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scribbling-dragon · 2 years

Note

your red bandit au lives rent free in my head at all times *looks through your ao3 acc* DUDE HOW MANY FICS OF THESE TWO HAVE YOU WRITTEN HOLY SHIT YOU'RE A GODSEND clears throat anyways for the prompt right lets say perhaps since Tango's been *quite* the menace for a while, he made a few.. *enemies* who aren't as willing to let him off the hook as Jimmy (and their in story shippers) are... angst level is up to you but there's quite some potential for pain there :]

revenge and ransoms

Summary:

“Bit late for a walk, don't you think?”

He turns, a snarl already pulling his lips back. “Bit far from your empire, aren't you?” He responds.

The god laughs, eyes squinting shut in amusement. He’s in his god form, towering over him as he stands there. He tries not to feel too unsettled, too scared by the man standing in front of him. He fails, flinching back when Joel’s hands crackle with electricity.

(AO3 Link)

(Masterpost)

(4,052 words)

this kinda links to ignition, but only in setting up joel and tango's relationship (which is negative. like Negative). and, as always (y'know i've gotta do it to you) reblogs help a bunch more than likes! writing takes a while so i always always appreciate it :]

He’s reluctant to leave the creepers behind, even as the moonlight washes everything in a silver hue and it steadily creeps back towards the horizon line. He’s not particularly looking forward to explaining to Jimmy why his thirty minute walk turned into a several hours long trip to the creeper pen.

One of the smaller creepers, one that’s not quite young enough to be a sprout, but also not old enough to be a full-grown creeper seems especially reluctant to see him go, rubbing its head along his leg as he tries to nudge it back and away from the gate.

He pushes it, gently, back with his foot, holding it there as he unlatches the gate and slips out. Though, he can't resist leaning back over the fence and rubbing a hand along its head. It purrs, leaning into his touch, and the purr quickly fades out as he pulls his hand back.

“Sorry,” he whispers, “But if I don't go now I’m gonna be dead tomorrow, sleep or not.” The creeper very obviously does not understand him, but he takes another step back anyway, watching as it slowly realises he’s leaving and turns around, bounding back towards a small huddle of creepers.

He watches until it’s settled again, wriggling into a gap between two slightly larger creepers.

He pauses, at the sound of swishing feathers and two feet landing gently on the ground behind him. He stiffens, ears flicking back as he listens, not yet turning his head.

“Bit late for a walk, don't you think?”

He turns, a snarl already pulling his lips back. “Bit far from your empire, aren't you?” He responds.

“Scared?” The god taunts, taking a step forward that covers three of his own, frantically backtracking as the other’s wings spread, blocking any escape routes he might have even considered.

“Not at all.” He lies, even as he takes another step backwards. He’s sure Joel knows that too, if the grin spread over his face is any indication.

“Is it the lightshow?” Joel asks, and the lightning crackles again, blue electricity zipping around his hands as he turns them over, both of them watching the path it takes. Joel is watching the lightning intensely, a smirk still plastered onto his face.

He takes the distraction, darting to the side and barrelling his way beneath the wing blocking his path, knocking it aside probably a little too gently for whatever it was that Joel was trying to do.

He scrambles towards the path into the town, cursing Jimmy under his breath for putting the creeper ranch so far away from the main area. Something grabs his tail, and yanks, hard, pulling him to the ground and dragging him backwards.

He twists, lunging for Joel’s face as he looms over him, managing to dig his claws into the side of Joel’s face before yanking downwards. Joel releases him with a shout, reeling backwards and clutching at his face, glaring at him from between his fingers.

He bares his teeth, a growl bubbling low in his throat as he crouches close to the ground. He can feel blood under his nails, collecting there in a sticky mess that makes him shudder. He doesn't give Joel time to recover, turning tail and running again, skidding down the path and into Tumble Town.

It’s dark, the street completely deserted as he sprints down it, wind rushing past his ears as he zeroes in on the house at the end of the street.

He wheezes as something knocks into him from behind, sending him to the ground and keeping him there. He writhes, wriggling beneath the hold and trying to twist over and claw at him again.

He can't seem to wriggle his way out, breath coming in short bursts as he desperately tries to escape. The weight presses down a little further, a large hand seizing his chin and lifting it up in a grip that isn't gentle nor warm. He can't seem to breathe, inhaling but no oxygen going in as he gets progressively more and more lightheaded.

“You're not so scary,” Joel tips his head to the side, eyes flickering with pulses of lightning. He can feel it bursting over his own skin with white-hot agony, flickering over his neck and causing him to choke and gag with the pain of it, tears squeezing from his eyes.

He’s stopped struggling, he’s not sure when he did that, and instead lays on the street, Joel’s hand pressing his jaw shut. He prays and hopes, and whatever else, that one of those lights flicks on, that someone pokes their head out and manages to see him.

No lights flick on, no golden glow floods the street and he’s left, hardly struggling with lightning flickering over his skin in an agony that’s completely new to him. He hears someone laugh, he thinks, the sound echoing and warping above him until it’s barely recognisable.

The hand keeps his jaw clenched shut, the other pinching his nose shut, effectively suffocating him. He attempts to inhale, choking and coughing when he fails to, struggling in Joel’s grip slightly as he wriggles back and forth, trying to free himself from the god’s iron hold.

He struggles a little more violently as black starts to creep in at the edges of his vision, blurring the ground in front of him and making the crackling pain begin to fade away. He blinks, trying to shake his head and clear his eyes of the mist that seems to be covering them.

He feels his head thunk against the ground, floating away a moment later into inky nothingness, thoughts fading out as the darkness buries him completely.

--- --- ---

He gasps, lurching forward and bringing his hands up to his throat with a shock of pain. Coughs rattle his lungs as he inhales, squeezing his eyes shut as the brightness of everything around him assaults his senses, leaving him laying against a wall and holding his chest as he heaves for breath.

He manages to catch it, after however long spent on the floor feeling like he’s coughing up a lung and desperately trying to remember the breathing exercises Jimmy taught him. They work, slightly, and when he manages to open his eyes again they're blurred with tears that he’s quick to wipe away.

The brightness of the room he’s in doesn't fade, the overwhelming white of it assaulting his eyes in a way that’s actually painful, leaving him squinting at the quartz. There are bars along one wall, giving way to a slightly more decorated room than the vast expanse of empty quartz he’s found himself locked in.

The bars are made of quartz, too, and he stands to shuffle towards them, arms still stinging with pain as he reaches out to press a hand against it, heating his palm up and watching as hardly anything happens. The quartz warms slightly, but it doesn’t melt easily like the iron bars he’s used to.

“I doubt you can melt those, but I would love to watch you struggle.” Joel appears from nowhere, looming in a doorway he hadn't noticed, one arm pressed against the doorjamb, an infuriatingly smug look drawn on his face.

He growls in the back of his throat, a warning, even as he takes a step back from the bar, withdrawing his arms again, skin flickering with a warning of what happened last time. The burns sting as they brush against his clothes, causing him to drop the threat and suck in a deep breath instead.

“What do you want?” He grits out, glaring at Joel as he makes his way closer, sauntering over the floor, movements slow and mocking. Because he has all the time in the world. He presses a hand into the bar he had just been holding, making a small tutting sound in the back of his throat.

“That isn't how this is going to work, Red Bandit- can I call you Red?” Joel smiles at him, as though this is nothing more than a conversation between allies and that one of them isn't behind bars. “I'm gonna call you Red anyway, it’s so much more fitting than just Bandit, because you don't really do that anymore, do you?”

“No.”

“Good, good, otherwise your dear Sheriff would have been lying to us, wouldn't he?” He doesn't wait for a response, nodding his head and ploughing on, “Though, one thing he hasn't seemed to consider is how many enemies he’s going to have from openly courting a lowly ex-bandit such as yourself.”

“I'm not lowly.” He spits out, surging back up to the bars again, gripping one of them so hard that his claws scraped over the quartz with a screech. It startles Joel back for a moment, leaving him wide-eyed until he recovers. “I might be in a cage, but I've stayed out of prison so long for a reason, little god.”

“Ah, ah.” Joel steps back towards the bars, wings mantling as he leans up against them, “Watch that mouth of yours, Red, we haven't gotten to the deal part of this whole thing.” he waves a hand at him, “You have taken a significant amount of valuables from me over the years-”

“And you've replaced them every time.” He hisses, “You have so much wealth you don't even know what to do with it.”

“I do, but that doesn't mean there’s no payment for what was meant to be mine.” Joel doesn't loom closer, doesn't leer. He simply straightens up, eyes flashing dangerously. “I've sent an eagle to your Sheriff, that eagle will arrive there at approximately midday, and it is currently just past ten in the morning, long past the time where your Sheriff will have woken up, correct?”

He glares.

“Meaning, he should have noticed the absence of his dear Red, and we’ve left him just enough time to begin to worry, for that anxiety to build up, until there’s an eagle arriving with the terms and conditions for your release.”

Joel watches him for a moment, a long moment that makes him begin to fidget, tail swishing back and forth as he stands there, staring the god in the face.

“For every hour those terms are not met, the more-”

“Dad?”

Both of them pause at the appearance of a third voice, turning towards the doorway. A child, no older than five, is stood in the doorway, clinging to the doorjamb as he peeks around, eyes wide as he looks at them.

Joel looks back at him, a warning very clearly in his eyes as the child - Hermes - takes a cautious step into the room, looking at him warily, like he’s a caged animal. Which, looking at his current situation is probably not that inaccurate.

He doesn't watch the child for very long, taking a step back as Joel remains distracted, sitting down in the corner of his cell and curling up as best as he can on the incredibly uncomfortable and cold floor, watching as Hermes runs further into the room, curling his arms around Joel’s leg.

He watches, as the child peers from around Joel’s leg, wide eyes meeting his, before squeaking and hiding away again. He’s got a purple streak in his hair, matching Joel’s no doubt, and rather bright purple eyes. No one is actually sure of where he came from, just that Sausage and Joel were both somehow involved and share custody of the child.

“Who is that?” Hermes whispers, managing to be incredibly loud in the way only children can be.

“That is the Red Bandit,” Joel says, turning them around slowly so he’s crouching and facing him rather than away, pushing Hermes forward a little. “He’s stuck in there, I promise, he can't get to you.”

He curls his lip at how soft Joel’s voice goes with the child, nudging him forward with a careful hand until he’s stood almost at the bars, one hand curled around the quartz as best as he can, barely wrapping a hand around halfway until he falls short.

He doubts Hermes even comes up to his waist.

“Why are you a bandit?” Hermes asks, voice annoyingly loud and echoing in his ears. He presses them back a little, casting a glare at Joel over the child’s head, only to have it returned tenfold, Joel standing behind the child threateningly and watching him. “Aren't only bad people bandits?”

“Why do you think he’s in a cell, Hermes?” Joel interrupts, placing a hand on Hermes' shoulder. He watches, with slight interest, as a pair of tiny wings flap into view, feathers shining a dull yellow, similar to that of endstone. Interesting. “Only bad people go in cells, don't they?”

“But he doesn't look bad.” Hermes frowns at him, brain obviously struggling to comprehend whatever he’s got bouncing around in there. “He just looks like a big kitty cat.” He looks up at Joel, “Can I pet the big kitty cat?”

“No.” He says, gritting his teeth together and promising himself he’s not going to shout at this child’s dad in front of them, even as Joel smiles down at Hermes like he hung the sun, shoulders rising with barely restrained laughter. “I'm not a cat.”

“But you look like one.” Hermes presses closer to the bars, sticking a hand through to wave at him, “If you're not a cat what are you mister?”

“Don't call him that.” Joel interrupts, pulling Hermes back a little and stopping him from putting his hand through the bars again, “He’s a bandit, remember? Bandits are bad, which means…?”

“We’re not nice to them!” Hermes grins up at Joel, beaming incredibly bright and his little wings flapping behind him, as though trying to get him airborne.

“That’s right,” Joel pats Hermes on the head, in what might possibly be the most awkward show of affection, and he’s watched Jimmy interact with other people. “Why don't you go find other Dad? Maybe he’ll give you a cookie, hm?”

“I've already had three today!” Hermes announces, still grinning, and he’s rather certain by the way Joel’s face falls, shuttering in on itself, that three is too many cookies for them to be giving Hermes.

He turns his laugh into a cough, stifling it in one hand as Joel’s eyes dart over to him, a glare lingering in the space between them before he’s looking back at Hermes again. “Maybe ask for an apple then, or an orange.”

“Okay!” Hermes bounces a little in the same spot, hugging Joel’s arm before darting out of the door, feet thundering and echoing in the corridors. He hears him retreating for a lot longer than he can see him doing it.

“Sausage is here?” He asks, turning his eyes back to Joel. He doesn't bother to stand again, finally comfortable in his spot on the floor, instead watching as Joel’s jaw clenches. “Any particular reason for that?”

“He’s come to drop off Hermes, he’ll stick around until we've had a chance to chat, which won't be happening until after I'm done with you.”

“Don't let me keep you,” he holds his hands up, “Go see Sausage. I'm sure you're dying to know how Hermes has been doing.”

“Watch your mouth, Red.” Joel says, but he’s halfway out the door as he says it, destroying the effect slightly. He can hear him retreating for a similar amount of time as Hermes, footsteps thundering and echoing back towards him as he listens.

He’s heard a few rumours about Sausage and Joel, but from what he’s seen the two are purely friends that happen to share custody of a child. Hardly anyone has seen Hermes, either out of Joel and Sausage hiding him away, or pure coincidence, he’s not sure. He gets the feeling that he should have seen Hermes either.

His head thumps dully against the quartz as he leans it back, ears flicking forwards to listen to whatever is going on around them. He can't hear anything, the only people that would be on the island are probably as far away from him as possible, on the other side of the island chain, probably.

It’s a little odd that Joel keeps the islands for himself, the area larger than anything he could ever hope to keep to himself. The villagers seem content to live in the shadow of the Stratos Islands, for whatever reason. Perhaps they believe Joel is an actual god rather than a self-proclaimed one. Idiots.

He laughs to himself, cutting it off when it echoes back into his ears and he realises how odd it sounds. He closes his eyes, groaning and realising how boring it’s going to be, waiting for midday.

His arms still ache as he pulls them closer, tucking his chin into his chest and setting his eyes on the door as he waits. He holds a hand out in front of his face a moment later, after a time to consider his options, looking over the burns there.

They spiral over the back of his palms, criss-crossing and jaggedy, like the imprint of lightning on his skin. They circle up and around his elbow, curling to a stop just above it. They throb painfully when he brushes a hand over it, and he recoils with a hiss, tucking his arms close again and curling his tail over his feet.

He settles down a little more comfortably, or, as comfortable as he can be on a quartz floor with nothing to soften it. At least the Sheriff would give him a blanket, even if he wasn't going to be sticking around ten minutes past everyone going into their houses for the night. It’s the thought that counts, or whatever.

Still, he finds his eyes slipping closed more and more easily, and more and more frequently, even as he tries to continue staring at the door, reminding himself of his unknown fate if Jimmy fails to bring whatever Joel has requested.

He startles awake at a loud sound, something clattering over and a murmured apology. He sits up a little straighter, listening as the voices continue to talk, two of them sounding incredibly irritated as they go back and forth.

He can't quite make the words out, even as he strains his ears and leans forward, even going so far as to stand and walk over to the bars, removing that little extra distance as though he’s magically going to be able to hear whatever conversation is happening now.

He hears one particularly angry shout, before footsteps are thundering towards him again, a lot faster than before. He takes a hasty step back, not even making it look like he wasn't trying to listen as Joel storms into the room, looking positively thunderous, with- Jimmy!

He perks up a little bit at the appearance of Jimmy, and Jimmy smiles at him, before turning back to Joel. The Deputy follows him into the room, sparing Tango a little wave and a grin. They're both wearing elytra, Jimmy’s bright yellow one standing out in the blandness of the room.

“Okay, we’re here. Hand him over.” Jimmy puts his hands on his hips, looming over Joel now that the god has returned to his usual size, no longer in his eleven foot glory and shrinking back a little. Jimmy’s great at intimidating people, and he watches him do it with a smile, grinning as Jimmy takes a step closer, putting him and Joel almost nose to nose.

He probably appreciates the move more than Joel does, judging by the other’s glare and the way he shoves Jimmy back a moment later, sparks crackling over Jimmy’s badge. “I need your end of the deal first.”

“My Deputy has it,” Jimmy says, pointing at his Deputy, who does seem to be holding a bag of some kind, with one of the little drawstring thingies to hold it closed. Joel steps towards her instead, peering inside the bag and at the items within.

“Why don't we go to a room where I can lay everything out on a table?” She offers, “So you can make sure it’s all correct and in order.” Joel hesitates a moment, regarding him and Jimmy with thinly veiled suspicion, before his obvious want to check everything wins out and he leads the way, though not without a heavy sigh and a warning glare backwards.

“M’kay.” Jimmy nods to himself, before pulling a jingling ring of keys from his pocket.

“Uh, Jimmy, I love you, but I don't think your keys are going to work on this one.” He takes a step forward, towards Jimmy.

“Oh these aren't mine.” He slips one in the lock, trying it, before frowning and trying the next one. “I stole them from Joel when he was distracted.”

“You didn't.”

“I did.” Jimmy tries the fourth key, “I can leave you in here if you want me to return the keys to him.” He takes a half-step back, grin betraying his actual thoughts. He tries the fifth one, and it slips into the lock easily, turning with a click and letting him pull the bars back. “Always the last one you try.” He mutters.

He ignores Jimmy’s rambling, taking several steps forward and wrapping his arms around him in a clinging hug, ignoring the way his arms sting and burn from the exertion. “I'm never going on a midnight walk again, I swear.” He promises, and JImmy laughs, returning the hug.

“Don't make a promise you can't keep.” He jokes, pulling back from the hug to kiss him. It’s a short, sweet thing that contains no heat, both of them pulling back to stare into each other’s eyes. “You’ll be out walking within a month, I bet.”

“Not my fault the sprouts are cute at this time of year.”

“You say they're cute at every time of year.” Jimmy bumps their foreheads together, still smiling as he stares at him.

“Because they are.” He adjusts, wincing as a burning sensation travels up his arms again, seemingly catching every nerve on its way.

“Oh Tango,” Jimmy’s smile drops, an expression of concern taking over as he brings a hand to cradle his face, “What did he do to you?”

“I, uh,” he looks away, something blocking his throat and making it hard to swallow when Jimmy stares at him like that. “I don't want to talk about it here.” He manages, after a silence has stretched between them for too long, filled by nothing but their breathing and Jimmy’s concerned face.

“We should probably be getting home anyway,” Jimmy says, face entirely too neutral for that to mean anything good.

“What did you do?”

“Who said I did anything?” Jimmy protests, and he gives him a look, watching as the other folds almost instantly. “Okay, okay, I may have found where he keeps all of his dumb togas- and I may have purposefully brought a flint and steel with me. For reasons.”

“Jimmy.”

“Yeah, I reckon we should leave now.” Jimmy says, turning towards the doorway, “Joel’s probably either smelled the burning or realised the gold is all fake.

“Jimmy!”

“Don't sound so scandalised,” Jimmy sounds slightly offended, “You're not the only one that can commit a few crimes.”

“You're the Sheriff.”

“And the townspeople will understand that I had my reasons.” Jimmy shrugs. “Now c’mon, I really don't want Joel to catch me and I reckon he can fly faster than my rockets can carry me.”

“We’re talking about this back home.” He says, allowing Jimmy to pick him up, preparing a rocket for take-off.

“We’re also talking back home,” Jimmy says, “Don't think I didn't notice you wincing.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let’s go before Joel kills us. That’d kill the cool factor you've got going on right now.” He adjusts the grip he has around Jimmy’s neck, watching as the canary yellow elytra fans out, in preparation for their drop off the island.

He definitely loses the cool factor when he almost drops him though.

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