#she also gave Steph the talk against her will which Steph thought was stupid because she had already had a kid by then

[raeofgayshine]

Wish there was a way to begin to explain what happened tonight during stream because there’s some kind of gold in Jim thinking that Riddler is fairy (like tinkerbell) but everyone else just thinks he’s calling Ed a slur and the pipeline it leads down, connecting to Bruce thinking babies come from kissing, all the way to Jim asking Ed and Oswald if Tim was “their fairy baby and Tim telling Steph “I think Jim just called me a fairy.” Steph: “sorry you had to find out this way, but we all kind of knew.”

[dailycass-cain]

Dark Crisis wrapped up today with #7. So it's no better time than to talk about Cassandra Cain and DC “Mega Events”. How she's faired in them and compare fairly how the most recent said event was for the character.

Now, just a heads up this is me talking about universal events in DC. Not Bat-specific ones. So No Man's Land, Bruce Wayne: Murderer?/Fugitive, Night of the Monster Men, Joker War, Fear State, etc.

The very first mega event Cass took part in was Joker: Last Laugh (I know right? I said no Batman but guess who the mega event centered on? 🙃🙃🙃) were said Clown Prince of Crime infects various supervillains with a modified form of Joker Venom and set them upon the DCU as his "lasting legacy" because he thought he was dying (sadly he wasn't).

 #3 She shows up to find Harley Quinn with Spoiler. And we get this being the only big highlight of her in the main book:

Cass is well-- overtly cocky in this comic and she gets a hubris check (and her meta-human weakness being exploited as she takes on 3 superpowered Jokerized foes with Steph).

This totally makes the tie-in issue all the more baffling as Cass just straight destroys a Jokerized Shadow Thief in the tie-in with this event in issue Batgirl Vol. 1 #21.

Like outside the event had NUMEROUS Cass appearances? Besides her main book, we get good stuff like this little bit in Wonder Woman #175 below (the issue features all the female heroes of the DCU at that time having their moment and this was Cass's):

That and this event gave us her only team-up with Supergirl (Linda Danvers) in Supergirl #63 where she fights a Bizzaro Supergirl and a Jokerized Two-Face (her second canon encounter with the villain, and the last time she’d fight him canonically until this year’s Batman One Bad Day: Two-Face #1) with the Linda variant.

The next Cass appearance in a DC mega event wouldn't come until... 2007 with World War III.

Aka the only reason, she's in this "event" was to showcase HOW Deathstroke nabbed her and explain why she was EVIL due to "One Year Later".

Now I know I could list Infinite Crisis (the event prior to this). Yes, Cass did have crossovers prior to the “main series”. I.e. #60--71 is one long “tie-in” as she takes on the Society (who Penguin uses to send assassins against her like the Brotherhood of Evil and Deathstroke/Ravager), OMAC, and the Society again (with Nyssa being a member along with using them to make a weapon for her advantage). 

Of course, the biggest effect of the main series would also haunt Cass aka the destruction of Bludhaven:

:But again, she never showed up in the “main series”. Just dealing with the aftermath. Unlike say WW III where she appears throughout the mini-series (which mainly tells of Black Adam wanting revenge against the world for what was wrought upon him in the 52 series). 

Cass’s role though is more “filler”:

That's it. 

That's the extent of "WHY" she's justified in this event. 

We already know HOW this goes down (not good for Cass) and it's just "Why do we need this?!" Other than to fill that gap between OYL and Titans East (which was going on in the Teen Titans comic at the time this event was going on. It was DC’s attempt to get the last gasp of EVIL Cass before they undid the STUPID mistake they made back in 2006).🙃

I mean they did retcon showing that it was her and Alfred who really was looking out for Gotham during that year (and not just Harvey Dent with a few weeks of training from Bruce). But oh shucks that wasn’t the story we COULD’VE GOTTEN INSTEAD.

A year later we'd get our very next appearance of Cass in an event with Final Crisis #1 and she's in this group shot here and...

That's it. That's all she does. She doesn’t even show up as a corrupted female Fury (but then again maybe that’s for the best). I guess the closest we get to an actual “appearance” is the prelude to the event which had DC running various mini-series that all fed into this comic.

For Cass she appeared near the tail end of Gotham Underground (her and Helena mopped up some of the gangs that were at war with one another trying to take over the Gotham Underworld with Great White having been taken out by Bane). 

 We wouldn't get another appearance of Cass in a mainline DC Event until--- 2015 with Convergence.

But it’s a bit of rinse and repeat here. Not really doing much in the main book Cass does but showing up towards the final issue of it in various panels (like the one above). 

Her, Steph, and Tim do have their part in Convergence Batgirl #1-2. But yeah... I made my thoughts much on how flawed that series was (even if #1 has a few cute moments).

Truth be told, I rather enjoy her one panel cameo in Nightwing & Oracle #2, where she and Steph attend Dick/Babs’ wedding. And I didn’t even realize that it was them until much latter on. 

So we’re given another event by DC that didn't treat the character with any sort of respect. Surprisingly, it would take until 2020 we'd get an event that would treat Cass fairly in Dark Knights: Death Metal.

Cass shows up in various forms in the event first in #4 as Batgirl in the "bad ending" to Final Crisis with Darkseid winning (seriously it’s little bits like this that writer Scott Snyder pays so much attention as these three heroes were the ones really not accounted for when the New God took over the Earth at that time period. 

Then right after that issue began showing up all over the place in the event. From being a supporting cast appearance in the secondary story in Dark Knights: Death Metal Robin King #1 (along with a one-panel cameo in the first as an evil Batman being tortured by the Batman who Keks) to appearing throughout the remaining three issues of the main book.

Along with showing up in Dark Nights Death Metal: The Last 52 - War of the Multiverses #1 (in the Dexter Soy drawn scenes particularly because I guess he loved to draw her) and another as Batgirl in the Prime one-shot to this event.

Though to her appearance in the later I more attribute to timey whimey multiverse shenanigans as Nightwing was flashing between his Justice League tie-in garb to his usual attire in the story. So I guess he and Cass had “issues”. 

That or an artist slipped this in because she was back to being Batgirl in the main Batman comics at this time.

I gotta say this is probably one of the better events for Cass. Even if she didn't do anything it got you interested in with a, "Hey who is this?" And blows the lid off the rest of the events prior.

This leads us to the latest event, Dark Crisis of Infinite Earths. Cass did have appearances in the main series yes. I did enjoy the comic because of #2 and well three of my favorite DC characters being in an event warms my heart.

Look I love Cyborg Superman too. Don’t judge me.

While I did ENJOY Dark Crisis, were the Cass appearances throughout the main series good? 

 No.

The book's core theme is legacy and yeah the Batgirls were there but never once did the Batgirl mantle mean anything in the event save kick Punchline in the face (which okay is VERY DESERVED given she’s abusing their girlfriend in her mini’s). But...

Cass/Steph/Babs never once appear in the "legacy" shots of the book nor is the Batgirl mantle even treated as such either (unlike Green Lanterns, the Flashes, the Supermen, the Batmen, and Wonder Women). 

Really of the Batgirls in the event, probably Steph had the best showing in it of the three. She had a little subplot go on from the beginning to end with Nocturna. 

I mean yeah both Cass/Steph had a good showing in The Flash #786 (which isn't all surprising as it is the best comic DC is currently churning out).

But even with the final issue when there COULD'VE been a moment. No really there SHOULD’VE BEEN A MOMENT.

We literally had main universe Cazzam and all we got was this:

How do you screw up something so awesome? Tom Taylor would’ve freaking given us it! Heck why wasn’t he on speed dial to the editor saying, “Um yeah Cazzam needs to do something with that specify cover coming up in January). 

But there wasn't. 

I do like that Cass was consistently SHOWN in the final battle attacking things way out of her class (she literally tried to attack the Spectre and was shown attacking B and C-list supervillains who are all physically strong). 

But yeah.

 I'm conflicted about the event when it comes to that when thinking about the overall appearance of Cass in this. She appeared and fought, but really didn't do anything of note (unlike Death Metal where SOMETHING of a status quo shift hit her directly).

I digress we didn't get that ACTUAL ramification with Cass until LAST WEEK'S BATGIRLS #13!!! It's only been implied never fully shown Cass had her past memories (or old origin fully back).

A wee bit two years later. 😬

I mean if you take the implication that she’s Orphan during this event and at the start of Joker War she still is such and then during said event becomes Batgirl again with Steph (Batman: Joker War Zone #1):

Again, I'll take Dark Crisis and Death Metal over the stuff DC had given Cass in the past. Even if they screwed up the overall legacy message (at least for Batgirls) I'll take it over World War III or Convergence any day.

Cause at the very least both treated the character somewhat fairly. The message was there even if it wasn't fully stated in Dark Crisis as it was for Death Metal. So we got a happy Cass in the end in both:

[littlefreya]

The Kitten & the Bear - Part 1

Intro: This story is a collab and was written by both @wolvesandhoundshowltogether​ and I. It was born out of a fun role play we have going on. We ended up having so much a fun with this particular idea that we thought we should post it as a 3 part story and share it with the rest!

| Read Part 2  | Read Part 3 |

Summary: After a night of drinking in town get Walter’s bratty wife ends up with pure chaos and the overprotective grumpy husband is having none of her shenanigans. 

Pairing: Detective Walter Marshall x OFC (first person pov) 

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Bratty behaviour, vandalism, dominant overprotectiveness, BDE, husband stalking his wife, sexual innuendo, dirty inappropriate talks, mentions of sex and oral, weed and alcohol usage. Sex in the next parts :D Walter is a Boomer. 

A/N: We didn’t beta it and did transform it from 2nd to 1st person POV, really hoping you guys will enjoy it as we did. Feel free to share your thoughts. 

Title: The Kitten & the Bear

Nothing chilled my heart more than waking up in an empty bed. Walter was already gone, leaving his side of the mattress cold and abandoned. A heavy sigh broke from my lips, I stroked the ghost of the kiss that still tingled on my cheek, knowing he planted it there before heading to work. 

Sadness seeped into my heart as I realised I won't see him today. Our work scheduled conflicted and I have scheduled a "date night" with my girls in the evening. Picking up my phone, I texted him a pouty emoji and then headed to get my day started.

Walter left me on read, which just fuelled the brat in me. When he called during his lunch break, he was taciturn as usual, and most of the call was about his disapproval of us girls going out without at least one male friend or a boyfriend to chaperone.

"Oh my god, Walter, this is not the 50s! Women can leave their house without a husband tagging along!" I grunted and berated him, "stop acting like someone is going to kidnap me!!! I'm an adult woman!" I snapped at him while sitting at the cafe. People sitting around stared quietly as I hung up the phone, and stormed out.

~~~

Walter looked at his mobile phone, shocked. He couldn't even remember the last time someone hung up on him, let along his wife.

"Fucking brat," he muttered as he pocketed it. 

After lunch, he went into the precinct. Since it was flu season and they were having a shortage of uniformed officers, he volunteered to patrol tonight. Assuming he might even be able to check up on me wherever I get to town. Just to keep me safe. That's right. Not from jealousy. Not because I'll be all dolled up and tipsy and every man in the vicinity will ogle me.

~~~

As the evening loomed, I was in dire need of letting loose. Walter had left me incredibly frustrated, acting like a police officer from hell rather than my husband. Going through my closet, I stumbled upon the most outrageous piece of wardrobe: a black strappy thing with corset details at the front. The same one I've worn for our first date which of course ended up with Walter and I dry humping like two horny teenagers at the back of his truck and him eating me out until I came all over his beard 4 times. 

I slapped a dark red lipstick and put on a pair of red "fuck me" pumps before leaving to meet the gals in a new night club that had just opened. I might or might not have a rolled-up joint in my purse.

~~~

Walter was sitting in a patrol vehicle on the opposite side of the street from the new fancy club with translucent walls. We were all sitting beside the window at a small table full of cocktail glasses, but the girls were gesturing toward the dance floor. Walter chose a dark spot on the street to park the car and was wearing a beanie. 

But he didn't need it. He knew I was oblivious to him and also to the men staring at me from 3 different tables. He ground his teeth frustrated when he first noticed that I was wearing that dress. His blood boiled as I was slowly sipping a cocktail with a sexy little pout around the long straw.

"Let's dance!!! I wanna dance!!!" I whined at my friend Keylah, grabbing her wrist and dragging her with me. My posture was slightly unstable after two cocktails and probably not enough food to pad my belly. She followed me to the dance floor while Stephanie remained in her seat, talking to some guy just for the sake of trolling. He'd been hitting on each one of us unsuccessfully. 

After an hour of dancing with Keylah, swaying my ass in ways that didn't leave any imagination to the men lurking, I remembered the little treat I had in my purse and decided we should take a small break to breathe some fresh air. 

I grabbed the girls, and we walked outside.

"Okay, don't you dare mention this to Walter," I warned them as I took the joint out from my purse.

"Daddy Magnum gonna punish you?" Steph teased while I lit the weed. 

"Oh, you have no idea, he gave me shit about seeing you tonight without a male chaperone, like this is Mad Man or something." 

"Woah! Walter is a boomer!!!" Keylah teased, and we all laughed hysterically. 

~~~

Unbeknownst to me, Walter was watching us dance from his patrol car, getting more and more frustrated by the hour. He observed as I gathered both girls and came out on the street, walking a couple of meters away from the entrance. A frown fell on his face as he saw me taking a lighter out from my purse.

"She doesn't even smoke, what the hell?" he fumed. 

His eyes widened when he saw the telltale shape of a joint between my fingers. His mouth was agape as I lit it up and started smoking and passing it around. "What the fuck? Where did she get that?" he muttered incredulously.

'It's fucking illegal in Minnesota, what the fuck? A cop's wife at that!' He thought, rage simmering in his gut.  

The police radio suddenly began buzzing, the sergeant calling on the line. 

"Hey Marshall, Toby came in for the night shift after all. Do you want him to keep you company?" 

'And see Walter's wife going to town on a spliff? No fucking way.' 

"No, Sarge, thanks. It's uh... calm tonight." He frowned from afar. "Nothing but law-abiding citizens," he replied, hoping his sarcasm didn't go through while he was watching the wife of a respected detective drunk and smoking weed in the great outdoors.

"All right" the sarge concluded and cut the line, and Walter put back the radio.

‘Un-fucking-believable.'

~~~

The girls and I fell into a fit of wild giggles, thoroughly buzzed and high at the same time. My skirt rode up my thighs, and I didn't even bother fixing it as the combination of drugs and alcohol made me frivolous and careless. 

"Is Walter such a nerd in bed too? Is he one of those guys who won't even make a sound because they are ashamed of it?" Stephanie asked to which I immediately snorted.

"Walter fucks like a beast from hell," I answered and put off the remains of the joint against the heel of my shoe. 

"I had to go to the gyno at least four times in the past because he was too violent, and trust me, the noise he makes, luckily no one called the police yet…" 

"Jennifer, your husband is the police!" Keylah answered, and we burst into another fit of giggles which then gradually died down. 

The same man who bugged us from before followed us outside, giving us some stares and making a suckling voice with his lips. I snorted at him and told him to fuck off before putting my arms around my girls. 

"This place sucks, let's go grab something to eat from the store, if Walter sees me like this I will NEVER hear the end of it".

~~~

Walter was watching us walk away, still furious about my illicit behaviour. He promised himself that he'd have a serious conversation with me about this tomorrow. He gave us two blocks of a head start and then ignited the engine of the car and made a U-turn, slowly he rolled towards the store and saw us enter. He made another U-turn in front of the store to park across the street. He just hoped that we'll buy some nachos and a coke and then call it a night, and call a cab to go home.

~~~

It was close to 1am. We barged into the store, marching through as if we owned the place. Keylah stopped by the condoms section and threw a bottle of lube in my direction. "Here you go, Jennifer, you gonna need it".

I laughed and threw it back at her, grabbing a bag of chips and a bottle of water. 

"Better fuck his brains before he starts asking where you've been tonight," Stephanie added. 

"Can you girls please behave?" The clerk-lady requested politely, giving us a prudent look. I rolled my eyes at her and then stopped short as I saw a large stuffed grizzly bear that reminded me of Walter. I grabbed it and hugged it tightly just as I got the sudden urge to misbehave.

"Girls…" I whispered, making them come closer, "bet you a 20 I can sneak this out without paying!"

~~~

Walter's shoulders slumped, and he let out an irritated groan when he saw one of the girls throwing things inside the store. Though, he sighed in relief when I paused this stupid game, and a small smile tugged the edge of his mouth when I hugged a huge stuffed bear that reached down to my thighs and was high above the top of my head as I squeezed it to my torso. 

The way I looked at the bear reminded him of the loving looks I always gave him. But a sense of foreboding assaulted him as we started whispering and pointed at the door.

~~~

"Okay, okay… shush!" I whispered way too obvious and held the stuffed animal behind my back.

"Hey Keylah, can you pay for my chips?" I asked and backed away toward the door, nearly stumbling on my heels and holding the laughter in my gut. 

Noticing my attempt, the old woman cleared her throat, giving me a glare, "You are going to have to pay for that or I will call the police…"

"Her husb…"

"Shut up, Stephanie!" Keylah shouted and threw a bottle of lube in her direction, accidently hitting my shoulder, which made me drop the bear on the floor. 

"Key, you fucking bitch!!!" I answered and picked up the bottle, throwing it back at her. 

"Hey stop that!!!!" The clerk demanded and walked back behind the counter, picking up her phone. 

We ignored her, laughing like schoolgirls and throwing the bottle back and forth between us. Boxes of tampons and condoms fell to the floor as we moved through the hygiene section shouting playfully. 

As Keylah threw the bottle at me for the 12th time, I lifted it and threw it so hard it hit the window and broke it, causing the store's alarm to go off immediately.

"Oh… fu……..ck" I uttered.

~~~

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no," Walter panicked as he saw us vandalising the store. He was immediately ready to jump out of the car, but then it would be obvious he'd been keeping an eye on me. He had to wait for the call. 

He wasn't even hoping that the clerk would not involve the police in the matter. She has to. ‘Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck.’ 

When he saw the lady picking up the phone, he buried his face in his palms and rubbed it tiredly.

"Stupid, fucking bitches" he sighed, not believing his wife being so reckless. 

He picked up the buzzing radio and said, "Marshall. I'm here. On it." 

Without delay, he took the beanie off and got out of the car with his badge and gun ready.

~~~

Fingers dug into my hair, I stared wide-eyed at the broken window, immediately regretting all my decisions in the last couple of hours. 

'Walter was going to fucking kill me'. 

"I am soooooooo……." I began to say, turning to the clerk slowly while Keylah and Steph held their hands over their mouths. "So sorry." I stretched out while the alarm continued ringing in my ears. 

Then just like out of a nightmare, stepping through shards of broken glass with his big black boots, I saw Walter walking in, his brows knit together, his badge and his gun held out but kept low. He was enormous and menacing, yet the sight of him comforted me.

"Oh thank god, it's you!" I call out relieved.

~~~

The glass cracked beneath his steps as he walked in. He looked around and checked the store for cameras. 'Fuck, there were CCTVs'. 

He hoped to snatch me away and take care of the situation without involving... well himself but now that there was evidence it wasn't possible anymore. I was looking at him like a frightened little girl, but he couldn't help me, and frankly, he didn't feel like it either.

He looked at the clerk, showed her his badge and said in a neutral tone "MPD. What seems to be the problem?" 

~~~

My breath hitched at his "cop voice" and the way he asked the clerk. 

Stepping back and standing in the middle of the group, the three of us gaped at him with utter dumbfoundedness. Both my heart and gut dropped to the messy floor out of fear, and the way he carried himself, looking so menacing and authoritative made my panties drenched with arousal. 

"Officer, thank god you arrived! These three tried to steal a stuffed animal and started wreaking havoc in the store, throwing stuff around like children and speaking offensively!" The old woman explained and stood in the middle of the mess, looking helpless. 

My eyes rounded with false innocence, and I nibbled my bottom lip, giving Walter a vulnerable look. 

Walter was patiently listening to the clerk. Not a muscle flinched on his face as if he'd known everything. He took his notebook and a report form out and took care of the paperwork. 

The old lady eyed the three of us nervously while Walter was scribbling, and she hesitantly asked, "I'm sorry, Officer, but shouldn't you handcuff them? They might run."

Walter's curly head lifted, and he flashed the lady a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Don't worry, ma'am. They won't run."

"Is he serious?" Steph whispered, and I elbowed her, giving Walter a rather pissed off smile as he pretended not to know us at all and treated me like any other criminal.

Was it that just for show? Probably. We were going to have a serious talk about boundaries once we'd get home.

Walter finished writing his report and made the lady sign it before turning to look at the three of us, clenching his jaw. 

After a long, stern silence, I finally spoke, "Can I still get the teddy bear?"

Walter's nostrils flared as he dug into his pocket, pulled out a 20-dollar bill, slammed it on the counter and said to the clerk "For the bear."

At first, the lady was dumbfounded, then she blurted out outraged "Why are you buying a gift for a criminal?"

Walter didn't even spare her a look. He picked up the bear and looked at me with unflinching, stern eyes that made all three of us take a step backwards.

"Because she's my fucking wife."

The tone of his voice made the three of us startle, and I released a small gasp, seeing the look on his face. Walter made a gesture with his hand singling us to walk out of the store in order, and we did as he commanded. At the same time, my eyes gave him a mischievous smirk, mistaking this behaviour for a show.

Walter left the store last and immediately commanded, "To the car".

When we got there on the opposite side of the street, he opened the car and shoved the teddy bear on the passenger seat, then turned back, crossed his hands on his chest, and looked at all three of us. 

"Here's how it's gonna happen. We go in the precinct, fill out the forms, you stay the night, and most likely will be charged with a misdemeanour. Although the weed might be more problematic." He glared at me pointedly. 

The girls and I collectively gasped. 

"Now get in the back seat, all of you."

With shuddering legs, Keylah and Steph obediently entered the patrol car. I stared at Walter as he stood there towering over me, his massive arms crossed around his broad chest.

Still intoxicated, I looked at him with disbelief, realising two things: he arrived at the scene in less than two minutes after the lady called the police, which is impossible. And two, he couldn't possibly know I had weed on me unless… 

"Were you stalking me?!" I called out, ignoring the police officer and speaking to my husband. My hands went to my hips, my face sulking. 

"Oh my god, Walter! You were! Weren't you?" I frowned and shook my head, grunting with disgust.

"You are in no position to reproach me for anything right now", Walter said, seemingly calm. "But if you wanna know, I was patrolling in the neighbourhood and decided to check up on you. I saw the way you were shaking your ass for strangers" he spat, but he let his eyes roam the tight dress, and the way he subtly licked his lips made me sure he remembered exactly which dress it was.

"Do as you're fucking told and get in the car or you're gonna find yourself in even bigger trouble." 

"Oh my god, Walter!!! Are you fucking kidding me?!" I yelled at him and stepped back, throwing my hands in the air furiously.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS!!! MY OWN HUSBAND STALKING ME?! What's next Walter? You gonna put an ankle bracelet thingy on me, so I don't get to leave the house without your fucking permission?!"

I got so angry, my hands pushed at his chest, to which he didn't even budge, and only his jaw tightened.

"I am NOT getting into that car, and you are going to let Keylah and Steph go before you are going to be in trouble!"

Keylah and Steph were both watching with utter fascination as they saw the growing tension in Walter's posture.

Once Keylah and Steph were inside the car, they felt like the immediate danger was over. Their drunkenness and high made them reckless again and they started cheering me in the verbal fight with my husband.

Walter was on the verge of bursting, it was evident from his face. He took a menacing step towards me and despite my anger, a pang of arousal shot in my core.

"Get. in the. fucking. car" he growled in a barely audible voice. He gave me one last chance to voluntarily obey him.

I moved closer toward him, my head tilting up to meet his menacing gaze, my breasts ghostly brushing against his hard torso.

"I am not going anywhere with you," I answered unflinchingly. "Keep this attitude up, and the whole town will get to enjoy me swaying this ass long before you do." I teasingly slapped my own ass and then smirked arrogantly as I heard the girls cheering at the backseat

"That's it."

Quick as lightning, Walter's hands uncrossed and shot out. He grabbed my arms, turned me around with dizzying speed and slammed my torso down on the hood of the police car.

"Jennifer Marshall, you are under arrest for destruction of property, public intoxication and obstruction of a law enforcement officer."

I gasped incredulously as I felt the metal handcuffs closing on my wrists while Walter was performing his duty automatically and methodically. I'd never seen him make an arrest, let alone manhandle me like this.

With my cheek pressed against the cold metal, I could see both Keylah and Steph gape at us, eyes and mouth wide with daze. 

Still intoxicated, I hissed as a shiver of fear and sexual arousal shot through my spine, creeping all the way down to my throbbing core. 

"What the fuck are you doing?!" I cried out in protest. "I am your wife!"

My attempt to stand up brought my ass to collide with his crotch, where I felt the unmistakable throb of his blood circulating down to his groin. 

"Are you also getting the feeling that they're gonna fuck?" Steph whispered to Keylah, loud enough for us to hear.

"Shush!" she answered and stared, licking her lips. 

"Let me go, you fucking pig!" I screamed and squirmed on the hood helplessly. 

"Anything you say will be held against you in the court of law" Walter continued in his deep cop voice as if I hadn't even spoken.

"Say his dick, girl!" Keylah shouted, and Steph wooed, but they quickly shut up and resorted to concealed giggling as Walter shot angry eyes at them. He stepped closer to secure his hold on the handcuffs, and I felt the warm coarse material of his jeans at the back of my thighs.

"If you don't want to add resisting arrest and possession of narcotics to your offences, shut the fuck up and stop squirming."

"Fuck” I hissed, which didn't go unnoticed by Walter. My ass naturally shifted against his hardening bulge, and I moaned gently, not loud enough for the girls to hear but definitely heard by Walter, who had his hand around my cuffed wrists.

"You're enjoying this, big guy?" I spit out sardonically, "controlling your wife like you always want to, hmm?"

With the alcohol flushing through my veins, mingled with the sheer exhilaration of anger, I became more daring than ever.

"I think you are just scared because we both know you are never going to tame me."

[inevitably-johnlocked]

A Little LOKI Theory Post

*SPOILERS FOR LOKI E1-3 BELOW CUT*

I am loathe to admit that I love the new LOKI TV series, mainly because of the Mobius/Loki dynamic, the interesting sci-fi plot, and just... I so far surprisingly like every episode. This was the show I had such low expectations for, because I didn��t really like LOKI – I felt he was the Moriarty of the MCU, overused when they didn’t need him, and making me annoyed by an actor I love.

EXCEPT I’m also a sucker for character-driven, psychoanalysis stories, like all these D+ Marvel shows are, and it’s leaving me super shocked about me liking characters I didn’t before. I’m fully invested in all these characters now.

I think the only reasom I really wanted to see this show for was because it ties directly into the next Dr. Strange movie, so YEAH, I’m in love multiverse and time travel things, so it was inevitable that I would enjoy this show, I think.

AND of course, I’ve theories and speculations because there’s a lot to work with, and I LOVE stories like these, so I decided I would take some time out and stretch out my meta-writing grey cells. And I wanted somewhere to have my theories/ideas written out before they come to fruition, because DAMNIT I have headcanons and hopes and dreams.

So here we go, spoilers below cut. Please note I know nothing about the comics aside from what other theorists and reviewers have mentioned:

The TVA are “the bad guys” but I think it goes deeper than that... Like the whole Timekeeper thing is really sus. I think it’s only one Timekeeper, who is Kang the Conqueror, who maintains the Sacred Timeline to ensure that he stays in power to PREVENT the Multiverse War which I think he knows happened to stop him. I also think Renslayer is behind all of this suspicious thing; I learned that in the comics Renslayer is a love interest for Kang, so like........... SUS.

AND I think Multiverse War they talked about in the beginning of the show IS the Multiverse War they’re ABOUT TO HAVE. This is a show about non-linear time, and there’s hints about multiverses in the next Spiderman, and Dr Strange is LITERALLY called “Multiverse of Madness”. Wild Theory: Maybe Doctor Strange IS one of the Time Keepers following the Multiverse War.

Loki initially wants to learn the enchanting that Sylvie does for his own selfish gain, and I think he was lying about breaking the TempPad so he would force her to open up. HOWEVER, I think he had a sudden change of heart after learning about the TVA’s Variant Staff; we already see him sort of fond of both Mobius and remembers Casey’s name, so I feel like that he will end up using this knowledge he gained very differently.

Further on this point, they established in Ep 3 that TVA agents / staff need actual real memories to “manipulate” them. So, I think Loki will use this power he learned from Sylvie (I mean, she explained to him how to do it, and this show is really good at using the “Chekov’s guns” given to us) to bring Mobius to “his side”, and TOGETHER they take down the TVA and make it what it should be. Mobius is very dedicated to the TVA, so I really do forsee that it will be Loki “freeing” Mobius as the catalyst to swaying to siding with Loki until the end. He’s a good man with a big heart for humanity, so I think he will totally side with freeing everyone else.

On that note, I think the reason Mobius is fascinated with the nineties is because he’s a variant jetskiier pulled from the nineties. I suspect in his original timeline he probably had a jetski accident and died, but in the Variant timeline, he survived, and out of pity I think Renslayer “saved” him and recruited him. The TVA wiped his memories after he couldn’t cope with the fact that he was SUPPOSED to die.

ALSO still on Mobius, I think every time he keeps questioning too much, he gets his memory wiped, which would explain why he never remembers leaving the cup stains on Renslayer’s table.

I think there’s more to Miss Minutes than meets the eye. Another theory I had was that she was similar to VIKI in iRobot, essentially running the company to her programmed “laws” after the TimeKeepers passed on. So like there’s no TimeKeepers at all, but there was at one time, and Miss Minutes was left to her own devices.

Another theory similar to this, is the Doctor Who episode, The Long Game, where everyone wants to be promoted to “Floor 500″ because it’s rumoured to be a paradise and is the top floor no one has ever returned from; It turns out it’s run by an alien that feeds on the human or something similar, and the people who went to the top floor ended up frozen husks of who they were. Not saying it’s this exact thing, but more the idea that everyone thinks what’s upstairs is a magical wonderful benevolent corporation looking out for what’s best for everyone, but instead it’s one evil thing doing stuff for their own purpose. Eh.

Another rogue theory: Mobius IS a Loki variant, which is why he’s obsessed with Loki himself, knows Loki better than Loki knows himself, and either knows and omitted it, or DOESN’T know but naturally is intrigued by the Loki Variant and him always finding out the truth is WHY his memory keeps getting wiped, and why everyone is always squeamish about having a Loki around. Mobius mentioned that Loki is the one Variant they have stopped more Lokis than any other Variant....

On that thought: IF Lokis are the most common Variant they capture, I think a LOT of the TVA are Loki Variants, trapped in the forms they were presenting as when they were brought in, and because magic doesn’t work in the TVA, they CAN’T turn off the glamour, had their memories wiped, and in turn could now be Codenamed Casey, or Mobius, or B15........ An abstract theory, but I think it’s interesting.

And another, since I learned that it is in the comics: Mobius is a clone drone. This one saddens me and I really hope he’s not. Because I love Mobius.

I think Sylvie was a Variant who worked for the TVA, but somehow had an awakening and wants to free everyone else... the only thing against this theory is her seeming surprised that her magic stopped working when she arrived at the TVA. If she was an agent, she would know that magic doesn’t work within the TVA.

And I think this series will inevitably – if the rumours of a Season 2 are true – have the Mobius / Loki dynamic solving Time Crimes... a.... Holmes and Watson if you will. :D HAHHA.

So yeah. This list will change obviously for the next 3 weeks, and I had a lot of fun with this so I will probably keep it up.

Some things I hope happen by the end:

A giant “probably not going to happen because this is Disney”: I hope they pay-off the “bisexual” confirmation by the end of this... highkey with Mobius (damn it I ship them okay), but lowkey just even a passing remark about anyone LOL. I really ship Lokius, okay. I need this dynamic in the MCU

PLEASE DON’T KILL CASEY, we love Casey. #FREECASEY

I’ll be really honest here, I will effing GROAN and be a not-happy Steph if they do the ship that I think they’re gonna do: Sylvie x Loki. Which is weird to me that Disney would be okay with self-love, but the OBVIOUS initial dynamic of Loki x Mobius is too much, “look we gave you bisexual Loki, aren’t you happy enough??” Just. I dunno. It’s weird / a pet peeve of mine that a lot of online reviewers are bitching about “woke” Disney the one time they ACTUALLY FINALLY let a title character say they’re queer, but are all “UWU SYLVIE AND LOKI ARE GONNA GET TOGETHER BECAUSE LOKI LOVES HIMSELF UWU”. Even though Loki spent legit more screen time with Mobius, and literally did everything he told Sylvie that he wouldn’t do around people he doesn’t trust around Mobius ALREADY?? It’s like they already forgot about the first two eps. LEGIT the whole dagger=love metaphor LITERALLY happened in the previous two episodes, but alright chiefs. Anyway. Sorry, it’s stupid to be bothered by it. 

We’re gonna get that heart wrench moment that the other two shows had, and I TRULY BELIEVE it’s gonna be between Loki and Mobius when Loki tells / shows Mobius the truth. LOOK I JUST WANT MORE OF THEM OKAY. And I need my heart ripping moment in this show within the next two eps LOL. We got one in WandaVision. We got one in FATWS. GIVE ME ONE IN LOKI. MAKE ME LIKE LOKI.

Anyway, so that’s my rambling. Thanks for taking time out to read all this. I miss theorizing, and this show is perfect for me to do it. I’m not AS good at these shows as I was with Sherlock, but it’s still fun, because it’s new and my brain is full of headcanons and idea things. I’ll write again after Ep 4, I think. <3 Thank you lovelies for letting me do this!

[jobrookekarev]

One Step Forward and Three Steps Back

Chapter One of Six

Words: 2783

Summary: Jo wants to marry Alex more than anything, there’s just a few hoops she has to jump through before she can make that a reality. When she finally takes the plunge to free herself from her past, it all comes back to haunt her.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy.

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson, Jo Wilson/Paul Stadler (Past). 

Characters: Alex Karev, Jo Wilson, Stephanie Edwards, and Paul Stadler.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences, 

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Physical Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Assault, Drinking, Alcohol, Divorce.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

AN: Updates Bi-weekly 

……………………………………………………………………

“Let's make a baby,” Jo said as she walked over to him, offering up everything she had to him. 

“What?” Alex paused, truly looking over at her for the first time since he came into the loft.

“You said that you wanted a baby, and you would make an amazing dad,” Jo said, she knew that this was what he'd wanted for years now, and if that's what he wanted, she could be ready. “And that's what you're worried about, right, that I'm not all in? But I am. And I love you.”

The second her fingers touched his cheek, he pulled away. It was something he had never done before. All the times they had fought before, he had never pulled away from her touch, and him doing so now truly scared her.

“Are you gonna tell me why you won't marry me?” Alex asked again, staring deep into her eyes as if he could read the answer in her face. 

“I told you that I love you,” Jo said, but when she wouldn't answer him, he just turned away and went back to packing his things. “And that I'm not going anywhere. So isn't that enough? Can't that be enough for you?” 

“You know, I was with Mer this morning, and I was thinking, the two of us, we've been through hell. You know, all kinds of drama, crazy family stuff, we both almost died, losing people we love.” 

“No, you're not losing me,” Jo interrupted him, she wanted him to know that he wasn't going to lose her, and she didn't want to lose him.

“The point is, we grew up. Mer and I are grown up,” Alex said, turning around to look back at her. “We got through it. And hell is behind me. It's in my rearview mirror, and I'm not going back. I'm done.” 

“Alex, please,” Jo begged him, the last two words rang in her ear and broke her heart in an instant, but she held back the tears. It wasn’t the end, it couldn’t be.  

“I'm not, I'm not, some idiot kid anymore, Jo. I'm a man, and I'm done with games. I'm done with, with crazy. I'm done with losing. I'm done with drama. I don't care about your secrets and your excuses and your drama. You know, I've had that,” Alex said, and he was right. He shouldn't have to put up with her drama and her secrets, and she wished she could spare him from it all and tell the truth, but she just couldn't.

“Alex, if we could just,” Jo pleaded with him one last time.

“I just said I don't want to do this!” Alex screamed, as he raised his voice, she grew quiet. “I, I have never had one second of anything real my entire life. I want truth. I want, I want a wife and a house and a family! Amelia and, uh, Owen's wedding today, I want that!”  

“I can give you family and a home,” Jo pleaded, trying to get Alex to say. 

“But you won't be my wife?” Alex yelled as he stopped throwing the rest of his clothes in his bag to look at her. 

They had fought before, but not like this. He was so angry, but Jo wasn't frightened of him. She was, however, frightened to tell him the truth. She knew he deserved the truth, but she couldn't give it to him. Jo knew what Alex would do to Paul when he found out. She knew because she saw how mad he got when she had shown up on his doorstep after her fight with Myers. She knew that if Paul even looked at her wrong or dared to lay a finger on her, Alex would kill him and she couldn't live with herself if she caused that.

“I, I can't,” Jo whispered, her words coming out in a painful breath. 

She wanted to explain or at least give him a part of the truth. A part of her was protecting him from his own anger, but another part of her had held the secret for so long and, every time she tried to say it, it was like the words were trapped in her head.

Alex looked so disappointed as he shook his head before he grabbed his bags and left. It broke her, it broke her to see Alex walk away like that. Jo sat down on the bench, held the pillow to her chest as she cried. After everything she had done to get away from Paul, changing her name, leaving behind all of her friends, including the boy who is like a brother to her, and starting over in Seattle. He was still ruining her life and her relationship with Alex. 

She had thought about divorcing Paul for the past few months, ever since Alex proposed. She had contacted the lawyer that Arizona had used for her divorce case. Michelle had shown Jo her options and it all seemed easier than Jo realized. She had also dug up Jo’s medical history from her time with Paul. With the clear evidence of domestic abuse, Michelle said she could help Jo get an emergency protective order. It would go into effect right away, and then a domestic violence restraining order would protect her during the divorce proceedings and for the rest of her life. Michelle said that because of their separate lives, it would be an easy divorce. She had drafted the papers and sent them over to her, all they had to do was sign them. 

Jo didn't know if Paul would make this easy and sign the papers, or if he would drag it out for years, but she wanted to try. She tried to tell herself that with the restraining order and a lawyer on her side, she could do it. Jo wanted Alex to be by her side, but now Alex was gone, and he would be gone for good if she didn't divorce Paul. 

She went over to the liquor cabinet. Jo grabbed the bottle of the hardest rum they had and took a swig. It burned her throat as she drank it and Jo took as much as she could before she put the bottle down. If she was going to do this, she needed as much liquid courage as she could get. 

Jo made up her mind. She was going to divorce Paul.

She pulled out her phone and called Michelle. Michelle set up an appointment to meet with her the following day and said she would get the ball rolling. She would file the emergency restraining order and finalize the divorce papers that had been sitting in her drawer for months. Michelle assured her that she would have a restraining order against Paul at the end of the day and that she would be protected. Jo thanked her and quickly hung up. 

Jo had always kept tabs on Paul just in case. Which was good because she knew that he was in Seattle giving a talk at the University of Washington. The past few days, she had felt trapped in the loft because of it, as she feared he would see her when she was out and about or at the hospital, but now she could divorce him before the weekend was over and Alex would never know. Then she could say yes and marry Alex. They would be happy and Alex would never know. Paul would never ruin his life because of her. 

Jo took a deep breath as she looked down at her phone. She was drunk enough to think that this was a good idea and before she knew what she was doing, she had dialed Paul's number. But, of course, he didn't pick up, Paul didn't pick up any strange numbers. Hearing his voicemail was enough to send shivers down her spine, but the liquid courage had given her enough strength to speak and leave him a message. 

“Paul, it's me, it's Brooke. I want a divorce. I'm leaving you for good. I found another man and he's wonderful. He's better than you ever were and I want to marry him. So I want a divorce. I'm in Seattle. I work at Grey-Sloan Memorial and I live here. I live at 4196 Cale St. I know you're giving some stupid talk at U-Dub, and I’m sending you the divorce papers, and you are going to sign them. Because you ruined my life enough and you don't get to ruin it any more.”

Jo hung up and she smiled. It was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders and she felt free, freer than when she was driving away from him all those years ago. Finally, she felt truly free. 

Then Jo looked around the empty loft. Alex wasn't there, he had left, and she was all alone. Jo sighed, taking another swig of the bottle. Then she texted Stephanie to meet her at Emerald City Bar. Jo needed her friend and there was no way she could spend the rest of this day sober. 

……………………………………………………………………

“Hey, what are we drinking about?” Stephanie asked, appearing at the bar and sitting next to Jo.

“Alex is gone,” Jo said as she leaned against the bar. She was genuinely drunk now and was suddenly second guessing everything that she had done. “I had the love of my life, and I just, pssh, pushed him away, and now he's gone. And I’m doing it, I’m finally doing it, but I already lost Alex, he's gone.”

“Okay, this again,” Stephanie said as she took a swig of the beer the bartender gave her. “Let's not overstate this. He's just living at Meredith's.”

“Steph, you didn't see his face. He’s gone,” Jo said, looking over Stephanie and seeing her face, Jo suddenly realized what she had said. “Oh, God, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. He's not gone-gone. Kyle is gone-gone.”

“Making it worse,” Stephanie said as Jo leaned over to put her arm around Stephanie and lean her hand on her shoulder.

Stephanie shook her off and Jo decided to shut up before more words fell out of her mouth. In her endeavor to divorce Paul, it was like all her walls had finally come down. The truth slipped from her tongue like a bar of soap between her fingers. 

“He just kept asking me to marry him again and again,” Jo said as she picked at the peanut shells on the bar and tried to throw them into the bowl. “I just couldn't say nothing anymore, you know, so I just, I just said no.” 

“You could've said yes,” Stephanie said, taking a sip of her drink and shaking her head as if it was as easy as that.

“I should go home. I need to go home,” Jo said, reaching for the bag next to her and getting out. 

“What? No, you cannot drive home,” Stephanie said, getting up and chasing after her. She tried to grab the bag as Jo turned away from her.

“No, stupid, I'm gonna call. I'm looking for my phone to call a goober,” Jo said, looking through the bag and trying to find her phone. “I can't marry him. I want to, but I can't marry anyone.”

“Why's that?” Stephanie asked in her rude and sarcastic voice what made Jo realize what she had said.

“Just 'cause, none of your business,” Jo yelled, looking back at her.

“Okay,” Stephanie said, holding up her hands and leaning back.

“God, where is my. Oh, my God!” Jo paused, and she looked down at the strange purse in her hands. “This isn't even my purse.”

Stephanie rolled her eyes and took the purse from Jo's hands, replacing it with Jo's own bag. “Here, just wait, and I'll call us a cab and you can tell me all about why you can't marry Karev.”

“I can't marry him because I'm already married,” Jo said, the words slipping off her tongue. She guessed she was done hiding the truth.

……………………………………………………………………

“Okay, you can't just drop a bomb on me like that and then not say anything else,” Stephanie said as they walked into the loft, and Jo stumbled over to the couch before she caught Jo around her waist and led her over to the bed. “Okay, come on, time for bed.”

Stephanie left her on the bed and went to grab a cup of water. This was the last thing she wanted it to be doing, but Jo was her best friend, and they were both going through it right now. Cleary Jo had some deep dark secrets and Stephanie would be lying if she said she wasn’t immensely curious about it.

“I was living in my car. Did you know that I lived in my car?” Jo said, stumbling over, reaching out to put her hand on the table. It seemed Stephanie couldn't leave her for a second and she reached out to grab Jo again. 

“Yes, I know all about your street kid days,” Stephanie said, trying to grab ahold of her, but Jo pushed her away, and she was surprisingly strong for a drunk girl.

“And then I met him, and I wasn't living in my car anymore. Everybody loved him, I did,” Jo said, undoing the button to her jeans and pulling them down her legs.

“What are you doing?” Stephanie said, putting her hands on her waist and glaring at Jo. Everybody always joked about how drunk people acted like toddlers and Jo was certainly acting like a toddler right now. 

“I'm gonna go, I'm gonna go to bed,” Jo said as she stumbled over to the bed before apparently changing her mind and leaning against the post. “He never wanted anyone to stop loving him.”

Stephanie paused and sat down on the bench at the end of the bed, watching Jo for a moment. Jo had never mentioned anything about past boyfriends, much less a husband. She watched as the tears collected in Jo's eyes as she started to sob and she could sense why Jo had never mentioned him before.

“So if I, I bought the wrong something he would, he would hit me in my face or my stomach. Nobody knew that but me. So, so I ran. I had to make sure he would never find me.”

“And if you try to divorce him,” Stephanie trailed off, still trying to take in the news of Jo's abusive husband.

“I'm trying to divorce him, but he’ll never sign the papers, I'll never be free of him,” Jo said, putting both of her hands on Stephanie's shoulders and staring into her eyes. 

“Can’t you get a restraining order or something?” Stephanie asked, watching Jo pull away from her. “Does Alex know about any of this?” 

“No, no, Alex would try and protect me, but he can't. I have to do this on my own. He doesn't even know my real name,” Jo said as she stumbled over to the bed.

“You should tell him, he'll understand. Alex is a really good guy. Okay, so we're going to get naked now,” Stephanie sighed as Jo unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall to the floor. “Just keep your panties on, okay.”

Jo didn't say anything else as Stephanie grabbed onto her waist and pulled her over to the bed. They both ended up stumbling and falling on the bed together and Jo laughed as if it was the funniest thing in the world. Stephanie rolled her eyes and got up to grab the covers. As she looked up, Alex was standing in front of her in a rain soaked suit. 

“What's so funny? Alex asked as he smiled and came around to sit next to Jo on the bed.

“We fell,” Jo laughed, closing her eyes and pulling the covers over her head, still giggling from underneath them.

Alex looked up at her with a raised eyebrow and Stephanie just shrugged. “She's drunk off her ass.”

Alex nodded and put his hand over Jo's back, rubbing up and down as her giggles ended and she seemed to settle in. Stephanie got up and grabbed Jo's shirt from the floor before grabbing her jeans, tossing them both in the hamper.

“You came back,” Stephanie said, looking back at Alex.

“Yeah, well, Jo’s earned the benefit of the doubt, and whatever reason she has for not marrying me, I love her too much to let her go.”

Stephanie nodded, she didn't want to spill Jo’s secret, especially now that Alex was back, but she didn't want him to leave Jo again. She saw how messed up Jo was all night and Alex wasn't even dead. Stephanie loved her friend enough not to want to put her through that again. 

“She has a good reason for not marrying you. I won't tell you what it is, that's her job, but it's a good reason, and she’s trying to make it right,” Stephanie said as she folded her hands together.

“Thank you,” Alex said, nodding at her before he looked back at Jo and leaned down to kiss a little bit of her head that was still peeking out from under the covers. 

Stephanie wobbled as she took another step towards the door, realizing how drunk she was now that she didn't have Jo’s drunkenness to compare her sobriety to. 

“Do you want to crash here?” Alex offered, taking off his wet jacket and tie. “I'm going to hop in the shower, but I'll take the couch if you want to take the bed.”

“Sure,” Stephanie said, dropping her purse and kicking off her shoes.

She had slept over at the loft enough times with Jo that this was normal. They would have a girl's night and fall asleep on the bed, and Alex would come in and sleep on the couch. In the morning, he’d make them a hangover cure and waffles and Stephanie loved those waffles. Alex hung up his wet suit and went to take a shower and Stephanie crawled into bed. Jo would still giggle occasionally, but eventually, they both fell asleep.

……………………………………………………………………

Jo woke up to the sound of someone banging on the door to the loft. She rolled over to lay on her back and saw Stephanie sleeping soundly beside her. Her best friend had always slept like a log and she would sleep through her alarm if she was tired enough. Jo got up before she went to the hamper and pulled on her shirt. 

“Alright, Alex I’m coming,” Jo said as the banging continued, despite how late it was she figured Alex had forgotten something. She unlocked the door and pulled it open, but Alex wasn't standing on the other side. 

“Hello, Brooke.”

[reiven2017]

Delicate steel.

Summary:

Rachel wanted to go home. She just wanted to get home. The only thing that held her back were the two huge wolves outside the door, the iron lock, and the fucking fate that had clearly decided to laugh at her. As it was, everything was fine...Oh, right! She's also getting married soon. But I have no idea for whom yet.

Notes:

In general...I decided to finally finish this chapter, because what I published earlier was just a draft and it happened that I deleted the work. Ahem, ahem.

Chapter 1: 1

Chapter Text"I don't know, damn it," Damian snarled back, his lips pinched into a thin line. His patience was running dangerously red, and his annoying family never stopped asking him questions, and Damian didn't know how close he was to killing each of them. "What do you mean, you don't know, Damian?" Your eighteenth birthday is coming soon! "I'm aware of that. Damian said dryly, turning to the window and trying to ignore the circle of people gathered around him. Sometimes, in his head, he would quietly start hating them all. The boy heard his sister snort at his answer, and before she could open her mouth to say something even more irritating and irritate him, his father intervened. "Damian." Bruce called coldly — " Stephanie's right. The day of the Blood Moon is approaching, and whether you want it or not, you must find a mate. It's a tradition." — Steph smirked like the Cheshire cat. "Come on, Dad. Maybe our little Alpha likes to go to "girls". " - Damian gritted his teeth and said nothing at Jason's snide remark, hoping that if he continues to ignore them, then maybe everything will be fine?The alpha genes were already boiling in him, the wolf was growling in frustration, and Damian was ready to howl in helplessness. He hated family advice, but when it came to his marriage and finding a true mate, it didn't seem so bad to hang himself and rot in a barn somewhere. Maybe now from the outside he looked like a "little capricious Alpha" with his behavior and an offended frown, but if such a strategy would bring him the desired silence, Damian was ready to play along. Despite the fact that he was the future Alpha of the pack, the new leader, and should have been able to solve problems diplomatically, or be able to kick ass, now he would have been happy to be somewhere in the mountains. Or on another planet. He could have left at any moment, ignoring the drama of Stef and the grinning Jason, if not for the glaring eyes of his father and mother. Damian knew he was being stupid. But he did not know the answer to the question that had been nagging at him for about a year. And every day it annoyed him more and more.From the very first day of his birth, Damian was different from the other wolves. Even in the cradle, he was different. The guy turned early to become a wolf, too early for any measurements, and after the Alpha blood in him awoke with extraordinary speed and as it turned out, he is the new Alpha, which further complicated the situation since he was the youngest son and theoretically could not inherit the Alpha genes. But no, it did happen. Everyone expected that his older brother Richard, kind, cheerful and resourceful, able to talk or at least tolerate people, and most importantly already having a couple, would take the place of the leader and everyone would be happy to the point of screeching bones. How wrong they all were, and how no one expected the Alpha genes to wake up in their youngest son, the rude, silent, and insufferable Damian, known as the walking mess and without a true mate at 17. Many people only laughed when they heard that the Alpha Force appeared in the younger heirs, but when they met with Damian, not a single question remained. He was young, but the Alpha genes had awakened in him with the strength and power of a mature wolf, which gave him even more advantages in the piggy bank of oddities. His relatives got married almost from the first day of birth, his sister was already engaged, his friends were already engaged and even some children in the sandbox already wore special marks saying that they have a couple! And Damian... Damian was broken. Broken almost from the very first day of life. The day of his coming of age was approaching, and the council and the entire pack were now on edge, watching his every move and not losing the chance to slip him a wolf at every opportunity in the hope of finding the one that made him even more exasperated. During this week, he had seen so many women's faces that they were all mixed up in one mess, and he didn't even remember their names. His position in the

pack is already pretty shaky, and if he doesn't find a mate before his birthday, Damian may not be the leader. < i>Worst of all, he won't last long without a pair. "Well, look at him! He's not even listening to us!" — Stephanie fell silent again, seeking support from her father. Of course, her position doesn't weigh in the balance, and the whole pack doesn't sit on her neck and fall asleep with eternal questions that he doesn't know the answers to. Bruce sighed heavily, casting a pleading glance at his wife. He knew that it wasn't easy for his son to come to terms with his new Alpha status and his new status in the pack. Despite all the responsibilities Damian had to deal with, he was pretty good at it, but the question of his true mate was always going to be a hell of a lot harder. Talia gave him a quiet smile, putting her hand on his shoulder. "But if brother can't find a mate on his own, then we have to help him! Damian chuckled softly. If only it were that simple, but only the Gods themselves could help him. - "Dad! I know who is perfect for the role of the Moon! Christy! She is younger than my brother, but she is a beautiful and strong wolf. Christy will fit perfectly into our family! " - Steph screamed again to her father. But then Damian's patience reached the end, driving the Alpha genes in his blood, and his wolf growled inwardly at his sister. Damian didn't like that part of himself, but he was grateful for the Alpha Force now, as Stephanie immediately fell silent. "That's enough," he said, as his sister jerked behind her father, hiding her eyes in shame. "Just because she's your friend doesn't mean she's my mate, Steph. His voice, menacing and guttural, turning into a growl, echoed off the walls of the mansion, causing Steph to shudder slightly and hunch over, hiding behind her father. His emerald eyes, a little silvery, swept around the room, and when they met his mother's distressed gaze and his father's frown, he frowned sternly. Maybe tomorrow he will regret his lack of restraint, but right now the only thing he wants is to get as far away from them as possible, so as not to see himself as a leper.***Perhaps if the town of Date, in northern Switzerland, could be described in three sentences Raven would have said " Forest. A large forest. The devils of the big forest. " and it would be clear to everyone what kind of place this is. It wasn't that she was against nature, but she had lived most of her life in gray and gloomy New York, so the forest was her first shock when she moved. Her mother recently remarried after a failed marriage with Raven's father and an accident with her sister, and now they are all together, the whole friendly family decided to change their place of residence. As if they don't have enough problems. Rachel didn't listen much to her mother's speech in the front seat, plugging her ears with headphones, knowing that she was talking more for her stepfather. Ben wasn't a bad person. He joked stupidly, smiled affably and believed in a happy life, dreaming, according to him, of a large family. He didn't touch Rachel, and he didn't bother her with father-daughter chatter, so he was the best option for her and her mother, Angela. To be honest, he never bothered Rachel at all.When Ben expressed a desire to move, to give in to a quiet life, Rae was not so against it. She didn't have any friends in New York, or anywhere else, so she was neutral about the idea of moving. So she ended up in Switzerland, in the back of an elderly pickup truck, in the middle of the woods and 7 miles from the city of Data. "Rachel!" — through the wall of music, the girl heard her mother's displeased voice and quietly rolled her eyes. - "Yes? Rachel replied tonelessly, still wearing her headphones, and turned to the window. She stiffened quietly. Maybe this way they'll know she's not in the mood to talk. "Could you please put the music down, young lady? I want to talk to you. "- "Well, of course to talk, and I thought we were going to drive the ball." barely restraining the sarcastic remark that was about to fly off

her tongue, Rachel still put the headphones in her bag and raised an eyebrow at Angela questioningly. "So? — " "There's a new school waiting for you, Rachel. New acquaintances". Angela's words flowed smoothly, and her sweet smile suggested doubts, and Rachel inwardly guessed that this conversation had been planned in advance. The girl chuckled to herself. "Ben and I are well aware of your difficulties in communication and all that concerns friendship, and we are immensely grateful to you for so easily agreeing to move, but if you have a problem again, like last time..." Rachel's eyes dimmed. Her heart stopped for a moment, silent for a second, and her nails dug painfully into the soft skin of her palm. The world seemed to stop, and my lungs were on fire. So that's what it was all about. Her lips parted in a venomous grin, and Rachel gritted her teeth. Rey saw a small flicker of pain cross Angela's face, her lips pressed into a thin line, and her face lost any hint of a smile, and with a curt nod to Rachel, the woman turned away. Rey exhaled heavily, holding her breath. She leaned back in her seat, pressing herself as close to the window as she could and crouching in a corner of the darkness, only now feeling the pain in her arms. She slowly opened her hand, coldly watching the tiny drops of blood gather on the skin that had been severely pierced by her own hand, and immediately closed her hands. She didn't have the energy to look at it again, and the only thing that distracted her was the huge sign with the big black letters "Date. A place where people become one with nature.»

[shaekingshitup]

MIRACLES HAPPEN

DAY ONE: TANGERINE

A/N: Y’ALL! I WAS DUPED! @teakturn puts out a 25 Days of Christmas every year and my dumbass said I would do it too. But I decided to add a little diversity to the culture and we’re doing a Chrismukkah adventure this year on this blog! This is picking up after this request that I got earlier this year. None of this shit is proofread because I am literally just writing by the seat of my pants so read at your own discretion. I will probably end up rewriting this entire mini series in the future. But enjoy it now. If you wanna be tagged, lmk! Also, I know that in In Sight I said there was a cure for COVID. Swap that out for a vaccine y’all. Viruses can’t be cured. 

Word Count: 2300 

DAY ONE: TANGERINE

December 18, 2022

“Baby you ready?!” Tre called into the house as reached into the basket on his way to the garage. He came up empty handed for the keys to his Lexus. Opening the door to the garage, he saw Sol sitting in the passenger seat of the running car. 

Tre walked over to his baby as Sol smirked at him. 

“You late again,” she said. 

“I’m never late,” Tre said opening the door and climbing in,  “You just early as always,” he shot back as he put the car in reverse. Sol playfully rolled her eyes. After two years of being together, this was always their running joke. The first time they’d met, she’d been pacing back and forth awaiting his arrival. Even after finding their own groove, she still found herself being the one waiting for him- but, he always made it worth it so it was hard for her to complain.

Tre pulled out of the driveway and clicked the remote to shut the door. Out of instinct, his hand went to Sol’s thigh when he put it in drive. “Did you grab my yarmulke?” Tre asked as he threw her a glance. 

“Please don’t insult me. This ain’t my first feast Nemo.” the indignant manner which she spoke had her and Tre struggling to keep in their bouts of laughter. “Yes, baby. They’re in the backseat.” 

“Good. Good. What’s the other name for them again?” Tre asked as he merged onto the nearly empty highway. A five a.m call time could be a blessing and a curse. 

“Kippah” is the Hebrew word for the male cap and “kippot” is the Hebrew word for the female cap.” Sol answered on autopilot as she mused on their situation. She was still taken aback that they’d been contacted by Black Juice to begin with. She’d been following them ever since they’d done that feature with Drake talking about how his own Jewish faith influenced his career path. Although she wasn’t as active in her Jewish faith as she’d wished she’d been in recent years it was still a huge victory to be acknowledged by the leading Black Jewish media network. Okay so maybe they were the only Black Jewish media network. But that definitely meant they were in the lead! She wasn’t stupid to think that this kind of opportunity would have come without Trevante in her life. But, she wasn’t gonna knock it either. 

This 8 Days of Miracles was the perfect task she needed as she figured out what the next step was for her career. Now that she’d finally finished her academic portion of her career she wasn’t sure how to proceed. So throwing herself into this project and hosting both her family and Tre’s for the holidays was the best distraction she could ask for. This time always gave her hope and made her realize that any kind of bullshit she’d put up with wasn’t in vain. It was her annual reset. New Year’s be damned. It also made her feel closer to her father and there wasn’t anyone in this world she’d loved more. At least that’s what she’d thought. She felt pressure on her thigh from the number one contender for her heart as Tre gave her a slight squeeze. 

“What’s on ya mind Sunshine?” Sol looked down at his hand and couldn’t help but cheese. She still beamed every time he called her by that nickname. 

“I was thinking about my dad and how proud he’d be to see me reppin his faith,” Sol said absentmindedly touching her necklace. Tre listened attentively as he grazed his thumb against her thigh in a gentle motion. “ I mean, I don’t know if he could have known that all of the years he instilled in us the value of miracles when we were children we’d still be celebrating Hanukkah after he was gone.” 

“I’m sure he didn’t know.” Tre started out slowly. He honestly wasn’t even sure if she’d finished her thoughts, “But, he probably hoped you would.” The phone rang as they turned off the street and into the lot. “STEPH 👷🏿‍♀️💪🏿” flashed across the Caller ID on his dashboard. Tre clicked the answer button on his steering wheel as Sol handed him his badge to show to Nico, the Security Attendant. 

“We’re at Security Steph,” Tre answered as he nodded at Nico. 

“Okay good. I just wanted to make sure we were starting the day off on time.” Tre and Sol shared a glance. 

“Woman don’t start with me. Call time is 5 and it’s 4:39. We don’t play that late shit over here and you know it.

“Well,  I also grabbed your favorite donuts from Craft Services so no one else would steal them and I wanted to know how long I had to hoard them for your ungrateful self. I can put them back if you’d like sir,” 

“Steph. You can ignore Tre.” Sol chimed in. “We appreciate you and will be walking in the door in exactly 2 minutes. Tre is parking as we speak. We’ll see you soon.”

“Tre, you lucky you have her. Keep her if you want to keep the best managent in town. Bye y’all!!” Steph sang as she hung up. Sol let out a cackle because Steph refused to be referred as anything other than a managent as Tre stood there dumbfounded at how he was being left out to dry. But he knew better than to go against two black women before he’d even finished his morning coffee. He just hopped out the whip and opened Sol’s door so she could do the same. 

Once they’d gotten their morsels of food, gone through hair and makeup and snapped a few photos for Black Juice and their own social media accounts, they were back on the road headed deeper into LA. They had a cameraman in the backseat filming their every move, one car guided them to their location and another followed them as they maneuvered through the cars that were poppin up for their morning commutes. Sol was on her IG live and answering any questions that popped up about where they were headed and her Hanukkah festivities. She watched as the number quickly jumped from 5,000 viewers to 13,000 and counting. She wasn’t sure what this many people were doing up at this hour but she wasn’t complaining. Tre’s mama was of course one of them. He was a mama’s boy through and through and she was always there to support him at any opportunity she could. Sol made sure to greet her specifically. Tre bopped his head to some Jill Scott- being careful not to let his yarmulke fall. Sol sipped some hot cocoa from her thermos and sang off key with him. As soon as they turned on a residential street, she felt awash in a new warmth that the hot chocolate couldn’t touch. She shook Tre’s arm enthusiastically. 

“It’s time!!” she beamed, “Are you ready?!” Tre chuckled at her immediate change in attitude. The car in front was already parked and the camera crew was out on the sidewalk. 

“Yes Sol. I’m ready to spread some holiday cheer. Let’s go make somebody’s day he said. Before Tre could even put the car in park, she was reaching for the handle” 

“AHT AHT AHT” Tre barked out loud causing the cameraman man in the backseat to jump,“ Tre was already exiting the driver’s side and pointed his finger at her as he crossed in front of the car “Don’t even try it.” Sol rolled her eyes and pouted as she waited the few seconds for him to open her door. 

“Thanks Tre,” she stuck out her tongue. She was like a kid in a candy store and was ready to full out sprint to the front door. The IG live comments were flying. 

Okay Daddy Tre! I need a mans to talk to me like that. 🥵🥵

Did this man just bark at her? 🐶

Loook so long as he handles this backdoor he can open any other door that he pleases sis!

Y’all females is wylin as usual. 

Sol glanced at them. “Imma need y’all to stay out of grown folks’ business and just enjoy this holiday work we are puttin in okay” She handed her phone to another crew member and grabbed Tre’s hand to drag him to the front door. 

She pushed the button for the doorbell but no sound rang out. Tre gave three succinct raps on the door and heard someone rushing down the stairs. The door was flung open by a woman in black slacks and a blinding blue polo emblazoned with a nametag that ironically labeled this young woman as “Tangerine”. She couldn’t be more than 25 years old and the toddler saddled on her hip only added to her youthful appearance. 

“Hi Tangerine,” Tre began, “My name’s Trevante and this is Sol,” he gestured to Sol at his side. 

“Hi?” Tangerine answered confused at this couple and the cameras that followed them. 

“We’re here today with Black Juice, a local Black organization that highlights the experience of the Black Jewish community and we’re doing 8 Days of Miracles,” 

“Okay..” Tangerine said not sounding any less confused. “ I’m not Jewish.”  Sol took over as she could tell that Tre’s efforts weren’t getting them anywhere.

“We’re here because your friend Kira sent in a letter telling us about  how great of a mother you are. She said that you’ve been working two jobs here to support you and your daughter.” At this, Sol smiled at the baby, “She told us that the second job you have is for daycare expenses alone.  We wanted to come out here today and let you know that we see what you do and how hard you go to make sure you give your daughter the best. So, we wanted to help you out and give you this. “ Tre gave her the envelope he had in his hand. It read “Day 1: Tangerine”

Tangerine took the envelope as Tre explained. “We’ve paid for your daughter’s child care for the next two years so you can give yourself a break.” She opened the envelope to see the receipt from Tiny Tots Kindercare and didn’t even know what to do. 

“I don’t know what to say.” She paused for a moment as what this truly meant registered in her mind. “I can quit this job and actually spend more time with my baby and focus on my candles.” 

“Your candles?” Sol asked. 

“Yeah. I make candles by hand. I took a few classes and have played with a few scents. Some friends have asked me to make them some and I’ve been waitin to be a little more secure with my money before I start at it.” she answered exhaling deeply. 

“Do you have any candles right now?” Tre asked peeking a little further in her apartment. Sol slapped his arm. 

“Could you be any nosier?” she chastised with love. 

“Yeah I have some. Do you mind holding Layla?” she asked but she practically threw the child into Sol’s arms as she ran to grab her stash of candles. Sol put on her sweetest voice and spoke to Layla about how old she was and if she liked her friends at daycare. When her mom came back Sol could see the sheer joy that she had when showing off her handiwork. 

Tangerine went through all six of her candles and their various scents with them and by the end Tre had bought each one. She was floored and couldn’t do anything but cry at the way her morning was turning around. It wasn’t even 7:30 and she’d already gotten 2 years of childcare, a reason to quit her grocery store job and someone who actually wanted to buy her candles. 

Before they left, Tre made her promise to hit him up when her site and IG were live so he could get more candles and share it with all of his friends. Sol returned Layla to her mother saying her goodbyes and grabbed Tre’s hand to head back to car. She leaned on his shoulder and he could see the contentment in her eyes. Sol almost forgot her phone before a crewmember handed it back. 

She came back to the IG Live trying not to get too emotional. “Look at that y’all! Day one of Hanukkah is off to a start and we’ve already proved that miracles happen! Y’all better stay tuned in over the next week so you can see who we pop in on next. You never know if it could be you! Thanks to Black Juice for giving us this opportunity to turn someone’s ordinary day into something smile about. Y’all betta check them out so you can see the full footage of what we’ve got goin on! Bye y’all!

“Bye y’all!” Tre called out. They answered a few more questions with Black Juice, said their goodbyes and climbed back into their car. 

“Can we go back to bed now?” Tre asked as he pulled back onto the main road and his hand founds Sol’s thigh again. Sol laughed. 

“I mean if that’s what you prefer we can. I had some other things in mind.” she suggested. 

Tre raised his eyebrow. “I swear you see one baby and you always go 0 to 100”

“Look, I just believe in practicing all aspects of having a child! Even the making part.” 

Tre threw his head back laughing. “I’m wit it babygirl”

DING! 

“That’s me” Sol said. She looked at her phone screen. A text from “Mama Rhodes” popped up.  She’d sent some Pinterest looking bible verse again. 

This was the third one this week. It dampened her mood immediately and caused her to groan. The text read: 

Seeing you with that little girl made me so happy for the good Christian grandbabies that you and Tre will be blessing me with in the future. I thank Jesus for the miracle of you and my baby everyday XO. 

“Tre, I got another one from your mom. When are you gonna talk to her?” 

Tre sighed. “I promise. I’ll talk to her soon and it will definitely be before your Chrismukkah Extravaganza. Don’t sweat it baby.” 

Sol did her best not to think about how pushy his mother was being about this raising Christan grandbabies nonsense ever since they announced they’d be partnering with Black Juice. All she could do is trust Tre and do what she was best at: wait. 

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

@ghostfacekill-monger @thadelightfulone

[danny-chase]

Hello, are there any Cassandra Cain fans/stans that could help me out with her characterization? I’ve just started to get into writing fanfiction (I haven’t posted any, and am working towards getting more confident with writing the characters in general so hopefully I’ll post some someday) and I haven’t been in the fandom long. Cass is a confusing character for me to write, mostly because I feel like she’s written differently in everything she’s in. And her personality absolutely got erased and overhauled in the New52. I’ve read some of her Batgirl run (it was awhile ago ngl) and I read the storyline where she was introduced in the New52 and the Rise and the Fall of the Batmen (I think that’s the arc she’s involved in with Detective Comics). Idk, more under cut.

My goal in writing Cass is to make her seem like a real person and I’m drawing more on pre-New52 than post-New52. I feel like she used to have so much more to her than just being like a perfect person and the sweetest person in general. Not that she can’t be sweet (I love cinnamon bun Cass too), but she used to have much more grit to her personality it seems like. I’m blending the two personalities, and I’d really like to focus on her love for dance, it’s one of the changes I really liked, and of course her connections to her siblings because I love sibling dynamics. Currently I’m working on a fic where she ends up dancing with each of her siblings. I like the idea of writing her as a bit snarky or sassy (the kind of person that just stares at you with the “really” expression when you do something dumb), more introverted, a bit of a little shit, self deprecating, but genuinely kind hearted, driven, and a perfectionist. I also don’t want to write her as being a magic character that instantly knows what’s wrong with a character. Yeah, she can read body language, but her family is good at hiding things, they’ve been trained recognizing body language and I’m guessing some of them have worked to have good control over their own. My interpretation is she can tell what people are feeling but not why, and how they’re going to move. I’ve written a little bit of the fic so far (um please don’t feel obligated to read through it, any comments on how you think Cass should be written is helpful) so I’ll post it below. Thanks for reading this far if you made it XD.

I don’t have a title for this lmao but the fic starts here:

“Hey.” Dick gently placed a hand on her shoulder as he hopped down from his spot on the water tower. “You know who’s my most favorite, strongest, most beautiful, spectacular-”

Cass groaned; he was making the face. He was wearing his Nightwing mask, but as she turned to look, she could already tell he was making the face. Dick ignored her groans and continued “-most perfect, amazing, gorgeous, sweetest, nicest, kindhearted, thoughtful-”

Cass pulled away; she would not be doing what he asked. Nope. The last time she heard Dick talking like this, Barbara ended up agreeing to dog sit for Titus. The dog chewed everything in the clocktower; they were still finding ripped up socks in various locations. “He’s so well behaved” he said. “It won’t be for that long” he said. “You’re the best thank you so, so much” he said. On the bright side, Dick had bought her new ballet shoes to replace the ones Titus tore through. But they’d taken weeks to break in and-oh he was still talking.

“-smartest, wisest, funniest, loveliest, badass, awesomest, funnest-” Cass placed her hands on her hips and stood up to meet him. The stakeout had been going fine on her own, at this rate she probably didn’t need his backup anyways, so if this was something stupid, she could always tell him to leave. She gave him her best “bat-glare” as he continued to mumble on compliments. “fantastic, reliable, trustworthy-” his voice grew smaller as she continued glaring. He cleared his throat “sister of all time?” He finished.

Cass sighed and leaned back against the tower’s support. “What do you want?” Dick gave her a weak smile, embarrassment radiated off him. That couldn’t be good.

“Look, I’ll cut to the chase.” Thank heavens for that. “But like, just know I love you so much.” Cass wished she could stick her tongue out, maybe the domino mask was the way to go. She settled for lightly shoving his shoulder. He grinned at her, doing his best to seem casual, but slight tension in his neck gave away his discomfort. Dick was always hard for her to read, he was a performer from birth, and had excellent control of his posture and facial expressions. He gave himself away in movement, in the lack thereof. He could paint the perfect mask, but it slipped slightly when he moved. He was nervous, anxious, exasperated, and worried. Cass was intrigued.

“What is it?” She said, more gently than before, turning back to watch her mark. She could hear Dick let out a deep breath.

“It’s Da-Robin. He got invited to a formal.” Cass turned back and cocked her head. “Don’t give me that look, you know how he is.” He said, shifting his weight. “It’s a school event, so they’ve been learning ballroom dance in gym. But I got a call the other day from the gym teacher saying he’s not participating.”

“Why should he?” Cass asked. “You shouldn’t force people to do things they don’t want to do.” Living with the family long enough had taught her that. If the kid didn’t want to dance, he shouldn’t have to.

“Yeah, I know.” Dick replied a bit flatly. He moved to crouch where she had been sitting and focused on the building across the street. “But I don’t know if he doesn’t want to, or if he’s just embarrassed.” Cass thought for a moment. “I don’t suppose he grew up with many dance lessons.” He added a bit apologetically. She shook her head.

“Have you talked to him?” She asked. Dick sighed.

“I tried. But he kept switching topics and when I pressed it, he locked himself in his room. Which is why I’m concerned.” Cass hummed in affirmation. It made sense.

“Why haven’t you tried teaching him?” Dick wasn’t a bad dancer, and he’d always performed quite well at the galas.

He looked back at her sheepishly. “I gave it a go last time I was at the manor. But he stormed off before we could get anything done. Something about me being an embarrassment to the family.”

Cass rolled her eyes under the cowl. “What did you do?”

“I just wanted to do some jazzercising to warm up, what’s wrong with that?” Dick spluttered in response. Cass lightly smacked the back of his head. “So anyways, I lost my chance at it. I can’t even play music without him running away.” He continued, ducking away as she tried to tap him again. “Besides, you’re probably a better height to practice with for him.” She scoffed in response.

“When’s the gala?” She asked. It slipped out without her permission. She wasn’t getting involved. The kid could figure it out on his own. Couldn’t he?

“It’s next weekend.” He replied and sighed. “I don’t want him to miss it. He never does stuff that’s age appropriate.” Oh, no. Not that card. Cass would not be involved, she had work to do. She stepped back to lean against the tower again and bit her lip. “And some girl in his class asked him to go. Her name’s Maps and she’s a really good influence on him.” She crossed her arms tighter. Damian was rude to her. He called her Cain. Not. Getting. Involved. “She’s so energetic, it helps him loosen up-” Damnit.

“Fine.” Dick whipped around to look at her, not bothering to hide his disbelief. She squirmed internally. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about the kid. It was just easier to spend time on her own. The kid was better off without her influence anyways.

“Are you sure, I could ask Steph or I don’t know-” He continued.

She cut him off. “I’ll do it. I don’t mind.” The others wouldn’t work. Dick knew that going into the conversation. They were too…loud in their judgement. Steph would laugh at the wrong time, Tim would say the wrong thing, Jason didn’t have the patience for the kid’s temper, and Duke would be a safe bet, but was away on Outsider business for the next two weeks.

Dick practically melted in relief. “Thank you so-”

“You owe me, big brother.” Cass reminded.

“Anything you want, little sister.” He promised. “Are hugs acceptable as a down payment? I could kiss you right now.”

“Eww.” Cass made a face under the mask but strode forward as he opened his arms and stood for a hug. He eagerly wrapped her in a bear hug. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re winning sister of the year award.” He said as he released her.

“You’re making me cookies.” She retorted. Dick grimaced.

“Can I buy them?” He asked hesitantly. She shook her head.

“Homemade, with love. And I’m watching.” She added, smirking under the mask. Dick sunk back down into position.

“I’ll do my best.” He promised. Cass snickered. The last time Dick tried making cookies, he apparently caught his oven mitts on fire. There was still a bit of cookie dough on the ceiling he hadn’t noticed yet.

A flash of movement jolted her back into reality, their mark was making his move. She shot her grapple, and Dick quickly followed suit. “I’ll text you the plan tomorrow.” He promised as they leapt into the night.

Thanks so much if you read this far, and please comment or send me feedback directly if you have the time and don’t mind. I’m sorry if you completely disagree with how I characterized her (or Dick/Damian for that matter) I’m mostly relying on Damian’s canon interactions with her and Dick’s half canon half fanon personality (I know they don’t get on great in the comics...but sibling dynamics) and the rest of this portion of the fic would focus on Damian earning more respect for her (and learning to call her Cass - not Cain).

[jasonspetertodds]

the skeleton with a scythe

warnings: swearing, mentions of character death

Jason glanced around the basement that they were in, trying not to suffocate at the sheer amount of velvet that was covering the walls. There were fuchsia colored scones on the walls that illuminated the large neon purple light on the back wall. He squinted, not being able to make out the name, but he didn't supposed that mattered. He rolled his eyes at Steph who was merely grinning up at him, her hair had been pulled back into two small ponytails at the crown of her head with the rest being down. It gave her the illusion of having even more volume then she normally did with her curly blonde hair.

She was dressed in her trademark color, but this time it was a soft lavender instead of the royal purple of her uniform. She had talked to him endlessly on the way there about how she had found her shoes, which were vintage white leather platforms, at the thrift store Jason had recommended. Trying to distract him from the fact that she was leading him to seedy basement in the heart of the Alley. A basement that housed a self proclaimed 'psychic'. Jason knew realistically that soothsayers, at least in some part, existed. He did exist in a world full of aliens and magic.

But Jason knew this was a scam and so did Steph. He hadn't been able to taste the tell tale nectar sweetness of magic when he stepped foot into the parlor. She had sourced the fact that it was just a fun thing to do at least once in his life and Jason had begrudgingly found himself staring into the depths of the weird vintage poster on the back wall. The pink neon light flickered in the corner behind him. He was, for the most part, down to try something at least once. And he didn't really see the harm in indulging Steph, especially when she was trying so hard to make him feel comfortable.

And Jason was only going to admit this in the privacy of his own mind, but it was actually kind of sweet.

And Jason wanted to maintain the best relationship he had in the family to the best of his ability, especially because it offered the unlimited possibility of tag teaming his siblings but also Bruce.

"So?" Steph asked, gently prodding his side with her elbow, pulling him away from being entranced by what looked to be a rat skull with a peacock feather coming out from the eye socket. It also had a top hat on and a little bow tie. Jason looked at her flatly and then shrugged. He was interested to see where the night went, with what story this psychic was going to spit back out to him. It was at the very least going to be entertaining.

"I don't know," He finally, eyes shifting around the room, "It should be fun, I guess."

He saw her roll her eyes and cross her arms over her chest. He shrugged again, unbothered. His eyes settled on a stack of crystals sitting on a bookshelf next to a book. Jason squinted, not wanting to step any closer to the center table with a deck of cards spread out over it, trying to read it. It looked like a copy of Daemonologie by King James of all fucking people. Jason almost huffed out a laugh. Almost.

"Can you at least pretend to be excited about the prospect of spending time with your favorite honorary sibling?" She grumbled, exasperated. Jason gave her an amused smile, but before he could respond he heard footsteps outside of the parlor.

There was the small ringing of the bell behind him and Jason immediately regretted his former words. He could taste the stinging sweetness in the lower part of his jaw, pooling just under his molars as he heard the soft approach of footsteps. Steph must've seen him stiffen, but he was so thankful that she didn't say anything about it, just threw him a questioning look.

Why was it that he always attracted magic users?

He sighed internally, steeling himself before he turned and saw a rather young looking witch smiling back at his companion. Steph had mentioned offhandedly that she had also dragged Cass and Tim to the same psychic a while ago with interesting results. She had bright lavender dyed hair that was piled up into two buns just behind the crown of her head and a blinding smile. She was also wearing a full length velvet dress, which seemed like an oddly formal attire choice, but maybe Jason was just being judgemental.

She gave Jason a strange look when she slide past him, heeled boots muffled on the strange astral Persian rugs beneath their feet and the skirt of her dress swishing gently as she wandered back behind her table. Had Jason forgotten to greet her?

"Hi," He said, hesitantly, trying to keep the uncertainty out of his voice as he watched her. He didn't know why he was on edge. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up and like he wanted to claw his skin off. Maybe he should talk to Zantana or Constantine about how magic was affecting him in his second life, because the woman sitting in front of him didn't seem like a threat. If she was, Jason already would've taken her down. Besides, maybe she wasn't a psychic in the way that she was able to tell that he was a dangerous, murderous vigilante. Maybe she was just a witch who misread his discomfort for skepticism. Was that too much to hope for? For Jason, it probably was.

He was wary, to say the least when he finally followed suit and sat down at the table to the right of Steph. She still was looking at him weird, but he figured he could explain himself later. He forced himself to relax, trying not to flex his jaw as it tingled like it did when he ate sour candies, covered with acetic acid. Piercing through the muscle and down to the bone. At least he didn't feel like throwing up... yet. He straightened his posture, trying to keep as close to a neutral expression on his face as he possibly good, trying to ignore the way his eyes glowed in the mirror of to the side of him.

Steph tapped him gently on the forearm, feather light, a question. Jason's face softened and he nodded, trying his best to convey that he was alright. He was fine. This was okay. He could deal with the unease worming around in his soul for the forty five minutes it took for this to happen. He watched out of the corner of his eyes as the blond relaxed, nodding once and offering a slight smile to the woman with the cards.

The woman before him offered him an unsure smile, before motioning to the deck in front of her before she began cheerily, "Welcome!"

Jason offed a nod of acknowledgement and Steph's smile morphed into a brilliant one, mischief alight in her eyes at the night's events. He was focused more on keeping his face as politely blank as he possibly could without it being mistaken for rudeness. He watched as she reached forward, ring clad fingers curling around the majority of the deck of tarot cards. At first he thought she was going to start shuffling them, but instead she knocked three times on the top of the stack. Maybe to cleanse it? Jason glanced back up at her face, uncertainty writhing around in the pit of his stomach.

"My name is Iris and I'm hoping to do a reading for you tonight...?" She trailed off, waiting for Jason to answer. Her voice was cheery but Jason was still hung up on the name. Iris... like the Greek goddess of rainbows and a messenger of the Gods? Because something was tugging at the back of his mind, like the Pit often did and Jason didn't believe in coincidences.

"Jason." He responded, watching as Steph relaxed further into her chair, shoulders slumping as she leaned further back, completely at ease. The witch nodded, handing the cards over to Jason. He looked at her confused for a second before he started to shuffle. Iris smiled, "It's better for you to shuffle, so the cards can have a better sense of your character."

Jason raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything. She continued, "I'm going to have you pull three cards first, since this is a general reading and then we can go from there, okay?"

He nodded, feeling how worn the corners of the cards were in his hands and how soft the glossy backing was, almost like the backing of a well loved paperback. He furrowed his brow, methodically sliding them around in his hands, trying to keep them from getting caught on each other before he finally decided that was enough. Three cards. He placed the deck on the edge of the table with great care and with a splayed palm he spread them out to the best of his ability. He sat back, suddenly noticing how sweaty his palms were before he took a deep breath, readying himself. The fact that a stupid throw away magic trick was having this much of an effect on him was ridiculous.

He eyeballed it, before tugging free a card in what he thought was the middle of the pile. He pulled it in front of Iris before he took two from each of the ends of the pile. He waited, licking his lips in anticipation when his mouth was suddenly dry, watching as she turned over his cards.

She painstakingly overturned the first card that he had pulled and he nearly choked back a laugh which turned into a choke when Steph elbowed him harshly in the ribs, glaring. There, looking tauntingly back up at him, was a skeleton draped in a black cloak upon a horse, holding a scythe with the neat little letters spelling out Death underneath the scene.

And oh god, was that fucking funny.

Iris seemed a little confused, as she tapped one purple talon against the card, before speaking, "Don't freak out about that card. Everyone always freaks out over him."

She flipped over the next two cards; One of a man looking over a cliff, a stick in hand with two others driven in the ground next to him. It read Three of Wands and one showing three swords piercing a bleeding heart. From Jason’s position the last one was upside down. Three seemed to be a big number for him tonight.

Jason remembered very suddenly three motifs in literature, when he was in high school slaving endlessly over research papers and book analyses, more often then not it was a Holy number. But it is the repetition of the cycle: birth, life, death. Of the passage of time, past; present; future. Jason again had to keep himself from snorting.

Omne trium perfectum.

Iris leaned over the cards, humming to herself as she flattened them, eyes glowing faintly under the scrutiny of the lights around her parlor. Steph looked curiously at her, “So? What does it mean?”

“Well,” She started, talon back to rapping gently against the glossy front of Death, drawing Jason’s attention, “Death is the first card you pulled. It means that you’re going to undergo change— growth if you will, but it’s specifically change followed by a period of renewal to yourself and your strength. That change leads to closure, an end to a chapter of your life.”

Jason was smirking now and he could see some of the humor return to Steph’s face at the acknowledgement. It was more than a little on the nose. He watched as Iris moved to the next two cards, flipping the wand cards around in her hand as she was thinking, "Three of wands points to foresight and a journey..." She trailed off, glancing at his other two cards, biting her lip in concentration and Jason felt his eyebrows raise further up to his hairline, "But in the context of your other two cards I think it's going to be more of a spiritual journey instead of a physical one. It also is going to lead to monumental growth. Whatever you decide, you'll have an immense amount of confidence in your plan."

"And the three of swords reversed also points to growth and recovery. You recently went through a rough time? Maybe some animosity between those in your family?"

Jason nodded. He wasn't going to offer up any more information that absolutely vital and he may have had one particularly bad fight with Dick in his little kitchenette the week before. It was interesting that the cards did seem to represent past, present, and future as he had originally suspected. He frowned, though. Death wasn't in his past. Based on the way the cards were set up, Death was his future. It was the first card he had pulled, with the three of wands being in the middle, as his present, while the three of swords being his past.

"It points to reconciliation, even though it was on the past, I think you're journey currently is learning to forgive your family--" God, Jason was trying so hard not to laugh. He heard Steph snicker beside him. "All signs point to reconciliation on both sides. Once that happens you can finally put to rest this chapter in your life and start your renewal as Death wants."

She tapped the three of wands again, "And you're on that journey, though I can't say when you'll achieve the final outcome."

Jason nodded, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he absolutely was not going to process his feelings about this reading until he was home, safe and sound, alone in his apartment. His head was already swimming. Sure, he had reconciled with Steph, but he hadn't really done anything to wrong her in the first place. He had tried to kill her ex a couple of times while they were together, but she seemed to have forgiven him. And they just clicked. Shared background and feelings of being the failed Robins. And Alfred. Alfred hadn't been the one to excommunicate him. He knew the butler could never do that. He saw Jason as a man who had simply lost his way in the whirlwind of his life, but he had never once doubted Jason's character...

And nope, Jason was going to back out of that emotionally charged alleyway before it overtook him in public.

"It's interesting," Iris said, breaking him out of his thoughts as she started collecting the cards and shuffling them back into the deck, "You also seem to have a very strong connection with the color green. You have a lot of rebirth symbols surrounding yourself, Jason."

"His birth cards are the chariot and the tower." Steph admitted, a cheeky grin on her face. Birth cards? Jason shot her a bewildered look before she rolled her eyes, "You add up the date of your birthday and you get pair of twelve sets of tarot cards. I did it before we came."

"Why?"

She shrugged, unbothered by his harsh tone, "I was curious."

"The chariot and the tower are a powerful combination. You'll be able to overcome anything thrown at you in your life. Though, you'll be in a constant state of change because of the Tower. Ripping yourself down to the foundation again and again to rebuild a stronger and better foundation for you to stand on while the Chariot brings stabilizing energy and the will for you to be able to complete your tasks, overcoming every obstacle every inconvenience on its way to deliver you to fate. It's often the card of warriors. They're painful cards, but eventually pain will stop being the driving force behind your transformation. You'll be the driving force behind the change you inflict both on yourself and the world."

Jason titled his head with a look of disbelief painted on his features, a small uncertain frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. Even if he did believe in this particular brand of magic, which he hadn't fully decided on at that exact moment, this wasn't exactly a positive reading. It wasn't like he was a stranger to any pain, his entire life had been seeped in the worst kinds of emotional and physical trauma most people could conjure up themselves. But what she had just said rang very similarly to what Ducra had said to him. Something about how glorious it will be when his heart shined brighter than his fury.*

And, something something, he needed to recover. Which he did it's just kind of hard working through his complex emotions featuring his adoptive father, all of his siblings, the clown that killed him, his own self worth and his ethics when there was an almost world ending event biweekly. And he did think he was being significantly more successful in terms of his recovery. He had at least started paying attention to shit that triggered him and was trying to take care of himself more than he ever had in his entire life. And that was something, right?

He still had a shattered mirror in his bathroom that held all the memories of him hunched over his basin, blood sometimes dried but always sticky on his hands as he tried to make sense of who he was. He was a mosaic of every person he had ever come in contact with, of a dead kid, a murdered robin, a current outlaw, of his father, all of his mentors and all of his siblings. He was full of jagged edges and unholy rage, but it was hard not to get lost in all the different patterns and colors he possessed. His breathing would be ragged and his eyes unfocused, he was the combination sum of everything that happened to him. Both good and bad and sometimes the bad one out the night, but more frequently it was the good. He was Jason. In ever manner that he acted. He was a vigilante. A fighter. A protector. He protected the people of Crime Alley to the best of his ability, he was a protector of children, of sex workers, of anyone who needed it. And he was trying to be better. For himself and the people he was so admit on protecting.

"Jay?"

He hummed a response, pulled from his thoughts at Steph's voice. She gave him a questioning look and he was very suddenly hit with the crisp cool air of the night. They were outside, walking through the Alley in the direction of her apartment. His hands were jammed in his pockets, feeling the sharp edge of something as he rubbed his thumb along the edge. He furrowed his eyebrows, "You good? You seem pretty spaced out."

"Yeah, sorry. I didn't really expect for that to go the way it did," He offered, still tracing the thing in his pocket, "I don't really know why it effected me this much."

She tugged her jacket closer around herself, nodding, "Yeah. The first time I went all of my cards seemed to be linked back to my, uh, death. Do you want to talk about it? I know I didn't actually die, but it might help?"

Jason flinched at her mention of her death and the casual admission that she didn't actually die. As if that made it any less traumatic. Immediately he shook head, "No. No, I'll be okay I think. It was largely positive. It's just..."

He felt his entire face screw up as he tried to think of what he was trying to express, he finally settled on, "Weird."

Steph nodded, both falling into a comfortable silence. He palmed the card, slipping it out of his pocket to look at it and was torn between an exasperated sigh and a smirk of amusement. Death seemed to be rather attached to him.

[vikingpoteto]

we don’t have to dance (to the beat of their songs)

Chapter 6 on AO3

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Relationships:  (Gen) Tim Drake & Jason Todd

Tags: Battle for the Cowl, Alternate Canon, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Mental Health Issues, Past Child Neglect, Domestic Fluff, Canon is not valid I am, and I want them to be friends goddamnit

Summary: In the middle of their battle, Jason asks Tim to leave the nest and be his Robin. Tim decides it's not a bad idea, after all.

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Normalcy.

Tim doesn’t quite know what that concept entails. Once, it meant taking care of himself in a big house, making sure no one knew how much time he actually spent alone. Another time, it meant solving problems, training hard and answering questions, juggling a double life. Then, leading a team of people who trusted him and whom he failed time and time again. Finally, for a brief period of time, normalcy was running against time to solve an impossible puzzle and being a triple agent.

And now… now he isn’t sure anymore.

It’s a sunny Saturday morning when he wakes up and squints at the window. He wonders how beaten he must’ve been to forget to close the blinds. He scratches his belly and sniffles because less than a few hours ago Ivy freaking bombed a warehouse with allergenic pollen, which was really uncool of her. She didn’t even bother to give them a heads up. She did apologize and gave them an antidote before they parted ways, but… still. Tim wonders if it was less effective on him because… you know.

He lifts his shirt enough to check on the scar. It’s healing well, in spite of everything. He doesn’t bother changing out of his sleeping clothes before going upstairs. Judging by the sun outside, it can’t be later than 11 am, which means…

Ah, yes. Just like he expected: normalcy now means getting out of bed late in the weekend and being greeted by the strong scent of tea, because Jason is a heathen. When Tim stumbles his way to the kitchen, he finds the now familiar sight of Jason in his favorite green hoodie, a mug of tea in his hand, and his nose buried in a heavy looking novel.

“Morning,” Tim mumbles, already searching the cabinets for coffee.

“Food,” Jason orders in lieu of a greeting.

Tim mouths the word food while pulling a face, but obediently grabs a piece of toast from the table. Bickering with Jason over mundane things is part of his routine now, but there are certain things the older boy is absolutely inflexible about. Part of normalcy now means knowing Jason will leave food for Tim and fighting him on whether he wants to eat is pointless. Tim bites into the toast as he prepares his coffee.

“Ivy’s thing worked for you?” Jason asks without raising his gaze from his book.

“Hm-hum,” Tim nods. He’s still sniffling, but it’s true that he felt instantaneous relief when he swallowed the antidote last night. “You good too?”

“Yeah. Still, I can’t believe you just took it when she handed it to you,” Jason puts down his book and glares at Tim.

Tim sits on the counter and shrugs. “If she wanted to kill us, she could’ve left us coughing our lungs out like the rest of the guys in the warehouse.”

“You have trust issues in the most fucked up way, kid.”

“Hey, I happen to trust people who deserve trust,” Tim protests. “It’s not like I would take something from the Penguin. Ivy is pretty chill if you’re not littering or dumping waste in rivers.”

“You have a crush on her or something?” Jason teases.

Tim rolls his eyes but focuses on chewing his toast rather than giving him an answer. Jason takes that as he wants, and snickers, like the idiot he is.

This is normalcy now. Having breakfast in the old kitchen and talking about mundane crap - or at least mundane for them - and it feels… Odd. Tim can’t quite explain it. It isn’t like eating alone in Drake manor. It isn’t like making a mess in Titans Tower - the closest place he ever had to a home - because even there he felt like he had to set an example somehow, to keep everyone in check. It isn’t like awkwardly joining Alfred in the morning, still feeling like Bruce only thought he had to adopt him considering the circumstances.

All in all, this new normalcy doesn’t feel like any Tim had felt before. He doesn’t dislike it.

“I’m probably going to finish the adjustments to your computer system today,” Tim informs him. “I can’t believe we’re finally leaving the stone age.”

“Shut up,” Jason tosses another piece of toast at him. “Also you can stop calling it mine. I hate it and I don’t know how to use it after everything you did to it. The computer is all yours.”

Tim catches the toast and grins around his first bite. “Ooh, look at me, I’m Red Hood, I’m tough and scary, but technology is cursed, Alan Turing was a witch-”

Jason stands. Tim is sure he’s about to either mess up his hair or put Tim in a headlock until he begs for forgiveness, even though he can see the hint of a smile twisting Jason’s lips upwards. Before a wrestling match starts, however, Jason freezes.

“Do you hear that?” he whispers.

Tim listens. He can hear nothing other than distant sirens. Burnley isn’t one of the worst districts in Gotham, but they’re too close to Crime Alley. These streets don’t get a lot of traffic. Not this early in the day, anyway.

Rather than explaining himself, Jason visibly shifts into Red Hood: his shoulders square up and he sets his jaw in a challenging scowl.

“Someone just parked on our driveway.”

Tim’s eyes widen. Could it be that they’ve been found out already? He made sure that the henchmen they got were too distracted by Ivy to notice them, but perhaps he had missed something. Part of him wants to go upstairs and grab his staff - even if that would be a stupid thing to do because he can’t exactly fight Dick into forgetting he lied to him.

Tim follows Jason to the entrance as he is, in his stupid oversized Superboy sweater and with toast crumbles all over his pants. He hadn’t even had his coffee. He peeks through the boards on the window and his stomach drops.

“It isn’t Dick,” he says. “It’s worse.”

Jason reads the worry in Tim’s eyes and lets out a curse. Technically, all the doors to the house are sealed. The only entrance is a block away and it leads to the basement/Red Hood bunker. Jason, however, seems to forget that and grabs the door handle angrily. Tim cringes when he hears the sound of frail wood being ripped because it means Jason’s strength is out of control - which means he’s getting near pit rage.

“How the fuck did you find us?” he barks from the porch.

Barbara Gordon is still adjusting herself in her wheelchair. The icy glare she gives Jason shows that she isn’t impressed by his fury.

Foreseeing disaster, Tim rushes out to put himself between Jason and Barbara. “It’s fine, let me talk to her!”

Jason glares at him. Although there’s a prominent vein pulsing on his brow and there’s definitely a hint of green in his eyes, he grits his teeth and stops. Tim sighs in relief before turning to Babs:

“Damian saw us, didn’t he?” he asks.

“What the hell does the brat have to do with this?” Jason hisses.

“Logic,” Tim shrugs. “I’ve been taking care of our digital trail. If Babs knows about us, it means one of the heroes under her watch saw us. Cass is in Hong Kong. Steph and Dick would’ve confronted us right away. The only option left is Damian.”

Jason groans and his eyes have mostly returned to their usual shade of brown. Tim had somehow annoyed him into calming down, which is a skill he’s getting better at every day. Tim smiles a little.

“Well,” Barbara says, her voice sharp. “You thought no one was going to notice two extra vigilantes running around?”

“Not forever, no,” Tim admits, trying to sound apologetic. "We wanted to be left on our own for as long as we could, though. We don’t need external interference.”

At that, Barbara looks scandalized. “Absolutely wrong. Get me a freaking ramp or get down here, Timothy, I’m going to beat the crap out of you.”

Jason lets out an annoyed huff, to which Tim glares at him. He has no business getting mad at Barbara for threatening them when he promises to beat Tim up at least three times a day. Five, if it’s not a school day.

“Why don’t we postpone the violence,” Tim suggests, his eyes not leaving Jason’s, “and just… have a chat? Inside? Jason just made tea.”

An annoyed grunt is all the response Jason gives him before making his way back inside.  He doesn’t slam the door behind him, which is as good as a yes. Tim rolls his eyes before climbing down the steps to help Barbara up the porch.

“By the way, how did you find our address?” he asks.

“Tim, please,” she huffs. “After I saw the footage from Damian’s bodycam, all I had to do was track your online footprint. You think I couldn’t notice the upgrades you’ve been making?”

That’s fair, and Tim should’ve predicted that possibility. Granted, if no one had seen them, Barbara wouldn’t know there was something to track.

He pushes her wheelchair to the living room where Jason is waiting for them. The older boy is sitting on their crappy couch with his knees spread out and his fingers steepled. It would’ve been an impressive crime lord pose to welcome someone if his green hoodie wasn’t sprinkled with toast crumbs.

Not that Barbara is that easy to intimidate.

“So what the hell happened?” She demands. “You left that night and went to meet the guy that almost killed you and two of your brothers?”

That stings. Barbara wasn’t there that night. Tim wonders if things would’ve been any different if she had been. Would she have listened to his theory or just called him crazy as Dick and Cassie had?

Well. All in all, he knew Barbara would always be there for Dick first. He never blamed her for that, because her partnership with Dick was far deeper than any impact Tim could’ve made in her life. He takes a seat by Jason’s side, farther from her.

“Damian also tried to kill me,” Tim reminds her. “And Dick fired me right after Jason offered me a job. Between the attempted murder and no job, and the same but with a gig...”

She takes off her glasses and pinches the bridge of her nose.

“That freaking idiot,” she mutters to herself. Then, raising her gaze to meet Tim’s: “He didn’t mean to fire you.”

Tim clenches his teeth. “It sure seemed like it when I woke up and saw Damian wearing my old costume,” he snaps.

He feels Jason whipping his head towards him, and he curses himself. He had never revealed the gritty details of his dismissal for a reason. He reminds himself that Dick gave him Robin and it was his right to take it away, he has no reason to be this angry. That only serves to make him more bitter, though.

“I’m not saying Dick wasn’t stupid,” Barbara continues, her brow furrowing. “I already had some words with him about it. It doesn’t mean it was okay for you to just vanish for months, Tim. And then you’re back and you don’t talk to anyone. Not even Steph? Me?”

“Oh, fuck right off,” Jason snaps.

Barbara goes stiff. Tim groans, because now he has to push his anger further away to be able to stop the two of them. Before he can say anything, Jason continues:

“You’re talking as if I fucking kidnapped him. You know damn well how capable he is,” he barks. “The kid made a choice. I swear to fuck, everyone‘s a critic…”

Barbara opens her mouth but closes it again without saying anything. She presses her lips into a tight line. It isn’t often you see Oracle at a loss for words. For the first time, she looks at Jason without any animosity, her thoughts bare in her eyes. Unlike the boys, Barbara doesn’t play games. She doesn’t hide her emotions on purpose. The longing in her eyes is almost palpable, as though she’s seeing a dear relative she lost a long time ago, and she can’t reach them.

“What are you two thinking?” She asks. “What are you doing?”

“What we do best,” Tim says simply. “Vigilante work.”

“You told Dick you retired,” Barbara points out. “Then you ghosted him. He keeps waiting for you to come back.”

“He likes to do that,” Jason says. Now his voice is barely a whisper. “He says he’ll be there if you need him. Who says we need him, though?”

Barbara hesitates. “I told… Never mind. Just… I’m glad you’re back, Tim. And I’m glad you’re not dead again, Jason.”

Tim smiles. Jason looks like he wants to glance around to make sure she’s not talking to someone else. When it becomes clear she isn’t, he somehow looks even more uncomfortable.

“So,” he starts. “What now?”

“We fight for Tim’s custody, obviously,” Barbara smiles.

The peaceful moment ends when Tim and Jason start protesting out loud over one another. Barbara giggles at the cacophony of half-words, something along the lines of fuck off, not a child get your own damn kid responsible for myself-

“I’m joking!” She shouts to be heard over their complaints. “Jesus, you boys get riled up so easily.”

“I’m not a boy,” Tim and Jason say at the same time.

They glare at each other. Barbara rolls her eyes.

“Now,” she continues as though they didn’t interrupt her, “let me see your work, Tim. I’m going to give you guys a free upgrade.”

“Like hell you are,” Jason says. “How do we know you’re not spying on us for Dick?”

She arches an eyebrow. “Funny. I thought you two were fighting rogues, not Batman. Why would Dick want to spy on you?”

“Because he’s a meddler and he doesn’t trust me,” Jason states as though it’s a fact.

“To be fair, you did try to kill Tim. And Damian. And Dick,” she retorts. Before Jason can say anything back, she raises a hand to ask for patience. “It doesn’t matter to me, though. Barbara Gordon is Dick Grayson’s best friend and partner. Oracle, however, is an ally to anyone trying to protect Gotham. I’ll help you two like I help Batman, the Birds of Prey, and even Batgirl.”

Jason frowns. “I thought Cassandra was in Hong Kong.”

“Well,” Tim scratches his own nape, feeling suddenly guilty. “Actually… there might be a new Batgirl in town.”

“What?”

“I wasn’t trying to hide it!” Tim says. “I swear it just slipped my mind with everything else I had to report!”

Jason looks like he wants to grab a cushion and smother Tim to death. Before he can do as much, Barbara clears her throat loudly and says:

“Anyway… Support. I don’t talk about the vigilantes under my watch. Not to Batgirl. Not to Batman.”

Jason crosses his arms and leans back against the couch, his brow furrowed. Tim fights the urge to pat away the crumbs from his hoodie and waits patiently. Technically, this is Jason’s operation and he’s the one calling the shots. Tim has his own opinions, but in the end, a sidekick is supposed to follow orders.

Then Jason turns to Tim. “Replacement?”

He… does he want Tim’s opinion?

“I trust Barbara,” Tim says without hesitation. “And having Oracle’s help is going to be a game-changer.”

Jason considers that for a moment. It’s clear that he isn’t happy about the conclusions he’s drawing but, in the end, he sighs in defeat.

“Fine,” Jason says. “But if you tattle about what we’re doing, you’re gonna regret it.”

“Why, gee, Jason, how kind of you to allow me to help you guys,” Barbara snaps.

The two of them start bickering, but Tim tunes them out for a moment. It isn’t like Bruce and Dick never asked him for his opinion. They did. A lot. He simply hadn’t expected Jason to do the same. And so openly too. Bruce liked to pretend Tim’s input was but a piece to a puzzle he was assembling by himself. It seems like Jason isn’t above taking Tim’s words at face value and explicitly showing that he was part of the decision making.

It’s… nice. Not quite like being a sidekick, but not like having a whole team depending on him alone. Tim decides he likes this.

“Alright, alright, enough,” he says, standing up. “Come on, Babs, let me show you our office. Do you want some tea?”

“Anything but Earl Grey,” she says, allowing Tim to push her wheelchair towards the kitchen. “Don’t tell Alfred.”

“Wha… Does that make me the cook?” Jason complains.

Tim gives him a pointed look. “Do you wanna help her with the computer instead?”

Jason starts grumbling and cursing under his breath, but he still starts looking for something in the cupboards.

Unlike the Batcave, the secret entrance to the basement isn’t very fancy: just a couple of tiles that can be removed and a ladder. Tim helps Barbara out of her chair and she climbs down on her own. He has to admire her core strength. A little juggling with the folded chair later, he joins her and helps her to the seat again.

As soon as she’s comfortable, rather than rolling straight to the computer, she wraps her arms around Tim a little tighter. Surprised, but not much, he hugs her back.

“I missed you,” she whispers. “I’m so, so glad you’re back.”

Tim squeezes her. He always loved Barbara’s hugs. He doesn’t say anything, though, because he doesn’t think he can. There’s a knot in his throat stopping any sound from coming out. He tightens the embrace a little more and hopes she knows what he means without him needing to say anything.

Barbara pulls back first, her expression somber. “Jason looks better.”

“He is,” Tim assures.

“Still… I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I do,” Tim says and there’s not a hint of doubt in his voice. “I… I guess I understand why he did what he did. And Jason is a hero too, Babs. I didn’t forget that, even if some of you did.”

She presses her lips into a tight line and at first, Tim thinks it’s due to the implied accusation. Then something clicks, and he thinks it must’ve been because he referred to the Batfamily as ‘some of you’. For a while, he refused to think of himself as an outsider - he was Timothy Wayne after all - but, at some point, it seems like he started accepting he might not be one of them anymore. It still stings.

However, he also realizes he can live with that. Maybe it’s because of how easy it’d been to get used to Jason, to this new normalcy that feels truly normal after so little time. Tim may have left, but it isn’t Red Robin and them. It’s us and them. And, if everything goes according to his plans, they’re soon going to be at least on the same side.

For now, it’s enough.

There was a time in Tim’s life when he didn’t mind making small talk. His mother drilled into his head that he was supposed to be pleasant and polite and that there’d be consequences if he embarrassed his father in front of his associates. Timothy could lose a whole week of his allowance for chewing with his mouth open during a business dinner. It was more about the inconvenience of being scolded than the punishment, really, but Tim learned pretty fast that being sociable and polite was easier.

It’s been a long time, though. Tim’s lost his touch. Or so it feels when he’s unable to shake off one of his annoying classmates.

“...and then you could totally join us this weekend for the tennis tournament,” she says.

Tim refrains from sighing. He thought all of his classmates had been warned not to mingle with that Drake kid. Even if he was Bruce Wayne’s newest charity case, he slept through most of the classes and talked back to the teachers. Unfortunately, Laney Gonzalez didn’t get the memo.

“I don’t think I should,” Tim says tiredly. “I’m not great at any sports, really.”

“Pff, like I’d believe you!” Laney chuckles and latches onto his arm, squeezing his biceps. “You think we can’t tell how muscular you are under this hideous uniform?”

For fuck’s sake. “No, really,” he tries again, gently prying his arm away with an awkward chuckle. “I’m not good at that sort of thing.”

Go to school, Tim, Jason said. You need an education, Tim. Why doesn’t Jason get an education? Then he could hang back after class, even though there are better things to do because Laney freaking Gonzalez decided it was a good idea to make friends with the weird kid. Tim’s attempts to reach the gates seem to go unnoticed by the girl.

“Come on, Tim,” she insists. “You never join us when we do class stuff. It’ll be fun. You don’t have to play or anything, just… hang out a bit?”

What is a polite way to say I’d rather get into a fistfight with Killer Croc , Tim wonders?

He’s about to make up a family emergency - is she going to notice that his phone didn’t buzz at all? - when he notices a small commotion near the exit. A group of students is eyeing the street curiously, and even the ones leaving are taking another glance at… something. Worried, he lets Laney’s speech about friendships in high school fly over his head, and he moves a bit faster. If something big happened while he was in history class, he’s going to freaking kill…

Jason.

Tim stops dead on his tracks because the thing his fellow schoolmates keep glancing at is none other than Jason Todd himself in all of his glory. He’s leaning against the biggest motorcycle Tim had ever seen and wearing his favorite black leather jacket. Tim is already considering the fastest way to kill himself even before Jason’s face splits into a wicked grin and he opens his arms.

“Timbers! Fancy seeing you here!” He says, no , shouts.

Kids in and out of the schoolyard follow Jason’s gaze and find Tim burying his face in his hands.

“Uh…” Laney is now keeping her distance for once. “You know him?”

Tim is already stomping towards Jason.

“What are you doing here?” He hisses.

Still smiling, Jason hands him a yellow helmet. “Picking you up. Not happy to see me?”

“What if Dick sees you?” Tim protests.

Behind him, someone gasps. Tim turns around and curses when he realizes Laney followed him and thought it was okay to listen to a private conversation.

“I’m so sorry,” she says. “I should’ve noticed it! For the record, I wasn’t hitting on you, if that’s why you kept refusing. I really just want to be friends.”

Jason looks vaguely amused.

Tim frowns. “What?”

“That’s your boyfriend, I assume?”

“No!” Tim hears himself shouting. “He’s my brother!”

Laney has dark skin, but Tim still notices the way her cheeks go a shade darker. “Oh gosh, is that right? I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you had any brothers other than Dick and Damian!”

Tim wants to die so bad.

“Actually,” Jason says, voice soft, dropping an arm around Tim’s shoulders, “I’m a bit of a family secret, so don’t go tweeting Vicki Vale about it, will you? We’ll know if you babble.”

Scratch that. He doesn’t want to die. He wants to kill Jason.

Laney nods hurriedly and makes a hushed promise to keep the secret. She mumbles something about texting Tim later - Tim is sure that she doesn’t have his number - and half-jogs away from them, her ponytail bobbing behind her. Well, that takes care of that. Laney Gonzalez is probably never going to speak to him again.

He turns around and punches Jason’s arm. “What the fuck was that?”

“I have a lead on that case from last night,” Jason hops on the bike. “Get on, loser, we’re going crime fighting.”

“We had a plan. You think Dick won’t notice you’re picking me up from school?” Tim complains. He’s already climbing the bike behind Jason, though.

“Tim, what did I tell you about plans again?”

Tim sighs as he puts the helmet on. He rests his forehead against Jason’s back as though he doesn’t even have the strength to sit up straight anymore. Make a plan. The plan goes wrong. Throw it away.

“Besides, Barbara knows. The Gremlin knows. It’s just a matter of time before we have Bitchard and Brat Girl on our asses.”

He starts the bike before Tim is ready, but Tim makes a point of looping his arms around his waist and swallowing a startled yelp when they go from zero to very fast.

It isn’t until they’re several blocks away from Gotham Academy that Tim fully understands what he’d just done. He told a random classmate he had an extra brother. He told her Jason was his brother. He briefly considers letting go of Jason’s waist and letting himself fall into the asphalt.

“Shit,” he mutters to himself. “I’m sorry.”

Jason eyes back briefly before turning his attention back to the street. Between the helmet and the speed, Tim didn’t catch even a glance of his expression, but he can picture it just fine. It’s been barely three weeks since they started living together, but this is normal for him now. He knows Jason’s mildly intrigued face just as well as his own.

“For what?” Jason asks.

“For saying you’re my brother. I panicked.”

Again, he remembers the early days at Wayne manor. Bruce had sworn off adoptions and Tim could only stay after he promised that wouldn’t be an issue.  Hell, Tim tried to keep his word even after his dad died, and yet…

Jason mumbles something that gets lost over the wind.

“What?”

“I said whatever, man!” Jason snaps. “I don’t think adoption expires after death. Technically we are brothers.”

Tim doesn’t say anything. He should know better than to keep making the same mistake.

But isn’t going after Jason a recurrent mistake in itself anyway?

“It’s better like this, to be honest,” Jason says. “It’d be weird to be living with a random minor, I guess.”

It’s basically an automatic response at this point: “You’re two years older than me.”

“I’m legally an adult. You’re not,” Jason reminds him.

“You’re legally dead, actually,” Tim points.

Jason barks out a burst of laughter. “Look at you, Timmy, saying such mean things. Am I a bad influence on you?”

“Now, that tone is creepy. Drop it or I’ll make us crash. You know I have no regard for my own safety.”

Tim is definitely doing that talking without thinking thing again.

“Ugh, don’t I know it,” Jason groans. “Should’ve considered that before taking a fucking kamikaze as my partner.”

Tim perks up. “Hey…!”

“You’re not allowed to name yourself Kamikaze,” Jason cuts him off. “First, that would probably be racist, and second, because you’re not naming yourself after suicidal pilots. You chose Red Robin. No takesie backsies.”

“Fine, mom,” Tim pouts.

Jason speeds up and Tim takes that as his cue to pretend the purr of the engine is too loud for them to talk.

For once in his life, Tim decides to really throw the plan away and see where this goes. This is just his new routine and Tim is nothing if not adaptable.

The case should be simple enough: someone had destroyed an underground casino and killed the bosses responsible for keeping the place running. All of the workers had been spared. They would consider it an everyday case if the same thing hadn’t happened again somewhere near the Narrows. The two places didn’t have anything in common other than the business they ran - gambling, prostitution… the works.

Tim spent hours thinking of a personal motive and so far he had discarded personal vendetta and random coincidence. The methods didn’t match one of the rogues they knew and, although he didn’t say it out loud, Tim feared they had another Red Hood like vigilante in their hands.

When Red Hood and Red Robin come out that night, they’re following one of Hood’s hunches.

“I still think I could’ve done this alone,” Red mumbles.

“I still think I could’ve done this alone,” Hood mocks in a high-pitched voice.

Red Robin glares at him and, even in the dirty dark alley, Hood doesn’t miss it. He sighs.

“Do you trust Oracle or not?” He sighs.

“Of course I do,” the boy mumbles. “Still, it would be more efficient…”

“To split up and have each of us cover a place. We’ve been over this. Oracle said she’d make sure the other place is closed for the night. If I’m right - and I usually am - our guy is gonna attack here.”

Red rolls his eyes but decides not to argue any further. He’s pretty sure this is punishment for forcing Hood to accept Oracle’s help, by keeping him close and refusing to let him do part of the job alone. Alas. Let Hood be petty for now. He’ll learn soon enough that having Oracle backing you up is too good of an opportunity to pass up.

However, now that he thinks about it, Red Robin hasn’t done anything big alone since his debut. Patrolling and stopping random muggins is one thing, but the attack on Black Mask’s warehouses? The bust of the big drug traffic operation at the harbor? This odd murder case? In all of these high profile cases, Hood demanded that he and Red Robin attacked together.

He makes a mental note to think about the possible meaning of that later. Right now he has to focus on finding suspicious activity, which is surprisingly hard. Once they’re at the strategic point Red Robin picked and getting set for the stakeout, Hood seems to have similar thoughts, because he comments:

“It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack, huh?”

Red sighs. “We’re not breaking into their office. We can’t risk spooking the murderer.”

The older boy shrugs and they settle down to wait.

This is a part of the job Red Robin was oddly fond of. There’s something about just sitting on a roof and waiting that is calming to him. He loved the adventure and solving mysteries and fighting bad guys and the thrill. That being said, there was something satisfying about taking your time and waiting to act. Just them too high up to be seen, the only witnesses being the cold night air and the certainty that they’re doing something good and saving innocents.

Tim wondered if it was fucked up of him to love this so much. He’s been in contact with the ugliest parts of humanity since he was a little boy, after all. After Cissie retired, he thought about it a lot. Like Cissie, he didn’t have special powers. He was just another boy that got himself into a crazy situation. Why couldn’t he be just another civilian, unaware of Gotham’s nightlife? Enjoy school, as Jason wanted him to? Live a long life, maybe die of old age?

Tim likes to think that the fact that he loves this so much means that he was made for this life.

“What do you think we’re facing tonight?” He asks.

Red Hood starts talking and Red Robin listens to him. Unlike Tim, Jason is all about instinct and passion. Whereas Tim collects clues and puts together theories, Jason understands the reasoning behind them and comes up with hunches that Tim couldn’t dream of. Red Robin loves to hear his hypothesis because it’s almost like having a book read out loud to you, and an enjoyable one at that.

He’s almost satisfied, all things considered.

Hood suddenly stops talking. As fast as lightning, he reaches into his holster and, before Red Robin even thinks of stopping him, Red Hood stands and points his gun at something - no, someone - right behind them. He pulls the trigger.

Red Robin opens his mouth in horror, but, rather than a lifeless body dropping to the ground he watches the invader dodge the bullet as though it’s nothing, almost gracefully. He reaches for his staff, but the invader is already running towards them again and Hood is getting about to take another shot. The invader’s cape flies behind them, dropping from their head and revealing... a familiar face.

Hood’s finger is already on the trigger and Red realizes this time she’ll have no time to dodge. Without thinking twice, he jumps between Red Hood and the woman.

“ TIMOTHY !” Hood barks, pointing the gun upwards.

“I know her!” Red Robin shouts at one of them. Maybe at both of them. “I know her! She’s my friend!”

The woman’s stopped as well. She’s looking at them with her head tilted to the side. Without minding Hood behind him, Red Robin faces her and takes in her appearance. She’s still bald. Still rocking all the scars - maybe she even has new ones? - and she’s still dressed like a grunge-rock singer from the late 90’s. He’d recognize her anywhere.

“Pru?” He confirms. “Prudence Wood?”

Her shoulders relax when she hears his voice. She reaches for something in her pocket - Hood gets tense again behind him - but all she grabs is a piece of paper. It’s crumpled and a bit dirty, as though she’s been walking around with it in her pocket for a while.

Without hesitation, Red takes it from her unresisting fingers and reads the words someone - presumably Pru herself - had hurriedly scribbled:

I knew this would get your attention, the paper says, I’m here to warn you. The Head of the Demon is coming after you.

And, just like that, Tim’s frail normalcy is gone.

[geckolady]

Skulduggery Pleasant: Raising Cain - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – Permanent resident

Stephanie is nine years old

The death of her mother had rocked Stephanie greatly. At the start she could only think about how she was gone, about her hugs and kisses and what she was going to miss the most. Losing her dad hadn’t been this bad but she had been naive then, too young to know better. She couldn’t even remember his face. Now she was older, she understood. She’d never see her Mummy again.

How was she ever meant to go back to normal?

She hadn’t been scared though, and she knew her Mum would be proud. First, Uncle Fergus had shown up and taken her to his house. She didn’t like it there. She was given a hot chocolate and the twins weren’t in sight. Beryl was very quiet, which was almost stranger than anything else. Almost strange enough to distract her. Then she got picked up by her Grandma and was told she’d stay with her for a while, which was nice. It was Grandma that explained that her Mum was gone forever and was sent to Heaven. She just cried. She didn’t even know if Heaven was real! What if it wasn’t and her Mum had disappeared? What if she was somewhere else? It just didn’t make sense and all the questions made her feel like she was slowly going crazy.

That Friday, six days after Melissa died in a car accident, only a few hundred yards from the building where her husband had fallen to his death, Gordon came to Grandma’s house while she was asleep.

She crept to the top of the stairs, immediately happy to hear his voice from her bed.

“-with me,” Gordon was saying. “Melissa already arranged it that way.”

“Then where were you, Gordon?” Grandma said with more anger than Stephanie had heard from her before. “Honestly, you are a bad influence on that girl! What makes you think you deserve her? She needs stability, not you. You have to be the last person she should be visited by when she’s so upset, and I intend to not let you see her again.”

That's when Stephanie got scared.

She ran to her room and got her backpack and quickly filled it with all the things she had been given when family had visited, all brought from her house. Her Mum’s house. She didn’t have much. Quickly, she grabbed her favourite toy panda and bolted down the stairs.

“-we’ll see about that!” Grandma shouted. She was in Gordon’s face. He was red with anger and his fists were balled.

“It should be her choice, Veronica! At any rate, it’s in the Will! I’m her godfather, I’m her guardian and I have full custody! If she wants to stay she can. But I won’t just leave her and never come back,” he growled at her.

“How dare you–”

“I want to go with Gordon.”

The adults jumped out of their skin and looked at Stephanie. She was still in her little shorts and top, her hair probably all over the place. She walked to Grandma and gave her a hug.

“I love you,” she said softly. “But I want to go with Gordon.”

Grandma started to sob but after a lot of hugging, she was finally pried away by her uncle and walked to the car. They drove in silence.

She wasn’t scared anymore. In fact, she was a tiny bit excited that she might see her friends again. That would be fun, even if she were still upset and missing her mother. She smiled, drifting off to sleep.

.*****.

“AAAAAAAAGGHHH!” Stephanie shouted, throwing a snowball over at Gordon. It hit his head just as he looked over his fort. “YYYYEEEEAAAHH! I’m the victor!”

“Never!” And he got her on the shoulder.

Stephanie laughed and continued to scream and pelt him with snowballs. When they were finished trying to annulate each other, they went inside to get hot chocolate. Stephanie sat on the sofa in the living room, blowing at the hot liquid. It would be Christmas in a few days and the big Christmas tree was almost hovering off the ground because of the amount of presents that were stacked underneath. Stephanie had bought Gordon and her six friends gifts which Gordon promised to give them. She was also going to bake some biscuits which he said he’d give to them also. That was tomorrow's job. The rest of it was for her.

Sometimes she felt bad that they always bought her things. But it wasn’t like she made them do it, so she didn’t think about it much.

“So, what are you hoping to get for Christmas?” Gordon asked, sitting across from her.

“You know what I want,” she said, taking a sip finally. It almost scalded her tongue. “I want to see my friends.”

He sighed. “Why can’t you want fun things like TV’s and games and money?”

“So… I can have a TV?”

“No. But that’s what you’re meant to want,” he told her. “Not even a book?”

She shrugged. “That would be nice, but I’d really like to see them.”

He smiled at her. “You know I can’t let you do that. I’m sorry Steph. I just want to keep you happy, you know.”

She smiled weakly. “I know. I love living with you. I just want to see them.”

“When you’re older, I promise. When you’re older we can all go on holiday, we can do anything you want. You’re just too young now. You could get hurt.”

She nodded and tried to think of what to do to make him see her as stronger and older. She bit her lip. “How would I get hurt visiting someone?”

“Because of their jobs. They take down bad guys, and you’re just too small. And don’t act like you wouldn’t get involved because we both know the first thing you’ll ask after you meet them is to go and work with them!”

Stephanie hesitated and decided it was best not to push. “Maybe I could do something now, before I meet them? Like learning to fight. Then I’ll be really strong when I’m older.”

He grinned. “Now that’s a good idea.”

.*****.

It was summer again and almost Stephanie’s tenth birthday. In the nine months since Christmas, she had grown almost two inches and she’d been doing well at learning to fight. She had been allowed to join a junior Muay Thai class on Mondays and Thursdays, a boxing class on Fridays, and a morning kid’s fitness club on Monday through Friday mornings. There were mostly older kids there, but after a few months of fighting, she was good enough to keep up with them. On Tuesday and Wednesday evenings she swam. It really helped her relax and blow off steam from school. She really didn’t like school.

The weekends were strictly for her and Gordon, with a little homework time, so Stephanie was looking forward to tomorrow when they would get to go to a theme park. Plus the day after was her birthday. It was going to be a good birthday, especially since school had been so bad since she started. Year Five was not fun!

“Steph, are you ready?” Gordon called from the hall. “And have you seen my keys?”

“Here!” She grabbed Gordon’s key’s and they drove to the small gym where a load of kids were already standing around outside. She supposed it was still alright to do the class on the grass. The sky was white, and not in the about-to-rain way.

“I can’t wait until we start training inside again,” she moaned. “I like the inside.”

He grinned at her. “You’ll be alright. Now go kick their arses! If I get back and you’re not in trouble I will be deeply disappointed, young lady!”

Stephanie laughed and hurried to join the group. It was a good lesson and she had progressed enough that their teacher, a young man called Cory, allowed her and one of the older kids – they were all boys except for her – to spar.

“I can’t spar her!” He said, thrusting his small training glove at her. “She’s a girl!”

Stephanie put her mouth guard in and crawled into the ring. They had gone inside for the sparing. Gordon entered the building and waved to her. She grinned and waved back.

“Mate, just spar her. Trust me, she’ll be fine,” Cory told him. “Now get in there.”

The boy, maybe twelve and not much bigger than her though she could see he had more muscles, got in but he didn’t look happy. “I’m not fighting you,” he said lowly to Stephanie.

“Why not?” She frowned.

“You’re a girl!”

Stephanie rolled her eyes and punched him in the nose.

The boy's mum was furious with her. She had broken her poor boy's nose and he had been crying all the way to the hospital to get it fixed. Their trainer had kept her behind while they got it sorted and then high-fived Stephanie when he was gone and sent them on their way.

“I did it,” she claimed, sitting back in the car. “I did what you said. I won.”

“You did,” he grinned. “You have a mean punch.”

“I have,” she said seriously. “I want to meet my friends and go on adventures.”

His smile lessened but she felt he was not exactly upset. “So, what do you want for your birthday?”

She snored. “I still want to see my friends. Obviously.”

“When you’re older Steph. I promise. I’m going to tell them all about this though.”

She grinned. “Awesome.”

.*****.

Secondary School was not fun. She had thought Primary School had been bad. This was a lot worse. She hated Secondary School. Who did Mrs Miller think she was? She was an idiot. She was a bitch. An idiot bitch.

“Steph?” Gordon called up the stairs as she stomped away. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” she growled, stomping to her room. She hated school.

She dumped her bag by her bed and laid down against the pillows. She’d had it redesigned for her eleventh birthday, choosing to get black display cases for all her gifts with lots of book space, a long desk, big bed and fluffy rug. The two big windows showcased the front garden beautifully and she got to see every time her friends came over. She never saw them themselves though. Not even from their cars. They were always blackened, and she couldn’t help but feel left out and upset that they didn’t want to see her. They still left her gifts, but a friend to talk to would be more appreciated.

“Steph?” Gordon asked quietly. “Can I come in?”

She shrugged, looking out the window. He sat at the end of her bed.

“What happened?” He asked.

“Nothing.”

“Please. I’m not that stupid. Tell me what’s up.”

She thought about it for a moment. “I hate Mrs Miller.”

“ And why’s that?”

“She’s nasty.”

“How?”

“She said something nasty.”

“What did she say?”

“We got into an argument. I was making a drawing on my book, and I know that’s wrong, but she screamed at me in front of the whole class and then ripped my book apart.”

“What book?”

“My school one, the one I write in! She pulled out the page with pictures on it, even the one with things in the margins and put it all in the bin.”

“That’s not everything, is it?” He said, putting a hand on her knee.

She shook her head. “She got in my face and said ‘Do you think you’re smart? You’re going to grow up to be an idiot and never do anything in your life. Your parents will wish they never had you, they’ll wish they never knew you at all. Do you want that?’ and then she made me stand in the corner, but I refused, and she told me to leave the room, and I did, but I heard her say under her breath, ‘No wonder she has no friends.’ Who does that? This isn’t a – a – a fucking movie!”

He kissed the top of her head and let her language slide. “Let me call the school.”

She nodded and waited until she thought he was far away from the room before she cried.

Later that night after a takeaway pizza and ice cream, Stephanie laid in bed with her eyes closed, trying hard to fall asleep.

Her door opened.

“She was so upset,” Gordon said softly from the door. Stephanie tried to be as still as possible. “I’m worried about her.”

“She doesn’t seem to get on with people her own age well,” Crow’s velvet voice said. She really wanted to move now. “Perhaps you should reconsider our agreement.”

Gordon made a tutting sound. “I want Stephanie to have every opportunity in the world. Going on adventures is one of them. Until she’s at least a little older she won’t be able to realise the hardship and pain that comes with that type of life. I want her to be certain, to not hold her back. Just give her a little longer to have fun.”

“I understand,” Crow said quietly.

Her door shut.

[smells-like-ink-and-fire]

Innocence died screaming, honey I should know

Here’s the thing: For all his talk of Gotham being a life-sucking, happiness draining shithole, leaving it had never been truly an option on Jason’s mind. It was his shithole of a city goddammit, the grim dirt streets he would die on. It was his home, the blood on his veins. This city had its claws deep into him, and leaving, especially leaving never to return, had been simply impossible, did not compute to him.

Especially now, that Jason was getting along better with the Bats these days. He still didn’t, and never would agree with Bruce regarding his no-killing rule. But things were better, or at least he thought they were. His presence was expected and even accepted. There were some awkwardness and silent nobody knew how to fill, but there were also jokes and eating junk food together after patrol. Sure, there were a lot of snippy comments but he made those too, gave as good as he got, and Bruce still didn’t quite trust him, not to the extent he did with the other, though that was just a given, he had made peace with it, he still killed, after all, a little suspicion was an acceptable price to pay for it.

Self-righteous, holier than thou bat.

Still, there was an uneasiness on his chest whenever the pointed looks got too much when they would start questioning his actions and his plans like he hadn’t been trained by the world's greatest detective like the rest of them and League of Shadows on top of that. Forgetting that Jason had effectively taken control of the East End in less than two months, and without any of them noticing.

The good parts didn’t lessen the rage-hurt out when Barbara sneered at him, acting like he couldn’t be trusted in the field, like the fact he had issues, that he cared about the victims because he had been one made him incapable of being rational, turned him into something that was eternally compromised. Like he was a mindless raging monster, who would shoot to kill at mere provocation.

He had been, once, fresh out of those green waters, traumatized, angry, afraid, and replaced. He had been a child, too, didn’t that count for something?

Their veiled accusations of insanity, that he had a problem, that needed to be handled like he was a fucking dog, the angry gremlin claims that he was unhinged and the only reason that they kept him around was to keep an eye on him, it all made Jason feel queasy, made him feel less than human.

It made him wonder how truly welcome he was. Was he welcome or they were just trying to appease their guilt and keep a loose cannon from the streets?

But there were undoubtedly good things too. Moments that made it worth it. His relationship with Steph and Duke, and surprisingly, Replacement was getting better, even though the first two were not around as much as he would like. The nights they had spent chewing off some of the undoubtedly brilliant but assholes teachers while demolishing mountains of homework had been fun, and Replacement-Tim was quite a sass master, now only if he could convince the kid to take a step back from WE so that he wouldn’t have a heart attack before he could drink legally.

Replacement, however, was why he was here. Here being diner on the border of the Bowery and Robinsonville, The Raging Duck, a new place that Golden Boy wanted to try, make a family bonding experience out of it, Jason was sure. Replacement had twisted his way around with words in a shape that made it impossible for him not to come. His saving grace was that Jason had already made clear that he couldn’t stay long, under the pretext of having to verify that month payments collection from the Bowery.

Which was goddammed good thing because this whole outing had been a mistake. The last couple weeks had been rough, with the stress of studying and writing applications for his master degree, the couple of murders that almost led to a gang war between the Falcone and the Russians,  plus a decoy staged by the Riddler, as his newest scape plan, that had taken too long to crack leading to an accident that had killed three people and would have killed a lot more if Jason hadn’t said fuck and put bullet holes on some goons heads. This in turn led to an inevitable argument because of Batman's continuous incapacity to see the necessity of his actions while on some level recognizing that was the only poss0ible decision meant that tension had been higher than usual.

Therefore, putting everybody in a room together was definitely not the best idea, Dickie! The last ten minutes certainly proved so, what had started as an easy-going conversation about their early on mishaps of the field, which included a hefty number of stories where the main theme was “And then I said Fuck Batman – With varying degrees of success” that had started as a split-second change of subject in order to avoid a fight breaking out, had turned into passive-aggressive attacking Jason. The worst part was that Jason wasn’t even sure they were doing on purpose.

Did the even realize he was sitting right next to them? Or was he just a ghost?

“… and then the fantastic Robin fell three stores down only to be needed to be saved by the incredible Spoiler! So, listen to me kids, if you’re going to say fuck Batman you should at least be sure there is something to break your fall before you jump.”  - Steph finished the story with a flourish, going back to her waffles.

“That was a level of stupidity that I wasn’t aware that you were capable of Replacement. Really, I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.

“Please, as if you weren’t the first one to ignore an order just to fuck with B, Jason. There’s a list. The Incident with the Falcone. Killer Crock latest scape. The entire shit show that was last week. – Tim shot back, mulish, poking at his fries

And every single of those missions was a raging success.

“Which is the one involving Babs, back when she was still BG, you know the one she always mentions, because I don’t know what you did dude but she’s still pissed at you for it.”

“Oh, I know! Bruce forced them to work together on that one, it was a drug-smuggling operation that involved kids. Jason jumped in instead of waiting for her signal. Needless to say, it did not end up well. Babs was so very pissed.”

Yeah for the assholes that thought using kids as drug mules was a good idea. BG was just made the street rat had a better plan than her

“Is that why warehouse 25F is a gory, burned-out mess?”

“Nah, that came later, during that corruption case that nearly put the Comish in the hospital. Or maybe it was the one involving that Nazi Arts dealer?”

“Is there a difference? They always end up in unnecessary explosions. Todd’s need for dramatics and overuse of force are well documented”

Because you can talk about overuse of force, demon spawn.                    

“Robin. Less explosions. Trying to help. Hurt.”

“Yeah, he was trying to help Cass, nobody is denying that the thing is Jason desire to be a little shit and prove Batman wrong is way stronger than his drive to help people, and even though there were far less explosions back then, both he and innocent people have gotten hurt.”

How you’d know? You weren’t around back then Dickface.

“So, we can agree that it’s basically a Pavlovian response for him at this point. Your stubbornness and desire to say Fuck Batman no matter the consequences have been able to surpass death Jason, and if that it’s not a feat, I don’t know what is. Congratulations, really!” – Steph summarized.

He had been holding up fine until that point but he just didn’t have the strength to it anymore, every word out it Tim's mouth felt like the blow of crowbar shattering his ribs, chocking on his own blood because a Batarang slashed his throat. He felt faint. He felt dangerously close to crying.

“I have to go.” – Jason got out of his chair.

“Jason…” – The pitying and yet reproachful note on Dick’s voice made his skin crawl.

“I said I couldn’t stay very long. Some of us have stuff to do. You know criminal empires to run, places to blow up, kneecaps to shoot.” – He doped a twenties bill on the table.

“Todd. Cease being childish. Just because you are unable to accept your failures, and the fact that you were incompetent and arrogant enough to be captured by an enemy does not mean you should incapable of accepting constructive criticism.”

“Not being childish gremlin. I do have a criminal empire to run. And I do take constructive criticism, preferably from people who know what the hell they are talking about. You know people that are more than the “blood sons” of people that are greater than themselves. Noise midgets, not so much. Bye.”  – Jason out of the dinner before any of them can reply.

See you never again.

He doesn’t know how he gets back to his closest safe house. It’s a reasonably good one. He likes this one. He focusses on the things he likes. Hardwood floor. The light green paint. On the things, he doesn’t. The shitty heating. The fact that the cabinets doors don’t shut all the way.

Breaths. Slowly. In and Out. Counts to three hundred. Breaths again.

The tears still prickle on his eyes. His chest feels hollow. His throat is dry. He doesn’t have the strength to move from where he’s sat on the floor, his back against the door. Going a few rounds with Deathstroke had hurt less. It certainly never made him want to crawl under his bed and stay there until the world forget he existed. Of course, Slade had also never blamed for his own death.

Even though his own father had. Reckless, overly aggressive, incapable of following orders, loud-mouthed Robin that got what he deserved, Bruce had said. Maybe not to his face but he had said it. Then again it had been his fault, hadn’t it?

He takes a few more breaths, tries to push his emotions back, locking them deep, and walks to the fridge, pours himself a glass of water. Drinks it. His mind goes back to the conversation. The glass shatters in his hand.

“Oh, fuck!”

He goes to the sink, to clean his hands and throws the broken glass into the trash. Lucky there were only some minor cuts that don’t need stitches even if they hurt like a bitch.

Take that universe!

Still, he wraps them in bandages since he doesn’t fancy cleaning blood out of his sheets. Sleep, however, doesn’t come easily that night, and the time he doesn’t spend tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position to follow to try to fall back asleep in, he spends waking up from dreams that leave him feeling like he’s constantly falling, sharp terror waking him each and every time.

There is no rest for the wicked though, and so he takes off by late morning and goes to check o on the rest of the gang, makes sure Antony is running things smoothly. All in all, it’s pretty boring, with enough paperwork to make a bonfire, but it does the job of taking his mind out the things for a while. Patrol is uneventful, which is a welcome respite, and Jason doesn’t do much more than stop a few muggings and beating up some creeps.

During that time, he keeps an ear out for the bats, especially Dick since he’s not anywhere near the mood to listen to another of the boy wonder lectures about how “Damian is just a child; you shouldn’t take what he says seriously”, especially those came with the addition of being delivered in that tone that screamed, “even though he’s right”. But he must have gone back to his turf because he sees no hair nor hide of him or any of the others.

The next two nights are very much a repetition of that first one, with little sleep and little action, so much so that a paranoid and exhausted part of him gets a bit terrified and so he ends up calling Roy just to hear the genius talk about whatever crazy project he’s been working on lately. If the redhead has any idea why Jason is calling him at four in the morning, he doesn’t comment on it and simply talks until his friend's breath has even out.

This way when the sun comes up the next day, Jason drags himself out of bed and heads straight to the shower, the cold water helps ground him back into his body. Still feeling like shit but at least knowing the difference between dream and reality he eats his breakfast while checking his messages and it’s more than a little bit shocked to see a text from Bruce asking, as in there is an actual please in it if they can talk about a possible case with a few crossed wires. There’s even an invitation to stay for dinner alongside with it, which makes him wonder if Bruce hit his head a little too hard the other day, or if Alfred finally made good on his promise of finding a drug that made him less emotionally stunned.

No matter the cause, the message leaves him hopeful enough that he answers with a yeah, I’ll be there by five.

He arrives at the Manor door fifteen minutes past five, just in case, greeting Alfred with a smile that the old butler easily returns. They make some small talk as the older man demands him to at least drink a cup of tea before heading down. Still, they part at the entrance of the cave and Jason takes those final steps alone.

“Sup, old man?”

“Jason.” – Bruce answers, his back turned, typing at the bat computer, probably filling some reports.

“C’mon B, you’re the one who called me unless of course, you somehow have been possessed and that please was you asking for help, in which case, give me a second and let me call the Martian Manhunter, you gotta give a bit more of information.” – Jason kept his gaze on Bruce’s back, his breath steady, he was not rambling thank you very much!

“There been some talk about an escort service in Diamond District that works as a front from money laundering. I think you might know some of the girls.”

“Little bit out of my way. Maybe you should check with Cat.”

Bruce’s eyes were shining, and the line of his mouth meant that he was finding it funny and Jason was filed to the brim with a wave of warmth and nostalgia. It made him feel like a kid again, it made him like Robin again, like magic.

“Maybe we should.”

“Oh gross! Let’s go back to the ever-existing cases of corruption and gross old man please?”

“Isabella McGarvey”

“Know the surname. Any relation to Ophelia McGarvey?”

"Her older sister I believe, records show that she moved from the East Side two years ago but didn’t take her sister with her because she was a minor…"

Most of the afternoon passed that way. With the Batman and the Red Hood checking financial records, discussing disappearances and police reports in an amiable tone, full of teasing.  It was a welcome change of pace being the one providing the answers to all-knowing Batman for once. So, he took his time explaining the inner workings and the shady dealings of the Alley, preening at the attention and the approval, something he would deny until his second dying day.

Perhaps the only dark spot in the otherwise bright day was the fact that Jason kept purposely having to avoid looking at the southeast corner of the cave, at the glass cage that seemed to hover over them.

Refusing to acknowledge that some part of Bruce would always believe he was dead

“There maybe be a loose end might be worth exploiting but I don’t know how long that window would be open: There was a shooting, a few days ago, near the Bowery and Robinsonville, no cameras, three dead, the assailant left no evidence behind.”

“Don’t know what to tell you Bats, last time I was there I was with your kids, didn’t hear anything, neither did mine. I mean, I could ask but this is Gotham, murders are pretty much the norm. Unless those guys are part of something bigger, I got you nothing.” -  Jason shrugged, already calculating the possibilities of why this is relevant and coming out with nothing.

Damn all-knowing paranoid bat.

“They were. Trafficking ring. Middleman.”

“There is no trafficking ring in the Alley”.

Of that he’s certain.

“There is not. Because those men were killed before they could take anyone. But they were known for it, and they were asking the sort of questions that could ping on your radar.”

“Well, I haven’t heard anything. I’ll make sure to pay more attention, update some protocols.” – Jason answered, already planning to investigate it.

If they were acting as a middleman for someone roaming around then that someone would send more to scoop the territory out and he would be prepared when they came, regardless of what else could be there. There were no trafficking rings in Alley.

“Or maybe you did and decided to take care of it your own terms”

The abruptness of the question was so earth-shattering that he took a few steps back to regain his balance.

“Jesus Christ Bruce if are gonna accuse me of murder you could at least have the decency of start with that. No, I did not kill them. If any of mine did I haven’t heard of it. But as far as I’m concerned is no great loss.” - He succeeds at sounding nonchalant and enraged, hiding the fact that the question felt like a bucket of water, leaving his cold and shaking.

So, this is why Bruce actually called, so he could question Jason about his latest failure, his latest disappointment in Bruce’s eyes. Of course, it was, and he was a fool for ever thinking otherwise. For letting himself hope that Bruce was trying, that he wanted to rekindle the relationship they had when Jason still wore those green panties.

“Where were you at 2:30 in the morning, three nights ago?”

“What?”

Please god, everything but this. I can’t do this again

“At the time of the murder, where were you?

“In a dinner with your kids.” – Jason’s voice was nothing more than a whisper as if all the air had been pushed out of his lungs.

Why you don’t believe me? Why you don’t trust me?

“Damian said you left early, earlier than that, because he got home at 3:00. It takes at least half an hour to get here from there.

“Safehouse a few blocks away, then. Sleeping. Bruce, please”.  – Jason was begging now, voice raw and full of hurt.

“Can you prove that?”

"The hell is wrong with you?!? I already told you: I. DID. NOT. KILL. THEM. When have I ever not taken credit for the people I’ve killed?"

“What’s going on?”

And of course, because his luck could not be worse, that was the Perfect Grayson coming down the stairs. He could feel the headache forming behind his eyes. He did not want to deal with this shit right now.

Was it too much to ask for the ground swallow him whole?

“Nothing! Bruce’s just spent the last five minutes pointlessly accusing of murder! Can you get the fuck out so we can continue discussing it?”

“You were near the scene of the crime, you have a motive, the means, and a history.”

“Wait you killed someone?”

“No! Keep up, Bruce is just being a dick, you know like you usually are.”

“Is a valid concern”

“Is a piece of shit that is what it is!”

“Can someone please explain?”

“Bruce thinks I killed three people after I left the dinner the other day.”

That what you did after you left? It’s that what you meant by shooting kneecaps? Jay… I know that you were angry but this…

“Jesus Fucking Christ Didn’t I just say its bullshit?”

“You said that?”

“It was a joke”

“You have motive, means, no alibi and now your brother is telling me that you left because you needed to shoot someone. What do you want me to believe?”

“THAT I WOULDN’T LIE ABOUT IT!”

“If you were planning only to main them, if your anger got the better out you, as it has before if you did it out impulse, and is trying yo hide it.”

“You know what Bruce? You’ve already made up your mind so I will do us all a favor and get myself out. You can’t trust me? Well, I can’t trust you. From now on there will be no bats at the East End. If you are seen, you will be shot. That’s how trigger happy I fucking am!”

He pushed passed Dick and Bruce, the world was tingled with pit green glow, his ears were roaring, no sound, only rage, and loss. Every step he took was calculated, his breath was short, measured. A of violence ready to blow up at the mere provocation held together only by the barest threads of sanity and humanity and the training Ducra had given him. Roy’s voice babbling at him. Kori’s booming laughter. Kyle ridiculous art. Donna’s everlasting sass and warmth.

Somehow, someway he made home without turning Gotham into a bloodbath, and the relative he felt at activating the security protocol was fastly overtaken by fear. He hadn’t had an attack like that in over three months. Hadn’t let the Pit burning so strong in his veins in so long. Hadn’t felt that disconnection to reality since his early days out of the Pit.

Just the idea of what could have happened in case he lost control made Jason grab the nearest bucket and puke. He stayed there, pressing the palm of hinds to his eyes, heaving.

It didn’t matter, because it didn’t happen.

His phone rang, and if it was anybody else calling, he let go straight to voicemail, but it was Talia’s ringtone and she didn't call jus for kicks, so he presses answer.

“If I told you I didn’t kill a man would you believe me?” – Jason blurts out before he can stop himself, red coloring his cheeks as he realizes what he just said, cursing himself for his stupidity.

“Of course. Why would…I see.” – Talia’s face goes from neutral to confusion and finally anger in a matter of seconds. – “Your father does not know you at all Habibi, and that, rest assured, is entirely his fault. He’s too caught up in the image he made of you to be able to see you as truly are.”

“Batman being a stunned idiot, who can look past his own reasoning of the world? What an earthshattering idea T! – Jason says sarcastically trying to cover up his earlier emotional outburst. -  Anyway, got a reason for calling?

“Do not play coy with me, Jason, it’s unbecoming. Regardless, I do not believe Gotham has done you good. Moreover, I do not believe your father's actions towards you have been in any way helpful to your recovery and growth.”

“What are you? My therapist?”

“I would not be against for you to see one, but I would not force you either. Your choices, as always, must be your own. Besides is my understanding that to be effective therapy must also involve privacy. Another thing that its unlikely to come by if you are to remain here.

“Gotham needs me. The Alley needs me, God knows the Bat can’t handle this shit, they don’t care and even if they did the Alley would never trust them” – It wasn’t as much a rebuttal as it was an excuse

“They do, but you are of no use to them if you are constantly emotionally compromised by the rash and thoughtless actions of those who do not understand you and do not seek to. Loyalty is a gift that must be not be given lightly and they make ill use of yours while reaping the benefits of it. Perhaps it’s time for them to learn how to much you do for them. The absence does make the heart grow fonder.”

“You’re telling me to leave.”

“I’m telling take a step back. You’ve done tremendous work, but there’s more to you then violence. The petty criminals and drug dealers and the pimps are all properly terrified, your minions are capable enough that they can keep your operation running without your direct involvement. Rest. Recover. Come back when you are ready. Besides, you do have your master’s degree to consider, don’t you?”  - Jason blushed, Talia wasn’t one to give compliments that she didn’t mean, and she did have a point, but…

But what? What did he truly have here? It had taken less than ten minutes for Dick convince Bruce, based on nothing more than a few throw away words Jason had said when he was angry and hurting, that Jason had killed a man and once that decision had been made no amount of evidence would make Bruce turn around in his favor. The others probably already knew what had happened and just as likely had decided to stay away from him from now on. After all, if he couldn’t take a little teasing without blasting someone’s brains out then he was certainly no better than the crazies in Arkham, to them.

What Talia was offering has the peace of taking a walk without being judged by the path he chooses to walk on, let the dust stele until bygones were bygones and he could look at Dick’s- Holier-Than-Thou face without breaking every single bone in it.

What did he have to lose that he couldn’t take back later on?

“You do realize that this will take quite a bit of work and resources, right? – Jason could almost see that pleased little smile of hers spread on Talia’s face.

“You do realize who you are speaking with don’t you Habibi? Let’s get to work.

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

The Batfam reacting to Batsis dating Roy Harper...(HC)

Requested by an ever-lovable-Anon Headcanons for batfamily being protective of batsis 'cause she's dating Roy Harper? Like what their reactions and stances would be

Short A/N So first off, this is kind of a different variant off Headcanons, more like preferences (you’ll see what I mean), and secondly, this kinda works like a second part for those Headcanons, but you can read it completely individually. Lot’s of Love, Brina. 

Bruce is torn. On one side, you’re his little girl and he wants to protect you from all the evilness in the world (besides the kind you basically fight against every night), but on the other side, he saw how happy Roy made you and he was completely sure that you knew what you were doing. You were not a child anymore. But still...you were one of Bruce’s princesses.  When Roy and you went to Bruce to reveal your Relationship, he was completely frozen for a few seconds. Was that it? Were you an adult now? Did you still need him? Those kinds of thought plagued his mind and you were starting to believe that his silence meant that he was angry at you. Which he wasn’t and, when he realized that you were starting to retract yourself in nervousness, he told you so. He told you that he was happy if you were happy. In the end, he did not not allow it, but he certainly had four eyes on Roy and maybe (or maybe not) three different ways in mind how to revenge your heart if Roy was to ever break it. 

Alfred tries to keep himself out of your and your siblings love-live, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t protective of you. He has the heartbreak-kit hidden for you, with everything you’d need in case Roy’d broke your heart.  He was also one of the first ones to know about you and Roy since you trusted him completely. Like Bruce, he made sure you knew he supported you but other than that he also made it clear to Roy that if he was to ever hurt you, he had never promised Bruce anything related to not-killing and has quite the high kill count... He was the first, but long not the last to threaten him. 

Dick’s reaction was pretty mild. You told him alone since he was thinking out loud about trying to play matchmaker for you and you thought it was time to tell him about your boyfriend. He just nodded and changed the topic. He knows Roy and he trusts you, so he doesn’t really see the need to make a big thing out of it, even though he can’t help himself, and gives Roy the big-brother-’if-you-hurt-her-I’ll-burn-your-house-down’-shovel-talk. All in all, he most likely has the ‘chill’-reaction from all the batfam members, but if Roy’ll ever hurt you, he’s gonna be one of the first ones to call for drastic measures. 

Jason finds out before both of you even are a couple. One night, Roy, Jason and You are in Jason and your apartment, chilling with some booze, but you, being a pretty cheap drunk, were gone way before both boys and your drunk self decided to just blatantly admit that you were in love with Roy.  Your brother was furious about that (not in the sense that he was angry at you and more because that means that there is some sort of romantic-connection between Roy and you). Roy wasn’t even able to blink before there was a gun aimed at his head. Your (not yet) Boyfriend tried to explain everything to Jason and prove to him that he loves you too, but that got kinda hard since Jason was either shooting at or punching/kicking him.  Even though you weren’t as good as you were sober, you were still a somewhat good fighter drunk, helping you to stop their fighting long enough for Jason to listen to Roy. In the end, your brother begrudgingly accepted that his best friend and his favourite sister were now dating. 

Tim literally acts like he doesn’t know Roy and he basically questioned him like Roy is America’s enemy No.1. He does the whole background check-up and talks to everyone in the league who has worked with Roy in the past. Until he is completely sure that he can trust Roy with your happiness (which can take up to two months), he’s always somehow spying on Roy.  But after he trusts him enough, he’s super chill. He might not be the greatest fan of seeing PDA, but other than that the both of you can always count on his support.

Damian actually found out as one of the last. Why? Because even though he’d never admit it, Roy is a tine-tiny-little big bit afraid of Damian. You tried to convince him that your baby-brother wasn’t that bad, but every time you suggested finally telling Dami, he found some excuse or, occasionally, just jumped out of the window (he did that three times until you told him that if he’d do that again, there would be no reason to tell Damian the two of you are dating, because by then, you wouldn’t be dating anymore).  In fact, you didn’t really tell him. He more likely caught you...making out on your couch. He was on Patrol and decided to give you a short visit since you’ve been acting weird lately. Well, you can guess how surprised he was to find Todd’s best friend with his tongue down his dearest sisters throat.  Only thanks to your quick reflexes and you knowing the exact sound your window made when Damian broke in, Roy wasn’t impaled by one of Robin’s  Katanas. Just like Jason, he fought Roy, but other than his brother he really wanted to kill the redhead. How dare he lay a hand on you.  No matter what you did, he kept on fighting, only stopping when you threw yourself between the both of them in a do-or-your-boyfriend-dies-situation. The cut into your side wasn’t deep enough to harm any important organs, but that didn’t keep Roy from fussing over you like you were a freshly-born-baby. He was so close to taking you and carrying you all the way to the manor just so that Alfred could take a look at you and seeing Roy being so worried for you, gave Damian another inside on him. That and the fact that he was so blinded by rage that he did one of the things he swore he’d never do, hurt you, made him overthink his stance.  Now, he may accept the fact that Roy and you were together, but he does! not! accept! Roy himself. He may not fight him anymore, but he sure as hell tries to make the time they spent together hell for Roy. The problem, Roy knows that that won’t ever change, he could be married and have three kids with you and Damian would still basically hate him, and the only other way out, would be to break up with you, but that...well...wouldn’t really help, would it? Nope, he would have an army of Batkids, Batman and a very angry Butler on his butt. But that would not even be the scariest thing for him in this situation. The scariest thing in that situation would definitely be you. If he’d dare to break up with you for something so stupid as your little brother not liking him, you’d f**king end him. 

Steph is ecstatic about you finally having a boyfriend, that said boyfriend is Jason’s best friend doesn’t really change anything for her. She loves to gossip about Roy and talk about all the romantic stuff he does for you. The blonde is just kind off disappointed that you didn’t really tell her. She found out because you made a cute picture of Roy and you kissing and even though you wanted to send it to Roy, you accidentally sent it to her, ‘causing a massive load of messages from her to basically crash your phone. She’s most likely the only one who would, if Roy and you broke up, try to get you back together instead off trying to kill him. 

Cass is confused. What exactly is going on? Why is it such a big deal? While your brothers, your Dad and Alfred are on one side and Steph on the other side of the extreme spectrum, she was pretty much in the middle. She was there for you if you wanted to talk and she was your go-to if you need help for date preparations, but she was also the one who would poison Roy the second he only thinks about leaving you with a broken heart.  She’s also one of the ones who you didn’t really tell that you were in a relationship. While Damian caught you making out and Steph found out through an accidental message, she just came to you and asked you if you were dating Roy, since she noticed the way you looked at each other on the pictures you (Jason *cough* *cough*) uploaded to Instagram. After you confirmed, she just nodded, gave you a weird hug, and left. 

Babs found out because Dick told her accidentally on patrol. At first, she was kinda wary, but she trusted Bruce and Dick’s judgement and being the supportive mom-friend she was, came to you and talked to you about...uhm...the importance of...consent. That was a conversation you’d never ever forget, even though you wished you could. It was nice to know that she was there for you, but there are some things you’d rather keep to Roy and yourself. 

Duke was one of the first ones to find out. The day after your “little” drunken fight, you and he had a new-brother-sister-lunch date and he noticed how happy you were and how you basically glowed. It didn’t even take him ten minutes before he got you to tell him about Roy and your new relationship and even though he hadn’t been your brother for very long, the bond between you and him was one of the more loving ones for him inside the family. So he was really happy that you were happy but other than your other brothers, he didn't have an already made murder-plan for the worst-case-scenario. He, Steph and Babs would be the ones to console you in case the breakup is a messy one.

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Catching Feelings 4/? (Keanu x OFC)

Summary: AU in which Keanu is down on his luck after he comes to  Hollywood  trying to be an actor. To earn some money, he joins this app for   escorts and meets Steph, a rising star who hires him to try to forget   her ex. Neither of them are expecting to fall in love and all the   problems it brings. Previous chapters: 1 2 3

Author’s Notes: Once again, thank you for all the lovely feedback. They really make my day. Here we are with a new chapter. Let’s get on with the angst.

Wordcount: 3146

Warnings: smut (unprotected sex; prostitution).

His new jeans were still a little uncomfortable tight and the t-shirt felt a little itchy even if the fabric was soft against his skin and, as Keanu looked at himself in the mirror of the bathroom, he couldn’t understand how he looked so different when he was wearing the same type of clothes he always did.

Maybe it wasn’t about looking different but feeling it. The fabric covering his body right now cost more than two months of rent for his apartment and that was a strange thing to know. Also strange was the fact that Steph bought all of this for him in a blink of an eye, without hesitation or asking him anything in return. Keanu didn’t know what to do with that. Only that it didn’t feel right. It felt like he was taking advantage of her, of her kindness and it made him feel like a piece of shit.

“Ke, you’re ready?” she called out and he smiled at the nickname. He loved how it sound in her voice.

“Yeah,” he combed his fingers through his hair one last time, before stepping out of the guest room, jacket hanging from his arm.

He found Steph sitting on the couch while putting on her ankle boots. She was dressed in a short black dress that hung above her knees and accentuated her gorgeous curves and he felt the familiar stirring of arousal in his belly. He could just flip her skirt and fuck her senseless right there on the couch.

“I know that look,” she said with a smirk as she stood. Even in heels, she was so much shorter than him. ��Not yet, lover boy.”

She grabbed the tweed coat that was laying beside her and led the way to the garage and threw him the car keys, which Keanu caught more out of reflex than anything.

“Can you drive, please? I hate doing it in heels.”

Keanu nodded, getting the door for her, before sliding onto the driver’s seat of her Audi, hands caressing the soft leather of the wheel as he admired the vehicle.

“Do you want me to give you two a moment?”

“Sorry,” Keanu replied with a chuckle, starting the engine and groaning as it purred to life. This was one hell of a machine.

“Are you sure? I think this car is turning you on more than I do,” Steph teased as she got the gate open and Keanu flashed her a grin.

“Nothing turns me on more than you do,” he assured, maneuvering the car into the street and Steph smirked.

“That’s good,” she said, turning her body his way and glancing at Keanu under her lashes. “Because the car didn’t forego its underwear just so you could fuck it in the club’s restroom.” She pulled her skirt up high enough so Keanu could catch a glimpse of her dark curls, before she pulled it back again, smoothing the fabric over her legs.

“Fuck Steph!” he hissed, his dick throbbing in his pants. “You can’t just do and say stuff like that when I’m driving.” She just chuckled in response, looking out the window.

“I’ll be good from now on. I promise.”

Steph did keep her word and dinner was a quite pleasant affair. They talked and laughed and ate some delicious dishes that Keanu couldn’t name for the life of him. He had only one glass of wine through the night so he could drive without breaking the law, while she worked her way through some of the sommelier’s suggestions.

Keanu cut her off after the third glass because her eyes were getting a little glazed and her speech slurred. If it was up to him, they would go straight home – and he didn’t want to think over the fact that he was thinking of her house as home – but Steph insisted that she was perfectly fine and still wanted to go out dancing.

He helped her back into her coat and tucked her closer to his body as they walked through the small mob of paparazzi waiting for her outside. Keanu was nearly blinded by all the flashes and questions shouted, but he managed to get her safely inside the car without any incidents.

“You’re ok?” she asked as he pulled the car into traffic, hand rubbing circles on his thigh. “I know how that can get overwhelming.”

“I’m fine, babe. A little blind,” he joked, making her chuckle, but it was weak. “You hate it, don’t you? That part? The lack of privacy?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” she sighed, looking out the window. “It makes me wonder if it’s all worth it sometimes.”

“Do you love what you do?” Keanu asked and Steph nodded, glancing at him as he caught her hand and squeezed lightly, making her smile. It actually reached her eyes this time around. “Then it’s worth it.”

“Thanks, Ke.”

Things went a lot easier in the night club Steph led him to. It was pretty exclusive and the bouncer waved them in as soon as he spotted her. They dropped off their coats and she led him straight to the bar, opening up a tab and asking for a shot of tequila.

“You’re sure you want to go straight for the hard stuff?” Keanu asked, shouting over the pounding beat of electronic music.

“Yes!” Steph declared, sprinkling salt on his hand, before licking it, swallowing her shot and sticking the lime in her mouth with a wince and head shake and Keanu just chuckled, ordering himself a beer, before following her to the dance floor.

They danced most of the night. Well, Steph danced, Keanu stood close to her, swaying awkwardly from side to side. It made her giggle and pull him closer, trying to guide his movements with hands on his hips, but without much success.

She pressed her back against his chest, grinding against him and Keanu swallowed hard, mouth going dry and skin even more overheated in the bad illuminated club. He knew she was doing it on purpose by the way Steph pushed her ass against his crotch, bringing his hands to her thighs. Better men than Keanu would get a hard-on from that.

“I need a sec,” he said in her ear, feeling the vibrations of her laughter before he pulled away and headed for the restroom, washing his face with cold water to try to get himself under control.

Once Keanu was sure he was ok and his dick was under control, he checked his phone, noticing a few missed calls from his bandmates. He texted his apologies, promising to be at rehearsal tomorrow, before pocketing his phone and heading back into the club.

A small wave of panic caught him when Keanu didn’t spot Steph right away. She had a little too much to drink and was vulnerable to creeps. He should never have left her side. He was there to take care of her, keep her safe.

“Hey buddy,” he called out to the bartender, catching his attention. “Did you see the girl I was with?”

“Steph?” he asked, and Keanu should’ve known she was a regular there. He nodded and the bartender gestured over Keanu’s shoulder. He turned around to look, catching sight of Steph arguing with her ex at the balcony of the VIP area.

Keanu made a beeline to the stairs, worry increasing by the second, but was stopped at the stairs by a bouncer.

“Sorry pal, can’t go up without a bracelet.”

“My…” he hesitated, unsure of how to describe Steph. “Friend is up there.”

“Sure, they are,” the bouncer snorted in disbelief, blocking the way, arms crossed over his chest. Keanu took a moment to evaluate the situation. He could probably take this guy, even if he wasn’t much of a fighter but that would get too much attention and he knew that was the last thing Steph wanted.

With worry still twisting his guts, Keanu stepped back his gaze shifting to the couple in the VIP lounge. What had looked like a heated argument moments ago had shifted into an intimate conversation. Kevin was crowding her space; his hand tracing patterns on Steph’s arm as he spoke in her ear. Jealousy burned in the pit of his stomach and something in his chest ached.

Keanu had been so stupid to let himself believe this thing between them could be anything more than some adventure to her; some crazy fun. Hire a hooker, sleep with him while she was on a break with her boyfriend. Maybe even let herself be photographed so he could see and be jealous. Keanu meant nothing to her, and he should’ve known.

He snorted at his own naivety and moved away, grabbing his jacket on his way out. The cool drizzle falling made him hug himself as he hailed a cab. When Keanu got inside the car, he thought he heard his name being called out, but ignored it.

---

In the first couple of weeks, Steph would send him requests every day. They hadn’t shared phone numbers and the Mars and Venus chat was only available when both parties accepted the transaction. So, Keanu kept refusing it until she gave up; even if it broke his heart every time he got a new notification and saw it wasn’t her.

Keanu shoved the clothes she bought him to the back of his closet and made sure to keep himself oblivious to any news that featured her. He blacklisted her name on his google news notifications and avoided all gossip magazines whenever he stopped by the newsstand to buy himself some cigarettes. If Steph’s face showed up on his TV, he made sure to change the channel as quickly as he could.

Instead, he threw himself into his band and work. He upped his price again on Mars and Venus and Keanu really thought that would make his requests drop, but it only seemed to encourage these women. Like Scott had told him, they were mostly older, some widowers or divorcees who wanted a company for the night or something pretty one their arms for an event. Every once in a while, a married one would hire him to make her husband jealous.

Keanu made clear from their first interactions in the chat that he wouldn’t sleep with them and most of them accepted his conditions. Some still tried to seduce him, but he remained adamant even if he felt attracted to them. He was never good at keeping feelings away from sex so he couldn’t let himself be vulnerable to what happened with Steph.

After a month, he had made enough to get himself a better apartment and moved away from the one he had shared with Scott. Keanu was even managing to send some money back home, help his mom and sisters a little. He didn’t feel as awkward about being an escort anymore and got quite apt at hiding his face whenever he was out with a client in an event and someone happened to snap a picture. Keanu liked to keep his anonymity.

He still worked at the bike shop, more out of habit and love for bikes than actual need and Dogstar finally managed to record their first demo. Now they only needed a producer to give them a chance.

With all that was going on in his life, Keanu managed to push Steph mostly out of his mind. She still haunted his dreams, but there was nothing he could do about that. It wasn’t all that surprising that he was caught off guard when Gard called out his name one day, holding the phone against his chest.

“Ke, there’s a woman on the phone wanting to talk to you about a bike.”

Figuring it was just a customer he had helped in the shop, Keanu didn’t think twice about answering with a quiet greeting.

“Hi,” she breathed out and it was enough to make his heart hammer against his chest. “Please don’t hang up. I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“How did you get this number?” Keanu asked, his voice breaking a little and Gard shot him a worried look.

“I researched all bike custom shops in Los Angeles until I find one owned by a Gard,” Steph explained, and he could hear the small sad smile in her voice. “I know you don’t want to see or talk to me, but your bike has been sitting in my garage for a month and I know how much it means to you so I just wanted to know if you want me to arrange it to be sent to Gard’s shop or…”

“No,” he cut her off, squeezing his hand into a fist to keep it from shaking. “I’ll pick it up. Can I?”

“Of course, Keanu. It’s yours,” Steph replied with a sigh. “I’m leaving for France in a couple of weeks until then…”

“I’ll pick it up tonight,” he said running his fingers through his hair. Keanu should just get this over with. “Is eight, ok?”

“Sure.”

Keanu hung up without saying goodbye, dropping the phone and rushing to the restroom, dry heaving on the toilet as his lungs struggled to catch a breath. He thought he was over this. Over her. Apparently, he had been wrong.

At eight, Keanu stepped out of the cab in front of a house he thought he would never see again. His hand shook as he pressed the call button on the intercom, hearing the electric buzz of the lock releasing. Steph saw him through the security camera and let him in without a word.

His foot felt like they weighed a ton as he crossed the red brick pathway to her front door, which was pulled open before he could even reach the porch. Keanu froze at the sight of Steph standing there, oversized t-shirt – his he realized – and dark leggings, her hair falling messily around her round face, her brown eyes sad and hesitant as she watched him.

And he knew he was going to regret it later but he stalked towards her, hooking an arm around her waist and catching her lips in a kiss. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs coming around his waist as he lifted her up and pushed her against the wall, kicking the door shut with his heel.

Their kisses were hard and frantic, almost bruising as they all but tore each other’s clothes off, hands desperate to find skin they craved for. Keanu dipped his fingers inside her panties, spreading her wetness over her folds before his fingers pushed inside her, making Steph gasp and claw at his shoulders. He hissed against her neck, biting at the tendon, his cock throbbing and aching for her.

“I need you inside me,” Steph gasped, tugging at his hair to make him look at her. “Right now.”

“I don’t have any condoms with me,” Keanu said, rubbing at her clit to make her moan and rock her hips.

“I don’t care,” she whimpered, pulling him closer again for another hard kiss. “Just fuck me, Ke.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he grunted, her tone making him just as desperate for her. He pulled his fingers away from her cunt long enough to rip her underwear away and line himself against her opening.

They moaned together as he pushed inside, the feel of her walls quivering and stretching to accommodating him, hot and wet and so goddamn tight nearly driving him to the edge.

Keanu held her against the wall, his hands probably leaving bruised on her soft skin as he supported her weight and started to thrust into her.

Steph groaned, her hands grabbing at his hair, squeezing to the point of pain as she gasped and panted against his mouth and Keanu could taste the wine in her lips as their breaths mingled together and he swallowed her curses and praises.

“Yes, Ke. Just like that,” she pleaded, head thudding against the wall as he sped up his movements. “You’re gonna come inside me, babe? Fill me up?”

“Fuck yes!” he grunted, and she bit on his lip and ran her tongue over to soothe the sting. “I wanna see my cum dripping out of you.”

Steph whimpered again, her hand sneaking between their bodies to swirl her own clit and Keanu could tell she was close by the needy little cries and the way her walls were squeezing him. He was nearly at his limit too, pleasure building on the base of his spine and making his body hypersensitive and his movements uncoordinated.

“I’m gonna…” he warned, thrusting a couple of more times before his climax made his vision white-out for a second and he almost missed the way Steph moaned his name as she came too, cunt pulsing around him deliciously.

Keanu locked his knees together, his thighs quivering with the effort of keeping himself and Steph upright. He gulped huge gasps of breath as she ran her fingers through his sweaty hair almost soothingly.

“Let’s go to bed,” she invited, pressing soft little kisses over his face and Keanu sighed. He wanted to say yes. He really did.

“I can’t. I have a client.”

“Oh.” Steph’s eyes clouded for a second before she looked away from him and nodded. “Better put me down then. You don’t want to be late.”

“No,” Keanu sighed, letting go of her legs so she could stand on her own. “Can I…?” he gestured towards her bathroom and she nodded, still not looking his way.

He felt like a jerk as he cleaned himself up and tucked himself back into his jeans. When Keanu stepped out, Steph had put his shirt back on, but he could still see the evidence on their desperation on the marks on her neck.

“I’m sorry,” he said touching his own neck and she shrugged.

“They’ll fade,” she said, leading the way to the garage where his bike was parked right next to her car, the keys inside his helmet.

“I wasn’t getting back together with him, you know?” Steph said, starting Keanu. “He tried to sweet-talk me, but I knew he was only doing it so I could put a good word for him with Fincher. Which I wasn’t gonna do.”

“Oh,” Keanu said dumbly, guilt making bile rise to his throat and he swallowed around the painful lump and looked away. “You deserve better anyway.”

“I know,” she nodded and stepped up to him, kissing his cheek so gently and affectionately, it brought tears to his eyes. “Goodbye, Keanu.”

He didn’t manage to say anything in response before she had the garage door open for him. Keanu looked at her one last time, his throat blocked by sorrow as he put on his helmet and sped away from her house and her life. Or so he thought.

xxx (tbc) xxx

go to part 5

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[incoherentbabblings]

Take Back the Cake, Burn the Shoes, and Boil the Rice (4/11)

Within two months there have been two murders of Gotham newlyweds moments after the ceremony. The only connecting factor was both brides wore the same designer’s work. Needing to establish who exactly is behind the crimes, Bruce enlists Tim and Stephanie to have the biggest wedding Gotham high society has seen in decades, putting a target on their heads not just for the killer, but Gotham society too. It goes about as well as you’d expect. Ao3 Link Here!

Tim had no idea there was such a market for wedding planners. He imagined most people planned it themselves. Stephanie had made the very valid point that neither of them had time. Apparently, because she maybe still hated herself a little, she chose possibly the most ridiculous looking woman who came at an equally ridiculous price tag.

“Why’d you choose her?” Tim asked, as the two paced back and forth in one of the drawing rooms of Wayne Manor.

Stephanie was picking a hanging nail. “She had stupid glasses.” She muttered. “Her website screamed ostentatious. That’s what we want right?”

“Well yeah but –”

Alfred opened the door for Mrs van Dijk, and Tim couldn’t help but mutter a curse at the sight of her. Stephanie caught Alfred’s face as he shut the door, to which she noted he seemed quite relieved to be rid of the woman.

Bottle eyed didn’t do it justice. Her glasses seemed an inch thick, and they took up half her face. Humongous brown pupils peered through at Tim as Stephanie very quickly made her way over to him, holding onto his shirt and showing off the ring. Mrs van Dijk’s clothes were seemingly made from rags, and various bits draped across the floor. Her nose was tiny, upturned and pointy. Her teeth were too big for her mouth. She grinned maniacally at the sight of the young couple. She herself somehow looked sixty and thirty at the same time.

Stephanie had picked a winner surely.

“Oh, how happy I am to meet you! I thought for sure I was being pranked when you rang me!” She looked and wandered around the room, utterly fascinated. “And at Wayne Manor no less. I am the luckiest person in the world… Do you mind if I just put my bags here?” The four assorted totes and satchels and rucksacks seemed a bit excessive to Tim, but he nodded, not quite sure what to say. She slapped them down with a delighted squeal.

Nails on a chalkboard. Tim smiled, baring his teeth as they clenched together uncomfortably. Stephanie stepped in, being on the ball for once.

“Thank you for agreeing to help us! And on such short notice too.”

“It’s going to be a rush to get everything done in time.” Tim confirmed.

They all sat down, but then Mrs van Dijk decided she was too far away and stood up. She settled in between Tim and Stephanie, both of whom flinched at having a stranger be so close. They flinched again when she took a hand each and tugged them onto her lap, a little pile of happy hands. Happy sweaty hands. Tim shivered up his spine, and Stephanie’s left leg spasmed at the uncomfortableness of it all.

“I have had a think the past two days.” Van Dijk said earnestly. “You said, Stephanie, you wanted the grandest wedding Wayne money could provide.”

“Yup.”

“I am going to work a little unconventionally. A little traditionally. But you two are the most important clients of my career. I will give you the world.”

“…Thanks.” Tim responded lamely.

“In my thoughts, I see the Cathedral.”

Neither Tim nor Steph were religious.

“I see gold and white.”

Neither were colours they wore nor sought out.

“Carnations for flowers.”

Carnations were for funerals. Tim and Stephanie knew this very well.

“I see the reception here, in the gardens.”

The weather was never good enough to guarantee any event outside.

“And your gown…”

There, Stephanie could not cave in. “I want Rebecca Andrews.”

“Oop! Pardon?” By now word had spread that she was a cursed designer.

“I have my heart set on her you see… Ever since I was younger.”

“…But I… I brought books!” She threw their hands off her lap, Tim rubbing his freed palm against his trousers as the woman fumbled through the tote, tugging out three lever arch files.

“Oh wow… you really prepped for this.”

“I told you! I will give you the world.” And then she sat down, tossing one folder to Tim, and one to Stephanie. Slapping her own open, Mrs van Rijk flipped through pages until she found examples to show Stephanie.

“See? Oh, Mr Wayne wouldn’t you die to see her in this?”

Tim struggled not to swear. “Oh boy.” He said instead.

That seemed too many ruffles for one human body.

Stephanie blinked, and agreed. “No no. I’m sorry, but this is the one area I must put my foot down.”

“…Even though…”

Stephanie smiled reassuringly, and confirmed, “Even though.”

Mrs van Rijk stared at the huge taffeta construction and sighed sadly. “One day I will get a bride in one of these… Nevermind. I will arrange an appointment with Ms Andrews. Funny lady that one.” As she put the folders back, Tim shot Stephanie a look which amounted to kettle meet pot.

Otherwise, they went with whatever this lady suggested. The only thing both Tim and Steph genuinely liked the idea of was a lemon cake rather than a fruit cake. They told themselves that because it maybe wasn’t even going to reach the altar, what they wanted didn’t really matter. Details were details. What mattered was ensuring they were a target.

Stephanie proceeded to go on a coffee date with Cassandra, who gave the evils in her characteristic manner to anyone creeping to close, and a trip to the arcade with Damian, who grumbled and pretended to shoot a photographer with one of the guns for a zombie shooting game, until Stephanie called him over with the food she had bought him. Tim uploaded an old photograph of them when they were fifteen to his social media pages. Bruce mysteriously went to visit Crystal’s hospital when she was on shift, ensuring that she was seen chatting the Mr Wayne. The picture that went in the news was not the most flattering of Mrs Brown – her expression was nothing short of mystified and in awe that Gotham’s favourite child was talking to her – but it served the same goal as the other outings.

The family was doing everything they could to prove that Stephanie was not just someone out of the blue who had stepped into the role of fiancée for Tim. She was a Gotham girl through and through, her mother worked an admirable job, she was known by the family and spent time with them independent of Tim…Older photos began to be circulated. Old school photos when they both attended Gotham Heights were circulated, as was the fact that she was a student in her final year of Gotham College who volunteered at the clinic on Park Row, just around the corner from Tim’s social housing redevelopment project.

Don’t think of this girl as an upstart, they were practically begging, she’d been a part of Tim and Cassandra and Damian and Bruce’s lives long before anyone cared. Tim, who actually braved reading comments and replies, noted that, for the most part…well they weren’t flat out insulting her. Or him.

For the most part.

That counted for a lot.

Though some of them…

Thankfully Bruce and Dick over many years had cultivated a stock image of a slightly batshit (hah) bonkers family that only seemed to grow with the years in equally odd members. Off kilter, sure, but overall a good family. Thank goodness for Gotham stereotypes.

Next step in becoming a target – an engagement photo shoot.

Tim was not even aware these were a thing, but found himself standing in a full suit a mere three days later. Images to be posted amongst societies circles and to be sent with rsvp invitations. This had been it’s own conflict. None of their superhero friends has been invited, but indeed to everyone, this was for real. Tim had ignored the Titans for days at this point, unable to explain what was going on. There was no pithy explanation.

He had been given a black tux, a dark red suit, a navy shirt and chinos, and a pot of hair gel to style himself. Stephanie, meanwhile, was upstairs, with a veritable army of beauticians, hairdressers and too many dresses to count.

It was raining, because of course it was. But the photography studio had insisted on going forward in the manor gardens.

“We can make it look real Austen and shit.”

Tim really didn’t understand the man’s reference. Said man was holding a camera with a very large lens that Tim suspected wasn’t necessary for this kind of shoot. He had sunglasses on, despite the weather, so Tim knew he was very cool. The four assistants who had been with Stephanie trotted down the stairs, moving quickly to set up lighting. All four looked a little dissapointed, but whatever reason Tim didn't understand.

"Okay?" He asked.

One got in Tim’s face and began fixing his hair. He instinctively flinched away from a stranger in his personal space, but quickly smiled apologetically and allowed her to resume. His gut churned from enduring the uncomfortable closeness.

"It's fine. We just... she's been hurt quite bad hasn't she?"

Tim flinched completely away. It seemed the look in his eyes was enough to make the lady look to the floor, and find something else to work on. Tim's protectiveness was flaring, and he knew it was making others uncomfortable. But he also doubted it was as uncomfortable as Stephanie was having strangers examine her body like that.

“Am I okay to come down now?” Stephanie’s voice drifted in from the top of the staircase, providing a welcome distraction.

The man (Tim couldn’t for the life of him remember the name) immediately became effusive.

“Of course, princess! Let’s see you. You’re in the red dress, right?”

“…Yeah.”

She poked her head around the corner and stared at Tim. She sighed sharply at how handsome he looked. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “Can I hold onto you walking down? It’s a lot of skirt…”

Tim didn’t care that she was blatantly lying. He hopped up to the top step, holding out his hand for her to take. When she did take, still half hidden behind the wall, Tim felt her trembling. He looked at her inquisitively.

“My scars…” Was all she could say. She was bent over, blonde hair curled to look like Sleeping Beauty’s. The assistants who had done her hair had made the decision to have it all down in order to hide her upper back, shoulders, collar and arms. She was wearing flowers in her hair, and her makeup made her look otherworldly. Tim realised it was all to draw attention upwards, away from her torso.

Tim squeezed her fingers. Stephanie as a rule did not show skin... not since Black Mask.

“You wore that purple dress, remember? The one I got you? That showed more skin.” He tried to remind her, so she could logic her way up to being confident in the beautiful dresses.

She only shook her head, and he could see her eyes growing frenetic with an increasing panic.

“No-one was paying attention, not like this. People are going to see me.”

He stepped closer, creating a bubble around them that made Steph’s breathing quieten, and her back straightened. Saying she was beautiful wasn’t going to work. Some of her scars, little that he had seen, were not beautiful. He wouldn’t lie to himself and say they were. Stephanie was beautiful; the injuries, the torn skin, the white shiny scars, the mangled puckered wounds… there was no beauty in the experiences that created them. No amount of sweet talking would convince her nor the world of it. But that didn’t mean she was lesser for it. Not even close. He stared straight into her eyes, praying he looked reassuring.

“It’s okay.”

She nodded, and gently, encouragingly, he tugged her forward into the viewpoint of the photography team. It was a strapless crimson gown, with a sweetheart neckline and a large wide skirt that made her waist tiny. The photographer hissed. She looked lovely, but some scars shined in the artificial light. It was going to make tidying up the images awkward.

“Oh.” He stated. Stephanie immediately hid behind Tim, feeling humiliated. “Do we want to hide these in post? Or are we drawing...”

Tim glared in an intensely threatening manner, and the man coughed, correcting himself.

“Doesn’t matter. You both look like royalty. Every time I do one of these shoots… but this must be one of the best.”

His team twittered like little birds in agreement. Stephanie struggled not to roll her eyes at the weak save.

Shots were taken of them walking down the stairs, though Stephanie did manage to trip of the final step, crumpling in a heap on the floor. The man had ensured she was okay, then demanded she remain there. Tim was forced to sit behind her, two or three steps up.

“Fix her hair and dress.” The man commanded. Immediately her position was altered, and her hair was pulled to cover certain patches of skin. Her breathing wobbled.

She wasn’t good enough.

A little off put by having so many people fuss over her, Stephanie reached upwards. Tim gave her his hand, and then quickly, unthinkingly, pressed a kiss to the back of her head. He watched as goosebumps trailed up her back, and he cursed himself a little for even attempting to comfort her.

“Oh!” Shouted the man. “Hold that. Her ring looks good.”

There were four outfits and locations in total – the strapless red gown for Tim’s black tux in the main staircase being the first. For the Thomas Wayne’s library Stephanie perched herself on a leather loveseat armrest, sitting awkwardly and slightly off to the side in her insecurity. Tim had his bowtie removed and three buttons undone, to which he promptly redid one. Stephanie was changed into an off the shoulder green dress with sleeves that split open to expose her arms and hit the floor. The gown had such a deep neckline that Tim’s eyes were drawn to a white scar that went up her sternum. She caught him looking and hissed like an angry cat, unsure if he was staring at her chest or the wound. The golden gown, the one that looked like rays of sun, for the shots in the conservatory was beautiful, but again, Tim could see she was growing increasingly uncomfortable with both the attention and exposure. Repeatedly for couple shots she would start to migrate behind Tim, half hidden away until called out and forced forward. Tim found he couldn’t say anything in front of the photography crew to comfort her. He kept some part of himself connected to her, hoping the touch would ground her. Obviously this was not an option for the solo shots.

She seemed much happier with the final dress. A shorter purple dress with feathers all along the hem. It had a high neck and long sleeves. Tim couldn’t help it, he laughed as she brushed through the bird feathers. She shivered in her bare legs though and begged to put on a pair of tights. The man narrowed his eyes, or at least Tim thought he did behind those glasses, but agreed.

“Some posed shots.” He said, staring down into his viewfinder. “Then go frolic outside.”

“Frolic?” Stephanie raised on eyebrow, and Tim mirrored it.

“Outside?”

Tim took off his blazer as he and Stephanie questioned the photographer in between snaps being taken. Steph grabbed a hold of Tim’s shoulder to balance as she zipped up a boot. The rain was coming down as hard as ever.

“Yes. We need some natural shots.”

His assistant opened the double window doors, cold air blasting its way in. Rainwater dripped inside, and Tim shuddered at the fit Alfred would have. The water crept dangerously close to one of the rugs, and even Stephanie made a panicked oomph noise, and she rushed out front into the pouring rain, hoping that the quicker this round was done the sooner these people would pack up and leave and she could return to flat shoes. Her heels were starting to ache to the point of distraction.

Tim rushed out after her, resisting the urge to yell at the frigid water which immediately soaked him to the bone. Stephanie looked back at him, her dress clinging in all the right ways, hair a sodden blanket. She was laughing from the shock of how cold it was.

“I can’t believe you agreed to this?” He yelled over the sound of the rain hitting the paving stones. Stephanie just laughed and held out her arms for him to step into. Her makeup was starting to run, but rather than making her look like a drowned rat, she looked lively and bright. Her face flushed red from the cold, and Tim willingly went straight into her hold.

She brushed his wet hair out of his eyes, grinning at the face she saw underneath. Still so pale, with such dark bruises under his eyes. Still not sleeping well. But he was happy, at least for the moment. She didn’t want her moodiness ruin that for him.

Stephanie couldn’t get that moment of the kiss to her hair out of her mind, nor could Tim stop thinking about the declaration of love and kiss on the lips she had given him last week. They were stumbling in the dark, seeking physical comfort in each other, and both knew how dangerous it was. Simultaneously, and without mentioning it to the other, they resolved to corner the other. Soon.

Until then, when the photographer called for them to kiss, it was Stephanie who cradled Tim’s face and pulled him close. It was the kind of kiss that they made when they were adolescents: enthusiastic, clumsy, but infatuated. Stephanie tried to convince herself that it was just another kiss for the job, like the ones one their dates and engagement dinners, but as always the sharp stab of enjoyment that came with Tim’s smiling kisses made her shiver and doubt. She squished his cheeks and laughed when they broke apart, and when she tried to leave Tim’s hold and playfully pulled her back around her waist, tossing out further into the rain so he could run inside before her.

She collapsed in, ankles a little wobbly, grimacing at the water they had allowed into the room. Tim shut the windows and huffed.

“Perfect.”

Remembering they had been watched, the redness in Stephanie’s skin vanished, and she resumed staring at her feet, shuffling backwards behind Tim.

Hair dripping wet, and conscious that the pair might catch a cold, Tim tried to be genial when he asked if they were done. The man bared his teeth and he flipped through the images. He didn’t look totally satisfied.

“I don’t know… Can we go for some more artsy stuff? You guys got a ballroom, right? You two are such a good pair…I just want some more to play around with.”

Stephanie stumbled in her shoes, growing more tired by the moment. Tim began to shiver. One of the assistants not so subtly nudged the man, letting him now his time was up.

Bruce in one his blessed moments of good timing, had at some point begun watching through the open door to the drawing room, seemed to realise that Tim and Steph had also had enough.

“Thank you, Mr Hare, but I’m going to have to ask you to wrap up. Let my kids dry up.”

Being referred to one of Bruce’s own made Stephanie stare in open shock, whilst Tim looked gratefully at him, giving a small smile.

“Oh.” Said Mr Hare – Tim tried to not feel guilty at not knowing his name for the entire shoot – and finally he took the hint. “No worries. This was a good session! Listen, I’ll send them when their done to van Rijk. She’s a beast, will probably want them tomorrow if I know her.”

Bruce smiled politely and indicated for Alfred to begin showing them out.

Tim’s shivering had grown worse, and Stephanie noticing this, rushed to one of the sofas which had a cream throw resting over the back to cradle Tim within.

“Rub your chest if it’s gets unbearable.” She uttered, “That’s where all the important bits are.”

Tim smiled, teeth chattering. “Minus a spleen.”

“Huh?” She looked at him, confused.

“I… Oh. I never told you?”

She tilted her head, gears turning ever so slowly in her head. “That you don’t have a spleen? Tim! You’ll get sicker easier and worse!”

She managed to kick off her shoes and moved in closer, tugging the throw around them both. With the assistants out of the room, Tim grew somewhat warmer knowing she was being genuinely caring in this moment.

“How long ago?” She asked, shifting so she could keep them both somewhat warm.

“Um…” Tim looked at Bruce helping Alfred escort the team of the estate. “When I first went looking for him. Got stabbed.”

Her breath warmed his neck, and her fingers drifted down to where his scar was. She cooed when he twitched as if her touch hurt him, but to Tim it felt like a bolt of electricity had passed straight down his spine. He told himself it was because of the static from the rain and humidity.

Bruce watched the group begin to pack up, both ensuring they had left with all their equipment but also listening to their conversation, trying to not to smile.

“I think…” He interrupted, and the pair jolted at the reminder that someone else was in sight of them. “You both should shower up. Then a quick word with you both.”

Stephanie was the first to break away.

“Can I use Cass’ room?”

“We have a spare room if you want it. We have loads of spare rooms.” Tim hinted.

Steph didn’t take the hint. “Cass’ is fine.”

Bruce, however, did hear the hint, and in a rare moment of paternal ingenuity, decided to throw a little bomb into the mix.

“When is Stephanie moving into your apartment, Tim?”

Stephanie, who had no idea such an idea was on offer, gulped. Tim, also appeared a little thrown.

“I… I…”

“I’ve never even been to your apartment.”

“Well, there’s your chance.” Bruce said. “Now hurry up, before Alfred sees the state of the floors.”

Bruce’s edict was law, and reluctantly Crystal agreed for Stephanie to move out.

When it came to moving in with Tim, Stephanie was surprised how easy it was. She really didn’t own that much stuff to begin with, and Tim had a lot of spare space.

Tim’s apartment, based in Park Row no less, was large, and took up two floors. He seemed awful proud of it. Steph didn’t miss the piano sat in the corner but chose not to comment.

“One of your projects?”

Tim huffed, thinking she was diminishing his efforts with Park Row. He was lifting her suitcases up the stairs. “Well, the redevelopment is as good as I make it… And I live here… so you know, I stand by it being good.”

“Hmm.” She set one of four boxes on the couch. Hard and square, it didn’t lend itself to resting and relaxing. Tim had probably chosen it for the aesthetics more than anything, and was likely cursing himself that he had offered to sleep on it whilst Stephanie took his own bed. Glaring at the obnoxious chandelier which hung down from the open space of the ceiling of the first floor down to just above their heads on the first, she hummed to herself.

“These aren’t…I…”

Tim waited patiently at the top of the steps for her to finish.

“How did you make sure you haven't just gentrified the area?”

Tim put down her suitcases, practically skipping down the steps to get to her level, a little put off with her question. “You worried I kicked poor people out of Crime Alley?”

Stephanie blushed, and defended herself. “Not intentionally.”

“No. Not intentionally. Not unintentionally either.” He scoffed, but before he could turn way, Stephanie halted him.

“How then?”

Tim couldn’t hear the sincerity in her tone, instead he heard patronising accusations. His temper flared unexpectedly. She still could rile him up like no other. “You care?”

As could he to her, apparently. Her blush turned to a flush of red anger, and her defensiveness became aggressive.

“What kind of question is that? Do I care about your job? The unprivileged? Gotham in general?” She waved her hands. “Nevermind. Not if you’re gonna take everything like an attack.”

With a whirl that smacked Tim in the face with her long ponytail, he flinched back and watched her drag another box in. It was too heavy for one person, and she was going to hurt her back in her stubbornness.

“Steph, let me help.”

“I’m fine.”

“Steph –”

“You don’t always need to be so –”

“You know you can accept help from –”

The pair trailed off, both bent awkwardly over a box, glaring at each other. Stephanie was the first to break, groaning in a tantrum and stomping up the steps. She looked down over the railing to Tim looking up at her.

“You honestly don’t have a spare room?”

“No. The other room is an office and a bathroom. It’s just for a few more weeks… I made space in my closet for you.”

“Thanks. Real generous there, Timbo.”

Her sarcasm was biting, and Tim felt the childish urge to stick his tongue out at her. She vanished from sight though, rolling her clothes through to his bedroom. Kicking the box at his feet, his eyes widened in shock at how heavy was, and he stumbled away.

“What she got in here… boulders?”

Dragging it into the hallway, Tim popped outside to see Crystal driving away, the two remaining boxes left at the foot of the steps to the door. They were lighter than the box of bricks, and once they were inside Tim shut the front door. Stephanie was still upstairs, so was likely unpacking her clothes.

Opening the heavy box in some grim determination to be vindicated in its contents, he was instead met with a box filled with stuffed soft toys.

She still held onto them? At the top of was a somewhat familiar teddy bear. She had held onto it and smacked him with it playfully on occasion. When he had visited her to tell her he was having to leave Gotham… when she was pregnant, when she didn’t know his name or anything about his parents or who was behind that mask… all she had known was this boy had – for some unknown reason – chosen to stay with her, to spend time with her. She had taken a lot of convincing over two years it was because Tim genuinely loved her, and it wasn’t out of some Bat driven duty to be kind to those weaker than you. By the time she believed it herself, she had seen Tim kissing someone (someone who she now knew he didn’t want to be kissed by) and everything had gone down the crapper. Seeing that stuffed bear affected him more than he expected.

Resting under it was the duck he had won her the other week. Its silly face peering out from under the other toys made him laugh despite his tense mood.

He picked up both toys and walked up the stairs. In his room, Steph was piling her shoes into a corner of the closet. Tim set the duck down on a table that rested at the foot of his bed.

“You kept this?” Tim asked, waving the teddy.

Stephanie gasped, clumsily pulling herself off the floor, and reached out to take it. Tim snatched it back.

“Give it.” She cried.

“Did you seriously bring everything? I could have helped you pack. Even the toys.”

She seemed increasingly upset, when Tim was only trying to tease. “I’m serious Tim, give it.”

He didn’t give way, so in her frustration, she shoved him. Hard. No damage was done, but the look of horror on her face at becoming physical like that with him made Tim’s stomach drop more than anything.

Her face turned white and she begged, “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

Tim really didn’t know what to do with her constant mood swings, so awkwardly returned her bear to her. She nearly ripped it out of his hands and cradled it reverently.

“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have made fun of you. I just thought it was sweet, that you held onto this stuff.”

In her hands, Stephanie looked down at the bear. When she spoke, it was near a whisper.

“My dad bought it for me.”

“He did?”

“Mmm. When he was… when he was trying to be better.” Her look grew angry then. “I don’t know why I keep it.”

Without thinking, she plopped on her bed, staring at nothing. Tim realised he needed to intervene, and quick. He sat next to her and took one of her hands in both of his.

“We need to talk, I think.”

Dropping the bear, her other hand joined the three. Tim tried not to shiver at the warmth. “Me too.”

“Let’s get the rest of your stuff in, yeah? Is it all for upstairs?”

“I have some photo albums. And a couple of things for the kitchen. Figured you didn’t cook much.”

“Not really.”

She pulled their pile of hands into her lap, her look growing softer by the moment.

“Then I’ll cook tonight? First meal in a new place. Be a good wifey and all that.”

Tim tried not to imagine Stephanie with rollers in her hair, red lips and a frilly apron holding an apple pie. He failed. “Can’t comment on the contents of my fridge.”

“That’s okay.” She stood up, wandering down to the yellow duck. She pinched its orange beak. “Tim?”

“Mm?”

“I am genuinely interested in your work. I’m not being accusatory about that.”

“Thank you, Steph.”

She smiled, but it was sad.

With one box filled with stuffed toys, it truly didn’t take long for Tim to help her move the rest of her stuff into his room. Photos proceeded to take up free surface space, and Tim’s bathroom quickly became filled with so many items for the bath that his mind drifted to the idea of Stephanie. In his tub. In his apartment. He burned red for the rest of the afternoon, his brain not allowing him to let go of her soaking in bubbles.

There was one that smelled like cola candy that he liked, but it was at that point he decided he was being creepy, and wandered back downstairs, to find his fiancée’s head rammed in the fridge.

“Alright there?”

“Garlic…red onion… half a pepper…” Her muffled voice was amused. “Butter… cheese… milk.” She shut the door, hands full of everything except the milk. “Pretty standard student fridge contents huh?”

“I’m not a student.”

“Nah, but you have twenty-year-old brain anyway. We’re all messes.” She looked at the ingredients in her arms. “I can do something with this. You good a stirring?”

“I have movement in my wrists.”

She smiled. “Then grab me a knife, cutting board, pot and frying pan?” When he did, she jerked her head over to the sink. “Fill the pot three quarters up and throw a chunk of salt in. When it boils – two mugs of pasta and stir.”

It was a simple quick dish, but she gave Tim enough instructions to make him feel like he somewhat contributed to the food that she made. Sitting with her at the counter, watching her pile cheese higher and higher into her bowl, made him feel content in a manner he didn’t feel often in his home.

When they were finished, Tim stared into his empty bowl gathering the courage to say,

“We should talk.”

Stephanie beat him to it. Tim picked up the dishes, hand shaking a little.

“I’ll wash up.”

She reached out, fingers wrapping around his wrist gently. If he wanted, he could pull away without being violent, but he held still. Steph looked at him, trying to make him understand.

“It can wait a little bit.”

She was right, but Tim couldn’t shake his nerves. He set the bowls down, then sat back on the stool.

Stephanie’s hand shifted, and then suddenly they were interlocking fingers.

“Tim…” She began, and she was unable to look at him as much as he for her. “How much of this is real for you?”

Tim had told Dick he had wanted her to start the conversation, for her to lead the way, but now when it was happening, Tim moved from nervous to frightened.

“What do you mean?”

The look Steph gave Tim from the corner of her eye was indescribable, but the closest Tim got to giving it a name was pity.

“Do you want to be with me?”

“Do you?”

Deflecting like a wimp. Avoiding conflict. Tim tried to convince himself it was because Stephanie had to be the one to tell him. The moment she was decisive, so would he.

Instead she sighed like she didn’t know what to say. They were still holding hands. Tim began to breathe shallowly.

“Please, Steph. It’s fine if you don’t.”

There was his admission. She knew, she’d always known. But somehow, she had found the talent of laying her cards close to her chest, and he hated it.

“It’s not that.”

Not a denial. Not really an admission either.

“What is it?”

“It’s everyone else. Like, I’ve been getting all these messages all the time from people I haven’t spoken to in ages but then Kara keeps messaging me asking what’s going on. Why I didn’t tell her? Why are her and Conner not invited? But I can’t… I can’t lie to our loved ones about you.”

“Because you…don’t love me. And you don’t want to lie to the people we love that you do.”

He felt hollowed out. He felt like he was hurting her. But she had agreed to this. She didn’t have to. He had given her a way out. So what? She was being a martyr?

“No…No Tim.”

And suddenly Tim could breathe again.

“But don’t you get it? Even if I wanted… we are lying to everyone. How can anything good come from a lie? Especially for us. Where has us lying with each other ever done us any good?”

Oh. She thought they were repeating old bad patterns.                                

“I’m not lying to you.” He said, trying to reassure her. Not once since this whole thing had begun.

“And that’s all that matters?”

“It should. We’re the ones in this…relationship…so that’s all that counts.”

She sighed patiently, like she was explaining something to a child. “Tim, we don’t live in a bubble.”

Tim ignored it, and shamelessly began to beg. His patience had run out. It felt like he was pulling wisdom teeth, that’s how closed off she was being.

“Stephanie. Steph, please. You can’t say it’s a lie when I’ve done nothing but be honest with you. You have to tell me the truth.”

“About what?”

“You said you loved me at dinner.”

“I did.”

“Do you?”

“Of course, I do.”

Tim did not feel any lighter with the admission, nor did Steph look happy to say it.

“When this is over, do you want to be with me? For real? Like I do for you?”

Finally, finally, they looked each other in the eye.

“I don’t know.” Her voice was wet, quiet, and strained, like she was on the urge of crying. She didn’t even sound sure of her uncertainty. Maybe Tim was completely delusional, but he sensed that for all her talks of wanting the truth, she didn’t know what to do with it when it was staring her right in the face.

She was still frightened, and Tim knew it was from every piece of negative and positive attention being flung there way. Like Tim, Stephanie just wanted to be left alone. Unlike Tim, she couldn’t cope with the attention. And he didn’t know how to help her.

She then got up from the table, picking up their bowls to do the washing up. She had gotten what she wanted from the conversation. Tim was being earnest, like he always was. Tim still loved her, like he always had. Tim wanted a real relationship with her, like he had always wanted.

And she had only given him mixed signals in return. Self-loathing bubbled in her gut, which only served to fuel her seemingly growing self-esteem issues. Her anger spiked.

And she’d tried so hard to get over her adolescent insecurities too…

Patrol was waiting, after which Stephanie would spend the night with Cass at the manor, and Tim would return to his apartment, staring at the empty space in his large bed.

Neither slept that night.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

no, i didn’t request it but i do have a request, kinda angsty, don’t do it if you don’t want to, chris and reader dating and someone trying to break them up by making it look like he cheated but he of course wouldn’t and happy ending?💕

A/N- I hope this works! It is a quick one, but angsty imo. Also, beware of toxic “friends” 

These cant be real....

Your scrolling through a message of a close friend sent you. You trusted her, been friends with her for years, so why would she lie to you. Your heart raced, and head pounded as picture through picture just told a story of lies and deceit. Cheating.

He wouldnt, He loves me. He tells me everyday.

And yet... you dont even try to respond to your friend, you toss the phone down and turn away from the offending piece of technology. Tears that brimmed behind your eyes bursting forward in the pain and confusion.

He was to good to be true, you knew you didnt deserve to be happy. Not really.

You sunk onto the bed, your phone buzzing nearby with your friends ringtone, but you just couldnt. Couldnt bring yourself together to answer, instead you hid your face in the pillow and let yourself get lost in your misery, afterwards you would deal with this.

Chris returns home from a quick meeting with his agent, it was actually his time to be home from a break between projects, and he wasnt going to lie, it was needed. He missed you terribly, and you had arranged it to have a few weeks of vacation off with him. Opening the door, he called out “Y/N? baby Im back.” A frown crosses his face when he doesnt hear you respond. “Y/N?” Wandering into the kitchen, nope. Living room. Nope. He heads towards the staircase, when he hears you crying. Frowning, he took the stairs two at a time, and entered your bedroom, to find you curled up on the bed.

“Babygirl what is wrong?” Immediately he went to sit down next to you and you hurriedly wiped tears and sat up to go to a stand, pacing away from him. “Your back early...” You ignore his question, unsure of what to say You still dont want to believe it, it just hurts to much. But Chris isnt just going to let this go, he immediately follows you and takes a hold of your arm to stop you.

“Y/N, look at me” His voice is stern and commanding. You hesitate but pull towards him, looking down. His fingers go to your chin and lift them up to face him.

“I need you to tell me what is wrong.” his eyes searching your face for clues, its hard not to trust those blue eyes of his, they have captured you many times, and what if those were all lies so you didnt know? You mind raced at the different possibilities of how to answer, and he clears his throat to get you out of your head. “Please.”

Giving a shuddering breath out, you try to lower your gaze, but his fingers stay under your chin to keep you focusing on him, not breaking eye contact with you. “I- I got a message. From Steph. Some pictures... “ Your voice breaks a bit and you point to your phone, in which Chris looks at it and picks it up, holding it out to you.

“Do you want to show me what she sent, or do you want to tell me?” Inwards Chris is cussing out Steph, he never trusted the woman. She was always making off hand comments about you, in that ‘Oh im a friend and looking out for you’ way. It had been a fight between you two a few times when Chris brought it up, but you never saw it that way. “Chris, shes my friend, she wouldnt purposely be cruel like that.” Oh baby, you always see the best in people.

This would be it though, the final straw for Chris. If Steph was going to go this far to hurt you, he would do whatever he could to show you how toxic she was, how you didnt deserve this manipulation. You flick your phone to the messages, and turn it to show him. He dropped his gaze from your sorrowed face, and flicked through the pictures. Yes, it did look compromising, cause the bitch must have found them off a fan page. During the photo shoot, some bystanders snuck past security and watched for a few minutes till they were escorted from the premises with promises of being arrested if they returned.  “Son of a bitch... baby, this is from the photo shoot last week for Gucci Guilty.”

You rubbed at your eye a moment and he just as quickly pulled up some pictures from his email, and showed them to you. Sure enough these were clearer, showing his costar for the ad and him in the backseat of a car. It appeared they were in the middle of a lust filled moment. It all clicked and you covered your face as it burned red in your embarrassment.

“Oh god Chris, fuck Im so stupid, I cant believe... “ You droned on in your shame, and he wrapped his arms around you, drawing you in. Kissing your shoulder, he rocked you two lightly.

“Hey, hey its okay baby... we never talked about the photoshoot.” His hands were calming, and you were cussing yourself out for even letting yourself believe what Steph was saying. “I would never ever do something like that to you, I swear.” He tipped your face up to look at him, kissing your tears away slowly. “But we do need to really talk about Steph, this isnt the first time shes tried to mess up what we have, and Im not okay with that. With the way she treats you.”

“She misund-”

“No Y/N. I cant good conscience let you keep defending her.” He settled on the bed and drew you into his lap, still rubbing your back with one hand and along your arm with another. Your hands move to rest against his chest, giving a sigh.

“Chris shes my friend.”

“Yes, she is... and I wouldnt ever ask you to stop being friends with anyone, but this is far more then how I feel about her. Babygirl, Ive seen people do this before. She twists things around, makes it seem like shes a victim all the time so you feel sorry for her. Tells you things for self improvement, that are just not even close to the fucken truth.”

You remain silent, he wasnt wrong, she was always over stepping you whenever you needed a listening voice. Unless of course you and Chris were having troubles of some kind. She loved to listen then. His hand traced your face lightly and you lifted your gaze to him. “You really wish I would end it.”

Chris gave a nod. “I do, but it has to be because you want to remove the negativity baby, not because I want you to. I just dont want to see you hurting like this again, especially since it wasnt even anything. I would NEVER ever hurt you, I love you to much and it kills me to think that it scared you that much.”

“I shouldnt have thought that...” Shamed you look away, and he pulled you in close, kissing your temple.

“Stop babygirl, I dont blame you for it. I know this kind of thing happened to you before, and its not always easy to forget the past. I know we will get past this, and next time we will talk about it like we are now.”

You smile and lean up, cupping his face in your hands, and kissing him deeply, whispering after the kiss. “Thank you Chris... and your right. Its time to let go of the past, nothing but good things for us Handsome.”

You end up cutting ties with Steph, after giving it further thought. She really was a toxic friend, and you are worth more then that which Chris is starting to show you.