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flusteredloser · 3 years

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subzero - beverly marsh x fem!reader

it fandom week: huddling for warmth

content warnings: mentions of intoxication, smoking, swearing, fire, harmless threats, inhaler abuse, enemies to lovers, also i’m making bev tall bc i love tall gals word count: 3k

at the ripe age of ten years old, you knew you wanted to become a mother. the appeal of bouncing children in your lap, tucking them into bed, and the empowering feeling of calming tantrums down was something you naively believed was your destiny. now, ten-year-old you was never wrong, you knew that. but what you didn’t expect was for your dream to come true at eighteen, stuck mothering six drunken teenage sons during a hailstorm’s power outage.

“edward. kaspbrak. i swear to god, if you do not go to sleep right now i will knock you out with your own inhaler.”

eddie groans at your words, still teeter-tottering towards the mattress. richie was already in bed, practically dead for a past half-hour.

thankfully, he didn’t wake up from his comatose state when eddie gracefully slammed headfirst into the bed. you held your breath as the bed shook under eddie’s weight. drunken eddie was already a nightmare, what more, an even worse nightmare when catalysed with richie’s antics. mike was slightly more useful. after throwing up in almost every sink in the house, he helped carry a very tipsy ben up the stairs and they were now both unconscious down the hall. bill wasn't exactly a disturbance, but he was incredibly determined to show us that he could play the piano right now if asked, that his skills were only heightened after dark. (the fact that bill had never touched a piano in his life, or that bev's apartment didn't even have a piano wasn't stopping him). bev was taking care of them in the other room, and based on the muffled conversation, was still trying to coax bill to sleep. you and bev being the losers’ designated sober pair for tonight was the worst idea that had ever occurred to anyone. ever. the eight of you agreed. if you needed something done, you’d never leave the two of you to do it together. but stan had explained that the rotation required the two of you to pair up tonight, no matter what. you didn’t quite understand the necessity of it but in all honesty, you’d rather put up with bev’s clownery than upset stan further. speaking of, you glance at the lump on the floor, peacefully swaddled and engulfed in the massive duvet. you should probably check on stan’s breathing later.

now, though, you still had one child left.

hearing the sound of an air pump go off from the bed, you walk back to eddie.

“but i’m so cold and i’m not even tired,” said eddie, his inhaler still jammed in his mouth.

“eddie, the power will be back in no time, and if you keep pumping that shit in your mouth, you’re never going to feel tired,” you sigh, taking the aspirator away.

“no, but seriously.” eddie continues, his eyes filled with sleep-deprived mania. “i swear, i’m like wide awake, i don’t even need sleep right now, it’s technically the morning and nO WHAT THE HELL-”

clutching the pump in your hand, you watch the white vapour shoot against eddie’s face. nothing but eddie’s exasperated coughing filled the room.

“i told you, i’m not afraid to use this.”

“i thought...you said...you were going to...knock me out with it,” eddie questioned between coughs.

you narrow your eyes at him, “you keep this up and i will knock you with it.”

“wow, you really are gonna make a great mother someday.” you let out a deep groan, turning to see where the new voice came from. leaning against the doorframe with a lit cigarette between her fingers was bev in all her smug glory.

“you know, after dealing with kaspbrak tonight, he makes you look like an angel,” you roll your eyes.

“hey!” you hear a muffled voice from under the blanket.

“go to sleep, pretty boy,” bev chuckles, some smoke escaping with her laugh, “i know it’s hard after seeing her troll face but you have to try.”

you rolled your eyes again at the two giggles in the room, shuffling around the bed, carefully stepping around stan’s body. you continue to walk past bev and into the hall.

the house was silent. no one lived here anymore but bev since you guys graduated, and since mr. marsh stopped residing here, the apartment had an almost peaceful quality.

walking past the guest room, you grin at the sight of mike, ben, and bill entwined together on the floor. oh, how much tamer this group would’ve been compared to the menaces next door.

you snatch your backpack from the living room sofa and dug through the pockets anxiously. searching against the walls of your bag and still finding nothing, you began to feel more and more nervous. “fucking hell, where is it,” you whisper. at this rate, you weren’t sure if the thumping in your ears was from the sound of sharp hail hitting the windows or your heart beating in your throat. you stand up in a deeper panic, aggressively patting your pockets up and down.

“you know, as entertaining as this is to watch, i almost feel bad.”

“bev..." you sigh. "i am not in the mood."

“why? too busy looking for your pack of camels?” you hear the sound of a familiar cardboard flap opening, “personally, i’m more of a marlboro girl but i mean, these work too.”

you spin around and storm up to bev, snatching the lit cigarette from her lips. “that’s mine?”

she smirks, “you left your backpack open, it was practically an invitation.”

“an invitation for you to go through my shit?” you hissed, dangling the ignited end near her face.

she snatched her cig back and mockingly dangling it back near your face, “yeah, a formal invitation for me to smoke off this monstrosity of a temperature. what do you want, an apology too? i can write you one asap, let me find bill’s notebook-”

taking the cig back once more, you snap. "you’re such an ass, bev.”

she grins, following closely behind you. she could feel the heat radiating off of your body, and she secretly hoped you’d accidentally stop in your tracks so she could run into you. in the name of transferring body heat and what not. shaking off these thoughts that were hijacking her brain, she makes a kissy sound, “c’mon, you know you love it.”

“mmhm sure, bev. because i’m really into girls stealing my shit.”

pinching the flame from the cig and dumping it in the tray, she leads the both of you into the supply closet. she chuckles as she leans against the doorway, leaving you feeling trapped in the tight room. you knew she was laughing because you insisted on going in first and now that you were the one having to get the stuff, but you didn’t quite register that the things you needed was on the top shelf. up high stood a high stack of blankets. and they looked like they could singlehandedly cure the subzero temperature.

clearly, you must have been looking up at the blankets for a moment too long because bev gave up and leaned forwards to grab the stack. the sensation of her flushed against your back was enough to make you dizzy, not to mention how absolutely warm she was. and of course... it was bev.

bev. the girl who you rolled your eyes at every day, the girl who taunts you at any given minute, the girl you would, and had, risked your life for. you guys never talk about neibolt, but sometimes you catch yourself thinking of what could have happened if it went south. if you hadn’t grabbed her in time, and if you didn’t switch places just before pennywise launched at you... absentmindedly tracing the scar down your stomach, you think of the absolute lack of regret you feel to this day. you always had this joke that you wanted to kill her, but how much of that was true?

“darling, did the cold already go and rot your brain?” bev faux-pouts, “not that there was much to begin with, but i’m still worried.” the stack of blankets was now under her arms with one stretched out as she began to wrap it around herself.

never mind. sometimes you did want to kill her.

by habit, you went on your tip toes in order to get to bev’s face, but she was already crouched a couple inches from your face. trying to keep your racing heart under wraps, you choke out a semi-convincing “don’t make me murder you, beverly.”

she grins back your serious face. "aww no, i couldn’t let you do that. the knives and other weapons are also stored up there.” she teases, slinging her arm around your shoulder and dragging you to deliver the blankets to the boys.

"oh, fuck off." you shove bev's arm off of you and walked back into richie, eddie, and stan's room. true to your word, you kneeled down to the floor and gently rolled stan’s head towards you. placing your two fingers against his pulse point, you giggle to yourself at the absurd action. if it wasn’t already obvious that he was indeed alive, he groans under you, but you shush him in time. lightly stroking his curls, you whisper. "i’m just checking up on you, stan,” placing the second blanket onto him. he groaned back.

quietly tip-toeing towards the bed, you tossed the other blanket over richie and eddie. “i swear, these guys would be dead already without us.” you laugh to yourself.

a dim light flickers from the living room and casts a light across the hall. you shut the door behind you as you leave, going into the living room to see bev on the sofa, engulfed in her own large fleece blanket. the only thing peeking out was her face and hands as her she alternated flickering her lighter's warmth on her fingers.

without thinking, you plop by her on the sofa. “whatcha doing there, you pyro?”

“it’s getting so fucking cold,” bev half-heartedly jokes. you can see her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, but her voice was so contradictingly soft it made your heart melt.

you extended your open hand to her and she stared at it. “blood oath part two? promise to never be sober again during a powercut?”

“i wish, and shut up. don’t play dumb with me, beverly.”

you notice the slightest tinge in her cheeks as she places her hand along with her lighter in yours. you immediately recoil at her freezing fingertips and the lighter clatters to the ground. bev rolls her eyes and shifts away, “first you want to hold my hand, secondly you’re acting like i have fucking HIV.”

“firstly, smartass, i’d still hold your hand if you had HIV-”

“aww-”

“because it’s a blood-borne pathogen so unless you bleed or shit or lactate on my hand, i’m safe.”

bev’s face scrunches up. “how romantic.”

“now shut it and give me your hand already.” you say, placing your palm out for her again.

now bev is the one rolling her eyes at you for a change. she gives you her hand, much slower this time though, careful not to have you pull away again. not having you pull away? why was this something she was considering?

immediately, bev felt the heat from your skin radiate against hers’, instantly igniting her skin in goosebumps. she instinctively gave you her other hand and you take with a soft smile.

“now...why the hell are you built like a goddamn radiator.” bev grumbled, rubbing her hands together under yours.

“well, i don’t see you complaining, do i?” you raise your eyebrows.

“i’m not mad...it’s just that it’s not like you need it,” bev says between chuckles, “you’re like five feet tall. not exactly a lot of surface area to heat up.”

“you’re such a dick, bev. you’re losing your hand-holding privileges,” you side-eye, pulling your warm fingers away.

she gasped, “oh, don’t you dare.”

“yes, i do. it’s not like i’m dying to feel your freezing hands on me, bev.” you desperately try to make the statement sound as sarcastic as you can, but it ends up coming out much shakier than expected.

even in the dark, you can see the glint of bev’s mischievous grin. “oh really? you don’t want to feel my freezing hands?” “is that a trick question?” you sigh exasperatedly, “because if you as much as-”

suddenly, you feel bev’s ice-cold fingers press against the skin on your ribcage and you immediately squeal. you clamp your hand over your mouth at the scare, you try and contain the others sounds that escape you as she further presses her freezing hands against your warm skin. scrambling away from her grasp, you slap the back of her head.

“you stop that right now or i will leave you on your own porch to freeze,” you threaten through gritted teeth.

“mmhm, like you would.” she teases, continuing to press the pads of her still-cold fingertips into your stomach.

you felt your heart rate rise significantly, to the point that you were sure that your unknown warmness was actually due to bev making the blood pump 10x more than normal. every braincell swimming inside your head was on the brink of short-circuiting at the feeling of bev’s hands dancing along the edge of your bra. what the hell is she thinking?

after a couple more rounds of her threatening to freeze your midriff and you threatening to crack open a window, you both surrender and allow her keep her hands clasped between yours, resting atop your chest.

“are you not getting any warmer?” you groan, forcing yourself to snap out of your own feelings.

“hey, you’re the hot-pack here. do you think i’m feeling any warmer?” she goes back to press her freezing palms against your stomach.

“no, no, no, do not do that again.”

bev sighs, “then what the hell am i supposed to do?” she sits upright and tightens the blanket around her head. shifting away from you, she shivers her way back into the other end of the sofa. “i’m dressed in triple the layers you are, moved around way more than you have, i’m even wearing this gigantic fleece eyesore-”

“oh for fuck’s sake just come back here.” you roll your eyes.

bev moves about an inch closer.

you feel your heart constrict in your chest and you let yourself say it before you could think it any further, “i said, come here.” you lift one of your arms and gesture for her to come closer. scooting your body near to the end of the sofa, it was clear that the space you made was so she could easily crawl in next to you.

“are- are you... you want me to-”

you’re sure your whole face has gone red. bev she already can’t stand you so why not just make it even more awkward, huh? you bit your tongue gently, calming yourself down. if bev didn’t know that you offered to cuddle with her just because you could, then that was her fault for being so daft. you sigh, resuming back into your deadpan state. “yeah, i can’t listen to another minute of your whinging.”

“no, i heard you, i just-” she stammers, looking equally red herself. you feel a huge tiny sense of pride as you realised you’ve rendered bev speechless. beverly marsh. speechless.

“what are you waiting for?” you tease, “a formal invitation?”

having the upper hand for once was refreshing, if not thrilling. being the one to tease her and watch her become flustered was something you wish could happen more often.

bev’s face breaks out in the softest smile you’ve ever seen. she slowly makes her way over to you, shifting her body close to yours without touching you yet. “is that too much to ask for? a formal invitation?” you let out an unexpected genuine laugh at her silliness and bev giggles in unison. this was different than your default laughter made of semi-amusement and sarcasm. she rests her weight against you, her cheek gently pressing into your collarbone. her fingertips resume their spot against the flushed skin of your stomach and your own cheeks turn red again. there wasn’t a functional reason for her to do that anymore.

“stop that before i regret this, bev.”

“there’s no way in hell you regret this.” she grins, followed by the faintest whisper of an “i sure don’t.”

you were about to reply and perhaps mention how you’d be okay with her falling asleep in your arms, that you could tolerate such juvenile behaviour. you know, in the name of public health and safety, but bev beats you to it.

“just let me warm up here for ten minutes, alright. then you can let go and i’ll sleep on my side right after,” she rushes out.

that wasn’t how you thought it was going to know. your heart sinks slightly at her words but you try not to take it personally. what else could you do? it was almost like a wake-up call, reminding the both of you that this wasn’t normal for you and bev.

after a minute or so, you found yourself absentmindedly weaving your fingers through bev’s auburn hair, gently combing it with your hands like you did earlier with stan. “you have such soft hair,” you whisper against her hair.

you hear her mumble against the blanket indistinguishably and you find yourself closing your eyes at the vibrations of her voice against you. if only bev wanted to stay here like this and this feeling between the two of you could last more than the next ten minutes. you let your eyelids drift down momentarily, and you smile at the thought.

just a couple minutes later, your mind jolts back awake, and your heart sinks at the thought of having to wake her up so she could move to her side of the sofa and sleep. you reach over to feel the ends of her hair between your fingers again, grounding yourself to this feeling one last time before bev had to wake up. once you peel your eyes open however, you immediately shut them against the bright light shining at you. was richie planning on abducting y’all in the middle of the night again? gently prying your eyes open for the second time, you notice the light is shining from the window. you sigh in relief.

wait. the window?

your eyes shoot open fully. the hail had stopped. and it’s day time.

snapping your head down to bev, you take in her figure still fit snugly into your side. her free arm rests across your chest, her legs were entwined with yours. ...and her electric blue eyes stare right into you. your heart instantly jumps into your throat as you scramble for excuses, fuck, anything that would keep you from explaining yourself.

instead, she shifts her body upwards so she’s fit even tighter against your side, placing her face into the crook of your neck. her lips were right at your pulse point, sending your mind spiralling at the thought that she could probably feel how fast your heart was beating right now. her lips move against your skin, saying something barely above a whisper.

“you tell anyone about this and i’ll fucking end you.”

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scaryscarecrows · 3 years

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Child Safety 101

AN: Continuation of ‘I Think I’ll Just Collapse Right Here, Thanks’, found in Why Do They Kick Me?

Note: Mark is a trauma surgeon, not a GP, but he’s also the only one Jason will let within doctoring range, so.

* * *

The Knight has been down and unresponsive for literal days. The first day was the diciest, because even Mark hadn’t been totally sure if he’d pull through, but his fever had gone down enough to remove him from the danger zone.

Once it had become apparent that he wasn’t going to die on them-because Antoine’s sorry, but no way is he continuing this crusade in the guy’s memory or whatever, if the boss dies, he is leaving-, they’d had a meeting and, essentially, made a chore chart for who had Knightwatch, who had Armywatch, and who got to nap.

It’s a fairly efficient rotation. And so far, at least, they’ve managed to keep the news of, well, everything under wraps. All the men know is that the boss is down but that he will be fine, carry on as normal. They don’t know that the helmet’s off.

And. Oof. Of all the crackpot theories they’ve jokingly tossed around, this wasn’t one of them. Antoine’s not sure which one he’s more stuck on: the fact that the boss is a teenager, or the fact that the boss is-was-Robin. They’re so intertwined that it doesn’t really matter, it’s just…

Antoine is not a parent. He’s happy to keep it that way; the best part of uncle-ing is dosing them up on sugar and releasing them back to the parents. So he doesn’t really get the whole ‘electrical outlets are a Great Danger’ thing. But he does get, maybe a little better than your average parent, the sick, twisted fucks of society. He’s worked with a handful. Spoken with more. He still remembers, years after the fact, that one guy...he ate people. Literally. He’d put a toddler in the oven-alive-and…

Yeah.

But this is a little different. This is...it’s one thing to hear about it. It’s another thing to be faced with it. And it’s another thing entirely to see it. That fucking tape, man…

He stretches out a bit, pops his back and rubs a hand over his side, feeling rough scar tissue. What a week. What an absolute hell of a week.

He’s on Knightwatch now, because everything outside is moving smoothly without him and Frank really, really needs the nap. The boss is finally sleeping peacefully, curled up on his side with one arm flung up to shield his face. He’s still shivering on and off, and he sounds congested as all get out, but the worst of it is over. No more screaming, no more pleading.

What now? He supposes they’ll stay the course, but he’s not sure, not really. Maybe this is the end. Maybe the boss will vanish in the middle of the night.

Jesus, that explains so much. Batman taught him all this weird shit. Batman...this is, arguably, entirely Batman’s fault. What sort of weirdo...never mind. Never mind.

As ever, he figures, this is a nasty combination of neglectful adult and opportunistic predator. This is the same thing as that one girl in his sister’s apartment complex that got kidnapped. Six years old, mother said, ‘yes, yes, go play by the road alone!’ and she got abducted and murdered. Somebody should have been watching her.

Somebody should have been watching the boss.

Doesn’t matter. People are watching him now, at least, whether he likes it or not.

He coughs and rolls over, one arm slipping off the bed. Antoine sighs and puts it back, straightens the sheets out like he’s seen Frank and his sister do, and wonders what’s going to happen now.

They could, he supposes, figure out who he-and by extension, Batman-is. Jimmy could run a facial recognition at the minimum. But they haven’t, and they don’t really intend to. Curious as they are, they owe him their lives and...and no matter how this turns out, he’s their boss and they won’t.

Antoine’s sort of lost in thought, caught up in memories of that little girl (what was her name?) and the cannibal and the utter confusion of everything, when the Knight suddenly jerks upright like he’s gonna make a break for it.

“Shit--”

He twists over and only feels a little sorry for forcing the Knight back down. The sorry feeling vanishes when the boss tries to fight him.

“No--”

“You gotta be kidding me--” It’s not much of a fight, but he’s still trying, which is incredibly unfair. “How even--there.”

Okay. There’s no easy weapons in here, which is all he can ask for. He’s not interested in being held at gunpoint again, thanks.

“You back with us, sir?”

The Knight’s quiet, breathing hard and seemingly very interested in the ceiling.

“We have an intruder,” he says, voice carefully flat. “I want every available unit search--”

Uh-huh.

“You wouldn’t have held this intruder at gunpoint, would you, sir?”

Silence. That’s what he thought. They’re professionals, for heaven’s sake. People don’t just get into their super-secret hidden base. That just doesn’t happen. Their own people have gotten lost trying to find their way back to it! Intruder, humph. That hurts.

…

Yeah, okay, he’s trying to maintain the facade of normalcy. Like. The helmet’s off, man, any weird-ass theories anybody’s had have now been put to rest in favor of the truth. But both of them are probably going to be happier if they just pretend that nothing has changed.

(Which is half-true. Baby Robin or not, the guy’s still scary.)

“What day is it,” he finally says, voice scarcely above a whisper. Antoine hits the call button.

“March third, sir.”

“Shit.”

Yup.

There’s no good response to that and the boss goes slack, one arm flung over his face. A minute later, Mark throws open the door with a grumpy, “What the fuck was that.”

“I--”

“Went the fuck down in the middle of the day thanks to a one-oh-four degree fever,” Mark seethes. “You have. The goddamn. Flu. People die from the flu, straight-up die, and you didn’t think to mention it! I’m not asking for much here. Just a little heads up. Y’know, ‘hey, Jones, I’m feelin’ pretty crappy, think you can poke your head in to make sure I didn’t die in the night?’ ‘Oh, sure thing, boss, happy to help, feel better!’” The smile he plasters on is frightening. The boss doesn’t like it, not one bit, and to Mark’s credit, he drops it pretty quick. “What were you thinking? Anything? Really, I’d love your thought process.”

“‘ve handled worse on my own,” the Knight mumbles, somewhere between sheepish and stubborn. “Thought a walk would clear my head.”

Sad thing is, Antoine believes him. The brand alone is not pretty, and while Mark hasn’t said much, what he has shared is disturbing.

And. Well. It’s not like the boss has been totally silent for the past few days. Once or twice he’d woken up screaming, the kind of awful sound Antoine associates with three-feet-thick walls and Professionals. Hell, Mark had collared Trent to come and look at something, and while neither of them are sharing, that’s Bad. Trent’s not a doctor, but he knows how to hurt people...and what they look like after.

“Well, it made you worse. You’re lucky you didn’t kill someone or yourself, parading around like that. Aight, you sit up, you clear out.”

Gladly.

“Feel better, sir,” he says. “We’ve got things handled out here, so just get some rest.”

“Oh, he doesn’t have a choice. Come on, up-up...be lucky if I let you out of my sight again after this...f’I have to give you weekly check-ups, that’s what’ll happen…”

Fuck Batman, Antoine thinks tiredly. This is his fault, things never should have advanced to the point that his...sidekick...kid...whatever ended up like this. How is Gotham not screaming about kids and guns anyway, huh? That just seems like Child Safety 101. He certainly makes sure all his toys are locked up tight when the niblings are over. He sure as hell wouldn’t give them a dull knife and tell them to, like, fight a trained mercenary. That seems like a terrible idea.

Whatever. It’s not going to go any farther. Boss he might be, but he’s just not going to be allowed to be an idiot, that’s all there is to it. No more vanishing off somewhere for three days, he’ll just have to check in or something. Frank can bully him about that. It’s for his own damn good.

THE END

#Jason Todd #Arkham Knight #Antoine Drouot #Mark Jones #identity reveal #well sorta #they're more stuck on 'Batman let a child fight crime and this happened'#(nobody is happy about it either)#Jason can kiss leaving the base after six goodbye

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wu-sisyphus-gang · 3 years

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Motion Sickness Chapter 38

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"How long are you going to follow me, you mute bitch?" With her teleportation and illusions there wasn't much I could do about it. We both knew if it came down to it I'd win, though. I'd shown that earlier. But she could escape anytime she wanted so I couldn't chase after her and end it. I could activate my semblance and smash her around with my strength or speed and win by standing still.

But only by standing still.

I walked past a billboard proclaiming Mercury Black, Emerald Sustrai, Cinder Fall, Hazel Rainart, and the Scorpion as wanted. My friends lived. I'd go spy on them later, when Neapolitan wasn't watching. Just to check up on them. Then I'd head my separate way.

She rapidly poked one finger through a loop in the other hand. "Fuck," I interpreted. She pointed at me. "Myself."

She clapped her hands giddily in her approval and her eyes switched colors.

"I need money," I muttered. "And a new scroll. I don't suppose you have any ideas."

She reached out into an illusion and retrieved a red brimmed hat.

"Ones that don't involve Ruby. I really seriously don't know where she is."

She looked like she didn't believe me, eyebrows furrowed.

"Well tough shit. Unless you want to go another round." She rubbed her chest where I hit her. "I'd be all for that."

She just frowned.

"Fair enough," I said. "Why do you even want to find Ruby?"

She drew a line over her throat and fondled the red and black hat.

"You want revenge for Roman Torchwick."

She nodded.

"Ruby didn't kill your boss." I dropped the harsh news on her.

She cocked her head sideways at me as we walked together through Mistral. It was… it was actually nice to have someone to talk to. Talk at, even. Otherwise I'd be alone with my thoughts and that just wouldn't be good for me. I was still wishy-washy on ending my own life.

I deserved it too. I wanted to die for what I'd done to my friends. I was the culprit, the thief in the night who robbed them of the opportunity of ever being 'together, together.'

At least they were together in death, now.

"A Grimm got him," she frowned up at me at that. "You can't even get revenge." I laughed. "You poor bitch. Not that I'm any better." Who was I supposed to kill in my hunt for vengeance now? Me. And believe me I was thinking of ways of getting to that son of a bitch. Unfortunately he was running out of friends.

An alien goddess had control over my mind. I was little more than a puppet under the right circumstances. I suppose if I had been like a puppet, all uncoordinated, Ren and Nora might have had a chance at subduing me. Instead I'd acted more or less fluid. That was a little scarier. Or a lot.

She smashed one fist into the other.

"If you were going to kill me you would have done it back at the bar. Don't act. You can't pull it off. Not while I'm awake and I assure you I'll be on my guard while sleeping. You won't get it done then either, not with my aura level."

She gave me an adorable pout. Her pink lips pressed together and out. Her pink and brown hair flowing over her shoulders.

"I know how you feel. I need revenge against Cinder. You know her? Cinder Fall?"

Her grin stretched.

"Don't tell me you want to kill her too? Did she get your boss killed? Set him up?"

She nodded.

"That's as good as killing him, I suppose. I think we may be able to help each other. Ruby really didn't kill him. Ruby doesn't have it in her to kill somebody. She always goes out of her way to avoid it."

She frowned and pointed at me.

"She's not like me. I'm a murderous asshole."

She shook her head indicating I'd guessed wrong and pointed at me again.

"What about me?"

She rotated one finger next to her head.

"I am crazy. Don't even get me started. If nothing else I'm suicidally insane. And that doesn't even get to these bugs in my eyes."

She pantomimed doing a line of hyper. Pinching one side of her nose and breathing in.

"I'm not on anything. I'm just fucked up."

She touched the tips of opposite forefingers together.

"What's that mean? It's not the same thing."

We walked in two-sided silence for a few minutes down a rainy street.

"You know where somebody with a loose moral compass can make some money around here relatively fast?"

She pointed a thumb over her shoulder back at Malachite's bar.

"Yeah, I sorta burned that bridge. And it can't involve Don Corneo. I had him tortured. Killed a bunch of his men, too."

Her smile widened looking up at me.

"Oh is that how you get your jollies?"

She just grinned up at me.

"Well I suppose we could just do official huntsman work. That's always lucrative."

She pointed a finger between us.

"Yeah I thought you were following me. That makes it an us. Keep up. Plus I just might be your best shot at murdering Fall. I almost fuckin' had her. And I might know where she's headed next."

She looked at me in surprise.

"Yep. Her and Black, too. Fought them relatively recently."

She put a hand to her mouth and silently laughed at me.

"Yeah they lived. Go ahead and giggle. Next time I'll get one of them. At least one of them. Well, Cinder has the powers of the spring maiden now. It might be even harder than before."

She gave me a confused look. Hell, who was she going to tell? She was… easy to talk to besides. I wasn't sure if it was the muteness but it might be.

"It's a whole thing. Ancient powers passed along person to person. Myths and legends. It's fucking bullshit is what it is. Girls only club. So maybe you could get in on that action."

She silently snorted, full of doubt. A little air escaping her nose.

"It's true. You can be the one to fight her and find out the hard way or you can take my word for it. She's even more dangerous now. And she was already a heaping pile of it before. I surprised her yesterday and I'm only getting stronger from what I've seen but she just added a big helping of power to herself."

She pointed at herself then smashed one fist into her open palm to indicate violence.

"Could you beat her?"

She nodded. Letting me know I'd guessed right.

"Maybe. Maybe before but probably not now. You'd be in serious trouble. I'd be in serious trouble." I let that sink in, I was able to beat this ice-cream girl and if I was not able to beat Cinder that only meant she wouldn't be able to either.

She made a complicated series of gestures.

"I didn't get that. But it doesn't matter, does it?"

She just frowned at me and I strode forward. She was practically jogging to keep up and I had no intention of slowing down.

The relic jingled by my side as I walked.

"You know maybe it can involve Don Corneo. You up for stealing from a mob boss? It might involve torture and death. I could use someone with your talents."

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

Some broken limbs and I learned the news (Neapolitan had clapped at that). Don Corneo was holed up in his mansion with a whole lot of guards and probably a whole lot of money. Evidently he hadn't taken being tortured very well.

Go figure.

Neapolitan or just Neo was working beside me and honestly it felt good to have somebody watching my back, even if they were criminal scum. Which, I mean, beggars couldn't be choosers from their glass houses.

I needed a pseudonym. I could hardly keep calling myself Jaune Arc even though my weapon and face would be recognizable. I needed a haircut and makeover and a new name. I had to hide from my friends as much as it bit at me.

I was lucky they hadn't reported me to the police. The wounds on Nora and Ren's bodies would be unmistakable as coming from my weapon.

More importantly I needed the money to do all that. I was a long ways away from hopping on a horse and riding out to Merlot's laboratory, as much as I may want to. Instead I needed to stay in the city for a while.

That meant laying low and coming up with a heist. I needed money. Enough that I didn't have to worry about it for a long time.

I was struggling to come up with a new name for myself. That was always the hardest part. Names. I thought that as I broke one of Don Corneo's lackeys' fingers.

Neo and I had him tied down in a hotel room on the lower levels. It was dirt cheap and nobody would ask any questions. Especially if we left no body behind.

He screamed into a gag and it came out muffled. Nickel was the name we managed to get out of him.

"Shshsh." I told him. "You're going to tell me the security details on Don Corneo's mansion or I'm going to break every last bone in your body. If you scream I'll hurt you even more than that. Are we clear? Everything goes well and you get to walk on out of here. You might have to find a new boss but that doesn't really matter compared to your life, does it?"

He seemed to realize I was actually waiting for a response and gave a slow shake of his head. I nodded at Neo and she pulled out the gag.

"Now, what's the security look like?"

"He's going to kill you for this, he's going to-"

Neo gave a lecherous grin and stabbed him through the foot. Who was this guy fooling? He didn't even have aura. There was no way the Don cared about him a Lien. Not that we cared considering we were planning to rob him blind. She covered his mouth with the other hand, not that we really needed to down here per se, and looked him in the eye.

Her gaze flickered out like a hungry lizard's tongue to meet his eyes and devour all of the pain therein.

"Boy you don't even have aura. I can fix that for you. Unlock your aura and make it all go away." He was older than me, probably by a few years. Might be twenty-one, twenty-two. I watched him consider it. Aura was a game changer. A kid like him had to know what it meant, what it could mean. It'd mean a pay raise if nothing else. It meant increased survivability. It meant the power to fight back against those dastardly huntsmen.

"I can make the pain go away too. It'll heal you right up, even your broken fingers." They were tied behind his back. Nice and easy within snapping distance. "What's it going to be, my man."

"Fuck you, I ain't your man."

I broke another one of his fingers. Neo stuffed the gag back in his mouth while he screamed.

"We're not making much headway with this one. Might have to kill him and grab a fresh one. Start over." I said it clinically to Neo. Her eyes went wide at the thought of the violence. I even thought maybe the tips of her breasts were protruding more than before from the excitement. She gave a silent laugh and I hoped it was just my imagination. For my part I didn't have a carnage boner.

A murder erection I distinctly did not have. I wasn't a sadist. Just a pragmatist.

I had to admit there was a bit of an endorphin rush at the thought of snapping this guy's neck, though. With Neo's semblance we'd just walked up and grabbed him from the mansion and we'd walked away, under the cover of an illusion.

Suddenly I had some symptoms come at me and I blinked hard at the tactile sensation of bugs in my eyes until they stopped. Nerves firing which shouldn't have been.

"I'm thinking maybe we just hammer the place. Go all in and kill everyone in our way," I said. "Your thoughts, Neapolitan?"

She stamped a foot.

"Beg your pardon, I meant Neo." I hadn't but she seemed content to insist on it now that I'd figured it out. I took it as a good sign.

"M-m-m. M-m-m." Came from under the gag.

"Sorry, do you have friends in there? Some buddies perhaps?"

Neo pulled the gag out of his mouth. Nickel spat on the floor, very much not in our directions. He didn't want another broken finger was what that told me.

"You'll never make it like that. The Don has a safe room. A panic vault. You'll never get in and get what you want that way."

"And you've telling us this now because…"

"I want a cut. He's got millions stashed away. A-and I want my aura unlocked... And I walk free."

So that's how it is. Money talks, money talks. Apparently louder than broken bones could.

"Tell me about this panic room."

"It's got Titania walls and big electric locks."

"What kind?"

"The fuck should I know? It's like you see in bank vaults though. His office is in there. Or at least it is now they moved it from the second floor. He's been paranoid. There's been talk."

"Talk about how somebody got to him." I nodded. I put my face in his. "Somebody did. I'm going to do it again."

"It was you. It was you at the Honey Bee Inn." His brown eyes went wide.

"Maybe. Tell me about the mansion."

"It's built with choke points in mind. And places we're supposed to go to to lay down fire if there's an assault. It's all built around this central courtyard, too. It has mines in the walls, explosives at every corridor. They can be remotely activated by the Don. The whole place is booby-trapped. It’s supposed to be huntsman proof.”

“Nothing is actually huntsman proof."

He shrugged but the fact he was panting hard ruined the illusion of calm. "Couldn't say."

"Talk to me about the patrols you were on.”

“They’re fairly strict about it. Somebody will have noticed I’m gone, even. Every hour on the hour and through the center courtyard. Around the building, too.”

“How many?”

“A hundred of us at a given time, maybe."

A hundred could be a problem. Especially if they had proper choke points and the right hardware. Hard light weapons or magnetically accelerated rifles were huntsman level. There were also electric weapons which I was sure could find Neo, invisible or not. I'd seen Neptune use one. An explosion could also take me down. Limit was good but I wasn't invincible.

"Aura?"

"Some of us have it, some of us don't. The Don hasn't been in a position to be picky about his men. Not with his empire crumbling under pressure to the Malachites."

I leaned back and folded my arms. I exchanged looks with Neo. She flickered in and out of the visible spectrum and warbled a hand.

"Might be too many to just walk in to. Plus the explosives. They gonna be a problem for you?"

She waved her hand again.

"Samesies," I grunted.

I had him walk me through the layout of the place in enough detail that I was able to draw a map of the first and second floor. The panic office was on the bottom floor. A big, heavy thing like that couldn't be above ground.

Neo gave me a pleading look and I nodded. She walked behind Nickel and she bent down like she was going to untie him. Giving him one last shred of hope before she snapped up and slit his throat. I watched her take extreme pleasure in doing it.

She shuddered with the living corpse as his lifeblood drained soundlessly onto the floor. She looked ecstatic in the company of death. A low narrow smile on her lips.

It was clear to me. I just needed to give her lots of targets. It seemed like it had been a long time since she was able to indulge in such things. Heists. Murder. All of it. Money must trickle. The blood must flow.

Most importantly I needed to keep her focused on Cinder rather than Ruby. I think the message was starting to sink in but she could relapse. Besides, I wanted Cinder to die and another body wouldn't hurt.

I just needed to make sure she didn't run out of her little pleasures and it seemed to me like I'd have a loyal ally. Underneath it all it seemed like she was just lonely and scared. Especially without her boss. I think there was a part of her that liked taking orders.

And weren't we all like all that? I was like that without Ruby for one. I wasn't sure she would approve of this but she probably didn't approve of me murdering our friends either so there was that.

Neo didn't seem so bad. A bit of a sadist but hey, me too. There was a part of me that took sick pleasure in bringing ruin to my enemies. There was a sideways joy in delivering a boot to their faces.

And my friends… if I ever saw them again they'd have to understand. I did what I had to to find out about Merlot… this… my father. I had so many memories. Like visiting Shion. We're they all fake? I had to learn more about myself. If I had to shake hands with a few demons to make it happen then big fucking whoop.

Neo looked at the blood on her stiletto and wiped it off on the Nickel's clothes.

I could work with this. I could live with this. I just needed to throw away my pride.

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-WG

#neapolitan #Jaune Arc #Rwby #ff7 #ffvii #motion sickness #war of the roses #white rose #whiterose #whiteknight #white knight #lancaster #ruby rose x jaune arc x weiss schnee

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1-800iamhispanic · 3 years

Text

READERS WARNING⚠️: This chapter contains explicit fighting and gore sequences, as well as adult language and sexual references. It may be offensive to some readers.

CHAPTER FOUR: TREVOR

He had left immediately after his conversation with Alucard. That was early this morning, and he had been traveling for about five hours now with still no sign of any attacks or vampires. He sighed as his horse continued to trot through the forest.

His back ached and his legs were beginning to cramp. "Whoaa," he tugged onto the reins and the horse neighed but stopped. "Maybe we can rest for a bit," he said as he got off the horse, his bones popping as he finally stretched, the patted the horse's neck. "Immortality looks good right about now, huh? No need to worry about old age or sore muscles," he smirked at the horse who only snorted as a response.

Trevor's grin slowly disappeared, "Yeah, I wouldn't want to live longer than needed either," he said as he tied the reins of the horse to a tree branch, and began to walk away from the horse.

In his walk he kept thinking of his conversation with Alucard. How he should be with Sypha at this moment, enjoying and helping build the new town. Sypha. How happy she had become since their victory. Her growing womb swelling certain areas that were his favorite, and as if it were any more possible, making her glow with absolute beauty. The sex was even different now, Trevor thought. That made him smirk remembering what they had done last night. Twice.

He sighed and shook his head not wanting to distract himself from his current task. Hunting.

Damn you, Alucard. How dare he! Trevor thought as he stopped walking. "This is for them!" He raised his arms up showcasing the empty forest around him. The birds were chirping, the sun was still out, everything was peaceful.

He put his arms down and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Maybe I should go back."

Just as he was about to turn around and head back, he noticed the silence around him. The birds had gone quiet. He continued to pinch the bridge of his nose as if pretending to be thinking tiredly. His eyes slightly opened as he scanned his surroundings. Then he felt it. The hairs on his arm rising and his skin tingle with coldness, just as it did right before a fight.

He turned normally, keeping his head straight ahead to avoid being obvious, and began to walk back to his horse. Trevor held tight onto the handle of the Morning Star whip.

There was a rustle of leaves coming from behind him. Feet running. A branch snapping. The sound of a hissing mouth opening and-

SWOOSH!

CRACK!

THUNK!

Trevor turned quickly, swaying his whip off the dead corpse. He had struck him clean down the center of the vampire's face, which now split open on the forest floor.

Trevor listened for a moment in silence. The wind blew towards him and that's when he caught the scent. "I'd get this over with rather than wait it out," he shouted. Silence.

Trevor moved passed the split body closer to the smell in the air of blood. Not from the vampire he just killed, but of blood that had been days old by now. An iron-like and rotting smell the kind that lingers after a hunt or murder. Movement.

"Don't tell me you're afraid?" He scoffed and couldn't help but grin at that. "What's the point of being an immortal with permanent weapons attached to the gums of your mouth if you can't even- OOF!"

He groaned as immense weight was applied to his chest, right below the rib cage. The vampire had sprung out and slammed Trevor to the floor. He bared his fangs and pressed his foot against Trevor's wrist which held the whip. All the while keeping the rest of his body weight on Trevor's chest.

Trevor gasped for air as he blinked trying to quickly regain consciousness after what just happened. He looked up at the devil who was literally standing on top of him. Oh, I'm going to enjoy killing you he thought.

"That'll be tough, seeing as you won't have hands to kill me with," sneered the vampire. Oh, so Trevor had said it out loud. The vampire raised his left foot but before Trevor could make sense of what was happening, the vampire slammed his foot down hard against Trevor's wrist.

CRACK!

The sound of bones cracking and his own hissing scream bought Trevor back to focus. He groaned and gasped through gritted teeth as he noticed that he had dropped hold of the whip when his wrist popped.

The vampire smirked and tsked at Trevor's deformed hand. "Don't tell me you're afraid?" Teased the vampire.

Trevor clenched his teeth and with his left hand tightened in a fist he punched the vampire's knee on the side as hard as he could. It didn't do much because of the armor he was wearing but it was enough to make him sway. To which Trevor rolled to his upper back, wrapped his legs around the vampire's left leg, one by his hip and another below the crouch and stretched. The vampire staggered unbalanced, which gave Trevor enough time to wrap the Vampire's foot under his armpit and twist it until the ankle snapped and dangled. He grabbed the handle of the Morning Star and staggered up to his feet.

The vampire shrieked, fallen on the floor. He took his silver helmet off and threw it towards Trevor's neck at incredible speed. The razor sharp sides of the metal rotating through the air like knives. Just as Trevor was about to whip the helmet at a different direction, a sword interfered causing the helmet to bounce off and land on the floor.

Alucard moved out of the forest and looked over at Trevor who was cradling his wrist. "That looks different."

Trevor sighed and rolled his eyes, "You should have gotten here five minutes before, and it wouldn't look like this."

"I shouldn't even be here! I should be home, remember?" Alucard raised his brow as he turned his attention back to the vampire who began crawling away.

Trevor cracked his whip and slashed a clean cut through the vampires left wrist. Blood trickling down the open wound. "Speaking of home, why aren't you there?" He broke his gaze only momentarily to glance at Alucard who was already glaring at him.

"You aren't seriously asking me that? I just saved your fucking life!"

The vampire cradled his injured arm much like Trevor was doing. He threw his whip back, "A bit dramatic aren't you? I had it-"

he stroked his whip at the vampire's right hand, slicing it clean off. "-under control," he finished.

The vampire shouted as Alucard stayed within the shadows of the trees but continued to creep in closer, his sword by his side. "Oh! So that's what control looks like," he glanced at Trevor's wrist.

Trevor scoffed as he brought his whip back. "Don't you ever stop talking?"

Alucard rolled his eyes as he grabbed hold of the vampire's hair and yanked his head back to see his face. Trevor looked down at the vampire. His face dirty from sweat, blood and days of travel. He glanced at the uniform, the metal and the colors. "I've seen this armor before," he stated.

"What are soldiers from Styria doing here? We know you're not the first ones to be lurking in the forest," asked Alucard.

The vampire only grunted. "How many of you are there in this area?" Asked Trevor impatiently.

"You can kill me now or wait until later, but you'll not hear a thing from me," spat the soldier.

"Then let's see how long you'll last," echoed Alucard as his sword flew through the vampires knee.

"No, I don't think that even hurt him, let me try," teased Trevor as he grabbed hold of the hilt of the sword. He placed the tip of the sword just below the crouch of the vampire and added pressure.

"You know I've actually never sliced anyone in half starting from the bottom. So, I might have to take a few breaks before continuing," he threatened through clenched teeth.

"And seeing as how he's unable to use the strength of both hands, this will take a while," clarified Alucard.

The vampire only turned his head avoiding eye contact. "The witch will die. Along with the bastard of your spawn and everyone else. She 'll make sure you live long enough to see it all burn and die," grinned the vampire. He sounded nervous and desperate, but he managed to laugh and keep a smirk on his face.

Trevor's hand trembled with fury, his face twitched with rage and he felt his blood boil throughout his body. In one quick swipe he managed to split the vampire open from bottom to top. Blood pouring and gushing in all directions until finally the body lay torn apart on the floor, the blood pooling around what was left of him. Alucard moved the sword out of Trevor's hand with his mind and looked at the dead bodies.

The two of them stood motionless for only a moment until finally Trevor composed himself. He inhaled deeply and turned to Alucard. "You need to go back immediately. Find Sypha and protect her. Protect everyone, I'll be there as quickly as I can, if I don't return...then I'm dead. In which case you need to be prepared for whatever this is-" he pointed at the dead vampires.

"He wanted a quick death Trevor, he knew how to trigger you," Alucard tried to calm him down. Trevor was already walking back to his horse. "These are Carmilla's soldiers! Why are they here, Alucard? They found the castle, they found us! Now they want war," he untied the reins from the branch and braced himself as he climbed onto the horse.

Alucard quickly ran a hand under the horse's reins, keeping it from moving. "Let me at least, set that back for you," he insisted. Trevor bit his lip and sighed.

Alucard snapped the wrist back in place and Trevor winced in pain. "FUCKING HELL!"

Alucard nodded. "There's some things that might be broken but it isn't bad-"

"That's because their not your bones," grunted Trevor.

Alucard smiled and let go of the reins, stepping aside. "Ride as fast as you can, I'll be back at the Castle. If anything happens look out for smoke, we'll signal you if there's danger."

Trevor took hold of his reins and nodded, "She's going to bloody kill me."

Alucard chuckled and raised a golden brow, "Probably. I don't know how she stands you." Then in a blink of an eye Alucard was gone, on his way back home.

Trevor clicked his tongue and kicked his heel to the sides of the horse, prompting him to trot and then run. "Neither do I," he muttered to himself before he continued his journey back home.

——————————

(Writer’s note 📝: It’s not easy to have my stories reached out to more readers, so if you could be so kind as to reblog this for more people to read it, I’d greatly appreciate it. I hardly know if anyone does ready my stories, but if you are reading this now, and enjoying it then I’m very much happy. Please feel free to leave a comment, message me or create a fanart based on my writings. 🖤)

#free write #love #excerpt from a book i'll never write #reblog #castlevania sypha #castlevania fanfiction #castlevania trevor #richard castle #Castlevania #trevor belmont #trevor x sypha #sypha fanart #sypha/trevor/alucard #sypha belnades #fanart #comission #comment what you want to read next #comicart

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thechanelmuse · 4 years

Text

Gotta love NY...

The NYPD has an annual budget of $6 billion to harass, demonize, intimidate attack, and/or murder (Black) civilians; plant drugs and weapons; maintain unsolved cases stretching decades and counting as well as illegal practices; confiscating money; committing violent and non-violent crimes (including child trafficking rings and running brothels); police schools that aren’t predominately white to upkeep that pipeline to prison; and beating/terrorizing their significant others. They said cutting their gang’s budget by $1 billion for social services and education (yeah iight...), which has been proposed by De Blasio, "could set the city crime control back 30 years.”

Consistency.

The MTA has a budget of $17 billion to maintain unreliable service; provide janky ass, broke down buses and trains; enforce crowds of passengers to leave and wait for the next available transportation; eliminate certain routes, trains, or buses indefinitely; and be disrespectful as hell and an inconvenience on top of yearly discussions of fare hikes for passengers. The Coronavirus Aid, Relief, and Economic Security (CARES) Act gave them $3.8 billion in March. Now their asses are insisting that if they don’t get $3.9 billion in the coming months “to stay afloat they’ll have no choice but to increase the single fare ride from from $2.75 (which many can barely afford) to $9. Yes, 9 whole dollars. And they thought they had a problem with people hopping the turnstiles now...

So,

• $6 billion for law enforcement (and counting),

• $17 billion for the MTA + fares + more begging,

• $10 billion for miscellaneous undisclosed “services” from De Blasio 🤔

• Andrew “the Columbus statue represents the Italian-American legacy in this state” Cuomo talking about if NY doesn’t get $61 billion in federal aid, he’ll have “no choice but to slash state aid to schools, hospitals and local governments by a fifth.” As if that hadn’t been enforced to spend money on some bullshit... Let’s not even talk about when his nepotist bitchass was running against Cynthia Nixon (who appeared to wanna fuck the government gang mentality up per her words) and he was more focused on the completion of that $4 billion bridge in his tired ass daddy’s name. People voted for him in droves and I still don’t understand his appeal. People, who don’t live in NY, talking bout they wish he could run for president. Huh?! Is you dumb?!?!

Speak in second person about your damn self. Let that be your daily mantra.

• Chile, let’s not even talk about Bill bumass enabling De Blasio and that crooked ass wife of his, and how she’s running for Brooklyn borough president while that husband of hers finishes his last term 😒. Let’s not even talk about her being awarded $850 million for a “mental health roadmap” initiative (🤔???) for low income communities aka a front company in 2015, how that money magically went missing 🙃 and how she wants to “reboot” the initiative again.

Bitch, what?! Where the money at, Chirlane? Speak up!

So kids, what have we learned from all of the shady activities with state funds that’s been going on for umpteenth years?

You get a slush fund! You get a slush fund! Everybody gets a slush fund!

A lot of shit be happening in plain sight. People be running to the polls to support the shit because of their political party interest and/or to keep familiar names in office. If they’re not doing they’re job properly and honestly (wishful thinking here...), then they need to gtfo. Fuck the completion of a term. Next! And keep that shit in rotation.

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officialleehadan · 4 years

Text

Three Sparks and a Book

“I need to find someone who’s being hidden under a ward,” Cora said as she stormed into the local Magical Defense Agency with the authority of a senior agent and the outrage of a woman on a mission. Lisette and Rao trailed her, both as angry as she was, but willing to bow to her authority for the sake of finding Callen all the faster. “Get me three good spell-slingers, a scrying bowl, and someone who knows about demon pacts. Move.”

The office as a collective, froze at the sight of her large, definitely-demonic-looking companion and his equally angry but probably-human companion, and then unfroze as Cora’s words cut through their shock.

It really was gratifying to scatter junior agents like that, but fortunately, the Agency was a well-oiled machine that could move quickly when it had to.

Most major magical issues needed some haste to them. If a senior agent stormed in making demands, it was usually better to give them what they wanted and ask questions later.

“What are we doing here?” Rao asked as Cora led them to one of the workrooms kept aside for whatever spells might need a clear area to work them. “We should be going after Cal.”

“We are,” Cora promised him seriously. “But you told me when we landed that you couldn’t get a bead on him. Whatever Breton’s up to, he’s got a hell of a sorcerer keeping him hidden. Can’t get Cal if we can’t find him.”

“I could probably get through.”

“Faster than three specialists working together?”

His silence was telling. Cora forced a smile that wasn’t very sincere, but he nodded back, and forced his demonic nature a little further under the skin. It didn’t really make him less scary, but at least he looked approximately human.

Fortunately, the sorcerers of the agency were used to dropping their work and coming at a run when an agent yelled for them. The scrying bowl, which was a wide, shallow silver bowl big enough to bathe in, was only a minute behind them, rolled by someone Cora vaguely recognized from the archives.

“I’m Kelsie. Demonology specialist,” the woman introduced herself, and shoved her glasses up her nose as she stared at Rao with open admiration. “Look at you! Oh, you’re gorgeous. I never thought I would see a real demon in person!”

“I’m only half-demon,” Rao said, uncomfortable with the hungry stare, and actually took a half-step behind Cora. He was immense, even with his demon nature hidden, and Cora stifled a laugh at the thought of her giant boyfriend using her as a shield. “Boots?”

“You find his pact-mate, and I’ll make sure you get an interview with both of them,” Cora said to the demonologist, and turned to the three sorcerer, who were looking moderately confused. “Alright people, here’s the problem. Breton Tor isn’t dead, and has kidnapped his son, Callen Tor, using his sister as leverage. This is Lisette Tor. Yes, she’s the famous model. Ask for selfies after you find her brother. This is Rao Byrn, Callen’s pact-mate. I share a prophesy with him and Callen. Now, there’s a lot of spellcaster genius in this room. Use it to find Callen. The clock is ticking.”

“I assume you tried to track him through the bond already?” One of the sorcerers, who was named Alice, if Cora remembered right. “Good shields to block that. Hey, Jan. you’re good on wards.”

“Not so good at breaking them as putting them up,’” Jan admitted, brow furrowed and fingers twisting her hair into an ornate braid, which was clearly a long-practiced fidget. “But maybe if we can find the ward, we can shoot a dispelling through and break it?”

“Gotta find it first,” the third sorcerer said, and proffered a hand for Cora to shake. “Leo. I’m new. Good call on the scrying pool. Kelsie, demon pacts. They can’t be blocked, right? Byrn, you can still feel your pact-mate, but you can’t find him, am I right?”

“Getting’ emotions, but can’t send anything back an’ can’t get more than a direction on him,” Rao confirmed, calmer now that they had help that knew what they were doing. Lisette’s sharp gaze flew across the room, and she stayed close to Cora’s shoulder, one hand hovering near the gun hidden under layers of floofy skirt,. Cora didn’t envy anyone who tried to hit either of them faster than Lisette could pull that weapon. “He’s not across water, and he’s within a hundred miles. Probably within the city. Breton’s a lot of things but creative ain’t one. He likes to work on familiar ground.”

“Alright,” Cora took command. “Tracing spells. We have a pact, a family member, and a prophesy. Can we use any of those to track him?”

“Follow the Pact,” Kelsie offered, and knelt by the scrying pool as it filled from a handy tap set into the wall for just that purpose. The other sorcerers took her words in, and Cora held her silence. This wasn’t her brand of magic. There was a reason she called for experts. “Use the Pact as a guide. Byrn is connected to one end. Callen Tor is connected to the other. Follow it, and that’ll give us a where.”

“And once we know where he is, we can crack the wards,” Leo said decisively, and looked at Cora. “There’s one problem that we haven’t discussed. Cracking wards is noisy, magically speaking. Breton, or whoever is holding the ward, will know it’s happening.”

“Which puts Cal in danger,” Lisette spoke for the first time, face pale and drawn. “He’s disposable meat. Breton will kill him if he thinks it’ll keep him from getting caught.”

“Gotta be sneaky,” Rao agreed, and edged closer until Lisette could lean into his shoulder. “Hey, Sparky Two. No, not you. The other one. The other other one.”

“Me?” Jan asked dubiously, and Rao nodded. “Uh, sure. What can I do for you?”

“Can a Null turn off a ward?”

“If they get close enough to touch it, probably so. Why?”

Rao turned to Alice and Kelsie. “You. Sparky One. think you can find Cal through our Pact?”

“I think so,” Kelsie said with a shared look at each other. “In theory, it makes sense. You’re bonded. We just have to follow that to the other end of your bond.”

“Good, Sparky Three. You any good at portals?”

“Very good,” Leo answered, correctly guessing that Rao meant him. He was the first to figure out what the half-demon was after. “Oh, that’s clever. Yeah, okay. We can do that.”

“Want to fill in the non-magic user in the room?” Lisette demanded, and pulled a coin out to flip over her fingers. Cora recognized it as the same trick Callen used to calm himself, and wondered which of them started doing it first. “What’s the plan?”

“Alice and Kelsie follow the pact-bond from Byrn to your brother,” Leo explained clearly, much to Cora’s relief. “Jan, you and I use their tracer spell to drop Agent Smoke just outside the ward where she can Null it. Should be much faster than just breaking the ward.”

“And wards that powerful have to be localized,” Jan picked up the explanation. “They take too much power to be big unless you have like, a hundred mages feeding it power the way we do here at the Agency. We all rotate powering it up, or it could never cover the whole building like it does.”

“Right,” Cora said, proud of her Agency. It was a tough problem, and they figured it out faster than she dared hope was possible. “We’ve got the problem solved. Let’s get to work.”

+++

Secondhand Souls:

Solving a murder is rarely easy, but a sorcerer with a vendetta and his half-demon best friend complicate things.

Cora still hasn’t decided whether or not to shoot them both and blame it on whoever happens to be handy.

Partnership of Flames

Barroom Brawl

Lox of Trouble

Attack on Blue

Busted Engine

Dragon Curry

Territory Negotiations (Free on Patreon)

Word Salad

Rumble and Roll (Subscriber-Only!)

Prophesy Burning

Fly Out (Subscriber Only!)

Waver in the Air

Over Troubled Water

+++

More Stories!

+++

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mo-2020ao3 · 4 years

Text

We’ll Meet Again - Drabble

Pairing; Tony Stark x Bucky Barnes

Warning; kidnapping (from Iron Man), implied non-con, mentioned suicide attempt (kind of), mild swearing

Notes; I call Bucky James/Jamie in this

“I had something to live for; lost it a long time ago,” the omega said emotionlessly into the darkness of the cold damp cave; the only thing that he could fell was the blood and other bodily fluid traveling down his thighs.

“Excuse me,” Yinsen asked sitting up on his poor excuse of a mattress.

“You told me the find something to continue to live for, but the truth is l no longer have anything to live for,” Tony clarified, shifting uneasily in his cot and forcing a painful hiss out of himself “Everyone I’ve ever love is gone; my mother, Anna, Jarvis, Steve,” he tried to swallow the growing lump in his throat, “And all of that- All of that loss doesn’t compare to the emptiness I feel every since I lost James,” he whispered, voice cracking.

Yinsen cleared his throat, the pheromones emitting from the omega was getting to him despite the fact that he was a beta “Even with all that loss you’re still here. Why is that?”

“Extremis,”

“What is that?”

“A form of gene therapy. That basically makes you immortal.” Tony scoffed. “When Stark Industries was trying to expand its medicinal division, my father and I were trying to develop a formula designed to regenerate damaged tissue and regrow severed limbs, mainly for dismembered and amputee soldiers. Long story short, it didn’t work and we lost a lot of government funding.”

“What happened? How did you know it didn’t work?”

“I tested it on myself,” Tony raised his left hand to reveal a pinky chopped to its third knuckle, then carefully rotated his head to show a clipped ear. “Apparently the formula only regenerates and heals the damaged and old tissue you still have and not what you’ve lost.”

“That’s similar to Dr. Erskine’s serum,” Yinsen said in awe.

Tony huffed out a laugh, “Yeah, but it’s super weak compared to it.”

“But still that is groundbreaking! How could you lose government funding for that?”

“I didn’t tell anyone about it.”

“But you’ve barely aged for years, surely someone had to know something was up.”

“They did catch up after a while. The government has been trying to get it out of me for years, but I’ll never give it to them.”

Yinsen was on the edge of his cot, intently listening to what the genius was saying, “Why is that?”

Tony sighed. “If I gave it up, it could only go one way. They turn it into Erskine’s serum or something close, then weaponizes it and then the first country that gives us the wrong look; my bets are between here and Russia, we send our new and improved supersoldiers to show ‘America’s might,” he sneered the last two words.

“Do you actually have so little trust in your government,?”

“Doctor, I’ve worked with the U.S. government for close to sixty years now. I’ve learned that you can’t trust them.”

Both men fell into a comfortable silence, lost in their own thoughts for what felt like hours but could only have minutes. The peacefulness was broken when Yinsen asked, “Why did you test the Extremis formula on yourself? Certainly, manly people would line up to be part of the human trials, yes?”

“It was a drunken mistake. I guess part of me had wanted something to go wrong and the formula would kill me; as I said before, I have nothing to live for.”

“What about your father?”

Tony scoffed. “What about him? He couldn't give a rat’s ass about me. Hell, I’m not sure if he even wanted me, anyway. And it was his fault that my mother is gone; the fucking useless drunk.”

“What about your um..assistant, Poppy? And your friend Rhodey. Aren’t they something to live for?”

“It’s Pepper,” he corrected, accepting Yeinsen’s quiet apology. “And yeah. I guess they’re my something to live for. To be quite frank, I don’t think I could have gone on for this long if I didn’t know them, but even with them, I’m holding on by a thread. I have been for a long time.” Tony let out a huffed out a laugh and started trying to wiping the tears the had begun to slide down his cheeks “I sound like such a sap, how pathetic.”

“It not pathetic, it shows that you have a heart,” Yinsen consoled.

“Yeah, the Most Famous Mass-Murderer in the History of America has a heart,” Tony laughed sarcastically.

That night Tony dreamed he was standing in the middle of his Brooklyn apartment We’ll Meet Again by Vera Lynn was playing on the radio, the main room was very much lived in, but what caught his eye was the sports coat laying on the couch. Tony reached for it with shaky hands and brought it to up his nose, taking a huge inhale of the scent that was stuck to the fabric.

“You know I was wearing that when we met? I gave it to you at the end of the night after I walked you home, said it was something to remember me by till we met again, but still to this day you haven’t properly given it back.”

The omega gasped as he spun around and there, nonchalantly leaning on the door frame chuckling at his recountment, was… “James”

“Hey, doll,” he purred pushing himself off the jamb sauntered up and wrapped his arms around Tony’s slim waist and began swaying to the music. Tony’s arms automatically raised up and circled around the alpha’s neck.

“I miss you so much,” he sniffled into James’s neck.

“I know, doll.”

Tears started streaming down Tony’s cheeks into his lover’s shirt as he lamented, “You lied, you broke your promise! You said you were coming back.”

James pulled back from Tony, cupping his hands on his omega cheek, wiping Tony’s eyes with his thumbs, “You know I’d never lie to you.” Tony tried to tuck his head back into his alpha’s neck but was pressed back a step, forcing him to continue to look at James “But Tones you need to continue to go on without me.”

“I can’t, Jamie, not after what they did to me! I can’t do it anymore,” Tony croaked, tears welling up in his eyes again.

“Please Tony, just promise me you’ll hang on for a little while longer, please,” James begged.

“I promise,” Tony whispered, putting his head in the meat between his mate’s neck and shoulder, utterly disregarding the deeper meaning behind James’s words. Both of them fell into a peaceful silence. The couple just rocking to the song; relishing in the feeling of being in each other arms.

7 YEARS LATER

Tony blindly searched for his phone that was ringing for the second time on the bed bedside table before giving up, “J, pick up my phone,” he mumbled in the pillow.

“Of course, sir.”

“Hello?”

“Tony?”

The urgency in Steve’s voice made the sleep leave Tony’s body immediately. “Steve?”

“I’m going to need help…”

Tony swung his leg out to his bed now on edge, “Where are you?”

“...Berlin.”

#winteriron #bucky x tony #abo #alpha bucky #omega tony #iron man 1 #beta ho yinsen #ho yinsen #A winteriron twist on what happened in Iron Man 1 and a little bit of Civil War #this is just for myself #marvel drabble

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huntsman-ash · 3 years

Text

LiveThoughts: RWBY V8E6

Second attempt at this since last time Chrome just DIED for no reason...

Im going to put literally the entire thing with Cinder under one note; Called it.

Its a great set of stuff, sure, but it doesnt relaly tell us anything we didnt already know about Cinder, and I personally feel it doesnt really explain why she turned out the way she did. I feel like we’ve had another weird twist of the situation again...M+K? Coronas fault? Who knows. Either way, this section isnt great by my taste and I kinda skipped most of it.

Few things to note though; Apperently in Mistral scrubbing by hand is still more viable floor cleaning tech than using Dust.

The wind vane on the roof has the Rooster Teeth symbols rooster on it.

The hotel Cinder is bought by is named the Glass Unicorn, fittingly enough for...several reasons.

The coffees behind the stepsisters when we first see them are the animated versions of the real life stuff RT put out just before this season went live.

No one seems to notice the fact cinder has orange eyes. I wonder if weird eye colors are just a THING in Remnant?

The control collar/shock thing is incredibly inefficient in design, since it doesnt actually hold on to her very well. A more effective brace/choker design would have worked better.

The song that goes on during all of this is...kind of obvious and a little bland? Fitting for younger Cinder I guess.

Mmm. Random greasy huntsman.

I guess in Atlas its fine to laugh at struggling teenagers?

Im going to assume there’s a 3+ year gap here where she gets older, cause she stops being smol and gets closer to how we see her now.

Also even here, in Atlas...really? The most effective way to clean these carpeted floors is to have a TEENAGER SCRUB THEM BY HAND?

How do you scrub...I assume its carpet anyway?

And how you tell civilians are lame in Atlas; they are impressed...by a sword. Just a sword. A boring, half-cut sword. Losers.

I assume this would be Cinder’s semblance manifesting. Also note on the desk; “we do not serve faunus”. Well THAT doesnt surprise me.

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHEHE. Get fucked Cinder. HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE

I dont even feel pity for her, this is funny to me. Also the fact that this kind of shit aCTUALLY EXISTS is...amusing to me. Like, really? So I guess indentured servitude is a thing in Remnant too.

And this is why Cinder likes to use swords. Really. Wow. LAMEO.

Huh. Dual maces. Interesting. Thats a prety cool weapon. Looks like they open up too. Bet he could bash some skulls with that.

“Hurting them isnt going to make your life any better”. Um, excuse me? I think hurting them is the very best thing to do in this situation. At least, for the moment anyway.

Huh. So she’s ten at this point? Even as a child, shes older than she looks.

And training montage. Huh. Or at least I assume it is. I get the feeling being able to go where you want too and do what you want too is the main reason Hunters exist. There must be crazy tight immigration laws...or, maybe, its just that traveling between kingdoms is stupid dangerous cause of Grimm. I think the latter is most likely considering every form of public transit extra-kingdom we’ve seen (even between cities, see Argus Limited) has some kind of defensive weaponry. Limited and ineffective, for th emost part oddly.

So you can take the exam at 18. Okay cool. Pre-that must be prep school. Wonder what happens if you wash out? Also I like how this dude is just “yeah, 7 years of training, we got this.”

I think this is the first time we’ve seen the other side of the moon. Or at least, the proper other side...bloody hell I STILL dont know how all those piesces are still held in place, the thing looks like it should start yeeting bolides at Remnant.

Better still we see it MOVE, rotate in time to the passing of years. So it literally does rotate on its own axis, and more importantly, unlike OUR moon, its NOT tidally locked. We only ever see the same side of our moon. REmnants rotates MUCH faster. Also it doesnt seem to have phases like ours does. I’ll check on why that is.

Well at least we have an explanation for why Cinders so damn good at fighting people. Trained by an Atlas Huntsman.

Also as a note the device is quite literally just an electrical Dust crystal attached to a necklace. Things the most inefficent torture device Ive ever fucking seen.

Wonder how often they have to change the crystal.

And there goes the moon rotating again.

I like how NO ONE comment on the blade going missing and that guy never came back for it. I guess he must have just bought a new one.

I get the very distinct feeling they wont just let her go honestly, permission or not.

AWWW WE DONT EVEN GET TO SEE CINDER MURDER THE SISTERS. Also no blood. Odd. Good kill on the stepmother though. Oh, that NECK CRACK. I like how all the bitch can do is try and shock Cinder, like, uh...adrenaline up? SHE HAS A SWORD? MAYBE FIGHT BACK?

Hah. Weak ass fuckin Atlas people. Also the clock going off in the back ground twelve times. How fitting. Welcome to midnight.

Also shes kind of glowing here cause the room is dark, and I find it amusing this is probably the last time she wears white.

And THERES the Cinder we know

Sick ass music, cool. Also THAT is an interesting semblance...I guess he turns himself to metal? Also DAMN his aura broke after THAT? Hes a Huntsman...ah who cares. Again probably in Cinders memory more than anything. Which at this point is probably about as reliable as a coked up hookers.

SHANKED. Sucker. You shoulda seen THAT one coming.

And thats all it took to get the shock collar off. Lol.

So what happened to the hotel? Did they just...write it off? I mean four people got murdered in there...

And now we’re back on the whale. HOW THE SCREAMING FUCK DID CINDER JUST...

Wow. She just got up after eating that blast. Fucking plot armor.

Merc making the hard calls honestly. Im actually gonna watch all of this now which is nice because I want to know whats happening in the real world. PITY MORE THAN HALF THE EPISODE WAS THIS FUCKING FILLER.

I like how Cinder just...goes quiet the moment she realizes shes lost Mercury. Not that he was USEFUL mind you but if I had to guess she liked being the boss. But now shes...basically back where she started.

So the whale is basically a ship. It has a bridge. Probably Salems throne room.

Man, Oscars literally just RTs punching bag this season isnt he? Literally in this case.

His clothes are still scortched too which I find interesting. The black eyes also staying. Auras not back up then? Aura repair and regen seems...werid half the time. Like RT does what they want with it.

Ah so someone finally says it...but at the same time what exactly does Salem have to fear? If she cant fight the whole world...what could they do? Maybe overwhelming her? It...Im having a hard time putting the “she cant be stopped” with “shes afraid of fighting all of Remnant”.

Somethings missing here. I know it.

The sound of the “door” opening reminds me of the Flood doors in High Charity in Halo 3s Cortana. Fleshy twisting.

Mention from Hazel, but AGAIN...no details. I guess if you nail down how she can do stuff its harder to write?

Glad someone made a comment on the futility of the Hunter academies.

I really hate how Salems giving us creepy mommy shades.

Hmm. So yeah the bridge IS the throne room/command deck. I like how Neo doesnt give a fuck is just casually kneeling.

Ah okay THATS why he grabbed the scroll.

Heh. Interesting. How exactly does this work I wonder.

...Why does Salem have a ring. Has she always had that ring?

Neo looking at the Hound like “oh, I could ride this thing”.

Oh cool the Ace Ops. And they’re arguing, shocker. Sounds like Elm doesnt trust tech either. No shock there. Idiot.

Atlas elite. Yeah, right.

Huh, is this a Manta with landing gear? I guess they do have them...seems kind of silly to have them so high up though. I guess thats what the thing under the door is for, so they can deploy a ramp. Man, I really dont like Atlas’s airship design.

Hare needs some fuckin suppresants.

Annnnddd...here we go, things go straight to hell. I was warned of this. I am going to try and not be mad...but from what Ive heard the incomptence of the military in this particular section is astronomical.

Huh. So...Grimm can be convirted into a rock-punching liquid? Interesting. Has that always been a thing or... Also why the fuck are you jsut standing there in awe, go kill the fucking thing! Fucking Specialists.

...that is all it took to get through Atlas’s shield? THAT?

I also love how no one does anything. Ironwoods like “wait what the fuck”. Come on bro.

And...thats the Atlas navy. Everyone. Two lasers. One of which missed. Remind me again what exactly these things are used to shoot?

Wait, no, that took down part of it, and then the rest is, surprise, hitting the soft rock on the outside.

THERE goes the shield.

Hang on a second, how long have those giant squid things been there?

And...what. The whale just approaches, nothing happens? You’ve got 12 fucking ships there, shoot the fucking thing.

Again, WHY IS NO ONE DOING ANYTHING?

Oh, it just beach-headed. Okay fine, whatever.

Im not really worried.

Lets see how RT makes this WORSE though...

And thats this weeks episode.

#rwby #rwby v8 #spoilers #rwby spoilers

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velthequeen · 5 years

Text

You’re Not Allowed To Leave Me (Hank Voight Imagine)

-this is a hank voight imagine obviously that’s my husband

-this is going to be with khadasiah “sia” blaisie, portrayed by the beautiful tina kunakey

-imagine sia getting hurt on the job and hank going ballistic about it because they have a fling and he doesn’t want her to get hurt

**trigger warning: sexual assault, mention of r*pe, racial slurs**

***SMUT WARNING***

———————————————————————

It was a rough day in the Intelligence Unit. Hell, it was a rough day for Chicago P.D. in general. There have been a line of killings in the ghettos of Chicago, causing an uproar in the Latino/Hispanic and Black communities. They were protesting the police stations, harassing patrol officers, and retaliating in a hostile manner. but no one would give them information. The killings had been racially motivated. There were four bodies already, two latino and two black. One of the black men was shot execution style in the head. He was dead before he hit the ground, but that didn’t stop his killer from shooting his body 26 times afterwards. The other black man was lynched. The latino man was killed by a brutal beating, and baby powder all around his body to symbolize cocaine. The other was stabbed to death, and the killer wrote “Not so tough now, pendejo” in his blood. All of Chicago was on edge, especially Hank Voight. He was pushing his unit (plus Kevin Atwater and Kim Burgess), the Intelligence Unit, to find out who this guy or group of guys were. He was very angry and stressed today, but what’s new?

“Rough case.” Antonio said out loud. Hank was on the phone in his office, and everyone was at their respective desks, trying to put pieces together for this crime. Intelligence didn’t know if it was one person or multiple, but they knew that they were radical, racist, and had to be put in prison. Murder with a hate crime enhancement would give them 20 to life. Sia was still shaken up over the last victim. She had taken pride in her black heritage, so when she saw that he was lynched she got sick to her stomach.

The weather was changing in Chicago during this time of year. It was unpredictable. Sia had pulled her hair into a puff-like ponytail, her curls flowing from their place high on her hair. Curls were falling from either side of her face, and a bunch of people, including Sergeant Platt, had complimented her on it. She wore loose jeans that were cuffed at the bottom and hard black boots. Her white tank top was tucked into her jeans, a light blue button down shirt unbuttoned covering her arms. It was a casual day for her. She didn’t put on any makeup, but yet again she never usually did. Khadasiah was twirling one of her loose curls on her finger before hearing Hank come out of his office.

“They’re taking this from the history books. The man was lynched.” Sia said out loud.

“One of the last lynching in the US was in the 80s.” Antonio reminded her. He knew she knew, but he had to announce it. Alvin looked at Sia with a sympathetic gaze.

“Not good enough.” Sia mumbled angrily under her breath before getting up from her seat and storming into the break room. Khadasiah needed something to take her mind off of the case, so she decided to pour herself a cup of coffee. When she got to the pot, she realized she didn’t grab a cup, and turned around only to see Hank holding one out for her. She took it, withought giving him a smile. She wasn’t in the mood.

“You okay?” He asked her. Hank had placed his large hand on the small of her back, causing her to feel comforted. They had a thing going on. No one else in Intelligence knew about it. Hank had a stict ‘no in-house dating’ set in place, but broke his golden rule by having a fling with Khadasiah Blaisie. Sometimes it was sexual, sometimes it wasn’t, sometimes Sia wanted to pursue a relationship. But she knew Hank would dismiss her feelings on the matter. She was young, fiery, and compassionate. But she didn’t know if Hank would like to pursue a relationship with her.

“I don’t know.” She said as she took another deep breath. Hank turned her body to look at him. When she was trying to look away, he grabbed her chin and made her eyes meet his. “We’re gonna get this sick son of a bitch.” He assured her. Khadasiah nodded before pouring cream and sugar into her coffee. Hank watched her intently, and took the mug from her before she could take her first sip. He took a gulp of her coffee, licking his lips smugly before handing the cup back.

“You’re mean to me.” She mumbled childishly as she took a sip. “Oh yeah?” He asked with a laugh. “Mhm.” She said while drinking her coffee. He made sure no one was looking before pulling her head to his lips and giving her a sweet kiss to her hairline. She set down her cup and shivered when his lips got to her ear. “You look nice today.” He whispered in her ear. She smiled, the first smile she had in three hours since she got to work. Sia turned around, and Hank’s arms trapped her. His hands were on either side of the counter, and he was smirking at her.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Voight.” She said to him with a sneaky grin on her face. She wanted to kiss him but she knew someone could walk in at any minute. He smiled st her words before letting her go, resisting the urge to smack her ass as she walked away. What they didn’t know is that Al had heard the conversation. After Hank was back in his office, Alvin knocked on the door and was gestured inside. Olinsky closed the door and shoved his hands in hi pocket after fixing his hat.

“We may have a lead. Some convenience store’s security camera caught footage of two white males going in, buying snacks, and going out. Store owner called 911 after they left. Says they came in with blood on ‘em and he saw a gun on one of them. It was a block away from where the second murder happened. The shooting.” He told Hank. The man nodded.

“Take Ruzek with you to talk to the store owner. Tell Jin to clean up the footage to see if we have any faces.” Hank said, to him. Alvin nodded but didn’t leave the room. Hank eyed him inquisitively before the man spoke again.

“Something going on with you and Sia that you wanna tell me?” He asked his longtime friend. Hank shrugged as he looked at him.

“Ask her.” He said. Olinsky raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. He turned around to walk out, telling Adam to come with him. He eyed Sia at her desk. She was writing something down. Al walked up to her desk and tapped on her. “We gotta talk later.” He told her, alerting the others in the room. Jay snickered at her.

“Is the princess in trouble?” He asked her, causing her to roll his eyes. “Hey, uh, what’s Hank’s nickname for you this week, Sia?” Antonio said, poking fun at her. She huffed and turned to Erin with pleading eyes for support, but all the brunette could do was raise her hands defensively and giggle.

“Dollface.”

Upon hearing their unit chief’s voice, all of the Intelligence members remaining in the room looked up to see Hank standing at the doorway. After he said her nickname, Khadasiah blinked at him. He sent a serious glare her way. Oh, this was going to be a long day.

———————

When Intelligence found a lead from the store footage, they found two men named Ryan Glassley and Ethan Crenshaw. He was a frequent customer at a strip club, so Erin, Kim and Sia would have to go undercover has strippers to get to to them. None of the guys liked the idea, since anything could happen. Hank especially didn’t like it. Kim was so naïve, someone might hurt her. Erin was his foster daughter. And Sia...she was his girl. If anyone even looked at her funny, he would be in the cage.

The girls got ready at the club. Adam would pose as a bartender, Hank and Alvin would pose as customers and Jay and Antonio would be bouncers. Kim was posing as a waitress, Erin was a bartender, and of course Sia was a stripper. Her top was flummery and made of diamonds, a sparkly and loose bralette. The job she hated was that it had no support for her breasts. It wasn’t wired or fitted, it just hung loose. She wore brown underwear, ones that blended with her smooth chocolate skin. Hanging from her hip line was a diamond thigh high waist chain. It was cold against her skin, causing a shiver to go up her spine. No one in her unit had seen her yet, the dancers weren’t supposed to go out. She would be going in with no weapons so she had to be careful.

The music changed to some song, and the dancers single file came out. Khadasiah was that Hank was sitting right next to one of their targets, and Alvin was on the other side of the runway sitting next to the other one. Sia felt many eyes in her as she danced on the metal pole. “Damn, Sia.” She heard Erin’s voice in her ear. She smirked to herself as she swayed her hips. The poles rotated within the wiring inside so it would be easier to spin on. Sia looked like a natural dancing like this. She’s had to learn in more than one occasion how to pole dance, and actually thought of it as a good workout. The submissive suspect, Ethan Crenshaw, was staring right at her. She winked at him and continued dancing, and he threw some money on the stage. Sia crouched down to meet Ethan’s eyes.

“I do private dances, you know.” She told with a smile. He grinned at her, but Ryan, the dominant suspect in the relationship, flared at him. He looked purely disgusted. Ethan’s eyes darted from her body to Ryan, and then met her eyes again.

“Maybe later, sweetheart.” He told her. Sia poured a him. The diamonds of her top were shining in the lights. “C’mon, baby. I’ll take care of you.” She said seductively. Ethan looked at Ryan again, as if to get permission. When Ryan waved his fingers to the younger male, he smirked at her. “Lead the way.” He told her. Khadasiah hopped off the stage and took his hand, leading him behind her. Hank watched them with pure anger. He knew he couldn’t act on it. When they saw Ryan get up and follow them, Hank and Alvin met up at the bar where Erin was.

“Ryan followed Sia and Ethan. Don’t think she’ll let them pay two for one.” Al said to Erin. Kim came back over and put a drinks tray on the counter. “If they touch her, they’re getting their asses beat.” Hank said, his voice rough. Erin eyes him as Kim spoke. “I’ll keep an ear out. I have a bad feeling.” Kim said as she began to walk back. Hank was visibly uneasy. Al put a hand on his back.

“She’ll be okay. She’s tough.”

Khadasiah knew that her team was able to hear her, and the guys in the van could see her as well as hear her. Ethan was kissing her, and it was fine until he shoved her into one of the back rooms. “A little aggressive tonight, huh?” She panted. He gave her a devious smirk before they both heard the door open. Sia saw the main suspect, Ryan, come in menace in his expression. Sia looked from Ethan to Ryan. “Ry, what are you doing in here?” Ethan asked him. He smirked at his accomplice before getting in Sia’s face.

“You like white guys, bitch?” He spat at her. He might have been the shooter, but one thing was for certain: he was racist. Khadasiah raised an eyebrow. “I don’t do freebies. Pay to play. I’m outta here.” She said. Sia was trying to walk out, but Ryan grabbed her and shoved her against the wall. His eyes were full of hatred.

“You go when I tell you to go, cocoa puff.” He said as he pushed her on her knees. “Hold her down. It’s time for my 21 gun salute.” Ryan remarked. When Ethan gulped, his superior pulled out a gun. “Now.” He retorted bitterly. Sia looked up at him, obvious fear in her eyes. He laughed at her before putting the gun in her mouth. She stared it down before looking back up at him. “Scream and I’ll blast your ass.” He hoarsely whispered. Tears pricked her eyes. It reminded her of three years ago. That was a topic she never wanted to go back to. The suspect pulled her up and held her against the wall, rubbing his hand and his crotch against her ass. Sia sniffled and tried to fight it, but he put the gun at her temple.

“Ry, I think we should go.” Ethan said with clear fear in his voice. All Ryan could do was chuckle before doing her around and pinning her to the wall. Tears and mascara streaked down her cheeks, which Ryan laughed at again. His hands were groping her all over, and it hurt. He was rocky with his movements and handled her like a rag doll. This was more than playing rough. No, Hank played rough sometimes, but this was completely different. He was trying to hurt her. One of Ryan’s hands was grabbing her ass and attempting to pull down her underwear, while his other hand was pulling—no, yanking her hair to the side so he could leave bite marks on her neck. Sia’s lip was quivering as she struggled. Ethan was shocked and trying to figure out what to do.

“I bet you like this, huh cotton ball? I’m your master for tonight. And you’ll behave, or else I’ll do you like the last one.” He said as he tackled her to the ground. He hit her head with the barrel of the gun to keep her on the floor. “You stay down, milk dud. You hear me? I will blow your brains on the wall.” He threatened. Sia’s eyes welled up again. She punched him in the face and knees him in the stomach, but he grabbed her hair and banged her head against the wall. His gun was back in her mouth. When the team in the van saw that Ryan was unzipping his pants, they told her team to move. The door bust open, and Ethan and Ryan ran. Erin and Hank stayed to get Sia. Her hands were shaking, makeup running down her face.

“Go!” He screamed at Erin. She held her gun out and pursued the two suspects. Sia had been in the corner. She slid down the wall, her hands on her arms. Hank crouched down to touch her, but she flinched and shifted her body away from him. “You know I’m not gonna hurt you, Dollface.” He whispered in his gravelly voice. Sia gulped and got up from the corner. “I’m fine.” She said to him. Hank took off his black bomber jacket and wrapped it around her arms. Khadasiah kept looking at his shoes as Hank pulled her into his side and walked her out. Throwing these pricks in the cage would be the highlight of his night.

———————

Hank and Alvin were in the interrogation room with Ryan, while Ethan was in the other interrogation room with Jay and Erin. Antonio, Adam, Kim, and Kevin watched either interrogation with Sia. They all kept glancing at Sia. She was still in Hank’s jacket, her studded heels in her hands. She saw Hank roughing Ryan up, slamming his face against the boarded up window. Hank put his gun to the base of Ryan’s neck. The name only chuckled. The unit chief told Alvin to put their “new friend” in the cage. Hank’s came storming out, followed by Erin, Sia, Kim, Adam, and Kevin. “Blaisie. My office, now.” Hank said, alerting his other detectives to get back to work. She closed the door behind her. While Sia was excepting Hank to comfort her, he did the complete opposite.

“What were you thinking?! You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” He said angrily. Khadasiah flinched at his tone. When she didn’t respond, he continued. “You’re so high on your pedestal that you didn’t cover yourself. How could you be so careless?” He shouted. Her eye twitched and she tilted her head.

“You’re reprimanding me for almost getting raped?” She asked him as she stalked closer. Hank was silent, but his eyes were filled with something she couldn’t read. “I was forced to my knees, assaulted, and insulted, and this is my fault? Are you crazy?” She screamed at him. Hank’s nostrils flared.

“You were being careless!” He remarked in fury.

“I was undercover!” She exclaimed.

“You could’ve been shot in the head!” Hank was getting angrier by the second.

“I am more than willing to die.” She said the words before she could stop herself, but so did he.

“You’re not allowed to leave me!” He raged at her. Sia’s eyes got wide. What did he mean by that? His chest was heaving, and Khadasiah’s eyebrows furrowed. She walked up to him, putting her hand on his cheek. Hank looked down. Her hair was down now, flowing in curls down her back.

“Why would I ever leave?” She questioned him. Hank looked up to meet her eyes, and saw the gloss covering them. Hank couldn’t say anything, so Sia took her hand off his cheek and walked out of the office.

———————

“Aunt Jemima! So nice of you show up.” Ryan said as Khadasiah walked down to the cage. Hank was already down there, waiting for her. She got changed into some clothes she kept in a drawer in her desk. She wore ripped knee boyfriend jeans, black sneakers, a black and white plaid shirt, and a black tank top tucked into her pants. Her hair was pulled into a curly puff mess on top of her head, a sort of front ponytail style. Hank watched her walk down, holding out his hand for her to take, which she gladly accepted.

“Your ass is mine.” Hank said with a laugh as he looked at Ryan. They both stepped into the cage with him, Hank ushering Sia inside. She closed the cage door and looked at Ryan. “Miss me, ‘master’?” She sneered at him. Ryan scoffed at her. “You beat on my girl? My detective?” Hank questioned him with the voice. You know the voice. Hank’s “I’m gonna fuck you up” voice. Ryan’s eyebrows raised. “C’mon, man. I was only doing what’s right.” He said. Hank’s eyebrows furrowed. “You know how they get. You better put her in her place.” Ryan told Hank in a defensive tone. Hank made a ‘huh’ noise.

“You’re right, bro.” Hank agreed. He turned to Sia and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her into a deep kiss. Khadasiah smiled on his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck. She was on her tip toes, one of Hank’s hands on her waist while the other was tangled in her hair. A pleasured sound came from Sia’s throat before she pulled away. Hank winked at her. “You in your place now?” Hank inquired. Sia made a chipper “mhm!” sound, which led to Hank pulling her to his side with his arms wrapped around her shoulders. Ryan looked mortified.

“How do you sleep at night?” He spat at Hank. The sergeant scoffed. “Usually with her head on my chest.” Hank shrugged. Khadasiah let out a laugh. Hank pressed another kiss to her hair before looking at Ryan in the face. “If you ever,” Hank started while holding Ryan’s shirt and holding him against the wall. “Disrespect her again,” He said before punching him straight in the nose. Ryan hollered. “You’ll be in a bodybag.” He said before throwing Ryan to the ground. “When I haul your ass back to my interview room, you better tell us what you know.” The man only chucked and spit out blood.

“You’re insane.” The man told the sergeant. Sis just watched them. “Baby, go get that baseball bat over there for me.” Hank said, pointing to the bat without looking at her. Her eyes widened at what he called her, Before she could react, Ryan flipped the switch. “Okay! Okay. I’ll tell you everything you want to know!” Ryan said quickly. Sis laughed. “Didn’t realize my ‘master’ was a little bitch.” She laughed bitterly. Ryan rolled his eyes at her.

“You’re gonna get what’s coming to you, whore. You and all your little porch monkey friends.” He said. Sia just waved him off with her hand.

———————

They put Ethan and Ryan in cells for the night. Sia and Hank were the last two in the office. They were both finishing reports. Erin went home beforehand, giving Khadasiah a big hug before leaving. The two had become close in the time Sia had worked in Intelligence.

The curly haired French woman walked into the sergeant’s office, setting the manila folder on his already paper covered desk. Hank glanced at her before looking at the papers. He picked up the folder and lazily flipped through it before standing up and throwing the folder back down on his desk. Hank, being the silent romantic he was, said nothing as he walked to Khadasiah and pulled her against him. He pressed his lips to hers, dipping her a bit. Sia gladly accepted it, craving his touch all day. She whined when Hank pulled away.

“I don’t want you going home by yourself tonight, ‘mkay?” He said to her. Looking down at his detective, Hank kept his hands on Sia’s sides. Khadasiah remembered that Ryan said that there were more of them, that they were coming, so she was naturally on edge about the threat. The woman nodded and kept her head looking down. Hank embraced her and kept her head on his shoulder. After a while, they got ready to leave. The ride to Hank’s apartment was silent. It was big, cold, and Sia had spent a lot of time there in the past couple weeks.

“I need a shower.” Khadasiah said as she stepped into the apartment. Hank took off his jacket and hung it up on the coat hanger. He nodded at her words. Her clothes were in a drawer in his room, and she already knew where the bathroom was.

Hank swiping through his phone when he heard his bathroom door open. He could see that Khadasiah didn’t shower yet, but all she wore was a towel. “You joining me or what?” She asked before dropping her towel. Hank chuckled, set his phone down, and began to take off his clothes. The entire night was filled with loud moans, no sleep, and passion. He had her in the shower, against the sink, against the wall, on the bed, against the dresser, and against the window. Hank and Sia were usually a bit rougher when they had sex, but tonight it was slow and sweet. It was...making love. He was giving her slow strokes, causing her to whine, but he just went slower. To Khadasiah, it was agonizing, but it felt so good. They would need another shower after this.

“Faster.” Sia breathed out. She was on the bed while he stood, one of her legs over his shoulder while the other one was around his waist. Hank was going slow, pushing into her and pulling out at a painfully delayed rate. “What was that, Princess? Couldn’t here you.” He inquired with a devious smirk. All Sia could do was groan out. His hand was on her stomach while he thrusted faster, causing her to nearly scream. He went faster with each thrust, causing her entire body to jolt.

“Oh god.” Khadasiah moaned out, digging her nails into his arm. Hank looked at her expression. He loved when she made faces like that. When she made those pretty little noises for him. She made him feel alive. She was intoxicating to him.

“Not God, sweetheart. Voight.” He mumbled, causing Khadasiah to close her eyes and arch her back against the mattress. Hank had pulled her off of the bed and against the wall. His arms were on either side of her, holding her up. Her arms were draped over his shoulder and her head was lolling to the side. Hank alternated between making out with her and giving her soft kisses on her neck. He was pushing in and out of her at a steady pace, soft grunts coming from his throat. Sia held onto his neck while she looked in his eyes. He looked into her eyes and saw that she wanted to tell him something. He slowed his movements, but still went in and out.

“I love you.” Khadasiah purred before connecting their foreheads. She didn’t even realize she said, and she didn’t mean to say it either. It slipped out before she could stop herself. Hank hesitated before thrusting faster, eliciting a moan out of the girl on top of him. He hadn’t heard those words from anyone in a while. They went at it until about 2am. Khadasiah’s head had indeed ended up on Hank’s chest. He was stroking her curls, playing with them subconsciously. Sia was listening to Hank’s heartbeat. It comforted her to know that his heart was beating—that it was beating for her.

“You called me Baby.” She said against his chest. She heard his heartbeat quicken before he let out a chuckle. “Yes I did. You got a problem with that?” He interrogated. Sia scrunched up her nose and playfully hit his chest.

“You don’t have to be so hard all the time.” She answered. Hank pulled her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. His small way of an apology. Sia yawned a few moments later. When he played with her hair like that, she always got sleepy. He saw her expression and pressed his mouth to her hair, stroking lines through her hair and down her back. Khadasiah felt herself slipping in and out of consciousness. She was nearly asleep when she heard him speak again.

“Hey, hey.” Hank whispered.

“Hmm?” She hummed.

“Love you too.” He recited. He didn’t bother waiting for a reply. He heard her soft breaths, notifying him that she was asleep. He quietly chuckled to himself before falling asleep himself. This woman would be the death of Hank Voight.

#hank voight oneshot #hank voight smut #hank voight imagines #chicago pd #sia blaisie #crime shows #crime #tv show #crime / law / justice #fanfiction #imagine #oneshots #original character #character development

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polygon-streams · 5 years

Text

22/04/19 - Jenna & Pat streaming Days Gone

Pat and Jenna are streaming Days Gone for one hour because that’s how much they’re allowed to show us. The game is about fighting zombies (”freakers”), other humans, and keeping the main character’s brother alive, but mostly actually about riding a hog around. They also discuss the horror genre, Alien vs Aliens and if you can pet dogs in this game.

Link to the VOD.

The stream starts with a “Stay Tuned” screen, but Jenna is welcoming people in the chat.

“I’m just oiling my bike up, polishing my decals.”

“Yes I am steaming up my hawg”

Pat enters the chat to say “Yeehog”

Video starts at just after 6:00, Pat begins by saying “Yeehog” out loud, Jenna echoes back, Pat then immediately goes to fix sound levels

Jenna’s bike is named “The Tenderloin” and we’ll see why when she starts running down some zombies

Jenna’s played about 10 hours of this game, but we’re back to a specific save

Pat: “It seems like a video game” Jenna: “It certainly is that”

Subs get turned on, game audio gets turned down, Jenna says writing of the game is surprisingly good

Jenna: “about to make some friends”, Jenna then attacks and kills a man with a bat

Stealth is important in this game, freakers (zombies) can take a lot of damage, but stealth attacks allow one hit kills

Explanation of the game: it is like Last of Us, but with “sick hogs”

“There were no hogs in Last of Us, which I think is one of the biggest shortcomings.” - Pat

This is one hour into the game play and they’re only allowed to show us one hour of the game from this point, if they go over time Sony will send a biker gang and Jenna will be in trouble for being “too cool a biker”

An important mechanic of the game is marking “boyos” with binoculars, because enemies wander and it tracks their health

Pat thinks zombies sound like they are eating spaghetti. He also makes spaghetti eating noises. Don’t like that.

Jenna hasn’t had an issue with ammo management, Pat is excited for some “hog action”

Chat asks if the game is running at 60 fsp. Pat: “My gamer eyes tell me big no”

Chat really likes Pat’s gamer eyes

Embargo on this game is apparently pretty strict and maybe the lower fps is a preview setting

“Should we go deal with Crazy Willie’s infestation?” - Pat

Pat: “Oh, cool, you got a fleshlight” Jenna: “Uh, yeah, I guess you could call it that”

Pat, at the chat: “I said flashlight, why is everyone being weird?” (No, you didn’t)

The controller starts speaking and neither of them like it

They’re talking about hogs now, Jenna: “Hog ride real good”, “Hell yes you can drift this hog”, her previous hog got “metroided” (Pat’s word)

Jenna just ran over a zombie for chat. She did that for us.

Someone from chat says “Jenna is too good at games to know what happens when you fuck up”, Jenna is one with the hog, in tune with it

Jenna doesn’t like zombies surprise attacking her since she’s talking on stream

She goes to deal with a zombie infestation and keeps saying she’ll “release the Molly” (Molotov cocktails), she is nervous because there weren’t many zombies inside the nest

Apparently the freakers eat each other ??? like when one of them is dead, the other will eat it

Jenna kills a zombie, Pat: “Knife to meet you”

She said that if you kill a zombie, you keep their EAR!!

There are children zombies, which are called newts, and adult zombies will sometimes attack and kill them, which is “something”

There are human enemies in this game as well, Jenna: “as we all know, humanity is the true monster”

Pat says the zombs seem really dumb

He thinks they’re too easy to kill, but I think Jenna is just too good at gaming

They’re talking about horror! (timestamp 27:30, if you want a discussion about the origin of zombies in this game and whether they are infected or not)

Jenna says that she keeps thinking we’re over zombies, but we’re not, she predicts environmental horror as next big thing

“We’re seeing an emergence of horror movies where people without disabilities are forced to live the life of people with disabilities. Which isn’t great.” Go off Jenna.

Pat talks about Godzilla and climate change, also he thinks the new Godzilla looks good because it looks like a bunch of big monsters fighting

Pat asks Jenna what her favourite horror archetypes are

Jenna likes witches, but doesn’t like how a lot of the stuff is like “what if we were right for burning witches”, she also likes undead and cult stories

Jenna doesn’t like and understand the grading - she got 44% and doesn’t understand why

Pat says he thinks it looked boring, Jenna says she’s already done this story, so she knew what to expect

Continuing with horror (timestamp 31:00): Alien or Aliens? Pat likes the first one more, the second one is “a bunch of James Cameron bullshit”, they then discuss why they like the first film more

They are wondering how much of a good guy the main character is, as he kills nearly all other humans he meets, Pat: “and then a book about their murder plans falls from their body”

Oh we’re meeting Jenna’s in-game brother. A cult burned his arm because they didn’t like his tattoos. Pat doesn’t like his tattoos either. Jenna appreciates the aesthetic of a full head tattoo.

Jenna likes that every time the main character is asked where his brother is, he tells a different lie about his location.

Pat asks about “bike juice”, they then discuss game mechanics regarding the bike

Jenna’s having some hog trouble, she ran into a fence.

Jenna’s riding to go “fuck up some humans who have done nothing to us, but someone’s paying us to do it”

Oh shoot Jenna drove too far into the human’s camp and everyone is swarming to the bike, she stealth kills some from a bush, then runs away while shooting from an AK, Pat provides extra sound effects

Someone from chat asks what happens when you die, Pat says that that’s a difficult philosophical question, another ask is if the main character is going to hell, Jenna says definitely, there was some drug delivering she had to do

Jenna killed another guy with a wooden plank, Pat: “You just introduced him to the newest millennial trend: planking.”

Chat is mad at Pat for that

They discuss Rockstar-type open world games and having to do stuff for characters you don’t like

Jenna: “You know he’s [main character] a good guy, because he let that one woman go, despite killing ten people just before.”

Everyone in chat is saying that Deacon, main character, is a true feminist (probably because he saved that one woman???)

Pat points out that the location of the game is Bend, Oregon, the location of the last Blockbuster. Jenna will keep her eyes peeled for it.

“I feel like zombie fiction just gave up on scary and just goes for stressful.” - Pat

My cat just showed up to cuddle with me and I just think that’s worth noting.

Someone from chat notes that they got a blueprint for a spike bat, because you can’t just hammer nails into a bat, need a plan for that

The in-game brother says to the main character that “That code of yours is gonna get you killed”, Jenna repeats that to Pat, is this a running joke/thing for them? (Pat nods in response)

Pat has started yawning

Jenna starts riding and says “Hogs up, boys” (timestamp 51:47, I recommend listening to it), Pat asks, while laughing, if that’s what bikers say when they start riding, Jenna says that that’s what this biker says and repeats it, Pat laughs more

Pat: “Hills are sort of nature’s bike ramps”

They’ve decided to close out the stream “just ridin’”

Oh Jenna’s STUNTIN, she drives into a tree, Pat: “you are immune to trees”

Except she just ran into some people and has to kill them

She’s just freed Charlie Day from a hostage situation

Apparently the studio that made this also made Bubsy 3D? I don’t know what that is. Pat verified that with a quick google.

Pat asked if she can drive the bike into water, it killed both the bike and the main character

Pat yawns again

Jenna took out some more humans and then stunted too hard

“Ooh my bike’s really smokin’ isn’t it?” - Jenna

“It’s vapin’. You got a vape bike now.” - Pat

Jenna says that biking is the best part of the game.

Jenna’s hog has run out of juice and they’ve just decided to end the stream there

The game will be out on the 26th, that is it.

Jenna, rotating the camera: “Here’s Deacon. He’s doing his best, but that involves a lot of murder.”

Lighting round: haven’t seen other outfits for Deacon, can do hog upgrades, can do new weapons, the bike has a decal and a bandana (it’s part of Jenna’s gang)

Final note: Jenna hasn’t seen any dogs in the game, but there are wolves. You cannot pet the wolves, more “die by their hands”.

They might stream this game again once it’s out of embargo, they’ll stream also when they have other games they want to show us.

Pat has got the lunch time sleepies and that’s why he’s yawning, he says that Deacon is a bastard and “hog up, boys”, and that’s the end of the stream.

#polygon #days gone #jenna stoeber #patrick gill #pat gill #twitch #sidenote: there's two of us admins who worked on this post and sadly only one of us has a cat #winky #sofia

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katedoesfics · 4 years

Text

Shadows of the Yiga | Chapter 20

Link ignored the security guards shouting behind him as he took the steps two at a time and burst angrily through the double doors. Zelda and Roham were both standing before him as he made his abrupt entrance, causing him to stop short and allow the guards to pull him backwards.

Zelda stared at Link in shock for a moment before turning her attention to the guards. “What's the meaning of this? Release him.”

Link pulled his arm angrily out of their loosened grips and moved towards Roham, a snarl on his face.

“Link,” he said cautiously. “You look like shit.”

Zelda’s gaze narrowed on him. “Where the hell have you been?”

But Link ignored her, getting in Roham’s face. “Oh, do I?” Link snapped. “Funny, I was just enjoying a nice vacation for the last couple of weeks.”

Roham raised a brow as Link continued.

“Yeah, we had a damn nice time with the fucking Yiga Clan.”

“What are you talking about?” Zelda said.

Link turned his attention to Zelda. “It was great. They ambushed us, kidnapped us, and tortured me, all thanks to you.”

Zelda’s eyes widened. “What?”

“How long were you going to lie to me?” he barked at her.

“Link -”

“You dare accuse your queen?” Roham snapped.

“The Yiga Clan tried to kill us,” Link spat. “And they had some nice stories to share, too.”

“Zelda did not lie to you,” Roham hissed at Link.

“You're the reason my father is dead!” Link barked.

Zelda looked between Link and her father. “What the fuck is going on?”

But Roham said nothing for a moment, holding his gaze on Link. “Perhaps we should discuss this in private.” He turned his gaze to the weapon in his pocket. “Leave it.”

Link held his gaze as he took the weapon out of his pocket. He let the clip drop into his palm, then released the bullet in the chamber. He dropped the weapon carelessly and it clattered loudly against the floor.

Without another word, Roham turned away from them and headed down the hall. Zelda hesitated, her gaze moving over her friends before she followed her father. Link turned to follow suit, hissing over his shoulder to his sister as she too, tried to follow.

“Stay.”

Mipha stared at the weapon on the floor. Aryll stopped in her tracks and watched as her brother disappeared around the corner.

Link followed Zelda and Roham until they were alone in the nearby library, the double doors closed to outside listeners.

“Are you going to try to tell me that they lied to me?” Link said to Roham.

“No,” Roham said simply. “I'm sure what they told you is the truth.”

“They murdered him,” he snarled.

Roham hesitated. He spoke slowly. “Yes. They did.”

Link kicked at a nearby chair. “He lied to me. You lied to me!”

“I did what had to be done. The duties of the men in my army are of no concern to you.”

“The war was over!”

“The war is far from over, Link. The Yiga Clan are a threat that need to be dealt with.” He hesitated. “Your father did what he had to do to protect you and Aryll.”

But this did not calm the rage boiling inside of him. Link's hands balled into fists, his knuckles turning white. It took all his strength to keep himself from attacking the chair once more. He turned his attention to Zelda.

“Did you know?”

Zelda shook her head. “I swear, Link. I had no idea.”

“What are you going to do about this?” he said through gritted teeth.

Zelda hesitated. She turned her gaze to her father.

“Zelda,” Roham started. “Please understand -”

“Get out,” Zelda said, her voice strong. “You are not Hyrule's leader any more. This does not concern you.”

Roham held his gaze on his daughter. “Don't be foolish, Zelda.”

“Leave,” she said.

Roham met Link's gaze one last time before leaving them alone in the library. Once the doors were closed again, Zelda let herself relax, her hand flying up to her forehead.

“Link,” she started. “I'm so sorry. I had no idea what was going on. He kept this all from me.” She dropped her hand and met his gaze, her face apologetic. “Your father... I'm so sorry. I didn't know.”

Link turned his gaze away from her. “I need to know whose side you're on.”

“I'm on your side,” she said confidently. “I'm always on your side.”

“I don't care what it takes,” he said, his voice softer. “I will destroy them all.”

“Don't be rash,” she said. “We will figure this out, but we can't go in guns blazing.” She hesitated, looking him over. “What... what did they do to you?”

“Oh, you know,” Link muttered. “We had fucking tea.”

Zelda sighed softly and turned her gaze away from him. “Link -”

“I'm going home,” he said, turning to her. “I'm having a drink. I'm taking a shower. And then we can talk about this. I'll text you later.”

Zelda nodded. “Alright.” She followed Link out of the library back to where Mipha and Aryll were waiting.

Link grabbed his gun from the nearby guard, shoving the clip back into place in the weapon. Without another word, he turned away from them and made his way back outside.

Zelda met Mipha's gaze for a moment. “I'm glad you're both okay.”

Mipha averted her gaze, however. She hadn’t seen Zelda since… well, since she and Aryll apparently interrupted their plans of hooking up.

Aryll rolled her eyes. “If you ask Link, he'll deny it, but we were totally the heroes this time.”

Zelda forced a smile. She watched as Mipha pulled Aryll outside to follow Link.

They drove home in silence. Mipha sat uncomfortably in the front seat, casting her gaze onto Link every so often, but his expression was stone, focused only on the road. From the back seat, Aryll eyed the gun at his side wearily. She had never truly known what her brother was capable of, and the events of the last day proved to her that he was not the same man she had grown to know.

“Link,” she started softly, unable to forget what he had said to Roham. “What happened to Dad?”

Link did not answer his sister. He kept his hard gaze on the road, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the steering wheel harder than he realized. No one spoke again until they pulled into the driveway. Link cut the engine, but made no motion to get out of the vehicle. After a moment, he regarded his sister from the corner of his eye.

“Get in the house,” Link said, his voice hard. “Now.”

Aryll hesitated, turning her gaze to Mipha, before stepping out of the car and leaving them alone.

“Link-” Mipha breathed. It felt like she had been holding her breath the whole ride, and only now was she able to relax enough to speak.

“Listen,” he said, more harshly than he had intended. “Aryll doesn't need to know what happened to me.”

Mipha hesitated. “What happened?” she asked slowly.

Link kept his gaze ahead out the windshield. “I can't control it, Mipha. I'm sorry.”

Her heart thudded in her chest and her mind ran wild as she tried to guess at what had happened. “What? What is it?”

Link shook his head, his eyes closing for a moment. “I don't know. It's... complicated.”

“What did they do to you?” Her voice shook.

“They've been injecting me with... something dark. Something bad. I don't know, Mipha.” He hesitated. “It's supposed to... they mean to use me. To turn me against Hyrule. This stuff... it's supposed to darken the Triforce and turn me into one of their own. They plan to use me and Zelda to resurrect Ganondorf once more, then give him our pieces of the Triforce. They believe with the pieces darkened – without them being pure – it will allow Ganondorf to use its full power without the pieces breaking.” He paused for a moment. “I can't control what is happening to me. Eventually, I might not turn back to normal. I don't know how long I have until that happens.”

Mipha stared at him, unable to speak as she processed all that he told her. She turned her gaze to her feet, flinching slightly as he abruptly got out of the car. She quickly followed him outside where he paced for a moment in front of the car.

“What happened to him?” she asked softly.

His pacing stopped and he hesitated, looking down at the ground. He was sure now that his earlier interaction with his father was just a hallucination, since Roham admitted to his murder. “They murdered him. He went after the Yiga Clan and they killed him.”

Mipha hurried to him, wrapping her arms around him as she cried softly against him. He was stiff for a moment before his arms hugged her tightly.

“I… We could have stopped this.” His voice broke as he spoke. “We could have done something. But they went… they went behind my back.”

Mipha pushed away, wiped at her eyes, and met his gaze. “What are you going to do?” She was sure she knew the answer.

Link’s gaze hardened. “I will destroy them.”

Mipha hesitated and broke her gaze. “We can’t go back there,” she said. “We don’t stand a chance against them.”

Link said nothing. She was right, after all. He wiped at his eyes and made his way into the house where Aryll was anxiously waiting. She looked at her brother expectantly, but he did not regard her. Instead, he made his way to the fridge to get himself a beer.

“What… what are we going to do?” Aryll asked, her voice shaking.

Link’s brows furrowed. “I don’t know,” he said softly.

Aryll looked down at her wrist, inspecting it. She rotated it carefully and found it was as good as new, thanks to Mipha’s healing. Still, the events of the last week were scarred into her memory. And it was only now that she was safe at home did she start to feel the terror of the situation creep up on her. She looked up when she felt Mipha’s arm on her shoulder, only noticing then that she was shaking. She let herself drop onto the couch and Mipha pulled her into her arms. Aryll leaned against her and closed her eyes as Mipha ran her fingers through her hair.

Mipha turned a concerned gaze to Link. He frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose, then rubbed his face with his palms. He felt completely useless. Though he hated to admit it, he could not protect them. There was nothing he could do. He had to go back to Zelda for help. He needed to call on his friends.

He finished his beer quickly, then opted to take a shower in a desperate attempt to wash his problems away. Or, at the very least, not look as if he were on the brink of death. When he got out, he threw on fresh clothes, then made his way to his father’s bedroom where he stopped for a moment outside the closed door. He pushed it open, then headed directly for the closet, where he promptly dug through his father’s things until he found the safe he was looking for. He flipped the dial to enter the code and the door opened.

His eyes moved over the various weapons stashed inside. He selected two handguns and slipped a loaded clip into each one. He adjusted a holster across him, and just as Mipha and Aryll stepped curiously into the room, he placed the two weapons inside the holster, each under one arm. He let the door swing closed and pulled out his phone, ignoring their stares. He quickly dialed Daruk’s number, regarding them only as he brought the phone to his ear. He spoke as soon as Daruk picked up. “Hey. I need help.”

He could hear the concern in his friend’s voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Can you come over?”

“I’ll be right there.”

Link ended the call, then moved passed Aryll and Mipha with determination. They followed him quickly back down stairs.

“What are you doing?” Aryll hissed. “What’s going on?”

“We’re going back to talk to Zelda,” Link said simply.

“We are?”

He met his sister’s gaze. “Mipha and I are. You’re staying here with Daruk.”

Aryll hesitated. Her heart raced. “No. Wait. You can’t. I don’t… I don’t want to be alone.”

“You won’t be,” Link said. His tone turned to regret as he looked away from his sister. “Daruk will be able to protect you better than I can.”

Aryll’s voice lowered. “You’re… you’re coming right back, right?”

“Yeah.” He offered her a smile. “Of course. I promise.”

“We can go tomorrow,” Mipha said. “We need sleep tonight.”

Link hesitated. “We don’t have time to waste.”

“There’s nothing we can do about it tonight,” Mipha said. “We’re certainly not going back there. Not right now. For the love of Hylia, we just left that fucking hell.”

Link was too tired to argue with her. “Fine,” he said, turning to the fridge. He needed another beer. He sat himself at the table as he waited for Daruk to show. Mipha and Aryll settled on the couch where Aryll quickly fell asleep on Mipha. Not long after did Daruk walk into the house.

He sat himself in front of Link, staring at him hard. “Dude. Where the fuck have you been?”

Link shrugged and finished his beer. “Thought I’d go off the grid for a bit.”

Daruk’s gaze moved to the weapons on his friend. “And do some hunting?”

“Something like that,” he muttered.

His gaze hardened. “I want answers.”

Link shook his head. He rubbed his face with his palms. “I can’t right now,” he said. “I just need you to stay here with Aryll, alright?” He met Daruk’s gaze. “I need you to protect her.”

Daruk hesitated. “What the fuck is going on?”

“I’ll explain it later,” Link said as he got to his feet. He turned his gaze to Mipha, who was regarding him from over the couch. Her brows knit together.

“I thought you agreed to deal with this in the morning?”

“I changed my mind,” he said simply. He couldn’t stand to sit still in the house, and he just couldn’t waste time they clearly didn’t have any longer. He pulled his phone out to text Zelda, speaking to Mipha as he did so. “Are you coming?”

Mipha hesitated, but nodded. She carefully moved herself out from under Aryll, then joined Link at his side.

Daruk crossed his arms. “You know,” he started. “I will do anything for you, and I would never in a million years tell you you owe me, but man, you definitely fucking owe me an explanation.”

“Yeah,” Link said with a small smile. “As soon as I get answers, you’ll be the first to know.”

Daruk bit his lip. “Should I be expecting an attack?”

“I hope not,” Mipha said in an exhausted tone.

Link turned his gaze to his sleeping sister. “Keep an eye on her.”

“Two,” Daruk said with a nod.

#loz #botw #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #fic #fanfic #soty #shadows of the yiga #soty20

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drew-studios-official · 5 years

Text

Michael Afton as Sans

((OOC: This was something that was brought up in the Henry Fan Club Discord. Because why not, I decided to go for it, writing out this whole-ass fic for it. This is non-canon to Officialverse, it’s just something I wrote. It’s also kinda shitty ‘cause I haven’t written in a while but aaaa-

@official-michael-afton

Warning for blood and sorta gore, though no real details are given?))

Michael looks out the windows of the Judgement Hall, sighing. Everything that's happened over the course of this afternoon has been exactly the worst possible outcome. He knew the kid would likely kill them, and escape the consequences while they were at it. Damned resets. But this? This was insanity. Every last one of them. Dead. Sammy. Scott. Even Father. All stabbed through the heart and left to die. Because one child was given more remnant than they should have, and abused the power they were given.

Michael was brought out of his deep thought by a pair of small footsteps. The kid was here. He slipped his hands into his pockets, putting on his characteristic smile.

"hello? hello? hey, kid. i had a feeling you'd be here," he greets. The room falls to silence for a few seconds, as he focuses on the weapon the child was carrying. The bloodied knife. They take a step forward. Michael's grin fades.

"know what? i'm gonna cut the crap, kid. i've been watching you. every last move you made... though i bet you knew that, didn't you?" Another step was taken in response. They brandish their knife, pointing at Michael's throat.

"normally, this is the part where i'd ask a certain question. 'do you think even the worst person can change? that everyone can be a good person, if they just try?'" He puts on a smile. Then, he drops it, anger showing in his face as he continues. "i'm not stupid, though. you went too far, and i can't let you get past me. so, i've got a new question for you."

The room seems to darken, the glow in the Afton's eyes increasing as he flashes another smile, more menacing. "are you ready for you final night? 'cause trust me, if you take one more step forward... six am won't save you now."

A final step was taken. "alright... never had to do this for real before, but here goes nothing." The fight begins, the kid's soul emerging. "y'know, i always liked nighttime. the feel of the cool air, seeing all the lights in the city turn on at once..." He notes the kid's impatience. Trying to skip his dialogue. "oh? you want to do something, huh? that's cute..."

The lights flicker. Suddenly, the judge's eyes are glowing so much brighter. He raises his hand. "You think you're the one in control of this game?" A Spring Bonnie head materializes behind him, a bright glow in the eyes before it fires a beam of energy, aiming for the fallen child. They dodge, barely, only to find themself tangled in some kind of magenta wire. Their soul turns purple, as Ennard's wires travel along the paths at varying speeds. One manages to skewer the child, hurting them rapidly. But, in the end, they survived the first turn.

"like that? i'm just getting started," he grinned. The child, seeing no point in wasting their turn checking, immediately attacked, running for Michael with gleeful insanity. He dodged backwards, avoiding the slash before using the wires to pull the kid back. "why would i just stand there? that's how you get killed."

Then, more Ennard wires traveling along the purple ones. The kid manages to get a pattern down and avoids them by hopping between wires, before cutting themself free for their turn and attempting to hit Michael again. He sidesteps the attack.

"you know, i know about the resets. and i know what caused them, too," he explains in a chillingly casual tone as wires seem to come out of the ground, aiming for the murderer. They bob and weave between, getting them tangled inside each other, cutting through one that blocks their path with an insane grin. Michael watches, unnerved by their movements - they've likely done this a few times before already. They then dash forward, aiming for Michael's throat. He uses a wire to pull the kid away, placing them back in purple mode.

"father experimented with remnant plenty. he did some dark things in the process," he explains. Then, more Spring Bonnie heads form. His opponent bounces between wires wildly, avoiding the blasters as they fire beams of energy in a desperate attempt to break their soul. One does graze the murderer, but doesn't seem to do any worthwhile damage. They then cut themself free again, attempting to dash and strike Michael. The lights flicker, and he appears behind, tangling the murderer once again.

"he killed children. several of them, in fact. and used them to test how remnant worked. he wanted to see if he could bring someone back to life." He raises his hand, more of Ennard's wires traveling along the lines, also appearing vertically in an attempt to cut the child off. They manage to avoid the attack, though they are once again grazed no real damage is dealt. Breaking off the wires without their knife this time, they slash, and Michael once again dodges. "you remind me of father, in a way. that is, you never knew when to stop until it was too late."

Raising his hand, more blasters appear, firing powerful blasts of magic. Michael's fury courses through his wiring, even as the murderer dodges every shot. How many times have they done this before? It's getting frustrating. He knows he'll have to resort to drastic measures, but he hopes, he won't have to so soon. Then, it happens. The child is hit, head-on. It doesn't kill them - not surprising, considering the LOVE they must have gathered by this point. But it was enough to hurt them, and karma was doing its work as a result. His smile widens as he sees his attacker's health dropping.

They attempt to attack again, and they miss again. "moving on from that, though... you were the one success in his experiment. you were able to return to your own body with that remnant he injected into you... but, the dosage was a little stronger than he thought." Tangling the child's soul again, he prepares more blasters. This time, they move faster, however the child does, too. He can't lose. He can't afford to. Not now.

Releasing the child on his own this time, Michael watches for them to attack. However, karma had gotten them pretty low by this point, it seemed. They stop to heal. Taking the opportunity, Afton summons more blasters, watching the child take off running. The blasters are bigger this time, but the child seems to avoid them easier than the last time. He sweats a bit as he watches - he's not used to fighting like this.

Just as Michael's attack ends, they come to a stop in front of him, swinging. He dodges, but this time it grazes his jacket, a bit of cloth being cut off and landing on the floor. He sees the child's grin widen.

"that dosage of remnant would prevent you from dying, time and time again. no matter the cost. even if it had to break time itself to do so." He summons the wires from the ground, attempting to reach out at the fallen, to skewer them and drag them to hell where they belong. They cut through the first two before beginning to dodge. Michael's getting desperate. He then tangles them again, continuing the attack as the wires begin traveling along the path.

The child cuts themself free as the attack ends, charging at Michael again. They miss, predictably. "so why do i fight, you ask?" Michael says, damn well knowing they didn't ask anything. "because it's not just about making you die. it's about making you die so many times, you give up, and go back to find a happier ending... or just leave this world alone entirely. i'm not picky, heh."

This time, he tangles the fallen vertically, hoping to catch them off guard with the change of pace. Blasters still come from the sides, however. The kid dodges them with ease, cutting themself free again and hurling the knife at Michael. He sidesteps it, surprised they'd be so bold as to risk their weapon.

"that being said... you're really making me work up a sweat. so if you don't give up, i'm gonna have to use my secret ability," he warns, tangling them vertically again. This time, he holds nothing back. Horizontal blasters, and vertical wires. The kid gets hit a few times with this one, impaled by the wires, but seems to prioritize dodging the beams of energy emitted from the Spring Bonnie heads. He wonders why.

Releasing them from the wires at the end of his turn, the child rushes for the knife, before attempting a two-slash combo. Michael dodges both of them, sweating becoming more apparent as he pulls the child back with his wires. "yeah. my secret ability... that sounds familiar, doesn't it?" He sighs, remembering the ones he lost. This only makes him more determined to defeat the child, however. "if you last one more turn, i'm gonna use it. so, please, just die."

This one is a more simple attack, a sped-up version of a previous wire attack. The demon dodges all of them, grinning all the while, cutting a few of them with their knife. They're released, Michael preserving energy for the secret ability, as they swing with all their might, aiming for the kill.

"alright. here we go, then... Have fun in the fire." His eyes burning red, Afton raises his hand, creating vertical wires. Flames begin rising as blasters form above, firing down at the child below. They look distorted and grey now, though their beams seem to burn hotter than ever before. Climbing up the wires for dear life, the violent kid avoids the blasters in a panic. Then, the wires rotate, catching them off guard as they move upwards into blaster fire. They're sweating almost as much as Michael is... moreso when they reach the end of the wires, where they are wrapped to a column. In a frenzy, they take their knife and cut the wire off at the edge. Michael unleashes one final, large blaster, firing and sending the demon down to a single hit point.

Then, the lights go out. Michael knows it's over at this point.

"no... i... i can't lose, please-"

Laughing psychotically, the murderer charges him, cutting him straight through the chest. Blood spills, and wiring is revealed. Michael goes silent for a few seconds, falling to his knees and clutching his new wound.

"... i lost," he realizes. Tears begin to form. "i did everything i could, and you still won... damn it." Pieces of the lives that were lost flash before his eyes. Then, another strike could be felt. The child strikes him in the head, knocking him down onto his side with a thud. They raise their foot. Pieces of the lives that were lost flash before Michael's eyes.

"sammy... everyone... i'm sorry," he manages to let out, a final apology to everyone that he's failed.

Stomp.

...

Your LOVE increased.

#officialverse #undertale au

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anuknowha · 5 years

Text

Till Death Do We Part// Chapter 8, Selena’s Window

Yolanda sat there in her cell, marking yet another day on the wall. It's been over 24 years, over 8,760 days from when she was first convicted for her heinous crime. It felt like time would constantly move slow, the clock in her room would tick slowly, second by second passing. The ticks would be loud at some points, and at others, they would die down. Those sounds of the clock would ring through her ears and almost drive her mad. It was too constant, it was as if it were something she couldn’t get away from. Time itself was a constant reminder for her, it made her remember her mistakes. It made her remember when she killed Selena.

Currently, at her place on the floor, she was staring at the bunk bed in front of her that was always dormant. They refused to partner her up with anyone, she didn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve the company, she was meant to be alone. It pissed her off, she hated it but she knew this was the placed she earned in this world.

A curse left her breath as she was called out of her cell for lunch. She had forgotten what time it was. She looked outside her cell and there was a guard, standing ready with a key to unlock her from her prison so that she could be taken to me the mess hall.

“Come on Saldivar, its lunch time.” the guard beckoned as she grabbed her wrist roughly and led her to the cafeteria.

This was the only time that she was able to see other people, but she wasn’t allowed to communicate with them. She would watch them from a distance, as they would look in her direction and spit in it. And speaking of spit, she has been spit on multiple times by other inmates who even knew she had went to far. It didn’t matter what they did, or how long they were in for, they all hated her, despised her, all except a couple. The few who were supported were marked as “crazy”, they would sit as close to her as they possibly could; winking and smiling at her every time they passed her cell, or even just to get food.

They thought it was brave to the star out, they were always jealous of her fame and fortune.

“What does she have that I don’t have? A pretty face? I had one hell of a face before I was stuck in here, I could’ve been a star.” “She didn’t deserve to be so successful. I’ve seen girls prettier than her and she still got to the top of the charts.” “She ain’t make it look that hard, I bet anyone of us could’ve done this. We could’ve done this.” “Hell yeah we could’ve. Waste of time to think that she was going to actually see the end of her career. Thank goodness we had Yolanda here to stop her.” These were some of the things that had been said about her. They wanted to show their support. In their eyes, she was the most successful person there, she actually achieved something that most couldn’t or even feared to do. And with that they cheered her on, and worshiped her like a god.

It wasn’t always the same set of women, after all she’s been here for 24 years and not everyone was still there. Her first group was out on parole after her 9th year there. Second group was gone about a year or two ago. This third group seemed like they were here to stay, well at least one of them was. She was one of the girls from the last group, and older woman, placed back here because she decided to murder her boyfriend. The first time, she was in here for bank robbery. This woman just didn’t know when to quit, but Yolanda wasn’t surprised. She actually grew quite fond of her. And when her security walked away she would move to their table, admiring her admirers and listening to them talk about her success. She would laugh with them, and enjoy listening to their stories of how they ended up here and what they plan to do when they get out, no matter how violent their decisions were. But when her guard came back she rushed back to her lonesome table, wondering how long it would take before she could talk to her “friends” once again. It was the only thing she enjoyed, and it was the only thing to make her feel powerful.

After she finished her sandwich for today, her guard took her back to the cell that she hated. It was her home, and although it was now only 2 o clock, she was tired. She climbed into the bottom bunk and curled up, grabbing the pillow tightly and sighing into it. To be honest, she regretted everything, being part of the fan club and even meeting Selena in the first place. She wish she never knew about her, and maybe, just maybe she still would’ve been out living her life today.

She continued to think about the thing that landed her in this prison of life, one that she would more than likely spend the rest of her life in. She didn’t expect to be out for parole, even when the time comes, she was expecting everyone to never forgive her. If she got out, everyone would despise her, she won’t be able to get a job, and she’ll be struggling to maintain herself. After all, she was going to be over 60; almost old enough to get her social security and yet she wouldn’t have worked in over 30 years. She was going to be broke, she was never going to regain her life. And with that, she tried to clear her mind.

At dinner, she felt strange, she felt as if something was different, as if someone was watching her. She was slightly paranoid the whole time, watching everyone in the dining hall as they walked past her to their tables. It seemed like no one was paying her mind, and not even her biggest fans were looking in her direction today.

“I think her being in here as made her a little crazy.” one teased as she lifted her index finger to her head and rotated it in a circular motion.

“She’s been in here so long, what do you expect?” another one said.

“Maybe she’s just tired. Sometimes, when I don’t get enough sleep, I start acting a little crazy. You know, a little insane. Sleep is important for us.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know.”

“Should one of us go to check on her?”

“Nah, she’ll be fine by tomorrow.” the oldest woman at the table said as she turned in her direction and made a heart with her hands.

Yolanda just sent here a smile and a nod as she sat down the rest of her food, unable to finish due to the mental discomfort and the feeling of unease that tugged at her stomach. Needless to say, she was ready to head back to her cell.

Later that night, after the guards went home, she was slowly entering a relaxed state. She got comfortable as she laid down and turned towards the wall. She closed her eyes and drifted off into a sleep slumber.

At a quarter to midnight, she woke up, feeling like someone was staring directly at her. She looked outside the cell, and there was no one, the lights outside her small room were all off. The small light in her room was still shining pretty bright.

“H-hello?” she muttered out, only to receive no answer.

“Hello?” she mumbled out once more.

“I see you’ve aged quite a bit, must be the stress. You know, back when I was a singer, there was a lot of stress coming from being famous. But, I guess, being infamous can still put the same amount of weight on you. I wouldn’t know.” a voice came from inside the room.

“Who’s there?!” Yolanda jumped, sitting up in her bed, she looked around only to see nothing.

“You don’t remember me? That kind of makes me sad.”

“Who are you!? Show yourself!”

Selena looked down at her from the top bunk. She gave her a smile of both anger and disgust. “Hola bitch.” she stated.

Yolanda let out a scream, one that no one could hear. She continued to scream, before hopping off the bed and running as quick as she could to the other side of the room. He back pressed against the wall.

“You can’t be here!! You’re dead! I killed you!!”

“That you did, perra. But guess what? Since I was an innocent soul, I ended up exactly where you thought I would. In heaven, somewhere you’d never make it to. You know?” she giggled.

“This can’t be real!”

“You’re right it can’t be. It shouldn’t be, but it is, and here I am, in the flesh. My whole body, live and well with not a single bullet wound.”

“B-but how??” Yolanda swallowed hard.

Selena rolled her eyes.

“I just told you how, I’m in heaven.”

“No, I mean how did you get here?! Back to earth!?”

“That, is something I don’t know, but what I do know, is that I am back and I am well.” Selena said hopping down from the top bunk and basically floating to the floor.

Yolanda was still shivering in fear, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing and it was hard to even comprehend.

“You seemed surprised to see me.”

“Yeah!! Because you’re dead! I killed you!”

“You did. And how many years ago was it again? About 24? It's been a long time, and I bet you don’t even care.” Selena hummed as she took steps closer.

“I-I-”

Selena gets face to face with her murderer and looks her in the eyes.

“You’re not so strong without a weapon, without a gun to protect you huh? I mean look at you, you’re cowering in fear, afraid of what I might do to you. And honestly you should be.”

Yolanda grabbed the closest thing to her and threw it at Selena. It went through her, just like it would a ghost. She swallowed hard, her saliva almost getting caught into her throat.

“Trying to hurt me again? I don’t think you’ll find that as successful as you think. Too bad too, this would be a great time to prove how powerful you are.” Selena paused.

“I despise you for what you did. You killed me in cold blood in jealousy, for what? What did I ever do to you? I gave you a job, a home, and somewhere to be yourself, and how do you repay me? You murder me, right when I was hitting my peak of success, my peak of happiness. And not once did you dare to apologize. Not once did you regret anything that you did. Not once did you bring yourself to ever think about the consequences that you would bring about by taking me out. I lost my friends and family because of you, and they lost me. And it's all your fault.”

“L-look Selena, I didn’t mean to- I was just trying to-”

“Quiet!! I don’t want to hear it. You killed me! You took my life away from me!! I was happy and you just snatched it from me because you were being selfish!!” Selena said, tears forming in her eyes.

She tried not to cry but she couldn’t help it. Ghostly tears fell down her cheeks as she balled her fists in anger.

“I wanted to have kids! I wanted to start a family! I wanted to continue making my mom and dad proud, you don’t understand. I don’t expect you to understand. I really don’t” Selena shook her head and relaxed her hands.

“I’m sorry Selena!! I’m so so so sorry!! Please! Forgive me!! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to end your life like that! I was just being jealous, I just was angry that I might be forgotten or left behind by you by the time that everyone knew me.”

“I wasn’t going to forget you. I’m better than that; I’m better than you, and I always have been.”

“Selena!! I’m sorry!! Please!! Please forgive me!! I didn’t mean it!! I really didn’t mean it!!”

“Yolanda, I can’t. You did it, and you have to own up to it and you know this. I was trying to be there for you, just like I was everyone else. I wanted to make sure you were happy, that you were satisfied with your job. I wanted to see you succeed in life, just like I did, and you didn’t have to be famous to do that. You just needed to be happy, you needed to be content with what I was giving you and I was giving you everything. You had a lot of my attention, my time, and my love. You were in charge of my fans. You were to help me while I helped you. You were to be my best friend when I’m on the road but you didn’t appreciate it. It was never enough for you and I should’ve saw it in your eyes, I should’ve seen the anger and rage that ran through you for who knows how long? But you know, I tried to look past it, I was better than that. You know this, everyone knew this and that’s why they’re all pissed at you. They knew I didn’t deserve this. But what should I expect? Trust no one I guess.”

“Se-” Was the only last syllable she could mutter out before Selena cut her off.

“Vete a la mierda.” Selena said as she turned her back to Yolanda and walked away, disappearing into thin air.

Yolanda clenched her teeth, trying not to cry. She felt regret stab her in her stomach and she felt angry at her past. She fell to her knees, scraping them on the dirty cell floor. She screamed loud, her hands gripping tightly at her hair and yanking roughly, pulling strands out. She continued to screech, which echoed through the area that she was sitting in. She could feel herself slipping, wishing that she could take it all back.

The lights flickered. Before it stayed on for the rest of the night, this time, it was just a lot dimmer.

Chris was sitting in his room, his guitar in his hand as he strummed a few strings. He hummed a melody to himself, it was one that belonged to one of his ex wife’s songs. He let a long sigh escape his lips.

It was getting late, and he had been up all day trying to think of something to write, but nothing came to mind. And the longer he sat there with his instrument in his hand, the longer time slipped away from him and before he knew it, it was 1am.

“I wish Selena was here. It's been so long…”

He felt his heart ache. He felt empty inside once more, and that’s probably why he divorced his last wife. No one could replace Selena, no matter how hard he tried. He hung his head in dread.

“Bebe?” Selena’s voice came in a whisper from the other side of the room.

“Selena?” he lifted his head up to be faced with Selena standing in front of him, an enormous smile on her face.

“Selena!” he jumped up from the bed and embraced her in the best way possible in a warm loving hug.

“I missed you so much Chris.” she said, her smile fading only some.

“I missed you more Selena.” he said as he pulled away from her some, only to pull her into a deep, passionate and loving kiss.

Their hearts were beating a thousand miles a minute as they held each other in an embrace. They felt so warm and comforted.

“Wait, how could you be here!? I thought you were dead!?”

“I am dead, sadly… but… I found a way to travel here, and I knew I needed to pay you a visit.”

“Mi amor, its so late... “

Selena laughed and pushed him gently. She took a look at the clock.. “Its only 1 in the morning.”

“Pretty late to be visiting someone don’t you think?” he laughed.

“Fine!” she said pushing him harder so he falls back onto his bed in a fit of laughter.

Selena crawls on top of him and pulls him into another kiss, more passionate than the one before. Their kiss lasted for minutes before she pulled away.

“I’m sorry Selena.” he tried to fight back tears.

“About what love?” she said, questioning his worrying expression.

“I found someone else… but we got divorced! But we do have two kids… I’m so sorry.”

Selena got silent and felt something that she would assume, if she wasn’t dead, would be heartbreak. She shook her head trying to shake the feeling and gave a soft sigh.

“I didn’t expect you to stay single forever, and it wasn’t your fault I died. I just hope you were happy as long as you were with her.”

“I was, but I was never as happy with her as I was with you.” Chris mumbled.

Selena kissed him once more, wiping his tears away.

“Chris, I just want you to be happy, I don’t care how it happens. I don’t want you to just be caught up on me. I’m gone, and I can’t come back in any other way but this one. And it's not permanent. I don’t even know how long I can be like this until i have to return back to heaven but I wanted you to know how much I love you, and missed you.”

“Please don’t leave again.” he almost whimpered as he gripped her wrist.

“I have to, I’ve been on earth for a few hours now and I don’t want to miss out on talking to my family. Don’t worry, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Selena… I love you.” he said, tears continuing to stream down his slightly swollen cheeks.

“I love you too Chris. Say “hi” to the kids fo me.”” she said as she started to fade, her voice zoning out along with her.

Chris sat there, in his room in disbelief, but he soon began to smile. He wiped his tears away and laughed some as he realized that this was the happiest he had ever been in a while.

Soon enough, Selena was in her brother’s house, who was fast asleep. She planted a kiss on his forehead and rubbed his shoulder before leaving out. She then went to go visit her sister who was preparing for bed, and gave her a pat on the shoulder and a hug from behind. Her sister turned around and saw nothing and continued to prepare herself for sleep. Selena knew she would return a better time, when everyone was active and awake so that was she could spend quality time with them.

Lastly, she went to go visit her parents who were sitting in the living room watching tv. She appeared right in front of it.

“Hola mama, papa.” Selena said grinning.

Both her parents sat up and looked at her, wiping their eyes to make sure they weren’t dreaming.

“Selena!?” they shouted in unison as they both got up and ran over to hug her.

“You can’t be real!!” her mom screamed in disbelief.

“I am mama, I’m in heaven, but I managed to come here so that I can see everyone.”

“You mean you already visited Chris and your siblings?” her father wondered.

“Yes, Chris was awake writing music but my brother and sister were sleeping.”

“We just can’t believe you’re here mija! We’re so happy to see you!”

“Me too mom, I’m so glad to be able to see you again. Both of you, here alive and well. It's been so long since I’ve been able to have the embrace of my loved once and I wish it could stay that way.”

“I wish it could too.” her mother was tearing up,

“No, please don’t cry mom…. I know this isn’t forever but I’ll be back I promise and I know you’ll both join me in heaven. I’ll just keep coming back until you do, as much as I can,as often as I can. I promise.” Selena said as she started fading away.

“What’s happening?!” her father screamed in a slight panic.

“It's time for me to go I guess. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here that long. I’ll be back. I love you both, I always will… make sure you tell Marcella and Abraham that I visited them last night, and that I’ll return soon.”

“Bye Selena! We love you!” they said together as her father hugged her mother trying his best to comfort her.

Selena waved and blew them a kiss as she became nothing. Completely gone from earth’s surface.

“Selena! Selena wake up!!” the brunette shook her new friend’s lifeless body in worry.

“Selena!” She shook her harder, as she watched Selena finally started breathing again.

She gasped and opened her eyes. She sat up, almost as if she was startled and looked her friend in the face, giving her a big tight hug. She took a second to gain her breath, her chest heaving and her heart racing.

“I’m fine Lisa. Its okay, I’m perfectly fine.”

“Thank goodness…” Lisa sighed as she clinged to her friend’s clothing.

“How long was I gone…?”

“About 5 hours. I thought I had lost you. I wasn’t expecting you to be out of it for so long. What even happened…?”

“I-I’m not sure…” she said pulling away and scratching the back of her head. “I was able to visit my killer, and I was able to get in contact with friends and family. I was so happy to see Chris… and mama and papa.”

“How…?!” Lisa’s eyes widened in wonder and speculation.

“It must have something to do with concentration and thought…”

“I didn’t know we were capable of traveling to earth.”

“Me neither, not until today anyway. But, I don’t think I can do it again. It took a lot of energy and it was super stressful.”

Lisa grew worried and hugged Selena once more, the warm embrace comforting her as they sat there together.

“I want to know more, but I rather not have you talk about it. I don’t want you hurting or worrying.”

A knock at the door suddenly came and they looked at each other in wonder.

“Who is it?” Selena shouted.

“Um… its Mac Miller.” the voice behind the door said.

“Who?” Lisa asked.

“Mac Miller, the rapper.”

“We don’t know any Mac Miller.” Selena responded.

“That’s fine… but I just wanted some help… please? I was just wondering where we were and how’d I get here? Lemme in maybe?”

“Fine come in.” Selena sighed as Mac opened the door and walked in.

“Me too” a second voice came from what seemed like out of nowhere.

A dark skinned man with dreads and an accent walked in. He took a look around, slightly confused about his surroundings.

“I don’t know where I’m at either... “ he drifted off. “Oh, and I’m Bob Marley!”

Lisa and Selena sighed to themselves as their new focus was now on the two men in front of them.

Taglist: @lennonwhipped @rogers-flowered-blazer @caviarandqueen @caminc91 @sweet-mother-love @peacelennon

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aoida-blue · 7 years

Text

Death Debts (Jaydick) Part 1/2

For Jaydick week: day 7 Talons/Court of the Owls. Part 1/2.

A/N: Think of this as a rougher first version, there are still some revisions to come before it gets posted to AO3 (so feel free to hang on till then) but this is me, diving in to hit jaydick week. This part is 15k. Theres is possibly another 5/6k more in the last part. Bloody hell this was supposed to be a oneshot.

Having his own prisoner was never in Jason’s plan to get the hell back to his own universe. Having that personal prisoner be a Dick Grayson, a screwed up Talon obsessed with his (un)death?

Oh yeah, Jason was having so much fun.

Helmet torn off, Jason scrubbed at his face, peering at the screen in front of him. No amount of blinking could ease the white screen light that burnt against his eyes. No amount of blinking could change the results on the stolen laptop screen either.

The data didn’t lie. Meteorology activity in the place Jason had woken up, electrical disturbances, blackouts… the whole package. And damn it all if Jason wasn't too familiar with what that meant.

He’d universe hopped again.

Jason shifted in his chair.

Fucking metas. Sure, for a couple of vain moments after the blast of green light, Jason had thought he’d just been knocked out. A hope that gutted out when Jason’s nearby safe house was occupied by a young family, then his second safe house was home to five cats and an old man. The final straw had been the disappearance of all his emergency stashes around town.

It was blind luck he'd found this apartment, an empty penthouse apartment, dust collecting on every surface, but a macbook hidden under the bed.

There were only two outcomes that could get him home. One, that the Batman here was just as crazy prepared as his and had worked with Zantana on the Bat Universe-Corrector (god damn Bruce and his naming abilities). or that two, someone from his universe noticed he was gone, linked it to the meta and then… somehow found their way to him.

Shit and fuck.

“Who are you?”

Jason jerked, falling off the chair and into an easy crouch, hands snapping up his guns by his sides and aiming them straight at the voice.

But only one person stood there and Jason breathed out a giddy laugh, relief knocking through him. For a second he thought it was the meta.

“Thank fuck its only you.” Jason said easily, eying his visitor up on reflex, “Nice getup.”

And it was.

Armour platted, ribbed in gold feather like patterns, high collar and weapons accessible from any angle he wanted to grab them. It wasn’t really what Jason had pegged as Dick’s style, way too cool for him and too many weapons, but hey, different universes, different Dicks. Jason might even like this one better.

But there was something about the armour…

“A bit too much like the Talons don’t you think Dickie?” Jason asked with a notched brow.

Dick stood there, half-wreathed in shadows, face pale and warping down in a frown. He paused, statue still, and Jason felt a prick of unease at the back of his neck, his warning signs kicking off as the blank staring continued.

“What, you don’t recognise me?” Jason tried with a grimace, great maybe in this universe Bruce had left him in the gutter-

Dick moved.

He whirled, spinning, a whistling metallic song as blades materialised in Dick’s grasp. Their sharpened points flashing straight at Jason’s jugular.

It was only instinct, moves drilled in Jason’s DNA, that saved him. Jason lunged backwards, feeling the brush of wind as a blade skimmed past, then grabbed forward as soon as he was able, seizing the armed hand. But Dick was fast, and already another knife from his other hand was slicing up and Jason had to release him to knock it off course. There a microscopic hole in Dick's attack and Jason used it, barreling forward and taking Dick to the ground.

Shit. Dick didn’t just look like a Talon.

Dick hit the ground hard, armour creaking as he didn’t stay down, twisting as if to push himself upright again. Jason didn’t let him, pressing his weight fully Dick, struggling to keep Dick’s rotating wrists from snapping free from his hands.

“Look I don’t want to fight you.” Jason spoke quickly because heck, maybe he was still Dick under that Talon garb, maybe he just needed proof, “Your name is Dick Grayson, you come from the Flying Graysons and-“

An inhuman screech tore its way out of Dick’s lungs, and Jason was bucked off, pushed to the side and Dick rolled on top of him, blades raised high. Death reflected in everyone of those glittering daggers, and Jason moved quickly, he jabbed forward, heel of the palm straight into Dick’s exposed stomach, and when Dick dived down with the blades he was off balanced. Off balanced enough, Jason could force his arms wide as they came hurtling down.

One blade imbedded into the floor beside Jason's ear, reverberating hard. The other almost caught his shoulder, and Jason could feel it pressing against his jacket. And fuck it all, if this continued, Jason was going to die again. He wasn’t a match for this Dick, and Jason knew it instantly. He needed Dick distracted. Luckily-

“When you were very young your parents died in an accident-“ Jason spoke light and fast, desperate to find the word that could be his opening.

There had to be some weakness, some similarity in Dick between Jason's universe and this one.

Dick’s face twisted like there wasn't, like nothing Jason could say would break him. In fact, they made him look more murderous.

“You’re dead.” Dick spat, back arching high like a hissing cat, hands still locked on the dagger handles either side of Jason’s head, “You’re dead-“

Arguably true, at least in the past tense.

But Jason didn’t really want to debate semantics when Dick was distracted.

Instead Jason took his distraction, cuffed Dick under the chin - it wasn’t a good move, Jason didn’t have any power from that angle- but it disorientated Dick enough, Jason could launch up, toppling Dick to the side. Jason went with him as Dick hit the ground, rolling so his legs locked against Dick’s and pressed an elbow tight down his windpipe.

Dick lashed out, jolting and jerking against the hold, but he was unsettled, unbalanced and quickly loosing air.

Jason clung on, ignoring the pain from Dick’s nails as he sunk them deep into Jason’s arm, but finally, finally, Dick went loose. His eyes rolled back in his skull as he passed out.

He held for a long breath, then Jason pulled back quickly, pressing two fingers to Dick’s pulse to check he was just out and not dead. Cause yeah, Jason didn’t want that on his conscience. Even if it wasn’t the Dick he knew. Even if this Dick was totally and utterly a Talon.

Who had certainly killed some one before if that attack was anything to go by.

A strong pulse beat under his fingers and Jason released a fearful breath. Then, aching all over Jason collapsed to the side, huffing out at the ceiling.

“I already hate this world.” Jason muttered to the ceiling.

-=-

Jason was nursing an icepack to his head, a bandaged arm and a hell of a grudge when Dick finally roused again. And when he woke up, it was freaky.

One moment Dick was shifting against the rope, small unconscious twitches, just enough noise Jason had time to look up when Dick’s eyes sprung open and his entire body tensed. It was as if some sort of live wire ran under his skin and it had just been flicked on.

Dick’s eyes snapped to him. Nothing in his gaze but wild instinct.

Jason glared at him, icepack pressed firmly to his head.

Dick’s eyes shot around the rest of the room, then his eyes slipped a bit, relaxed a bit, and Jason was met with the cool disinterested gaze that was so… talon like it made Jason flinch. It looked so out of place on Dick.

How he had ever thought this was His Dick.

And wow that sentence never sounded right.

“That was clever of you.” Dick spoke finally, words a manufactured drawl.

It was a spoken like a threat.Which was clever of him because yeah, Jason had ropes and chains and handcuffs on Dick so managing to sound threatening while bound like roasting hog? Impressive.

Not that Jason would give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

Dick flexed lightly, visibly testing the bonds, and tilted his head. Jason was dead confident in his tying skills, but seeing that movement didn’t stop a small fission of alarm to go chasing down his spine.

“Cloning or advanced mask…” Dick rolled the words in his mouth, “Doesn’t matter. Jason Todd were sentenced by the court. You will die.”

That was a good little information nugget. Jason in this reality had been sentenced by the court. Go this universe’s him. Jason hadn’t accomplished that back home, maybe he would have if the Joker hadn’t gotten to him. Also sounded like this universe’s Jason definitely did die with that death sentence. Which. Least the universes were consistent.

Fuck the universes.

“That’s nice.” Jason said, insincere as he could manage, “Charming really Dickie. Don’t really care.”

Dick twitched a bit in the ropes and a muscle in his jaw jumped.

“You have been sentenced to die by the Court.” Dick said again, like a terse reminder.

“But Mr Bird Fetish,” Jason rest his head in his hand, let his words drag like an unimpressed school kid, “I actually don’t give a fuck about your court right now? Like honest to god that is the last thing I care about at this moment.”

Seriously Jason had a list of Things He Cared About. Right now, Evil Talons Brainwashing Dickie was not even on the list. As far as Jason was concerned that was someone else’s problem. More important on the list were matters like, well, you know, getting back to his own freaking universe. Finding Batman before any other former family members wanted to reveal their own tragic universe counterparts.

Jason had to just remind himself: this wasn’t his shit.

Talon Dick just stared at him, narrowed eyes and creepy as all hell, “You were sentenced by the court. You will die.”

Jason sighed. Yup so not going down that route but-

“I thought I was already dead.” Jason reminded Dick.

Dick’s shoulders jerked, like a whipcord of tension had snapped across them, and then Dick’s head tilted and his eyes widened.

“You were.” Dick spoke clear and even, factual, “But the sentence still stands.”

Jason took a moment to process that. Definitely fuck the universes. Then he stood, dusting off his pants, and drawing the ice off his head with a wince.

“So I have to die twice. Wow that sucks. What did I do to piss you off?” He shrugged, brushing off the thought, he was not going to get bogged down, he wasn’t, “But don’t care, doesn’t matter, more important stuff to do.”

All true. Jason had a fact finding mission to run. He needed a Batman, a Bat Universe Corrector. So Bruce Wayne was going to be his port of call and Jason didn’t need a fancy bat cave computer to find out details about Bruce Wayme. Jason dismissed Dick with a wave, grabbing his stolen laptop and setting up camp on the couch, legs chucked up on the table.

So if Jason Todd had died, and Dick Grayson was a Talon, it really made Jason curious to see what the hell had happened with Bruce. Probably more of a nutcase. Likely more of a nutcase.

Jason opened Google, but like a niggling fly, buzzing around his head, he could feel Dick’s stare drilling into the side of his head.

“What? I’m sure as hell not letting you go so you can grab some buddies and come back – also Dick, your buddies used to be Tim, Damian and Babs not Talons.” Jason played it light and glib, ignored the tiny pit of dread that had opened up his gut about what the heck had happened to them here if Jason and Dick…, “your standards have gone.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Dick said, “They will still find you and-“

“Kill me, wow you don’t say.”

Bruce Wayne. Plugged into Google. Enter and Jason was blinked at the billions of results that filled the screen, flicked over to News and-

Now, this universe was officially the worst.

Bruce Wayne had been missing for ten years since the Wayne Manor Fire. A fire that had started under ‘mysterious circumstances’. No body had been found.

Another quick search and. The Batman sightings were either very old or very odd. Given the existence of Talons… it wasn’t hard to work out what had probably happened.

Jason clenched his fists.

No. This wasn’t his universe. That wasn’t Bruce. Just like that wasn’t Dick tied up across the room. Just like he was still alive and not killed by the Court. Okay. He released his fists, found the cold rationality in him.

The Batcave had been fire proof. And Bruce’s equipment wouldn’t have just vanished with the old man’s death. Alfred was still listed in a sentence as still alive so he’d have them, and Jason would bet anything he’d have gone to the nearest ‘family’ member. So Jason just had to find out where who that was, if there was anyone, and if not, just had a track a unremarkable old man in Gotham’s swarming population.

So yes, maybe this bit would have been easier on a Bat computer. Damn it all.

-=-

Jason had a lead and a 3 am start didn’t seem so bad when he was getting out of apartment had thus far only had disappointments, computer work and near murder for him. He shut the computer with some vigour and turned his gaze on Dick.

“Stay.” Jason told him, setting his hood back over his head, and managed an extra dose of patronisation, “Good Talon.”

Dick narrowed his eyes, “You have been sentenc-“

Jason closed the door quickly, cutting out the inevitable and rolled his eyes. Imaginative this new Dick was not. But then no one had ever accused Court Brainwashing of being the secret to creativity.

Actually Jason didn’t know anyone who’d come back from brainwashing. The thought made Jason hesitate for a moment, pushed up on to the rail, grapple out.

No, Jason reminded himself harshly, this wasn’t his world.

Jason threw himself into the air, grabbing on to the next roof top and hauling himself up and started running again, jumping and leaping over the next roof.

He kept an eye on the streets below, in case different reality meant different street names. But fourth connected to Fifth connected to Old Donell’s to Grey’s, and it was all so familiar. Too Familiar, Jason faltered briefly when it came to make the turn, his feet urging him up toward Ghost’s Corner, near where his old old safe house was, but Jason hadn’t come for that, and his safe house wasn’t in this universe. Instead, Jason made the sharp turn.

Gradually the buildings started to grow higher. Sleeker looking structures took place from crumbling brownstones, and drunk stragglers thinned on the streets below.

It had taken thirty minutes on the sky high route Jason had taken, slower than the cars below, but it gave Jason a good lay of the land around one of the city’s tallest skyscrapers and his target.

Jason crouched a block from it, the tall financial building he was on required some scaling and it wasn’t even two thirds the height of the apartment block next to it. If he wanted to get up to the penthouse of that place Jason was going to have grapple that high balcony and even that was beyond risky. Through his magnifying lenses he could see that fine red line sensor barely noticeably under the edge of the windows and the railing.

Someone that paranoid in a penthouse would probably have pressure sensors.

Add to that, if this was the home of who Jason thought it was? There was bound to be fifty more terrifying surprises.

Jason swallowed.

He was going to have to do it anyway. Set off the sensors, try not killed and then bargain for the piece of equipment he needed. Hopefully, he had it. He was the most likely of everyone in this wretched universe.

Fucking screwed up timeline.

Jason readied himself, reposition himself to a proper crouch and getting ready to leap over the gap when something sharp and cold touched against his neck, finding the very bare crease between hood and neck armour.

Knife or sword, it hissed as it rubbed under the hood.

“Explain your presence.” A voice demanded, sharp and sudden.

Didn’t even need to jump, his meeting had come to him. Jason almost laughed, then quickly decided against as he felt the sword still. Placating, Jason raised his hands, and turned his head slightly, just so he could catch a glimpse of this universe’s Damian Wayne.

Something akin to revulsion and regret twisted in Jason’s stomach at the sight of him. Damian was wearing dark armour, complete with mask, that looked near identical to what Batman wore, but tailored so carefully, and so disturbingly to his small frame. It just made what Jason knew about this Damian feel all the more terrible.

“Speak or I’ll take your head.” Damian’s words were no mere threat.

This was an Assassin and Jason had to treat him as such if he wanted to survive.

“Not here to fight.” Jason said keeping his words light and damn him, quick, “Just to propose a trade.”

Because if he was right, then this world’s Damian had never known Jason before he was killed off - and even if he recognised Jason it wouldn’t be a great trust boost since Jason should have been dead. But, if Jason could get him to agree with a trade… Jason could get the device he needed, and he could trade on the information that was more common knowledge in his world than was here. Like, for instance, the Court of Owls.

Damian could be very business minded and Jason had placed his bets on that.

“A trade?” Damian asked, a touch of archness melded with the cold in his voice, and the sword wasn’t moving, “You were going to break into my home were you not?”

“Look…” Jason trailed off suddenly unsure, he didn’t know if Damian went as Batman or not, and if he used Damian… but surely he’d know that Jason would know his name considering the location… ugh, it was too much so Jason avoided the nouns all together, “I have information on the Court of Owls. Put up as many defences as you like, but you’d like to know what I’m going to say.”

There was a tiny breath from behind him and Jason knew that his hunch was right. He had him.

“And what did you want in return?” Damian’s voice did not give away anything.

Ah the tricky bit.

“To borrow some of your equipment.”

“Which equipment, and how do you know I have it?” Harder, more suspicious.

For all Damian knew, Jason sounded like he was probably looking to make a nuclear bomb.

Jason smiled tightly under his hood, well, the nuclear bomb would be easier than trying to dimension hop.

“You are wearing his old armour -almost,” Which was better than saying you probably inherited it from your dead father, “and I’m not looking for anything weaponizable. More. Scientific.”

“Odd request.” Damian said finally.

Right then Jason’s knees were really started to hurt from the constant crouch.

“You would not even believe my story.” Jason joked lowly, “But the info will be worth it and you can supervise me every step of the way with the device.”

“Assuming I have it.” Damian offered lightly.

This time Jason did move, twisting so he could face that creepy bat-like mask and stare up at him.

“Well.” Jason said dryly, “I’m gonna need to check that you do have what I’m looking for before I tell you anything.”

Damian hummed, a low mocking note.

“Tell me exactly what it is, and I will tell you if I have it then.”

Would Damian help a dimension stuck stranger or just his universe’s stranger? Would he even believe Jason if he’d never gotten to the wacky space-magic part of the Robin internship? What if Bruce didn’t even have it in this universe? Too risky.

“Not that I don’t trust you.” Jason couldn’t help but say, sarcasm dripping from each note, “But I’ll need to see it with my own eyes.”

“What?” Damian asked archly, “Let you wander through all my belongings? That’s not particularly tempting.”

“Yet… if you want the information.” Jason dangled.

Damian laughed, mirthlessly.

“You are in no position to bargain. I have what you want and you have, I’m assuming, no other way of getting it. You will tell me the info, and then and only then will I get you the item you are after and only if I approve of you having it.”

That succinctly put Jason well and truly in a bind. Fuck.

“That involves a lot of faith from my part.” Jason sniped.

Damian smiled, thin-lipped, “You’ll have to trust me won’t you?”

Son of a-

“I think not.” Jason returned dryly.

Damian shrugged.

“Come back at 8pm, and we’ll do this in more comfort in the apartment.” Damian looked at him with something disturbingly predatorily for someone who was half of Jason’s height, “I need to set up my defences.”

Why did it suddenly felt like Damian was going to kill him tomorrow?

Well, this Damian hadn’t had Dick’s or Bruce’s no-killing regime but according to Jason’s research he still had Alfred.

Military trained Alfred.

“Sure, sounds peachy.” Jason agreed, thinly, because there was no choice.

He was going to wear so much extra armour tomorrow. Which fuck- he didn’t actually have because it was all back in the wrong universe.

“Good.” Damian pulled his sword back with a flourish, “Now you were leaving.”

Damian jerked his head at the side, at the hundred foot drop and the closest grappling building out of range. Jason lips pursed, cause, yeah, Damian was so fucking funny.

“Yeah, I was.” Jason sneered, stretching upright, and god, he swore his knees creaked up on the way.

He wasn’t that old, but jeeze, did it feel it then.

Damian was smiling that awful half-smile like he knew how uncomfortable that had been and Jason really wanted to wipe that expression off his face.

Because Jason was a truly an amazing human being, he didn’t. Instead, Jason pulled himself up to his full height and felt some sort of valediction in the fact that yeah, he was still taller than the brat. Damian’s smile dampened a bit like he noticed this too, and that right there, was a perfect farewell.

Jason gave him a jaunty salute, “See you tomorrow Mini Dark and Brooding.”

Damian frowned but Jason took a leap off the roof before he could respond.

He flew through the air, actually making use of his grapples of the way back, looping a long winding track around fourth and fifth until he was sure his black shadow was left behind before he dropped down onto an alley and waited a little more.

All clear and Jason finished his way back to his… stolen apartment. Or something. Whatever the owners hadn’t come home so either it was someone Dick had killed and… done something with the bodies, or they were on holidays. Either way the bills were overdue and everything in the fridges and cupboards was off. So until otherwise, home was were you left your bound Talon prisoners.

Jason cracked the door open, stifling a yawn beneath his fist and kicked it close behind him.

“You miss me Dickie?” Jason called through the apartment, “You’re probably hungry so I should bag a couple of mice for you and a hunk of piz-“

There was a creak and then something whistled through the air and Jason jerked to the ground, narrowly missing a kitchen knife. A kitchen knife currently imbedded dead into the door behind him.

Oh. Fucking-

Jason looked up and saw Dick come charging at him, hands still bound but another kitchen knife in his grip. How the heck-

Jason rolled onto his feet and and jumped back at the slash, then stepped quickly to the side at a stab, and grabbed the handle of the knife when Dick went to swing it a him again.

“You have been sentenced.” Dick gritted out, “And you will-.”

“How did you even get out??” Jason hissed between his teeth as he tried to overpower Dick for the knife.

Dick was strong though, too strong and that was leading nowhere, then Dick’s eyes flashed and there was a leg around Jason’s middle and he hit the ground hard with Dick right on top of him.

As if he was mocking Jason’s earlier take down of him. Fuck there was Dick’s warped sense of humour still in there.

The jerk had loosened Jason’s grip on the knife, and Dick yanked it totally out of his grasp, slashing the inside of Jason’s hand in the process and fuck that hurt- but Jason didn’t have the time to think because Dick had the knife raised in the air pointed right at Jason’s jugular.

“Die.” Dick whispered.

Dick started to bring the knife down and Jason’s eyes jerked wide and he reacted, whipping his forearm up to hit Dick’s chest and rolling them with a jerk of his hips.

“No thanks.” Jason bit out, insincere as he could.

Dick hissed, inhuman and terrifying as they rolled, the knife clattering out of his hands and rolling across the floor. Jason quickly gripped the handcuffs still locking Dick’s wrists together and held them pinned on the ground but Talon Dick played dirty and threw up a knee to hit right between Jason’s legs.

Jason bit hard down his lip and thanked god he had been wearing a cup that day. Still he’d been expecting a Damian sized hit, not a Dick sized one.

Before Dick could try that trick again, Jason knocked an elbow against Dick’s middle, winding him, and rolled them again so he could get a decent leg lock on him.

Dick thrashed against his hold but it was too tight, too strong for him to do anything but wiggle.

“You’re trapped-“ Jason started, going for the old logic route.

Dick cut that idea pretty fast.

“And you’re dead. You are dead.” Dick cursed, seeming more human than he had the entire time.

He was really hung on the idea.

“Yeah well, the court may have killed-“

“I killed you.” Dick spat out and all of Jason’s organs shrivelled up in his body, “I held your teenage body down as it stopped struggling in your pool of blood and they didn’t let me forget it. They made me kill you and they let me keep that memory so you are dead.”

Dick had-

In this universe Dick had killed him.

“People don’t always stay dead.” Jason said, but it was numb, a reflexive retort Jason had used in so many situations.

It felt numb. Jason felt numb. Trying to imagine the bundle of cheer and brooding Jason had known as the young Dick, the sweet Dick Grayson, killing him when Jason had still been a ungainly kid-

It was like a switch had been pulled somewhere in Dick’s head. The Talon froze, body stilling against Jason’s grip. Which was just as well because Jason couldn't feel his own hands too well at that moment.

“They do.” He breathed, and Jason had basically released his hold on Dick but Dick wasn’t moving, hadn’t used the extra space, “They do unless-”

Then Dick just went dead in his arms. Muscles loosing all their tension and relaxing sudden and hard, his head lolling back. Like he’d been switched off.

Jason reflexively checked his pulse, feeling it under his hand. It was like Dick had fainted but his eyes were wide open, still blinking slowly, and his chest was still moving.

Slowly Jason released him.

Dick stayed down.

“Are you…” Jason started.

Dick didn’t move.

This was his chance, the pragmatic side of Jason insisted and he moved.

Jason quickly got up, dragging him back over and tying him to the chair again, doubling the rope, tightening the handcuffs.

Dick just stared into space.

Jason sat back for a moment, staring at him. It was as if he had fallen into some sort of trance.

He had killed Jason. In this reality Dick had killed Jason.

Jason’s stomach flipped strangely and he felt cold and hot all at once, skin prickling.

-=-

Jason couldn’t sleep.

He sat staring wide awake, staring at ceiling, thinking of the boy that would probably try and kill him that night. About the the man across the room who apparently already had. Really made Jason wonder about what Tim, Steph and Cass had gotten up to. If they had plans to kill him too.

At the moment that wouldn’t surprise him.

Still it wasn’t him that Dick had killed, and he wasn’t the Dick that Jason knew.

Jason rolled over to his side , grabbing the pillow and clenching his fingers in to it.

It all wasn’t his problem, none of this was. It didn’t matter how much shit this universe had gotten into because it wasn’t Jason’s responsibility.

But-

But.

The wood floor creaked under Jason’s steps, echoing and making his presence known to about everyone in the apartment block as he made his way across the room.

Jason didn’t know what drew him there, didn’t really think too much about it, but Dick was still bound, bells added on, still safely locked away.

Dic- no- The talon was staring at the ground, eyes blinking, eyes shifting across the floor boards like the most intense staring contest. Clearly he’d gotten back from… whatever the fuck kind of state he’d been in. The Talon’s fingers fluttered at his sides, not trying to escape, but just – moving. Like there was a keyboard Jason’ couldn’t see.

He must have heard Jason, how could he not with that noise and with his training, but Dick just continued.

“What happened to you.” Jason asked, blunt and point blank, falling back to lean against the wall.

Dick’s eyes shot up to him and there was a strange sort of caution in his expression.

“I am loyal to the Court.”

Jason arched a brow.

“Yeah, no, not what I asked.” Jason replied dryly.

Dick’s head titled, and he looked strangely lizard like in the low light. All dark shadows and narrowed eyes.

“Isn’t it?” Dick drawled, “I know what you are.”

Okay this was totally not the conversation Jason was trying to have. Jason frowned.

“You do.” Jason repeated, a little slowly.

For some reason, Jason doubted that he was going to say Dimension-hopper next.

Dick looked away back to the ground, but his gaze was still on the same spot in the middle of the room, and he looked oddly… subservient.

“I am loyal to the court.” Dick repeated, and this time it sounded almost prayer like, “I am their talon in the dark, their weapon in the night.”

Creepy.

Also unhelpful.

“Great.” Jason opined lightly, “So I guess then you are never getting out of those ropes.”

A muscle in Dick’s face twitched.

“If that is what the court requires of me.” Dick said, low, “I live and die at their leisure.”

Dick thought-

“Woa there.” Jason blurted, standing up, “I’m not with the court.”

Dick didn’t look up, kept his head down. Like he didn’t believe him.

“I’m not.” Jason repeated, “I mean no way in hell would I ever join that creepy gang of shadow elitists-“

Vaguely Jason thought he should have stopped talking, should be using this knowledge to his advantage and boy he needed some advantage in this world. But it was too many shades of wrong.

Dick looked up, slow as molasses, something strange in his expression.

“You’re alive.” Dick said like it was his own death sentence.

Jason raised his hands, “Yes but that was a different universe and had to do Ras Al Ghul and a secret society and a Lazarus pit and maybe the world or universe or something being punched but I don’t-“

Dick’s expression could have been the textbook definition of disbelief.

Jason sighed explosively, “It’s true!”

“Its what you remember?” Dick queried lightly, not outright denial, but there was something odd about the way he asked.

“Yes!” Jason agreed, and maybe, maybe they were getting somewhere.

Dick’s expression shuttered off and he looked away.

“They can change memories.” He said, and he sounded bitter.

Arguing with a wall had probably a better success rate.

“Look I don’t care,” Jason dusted his hands in the air, “Believe what you want.”

Jason turned on his heel and threw himself on the couch, rolling to show Dick his back. It was childish and a little foolish, he knew, but the act gave Jason the tiniest bit of satisfaction.

He remembered only when he hit his borrowed bed again what he had wanted to ask Dick in the first place.

Didn’t move.

-=-

Jason dropped an energy bar on Dick’s lap the evening, didn’t say a word and didn’t look when Dick bowed his head his direction. He had more important things to worry about, but Jason still hid the kitchen knives and locked the door from both sides.

It was stupid, because Jason now held no illusions that Dick was at all trapped in that apartment, but still. Just in case.

He felt distracted on the way to Damian’s penthouse, thoughts drifting back to Dick, regardless of what he did. That was dangerous, Jason knew, because he was about to enter a high stakes Poker game with one of this universe’s most dangerous kids.

Fun times ahead.

Damian was standing out on the balcony , arms crossed and mask pushed back. Jason stepped unevenly on the rooftop when he saw that, saw the blatant disregard for his identity but Damian didn’t flinch, didn’t rush to put it on when Jason landed.

Deliberate.

Damian smiled at him, and it was the sort of smile Jason thought crocodiles had.

“Good Morning.” Damian said with a all-encompassing gesture, “Come inside for refreshments.”

Jason hopped down from the balustrade, eyeing Damian.

“Sure why not,” Jason said with a shrug, and copied Damian’s gesture at the door with as much mockery as he could manage, “After all I hate to be murdered outside.”

Damian smirked, looked him up and down and hummed.

“Funny, I thought you were already dead.”

And Damian swept inside, without even a look behind him, showing Jason his back without any hesitation.

Jason froze, watching him go, because Damian couldn’t know, he couldn’t. Jason reached up and brushed his hood to be sure it was all still opague, but it was fine and… and Jason had dawdled out here too long. He swallowed hard and forced his legs to move.

Inside the Penthouse was just as lush as outside. Big marble spaces, with white furniture and gold trimmings everywhere. Damian sat at the head of the long wooden table in the centre of the space, files at his fingertips, a coffee at his elbow and one placed across at the seat to the left side.

Jason could read so much into that placing, but he inside decided to focus on the fact that the coffee was steaming. The Damian he knew, couldn’t boil water, couldn’t make coffee, so assuming this one was the same, meant Alfred was definitely around.

It was a bit silly, but that made Jason feel a little less like he was going to be murdered. Also made his heart feel a little bit lighter but Jason was ignoring that.

Only a little less. Damian was still here, in this room, unsupervised.

“If you are going to insist on standing there, doing nothing, then I think any future deal we will have will be off.” Damian offered dryly.

Jason grimaced under his hood.

“Call it healthy suspicion.” Jason opted, and strolled over the table, wanting to take his time in getting there, “I mean yesterday was swords at throats, today its coffee…”

“Yesterday you were a stranger.” And Damian looked far too smug.

“And today?”

“I…” Damian paused, for effect like the little drama queen he was, “know more.”

“Do you now.” Jason said, mouth on auto pilot.

The seat was pulled out to the left of Damian, and Jason slotted in easily, but instead of sitting on the chair like Damian obviously intended, he turned at the last moment, sat on the table instead, body angled toward Damian. Predictably Damian’s face twitched.

“I do. But if you want to be coy about it, by all means, we can come back to that later.” Damian stood up, no longer dwarfed up Jason, “What is your proposal.”

How did he know and what. Jason had no idea but-

“As I said, simple, info for the lending of some equipment.”

“How do you know I have this equipment?” Damian asked, and it wasn’t a question, Damian just wanted to confirm what Jason already knew.

Jason leant back a bit, hand on the table behind him and watched Damian closely.

“Because it was part of Batman’s old equipment.”

Damian didn’t so much as flinch.

He had to know Jason was connected somehow. Narrowed down the list of people he thought Jason was then.

“Not very specific.” Damian said simply.

“What I need is very specific. Scientific, you could say.” Jason rolled the last word, he couldn’t reveal his hand, not yet, caution was the wiser move.

“You mentioned. And assuming I had whatever it was,” Damian hand-waved lightly, “How am I supposed to find a scientific specific something, I’m sure there would be a great many items that would meet that description in such a collection.”

And here was the next part of the gamble.

“You’re not. I am.” Jason kept his voice level, “You take me to Batman’s old equipment and I’ll know it on sight.”

Damian arched a brow, took his coffee cup off the table and sipped at it. Taking the moments to ponder, to think, when really Jason was sure, so sure Damian had already made his mind up.

“You must be very sure of what information you have-“

“What I have will be worth it.” Jason injected lazily.

“-and it will require great deal of trust.” Damian continued easily, “Especially someone that’s seen me without my mask, and is still wearing theirs.”

Jason smiled thin-lipped, tapped the hood.

“Sorry, this stays on.”

Damian sighed, like he was such a bother.

“Well if that’s it-“ Damian said slowly, clearly looking to close this up.

He needed some bait.

“I know Batman, Bruce Wayne, was killed by a Talon and I know the Court.” Jason injected, stating what he thought Damian suspected.

Damian froze, and something twitched in his face. Quietly he pulled his hands together and met Jason’s eyes.

“Do you have proof.” Damian said, short, succinct.

But his face was white.

Shocked.

Jason knew it like a kick in the ribs, Damian hadn’t really known Bruce had been killed by the court. The news had made it seem like Damian had been searching for Bruce, but Jason had been so sure that Damian know he was already dead. Particularly if Alfred was here.

And yeah, Jason totally felt like the world’s biggest jerk right then. It hadn’t been hard to piece together that Damian had been looking for his father. Easy to find out about Bruce’s death as a second hand comment from Dick more focused on Jason’s own murder.

Damian however.

Hell, it hurt Jason to think of.

What Damian must be thinking-

He had to get home.

“If you want more, we need to have a deal.” Jason said, and god he was going to be the nicest person in the fucking world to make up to Damian for this (even if it wasn’t his Damian).

He was such an absolute shit right then.

Damian looked young, so young, face suddenly vacant and staring at the ground. It was obvious he trusted the words - but why-

Then Damian looked up, his face a mask of cold indifference that started to shatter the moment Damian put it on.

“Yes, now leave.” Damian demanded, voice trembling.

He felt like something awful, something rotting scrapped on the floor and not worthy of anything, but Jason left, pretended not hear the shattering of ceramic as he launched himself off the rails.

-=-

Dick was exactly where Jason left him that evening. Folded over his chair, staring emptily at the ground. The power bar left unopened on his lap. They both knew Dick could at least get one hand free. But he hadn’t even tried.

Jason rolled his eyes, dropping the hood on the table with more force than he probably should have considering the explosives Jason still had in it. But screw it, he felt like shit, if he blew himself up in his carelessness he probably would have deserved it.

And Jason had even less time for Dick’s dramatics.

“So that’s your plan now?” Jason asked, annoyed more than anything else, “Just starve yourself?”

“I live and die at the Court’s pleasure.” Dick said, low, and subservient.

“Well then, eat cause the Court hasn’t issued your death sentence recently.” Jason snipped and hit the crouch, slumping hard against the pillows.

Guilt kicked in when Jason landed, and he managed to ignore it for one sullen moment. Then he sighed, and rolled over and stared at Dick, still bound, still looking sadly at the ground.

Fuck him.

Jason stood up, with knowing he was going to regret every moment of this, grabbed his combat knife from its sheath and cut through Dick’s binds. Dick didn’t immediately jump up, or try to grabble the knife off him and shank him - which was good- but he didn’t really do anything else either. Instead he just sat there as the ropes fell to the ground around him.

Jason stepped back, hands on hips and waited.

“Well.”

Dick glanced up, blinking foggily.

Jason sighed harder.

“Go on, get up, I’m sure your bursting to pee I’ve had you tied up for a full day.”

Dick just continued to stare at him.

“I’m not holding your hand, get up.” Jason said and pushed at Dick’s shoulder.

Dick was blank.

And yeah, this was the bit Jason didn’t want to do.

“Okay, fine, the court brought me back, and they have instructed me to keep you alive and with me.” Jason said, insincere as possible and Jason knew no one in their right mind would believe him.

Then again, Dick clearly was not in his right mind. His gaze sharpened and he rose.

“I live and die at the court’s commands.” He said, almost sounding relieved.

Jason pointed him in the direction of the bathroom and Dick moved off, not shutting the door behind him of fucking course, but at least he washed his hands afterwards and came back. He didn’t even look at the window or door.

Then Dick stood at attention next to him, and Jason threw the power bar at him and grabbed the phone.

After the day he had, he needed pizza and beer. He had a card he’d pick pocketed off Damian, because Jason went full asshole, he went all the way, and was fully intending to use it.

Dick did and said nothing, waiting on Jason with a eerie sort of satisfaction on his face that Jason couldn’t bear to look at.

-=-

At some point after the beer and pizza and another draining circular conversation with Dick, Jason had fallen asleep. A fact that only became apparent when Jason was blinking sleep out of his eyes and the sunlight was sitting just right on his eyeballs.

“Eulfh” Jason said, unintelligently and sun blind as he pushed himself upright and swung his legs over the couch only to have them whack straight into Dick’s bended knees.

Dick? What was Dick?

Dick, Talon Dick, and Jason jolted back, recoiling his legs onto the couch, adrenaline pumping hard and fast. But Dick didn’t move after him, didn’t pull a knife, just tilted his head and watched him.

Or rather Jason thought, kept watching him.

With the same fascination he’d had last night.

Jason groaned, dragging a hand down his face because yeah, thats right.

“Please tell me you didn’t stand there watching me sleep all night.” Jason muttered into his palm.

“I…” Dick faltered, and Jason peaked out from behind his fingers because huh, that was different, and then Dick frown and shook himself, “No. I didn’t.”

It sounded like a lie. But it was an odd thing to lie about for someone that confessed to killing this universe’s younger Jason without a bead of sweat. Jason shut his eyes wearily.

God. It was too much five minutes after waking.

He chose to forgo breakfast in favour of two cups of instant coffee, and with a look at the clock with a clearer head, he knew Damian was expecting him sooner rather than later. He moved past Dick, who chosen to perch himself on the back of a ratty sofa watching Jason move about the kitchen, and stopped himself.

He was relatively sure Dick was not going to kill him, yesterday had proven Dick was sure he was a court member or another Talon or something regardless of what Jason himself thought. He was less sure on if Dick would leave or not to get in contact with the actual Court. Cause Jason knew that regardless of what Dick thought, the Court would think Jason Todd, dead teen come back to life, would be more ‘actual risk we need to remove’ rather than ‘yay new team member’ like it was to Dick.

“You aren’t going to leave are you?” Jason asked, and winced because god, what a weak way of wording it.

Dick blinked slowly, “There is no need to.”

And it sounded honest. But.

“I’m going to have to tie you up. Er.” Jason said awkwardly, “Because I can’t risk-“

Dick didn’t even looked phased, which yeah more than a little disturbing, just got up, moved over to his chair and sat down, arms behind his back.

“Anything for the court.” Dick said, like a prayer, and Jason tied him up quickly thinking about the million the ways he was going to say sorry to his universe’s Dick when he got back.

Or maybe he’d just buy him an enormous chocolate butt and leave it on his doorstep. That might work too.

He left before he could think about it any further.

Of course, once he left Dick, Jason thoughts turned to Damian, and when they turned to Damian they turned to the way Jason had broke his heart at telling him his father that he had spent the majority of his life looking for was already in the ground.

Oh yeah, this universe was so fun.

Damian wasn’t waiting for him at the door this time, nor was he hovering on the adjacent rooftop with a sword waiting for Jason. No, instead Jason landed, unmet on Damian’s balcony and was forced to awkwardly knock on the balcony door.

Damian opened it.

He wasn’t in his semi-batman garb, he wasn’t dressed like a rich princeling with daggers up his sleeve. No. This time Damian was dressed in dark stealth like clothes, loose and made to blend in.

“Hi.” Jason said shortly, “Are you-“

Damian looked at him, blankly, turned leaving the door open, and walked inside. There wasn’t anything else to do, so Jason followed. Damian took them to the dinner room, and where yesterday had been clean surfaces was today organised chaos. Newspaper cuttings, hand-written letters, photos, all arranged across every inch of the long table.

It wasn’t the work of one night, Jason saw instantly, it was the work of years. Too much information, too many likely and different sources given away by the tells of all the varying forms, the fluctuating quality from a blood stained napkin to official police reports.

In the mess, Jason saw Bruce’s name repeated over and over, both in alias and in truth.

God.

“Explain.” Damian said, short and sharp and when Jason flinched up, Damian was staring at him, “I can work out of some it, but… I can’t grasp it all. You said you had information. Explain what happened.”

Damian had dark circles under his eyes, eyelashes were still clumped from tears, and Jason felt wretched all over again. Damian didn’t deserve this, not in any universe, but Jason? He couldn’t help him. Not long-term. He couldn’t stay.

“First.” Jason tasted the words, bitter in his mouth, “We need a deal. What I’m after, for the intel..” Jason said finally.

Damian’s expressed shuttered further and yes, Jason was a bastard, an utter bastard.

“We do not have time for that.” Damian said, slow and poisonous, “I’ve detected…an opening. What you need I have and I can guarantee that, your information is worth less the more time passes.”

An opening. Oh. Hell.

“You can’t go after the Court.” The words fell out before Jason could stop them, high with disbelief.

The corners of Damian’s eyes tightened, “That is none of your concern.”

Jason snorted, “Oh no of course not. Why should I care when it’ll be my information that gets you killed.”

“Exactly.” Damian agreed, the little snot nosed punk, “Now are you going to give me the intel or I am going to have cancel our deal.”

God. Damn It.

Jason pressed his hand against his hood, wishing for once he didn’t have it on so he could pinch the bridge of his nose because fuck his life.

“Look. I think you need to talk to someone.” Alfred, god, Alfred had better be the same in this universe ready to talk some sense into Damian, “If you go in there swinging, you are just going to get yourself and anyone remotely connected with you killed.”

Damian’s eyes were steel.

“Too much time has passed since his… death and in that time the Court has been growing, unchecked, wilder, more ambitious. More Talons roam the night, unmolested, and that cannot stand.” Damian swallowed, shoulders stiffening at his sides and grit out, “I will not let it stand.”

He spoke with an elegance all too familiar to Jason, one that was Talia all over, more so than his world’s Damian. But the stubborn pig headed ambition? Clearly there was a gene for that because that had to be from Bruce.

Damian was going after the Court. With or without Jason and without a Batclan behind him.

Fuck, this wasn’t Jason’s universe. It shouldn’t matter-

“Ok, new deal.” Jason said almost groaning, “I will provide you with intel and I will accompany you as a partner on your raids. Given that you will give me the device I want before the week is out, and that you will get the fucking Justice League when you see you are over your head.”

Damian smiled, and it felt like Jason had just fallen into the world’s biggest trap.

“I can tolerate that.” Damian told him, righteous all over, then without even pretending to seem unprepared for the situation, laughed right ahead, “Tomorrow we begin. The opening I have spotted is where I tracked a Talon to-“

Fuck it all, Jason was going to have get more info out of Dick wasn’t he?

-=-

Dick hadn’t untied himself, hadn’t done anything since Jason had left and Jason felt his insides jumble a bit at the way that Dick fucking didn’t even seem annoyed that he’d been tied up all morning. Everything was so darn wrong, and Jason tried to ignore that particular thought when Dick left to relieve himself.

When Dick returned, perching him absently on the sofa in the best vantage point of the room - which yeah Jason had noticed but he seemed more in wary alert than about to take out Jason - Jason decided pull another particular bandaid. He sat himself on the kitchen stool, swinging around to face Dick put his hands on his knees.

“Right, its time to talk Dickie.”

Dick blinked at him, unfazed, and god it made Jason want to see what he could do to phase him.

“What does the Court require?” Dick asked, easy as breathing.

“The Court,” Jason said with a grimace, and yeah Dick didn’t even seem to react to that either, “Needs to know what you know about the Court.”

Anyone with half a brain could figure out there was something wrong with that statement. But by the looks of Dick’s easy nod, he didn’t have half a brain left.

“Of course.” Dick said.

Well. Jason thought, that was easy. He’d almost thought that might have been the phrase that had triggered something in Dick, like, oh, say, Jason actually wasn’t the Court. Maybe that would have backed up the fifty times Jason had told him he wasn’t the court, and the insincere way he said he was now.

But apparently not.

How screwed was Dick’s head?

“Where is your base?” Jason asked.

Dick frowned, tilting his head, “My Base?”

Terminology maybe.

“Where do you go after to a mission, where do you sleep,” Jason waved a hand, when Dick’s face was still blank, “Er, where do you hang your claws at night?”

“After a mission I return to where I woke, there I either am given in a new mission or I am… stored.” Dick said the last word strangely and Jason stared.

“Stored.” Jason prompted, but he didn’t want to know, he really-

Dick looked at him, curiously head cocked as if seeing something Jason couldn’t, “A room, off a main corridor and I mostly wait. I’m not to be frozen, not yet, my missions are too successful, and the waking is too slow but sometimes it still happens. Between inactivity.”

They froze him. Or kept him locked up in a room. Jason glanced down having to shut his eyes for a moment, but Dick kept speaking.

“The Freezing tube is small, and the process quick, but its tight, and the waking is…” Dick trailed off.

Sweat broke out on Jason’s hands, his mind dancing on the image of a closed in tube, a tight box under the ground. Every breath he made sucking what little oxygen there was and-

Jason forced his eyes open. Dick was staring at him now, and Jason couldn’t shake the feeling that Dick looked… fascinated.

“Where.” Jason asked, voice rough.

“Past the main hall-“ Dick started but Jason broke in.

“No, where is this place, where is the compound?”

“I…” Dick frowned, “I know where but I can’t… The Court… I can’t…”

Dick’s hands were stretching out and back and Dick’s face was tightening, his frown deepening to sharp lines. Mental conditioning. Of course, Jason wasn’t surprised.

“Okay, don’t worry about that.” Jason dismissed quickly, and Dick’s face eased back into its expressionless resting face, “Could you lead me, a Court member, there?”

“Of course.” Dick said without hesitation.

Well. That was something.

Jason paused, as an idea hit him, he looked around the apartment.

“How long have you visited here?” Jason said slowly, because this place wasn’t just abandoned, not a top storey apartment even if it was a dodgy neighbourhood.

Dick actually smiled, looking over Jason’s shoulder.

“Sometimes after a mission I’d return here, store things.” His expression shuttered to something vacant again, “The owners had threatened the Court. They were sentenced to die.”

And die, they did. Jason had no doubt. It made sense why Dick had run into him that day. Still everything in the apartment was old, older than a couple of years. The papers on the coffee table were yellowed, and the old food in the fridge was puddles of mush.

“How long have you been working for them.” Jason asked.

“Time has no meaning.” Dick replied, back to eerily empty, “I live and die at the court’s command”

The question, Jason had already answered through his research, as scattered as he was. He picked up old papers that talked of a Robin before Jason, and the legal documents for Bruce Wayne looking after a ward named Dick Grayson, then the ward had vanished, unmentioned by papers except a sad missing child report. A year, at least on Jason’s timeline, before young Jason had entered the picture.

Then Talon Dick had killed Robin Jason at age fifteen and Bruce Wayne had gone ‘missing’ two years later.

And Jason didn’t want to ask that question, didn’t want to go down that path. He’d already put together the most likely outcome but he didn’t want to-

It wasn’t his universe, he reminded himself harshly.

But none of that seemed to matter anymore.

“Did you…” Jason asked and stopped, swallowed, forced himself, “Did you-“

“I killed you.” Dick said, and Jason’s voice died again, despite the fact he knew this, hew knew this and it wasn’t the question Jason needed to ask-

Dick’s expression was soft around the edges, something torn about the way he slowly slipped to his feet. Jason couldn’t look away.

“Order of the Court was to kill Jason Todd and I did.” Dick said, voice caught in a whisper, looking like that day he’d thrashed and thrashed until he stilled and barely moved again.

“Why.” Jason asked, unable to stop.

Because he’d been a kid-

“Bruce Wayne was a threat. He needed…” Dick said with a breath and his eyes danced down, danced away and Jason knew guilt when he saw it, “And I needed a lesson.”

He’d said that before.

“What did you do?” Jason had stood, barely registering his stool toppling over behind him.

Dick shifted to his back foot, face creasing, and unlike the confusion before, the lines were deeper, the edges pulled, and Dick’s hands pressed hard into his legs either side.

“I failed the court.” Dick said, “I live and die by the Court’s commands and I failed the Court I must be taught, I must be improved. I failed the Court so I must learn-“

“Dick.” Jason interrupted.

“I live to serve the Court. I die by their wishes. But they did not wish me death for my failures, they wished me to learn-“

“Dick!” Jason yelled and he reached forward, grabbing Dick’s shoulders.

Instantly Dick spun, eyes wide, and grabbed Jason’s shoulders and pushed all his weight onto Jason. Jason wasn’t expecting it, and he toppled back, Dick’s not inconsiderable weight pushing him back but before he could hit the ground, Dick moved, and they twisted to land on their sides and the room echoed with a bang.

Jason gritted his teeth, instantly pulling his arms up to break Dick’s hold -

But Dick had let him go, was already crouching low, staring out the window that-

Yeah, that was a bullet hole through the glass that had definitely not been there this morning. Jason’s eyes tracked that trajectory and saw the wall which had been behind Jason’s head moments prior, with a single bullet hole.

Sniper. Shit.

Jason got quickly up to a crouch, reaching in to pull out his combat knife strapped to his thigh, found the holster empty, and saw the glint in Dick’s hand, and instead quickly pulled out his boot knife instead. Dick wasn’t actively attacking him at present so Jason had deemed it a worry-later problem.

Current problem was a sniper.

Jason kept low, moving to the kitchen, to his guns, when two consecutive shots rang out. There was a crack of wood breaking but Jason quickly glanced back to Dick saw Dick unharmed but tense, and Jason knew he was certainly not hit, so why-

Then the window in the kitchen smashed open and the living room window exploded inward.

Jason just managed to roll to the side, to avoid a knife swipe and a follow up jab and Jason sprung to his feet, swinging out, but his arm was blocked by a forearm to his forearm, so Jason grabbed that arm, and ducked the follow up swing and spun his attacker over his shoulder and on to the ground.

Jason had just enough time to appreciate that yes, yes that in fact was a Talon, and this time with a face Jason didn’t recognise, and also oh shit, that was a Talon, and now Dick was armed too, he would swap sides and join the living room Talon and this Talon, and this time Jason might actually die again.

Then his thoughts were back on the fight as the Talon surged to his feet and slashed fast and hard at Jason. Jason ducked and weaved, blocking what with arms, and let the Talon drive him back into the kitchen and away from the other two. There was a minute gap in the Talon’s defences and Jason drive his knife forward in his own upward slash. He only skimmed the armour, but his knife caught the edge the Goggles of the Talon leaving the woman temporarily half-blind and Jason took his chance, kicked at the Talon’s head, landing a decent blow and then kept his momentum going and spun and ducked into a sweeping kick that had the Talon falling down and actually landing hard this time.

Jason glanced up quickly ready for the next attack from someone else, but instead there was only Dick running toward him, glinting knife in hand and Jason swore.

He lurched back, bringing his knife to a good defensible position, but Dick was fast too fast and Jason had moment to truly appreciate what an idiot he’d been trusting Dick with that knife, when Dick swung down his blade and-

And stabbed it right into the rising Talon’s eye. The Talon who had a blade a whisper of breath over the artery in Jason’s leg.

The Talon gurgled, then collapsed, knife spinning out of his control and away from Jason’s leg, and it was just Jason, squatting in the kitchen splattered with blood, a dead Talon at his feet and Dick hovering close enough to touch.

Dick slowly pulled back and Jason saw the blood he didn’t see earlier, the dark sprays of it on Dick’s armour, and the hand just visible around the corner.

“Well that… was unexpected.” Jason said, as level as he could, and then cause apparently he had a death wish, “You said I was sentenced to die.”

Dick moved, slick and stable, pulling himself up in a loose easy stance, eyes flicking across the windows.

“And die you did.” Dick said, cool as a cucumber with blood dripping down his blade, “The courts orders were to stay with you.”

Well the court orders Jason had lied about.

“Yes.” Jason said, stupidly. Because fuck, he didn’t actually expect it to remain like that in a combat situation.

Dick’s gaze flicked back over Jason’s head, to the living room and back.

“We need to move. I have a couple of other places, not known by others.” Dick said, all business.

“Yeah. Okay.” Jason said pulling himself upright, brain buzzing, mouth moving on autopilot, “Shame this hole was really becoming home.”

The biggest lie he’d ever told, but Jason looked up to Dick’s face, because Jason hasn't been the one storing things here for years, not little knick-nacks, not coming back here again and again…

Dick was looking right at him, “There are more important things.”

It felt like double-speak, and Jason stared at him for a moment, a moment too long because Dick turned, back a shifting wall of armour between them.

“Right.” Jason said, and his throat felt dry.

He needed to get out of this universe.

-=-

Damian's lead was a block of abandoned apartments, scheduled for a demolition last year that had never came. It hardly screamed Court of Owls to Jason as he inspected it with a dry eye crouched next to the mini-batman. The Court of Owls he remembered from his universe were rich snobs, mansions were their sort of thing. Jason could even dimly recall Alfred mentioning an underground lair, a labyrinth where Bruce had been captive. This, with its crumbling brick work and shattered windows, boarded doors, didn’t really look that sort of establishment.

“You sure?” Jason asked, keeping to the shadows.

Damian finished typing on a small computer, folding it away in his back pocket. He glanced over at Jason, white lensed eyes narrowing.

“Its not the Court.” Damian said with a sniff, “There were only four guards inside. Hired guns running high end narcotics. Cops en route.”

Wait.

“What do you mean ‘were’.” Jason asked.

“Were.” Damian repeated like Jason was an idiot, “As in, there were four guards but since I’ve disabled them there are now no guards. I’ve already looked inside but since you are the resident expert-”

“Jesus fuck.” Jason hissed, standing up stiffly because god damn it, “And what if it hadn’t been just four guards.”

Damian blinked at him, a stupid smug smile curling to life on his lips and damn Jason just wanted to wipe that look off his face, “Then I would have dealt with it.”

“And what if it had been the entire court you had just dropped in it? How exactly were you planning to get out then huh? I wasn’t here!” Jason waved an arm down at Damian’s stupid outfit, “I’m sure your ‘good’ and all but these people killed Batman and you had no backup-“

“I had backup.” Damian interrupted, smile faltering a bit at the mention of Batman.

Cocky, brash, fuck that was all too familiar. Jason had almost had this exact conversation before, only from the other side.

God. Was he turning into Bruce then??

“Alfred does not count-“ Fuck. Jason cut himself off but it wasn’t fast enough.

Not fast enough at all, Jason should have swallowed the damn sentence down because Damian straightened, eyes too bright and smile stretching wide. Just like Jason had just confirmed a theory. Fuck it. Damian had to know now.

“You really are pathetic at this cloak and dagger stuff, Hood.” Damian’s voice dripped with success, “Just give it up already.”

“Look. Kid.” Jason gritted out, ignoring Damian’s last comment entirely, it was safer that way, “If we are working together, that means we are working together. We scout, we go in together, or I just don’t tell you shit.”

“This output was from my intel.” Damian crossed his arms, “And if you withhold on me, I withhold on you.”

Fucking. Hell.

Jason pushed out a breath, and paced an angry line across the roof. Fucking hell, how had Dick been partnered to Damian without going crazy??? How?? Jason forced himself to a stop and glowered as best as he could through his helmet. Sure Damian couldn’t see it but it did make Jason feel fractionally better.

“Ok. Look, maybe you don’t trust me-” Jason started.

“You are still hooded.” Damian interrupted with a lazy shrug.

“But I reiterate.” Jason raised his voice a little louder, “If we are working together, we work together. I can hold myself in a fight, I’ve lasted against Talons before and clearly I need what you have.”

Damian shifted, arms crossed, mask warping as he moved through emotions Jason couldn’t quite name.

“I am aware of your fighting prowess.” Damian said, as if it was some great allowance, “And I suppose because of your expertise in the Talons means I would have a greater advantage in the field.”

Yes, Damian would. And a bigger advantage than he knew. Because his universe of not Jason was personally invested in not adding Damian's death to his conscience. The kid was a jerk, but there was a heart in there somewhere. Perhaps buried deep underneath the condescension and the pig-headed arrogance.

"Thank you for that grand and great compliment." Jason couldn't help but respond, words drenched in sarcasm.

"Your welcome." Damian, the brat, took it sincerely, "Now this was my lead. What are you going to add to this partnership?"

Partnership. The word gave Jason a terrifying vision of his future, playing the wayward Robin to Damian's mini Batman. And damn he needed to go home before that ever happened.

“I need to do some final confirmations." Jason said, "Be ready tomorrow night, midnight.”

Final confirmations being finding Dick’s hideout and checking there were enough Talons around to get Damian to admit they needed the Justice League. Then getting the device, and then getting the hell out of Dodge.

Hopefully.

-=-

Dick’s new safe-house was a cold, magazine-looking apartment in the Westend. Owned by a woman who worked more overseas than she did in Gotham and only came back, like clockwork at the end of each month. Dick had sworn it was unknown by the Court, found only by him on accident when he murdered a man nearby. Which was a another fun fact about Dick's terrible life.

Jason was due to meet Dick there after his little catch up with Damian, but, four buildings away, Jason swung to a stop. His neck prickled.

Dick's apartment scraped into view around the office building. No lights, no movement, nothing obvious about Jason's location about life. Unsurpising as Dick did tend to live in one spot in the dark but...

Something in the very edge of Jason's vision moved and Jason ducked under the rooftop ledge. He held, still and steady as he could, his hands pressing tight over his guns, a kick of adrenaline surfing high in his veins. Then, gradual as a glacier, he edged up, risking a glance over the ledge.

A figure was leaping high in the air between buildings, caught for a breath in the glare of neon billboard. Then they landed on the office building, two across from Jason, and slipped like water off the edge, effortlessly disappearing down the fifty story height. The shadow glinted with a gold edging that was all too familiar.

Talon.

Fuck. Dick.

Jason tensed, rising to his feet. Dick was in that apartment he-

A hand flattened over his mouth, yanking him backwards and Jason kicked off the ground, intending to tilt their weight backwards but the figure who grasped him just stumbled back, retreating until they fell under the shadow ventilation unit and Jason twisted-viciously, turning, gun raised close between them-

“Jason.” Dick breathed, goggled eyes over Jason’s shoulder, “Don’t. Move.”

Jason had listened to orders for years, and just like that, the old training came back and Jason froze. They were close, Jason’s gun between their chests the only thing in between them. So close Jason could see the flecks of grey in Dick’s irises as his eyes flicked behind him. So close Jason could see an old scar nicking across Dick’s jugular, so eerily similar to Jason’s own. So close Jason could feel Dick’s tension wind up, like a coiled spring mounting.

The city glare reflected on Dick’s goggles darkened for a short, heart stealing moment and Jason’s hand tightened around his gun.

Jason imagined being caught. Imagined a hundred Talons finding them. Imagined Dick finally turning.

But then the glare returned, and Dick’s eyes tracked over Jason’s other shoulder.

They stayed, pinned together for another eight breaths, each feeling longer and longer, until Dick nodded, a slight jerk of the head and slipped out between Jason and the shaft. Dick poised, head twitching each direction then darted out.

Jason followed, close to Dick’s heels as he dared, down from the rooftops and sticking close to the sides of the old buildings. They stayed close to fire escapes and stopped at any movement above them.

Twice they stopped for an stray cat. Once for a rat in an alley.

Twenty minutes later Dick stopped in a Church roof, ducking behind a gargoyle. A familiar gargoyle and Jason bit down a misplaced sense of relief. Familiarity was not safety. Not by a long shot. A lesson he’d learn a long time before Bruce.

“So. They have clearly marked out all your former kill spots.” Jason told him, because it was obvious that they would have, it was stupid mistake of Jason to assume they wouldn’t have.

First rule of decretive work, work out where the criminal knew, where they had been before.

Dick’s head tilted, and despite nearly twenty minutes of flat out parkour, his breaths were even, “The rebel faction is larger than I anticipated.”

Large enough to be the entire Court. Jesus fuck Jason was literally skating an inch from death with these lies.

“Yes.” Jason said, tried for once to put some sincerity into it, “We can trust no one.”

Dick’s eyes fixed on him, and for a moment Jason thought that this, after all the bald faced lies he had given, that the only lie he’d put effort into had backfired. Jason shifted his weight to hind foot.

“You can trust me.” Dick said, and bowed his head, “I live and die by the Court, I serve-“

Nup. Still skating an inch from death then.

“Dick. I know.” Jason broke in, not wanting to spend more time reliving those fun vows, changed the topic entirely. “You told me once that you could lead me, a Court Member, to the place where the Court was storing you?”

Those sort of sentences had been why Jason had been so blaze with lies before.

Dick’s head rose, and his face had stilled, the faint brushes of expression he’d had before, cleaned off. It was funny to realise just how much Dick expressed himself now, after a only a couple of days in Jason's company.

“Yes. I can.” Dick’s eyes dropped down Jason, to his guns, to Jason’s waist where his swords were still clipped, his mouth tightened, “We will not survive a confrontation.”

That could have been a subtle insult to Jason’s fighting skills, or a general comment about the number of Talons. Jason couldn’t help but think it was a combination of the two and he frowned.

“I don’t want a confrontation.” Jason heard the sour note in his voice and continued, rougher, “We need intel, I want to stake it out, and since we currently have no safe house and no place to be…”

Cause when fate closed a door, or when Jason fucking locked himself in, he broke a window out.

“You are too loud, too obvious.” Dick decided, the most forthright thing Jason had heard yet from him, “Stay behind me, follow my footsteps.”

Just like Jason had been doing for the first half of his life. Fuck. Also-

“Fuck you I’m-“ Jason started and Dick’s mouth did something, flicked out wide, like-

A smile. Dick, Talon Dick, was smiling. His face lighting up like Dick’s, like Jason’s universe Dick. And fuck it all, Dick looked-

“Fuck you.” Jason continued, had to continue, clip his mouth shut, before he said something stupid.

He turned away, a strange feeling in his chest, hollow and too full all at once, and didn’t even get the chance to push it down entirely until Dick’s hand was hitting his shoulder, thumb pressing into his muscle.

“Follow me.” Dick said, and there was now that mirth in his voice as he added, “Softly.”

Jason groaned to himself as he followed Dick off the Church. Because save him, Talon Dick had found his sense of Dickish humour.

-=-

Of all places, Dick lead them to a series of low office buildings, right on the edge of the Docks. Four large old squat buildings, pushed between two warehouses made with a flat roofs and clear, almost painfully clear, rooftop entrances. Certainly not the mansion with the underground labyrinth Jason had been expecting, but then again, that mansion had been for the Court. This was just where they dumped their playthings.

“Here?” Jason questioned, low in the apartment they’d broken into.

Dick glanced at him, and pulled something from his pocket, he straightened it, flicking it forth until it extended, like a telescope. He took a quick look through it, adjusted the view and offered it over, careful to keep the angle the same.

“Here.” Dick confirmed.

Jason glanced through the telescope, it was angled at the a section of wall just jutting out from the warehouse. However, that was not what Jason saw through the telescope. Instead of wall, there was a small series of ledges, leading up to a small landing and a door. At that current moment a Talon was climbing the ledge. Jason pulled the glass away, the Talon disappeared and Jason was back to looking at a boring old wall. It even managed to look brighter as the sunlight slipped across it from the East.

Clever.

“Any other entrances?” Jason asked, offering the scope back.

“Three.” Dick folded the scope away, “The storm water drain, the right warehouse has an entrance and grate on the centre roof. The warehouse is filled with workers loyal to court. The grate is techically an entrance, however its electrified and netted with lasers and I've never seen anyone come in that way. If you wanted to be the first you'd have to be a lot thinner.”

Humour. Again. Dick turned to him, as if waiting for the response his witty remark had got him. Jason pressed the corners of his mouth down flat.

“And I’m guessing the storm water drain…”

Dick sighed, like Jason was missing out on his wit the magnanimous gift it was, “fingerprint recognition before a guarded entrance.”

“They have their own power generator?” Jason asked, casting another eye over the offices.

Normally accessing a target meant sweeping around it, checking records and dates and times of people leaving. They didn’t have the time, not if every moment they spent out on the streets meant the Talons were closer to finding Dick, closer to working out who and what had happened and they couldn’t risk circling the building on foot. It had only been a gut instinct and Dick’s timely arrival that had saved Jason from another conflict before, Talons were too quiet, too subtle.

Even Dick, in this screwed up universe, was softer and faster than Jason could have ever remembered him. Perhaps not as physically strong. But knives never needed more strength to part flesh.

“I am…” Dick seemed to struggle, “A generator I don’t…”

Another one of those few unanswerable questions.

“All good Dick.” Jason brushed off, because they would if they were any good.

And the Court was.

And all Jason had to do now was show Damian that they needed the Justice League and then get the Universe Hopper and-

“Have you seen enough?” Dick asked.

Dick.

Jason forced a tight smile, “Not quite, we’ve gotta take the scenic route out.”

Dick arched a brow. But waved a hand to gesture Jason forward and followed him out.

-=-

Jason’s boots hit Damian’s apartment at 11:00pm, the balcony doors opened and Damian sitting at the long table, sipping at a drink. He glanced up at Jason, not a hint of surprise on his face and gestured to the seat beside him.

“Drink, Hood?” Damian offered, swiping at something on his tablet.

“You’re a bit young to be offering me that, don’t you think?” Jason snorted, and took the offered seat.

There was another tablet on the table and Jason picked it, up, gratified to see it was all ready unlocked, and a map of Gotham lay at his fingertips, he zoomed in on the docks, and icons over each building popped up. Jason resisted the urge to snort, it was a mobile friendly batcomputer for the discerning Gen Z Batling. Good to see Damian was typical regardless of the universe.

“The drink offer was for tea or coffee, not any alcoholic beverages Mr… Hood.”

Alfred. Jason tore his eyes up, to the now open door on the right, and there was Alfred. He looked older in this universe, grief wearing deep circles under his eyes, a hunch in his normally straight back and the bones in hands were pronounced as he held his own cup, sipping from it slowly.

“Hi…” Jason darted a quick look at Damian, who cocked a brow at him, sitting back, and since Jason had already stuffed that secret, “Alfred.”

Alfred’s mouth thinned, and he eyed Jason steadily, as if attempting to peer through Jason’s hood from half a room away.

“I do not believe we are acquainted?” Alfred’s voice was all distrust curled in British indifference.

“We aren’t.” Jason turned back, pointed as he could, to his tablet.

The silence road in the room, high and uncomfortable as Jason pulled up the specs, playing oblivious to the looks Damian and Alfred clearly passed between each other. Then, abruptly, Damian snorted, pulling his own tablet to him, the same office blocks that Jason was looking at already on them.

“So then, I guess your research was successful. This is their hideout?”

The specs on the screen were the blueprints from the council, the latest one, renovations done in 97, had a layout that was as labrinyth-esque as office blocks could go. And a layout that completely contracted the blue prints dated two years earlier, and an exterior that hadn’t matched up visually with what Jason had seen.

“This is more of a Talon storage point. Their weapon hanger really.” Jason cast his eyes up, found them meeting Alfred’s, “If you go after the court, I want you to see all the resources brought down upon you.”

“Yes, yes and so I’d give up, you’d call the Justice League, and you get out with your device.” Damian rolled his eyes, “Your plan is terribly transparent. But there is a flaw with your plan, I’m assuming to test their resources you were planning to get them to react to something, which would inevitably increase their awareness and ruin any surprise we would have had when we go for the Court itself.”

Damian would have been correct. Had Jason not appeared in this bloody universe.

“You are not going to get them by surprise.” Jason winced, thankful his expression was hidden, “The Court is already on alert.”

“Oh really?” Damian’s voice was flat, “Did a Talon go AWOL?”

Jason had known Damian would hear of the scuffle with the Talons. They’d left the bodies in the floor of the apartment after a loud fight that the neighbours would have called in. But Damian had said AWOL, not dead, and there was no way, no way at all that he could have known about Dick.

Still Damian looked too confident, too knowing.

“The point is,” avoiding the question was as good as admitting it, but there were no good options left to Jason, “That the Court is alert and checking their strength and now is the only time we can blame some one else.”

That was what surprised Damian.

“Blame the AWOL Talon?” Damian shot a fire quick glance to the tablet and then to the Jason, eyes narrowing, “Explain your plan.”

“You’ve still got the motorcycles?” Jason pulled back to the larger layout of the Docks, “I'm going to need to borrow them and a couple of other gadgets.”

"To do what exactly?" Damian pressed again.

-=-

Dick’s armour was on the smaller side, but a cache of hidden buckles and straps meant that it still fit. It was tight, breathing in deep was hard, but the ensemble was light, easy to move in. Too light, Jason had doubts about the armoured nature of the outfit but. Hopefully he wouldn’t need that.

According to Dick the storm water drain was recorded for five miles either direction before the hidden entrance. So, by now, surely, they would have picked up on him, coming from the East.

But Jason’s only company in the tunnel remained the sloshing of his own footsteps, and the squeaking of distant rats.

Jason pressed on, shoulders back stiff and soldier like as he’d seen Dick do. Mimicking Dick’s movements were easy, Talon Dick had Dick’s liquid grace, one that Jason studied for years, that was broken up with a military stiffness that wasn’t unlike the SAS training Jason had endured in his rebirth training sessions.

The tunnel sloped around a corner, and the entrance came into sight. It was innocuous, a bit like a service door, round, vault-like door with a rusty looking keypad beside it. No obvious cameras, no high tech gadgets sticking out, just a very smooth looking job.

Jason went up to the key, and scraped his fingers carefully around the outside of the lock. The lock came up, like a flap, just like Dick had said, and the fingerprint pad stuck out.

Pulling a glove, Jason pressed his finger down. The silicone fingerprint over the top read quick and clean, flashing green and the door popped softly, and Jason flipped his gloves back on.

He cracked the door, glancing inside, hand pressing to the inside rim of the entrance.

There was a corridor, dark and long leading to a staircase, lit by warehouse styled long lights. Doors bracketed the corridor, every five metres or so, keypads and folders outside each one.

A shadow peeled off near the wall, and Jason held still as a tall, willow-like Talon prowled for him.

“Who do you serve?”

Jason ducked his head, held his hand to his chest, “The Court, I live and die by the Court’s-“

A finger ended with a savage looking metal claw, pressed under his chin and Jason’s hands dropped to his sides as he let the Talon bring his head up. He grasped the knife hilts at his side, and held perfectly still.

The Talon’s goggles were clear, and Jason saw the grey dead looking eyes inside.

“Who are you?”

“A Talon, a weapon in the night, a whisperer following the Court’s commands.”

The claw pressed deeper, pricking with pain.

“Who are you?” The Talon asked again, and there was a flicker of movement down the hallway.

Well. Jason had been expecting to get farther, but…

“A talon.” Jason breathed, hand firming around the handle of his dagger, “A weapon-“

With one hand he grasped the Talon’s arm, yanking down from his neck. The other plunged up, slotting in deep between the Talon’s ribs, just deep enough to risk a puncture of a lung if he pulled it out.

Then Jason shoved him back and it might have been shock, or may have been Jason had nicked something else but the Talon fell like a stone, hands at the dagger, mouth still open. Jason did not have the time to see him land, the darkness was moving, Talons materialising, glittering with blades.

Jason ran. He skidded to the door, ducking low, four blades flying over head, and dropped the flash bang and sprinted.

For a moment the drain lit up behind him, bright as daylight, every scrum line obvious on the wall, the rats scuttling away, and Jason’s exit two metres away and the next it was pitch dark.

And in the darkness, the sounds of boots moving in the water filled the air.

It was a blind grab to find the ladder, and Jason scrambled up, shoving up and driving right into comparatively bright street. He hauled himself up, nearly clearing it when his leg spasmed.

There was no time to think, Jason hauled the rest of himself out, saw the knife imbedded in his calf, pulled it out, tossed it to the side and slid the manhole cover back over.

He hurried to his feet, each step awaking the injury in a fissure of iron-hot pain, but he made the corner before he heard the manhole cover clatter open. Another corner, leading to a small alley and there, in glorious metal was Damian’s bike.

Jason flicked out the key, and hit the gas as soon as he was able. He rocketed out of the alley, three Talon divings for him at the entrance, their fingers scraping ineffectually across Jason’s back and the motorbike’s case, and Jason hit the street hard, skidding around to the major street in view.

His right arm jerked forward and a starburst of pain bloomed in his shoulder, radiating down his entire arm like a hot poker shoving through his veins, shocks vibrating through his hand.

“God damn Talons” Jason hissed out, barely seeing the road under him, the turn and traffic coming up, “Fuck.”

The bike wobbled beneath him but Jason clung on hard with his left, pushing the turn to right and breaking neatly between two oncoming cars. The cleaner, two cars in Jason’s sight and he pressed down as hard as he could, hearing the bike turbo’s whine high and thready underneath him.

“I’m fine. Totally fucking fine.” Jason tried to steady his breaths, but in each inhale it felt as it something was punching him down, pushing the air out.

He needed to access the damage. Fuck.

He pushed south, until the buildings were larger, flasher. Then with a flick in the mirrors he pulled hard into a alley.

As soon as he’d slowed enough, Jason glanced over his shoulder

There was a knife in his shoulder, almost in his armpit, blood trickling down in steady waves. Jason plucked his right hand from the motorbike, and attempted to curl his hands. His right hand twitched, and the fiery breath of pain licked right up his arm localised in a tight ball at the knife.

“Just Fantastic. Exactly what I needed.” Jason squeezed his eyes out.

The knife had hit a nerve. Jason needed to pull it out before it severed it. But. He needed to pull it out in a way that also wouldn’t server it.

Fuck.

“Right. This is fine.” Jason pulled out his empty knife sheath, unclipping it, and sticking the rubber in his mouth.

He bit down hard, the bitter taste of grease hanging in his mouth, and curved his right shoulder in as far as he could manage, and reached with his left hand. He touched the knife, a firm a hold as he could manage.

It flared, deep down to his bones and Jason bit down into the sheath hard. He imagined for a tenuous moment his arm sliced off, and surely, surely, that would be less painful. But the pain didn't stop, didn't end, and Jason's grip tightened.

“Right.” Jason muttered, blurred words with the sheath.

And he pulled.

The whiteness flooded back in, pain like fire igniting in his shoulder and his arm and then the ground raced towards him, the heavy motorcycle bearing him down.

Great, Jason thought, absent and foolish as he slipped, dying in alley, his life was so glamorous.

He was out before he hit the ground, the knife clattering from his hand.

#jaydick #jaydick week #jason todd #dick grayson #aoida fic #dear lord i tried so hard to finish this and I nearly did #four-ish more scenes to write #def not happy with the editing here so WILL ATTACK before a03 posting #talon!dick #fanfic

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