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psychovigilantewrites · 4 years

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Chapter 13 - Alone Again

Word Count: 15,835

TW: mentions of child r*pe, mentions of p*dophilia, mentions of self-harm, mentions of trauma, unconsensual biting, unprotected sex, mentions of mental breakdown.

A/N: Hey guys! I felt very bad for updating so slowly, so here it is early! Happy Valentine’s! Special thanks to those who has sent me fanart and kofis!! I appreciate them all, honestly, it’s really amazing.

Masterlist

Kofi

The ding of his phone woke Jason up from sleep. Even during the grogginess of slowly regaining consciousness, Jason knew who it was.

He blinked his eyes a few times to get used to waking up, and cleared his dry throat. He laid there in bed for a few moments, staring at the tin roof of the safe house he was so proud of. He wondered whether the text would be business or pleasure.

He liked it when you were there with him at night.

But you were too fucking stubborn, and was still hesitating to continue seeing him. It had been a month since the first time you joined him, and since then you went out with him a couple more times, only to investigate the elite pedophile ring that plagued Jason’s mind ever since he found out that it existed, and that Bruce had kept it from him.

Your dilemma meant that you weren’t with him all the time and got upset every time he killed someone.

Jason wasn’t a patient person, but the two of you still texted and called. Discussions, or banter. It was as if you were his friend.

As if everything wasn’t as fucked up as it was.

And however hard he tried to separate his feelings from his goals, to keep you at a distance, to wall himself off, he had obviously failed.

Because now he was smiling to himself at the thought of waking up to your texts.

He had freaked out at first, confused as to why he had started to hate you less and less over time, but now he realised that it didn’t matter how he felt anymore.

As long as he could snatch you away from Bruce.

The fact that you made him feel like he wasn’t alone anymore was only a bonus.

***

To say that it was troublesome to have Dick around would be an understatement.

He had originally mentioned that he was only going to stay for a week, but one week became two, and a month later, he. Was. Still. Fucking. Here.

The fact that you were living under the same roof as Batman meant that you were almost constantly on your feet, but now Nightwing was added to the equation, it felt suffocating.

At least Bruce didn’t like to poke into your personal life as much. Dick Grayson on the other hand, loved to play the doting older brother. You weren’t fooled, though. You knew he was still suspicious of you, and was using his caring nature to his advantage, touching the line between concern and straight up paranoia.

You sighed out loud.

Michelle Myers turned her head to glare at you. You stuck up your middle finger to her, earning an audible gasp.

Shit, you hadn’t meant to do that. You forgot where you were for a second.

School was one of the ways to escape the prying and ever analytical eyes of your older brother, and a way to run from the feelings of growing distance you felt between you and your family.

It was all Jason’s fault.

You had let him get into your head ever since he told you that Bruce had kept a disgustingly huge and important piece of information regarding Gotham’s elite society- the society that you were a part of.

You felt as though there was an invisible line that separated you and Bruce now.

It wasn’t a nice feeling.

“What the hell was that?” Michelle came up to your desk as you were packing to leave.

“I’m sorry?” you feigned innocence.

“You bitch!” she hissed, “You know what you did!”

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” Rob interjected.

“I have no idea?” you lied.

“Michelle?” Rob turned to her.

“She- she- she showed me the middle finger!” Michelle fumed.

“What?” Robert asked, “No way. That’s not something she would do. Would you?”

He turned to you.

You wondered if his parents were part of this human trafficking ring. You wondered if Michelle’s parents were.

“Of course not!” you defended yourself, “That would be unbecoming of me!”

“Michelle, it’s not nice to make up stories,” Rob rolled his eyes.

Rob’s father was the CEO of Gotham’s number one cybersecurity company, his mother inherited generations worth of wealth. Her lineage meant that she had an iron grip on Gotham and was often Bruce’s rival when it came to influence. If she were a man and didn’t take her husband’s surname, Bruce would probably have lost to her on countless occasions. The possibility of one or both of them secretly running an organized crime was high.

“I’m not!” Michelle snapped, “I’m telling the truth.”

Michelle’s mother was Gotham’s famous socialite in the 80s, her father a nobleman from England. Both very rich, but Mrs. Myers was new rich, and Mr. Myers wasn’t born and raised in Gotham. The chances were there, but probably not as high.

“Even if you were, and she did show you the middle finger, what’s the big deal? Stop being so uptight, Michelle,” Rob scolded her.

Michelle looked like she was about to pop a vein in her temple.

“Thanks Rob,” you said, “But really, it’s okay. I think Michelle might have made an honest mistake, that’s all. I’m sorry too, Michelle. Maybe I was brushing my hair aside and might have accidentally made a vulgar gesture.”

“There,” Rob smiled warmly at you, “Just a mistake. You going back now?”

“Yes, I think Alfred should be here already,” you nodded, “I’ll see you guys next week?”

“Good luck studying!” Rob wished you, “Though mocks would probably be a breeze for you.”

“I doubt it, but thank you Rob,” you made your way to leave. You turned your head to Michelle and gave her a knowing wink you knew would make her lose her mind, and walked away.

“Dick?” you called out to your older brother, who was attracting a lot of attention on the sidewalk. He had parallel parked his car on the side, and was leaning against it with his sunglasses on. He waved at you once he saw you approach him.

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

“Picking you up,” he shrugged.

“Where’s Alfred?”

“Home,” he simply said.

“And why did you come to pick me up?”

“Because why not?” he grinned, opening the passenger door for you to enter.

You narrowed your eyes at him and entered the car.

Dick had always made you feel comfortable, and you naturally felt at ease when you were with him, but lately, it was different.

You felt stiff, alert, and on guard when Dick was around because it felt like he was just waiting silently for you to fuck up, to let something slip. You hated it.

You hated how your family felt so far away from you because you had betrayed them.

“Hey, Dick?” you asked after five minutes of unusual silence.

“What’s up?”

“What does Bruce do when he’s on patrol alone?” you brought up.

Did Dick know about this elite pedophile ring? Was Dick keeping secrets from you as well?

“He patrols, I guess?” Dick answered.

“No, I meant during the nights when he tells me that he doesn’t need me around,” you explained, “What does he do then?”

You saw Dick frown.

“I don’t know,” he stated.

“Did he ever do that to you? Tell you he doesn’t need you and go off alone?” you probed.

“All the time,” he sighed.

“And you never found out what he was doing?”

“I- well- look, what’s this about?” Dick turned the question back at you, “Did something happen? Did you find something?”

“What am I supposed to find?” you interrogated.

“I don’t know!” he answered exasperatedly, “Sure, I wondered a lot back then, but that’s- that’s just how he is! He keeps secrets and leaves us out of a lot of things. Like Jason being alive for fuck’s sake. If he can keep something like that a secret for so long, God knows what he’s up to when he’s alone.”

“Didn’t you ever stop to question it?” you argued.

“Didn’t you?” Dick retaliated, “All these years as Robin, why are you only bringing this up now?”

You fell silent.

“Did something happen?” he repeated again.

“Nothing happened,” you insisted, looking at the cars zooming by outside the passenger window.

Silence again. And then-

“Jason used to question it all the time,” Dick sighed, calming down. “Even followed Bruce out. That was hilarious. Imaging trying to tail Batman.”

“He asked the right questions, then,” you grumbled.

“He did,” Dick admitted, “Didn’t get him anywhere, though.”

“Except six feet under,” you muttered bitterly.

Dick never replied to that.

***

“We still don’t know her identity, she pops in and out seemingly randomly, has mediocre tech, mediocre skills… I don’t know, Bruce. What kind of purpose does Jason have for her?” Dick stated.

You tried not to clench your jaw upon hearing that.

The three of you were in the Cave, discussing your next step for tracking Red Hood down. Bruce had suggested going after V instead and hoped that she would lead you to him. You were treading dangerous waters, and remained silent most of the time.

“The fact that she has still remained elusive shows some form of skill,” Bruce argued.

It was hard not to defend your alter-alter-ego. But, you were relieved. You had tried your best to ensure they wouldn’t suspect you, even changing your fighting style to something you weren’t too familiar with.

“Still doesn’t explain why she’s with him,” Dick shrugged, “Nothing on the traffic cams?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

You had also made sure to avoid all cameras, even parking and changing blocks away before meeting with Jason. Jason, on the other hand, drove the same fucking car, or the same fucking bike, though he frequently changed plate numbers.

Still, this was Batman and Nightwing you were talking about.

“Only one thing,” Batman replied, before pulling up a security camera footage.

Fuck.

��This was taken along Jackson Avenue in Old Gotham,” Bruce continued and played the footage.

It showed a very low quality pixelated video of you wearing a black hoodie and a black cap covering your head. You had a surgical mask on to blend in better with the crowd instead of a black mask that would automatically made you suspicious. Your face was unidentifiable.

You walked into an alleyway and never came back out.

“How are you sure this is her?” Dick asked, “She wasn’t seen in Old Gotham.”

“Height and body type are a match,” Bruce justified, “That backpack could be carrying her weapons and clothes.”

You hid that backpack in an unused dumbwaiter of a guestroom all the way on the other wing of the manor that Alfred did not bother to dust.

“Or it could be carrying textbooks,” Dick scoffed.

“There is also this-”

Bruce pulled up another traffic footage. It was of you in the same clothes, with Jason next to you on a nearly empty sidewalk with shops already closed. Jason was also wearing a hoodie that covered his head, and the camera was far away. The two of you were walking away from the camera.

“This was three hours later on Schnappe Avenue, three blocks away from Caprice, where they were last seen together a week ago.”

You had followed Jason to Caprice, a bar that hosted many criminals, and was owned by the Italian mob. Red Who was simply there to take his profits and ask a few questions regarding their connections to certain politicians in Gotham.

Rendezvous with Jason was complicated, as you both had to protect your identities. You would leave the manor two hours early, park somewhere very far away, then walk or take a taxi to a location maybe 3 kilometres away from where you would meet Jason, duck into a dark alley to change into your gear, and then grappled to where Jason parked. From there, the two of you would grapple to your location. Once you were done, you would go to his car where you stashed your bag. You would then reverse your steps and go home.

That night however, Jason, the fucking dickhead, got hungry and insisted that you followed him to a diner, which was why the both of you were in casual clothes walking together in the streets. Good thing that by fucking sheer luck, no security cameras picked you up at the restaurant.

“There were no cameras to follow them after that,” Bruce grit, “They must have strategically chosen the route.”

No, Jason was just hungry.

Dick remained silent, so you turned to look at him. You frowned at his expression. Dick’s eyes were glassy and soft.

“Is- is that really him?” he whispered.

“High possibility. It’s too coincidental to dismiss.”

“Wow,” Dick breathed, “He looks- he looks different.”

Ah, it was Dick’s first time seeing new Jason without his helmet on.

“Yes,” Bruce nodded stiffly.

“How different?” you spoke up for the first time.

You were curious.

“Well, he’s much bigger,” Dick chuckled, “And taller. Good for him. He always complained about his height. Used to bet with me that he’d grow taller. Can’t see his face, though. He used to whine about how I was stealing all the girls too. Pretty sure he had a crush on Barbara.”

Dick gave a sad smile, and you saw Bruce had turned to face away.

“Anyway,” Dick cleared his throat, “How do you suggest we go about this V girl?”

“Uh,” you started, “Why not interrogate the guy they were meeting?”

Fat chance Elio Bianchi would spill anything with what Red Hood threatened him with.

“Already did last week,” Bruce answered.

You didn’t patrol last week. Bruce suddenly extended your “grounding”, but you suspected that he wanted to keep you away from Jason.

“And?”

“Refuses to speak. Red Hood must have something on him.”

Yes, the age, location, and photos of all three of his daughters.

“So what next?” you wondered.

“We wait for his next move,” Bruce sighed, “He doesn’t seem to be doing anything too rash lately since making Elena Ciobanu shoot Victor Ibenescu. He is waiting for something.”

“Or maybe he’s finally got control?” you suggested, “Over everyone? I mean- the reason why he did all those violent things were all gang-related, wasn’t it? Maybe now he’s made his point, so everyone is following his rules?”

“Maybe,” Bruce hummed, “But this wasn’t about taking control. Now we know who he is and what his motives are.”

“He did kidnap you,” Dick added, “It’s more likely that he’s planning to do something like that again.”

“Which is why,” Bruce continued, “I don’t think you should be out with us for now.”

“Oh, come on, Bruce,” you complained, “You already grounded me for an extra week!”

“It’s not about punishment. It’s about keeping you safe.”

“I wasn’t even in uniform the last time he kidnapped me!” you debated, “I’m the safest with you.”

“In the event that we do find him, I would need to talk to him,” Bruce insisted, “Having you there might trigger something in him. It’s best if you stayed away.”

“Dick!” you turned to your older brother for help.

“Sorry kid, but I’m with him on this one,” he gave you an apologetic look.

“He could kidnap me in the middle of the day!” you ranted, “He could blow up the school, the train, hell, even the library again!”

Both Dick and Bruce frowned.

“Again?” Dick repeated.

Fuck.

“Yeah, I already lost one library, he could very well just find out where I am and blow it up or something,” you covered.

Bruce remained silent, just looking at you with intensity. You tried your absolute best not to recoil, not to give away that your heart was beating so violently against your chest that you could hear it in your ears.

“How important is your exam?” Bruce spoke.

“It’s my mocks, Bruce,” you grumbled, “Scholarships are waiting for mocks results. I’m not letting a delusional psycho with daddy issues get in the way of my future, no matter who he is.”

You intentionally aimed those words at the both of them. Jason was Bruce’s son, and Dick’s brother, and you wanted them to feel it.

“Then you’re only to go to and from school,” Bruce directed, “No staying back, either, and Alfred will wait outside the whole time.”

“Seriously?” you pinched the bridge of your nose, “Fine! Fine. I just- I just wanted to test myself. Whatever.”

“Test yourself?” Dick asked.

You looked at Dick straight in the eye and said, “I wanted to see if I could face him after he kidnapped and sexually assaulted me.”

With that, you stormed off after manipulating the people closest to you to make sure you throw them off of any suspicions of you.

You locked yourself in your room and collapsed on the bed with a frustrated huff. You took out your phone to send Jason a text.

You: What are you doing tonight?

Five minutes later, your phone dinged.

Sexy Hunk From Library: Usual. You coming? You: You have any leads? Sexy Hunk From Library: Possibly.

You stared at your phone, assessing the risks if you were to go out with him that night. Then, your phone dinged again.

Sexy Hunk From Library: Kill time with me?

The corners of your lips twitched upwards.

You: Miss me that much?

You saw that he was typing, then stopped, then typed again. Until finally-

Sexy Hunk From Library: Are you coming or not?

It was funny how you could still chuckle to yourself despite how fucked you were. You were fucked because you betrayed your family, you were fucked because your family was suspicious of you, and you were fucked because for the past couple weeks of occasionally seeing and texting him, you realised that you had begun to like him more and more.

The dangerous and violent parts of him still made you wary, but despite all that, you couldn’t help but want to be by his side. It confused the hell out of you, because sometimes he didn’t act like how you would expect him to act at all.

Sometimes he was actually nice.

For instance, he had treated you to that burger when he insisted that you went with him to the diner.

Or the time when he argued with you over pineapple on pizza, as if you were friends who didn’t hate each other.

And even when you almost got punched in the face by a massive brute who had been dealing to kids. The punch never landed because Red Hood stopped him, beat him half to death, and then shot him in the kneecaps, before turning to you and asking if you were okay.

You thought that was sort of nice of him.

Fuck, you wanted to see him.

You texted him back.

You: Time and location?

***

Jason waited impatiently for you to arrive.

He was tapping his fingers rapidly against the steering wheel. Somehow he felt like he was going to be sick.

Despite the gentle drizzle that fell against the glass windows and the cold wind blowing outside, Jason felt hot and stuffy.

He looked at his reflection in the rear view mirror, coming into contact with his tired, sunken, blue eyes. He tried to fix his hair, combing it to the side with his fingers then groaning before ruffling it up again.

Fuck, what was he doing?

He spent the next minute trying and failing to fix his hair, that he didn’t notice you approached the vehicle until your rapped your knuckles against the window. He jumped at the sudden sound, earning a raised eyebrow from you. He unlocked the door and you climbed inside.

“You’re late,” he grumbled, aware of his hoarse voice. It was the first time he had spoken to anyone in two days.

“Only by five minutes,” you pouted.

“Late is late,” he snapped.

“You’re okay with killing people, but will bitch if I’m slightly late?” you scoffed.

“Just be on time next time,” he grit.

“Fine, I’m sorry I’m late,” you rolled your eyes. “Now can we get to it?”

Jason gave you a glare, his jaw clenching in frustration. He took a few moments to calm down.

“You know Maria and Joseph Powers?”

“Of the Powers Group?” you frowned, “Powers Hotel? Sure, I know them.”

“I have reason to believe that they’re one of the people involved in this child trafficking business,” Jason revealed.

“W-what?” you gasped, “Do you have evidence?”

“Some,” Jason replied, “They’ve been investigated before. I guess Batman played a part in that, but everything seems to have been dropped. Document trails, eye witness statements, physical evidence- all disappeared.”

He saw that you were struggling to keep up, mouth gaping and eyes wide.

“What’s wrong?” he frowned, “Get a hold of yourself.”

“Bruce knew?” you whispered.

“What doesn’t he know?” Jason scoffed.

“I sat on the same fucking table as them last Christmas ball,” you growled, “I went to their kid’s fifth birthday party. Bruce shook hands and smiled at them and then invited them over for drinks.”

Jason resisted a smirk. He finally got you to understand. Your arms were crossed, and your face in a scowl, obviously pissed.

Bruce probably did all of that to keep them close so he could keep an eye on them, maybe even find some more details. But Jason wasn’t going to tell you that.

You still had a lot to learn, but Jason was willing to be the one to teach you.

“Where will he be tonight?” he asked.

“I… I’m not too sure,” you said quietly.

Jason raised an eyebrow at you.

“What’s this? He didn’t tell his beloved Robin his plans? Again?”

You remained silent, looking straight ahead.

“I was wondering about that,” he continued, “Friday night and you’re here with me instead. Something happened?”

This time, Jason waited patiently for you to respond, enjoying the way you were obviously uncomfortable with his interrogation.

“He…” you started slowly, “He won’t let me out with him.”

“You got into trouble again?” he smirked.

“No, it’s because of you,” you shot him a sharp glare.

If only looks could kill.

“He knows you have it out for me, so for my safety,” you spat, “He won’t let me out.”

Jason blinked at you once, twice, then let out a booming laugh.

“Oh, man. Oh, sweetheart,” he pretended to wipe away tears, “Look at you, all angry at me.”

He reached across towards you and booped you on the nose. You swatted his hand away violently.

Jason loved teasing you. It made his heart all warm.

You were looking away again, and had the mask covering half your face, but even in the dark alley, he could make out your long lashes, clumped together because of the rain, and the way your shiny hair framed your face, also damp.

Your smell was intoxicating, filling his car with a pleasant scent of vanilla and strawberries. The longer Jason spent time with you, the more he felt himself getting pulled deeper and deeper in-

“He’s investigating me,” you interrupted his trance. “Well, not me specifically, but V. He’s got footage of us walking to that stupid diner-”

You paused to shoot daggers at him.

“-good thing I kept the hoodie and mask on, and thank the fucking stars that there were no cameras after that leading to to the diner. We can’t be reckless like that again, Jason.”

Jason rolled his eyes at your lecture

“So now what? You gonna kill the Powers’? How did you find out about them anyway?” you asked.

“Through the Ibenescu problem,” he explained, “Whenever they trafficked girls, I’ve always found a few kids. Always not more than ten at a time. Didn’t add up. All this while I’ve made sure there were no kids involved, be it local or foreign. And after going to each and every single fucking brothel and threatening every single pimp in Gotham-”

Jaon let out a tired sigh at the memory of going all over Gotham to turn over every rock, paying and threatening people for information. He allowed sex work as long as they kept to his standards, and as long as they weren’t trafficked. He made sure all the girls were well taken care of, and he made it very clear as to what would happen to the pimps if they weren’t.

The girls all loved him.

“- no sign of kids. Which meant that Gotham was being used as a proxy and they were being transported outside of Gotham, or there were other powers at play. So I dug in deeper. Hacked into GCPD records, looked at the political scandals and allegations that got dropped and was never brought to court. The Powers and some others came up a few times, but not too heavy. Tax evasion and stuff like that. Until I hacked into the FBI.”

“The FBI?” you gasped.

He smirked to himself. You were paying careful attention. It made him feel like he was some sort of mentor.

“It’s really not that difficult when you know people,” he scoffed, “Anyway, the Powers’ were originally under investigation for money laundering because the Powers’ Group Executive Accountant, who mysteriously died of a suicide, reported large sums of money that didn’t belong there. Then they got an external auditor, who is also deceased, reported inconsistencies with signatures and accounts.”

Jason reached to the back seats of his car and passed you a thick file that contained the FBI investigation.

“After that, they checked emails. Nothing. Then they wiretapped them, and recorded conversations regarding child sex trafficking from all over the world, for other politicians and rich pigs in this goddamned country- whose names are redacted in the files. However, they didn’t keep the audio evidence. Everything’s been terminated.”

“Wait, this can’t be right,” you frowned, flipping through the pages. “This case is almost twenty years old and… dropped? In 2012!”

“Exactly,” Jason grit.

“How long have you been investigating this?”

“Over the last two months.”

“So you already knew the Powers’ were involved,” you looked at him in suspicion, “Why haven’t you killed them yet?”

Ah, you caught on quick. Not bad.

“Because of tonight, sweetheart,” he answered, “I wiretapped them myself. There’s a shipment tonight, and one of the Powers’ need to confirm it half an hour before docking, or else they won’t dock, and it’ll be a bitch to track down again.”

“Then this is great,” your eyes widen, “We catch them red handed at the docks, take photos, spread them online, make it go viral. They won’t be able to cover it up when there’s a public outcry.”

Jason started chuckling.

“What?” you demanded.

“Look through the files. Do you see any pictures? Videos?”

You frowned.

“Do you really think they would be stupid enough to physically be there, where the authorities can, and I quote, catch them red handed?”

You shook your head slowly.

“Even if they were there, pictures can be easily faked these days. Hell, even videos. Audios, easiest of the two. They would just claim that someone was slandering them, then move on. If the feds don’t want to charge them, do you really think the cops could? And what happens if they were brought to court anyway? They can easily pay off judges and jurors.”

Jason liked this. Educating you.

Just face it, baby girl,” he added, “The system is fucked. Batman’s been trying for over a decade, and the Powers’ are still having Christmas balls.”

You let out a sad sigh.

“Let’s just get to the docks, then.”

Jason put on his mask and helmet, and drove away.

***

You were sick and tired of Dixon Docks, but criminals just couldn’t stop choosing that location for smuggling. There was also Port Adams, but the port was located near Blackgate Isle, so the marine security was tighter.

Any normal city, a place like Dixon Docks would have much tighter security after countless cases of illegal smuggling, but this was Gotham.

The security that GCPD put out on patrol with what little resources they could spare were easily bribed. The dock security company themselves were probably owned and bought over by a crime lord, not unlike the one beside you right now.

“They’re here,” Jason pointed out. The both of you were on the rooftop of a warehouse on the docks.

You squinted in the distance and saw a ship coming nearer. You missed Batman’s tech whenever you went out with Jason. Your lack of state of the art domino mask made it harder to see faraway objects and in the dark.

The docks were quiet, except for the sound of the water currents and sea breeze, and the twenty or so hired guns grumbling about the weather. You theorized that this operation was usually similar in the past, where it went smoothly without much obstacles, judging from the lack of hired security. Jason also mentioned that the kids were usually brought in along with older trafficked victims from other operations to help cover up, but since his harsh crackdown on human trafficking, they were forced to operate alone.

You waited until the industrial ship dock amongst the other unoccupied ships, and then heard some voices yelling in the distance. From the ship came out 4 girls and 3 boys in tattered clothes, malnourished and with frightful eyes. Their ages ranged from about 12-15 years old.

Accompanying them were three armed men, shoving the children to walk faster. Your blood started boiling at the sight.

“This should be easy,”Jason stretched, getting ready to make a move.

“We shouldn’t underestimate them,” you advised, “We should think of a strategy to-”

Jason leapt from the age of the rooftop without warning.

“Wait! Red Hood! Fuck!” you whispered angrily, and followed suit.

Red Hood ran ahead of you with inhuman speed towards the children, guns out and firing at the men.

You heard the children scream, the men shouting, and more guns firing.

It all happened so fast, that by the time you reached there, Red Hood was standing tall and proud over more than a dozen dead bodies.

“What the fuck?!” you shoved Red Hood as hard as you could. He didn’t budge. “Are you fucking crazy?”

“What?”

“You opened fire when there are children right in the middle of everything!” you yelled.

“I’ve got an excellent aim and I caught them off guard,” he defended, “They couldn’t even respond on time.”

“The kids could have caught a stray bullet, you fucking dickhead!” you shoved him again.

This time, he growled at you and gripped your wrists tight, pulling you harshly to him.

“If you do that again, I’ll make sure you regret it,” he threatened you with a low voice that sounded even more hostile through the voice scrambler.

You wanted to say more, but then you heard a cry from one of the children. You wrenched your hand away from his grip and walked towards them.

They were kneeling on the ground, gripping each other tight by the clothes and arms. They were Asian. You guessed maybe South or South East.

“Hey,” you gently called out, slowly kneeling to their level. They recoiled at your approach.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you,” you said, putting your arms up in surrender to convince them. “See? No guns.”

Their expressions didn’t change. You were just another threat to them.

“Don’t any of you speak English?” Red Hood grunted.

You glared at him.

“What? It’d help,” he shrugged.

“Even if they did, do you really think they’d speak to you?” you snapped.

You turned to them again, and despite the risk, pulled down your mask and hoped that there weren’t any cameras nearby.

“Hey, we’re here to help okay?” you maintained a slow, low voice.

Two girls then looked at each other, and one of them spoke up.

“I- I can speak English,” she said in a shaky voice.

“That’s great,” you smiled sweetly, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Magdeline,” she whispered.

“Nice to meet you, Magdeline. I’m V,” you pointed at Jason, “And that grumpy tomato head there is Red Hood.”

You saw Magdeline and two others share a smile. They must have understood you.

“We’re not going to hurt you, okay? We just want to help.”

“Are you going to take us home?” another girl squeaked.

“No,” you winced, “But, we’re going to take you to the police, and they will help, okay?”

They nodded, wiping tears from their eyes.

“So what we’re going to do is that we’re going to call-”

You stopped mid sentence.

Suddenly, you felt a chill down your spine, as if someone dropped an ice cube down your shirt. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and you hurriedly put on your mask again.

“What’s wrong?” Red Hood sensed. You stood up straight, your heart beating fast.

“We need to go,” you told him, hearing the blood rush to your ears, your eyes darting quick to every shadow, to detect any movements from the darkness.

“What?”

“He’s here,” you whispered.

Red Hood looked at you for a moment, and then-

“Fuck. Come on.”

“Please don’t leave us,” Magdeline fisted your clothes, “Please.”

She looked like she was going to cry again.

“It’s okay,” you told her, “Someone’s here to help you.”

“No! Please! I want you!” she wailed.

“Shh,” you tried to calm her down.

“V, we don’t have time,” Red Hood growled.

“He’s a hero,” you ignored him, “He may look big and scary at first, but he’s a hero, okay? I promise.”

She continued to wail. You forced her off you and stepped back.

At the corner of your eye, you saw a shadow in the sky, and felt your heart drop to your stomach.

So this is what it felt like to be hunted by Batman.

“Come on,” you told Red Hood, and the two of you ran in the direction of Jason’s car, swerving between shipment containers for more cover.

Then, in the distance, you heard a loud familiar boom.

“JASON!”

The man in question who was running ahead of you started chuckling, then raided two middle fingers up in the air.

You looked behind you, but Batman was nowhere to be seen. Not in the sky, not on the roofs, not on the shipment containers, not even in the shadows.

Perhaps he saw the children and stopped-

You ran into Red Hood’s hard back. He had come to a sudden stop.

Fuck.

You peeked from behind him, and was relieved when you only saw Nightwing standing about ten feet away from you.

“Jason,” he called out, “Hey, buddy.”

“Quit your Golden Boy act, Grayson,” Red Hood snarled, “You’re almost as guilty as he is.”

He took out a handgun and aimed it at Nightwing.

“Come on, Jay,” Nightwing tried, “You’re not gonna shoot me.”

“You wanna bet?” he growled and cocked it.

You remained behind Jason for cover in fear of being recognized. Half your face was covered and you were wearing contact lenses that hid your true eye color, but you couldn’t be too careful.

“Who’s your friend, Jason?” you felt Dick’s eyes on you, “We can helo her too.”

Jason responded with a dark chuckle.

“Hey, sweetheart, what’s your name?” Nightwing stepped closer in your direction.

“Stay the fuck away from her,” Jason fumed.

Dick stopped in his tracks and raised his arms back up in surrender.

“Okay,” he nodded slowly, “It’s fine. Let’s just talk.”

***

Jason felt a punch in his gut when he saw his older brother appear in front of him.

Grayson had aged slightly, his hair longer, face more defined. It was guilt that Jason was feeling. Grayson had always been there for him. Training him, teaching him, giving him advise on girls and on being a teen.

Yet, even at that time, he had felt immense anger towards him, jealous that he was constantly in Grayson’s shadow no matter how hard he tried to be his own man.

And now? Grayson didn’t do jackshit to Joker either, the person who took the life of his supposed younger brother whom he said he always loved and cared for. No, Grayson was the same as everyone else.

Once Jason was out of the picture, they all gladly moved on and replaced him with you.

So fuck talking.

“No,” Jason tried as hard as he could to not let the tightness he felt in his chest affect him. “Move. I won’t repeat it again.”

“We miss you, Jason,” Dick pleaded, “You have no idea how happy I was when I found out you were alive.”

His throat was constricting, his breath shallow. No, Grayson was lying.

“Alfred spent the whole night crying,” Dick chuckled.

Stop it. Don’t talk about Alfred.

He felt his eyes stinging with tears.

“He was saying that he couldn’t wait to make your favourite-”

BANG!

“Fuck!” Dick screamed out in pain, collapsing to his knees and clutching his left thigh.

Jason heard you gasp behind him, and he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you to run with him to his car.

“You shot him,” you quietly whispered.

Jason was speeding away, the docks long behind him.

“He’s had a lot worse,” he grunted at you.

“You didn’t have to shoot him.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he snapped, “Would you rather he caught the both of us? Unveil your identity? Show him how you were with me all along?”

“We could have taken him down together,” you muttered.

Jason let out a bark of laughter.

“You’re fucking stupid if you think the both of us can take down Grayson with just hand-to-hand,” he sneered, “Even if we could, let’s waste time and wait for Batman to catch up, right? Was that what you wanted?”

You remained silent.

“Didn’t think so.”

Jason gripped the steering wheel tight while he drove to the rendezvous point, selected carefully based on the absence of cameras in the area.

“I need to get back quick before they do,” you spoke up, “With Dick injured, they’re probably rushing back as well.”

“How do you plan on sneaking back in?” Jason asked out of curiosity.

“I deactivated the motion sensors.”

Jason frowned. Interesting.

“And I rented a motorbike a while back specifically for this. I park it outside the gate, hide it in some bushes so I don’t need to make noise opening and closing the gates every time I go in or out,” you explained, “I either play music in my room or play recorded noises of me doing things.”

“You’ve truly mastered the art of sneaking out now,” Jason teased, a small hint of pride swelling in his chest.

He made a turn into the same alleyway as before and switched off his engine.

“I need to go,” you moved to leave.

Without thinking, as if on reflex, Jason reached out and grabbed you by the wrists. You looked at him in question, an eyebrow raised, waiting for him to say something.

Jason looked back at you, the nauseous feeling returning again.

“Nothing,” he let go of you, “Sorry.”

You hesitated, as if you wanted to say something. In the end you nodded stiffly and left.

Jason took off his helmet and let out the breath he didn’t realise he was holding. He leaned forward to rest his forehead on the steering wheel, coming to terms with the realisation that the nausea he felt was actually butterflies.

***

You tripped over your chair as you were climbing into your room from the window, causing some things on your desk to fall to the floor with a loud thud.

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself.

You hurriedly took off your shoes and changed into your pyjamas, kicking the backpack full of your gear under your bed to be hidden in your secret place later. You ruffled your hair and then looked into your mirror, realising that you hadn’t taken off your contact lenses yet.

You heard footsteps approaching.

“Fuck, fuck, ow!” you accidentally poked yourself in the eye.

The moment you put in the last contact lens in its case, you heard a knock on your door.

“It’s me.”

You took a deep breath to calm yourself down, then went to open the door.

“Yeah?”

Bruce looked at you with serious, tired eyes, still in his Batsuit sans the cowl.

“Dick got shot,” he stated.

“W-what?” you widened your eyes in shock, just as practiced. “Is he okay?”

You rushed out the room and hurried to the Manor’s infirmary where all of you went if there was a serious accident besides scrapes and cuts. Rushing out in panic would cover any body language that could reveal anything.

“He’s fine,” Bruce followed you from behind, “Lost a bit of blood, that’s all.”

You opened the doors to the infirmary to see Dick in a t-shirt and boxers on a bed, hooked to an IV bag. His left thigh was already bandaged. Alfred was adjusting the flow of the IV.

“Dick!” you rushed to his side, “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” he rolled his eyes, “I’ve had worse.”

“What happened?” you repeated, sitting on the side of the bed.

Dick exchanged a look with Bruce.

“We were patrolling near the docks, then we heard gunshots,” Dick explained, “Turns out it was… Red Hood.”

“He… shot you?” you whispered.

“Yeah,” he groaned, “I really didn’t think he would.”

“You have to stop thinking that this is the Jason you used to know,” you scolded, and then turned to Bruce with angry eyes, “Both of you. Don’t you think your judgement’s been clouded? That’s why it’s better if I’m with you. I never knew him, I’d be more objective and-”

“No,” Bruce said sternly, “End of discussion.”

You scowled. “What was he doing there anyway?”

Dick glanced at Bruce again.

“Weapons exchange,” Bruce answered, “He was hijacking a weapons exchange.”

If you weren’t there, you would have believed Bruce without a doubt. You clenched your jaw, making sure you don’t reveal anything.

“Why did he shoot at you?” you turned to Dick.

“He was probably being protective,” he said.

“Protective?”

“Yeah, the girl was there,” Dick recounted, “You should have seen him with her. It was like he was protecting her from me. His body language, stance and everything made it seem like she was precious cargo.”

You frowned.

“If I had to guess, she’s probably someone he cares about,” Dick smiled softly. “I’m sort of happy, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s… going through a lot,” Dick went on, “I’m glad there’s someone with him.”

Your mouth was dry. You turned and saw that Bruce was long gone.

“You don’t think she’s his prisoner or something?” you tried, “Maybe she’s being blackmailed or forced into staying with him.”

“No, I don’t think so,” he shook his head, “She looked like she was depending on him to protect her.”

Your left eye twitched in annoyance.

“Really,” you grit.

“Yeah, I mean,” Dick elaborated, “She looked scared. I guess I can’t blame her. It’s Batman.”

You remained silent to recollect your thoughts. Then-

“What are you going to do once you catch him?” you pursed your lips.

“Help him,” Dick replied like it was the most obvious thing.

“What if he doesn’t want help?” you pressed on, “Are you going to lock him away?”

“Only as a last resort,” Dick said, “But maybe being with family will make him see sense. Hopefully.”

“I guess you and Batman defy your own system too, huh?” you scoffed, standing up.

“What do you mean?”

“If Red Hood wasn’t Jason,” you argued, “If he was just some random guy who wanted to take matters in his own hands using violence and murder, you and Bruce would just lock him up either in Arkham or Blackgate depending on whether or not he pleads insanity. But because you know Jason personally…”

“You’re saying we should just lock him up instead of helping?” Dick asked perplexed.

“No, I’m just saying it’s kind of hypocritical that just because you know him, you’re giving him an out that you wouldn’t give anyone else,” you shrugged.

“We don’t just know him, he’s family,” Dick reminded you, “We don’t abandon family.”

You remained silent.

“Look,” Dick sighed and looked at you sympathetically, “I know what he did to you was wrong, and trust me, Bruce will make sure he atones for that. I’m not suggesting that he automatically come back and live here, especially because, well, you won’t be okay with it. Which is fine. You don’t have to put up with him. And we’re not making up excuses for him either. Like I said, Bruce was… very upset when he found out what happened to you. And that’s putting it lightly.”

You tried not to roll your eyes. You really didn’t care much about all of that. You had since then voluntarily asked him to do more to you than just suck hickies on your neck.

“But, this isn’t Jason,” Dick went on, “I mean, yes it is, but, he’s not rational. He’s angry and lashing out, and needs help. I’m not siding with him for what he did to you and we’re not dismissing it. I just wanted you to know that.”

“Yeah, I know,” you smiled, “Get some rest. Text me if you need anything.”

At least Jason’s sense of righteousness was simple and straightforward. You harmed innocents? You get his gun. There weren’t loopholes and justifications and complicated principles.

Plain and simple eye for an eye.

You turned to leave, unsatisfied with the lies and hypocrisy.

*** From the first crack of lightning you saw in the dark sky, you should have used it as a warning to stay home that Saturday night. But somehow you couldn’t help but go out to see Jason, knowing what he was planning to do.

You could have been in your bed, studying for your mocks with a mug of warm green tea in your hands and a plate of cookies on your desk, but instead, you were clutching the leather of Red Hood’s jacket, slippery and glistening from the downpour as he zoomed on his motorbike, you seated behind him.

Unlike the Robin uniform, though it wasn’t waterproof, the clothing you wore on nights with Jason was not state of the art. At least your Robin uniform didn’t get heavy when wet, and at least it wasn’t as absorbent. The rain made the zylon even heavier, making it difficult for you to move around.

The sound of rain pounding hard on your helmet was almost as loud as the wind. Jason didn’t care that the ground was slippery, he was still going recklessly as fast as he usually would.

He made a sharp turn into a lonely, dark road, with nothing but trees surrounding it. The road was going uphill, away from the city centre. You were approaching a mansion- modern style with glass walls.

Right before the trees cleared up, Red Hood swerved the bike into the bushes without warning, and then stopped once the both of you were deep enough within the cover of the trees. He cut off the engine, and you hurriedly climbed off.

Red Hood followed suit then, and you tried your best to not let your eyes linger on the way the water trickled down his chest, past the the red bat symbol, and down again, dipping into his-

“Fucking Gotham,” he grunted, voice crackling through the scrambler.

“At least you have a jacket,” you grit, teeth clenched as to not let them clatter.

He turned to look at you for a moment, and then started removing his leather jacket.

“N-no, it’s fine,” you refused, “It’s too big and it’ll be hard for me to move in. It’ll just be a hazard.”

Inside, your heart fluttered at the rare display of kindness.

“Whatever,” he shrugged it back on. “You remember the plan?”

“Plan?” you scoffed, “You mean sneak in, look for the master bedroom, then kill the Powers’?“

“You’re not going to stop me, are you?” he came closer to you, “If you’re going to mess it up, I’d rather tie you to the tree.”

“My, Red Hood,” you smirked, knowing that he couldn’t see it underneath your mask, “I didn’t know you were so kinky.”

“I’m serious,” he growled, “If you try to stop me, I will make you pay for it.”

“Whatever, let’s just get inside,” you turned away, “I’m fucking freezing.”

It would have been tough for anyone to sneak past all the security, cameras, bypassing alarm systems and into the mansion. But you and Red Hood weren’t just anyone. Both being trained by Batman, plus whatever it was that Jason gained over the years he wasn’t with Batman, it was only trickier than average.

Once you were in, you had to admit that you always thought the Powers’ had good taste. The interior was minimalistic, with furniture that were all neutral tones that went with the glass walls and with marble tops of exquisite design placement. You glanced at the exit to the backyard, which was a glass sliding door that spanned all the way from the ceiling to the floor.

It had only been one year since you were last there for their daughter’s birthday, ignorant of what was going on.

What the hell were you doing there?

“Split up,” Red Hood whispered from behind you, “Look for the master bedroom. Let me know when you find it.”

He gripped your hand and forced an earpiece in it.

Both you and Jason went up the marble staircase and stopped at the top. The hallway stretched from one end to the other, nothing in the way but a few potted plants.

He went right, and you took it as an instruction to go left.

Fuck, what were you doing? Were you going to stop him?

But the Powers’ deserved it. There was no other way, or else Bruce would have done something already.

Still, were you just going to stand by and watch while he murdered people?

You peeked into the first room, and saw that the bed with pink sheets was occupied by a small figure, wrapped in the covers like a cute little burrito.

Carrie Powers. Sleeping soundly while her parents were about to be killed.

Oh, God.

But how could they do this? Traffick other children when they had one of their own?

“Down the hall, first door on the left,” Jason’s hushed voice appeared in your ear.

Fuck, you had to stop him.

You closed the door quietly, and went to the room Jason had mentioned. It was opened by a crack, and you pushed it softly.

The view you saw made your heart skip a beat.

Red Hood had taken off his jacket and dumped it on the white setee in the middle of the very large master bedroom. He was standing by the super king sized bed, pointing an oddly shaped dagger at Maria Powers, who was fast asleep.

The power he so obviously exerted as he was standing over her, muscles taut with anticipation, contemplating which angle was best to slit her throat- it made your breath hitch.

“What do you think, V?” he said out loud, “How should I do it?”

His voice stirred the Powers awake, but before they could react, he grabbed Maria by the neck and lifted her so she sat upright, immediately pressing the knife against her cheek.

“Any of you scream, I’ll carve a smile into her face,” Red Hood threatened.

Joseph Powers, who finally snapped out of his groggy state, scrambled to his feet.

“W-what? Who are you?” he panicked, “What do you want?”

“No sudden movements,” Red Hood ordered, “I’m thinking whether or not I should make this quick and easy, or have some fun first.”

“We have money,” Joseph started, “Please. We’ll give you anything. Just don’t hurt us.”

“Oh, it’s not money I want,” Red Hood said cooly, “No. I want names.”

“What? What names?” Joseph asked, perplexed.

“Names of every politician, judge, CEO, or beat cop who is in on this little operation of yours.”

“I- I don’t understand,” the man stammered, “I think you’ve got it all wrong. We don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh?” Jason played along, “Maybe I’ll give you a little reminder.”

Red Hood snapped his head towards you, his red helmet glowing ominously in the dark.

“Bring the girl.” Despite being soaking wet in a weather that would usually make your bones clatter, hearing Red Hood say those words in a calm voice made a chill run down your spine for the first time that night

“No,” Maria whimpered, but silenced herself when her captor tightened his grip.

“What?” you gasped.

“The kid,” he growled, “Bring her here.”

“We’re not involving the kid,” you stood your ground.

“V,” he warned, “Don’t make me repeat myself. You better-”

“Mommy?” you heard a small squeak at the door and turned to see little Carrie, with her big chocolate eyes wearing her purple butterfly print pyjamas.

“Carrie, go back to your room,” Joseph ordered, “Please. She’s innocent.”

“And the kids you have kidnapped, shipped, and raped aren’t?” Red Hood fumed.

You saw the microsecond momentary realisation in both the Powers’ eyes, before they tried to cover it up again.

“Daddy? Mommy?” Carrie called in a shaky voice, “What’s going on?”

“Go back to your room, Carrie!”

“Carrie, do you want to help mommy?” Red Hood drawled.

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Come closer, Carrie,” Red Hood persuaded.

“Red Hood,” you protested.

“If you’re not going to help, then shut the fuck up,” he snarled.

Carrie entered the room but stood quietly behind you.

Her father looked at you with desperation in his eyes, “Please help us.”

“You’re filth to me,” you snapped at him, enjoying the way he cringed.

Joseph was usually a proud man, handsome for his age, with a fit body and perfect salt and pepper hair. The man you saw then was pathetic. DIsgusting,

Filth.

“But I won’t hurt your kid,” you added.

You expected to see relief printed on his face, and clenched your jaw when you didn’t.

“I can’t promise he wouldn’t, though,” you nodded at Red Hood, feeling like shit for using his daughter as leverage, “So you’d better give us names.”

Joseph looked like his brain was about to explode, his eyes quickly darting back and forth from his wife, to his kid, to you. He was running his hands through his hair in obvious distress.

“You don’t understand,” he admitted, “If we give you names, we’re as good as dead.”

“Joseph!” Maria yelled.

She was furious at him- and you thought at first it would be because he wouldn’t compromise to save her. After observing the way he took a small step back and the way she was holding him by the eyes, you realised that she was warning him not to confess.

She was obviously the one calling the shots.

“If you don’t give us names, you’re good as dead,” Red Hood told him, “Or would you rather me convince you in other ways?”

He nodded at Carrie. You felt a little protective of her, standing up straighter to defend her from Red Hood.

Joseph and Maria ignored the threat and was looking at each other intensely, trying their best to communicate without words.

Then, Joseph calmed down. He straightened up into the proud man you always saw him to be, a smirk playing on his arrogant features.

“I’m sorry, but this is business,” he sneered, “And we swore our clients’ secrecy.”

Red Hood paused.

Then-

“We’ll see about that.”

He grabbed a fistful of Maria’s cropped blond hair and pulled her to the dressing table. You heard that Carrie had started to sob behind you.

“Put your right hand flat on the table,” he demanded.

“Red Hood-” you tried.

“Now!” he barked.

She raised her shaking hand and rested it on the table hesitantly.

The first thing you heard was Maria’s cry- muffled by Red Hood’s large gloved hand- before you registered what had happened.

In an instant, Red Hood had cut off her pinky finger, and then raised the dagger, which you now saw had a blade that was wavy from the bottom to the tip, glistening a sticky, sickly dark red.

“Mommy!” Carrie screamed.

With all the commotion, you wondered why the security still hadn’t heard you yet. Then you realised that the glass walls were probably shatter and bullet proof, making it thick enough to be almost sound proof.

That shook Joseph slightly, his smirk had been wiped off clean and his forehead had beads of sweat.

“I can do this another nine times,” Red Hood snarled.

You had to stop this before it went too far. Slowly, you approached him.

“Red Hood,” you cautioned, “Let’s continue this another time, when the kid isn’t around.”

“Stay out of my way,” he turned to you.

“Let’s think rationally here,” you went closer, trying to speak over Maria’s wails, “There’s no way we have the time to torture for information when there’s a dozen armed men outside who might notice that something is off.”

“That’s why you’re here,” he scoffed, “So you can deal with them.”

“Do you really want to deal with them in front of the girl?” you tried again, “She’s five. She shouldn’t have to go through this.”

“They were going to wait a few years before selling her off anyway,” he seethed, “I’m doing her a favor.”

“No!” Joseph denied, “Not her. Never her.”

“How sweet.” Red Hood hissed sarcastically.

“Red Hood, come on,” you persuaded, “We can pick this up again another time.”

“And what?” he yelled, “Wait for them to run to the other side of the world? Where I have to hunt them down all over again? I do not have the time or the patience to- what the fuck did you just do?!”

Red Hood shouted at Joseph, who had moved quickly to the bedside table. His eyes widened in panic, and so did yours when you saw he had pressed a button on the underside of the table.

“Fuck!” Red Hood swore, “This is your fucking fault!”

He brandished the blade at you. “Fine,” he pulled Maria up again, “Looks like playtime’s over.”

Without warning, you saw him raise the dagger to Maria’s neck, and as if in slow motion, you just looked on by as he carved a big red smile across her throat.

The next thing you felt was a gush of warmth spray all over your face and torso. The blood that had gushed out of Maria was like a pulsating fountain of red.

“Maria!” Joseph screamed, “You fucking bastard!”

Red Hood leapt across the bed and pushed the man violently against the glass wall.

“Names!” he growled, taking Joseph’s head and thrusting it against the glass, leaving a smear of dark red.

Yet you were there, just frozen and blinking on the spot as you stared at Maria’s lifeless body on the grey carpeted floor, blood still splashing from her throat in the rhythm of her slowly dying heart.

Everything was red, and smelled like metal, and tasted like metal. Ew, did some get in your mouth? But you were wearing a mask. Why was there so much of it?

Did humans have this much blood in them? It seemed endless. Are we all just bags of blood in the end?

Carrie’s wails snapped you back to reality.

You rushed to her and kneeled down.

“Hey sweetheart, listen to me,” you tried to get through to her, “You have to go hide in that closet over there, okay?”

You picked her up. She was light, her body fragile and weak, and you opened the closet to reveal a walk-in.

You set her down on the floor and tried to comfort her again, “I want you to close your eyes, and close your ears, and then sing a song, okay? Don’t stop singing until the police comes. Can you do that?”

All she did was cry.

Fuck, she wasn’t going to listen to you.

So you just closed the closet door.

Red Hood was still smashing Joseph’s head against the wall. You noticed that he was now missing an ear.

Then you heard footsteps approaching you fast. Lots of them.

You took out your escrima sticks and got ready to fight a dozen armed men while Red Hood tortured Joseph Powers for information.

***

“Did you even get any names?” you monotoned.

The both of you were at the rendezvous, with Red Hood leaning against his beautiful black superbike and you standing awkwardly, holding your arms.

The smell and sight and taste of blood still consumed you. You hoped that the rain would have washed it away, but against all your luck, the moment you escaped the mansion, the rain had stopped.

Red Hood and you left behind a crying kid in the closet, a woman with a slashed throat in a pool of her own blood, a man beaten to death so bloody that he didn’t have any recognizable human features left, five unconscious and seventeen dead men in that house.

Red Hood simply looked away from you and took off his helmet and mask. He looked clean, because even in the midst of everything, he had managed to take his jacket from the settee.

“No?” you smirked, “So all of that for nothing?”

He gave you a glare, cold blue eyes piercing yours.

“Can I just ask you one thing?” you sighed, taking off your mask as well. It was soaked in blood.

“What?”

“Were you really going to hurt the kid?”

You saw his jaw clench.

“I don’t hurt innocents,” he looked away from you again.

You felt a wave of relief alongside your nausea, but however relieved you were, it still didn’t get the image of him slitting a woman’s throat out of your head.

If the circumstances were different, maybe you would have been turned on by that, as fucked up as it was. By the power he exhibited, the precision, the danger - you knew that you had a thing for that.

But he killed her in front of her own daughter, who shouldn’t have had to see that. Hell, who shouldn’t have had to be there in the first place.

It made you question him even more than before.

“Nope, you just traumatize them for the rest of their life,” you scoffed.

In a flash, his hands were around your throat.

“Don’t fucking talk to me that way,” he growled, “I haven’t forgotten how you fucked things up for me.”

“Fucked things up for you?” you repeated.

“You distracted me,” he told you, “And that prick went and sounded the alarm.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for trying to convince you not to murder a mother in front of her daughter!”

“Sweetheart,” he said in a low voice, “You’re playing with fire.”

Jason’s pupils had started to dilate, as if it was a black hole that was eating away at the blue. Your eyes fluttered towards his lips, which were slightly parted.

And then he smirked.

“I guess I have to punish you for disobeying me,” he drawled.

You gulped loudly, trying hard to not let the warmth in your stomach spark for the man in front of you.

“You know,” he whispered, his other hand snaking around your waist and pulling you flushed against his chest, “I’ve always imagined what you would look like covered in blood.”

Oh, fuck.

So did you. You had imagined what he looked like when he was beating a person half to death, how the muscles in his back would ripple with every blow.

You were so fucked up.

“And what do you think?” you bit your lip, squeezing your thighs together.

You were just upset at him a moment ago, and now you were turned on? You pieced together that you had a dangerous coping mechanism.

The fingers that were around your throat were caressing your cheek now, his thumb brushing against your lips.

“Better than I imagined,” he grinned, dipping down to kiss you.

He pushed his wet tongue into your mouth without hesitation, fucking it while he grabbed your ass and squeezed hard, almost painfully. He would bite and nip at your lips before licking them.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, “You taste like blood.”

You felt him grind on you, though you knew the hardness was from the protective cup he was wearing. You still couldn’t feel much either, due to the soaked body armor.

“Bend over the bike,” he commanded.

“Wait, what?” you gasped.

“You heard me.”

You felt the blood rush to your cheeks as you slowly approached the vehicle. When you were at its side, you glanced behind you. Jason had the most arrogant smirk ever while his arms were crossed.

After taking a deep breath, you tiptoed and winced in embarrassment when you positioned yourself bent over the seat, your ass jutting out.

Warm hands started rubbing your waist, going down to your ass and thighs.

“How do I take this off,” you heard him complain.

Your bottom was only latex tights.

When Jason finally figured it out, he pulled down hard, exposing your ass to the cool air.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his hand roaming to massage it.

“Jason, we’re in public,” you reminded him.

“So?” he responded, “It’s 2am, and it’s Gotham, baby. Public indecency is the least of everyone’s worries.”

You felt him shift behind you, and gasped when you felt a long, wet strip from your clitoris to your hole.

“Taste so good,” he groaned.

His tongue felt good.

He continued to tease you by licking your wet opening but never dipping inside, just making you wet with your own juices and his saliva. But suddenly you felt a sharp, piercing pain on your pussy flesh.

“Fuck!” you screamed and turned to look back at him grinning at you, “Did you just fucking bite me?”

“What did you think I was going to do when I said you needed punishment?”

“I don’t know, spank me or some shit?” you breathed, “Not fucking bite me!”

“Oh, but you would like to be spanked,” he told you, “And that wouldn’t be much of a punishment would it?”

He bit you again, but this time soothed the pain by licking you after.

Still, it didn’t stop the jolts of electricity that stung you every time he did.

“Fuck!” you gasped again, “Stop it- oh, fuck.”

He had slid a finger inside you- you noticed it was ungloved.

And then he started a barrage of confusing sensations, biting and nipping at your pussy to cause you pain, and then licking it away while pumping his finger inside of you to spark pleasure.

It didn’t take you long until you were moaning and panting and fucking sweating in the post-rain weather.

The warmth was building and building as he kept licking and biting and finger fucking you, twisting inside of you and touching your most pleasurable spots. You felt yourself start to tighten around his finger as the now familiar sensation of approaching orgasm started.

And then it was all gone.

Jason removed his finger and stopped licking. You turned around furiously to see him smirking at you with dark hooded eyes.

Oh, now you understood. The punishment wasn’t the biting at all.

He wouldn’t let you come.

You spent the next minute glaring angrily at him, refusing to say a word while he just stared back with intense eyes, breathing almost as heavily as you were.

And then he dove back in.

“Fucking hell,” you moaned as the pleasure built and built and built again.

And then stopped.

You wanted to fucking yell at him, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction.

He continued again, this time even harder with the licks and bites, harder with the way he fucked your cunt, even inserting a second finger that drew the most vulgar sound from your lips. You felt yourself building again, but when you expected him to stop, he didn’t.

This time, he kept you going higher and higher, your knees growing weaker, until you reached and were just dangling on the edge of-

And it was all gone.

“Jason!” you yelled, “Come the fuck on!”

You heard him chuckle behind you. And then you felt him grind against your ass, rough and heavy and desperate.

Probably because he was still wearing a protective cup, which meant that he wouldn’t be able to feel much. You wanted him to take his cock out already, so he could start fucking you senseless as you were bent over his bike.

But then, he stopped. And he pulled up your pants to cover you up, even giving you a small smack on the butt.

“What?” you straightened and turned around.

“What?” he pretended to be clueless, even though you saw the obvious lust that was etched on his handsome yet tired face.

“You- I- why don’t- fuck!” you stuttered, squeezing your thighs together. You were so wet that you felt yourself soaking through the tights despite it already being wet from the earlier rain.

“Oh, did you want to come?” he asked innocently, “Sorry, but girls who disobey my orders don’t get what they want.”

“You’re torturing yourself as well,” you grit, and to prove a point grabbed his crotch, earning yourself a hiss from him.

He grabbed your wrists to pull you closer, “We’re in public. Remember?”

Then he took a step back and gave you a shit eating grin.

“Whatever,” you sighed frustratedly, “I’m fucking covered in blood anyway. Fuck, I need to get PEP tomorrow. You should, too.”

“What?” he frowned.

“Post-exposure prophylaxis,” you explained, “We’re covered in blood, Jason, ever heard of HIV?”

He blinked once at you, and then broke into a fit of laughter.

“It’s not funny!” you defended, “It’s just for a just in case!”

“I’m pretty sure Maria fucking Powers does not have HIV,” he teased.

The mention of Maria brought the image to your mind again. The Jason in front of you had a twinkle in his eye, his expression soft after laughing at your logic. It was hard to imagine that under an hour ago, he had slit a woman’s throat.

In front of her own daughter.

Jason must have noticed your expression change, because he became serious again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, concern in his eyes as he held you by the waist.

Was he actually concerned? Or was he still playing mind games with you?

Why would anyone want a dirty whore like you?

And, there it was. Mother was back again.

“Nothing,” you looked away. “I just need to get all this blood off me.”

“We’re done here,” Jason informed you, “You can go back any time.”

“Well,” you started hesitantly, “I don’t think I can go back like this. All this blood- it’s too hard to cover up. My clothes, my shoes, everything is just covered in blood. Why is there so much fucking blood-”

“Hey, hey,” he stopped you, “Calm down. It’s fine. You can come back with me.”

“W-what?” you looked up at him. He seemed so genuine. Was it a trap?

He must have noticed as well, because his face immediately turned into a scowl, “I trust that you won’t tell Batman. After tonight, you’d be fucked along with me if it ever got to him. Take it or leave it, I’m not offering again.”

He let go of you and climbed on his bike, turning on the engine.

He looked back at you, who was still stunned on the spot.

“You coming or what?”

Oh, you were so fucked.

***

Your jaw dropped when you saw the interior of his safe house.

From the outside, it looked just like an abandoned shipment container amongst many other abandoned shipment containers in an abandoned shipping dock. You had expected it to be just a mattress, some pillows, with his weapons dumped messily on the floor.

No, his safe house looked like an actual safe house.

His bed was an actual Queen sized bed with matching bed sheets and pillowcases. His weapons were arranged in a glass cabinet display neatly against the freshly painted cream colored walls- the walls weren’t even the tin walls of the shipment container. He must have added another layer of plywood, with some sort of insulator in between which kept the room warm.

You noticed a beautiful katana resting on its stand. He had a wooden dining table with a fucking oriental tea set on it.

“The shower’s through there,” he pointed at the far corner of the room, which was separated by a wall. “Take off your clothes and just dump it in front of the washing machine.”

A fucking washing machine.

You nodded silently and followed his directions, turning into the corner. His bathroom was simple, yet still elegantly placed with tile flooring.

He had the time to put fucking tiles in his fucking toilet.

The white porcelain of his toilet and sink shined brightly in the warm lights of the bathroom. Next to the toilet was the shower, the segment separated by a curtain. The only thing that was out of placed in his entire makeshift home was the mirror over the sink.

It was cracked. You only saw glimpses of yourself in the pieces that were big enough to catch your reflection- a pair of tired eyes and skin that was covered in dried blood that had long ago oxidized and turned dark brown.

You stripped off your clothes, struggling to peel them off your skin, and then dumped them on the floor in front of the washing machine and stepped into the shower.

You turned it on.

The bastard even had hot running water.

You moaned at the relief and looked down on the floor, watching as the water turned brown, washing away the blood and sweat and filth on your skin. You reached for his shampoo and couldn’t help but giggle at his choice.

It was pomegranate scented with red packaging and labelled Long Term Relationship.

Well, it smelled divine. He had great taste in scents.

Look at you. So desperate to smell like him. Pathetic.

“Him and hundreds of other women, probably,” you muttered.

Once you were done, you stepped on the floor mat and saw a neatly folded towel and clothes on top of the toilet seat. You dried yourself off and put on his t-shirt.

It was too big on you, the sleeves went down to your elbows and the hem went down to your mid-thighs. You saw that he also set aside a pair of shorts, but there was no way you were going to be able to wear that without them sliding down.

You breathed in.

The combination of the shampoo, and the smell of his t-shirt made you smile. It was familiar, but you never really noticed it besides the fabric softener.

Yet, it was unmistakably him. Now all you needed to do was rub gun-powder all over yourself and voila.

You stepped outside to see he had shrugged off his jacket, and was sitting at the dining table, wiping his helmet down with hand sanitizer.

“Shower’s free,” you approached him, passing him your wet towel and his shorts, “Thanks for the shirt, but the shorts are too big.”

His jaw clenched when he looked up at you. You saw the way his eyes darted from your own and down to your body.

He snatched the items from your hand and got up. “Don’t touch anything.”

You heard the shower turn on.

And then you were alone, standing awkwardly in the middle of his safe house.

Everything seemed so normal.

There weren’t many personal things lying around aside from clothes and a few books that he had arranged on a bookshelf, but it didn’t scream ‘Go away’ or ‘Psychopath’. It was simple, homey, warm.

Until you noticed a pinboard that hung in front of his bed.

The nearer you got, you saw familiar faces. Mainly yours.

A blurred photo of you as Robin with Batman. A few articles regarding Batman handing Joker over to the authorities, a couple about Bruce Wayne adopting you following your parents’ deaths, and photocopied police statements about the investigation of your parents.

You frowned.

You knew he had done extensive research on you, you knew that he had shimmied his way into your life and manipulated you for his gain, you knew all that. But seeing everything out in the open made your heart ache.

A whole portion of the board had many of your pictures on it, as well. Stalker photos, as you liked to call it. Zoomed in from far away, candid shots of you in your uniform, swimming, smiling and waving at your classmates, walking in the mall, studying in the library.

“Like my photography skills?”

You jumped at his voice. He was so silent whenever he approached you. You should have noticed that much earlier on.

“You’re a fucking psychopath,” you shook your head, still looking at the photos, “But I have to say, I didn’t know I looked this good in my uniform.”

“Oh, baby girl, if only you knew,” he chuckled.

“Please, I-”

You finally turned and choked on whatever words you were going to say.

Jason was standing at the foot of his bed behind you with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair wet and dripping droplets of water down onto his bare chest, his arms crossed and accentuating even more the size of his biceps. He looked so clean.

So normal.

Well, his hotness was hardly normal, but he didn’t seem like some trigger happy crime lord.

He raised a knowing eyebrow at your expression. You didn’t realise your mouth was open.

“I should burn this fucking place down for what you did to my library,” you shot at him.

“It’s been months, get over it,” he rolled his eyes, and sat on the bed, back resting against propped pillows.

“Aren’t you going to get dressed?”

“Why would I? I’m in my own bed.”

You gulped.

“Bruce- Dick- Everyone-” you stammered, “They’ve probably figured out that I’m not in my room. It’s three thirty in the morning and the music is still playing loudly in my room, I mean, someone has probably knocked and didn’t get an answer so-”

“Your clothes will only be ready in two hours,” Jason interrupted you, “Or would you rather go back home in just my shirt with no bra and panties?”

“I can actually think of an excuse if I did,” you chuckled nervously, “Dick thinks I’ve been sleeping with a guy named Carter.”

“Who’s Carter?” Jason demanded, his expression changing into one that was furious.

“No one,” you quickly explained, “He saw your stupid texts, so I told him your name was Carter and that we were going out.”

He relaxed at your explanation.

Wait a minute.

Was he jealous?

You smiled to yourself, entertaining the possibility.

“And I do actually have a change of clothes in my backpack,” you said, “Which is in your bike.”

“You’re not leaving me with the laundry, princess,” he scoffed, “Stay. Once your clothes are done I’ll even fold them for you.”

“How hospitable,” you snickered.

You stood there awkwardly again, not knowing where you’d be welcomed.

“The bed won’t slit your throat, you know,” he teased, “You can lie down and sleep until you need to go.”

You pursed your lips and played with the edges of the shirt. You knew what was going to happen in that bed.

You went to the opposite side of bed and sat down nervously. You put your feet up and stretched it, just like Jason’s .

The bed was comfy, the pillows fluffy and warm. You could finally feel yourself relaxing into it-

Jason grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him, your back flushed against his front. And finally, finally you could feel the hardness of his cock pressed against your ass.

“I’ve been hard ever since you came out of the shower,” he breathed into your ear, grinding against you.

You wanted to moan at the feeling of his heavy length on you, you wanted to grind back onto him and turn him on even more, but mother started screaming.

ARE YOU A LADY OR A WHORE?

“Shut up,” you muttered.

“What?” Jason asked.

“Nothing,” you turned to him. “Kiss me.”

He granted your request and gave you a searing kiss.

Rolling in bed with a dirty criminal.

“Shut up!” you screamed.

“What the fuck?” Jason yelled, “I didn’t say anything!” “No,” you shook your head, “Sorry. Not you. I wasn’t talking to you.”

He looked at you suspiciously.

“I- I hear my mother sometimes,” you admitted.

You waited for him to call you crazy, but he never did. Instead, he looked at you seriously.

“Tell me more.”

“Not physically,” you started, “But I imagine what she would have said to me if she were watching me- which is why I never kissed a boy before this. Or masturbated. She stops me from doing anything filthy.”

“Filthy?”

“By her standards,” you elaborated, “Filthy or vulgar or inappropriate, she controls my actions.”

“How long,” he asked.

“Ever since they died,” you sighed.

“But you were fine all those other times,” he inquired, “Why now?”

“It gradually became less and less frequent,” you explained, “Like, when we did those things through video call, I felt comfortable and it just- it felt right. And it stopped completely during my first time with you.”

“So you saying it doesn’t feel right, right now?” he clenched his jaw.

“It’s not you!” you added quickly, “It’s me. No matter how much I want to, I just can’t help it. She’s there.”

“Look, I get it,” he sighed, leaning onto the propped pillows, “Fuck, I get it.”

“You do?” you looked at him with hopeful eyes.

“What? You think getting beaten to a pulp with a crowbar, getting exploded, and having to crawl out of your own grave wouldn’t fuck you up?” he growled, “You’re not special. Get over it.”

Even though he said it in a way that was harsh and definitely not conventional, he basically told you what you needed to hear- that you weren’t the only one that was fucked up, and if there was any comfort at all, it’d be the fact that you were fucked up together.

You smiled when you saw him, his arms crossed, eyebrows stitched together in a frown, his lower lip jutting out in a pout.

“Well, I really wanted to,” you paused, “You know.” Jason looked over to you then. “You said she screams in your ear, right?”

“Yeah?”

He smirked, then came closer to you again, caressing your cheek and tucking a wet strand of hair behind your ear, where he leaned in to whisper.

“Then that just means we need to be louder.”

He gripped your thigh and forced your legs open, cupping your sex with his hands.

He’s defiling you.

“I hated you,” he slipped a finger between your folds and gently ran it up and down, gathering your slick, “But now I just can’t seem to keep on hating you anymore.”

Your heart fluttered at his confession.

He teased your clit, giving only light brushes on it, barely even touching you.

But everyone else will hate you.

“Talk to me, baby,” he instructed, “Tell me you don’t hate me anymore.”

“I-” you panted, “I don’t hate you anymore.”

A filthy man for a filthy girl.

“Mmm, good girl,” he purred, now adding pressure to your clit, making you squirm.

The praise did wonders to you. You felt your cheeks heating up, your heartbeat going faster and faster.

I raised you to act like a lady, not like a bitch in heat.

His other hand slipped underneath the shirt, trailing up from your waist to cup your breast and gave it a squeeze.

You moaned out loud when he started pinching them.

Vulgar sounds will only get you dirty men.

“You’re so fucking sexy, you know that,” he rasped against your skin, hot breath sending goosebumps all over. “I want you to moan for me, beg for me, scream for me.”

“Jason,” you sighed.

He started properly rubbing on your clit now, sending tingles right to your toes. “Fuck, baby. You’re so wet. It makes your pussy look so fucking pretty,” he praised.

At least prostitutes get money when they sleep with other men, and you’re doing this for free.

It was so confusing. On one hand, you had your mother’s voice ringing in your head. On the other, Jason’s dirty, sexy mouth made you think you could actually die from sheer horniness.

He finally slipped a finger inside of you, eliciting a long moan.

You’re going to be loose before you hit-

“Mmm, you like that, baby?” he husked, “You always like it when I put my finger in, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasped.

No one will want you after-

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded.

Ruined goods-

“Please,” you whined as you spread your legs further apart.

YOU BELONG IN THE-

“Please what, sweetheart?” he teased.

You could only mewl.

LISTEN HERE-

“Please stop?” he added a second finger, and started pumping in and out excruciatingly slow.

STOP IT-

“Please make me come?” he increased his pace.

HORRIBLE-

“Or just… please? .”

He suddenly switched into a brutally fast pace, causing you to scream.

“Jason! Fuck, Jason please just put your cock inside of me and make me come, fuck!” you begged.

He stopped finger fucking you and chuckled out loud. He was hovering over you, his towel long gone, aligning the tip of his dick at the entrance of your cunt.

“That’s my girl,” he grinned, and then pushed inside in a swift motion.

“Fuck!” you cried.

“So fucking wet for me,” he panted, pounding into you. “So tight.”

“Jason,” you could only say.

He dipped down to push his tongue into your mouth, fucking your mouth the same rhythm he was fucking your pussy. You were in a state of desperation and euphoria, hazy to reality.

The only thing you were hearing at that moment was the wet sound of flesh on flesh and Jason’s loud grunts into your mouth.

The combination of his cock repeatedly pressing onto the spot within you and his tongue in your mouth made your pussy tighten in no time, closer and closer to orgasm.

“You wanna come, baby girl?” he whispered against your lips.

You nodded hysterically.

“Come for me then, come all over my cock,” he commanded, fucking you faster.

The tight coil in your core exploded, and you felt yourself pulsating all over his length which was still moving.

Jason didn’t give you time to rest.

“Get up on your knees and face the wall,” he growled.

You immediately obeyed, afraid that he would start biting you again if you didn’t. Jason pushed aside his pillows and you placed your hands on the headboard.

He took off the oversized shirt and his hands started roaming your body from behind, squeezing your breasts, running them up and down your thighs, all the while he was kissing your back.

He pushed his cock inside you again without warning, and in the post-orgasm sensitivity, you accidentally gave out and collapsed backwards against him.

“Woah there, baby,” he laughed, gripping you tightly by the waist to stabilize you. “I want to make you come again.”

“Please,” you rasped.

“Yeah?” he started moving slowly behind you, “You want to come again, baby?”

You nodded weakly.

“Tell me, baby girl,” he nipped your earlobe, “Tell me.”

“I want you to make me come again.”

“What a fucking good girl,” he licked your ear.

You could only whimper in response.

He hammered his hips into you hard and fast, all the while gripping your tits with one hand and your waist with other, fucking himself up into you.

And because you were so sensitive from the first orgasm, the fact that he was fucking you again soon after meant that you were already fast approaching your second one.

“Hold out for me just a bit more, sweetheart,” he breathed in your neck, “Please?”

That ‘please’ sort of made your heart melt.

“Anything, Jason,” you replied, trying your best to maintain a level head while he fucked you.

“Ah. fuck, baby,” he stuttered, his hips stuttered, his pace stuttered. “Okay, come with me. Come with me, fuck, fuck.”

The heat you felt before started spreading again, and this time you allowed it and let go. You reached behind you to hold Jason’s head, running your hands in his hair and gripped on it tightly for leverage as you came loud and long.

He withdrew from you so fast that it almost hurt, but then you felt warm splashes on your lower back, dripping down to the globes of your ass and to your thighs.

Your whole body gave out, and you fell down on your front, crashing into the soft bed.

You heard Jason chuckle, and then felt him get up. He returned with his towel and wiped your back, and then joined you on the bed next to you.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Better than okay,” you smiled.

“Mother quiet?” he frowned.

“Surprisingly so,” you yawned.

“Good,” he nodded.

The two of you just stared at each other, and soon enough you got lost in his face. His tired eyes, his crooked nose, his scarred skin. He gave you an odd expression. It wasn’t anger, or hate- hell he was hardly frowning.

He just looked… content.

You guess killing someone would take the energy out of you.

***

When Jason stirred awake, the first thing he felt was the warm body next to him.

For the first time in his entire life, he didn’t wake up alone.

He blinked his eyes open, and nearly laughed out loud when he saw your face next to him. You weren’t a graceful sleeper. Your hair was messy, your mouth hanging open with a little drool on dribbling at the corner.

Yet, he couldn’t help thinking about how absolutely gorgeous you looked.

He felt his chest tighten.

He shifted to the side to look at the clock on his bedside table. It was already 6am. Your clothes were long dry already in the dryer.

“Mmm,” he heard your voice, probably waking up because of his movements.

He turned back to you and saw that you were indeed already awake, facing tummy down with his blanket covering you up to your waist so he had a view of your beautiful, smooth back.

“What time is it,” you asked, voice still heavy with sleep.

“Six,” he answered, “Your clothes are probably dry.”

“Fuck,” you swore. He loved it when you swore. “I’m going to get into so much trouble.”

“You’re a teenager with a so-called boyfriend,” he snorted, “Make something up.”

“That’s the plan,” you grinned.

You pulled the covers up to your chest and laid on your back.

“I should go,” you sighed sadly, and then sat up.

“Wait,” he grabbed your arm.

Fuck, what was he doing?

“Don’t go,” he whispered, “Stay.”

“I guess I’m already fucked anyways, right?” you smirked.

“No, I meant-” Jason paused, his words catching in his throat. “Stay with me forever. Leave them.”

He saw the many phases of your thoughts written clearly on your face. You blinked with realisation, stopped yourself from smiling, but finally settled with a deep troubled frown.

Fuck.

“I can’t,” you croaked, “I’m sorry, Jason. I can’t do that.”

He felt like taking the keris and ripping out his heart.

“Fine,” he clipped, “Whatever. You want me to send you back, or what?”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll find my way back,” you got up and walked to the dryer to change into your gear. Jason reached for the shorts that you didn’t wear.

He walked you to the door silently, awkwardly. He had given you your backpack from the compartment in his motorbike.

“Jason,” you suddenly turned to him, the frown still evidently clear, “I can’t do this anymore.”

“What?” he grit, his heart dropping to his stomach.

“This thing with you,” you explained, “I can’t see you again. The next time I see you, I’ll be on Batman’s side.”

He felt like someone was throttling him, squeezing every ounce of sanity he had left out. He felt his nails digging into his palms, fists closed, still refraining from doing something he knew he would regret.

“I’m sorry, Jason,” you said, “I won’t tell them about you. If they find you, it will be completely because of them, not me. Okay?”

He didn’t want to look at you. He didn’t want you to see through him.

“Just go,” he managed to choke.

You pursed your lips and then nodded, turning away from him.

He slammed the door shut, and then rushed to his room.

“FUCK!” he roared, grabbing the bed and flipping it over.

“FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!”

He went to the dining table and swiped the tea set off, hearing it crash into tiny pieces on his floor before proceeding to flip over the table as well.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH!” he cried, aware that his cheeks were wet with his tears.

He couldn’t breathe.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He crumpled to the floor and picked up a broken piece of china, closing his fists around it and feeling the stinging pain as it cut into his flesh.

He was losing his mind.

He didn’t know what was up, or down, or what was real or wasn’t.

He wanted it to be all just a long, shitty fucking dream.

He wanted to just wake up back in his room in the Manor, fifteen years old, with the sound of Alfred knocking on his door, asking if he was alright.

It was a different kind of pain that he felt as compared to the one Joker had inflicted on him. It was the same hurt, the same stabbing feeling in his chest when he found out that Bruce had replaced him with you.

The same feeling when he found his mother on the floor with foam in her mouth.

In the midst of pulling his hair, and contemplating on whether he should really use the keris to carve his heart out or slit his own throat, he eventually calmed down after an hour of broken sobs and choking on air.

He sat there on his floor, the blood on his hands now sticky and brown, listening to the deafening silence of his room.

He was alone again.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #red who #jason todd reader imagine #under the red hood #red hood and the outlaws #batman #dc #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #nightwing

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acaseforpencils · 5 years

Text

David Ostow.

Bio: I'm a cartoonist and stay-at-home dad, not necessarily in that order. I came late to cartooning, because I thought I wanted to be an architect. In grad school, my professors were always hung up on the fact that I was more interested in drawing pretty pictures than in designing interesting spaces. Anyway, they graduated me, and should really answer for the disservice they did to the design industry.

Find this print here!

I came to cartooning by way of illustrating some books for my sister who's an author. To date, my work has also appeared in and on a combination of print publications and websites, including The New Yorker, Mcsweeney's Internet Tendency, The American Bystander, Buzzfeed, and The Weekly Humorist. My work and I were also featured in a New York Times piece about artists addressing gentrification in their work. I don't know if that counts. Does that count?

I live in New York City with my son and my wife, whose support is the reason I'm not drawing on grocery bags in my parents' basement, and raking their yard for allowance.

Tools of choice: Where to begin? I got an iPad Pro earlier this year, and I've been using it pretty exclusively since. But finding and experimenting with tools has been an odyssey unto itself for me, and I'd be remiss not to give a bit of history.

I started out employing a lot of the tools that I learned about in the architecture world. I went to UVA, and when I was there my sketching professor [fun fact: he was also the mayor!*] encouraged us to draw with Micron pens using a very loose hand. Check out the sketches of Michael Graves, and you'll see what we were emulating. My hand was naturally pretty shaky. Years of drawing have rendered it less so, but at the time, my peers teased me (in good fun) for being a teacher's pet with my wobbly broken lines. That introduction to sketching was definitely formative to the style I would eventually develop for cartooning. Sometimes I find myself trying to force my hand to be as wobbly as it used to be.

Architecture school was also where I first began using Photoshop as a diagramming tool, and I became more facile with it when I moved into the professional world, where it's a common tool for rendering presentation drawings. Since then, Photoshop has been my go-to for applying washes and colors to my drawings, although now that I have an iPad and I'm experimenting with Procreate, the Photoshop era may be coming to a close.

After taking a class on comics creation at The New School in Manhattan, I got up the nerve to add some ink and brushes into my toolkit, and while it was an adjustment, it was also fun to have a brand new way of making varied and expressive lines. At the height of my "pre-digital" period, I was using a combination of ink and technical pens. The accompanying photo shows my spread in more detail. All the tools pictured are easy to find, and easy to use, and I recommend them for anyone looking to take a stab at drawing cartoons or comics.

From there, I waded slowly and awkwardly into the world of digital drawing. I had a hybrid moment when I was roughing my drawings in pencil, scanning them, using a Wacom tablet to ink in a program called Clip Studio, and then adding colors / washes in Photoshop. It was an incredible time suck, but, for what it's worth, the cartoons I produced that way were some of the first I sold to The New Yorker. So there's that.

Since getting my iPad I've been drawing with Procreate, which seems to be the preferred drawing application among my iPad savvy colleagues, and which I enjoy, but I feel like I'm still getting comfortable with it. When it comes to new technology, I have a habit of doing the bare minimum to educate myself, and every time I need clarity on a finer point I'll do a tad more research. It's called the "Dave Ostow Kicking and Screaming Method" and I recommend it to no one.

Tool I wish I could use better: I've never had any formal fine arts training, so I lack the kind of mastery of many traditional tools that some of my peers have attained as a matter of course. One time I tried to use a dip pen, and was so overwhelmed by how hard it was to draw a single line that I put it in my drawer and just kind of forgot about it.

I also used to own a set of Koh-i-noor Rapidograph pens, which make amazing lines, but require saintlike patience to maintain. The nibs are super delicate and If you're not careful, they'll break and leak (or — worse — explode) all over your drawing.

In an ideal world, I would have the patience and time to master some of these more traditional and delicate tools, and I think I'd be a better artist for it. Maybe some day, but right now my schedule doesn't allow for much extracurricular activity.

Tool I wish existed: Kind of a no-brainer: an iPad / digital tablet that felt almost indistinguishable from real pen and paper. Think the Beyond Meat burger of digital drawing tools.

The iPad is great, and of course it's wonderful to have digital editing capabilities, but there's simply no hiding the fact that you're drawing on a screen that lacks the kind of tooth you'd get from dragging a pen across paper. Also, when I zoom in to do detail work, I'm always thrown by the pixelation.

I'm sure the more I use the iPad, the better I'll get at tweaking the settings to my liking. Like I said, when change is involved, I sometimes drag my feet. But that's okay. As a good friend who's also really my therapist said, "Maybe that's just the way you work."

Tricks: Not a trick so much as a suggestion: If you're drawing on an iPad or some other sort of tablet, get a matte protective cover. It will reduce glare, and soften the feel of the screen against your stylus, so you get an experience more like drawing on paper, albeit only slightly so.

Misc: Yes, that is a Dan Smith Will Teach You Guitar flyer on my bulletin board. I found it on the subway and it just seemed like a fun authentic New York artifact that was calling to be preserved. I look at it every now and again, and find it oddly inspiring. That picture of Dan Smith has been circulating around the city for God knows how many decades. What does Dan Smith look like today and would he still teach me guitar?

Website, etc.

Website

Instagram

New Yorker Link

Conde Nast Store

*Editor’s note: I went to Charlottesville High School with Mayor Cox’s son! I also went to UVA, though not at the same time as David. Small world!

Also, I happily do this blog for free, though there are a lot of hidden expenses that I take care of myself. If you enjoy this blog, and would like to help defray labor and maintenance costs, there is a Patreon! Or if you’d prefer to buy me a cup of coffee, there is a Ko-Fi account as well (which is essentially a PayPal donation)! Your support means a lot, and I'm grateful to everyone who has donated!

You can also find more posts about art supplies on Case’s Instagram and Twitter! Thank you!

#David ostow #how to draw New Yorker cartoons #cartoons #how to draw cartoons #art supplies #artists on tumblr #art process

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fearofaherobrine · 7 years

Text

Roleplay Server Log #272

“Cp vs Karla, Zly Memories. Rock Candy, Ohana and Hg”

[TLOT] Settles on the floor and looks for Cp mentally-

[CP] Feels the brush against his own mind and tries to throw up some barriers-

[TLOT] Speaks to him directly - why so tense?

[CP] - Where did she go?

[TLOT] She stepped out for a moment to deliver something irl. She'll be back shortly.

[CP] - If it were just a delivery, she'd be back by now...

[TLOT] She might have stopped to chat, they are friends of a sort.

[CP] Frowns- Who did she go to?

[TLOT] She's gone to see Ever.

[CP] Brief flashes of what happened last time she was over there as he franticly creates an opening-

[Karla] Has gone back to her sewing

[Ever] Went to the kitchen to make tea and happens to be walking through the central room where the tree is-

[CP] Comes out of the computer rather quickly-

[Ever] Makes a strangled squeak-

[CP] Scowls at him- Where is my mate?

[Ever] Terrified- In the bathroom!

[CP] Goes down the hallway, looking for the bathroom-

[Karla] hears his heavy footsteps and opens the study door to look-

[CP] Small growl at Karla-

[Karla] Ah, it's you again. Hello tall dark and murderous.

[CP] - Go fuck yourself

[Karla] Leans on the doorway languidly- Ah, but it's much more fun with friends.

[CP] - I don't need you doing anything

[Karla] Are you sure? I think we could have an interesting discussion at least. - she looks him slowly up and down- I know another dom when I see one.

[CP] Eyes narrow at Karla- I'm going to go get my wife

[Karla] I see... So driven, and a little insecure? Not sure how to take a compliment either? You're a very interesting man Mr. Herobrine.

[CP] - She's one of the only things I have

[Karla] Ahhh... another lonely soul. Sometimes it's enough to have just one, who understands, isn't it?

[CP] His expression softens a little- Yeah... Now if I could just get sex back on the fucking table

[Karla] How can it be off? I can see what she likes, and it's just as obvious that you're capable of giving it to her.

[CP] - Don't know, but she's being more stubborn than usual and griefing far more than usual

[Karla] Sounds a bit... hormonal. What's been going on with her lately? Midlife crisis perhaps?

[CP] - Ovaries reforming, being deleted, me just getting into general shit again...

[Karla] She's fertile then... even in a digital existence? How curious... - Her eyes narrow- If you ever need anything smaller... deleted, I have experience in that area. As for you, I can see your journey to this point has been long and painful. You fear losing her, it's plain in everything from your posture to the lines under your eyes.

[CP] - Yeah well Doc can do the same shit too. And she was originally human plus we have physical forms...

[Karla] Her expression is wry- Always good to have experienced doctors around... Just offering.

[CP] - Whatever, I usually find your type more annoying then anything else

[Karla] Doctors? Or Doms? Or maybe just strong women in general?

[CP] Scowls and starts moving on to find his wife-

[Karla] Gets in his way for a moment, she lets her breath fall on the bit of skin showing in the triangle of his shirt and takes a deep draught of his scent before gliding out of reach again-

[CP] Quickly moves away from her, unsure about what she had just done-

[Karla] If it weren't for the eyes... I might not know the difference... but I can tell when you're close. You smell like a man, but the illusion fails at the finger-width. I smell hell on your skin and clothes. You are fire.

[CP] - I'm a fire based brine, just as Lie is more nature like, besides, the eyes can be hidden

[Karla] And what base is your 'doctor' friend I've heard so many interesting things about?

[CP] - Lightning

[Karla] Rather creepy smile - and are they as handsome as you?

[CP] - Fuck no, crazy ass bastard of a bitch

[Karla] Laughs despite herself and then gives him a knowing look - Not good with admitting you have friends either... who hurt you so badly Cp?

[CP] - None of your business- There are brief flickers mentally

[Karla] Catches the flashes but doesn't get all the details - Father troubles... it's always hardest when the ones we put our trust in... can't be trusted.

[CP] - It was an imposter, and they turned my brother against me as well

[Karla] A pity, but I suspect you would not be standing before me now if it hadn't happened. We play with the hand we've been given in life. - she turns sideways and the thin cloth of her shirt shifts to show more of the sun-shaped scar that's covering the heart side of her chest.

[CP] - That we do, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to fight it with every fiber of my being

[Karla] I like your spirit. I even think we could be friends, perhaps. I suspect we have more in common then you realize. - there's the faintest sound of leather as she streches her fingers.

[CP] Scoffs- I have no interest in that

[Karla] I wasn't suggesting anything sexual... - She waves a hand in front of his face and there's the faintest smell of blood - I promised to be good. It doesn't mean I always wanted it to be that way.

[CP] Scowls and begins walking again-

[Lie] Has fallen asleep in the tub-

[CP] Finds the bathroom and opens the door. His expressions soften again when he see's his wife sleeping- Well, I suppose everything she did today would be exhausting for her...- He moves, grabbing a couple towel and blatantly ignoring the sex toys in the cupboard before waking Lie up

[Lie] Makes little noises as she wakes- CP?

[CP] - Come on, time to get dry- He offers the towel and watches as Lie sleepily dries herself off

[Lie] - Guess I didn't realize how tired I was...

[CP] - It's understandable, you had a lot of adrenaline going through you today

[Lie] Reaches for the robe-

[CP] - Why are you grabbing that?

[Lie] - Ever said I could borrow it

[CP] - Lie... You can turn into a cat...

[Lie] - ...

[CP] - You forgot, didn't you?

[CP] After a few moments he's coming back down the hallway with Lie curled up in his arms in her feline form and her clothes in his inventory-

[Karla] Is leaning on the wall watching him and cocks her head curiously -

[CP] - She has a feline form as well

[Karla] She's quite lovely like that. A blue ribbon feline to be sure.

[CP] - Yeah yeah, so everyone says

[Lie] Stretches her leg out to pat CP's arm to tell him to settle down-

[Ever] Comes out of a room at the other end of the hallway and lets out an audible - AWWWWW

[Karla] Chuckles

[CP] - We'll be going then

[Karla] With my blessings then. I hope she had a nice bath, she was in there for quite some time.

[Ever] Lets out a small laugh, his cheeks pink.

[CP] - She fell asleep

[Ever] Suuuure.

[Karla] Puts a finger in the silver ring on the front of Ever's collar - now, now. There's no accounting for taste, really.

[CP] - She's not used to all the fighting she did today, it wore her out

[Ever] Looks crestfallen and a bit embarassed - Sorry about that...

[CP] - I'm just mad I couldn't get to her before she got all the blood washed off of her...

[Lie] Her ears flatten a little-

[Ever] Well it was zombie blood after all. That stuff has to be pretty gooey and rank...

[CP] - I would have tossed her in the lava

[Lie] Tail swishes a bit angrily-

[Ever] That's harsh.

[Karla] She looks a bit annoyed....

[Lie] - I am

[Karla] Perhaps you should take your lovely wife home before any further... difficulties happen.

[CP] - I'm going, I'm going

[Lie] Purrs a little-

[CP] Makes an opening and goes through back to the server-

[Lazur] - humming happily, glad to have her voice back, goes in search of Zly. She hears a guitar being played softly. The melody is slow and rich, and achingly sad. Despite this she smiles and follows the sound.

[Zly Wilk] Sitting on a tree stump, playing the slightly beat up guitar he keeps in his inventory

[Lazur] approaches from behind and leans down - hey. - she says softly behind him, making the brine jump and stop the melody with an abrupt crash of notes.

[Zly Wilk] -Oh! Hey... You got your voice back! Did you figure it out on your own or....

[Lazur] - looks slightly embarrassed - No.... I.... Took your advice and got some help from the Doctor.

[Zly Wilk] That's wonderful... Say, I'm wondering if there is anything we can do to help our new friends... We've been on the other side of deletions before.

[Lazur] I don't know, Zly... I'm not too sure i want these folks knowing what we did before. They're pretty accepting, but we have a lot to atone for.

[Alexsezia] Was hunting and hears them talking. She sneaks close and listens from a hidden vantage point-

[Zly Wilk] - nods - There was a time we were no better than those older generation NOTCHs... How ironic we would become glitches ourselves... Almost as if we were being punished for our sins.

[CP] Comes out of the portal not to far from where Zly and the others are, thinking he and Lie would be alone that far out-

[Alexsezia] Her face crinkles with worry and she feels a little stab of sadness for the way she used to think of glitches herself.

[Zly Wilk] - frowns down at the old guitar and sighs - I still see it in my dreams you know... I thought i could save him. He looked up to us, and I let him down.

[Lazur] - puts a hand on his shoulder - That was NOT your fault. Eset was always too rash. He shouldn't have gone up against something so powerful. And in the end we beat it.

[Zly Wilk] -scowls- Yes, but at what cost? I lost a bit of myself there... When We pulled that thing apart pixel by pixel... I almost enjoyed making it suffer.

[Lie] She perks her ears a little, hearing faint voices- CP... That way...

[Alexsezia] Draws a quick breath in shock-

[Lazur] - bitterly - maybe that isn't such a bad thing. After how many systems it corrupted, the lives it took... The friends WE lost... Why not get some satisfaction from the kill?

[CP] Approaches silently-

[Alexsezia] Leans against the tree, her feelings in turmoil.

[Zly Wilk] Because deep down, that isn't who we were. We devoted lifetimes to helping those in need... Even at our worst.

[Alexsezia] Forces herself to stand and decides to go tell Doc and TLOT what she's heard, as she turns to go she walks straight into Cp and lets out a yelp of suprise-

[CP] Can't help a small snicker-

[Lie] Sighs-

[Lazur] I don't buy that, Zly. We spent a good long time in the revenge business, and we had our fair share of innocent blood on our hands.

[Alexsezia] Huffs at Cp- How long have you been standing there?!

[CP] - Not long, we just got back

[Alexsezia] Thumbs at the pair- I'm not sure what to think...

[CP] - What about them?

[Alexsezia] They... they deleted someone.... it sounds like they deserved it, but still... - She hugs her arms around her chest -

[CP] Growls and kinda thrusts Lie at Alexsezia-

[Lie] Surprised noise-

[Alexsezia] Barely manages to catch Lie without them both falling -

[Zly Wilk] - doesn't see the others but motions Lazur to be quiet. Listens for a moment and signals Lazur to be ready to move out.

[CP] Skirts around to get behind them-

[Alexsezia] Hugs Lie a little - I used to think ugly things about brines and glitches both... I'm ashamed of that... And now I'm ashamed to be scared because so many of my friends are like that...

[Lazur] - is suddenly on high alert and equips her armor. - Zly.... I don't think we're safe here anymore....

[Lie] Pats her with a fluffy paw- It's okay, at least you had a better introduction to them then I did

[Alexsezia] Pales visibly - That's saying a lot... I did get my best friend raped after all...

[Lie] - ... Okay fair point

[Alexsezia] I hope Cp doesn't do something dumb...

[Zly Wilk] - equips his staff but keeps it low - Time to go then...- Starts walking generally toward where CP is.

[CP] Lunges forwards with his sword aimed at Zly's heart-

[Zly Wilk] - Deftly side steps and pivots to avoid the blow and sighs in resignation. - Not now, CP.

[CP] Growling and catching on fire-

[Lazur] - moves so she and Zly are back to back, thinking the server is against them and defending against any other attackers. -

[Zly Wilk]- at CP- I don't want to fight you... I don't know if I can keep my powers in check right now.

[CP] Lunges again and at the last second teleports so he can hit Zly's back-

[Lazur] - uses the forearm shield of her armor to deflect the blow. She seems much more eager to fight than her companion -

[CP] Scowls- Fuck off!

[Lazur] Not a chance! - the two stay back to back attempting a retreat away from the big Brine -

[Alexsezia] Comes out a bit panicked and still holding Lie - Stop! Please don't! We've had so much tradgedy... I can't bear to see anyone deleted... Please... just stop.... - A few tears roll down her face-

[CP] Moves to just shove Alexsezia-

[Alexsezia] Holds Lie close to her body. Instinctively protecting the cat-

[CP] Goes in for the attack again-

[Alexsezia] Puts Lie down and draws her bow. It has some small enchantments on it, but it's ordinary otherwise. -

[Lazur] - takes a glancing blow that draws blood. She falls, wiping the blood from her arm and grins. -

[Zly Wilk] - steps up to protect his fallen partner. -

[CP] Slashes at Zly next, his eyes glowing brightly-

[Alexsezia] Aims at Cp and shoots him in the knee with a plain arrow-

[Zly Wilk] - brings the staff up one handed with a resounding crack like thunder, the impact of the weapons seeming to spark a blaze of yellow energy around him. His glitched eye blazes. He speaks in a voice much deeper than his normal range. - ENOUGH!!!!! LAZUR. PACIFY.

[Lazur] - concentrates and suddenly CP is immobilized in a column of blue energy. Unable to move or speak.

[Zly Wilk] - strides up to CP and roars - YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHO YOU ARE MESSING WITH, BRINE. I ONCE COMMANDED THE POWER TO LAY WASTE TO ALL BEFORE ME. TO MY FOES I WAS THE REAPER. THE ONCOMING STORM. I LAY WASTE TO WORLDS, SCATTERED CIVILIZATIONS TO THE WIND AND CAST THE WICKED INTO THE BLACKNESS OF DISCORDIA. DO NOT THINK FOR A MOMENT I CAN BE INTIMIDATED. - he adds his own energy to the field and CP feels a tingle through his body.

[Lazur] - is startled by Zly's outburst and reverts back to a formal form of address - Sir. You need to stand down!

[Zly Wilk] - growls and stares at CP, his hands hooked into claws. before blinking and looking at the expressions of those around him-

[Alexsezia] Points the bow at Zly instead- You leave him alone!

[Lie] Is growling at Zly her black thorny vines creating a wall around the area-

[CP] Is also growling at Zly-

[Zly Wilk] - a look of horror passes over his face and his energy blinks out like a snuffed candle. He drops his staff and it despawns. - No.... Not again. I will never be that again.... Lazur... Release.

[Lazur] - lowers her forcefield and steps back.

[Alexsezia] Lowers the bow a little. - I may be small and weak, but I won't stand by and see anyone bullied.

[Zly Wilk] - doesn't respond. Is staring a thousand miles away -

[CP] Lands a bit hard on the ground- Fucker!

[Alexsezia] Puts the bow away and goes to him. She's too small to help him up, but she does pull the small arrow out of his leg - Sorry Cp...

[CP] Scowls and is glaring at Zly-

[Lie] Trots over to her husband and rubs against him, trying to calm him-

[Zly Wilk] - sinks heavily to his knees -

[Lie] - Zly... What was that about?

[Alexsezia] Sits as well, next to Cp with a jingling of her chainmail as she plops down, her pulse still racing.

[Zly Wilk] - is looking down at his hands and appears not to have heard her. -

[Lazur] - steps over to Zly and puts her hands on his shoulders - Lie....Recent events... with CPs NOTCH, what he did to you both. It brought up memories of a very dark time in our existence. Something we tried to bury. Zly and I once used to serve a similar function to the NOTCH AIs that would hunt brines... But we hunted down malicious programming, fixed glitches. One program destroyed the server we were to protect. We ended up chasing it through several servers and systems, gaining powers to fight it. ultimately we suceeded, but not before we lost a lot of friends... And a brother in arms.

[Alexsezia] ... I don't know what to think... I'm just scared for my friends...

[Lie] - I see... But why did that cause him to attack CP like that? I mean yes I know my husband is an ass and will fight at any opportunity, but still...

[Lazur] Zly and I did try to back off... When CP pressed the attack, it must have triggered a flashback. Zly was already dealing with nightmares of that night... I hadn't seen him talk like that since the night we lost our friend Eset. I'm sorry... It's no excuse...

[Alexsezia] He's been hurt too... He's trying to be better...

[Lie] - You know, if there's any part left of him, Doc might be able to bring him back

[Lazur] -to Alexsezia - It was probably a blind panic... Fight or flight.... But despite what you saw or felt, the full range of our powers don't work here.

[Lazur] -to lie- do you really think the Doctor can help?

[Lie] - Well they did recently bring a Steve back from partial coding...

[Alexsezia] Is petting Cp's hair distractedly, mostly because she can reach him [And she's used to him being a cat sometimes]

[CP] - The fuck are you doing!?

[Alexsezia] Jumps a little - Sorry! - waves her hands vaguely - you know.... cats!

[CP] Narrows eyes at her-

[Alexsezia] I said I was sorry!

[Lazur] Sadly I don't know where we would get any of his coding. He was killed on the server we had to burn to keep the Mal from spreading.

[Lie] - I'm sure they'd be willing to try. I'm also willing to bet that CP attacked because you were talking about deletions

[CP] Flips Alexsezia off-

[Lie] Tail twitches in irritation at her husband's antics-

[Alexsezia] Reaches for Lie -

[Lie] Purrs a little as Alexsezia touches her-

[Zly Wilk] - shutters -

[Lazur] I'd like to get hir opinion. Maybe it can be done.

[Alexsezia] Pulls Lie into her lap and pets her unhappily. - I've seen amazing things since coming here... I don't there's much of anything that's impossible anymore.

[CP] Starts standing up-

[Lazur] - helps Zly to his feet - I think we'll head to the castle to see Doc.

[Zly Wilk] - reluctantly stands, but refuses to look at anyone in shame -

[CP] Looks down at Alexsezia holding his wife and just reaches down and picks them up by the scruff of Alexsezia's clothes-

[Alexsezia] Startled noise-

[Lazur] Sorry for the trouble we caused. Hopefully won't happen again. - waves to group as they head off -

[CP] Looks down at the Alex- I'm only doing this because TLOT would have a conniption fit if I left you alone or here in this sort of condition

[Doc] Is working in hir lab while Yaunfen plays. The table is covered with glassware, sugarcane and balls of string.

[Yaunfen] Is it ready yet Mada?

[Doc] Not yet. I'm still figuring this out... - Xe has hir command block open to a webpage and is reading it carefully-

[Yaunfen] Goes to bother Idolus, xe's drawing mustaches and silly faces on the glass with a dye blob whenever the big fish stops moving for a moment.

[Lazur] - over chat - Doc. Are you busy?

[Doc] Yes, but it's nothing intense. I'm okay to talk. I'm in the lab-

[Lazur] Ok. Be there soon. - shows up moments later with a morose looking Zly trailing behind.- Hi Doc. Thanks for seeing us.

[Doc] Oh hey guys - Xe's gently tipping sugar into a rather pixelated beaker.

[Yaunfen] Hello!

[Idolus] Very aggravated guardian noises from behind a painted mustache and glasses-

[Doc] Squeaks a stopper into the bottle and watches it intently- Something on your minds?

[Lazur] Well..... It was mentioned you have had success bring people back from.... - looks to see if the young dragon is listening - you know...?

[Yaunfen] Notices her reticence and scoots closer-

[Doc] Cocks hir head interestedly- From the dead?

[Lazur] - nods - we had a friend that we lost during the mission that led to us being here.

[Doc] Lost how? I mean, how did they die?

[Yaunfen] is watching the glassware now since the stoppered bottle is bubbling-

[Zly Wilk] - barely a whisper - I let him die.

[Lazur] He was killed fighting a Mal... A malicious program we were trying to stop. It surprised us and our friend got run through from behind with a spike and took the Mal with him over a ledge.

[Doc] So there's a contamination risk with the remains... if they can be found... It's probably do-able but will require some quarantine procedures in addition to the usual.

[Yaunfen] Pokes the bottle - Mada? It's hard?!

[Doc] Looks down- Well then... That's a bit more then I intended. - The bottle seems to be filled with ice now, but there's no sweating or cold coming from it.

[Lazur] It was also on the server we 'burned'... So there is a chance we may not get on at all..... - looks at the bottle- What.... What IS that?

[Doc] Mostly sugar-

[Yaunfen] Can I have it?!

[Doc] No, let me try again with a bowl sweetie. I don't want you to eat the glass. I don't trust myself not to miss a pixel or two if I melt the bottle off and it won't come out-

[Yaunfen] Sad face-

[Doc] Gives hir a look- Just give me a moment.

[Yaunfen] Okay Mada...

[Doc] Who did the server belong too? - Pulls out a wooden bowl and pours it full of water and sugar-

[Lazur] We never knew the User... We were called in by the server's security programs when they got over run. It was am old EnCom server. Rigged for online use. So I'm guessing it was used for something shady considering how easily they were taken over.

[Doc] A deep web Minecraft server...? What an odd thought... Do you have information on it? An address number at least? I can do some research.

-The liquid in the bowl has started bubbling-

[Doc] Stay back Yaunfen, you guys too... -

[Zly Wilk] - moves out of the way-

[Lazur] - stands back- Yes. Here is the info you will need. We were in the server program itself. While some servers imbued with magik can manifest like Flux and Deerheart, some basic, older servers and mainframes were more like a grid or a city with different games and functions as a destination.

[Doc] That should work. I'll see if I can find a saved file anywhere for it. The person I'm looking for is a server manifestation?

-There's a sharp FUMP noise and the bowl is suddenly overfull with a growth of clear crystals-

[Doc] Thats more like it!

[Zly Wilk] - jumps at the noise, still clearly spooked.

[Lazur] - places a reassuring hand on Zly - No, a digital being similar to Zly and myself. Here... Take this. It's a copy of our ID icons. The being you are looking for will have similar code. - hands Doc a small black and yellow badge. At higher resolution it would appear to be a round disc with a dual colored square in the middle.

[Doc] Takes the badge and turns it over in hir hands - I see...

[Yaunfen] Mada, can I have it now?

[Doc] Me first, just in case.

[Yaunfen] Aww...

[Doc] Melts off a bit of crystal and eats it - hmmmm... So what was your friends name anyway?

[Zly Wilk] Eset.

[Lazur] - smiles at Zly, happy he seems to be coming around.

[Zly Wilk] Doc. Is it right to bring someone back? Will they remember their death? I let the boy fall... I failed to protect him. How do i explain that betrayal?

[Doc] Hir mouth is a flat line for a long moment. - My exposure to religious stuff has been pretty miniscule and recent. I think I'm the wrong person to ask. - xe shrugs- I'm a doctor. My chosen or intended purpose is to save what can be preserved and fix whatever broken things fall into my hands. I'll leave the right or wrong to other people. Maybe you could talk to Liu? See what he remembers? His own brother murdered him and he was dead for a long time before I revivied him.

[Yaunfen] Can I have it now Mada?!

[Doc] Yes! I'm sorry sweetie, go ahead-

[Yaunfen] YAY! - They grab the bowl in their paws and start to lick and nom on the crystals with gusto.

[Lazur] - gets face to face with Zly, gently but firmly says - You. Are. Not. To. Blame. You want to work at righting past mistakes, I can't think of better than giving Eset a new chance at a life.

[Zly Wilk] - looks away and watches the dragon devour the rock candy -

[Doc] I'll get right on this in the meantime, and let you know what I find.

[Yaunfen] Happy nomming-

[Lazur] Thank You. I think I'm going to get Zly to rest. We had an.... Um.... exciting afternoon... I'm sure Lie or Alexsezia will fill you in later.

[Doc] No one is using the recovery room by the tub or the one next to the blaze cage at the moment. - points at both of them in turn.

[Lazur] Thanks. - leads her friend to the recovery room by the tub. She lays him down in one bed then takes the other and are soon both asleep.

[CP] Drops Alexsezia in front of her house- Can I have my wife now?

[Lie] - CP don't be rude

[Alexsezia] Shakes her head to clear it a bit - Yeah... sorry. Here - she holds Lie out gently- I think we both over-reacted a bit...

[CP] - I don't know what your talking about

[Ohana] - Exploring the woods in server, pausing to feel the trees and leaves periodically-

[HG] -is walking around near by watering flowers and mushrooms he sees-

[Ohana] So... Different... -hasn't noticed Hg yet-

[HG] -sees ohana from afar and starts to approach him-

[Ohana] - notices HG and tenses up out of habit-

[HG] -waves in a friendly matter- hello it's nice to meet you

[Ohana] H... Hi....

[HG] Are you ok?

[Ohana] I don't... Know. I'm.. Better than I was before..

[HG] that's good that your better. oh right my name is Herobrine the gardener or HG for short.

[Ohana] It's, nice to meet you, I'm Ohana... Oh! I'm not... Um, in your space am I?

[HG] oh no I just like to walk around and water plants.

[Ohana] That's good, I'm glad I'm not. - meek smile -

[HG] even if you where I don't mind visitors

[Ohana] Are you.. Sure? I'd hate to intrude...

[HG] I am completely sure

[Ohana] -smiles a bit more, happy and glad- Alright.

[HG] if you would like I can show you to my place and see around we aren't that far from it

[Ohana] I'd like that! If its. Not any trouble of course!..

[HG] none at all follow me -starts leading the way the trees open up eventually to see some the path that leads to hg's house-

[Ohana] - follows HG closely, pausing again to touch things and marvel at the different textures -

[HG] you like feeling things how come? -they are following the path they are passing lots of trees and a small lake and steps and are closing in fast to hg's house so much so you can see though the trees some of the sugar cane that lines the river of hg's home-

[Ohana] I um.. - nervously clenches his wrist, scratching a bit - I was.. Locked in a bedrock cage. I... I didn't get to feel much but that and glowstone... I.. I'm enjoying it a lot.

[Ohana] The different feelings are nice.

[HG] i'm sorry I brought up that painful memory i'm sorry you where locked in there -they make it to the bridge that goes over the river it's make of logs and has a roof of leafs and is covered in vines beyond the bridge hg's house can be seen and some of the large amount of plants even floating islands that have plants on them-

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eurusholmmes · 7 years

Text

Fantasy (II) | Leo Fitz

You can read Part One here

Previously- Jemma Simmons comes spiraling into your life with a story you’d never expected to hear. According to her, you’re from another world, a real one, and you happen to be in love with the man who is the essence of your hate.

Part 2 - After the death of your brother The Patriot, you’re on the war path to destroy the man who killed him. Your journey leads you right here, to this moment, a hundred feet away from your ticket back to the real world. The only problem? The man you love has a gun pointed at your head.

Anything in italics is song lyrics and flashbacks! Song comes from Young and Menace - Fall Out Boy.

“There’s.. a machine. AIDA originally destroyed our back door out of here but Radcliffe inserted a new one. You have to come with us so we can all get back to our world.” Daisy Johnson persisted. You were standing in the middle of the circle wearing your Patriot uniform, a mixture of different emotions fluttering across your face as you contemplated your choices. Stay in hell.. or return home to a world without your brother. “Y/n.. it’s what your brother would want.”

“How do you know what Jeffery would want?!” You snapped unintentionally. “How do any of you know?! How am I supposed to be sure that this isn’t all a lie, and you’re not walking me straight to my death? I have people here, a resistance to lead.” Your voice cut off as tears pricked your eyes, closing up your throat and inhibiting your ability to speak. “A freaking war to win!”

The older gentleman with the soft eyes and glasses stepped forward and rested his hand on your shoulder. Much to your disbelief, you found comfort in his touch. “Because we all know you, y/n. This place has been tampering with all of our memories as if we have been living two different lives. In the real world... In the real world you and your brother lead SHIELD together. He wouldn’t have become Director if it weren’t for you.”

Turning on your heel, you came face to face with Simmons. Your mouth was poised to snap back some response about Fitz when you heard the unmistakable sound of multiple enemies entering the building. “Get out of the way!” You screamed, diving to your left as gunfire rang out and the team split into different directions.

Simmons words from the bunker still echoed in your mind as you stormed past multiple hostiles, fueled by the want for revenge, until you finally set eyes on the same man you’d vowed to destroy. He was.. he was still as stunning as you remembered in the real world.

You stood on your tiptoes and slowly extended your hand to rest against Fitz face, your fingers cupping his jaw as he leaned into your touch. ‘’Please.. Leo. Kiss me.” You whispered. You swore you felt his knees weaken as he gripped your hips tightly, leaning in closer to your face as his nose gently brushed against yours.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” Fitz whispered in response. “And I’m bloody terrified.”

Your y/e/c eyes narrowed as Leopold Fitz emerged from the dark, the shadows conforming to him almost as if he owned the darkness itself. “I’ve been wondering when you were going to show your face again.” He said, pulling the handgun from his suit and flicking the safety off. “Nice to see you, y/n.”

We've gone way too fast for way too long And we were never supposed to make it half this far

“You know, I’m resisting the urge to kill you. To strangle you until the life fades from your eyes and you become nothing more then a string of numbers. Pixels that just.. waste away.” You snapped. “But then I met these people, these extraordinary people who wanted nothing more then to convince me of one thing and one thing only. That the only way you wake up is if I’m the one to wake you.”

And I lived so much life, lived so much life I think that God is gonna have to kill me twice

“You almost died today!!” Fitz snapped angrily, pacing the length of the training area as you pounded your fists against the punching bag in front of you. Hook, jab, kick. Hook, jab, kick. “You took a bullet for Jemma and Daisy, who was more then capable of incapacitating that HYDRA agent. But you.. you and your self sacrificial tendencies had to do it for her-”

You whipped around and lunged towards the scientist, pinning him against the wall with your arm. Fitz chest rumbled as he struggled to regain his breath as his eyes desperately searched yours. “That HYDRA agent threatened to cut you to pieces in front of me twice.” You muttered. “And I was not about to let the one good thing in my life be taken from me. Not when we’ve barely gotten started with our forever.”

“Fitz-”

The barrel of the gun was inching closer to you. Closer and closer.. until he finally put the bullet in your head. “You don’t get to say my name.” He growled. “Not after everything you’ve done.”

Kill me twice like my name was Nikki Sixx I woke up in my shoes again, but somewhere you exist singing..

“You-” You exclaimed, exasperated. “You’re the one who sent the airstrike to kill my brother! If anyone should be infuriated-” Your fist pounded against your sternum so hard you were sure you’d cracked one of your ribs. “It should be me! You took my life away! And to think I’d come here to rescue you!”

Oops, I did it again, I forgot what I was losing my mind about

His eyes were different then you remembered. Dark irises filled with hate and malice. For who.. you didn’t know. Maybe a death by bullet was better then having to slowly die at the thought you’d never gain the man you loved back.

I only wrote this down to make you press rewind And send a message I was young and a menace

“You say you came here to rescue me,” He stated. “But you kill my father? Right after he tells me that he loves me, you murder him in cold blood.” His laughter is so vacant, so without remorse, that it sends chills down the length of your spine. “And to think that the imitator of Skye told me that you were the woman I’m in love with.”

Woke up on the wrong side of reality And there's a madness that's just coursing right through me

“I did what had to be done.” You snapped back, releasing your hair from its tight ponytail as Fitz took another step forward. You balled your hands into fists at your sides, the weight of the Patriot uniform sinking into your shoulders. What a cruel way to have the weight of the world all on me. “And I’m sorry that it hurt you, but look at yourself. You’re already destroyed.”

“You act as if you’re innocent, but look at you! You want to destroy this world, you want to destroy me, and you want to destroy the woman that I love!” Your heart sank at his statement but you made no effort to let it show on your face. Fingernails dug deep into the skin of your palms as you struggled to keep your stoic composure in front of the HYDRA leader. Blood dripped from your palms and onto the floor.

And as far as the time, far as the time Not sure I'm there yet but I'm certain I've arrived

“None of this is real. AIDA.. AIDA isn’t real either. She’s not a woman, she’s just a robot!” You snarled.

“Her name is Ophelia-”

“No. Its name is AIDA. Artificial Intelligent Digital Assistant. And stop- Stop making excuses for it! Radcliffe and Daisy told you the truth!” Tears were slowly trailing down your sunken cheeks as the barrel of the gun was now inches away from your head.

“I’m going to tell you this once. Get on your knees.”

Your eyes narrowed in on the weapon as you shook your head. “Get that thing away from me, or you’re going to regret it.” Your anger subsided until nothing but grief and regret passed across your face, lips slightly quivering as your facade fell. “I thought that having to kill you would be a satisfactory win to this endless war. But now I’ve realized what’s worse. The man I love is already-He’s already dead.” Your hand flashed upward until you were gripping the barrel of the handgun, your eyes flashing dangerously as you and Fitz now stood eye to eye. “So a bullet to the head would just be granting me mercy. Maybe I can see them again. See my boys.. See a world with hope. Because there’s none left in this one.”

Oops, I did it again, I forgot what I was losing my mind about

Your ears rang as a single shot fired from the weapon, skimming the side of your neck and sending you to your knees. Fitz stepped backward as you clasped the broken skin to stop the bleeding, your eyes bloodshot and red rimmed as you lifted them to meet his own. “You mean nothing to me. I’m not yours.”

I only wrote this down to make you press rewind And send a message I was young and a menace

A sharp gasp broke past your lips as he pressed the gun into the top of your head. “I want to hear you say it.” He stated simply. “I am nothing to you.” You pressed your lips into a thin line as your gaze settled on Radcliffe. A man who had created this world, the other side of reality, as a chance for people to fix their mistakes. And AIDA Ophelia had turned it into the full scale version of what you imagined hell was like; a world where Leopold Fitz no longer loved you.

“Say it.” He demanded, the barrel pressed deeper into your head. “Say it!”

You eyed him defiantly before you uttered three simple words in the form of a whisper. “I love you.”

He was stunned at your resilience and determination. It had caught him off guard just enough for Radcliffe to jump into action at that moment, firing into the man beside him before knocking Fitz over the head with the butt of his own weapon. “This was never my intention.” He pronounced, leading Fitz out into the loading dock where Daisy had been using her quaking powers to open the back door of the Framework. “The Darkhold corrupted my mind. Please don’t blame yourself. It’s all my fault.”

And with that, he shoved Fitz through the door, leaving you alone with him and Jemma. The scientist turned towards you and slowly lifted your hand to gaze at your wound. “I’ll live. Not anything I haven’t seen before.” You muttered. “Thank you.”

“He’s going to need you now more then ever.” Radcliffe proclaimed. “You need to be there for him.”

You glanced back at your brother, who was all smiles and wide shimmering eyes as the two of you stood parallel to one another. “I’ll see you on the other side, y/n!”

Opening your arms, a peaceful smile spread across your face as you glanced up at the array of stars through the glass ceiling. “I’ll see you on the other side, Mace.”

If I am off the deep end I'm just here to become the best yet

Your eyes snapped open as you inhaled your first breath of oxygen for what felt like in forever, shaking hands extending outward only to grasp the shoulders of Phil Coulson. “Hi.” He said breathlessly, laughing as you glared at him from your pedestal. “You’e right on time. We both just woke up.”

Fitz. “Is-” Your gaze shifted back down to your clothes, which were now the SHIELD uniform as opposed to your Patriot armor. Realization hit you as you slowly leaned forward to gaze down the line of pedestals half expecting to see your brothers corpse on the end. “He’s really dead.”

“I’m so sorry y/n.” Coulson murmured quietly. Staring in disbelief, you felt your heart rate speed up when a familiar voice appeared behind you. You slowly turned on your aching feet to find a wide eyed, terrified Fitz staring at you with such remorse and regret in his expression that it almost tore your heart to shreds. “It’s okay. We’re all awake now.”

“What-What have I done?” He murmured.

“Don’t blame yourself. The Framework messes with all of us.” He recoiled almost as if Coulsons touch had burned him, oblivious to the fact that you were taking slow deliberate steps in his direction.

“No-No!” He exclaimed. “But I killed people!”

“No, you didn’t. That wasn’t the real you-”

He was so close to you now. You could nearly hear the frantic pounding of his heart, feel his warm erratic breath ghost over your skin. You gulped down the knot in your throat as you slowly extended your hand and wrapped your fingers around his wrist.

I'm just here for the psych assessment I'm just here for the, for the... Fall

“But I- I ordered the air strike that killed Mace.” He said in disbelief, his eyes finally flickering over to you as you now stood inches away from him. “I’m the one who killed your brother.”

You slowly tilted his chin upward with your thumb and index finger, guiding his opposing arm to wrap around your waist. His fingers hooked around your opposite hip as your lips ghosted over his own. “It was all a cruel fantasy.” You whispered as his kisses became desperate, needy; full of want and need. “Now we have to power through it. For a better tomorrow, for our chance at forever.”

His lips collided with yours, pulling you as physically close to him as possible. Your fingers snaked up his neck to thread through his curls as the lack of oxygen became great enough for the two of you to pull apart; leaving him breathless and smiling. “I’d always wanted a superhero wife.” He murmured, burying his face in your neck as Fitz let out a shuddering breath. “And one who knows her science.”

“A superhero science wife. That could be printed on a teeshirt.”

“I’ll be sure to get right on that after we finish saving the world.”

“For the umpteenth time?”

Laughter echoed in the room as you nodded eagerly, lips spread out in a wide smile as you pulled back to gaze deeply into Fitz cerulean irises. These were the eyes that you remembered; the eyes that held you with such high esteem and such awe that you might as well have been the most priceless jewel in the Cosmos.

These were the eyes to the soul of the man you loved.

“For the umpteenth time.”

We were gone way too fast for way too long

#leo fitz #leo fitz x reader #farewell cruel world #leopold fitz #agents of shield imagines #agents of shield season 4 #jemma simmons #daisy johnson #Kayla Grace writes imagines

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beacon-of-joy · 7 years

Text

the smell of space

When I was 6 and on holiday in Zanzibar, I told my parents I couldn't smell. They were perplexed, thought I was lying. Once they learned I wasn't, they moved on with their life. They had different worries at the time. After all, this was at the time where my downy six-year-old hair was tangling in thick, blond dreadlocks because I refused to brush it, and at the time where I was obsessed with digging tourist traps in the beach in front of our bungalow.

It didn't really come up much. After all, smelling doesn't figure much into your life if you can't do it. It's not as if I ever looked up from drowning my sisters barbies in a mud puddle, or from feeding imaginary horses buckets of sand, or from climbing up my garden wall to pick the shards of glass from between the coils of barbed wire at the top, just to say "wow, I wonder what the world smells like today."

There are five senses, and I always thought it would be a waste to mourn the loss of one of them when I have four of them left to enjoy. I may not know what my mother's perfume smells like, but I know the touch of her dry hand and the texture of her fingernails. I may not know what my own room smells like but I know the exact way the sunlight falls at 5:43 on the longest day of the year. I may not know how home smells, but I know its sounds and the way it fogs up my glasses when I come back home in the winter, I know the boxes of discarded cleaning materials stacked underneath the sink, I know the way my sister shouts at me when I shower too late.

Just because I can't smell it, doesn't mean it's not my home.

I spent a smell-less childhood, like growing up in a sluggish underwater world of only motion and sound. I laughed at people who pulled faces at farts and forgot to flush the toilet because I failed to recognize the foul smell, until my father, pulling out brochures of the Austrian Development Agency's Department of Hygiene, showed me the effect in shocking scientific detail.

At times, my sister would sit down next to me and try to describe the world to me, as one would describe it to a blind man. She would tell me what grass smells like, and the bread that my mother pulled out of the oven everyday in a frantic attempt to instill in us some of the Austrian love of real bread instead of letting us sink into the endless amounts of toast that passed for bread in Uganda. I would listen with the vacant curiosity of someone who has been asked to visualize an imaginary colour. I grasped at the threads that my sister handed to me and felt them snap under my fingers as I failed to understand the concept of air filling my nose instead of my lungs.

I didn't mind. At times where I got to fend off snakes with a stick and drive a car through a national park with my father's hands safely hovering by the steering wheel beside mine, what the savannah smelled like was not an immediate concern.

With the move to Austria came a sudden realization of the existence of the internet. What had until now been an entirely too unwieldy tool, a platform of pages upon pages of technology made for a world that was not mine, a world of faster and colder and less filled with beautiful distractions, became accessible overnight, faced a sudden revolution that catapulted it from the realm of "occasional" to the world of "necessary".

The snakes were replaced with online games, the avocado tree in the garden turned into pages of 0s and 1s, the sandbox dissolved into pixels and smudged screens.

My sister told me how the Danube smelled.

At 13, still not smelling the pizzeria beneath my flat or the chocolate factory beside my school, still not feeling at home in a new apartment that smelled no different from the old apartment that smelled no different from the old apartment that smelled no different from the crisp hospital bed I was first laid out in one winter night, I googled.

I googled and I googled and I found a name. Anosmia.

My parents didn't know what I was talking about, thought it had been a 6-year-old phase that had passed long ago, and realized only as I pulled up webpage after webpage of relief that I was not alone, that I simply wasn't a "phases" kid.

I waited 14 years to be dragged to the doctor, and by that time, looking at the patients in the waiting room, I preferred to be numb to their perfume.

My sister told me what hospitals smelled like.

I researched and watched documentaries, scoffed and laughed at tearful teenagers declaring on youtube how anosmia ruined them, scared them, cast them out from a crowd of able-bodied people. My friend said it was technically a disability. I laughed and denied it even the title of "illness", forcing it into the tight constraints of "thing" and allowing it as much impact on my life as a scented candle would have.

I didn't understand those who preferred tragedy and sympathy over seizing life by all its four senses and forcing it to bend into the most beautiful shape you could find.

I would scare my parents by telling them that anosmiacs are more likely to die of gas leaks or food poisoning. More likely to be depressed. More likely to fall into eating disorders. More likely to be lonely.

At 15, a doctor suggested surgery. I asked if I could think about it and lay awake all night wondering what my pillow smelled like. What my home smelled like. What my family's love smelled like.

After two days of thinking about it, I politely declined.

In the end, I was scared. I was scared of losing a part of myself by inviting something new in, I was scared of too many sensations, I was scared of the overflow, scared of being able to love people by smell, scared of tasting food, scared of digging my face into a pillow that told a story.

I realized that my father's sadness would smell of cigarettes.

At 16, I lost my appetite. Smell is 50% of taste and over 80% of appetite. In order to be able to encourage myself to eat, I need to know it's worth it. Moving out, I was suddenly stripped of a key survival mechanism. I skipped lunches, and breakfasts, and dinners, I didn't eat for four days before I forced myself to swallow down a few spoonfuls of mashed potatoes.

I looked at that checklist from three years ago, and slowly ticked the boxes. Food poisoning. Lack of appetite. Difficulties forming relationships. Sudden weight loss. Weakened emotional memory. A long list of ticks that I refused to feel upset about.

At 17, I learned that space has a smell. Despite everything, it might have been the only time I was willing to call it a "disability."

After all, there's four senses left. And I have grabbed each one and forced life into the best, most beautiful shape I have been able to find.

#my writing #anosmia #I've got two finals left so time for creative writing i guess

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wtf-taeyong · 7 years

Text

No - Part 3 - Jin/Seokjin angst

I’m really so sorry that this took so long! I don’t really have much of an excuse, other than originally this was only going to be one part and since so many of you enjoyed it, I decided to rattle out part 2 and suddenly all my inspiration was gone, I had no middle or ending planned at all and I’ve come to hate this story a bit. Nevertheless, here is part 3 and hopefully part 4 is done within a year this time!! <3

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 ___________________________

Taehyung wasn’t sure what the protocol for this was. He wasn’t sure if he should report your case to the boss, or if he should just leave you alone. He hadn’t been given instructions on how to act, and now, with his phone clutched in his hand, the pixels screaming at him to call his boss and get it over and done with, he didn’t. He… Couldn’t.

You were staring up at him with wide eyes, and a certain innocence that he hadn’t expected from someone so deeply connected with Seokjin. It was apparent, in the tone of your voice and the pinched look on your face that you truly had no idea who Seokjin was. You actually couldn’t remember him after your assault and Taehyung couldn’t feel anything other than pity.

This is why he thought that love was stupid. Why waste time on something with an expiration date when you could just live your life to the fullest and make yourself entirely happy? He didn’t understand Yoongi, who gave up all of his girls for just one, only for it to end in tatters. He couldn’t understand the logic behind it all and he knew that he would never understand for as long as he lived. He preferred it that way.

“So, Y/N…” He trailed off, rolling back on his heels.

He really only had two options. He could call Kim Namjoon and inform him on the situation and potentially get you eliminated if Seokjin didn’t want you anymore, or he could brush all of this under the rug and let you live out your days happily, with a massive blank space.

True, he couldn’t risk you regaining your memories and coming to look for Jin.

Although… If Taehyung hadn’t even recognised you when you first met in the alleyway and you had desperately begged for Seokjin to return home with you… Then how attached actually were you? Did you even know anything about the gang or did Jin have you fooled that he just worked long hours at some boring day job?

Taehyung’s mind was swimming and the way you looked at him as if you expected all the answers in the world wasn’t helping him at all. He breathed out heavily, shoulders slumping forwards.

He hated getting innocents involved.

“Yeah, Namjoon hyung? We have a kind of situation here…”

“What,” Seethed Namjoon. “The ever loving fuck?”

Jin shrugged, not meeting his leader's eyes and scuffing his feet slightly. He didn’t enjoy all of the attention on him at all, and he found it annoying that it was about something that was shoved into the past now.

His heart ached at that thought.

“How did she end up in this mess?” Namjoon demanded, stepping forwards and staring at Seokjin with an intensity so fierce that even Yoongi was perturbed.

“I don’t know,” Seokjin said truthfully, still refusing to look into his eyes. “When I got home, she was already like that. All I did was take her to the hospital. Which is where she should be now, getting medical help.”

You were currently in the custody of Taehyung who had a tight grip on your upper arm. You were staring around the room in bewilderment, only able to recognise the man who was holding onto you like his life depended on it. Which, you admitted whilst staring at the tan man who was seething like an angry pitbull, it may very well do so.

Jin ignored this fact and he even ignored your entire existence, eyes dancing over you like you were a stranger when he was called into the room. You had no idea why, but the lack of recognition in his eyes unsettled you.

He had acted like he cared for you in the hospital, had he not? Why did he pretend not to know you?

“Well you must have some kind of an idea who did this to her!” the man burst, startling you slightly.

Upon feeling your muscles tense, Taehyung eased his grip slightly and rubbed his thumb over your skin in what you assumed he thought was a soothing manner. It only did the opposite; you were fully aware of what kind of people you were trapped in a room with and you didn’t want any of them to try and comfort you. You didn’t want to let your guard down once.

“She said that she had been receiving weird texts for a while,” Jin admitted. You froze, remembering the words that you had read across your phone screen. “But I didn’t think anything of it.”

You tried to think, again, where you had seen this handsome man’s face but you were coming up blank again. Your head was still hurting from the moment you woke up, you didn’t understand what was going on at all. Who was this man?

“You probably should have,” A slightly shorter yet equally intimidating man piped up from where he was leaning against the wall. “If any other girl told their boyfriend they were received dodgy messages, their boyfriends would do something about it.”

Boyfriend? You apparently told Jin… Was he your boyfriend? Why couldn’t you remember him?

“Where is her phone now?” The man demanded, pinching the bridge of his nose. Immediately, Taehyung shoved his hand into his pocket and brought out your phone. You bristled slightly at the sight of your beloved possession in his grasp, and you tensed even further when he simply threw it to another man with the cotton candy hair. He walked it over to his boss who took it and you could have vomited when he threw it to the floor and ground it under his foot.

Everybody in the room watched with baited breath as the man leaned down and picked up the pieces, pulling the back off and sliding out the SIM card.

“Namjoon?” the shorter man asked, stepping forwards. His face was still half-cast in the shadows which inflicted slight fear upon you, but he didn’t even give you a glance. He was completely focused on this Namjoon.

“In case she’s being traced,” He, Namjoon, clarified. Resolution passed over Seokjin’s face, along with a flash of something mutinous, but it was gone before you even fully registered that it was there. “Seokjin, you have the honour of escorting our friend here to the cells. Do try and make sure she doesn’t get away, because it’ll be your head that I have.”

Seokjin’s grip was incredibly bruising on your upper arm as he led you down some tastefully furnished hallway, through a few doorways and finally out a door into a bright kind of compound, with similar buildings like the one you just walked out of surrounding the perimeter of the open area in the middle. He was completely silent as the two of you journeyed over to a building slightly smaller than the others and, even though you had no recollection of this man, it was awkward and uncomfortable. You wanted to fill the gap with something, even if it was just him barking at you to shut up or whatever gang members usually said.

This was a gang, right?

“So, we’re dating, huh?” You could have facepalmed at how awkward and potentially insensitive that was. He was silent for a few moments whilst you internally cursed yourself, but he spoke eventually.

“No.”

That shut you up, but only for a moment. You went into the small building that was seemingly only one floor high, and he led you down yet another identical hallway and through some doors. Seemingly, these buildings took up a lot of area rather than height. The lighting was particularly poor in that building, which was surprising considering the wealth they seemed to possess based on the previous buildings you had seen and been in.

“So, what’s your role?” You asked. This time he turned his head towards you, cocking an eyebrow. “You know, in all those mafia movies and whatever, each member has a specific thing they specialise in, right? So what’s yours?”

“None of your fucking business.” His tone was sharp and incredibly biting, but it didn’t scare you. You just laughed lightly, surprising him, and allowed him to escort you further into the maze of a building..

How big even was this building? You’d been walking for what felt like hours.

Eventually, he led you off one of the hallways and into one long, dank, dark room where the air was suspiciously moist and only had one dim light. He took you to the cell furthest from the entry, relatively close (but not really) to the light.

Unlocking the door with a key he slid out of his pocket and sliding the iron door that desperately needed oiling over, he was certainly not gentle when sending you into the cell and you went tumbling to the floor, not expecting the harsh shove he gave you.

There was a slight hesitation in his voice as he watched you scramble to your feet, ignoring the sharp pain where you had scraped your palms, but he collected himself quickly.

“This is where you’ll stay until we decide what to do with you,” he said, his voice still as cold as it was before. “You’ll keep silent. Food will be brought to you once a day, and water will be brought three times a day.”

He turned to leave, pulling the door shut over you. He stared at you, eyes boring into yours through the metal bars.

“That is, of course, unless we forget about you.”

With that, he turned to leave and shut the wooden door behind him. Quickly, he wiped the tear that had escaped his eye and pulled himself together before returning to the others.

“Just like you forgot about me.”

It felt like days that you had been stuck in that tiny, dank cell, but it had actually only been a few hours. It was mind-numbingly boring and nothing could have prepared you for the loneliness.

Even if it was Jin’s sharp tone and harsh words, or even Taehyung’s mischievous eyes and weirdly uncomfortable aura, you’d be content. You just couldn’t stand the silence.

It was… Stifling.

You were left to ponder this for another half an hour before the wooden door was opened again, flooding the room with the warm light from the hallway.

You had considered it, and had come up with several theories as to why the building was so tastefully decorated. First, they often had visitors that didn’t know the nature of their work and so they hid it well under money and whatever lies they spewed. Secondly, this was their permanent home and they enjoyed living in the laps of luxury. Finally, one (or perhaps several) of the members had a penchant for interior design.

Footsteps drew closer to your cell, but you didn’t turn to look at them, still thinking hard. Eventually you concluded that you didn’t know enough about any of them to make a correct judgement about them.

You were sat with your back against the bars that made up the front of the cell, staring at the cement and brick wall. It was free from marks and looked like it had even been redecorated recently, the grey paint seeming like it hadn’t had enough time to settle into the pores of the bricks.

“Hey.” A voice made you jump and you turned slightly, before finding that the light shining from behind it made it harder to see any features. He was certainly tall though, that was for definite. “I have your food.”

He crouched down slightly next to a slit in the iron bars that you hadn’t noticed before, gently pushing the tray through it. You shuffled over, still on your ass, to receive the tray that the gang member had brought to you.

“My name is Jungkook, by the way.”

You were silent for a few minutes as you were finally able to see his face. He was disarmingly handsome; you didn’t expect that button nose or little bunny smile to be apparent anywhere, least of all in a gang. He was smiling very gently at you.

“I’m Y/N!” You were eager to slowly push your hand through the gaps in the iron bars and offer him your hand to shake. He was visibly surprised before he shook your hand once and retracted quickly.

“I wish we had met in different circumstances, Y/N. Hyungs are still debating what to do with you, but I thought you must be hungry down here.”

You shrugged.

“I’ve been thinking way too hard, I didn’t really notice that I was hungry.” You turned your gaze down to the dish and you were taken aback to see that it looked surprisingly appealing.

Perhaps they had so much wealth that they couldn’t resist sending you these tiny reminders of it? Maybe you were thinking too deeply into it, but it felt like the elaborate meal they had given to you - their lowly prisoner - was almost a reminder that they had power over you. Wasn’t that true in most capitalist societies? Money meant power?

“Ah, Jin hyung said that might happen.” You blanched at the fact that Seokjin seemingly knew that much about you, but shook it off. You were still adjusting to having that random empty spot in your memories.

“Well, thank you anyway, Jungkook! This looks really good, it’d almost be worth it to be poisoned if it tastes as good as it looks.”

He was immediately floundering. “Oh my God, no, it’s not poisoned, I swear! We want you alive for the time being,” he insisted, face showing almost comical panic. “I think. Besides, if we were to kill you then we wouldn’t do it with poison.”

“That’s comforting, at least.” You said dryly and he forgot himself, sniggering slightly.

“You’re the weirdest prisoner we’ve ever had.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Make of it what you will,” he stood up to his full height again, his face disappearing as the light shining from behind his head made it hard to see again. “I have to go now. I’m leaving on a mission for my hyungs so I won’t see you for a while, but it was nice to meet you at least.”

“You too, Jungkook,” you said, waving him off. “Be safe!”

It was meant as a joke, the idea that you as a prisoner was wishing one of her captors to be safe whilst he committed whatever actions were most likely illegal for the betterment of the gang you were victim of. However, it had the opposite effect of humour on Jungkook, who immediately froze and whirled to face you, a fire in his eyes.

“Don’t say that to me.” he snapped, surprising you.

“Don’t say what? Be safe?”

“Don’t.”

“I was joking, but okay.”

“You shouldn’t say it in that position, Y/N.” he warned.

“Why? Because I’m the one that isn’t safe?”

He didn’t reply, but you just nodded as if he had. You waved him off again, and he was very stiff in his footsteps to the door again, shutting it behind him without another word.

That was a very bizarre interaction, but thankfully, your loneliness was temporarily alleviated and your hunger sated as you scoffed down the food Jungkook had given to you. True to his word, it wasn’t poisoned, but perhaps that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

You didn’t know what they were planning at all, but if it was to kill you, then Jungkook telling you that they would kill you in some other way did nothing but give you a little spike of anxiety that you had been keeping at bay this entire time.

Fuck. This whole situation was shit storm if ever there was one.

You wake up, completely clueless as to where you are, with the prettiest man you had ever seen standing over you. You don’t recognise him, he leaves quickly, and another shockingly good looking man called Taehyung comes in, asks you about this Jin. He, too, leaves, and suddenly you’re discharged and crammed into the back of a black SUV between this Taehyung and the man that you now knew as Jungkook. Now you were here, stuck in this dingy little cell with no idea where you were or who was with you, or even if anybody would notice that you were missing from home. But at least you had great food.

Would anybody even look for you?

Like you said, this entire situation was a shit storm.

With no clock or windows in the little prison, you had no idea what time it was. It could have been midnight for all you knew. Hell, it could have been the end of the world or the start of World War Three and you wouldn’t have known. Although, in retrospect, that could be considered a good thing. At least you were safe from whatever was out there.

Or perhaps you’d rather be out there, safe from whatever was in here.

All of a sudden, two men came barging into the room and striding towards your cell. Quashing down your sudden rack of anxiety, you tried your utmost to spread a smile across your face.

“Taehyung!” you called with a light tone.

“Hey, Y/N!” he said, opening your cell and pulling you out roughly. He led you away as the other man you hadn’t even seen shut the door behind the two of you. “This is Jimin!”

“Hi, Jimin, it’s nice to meet you!” Thankfully, Taehyung’s seemingly constant sunshine attitude was infectious and it wasn’t hard to keep up your facade.

“Uh, yeah, you too.” Jimin was, understandably, perturbed by your happy attitude in such an unfortunate circumstance. He didn’t question it at all as Taehyung led you through the maze of the building.

You tried to ignore the fact that it took much less time to leave the building than it did to get to the cells and you especially ignored the idea you somehow got into your mind that Jin did that to deliberately spend more time with you.

That was completely absurd and ludicrous and ridiculous- But why couldn’t you burst the bubble of hope that grew because of that idea? Maybe he didn’t entirely detest you?

Taehyung was quick to lead you across the compound, a confused Jimin trailing behind you two, and enter into the building you were first in. Taehyung had long legs and he certainly used it, looking like he was sprinting towards the main room. He latched his hand onto your upper arm as soon as the two of you were in sight, guiding you to stand in front of the leader, Namjoon, who looked particularly powerful standing on a platform of the marble steps leading to the large sweeping wooden staircases of the main hall.

You supposed that this building was where all the members resided, and your suspicions were confirmed when you watched Jungkook jog down the stairs, and holding onto a duffle bag thrown over his shoulder. He was quick to leave the room, but as he went he didn’t miss the chance to smack both Taehyung and Jimin on the ass, sending you a quick wink.

You ignored the wink but smiled fondly at his playful attitude with the other members. The three of them were clearly close friends and you were glad that there was at least that happiness in such a bleak situation.

“Y/N,” the leader addressed you, his voice oozing so much power and authority that you were immediately intimidated. “We’ve reached a decision.”

Hopefully, they would let you go. Although that was unlikely, that was your most preferred verdict. That, or just killing you immediately in a hopefully humane way. You were already tired of the cell you were in, and you knew that any more time in there would send your mental health plummeting to the ground. However, as you gazed around the room and noticed a lack of any kind of weapon and only the gradually increasing pressure on your upper arm as Taehyung’s grip got tighter and tighter, you knew that their were neither going to free you, nor kill you.

“You’re going to stay here with us.”

You had expected it, but it was a blow all the same. Your shoulders slumped forwards slightly, and you stared into the eyes of the gang leader that you suddenly came to detest. He hadn’t done anything wrong to you, technically, and he was only doing what he had to in order to protect his little family of delinquents and criminals. Nevertheless, you were now directly involved and it was as vexing as it was terrifying.

“But you won’t just be left in that cell to rot away. Seokjin tells me you’re smart,” he quirked an eyebrow in the direction of the man that was so painfully familiar yet a beautiful stranger. “So we’ll utilise that.”

“We’re initialising her?” Taehyung’s voice rang out, his language informal. His leader clenched his jaw but allowed that disrespect to slide, shaking his head at the question.

“No. We’re going to utilise her, is what I said. Like a tool.”

Jimin stalked forwards, taking you from Taehyung’s grip and leading you closer to Namjoon. The leader stepped towards you, and every single step that he took in your direction sent chills over your body.

This was a powerful man, and a powerful man was a man you did not want to fuck with.

“She’s pretty, admittedly,” he said, beginning to circle you not so different from the way a lion would stalk it’s prey. “I’m not sure if she’ll be effective though.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” an unfamiliar voice said, another man you had never seen before coming through a side door with an apple clutched in his head, throwing it up and down casually.

His long limbs were unnervingly graceful as he slinked across the marble floor to stand next to Namjoon, both of the men staring at you critically. Repeatedly, his apple was sent up into the air and it always returned to his grip, his fingers wrapping around it as if that was their only purpose.

Even Jimin was noticeably tense at the appearance of this man.

“Hoseok,” Namjoon said. “Could we use her as bait?”

Immediately, there was a surge of movement behind you and Seokjin had stormed up to Namjoon in a random act of defiance.

“Bait?” he spat. “You want to use her as bait?”

“Yes.” Namjoon said calmly, not affected by Seokjin’s anger.

“You’re going to put her, untrained and completely clueless, at the heart of all the danger?”

Goosebumps spread across your skin as you finally began to register Namjoon words. Bait? They were going to dress you up and throw you into the dragon’s lair for…. Whatever reason?

You were not overly fond of that idea.

“I’m sure she’ll work well enough,” Hoseok said, a sly grin spreading across his face as you averted your gaze from his. You weren’t entirely sure what it was about him that scared you so much, but everything about him unnerved you. He was difficult to read and surprisingly, the fact that you didn’t know what he was thinking was more terrifying than the gun strapped to Jimin’s hip that grazed against your arm ever so slightly as he shifted. “With a bit of training, and perhaps exercise, she’ll be just as good as all the others were.”

The past tense caused your anxiety to reach an all-time high. Your cheeks flooded with embarrassment at the comments Hoseok made, and you knew that whatever you left this room to was going to be incredibly unpleasant.

“She’s all yours then, Hoseok.” Namjoon said.

No words had ever felt more like a death sentence.

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