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#and I think it’d make sense that each time Cassandra had those flashes were times where she would have been taking a stress token
hamable · 3 months
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I giving FHJY a rewatch currently bc I need to see if the number of times Cassandra was mentioned to have those flashes of red spiking pain prior to Mall Madness is equal to the number of stress tokens the Bad Kids are can risk getting (which I think is five iirc)
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heisenwhore · 3 years
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It Takes a Village
(Eventual) Karl Heisenberg x OC
Warning: mentions of violence/character death, stockholm syndrome, self-deprecation
Summary: Ileana Lakatos is rewarded for her faithful service to House Dimitrescu, but her gift is not quite as marvelous as its packaging.
Tag List: @stararch4ngell4dy @uselsshuman
A/N: So, this story is the first I have published in a long time, and it likely would have never seen the light of day if I hadn't come back to Tumblr and seen how many people were equally as obsessed with RE8 as I am. This chapter was originally around 5,000 words, but I had to cut it into multiple parts after some intense editing and a small bit of writer's block, so it is now less than 1,000, so i must offer you my sincere apologies. Is it good? Probably not, considering that it is currently 1:30 AM, but I physically cannot look at it in my drafts any more without deleting it entirely. This will be a slow burn of sorts, and there will be a few chapters before our Metal Daddy makes an appearance, so I ask you to be patient. I hope this story brings you some joy, or at least provides you with a distraction from whatever chaos you have going on in your life, as it has done for me.
Chapter 1— The Chamberlain
It was hard to remember a time before the castle. There were snippets, flashes of things that resembled memories, but nothing substantial that Ileana could hold onto. It’d been too long; she’d been too young. By now, she’d almost forgotten anything that did not pertain to her service towards House Dimitrescu.
Her parents, they were the one thing she could remember vividly. She saw her mother’s face every time she looked in a mirror, heard her voice each night when she laid down to sleep or whispered a lullaby she barely recalled the words to, and sometimes, if she tried very hard, she could remember the warmth of her touch. Her father was much harder to remember, she’d assumed it was due to the fact that she hadn’t seen a man in years, but she swore she could sense him when she fiddled with the necklace that hung between her breasts. Mostly, she remembered the day they left her. She remembered the putrid scent of smoke, the golden flames that flickered across the rooftop of that place she used to call home, the sound of their screams.
She tried not to think about it.
It’d been over a decade since then, and Ileana had spent the time doing her best to survive in the hell her parents had left her in. Part of her wished she hadn’t been so obedient, that she’d ran back into the burning home her father had carried her out of in the dead of the night before it collapsed and blocked off her path. That death would have been exponentially less painful than what awaited her now. Or, well, what would await her if she ever stepped out of line. She supposed she should be grateful for that obedience; it’d kept her alive and in her lady’s good graces.
A decade. It was the longest anyone had served House Dimitrescu. Alcina had told her that much herself over one of their dinners. Ileana wasn’t sure how she had managed to make it this far, but she wasn’t about to question the woman who’d housed and clothed her. All Ileana knew was that Alcina found her useful and tolerated her presence enough to confide in her, and that was enough to keep the blood she and her daughters had once tried to feast on in her veins, and that knowledge was enough to keep Ileana in line, no matter how embarrassing it may be to wait on the women. A wounded pride hurt substantially less than a severed head.
There were moments where Ileana could almost forget the reality of who she was dealing with. Call it Stockholm syndrome, but part of Ileana almost cared for the women she’d been employed under. Alcina was kinder to her than she was to the rest of the servants, giving Ileana permissions that she would never dare to give them. They were small, things that would seem inconsequential to anyone that wasn’t in Ileana’s position, but they were monumental for the lady. Alcina considered her family, that much she had made clear in their conversations, but Ileana was sure to not forget her place below her, lest she wind up like so many of the other servants she had spent her time with, another glass of wine for the lady to consume at mealtime.
Among the permissions Alcina had given her was a position above the servants that resided in the castle. It was hard work, much harder than preparing meals or slaughtering innocents for the lady and her daughters, but it was much less bloody. Ileana did her job well, running the castle like clockwork, keeping the girls under her in line, regretfully punishing the more rebellious ones who hadn’t yet been broken like she had. The servants feared her almost as much as they did the Dimitrescus, but that fear kept them all alive, for better or for worse.
Sometimes she wondered if she was any better than Alcina or her daughters. Sure, she’d never killed anyone, she wasn’t the one in the dungeons draining their blood for anyone’s consumption, but she had played enough of a role in more deaths than she cared to remember. Did it make her a monster too? Being the one to decide which girls were deserving of life and which ones had to be punished for mistakes she considered relatively tame? No, it was survival. She was sure any of them would do the same if they were in her position. Only the strong survived in this place, and the strong knew when to keep their heads down and follow orders like good soldiers. Those that didn’t? Well, Ileana did not let her mind dwell on them much. They were cannon fodder anyway.
Mother, she sounded like Cassandra.
It was alarming, how much the girls’ rhetoric had drifted into Ileana’s own thinking. Maybe it was their closeness, in age as well as proximity, that had caused such horrid thoughts to creep into Ileana’s mind, or maybe it was just that Ileana was as crazy as they were.
Or, maybe she was just as much a monster as them.
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queerbutstillhere · 4 years
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For my favourite writer, Damian and Jon get send to an Alternate Universe (maybe young justice cause I'm more familiar with it) and during their brief stay there everyone they interact with thinks they are dating because they act as a couple.
(I'm not sure how I feel about this, but oh well? I hope it's okay! Also it's kinda a weird situation, like they're in an alternate universe, but it's also just Young Justice? Idk I hope it makes sense!)
You know, it wasn't everyday that you're chilling with your Bros, a big blue portal opens in the ceiling and from it falls two vigilantes, cursing and kicking each other, right onto your coffee table, shattering it everyday.
Or at least it shouldn't be an everyday occurrence.
It certainly wasn't that surprising to say the least.
I suppose you want background, don't you?
It was a wonderful summer morning. Timothy Drake, Conner Kent, Cassie Sandsmark and Bart Allen had gone to visit their good friends Cissie and Greta, retired heroes. Tim, being a rich kid, could afford to do this for a weekend, and of course, the others could just run or fly there. So they went out for lunch and then went back to Cissies house, her mom conveniently out for the weekend. They were just chilling and catching up when the portal opened, people fell, and glass table shattered.
Greta had screamed when they fell, meanwhile the others just jumped up, ready to fight. The two vigilantes weren't terribly large, they had landed on top of each other, and the one on top was covered by a large black cape, a hood flipped over his head. He was the one swearing loudly. The other one was clearly a teen, wearing blue and red, and a red cape twisted underneath him. He had black hair and blue eyes and looked . . . Like Clark?
Tim and Kon exchanged a confused look.
"Damn you!"
"Stop it! Would you just stop fighting and hold still while I get a bearing on where the hell we are."
"No! Let go of me!"
"You're bleeding," the teen responded, arms tightly clasped around the person on top of him.
He had spotted Kon and apparently identified him as the current threat, body going rigid.
"I'm always bleeding, let go!"
There was a grunt and then cape man was pushing up, sitting on his companions stomachs as he looked around, eyes landing on Tim.
They both gasped at the same time.
"Robin?" Tim exclaimed, because standing in front of him was an. . . Older Damian?
"Drake," Damian shot back, tilting his head.
"Whoa, wait a minute," Kon said, stepping in front of Tim. "What's going on?"
"Tim, how does he know that?" Cissie asked.
"Know what? His last name?" Robin said with an eyeroll.
"God, Robin, lay off the bean burgers!" The younger man complained, shoving at Robin.
"Shut the hell up, Superboy. Now is not the time."
A small whine escaped "Superboy" and then he locked eyes with Kon again. Sure enough, on his chest was the S emblem of Superman. Kon took a step towards him, and in a flash, this Superboy was across the room, Robin between him and the wall as he glared at them, an arm behind him, touching Robin.
"Stay back. Who the hell are you people."
"Tt. Kent, don't be so naive," Robin said, poking his head out around the taller teens shoulder. "That is clearly my brother."
"You're-" Tim started confused.
"I see that, Rob, but who are the others?"
".... Admittedly I don't know. It appears Rex's portal dropped us into another dimension. . . Fascination."
"Uh! No! The last alternate dimension we got involved in, my dad was evil! Your dad doesn't even know we snuck out."
"Eh. I'm sure it'll be fine. What's the worst that can happen? They send West after us?"
"Robin!"
Tim raised an eyebrow at the two, motioning for the others to stand down, Cassie relaxed, and Cissie stopped edging towards her bow.
"Bart, can you clean up the glass, please?" Tim asked softly.
"Yeah." The speedster blurred around until all the glass pieces were collected, and then appeared with a vaccum, sweeping the rug.
Superboy and Robin had gone silent, watching this.
"He's a speedster."
"I see that."
"I don't trust them."
"And you think I do? They haven't attacked us yet, though, so that's a start."
Tim watched with hidden amusement, this whole time, as they stood against the wall, they had been touching the whole time, Robin's hands on Superboy's arm, which was wrapped around and hooked into Robin's utility belt. It was almost as if they were holding each other back.
"Okay. Why don't we do introductions instead of standing here and whispering," Tim said, stepping closer. "I'm Tim Drake."
"Red Robin. I know," Robin said softly.
Tim frowned, eyebrow raising. "I'm not..."
Robin's eyebrow also raised.
"Maybe he's not Red in this universe?" Superboy said softly.
Robin gently cuffed the back of Superboy's head. "Use your eyes. Read his body language, his posture, his body shape. He's a vigilante of some kind. It seems only reasonable that he would be Red Robin still. His recognized me, which means I have become Robin in this universe already. So unless he quit, or by some miracle, is Batman..."
"Okay, Damian, just, stop," Tim said, waving his hands. "Yes I know who you are. But I'm not Red Robin anymore."
"Oh you did quit?" Robin inquired.
"No. . . I uh. Changed my name."
"Fucking Drake," Kon muttered from behind them.
"Okay, you know what. Greta and I are gonna go to the kitchen why you guys sort this mess out," Cissie said, and sure enough, the two girls just exited stage left-
"What did you change it to?" Robin asked, he still hadn't moved from behind Superboy.
".... Drake."
Robin blinked once. Then twice.
"What the fuck?"
"Look! Okay! It's a powerful duck-"
"It's literally only aggressive when horny, Tim, what the hell?" Robin interrupted, staring at him with the biggest "what the fuck" expression ever.
"I TOLD YOU!" Bart nearly screamed, zipping over. "Hi! I'm Bart Allen, Impulse! I'm Barry's grandkid."
"Uh, Hi. I'm Superboy?" Superboy said, blue eyes cautiously scanning Bart.
"That's hilarious, because I'm Superboy," Kon said, stepping up, wrapping an arm around Tim's waist.
The two Superboy's had a glaring match.
"Cassandra Sandsmark. Wonder Girl."
"Oh, isn't Donna-"
"Alternate dimension," Robin reminded his Superboy.
Tim didn't miss the small sway that just happened to Robin. Neither did Superboy, as he suddenly spun and scooped up Robin.
"You dumbass," he huffed, looking around.
"I'm fine. We have more pressing matters-"
"You are literally bleeding through your armor."
"Kent I'm fine."
"Like hell."
Superboy looked at Tim.
"He took a shank to the stomach earlier. Do you have medical supplies?"
"Somewhere-"
They sent Bart off to look for those, while Superboy laid Robin down on the dining room table, gently undoing all his armor as Robin was forced to lay there helplessly, and just talk.
"As you have probably figured out by now, I'm Damian Wayne, and this is Jonathan Kent. We are Robin and Superboy from our universe," Damian explained, tugging off his gloves and then his mask.
"Wait does that make us brothers?" Kon asked, staring at Jonathan.
"What?" The younger Kent asked , barely glancing up from his task of gently pulling off Damian's layers, every touch and tug painfully gentle.
"Your dad is Clark, right?"
"Yeah."
"He's mine too. I'm Kon, Conner Kent."
"Oh! Cool!" Jon grinned at him brightly.
Neither of them noticed it, but Damian went rigid, and Jon mumbled an apology, looking back down. Bart returned with a first aid kit finally.
"This is all Cissie had."
"I'll take it," Jon said.
While he got to work, ripping his cape for spare bandaged, and using the surgical needle and string that Cissie had wisely decided there should be inside, Damian began explaining what had happened, how they had been battling an old enemy named Rex, and he had, in a last ditch effort, opened the portal, tossing them through it. Cassie and Tim asked a few questions to better understand, and Damian answered them all, barely bothered by Jon working on his stab wound, bandaging it as best he could.
"So wait. We don't exist on your world?" Cassie asked.
"Well, Tim does, and I do believe I've heard of a Cassandra Sandsmark. But I've never met you, Kon, nor do we have an Impulse. Just the Wally's and Barry. Oh and Jay."
"Wild."
"Well, Jon here doesn't exist in our timeline, so it'd not that surprising," Kon said to Bart.
"Yeah but still. What do people do without us?"
"We survive just fine, I assure you," Damian said sarcastically.
Jon smacked his thigh. "Hey, play nice."
"I am playing nice."
"No. You're being a dick."
"This is him being a dick?" Tim asked, eyebrow raised. "You should meet my Damian. . . Hey how old are you anyway."
"I'm seventeen. Jon is fifteen."
Tim exchanged a look with Kon, right as Damian gave a small grunt.
"Sorry, I'm almost done, okay? Hold still," Jon said, lightly touching Damian's arm before tying off the string.
They almost acted like a couple, with the gentle touches and soft tones they used.
"That's cute," Bart said softly, almost as if he had read Tim's mind.
Jon's head snapped up, and he looked at Bart, cheeks turning red.
"So we should most likely talk to Father, and maybe Kord to see how to get us back," Damian said to Tim.
"Yeah. I'll call Bruce. I think he's in Paris though so he may not be much help."
"He'd still like to know what is going on."
Tim shook his head slightly. "Don't you two worry, we'll get you boys back to your own universe as quick as possible."
"We're not children, Drake," Damian muttered, shaking his head. "God I can't believe you picked Drake!"
So they called Bruce, headed to the watchtower, changing on the way. When Tim walked out from the room on the batwing that he had been changing in, Damian just stared at him.
"Why are you brown and yellow."
"It's my uniform."
"That is the blandest uniform I have ever seen. That's not even the colors of a Drake."
"What?" Tim asked confused."
"You're literally wearing the colors of a female duck," Damian explained.
"Dami! Don't be rude!"
"It's cause he's such a bottom," Kon commented, grinning at Tim.
"Okay, gross," Damian said, making a face.
"What? Is that not gay culture on your universe?"
"I wouldn't know, frankly," Damian said with a sigh, looking down at his touchscreen gauntlet, messing with it.
". . . So you two aren't dating then?"
Both of them looked at Kon in alarm.
"What?!" Jon screeched.
"Why would we be dating?"
"Because you guys are all gross and touchy," Kon said, even as he leaned on Tim.
"We are not!" Jon protested. "He's my best friend!"
And yet, when they got to the watchtower, the two walked with their arms pressed together, murmuring softly and pointing things out to each other and in general acting like a couple. Tim may not know this Damian, but he can read closeted gay anywhere. Well except himself.
All of the Justice League was wary of these new vigilantes, but interested too, asking questions. Tiny angry Damian was not impressed with older, happier Damian, but older Damian just smiled and spoke gently to younger Damian for a moment, and then the kid huffed in annoyance and ran off.
"What did you tell him?" Jon asked softly.
"That it was okay and he would make mistakes and to just learn from them instead of beating himself up. And that I was proud of him because I remembered how hard and confusing it was to follow Bruce's rules, but things will get better."
Jon smiled fondly at Damian. "Things you wish you had been told?"
"Maybe."
"Totally not dating," Tim mumbled as he walked past. They both glared after him.
It took a few hours for them to figure out how to send Damian and Jon back, meanwhile, the two just hung out with Tim and Kon and chatted, swapping stories and finding out information about each other. Tim really couldn't believe they weren't dating. They sure acted like it.
"Okay, kiddos," everyone looked up as Barry walked over. "Time to go, we've got it all figured out."
They walked over to where the portal was supposed to open.
"Thank you, for helping," Damian said, pressing on his mask.
"It was our pleasure," Tim said with a grin.
Jon said goodbye to Kon, and then ran after Damian through the portal. Tim just laughed and shook his head, and turned to Kon.
"I liked them."
"They were most definitely dating without realizing it yet."
"Oh yeah."
Send me a prompt!
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