head.

Hush, little baby, don’t say a word, Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.

Ever since his kidnapping, it’s the one place in Gotham Tim won’t venture—he’s not sure what would happen if he did. Whether he’d suffer a crippling attack of flashbacks, or march into the high security ward and slit the Joker’s throat with one of his birdarangs.

If Bruce realized Tim honestly can’t decide which would be the worse outcome, he knows he’d be benched for the rest of his life. He might not be Robin anymore, but the Family would find a way.

It’s fear of that more than anything else that helps him get a handle on his panic, tethers him back to reality better than anything else. Tim takes another series of deep, grounding breaths, before he feels confident enough to be able to get back to his research into Jason.

At least they didn’t put him anywhere near the Joker, it seems, he notices as he goes through the room assignments and Arkham floorplans. That’s about the only good thing about it, though.

Jason’s ward was for the non-communitive patients, the ones the experts considered untreatable. The ones that get forgotten about in the mayhem of the monthly outbreaks and pandemonium.

Tim’s stomach clenches tight again as he remembers incidents and dates over the years where Batman visited inmates at Arkham to interrogate them on the latest escapes or crimes happening in the city, or just to test the security there. Based on the location of Jason’s cell and Batman’s usual route, there are times when the two were only a floor apart

Tim’s heart aches for them both.

They were so close to each other! If only they’d known—!

And just as suddenly as Jason was transferred to Arkham, all records of him vanish. There’s no information about patient transfers or deaths or releases; instead, like many a nameless patient to be lost to the asylum over the years, he just vanishes.

People don’t just vanish. And in this case, I know he didn’t.

Tim goes on to cross-reference the potential dates of Jason’s disappearance with any visitors to the asylum. It doesn’t take much to identify the only visitor to the asylum for a span of weeks as a certain Chandler Ravenscar—names which another quick search link to aliases used by John Constantine in the past.

That brings Tim to a whole other avenue of research, refocusing him investigation on Constantine himself and his movements over the past years. He tends to keep to the UK, but every now and again travels to various mystical hotspots around the world.

There’s a backlog of security footage to weed through, occultist forums discussing the man and his exploits. Half of what’s written about him online is clearly conspiracy theories, a quarter of it related to some punk rock band called Mucous Membrane and something to do with the Reagan assassination. Those who have actually worked with him either seem too terrified or pissed off to say much about him.

Even harder is finding a video of the man; cameras and other surveillance devices appear to stop working around him. It’s even more of a challenge to catch a glimpse of the teenaged assistant that starts being mentioned several months after Jason’s disappearance from Arkham.

A chance freeze-frame from an airport in Beijing, however, is all Tim needs to confirm it’s Jason.

It’s hours later when Tim sits back, exhausted but now having at least a general timeline of what happened.

One thing is for damn sure—I can’t take this to Bruce.

The story is too painful, too unbelievable. If it doesn’t break him all over, it will have him lashing out at Tim for making up stories about a touchy subject. There’s enough tension between them both right now that he’s likely to question anything suspect Tim brings to him.

Or he would insist it was a trick, that someone had faked all of this. He wouldn’t take Tim’s word for it, would investigate himself, prepare himself for an interrogation when what Jason needs is to have a face to face with his adopted father and mentor.

And Jason’s story still has too many holes in it for Tim to tell it, begging more questions than answers.

Like why Constantine took you from Arkham in the first place. And also…there’s one other thing that doesn’t make sense.

Well, a lot of things don’t make sense, but this stands out.

Tim goes back to the hospital records, scanning for the section where he remembers reading the information.

John Doe’s injuries in the medical files are all consistent with those in Jason’s autopsy, with every scar and broken bone accounted for and described.

Except for an autopsy scar.

That would have been the first thing medical professionals remarked upon when Jason was admitted, but it’s not mentioned anywhere. Which must mean that somehow, Jason no longer has it.

So why did that heal and nothing else did? Could it have something to do with what brought him back?

There’s a sudden dull, clunk in the background and the slide of elevator doors, and Tim glances up to watch Stephanie Brown stride into his base of operations.

“I was on the way out and Babs sent me to check on you,” she tells him. “Apparently someone missed work today without calling in and isn’t answering their phone.”

Tim startles at that, glances at the clock in the corner of his screen and swears when he realizes she’s right. He was supposed to be at Wayne Enterprises an hour ago. When he glances at his cellphone, he sees twelve text messages and three missed calls from Lucius, Dick and Bruce.

“I didn’t even notice,” he groans. He was so caught up in finding out more about Jason that he lost track of time. He quickly taps out a group message reassuring them he’s fine and will be in soon.

“At least being flaky is characteristic of billionaire teenagers,” Steph says as she wanders over.

Tim quickly minimizes his search and swivels around in his seat to face her. “Why are you even awake this early?”

Given the way she spends her nights, Steph made a point of having all of her classes in the afternoon. She’s possibly less of a morning person than Tim is, to the point where even coffee doesn’t make her a little more human.

“Blame my new roommate,” she grumbles, and that earns a surprised look because it’s the first time he’s heard of this. “Right, I didn’t tell you, did I? So, a couple of weeks ago this cat shows up on the fire-escape outside my window. And I didn’t mean to feed it, but it looked so sad and pathetic and I had to, so now it won’t leave me alone. What am I supposed to do? I don’t have time to be a pet owner.”

“Cat’s don’t actually take that much care.”

“That’s what they want you to think. And then one cat becomes two, and two becomes three and the next thing I know, I’m going to be the crazy cat lady on the block,” Steph complains. “And not to cool, sexy, Selina kind of cat lady but the sad, single shut-in.”

“You could never be a shut-in. No four walls can keep your raw joie de vivre inside,” Tim says in a flat tone.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend.” She frowns in confusion. “Are we in an on-again or an off-again right now? I forget.”

Tim remembers Jason’s cocky grin and muscular thighs and his mouth goes dry. “Off. Definitely off.”

Steph’s eyebrows disappear into her hairline. “That was weirdly assertive. Am I sensing a pretty girl behind that sentiment? Do I need to give a shovel talk?” Something occurs to her and she scowls. “It’s not that Lynx chick, is it? Trust me when I say that would be a bad idea.”

“There’s no girl,” Tim mumbles. “Trust me.”

“Okay,” she allows, slow and still somewhat dubious. “But you’d tell me, right? If you were seeing someone? Only so I don’t go crossing lines or causing jealous rage or something.”

“There’s nothing going on, yes I would tell you, can we please move on?” Tim huffs. “Tell me about your cat.”

“He’s not my cat.”

“You fed him, he’s your cat.”

“Stop changing the subject. You’re being evasive—there so is a girl.”

“There’s no girl!” Tim groans, half tempted to tug at his hair. “Who could look at another woman after being with you?”

“I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or as an insinuation I was so horrible that I turned you off women for good,” Steph says, eyes narrowed in suspicion. A beat later, she tilts her head to one side as if something has occurred to her. “Wait. That’s it, isn’t it? It’s a guy. This someone’s a guy. You know you can tell me, right? That would totally be okay—would actually explain a lot, actually—you know, you liking guys—”

“One guy does not equate guys.”

“Oh my god! There is! There’s a guy!” Steph squeals. “Who is it? It’s that friend of yours, that went missing, isn’t it? Dante something? That’s why you’ve been so obsessed with finding him!”

“I’m determined to find him because he’s my friend,” Tim counters, a bit irritated. “The same way I’d be determined to find Ives or Bernard or anyone I cared about. And I’d be doing that right now if someone wasn’t distracting me.”

Two someones, but she doesn’t need to know about Jason’s role in it.

“And I’d believe that if you weren’t looking at me like you wanted to jump out of your skin. There’s something going on here, Ex-Boy Wonder.”

“There’s nothing going on.”

“Lies!”

“For something to be going on, you have to actually spend more than an hour with someone. You have to have known them for more than an hour.”

“Not if you have chemistry,” Steph points out. “Sometimes, it’s just like. Bang.” She grins. “And then you have to bang.”

Tim rolls his eyes.

“Do I need to give you the safe sex talk?” Steph asks with concern that’s only half teasing. “The gay-sex safe sex talk? Because to be honest, I don’t think I’d be able to do it with a straight face.”

“Steph, that was awful. As a former Robin, you should be ashamed.”

“And as a former Robin, you should be better at lying. So, spill. What’s going on?”

Tim studies her, chewing on his tongue; he knows she won’t let it go unless he gives her something. “Okay. Fine.”

“Hah! I knew it!”

“Not that. This is…something else,” he says. “Sort of.”

“Okay?”

“What would you do if…say you found out something really important to a person you care about. But you promised someone else you wouldn’t tell anyone about that something because of…reasons. Personal reasons.”

Steph crosses her arms. “Is this about me?”

“Not everything is about you.”

“Then it’s about Mystery Boy.”

“It’s not about—” Tim gives up, and then sighs, because it’s just easier to give her that one. “Fine. It’s Mystery Boy. He asked me not to say something that’s really important. I figure it’s because he wants to say himself in his own time. Except. Except it’s a huge thing.”

“Starbucks discontinuing pumpkin spice lattes’ huge, or ‘Hush trying to destroy B’ huge?”

“Closer to the second. Not dangerous like that,” he adds quickly when he sees her face. “It’s just…serious stuff that could hurt if it’s not handled the right way. Or if certain parties found out later and thought they were having stuff kept from them.”

“Well, now I’m curious…”

“I’m not telling you.”

“I know that. I’m just saying.” Steph sticks out her tongue at him, but then becomes contemplative. “I guess I’d keep my mouth shut. Or try to, at least. Stuff like that always tends to come out eventually. But if you’re worried it could hurt someone, maybe you can convince Mystery Boy it’s in his best interest to tell someone.”

“Yeah, that didn’t go over too well.”   

“Well, whatever you do, don’t get into your micromanaging, control-freak headspace,” she tells him. “That’s one of the things that torpedoed you and me, and if you want things to work out with this guy, you should respect his wishes.”

“I never said anything about wanting anything to work out with anyone,” Tim protests. “I just met the guy.”

“And somehow he got you to promise not to tell something that’s apparently really important. Which means you already value him somehow, and that only happens to you when you really like someone. Also, you might be able to straight-up bluff Batman or Ra’s al Ghul, but I know how you look when you like someone and don’t want anyone to know it.” There’s a beeping noise and Steph digs out her cellphone. “And with those pearls of wisdom, I have to get going. My mom found the cat and she’s having a conniption.”

She turns to leave, pauses once she enters the elevator and turns back around, jabbing a finger at him.

“Shower, eat, go to work, stop obsessing about stuff you can’t control—and don’t try to control stuff that’s not your business.”

Tim bristles. “Yes, Mother.”

“Oh, you did not just go there,” she growls as the elevator doors close and Tim grins until she’s gone.

He knows that Steph’s right, to a certain extent. This whole Jason thing isn’t his business—he was only ever an outside observer, a legacy after the fact. And even if it was his business, it’s not his predecessor’s sensibilities he should be protecting.

Ill-advised crush aside, he doesn’t have any connection loyalty to Jason Todd. He does owe Bruce—he should be going straight to him about this.

Except…

Except, Tim really doesn’t want to be added to the list of people who betrayed Jason’s trust. Especially given how fragile it is given their short acquaintance.

Tim groans and leans back against his chair, wishing for an easy solution. He’s usually able to figure out what to do, even when it comes down to the hard choices.

“Stop obsessing about stuff you can’t control—and don’t try to control stuff that’s not your business.”

Steph’s right.

He’ll do as Jason asked.

Or, at least he’ll give it a week.

If he hasn't figured out any other way to deal with the situation, he'll go to Bruce.

In the meantime—he has an investigation to get back to.

⁂⁂⁂

Next Chapter

[fractusregalis-blog]

OC Bio

✗ General Information ✗ First Name › Synnøvra Middle Name › Reine Surname › Heizeden Pronunciation of First Name › Syn-ov-rah Pronunciation of Middle Name › Rain Pronunciation of Surname › Hez-den Name Origin › Her name originates from her home kingdom of Zarkidia. Name Meaning › It is derived from the Zarkidian word “Synrøtte” which means “sunshine” or “light.” Named By › She was named by her parents, the King and Queen of Zarkidia. Reason this name was chosen › Due to the fact that her parents had such a hard time having their second child, there was much rejoicing in the kingdom when she was born. The people of Zarkidia began to refer to her as their “little light”, and she was named to fit this — named so that she always remember to bring hope to her people, even in the darkest of times. Official Title › Her Royal Highness, Princess Synnøvra of Zarkidia. Second-in-line to the Zarkidian Throne. Preferred Nicknames › Syn or Søni (Soh-knee) Hydra Name › Alyona Markovna Official Hydra Title › The Blood Rose. She was given this title because Hydra wanted her to be both beautiful /and/ deadly. Theme Song › “Echo” — Jason Walker Zodiac › Cancer ✗ Personal Details ✗ Birth Date › 25th June 1999. Birth Place › She was born in the Zarkidian palace — in her mother’s royal bedchambers. It was a momentous occasion and one full of joy. Age ›Eighteen. Age Appearance › She looks her age. However, due to experimentation with serum from Hydra, her age has been halted — similar to the Super Soldier Serum used on Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. Home › She has never really had a home, considering she was taken from Zarkidia as a baby. It is technically her home, but at times she often feels that she doesn’t belong there, and that she is not worthy of the title that she holds. Location › Depending on RP. It can take place in her home kingdom of Zarkidia or elsewhere. ✗ Gender and Orientation ✗ Gender › Female Pronouns › She/Her Sexual Orientation › Bisexual Romantic Orientation › Biromantic Previous Relationships › None. She actually doesn’t know much about romance. She has spent her entire childhood locked up underground in Hydra Compounds, and nobody there thought it was important to show her what love is. In fact, what she saw of romance was usually negative — she would see her Hydra “parents” argue often, usually involving physical violence. Because of this, she is somewhat fearful of romance and marriage. ✗ Physical Appearance ✗ Nationality › She is Zarkidian. Complexion › Pale-Skinned. She might be a little too pale, due to the fact she spent the majority of her life indoors with no access to direct sunlight. She tends to burn quite easily. Height › 5’4 Weight › 99 lbs Over/Underweight › She is a little underweight due to often being starved during her time with Hydra. Blood-Type › O Blood Color › Red ✗ Defining Physical Characteristics ✗ Eye Color › Green, though with a hint of blue if the light catches them in the right way. Contacts/Glasses › None Face Shape › A heart-shaped face with full lips, and freckles on her right cheek and nose. Hair Color › Red Hair Length › Long — it reaches the middle of her back. Dyed › No, this is her natural hair color. Hair Style › Her hair is wavy, with a slight curl at the end. She will often wear it tied in a half-ponytail or in two plaits. Body Build › Slim Body Shape › Pear. Birthmark › She has a small birthmark in the shape of a butterfly on her right hip. This recognizes her as part of the Zarkidian royal family. They have had these birthmarks since the ancient times. Ermolai tried to get rid of the birthmark, but it is unable to be destroyed. Scars › Synnøvra has the symbol of Hydra branded into her shoulder. It was branded into her when she was eight-years-old and Ermolai began to officially train her to become the Blood Rose. She has a scar on her right arm from a time that she tried to rescue a prisoner from being killed. She’s very proud of this. Posture › She stands up straight, though she tends to shift from foot to foot often as she is usually very nervous. She also hugs herself a lot (it brings her comfort). Walk › She has a little bit of a slow walk, she often likes to stop and look at everything around her — something that can seem annoying to the people that she is around. Right/Left Handed › Right-Handed. Handwriting › Incredibly childish scrawl. She is embarrassed by it as she thinks that a princess should have better writing than that. ✗ Intellectual Information ✗ Intelligence Level › She is intelligent and has a very analytical mind. During her time in Hydra, she would often be given the task to hack into enemy computers and allow Hydra to monitor them from afar. Educational Background › She was taught by her adoptive father in Hydra, who put a huge influence on teaching her Hydra’s values. She also learned reading, writing, arithmetic and computer coding. Skills › She is incredibly skilled at hacking into computers. She’s also good with numbers and can usually figure out any math problem that comes her way. Ineptities › The modern world can often be confusing to her. Despite the fact that she is skilled with computers, she has no idea about social media or Internet slang. ✗ Known Languages (in order) ✗ First Language › Russian. It was the primary language that she spoke growing up. She has spent a lot of her time believing that she actually /was/ a Russian. Second Language › Norwegian. Her adoptive mother spoke Norwegian and she learned it at home. Norwegian sounds similar to Zarkidian so knowing it helps her to learn her kingdom’s language. Third Language › English. She speaks some English, but it is not her primary language. Fourth Language › Zarkidian. She has begun to learn some Zarkidian phrases. ✗ Vocal Characteristics ✗ Pitch › She is quite soft spoken and rarely raises her voice, except on occasions when she is quite angered, during which time she will usually end up yelling. She often feels quite guilty afterwards. Speech Mannerisms › She tends to stutter and say things like “uh” or “mm” quite a lot. ✗ Mental State ✗ Emotional Trauma (and why) › She is very broken, due to spending her time being locked up and abused by Hydra. She is a skittish, fearful young girl who jumps at every little noise and believes that one day Hydra will come to take her back. She has extremely low self-esteem and does not believe that she is in any fit to rule over the people of Zarkidia. Mental Illnesses/Disorders › She suffers from Anxiety and PTSD. ✗ Apparel ✗ Clothing-Style › She wears lady-like clothes, such as floral dresses. She enjoys bright colors. Accessories › She has a silver and blue tiara that she often wears. She also has a collection of bracelets and jewels from Zarkidia. Most Prized Possession › A locket that her birth mother would have given to her when she turned ten. Her sister Hanna gave it to her when they met, and she has never taken it off since. It is the most important thing that she owns. ✗ Religious Information ✗ Current Faith › Faith of the Southern Lights. An ancient faith from her kingdom. She was raised without any beliefs, but she has found comfort in the faith of her people. Strength of Beliefs › She isn’t overly religious, but she believes all the same. Religious Practices › Zarkidia have many festivals and holidays that they celebrate, including the “Festival of Southern Stars”; their version of Christmas. ✗ Personal Quotes and Motto ✗ Personal Motto › “Kindness is the gentle whisper on the wind that makes the enemy put down his sword.” Reason for this › It was a quote that her adoptive mother taught to her, and something that she tries to live her life by. ✗ Backstory ✗ Princess Synnøvra Heizeden was born in the Kingdom of Zarkidia, an island that is close to and twinned with Norway. Because her mother had been having such a hard time having children after the birth of her first daughter, Crown Princess Hanna, the Queen Eira doted on her newborn baby. Unfortunately, the happiness in the kingdom did not last long. Over in a Hydra base in Russia, Almira Markov gave birth to a daughter. A problem with the birth forced her to be put into a medically induced coma for a week, and she was unable to meet her new baby. When Ermolai Markov looked at his daughter, he was horrified to notice that she was disfigured. Not wanting his child to be “damaged”, he sought to get rid of her. But he could not simply kill the child; Almira had been told that the baby was alive before she was put into the coma. Besides this, Ermolai had wanted a child to pass on his beliefs to. So he needed a child to swap out for his disfigured daughter. Around this time, Hydra were invading the kingdom of Zarkidia. Ermolai went along with them. Hydra broke into the palace. The King and Queen tried to fight them off, but were outnumbered. Zarkidia soon fell to Hydra’s control. While in the palace, Ermolai found the baby Synnøvra. Seeing her beauty and noting that he could pass her off for his own child, he decided to take the infant princess with him. Almira was brought out of the coma and met her daughter. She doted on her new child, never knowing that Ermolai had killed her real child. Ermolai and Almira named their new daughter Alyona. Ermolai began to brainwash his daughter to make her entirely loyal to Hydra. From a young age, she was forced to watch the painful experimentation that her father would perform on other people. At the age of eight, Alyona herself became the main focus of her father’s experimentation. His ultimate goal was to create a weapon who would be not only beautiful but also deadly and entirely subservient to himself and to HYDRA’s cause. He would subject her to countless hours of experiments and torture, punishing her severely if she ever disobeyed. She has spent the majority of her life kept hidden away from the outside world. At times when she was found to be particularly disobedient, her father would keep her locked in dungeons, oftentimes chained to the wall with no interaction for days on end. Almira, however, secretly did not agree with her husband, and would constantly instill in her daughter the values of kindness and generosity - not wanting her to become the monster that Ermolai wished to create. She cared deeply for her and wanted her to grow up to be a good and loving person. Alyona had a close relationship with Almira and had a lot of respect and love for her. At age twelve, Alyona was ordered to shoot a captured enemy of HYDRA at point-blank rage. She stood up against her father and refused his order, quoting something that her mother has always taught her: “Kindness is the gentle whisper of the wind that makes the enemy lay down his sword.” As punishment, she was forced to watch as her mother was brutally murdered in front of her. When she turned her eighteen, Ermolai gave her a version of the Super Soldier serum, one that halted her aging, as he did not want her to grow old and lose her usefulness. A few weeks after her eighteenth birthday, Alyona escaped the Hydra base that she was being kept in. She found herself in Brooklyn. After learning about the Fallen Kingdom of Zarkidia, Alyona noted that the birthmark on her hip exactly resembled the birthmarks that that Zarkidian royal family all had. She discovered that she was the kidnapped second-in-line for the throne. Alyona (now going by her birth name of Synnøvra) wrote a letter to the Crown Princess Hanna, in which she included a black-and-white photograph of herself in the hopes that she would be able to reconcile with her sister. Crown Princess Hanna has made an allegiance with the Avengers and those members of SHIELD that were not corrupted by HYDRA in order to ensure her sister’s protection. ✗ Personality ✗ Synnøvra is a shy, polite young girl who has seen and suffered a lot in her short life and is broken because of this. Due to Almira’s teachings, she tries to show kindness to everyone that she meets, even in the simplest of ways. She will put others before herself and would willingly die for her loved ones if the need arose. Self-preservation isn’t really a word that’s in her vocabulary; she was known to get herself into trouble oftentimes in her attempts to protect or show some kindness to prisoners that HYDRA had captured. She is skilled in the art of combat and actually quite a good fighter, though you wouldn’t know it. She’s doesn’t really like to fight, and tries to avoid it if possible. She always feels very guilty when she harms someone, even if that person might have deserved it. She doesn’t understand a lot about the outside world due to being kept in HYDRA captivity for the majority of her life. There are many things that HYDRA never taught to her, feeling it unnecessary. Søni is highly skilled in computer hacking and knows quite a bit about it. She has a keen eye for numbers and mathematics. Her knowledge of etiquette and how to be a princess currently stands at 0%. In fact, she believes herself to be unworthy of the title and thinks that her people would be better off without someone like her. There is also a slight bitterness to Synnøvra, despite all this. She harbors a severe rage towards Ermolai and towards HYDRA, and that scares her. She tries to not let it consume her as she fears that rage will turn her into the monster her father believed she could be. Her biggest fear is that she truly is the monster that Ermolai has tried to make her become. This is why she tries so hard to be kind to everyone that she meets, perhaps to the point of being overly kind. She has trouble saying no to people when they request something from her. There is nothing and no-one in the world that Søni hates and fears more than herself. If Synnøvra feels threatened or is triggered, one of two things will happen. Firstly, she may regress into a childlike mindset. She will speak in short, broken Russian, suck her thumb and generally act a lot younger than she is. She often hides away in high places, too. Secondly, she may go mute for some time. During this time, she is /incredibly/ selective with who she speaks to. She will often only mutter short words or sentences in Norwegian or in the limited Zarkidian that she has learnt, and only then to people she feels safe around. If she has to communicate, she will do so by writing in a notebook that she carries around with her. (She would often be yelled at for speaking her mind during her time with Hydra, which is the reason that she does not like to speak her mind with other people — she tends to clam up when asked to express her opinion.) ✗ Likes ✗ Rabbits › She has a stuffed bunny called Snowdrop that she carries around with her everywhere. It was given to her by her mother and it is her favorite possession. Poetry › She finds it therapeutic and will often write short poems if she’s in the middle of a bad episode. It helps her to become more grounded. Nature › “I’ve been hidden from the beauty this world has to offer for all of my life. Now I’m never going back to the dark places again.” Synnøvra /loves/ nature. She’s happiest when she’s among flowers or playing in fields of lush grass. If she finds a stream, she’s the first to kick her shoes off and go running into it, not caring about how muddy her feet get or if she gets her dress dirty. She’s also got a habit of jumping in puddles whenever she can. Zarkidian Culture › She loves to learn about the culture of her kingdom, since she has missed out on so much. Kindness › Kindness is her reason for living. She believes that the world would be a much better place if everyone was less selfish and tried to understand each other better. In her notebook, she has a special section at the back where she glues newspaper articles about acts of kindness that people have performed. For example, an article about someone saving a life will often find its way in there. ✗ Dislikes ✗ HYDRA › She is angered by how HYDRA treated her and everyone else who was a victim of them. It gets her temper rising and she will /obliterate/ anyone who believes that Hydra are good people. (And then hate herself afterwards for being “rude”) Dogs › They are loud and their barking often scares her. Selfishness › For the same reason that Synnøvra loves kindness, she abhors selfishness and will not hesitate to stand up against it in any way that she can. If she sees someone being mistreated, she will jump right in and try to protect them, oftentimes not caring about the consequences. ✗ Phobias ✗ Yelling › Yelling terrifies her as it brings back memories of how her father would yell at her before particularly bad punishments. If she’s yelled at, she will often run away and hide in a high place until she feels that it’s safe to come down. Sirens › She tends to flinch if ever she hears a siren as it triggers her. The time she’s spent in the outside world has made that phobia lessen a small bit, but she will still clutch her right wrist tightly and mutter “safe and sound” in Zarkidian if she hears a siren. This has earned her a few weird looks from passersby. Needles › Due to HYDRA experimentation, she’s scared of needles and clams up whenever she’s around them. Herself › Søni is terrified that she truly is a monster because of what she has been forced to do by Hydra. Though she does her best to keep this fear hidden, it is constantly haunting her. ✗ Social Class Information ✗ Social Class › Royalty, she is a princess. Kingdom › The kingdom of Zarkidia; a small island that is close to Norway. Line of Succession › She is the second-in-line for the throne after her sister, Crown Princess Hanna. When Hanna becomes Queen, Søni will become the next-in-line. She’s absolutely not ready for this. ✗ Family Information ✗ Mother › Queen Eira Heizeden. Alive/Deceased › Deceased; she was killed when Hydra invaded Zarkidia Father › King Ansgar Heizeden Alive/Deceased › Deceased; he was killed in the Hydra invasion along with his wife Siblings › Crown Princess Hanna Heizeden. Birth Order › She is Søni’s older sister and the heiress to the Zarkidian throne. Due to the death of her parents, Hanna has taken on the mantle of ruling Zarkidia. She is twenty years old and will become the Queen of Zarkidia once she has reached twenty-five, as is their custom. ✗ Hydra Family Information ✗ Hydra Mother › Almira Markovna. Alive/Deceased › Deceased; she was murdered by Ermolai when Synnøvra turned twelve Hydra Father › Ermolai Markovna. Alive/Deceased › Alive. ✗ Up Close and Personal ✗ Biggest Fears › Herself. She believes that she is a monster and that no matter how kind she is, she will never be able to escape from her past. Reason for this fear › She was forced to torture people during her time in captivity. She would always be told that she was full of evil and that she could never shake off what she did in the past. Does it take a toll on them/how often? › Every day. She constantly struggles with her actions in the past. Sleeping Habits › She doesn’t sleep very often. She has terrible nightmares. Insomniac › Yes. Very much, so. In fact, she often spends her time sitting up in her room staring at the wall and repeating phrases in Zarkidian to calm herself. ✗ Favorite Things ✗ Favorite Food › Strawberries. Ability to Cook › Non-existent. She tried once and burned whatever it was she was trying to make. Favorite Color › Lilac. Favorite Music › Classical, pop and country. She likes listening to Taylor Swift. Favorite Book › The Other Countess by Eve Edwards. Why? › She likes the historical romance, it gives her hope. Favorite Movie › Tangled. Why? › She and Rapunzel have a lot in common. Both princesses stolen from the kingdoms and trapped away from the world. Favorite Animal › Starlings. Why? › They are the native bird of her kingdom, believed to bring hope to the people. ✗ Additional Facts about this Character ✗ • She once adopted a kitten that ended up wandering into a Hydra base that she was staying at. It lasted a week before Ermolai found out and made her kill it. • She cries at Bambi because of his mother dying. • She hates it when people fight and will always try to quell any argument that she hears. • She sings along to “When Will my Life Begin” from Tangled whenever she watches it. She feels a strong connection to that song and to Rapunzel. • She would do anything to help those who are in need. • She knows very little about the outside world due to her time in Hydra captivity ✗ Kingdom of Zarkidia ✗ Location › It is a small island located near to Norway. Sigil › The Starling. Royal Family › It has been ruled by the Heizeden family since ancient times. Language › Zarkidian and Norwegian. Current Ruler › Crown Princess Hanna. She will become Queen upon turning twenty-five. Zarkidia is an island that is close to Norway. It used to be a thriving kingdom that was ruled by an ancient line of the Royal Family. This all changed during the invasion of Hydra, where the King and Queen were assassinated, and the Princess Synnøvra was kidnapped. The kingdom fell, but it is being rebuilt by Crown Princess Hanna.