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smolla-than-a-bug · 3 years

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you’re definitely flirting with me

—jason todd x villain!reader

second and final part to are you flirting with me. can be read as a stand-alone tho

navi | bat boys m.list | are you flirting with me

content — language, blood, mentions of harassment, mildly suggestive (use of the word ‘daddy’ but ironically)

notes — i know that its literally been years and that i formerly posted a part two to are you flirting with me, but looking back, i didn't like how it turned out. i did find a fun drabble in my drafts with villain!reader as well, so i decided to rewrite it and use it as a continuation. i actually deleted the old parts personally, i prefer this version of the end!

"I'm in."

"Hot. You should be able to see–"

"Nothing?"

Silence.

"Is this your way of telling me you're visually impaired?"

"I will scoop your eyes out in your sleep."

"Please use an ice cream scooper. My eyeballs would fit so well, it would be so satisfying–"

"Harper."

"Okay, okay. What do you mean nothing?"

"By nothing I mean nothing, ball sack. The warehouse is fucking empty."

Frantic rustling of papers and violent knocking of objects could be heard on Roy's end of the line. Jason sighed, going to pinch the bridge of his nose before realizing he had a helmet on.

The whole situation was throwing him off his rhythm — that much was evident. The intel they had collected on the gang of criminals seemed too obvious, too predictable. Jason had his suspicions, but Roy was quick to shut him down. 'Dude, trust me,' he said. Famous last words.

A crackle of static sounded in his earpiece. Roy's voice urgent and choppy before completely dying out. Jason could only attempt to call out to his partner in the hopes of a full response, but his efforts brought no avail. That's another thing that went wrong today.

"Hey, sexy."

What in the fuck.

"Your ass looks great from this angle. The party you're looking for is in a bar on the other side of the city, by the way."

You couldn't actually see him, but he doesn't need to know that. It's just your thing to mess with him, and by the sounds of him cussing you out for hacking into his means of communication, it was working. It was amusing. He kept you entertained.

That was all you had to say to him for now though, so you bid him goodbye. The roaring of his motorcycle over his colorful language directed at you was the last thing you heard before you cut off and allowed his partner to get back on the line.

"Jaybird? You there?"

"Ah, you're back. I'm never trusting you with getting intel again."

"Whatever. Anyway, was that...?"

"Yeah. Y/v/n."

"Hm. I don't know what she's on, but you have no ass like–"

"And yet I have more ass than you, so shut the fuck up, paddle board."

“That... That was a bit harsh, bro.”

Soft gushes of wind blew against your masked face. You shut your eyes, feeling the breeze and relishing in your little moment of peace. Lazily pacing, you hummed a random tune.

Your mischief and cunningness is something your alias was known for. Most often, it's a convenient trait to be able to slip around with ease and get the job done in a snap, but sometimes you get bored. It can be such a drag when nobody tries a confrontation with you. That's why you're so fond of the Red Hood. It's a shame that it's been a while since you've seen him around, so imagine your delight when you feel a familiar presence behind you.

You took a seat at the edge of the building. To anyone, you would've looked like you were having your main character moment, peacefully looking over the city if not for the small pile of bodies rotting away not too far from you. The dried blood on your attire and your fingers no longer irked you in the slightest. It's something you've gotten used to, which lead to your habit of picking the blood under your nails. Red gets annoyed when you do this — all the more reason to entertain your habit in front of him.

You let your legs dangle over the edge without a care. You didn't bother to greet the vigilante, who currently had a gun aimed at your back. Sigh.

“Oh, I do hate the sight of blood.”

“Well then, maybe — just maybe — you shouldn’t kill for a living.”

That got you to turn your head to face him. You cock an eyebrow — doesn’t he kill for a living too? Sure, his victims are usually criminals and thugs while yours are people you’re paid to target, usually business owners and the occasional politician, but you digress. Details. The point is, he kills people too.

A few seconds of staring and prolonging the tension passed, and Jason weighed his options before eventually putting down his gun. He then opted to join you on the ledge.

“So,” he started, “what’s your favorite color?”

Funny.

“Sweetheart, if you thought you’d be able to keep me entertained with small talk... I think I’d rather you shot me.”

You stood up from your spot on the ledge and leaned over the rooftop to examine your altitude. You grin to yourself.

“What are you doing?”

You don’t answer. You want to see something. Instead you turn your body to face Jason and mockingly salute him before leaping off the building, though not before you heard him call out your alias’ name and yell a panicked ‘Wait!’

Immediately after you, Jason followed. You chuckled when you saw him get closer. You enjoyed fooling him around almost as much as you enjoyed fooling around with him.

With no time to waste, he pulled out his grappling hook, yanked your body by the waist, and zipped to the rooftop of the nearest building — one different from the last one you were on.

Jason‘s heaving chest radiated distress.

“You’re fucking insane! You could have died!”

You stood in front of him, arms crossed and your stance relaxed. Nobody would’ve suspected that you literally jumped off a building just a few seconds ago. Aw, you pout, he cares about me.

“Would’ve made your job easier. You know, you heroes are supposed to get rid of the bad guys.”There’s humor in your eyes. Jason knows you’re enjoying this. He hates how much you enjoy this. “So, why’d you save me?”

“Why’d you help me with my mission last time?”

He’s deflecting. Cute.

“Hey, I asked you a question first.” You know he won’t budge til you give him an answer. He’s probably been asking himself that question since it happened. You mentally pout, aww he thinks of me. Sigh. Okay, fine.

“The gang you were after just so happened to have given me a job a little while ago.” You recall some of the gang members attempting to grope you. Some unpleasant memories you’d rather live without. “Pissed me off. Now your turn.”

Why’d you save me?

A pause. He shifted to look to the side. Oh, this is interesting.

“You could have died.” Ah, this again.

“Well, you’ve died,” you remind him. “Not that it really stuck.”

He says your name — your real name. You wonder when he discovered your identity, but then again, you’re not all that surprised. It’s him after all.

He can see your growing smile the longer he refuses to answer your question. He knows you’re already thinking of something, and still opts to ignore your question, allowing you to further indulge in your thoughts. He dreads you enlightening him; he knows it’s coming. Jason could not fathom how one woman could frustrate him so much.

“You like me.” There it is, he thinks. There’s your stupid smirk and your dumb air of arrogance.

“Come on, just admit it, hot shot. You can’t live without me.” Okay, maybe that one’s a bit of a stretch (just a bit), but you stand by it nonetheless.

You grin wide as you approach him. Leaning slightly forward to grab Jason by the collar and pull him down to meet your eyes, you repeat yourself.

“You like me.” Stated with more emphasis, like a significant fact that you try to drill into your head when studying for an exam.

“I’ll shoot you.”

“Please, daddy.”

tags — @iwriteaboutstuff @comicsgirlimagines @httpfandxms

#bat family #batfam #imagine #jason todd #jason todd x reader #bat boys #red hood imagine #the red hood #red hood #red hood x reader #roy harper #arsenal #reader insert #dc comics

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mandoalorian · 3 years

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Obey Me [Dark!Ezra Prospect x F!Reader] SMUT

Summary: After you run out on a trading discussion with other Prospectors, and embarrass Ezra, he is left no choice but to punish you for your bad behaviour.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, dark!Ezra, unprotected p in v, fingering, edging, slapping, spitting, choking, bondage, very rough, degradation kink, dom/sub dynamic.

Word count: 2200>

Author’s Note: I say this every time but I truly do have a hard time writing for Ezra so I’d like to thank my best friend @honeymandos for tolerating my questions and helping me gain a better understanding off the Prospect universe. Also there’s a very high chance we will both work together in expanding this Dark!Ezra type thing in the future so let us know if it’s something you’d be willing to read more of. <3

Masterlist

“Are you mad at me?” you asked Ezra after approximately an hour of silence. Stupid question. He was about five feet ahead of you, trudging through the long grass as he headed back to the tent. He was definitely mad and he hadn’t said a word to you since he dragged you out of the mercenaries’ camp. You’d caused a scene— but it wasn’t your fault.

The mercs were disrespecting you, and Ezra had messed up. They had offered aurlac at a good price, almost too good to be true. You’d illustrated your concerns to Ezra from the get-go but as always, he didn’t care what you thought. He pushed your feelings to one side, choosing to listen to himself and himself only. He never played by anyone else’s rules.

When the mercenaries began to call you, part of you waited for Ezra to intervene. Once upon a time he would’ve, but either obtaining aurlac was too important to him, or he’d been so caught up in his ability to use you and degrade you in your private time, he’d become accepting of others treating you that way too. If that was true, you weren’t happy. You could take care of yourself, but still, part of you wished that Ezra would just defend you when scoundrels and crime syndicates such as the mercenaries tried testing your patience.

Another hour passed by and it irked you that he was giving you the silent treatment. He couldn’t be mad at you for running off. Yeah, he hadn’t secured the aurlac like planned, but you were convinced he wouldn’t have ended up with it anyway. They were too suspicious and they displayed the weirdest cult-like behaviour. If it wasn’t for you trying to escape the camp, who knows what would’ve happened.

But according to Ezra, you had sabotaged his whole plan.

He didn’t say a word to you until you had finally arrived back to base.

“I warned you,” Ezra growled, pushing you into a corner. His sudden application of force made you stumble and knock over a few ornaments and items of clutter that decorated your shared pod. With a series of loud crashing sounds, they fell to the ground, but Ezra seemed completely unfazed. You’d think after hours not complete silence, he would’ve calmed down, but evidently not. “Why do you never listen to me, hm? Why are you so disobedient?” he continued, leaning into you so close his face was only centimeters away from yours. You could feel the way his breath fanned over your ear and the sheer warmth of it was intoxicating. You had missed this. You’d missed this kind of proximity with him. It only made you yearn for more.

His voice wasn’t like the usual sweet melody. It was rasp and abrasive. The comments he made were in the form of little snaps and all his questions were rhetoric, as you later found out. He was being so condescending, talking down to you like you were nothing more than worthless inconvenience. If he spoke to you like this when you had first met, you probably would’ve cried. Ezra could be hurtful - maybe even toxic to a degree - but you had known him long enough to know that he did have genuine care for you. This was illustrated through his possessive nature and the way he always put your safety before his own. You had come to learn that this side of Ezra was like an act, and you only encouraged it.

You swallowed, your gaze flicking to the ground as his large hand caressed your stomach. “I don’t… I uhm… I don’t…” you felt yourself become increasingly more flustered as you tried to desperately search for words. It was like he cast you under a spell. You were always so witty, you and Ezra could go for days fighting over who gets the last word. But right now…

“Aw, cat got your tongue?” Ezra chuckled. But his laugh wasn’t warm and welcoming, it was sinister. It was enough to make your heart slam against your chest. He gave your hip a little pinch before removing his gloves and slapping you across the face. You gasped, your shoulders curling inwards and you felt smaller than ever as you sunk down the wall behind you. Your face stung at his action and you shot him a glare.

“Fuck you.” you spat, rubbing the skin that would be burning red in just a few moments.

“I might just take you up on that.” he snarled, bringing the same hand to the column of your neck and wrapping his fingers around it. He squeezed gently at first, and a pathetic little moan escaped your lips. His honey brown eyes darkened with desire at the noise you made as it went straight to his cock.

“You like it when I choke you, huh?” he cooed, his thumb softly grazing the height of your cheekbone before squeezing your neck again, significantly harder this time. Your eyes snapped shut and you gasped, arching your back and pushing your body into his. The constant shift in his demeanor was getting you riled up as you never knew what to expect from him. Soft delicate touches or another slap to the face. He was the one who got to decide, not you. You knew better than to talk back, but still, where was the fun in that?

“You could do it harder.” you smirked playfully, not even sure why you would put that idea in his head. He scoffed, his mouth parting slightly in disbelief before slapping you again in the exact same place as before. You winced, already feeling your eyes become glazed, but ignoring the painful sensation, you offered him a pout of discontentment. He dabbed his finger in the corner of your eye, wiping away a tear, before dragging the same digit down your sore cheek and across your plush lips.

“I’m sure you could put that pretty little mouth of yours to better use.” Ezra growled, reaching down to unzip his pants and pull out his cock.

Within minutes he had you pinned to the floor, completely naked, your arms and legs spread out. He hovered over you, his aching cock in his hand— hard and heavy. He’d left you with no choice but to submit to him. Your arms had been binded up with rope and he’d tied you to the pipes. You couldn’t free yourself if you tried, and you knew better than to resist him.

“When will you learn your lesson?” Ezra asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow as he squeezed your tit. He ran his thumb over your hardening nipple and gave it a little pinch.

“Never.” you gritted out, only to see Ezra’s smirk grow wider.

He hummed casually before positioning himself in between your legs and pushing his thick length inside of you with absolute no warning. Your body jolted with pleasure and you went to grab him, forgetting that you’d been tied up. Your wrists immediately sprung back to position as the pipes on the walls rattled. “Ezra!” you gasped as he settled inside of you. “Fuck— oh my god Ezra.”

He chuckled darkly, spitting on your face and rubbing his saliva into your raw red cheek. Ezra nudged the curve of his nose against yours. Then, his fingers did a little dance across your skin before he brought them down to your aching cunt, beginning to perform an assault on your clit. He was still buried deep inside you as he rubbed your bundle of nerves in tight little circles. He was a pro at many things, but you couldn’t help but feel that he was the absolute best at navigating your body and knowing the best ways to make you feel good.

“Ezra, please.” you whimpered, squeezing your eyes tight shut. He didn’t like that one bit.

“Look at me.” Ezra demanded but his tone was completely lost on you as you felt yourself begin to see stars. Ezra felt it too— the way your pussy clenched around his cock like a vice, signifying that you were close. You mumbled something incoherent, shaking your head as your thighs began to involuntarily twitch. “Look at me, whore.” Ezra drawled out again, staring at you intently as your face screwed up with pleasure. Sighing upon seeing that you had reverted back to your old disobedient ways, Ezra pulled his hand away from your cunt and tutted.

“No!” you cried out as he deprived you from your orgasm. He was still nestled into you, balls deep, not moving.

“I told you to look at me.” Ezra whispered lowly, like it was the simplest thing in the world. You were too busy getting lost in his touch, you hadn’t even realised his instruction. In that moment you hated him for edging you. He knew fine well you were close, but this was just one of Ezra’s typical ways of taking back control.

“Ezra,” you gritted out. “I need you to fuck me.”

“Now, you don’t get to decide that.” Ezra chastised, shaking his head.

“Ezra— please. Fucking— ngh, please move. Please move.” You chanted.

“You act like a brat all day and then you switch up the second I lay my hand on you… beggin’ for more.” Ezra observed. He brought his finger back up to your lips and pushed the digit into your mouth. “Suck.” he commanded, and you did so, willingly. You weren’t in the mood for messing with him anymore. You just ached for him to fuck his seed into you. You knew that he’d reward your good behaviour.

Once he was satisfied that you had licked your juices clean from him, he pulled his finger away from your lips and smiled. It was the smile you had fallen in love with— the smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle and a dimple appear in the left of his cheek. “Good girl.” he praised before giving your neck a quick squeeze.

You wanted to plead with him— do anything to get him to move, but you knew that the most you could do was just stay quiet and obey him. Obligate to his every demand.

And it worked. You supposed he was struggling to last too, just stilling inside of you. He wanted to move. He wanted to fuck you just as much as you wanted to be fucked by him. He wanted to show you who was the boss and why you should never— ever— embarrass him like you had done earlier in front of the mercenaries.

His pace was fast and brutal, and his hands roughly palmed at your breasts. Ezra’s gaze flicked down from your scrunched up face to your cunt where he fucked you relentlessly. He watched as your pussy swallowed his cock and he praised you for taking him so well. His once articulate nature had been lost amidst the haze of lust that clouded his vision, and he had succumbed to whispering sweet nothings into your ear. You felt so perfect, your soft walls wrapped around him. Only a few lanterns illuminated the tent. Your folds were glistening under the artificial amber light, slick with your arousal.

It wasn’t long before you began to jerk your own hips, meeting his thrusts desperately as his balls slapped against your skin. His large hands grabbed onto your thighs as he steadied you, and this time, it was his eyes that had snapped shut. He was close. You could feel it. His lewd moans filled the confines of the tent and you his cock throbbed inside of you. Just the feeling of him filling you up like that was enough to send you over the edge.

Your walls clamped down around him and he slammed his cock into you one last time, as deep as he could before his ropes of cum spurted inside of you. He choked as his orgasm washed over him, and you felt your walls flutter in delight as his cock pulsed inside of you.

When he pulled out of you, you moaned at the loss of fullness, and Ezra rose to his feet and untied you from the pipes.

“Have you learned your lesson?” he asked, taking your hand and helping you stand.

“For now.” you taunted back, shooting him your most innocent look as if he hadn’t just absolutely railed you. Ezra hummed, ignoring the way his softening cock twitched at the way you fluttered your eyelashes. You had him wrapped around your little finger.

“For now.” he repeated, his tone ominous as he contemplated your words. He pulled open the blankets on the bed and gestured for you to make yourself comfortable. It was the least you deserved after being binded to the floor for the last half an hour. “Rest well, little birdie.” he muttered, stalking around the tent and turning the lanterns off one by one.

“Good night Ezra.”

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akillysheel · 3 years

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TENUOUS. ( 1 )

Summary: Cthugha explains a little more about who he is and why he’s there-- besides the obvious, of course. Warnings: N/A. Notes: Yes, nouns like ‘Balance’ and ‘Universe’ are capitalised on purpose.

THE STRANGER NAVIGATED the precinct as if he’d been there before. He wound his way through tables like a snake, ignoring the curious glances that officers shot him as he passed. As he reached Kuro's office, the Sheriff was almost convinced that he was the one who didn't know his way around the station.

"Oh," the boy mused, head tilted upwards in the direction of his corkboard. It was littered with different coloured post-it notes and twine, Kuro’s neat block letters bold against their garish backdrop. "An upgrade for sure."

"Who are you?" Kuro asked slowly, enunciating every word as he stared at him intensely. Part of him felt that he should recognise him. Perhaps it was the familiarity that he'd been approached with.

"My name is Cthugha. I came from the future," he replied nonchalantly, arms tucked behind his back as he looked over the board. He winced slightly upon seeing one of the names on one of the many sticky tabs. "You never find that one, by the way."

"Excuse me?" Now he felt irked. "That's a real case, y'know. This girl's really missing. That's somebody's daughter."

"Unfortunate," Cthugha said, his tone a fraction softer.

"She ain't fodder fer yer li'l sideshow. She's a real person 'n' she's Raku-knows-where. Y'don't have the right to t'be involvin' her in yer stunt."

The look that Cthugha shot over his shoulder was cold. After a beat of silence: "Her name is Olivia Brannon. She went missing a week ago. You found her things in a field directly adjacent to the subway tunnel-- her dorm keys, student ID and textbooks-- but you have no further leads. You think that she's playing hooky with a boyfriend she's keeping a secret from her overbearing parents-- that she threw her belongings as a student away to pursue a life with him in private-- but he's still in town and hasn't seen her either. You’ve pursued him for questioning but he’s come back clean as a whistle. He even has an iron-clad alibi under his belt! You don't know where else to look, so you trawl through town like a dog sniffing for blood, only to find nothing. The case eventually goes cold." A thin smile shaped his lips as he took in Kuro's stupefied expression, impatient and derisive. "How's that for a stunt, Sheriff Braav?"

"H-How did you--"

"What part of 'the future' do you not understand?"

A thick blanket of silence befell them, and Kuro found himself leaning against the wall for balance. Just five minutes ago, it had been a typical Tuesday morning. Now, it felt as if his world was teetering to one side, his pulse an electrical current that thrummed in each temple. It wasn't easy to bewilder him after all that he'd seen, but this curious stranger had achieved it in a matter of minutes. How else was he supposed to react to being told airtight details about a case that hadn’t been made public knowledge yet?

How is any of this happening? What is happening? None of this is right. Who is this guy?

"I won't waste any time," Cthugha said soberly, moving away from the board. He circled Kuro's desk like a vulture, blue eyes scanning the tabletop with apparent interest. A finger grazed a half-solved rubix cube curiously. "I've come for one very important thing: the Balance is at stake. I need to fix it. You can help me."

"What…?" Kuro blurted stupidly, mind reeling. "What're y'talkin' about?"

"Alright." Cthugha paused to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I'm gonna need ya to sharpen up, detective. I came to you because I know you're smart."

“Surely y’realise how insane this is!” Kuro bit back, finding a foothold in the conversation. “This kid materialises out of nowhere--”

“Not a kid.”

“-- ‘n’ tells me that he’s from the future, ‘n’ that he’s here t’restore the Universe’s Balance--”

“In layman's terms.”

“--’n’ that he needs my help t’do it. Ten minutes ago, I was enjoyin’ a cup’a coffee ‘n’ finishin’ the paperwork fer an open-’n’-shut robbery! This shit is WAY outta my professional league.”

There was a lilt in the conversation-- one in which was stolen by the subtle tilt of Cthugha’s head. There was a strange metaphysical gravity that surrounded him, one that drew in attention like he was sucking it through a straw.

In a small, hopeful voice: “... you have coffee?”

“That’s what y’take away from everythin’ I just said?!”

“I haven’t had a good cup of coffee in months,” murmured Cthugha, scratching his chin pensively. Whatever peril the world was in, it seemed to be irrelevant to him now. “I had some at a diner in a pocket dimension a couple weeks ago. The waitress was lovely but the coffee was…” His teeth came together in the form of a fierce grimace. “... sweet.”

Kuro blinked owlishly, his mind racing. Everything was happening so quickly. He'd had no time to process the other's abrasive introduction, nor the deeper meaning of the things he was saying. The most he knew of the 'Balance' was that it was a cosmic force that even God's wrestled with. On the handful of occasions that it had come up in conversation, Raku was either struggling to maintain it or finding loopholes to avoid doing unsavoury things to appease it. Hardly an educational display.

"How about…" It was a sheepish start, no doubt, the town-hero more than a little out of sorts. He paused to stand up straight again, trying to strengthen his resolve. Get it together. He's scrawny. But so is Raku. He owns the very ground that you stand on. "... I put on a pot of coffee, and we talk more?"

"See, now it feels like you’re meeting me in the middle."

________

A sense of normalcy returned to him as he took a sip of his coffee. The Regular Tuesday vibes are back.

"What's the verdict?" he asked as he watched Cthugha peer into his cup. He found it incredibly odd that somebody who looked so… on-the-cusp-of-adulthood-and-no-older had asked for it black, all but turning his nose up at the offer of sugar and milk.

"Hm..." He hummed thoughtfully, eyes narrowing at the dark abyss before him. Then, he took a sip. Kuro watched as he paused mid-drink, eyes widening slightly. After a moment, he began to gulp it down, continuing until his mug was empty.

After a relieved little exhale: "Refill?"

"Sure…?" the Sheriff said hesitantly, reaching for the pot and filling his mug again. He seemed to slow down for his second helping, really taking in the taste of it.

"Ah… this district gets it. So much flavour," Cthugha praised, looking comfortable in his cross-legged position in Kuro's chair. It's frame dwarfed him, the black leather suiting his businesslike approach. “I’ve found that’s a common trend here. Huros make good food too; organic produce, and lots of spices and herbs.”

"Uh, yeah…" He couldn't focus on the idle chatter. He had too many questions-- too many burning queries-- to ask for anything other than answers to them. "So about why you're here--"

"Well, as you observed, I can tell the future, because I've seen it. I--"

"But how?" Kuro interrupted, unfolding a rickety metal chair and sitting on it. It creaked angrily beneath his weight, his six-and-a-half-foot frame not built for its meagre services. "Who are y'? What are y’? I-- I've met Raku several times over and not even he can mess with time--"

"I'm sort of his foil," Cthugha answered impatiently, his foot tapping against the arm of the chair. "Look, do we have to play Guess Who right now? There're more important things--"

"I need t'know how y'knew about Olivia. I ain’t gonna help y’at all ‘til I know that. How do I know yer trustworthy? How can I be sure my own officers ain’t leakin’ things t’outside sources? I don’t know y’. How could y’know?"

There was a tense pause between them, one that seemed to reverberate throughout the office. Suddenly, Kuro felt incredibly claustrophobic-- as if the sound bouncing off of the walls was drawing closer and closer. He watched as Cthugha sighed, drawing his mug to his lips for a final time before setting it down in his lap.

"Fine. I'll tell you. Once. So you’d better listen good. You just remember-- you asked for this," he warned, tone anything but ceremonious as he wagged a finger at him. "God's can't touch time because that's what we rifters are for, dummy. We govern the fabric of reality. Time's separate to a God's responsibilities, see. Gods maintain districts and concepts; we maintain things relating to the Universe itself. Time and space, namely. Those things're outside of a God's scope."

"So yer… above Raku?"

"I'd argue yes," the rifter said pridefully. "That little chump's only got a district to look after. I've got this entire timeline, and parallel timelines that're born from this timeline." He retrieved his coffee, brought it to his mouth. With his lips against the rim: "... but it doesn't matter. We work together. In tandem. We help each other. The basic idea is that Gods keep their people happy; those happy people are way more likely to stick to their destined paths, which means less problems for rifters. If there is a threat to the peace of the district, the God quells it; if it is a threat to the Balance, I do. We ultimately both serve the same function-- to keep the Universe happy-- but we're at opposite ends of the spectrum."

"We're… pre-determined?"

"Heh. I forgot you're the existential type," Cthugha tittered numbly. "No. Not in the way you're thinking anyway. People live in more of a probability map than they do a script; they have a list of things they could do in any given situation and can select from most of them without any real consequence to the Balance. People have free will because the Universe isn’t overly fragile, get it? The continuum isn’t going to shit itself if you take a detour from your usual lunch order. Every choice births a parallel universe in which the other was made. Most of these parallel universes are benign and don't need to be touched. So basically, you could make any choice and each of them would be as inconsequential to me." At least, if we’re talking about your average choices. “No more about this, okay? It isn’t gonna do you any good. I’m not really supposed to talk about it, but since you were so stubborn...”

He wasn't going to get into the ins and outs of his job, especially not with a simple huro. It wasn’t productive. It wasted time. It could have catastrophic consequences for his mortal mind. And the Balance, above all, was a picky sonuvabitch that Cthugha didn’t understand. Sometimes a store being out of a person's favourite sandwich led to them becoming an angry, tyrannical politician that eventually ended the world. Other times, a person could murder seventeen children in cold blood and the Balance remained unchanged, seeing those seventeen lives as pre-determined losses. He’d stopped asking questions a long time ago-- had learned to accept that, in most instances, what was meant to be was meant to be.

Not when it concerned the end of all life in the Aphanta Region, though.

Kuro looked dizzy. He sank a little further into his seat, his tanky frame looking all but comical in the small fold-up chair. "... 'n' what can I do about any'a this, huh? I'm just a police officer. A damn good one, sure, but I’m no cosmic cop."

"Mm," agreed the time-keeper, a solitary nod offered. "Sure. But you're a police officer in a district that contains a Universal Hazard."

"Universal Hazard…?"

"Sheriff." It was the first time that Cthugha had paused to find the correct words during their conversation. He seemed brazen, largely unconcerned with hurting peoples' feelings, but this appeared to be an exception. Kuro steeled himself, spine turning rigid. "... I've seen the death of this district, then its neighbours, then beyond. It all circles back to one very particular problem: a case you never solve."

“Brannon…?” he asked, feeling his heart leap into his throat.

“Not her. Someone whose case’s gotten so cold it’s practically subzero,” Cthugha murmured, polishing off the last of his coffee with a well-timed swallow. “Remember Mia Vanton?”

“... oh shit.”

Cthugha nodded solemnly. “Yeah. Her.”

#writeblr #fandomless oc story #writing #original story #novel drafts #tenuous ;

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