(A/N)- Time to RobStar Week baby! Hope everyone is well and staying healthy and is ready for some adorable content.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Gosh I'm sunburned and can't think of anything.

RobStar Week 2020, Day 1 - Star-Aligned/Destiny

He wasn't supposed to be in Jump City.

Everyone he encountered seemed to think so, from the concerned leasing agent renting him the downtown apartment to the lowlife he'd just stopped from robbing the corner jewelry store.

"This isn't your town!" he'd blurted. "Aren't you supposed to be with—?"

Robin ground his teeth, managing to keep most of the frustration off his face.

Yes, he was supposed to be in Gotham, with Batman. But the growing pains of a teenager chafing under adult authority, itching to define himself outside of mentor, to be seen as his own person rather than just an accessory, had led him to break from his hometown and his guardian and make his way across the country to establish himself here.

He wasn't sure why he'd picked this city. Crime rates weren't unusual for a coastline town, lower than average actually, and though there did seem to be a bit of an issue with metahuman monsters and small-time supervillains, it wasn't nearly as dire as Gotham or Metropolis, or anywhere else he might have decided to land.

He couldn't explain it. Something had just drawn him to Jump. Something that told him he was needed here.

That sense grew louder as a blazing green comet suddenly streaked overhead, piercing across the peaceful starlit sky like a flare.

His eyes tracked it, widening. The scenario was already playing out like a familiar movie inside his head—mysterious object crashing from space, some terrible creature or machine emerging from the wreckage, immediately attacking the helpless civilians. It happened almost weekly in Gotham.

As if pulled by an outside urge, he left the lowlife strung up in the ally, inexorably drawn to the plume of green smoke that was now billowing up into the sky.

-TT-

She wasn't supposed to be on this planet.

Starfire stumbled up to her feet, a frightened rhythm beating in her chest. The stench of the Gordanian cell still lingered in her nose. The all-too-recent memories flashed in her mind—screaming furious Tamaranian at her captors, throwing herself against the walls of her cell until she caused the craft to stop its course towards the Citadel.

She didn't know what system they had detoured to, didn't know how far away from Tamaran she was now, how out of reach help was for her. All she'd known was that she had to escape.

She had to get these cuffs off. Had to hide somewhere until she could evade the Gordanians. Had to get home. Back to her parents and her planet and her sister, whom she was sure had been forced to make the exchange to save their people. The fates had ripped her away from them, carried her off to a world unknown, but she was certain if she could just avoid getting captured again long enough, she could slip free, return home, maybe find help.

She thought she might have been making progress on the cuffs when the universe sent another unlucky curveball crashing her way. Something small and metal hit the side of her head, and she whirled around to find the source of the distraction.

She locked eyes with a boy wearing strange clothes. Screaming internally at the goddess for this additional obstacle in her way, she flung herself at him, their futures colliding and entwining with a resounding crash.

-TT-

Arella's head tilted up in the middle of her meditation.

How curious, she thought.

She'd been tracking her daughter's future through ancient magics. She sat as though in a massive void, watching gold and silver threads weaving together in the empty space. Her mind's eye looked around again.

There was her daughter's thread, smokey gray laced with crimson. A thick silver strand dogged the smaller destiny through the void. Trigon. Raven's father. His fate curled around her daughter's like a strangling vine, impossibly intertwined. Arella could see clearly the moment in time when Raven had chosen to flee Azarath, rather than stay and accept her fate as Trigon's vessel—her glowing line had veered off sharply from its original course, pulling away from her father's, desperately grasping out at another path.

She couldn't see the thread's end—it trailed off into a clouded distance—but she could see thin tendrils branching out, snagging in other threads, drawing them closer, pulling them off their paths as well.

Arella peered closer. A little ways into the future, she could see four threads converging with her daughter's. A group of brave boys and a girl, friends twining around Raven's line in a beautiful braid.

But two of the strands were already connected.

As she concentrated, the spinning golden threads resolved into visions of a young man—dark-haired and serious, uncertain and awkward and full of self-doubt—and a young woman—a princess far from home, warm and gentle, possessed of great strength. They came from far apart on the loom, but they braid they formed together was strong, a dazzling line that shot ahead into the uncertain gloom.

Arella chuckled once, solemnly, to herself.

Raven was changing destinies.

But not her own. Not yet.

-TT-

The sunlight beamed down brightly upon their heads. The other three drifted away from the circle, not leaving yet, but still straying away from the two teens now glancing away from each other and fidgeting.

"So, um..." Robin began awkwardly, rubbing his head. "Do you have a place to stay?"

Starfire shook her head. "I do not."

"And... no way to contact your people either, I'm guessing?" he asked.

She gave a sheepish look. "All the long-range communication equipment was destroyed when the Gordanians' ship crashed."

"Right," Robin said, grimacing apologetically. "Sorry about that."

"Do not be," she said, her voice unexpectedly warm. Robin looked up, to see her emerald eyes upon him with a soft expression. "I am... glad that you all came to my rescue." She shook her head again. "I do not know how I can ever repay you."

He reached across for her hand, touching it gently.

"Hey," he said, giving a smile. "It's just what friends do."

Warmth flooded through her heart.

She beamed, softly, brilliantly.

"Friends," she repeated.

And perhaps more, she added in her thoughts, feeling that electric tingle through her chest again, the one that always seemed to spark up around him.

She wondered if he felt it too, as he gazed at her and the way sunlight fell across her face, his skin tickling a faint pink that her new vocabulary supplied as being called a "blush". Their hands were still touching and he didn't seem eager to let go.

They weren't supposed to be here.

They weren't supposed to meet.

They weren't supposed to fall in love.

But they had.