#If anyone was wondering the reason Joker flinches back is because he's expecting to get decked in the jaw
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The Joker comic I talked about is finally here!
I can't lie, I was pretty disappointed with how the reunion with Joker went in ME2. Out of all the characters, his should have been the most emotionally impactful (he saw Shepard die!!) yet all we got was "Sup?" as though Joker wouldn't have spent the 2 years dealing with insane survivor's guilt. Well to that I say pthhbt. My Shepard would have been beside herself seeing him again for the first time, so he's getting hugged whether he likes it or not.
Also while this is technically part of my ongoing Shakarian comic, please feel free to interpret this as romantic as well as platonic.
Part 1 • Previous Part • Interim Comic 2
#mass effect#mass effect comic#mass effect joker#femshep#commander shepard#sharky shepard#jeff moreau#shoker#jeff joker moreau#If anyone was wondering the reason Joker flinches back is because he's expecting to get decked in the jaw#He spent two years thinking about what would happen if he could bring Shepard back#Over time he convinced himself that she'd be pissed at him for getting her killed#At least enough that she'd punch him if he ever saw her again#He felt it was the least he deserved#sharky art
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The Demon You Know
Day 1 Urban Fantasy AU | Magical/Supernatural Creatures | Time Travel
So, something a little off the grid for my first day of DickTim Week 2021. Special thanks to my wonderful babe @vellaphoria for the beta and the incredible peeps on the Capes and Coffee discord (looking at you @themandylion, @strawberryjei and others). Also need to show my undying love for @chippon because babe, we are making it work.
**
When the sun creeps up over the sky in Gotham, then it’s time to GTFO. Capes in the daytime aren’t the usual for the city, and Red Robin has been playing it too late, staying out far past O’s warning to bring it in for the night. So, really, he’s only got himself to blame.
His penthouse perch has seen more use in the last few months since, welp, Gotham and the fact he likes to get away from the team mentality sometimes, like to return to his roots and run the rooftops like when he was still that Robin. His trips to the Manor had become more frequent since B was back in the cowl and things in the family seemed to be returning to some semblance of normal.
Well, as normal as it could get, really.
But all that goodwill and positivity is literally ghost. Red’s hands are shaky and his inner calm is absolutely blown. He’s ducking into his perch to throw his suit off, grab his duffle bag full of sundries and fake idents, then he’s going to hit the airport as fast as he can get a flight the hell out of town, away from the terrifying sight.
(He should just call Bart or Kon or Cassie, tell them he needs an out faster than he can arrange it himself, he needs to get away from–)
He knows he fucked up when the slight sounds, small and metallic in nature, make it past his pulse thumping in his ears.
Like a horror flick, he slowly turns as the front door gives a groan and is pushed open by a very familiar palm.
Dick’s blue eyes fall on him like a ton of bricks, on Red Robin’s feet frozen to the floor, his suit only half on, and no way he can get far enough to throw himself out a window.
Fuck.
“So,” Dick keeps his voice soft, footsteps easy as he steps inside Tim’s penthouse and closes the door behind him, “you finally found me out.”
Keeping his mouth shut in times like this has really saved his ass before, so Red doesn’t say a word, keeps every muscle in his body ready to spring for the right second –
Watching the would-be robber struggle in Dick’s grip, watching the light show brighten overwhelmingly, seeing what had to be-had to be feeding.
“I figured it would be you if anyone, actually, so I’m not really surprised, just… disappointed.” Dick continues softly, only in jeans and a t-shirt since Nightwing was oddly missing from the patrol roster last night.
And Red is apparently the only one that knows why.
“But that doesn’t mean I can just let you go, Timmy,” Dick isn’t stopping, his whole body lax while Red is wound tight, backing away from the man he thought he knew. “I really wish you hadn’t found out like this. I...I had other plans.”
Whirlybirds and pellets aren’t going to help him here. Hand-to-hand and martial arts, aerial acrobatics, none of it is going to make a difference.
His throat goes dry when Dick’s eyes get more and more blue, when his former mentor doesn’t stop advancing, and Red Robin is running out of room to back away.
“I tried to save you, Timmy. I tried so hard to get you away, out of Gotham, even if you went because you thought you had to find Bruce, I’m the one that gave you the compulsion to leave.” The low laugh is edged with something desperate, “why the hell couldn’t you stay away?”
“This is my city, just as much as Batman’s. You taking my fucking cape wasn’t enough,” Red Robin bites out, back thumping against the kitchen counter, realizing Dick had backed him into the corner. “How did you keep it from him? Constantine, Zatanna, all the magic users he has on speed dial and he never figured you out? No one in the JLA or Titans did?”
That makes Dick pause.
“He never had to. He knew what my parents were before they ever died, Timmy. Haley’s Circus came to Gotham regularly. Bruce always knew.”
The information blast hits him painfully, that Bruce didn’t bother to tell him and look at where they are now.
“And he didn’t try to help you?” Red, Tim, gapes at the still silhouette that used to be someone he thought he knew like he knew himself. Someone that’s always had this secret. “He didn’t try to –”
“Cure me?” Dick’s mouth lifts in a semblance of a smile Tim knows. “There is no cure for this, Timmy. It’s what I am. What my parents both were, the curse of the Romain Bababiljos. It’s unfortunate for me both of them were cursed, that just makes the...the hunger two-fold.”
And it’s just a few more steps, a raised hand that makes Tim flinch back, but only a fingertip taps the edge of the domino, makes the whiteouts raise.
Automatically, with everything he’s learned, studied, experienced about supernatural creatures, he ducks his head so he isn’t looking directly into those eyes. That doesn’t stop Dick from bracketing Tim in, both hands on the counter, their bodies a breath apart.
Dick laughs softly, close enough for Tim to feel the breath on his face. “The Titans...I never had to tell them. By then, I could control myself, at least mostly. The JLA? I’m one of the Batman’s proteges. I’ve been fighting crime since I was eight. They believe in me. There was never a reason for any of them to look too deeply past the surface.”
“Wh-what do you mean mostly?” Tim’s heart slams in his chest, “how many people have you killed, Dick?”
“Do you have any idea how awful the hunger is?” And the lower Dick’s voice goes, the harder Tim’s heart starts to pound. “Surviving on hugs and family affection is tantamount to starvation for someone like me. It’s so easy to kill someone during sex because the hunger is so much I can’t control it sometimes. Anyone I’m with is in danger. That’s why I couldn’t stay with Babs, she’s too human. The one time I came close–”
Dick breathes again and all Tim looks at is the span of throat, thinking of the soft, vulnerable parts, anything he can use to get the fuck away.
“–but I didn’t. I have...willpower sometimes. I drained her so close, though. She was-was so fragile, Timmy, and I was so hungry. I’d been starving for so damn long. She was hospitalized for longer than she’d been when the Joker shot her, and I said never again. But Wally and Kory were...different. I could go further with him without killing them, I could get more full than I’d been in a long time. It was still dangerous for them, but I was so far gone by the time...”
“They’re both still alive. Babs is still alive. Does she–?”
“Remember? Of course not. None of them do. I made sure of that, Tim, so none of them would be afraid of me.” And the air changes when Dick gets closer, his eyes get brighter, and Tim almost chokes with the almost touch to his body under his suit. “But, you are going to be different, aren’t you? I’m not going to be able to convince your mind that what you saw was a dream.”
“So what? You’re going to make me “disappear”? You’ll give Bruce some sob story about how I got tired of the vigilante life and left for college or some shit? Going to bury me where no one will ever find me?” He isn’t looking at Dick’s face, can’t see his own end coming, can’t believe he’d put all his faith and belief in this man only to have it all come to this.
Tim laughs wetly, blinking rapidly, and everything suddenly comes together. “He won’t ever come looking for me anyway. You made sure of that when you made Damian your Robin. Nice plan, Dick. No one is going to give a shit if I’m never seen again anyway.”
And it’s stupid not to at least try, not to duck and kick out, trip up whatever Dick really is, to break a window and fucking run, try to get Bruce, Clark, Kon and Bart and Cassie, to get anyone to listen to him about what Dick really is, to try to save himself.
(If you’d never figured out Dick was Robin, if you never put yourself in front of him, you’d be safe now. Miserable but safe.)
Even if it’s his own brain pan spitting this out, he knows it’s bullshit.
If he’d never approached Dick Grayson with proof Batman was losing his mind, Tim Drake wouldn’t have reached twenty-one. The way his life was going, he would have probably hung himself long before getting to this stage in his life. If he’d never had Bruce or Alfred or Dick or Steph, if he’d never had Robin, never had Young Justice or The Titans, if he’d never had the Clench, never felt the rumble under his feet as Gotham had fallen, if he’d never had the agony of losing everyone in his life, if he’d never had the drive to prove his adopted father was alive…
The civilian Tim Drake wouldn’t have had the strength to make it through life alive.
So if this is the way he goes out, if Dick is the one that ends it for him–
There’re worse ways to go.
He’s not going to be the Joker’s next victim or Ra’s al Ghul’s heir with a mix of Lazarus Pit crazy. The HIVE, the Light, the mass of aliens he’s fought, any number of Rogue Gallery thugs, none of them will be the ones to take him out.
But this?
His career as Robin started out with Dick Grayson, so maybe...maybe it’s fitting this is the way it all ends.
He sucks in a breath and finally tilts his head up, looks up into those electric blue eyes, and lets his breath out so so slow.
Because Dick is looking at him with watery eyes, with a grimace, with something Tim can actually recognize.
But those eyes light up in his penthouse perch, take on a supernatural glow, Dick snatching his wrists in bigger hands, pulling Tim closer, the heat getting through layers of Kevlar and Nomex. And just like that, he can’t pull away, can’t pull back.
There’s no way to defend himself when Dick pulls him in, when he expects to get his throat ripped out, his neck snapped, something important crushed, for the darkness to take over and his heart to slow down to a sad, weak pitter patter.
He can’t defend himself when Dick kisses him, opens his mouth, and stuns him into going completely slack.
“I told you,” Dick growls softly when he pulls back, bends enough to get Tim laid out over his shoulder, “I had other plans.”
But Tim can’t reply, can’t do anything other than lay across Dick’s back as the Romani love deamon strides down the hallway and kicks open the bedroom door.
**
And if Tim Drake survives until morning, shocking the hell out of the both of them, staring up at Dick’s surprised face and glowing blue eyes, if the soft touch to his jaw contrasts sharply with the bruises and red marks blossoming all over his body from an intense night with his supernatural mentor and best friend, if Dick doesn’t whisper, “finally, finally, my mate,” before kissing him.
If the power Dick drains from him doesn’t kill him, doesn’t do more than give him the most amazing span of unending multiple orgasms to ever happen, if Dick isn’t fully satisfied for the first time in his life. If Dick doesn’t call them both off patrol for the next three nights, carts Tim back to his apartment, refuses him clothes and computers and tech, tells the Titans they’re taking a break from crime fighting while Tim is tied and gagged in his bed, sated enough to listen hazily with half-mast eyes.
If Dick doesn’t hand feed him while he’s getting feeling back in his legs (finally) and give him the full run-down about his parents. If the strange mark on his abdomen doesn’t get warm whenever Dick’s hand is on it, fingers tracing the edges, making those blue, blue eyes dilate in possessiveness. If Tim doesn’t eventually escape with his sanity intact and a little terrified how much his body craves only to have Dick chase after him with single-minded purposes to convince him they’re meant to be.
Then only the man with cameras all over Gotham, waiting and watching with bated breath and fear for his Robins, unmitigated relief when his theory proves true, would be able to give all the details.
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Eulogia
With MELE imminent, sharing a scene I wrote a long time ago, in which Kaidan Alenko mourns Ashley Williams after Virmire, and discovers he isn’t mourning alone.
From here.
~
The cargo bay was quiet when the elevator doors opened. Most of the crew had dispersed to the Citadel, leaving Kaidan mercifully alone in the cavernous space. Slowly he made his way towards the lockers, the scar tissue and healing sinews in his abdomen like a knot that someone had doused with gasoline and set on fire.
But still healing.
(This is it. This is how I’m going to die.)
Kaidan exhaled.
If he closed his eyes he could still see the numbers in his HUD, always hovering right above zero, a perpetuating terminus never quite reached, never quite avoided.
When he reached the lockers he stopped, hand halfway to the one marked, Williams, A.
If he went by the book this should be Gladstone’s job. There was no reason it shouldn’t be Gladstone’s job.
(You know it’s the right choice.)
But it wasn’t Gladstone’s job.
The click of the locker door echoed loud enough that he flinched before drawing in a deep breath and pulling it all the way open. She hadn’t lied about her uniforms. Every shirt hung crisp and straight on its hanger, in sharp contrast to the chaotic pile of belongings tossed heedlessly on the ground below it. The pile was so impressive he was actually afraid to take anything out, for fear it would cause an outright avalanche. In spite of himself he shook his head and smiled a little.
“Somehow this is exactly what I expected from you,” he said under his breath. He heard a creak behind him and whipped his head around, heart rate thudding as though he expected to find her peering over his shoulder, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. A flush crept up the back of his neck.
Of course there was nothing. Ashley was dead.
His gripped the locker door until his knuckles whitened, leaned his forehead briefly against it. The metal felt cool and hard against his skin. He swallowed once. Twice.
Eventually he straightened with a sigh, tugging at his uniform and rolling his shoulder, as though he could somehow shake Ashley off like working out a crick in his neck. By the time his fingers brushed the cloth of her fatigues their subtle quiver had been swallowed up by the hard-earned discipline he’d practiced so diligently ever since Jump Zero.
(Kaidan Alenko. Always looking for the sure thing. Everything needs to be perfectly defined and spelled out for you, doesn’t it? Sometimes the unknown can be a little exciting, too.)
A static spark stung his finger as he emptied the hangers. He jerked his hand back, muttering, used to the burn, never the timing. Slowly he reached back in, painstakingly folding each shirt with precision he hadn’t employed since Basic.
(You find a wrinkle in my uniform and I’ll clean your pistol for a month.)
He made each crease razor sharp. Not a wrinkle to be found.
Once the clothing had been stored, he began taking apart the pile she had accumulated in her locker. Datapads with poetry. She liked Cummings and Yeats, Plath and Elizabeth Bishop. He remembered Joker saying something about Heinlein. Kaidan hadn’t intended to look through them, but shortly he found himself cross-legged on the floor, skimming through lines and verses. It was easy to tell her favorites – she’d annotated them heavily. Underlined phrases, personal reflections. In some cases she’d made notes that he didn’t understand, such as the one beside a line from a poem by Elizabeth Browning that simply read, Josh, and in parenthesis (the little shit).
She also had a copy of the Bible, which gave him pause. It wasn’t a datapad either but an actual book, pages dog-eared, corners bent and turned down, small makeshift bookmarks such as scraps of paper, paper clips, even a hair tie, sticking out at all angles. Like the datapads it was covered in notes, but all of these handwritten, in scripts of multiple hands. Some tiny and neat, others broad and flowing. Though he didn’t think he’d ever seen a sample of Ashley’s handwriting he immediately found one he thought had to be hers – small but hurried, with the occasional loopy flourish. It tended to start out neat, but quickly deteriorated when her hand couldn’t keep up with her thoughts, until it was nearly illegible.
The inside cover contained four handwritten paragraphs, each in a different script that he recognized from the subsequent pages. Each a note from parent to child, passing the heirloom on with messages of faith and love. Four generations of Williams, right there on one page.
Kaidan ran his fingers across the script, tracing the shallow grooves the pen made against the paper. General David Williams, of Shanxi infamy, bequeathing it to his son Matthew Williams, with a note.
Our faith is our legacy. We keep to it and carry on, no matter the cost. And when that task is difficult, remember those who’ve walked a harder road with lesser reward. We are blessed. I am blessed. Because I have you.
Serviceman Williams then wrote to his daughter, There’s a great wide universe out there waiting for you. I hope you explore it to the fullest. If you ever get lost, look here and see if you can’t find your way. Remember, kiddo. Ad aspera per astra.
Kaidan’s hands loosened, allowing the book’s spine to droop. A few pages whispered past his thumb. The hair tie bookmark fell out, ghosting to the floor without fanfare.
He snatched it up with a hot flash of guilt and held it aloft. What page did it come from? What place had he lost? How important had it been?
He didn’t know.
There was so much he didn’t know. So much he’d never learn.
He stared at the hair tie. Nothing more than a simple strip of dark blue elastic, still twined with a few strands of long, dark brown hair. She probably had a few dozen just like it. She’d worn two in her hair, at all times. One to pull it back into a ponytail, one to wrap around the thick twist of her bun and secure it in place. Usually she kept a third around her wrist, just for emergencies.
But they were never enough to hold back those few stubborn, errant strands that inevitably pulled free to waft about her face.
Moisture burned the corner of his eyes. His fingers curled around the small token, and he put his newly formed fist to his mouth to stifle the sound brewing in his throat. One choked sob got through before he swallowed the rest back, chest aching from the effort. He wicked a thumb across his eyes, hastily tucked the hair tie back between the pages and set the book aside.
This wasn’t his. The grief and memories trapped within the Bible’s covers were for her family, not for him.
But it shouldn’t be for anyone. It should be his things exposed to the harsh light of the cargo bay, meticulously sorted and stored, itemized on a manifest and marked for shipping back to Vancouver, care of Marc and Lora Alenko.
His throat tightened, hitching breath loud against the silent backdrop of the cargo bay. Not even the sound of the engines to provide some white noise.
Nothing like this would be found among his own belongings. He spoke to his folks a couple of times a year. Hadn’t been back to Vancouver in almost three. When he did it tended to be strained small talk and careful avoidance of anything to do with the mutated eezo nodes lurking under his skin. He’d actually thought running off to the Alliance might help. Follow in his father’s footstep. Give them something in common. That, of course, and he’d had nowhere else to go.
Would his own family have mourned him the way Ashley Williams’ would mourn her?
Would she?
Stop.
He raked a hand through his hair, fingers eventually coming to rest against his forehead. His head felt heavy. Too heavy to hold up, like a lead weight.
(They’re more important. We’re as good as dead up here anyway.)
He wondered who would inherit the Bible now that Ashley was gone. One of her sisters, maybe. Sisters who probably had yet to learn about what had happened down on Virmire.
(Kaidan, what the hell are you doing?)
(This bomb is going off! No matter what.)
No matter what. 0.00. He’d been ready for it. Ready for anything. Except Shepard’s hand, grabbing him by the arm.
Further down in the pile he found smaller items. Toiletries. A stuffed hanar, of all things. A bottle of liquor she must have picked up on Noveria.
(Just for the record, I’d look damn good in a dress.)
He swallowed against a lump in his throat, chest constricting. He could see her so clearly, standing at the railing in Port Hanshan, alternating between slouching and gripping the rail with her hands and leaning back on her heels.
(I’m not most people.)
No. She hadn’t been.
He found some packing material for the liquor. It was scotch, an asari brand, maybe purchased to share with Liara. Why it hadn’t been drunk he couldn’t say. Maybe she just ran out of time.
Next was a holo album containing a few photos. People he didn’t recognize. A woman that looked too much like her not to be her mother. A young girl with a grin he recognized from those brief moments in the comm room. Before…
Stop!
Kaidan put the holo aside, then rested his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands. Took a deep breath in. Let it out slow. Clamped his eyes shut. For a moment, everything shook. His hands. The air in his lungs. His skin felt hot, but prickled with gooseflesh.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Eventually he opened his eyes. Went back to the pile. Finish it, marine. Don’t leave her hanging.
In all her possessions were scant, just what she’d been able to obtain or accumulate since they’d picked her up on Eden Prime. In fact, how the Bible and holo album had even managed to catch up with her struck him as a bit of a mystery.
But when he got to the bottom of the pile his hand froze, mouth dry as a shock of white hot cold strummed the length of his spine, numbness dulling his fingers until they felt thick and clumsy.
It shouldn’t have surprised him. After all, she’d died in her combat gear. Not her fatigues. Of course they would be here.
This time no amount of discipline could overcome his shaking hands as he picked one up and turned it over in his palms.
A neon green boot with matching laces, so bright they nearly glowed in the dim light of the cargo bay.
His gut clenched, chest so tight he couldn’t breathe, the edges of his vision blurring until something hot and wet spilled over onto his cheeks.
(Come on.)
(Whoa, where are we going? Anderson said to wait here.)
(Come on, LT. Think we’ll ever get to poke around here again? Live a little.)
Only he hadn’t. She’d been right there. Right there. And he hadn’t.
(Tell me you haven’t thought about this.)
(Thinking’s not the same as doing. Maybe, once all this is behind us…)
He dropped the boot, back slamming against the lockers as he buried his head in his hands, the grief that he’d stored down deep in his chest ever since that timer reached zero breaching the damn in a flood of hot tears. He wept himself hollow, hot, swollen and aching, exhaustion creeping in until he felt it laying heavily over his skin, behind his eyes, in the pit of his stomach. Then he just sat silent, eyes red and heavy, arms resting on his knees.
A hulking shape appeared above him. Had he not felt so drained he might have cared more about discovering he hadn’t been alone after all. But when Wrex’s red, horny crest came into view he met the krogan’s fierce stare without shame. Whatever the krogan had to say, he was beyond giving a damn.
“She was a warrior worth mourning,” Wrex said.
Kaidan straightened his posture with mild surprise, but said nothing.
“Shepard chose his companions well. Even those I at first didn’t give him credit for.” He offered a scaly hand, which Kaidan accepted warily. Wrex hauled him effortlessly to his feet, and gave him a brusque nod.
“You are krantt.”
Kaidan wasn’t sure how to respond, but Wrex saved him the trouble by ambling away without further comment. The krogan had been nearly invisible since their return from Virmire. After finding him here Kaidan wasn’t even sure if he’d even left the ship.
He hadn’t considered the possibility that a krogan might mourn a human soldier. But Ashley…had that effect on people.
With a wipe of his eyes Kaidan began piling Ashley’s things into a crate. Once the locker was empty he sealed it, then closed the crate up as well and entered it into the ship’s inventory for the requisitions offer to offload and send to her family. By the time he finished, his grief had been replaced by grim, dogged resolve.
We’re coming for you, Saren. May God help you, you bastard.
#mass effect#kaidan alenko#ashley williams#ashley x kaidan#not quite willenko#but almost#my fic#me legendary countdown#i'm so used to writing in present tense#that reading my own stuff in past tense is WEIRD
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No excuse writing meme askbox version: What if for reflection :D. Thanks!
OKAY so...@springagainafter asked for a POV too and because i am just here for this sort of self-indulgent fan-fic apparently, today (and being enabled by certain enablers), here we have Reflection Aedan's pov of full stop's Kaidan's Horizon What if from the other day. (I'm cheating a little, there aren't a lot of what if's from Reflection that don't end with Aedan doing some unfortunate things and tbh, she’s already in a pretty dark place.)
perhaps perhaps perhaps (what if revisit)
Aedan's just about to gather herself and push him away when suddenly everything...shifts.
Her limbs fall out of her own control and she’s just got the view of his shoulders...shoulders that weren’t this broad the last time she’d been flung over them and tossed into the waves and...jesus fuck…what is he doing?
“Fucking...fuck Kaidan...Kaidan Elek Alenko you put me the fuck down…”
He laughs at her, the warm tone she remembers gone a little higher pitched with emotion and maybe a little outright hysteria. “You ought to harden this armor a little better against biotics, Commander.”
And she can’t help but laugh with him as he mounts the steps of a colonial hut. But god..he can’t he can’t...but she still doesn’t quite have the purchase to push away.
Did he always have this much control? The ozoney scent of biotics is so ...familiar, his arms are just as strong as...and as he drops into a chair...or a sofa, she realizes as the haze of corona bleeds off...that for the first time since she woke up…
She’s weightless. She's safe.
He stinks a little. The smell of fear and adrenaline and Collector guts drowning out the crisp aftershave that he probably didn’t use this morning anyway, considering how thick the stubble is against her cheek. She can’t make herself move. “Kaidan...what the fuck?”
The heartbeat under her is thundering. “I mean…I could ask you the same thing.”
Okay, that’s fair. “Yeah.”
He takes a breath before he asks, “How long have you…” trailing off like he doesn’t know exactly how to frame it.
“I woke up a month ago.” Has it been a month? Feels like years. Minutes.
His arms tighten around her and she feels the knots along her spine release, her own heartbeat in her ears is quiet as his steadies.
She almost expects it when he asks, “Does Anderson know?”
“I went straight to the Citadel. He can’t...He couldn’t even tell me where you were.”
She wonders if he’s going to ask but, he’s Kaidan, so no he goes straight to the meat of it. “Well, it’s Cerberus.”
And that’s it. The walls start closing in around her again. She needs to get away from him, before someone comes looking. The Collectors are...
God “The Collectors...the Council says it’s out of their jurisdiction and the Alliance...”
“I’ve been…” he cuts himself off and she feels it like a knife twisting. He’s right. He can’t tell her, if there are secret plans. But if there are...that’s good, right? Secret plans means the Alliance is cooking up something, even if she can’t be part of it. Secrets...she’s got to tell him about…
”There was a saboteur, that’s why the guns wouldn’t work.”
“Okay. How did you know about the colony?”
And here’s the thing she can’t tell anyone else, “I hope it’s because they were monitoring all the colonies but I think Cerberus planted the saboteur.”
Every muscle in his body stiffens and she finally has the strength to push up.
“Jesus. Aedan, how can you…”
“Tell me I have another choice.” He stares at her and she goes on, “Give me another option and I will fucking run to it. Cerberus has the resources I need. They built another Normandy, for Christ’s sake.”
He can’t. Instead, he trails his fingers along her jaw and she can’t help the flinch. “It’s me, I’m almost certain.”
Kaidan doesn’t say anything, instead, his hand cups her face and it’s all she can do not to collapse back against him.
His eyebrows raise. “Does that hurt?”
The way his eyes search her face, the concern lacing his question drags out the other thing she hasn’t told anyone. Not that anyone had asked. Except Jack, sort of. “Sometimes.”
Her communicator pings and she takes a breath before she can answer it and tell Joker to send the shuttle. Kaidan’s hands grip her and she can’t help it, she has to trace the lines of his forehead. Brush the silver hairs in his eyebrows. Solid proof of the years she’s...they’ve...lost. “I should...I have to go.”
“I want to come with you but…” Panic locks her lungs.
“No. No you can’t.” All the dangers, the reasons she was going to lie to him crowd back in on her. How is she going to cover for this? "Please…just that you’re okay."
“I’m really not.”
And suddenly all her fear, her worry feels small. He’s not okay?
Garrus shouts and Kaidan swallows whatever he’d been trying to say. This is all the time they have and it's never enough. Kaidan isn’t okay and she cannot stay and…
Aedan stops thinking for a minute and kisses him. Presses all the things she still doesn’t know how to just say into one heated stroke of tongues when his soft, warm lips part under hers, into the way her fingers tangle into the crisply clipped curls at the back of his neck. He pulls back and kisses her nose, her cheek. One of them is crying, she can taste salt.
God, I’ve missed you.
It’s all she can do to pull away from the safety of his arms and, this time, he lets her. She rambles as she backs away, warns him not to try and get in touch with her. She’ll...she can figure out something. A drop through Omega, maybe. And there’s the old cipher she and Anderson used to use. She backs through the door as she sends it to him.
She spins and hits the dirt running. He’s not okay. But she can keep him safe until she figures out how to make okay happen.
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Duplicity
An AU where Kaidan joins Cerberus for the events of ME2.
Chapter Nine: Of Explosions, Traps, and Thresher Maws
"Who did you blow to get access back?"
Mary looked up from the safety of the relatively stationary floor of the shuttle. This wasn't a day where the nausea meds worked to full effect, but she could suffer through a grin, "Illusive Man didn't appreciate Leng's interference with our mission."
"What a bosh'tet."
"You should still avoid him, if possible."
"Come on, Shep! Give me a reason to smear him against the cargo bay walls," Jack retorted with a smug grin.
Tali huffed, "I can take care of myself!"
Mary rubbed at her temples, focusing again on the grooves in the flooring, "we might be pushing it already."
"As I said," Jack sighed, "it's an empty facility. Since when did you give a fuck about what Cerberus thinks? Did you drink Cheerleader's kool-aid?"
"I jumped at the idea of blowing up this facility if my urgency was not noted," she retorted, "and only if it was cherry flavored. Unfortunately, it tastes like watered down orange."
"You're fucking weird."
"I'm sure someone likes orange flavoring."
"And they would be wrong, and besides, have you ever tasted orange?"
"That's beside the point, Shepard."
"Why is the bastard even here?" Jack interjected, becoming the voice of reason.
Mary puffed out her cheeks, "he was elusive about it. Leng mentioned something about a confidentiality breach. Tali, did you try and hack their systems?"
Tali shook her head, "if I did, they wouldn't have caught me."
Shepard grinned.
"Cerberus has the entire Normandy bugged, and not to mention that AI. I wouldn't do something like that without you knowing about it."
Mary nodded, "I thought so. If I wanted to get rid of those bugs, what would I need to do?"
Tali went silent.
"Way to ruin your plan," the biotic gently mocked.
"Who is Kai Leng to you?"
Jack leaned back in her seat with a growing scowl, "him and some Cerberus bitch tried to capture me. It didn't happen, but some mercs got me instead."
"That explains how you got to Purgatory," Mary murmured in response.
Jack shrugged, not interested in further explaining that particular defeat.
"Please be careful with him; even Miranda seemed spooked," she cautioned gently.
"Cerberus has really got you by the balls."
The blond flinched, "I'll have you know I ignored an urgent message from the Illusive Man to bring you here." It was a poor attempt at a deflection; everyone aboard the Normandy knew about her history with a certain crewmate. Worse was the presence of nearly every friend she had left in the galaxy. Most brought in by her. She had no doubts that the Collecter threat was overly sensationalized, but for the time being, it what her only option in stopping the threat. Anderson had seen the threat for himself, but whether or not he could help remained unknown partially because she was afraid of a formal admonishing.
"I forgot how much I hate this place."
~~~
"Shepard-- we caught a break."
Predictably, the break was a trap. Mary wasn't liking the new habit of trampling through her ship in armour fresh from a fight. Or how annoyingly composed the Illusive Man always was, even in her impromptu meeting, he was waiting with a cigarette and drink in hand. The bastard knew what he had done. Worse, he was ready for her to explode.
"In the meantime... I suggest you tell your crew I didn't risk their lives unnecessarily," whether or not the microscopic curl of his lip was imagined in the end, "it would make things easier going forward."
"I'll tell them the truth, screw this half-truth bullshit," Mary leaned back on her heel, folding her arms.
"Our reports missed the petulant child side of you," he took a long drag, flicking away the butt, "can't you see this was necessary."
"Not in the way you handled it."
His pupils narrowed as he stared at her, mouth kept in a thin line. Boldened by this slip, Mary pushed it, "you'll be lucky to have my crew after this."
"Who, exactly, is going to help you? The council already dismissed you once. The Alliance doesn't care about the humans in the Terminus Systems," his posture and blank expression returned, "unless you don't care about the abducted colonies and the Reaper threat anymore."
"Fuck you!"
He issued a long and drawn-out chuckle, "I expected better behavior from you, Shepard. Be an adult, and put aside your petty grievances. You need me to stop this threat."
The coldness pierced her heart first, spreading through her veins with incredible speed until it froze the tip of her fingers. The frigidity of her body forcing her face in a neutral expression, "Akuze was no petty grievance, you conniving prick."
She couldn't lose much more face, so stomping off without a pause was well within her wheelhouse.
"Mary?"
Kaidan knew that look, not that he had to be blocking her way to read it. The emotionless mask was there for only a select few emotions, and all urged him to reach out. Whatever it was, at least meant he wouldn't have to explain why he hovered around the briefing room. He stood his ground, allowing her the time to breathe before he attempted to pry it out of her. Eventually, her shoulders dropped for the briefest moment before squaring back up.
"Talk to me," Kaidan murmured gently, "what happened out there?"
Shepard's posture had corrected, but the mask had yet to fall. Moving him into unfamiliar territory, so he waited for her to speak. Timidly, slowly, placing his hand on her pauldron once the time elapsed into the space of no response.
"Shepard," he called.
First, her body lurched forward, he instinctively moved to pull her in, but the arm that reached around him corrected course and shoved him aside. Perhaps a little harshly, as his back met the metal wall of the hallway. Finally, the mask slipped, catching the moment her eyes filled with regret that morphed with the half-assed raising of her arms, "it was a trap."
Mary spun away to the right, sputtering another few choice words as Mordin collided with her across the opening doorway.
"Go get Grunt ready; we're headed to Tuchanka."
~~~
"You've had a lot more poker practice, Alenko," the turian mused in defeat.
"Back then, I was never invited," the biotic returned snidely.
"Only because Shepard took you everywhere," Tali added wistfully, "you were both so moony-eyed."
"Is that your excuse for always losing, Vakarian?" Kaidan grinned, fighting a bittersweet blush, "careful Tali, you'll start slipping."
"You were all formally crewmates?" Thane finally decided to speak from his corner of the mess hall table. His gaze lingered longer on the human. The other two were obviously connected to Shepard. His short time aboard the Normandy, he hardly saw the Commander and this man in the same room.
The human's next smile a little less forced, "yeah. With Joker at the helm. Those were crazy days."
"Much simpler times, just chasing a rogue spectre across the galaxy."
Tali hummed, "it felt more heroic back then."
"To hell with Cerberus," the man muttered.
Thane stood from his seat, this talk of the past making him feel further like a stranger in this group. Why Officer Alenko had invited him in the first place was a mystery, he hadn't attempted to speak with anyone. Not out of malice but out of desire. Shepard's words about him socializing with the crew to find meaning the sole reason he attempted this game.
The three looked up at him in unison.
"We can change the game."
"You can just stay and talk if you want."
"Look at you guys scaring away the new blood."
Thane glanced between the group; they were a good sort. He shrugged in an effort not to disappoint them, returning to his seat; he had little else of import to do.
"How about a game of go fish?"
The turian turned to the man, "isn't that a children's game?"
"I thought keeping your credits would be an enticing offer," Kaidan returned smugly.
"I already owe you a small fortune when you do decide to collect," the turian drawled, "might not be wise to encourage you to do so."
"I'm banking on interest too, Garrus."
"You would," Garrus chuckled, his eyes sweeping to the quarian, "but Tali, I've always wondered why your faceplate is tinted. Doesn't that distort your vision?"
"Garrus my e-"
Grunt barrelled by the table, taking the L2's attention with him. Adding biotics to the already large Krogan only increased his appetite, especially after a fight. The youngster looked pleased, settling down at the table with whatever was easiest to sweep into his arms—tearing into the still bagged loaf of bread sideways, the group watching with mixed reactions.
"Grunt," Tali was the first to scold, "you should be a little more careful."
"He's just a growing boy, Tali," Garrus replied.
The krogan looked up and around the table with a sheepish grin, "I am a boy no longer. I have passed the rite, and with my battle master, have defeated a thresher maw! You should be in awe!"
"That's no small feat-" Thane finding himself suddenly the chatty one.
"It was glorious! A worthy opponent. So big and in your face," Grunt continued to gloat through mouthfuls of bread and plastic.
"And Shepard?" the man dared to ask.
"The best battle master. Our enemies should be afraid!"
"Was she upset?" Tali pressed.
"No- she fought bravely."
Garrus was next to speak, "nothing odd?"
The krogan groaned, "she fought well. So well, she was too tired to speak."
Kaidan shuffled from his chair, hesitating as the turian and quarian took turns locking eyes with him, "am I supposed to sit here and do nothing?"
"I wouldn't test her patience."
Tali folded her arms, "what could you even do? Guilt trip her again?"
"Ouch," Kaidan flinched, running a hand through his hair, "I deserved that one."
Grunt looked around the table, cocking his head to the side. Thane went still, achieving a far better understanding of the situation than the confused krogan. Until Miranda, followed by Kai Leng burst from the second officer's office, both beelined for the elevator. Garrus, Tali, and Kaidan moved to intercept the pair.
"Out of our way," the Cerberus assassin seethed.
"Do you have a death wish?" Garrus tried to defuse him with humor and a well-intentioned claw on his shoulder. It did not work; the man's eyes only narrowed the anger held in his posture, doubling.
"Keep your dirty talons off of me, bird!"
Tali pulled Garrus back, allowing Kaidan to get in the way.
"That wasn't necessary," the biotic stated bluntly.
Leng rolled his eyes, "and neither is whatever fit Shepard is having in the elevator."
"So you're going to make it worse by demanding she stop?"
"Kaidan, we can't let her damage the ship," Miranda added gently.
"Yeah, I know," Kaidan sighed, rubbing at his temples, "but she won't. I don't think she will, anyway. It's her way of coping."
"By letting off biotic charges?"
"Yeah, I know, but has she damaged anything?"
EDI piqued up, "damage remains cosmetic."
Miranda placed her hands on her hips, "well, this is why we hired you, Alenko. Make her stop, or we'll be forced to act."
"Next time, a little warning after she's faced a Maw would help."
~~~
Riding through the elevator of the Normandy was an old pastime. Something about being crammed into a small space with blank walls let her think. About the good, about the bad, about anything that needed her consideration, really. She had spent hours in the old elevator; they moved much too quickly in the new ship. With more floors and staff came more distractions.
Usually, it involved much less biotic discharge, but this time that display kept the peace. The strain to keep it contained and from flaring too brightly occupied her mind pushed out the thing... the creature... that kept trying to wedge back in her mental space. Pulling it all back in, only characterized by a faint aura around her form, was another challenge. She kept her back to the person.
Ignoring it until the crinkling of a bag pulled her attention.
The opened bag revealing the light reddish-brown contents within, "I thought you might be hungry."
She looked Kaidan up and down, resting on his gentle gaze. Why was she so stubborn? Was he really so different? Did who he worked for matter? She couldn't pretend that all she saw of Cerberus was bad. She trusted Jacob- he had many of the same qualms she did about the organization but continued under their banner without compromising his morals. Her work was good fighting to protect the galaxy from the Reaper threat. Sure at the moment, it felt solely based on saving humans from the Collector threat, but they were only a tiny piece of the problem. She saw no shift in Kaidan, despite the things he had done after she passed. The same integrity, the same aggravating calm, the same compassion.
Perhaps she was unfair. What would she do to bring back the man she loved?
Huh, love was a funny feeling—a light but at the same time heavy notion.
Fuck this.
Fuck the forced distance.
If they were going to die, why waste what could be their last moments together?
"Kaidan."
Pushing the chips aside, she wriggled her way into his arms. A hand threaded through her still damp hair, his nose pressing into the top of her skull. The other arm supported the small of her back, cradling her in gently. Mary breathed in his familiar scent, no different than the man she knew two years ago. It was this easy. Some, but not all, of her worries faded into the background. She had missed physical comfort.
"Wrex was there," it was all she could offer.
Kaidan's chest rumbled, the patch pressed against her forehead an unwelcomed annoyance. A reminder. Hot and blinding, the logo was all she could focus on as it rubbed against her.
Maybe she was weak, but she could not separate the horror from the uniform.
He let her escape without a fuss, leaving him empty-handed.
#fshenko#mass effect fancition#cerberus au#female shepard x kaidan#kaidan alenko#duplicity#mass effect
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When Gotham Almost Won
Summary: You are Roman’s weakness.
Arthur’s Note: This is after Creative Fervor & Sugary Kisses and Broken Glasses, but is before Roman’s Luck is His Lady & Gotham Lockdown 2020
A glass went sailing past you. “Why don’t you fucking understand ?”
“No one fucking cares about me!” You hollered back.
He came around his desk. He grabbed you before you could draw a breath. His gloved hands wrapped around you, and he shook you. “Yes, they fucking do.”
You could not bite back, the sound the pain it pulled from you. He barely flinched. Roman was in the midst of one of his blind angry tirades. Sometimes, you couldn’t even get him out of them.
“Fucking listen.” He shook you again. “I am in a war to gain the upper hand for Gotham.” His breath was hot in your face, when he exhaled. “You are my only weakness.”
That echoed in your heart. The screaming hadn’t, him holding you as he was which would most likely leave bruises didn’t but those words did.
You wilted, you stopped fighting.
“If anyone fucking grabbed you it would be over.” He stopped, and finally noticed that you gave up. “Y/N?”
“Alright.” You finally said. Your voice was scratchy from screaming. “I believe you. I won’t let them get the upper hand.”
He sighed and smiled. “That’s my girl.” His hands released you. But he wrapped his arms around you. As he held you, you could feel how hard and fast his heart was beating. You weakly hugged him back.
******
You waited till you heard his breathing deepened and evened. Very carefully, you slipped out of the bed you shared with Roman.
Grabbing a small bag, you packed a silly tshirt he bought you at The Booby Trap. Across the front, in bright colors it exclaimed that you both survived, its famous roller coaster.
Next, with tears in your eyes, you grabbed Millie and Max the stuffed cows he had won for you. Those two days at the Booby Trap, it felt like you were just a normal couple in love. Not of one where you were dating the infamous Roman Sionis
It had just been you and him, no fancy suits, and no fake smiles. It was a special time for the two of you, away from all of it.
All the while in the back of his mind, you were his weakness. No wonder, he had laughed when you were scared in the haunted house. The real threat, you should have been scared of was the Joker or Scarecrow. Unlike the fake monsters in the haunted house, one of them could snatch you away and kill you.
You loved him enough to not be what could bring him down, after all he had worked for.
Quickly, you slipped warmer clothes over what you had worn to bed. With tears sliding down your cheeks you watched, as Roman grumbled something incoherently in his sleep before be grew silent once again and you zipped up your boots. Grabbing, your purse you then went over to his office.
Looking, through his stuff you found sheets of paper with his initials embossed in an elegant black script.
Roman
I love you.
But that is why I have left.
Your club, your life should not be brought down by me, your only weakness.
Don’t go looking for me.
Let me read in the papers how you made them pay and how you became the king of Gotham.
I love you, goodbye.
Y/N
Your hand shook writing this. It really hurt. You had not expected to love him ever this much. Damn, you never thought it would last more then a month. Eight months of being with Roman had been amazing.
His darkness and his surprising tenderness was all you had ever needed. He cared and loved you the way you wanted.
Grabbing another sheet of paper. You quickly scrawled the following.
Roman Sionis is becoming fucking unstoppable.
You all better watch out.
Sincerely the girl who once got to love him.
You put that note into his fax machine. You didn’t care if that would severe any future job prospects with any of them. You also made sure it was emailed to all the important people.
It would be for the best if they all knew you were over and who’s side you were on.
Instead of taking the elevator, you took the stairs. As the frigid air pulled hard on you. But you managed to hail a cab to your studio.
It was ice cold in your studio. You no longer kept anything important there, except supplies. You would have to make it your home again. Right now, this was seriously more painful then you ever imagined it would be.
Going, over to your sofa you practically collapsed onto it. You pulled down the knitted blanket. You got Millie the purple cow out of your bag.
Opening, the drawer of the end table by the sofa. You felt around. It was where you kept your melatonin, feeling the small jar you smiled.
Sometimes when you worked hard, your excitement over a new project it would steal sleep from you. So the melatonin helped! You took two tablets.
Now you wanted to sleep to forget. You wanted to not feel any pain. Maybe when you’d wake up, knowing you made the right decision, perhaps you then would not be in so much pain.
*******
Roman, rolled over and pulled you close; still half asleep. “I’m sorry I got so angry. Let’s stay in and forget the world baby.” He squeezed you. “Watch bad tv, maybe have a pizza made and not even chan...” His eyes snapped open. He pushed away the pillow, he had mistaken in his sleepy state as you.
Panic seized him, he took a breath. Maybe you were you up and working in your temporary studio or perhaps you were making breakfast.
Stretching, he ran his fingers through his hair. Wondering where you were he went in search of you.
You were nowhere. Hot anger and worry filled him. He had thought, you finally realized you couldn’t just run off. You needed Zsasz or someone with you. Or at the very least tell him.
Going, to his office he didn’t care how early it fucking was, he needed a drink. Never did he think, this would happen to him. He fucking, cared for you as much as he cared about himself. Well, if her were to be honest, he cared for you more.
He knew what he was capable of and he was fully aware what he’d do to maintain his control. You did not deserve to suffer anything because he was a cruel man.
He stopped, when he saw a bunch of faxes coming in fast. Some had had already fallen to the ground pushed aside from the faxes that came before it. The single sheet of paper in the middle of his desk made him curious. This was not how he had left his office.
A scream erupted from him before he even finished reading the fucking note. He crumpled it and ran back to the bedroom.
Once in the closet, he saw that you had taken Millie and Max, this was serious. He tore off his pajamas, and pulled on some clothes.
Opening, a drawer he took out his wallet, a set keys and one of his custom made hand guns, which he made sure was loaded. Eyeing the elevator, he decided to take the stairs. He took the stairs two at a time.
******
Leaving the parking garage, the sun momentarily blinded him. Blinking he watched the traffic and merging, he was off to get you back. He knew exactly where you’d go.
It did not take long for him to get over to where your studio was. He remembered that first time be went there with you.
There he had watched as you remained strong. You showed him the aftermath of what a former friend; a now serious competition had done. Your studio had been destroyed. You had not let it destroy you.
At that point, he had been incredibly sexually attracted to you. It was easy you were by far loviest girl he laid his eyes on.
Though watching you as you took in all the damage; especially to those prized scissors he thought you could be the one. Over the course of these eight months, you knew now that you were the one.
With every fiber of who he was, he wanted to protect you from all that he was. You were the reason why finally felt fear. He knew what he was capable of, so he was keenly aware what they could do to you. The idea caused bile rise in his mouth, he swallowed it down.
Cutting the engine, he got out of the car. He hoped that maybe you had left the door unlocked.
You had not. Good baby, he mused at least you had done that.
He remembered you had a spare key, luckily it was still there. He didn’t know what he was going to say when he saw you.
Once, inside he locked the door behind him. He walked over to your spiral staircase. He wrapped hands wrapping around the cool metal of the railing.
A soft sigh, came from behind him. He went over to the sofa, looking over he saw you there.
The blanket barely covered you, you held onto Millie and anguish was splashed across your face. Usually when you slept, he always had enjoyed seeing how peaceful you were. He hated seeing the pain.
He came around, and knelt beside the sofa. He watched you longer.
“Y/N,” He finally said your name. “Wake up we have to talk.”
You didn’t stir. “Y/N, baby wake up.”
You stirred.
“There you are.”
Blinking your eyes opened, as you saw him and turned away. “What are you doing here?” He heard you ask, despite being muffled by the sofa cushions.
Taking a breath, he reached and turned you to face him. You fought. “Listen, we have to talk.” He tried again.
Your eyes burned, when you finally relented and faced him. Your hair was a wild, he would have pulled you close for a kiss if it had been any other time.
“Y/N.” He still didn’t know what else to say, he honestly thought he had said it all yesterday.
“You made it clear, I am your weakness. So I left.” Your voice was clipped.
“You are.” He agreed. He saw the fire in your eyes flicker.
“So then let me go.” You swallowed.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because, because I could ruin everything.”
“How would you do that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Now look,” You had really ensnared him as he looked at you. He couldn’t imagine not having you at his side. “You are my weakness because I care about you. You don’t make me weak.”
Confusion crossed your face.
Finally, he was sure he understood. “Before you, there was nothing they could use to fight me. Blow up my club, my car? I can replace all of that.”
Swallowing, he had thought you knew that. He thought you knew how he felt. The words lingered on his tongue.
“Listen,” He inhaled then exhaled. “Fuck,” He barked. “If they did anything you, I wouldn’t want anyone else after you.”
“Roman!” You cried and launched yourself at him. Wrapping your arms around him, you held on tight. Your breath was warm as it tickled his throat as you exhaled. “Really?” You whispered.
“Yes, you silly girl. I want you by my side as I take over Gotham.” He chuckled and you held onto him tighter.
*****
Once outside, beside his car he pulled your woolen cap down further on your head. You smiled up at him as he did. “Let’s get you home where you belong.”
“I promise I won’t leave. And I’ll be careful when I do.”
“You better not.” Tilting your head up. He watched as the sun danced across your face. He pressed a kiss to your lips, as a gust of icy wind swirled around the two of you.
******
He had been eyeing that last piece of the pizza for awhile. You had not made a move for it and neither had he in case you also wanted it. From now on he’d have to tell the chef, equal pieces. This just wasn’t fair.
Leaning over holding your legs in his lap, he grabbed the remote. He paused the movie.
You looked over at him. “Should I grab us some ice cream?” Your eyes were playful.
He pointed. “But there is still a slice of pizza.”
“After that big bowl of popcorn and the pizza, I really have a hankering for ice cream.”
“You’ll get cold.” Whenever you ate it, you ended shivering even before you’d finish a bowl.
“You’ll just have to warm me up.”
Smirking, moving he easily came over to your side of the sofa. As he looked down at you, he brushed aside you hair that fell into your face. Damn, he loved looking at you. He pressed a kiss to your lips.
“What about the pizza?” You giggled, lightly.
“I think I found something tastier.”
He kissed you again this time as he did you easily deepened it. He smiled against your lips when he felt your fingers nestle in his hair.
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#roman sionis#roman sionis angst#roman sionis imagine#roman sionis fluff#ewan mcgregor#ewan mcgregor fanfiction#black mask angst#black mask imagine#black mask fluff#roman sionis x y/n#roman sionis x you#roman sionis x reader#bop#birds of prey fanfiction#When Gotham Almost Won#black mask x y/n#black mask x you#black mask x reader
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A/N: For the Personaloid zine! I wanted to use the Regret Message for Persona 2, I feel like it really suits the everyone as they go through the game.
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Kuzunoha Detective Agency was a small place at the best of times. With three detectives, three students, and two reporters? It was cramped. There was barely enough room to breathe, let alone think. The tiny space between the sofas, tables, and desks didn’t help the matter at all. The only way to move was to sidestep around others.
Fortunately, almost everyone was concentrated around Detective Kuzunoha’s desk, leaving most of the office empty. They poured over a map of the city as they tried to figure out the location of the next bomb. King Leo’s clues were riddles, vague lines that could mean almost anything anywhere. If he really wanted them to solve them, he certainly didn’t make it easy.
“This ward doesn’t have too many big, important locations,” Kyouji muttered, his finger sliding across the paper as he pointed at a few prime locations. A portly elder, he looked like he should be playing with his grandchildren, not fighting a secret organization. Lisa wondered if he really summoned demons. “Honestly, it’s probably between these five points.”
“I think we can rule out the school and the jail,” Yukino suggested, tugging on her grey hat as she stared at the map. Despite everything, she looked calm as she contemplated the threat. “The jail’s empty and the school’s already been attacked—I doubt they’d blow it up now. It’s a waste of resources.”
“The mall is a really big place…I guess we can check it out while you look at the other two?” Tamaki suggested, tapping her fingers on her thighs. She glanced at her boyfriend Tadashi, grimacing. “I suppose he could actually help this once. There’s no way he could mess this up.”
“Why are you still dating?” Yukino grumbled under her breath, shaking her head.
Lisa watched them impassively. She should be helping. While she might not know Hirasaka like the back of her hand, she’d spent enough time here after school to know the popular hangouts, to tell when something looked out of place. A bomb quietly ticked somewhere and any advice was better than none.
Her jaw clenched. She should be helping.
Instead, she couldn’t get off the couch, couldn’t do more than just watch and listen. In the corner, Tatsuya and Maya quietly talked, his hand stroking her back comfortingly as she trembled. After seeing King Leo, she’d been as pale as a ghost and even now the colour hadn’t yet returned to her cheeks. Lisa wasn’t sure what had happened while she’d been preparing for her idol performance, but ever since the labyrinth, they’d been getting closer.
She should interfere. Something fluttered in her chest, as delicate as a butterfly’s wings, a stirring of jealousy that she was all too familiar with. It was almost enough to make her stand, but her feet remained stubbornly glued to the floor and Lisa turned away.
It was hard to do anything when all she could remember was how Sheba and Mee-ho had changed in the end. They were like husks of themselves, all blank stares and flat voices. No matter what she’d said, they didn’t react, only mumbling about their dreams as though even that was too much effort. After that, people’s eyes slid right past them, like they weren’t there, like they didn’t exist.
Lisa dug her hands into her thighs. It was her fault. It was all her fault.
The soft thump of someone sitting on the other sofa cut through her thoughts and she jerked her head up to find a smirking Eikichi. He brushed back his bangs and winked. “Careful, stare too hard and you might burn a hole through me.”
Automatically, Lisa’s lips curled in disgust. “In your dreams.” It lacked her usual bite. A familiar anger and revulsion filled her yet, just like with everything it else, it felt muted. Getting angry at Eikichi was too much effort; it was better to just sit here and do nothing.
Maybe she could also fade away into nothing, just like Sheba and Mee-ho. It would be a fitting penance.
“I didn’t know you dreamed of me too, Ginko,” Eikichi replied, cupping his cheek as he sighed. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back dramatically on the couch like an angsty rock star. “I really am too damn attractive for my own good.”
Though, Eikichi was slowly piling up reasons to make the effort. Lisa couldn’t understand how anyone was so narcissistic, so incapable of reading the mood that he actually thought people were thinking of him with adoration instead of annoyance. Even when they’d gone through their schools, he’d kept thinking the girls stared at him in desire instead of just plain old fear. Averting her gaze, she muttered, “Don’t call me that.”
“Huh? What did you say, Ginko?” Eikichi cupped his ears and leaned closer. “I couldn’t hear you.”
Lisa twitched. It was impossible tot tell if he was serious or just taunting her. Either way, she was done with this conversation. “Just shut up. Go bother someone else, I’m not in the mood.”
Eikichi stared at her. For a long moment, she wondered if he’d finally gotten a clue. His electric blue eyes bore into hers before he glanced at the others. When it was obvious they weren’t paying attention, he clasped his hands and leaned forward. Looking the most serious she’d ever seen him, he quietly asked, “You okay?”
That wasn’t the response she’d expected. Confused, she sat back, sinking further into the plush couch. “Huh?”
Still all too somber, Eikichi clarified, “With your friends…”
Immediately, Lisa stiffened. “Don’t.”
“Sorry,” he muttered, looking away.
It was stupid. So utterly stupid. Lisa blinked back her tears—out of everyone here, why was stupid Eikichi the first one to ask how she felt? After they’d left the smouldering concert ruins, no one had so much as looked at her as they tried to figure out the riddle.
It made sense. It really did.
Yet, she’d needed this question more than she’d realized. Wiping her tears with her sleeve, she pressed her arm against her eyes. “Why you?” she croaked.
“Me?” Eikichi repeated.
She didn’t want to look at him, see the pity in his eyes. “Tatsuya just looks at Maya and Yukino doesn’t care and…why are you the only one who asked?”
“They…” Eikichi trailed off, unable to come up with an excuse. It wasn’t like he could anyways; she had eyes and ears.
Lisa laughed bitterly. “I know it’s more important to deal with the bomb. Really. But…” She hunched over, curling into herself. “It hurts. Sheba…Mee-ho…it’s all my fault.”
There was a long silence. Lisa rubbed her eyes. Now that she’d talked about it, it was like a floodgate had opened and all she could remember were the months she’d spent lying to her friends. She’d kept pushing them away, even wanted the school to burn, all because she didn’t want to tell the truth.
If she’d been honest from the start, they might have still been here.
Eikichi finally replied. “Yeah.”
She should have expected that response. It was par the course with Eikichi; all of their fights had been sharp, pointed things. Somehow it still stung. Crossing her arms, she sniped back, “Of course you agree with that.”
“Hogo, Ken, Takeshi—it’s my fault they ended up like that too.” Eikichi smiled, pained. “They were only trying to help me and I let them down. We both messed up.”
Lisa flinched. She’d almost forgotten about his friends. They were shadows now, barely visible, barely existing, and with a rush of clarity she remembered how it happened. Playing with the hem of her skirt, she mumbled, “No, that…that was my fault too.”
All this time she’d been calling Eikichi self-centered when it was just her all along.
God, she sucked.
“It’s not,” he disagreed.
“It is!” She bit her cheek and forced the words out. If she went far back enough, actually, this was all her fault. “If I hadn’t goaded them, or even suggested the Joker game—”
“I’m their boss,” Eikichi interrupted. “I should have taken their place. I’m the one who forced them to do it. If I hadn’t been so focused on my rival, if I hadn’t been using my powers like I did…maybe it would have been different.”
“That…” Lisa trailed off, unable to refute it. If he had stepped in, maybe they could have caught the Joker right then and there. Or if the kidnapping hadn’t happened—if none of those things happened, would their principal have still attacked the school? Eikichi’s student president take over his school? Or would those things have still happened, but Lisa would have just been part of the crowd, unable to save herself. “Maybe.”
“We’re both shitty friends, huh?” Eikichi smiled lopsidedly.
Her own was just as crooked when she chuckled. “Yeah, I guess we actually do have something in common.” She lowered her eyes. “Do you think…that we can save them?”
“Of course.” Eikichi snorted, dismissing the whole thing without a second thought.
Lisa wished she had that sort of confidence. She glanced at Tatsuya, at Yukki and Maya, at the detectives hard at work. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to hope a little. They were all smart, amazing people. They’d gotten this far, after all.
Maybe they could go all the way, defeat Joker, and save everyone.
“If you’re scared, Ginko, I’ll save your friends for you,” Eikichi offered, winking.
“Gross. I don’t need your help.” Again her words lacked their usual bite, but only because she felt more fond than annoyed this time. Getting up, she wiped her hands on her skirt. “And you’re wrong, I’llsave your friends for you.”
Before he could reply, she skipped off to Tatsuya. After all, she also had to protect him from Maya.
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Chapter 12- The Dark King
Word Count: 10, 700
Ao3
TW: Mentions of rape, abuse, violence
A/N: Thank you guys for your kind comments and support so far! I really love the enthusiasm and your responses!
I also wanted to share these amazing fanart!!
by @nessieusagi
by @milas-imaginarium
I think they’re so lovely and it makes me so happy seeing all of this!
Masterlist
Ko-Fi
The first thing you felt when you woke up the next morning was the burning soreness between your thighs.
You winced when you reached down to touch your tender folds. Your labia minora was slightly swollen, and you felt something sticky. You withdrew your hand to see dark red oxidized blood.
You got up from bed, flinching as you walked to your bathroom to wash up. After a quick shower, you head out but paused when you caught your own reflection in the mirror. There were bruises on your waist and your hips, a double crescent shaped marking around your left nipple- you hadn’t even realise he bit you there in the heat. Your eyes then darted towards your neck, taking in the dark spots that had formed on the surface of your skin.
“Fucking hell,” you muttered.
You were a fucking mess. Anyone who saw you would immediately know what you were up to the night before. Even washed and clean, you could make out your slightly swollen lips.
You reached for your makeup bag and started covering up the visible remains of the assault you welcomed- before pausing in realisation.
Mother was quiet. She hadn’t made a single comment about how dirty you were.
And you didn’t feel dirty either.
You saw your own lips quirk up in a smirk as you craned your head to expose your neck even more to dab on concealer. You had just finished getting dressed when you heard a knock on your door.
“ Hey, you up?” you heard Dick’s muffled voice from outside.
You didn’t bother to reply, but went to open the door for him.
You stared at him, as he stared at you.
“You look like shit,” you snickered, then stepped aside to allow him inside.
His eyes were red and puffy, with dark circles underneath them. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days and the fact that his complexion was gray and pale added on to the “looks like death” look.
“I feel like shit,” he groaned. You sat on the chair near your desk as he helped himself to your bed.
“Are you okay?” he frowned in concern.
“I’m fine. Why?”
“You’re walking funny,” he narrowed his eyes at you.
Shit.
You had tried to walk as normally as you could, but you were naive to think that you could have fooled Dick.
“Oh!” you feigned realisation, “My foot hurts a bit. I think I twisted it yesterday when I ran up the stairs.”
Fuck.
Another blunder.
It wasn’t a half truth, it was a straight up lie, and you knew how good Dick was at detecting lies. Judging from the tightening of his lips and the scrutinizing pause, he saw straight through you. You remained silent for a few moments. Then-
“So, Bruce told you, right?” Dick changed the subject, “How did you take it?”
You relaxed.
“I didn’t know him,” you reminded, “So it was more like a surprise to me, you know? I didn’t think it was possible. Then everything just made sense. Like, mind blowingly. The shit he said to me, the familiarity with the gadgets and my uniform, the kidnapping.”
“It killed him, you know?” Dick brought up, “Bruce, I mean. When he saw those bruises Red Hood- no, Jason- left on you. He probably didn’t show much, but Alfred called and told me how badly he took it.”
Suddenly, you were hyper aware of the hickies you currently had hidden on your neck, as if they were burning into your skin.
“Well, that was Todd’s plan, I suppose,” you shrugged. It still felt weird to talk about him in the context of the present.
“It worked,” Dick nodded, “Bruce was messed up. You’re his daughter after all.”
You didn’t know how to respond to his sad smile, so you changed the subject.
“So did you yell at him?” you smirked, “For keeping it a secret for so long?”
“Yell at him? I punched him,” he revealed.
“In the face?” you gasped.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he muttered, looking away.
“How long will you be staying?” you asked.
“I’m taking a week off work. If nothing by then, I’ll go back, but will continue to drop by as much as I can.”
“Anything last night?” you questioned.
“No,” he sighed, “We tried to look for people to interrogate, but it wasn’t our luck. We’ll try again. We’ve been checking out Bruce’s safehouses as well since he never removed Jason’s security clearance so he could be using one of them. So far nothing, though.”
You felt like a dark mass inside of you was eating you up, drowning you in guilt and shame.
While they were out desperately looking for Jason the night before, you knew exactly where he was and who he was doing.
“You’ll find him eventually,” you offered, “And when this stupid suspension is over, I’ll be there to help as well.”
“Yeah,” he hummed, “Jason… I want to help him. Save him. He’s angry, and you know what? I get it. I get why he’s pissed.”
So Dick got it?
He got that it was your fucking fault? That you were Jason’s replacement?
He got why Jason fucking hated you?
Dick must have noticed the change in your expression, because he quickly added, “I meant Bruce. How Bruce let Joker go.”
“Yeah, I got that,” you recovered, “It’s fine.”
“Sure, Bruce beat Joker up and all that, but I felt that Jason was always the type to think that the ends justify the means. He valued the intentions more than the action itself-”
“I said it’s fine, Dick,” you cut him off.
“And of course it does not in any way justify what he did to you-”
“Dick,” you grit, “It’s fine.”
He looked at you warily.
Or was it pity?
You didn’t need or want his fucking pity.
“Anyway,” he got up, “Breakfast?”
“Sure,” you followed suit, willing yourself to not grimace at the shooting pain between your thighs that you had forgotten about.
The two of you made your way downstairs to have breakfast in the dining room, table already set by Alfred.
“Bruce?” you asked Dick, wondering where your father was.
“He’s been in the cave the whole night,” Dick frowned as he took a seat across from you, “Hadn’t slept a wink.”
“I see,” you acknowledged, while you piled your plate with bacon and eggs.
“So,” Dick started with his mouth full, “Where did you go last night?”
“Did Alfred tell you I went out?” you narrowed your eyes.
“Mhmm.”
You immediately started to get more cautious.
“I went to see someone,” you casually told him, trying your best to lower your heartbeat.
“Oh, was it that guy you were seeing?”
“Yup.”
“You never told me his name.”
You swallowed.
“Carter.”
“Carter?” he snickered.
“What’s wrong with Carter?” you feigned a defensive stance.
“Nothing wrong,” he tried to stifle his laughter, “So is Carter the reason why you’re walking funny?”
You did not expect that.
You were going to gasp in shock, but you had food in your mouth, so you ended up choking on it and going into a coughing fit.
“Dick!” you hacked violently, eyes streaming with tears.
“What?” he guffawed, “Oh, God. Are you okay?”
“Why would you say that?” you reached for the glass of juice.
“I need to know whether I gotta have a stern talking with some guy,” he laughed, “It was an honest question! Come on, I’m your brother.”
“Even more reason not to discuss these things!” you grimaced.
“Hey, if you’re old enough to do it, you’re old enough to talk about it,” he said smugly.
“It’s none of your business,” you protested, blushing furiously.
But the universe was a bitch.
Against all your luck, your phone that you had set on the table dinged.
You looked at Dick, and he looked at you, mischief glinting in his eyes.
You had been Robin for a long time, and while your reflexes were good, it still wasn’t as good as Dick’s.
Before you could reach for your phone, Dick had lunged for it, snatching it away mere moments before you could react.
“Dick, give it back!” you panicked, jumping across the table to catch swipe it back, causing a commotion.
He stood up tall, keeping the phone out of your reach.
“Oooh, Sexy Hunk From Library, huh?” he read out the notification on your lock screen. You put in a mental reminder to change your settings later.
“Thought of my proposal?” he read out loud, skipping away from you.
Fuck.
If Jason sent anything else, he’d expose himself.
“Proposal?” Dick continued, “What proposal? Did he ask you to marry him?”
You could tackle him. You couldn’t beat Dick but you could perhaps make him drop your phone.
“Or,” he gasped, “Is he into BDSM? Fifty Shades of Grey stuff? He’s getting you to sign a contract, isn’t-”
“How about instead of distracting yourself and using humor as a coping mechanism for your obvious grief and anger, you come to the terms and accept the fact that it was your fucking little brother who kidnapped and sexually assaulted me?” you spat with venom.
You saw the moment Dick registered your words, the way his smile fell, his teasing eyes darkened, his jaw clench and his back stiffened.
Dick had never looked at you the way he did then, and suddenly you felt small in his presence, the way Batman had always made you shrink away from his excessive aura of authority that he projected while he scrutinized you.
You felt like a dark veil covered the sun, and wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole as he looked at you with dark eyes.
“Dick-”
“You’re right,” he grit, “Thanks for the slap in the face.”
“I’m sorry-” you tried.
“Clean up the mess you made,” he cut you off before leaving you alone with spilled juice and bacon bits on the floor.
You were never the clingy type.
You never really missed anyone because you never had anyone to miss. The maids and nannies in your childhood home rotated frequently so that you couldn’t get attached to them. Looking back, you were sure your parents did it on purpose.
It was only when you started giving full trust to your new family that you knew how it felt to miss someone.
And it had always been Dick, since you had gotten close to him and he wasn’t around much. You always had a good relationship with him, and he never once got angry at you or looked at you the way he did.
And now, it was Dick you had hurt.
But frankly, you didn’t care.
Because he deserved it.
***
It wasn’t like Jason was hoping for you to agree, but it was part of his plan so he couldn’t help but hope.
At least, that’s what he was telling himself.
He was sitting at his dining table- the fact that he owned a dining table sort of made him pleased with himself- cleaning his guns.
It took you almost an hour before you finally replied his text.
When Jason heard the ding, he looked to his screen to read the notification.
I’m still thinking.
He frowned, then put his gun down. He wiped his hand stained with grease and gunpowder residue on his bare chest, leaving a trail of gray on the surface of his skin before picking up his phone to reply.
Think faster. he simply sent.
He saw that you immediately started typing back.
These things take planning, Jason. I need to make sure no one can identify me if I were to go out with you. It’s not the matter of whether or not I can decide, it’s the matter of whether or not I’m capable of eluding Batman once he sees a surveillance footage of me with you.
Jason smirked. Evidently, you were agitated.
He liked that.
He liked agitating you.
You’re a smart girl. You can figure it out. he replied and went back to cleaning his weapons when you didn’t text him back.
Two hours later, his phone dinged again.
Fine. Where do we meet?
Jason smiled widely at his success.
Meet me at 7th Dillon Avenue, Coventry. I’ll be in the alley between the old tailor shop and a thrift store. 11pm sharp.
Noted.
Oh, and babygirl? he sent again.
What?
Put on that lip gloss you always wear. he replied with a kissing emoji he knew would get under your skin.
***
I don’t exist for him.
I don’t care what he thinks.
I don’t want to please him.
You repeated to yourself again and again as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, the tube of clear lipgloss you always wore held tight in your shaking fist.
After knowing he wanted you to wear it, you were suddenly torn between putting it on or not. You didn’t think something as stupid and simple as that could drive you up the wall.
You were frowning at yourself, at how idiotic you were being.
You were already ready, wearing a tight black suit made from Kevlar thread underneath black armor, your hair out of your face, and steel toed combat boots on complete with black leather gloves you usually wore during winter. The only weapons you were bringing were a pair of escrima sticks strapped to your back, your grappling gun strapped to your upper thigh, and a small knife strapped below it. Your belt only had smoke bombs. You were ready to leave, except for the lipgloss.
You groaned, and smacked it on anyway, hating yourself silently for listening to him.
You left your phone in your room, because you knew that Bruce could track your movements with it and deactivating your GPS and whatever bug he used would be more suspicious.
You managed to sneak past Alfred and head to the garage, thankful that both Bruce and Dick were already out, and chose the most normal looking motorcycle available and slapping black duct tape on the number plate to cover it up.
You thought about how your core would just sting while riding a motorcycle. The pain between your legs had lessened, but it was still sore enough to make your movements odd and stiff.
You left the manor with your heart beat racing, thinking of how you were betraying the man who took you in and loved you.
The man whom you called your father.
The streets in Coventry were dark and empty at that time. The only shops that were open were a couple of empty dodgy bars and convenience stores. You and Batman sometimes would patrol the area because it was such a perfect place for crime to happen. For some reason, it was so empty that even criminals hardly ever targeted anyone in the area save a few residents.
You hurriedly zoomed into the alley that Jason had told you. Both the tailor shop and thrift store were closed. You immediately saw him leaning against a black, sleek classic car, helmet resting on the hood. It was your first time seeing him as Red Hood after discovering his identity.
And the image ignited a fire in your belly.
You parked next to him and switched your engine off, taking off your own black motorcycle helmet.
You walked towards him and stopped a few feet away, arms crossed.
He looked at you, up and down. Then-
“Very homemade. I like it. Black suits you better,” he drawled. “You’re packing light tonight.”
“I had to be careful,” you reminded him, “I couldn’t take much weapons. He would have noticed.”
“I didn’t know you used those,” he nodded at the escrima sticks on your back.
“Dick taught me how to use them,” you explained, “My fighting style is too rigid- Bruce would recognize it if he saw me fight next to you. I’m not as familiar with the escrima sticks, so I haven’t developed a style yet. It could throw him off- hopefully.”
“Hmm,” he hummed, and started walking towards you. You refused to budge. He came close to you and grabbed you by the hips, pulling you close against his chest.
Your breath hitched, but you willed yourself to not show any sort of reaction.
“And this?” he breathed, hands snaking up your waist, rubbing the material up and down, “Kevlar armor?”
“Zylon,” you mumbled, ignoring the growing heat between your legs, “It’s six times stronger than Kevlar.”
“And he wouldn’t notice this go missing?”
“It’s stored away,” you huffed, “It’s more like a bulletproof vest rather than a suit. He wouldn’t miss it. Not the way he would miss the tech he used on the Robin suit.”
“Impressive,” he whispered, his warm breath fanning your face. He started caressing your cheek gently. It could have been a romantic gesture, but for some reason you thought that it was more threatening. “You’re even wearing contacts to change the color of your eyes. See? I knew you were smart”
“That’s a given,” you scoffed, looking sideways. Anywhere to avoid his eyes, though he was wearing a red domino mask with white lens. “Why do you even wear a mask if you already have a helmet?”
“Why did you wear your lipgloss when you had no obligation to listen to me?” he smirked, his thumb pressed on your shiny lips.
You slapped his hand away and looked at him in defiance as you put on a black bandana over your nose and mouth, tying it behind your head to give you a sense of protected identity.
He chuckled, and let you go.
“This is our rendezvous point. If anything happens, we meet back here. Now hop in,” he walked towards his car.
“Why can’t I take my own vehicle?” you demanded.
“Because I want you next to me,” he grinned, and put on his helmet. The minute it rested on his head, you saw it activate, the white glowing eyes switched on and you heard the very soft sound of his electronic breaths.
You frowned.
It was state of the art tech. You knew it must have had additional features like night vision and zoom lenses, not unlike the one you owned. You wondered where or how he had procured it.
“If that’s your only reason, then I’m taking my bike,” you defied.
He was already going to enter the driver’s seat when he stopped midway. He turned to look at you, and for some reason, it made you shudder.
In a flash, he was already behind you, taking your arms to incapacitate you and slammed your front onto the hood of his car.
He was unbelievably fast- you couldn’t believe that they were human reflexes. It must have been a result of the Lazarus Pit that Bruce briefed you on.
He bent over you, a hand in your hair forcing your head down against the warm car.
“Don’t get too cocky, baby girl,” he cautioned, “I still don’t trust you enough.”
You had to admit that the vulnerable position you were in sort of made your pussy clench.
“Fine,” you conceded, “I’ll go with you.”
You felt the pressure disappear and heard the car door slam. You grumbled and rubbed your cheek, before following suit.
Just because you knew it was Jason, you had let your guard down. You forgot how unstable he actually was. You made a mental reminder to be more cautious of his mood bursts.
You slammed the door shut. The interior of the car looked just as sleek as the exterior, with black leather seats- the passenger and driver’s seat were joined together- and an old school cassette player with nothing playing. The car was spacious and looked like a collector’s car. Again, you were left to wonder where he got it.
“Where are we going?” you asked, looking out the window, trying to avoid how sexy his arms looked when he gripped the steering wheel.
How could arms even be sexy?
“We’re heading to iClub,” he stated.
“On Verne Avenue? The one owned by the Ibenescus’?” you frowned, “They still a problem for you?”
“Big operation. Proud family,” he huffed, “International business. Yes, they’re a problem. They’ve been trying to hide it from me, but my men say they’re still active.”
“So what are you going to do about it?”
You felt uneasy.
“Just have a little talk with Victor,” he shrugged, “He’s in charge of the operations now after the Patru Fatri, and the cousins. He’s more distant from the main family, but an Ibenescu nonetheless.”
“Well, I hope the club doesn’t check IDs,” you mumbled jokingly to yourself.
To your surprise, you heard Jason bark out a loud laugh. It was an odd sound coming from the voice scrambler inside his helmet.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he rested a hand on your lap, which you felt almost burn, “You look way over 21.”
***
What Gotham lacked in security, it made up with entertainment.
Theatrics.
Its affinity for producing and attracting bizarre individuals always made for good dinner discussion. You just never thought you would be on the side of the crazies.
Jason had parked a couple of blocks away from the club. You recognized the area, as it was just a lane away from The Black Bass Bar, where Jason had decapitated the cousins and put their heads on spikes.
The two of you walked towards the club.
“Listen here,” he started, “This isn’t your area of expertise. You do exactly what I tell you to do. You don’t open your mouth unless I say so. I’ve worked hard to earn fear from these people and I’m not going to let you fuck that up for me. Understood?”
“Whatever,” you huffed.
You noticed how the bouncers started getting nervous when they saw the two of you approaching. They had started to sweat and fidget, trying excessively hard to focus on filtering the going ins and outs of guests.
“Red Hood, sir,” one of them nodded and let the two of you inside. The moment you stepped in, you felt like you were immediately deafened by the loud techno music that was playing, and blinded by the flashing bright lights.
You noticed how many of the customers recognized Red Hood, and flinched away from him, avoiding eye contact. Their gaze would linger longer on you, curiosity in their eyes.
The both of you squeezed past the sweaty dancers on the floor, and towards the VIP area on the other side of the club.
Seated on the long suede purple sofas were three men, each with at least two women on their arms. The moment they saw you approaching, they immediately went rigid.
Red Hood simply strutted to the area and you followed behind him.
“Ah, Red Hood,” the man with straw hair that was slicked back and navy blue shirt that he had left unbuttoned, revealing his hairy chest, greeted. “Take a seat, take a seat! I see you have a guest with you, as well.”
“Victor,” Red Hood nodded, sitting on the chair. He crossed his legs and spread his arms across the back of the sofa, lounging comfortably. He looked over to you and nodded to his side, silently telling you to sit.
You obeyed, though less relaxed than Red Hood. It was slightly quieter at the VIP lounge, but you still had to strain your ears to hear them speak.
“Can I get you a drink, my friend?” Victor offered, “Maybe something for the lady?”
“You want anything, princess?” Red Hood turned to you.
“No, thank you,” you grit.
You hated that he was calling you pet names while in the presence of a crime lord. It was humiliating, and made you feel like you were just an accessory to him, not unlike those hardly dressed girls that were on Victor’s side.
You noticed one of them.
He had his arm wrapped around her waist, but she looked extremely uncomfortable. She was blonde, wearing a black dress with a plunging neckline, and didn’t look that much older than you. Even with the layers of badly applied makeup, you could tell she had eyebags and dark circles, perhaps maybe even bruises on her face.
“Angelica,” Victor called a girl from the other end of the sofa, “Come here give my friend some company.”
The girl called Angelica had tanned skin and exotic features, and was a brunette with curls that hung to her hips and was wearing a body hugging deep purple glittery tube dress. She came to sit on Red Hood’s other side, snuggling up close to him and started rubbing her hand on his thigh, and whispered something that you couldn’t hear.
And he just let her.
You clenched your jaw.
No, you couldn’t be jealous. It didn’t make sense for you to be. Yet, the sudden tightness of your chest said otherwise.
You saw Red Hood angled his face slightly towards you, probably to see your reaction.
You couldn’t see it, but you somehow knew he was smirking.
“So what brings you here?” Victor asked, trying to hide his nervousness.
It was the first time you met with an Ibenescu face to face. You thought that they would have a thick accent, but Victor sounded just as American as you and Red Hood.
“I was just wondering how things were going on your end,” Red Hood shrugged.
“Things are going excellent,” he replied, “As you can see, the club is doing great. People are enjoying themselves.”
“And the drugs?” Red Hood brought up.
“Ah, straight to business, like always,” Victor chuckled, “We’ve sold almost all our stock this month. You can come by and get your share of profits any time.”
“Who are your clients?”
“Local distributors, as well as some international ones,” he explained, “With explicit instruction to avoid dealing with the underaged, of course.”
“And how can you be so sure they’re listening?” Red Hood demanded.
“You know us, Red Hood,” he boasted, “The Ibenescu Family is one of the most powerful families in Gotham. Our name is very well known in the underground. We have people everywhere. Our operations span from the Americas, to Europe, to South East Asia.”
“And which operation did you come from, sweetheart?” he addressed the girl next to him.
She looked at him with shock, gaping like a fish out of water.
“Angelica here is from the Philippines,” Victor answered for her, his voice grittier than normal, “She migrated to find work. I provided for her. Isn’t that right, Angel?”
“Y-yes, sir,” she stuttered, “Mister Victor has been very good to me. He gave me a job when others wouldn’t. I am forever grateful for him.”
You frowned at the way she recited those words, almost like she memorized it from a playcard.
“The American dream, as the say,” Victor continued, “My family are very familiar with it. We are immigrants that came a long time ago, and America provided for us. I wanted to do the same for others.”
“Did you now?” Red Hood hummed.
“Of course,” he nodded aggressively, “But enough about me. Who is this ravishing lady you have here? I have not seen you before, my dear.”
You looked at Red Hood, who nodded subtly once.
“I’m V,” you made up on the spot.
“V?” Victor repeated.
“For Vendetta,” you finished.
You heard Red Hood chuckle next to you.
Victor raised an eyebrow, “Well, my dear, you must be special to my good friend Red Hood, here. I didn’t think he was capable of laughter. Where did he hide you all this while?”
“Ah, you see, Victor,” Red Hood cut in, “I did not hide her, because she isn’t mine to hide. V here is her own person, who happened to become partners with me for tonight. People only hide property, and women aren’t property, am I right?”
There was an unmistakable threat in his voice.
“Of course not,” Victor agreed, “I respect women.”
Suddenly, there was a tension in the air as the two men looked at each other.
Then, Victor started laughing.
“You’re too tense, Red Hood,” he boomed, “And you should trust your associates more. Especially the ones who sacrificed their entire industry for you.”
“Sacrifice, huh?” he said softly. Then, Red Hood turned his body towards you, scooting closer to your side. He let his hand rest on your thigh.
“You got my back, baby girl?” he whispered into your ear.
“Yes, but I’m not killing anyone,” you whispered back, “And you shouldn’t either.”
He ignored you and went back to Victor.
“Victor,” Red Hood said, “I’m feeling a little… Restless tonight. I want one of your girls.”
You clenched your jaw.
“Oh?” Victor widen his eyes, “Finally taking up my offer! Of course, of course! Pick anyone of my lovely ladies.”
“I want that one,” Red Hood pointed to the blonde Victor was obviously possessive over.
“Elena?” Victor started laughing awkwardly, “I’m afraid she’s not available, Red Hood. But you’re welcome to choose anyone else. Angel here is very popular.”
“No,” Red Hood insisted, “I want your Elena.”
“That’s not possible,” Victor denied, annoyance on his face, “Elena is only for me.”
“Well, since you respect women so much, let’s hear it from her, huh?” Red Hood teased, “Elena, sweetheart, would you keep me company tonight?”
Elena’s eyes were wide and terrified. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. You felt bad for her and wondered why Red Hood was putting her in such a difficult situation.
“I-I-I’m v-very sorry,” she squeaked. You could hear her thick Romanian accent. “I o-only serve Mister Ibenescu.”
“What, this clown?” Red Hood scoffed, earning a glare from Victor, “Unlike him, I’m sure I can give you a pretty good time.”
“S-sorry,” she stuttered, “T-that is not possible.”
Red Hood kept silent.
“There you go, the woman herself said it,” Victor commented, “And you’d want to respect a woman’s wishes right, Red Hood?”
“How old are you?” Red Hood asked softly, ignoring Victor.
“T-twenty-four,” she replied.
“You don’t look twenty-four,” he hummed, “How long have you been working with Victor?”
“Two years,” she automatically responded.
“I see,” he nodded.
You could tell she was lying, about both her age and how long she worked. And you knew Jason caught on as well.
Jason leaned back, taking out his gun from his thigh holster and casually dumped it on the low rise table, clinking against the glass bottles and shot glasses.
Ibenescu tensed up, and then there were about fifteen men who pointed their guns at the two you. You were about halfway standing up, reaching for your escrima sticks when Red Hood caught you by the shoulder to stop you.
You frowned at him, then sat back down.
You noticed that the music had suddenly stopped, and everyone in the club was silently looking, worry in their eyes and preparation to take off if anything were to get out of hand. You guessed that these sort of things happened frequently, and the club probably had a system for when it did.
“Relax, will you?” he growled at everyone, “Was just getting a little uncomfortable there, Jesus Christ.”
Victor nodded at his men, and they set their guns down. The music continued to play and the customers continued to dance as if nothing had happened.
You now knew what he was doing.
From the very beginning, he already planned out what he was going to say and what he was going to do in order to prepare for an inevitable fight. Based on observation, he knew that Elena was Victor’s favourite and that he would not let anyone touch her, so he provoked him by asking for her.
Asking Elena her age and how long she worked was also a calculated and pivotal move. Since both you and Red Hood could tell when someone was lying, the fact that she was indeed hiding what seemed to be minor information told volumes that she wasn’t supposed to be by Victor’s side, meaning that she wasn’t there by choice, and you could assume that she was trafficked.
From there, he confirmed his sources that Victor had not ended his human and sex trafficking trade, and had reasonable reason to attack.
And by putting the gun on the table, however he relaxed he seemed, was a massive power move. He showed that he wasn’t afraid of being unarmed- though, you knew he was probably packing more than one gun. Tactical wise, when Ibenescu’s men showed themselves, they also showed their numbers to you. You now knew where they were, what weapons they used, and how many of them you needed to take down.
You smirked to yourself underneath your improvised mask. You knew already how smart and strategic he was based on how he conquered the underground in only just a few months, but seeing him act in the flesh, you truly appreciated his brain.
“It almost seems like you’re scared of me, Victor,” he drawled, “Are you?”
“You did kill members of my family,” he mumbled.
“It was their fault now, wasn’t it?” Red Hood shrugged, “I told them to stop. They wouldn’t. Now, if you’re not as stupid as they were, Vic, you wouldn’t have to be scared, am I right?”
Red Hood leaned forward towards Victor, resting his elbows on his knees and tilting his head sideways.
“With all due respect, Red Hood, they were not stupid,” Victor argued, “They were simply protecting the pride of our name.”
“And how about you? You’re not protecting your family’s pride?”
“I prioritize my life over pride,” Ibenescu admitted, “And I respect you as Gotham’s Dark King.”
Dark King? What the fuck?
“Dark King,” Red Hood repeated, laughing lightly, “Got a nice ring to it, don’t you think, princess?”
He elbowed your side playfully.
“A bit cheesy for my taste,” you grit.
“Aw, the missus doesn’t like it. To be fair, I think it’s cheesy too,” he stated, “But you know what I don’t like even more, Victor?”
Victor frowned at him in question.
“I said,” Red Hood snarled, “You know what I don’t like even more, Victor?”
“W-what, Red Hood?” Victor sputtered.
“People who lie to me,” he growled.
In a blink of an eye, with the speed you had witnessed earlier and many times before, he had managed to stand up, reach for the gun on the table, jumped across and stepped on Victor’s chest who was leaning in panic against the sofa, and cocked the gun towards his head.
All before you could even register his initial movement.
The fifteen men aimed their semi-automatics at Red Hood, prepared to gun him down.
The music had stopped, and from your peripheral vision, you saw the crowd were ushered to the exit in chaos.
“If your men don’t put down their weapons, I’ll shoot,” Red Hood looked down at Victor.
“What is the point, Red Hood?” Victor defied, “You would kill me anyways. I might as well try to take you down with me.”
Red Hood paused for a moment. Then-
“Baby girl?”
You nodded. “Got it.”
The first person you attacked was the one pointing his gun to your back.
The sticks felt unfamiliar, yet refreshing.
You managed to knock him out before he could shoot at you, but by that time others were already pulling their triggers. You locked your next target.
You ran at him and slid on the floor, taking his knees out and simultaneously pushing him into the next person whom you used your stick to hit directly at the centre of his head.
But you could sense a gun being aimed at you, and you dived behind the sofa to use as a shield. You heard glass shattering around you, and on the floor you found someone’s dropped mobile phone. You reached for it, and with aggressive force, sent it spinning through the air and hit the culprit in the eye, blinding him.
You came out of hiding and lunged your sticks at his throat.
You spun around to grab the neck of a semi-automatic and directed it upwards, causing bullets to spray across the club.
Your ears heard nothing but ringing for the next minute.
You pounded onto the guard’s chest using your sticks, and ended the attack with a blow to his temples.
You had counted five, so you reacted quickly to lock on your next target, but when you came out of your adrenaline induced tunnel vision, you noticed everyone else were already lying on the floor.
During the time you knocked out five men, Red Hood had already killed ten.
And now, he was left with a sobbing, begging Victor Ibenescu who was on his knees on the glass covered floor.
“What should I do with you, Vic?” Red Hood drawled, “I’ve already gutted your cousins, put some of them on display. And it was a pretty display, wasn’t it?”
You approached them.
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a whimpering Elena who was in a fetal position against a toppled over sofa, terror in her eyes.
“P-please,” Victor stuttered, “I promise I’ll shut down the operation, for real this time!”
“I don’t give second chances, Vic,” he told him, “Now I’m just thinking about whether I have the time to skin you alive before the cops show up.”
“Red Hood,” you called out, “You don’t need to. The cops are already on the way- hell, Batman is probably a couple of minutes out. We should leave.”
“And leave him here unpunished?” he jabbed the gun into Vic’s head, causing him to recoil from the heat of the muzzle. “I don’t think so.”
“Red-”
“Elena!” Red Hood barked, “Come here. Now.”
You saw Elena struggle to get onto her feet and limped her way to you.
“What do you think, sweetheart?” Red Hood asked, “Should we leave him for the cops to find and deal with, or…”
He looked over to her and gently took her hand, handing her his own gun.
“Do you want to kill him?”
You gaped at Red Hood, just how Elena was.
“M-m-me?” she managed.
“Yes, you,” he confirmed.
“You can’t possibly make her-” you started.
“Don’t you think she’s the one who should decide what happens to him?” he cut you off.
Elena still looked shocked, and held the gun as if it was going to hurt her.
“Hey,” you approached her slowly, “You don’t have to. Once the police come, they’ll take him away and put him behind bars for the rest of his life. You don’t have to be scared anymore. They’ll help protect you.”
The poor girl was shaking so bad, you were worried she might set off the gun accidentally.
“No,” she whispered.
“Elena-” you tried.
“No!” she shrieked at you, causing you to stumble slightly back in surprise, “You- you don’t know. He do things to me! Again and again! He took me. I thirteen! Now I eighteen! No!”
You were utterly speechless. How could you reply to that?
She held the gun properly now, with two hands.
“He made me kill baby. Two times!” she sobbed.
Your heart broke.
She shuffled closer to him.
“Elena, my dear,” Victor started frantically begging, “You’ve always been my favourite. I’ve always treated you well, haven’t I?”
“No!”
BANG!
You heard Victor let out an inhuman screech.
Elena had shot him between the legs. Next to you, you heard Red Hood chuckle.
She pulled the trigger one last time, and crumpled onto the floor at the same time Victor did.
You wanted to approach her, comfort her, anything.
But Red Hood beat you to it.
“Listen to me,” he growled to get her attention since she was sobbing hysterically, “Are you listening?!”
She nodded.
“When the police come, you tell them that I made you shoot, alright? You tell them that I said I would rape you then gut you alive if you didn’t shoot him. You understand me?” he shook her.
“Y-yes,” she hiccuped.
“Repeat it. Tell me what you are going to tell them.”
“R-red Hood say he rape me and kill me if I no shoot,” she bawled.
“Good,” he nodded, “You did good, Elena.”
He then turned to you. “Let’s go.”
The two of you quickly rushed to the exit. You were just about to leave the club when-
“W-wait!” Elena called out, “Red Hood!”
He looked at her.
“T-thank you.”
He left without saying a word.
***
You were being really quiet in the car.
Jason thought that you were still shaken over what had happened.
Sure, maybe you saved people from being mugged or raped, and perhaps even some trafficked girls in the past.
But he was sure that those girls didn’t have the option Jason graciously gave Elena.
Jason thought that you were probably thinking about what those girls you saved in the past would have done if they were granted the same choice.
He sped up, hands gripped tight around the steering wheel. His body was still buzzing from leftover adrenaline, and he was itching for something.
An illegal car race. A good old fashioned hand-to-hand combat with somebody who could keep up with him. Hell, even a nice and long jerk off session.
He was bothered by the silence, despite being alone the whole time before this.
He put in a cassette and AC/DC started blasting through the speakers. He saw you jump at the sudden noise.
Somehow the ride back to the rendezvous point seemed longer than expected.
“Why do you still have a cassette player, and cassettes?” you spoke for the first time since the club.
“I’m old school that way,” he jested.
You ignored him and continued looking out the window.
That annoyed him.
Fuck, why was he so fidgety? Why did he want your fucking attention so much?
He felt like that kid in kindergarten who pulled on the pigtails of the girl he liked.
Finally, the both of you were back in the alleyway.
He turned off both the music and the engine, and took off his helmet. He combed through his hair with his hands and tossed the helmet in the backseat. He saw that you had taken your mask off as well, but hadn’t made a move to leave.
So he just sat there with you in silence, unsure of what to do or say- like a fucking idiot.
Fuck.
You were driving him crazy.
Thankfully, you broke the silence.
“What did your sources say about the Ibenescus’ still trafficking girls?” you wondered.
“There was a recent shipment of girls from Philippines, Thailand, Russia, and India,” he explained, “Only the Ibenescus’ would still have the guts to carry out the operation. Like Victor- may he rest in peace- had said, the Ibenescus’ are powerful. They have an international business they just can’t afford to sacrifice.”
“But since Victor is dead, someone else would just take his place,” you frowned in the dark, your outline illuminated only by the single dim street light from outside.
“And I’ll keep on killing every single one of them,” he grit.
“But like you said, it’s an international operation,” you argued, “Even if it was just the States, you can’t possibly stop every single operation under the Ibenescus out there.”
“Just like however much you and Batman patrol at night, you can’t stop every single crime, right?” he sneered.
You remained silent.
“It’s the same fucking thing,” Jason insisted, “Except that Elena got her justice. True and proper justice. Or are you telling me she made the wrong call? That she shouldn’t have shot his balls off and killed him after he raped her for years and made her abort her baby twice?”
“There must be some other way,” you muttered.
Jason was annoyed at how stubborn you were, but frankly he understood.
Because that’s what Batman did. He brainwashes you into thinking that his way was the only way.
“What if I told you that one fifth of the trafficked girls were aged below twelve?” he said softly, “What if I told you that the Ibenescus’ have been providing the elite pedophile rings with children? Would you want there to be some other way?”
You looked at him, shocked.
“Elite pedophile ring?” you gaped.
“Batman didn’t tell me either when I was Robin,” he grumbled, “It’s either he didn’t know about it, or he kept it a secret from us. And knowing him, I doubt it’s the former. Weren’t there days where he insisted on being alone?”
You frowned, taking in everything Jason had said. He was proud of himself. Just after a few hours with him, he could already see your resolve faltering.
“As long as I can clear Gotham of sex trafficking, as long as there are less girls like Elena here, and as long as there are no more children involved, I’m satisfied,” he continued, “That’s what I do. I give out justice and fix things. I know most victims like her don’t get the opportunity to get closure the way she did, so I’ll be the one to make that decision and carry it out for them.”
“Oh, so you’re supposedly Gotham’s savior, then? A fucking Angel of Death or something?” you answered sarcastically.
“Didn’t you hear Vic?” he chuckled, “I’m the fucking Dark King.”
You scoffed, and crossed your arms, still looking outside.
“You were pretty good with the sticks,” Jason commented, changing the subject. “Though definitely not as good as Dick.”
Fuck, why was he still talking to you?
“I don’t usually use them,” you shot him a glare that Jason thought was more cute than threatening, “I usually use Krav Maga.”
“Yes, I’m familiar with your subpar fighting skills,” he smirked.
“That’s not fair,” you huffed, “The Pit gave you peak human abilities. You can’t compare yourself to me.”
Of course Bruce knew it was the Pit that revived Jason.
“Baby girl, I was much better than you when I was Robin,” he poked.
Why was he teasing you like this? Flirting with you like he was normal?
Joking with you as if he wasn’t planning to hurt you?
“I doubt it,” you pouted.
Even in the dim light, Jason could still make out the shiny traces of lipgloss that were still left on your lips.
Before he could stop himself, he reached out a hand to your chin, and pressed his thumb against your lips, sticky from the lipgloss.
He saw the way your breath hitched in surprise, the way your eyes darted from his eyes to his lips, the way you gulped.
“Why do you like my lipgloss so much?” you spoke, lips brushing against his thumb.
Fuck.
“Because, baby girl,” he drawled and scooted closer to you, “Ever since day one, I kept on imagining your shiny, wet lips around my cock.”
A small gasp escaped your mouth.
Which made his cock start to fill up.
“Want to make my fantasies a reality, princess?” he smirked.
“Why would I?” you whispered, “I don’t owe you anything.”
“It’s not about owing me,” he came closer, now rubbing his thumb all over your lips, smudging your lipgloss, and picking up some of your spit. “It’s about helping each other out.”
He gripped your waist with his other hand, rubbing up and down through your armor.
“Didn’t you like last night?” he purred, gripping your thigh. He noticed how you easily spread them wider apart.
“Didn’t you come all over my cock?” he forced his thumb inside your mouth, hooking it at your lower teeth and forced your face closer to his.
“Didn’t you wear your lipgloss anyway just to get my attention?” he smirked.
He had expected you to pull away, or even bite his fucking finger, but to his surprise, your lips closed in on his thumb.
And you started sucking.
All while looking up at him with your innocent, puppy dog eyes.
And for some reason, even though it was just his one fucking thumb, he felt like he was being consumed by the warmth and the wetness and the fucking softness of your mouth.
Jason was in trouble now.
Because you had started swirling your tongue around his finger as you sucked.
Jason couldn’t hold back his groan.
And from the delight he saw you in your eyes, he already knew what type you were.
You were the type to get turned on by his pleasure, his approval, his praises.
Typical Robin complex.
“Baby girl,” he breathed, “I’m not going to come unless you do the exact same thing but with my cock instead.”
He smirked when you gave him an irritated look, but then-
“Ow! Fuck!” he snatched his hand away.
You fucking bit his finger.
Again.
And this time you were looking at him with complete smugness.
“Oh, you’re in trouble now, princess,” he growled. Then, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and tugged you to him roughly, forcing his tongue in your mouth as he kissed you violently and grabbed your tits which were still covered by all your-
“Fuck, why do you wear so much fucking armor,” he gasped.
“Because I’d like to actually live in case I get shot,” you shot back at him.
Jason glared at you. He usually loved your attitude, but somehow he felt really irritated by you that night. You weren’t as snarky and confident the night before. Obviously you were less nervous, and less afraid of him.
He needed to change that.
In a flash, he pushed you hard against the locked door of his car, earning a shocked gasp from you. He crawled over to you , engulfing your body with his own.
It was hard to move in the car, but the compact setting made Jason feel like he was trapping you in a cage.
He put his hand around your neck and squeezed lightly while he attacked your mouth with his own again. This time, his kisses were less pretty.
He bit and nipped at your lips, your tongue, forcing both of your teeth to click together.
He could hear you panting hard, and moaning into his mouth, sometimes letting out soft whimpers.
“You trying to sass me, baby?” he breathed over your face, lips brushing against yours. He increased the force of his throttle.
“You forget who’s in charge here?” he whispered, appreciating the way your mouth just fucking fell open.
“Who’s in charge, princess?” he growled.
He saw your eyes roll upwards, your lids fluttering close, and felt your thighs squeeze together.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Were you getting fucking turned on by his choking?
“Y-you,” you said in stuttered breaths.
“That’s right, baby,” he let go of your neck, causing you to gasp for air.
Then, Jason leaned back against the door on his side, and parted his legs.
He was glad the Impala’s seats were joined, without any annoying bumps that parted the passenger and driver’s seat. It allowed more room to move around.
Once he saw you catch your breath, he patted to the spot between his legs.
“My cock ain’t gonna suck itself,” he smirked.
He could see the fire in your eyes as you came over to him, bent on all fours. You laid on the seat on your belly, your mouth close to his cock that was borderline becoming extremely painful.
He had to wear protective cups while he worked, which meant that getting an erection was excruciating.
He tilted his head in curiosity when he saw you stare at his thigh holsters, biting your lower lip.
“You see something you like?” he teased.
Your gaze snapped back at him, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. You ignored his question and started working on his belt buckle.
Once they were off, you impatiently pulled his pants down, but was puzzled when you saw his jockstraps.
He almost laughed when he saw the confusion etched on your features.
“They’re just like normal briefs, baby, but with extra protection,” he winked, cupped his junk, and gave it a little shake to make a point.
“I- I knew that,” you fumbled, and went to hook your fingers in the elastic waistband. You brought them down with some difficulty, as they were tight.
But Jason enjoyed seeing you struggle, so he let you figure it out.
And boy, the look on your face when you finally took his cock out.
He hissed at the relief when his cock slapped back onto his lower abdomen when it was free, but your expression made him chuckle.
“Did- did I really have that inside me last night?” your voice went up an octave.
“Inside you, and outside, and inside, and outside,” he gave you a shit eating grin.
“Very funny,” you glared, but gulped again at the sight of his erection, “Jeez. No wonder I couldn’t walk properly all day.”
“And I assure you, every single time I fuck you, you wouldn’t be able to- ah, fuck!” he got cut off by the pleasure that suddenly shot up his spine when you gripped his shaft hard.
He looked at you and saw you gave the same cheeky grin back.
Fucking hell.
You bent down, and gave a small experimental lick at the tip of his cock. He could see the way your eyebrows knitted together, how your eyes were so full of fucking contemplation. Like you were thinking of a strategy to make him come undone.
You started lapping your tongue a few more times over the head of his penis before taking the tip into your mouth and started sucking softly.
Jason groaned, and then reached his hand to tangle into your hair. Not to control your movements, not to show you how it’s done, but just because he needed to grip something.
From the tip, he saw you let your saliva drool down his shaft, making it glisten. Then, you sunk down and took more of him in. You got too ambitious, because you went down too fast and then he felt you gag around his dick.
“Fuck,” he grunted as he felt your fucking throat try to push him out, “Take it slow, baby. We have all night.”
You released him from your mouth and gasped for air, a string of saliva connecting his tip to your mouth, tears streaming down your face, eyes and nose red.
Shit.
It was a fucking sight, alright.
“I-I’m sorry,” you sputtered, “I wasn’t sure- I don’t- it’s my first time.”
And holy hell, did Jason’s heart flutter at your innocent apology.
“It’s okay,” he wiped the tears from your cheeks like he was your lover, like he fucking cared. “It feels great when you gag on my cock, but you don’t have to take it all in at once. Here.”
He pushed your head back down to take him in rough, but not too rough.
Jason needed to be a little forceful, a little violent with you. He needed to hide the fact that you sucking on his cock for the first time didn’t flick a switch of emotion within him.
“You take in as much as you can,” he panted, “And your hand can do the rest.”
He wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft.
“So when you go up,” he pulled your hair to guide you up his length, slick with your spit and his precum.
“Your hand follows your mouth,” he gripped your hand and moved it upwards as well, following the motion. “And don’t forget to suck.”
He saw that you got the hang of it pretty fast, and soon, Jason was groaning and moaning, and tugging at your hair.
He fought hard to not cant his hips upwards and start fucking your mouth. He fought hard to be considerate, to not hurt you, to not give you too much of what you could handle.
He didn’t want a repeat of the night before.
Yet, the fire in his belly and the dark voices inside his head told him to grip your head with both his hands and fucking use your mouth like a toy.
But, no. Jason was in control. And he didn’t want that. Not tonight.
He saw that you were watching him as you bobbed your head in motion, and he knew you were enjoying the sight of him. He felt vulnerable to you, open and exposed.
He hated that feeling. The shame of being laid out like that when someone was watching him-it made him feel small and guilty.
But the shame and humiliation and guilt was what made the whole thing more enjoyable.
Soon enough, he felt the familiar feeling of his gut tightening, his toes curling in his steel boots.
“Stop,” he rasped, pulling you away.
You looked at him with worry in your eyes that made Jason almost come anyway.
“I- I was close,” he explained.
“Isn’t that the point?” you smirked.
“Wanna fuck you first,” he murmured.
Then, you started blushing.
“Uhm, it still hurts a lot from yesterday,” you answered sheepishly, biting your lip awkwardly.
It reminded Jason of how you were with him the first time he met you at the library, how you were shy and a blushing mess, when you didn’t know his identity. It seemed so long ago, and for the first time, he wished things could go back to being that way.
“Fine,” he gruffed, “Come back down here, then.”
When you started sucking on him again, he added, “Didn’t know you were so weak. Thought you’d be used to getting thrown around by now.”
It really wasn’t fair for him to say that, and he knew it was hurtful.
But he wasn’t the good guy in this story.
You shot him a glare, and then popped his dick out.
“Jason, my mouth was around your cock when you said that, and if I were to accidentally bite you, well,” you retorted.
“You wouldn’t do that, baby,” he chuckled.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because, princess,” he drawled, and forced you to continue sucking, “My cock- ungh- is your favourite part of me, isn’t it?”
And as if you conceded, admitting he was right, you started to suddenly increase the pace. Filthy wet sounds filled the car as Jason heard the sound of rain in the background, and noticed that the inside of his windows had started to fog up.
Your warm, wet mouth consumed him whole, and he felt his balls tighten and tighten.
“Baby,” he gasped, “I’m gonna- I’m gonna-”
Despite his warnings, you still went on, as if you were determined to finish your job.
He groaned loud and long as he spilled his cum inside your mouth.
He felt you fucking drink it up.
Fuck.
When he was done blowing his load, you were giving him soft, gentle licks on his now sensitive cock.
And you then you sat up and smiled proudly.
“You waiting for me to give you a candy, or some shit?” he snickered, “Or a gold star?”
“Maybe you should,” you huffed and crossed your arms, sitting back properly in the passenger seat.
Jason put his pants back on, and sat up as well.
But then he noticed you squirming slightly, your respiratory rate fast, small pants escaping you. You were clenching your thighs together.
He smirked.
He reached out and caressed your cheek with one finger.
“Want me to help you out?” he offered.
“I’m fine,” you said, “I’ll deal with it later. I should go back soon. What time is it?”
“Almost two,” he glanced at the dashboard clock.
“Batman and Nightwing are probably just leaving the club by now,” you said out loud, “I’m sure they’ll keep on patrolling, though. Unless they got a clue.”
“Clue?”
“Yeah,” you hummed absentmindedly, looking outside at the rain.
You remained silent for a while.
Jason hated the silence.
Then-
“It’s your face, by the way,” you started.
“What?”
“Your face. My favourite part of you,” you avoided Jason’s eyes.
Jason was taken aback at your confession.
Why would his face be your favourite part? He had scars all over, eyebags and bloodshot eyes, and he was pretty sure his nose was more crooked than average.
“You’re good looking,” you said as if you were mad.
“Well, you’re not too bad yourself,” Jason blurted before he could stop himself.
You blinked at him in surprise.
Fuck.
He fucked up.
He wanted to punch himself.
What were the two of you doing? It wasn’t like it was a fucking date. It wasn’t like he cared about you that way. It wasn’t like he wanted you all to himself, and never let go.
Fuck.
He was done being the charming, kind, gentleman Jason Haywood.
So why was he still acting like he was?
***
“Where were you?” Dick demanded when you opened the door.
He was still in his Nightwing uniform, sans the mask.
“What?”
“Alfred said you weren’t around, and you left your phone at home,” he persisted, “Where did you go?”
“I got some junk,” you pointed to the big bag of junk food on your bed.
“Alfred said he noticed you weren’t around at midnight, and you only just got back an hour ago. It took you almost three hours just to get junk?” he narrowed his eyes at you.
“Fine,” you conceded, “I went to see Carter.”
“Why did you leave your phone?”
“I forgot, okay?” you exasperatedly flailed your hands. “I’m grounded from patrol, not from going out. What’s the big deal?”
Dick frowned at you.
Your heart was beating so hard you were afraid he could hear it.
“Where did you meet him?” he continued to interrogate.
There were no more room for half truths.
“Robinson Park,” you answered, “We spent some time in his car. Lost track of time. And- you know what? I don’t even need to tell you all of this! It’s none of your business, Dick.”
“There was someone new with Jason tonight,” he stated.
Fuck.
“Someone new?” you repeated, tilting your head in feigned curiosity.
“A girl,” he continued, “She’s skilled.”
You frowned. “Who is she?”
“Eye witness said she calls herself V,” he told you, “She uses escrima sticks and a form of arnis and silat hybrid.”
“Hmm,” you pondered, “And? Is she someone you and Jason knew?”
“We’ve been wondering about that,” he muttered.
Your eyes widen.
“You think that was me?!” you shrieked.
“You tell me!” Dick retorted.
“Why, Dick?” you shouted, “Why?”
“You were out for god knows how long and suddenly Jason has a girl with your knowledge of martial arts at his side?” he snarled, “What else am I supposed to think?”
“One, fucking anyone could learn martials arts!” you argued, “Two, I was out with Carter yesterday as well! There wasn’t anyone with Red Hood yesterday!”
“Red Hood wasn’t seen yesterday,” he debated, “And you haven’t even shown me a picture of this Carter you’re seeing. What’s his last name? Where is he from? You need to tell me. You need to tell me the truth.”
“I am,” you grit, “You need to figure out your bullshit, Dick!”
“What?”
“I get it, okay,” you sighed, and sat down on your bed, “Jason, your brother, he betrayed your trust. He’s angry at Bruce, but why didn’t he come to you?”
Dick simply looked at you.
“You trusted Jason when he was Robin, as family,” you explained, “The way you trusted me. And now that trust is destroyed, you’re questioning me as well.”
You looked at him with a sad smile.
“I’m not like Jason, Dick,” you tried to convince him, “I’m me. I’m your sister. I have no reason to hurt you or Bruce. I love you both. Okay?”
Dick stared at you, and you saw tears pooling his eyes.
That made your heart sink to your stomach.
“I’m sorry,” he blinked away the tears, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you got up and hugged him. He hugged you back tightly, pressing his cheek into the top of your head, “I love you, Dick. I’ll help you guys out with this, okay? I mean, I know I’m not as good as either of you, but I’ll try.”
“Yeah,” he sniffled, “Thank you. Can’t wait for you to get back in uniform.”
“Me too,” you replied, holding back your own tears while you thought about how fucked you were.
#jason todd x reader#jason todd reader#jason todd#batman#red hood#dick grayson#nightwing#dc comics#dceu#dc universe#under the red hood
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Heathens - Soulless Reader x Demon Dean (Short Series)
A/N: Yes, I’m alive. I just don’t particularly want to discuss it in depth. For now? Have this. I have some stuff lined up to be posted, already. So, there’ll be some more over this next week that way. As always, feedback is incredible. And, I hope you all enjoy <3
PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.
Warnings: Harley/Joker kinda relationship. Unhealthy. Power driven. Implied/Upcoming smut. Etc. Each chapter will have individual warnings.
Word Count: Roughly 2,800
“Y/N?” Dean Winchester. A deep, gravelly voice you hadn't heard since Bobby died echoed around you. A voice that should have meant something. Instead, it made you turn slowly, a brow raised. Waiting for the consequences with a blank face.
He hadn't been sure it was you. Darkness covered you. But, that wasn't enough. The actions he'd witnessed too fundamentally wrong to be from the woman he'd known. Y/N wouldn't ever kill in cold blood. Wouldn't off someone simply for attempting to mug her.
But you had. Without even blinking. You simply took out your gun from the back of your jeans. Shot twice, causing the kid to fall to the ground. Picking up the bag, you slung it over your shoulders. Another bullet was slung, this time to the skull, before you walked away. Tucking the gun away. Only to find yourself stopped by Dean in the alley.
The Y/N he knew always cried after a hunt. After any kind of kill. His lifestyle had been necessary to you at the time, but taking a life had never come natural. If anyone had known that, it was Dean. You'd turned to him from the beginning. All the way until the day he'd shoved you away. Trying to protect you. Failing miserably from the look of things.
“Well, well, well.” Your head tilted to the side. Inspecting him as though he were a bug. “And to what do I owe the pleasure?” Your lips kicked up humorlessly. “One of the great Winchester Duo paying little ole me mind again. What an honor.” The sarcasm might have made him flinch in his original state, but he was able to withhold in his newer form- barely.
“Happened to be walking this way, on a job.” He wasn't lying. Not completely, anyway.
Crowley had directed him that way. Promising that he'd have a kill ready for Dean. A means to keep the Mark under control. Even as a demon, the need to shed blood was fixed into his very being thanks to the raised scar etched into this forearm.
Once, you'd been repulsed, and even scared, of how easily Dean had lifted the gun and fired. He had gotten to the point where he barely blinked as a human, much less as a Knight of Hell. And yet, he couldn't help but to wonder what had taken the light out of your eyes. The guilt out of your head. What had turned you into him.
“I see you found her.” Crowley's low voice called out, in a way that should have sent chills up your spine. Instead, your lips pulled up even wider.
“You're working with the King of Hell?” You chuckled darkly. Losing what bit of tension there'd been in your shoulders. “Man, I've missed out on a lot. When did you become his bitch, Dean?”
“I'm not his bitch,” He bit out. His eyes flashing black under the alley light. Expecting you to shiver in revulsion.
“Even better.” Your smile fell a bit, but your face didn't lose that off feel to it. As if you were possessed. Or, maybe even under a spell. “You became his slave, instead.”
“I'm no one's slave, Y/N.” His words echoed another past memory.
“I'm scared, Dean.” You'd swallowed tightly, looking into his green eyes. Scared wasn't enough to cover it. You were petrified. A dead man could see it.
“Why?” If he was able, he'd fight off every one of your fears. Kill them before they could even begin to form.
“Because you're changing.” You whispered brokenly. The sound ripped at his chest. “You're becoming a...a slave. To this life. The guilt. Your fear... And I can't do anything...just sit by and watch.”
“I'm not a slave to anyone.” He'd bit out. Pride winning out against the urge to protect. “Or, anything. We'll be fine, Y/N. We always are.”
“Funny.” You snorted. Drawing him back to the present. “I've heard that before,” Your mind had traveled to the same place. “And, yet, here we are.”
“Yes,” Crowley had been watching the exchange curiously, “here we are. Eloquent words, darling.”
“I try,” Tilting your head mockingly, you got to the meat of the situation. Clearly not wanting to be bothered. Particularly by them. “What do you want with me?”
“It would seem that you're part of a contract that went wrong-”
“Oh, yeah.” A false, heavy sigh left your lips. “I almost forgot about that.” Dean's gaze turned back to his fellow demon for a moment. Attempting to piece together what was happening. “Thanks, by the way. Really loved having a hell hound come after me.” You pinched your index finger to your thumb in an approving gesture. “It only got better with the small hoard of demons you sent on my ass.”
“Such sass-”
“I was nicer before I lost my soul. Forgive me for my lack of manners. I seem to have trouble feeling these days.” Coldness seeped from your lips. A weapon honed by the attacks.
“You're soulless?” Understanding swam through him. Why, although you were so different, you were still so familiar.
The way you moved. How you detached. An empty eeriness clung to your features. It was completely unnatural. As if you were his brother when he'd come back from hell. Broken. Missing a large part of what made you, you.
“It's not as awful as it sounds.” You ran your tongue over your teeth as you glared at the superior demon in front of you. “Actually, I like it. A lot.” Your fingers twitched back to your weapon, “which is why I don't want it back. The only thing I want is to be left alone.”
“The contract isn't complete-”
“It wasn't my contract.” You cut him off, sneering. The tension lining your body. Prepared to fight to keep yourself destitute. “So, not my problem.”
“But, it is ours.” The shorter man hissed while snapping his fingers. Sending your body flying through the air until it connected against the brick. Your skull cracked with enough force to knock you out. But, you'd live. After all, you were there for a reason. “All yours.” Crowley motioned at Dean. Signaling that you'd be his kill.
“Why her?” Dean narrowed his eyes. Taking in the shameless king in front of him. Resisting the desire to step between him and your lifeless body.
When he'd turned, he hadn't become the usual demon. Bits that hadn't quite died off when Metatron stabbed a blade into Dean's body made themselves known on a regular basis. Killing Lester rather than the wife had only been the most recent offense.
The king of the underworld not only needed the job finished, but he needed that almost human part of Dean gone. Wanted the obstinate side of him to crumble. If Dean killed you? The woman he'd loved at one point- if not always...the problematic demon would morph. He'd be the perfect side kick.
“I believe that you already know the answer to that question, Dean-o.” Crowley quipped, following the movement of the green that had reappeared. Seeing the hesitation, and the connection being made. “You're almost to your full potential. There's just a smidge that needs fixed to get you there. This will make everything right.” His eyes were slightly crazed, as if he needed this. “It feels good, right? To continue to be a demon. To not be riddled with those pesky emotions. Fear. Guilt. Love. To do what you want, when you want, without being held back. Without consequence.”
“You're right.” Dean's jaw clenched lightly. The first blade came out of his denim jacket, and into his hand. “I am a demon.” His lips pulled up into a twisted smile of his own. Growing confident in his decision. “I feel nothing. I can do what I want, when I want.” Crowley backed away as Dean stepped between you two. His back facing your body. “And, I'll kill you before I kill her.”
–
“Dean?” Your head should have hurt far worse than the dull ache given the amount of blood you could see smeared onto the pillow and sheets in the mirror above the bed as you squinted up. But, that was nothing new. You'd been that way for weeks. “Where the hell are we?”
He'd been pacing by the window when you'd woken up. Completely ignorant to your eyes opening. You turned his way, watching the way he moved.
His hand wrecked his hair over and over again. The jacket was gone, thrown onto the table with a blade made from a large jaw bone resting atop of it. Red flannel was tossed over a black t-shirt. Even as a demon, he had to layer up. If you could have felt amused, you would have.
“I'm not telling you.” His eyes flashed back in warning. As if that would matter to you. “You're a problem for me, Y/N. Always have been. Now? You fucked this up, too.”
“Oh, yes... Let's blame the soulless girl who's been back into the equation for five minutes.” Your eyes rolled heavily as you got to your feet to stretch. “Your problems came from your own hands, Winchester. The minute you sold yourself for Sam, it was over. I was the one unwillingly pulled into the fray.”
“Watch it.” The green was gone for a longer period this time. His anger showing in another snarl. “Go too far? That blade will land in your throat.”
“If you were going to do it, you would have already.” That devilish smirk crossed your lips. So certain now that emotion didn't rule you. “I've been out of your life for years, Dean. It should have been simple. Especially since you're sporting the Mark of Caine.” Your eyes landed on the reddened flesh. Too well versed to not recognize the symbol. “Take it this is the first blade?” You walked over to the weapon. Dried blood coated the yellowed, aged, bone. “You actually cut Crowley with this? To get me out of there?” Your brows rose as the weapon twisted in your hands. Mind churning as you inspected the rusted flakes clinging to it. “How sweet... I suppose you want paid back... the usual good enough?” Dean liked sex. That was no secret. He'd accepted more than his fair share from women he'd saved back in the day. His full lips pulled down into a deadly frown at your words. No doubt second guessing the decision to keep you alive. “Oh, lighten up.” Your eyes rolled at his grumpiness.
He'd be lying if he said that the offer wasn't appealing. Demonhood hadn't diminished his sexual appetites. If anything, they'd only grown stronger. Everything carnal expanding inside of him. However, he had bigger things to focus on. He'd nearly offed the King of Hell. Other demons would be on his ass sooner than later.
“You have any idea how you ended up in a contract?” Finding out who'd asked for your soul to get collected was the first step. That was about as far as he'd gotten.
“No clue.” Your finger was pricked by the point of the knife before you set it down. You sucked at the irony liquid out of habit. Grinning lightly at the way Dean's eyes followed the action. “I don't even really think one exists.” You finally stated, licking your lip clean of the rust flavored spot that had landed on it.
“You think he was trying to manipulate me?” He didn't seem surprised. Furious enough to have ignored the dart of your tongue.
It should have seemed odd to you. Dean with black eyes. The Winchester embracing the bad rather than the good. Not attempting to fight it anymore. But, you took it in stride. It was amazing how simple of a task it was when you didn't have any worries left.
“Tell me it doesn't make sense.” He couldn't. You knew it. “And you're just going to take that laying down?”
“He has an army of demons at his disposal. I just have me.” You looked at him expectantly while pointing to yourself. A grunt of acknowledgment left him. “And, you. But, that'll only last as long as he holds onto your soul.”
“Good point.” You pursed your lips. It was your turn to pace. Self preservation being the only thing you had left. “So, what're you planning to do about it?”
“You think I'm going to run.” He heard it in your voice. His pride hadn't been damaged by death. It rose its venomous head as you shrugged, pretending that wasn't what you were thinking. “So, what do you think I should do? After all, you seem to have it all figured out..” He plopped to the bed, looking at you expectantly. Daring you to come up with a better idea. Mocking you with his words. Still so similar to the man he'd been.
A low hum left you. Your eyes turned out to the window. Gazing at the world beyond as you moved. When it finally came together, you turned your head his way.
“You stopped the Apocalypse. You destroyed the Leviathans. And who knows what else since I've been gone.” Your pacing turned into more of a prowl until your hands rested on his shoulder. His eyes turned black immediately, again. You weren't sure if it was in response to your touch, or out of distrust. But, neither stopped you. “That was as a human. As a demon? I think you could take over Hell, and take all of the power for yourself.”
That caught his interest, “Yeah?”
“Let's face it, Dean.” Your lips brushed against his ear as you sat down on his lap. Drawing forth a low shiver. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you got to work. “Most demons know your name. They fear it.” Your hand brushed over the hair by his ear as you leaned back to look into his eyes. Staring into the bleakness. “You could have killed Crowley today. Easily.” He was too well trained not to be able to. “I know it. You know it. And, I'm sure he does.” Your lips curled up deviously. Setting the bait. “You've earned the crown, already.”
“And what's in it for you?” His eyes narrowed distrustfully. Knowing there was a catch. That no one, even those without a soul, came without a price.
“Besides you? And protection?” You shrugged nonchalantly. As if it meant nothing, “I rule by your side.”
“And here I thought demons were the power hungry ones.” His blackened eyes searched yours as you leaned forward.
“We soulless people have drives, too.” Your lips brushed against his lightly as you talked, making his breath hitch. “I want to live. I want to be safe. Unchallenged. I want to feel powerful for once in my pathetic life.” Your tongue wet your lips, grazing against his in the process. “And, this? This is how I can get all of that. You and your body are just a hell of a perk.”
“And your soul?” The million dollar question.
“I want it locked away.” There wasn't a moment of hesitation. “I meant what I said earlier. I don't want it back.” The almost empty E/C eyes searched his warily. The next question would determine everything. “And, your demonism?”
“It's me.” He answered gruffly. As if it was insulting you'd bothered to ask. “I don't want cured. I don't want to go back.” His dark smile made your lips kick back up. “I love this disease.”
“So, we have a deal?” Your grin grew. It was oddly chilling to Dean, even in his form. But, that didn't stop him from nodding. “Where you're a demon, does that mean we kiss on it?”
“Something this big, it takes a lot more than a kiss to seal it.” His raspy tone made your body break out in goosebumps. Your emotions may not have been there, but his words alone felt like a caress to your skin. As if your senses were amplified in those regards.
“Better get to work then,” Your lips met his as he pulled you down onto the bed. Signing over everything to you.
Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon @supernaturalginger
#supernatural#spn#supernatural reader insert#spn reader insert#supernatural fanfiction#spn fanfiction#dean winchester#dean#dean reader insert#dean winchester reader insert#dean winchester fanfiction#dean fanfiction#demon dean#demon dean x reader#dean x reader#dean x you#dean x y/n#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#deanmon#deanmon x reader
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Night Terrors
It’s usually Caroline who has problems with nightmares and a fear of the dark. Tonight, it’s someone else’s turn.
It was barely past 2 AM. All alone in the living room, donned in white pajamas with blue stripes and huddled up on the couch with a blanket around him, Min sat with the light on. The TV set was barely audible, Min worried about waking either Max or especially Caroline up.
Morning was still so far away and he was shaking with fright. It didn't matter that Max was so close by in his own bed in the room they shared together. Min couldn't take being in the dark any longer and slipped out without his brother noticing.
Was this what it was like for Caroline when she was having a bad night? It already was upsetting to Min and Max when it happened but now Min felt an all new level of empathy for her.
This was truly awful. Feeling so jumpy, seeing things that weren’t actually there, questioning every single sound, and too scared about having bad dreams to even attempt sleep.
In Min’s case, it was all because of a horror movie they’d gone to see. Caroline absolutely loved them and always asked if they’d like to accompany her. Min was beginning to dread it every single time.
It did seem a tad hypocritical. Min had seen his fair share of murder, even committing it himself, but seeing deranged serial killers, monsters, and spooks doing it with buckets of gore was too distasteful for him. Min himself preferred to deliver a quick shot through the head. He could never torture anyone. He’d held a man down and looked away while the White Rabbit had done that.
The movie they’d seen this time was a home invasion flick. Two everyday looking men had completely terrorized an innocent family. No one was safe; not even the baby or dog. Min’s stomach started churning and he actually had to spit out his mouthful of popcorn into a napkin, unable to swallow it.
Caroline and Max were seemingly unaffected. Caroline’s attention was glued to the screen when he looked over at her. Max had covered his eyes a few times but still seemed invested in what was going on. Only Min seemed to want to hightail it out of the theater when it was obviously the innocent family was doomed.
Now, while Max and Caroline were sleeping soundly, Min was paranoid and longing to see daylight. It was all infomercials or religious programming on TV as he channel surfed. He eventually found a rerun of a trashy talk show and decided to leave it there.
Seconds felt like minutes. Minutes felt like hours. Hours felt like days. Never before could Min recall a night dragging on this long. Looking at the clock on the wall made it ever worse. It seemed to be standing still. Maybe it was out of batteries? Should he get up to check?
“Are you alright?”
A soft voice behind him and a hand on his shoulder made Min shout in alarm and jump. In response, he heard a startled gasp as the hand was quickly moved. He quickly looked back to see a nervous looking Caroline in a flowy pink nightgown, scared from his extreme reaction yet the worry for him was obvious in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Min!” Now that Caroline could see his face she could tell which twin it was. “I didn’t think that would frighten you!”
“I-it’s OK, Miss White!” Min assured, wondering if his heart rate would ever slow down again. She’d nearly made him jump out of his skin! “Is the TV too noisy?” Although he wasn’t quite sure just how loud something had to be for Caroline’s ears to detect it he’d thought it was low enough.
“Not at all,” Caroline answered as she took a seat next to him on the couch. It felt almost odd to have some personal space for once without Max there. He and Min tended to feel like matching bookends when they’d sit so close to her. “I wanted some water and saw the light on. What are you doing up?”
“I...” Min hesitated. “Can’t sleep,” he answered, deciding to leave it at that; he didn’t want Caroline to think that he was a sissy. Everyone had troubles sleeping every once in awhile; it was a suitable excuse.
“Insomnia or something else?” Caroline pried. Min was awfully jumpy and he didn’t look very well.
“Insomnia,” Min answered quickly, only to get a skeptical look from Caroline. He wasn’t just laying awake in bed; he’d come all the way out here to turn the lights and TV on. He should have known that she’d realize there was more to it. “I...” It was so embarrassing to admit. “I didn’t like the movie...”
“Oh...” Caroline hadn’t expected that. “It was pretty extreme compared to what else we’ve seen,” she acknowledged after thinking about the content a little more. “I do hope the next one focuses more on the scares instead of prolonged violence.” Even she had winced when it came to the fate of the poor dog.
“Miss White...” Min had gone this far, he might as well tell her the whole truth since she wasn’t getting it. “I don’t...” He glanced away from her for a moment. “I don’t like horror movies. I haven’t liked any of them.” He looked back to see that Caroline wasn’t mad; rather her ears had perked up in surprise.
“But...” Caroline’s brow crinkled in confusion. She’d honestly had no clue. Min had never given any indication he felt this way. “You’ve gone to so many with me! Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t want to be left out...” Min muttered sheepishly.
Guilt stabbed at Caroline’s heart. She could see that as being a big enough motivator to force himself to keep going. “I’m so sorry! It won’t be like that! I’ll go to them on my own and you, Max, and I can go see something else together. I know Max will understand!”
Min smiled at her appreciatively. That went a lot easier than he expected and he likely would have saved himself a lot of grief if he’d just been honest sooner. Max didn’t like to do things without him anyway. Although, Min couldn’t think of any other genre Caroline tended to enjoy. What would they see instead?
“Hey... Can I ask you somethin’?” Min had come this far and Caroline recently stopped being such a grouch when he or Max asked her personal questions. She’d actually been willing to open up to them.
“Yes?” Caroline asked as she made herself more comfortable on the couch since she was going to be there longer than she expected.
“Why do you like those movies so much anyway?”
Caroline smirked. “Because, Min...” She paused for a moment, just picturing how he’d look at her after she explained. She really didn’t want to see it. This was going to be way more than someone as simple minded as Min was expecting. “That’s how I see the world. Happy endings are all a fantasy I can’t get into. Sometimes the monsters in the real world are obvious looking like the Joker but most of them appear just like your average person. They’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
Caroline leaned in closer to Min’s face, locking eye contact with him.
“They put needles in my irises to changed the pigment, Min,” Caroline said, making him flinch when she placed her two pointer fingers centimeters away from his eyes for emphasis before withdrawing them. “Feeling the pains of my body being altered, them chaining me up like an animal... It’s nothing for me to see someone get a chainsaw to the head in a movie. It actually could have been worse...” Caroline gently curled her hands around her throat. “They talked about removing my vocal cords since I wouldn't stop screaming,” She moved her hands and jabbed her pointer finger into the side of her head. “and doing brain surgery on me to make me more obedient. I’m in a horror movie myself that will never be over only I’VE become the monster to survive.”
Min was staring at her with his mouth agape. Talking in vivid detail about what had happened to her during the time she’d been experimented on was usually off limits. Now here Caroline suddenly was, giving Min new horrible images to fixate on and she wasn’t done.
Without realizing it Caroline had scooted over far enough to make Min feel somewhat trapped on the sofa. Normally he liked being close to her but this time it felt somewhat claustrophobic, like he was trapped. He could always stand up but he was almost afraid to look away from her for even a moment.
“Mr. Dent used to protect me. Mr. Nygma said it was nice to see a fresh face in Arkham. Miss Isley complimented my hair and helped me wash the blood out of it after that one riot. I know it upset you boys but Mr. Cobblepot was trying to be polite when he kissed me hand and introduced himself.” Caroline reflected fondly on the surprisingly pleasant meetings she’d had with these supposedly fearsome Rouges.
Caroline knew her place in hierarchy and purposely went out of her way to make it clear she wasn’t going to step on anyone’s toes. That respect had gone a long way in making sure no one had a reason to want to harm her. Only the Joker was a concern as no one was off limits if he came up with an idea that amused him.
“Those villains that all of Gotham are my allies now but I’m still terrified,” Caroline admitted, a small tremble to her voice. “The people that should be feared most are the ones who aren’t obvious about it. They’re the ones you might have welcomed into your home not realizing they have a thing for torturing animals. Your co-worker might be going home every night to abuse his wife. Those are the kinds of people who did this to me.”
A chill ran down Min’s spine when Caroline actually started laughing. It wasn’t a gleeful laugh but rather a desperate one as recalled how terrible her situation used to be. There was nothing else she could do about it now.
“I was the favorite of one of the regulars at that club I told you about. He... He told me that I reminded him of his daughter and he’d be furious if he caught her working in a place like this. Didn’t stop him from trying to feel me up, though!” Caroline forced another laugh as she slapped her knee. “No sirree!”
Caroline kept waiting for Min to try and say something but he had no idea what to do right now except listen. She could tell he was still with her even though he looked so uncomfortable.
“I have no doubt that I murdered men who had those around them convinced they were good people and they’re missed. I will NEVER regret setting that club on fire for how they treated all of us women there,” Caroline said firmly, more than sure of herself. "So that's why, Min. That's why I want to watch horror movies. It's nice to be sitting on the other end as an observer and know that, whether or not the characters live or die, they're no doubt walking away from that experience just as screwed up as I am."
That’s it. She was finally done. Caroline hadn’t held back, both wanting to finally spill her guts but also curious to see just how much Min could take. Since he wanted to know so bad she’d let him have it.
For as much sense as that made Min hadn't expected to hear all that from Caroline. He sat there for a moment as he took in everything she'd said, Caroline watching him with amusement.
It was hard for Caroline to repress a smug smile. The twins were sweet but “intelligent” would never be a word she’d associate them with. This was likely way too over Min’s head for him to even respond with anything.
It was nice that they all got along well but Caroline had been thinking about just how far she wanted to allow that. The twins had been calling her their “friend” of their own accord. She’d silently accepted that but wasn’t sure how she’d felt about it.
It was dangerous letting people get too close. Caroline could never directly push the twins away after all they’d done for her but maybe she could make them think they’d done it themselves.
Friends should be able to handle just how fucked up one another was, right?
“That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard...” Min finally replied. He felt heartbroken to have that kind of insight in Caroline’s thoughts. “I...” He wasn’t as good with words or being comforting like Max was but he had to try. “I hope me and Max can change your mind! We’ll take you out more often! We’ll show you more of the good stuff that’s out there!”
“You really think that cancels out everything I’ve been through?” Caroline snapped. This wasn’t how the flow of conversation was supposed to go. She’d planned for Min to awkwardly excuse himself and run away. For this to stop the twins from continuing to treat her more like family than a boss.
“N-No... But... What good is being angry and sad all the time doing for you?” Min asked nervously, wilting under Caroline’s harsh gaze. For such a tiny woman she could muster up looks that made grown men cower.
Min and Max had been through a scenario like this with Two Face keeping himself miserable by refusing to see Grace again. Caroline’s situation was a lot worse to the point where Min was overwhelmed but he was going to try his hardest to at least make it a little better.
“W-well I...” Caroline was the one who was tongue tied now. She didn’t have a snappy comeback prepared for Min’s question. “It’s not, but...”
“Aren’t you happy with us?” Min asked desperately. He and Max had tried so hard to bring a smile smile to the rabbit eared woman’s face that was usually seething with annoyance. “Or... Are we that useless to you too?” He held his breath for the answer. All Two Face had done was criticize he and Max no matter how hard they tried. Were they failures at being friends as well henchmen.
“Min...” Seeing him so vulnerable took all the wind out of Caroline’s sales. She didn’t have it in her to find a way to argue against him. “You and Max...” If she admitted this out loud she really would never be rid of them. “Are the only two good things in my life and I don’t know where I’d be right now if you both had given up on me.”
A smile of pure delight and happiness spread across Min’s face, gratitude radiating from his eyes. So Caroline did appreciate the two of them. It wasn’t just all in their heads. She really did need them.
Min’s smile was so contagious Caroline couldn’t help feeling happy as well despite the grim subject matter they’d been talking about. These damn twins could manage to brighten up her mood no matter what and maybe that was just what she needed.
“Fine...” Caroline sighed. “Fine! You win! I’ll let you and Max try and make me believe in ‘Happily ever afters’, OK?”
“We will, Miss White!” Min assured as he eagerly gripped both her hands and held them. “I promise!”
Caroline nodded. Only time would tell, she supposed, although she had plenty of doubts.
Feeling better, Min walked backed to his room with Caroline, wishing her a “goodnight” before entering. Once he shut the door behind him Caroline started to walk away, stopping when she heard that Max was awake.
Unable to stop herself from eavesdropping, Caroline pressed her ear against the door to hear their conversation clearly. It seems they were discussing where Min had been for so long.
“Hey, Max? Why don’t those horror movies bother you?” Min asked, wanting to hear his brother’s reasoning. He and Max hadn’t gone through anything like Caroline to justify wanting to see such upsetting subject matter.
“Two Face was scarier than any of those killers,” Max answered, then sharing a laugh with his brother while Caroline placed a hand over her mouth to muffle her chuckle. That was an excellent point! “I guess...” Joking aside, Max thought about it a little more. “I don’t feel like I have anything to be scared of. You’ve always been there to help me and now Miss White is protecting us too. So far we’ve killed almost anyone who messes with us,” he said proudly.
“Yeah, you’re right!” Min replied confidently. “Thanks, Max! I think I can go back to sleep now!”
Min should have known he could have gone to Max with his worries. His twin always had a more positive way of viewing the world that made sense to him. After saying goodnight Min laid down in his bed and quickly dozed off, the events of the movie no longing haunting him.
Hearing it go quiet, Caroline stood back from the door and started for her own bedroom down the hall. She hadn’t disregarded what Min said to her. She supposed that it could be possible to find a mix of seeing more positives in the world while staying realistic about the bad things that happen as well.
Gotham City was a harsh and cruel place to live in, yet Caroline was finding those little slices of paradise here and there. One of them was her own home, and it had only become better with her two new housemates.
“OK...” Caroline decided for certain, speaking to herself softly as she stood in front of the doorway to her room, looking back at the twins’ door. “I really will give it a shot.”
Saying and doing were two very different things, however. Life wasn’t all bad, she couldn’t argue that point with Min. Just maybe appreciating what she had a little more might make her happier in turn.That fairy tale ending just might be more realistic than she thought.
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Dating Drama - Part 3: The Fight
By: SassyShoulderAngel319
Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam, SuperFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood, Conner Kent/Superboy
Rating: PG-11 (for a big verbal fight)
Original Idea: Part 2 got too long so I made it a Part 3, and @batboys-and-other-messes had a lot to say that helped me make this! HUGE shoutout to her for helping so much, and even writing several lines of dialogue that kept the fight going!
Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) I’m so sorry Jason for hurting you like this I’ll make it up to you soon I promise. This one has a shouting argument so read with caution if you don’t like verbal fights. Side note: I legit actually teared up a little while writing this. @welovegroot
Part 1, Part 2, Part 4
^^^^^
“Conner? Seriously? Conner?” Jason demanded. I rolled my eyes. “You barely wake up to someone else’s hand on your face and your first instinct is it’s that abomination and not your f*%$ing soulmate?”
“Jay, chill,” I snapped. “And don’t call him an abomination.”
“That’s what Kon means, doesn’t it? In Kryptonian?” Jason retorted.
I sighed. “Yes, but he’s a good man.” I pushed some of my hair out of my face while Jason fumed. “Bear in mind, Jay, that in total, you and I have been together for all of one year—including before you died. Conner and I were together for three-and-a-half. He was always the one holding on to me when I woke up from illnesses or getting knocked unconscious. It’s a force of habit.”
That didn’t seem to calm him down any. I rubbed my temples but didn’t bother to continue defending my actions. I’d made my point.
“It’s not just that, Starbeam,” he said, ready to explode any moment. “It’s… everything!” He gestured wildly with his hands.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you think I don’t see the way you look at him? I know that you still love him, but do you even try to change that? Do you even try to hide it?”
“What do you want me to do?! Pretend that those last three-and-a-half years never happened?!”
“Of course not. I just want you to love me the way you used to!”
“We were teenagers, Jason! Were we even in love?”
He took a step back as though I’d slapped him. There was hurt in his eyes.
I backtracked. “Sorry. That was taking it a little far. It’s just… you grow up and look back and wonder if it was true or just hormones,” I said. “I know we’re soulmates, Jason. I can see the thread between us. Tying me to you and you to me.”
“Then why don’t you act like it?” Jason snapped.
Okay, ouch. It was my turn to take a step away from him. “Explain,” I said, being sharp to hide the pain.
“Your affection is forced—like you’re doing it out of obligation rather than actual affection. You think I can’t feel how hesitant you are when you kiss me? How you try not to flinch away from me every time I touch you?”
“I’m not used to you anymore, Jay! Your touch is different from Conner’s! You just feel different and it takes me a moment to remember it’s you!”
“How is mine different?”
“Conner’s always really gentle because of his super strength. He’s afraid he’s going to crush me so he’s extra careful not to!”
“Are you saying I’m not gentle with you?”
“I’m saying you’re not overly gentle,” I said, trying really hard to balance on the line between honesty and not hurting his feelings any more than I already had. “You know your own strength. You know that no matter how hard you hug me you’re not going to break my spine. Conner doesn’t. He barely touches me at first. It’s like I’m feeling a ghost on my shoulders until he adds a little extra pressure. You just sling your arm around me and I’m not used to that feeling.”
“So, you want me to do that?” Jason asked sharply.
“I want you to show affection how you show affection,” I said.
Jason paused. “And how do you show affection? It’s been so long since you initiated anything that I don’t remember.”
“Don’t do that,” I warned, fighting to keep my eyes from watering. “I’m trying, Jason.”
“Trying to do what? To fall in love with me again?” he snarled.
“Yes. And I already feel like I am, but part of me will always be Conner’s.”
Jason closed the distance between us and grabbed my upper arms. I stiffened, freaked for a moment that he’d hurt me. “That’s the problem! It’s not supposed to be like this! It’s supposed to be just you and me!” His voice was a low, almost guttural growl of anger.
“I’m not the one who upped and left for Qurac without telling anyone!” I snapped, shoving his arms off of me. “I’m not the one who got himself killed!”
“Don’t. You. Dare,” Jason snarled. “I got murdered and you’re blaming me?!”
“No, but you didn’t even tell me you were leaving! Bruce I can understand. But me? I felt you die, Jason! When the string between us burned black it actually burned. Woke me up from a dead sleep! I cried myself to sleep after your funeral!”
“How long after I died did you start dating that clone? Hmm? Bruce replaced me. You replaced me. The one person I thought wouldn’t—”
“What did you expect me to do? Stay hung up on you forever? Or move on and find another chance at happiness?!” I interrupted.
“I would have hoped that you would have waited a little longer to play the rebound game.”
“YOU STAYED AWAY FOR THREE YEARS!” I shouted.
“I HAD NO MEMORY FOR MOST OF THOSE! I WAS IN A COMA FOR ONE OF THEM!” Jason yelled.
“Hey Jay? Bruce was wondering—never mind,” Tim said, entering the room, turning pink, and immediately leaving.
“You know what?” I snapped the second Tim shut the door behind him. “You should be grateful to Conner. If not for him, you’d still be dead!”
“AND THEN WE’D ALL BE HAPPY!” Jason exploded. “I’d be dead and you’d still be with your precious Superboy! Maybe you’d even be married by now!”
My heart cramped. I elected not to tell Jason that the conversation of marriage had been touched on when Kon and I were together. I just felt like we were too young and I wasn’t ready just yet, back then. And not long after, before the subject could come up again, Jason returned to Gotham.
“I came back but… you’re still gone.”
“Jay…”
“Don’t,” he snapped, but it was a quiet snap—which was almost worse. “I know you don’t love me as much as I love you. I know you love that abomination more than you love me.” He snorted out his nose and looked to the ceiling, trying to hide that his eyes were watering. “Dying took everything away from me. Including YOU!”
“Well it’s your fault!” I spat, knowing I was crossing the line but so far past angry that I couldn’t even rein it in. Jason’s death wasn’t his fault—it was the Joker’s—but I couldn’t claim to be thinking clearly. “You left without telling me you were leaving—you left without saying goodbye! You put me in this situation! You put us in this situation because you didn’t want anyone to know where you’d gone! You died! And I was heartbroken! Conner was there for me when you left me! Why do you think I ran so quickly to him? I was lost and alone confused and devastated and looking for comfort—and there he was, offering comfort and compassion and company and solace to me freely.”
Tears spilled out of Jason’s eyes, prompting me to rub my own—and realize my cheeks were wet too. I wasn’t sure when mine had fallen, but it was recent enough that they hadn’t dried.
Jason glared at me. His eyes, piercing blue and flashing with the gunmetal tint of violence and darkness they’d always had, bored right into my soul. There was also a plea in them, though. Begging me not to say the words that were bubbling in my brain like an unwatched pot of water on a stove turned up too high.
But I was on a roll now.
“And that’s not even the worst part,” I continued.
“No?” he challenged, an angry set to his eyebrows. “What can possibly be worse than losing your soulmate?”
“The reason you’re losing me now,” I answered. “You lose something when you die. Your mind. Your soul. Something. You came back to this world different from when you left it, Jason. And the worst part is I’m furious with myself that I can’t force myself to love you!”
Jason didn’t just take a step back away from me. He stumbled backwards until his back hit the wall like his legs could no longer support him and I’d shoved him in the chest. But I hadn’t touched him. Another pair of tears slid down his face and splashed on his jacket, dripping down the leather with ease.
The gold string tying us together flared with a fiery flash and died down. Usually when we were in the same room it shone with a pleasant luster, but now it was the dullest, almost rusty gold I had ever seen it.
Jason recovered quickly, replacing whatever he felt at my words with more anger. “Fine then! Don’t love me! Don’t even be in the same room as me if you’re just going to pine for him every second you’re with me!” he spat bitterly.
^^^^^
Conner winced and nearly fell out of the sky, listening in to Starbeam’s fight with Red Hood from three miles away, his heart breaking for her with every word they threw at each other like the knives and shuriken that they both kept in their personal armories. He knew he shouldn’t have been listening, but he was. He’d heard Jason say his name and tuned in—just to make sure Jason wouldn’t hurt Starbeam, Conner promised. Her heart rate had spiked at one point, and it had taken all of his self-control not to go bursting in and taking her away.
When her voice shook with the tears that fell down her face, Conner found himself fighting back his own tears. They were from several strong emotions churning in his head. Empathy. Sorrow. Worry. But most of all, surprise. She… didn’t love Jason? Really? She… still loved… him?
He shook his head to knock the thoughts out of it and swept his bangs out of his eyes. That wasn’t important right now. She was hurting and everything else had to wait.
He couldn’t bring himself to leave just yet—though he should have left hours ago once he knew Starbeam wasn’t going to die of the infection she’d contracted.
^^^^^
I took a step back with one leg, just so I wouldn’t fall over as my balance swayed. “What are you saying, Jason?”
“I’m saying I’m not going to force you to be my girlfriend. Our souls may be tied together but your heart is elsewhere. You and me? We’re done. Unless you sort yourself out. I love you. You’ll always be my lucky star. But I love you enough to let you go.”
Before I could say anything, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him with a frightening sense of finality and yelling for Tim to ask what Bruce wanted.
I stood, rooted to the spot and frozen, eyes wide with surprise and tear tracks down my face. My soulmate just broke up with me. Was that even allowed? My eyebrows scrunched together, and I stared at the shut door.
Everything was just falling apart at the seams. Why had I taken that mission with Kon instead of letting Tim take it? Why did I think I could handle it without everything I knew and counted on crumbling around me? I knew I wasn’t over Conner yet and I did it anyway. What kind of idiot was I?
I bent forward, closing my hands over my face and breaking down in tears. I let myself sob for a few moments before looking around. Wayne Manor was full of all sorts of memories—most of them benign but several of them painful. I couldn’t be here right now. I had to get out.
I ran to the bedroom that had always been mine. My clothes were in the drawers and my backpack was on the bed.
I threw what I needed into the bag and bolted out the front door. My pack was thrown carelessly into the back seat before I got into the driver’s seat and tore off down the long drive. I had no idea where I was going. The only word in my mind was away.
Next
#Dating Drama#Part 3#The Fight#Dating Drama Part 3 The Fight#Jason Todd#Jason Todd Imagine#Jason Todd FanFiction#Red Hood#Red Hood Imagine#Red Hood FanFiction#Conner Kent#Conner Kent Imagine#Conner Kent FanFiction#Superboy#Superboy Imagine#Superboy FanFiction#DC#DC Imagine#DC FanFiction#BatFam#BatFam Imagine#BatFam FanFiction
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