#right down to the rings on the henchman's hand

[ennaih]

Every Film I Watch In 2023:

262. The Crow (1994) -- fifty-billionth rewatch

part 1 | part 2

[signedkoko]

Ello there Koko! Welcome back! 💙 I'd like to request Sir Pentious with a reader who's basically his little evil henchman/sidekick. I don't see much writing for the bastard but I honestly love him so I'd love to see more! It could be platonic or romantic, either way is good!

Anything At All [Platonic]

In which you are Pentious' assistant, and hes been requested to help the V's. Genderneutral Reader.

Song - The Party Line by Belle and Sebastian

Everyone could use an assistant, especially the overlords of hell, because they had all kinds of important things to do. Menial tasks requiring trust should be left to someone who can act as the right-hand man. Or at least, that was what Pentious always told himself.

None of the other overlords really had a sidekick, assistant, or whatever you choose to call them; they were all servants.

Loyalty was the first thing you had to achieve when finding an assistant, but who could ever be loyal? Everyone down here had something they'd give it all up for. Thus, Pentious was constantly ridiculed for choosing to trust someone who could easily overthrow him given the right opportunity.

What they didn't consider was that you'd give up everything and anything for him, but they didn't need to know that.

Most of what you did was surveillance. While Pentious much preferred to bury himself in strange inventions with grandiose ideals, you handled all the real work that might actually get him the title he so desired. While he trampled on his own reputation, you fixed it and elevated your own.

Pentious was known, but mostly because it was next to yours. Even so, you hated the spotlight because it took it away from him. Pentious was like a mascot; he was perfect at being in the public eye and had the confidence of a lion, except without claws or teeth. It was all so unlike you, so you would rather support him.

Besides, it was at least a little amusing to watch your friend go all out, despite not having all that much to back him up. He was always especially hostile to Alastor, to the point where you knew not to be anywhere near him since it always ended so badly.

It was another cleanup day, and after being totaled by the radio demon, Pentious was as antsy as ever to restore his ship to its prior glory.

" Pentious? Do you ever think about moving on from him? " You'd always make sure to ask after their scuffles, hoping the answer would change.

" Of courssse not! That would be admitting defeat! " 

You sighed, a small laugh hidden in the veiled disappointment. It was still nice to see that he was so optimistic.

Pentious is extremely smart when it comes to weapons, engineering, and the sciences—he was anything and everything but street smart.

You'd prepared a meal for the two of you to share, asking questions that would help you navigate the next plan, and so you had an idea of what you'd need to round up. You loved hearing his next idea—what the new gun would be, how he figured he could defeat one of the strongest overlords of hell, and so on.

Unfortunately, your lunch was interrupted by your phone ringing, which you pulled up to see—the very face of technology himself. Before you could answer, the call started anyway.

" Tch. "

" Heyyy this is Sir whateveryoucallhim's assistant, right? Yeah, nice to meet you. Listen. I have to talk to Pentious. " You couldn't even get a word in before Pentious lept forward, stealing your phone from you and pushing you away.

" Its finally happening! Wait outside!! " Pentious urged you to the door, though the moment you were out, you pressed your ear to the door, trying to catch the conversation.

" Yess of course! It was a sssplendid idea speaking to the likes of I! I'll be on it straight away! " You figured the call ended because there was no more speaking.

When he opened the door, you almost fell forward, catching yourself so as not to make it seem like you'd been trying to listen in. Not like it mattered, because in a moment, Pentious was sharing every detail of the conversation with the excitement of a kid who got unlimited candy.

" Infiltrating the Hazbin Hotel? I don't know... It sounds like he just wants you to do his dirty work. Besides, doesn't Alastor work there? Won't he kick you out or catch on? " 

" Come now; we cannot wassste any time! " He hadn't listened to a word you said; he was already on his way to set course for the hotel.

As worried as you were, maybe the hotel would be kind to Pentious. If all went to hell, you could only hope the princess would have mercy on him.

At the very least, you urged him to wait a day so you could prepare to come along with him and suggested he leave his technology on the ship so as not to alert anyone in the hotel that he may be hostile.

While most may not recognize you, Alastor certainly would, so you were sure to leave any and all weapons back at home. Just in case, right?

While you dressed more cleanly in softer and more welcoming clothes, Pentious didn't change a thing despite your protests. He waltzed right up to the door with no care and was immediately greeted by the princess's significant other shoving a spear in his face.

Stepping forward, you caught the edge of her spear and moved it up, just barely missing Pentious's face. You smiled in warning.

" Sorry for him; he is just so excited to stay at your hotel. As am I. " You looked down at Pentious, signaling for him to get up.

Thankfully, Charlie was quick to grab him and drag him on in, which you followed behind, nervously shuffling past the girl who'd just tried to kill Pentious.

Unfortunately, another wall blocked you, as the one and only pornstar Angeldust was quick to shove the wannabe overlord out the door and into you. 

" Wait wait wait, are we really letting the guy who tried to kill us six hours ago in? And who the fuck are you? " The spider was extremely tall and still managed to tower over Pentious by a fraction.

You opted to stay silent, amused at how Pentious managed to pull himself through this one. Even so, the team did seem interested in your appearance; they'd never seen Pentious with anyone before.

For a moment, Charlie turned to look at Vaggie, and seconds later, the woman seemed to slouch in defeat.

" Whatever, not like hes harmless with or without the way machine. " Pentious pouted at her words, and you chuckled.

" Ooooh yes, yes, yes! Thank you so much! Right this way, you two, it is so exciting to have our first official guests!! " She seemed a lot more focused on Pentious as she pulled him through the corridors, showing off every aspect of the hotel. In a way, she reminded you a lot of Pentious.

You could already tell Pentious was going to be easily distracted from his mission, though before you could remind him, a stark static filled the air.

" Oh! Alastor! Our property manager: You've met our newest guests, Sir Pentious, and-- " 

" Ah yes! Hell's best underground assistant, it is such a pleasure. " Alastor took your hand into both of his, shaking it with a tilted glance." Oh! And the one who ruined my coat! I definitely remember you now. "

Still flabbergasted by the radio demons approach to you, you were frozen in place, Pentious anxiously shifting when Alastor's tone shifted between the two of you.

"Best assistant? You flatter me. " You tried to take the attention back, looking to the princess for some kind of relief.

" This seems like a, uhm- perfect opportunity for a lesson on apologizing! "

Author's Note - This is a fic exchange with @sillypenguincats ! You can read their Alastor x Reader here. Thank you for requesting, working with me, and being so kind 🖤

Word Count - 1,243

[deathbxnny]

hihi, may I request platonic wriothesley hcs with a teen!reader who is the youngest inmate? >:3

Hello there! I absolutely love this idea and am so excited to write it, hehe! I hope you'll like this, Anon!<33

Content: Platonic mentor/student dynamic, fluff, teen reader, some mentions of violence, Reader is troubled, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

Wriothesley couldn't help but raise a brow, when he saw your sentencing for the first time on paper. You were the typical troubled teen, one that caused ruckus and didn't know how to control their anger due to your life spent out on the ruthless streets. But different than most, you had actually gotten yourself into the fortress, despite your young age. Not that it really matters to the court, he figured.

He took it upon himself to greet you first, mainly because he felt like that was safer. He expected some pushback or anger, but instead was met by calm irritation on your part. Other than that, you simply accepted your fate, grimly noting that you've been through worse. The older man just nods, although he oddly feels a soft spot for you, forming rather quickly. Perhaps you remind him too much of himself.

Being the youngest inmate quickly made you rather... popular among the other prisoners, something that ofcourse reached Wriothesley's ears first, who then promptly made sure you worked right under him to keep you safe. He wanted to help you out, perhaps rehabilitate you well enough, that the court perhaps sees how harsh it was and allows you to go free again.

He is patient and makes sure you know that you can open up to him at any time. He eventually jokingly calls himself your mentor, but you know better than to think it was just a simple comment. Because over time, that actually became true. Whether you liked it or not.

To deal with your frustrations and troubles, he decides that a more "healthier" way to let everything out is by training with you in the boxing ring. He teaches you how to fight, how to defend yourself. It comes in handy down here. And at the end of each lesson, he gets you a couple snacks as a reward for doing well, no matter if you actually did or not.

Drinking tea with him often is a daily thing eventually as well. It helps you open up to him and his jokes also start making you laugh from time to time. He also takes the time to inquire if someone or something is bothering you when you seem down. And if he finds out that someone has been hurting or bullying you? Well, perhaps he should reassert his title as a Duke to the troublemakers.

You're also forced to partake in weekly checkups with Sigewinne to make sure that you're physically as healthy as you can be, considering your young age. Wriothesley sees it as essentially and skillfully evades your whining and complaining by promising you more of your favorite snacks. It always works, much to your dismay.

You're always seen standing behind or next to the Duke whenever he's welcoming important guests into the Fortress. And whenever anyone asks who you are, he simply grins and places a hand on your head, before introducing you as his favorite little "right hand henchman". He chuckles at the annoyed roll of your eyes, but doesn't miss the content ghost of a smile on your lips from the corner of his eye.

Alright, I really hope this was fine, Anon! And congrats for being my first request of this year! I haven't written anything in a while and therefore hope I'm not too rusty... but either way, requests are currently open and am excited for the next one's! <33

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Hands off!

The children who wouldn't share their toys are now adults who won't share their henchmen. Specifically the favourite henchman.

Scarecrow: "Don't even think about it. Give them back." Jonathan said coldly, almost glaring at the Riddler. "You're not even using them!" The Riddler rebutted. "The last time I gave you one of mine, you threw a pipe at their head." Jonathan countered, and the Riddler suddenly loudly interrupted. "It was a crowbar, and I threw it at my idiot who just so happened to be next to your idiot and then I beat my idiot to death with said crowbar in front of your idiot! If you're going to act all high and mighty at least get the story right! Besides I won't do that to this one. They've only got their looks..." The Riddler looked you over. "...barely.Its all they can depend on in this world since they don't have a brain." Jonathan turned. "Did your father beat you so much because you couldn't take no for an answer?" He asked dryly. Eyebrows from all directions at this, everyone preparing to run from what could just be hell on earth. "I don't know, Jonathan, did your grandmother abuse you because you're a sociopath?" You held your breath, looking at the nearest exit.

Black Mask: "Pay me, and I'll think about it. Until then, hands off." Roman deadpanned. "As if we'll pay you to sit and consider shit!" Two-Face snapped. "You owe us after our men gave you the numbers for your last little job you did." Harv' added. "I'd hate to think you were being ungrateful." Roman sucked his teeth with a low chuckle, slowly moving towards Two-Face. "Have you forgotten who I am? I ain't gotta be grateful for shit. You're either with me or against me, Harvey. How about you be grateful that I pull the weight in this city and I give you extra wiggle room huh?" Two-Face took out his coin and flipped it before looking for where it landed. "Very well." Harvey replied. "Are they all priced?"It wasn't clear what he was referring to until Roman replied, pointing at you. "That one is. Those ones are not." He gestured to a group of lower ranks thugs. "They'll do." Harvey replied. "Then go right ahead. Consider us even." Roman replied.

Penguin: Roman Sionis came sauntering in, inspecting everyone before his eyes landed on you. He snapped his fingers at you. "You. You'll do." "Not that one." Oswald cut in and Roman slowly turned. "What?" "Pick another one, that one is needed here in the lounge." Oswald replied flatly. "And why is that exactly?" Roman said icily. "Because that one is very good at luring in men like yourself to the lounge. So...pick another." Oswald replied. Roman chuckled after a moment. "I'll give you that, Oswald. They'd be very good at that." Roman's eyes roamed up and down your body behind his black skull mask. When Oswald wasn't looking, Roman beckoned you to him. "Give 'em back, Sionis." "You're a pain in my ass!" Roman ground out in response.

Mad Hatter: "yes, yes, you can borrow one of my rabbits, dear Edward!" Jervis said cheerfully, inspecting one of his mind control hats. As he turned, he noticed the Riddler gesturing to you and Jervis dropped the hat on his seat as he screeched. "NOT THAT ONE!" There was a moment of silence. An uncomfortable stunned silence. Jervis broke it. "I like that one, pick another one." The Riddler couldn't even think of what to say. Jervis picked up his cup of tea, his throat feeling a little scratchy from the sudden scream.

The Riddler: Jonathan had taken you forty five minutes ago claiming the Riddler knew and Jonathan would give you extra money. Now, Jonathan's phone had begun to ring. "Hello?" "GIVE THEM BACK." The Riddler yelled so loud you could hear him on the other side of Jonathan's phone. Impressively or intimidatingly, Jonathan didn't so much as flinch nor did he reply. Edward didn't wait for a response either. "They're mine! Give them back! You didn't even ask!" Horror flooded you and Jonathan smirked. Of course he'd lie to you, even if you would get in the bad books with The Riddler. "My apologies, Edward. We're a little too far away and ... I don't care. I'm busy. Goodbye." "CRANE, I SWEAR-" The Riddler was cut off as Jonathan hung up the phone, looking incredibly smug.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

" Even if the world will or might hate you, I will not as you are my love, so please let me carry your burdens as well as you carry mine we are equal in this marriage "

But with Rook, Jack, Ruggie, Riddle and Azul

Proposal (2) | Crewel Daughter Reader x Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Rook Hunt

Probably a lawsuit 

Or maybe a family reunion

Whatever it is he’s been ostracized and called weird

Something he often gets in passing but this time it just hurts 

For someone so eccentric he’s not exactly open with everyone

Let alone computing his frustration in the normal way

So he’s uncharacteristically is angry 

Firing intensely at multiple targets 

He hardly notices your there until he sees a black and white feathered arrow break through his

“Mon amour? Désolé, I didn’t notice you were there.”

“You? The famous hunter: Rook Hunt, unable to notice me?”

“Well mon amour, you are ethereal.”

He gives his smile but your unconvinced

Firmly removing the bow and arrow from his hand

You push past his hanging locks to hold his face to look at you

Pulling him in to touch your forehead with his while you maintain eye-contact

You recite your vow to him rubbing your manicured thumbs over his cheeks

When you finished he dove into kiss you with you reciprocating

Pulling you against his muscular chest

Letting him run his hands all over your body as you both made out

Eventually, you feel the weight being lifted from you pocket

“Awww you were going to propose?”

“So were you.”

You both pull away to reveal the ring you each brought for one another

Crewel’s not as averse to this then he originally thought

All he’s ever uttered about you has been praise 

And he’s well aware of the hunter’s habit of avenging your character at any opportunity

Violent or otherwise

“The bloodhound is a better choice, though I’m curious how well he’ll fare in the future.”

Jack Howl 

He probably didn’t get the position he wanted most on a team

He’s usually so sure of himself 

Only to find he’s been benched 

But its not because of his skill 

Its the coach

Took one look at you, hearts in his eyes, and a look of disdain for Jack

From then on he’s been trying to sooth his rising anger

He didn’t want to resort to violence, you deserved better

Andit’dbeobviousanyway

“(Y/n) can we talk…?”

He’s not one to sit on something when his mate is willing to listen

“I just hate how he insists upon something so baseless.”

“Oh Jack…”

You say what you say before giving him a kiss on the corner of his lips

Getting on your knee, he’s transcended the pettiness of the coach

It also helps that the coach went missing

Crewel thinks it's okay but he still wishes he ‘wasn’t such a brute’

“It must be the muscles…darling please consider there’s more to look for than extrinsic value. I doubt there’s much really happening upstairs.”

Ruggie Bucci

Probably a failed promotion

Maybe for him taking left over food or they found out he has ‘laugh with me’

He just wants to be able to provide

And not have to rely on your finances

He just wants to be there for you

“I just want see where I can support you, you know?”

“Well there is something you can do for me…”

Getting on your knee and proposing to him has him erupting in a blush

He’s between being angry he didn’t do it first and just beside himself with pride

He’s landed the love of his life and all without using his unique power

He might just burn down an office building for celebration

Crewel isn’t happy but when is he ever

He thinks Ruggie is too much of henchman to be married to you

“You had to pick the smallest one in the litter? Does he know how to be more than a lackey?” 

Riddle Rosehearts

He’s rejected on a major scale

Similar to his overblot incident 

He just goes too far in his willingness for rules

Maybe not as far but to others it feels like it

And right now it feels like everyone’s turned their backs on him

He’s riding in the early morning so he can clear his mind hiseyes before the day starts

You come to the rescue riding your own midnight stallion as you ride up beside him

“Well Roses, how are you feeling?”

He doesn’t fully release his inner thoughts only tightening his hold on the reigns

“You don’t have to tell me anything but I need you to listen.”

Having your horse bow while you present the crimson ring 

He blushes and the nearby forestry alights with flames

Confident he doesn’t step down from his decision

“Off with your heads! For the crime of hostile peer pressure!”

There’s got to be a rule for that ifnothe’llmakeone

Crewel thinks he’s too much of a stick in the mud 

“Isn’t he far too straight-edged? Don’t you think this will hinder your lifestyle, darling? Is he really worth it?”

Azul Ashengrotto

One of his budding locations has some major problems on the opening month

That further is worsened by the competitive restaurant across the street

Who somehow were able to orchestrate a threat made of what looked like blood on their fish tank

But it called Azul out specifically

And while it was cleaned and the rest of the service went smoothly it really shook his self esteem

Leaving you to pick him up

He treats his room like his pot 

Refusing to leave but willing to let you poke your face into

“I have to wonder, (Y/n), am I in over my head? Am I really not cut-out for this? Do I even deserve this!? Do I even deserve you?!”

You cup his head and kiss his beauty mark and then his nose

“Well of course you do, I accepted didn’t I?”

He chuckles and you gleam

“Its also why I asked to put that ring on your finger.”

He looks up at you in confusion

“Huh? Ring?”

“Yes. Ring.”

You hold up his hand with a pearl diamond crusted ring

“Wh-wha-huh–I–ah-ohmygosh!”

“Just say yes darling!”

“Yes yes!”

With a pep in his step he happily let Floyd & Jade pick the events for the bachelor party in exchange for a small favor

The competitor wasn’t a problem after that

Crewel wants to despise him but he respects the hustle

“Anyone who can gain control of an entire school like he has…I guess is worthy enough. But then again a school run by that crow must be breadcrumbs for that sleaze.”

[oliversrarebooks]

Febuwhump Day 1: Helpless

tw: forced drugging, restraints, medical whump, forced brain surgery, implied mind control, stun weapon

It was like hitting a brick wall.

One minute, Toshiro was slamming into henchman after henchman, taking them out at a speed faster than the human mind could comprehend. The next minute, his face was rapidly meeting the floor.

His ears were ringing, his vision blurring as his eyes threatened to close on him. His muscles were weak, and it was if someone had pulled the plug on the nerves connecting his brain to his body. The tile floor was cold against his cheek as he fell to the floor with an embarrassing thump, as gracefully as a sack of potatoes, and equally able to move.

Some kind of stun gun. Stunning... thing. Vibrations. His newly fogged mind tried to reason through the situation. He was in the middle of Dr. Moon's lair, and although he'd cut a wide swath through her armored goons and lab interns, he hadn't spotted the good doctor herself yet. 

Which meant that this was probably all a trap, and he had obligingly raced into it at top speed.

Fuck. Whatever that weapon was had rendered him helpless. Unless he could recover quickly, he'd be screwed.

He struggled to regain his bearings through the dizziness, managing to force his weakened arms to push him up off the floor, when the low, strong vibrations racked his body again and knocked his tenuous grasp on control far away.

"Well, now, I'd call that experiment a rousing success," said a familiar and infuriatingly smug voice. 

Toshiro struggled to focus on the clean white sneakers that stepped in front of his face. Dr. Moon crouched down in front of him, grabbing his chin and directing his blurred gaze into hers. 

"Did you enjoy it as well?"

"Fffff..." Toshiro tried to get his mouth to cooperate enough to at least tell her to fuck off.

"Fantastic? Fabulous? Is that what you're trying to say? I think that's what you're trying to say," she said, nonchalantly snapping thick metal restraints on Toshiro's wrists. 

Oh, this situation was getting better and better, wasn't it? He could probably use his supersonic vibration to break these cuffs, but it would take some time, and that was at full power, which he most certainly was not. He was still stunned enough that he felt like he might pass out at any moment.

"Don't worry, you're in good hands now, my dear little hero," she said, running a hand through his hair. "Katie, can you get my guest his little party favor?"

A young woman in a lab coat looked confused by the request. "Party favor...?"

Dr. Moon sighed. "The IV. I'm talking about the IV I had you prepare."

"Oh, yes!" she said. "Right away, doctor."

"And let's make him more comfortable! Can two of you get him onto the surgical table?"

"Yes, doctor."

IV drugs? Surgical table? Toshiro's blood ran cold. What the hell was she planning? Her experiments had roughed him up many a time, but she'd never done anything like this. 

"Whaaaa..." he slurred pathetically, flopping like a dead fish as a couple of henchmen lifted him onto a padded table. He was still too numb and dazed to fight, and his window of escape seemed to rapidly be coming to a close. As a couple of scrawny scientists effortlessly held him down on the table -- humiliating enough that his embarrassment fought with his growing fear -- Katie returned with a large bag of translucent blue liquid on an IV pole.

"Oh, you're going to just love this, Toshiro," Dr. Moon said, brandishing the IV line's needle with theatrical flair. "You never get enough breaks, do you? I'm about to give you a nice long one."

Toshiro couldn't help his composure breaking slightly. It was one thing to be injured while fighting, or even to be captured and tortured. It was another thing entirely to be rendered unconscious, completely defenseless against whatever the mad scientist wanted to do with him.

"No need to look so upset. This won't hurt at all. You're just going to get very, very sleepy. You'll be just a bit drowsy and slow for the next, oh, let's say the next while. I wouldn't operate any heavy machinery."

She was bringing that IV needle closer to his elbow. He summoned all of his strength to try and pull away, knowing that as soon as he had that drug pumping into his body, it'd all be over. Unfortunately, his muscles were still largely unresponsive from the double stun just a few minutes ago.

Damn it, he had to -- !

The doctor effortlessly got the IV into his vein with a practiced hand, taping it down securely. He looked on in horror as the light blue liquid snaked down the tube and into his arm, willing the drug to somehow stop before it reached him. His arm felt cold and heavy at the injection site as the sedative began to flow freely into his system.

"That should kick in long before you get your bearings from my wonderful stun weapon," she said, stroking his cheek and looking down at him with malicious glee. "And I want to drink every last drop of your fear as you go under."

Toshiro glared as best as he could, testing his powers. Maybe if he could get his supersonic speed working, he could dislodge the IV from his elbow before he absorbed too much of the drug. His fast metabolism meant it took a lot to put him down, anyway.

He was already so groggy from being stunned, and so focused on forcing his uncooperative body to move, that he didn't even notice the buzzing in the back of his skull until it was too late. In seconds, the buzzing transformed into a deep drowsiness, muffling his thoughts like a blanket of fresh-fallen snow, draining him of energy, making his eyelids droop.

"And there it is!" said Dr. Moon with a cackle. "Isn't that the most delicious feeling of helplessness? You look so tired already. Don't fight it, now. Just let my beautiful drugs sing you to sleep. A nice little lullaby..."

Toshiro's efforts to try to shake the IV off had turned into a desperate struggle against the urge to give in and go to sleep. He was so exhausted, and he could feel his mind zoning in and out, his eyelids threatening to close. But he couldn't give in. 

"Don't worry, you'll be sedated, but not entirely unconscious. We can't have you fully under for brain surgery, you know."

The shock of adrenaline forced his eyes back open. Fuck. Anything but that.

"No need to panic, it's not a lobotomy. We don't use ugly words like that here. And my methods are far more precise," she said, as Toshiro's heart raced. "I'm just going to... slow you down. Make you more malleable. Easily influenced, let's say. And at only a small cost to your intelligence."

His half-asleep mind woke up enough to panic. Suddenly, he could move. He felt strength in his arm again, enough strength to try and shake free of the IV line that would be the end of him.

He had to get it out at any cost. If he didn't, when he next woke up, he might be some stupefied henchman to his archnemesis, his faculties cut out and left on the floor of her lair. A fate far worse than death -- at least in death, he'd be remembered as a hero. Not remembered as a drooling, dull-witted minion who used to be a hero, cut down by one of his former comrades.

No, he couldn't allow that.

His powers responded, and he willed his super speed to vibrate his arm hard enough to loosen the tape, to dislodge the needle. As soon as he got rid of the threat of the drug, he could break free of the bonds and escape.

"Oh, dear," said Dr. Moon. "Katie, be a dear and take the fight out of our guest again."

Toshiro's eyes widened just before he felt the stun weapon rumble through his body. His hold over his power slipped, his limbs sinking back onto the table. Disoriented and unable to move, the sedative quickly took hold of him once again.

"There, there." The doctor replaced the tape on the IV line. "Just relax, go to sleep, and it will all be over soon. Poor, helpless hero."

He groaned weakly, Dr. Moon's evil grin fading from sight as his vision tunneled.

"He's almost out. Finish preparation in the operating room," she said over her shoulder, before turning back to him. She leaned in close and whispered in his ear, running a hand through his hair. "If all goes well, you won't be waking up as yourself ever again," she cooed. "You're going to go to sleep, and I'm going to win."

Her voice sounded muffled, from far away, and his tongue was too thick and clumsy to respond back.

"Go to sleep. Just go to sleep..."

----

I've been struggling a bit with writing and the Febuwhump prompts looked delicious, so I decided to do a few of them!

New Bookseller chapter soon, promise.

[iwritewhump]

"don't make me go back" + white knuckles + used as bait + ballroom

day four of whumptember

1008 words

warnings:

~~

Villain paces back and forth in the living room, hands held behind her back. Her entire team sits anxiously in the room with her. Henchman jots down ideas and shows them to Medic, who in turn writes down his ideas to show them. 

Whumpee sits on the couch, a blanket wrapped protectively around himself. He stares at the ground and runs a hand absentmindedly over his scarred shoulder. 

Villain stops and turns to her team, “Ok.” She says, a hand running through her hair. “I have a plan.” 

She looks at Whumpee and he shrinks into the blanket, “Please just let me stay here. I don’t think I’m ready for anything else. It’s only been a month.” 

Medic reaches out to him and puts a hand on his arm, “We’ll keep you safe.” 

Whumpee smiles and shifts uncomfortably, pulling his arm just out of Medic’s reach. 

“We will, though.” Villain says, still looking at Whumpee. “Keep you safe. Trust me, this is the only way we defeat Hero. We’ll go to the ball he’s throwing tonight, cause a whole lot of havoc and make sure he’s never alone with Supervillain.” 

Whumpee stands up and disappears from the living room, the blanket trailing behind him. 

“I’ll go talk to him.” Villain says, already following him down the hallway. “The rest of you: get ready for tonight, we’ll leave in two hours.” 

She knocks on his door and pushes it open. 

“Hey,” She says, poking her head in the room. “Can I come in?” 

Whumpee looks at her from the floor. His eyes are shining with tears and he sniffles, “Don’t make me go back.” 

“Oh,” She breathes, sitting down next to him. She inhales deeply and holds her open hand out to him. He takes it reluctantly and lays his head on her shoulder. “Hero needs to see you tonight.” 

His grip on her hand tightens, turning his knuckles white, “Why do I have to be there? Hero knows what everyone looks like. Medic or Henchman can distract him.” 

“Medic’s staying in the van and Henchman needs to keep an eye on Supervillain.” 

“And why can’t you do it?” Whumpee spits. “Why can’t you keep him busy?” 

Villain deflates a little and sinks further down the wall, “I’m not enough. Hero doesn’t care about me. It has to be you.” 

Whumpee sobs and lifts his head off of Villain’s shoulder. He stands up and brushes himself off before offering a hand to Villain. “Ok, if it’s the only way, I guess I’ll do it.” 

She smiles and takes his hand, letting him help her up. “I’ll get you something to wear.” 

And so that’s how the four of them end up at Hero’s banquet, dressed up finer than most of them ever had been. Whumpee’s arm is linked with Villain’s as they enter the ballroom. 

The gentle classical music spreading from the live band in the back of the room mixed with the roaring chatter of all the attendees sets Whumpee’s nerves on edge, but just as he’d done a dozen times before, he takes a deep breath, relaxes his shoulders and melts into the crowd. Only this time, he’s searching for Hero instead of avoiding him. 

With Villain slipping into a nearby conversation, Whumpee feels at ease being able to hear her polite laughter ringing in his ears. He spots Hero and his entire body freezes. 

“Whumpee!” someone calls from a few feet away. 

He turns and smiles, “Mentor!” running up to her, he throws his arms around her and tucks his chin in the crook of her neck. “What are you doing here?” 

She smiles and pulls back just enough to look at him, “I heard you’ve had an invite to all of Hero’s banquets so I did my best to get an invite. I was getting kinda worried since I haven’t really heard from you, but you’re alright?” 

Whumpee smiles and nods, not quite comfortable with the lie. He was technically doing all right. Better than he’d been, and that’s close enough, isn’t it?

“Good. Do you still…work with Hero?” she smiles and cups his cheeks with her hands. 

Oh right. 

He’d assumed that Hero hadn’t really let it out that he’d left, but for some reason, in the back of his head, he figured that he’d told everyone that something happened and they’d split. 

“No,” Whumpee says, pulling away from her slightly. “We, uh, well. I actually-” A hand grips his shoulder, nails digging into his skin, “He’s been so busy with volunteering that he’s not had much time with me.” 

Whumpee’s blood runs cold. He cowers slightly and the smile he plastered on is slowly chipped away as Hero’s grip on his shoulder tightens. 

“Isn’t that right, dear?” Hero spits. 

Whumpee swallows thickly and nods. He takes a step back so he’s standing right next to Hero. Hero lets his arm hang at his side and nods. 

Whumpee does the same and laughs nervously, “Yeah! I just…love to help the community.” 

“Oh, you always did love to help,” Mentor says with a smile. 

“Well,” Hero says, holding his hand out for her to shake, “It was great to chat, but Whumpee and I should probably make our rounds.” 

Before she can even respond, Hero’s walking away with a hand around Whumpee’s waist, whisking him to the hallway. 

“What the hell are you up to?” He spits, pushing Whumpee against the wall with an arm against his throat. “Aren’t you happy hiding with Villain and her friends?” 

Whumpee closes his eyes, “I’m…” 

“Shut up!” Hero snaps, pushing him harder against the wall. “We’re going to have a good night, you’re going to smile and chat and drink…and when it’s all over you’re going to stay here with me. No going back to Villain, no leaving my side. Do you understand?” 

Whumpee nods. 

Hero lowers his arm and Whumpee gasps, hands on his chest as it heaves. “Come on, link your arm with mine and let’s get back to the party before Villain notices we’re gone.”

~

part two

[viceroywrites]

private show - part two

part two of three - henchman 21 x camstar!reader

ao3 ver here

Gary ends up stumbling upon your profile on a camstar website 24 had mentioned to him. He quickly becomes your most loyal viewer and top tipper.

So why not reward him with a private show?

(Set during Season 3/Pre-Two Ton 21)

18+ only, minors dni.

“Oh my god! Oh my god!” Gary exclaims in shock, holding his laptop in between his thick fingers as he rushes out of his room. He books it down the hall, banging on 24’s door in urgency.

24 sticks his head out, cautious that the Moppets may be on the other side and ready to slam the door but relaxes at the sight of Gary, “I thought you were the Moppets… come in.” He opens the door, allowing Gary to rush inside and shove the screen up to 24’s face.

“Dude, you are not gonna believe this! Look at this message I just got from her!” Gary says in excitement, still in awe of the whole situation.

24 grabs the laptop from Gary’s shaky hands, sitting down on his bed as he reads over the message. His eyes widened before responding, “I told you she’s into you! So you’re gonna take her up on the offer, right?”

“I don’t know… I mean I’d absolutely love to get a private session with her but what if she wants me to turn on my camera? I mean I totally would get that, since there are total creeps in her chat that are probably like 60 year old men.” Gary rambles, pondering his next steps, “I don’t know if I can do it. What if she sees what I look like and gets turned off and totally just blocks me?”

“Well, too late because I already said yes for you.” 24 says with a grin, turning the laptop over to reveal the message he typed out and sent back to you, written eerily how Gary envisioned he might respond. 

‘Oh my god, I totally wasn’t expecting this at all! It would be an honor to get a private session from you.’

Time freezes for Gary as he processes what his best friend has just done, staring between him and the computer screen before snatching the laptop away from 24, “Oh my god, is there an option to unsend?”

“It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity! When will a super hot chick just offer to have cam sex with you, no payment needed?” 24 attempts to rationalize it, placing his hands on Gary’s shoulders.

Before Gary can respond, a notification tone rings through 24’s room and the two huddle around the laptop to read your reply back.

‘You’re such a sweetheart, Viceroy. Just let me know what times and days work best for you, I’m pretty much available the rest of this week. Looking forward to it!’

“You’re welcome,” 24 replies simply, patting Gary’s shoulder, “Also, why are your keys sticky?”

“Well…” Gary trails off, and 24’s face morphs into disgust at the realization of what Gary was just doing prior to him storming into his room.

“Oh dude, gross! Now I have to wash these gloves!” 

-

You felt butterflies in your stomach as you read back Viceroy’s enthusiastic reply, having a brief back and forth to discuss each other’s availability before solidifying a time and day that worked with both of your schedules the following week.

You couldn’t put a finger on what had you so giddy about the prospect of potentially putting a face to the user behind the screen though you tried to level your expectations that he may not even show his face on camera. 

There was something about his charming yet dorky personality that showed through his sporadic comments that had you throwing caution into the wind, offering a private session that normally would cost a hefty price.

As the days began to approach, excitement bubbled in your chest, quite distracted from your day to day routine. In preparation, you had picked out a special set outfit that made you feel the most confident and sexy, and made sure your collection of toys was easily accessible at the edge of your bed in case you got any special requests.

The feeling was mutual as Gary had a pep in his step for the rest of the week, excited but also anxious about potentially having to reveal his face to you. He tried to push the latter feeling aside, though it was difficult to stay distracted considering his henchman duties were pretty much put on hold as the Monarch tried to find a new arch and the Moppets ended up going on the most recent arch.

However, after that arch went south and Gary and 24 joined the Monarch in his raid of the Venture compound against his wife’s wishes, things picked back up as Dr. Mrs the Monarch found an arch that was adjacent enough to Venture that it quelled Monarch’s desires to arch only Venture for now - his brother, JJ.

The days flew by, landing on the day of your scheduled private session. Gary and 24 alongside Henchman 1 were assigned to execute a Dark S7 Maneuver by the Monarch. What Gary had hoped would be a straight-forward mission that would somehow turn out smoothly and with him and 24 unscathed and back at the Cocoon by dinner time turned into a complicated mess with the addition of Henchman 1. Being stranded in the middle of the ocean somewhere near Spider Skull Island with no reception, Gary had no way of letting you know that he would not be making your planned private session.

-

You sat in front of your laptop, an antsy smile spread across your features as your hands fiddled with your outfit, assessing it through the webcam. You had agreed that Viceroy would initiate the call as he had mentioned earlier in the day that he may run a little late due to work. 

A few minutes passed and you shrugged it off.

5 minutes turns into 10.

10 turns into 15.

You bite your lower lip as you try to come up with reasons as to why he may be running late.

15 turns into 20.

Your fingers fly across the keyboard, shooting him a message through the camsite’s chat function. You curse internally, wishing you had another way of contacting him outside of the confines of the website.

20 turns into 30. 

When there is no response to your message, you slowly begin to give up hope. 

‘I mean he did say he might run late.. Maybe I’ll give it another couple minutes.’ 

30 turns into an hour.

You sigh in defeat, deciding to send a message offering to reschedule before shutting the laptop. Part of you thought about taking advantage of the fact that you were already dressed up to do a last minute live show but your ego was a bit bruised and you knew that you would be distracted the entire time.

You get up to change into something more comfortable, and slip back into bed, deciding to scroll on your phone to get your mind off of getting stood up tonight. It proved unsuccessful as your brain attempted to come up with reasons for why he didn’t show up.

Maybe work kept him later?

Maybe something came up after work?

Maybe his power went out?

Each excuse you made for him fell apart as you came to the reasons that revolved around you.

Maybe he didn’t want to do this?

Maybe you pressured him into this?

Maybe he got anxious over the thought of having to show his face and bailed?

You sigh, reaching over to grab your laptop from your bed-side table. You deflate slightly as there is still no response and decide to send one final message before closing the laptop and turning off the lights, hoping that there would be answers awaiting you the next morning.

-

The moment Gary boarded the Cocoon, he ran straight to his room, knowing he was at this point two hours late to the assigned time. By the time he and 24 figured out where Drop Point Alpha 7 was and got picked up by the Cocoon, it was dark outside and way past the time that you two had agreed upon for your private session. Praying for the off-chance that you might still be online, he opens his laptop, logging into his account on the cam site.

To his dismay, he’s greeted with the following messages.

‘Hey, hope everything’s ok! Just wanted to see how much longer you think you’ll be.’

‘It’s getting kinda late and I’m guessing you’re probably not gonna make it since it’s been an hour. Let’s try and reschedule!’

‘Hey, I’m about to knock out for the night but I just wanted to say I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable by suggesting this. I also want you to know you don’t have to show your face on camera if you’re not comfortable and didn’t show up because of that. Let me know if you want to reschedule or if you’d rather not do it at all. I completely understand and hope you’re ok!’

“I can’t believe I screwed this up, now she’s gonna think I’m a total prick!” Gary groans, running his hands over his face before pulling back the hood of his uniform along with the mask in frustration.

He sucks in a deep breath, getting up to change out of his henchman uniform. After shedding his clothes, he sits back in his bed in just his boxers, laptop on his chest as he mulls over all the possible ways he can apologize.

After a few drafts that get rewritten over and over again, Gary finally hits send on his apology, placing his laptop on the side table next to his bed before closing his eyes, hoping that his apology will suffice.

-

You awake the next morning, finally sitting up in bed after about an hour of mindless scrolling. 

The sting from being stood up last night has subsided a bit as you go about your normal routine, getting out of bed, grabbing your laptop from your desk to check some emails, and heading to the kitchen to fix yourself some breakfast. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you carry your meal over to the table, taking a seat before cracking open your laptop.

You had started camming a few years ago after your work at the time had cut your hours, making it difficult to pay rent and bills without it being tight each month. After hearing about a friend’s experiences doing camming on the side, you figured you could try it out for a couple months just to help with your expenses while you searched for a new job.

A few months turned into a year which turned into more and while you were able to find a new job with more security, you liked having the extra money to spend on yourself and loved ones. It was like another job to you - log on, perform for an hour or two, log off. Rinse and repeat.

You rarely offered private sessions - only having done two so far in honor of hitting major milestones in your viewership. Yet you offered to a complete stranger who just started watching you regularly a few months ago. Something about Viceroy made camming feel different - more intimate, less like work. The last few lives you’ve done, your main focus has been what would rile him up versus focusing on appealing to your whole audience.

It was intriguing.

He was intriguing, clearly dorky and a bit awkward but that’s what made him so charming.

After checking your emails, you decide to log into the cam site, curious to see if there was any response from him.

Your jaw dropped, cheeks feeling hot as you’re met with way more text on the screen than you were expecting.

‘Oh my god, I am SO SO SO SO sorry! I feel really bad about keeping you waiting but please know I wasn’t blowing you off on purpose!  I got tied up at work way later than I expected and I didn’t have any signal out where I was so I couldn’t let you know. You didn’t make me uncomfortable at all, I can't believe you even offered because you have all these dudes in your chat every live and you’re like an actual goddess. I was kinda nervous to show my face but it’s totally worth it just to get to talk to you one-on-one! If you’re still up for rescheduling, I’m free all day tomorrow. Again, I’m so sorry and I really hope I can make it up to you. ’

Your lips turn into an amused grin as you read over the text once more, giggling at the sweet and sincere apology. Part of you wondered what work he did that had him going to places with no cell service but you brushed it off as an unimportant detail. Thankful that you have the day off today, you reply right away, the butterflies in your stomach returning.

-

“I mean at least she offered to reschedule. Most dates I’ve had in the past that I had to miss because of henching didn’t even offer, they just ghosted me.” 24 said, reading over the messages from last night before glossing over Gary’s message, “Jeez, could you have laid it on more thick with the apology? An actual goddess?”

Gary snatches his phone away, crossing his arms defensively, “Hey, she is a goddess! Plus you’re the one who said this was a once in a lifetime opportunity!” 

Before 24 can respond, Gary’s phone buzzes to life, a notification popping up that you had replied to his message.

“Oh my god, she replied back!” Gary said with excitement, his fingers typing in his passcode hastily to unlock his phone to read the message.

‘Hey, glad you’re ok and thanks for your apology, it was really sweet and while I don’t think I’m quite goddess level, I appreciate the compliment. :) 

I’m coincidentally off today too, I’m gonna run errands in a bit but does 4 work for you?’

“I told you the goddess compliment was a bit much.” 24 said, reading over his friend’s shoulder to which Gary silenced him with a “Shush!” before typing out an eager reply.

‘It absolutely works for me! I’ll see you then, thanks for giving me another chance.’

Gary pauses before hitting send, looking back at 24, “You’re positive The Monarch doesn’t have anything planned for today?”

“Nope, think the boss is scheming up a new plan to arch Dr. Venture again. Plus today’s Friday, it’s date night for him and his wife so you’re in the clear.” 24 explains.

“Sweet, didn’t want to hit send and then he calls us to do some random reconnaissance in the middle of the day.” Gary huffs, finally sending the message before grinning up at 24, “We’re back in business, dude.”

“You’re not gonna wear your henchman uniform right? Though, she might just think you have a costume kink or something… It could hide your face too if you’re still nervous about that.” 24 points out, the two of them donning their costumes at all times while in the Cocoon.

“God no, I have my normal clothes! Besides, I get to see what she looks like all the time, it’s only fair for me to show what I look like.” Gary admits, having some anxiety about revealing his appearance but he’s certain that your comfort outweighs his discomfort. 

“Who knows, maybe after this private session, she’ll offer for you to come over.. and then you’ll have sex.” 24 says with a grin.

“Oh, don’t get my hopes up! I’m just glad I get another chance at this.” Gary grins, getting up from the chair in his friend’s room, “Well, I’m gonna go get ready, wish me luck!”

“Good luck! Don’t cum too fast, she’ll think it’s super lame!” 24 calls out. 

[the-ghostly-butterfly]

Please, pleassee continue Snippet 1/1.5

I genuinely love it so much 😭😅 (ofc it’s completely fine if you don’t 🫶)

P.s Right hand and Medic are r #1 wingmen

Snippet 1.6

Previous

There was a moment of silence after the admission, as if neither of them could believe the words that'd slipped out of their mouths. Words long, long overdue. A moment of silence was all the two were allowed before a rumbling shook the ground.

The dreamy, faraway expression of shock and disbelief and relief slid of Villain's face in favor of one much more wary. Right Hand entered the room seconds later, chest heaving and out of breath.

"Hero League is at the door."

Villain's brows furrowed. "Which ones?"

"No--like, Hero League. All of them."

Villain's expression locked down. "Tell Guard to keep an eye on Henchman and meet me out by the front gate. Henchman," Villain turned their eyes to the wide-eyed individual beside them, still processing Right Hand's first words. "Stay here and don't do anything stupid."

Without another word, the two rushed off out of Villain's office. Henchman figured better than to follow them, especially when Guard entered the room moments later using an ID card, meaning most of the doors had locked and Headquarters was under lockdown. Henchman heard only faint murmuring above them. Villain's office was situated in the lower level of Headquarters, below ground, as were other important meeting rooms and the location of any records with confidential information.

The front gate, obviously above ground, was situated very close to Villain's office, just on the floor above. Even so, for Henchman to hear anything other than very faint footsteps, meant something was going on.

"I know that look in your eyes, Henchman," Guard warned, "and even if you think you're getting Villain out of trouble with whatever plan you're thinking of, you're only going to make them worry."

"I wasn't going to do anything." Not a complete lie. Guard caught them before they could really form a plan that consisted of something other than pry open the door, make a run for it, and just start swinging.

The two glared at each other until an explosion from above rocked the chandelier hanging above Villain's desk, nearly sending it crashing into the polished wood. Henchman stumbled away from the center of the room and nearly bumped into Guard in their haste, their heart skipping a few beats as they heard yelling coming from upstairs.

They two only had seconds before the door exploded towards them, backed by a flash of fire and heavy smoke. Henchman's head was spinning, hit hard by the front of Guard's armor. Guard rested one arm protectively over Henchman, but from their incoherent mumbling it became all too clear Henchman couldn't rely on them for much more.

Their head was ringing, pressure and a high whining in their ears as their eyes darted from side to side. They remained still for the next couple seconds, scrambling for another plan as more shouts and screams came from the hallway.

Henchman began to scoot away from the door, weak and disoriented as they were. "Henchman!"

Thank you so much! hope it was worth the wait.

Tagging: @nameless-beanie @crow-with-a-typewriter @mylovelyme @21fandom-shipper21 @gooberlad @cassidysinferno (If you wanted to be tagged and weren't please just poke me with a stick)

[finalsquidmissile]

Tell me about Zeth, what's his story? Share as much as you want!

Omg. Buddy. Prepare yourself. This boy is full on 100% a Mary Sue of the highest caliber and I love him for it.

Years before the story starts, Zuko employs both Mai and Ty Lee as double agents as his sister is trying to start a civil war in the Fire Nation. Ty Lee is forced to blow her cover to save Zuko's life, and as a punishment, Azula hunts her down, takes her toddler and leaves her for dead.

She renames the kid Zeth (it was 2007 forgive the cheese), and her and Mai(who kept her cover for Ty Lee's sake) raise him as a potential heir to the throne and basically her #1 henchman. Zeth fully believes the Fire Nation will be better off with Azula on the throne. After Volume 1 she sets him loose after the Gaang's kids (mainly the little freak new Avatar that shattered the cycle)

and after Volume 2, they successfully lead a coup on Zuko and take over the Fire Nation, while capturing Aang, Katara and Zuko. Volume 3 comes around and he's horrified with how much worse the country is after the take over, and sick to his stomach with what Azula did to Aang.

Zeth tries to bring him and Lien together, but it's too late, Aang passes away, hands over the spirit of Raava to his daughter, and they try to escape the palace. He saves the kids' lives, and is now forced to confront the consequences of his actions.

He pledges his loyalty to the crown Prince and the new Avatar, vows to teach Lien firebending and get these kids' their families back. At the end of Volume 3, he and Mai volunteer to start an espionage ring for the crown prince.

Fast forward four years, and he's this guilt ridden, depressed loser just trying to set things right.

I love him.

And I love you for even asking!

[digital-corruption]

Now for the epic conclusion of Infiltrator. You can read Part 1 here.

Infiltrator - Part 2

When MC came around she found herself in a large, cold warehouse space that stank of rot. It was lit by old fluorescent lights, several of which flickered on and off intermittently. It was the furthest thing from the marble empire. Her head pounded worse than a jackhammer and the metallic taste in her mouth was undoubtedly dried blood. She lifted her hand to her head to confirm her worst fear - the earphone had been removed. She was on her own.

“How stupid do you have to be?” an older male voice interrupted her awakening and walked over to MC sitting on the ground. She looked up and recognised him immediately as the CEO, Harold Bowles. Glancing around, there was at least a dozen henchmen watching from the sidelines. “Did you really think you get away with something so harebrained?”

“Why not? You get away with it every day,” she muttered.

“Yes, but I have the resources of a multinational corporation. That’s not to mention my friends in the capital,” Harold grinned.

“Ah, but I have friends in high places!” she said loudly.

“Um, ok, but I have friends in higher places,” Harold mocked her.

“One of the things I learned working this job is that I’m never alone!” she announced even louder.

“Are you talking to us or…?” one of the henchman asked.

“Oh, did you think he can hear you? Your little friend in your ear?” Harold gestured. “Yeah, he can’t hear you. Not anymore.”

“Then… am I…” MC gasped.

“That’s right, you’re done for,” he confirmed. “But either we make this quick and painless, or my friends here drag this out. Who are you working for?”

“Working for? I work for myself!” she snapped.

“You can’t be serious,” Harold shook his head.

“Maybe you heard of my group. Mystery Investigators. Inc,” MC smiled. 

“No, I can definitely say I haven’t. I would remember a stupid name like that,” he laughed.

“Hey! You don’t see me making fun of your name, Hairy Balls!” she objected.

“It’s Bowles!” he sneered.

“Well, at any rate, you should take care to remember us. We’ll be the ones to take you down,” she beamed.

“You and your little friend?” he burst out laughing. “Oh, I get it. Lau’s mother put you up to this, didn’t she? That woman would not give it up.”

“You did kill her son,” MC glared.

“I did no such thing,” he shook his head. “What I do understand is that Lau was snooping in areas he wasn’t meant to be, and found himself in trouble because of it. Kind of like you. Admit it. You have nothing on me.”

“My team right now is putting together a rock-solid case against you and will destroy you,” she said confidently.

“Nice bluff,” Harold chuckled. “Get rid of her, then locate her friend and get rid of him too.”

“Yes sir,” the lead henchman nodded.

“Oh, could you be more specific?” MC spoke up.

“What are you talking about?” Harold asked confused.

“Get rid of me like drop me back to my place or…?” she shrugged.

Harry hesitated for a moment as he thought it was pretty clear, “Kill you and dump your body, of course.”

“Won’t that be suspicious?” she pointed out.

“We have ways of making it look self-inflicted,” the lead henchman answered.

“Oh, just like Lau’s friend, who also mysteriously died,” MC concluded.

“One of my best works,” the lead henchman grinned.

“Shut up, you idiot,” Harold glared at him.

“Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for clearing that up for us,” she smiled.

“What are you-“ he began, but was interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing.

Harold pulled at his phone to check who was calling, but when he saw it was an unknown number, he rejected the call and put the phone back into the inside pocket of his coat. Just as he finished readjusting his coat, the phone started ringing again. He pulled it out just enough to check that it was still the unknown number and rejected the call again.

“I would really answer that if I were you,” MC commented.

“I don’t take calls from unknown numbers,” he shook his head.

Suddenly the lead henchman’s phone started ringing. Harold turned to watch him check his phone and saw it was also an unknown number.

“Don’t answer that!” Harold yelled. “It’s going to be her stupid friend. We’re not negotiating!”

The lead henchman rejected the call and started to put his phone back away, but it started ringing again almost immediately. Before he could reject it again, another henchman’s phone started ringing. Then another. Then another. Soon, the entire warehouse was full of the sound of ringtones. The henchmen all desperately tried to reject the calls, but their phones would not respond. Harold’s phone started ringing again, but this time he was so freaked out he answered it. All of the phones responded to the call acceptance. All of the phones’ screens changed to a red eye on a black ground.

<<Harold Bowles, I will give you one chance to release that woman. Failure to do so will have severe repercussions for you and your friends.>> the unmistakeable distorted voice echoed through the room as it came through all of the phones’ speakerphones. <<You thought that by destroying her phone and earpiece that you would be untouchable in that location. You’re not. I already have you surrounded.>>

“You’re bluffing,” Harold shook his head in disbelief.

<<Are you sure that is a risk you want to take?>> Jake questioned.

Suddenly all of the phones changed to a live feed, each showing a different view – each showing their owner from above. They all looked up in unison and saw a mass of drones hovering above in the upper rafters of the warehouse, at least double their numbers.

“I told you I have friends in high places,” MC chortled.

“They’re just machines!” Harold yelled at the henchman that started to freak out. “Shoot them and then kill the girl!”

As the henchmen started to take out their sidearms, the drones fired tranquiliser darts at their targets. One by one the henchmen fell like dominoes until only Harold was standing. MC stood up, tilting her head back to look down at Harold. A single drone lifted from behind her and floated over her shoulder. She put into her ear a new earphone that the drone had just delivered to her while she held a new phone in the other hand.

“It’s over, Harry,” she grinned.

“What are you going to do? Kill me? You will never get away with it!” Harold said confidently. “Even in my death my corporation with hunt you down!”

“Oh, Harry, we’re not going to stoop to your level,” she laughed. “We don’t have to. You’re already given us everything we need.”

MC held up her new phone, showing Harold a live news feed. The news broadcast showed them just a few minutes earlier when Harold ordered the hit on MC and the henchman then confirmed that they were responsible for the death of Lau’s friend.

“Th-that’s fake news!” he yelled.

<<That will be for a jury to decide,>> Jake declared. <<Surrender now – there is no escape.>>

Darting his eyes to the side, Harold spotted a discarded gun from one of the henchman and dived for it. Before he even had his finger on the safety, a drone from above shot a tranquiliser dart at Harold. He fought the drug in his system and pointed the handgun at MC. Just as the shot rang out, the drone from over her shoulder flew in front of MC, shielding her from the gunshot. While Harold collapsed unconscious on the ground, MC screamed and fell to her knees, mourning the fallen drone.

“Why? Why!?” she sobbed. “Oh the humanity!”

<<Are you done?>> Jake spoke through the earpiece in her ear without the distortion.

“How can you say that? He just saved my life!” she continued.

<<MC. It’s a drone. I have dozens more of them,>> he reminded her.

“Drones have feelings too you know!” she exclaimed. “It’s one of your babies and that makes it a piece of you!”

The moment was interrupted by the sound of approaching police sirens. MC quickly grabbed the fallen drone and ran for the exit.

“Well, this has been another thrilling case!” MC teased.

<<MC…!>> Jake fought yelling at her for her carelessness and lying to him. He was having a hard time putting his anger into words that made sense.

However, just as she reached for the door, it opened and revealed a familiar face.

“Eric!?” MC gasped.

“MC?” Eric jumped at the sight of the fallen bodies. “What the hell happened here!?”

<<Eric, you’re late!>> Jake sneered through MC’s phone with the voice distortion on.

“I told you it was my night off!” Eric defended as he walked further into the warehouse to check the bodies.

“Awww, babe, you were worried about me?” MC giggled. “Hey, how did you find me? I thought the drones’ batteries weren’t powerful enough for tracking vehicles across the city.”

<<They’re not,>> Jake answered vaguely.

“You don’t know?” Eric questioned, glancing over shoulder.

<<Eric!>> Jake hissed.

“Know what?” MC frowned.

“He has a tracker on you,” Eric smirked.

“He what!?” MC snapped.

<<MC, please, can we talk about this later?>> Jake pleaded through the earpiece rather than the phone.

“You put a tracker on me!?” she exclaimed loudly.

<<After today, how can you blame me?>> he asked defensively. <<When you have someone that keeps diving headfirst into trouble alone, you put a tracker on them!>>

“Yeah, ok, can you two leave this for later? I have some more pressing questions for you both,” Eric interrupted. 

“Mmmm, I think I left my oven on,” MC lied.

<<You definitely did. I can see it now,>> Jake confirmed through her phone again with the distortion on.

“Jake, if you can see it is on, then you can turn it off,” Eric pointed out. “Please, don’t do this again. Don’t leave me with a scene like this and run off!”

“But the oven, he can’t turn it off. I have to do it for him,” MC explained. “So, toodeloo!”

Before Eric could utter another word, MC darted through the open doorway and ran across the parking lot outside the building to the front gate. If the fence around the property had not been barbed, she would’ve just jumped the fence. As it was, she hardly reached the alley before the police cars came streaming down the road. They stopped abruptly in front of the warehouse and cops jumped out of their cars. MC peeked around the corner to watch as Eric greeted the cops and issued orders. Confident that no one saw her, she turned away and leaned her back against the brick wall. Closing her eyes, she sighed with relief. A slight change of breeze alerted her to another presence in the alley. She opened her eyes and saw a hooded man standing before her.

“Hi!” she smiled.

“Don’t ‘hi’ me,” Jake glared from underneath his hood. “I am still mad at you.”

“And I am mad at you,” she pointed out.

“For what?” he asked confused.

“The tracker!” she reminded him.

“You’re really that upset over it?” he laughed. “Who is the one who said ‘I’ve got to go to a family thing! I will be back tomorrow!’ What would you have done if I had not broken into the mainframe?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Probably failed to get past security?”

“That’s true. Maybe I should’ve let you fail,” he looked away in anger.

MC’s stomach growled, making it clear to both of them just how hungry she was. “Chinese?” she smirked.

“Yes, sure,” Jake couldn’t help but laugh.

MC held out the broken drone, still in her clutches. “Can you fix him?”

Jake sighed, then took a quick look at the broken drone in the dim light of the night, “I don’t know. Maybe?” MC sobbed again, making Jake uncomfortable. “I’ll do what I can, ok?”

“You have to do better than that,” MC frowned.

“If the bullet shattered the board, I might as well get a new drone,” he frowned.

“Fix him!” MC insisted.

“Ok, fine! I’ll fix him!” he conceded.

“Good,” she nodded in victory. “And tell me where the tracker is!”

“No,” he laughed at her persistence.

“Well fine, maybe I won’t tell you the truth of where I’m going then,” she declared.

“That makes no sense,” he shook his head.

“What would be the fun if I ruined the surprise every time?” she reasoned.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Jake leaned his forehead down to rest against MC’s.

“But at least it won’t be boring,” she smirked.

“It’s never boring with you around,” he smiled. “But I won’t be taking my eyes off of you for a while.”

“Like you can stop me,” she teased.

“Don’t make me tie you down,” he narrowed his eyes.

“You say like that’s a bad thing,” she bit her lip suggestively.

“Um, maybe we should get out of here,” he gulped and scratched the back of his neck.

“Yeah, ok, but I have no idea where we are so please lead the way,” she giggled.

Jake smiled and took her hand, “Sure, let’s go.”

The End

[wrestlingisfake]

so... i need to know more about the House of Torture. any idea where to start?

I think the best thing I can do is run down the origins and history of the group, and link to some shows on NJPW world if you want to check them out for more information. Then I'll try to sum up their general vibe, and why Jack Perry fits into their faction.

House of Torture got its start as a part of Bullet Club, back in 2020. I think technically they're still a subgroup of Bullet Club, but the two factions don't have much to do with one another these days.

The thing about New Japan in 2020 is that the pandemic really screwed up their schedule, and the international travel restrictions left a lot of their non-Japanese roster stuck outside the country. Bullet Club was especially hit hard, since it's generally been an "evil foreigner" group. So New Japan needed to make a new star and also prop up Bullet Club with some new, domestic members.

First, EVIL turned on Los Ingobernables de Japon. He won the New Japan Cup with help from Bullet Club's Gedo (July 11, 2020). Then he beat LIJ's leader, Tetsuya Naito, at Dominion (July 12) to win the IWGP heavyweight and intercontinental titles. Bullet Club never played fair, but there was absolutely no subtlety about Evil's heel act. That title win featured a ton of run-ins, low-blows, you name it. Dick Togo, a 50-something legend from the Japanese indies, debuted to join the group as Evil's personal henchman.

Yujiro Takahashi quickly became associated with Evil and Togo, simply because there weren't a lot of other Bullet Club guys left in the country to team with. Yujiro joined Bullet Club way back in 2014, and the pimp gimmick he developed back then hasn't changed much over the years. The most notable thing about him is that he saunters to the ring with a professional go-go dancer named Pieter, but unfortunately she hasn't been brought in much since the pandemic.

Evil's big title reign didn't last long, and pundits generally considered it a failure. He only managed to get one successful title defense, against his former LIJ buddy Hiromu Takahashi at Sengoku Lord (July 25, 2020). After that, Naito won back his two belts at Summer Struggle (August 29). Evil went back down to the midcard.

The final piece of the puzzle came a year later, after SHO turned on his tag team partner YOH. They had a grudge match at Wrestle Grand Slam (September 4, 2021). Right after the match, Evil, Dick Togo, and Yujiro came to the ring wearing "House of Torture" shirts, and gave one to him. From that point on, the four men were clearly distinct from Bullet Club, even if they never officially broke away.

The defining feature of House of Torture is that they have absolutely no redeeming virtues. The rest of Bullet Club cheats and takes cheap shots, but they tend to be kind of cool and sometimes they've got a good sense of humor. House of Torture doesn't want to entertain you. They don't even want to be entertaining villains. Sometimes I think they care more about frustrating the fans than they do about winning matches. Hence the name: We're the ones being tortured.

If I had to recommend a specific storyline to understand House of Torture, I guess I'd go with their feud with Just 5 Guys in the 2023 Destruction tour. J5G had a 5-to-4 advantage against the heels, but that still could keep them from pulling their bullshit heel tactics, because on September 24 House of Torture just convinced Yoshinobu Kanemaru to switch sides! Every time the good guys think they've got a fair playing field, Evil finds a new way to skew it.

A major criticism of House of Torture has been Sho's performance. Sho is genuinely a great wrestler, but ever since he turned heel he's become this craven psycho whose best move is to hit a guy with a wrench. Half of Sho's matches these days involve trying to get out of the match, by faking an injury or claiming his opponent forfeited when he's really tied up backstage. On the other hand, Sho's on-screen personality as a babyface was pretty bland, so I can't deny that being in House of Torture has helped his character development. I'm hoping that also benefits Ren Narita (who joined in December 2023).

Jack Perry should fit right in with House of Torture. His feud with HOOK last year was textbook cheap-heat heel work. If Hook had been feuding with Evil or Sho, I think they would've pulled a lot of the same shenanigans. The whole "scapegoat" thing fits in well too, and not just because the goat-head thing is spooky-looking. Jack has gone from not caring about the fans to feeding off of their scorn and ruining matches for the sake of spite. I don't even personally blame him for what happened with CM Punk, but his character wants me to resent him for it so he can revel in that hatred. That's the kind of attitude Evil, Sho, Ren Narita, Dick Togo, Yujiro Takahashi, and Yoshinobu Kanemaru can relate to.

[shywhumpauthor]

Day Off - Part Two

Part One

Back by popular demand

Cw: noncon touch, abuse of power, mistreatment in a workplace setting, past torture, unrequited crush, humiliation, dehumanization, implied upcoming torture, injuries, exhaustion, overworking

“Don’t worry, pet, I’ll make sure you get the day off tomorrow.”

Hero was many things, but they weren’t a liar. Henchman thought back bitterly, biting the inside of their cheek as they glared at the folders on their desk, their laptop open to their work email which was flooded with over thirty new messages.

“I’ll even be generous.”

Henchman wasn’t sure what they said to Villain, and honestly Henchman was sure that they didn’t have to say much—a few smooth words from Hero and the criminal complied to almost any desire of theirs. Expensive jewelry, some bought with stolen funds and others snatched right out of the case from the lavish boutiques that sold them. Rings adorned the Hero’s fingers, collars of diamonds around their throat that they wore for no reason other than to flaunt what they owned. It only took a minute, after they had slipped into Villain’s office, before Henchman received the text to take the next two days off.

Whatever it was, they weren’t going to protest. That evening, after they had worked up the energy and the will to practically drag themself out of the van and back to their room, they had all but collapsed into their bunk, not bothering to change out of their torn, bloody clothes, or even pull back the sheets. They were so exhausted, tears and blood dried alike on their face.

It fucking figured.

Henchman wasn’t sure why they hadn’t realized it before. How it had never become apparent until that moment. How they hadn’t heard of Hero’s ability, hadn’t witnessed it during any fights or just in freaking general. The more they thought back, the more it made sense, though. All of the times they knew they wounded Hero in a fight, only for them to be chasing them across the rooftops later that same day, fine.

“Let’s keep this between you and I for now, alright pet? Villain doesn’t need to know just yet.”

Of fucking course the hero would have healing powers. Every slash, every stab, all Hero had to do was drag their fingers across the fractured skin and it would mend, which was about the time Henchman lost consciousness. It hurt, holy hell it had hurt, worse than it had when the wounds were inflicted.

And it barely left a scar. Slightly raised across their skin, like a wound inflicted years before, given the time to heal and settle.

Hero had been an asshole, though. Henchman didn’t know there were stages of healing abilities—as far as they thought, when they heal something it’s just healed. At least that’s how villain’s medic worked. Hero, though, left it in stages. They healed everything against their face, their neck and their hands, leaving only faded scars in their wake. Their collar bones, the rest of their arms, and the very top of their chest, they left some bruises and scrapes, healing the worst but leaving all else.

Their torso and abdomen, Hero didn’t touch—except for the gash they sliced straight across Henchman’s stomach, which went a bit deeper than expected and they quickly had to mend lest Henchman’s internal organs became external. Everything else was left.

Everything else. Down to the deep lines carved in their side, about halfway above where their elbow touched their midriff to their shoulder, the initials dripping blood despite being together just under the size of Henchman’s pinky finger.

“Now, Henchman, you’ll keep your mouth shut, won’t you? I’ve sentenced criminals to life for less than what you’ve done, if the agency were to somehow get their hands on you, oh my pet, you’ll be in for one hell of a time.”

Yeah. A hell of a time alright.

Henchman flipped through the file, eyes barely skimming over the words, flicking across the diagrams without comprehending a single letter. Part of them nagged that they should be paying better attention—this was Villain’s newest plan, after all. They couldn’t risk missing something and potentially compromising the mission.

They’d check it again later, when their head wasn’t pounding and their ribs felt like they were going to snap with each breath. While Henchman knew Hero wouldn’t turn Villain in themself, a direct infiltration into the agency’s headquarters was beyond risky.

They set the folder aside, scribbling a note to themself on a post it and sticking it onto the front. Their words looked more like scribbles than strings of letters, Henchman’s hands had been shaking a lot recently. Sometimes they could barely focus enough to keep the tip of the pen on the page.

Next… next… Henchman squinted at the front of the next file, and leaned in slightly, but the words refused to focus in their vision so they slumped back in their desk chair, setting down the pen with enough force to make a small clatter, a hand rubbing at their eyes.

Hell, they were a mess.

Yesterday they had gotten nothing done. They wished that was an exaggeration, but it wasn’t. They sat at their desk and stared at their laptop waiting for the ache in their bones to settle enough to allow them to focus. It hadn’t.

And all Villain did to check in was text them, a simple “you up for working?” That was it. Henchman had looked at the text for over an hour, waiting for a follow-up “are you alright?” or “how’re you doing?” or even a “why’d you need days off?”, but they had set their hopes too high.

They saw Villain the day before. In the hall, walking back to their bunk, and all the criminal had offered them was a nod and a small smile. The same small smile that made Henchman lose focus every time the Villain looked their way. They always thought it was too kind for the face of a thief, a killer.

Once Villain passed, they had to glance back over their shoulder to make sure there was no one else in the hall. Confirming that the smile had been for them.

And they knew why they didn’t quit.

A knock on the door drew Henchman’s attention back to their small office, and they twisted around in their chair to face the door as it opened. A small flicker of hope sparked in their chest, anticipation dancing across their face as they expected the kind eyes and the soft smile that was about to enter. Only Villain ever interrupted them during the hour—the other henchmen knew to save all regards until either ten, twelve, two, or six. Urgent situations were a different matter, but this knock was much too gentle to be of great importance.

The warmth in their chest, the soft heat of the embers quickly turned to cold shards.

Henchman was out of their seat in a moment, their movements driven off of instinct alone as their mind seemed to sputter to a stop. They weren’t sure what they were going to do, whether they were going to fight or flee or cower to the corner. They never got to find out, either. All Hero had to do was take a single step forwards and they had squared up to them, their boots inches away from Henchman’s own feet as they placed a single hand against Henchman’s chest and shoved them back into their seat.

“All that looks important, doesn’t it?” Hero tilted their head, glancing over Henchman’s shoulder to the documents spread across their desk. “It doesn’t look like you can afford to get distracted, now, can you?”

With their other hand, Hero reached behind them and pushed the door closed.

Henchman wasn’t sure what to say that would spare them from whatever Hero’s intentions were, so instead of biting their tongue and biding their time, words spilled from their lips, a disorganized mess of emotions bleeding into half formulated thoughts.

“No, hero- yeah, I, I need to get these done—Villain, Villain needs me to get these done by the end of the day-”

“Do they now?” Was all Hero hummed, their hand still pressed to Henchman’s chest, keeping them down despite Henchman’s lack of struggle. They didn’t miss the small stutter in their breath as Henchman began to process just how close the hero’s hand was to their neck, a single finger brushing over the high neckline of their uniform to trace the unmarked skin just above their sternum. As untouched as it seemed, Henchman shuddered as the memory of a knife dragging across their throat seemed to overlap the present.

“Hero, please. Just- just leave me alone. Not now, I- I need to get this done, for- for Villain,” Henchman was silenced a moment later as Hero’s hand suddenly drew back, them glancing back towards the door.

Henchman wasn’t given a moment of relief, before Hero’s gaze was back on them, a grin twisting across their lips. They reached around Henchman and snatched the first file they got their hands on, a few loose papers scattering to the ground as they skimmed over the open page. Henchman couldn’t help the clench in their jaw, all the time they had spent organizing everything perfectly so that Villain wouldn’t have any difficulties navigating their reports.

“Planning a heist, I see…” Hero clicked their tongue, a soft hissing sound of undistinguishable emotion. “You know it’s my job to prevent these kinds of things, don’t you?”

Henchman felt trapped. The arms of their chair keeping them boxed in, Hero’s legs barely inches from their own, one of them almost sticking between Henchman’s knees, their presence nearly suffocating. Something twisted Henchman’s stomach into a tight knot, the overwhelming sense of overpowering crushing them beneath the Hero’s strong stare.

“It’s Villain- Villain’s plan, Hero, I need to finish this-”

“Villain’s plan, you say? I wonder how your boss would like knowing you just ratted them out to a city official…”

The file fell carelessly from Hero’s hand, scattering across the office floor in such a perfectly chaotic manner it seemed like it was pulled from some iconic scene in whatever movie. Henchman bit their tongue, though they weren’t sure whether to hold back a curse or a cry. Literal hours had gone into organizing that, making sure the plan was clearly comprehensible and laid out in a careful order.

“Stop- Hero, please, just let me finish this,” Henchman felt a flicker of heat in their chest, creeping up their neck but they didn’t let the humiliation become apparent in their face. Or at least they tried not to. They didn’t need to hand Hero another means for torment.

Not that Hero seemed short of those.

“Oh, pet, are hoping Villain will give you a treat for your obedience? Maybe if you roll over, they’ll toss you a bone.”

The taunt was childish, insolent, but Henchman couldn’t fight the burning as it crawled across their cheeks, flushing all the way to the tips of their ears. Hero’s grin was devilish. It was exactly the reaction they had been looking for, and Henchman had all but handed it to them on a fucking platter. Goddamn it, they were really just as fucking pathetic as Hero said.

“I wonder, do you do tricks for anyone else, or is it just Villain? I didn’t get the chance to test that out the other day,” Hero continued, now that their hands were free of the file able to lean forwards and grip either of the armrests, drawing in close to Henchman.

“Hero- stop.” Henchman’s voice broke into something small, any shred of authority they managed to muster in their tone spilling through the cracks, splintering like a branch under increasing weight, inching towards the moment where it would become unbearable and the limb would simply shatter. “Leave me alone.”

Hero’s face was inches from their own, even as Henchman retreated, shrinking into the chair. For a moment, instinct urged them to kick out, but the stirring thoughts hesitated their actions. Villain made one thing clear on missions—they weren’t to hurt Hero. While Henchman doubted a blow would do little more than annoy the city’s protector, they were sure Hero would twist the situation beyond the bounds of reason that fueled them now.

Hero must have seen the twitch in their leg, muscles itching to lash out and knock the other away, because they moved their foot a few inches, and the heel of their boot was digging against Henchman’s shoe as Hero shifted their weight. Henchman felt the touch like electricity, prickling their skin through their unostentatious uniform, Hero’s other leg shifting to shadow Henchman’s knee, shins touching along the side as Hero smirked.

The same static stung across their legs, up their bones throughout their body. A new kind of fire kindled in their chest, but these flames were as cold as stone, dropping to their stomach. Their hands clenched, itching to push away but there was nowhere they could go. Their ribs a cage around their lungs, closing in and sealing their breath in an unyielding embrace.

There was something in Hero’s eyes. A look, a glint of something darker than the industrial office light’s unrelenting white glare.

“Here’s one trick I know you can do,” Hero’s voice was pulled with a cruel delight, dancing along each syllable a calm that Henchman’s growing panic strictly contrasted.

“Beg.”

————————————————

Tag list: @pickleking8 @zillobeastrevival @urmyhopeeee @d-cs @fluereaux @roblingoblin285

And like the 5 other anons who requested a continuation

[pynkhues]

Touch prompt 17 (after an argument) please and thank you!

Whatever Gets You Through the Night Succession gen fic. Roy sibs! TW: for mentions of domestic violence, drug abuse.

1996 / Connor's 33, Kendall's 18, and Roman and Shiv are twins and 14.

-

“Ow, fuck,” Roman bites, wincing dramatically as Connor rolls his eyes, offers up a half-assed watch it as he presses the balled-up washcloth to his youngest brother’s split lip. It’s mostly stopped bleeding now, the cut leaving the start of a bruise the size of their father’s signet ring just below the swell of his mouth, and the thing is, it wasn’t even hard, not really. An unballed fist, an open fingered backhand. Hell, if dad hadn’t been wearing the ring, there’d probably be nothing to clean up at all. The thought dries in ink, certain in a way that eases that hot, panicked, hollow feeling from ten minutes ago, even as he tilts Roman’s peach-fuzzed chin sideways to double check.

“A day, maybe two,” he decides, letting him go, but not quite moving to stand just yet. “I reckon you won’t even know it was there.”

“Shit, was hoping it’d scar,” Roman replies. He’s sitting cross-legged on the closed toilet seat, his eyes cast downwards to where he’s tugging the sleeves of his sweater down over curled fingers. Like this, he looks younger than fourteen, bug eyed and round faced with hands and feet he hasn’t grown into yet. Scrappy, like Kendall was at his age. Like Connor’s pretty sure he was too. “Start my supervillain era.”

It’s then that Shiv finally makes a noise – that loud sort of scoff she’s been managing since she was eight – and Connor exhales, standing up from his crouch to toss the blood-spotted washcloth into the sink.

“Please, you have Henchman Number 3 written all over you.”

“Yeah, well, you have unidentified murdered body written all over you. Probably headless and like, mangled and shit, with someone’s dick stitched to your face.”

Which - - okay.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Shiv asks at the same time Connor says: “Hey,” giving Roman a sharp look, and Roman just rolls his eyes, slumping back against the toilet’s tank and pulling a face at Shiv, who’s gotta pull an ugly one back, if the faint grin twitching at the corner of Rome’s mouth is anything to go by. It makes it easier somehow, for Connor to glance back at Shiv himself, and at least some of the colour is coming back to her face.

She’d come into the bathroom after them, but only by seconds, closing the door behind her before deciding to glue herself to it, and in the moment of it, it had been too much. To have been on his own this morning at his place in Medina, to tonight, trapped in the crowded kids’ bathroom at their dad’s apartment on the Upper East Side, these three kids suddenly his to deal with, loud and needy and urgent.

Not that that was a straight line exactly.

No, of course, there was plenty between it, from the private jet to dinner, to - - all of that - - but he’s not really sure how productive that would be to think about right now when his fourteen-year-old sister is staring at him like maybe he has a few answers.

And maybe he does, he thinks, hands still damp from the washcloth.

Or maybe not, he thinks, because he finds himself still looking at Shiv to not look at Kendall.

Thing is, he'd only visited her a few weeks ago – flown to Kentucky to see her compete in the US Equestrian Pony Finals, where she’d ignored him the first day before attaching herself to his side the second – but he swears she’s grown since then. Another inch in height at least, plus - - you know. She and Rome might be twins, but they’ve never looked particularly alike, and now, well. Mom always did say girls grew up faster.

“You okay?” he asks her, and Shiv glances up at him, arms crossed behind her back where she leans against the wall, and he sees it. The way her eyes dart towards the bathtub, but she’s careful not to let herself linger. Rolls her shoulders back against the wall, pushes her hips out like she would when she was still a kid, and she sniffs.

“Shouldn’t you be asking him that?”

Which - - yeah, Connor thinks, finally turning his attention to where Kendall’s sprawled in the empty bathtub, skinny as a rake, all of 18 and more blitzed on your average Thursday night than Connor was at last year’s Burning Man. He’s distracted at least for now, entranced by the ceiling light, his hair still damp from where Connor had splashed some water on his face the second he’d pulled them in here, but after a quick search for track marks (there were none that he could find, at least, although the hand-grip shaped bruise on Kendall’s arm had made him catch his breath), and deciding he wasn’t at risk of slipping into unconsciousness just yet, figured he could wait a sec.

“Don’t know how I was the one he was pissed at with the tweaker here,” Roman huffs, but there’s nothing behind it really. Embarrassment if anything, Connor thinks, because they both know Dad wasn’t actually angry at Roman anyway. The evening is like a flip book in his head: Family dinner and Kendall moony eyed and loose limbed and Sally-Anne’s pointed comments and then Kendall’s slurred insult, then their father’s consuming anger, shrinking the room, climbing the walls. A hand on Kendall’s arm, yanking so hard Connor thought he might’ve pulled it from the socket, Roman standing up saying - - something, Connor can’t remember, just remembers he was too close, whatever he said too much, so their father’s hand had gone backwards, like batting away a fly. Remembers Shiv then, staring hard at her plate, white faced and stormy eyed, and if it wasn’t for Sally-Anne suddenly leaving the room, their father quick to make chase, who the hell knows where the night might’ve gone.

“You just don’t know when to stop,” Shiv tells him, and Connor ignores them, crouching at the edge of the bathtub, grabbing the glass of water he’d poured earlier off the floor and holding it out to Kendall again. His gaze slips to the finger shaped bruises on his arm, and sometimes, in his dumber moments, he kinda thinks that’s the nut cracked. That Roman’s smacked out of the way, shoved to the side, and Kenny’s yanked closer, Kenny’s held down, but that’s not - - Dad’s not - -

Connor shakes his head, reaches for Kendall’s hand, helps him grip the glass. They’re kids, just like he was, and they just need to learn to keep quiet and do as they’re told. That’s all.

“You with us?” he asks, and Kendall blinks bleary green eyes back at him, unfocused, but then - - there’s a little something. A vague flicker of recognition, of regrounding, and Connor’s knees ache.

“Con?”

“Yeah, Kenny, I’m here.”

It makes Kendall blink, mumble something Connor can’t quite make out, but there’s a smile at his lips, so Connor takes it for a win. He rests his elbow against the cool porcelain rim of the tub, easing the glass to Kendall’s mouth.

“You gonna drink some of this for me?”

“You always do stuff like this,” Shiv continues, and from the corner of Connor’s eye, he can see her finally push off the door, starting towards Roman “Like you’re away half the year and then you come back, and start inserting yourself into things that you don’t know anything about.”

“Oh, I don’t know anything about this? About fucking - - fucking Trainspotting over here?”

Which - -

Connor frowns, even as Kendall fumbles a hand to his wrist, holds onto him as Connor helps him take a drink.

“Aren’t you a little young to be watching stuff like that?”

“We’ve seen worse,” Shiv counters. “Pretty sure Roman’s been jacking it to Clockwork Orange since last summer.”

“Yeah, but only to the regular violence, not the rapey violence, so the internet says there’s nothing to worry about.”

“I don’t like you guys messing around with that either,” Connor says, and he’d gesture to make a point, but Kendall’s really holding onto him now. Sobering up, maybe, something. Connor glances back, but y’know what? He has a point here. “The internet. You know, I’ve heard it was secretly invented by Al Gore, which means Clinton’s probably using it as a backdoor to Dad.”

“Oh my god, Connor,” Shiv groans, as Roman laughs, which chafes, and Connor half twists back towards them, annoyed because, y’know, they’re half his fuckin’ age, and he knows stuff about this, he does, but Roman and Shiv are just grinning at each other now.

“Ooo, yes, well, they’ll be getting all the super secret intel like his favourite sports ball team’s latest score as reported by literally everywhere, and pictures of like - - tits and buttholes.”

“I’m serious, you guys, it’s - - ”

Before he can finish the thought, Kendall suddenly sits up, thrusting his glass back at Connor, and okay, yeah, alright, Connor thinks, sensing the incoming mess. He drops the glass to the ground to stand and haul Kendall up as best he can. The kid’s green around the gills, is the thing, throat lurching and shoulders curling, and Connor glances sideways to Roman as he tries to move Kendall, who’s got all the grace of a reanimated corpse right now, and at least Rome’s already lurching off the toilet seat, fumbling around to help Connor pull their brother bodily out of the tub. There’s a bit of fumbling then, turning, but somehow they manage to link elbows with Kendall in the middle, their knees hitting the tiles simultaneously, just in time for Kendall to drop his head into the bath and vomit.

Behind them, he can hear Shiv gag, and Jesus, Connor’s pretty close to it himself. The splatter of bile (because apparently Kendall hasn’t eaten anything today) loud against the porcelain, and the smell something thin and acidic, diffusing in the bathroom, weaseling into towels and clothes.

“That’s good, Kenny,” Connor says, soothing in the way he used to use with his mom, which - - okay. Not something to spend too much time thinking on. He swallows, adds: “Bet you’re feeling better already, huh?”

Kendall makes a vague spluttering noise, and Roman’s face twists into something between sympathy and disgust, and Connor’s knees really aren’t what they used to be. He shifts on the tiles, feeling his pants catch in the grout line, leaving him off-balance, and he means to push a hand to Kendall’s back, half in quasi-comfort, and half to steady himself, only to discover that Roman’s hand is already there. They don’t acknowledge it, instead Connor just raises his own hand to the back of Kendall’s neck, squeezing gently at the clammy skin there, and watching as Kendall heaves out one last vomit, before he lowers his head to the rim of the bathtub.

“Here it comes,” Roman says, voice flat and hand still sprawled between Kendall’s shoulder blades. “You seen him crash before, man? It’s like watching a lizard fall off the ceiling into a trash compactor.”

“He’s done this before?”

Which is a stupid question, and they all know it. They’ve all seen him sneak off at parties, all seen him waxy skinned and red eyed in the mornings, and Connor’s more wondering when it started. He must’ve been Rome and Shiv’s age, more or less. Younger maybe, but that’s not really something he wants to think about either. Can’t quite balance that. His kid brother, always playing big.  

Still, stupid question or not, Shiv and Roman play along.

“Just a couple of times,” Shiv replies, and when he glances back at her, she’s flattened her bare foot on to the back of Kendall’s, her toes curled around his heel, and it’s a weird sort of gesture, but then Kendall’s foot seems to arch to hold it there, and he thinks he’s got no leg to stand on, not really. After all, she and Kendall are the only two of the four of them who really live together right now, what with Roman at St. Andrews and Connor in Medina. The thought sticks, and Connor thinks - - next school vacation. He’ll get them out with him. He can - - something.

“By that, she means only Wednesdays through Mondays. He gives himself Tuesdays off.”

Roman’s voice is cloying, mocking, and it apparently inspires a fresh exhale. A proper, annoyed breath.

“Fuck you, bro.”

And okay, yeah, Connor can work with that.

“Oh! He’s awake!” Connor crows at the same time Roman says: “He’s aliiive!” in as disturbing a Dr. Frankenstein voice as he can manage, and between them, Kendall swipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, resting on his haunches, and their arms are still linked, so it ends up being a whole thing that - - y’know - - not to belabor the point, but Connor’s really not sure his knees are up for anymore.

“Yeah,” is all Kendall says, and it’s weird – this moment where Connor feels him start to pull his arm in, closer, before seemingly changing his mind and disentangling. Instead, Kendall drops his hands to his thighs, curling there for a second before uncurling, and he glances at Connor without actually looking at him, before suddenly turning to Roman. Like this, Connor can’t see his face, can only see the back of his head and the slope of his narrow shoulders, but he can see Roman just past him, and then Shiv too, as she moves from behind them to sit on the edge of the tub, and that’s - - not weird, it’s not. Him and Kendall looking at Roman and Shiv, Roman and Shiv looking at - -

Well.

Not them.

Kendall.

Always to Kendall first.

It’s out of the corner of his eye that Connor sees Kendall raise an arm, his hand coming up to the corner of Roman’s mouth, just enough to thumb at some of the dried blood beneath the cut, and Connor can’t see Kendall’s face, he can’t, but he can hear his hoarse, wet breath, hear the mumbled ‘m sorry, and it’s all it takes for Roman’s face to crack open and for Shiv to stare at the floor like she’d stared at her plate at dinner, her own look closed and stormy again, and Connor thinks he might not even be there. Connor wonders if this is a dream, if its astral projection, if he’s never really with them, always on the outside, looking in, and there’s something inside him that tells him stupid, that tells him they’re teenagers, and Shiv is staring at the floor like she knows not to look up and Roman’s got their father’s ring stamped on his face, and Kendall’s got their father’s fingers wrapped around his arm, and he thinks he can’t look at them.

These kids.

He’s supposed to take care of them.

He drops his gaze to the floor, a tentative hand falling to Kendall’s shoulder, and he hates that it’s a relief, when Kendall doesn’t flinch.

The moment sits, but then, like everything else, it breaks.

“Whatever,” Roman says suddenly to Kendall, loose and warmer than he has any right to be, especially when he adds: “Will you throw up again if I stick my finger in your eye?”

(Which yeah, for the record, he will).

[em-writes-stuff]

Semi-conscious

day 12 of @febuwhump

hero and villain

504 words

warnings: collapsed building, cursing

part two

~

Hero puts his hands over his ears, trying to block out the ringing. He whimpers, curling into himself when it makes it worse. 

Dust falls in front of him, coating his clothes and the ground. He groans and tries to stand up. “Villain?” 

He waits for an answer, then calls out again, head pounding with the effort. “Villain? Where are you?” 

A pain in his ribs steals the importance of finding Villain and he winces. “What the fuck happened?” 

He pulls his shirt up and finds a red, angry bruise spreading over his torso. Pursing his lips, he pokes gently at the bruise and sighs in relief when he doesn’t feel any broken bones. He lets his shirt drop and starts to stand up, arm wrapped around his torso. 

“Villain?” He calls out again. “Come on, now isn’t the time for the silent treatment.” 

He starts to dig around in the debris, carefully shifting pieces to check underneath them. He lifts up a large slab of concrete and nearly drops it when he sees Villain. 

Her clothes are torn, revealing cuts and bruises on her skin. Her hair is in her face, obscuring it from Hero’s view. Her chest slowly rises and falls, batting away at the despair growing in Hero’s stomach. 

Using the last of his strength, Hero lifts the slab over his head and tosses it over Villain, sending it crashing on the other side of her. 

She startles, eyes barely opening. She mumbles something incoherent and turns her head away from the crash. Hero rushes to her side, ignoring the pain shooting from his ribs. “Hey, it’s alright. It’s just me.” 

She leans into his touch, muttering something. He brushes the hair out of her face and tries to calm her down, “You’re alright. We’ve just gotta find a way outta here, ok?” 

She nods weakly and raises her hand out to him. He takes it and pulls her over his shoulder, ignoring the way he can feel his ribs shifting in his chest. 

Her arms hang limp over his back, hitting his calves with every step, but they’re slowly making it to safety. 

“What happened?” Villain asks, voice barely audible over the ringing in Hero’s ears. 

Hero shakes his head and keeps running, “No idea. Kinda hoping you knew. Was anyone else home?” 

Villain makes a sound that might be considered a laugh, “Was anyone else home when I texted you to come meet up? Yeah, no. The kids are with their grandma and…Henchman hates your guts, if she found out you were coming over, she’d have been parked on the steps to kill you.” 

“I thought you were gonna tell her?” Hero says, his steps faltering a little. 

“Never the right time.” 

Hero pushes open the door and stands in the doorframe, taking in the sunlight hitting his face. He squints his eyes open and focuses on a familiar truck in the driveway. 

“Sidekick?” Hero mutters, helping Villain off his shoulder and onto her feet. “What’s he doing here?”

[abyssal-ali]

She's A Knockout

Pairing: Jason Todd x Stephanie Brown, minor Bill the Henchman x Goon Named Jeff

Rating: T

WC: 2.7k Ao3 Masterlist

A/N: Inspired by this reel. Beta'd by Bambi<3

Steph blinked in confusion as the waiter appeared beside her with a pair of boxing gloves and what looked like a ring girl.

All she’d asked for was a box for her leftover chicken and waffles.

“Alright folks! This lovely lady right here will be squaring off against the reigning champion, Bill the Brute! I’m Jeff, your announcer for this fight. Round one!”

Steph slipped off her bar stool, the gloves an appropriate tightness and her hair swept back in a hasty ponytail by the helpful ring girl.

She wasn’t going to let anything get between her and her waffles. If that meant fighting a random Gothamite who thought it would be funny to let her waffles sog, so be it.

Feigning reluctance, she let Jeff guide her hands into a protective guard for her face as she swayed nervously on her feet.

“I’m not gonna punch him!” she protested, sizing up Bill the Brute. He was fairly lean, dressed only in shorts and a black pair of gloves to match her white ones. 

“Stick to your jab,” Jeff encouraged her, dropping his hand. “Fight!”

“I’m not gonna punch him!” she repeated, stepping marginally closer.

Steph gingerly landed a left hook, eyeing up his reflexes and how serious this situation (which she assumed to be a prank, considering the laughter and cheers of the other patrons) was.

“Harder!” boomed Jeff. “Knock him out! Hit ‘im in the head!”

“No! That’s mean!” she cried, bouncing a little closer, pretending to ham up the fight for the audience.

“Do it!” they began cheering, along with Jeff.

Bill the Brute ducked the first slow jab, but he missed her surprise right hook, collapsing at Jeff’s feet dramatically.

Steph’s mouth dropped in horror, thinking his decent boxing skills would have protected him from the full force of her blow.

The server behind Jeff banged his fork against his skillet, signalling the entire fight was over. 

Jeff seemed to think Bill was hamming it up for the show, raising her hand in victory as the ring girl wrapped the fake championship belt around her torso.

“And after one hard round, we have the winner by TKO, the new champion of the Hood and Dagger Pub!” Jeff and the patrons cheered.

Steph frantically piled her waffles and chicken into the box that the girl behind the bar had provided while she fought Bill the Brute, ducked her head, and fled the pub, ignoring his sales pitch for a boxing gym(?).

Steph mourned the loss of her new favourite pub as she ran down the street, waffle box tucked under her arm to help her aerodynamics.

They’d always had good food when she went, usually at the weirdest hours (which was strange that the pub was open that late–or early, if you preferred–but she didn’t dare go digging into its ownership or management lest she be conscience-bound to shut down her new haven). 

Her musings were cut short by the sound of someone pursuing her. She glanced back, seeing Jeff running behind her. 

Dang, what did he want? She’d paid before she requested the box. Had he found out she’d knocked out Jeff for reals and it wasn’t for show?

“Miss!”

It was noon, and there were several other people out and about on the fairly well-travelled street, so Steph made the executive decision to confront him here, and not accidentally acquire a stalker and expose her new Batgirl-haven. 

“Yeah?” she twirled her ponytail.

Jeff bent over a decent distance away. “You’re almost as fast as Boss,” he gasped. “That was amazing!”

Steph blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

“Your moves, miss,” Jeff panted out an explanation. “Boss saw you and wants to talk to you. You wouldn’t be needing a job, would you?”

“Excuse me?” she repeated, shriller this time.

Steph reluctantly entered the back room of the Hood and Dagger. It was a lot different from most back rooms she’d been in, and that wasn’t even counting the daytime and front door entrance she was unaccustomed to.

Jeff cleared his throat. “Boss, I got the lady!” he said proudly.

“Thanks, Jeff. I do hope you didn’t use your uh…work…tactics?”

The only thing she could see was the black-and-white hair of a man behind a computer setup so large Babs would be jealous, but just his voice sounded nice.

“Of course not, Boss! I can be subtle!”

Aw, poor Jeff sounded genuinely hurt.

Mentally preparing herself for another middle-age, morally dubious at best, sleazebag, Steph was entirely unprepared for the Boss who actually stood up, arm outstretched for her to shake.

He was young, though the jury was still out on his morals, but was inclined to acquit him on account of his face, which was handsome and graced with a gorgeous smile and– he had dimples?! 

Steph had clearly been knocked out by Bill the Beast and this was what her concussion-wracked brain had conjured while she was unconscious.

“Uh, hi. Um. Steph.” She shook his hand, which was large, warm but not sweaty, and had neatly trimmed nails. Steph was a sucker for nice hands.

He withdrew his hand after the shake, twisting it in a way that meant his veins were highlighted for her to drool over.

“Jason. Hi, I’m the owner of Hood and Dagger Pub. I apologize if Bill and Jeff’s little promotional stunt scared you off,” he smiled warmly, teal eyes meeting hers familiarly. “They’re a bit passionate about the boxing and all-round gym opening a couple blocks over, and when I gave them the greenlight to promote it, I didn’t quite expect such…creativity in the way they went about it.”

“Better creative and original than dull and mainstream, right?” laughed Steph. “It was fine. I thought I actually knocked Bill out.”

“His skull’s taken worse, I assure you,” chuckled Jason. “He likes to ham up his performance when pretty ladies are around…even if he’s happily in a relationship with Jeff,” he shook his head at the duo’s antics. Jeff had left to gossip with inform the other employees about the potential interview taking place, so he wasn’t there to defend himself from his boss’s slandering.

“I’m just relieved I can show my face here again,” Steph smiled. “I was so sad at the thought that I’d be banned for knocking out one of your employees, just when it’s become my new favourite restaurant and haven. The hours are a godsend for someone with weird hours like me.”

Jason inclined his head, silently requesting she continue her hot-guy-induced ramblings.

Steph would just like to state for the record that it wasn’t her fault he was almost as hot as she imagined Red Hood was behind the mask. He was her celebrity crush; sue her. She’d seen girls thirsting over Ghostface; this wasn’t any stranger.

“Yeah? What draws you to the Hood and Dagger, if I may ask?”

“The food is amazing; I love the privacy between the booths, so I can study in relative peace even at the height of the rush; it’s seemingly open 24/7, so I can get food when I’m too tired to cook, and I’ve even been able to have a nap after I stumbled in here for breakfast after pulling an all-nighter–in short, have you considered renaming this Steph’s Heaven?” she joked.

Jason grinned at her. “I will now. I’m glad you’re so pleased with my establishment. It’s my goal to have it open as much as I can, so people have a safe space to rest, study, sleep, just like you said. It’s a pub, but it’s not just for food and drink. I want to make this a safe haven for everyone as long as I can.”

“That’s really commendable,” Steph nodded. Her curiosity about Jason was urging her Bat-research (aka stalking) skills on, but now she really didn’t want to ruin this illusion he’d woven around her. He was the perfect guy, she could overlook some tax evasion or him secretly being Kite-Man.

“You look really familiar, though. Have we met somewhere before?”

“I…don’t think so? I’m fairly sure I’d remember a face like yours.”

He raised an eyebrow at her comment.

“I’m usually in the back cooking when I’m working here, so I wouldn’t have seen you here before as a patron,” he mused. “You’re at Gotham Gen?” he waved a hand at the hospital intern badge hanging off her shirt.

She nodded.

He frowned. “I haven’t been there in ages. Probably not. Hm, maybe I just need some sleep.”

“Long night? I can go,” Steph took a half-step towards the door.

“No, please stay. I asked Jeff to bring you here so I could meet you. I was going to ask you if you needed or wanted a job.”

“A job?” She raised her eyebrow. So far Jason had been quite decent, but if he suggested-

“At my new boxing gym. You look like you know how to fight–that’s a compliment, I assure you. I think a female employee would really help draw more female clientele.”

“A boxing gym and a restaurant? Wow, Jason, you’re sure not one-dimensional.”

He shrugged, dropping his head in a pitiful attempt to hide his grin. “I’m a well-rounded guy, or so my mom says when she tries to marry me off.”

Steph snorted. “What type of job were you thinking about at your gym? ‘Cause depending on how well you sell this, I just may quit the scourge of med school.”

“And the pressure is on,” laughed Jason. “Do you have formal training in any martial art or physical activity?”

Steph considered her Cass-mandated and Bat-supervised training. “Yep, although I don’t have any certificate to show for it.”

“Would you say good enough to be a trainer or coach?”

“Yep.”

“Confidence, I like that. Barely took you a second to reply. Thoughts on Red Hood?”

Steph blinked at the non sequitur. “Smash?”

Jason choked. “Sorry?”

“Uh…morally I don’t support him, but as a Gothamite?” Steph glanced around, leaning in. “And as someone attracted to men? Absolutely.”

Jason blinked again. “I…see. Well, if you want a job at Jill’s Gym, just talk to Jeff or Bill. And yes, they’re the ‘Jill’ in ‘Jill’s Gym’.”

Steph snickered. “That’s a clever name.”

“It’s apparently their ‘ship name’ or whatever,” Jason air quoted. 

At that, Steph outright guffawed, tears running down her cheeks while Jason eyed her stiffly. “You’re such a grandpa! ‘What’s a ship name? Kids these days and their newfangled names for each other’.”

Jason opened his mouth, but he didn’t retort Steph’s teasing, much to her surprise. What came out was much worse.

“Batgirl?”

Shit.

“Uh. No? I’m Steph.”

And why hadn’t she used an alias, maybe Minnie Malone, she bemoaned with all the clarity of hindsight.

“Yeah, but you’re also Batgirl, aren’t you? I’d know that mocking laugh anywhere,” Jason said. “It’s okay, I’m Red Hood.”

Heck!!!

She’d just thirsted over the guy to his face! About his alter ego! Steph debated just making another mad dash from the Hood and Dagger–wow, what a subtle name. Well, he literally wore bright red over his head and heart; she supposed that was on her for expecting subtlety from the man, who’d clearly never heard the word.

“Please tell me you’re lying, not the least of which because I just told you I’d smash your alter ego to your face,” she gritted past her hands covering her face in shameful horror.

Jason snickered. “No can do, BG. If it’s any consolation, I’d say the newest Batgirl is pretty smash-worthy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

His teal eyes were right in front of hers. Was it hot in here? It was hot in here. 

“Can I maybe get your number?”

Steph looked up at him, worrying her lip between her teeth. “Sure, as long as you don’t give me one of your burner numbers.”

“Deal.” Jason fished his phone out of his back pocket. 

Steph typed in her contact information and texted herself, then handed it back to him.

“Best Gotham Blonde Girl <3?” Jason read off her self-appointed contact name and laughed. “Cute.”

“I am,” she batted her lashes at him. “So, I hear you know the owner of this really great restaurant?”

“I’m not taking you to my own restaurant for our first date, Steph. Give Alfred’s teachings a little more credit, please.”

“First date?” Steph asked. “Sounds good. In that case, I enjoy the Italian restaurant opposite Wayne Enterprises, the churro truck by Amusement Mile, and the diner in Robinson Park.”

“I’m aware,” Jason said dryly. “I've seen you demolishing a stack of waffles after patrol several times.”

Steph flushed. “Yeah, well, you stay up way too late reading on the gargoyle overlooking the Harbour!”

Jason’s hand gently settled on her cheek. “Been stalking me, have you?”

“I see you on my way to my much-too-early classes at Gotham U,” she retorted, leaning into his touch. “Kiss me.”

“Whatever the lady says.”

Steph’s arms wrapped around his neck as he kissed her sweetly, drawing him in and deepening the kiss.

His free hand ran up and down her side before settling on her hip and pulling her flush with him.

They broke apart at the knock on his door, where Jeff stood.

“Uh, I’ll come back later. Congrats, Boss!”

Bonus:

“Boss?”

Jason looked up, waving Jeff and Bill into his office.”’Sup?”

“Uh, we’re really happy you’ve found this girl, but…we thought you liked the new Batgirl?” Bill was brave enough to say what the whole Goonion had been wondering since Jeff breathlessly updated them on Boss’s love life an hour ago.

Jason considered them. “I do. She kind of looks like Batgirl, though, don’t you think?”

Bill and Jeff exchanged looks.

“They’re both…blonde…”

“As long as you’re happy, Boss,” they assured him. “Does she know about Red Hood?” “Yep, she’s cool with it.”

“Okay, thanks for telling us, Boss.”

Jeff and Bill left to update the Goonion. “She knows he’s Hood and she’s cool with it, and he still likes BG but he’s dating her because she reminds him of the girl he can’t get.”

Bill blinked the moistness in his eyes away. “I hope she doesn’t break Boss’s heart.”

Bonus Bonus:

“Move over, I can’t see,” hissed Jeff, nudging Gary with his bony elbow until he could peer through the window at Boss’s date with Steph.

They seemed to be having a good time, laughing and chatting, but the Goonion still secretly rooted for their OTP, RedGirl (unfortunately, the two vigilantes’ names weren’t the most conducive to ship names). Steph wasn’t bad as a second-place contender for Boss’s heart, though, and they’d rather see him happy than with a vigilante who didn’t see their Boss for the good man that he was (duffle bags with dubious contents notwithstanding).

Boss and Ms Boss stood to leave the restaurant, and the Goonion started their car to be ready to follow the couple to their next destination.

Interestingly, Boss took Ms Boss to his warehouse headquarters. They were sure moving fast, but if Boss trusted her, so did they.

“It’s usually a lot busier at this time,” Boss was telling Ms Boss when the Goonion entered the building through the back entrance, pretending they’d been out on a mission.

“Oh, there you are. I’d like to introduce you to Steph.”

The Goonion shook her hand and introduced themselves, taking her measure personally and agreeing that she seemed to fit Boss well.

They nodded at him approvingly before they tactfully peeled themselves away to their respective tasks, where they could more surreptitiously keep an eye on the couple, who were chuckling about something as they continued the tour.

They disappeared into Boss’s office and the Goonion winked at each other, preparing to give Boss some privacy, when the door swung open and out walked Boss in his work uniform…hand in hand with Batgirl.

Well, that explained some things. 

Jeff pulled out his phone to gather evidence for the other lieutenants. Too bad they were out on patrols and couldn’t see this for themselves. Dennis and Alicia weren’t going to believe this without his proof! 

Now seemed like a good time to revive the Boss Dating bets they’d had running…