#‧⋇⊶⊰ s1 ✦ canaries ⊱⊷⋇‧

[plunderwater]

TIMING: Prior to Jasper losing his face LOCATION: Driftwood Diner PARTIES: Fang (@ronin-for-hire) & Jasper (@eatdearth) SUMMARY: Fang and Jasper meet up to try the White Crab seltzers at Driftwood Diner despite their shaky "first date" at Midnight Drive-In. CONTENT WARNINGS: Innuendos, awkward date stuff, passive-aggressiveness

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. It was supposed to be a pretty nice movie date at Midnight Drive-In, featuring the film called The Awakening of the Jiggly Pears; it was supposed to be a pretty nice dinner at Harborside, with Jasper getting to taste those White Crab seltzers at Driftwood Diner that she had been raving about. However, as it turned out, much to Jasper’s dismay, both times were with the same girl, and that same girl seemed extremely hostile toward him. Did he do something wrong to her? Something he couldn’t even remember? Did he accidentally piss on her parents’ graves or what?

“So, uhm, we meet again, huh?” Jasper tried to play it off coolly, chuckling at his lame attempt at an ice breaker. He’s never been at Harborside, at least not recently, at least not with someone new, someone who seemed like she’d rather break his kneecaps than do anything else with him, most of all enjoy the seltzers. But Jasper at least tried. No one can say he didn’t. Especially not at the face of a scowling she-devil. “T-thanks for being here.”

Fang squinted at Jasper, her arms crossed over her chest, as she sat back on her seat, scowling. The first time they had gone out, it was to watch that weird film at that weird drive-in. It wasn’t a bad first date, err first meeting, but it could have gone a lot better. At least he didn’t try anything weird. Then again, he wouldn’t have been able to. If he had, she would’ve made sure he wouldn’t try that again with anyone else. But at least he paid. And his car was clean. “Yeah, probably should’ve made sure it wasn’t you.”

Those words might have been sharper than most people would’ve liked, but they were the only words she knew. Well, the only delivery she knew. Fang didn’t live in this part of the world. She didn’t grow up with comfort and the luxury to give strangers the benefit of the doubt. Fang grew up in the part of the world where her parents died during a car crash, thanks to a monster. She grew up in the part of the world where no other relatives claimed her, leading to the guy that saved her to take her in, train her to be a monster killer. She’s been surviving against monsters ever since. “As long as you’re paying, Professor.”

“Of course, I will,” Jasper forced a smile on his face just as the waitress arrived, greeting them both and handing them each a menu. That comment of Fang’s, the one with the whole making sure it wasn’t him again thing, made him wince inside. It was a bit hurtful, but to be honest, he should have expected it from her. For some reason, she hated his guts. Was it his fault? Or maybe that was just who she was? He’d met people like that, had them in his class. Misdirected anger, that was what he liked to call it. She didn’t have enough on him, he thought, to have all that dislike of him be truly about him. It was, most likely, something else. “Two White Crab seltzers?”

Jasper posed the question to Fang, which the waitress picked up on. The latter had said the usual spiel of the restaurant, the food place, which Jasper didn’t bother to listen to. Or he would have, had he not focused on Fang’s misguided animosity toward him. Whatever the true cause of her negativity was, her hostility, he was now determined to find out, if only to make sure she’d tone it down a bit, or more importantly, he could make her feel more comfortable and less agitated. “Or do you have something else in mind? Something more you want to try?”

Fang accepted the menu and read it in a way that kept her from seeing Jasper’s face. Heaving a sigh, she read through the items offered, finding the White Crab seltzers. As if on cue, she reminisced on the first time she got them, having been dragged to the diner by Sara and her coworkers who wanted to try the new addition. The slayer wasn’t too thrilled at the thought of being forced to try a drink with crab in it, especially after her morgue fight, but ended up relenting after Sara guilted her like an Asian mom would. 

“Here,” Fang stated plainly, placing the menu on the table with her finger on the word ‘codburger’ while staring at Jasper with a playful smirk, as if challenging him to get the same dish. The slayer wasn’t much of a gambler, even though the codburger was always a gamble. Some days, the cod was delicious. Other days? She wasn’t even sure if it was cod in there. Definitely a dish she’d enjoy watching the geology professor try to overcome. “Two. One for me and you. Unless you’re scared?”

“Scared?” Jasper raised an eyebrow at Fang, utterly confused. Why would he be scared of a burger? Sure, he’s never had a burger with cod instead of meat, but he did have that tuna burger a while back. Cod and tuna… They’re basically the same thing, right? “Why would I be scared? It’s just fish,” he turned to the waitress with a warm smile, nodding at her after she clarified if that was all they wanted to have. White Crab seltzers and codburger… How could he expect anything else from a diner at Harborside.

“So,” Jasper tried to think of something else to talk about once the waitress left him alone with Fang. He tried to be careful about what topic to broach, tip-toeing on eggshells in his head. The last thing he wanted was for her to start yelling at him again. Then again, he did think she was cute when she got mad. Oh, no… What the actual fuck was that line of thinking? “...you come here often?” Smooth… As in smooth brain. Smooth brain Jasper. Gundam it.

Fang scoffed at Jasper before shaking her head, a grin finding its way across her lips. The man was walking the fine line that separated ignorance and stupidity, and the slayer was finding his stumbling a little bit humorous. She gave him a final shrug and leaned back against her seat, “All right, just fish, hm? We’ll see.” 

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the final dumb thing Jasper could have said. Fang scoffed a second time in under an hour, disbelief clear on her face. “Is that a pick-up line? You know we’re not in a bar, right?” 

Besides, Jasper had already technically picked her up, so there was no need for such a line. Picking up on that idea, Fang leaned forward, her lips contorting into a playful smirk. “Are you nervous, Professor?” He was a bit like this during the movie, too, though she simply attributed that to the fact that it was night time and she didn’t really give him an opening to do what he wanted, what guys on movie dates at night often liked to do. 

Quietly, without words, Jasper just stared at Fang, now a little considered at the implied dangers of a “codburger.” What was it? The cod was going to be overcooked? Raw? Jasper has had sushi before. He’s not lightweight when it comes to fish. Besides, what even is overcooked fish? Just mushy sea meat that he can still gulp down. Of all the things to be afraid of, especially in this part of Wicked’s Rest, fish was not going to be one of them for Jasper. 

“Oh, no,” Jasper shook his head, fumbling for a save. It was. It definitely was a pick-up line, though he may not have intended it as such. Jasper hasn’t been social lately, though to no fault of his own. He tries, but not a lot of people want to have some fun with him outside of office hours. The few that did intimidated him. The rest that he wanted to go out with, have some drinks, maybe a few burgers? Well, he’d rather not get some rumors going around at the university. Dating students was weird. “I was just trying to break the ice.”

“...a little bit,” came Jasper’s awkward admission after a few seconds of silence. The last time they were together, it didn’t really foster a good feeling between the two of them. This made him feel a bit hesitant to do anything now, for fear of a lot of things, most especially getting physical with her, and by that, getting beaten to a pulp. “Nice place…”

“Hm,” came Fang’s ice-cold reply, which was appropriate, considering Jasper was trying to break the ice. Or was that ironic? The slayer could never tell. She wasn’t a wordsmith, and the English language wasn’t her first or even her second language. Learning it took some time, as it was very weird and little all over the place. Just like him. 

Heaving a sigh, Fang crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back. Maybe she was being hard on him. Maybe he doesn’t deserve it as much as she thought. First impressions were important, and Jasper had fumbled that, but Fang could surely give him a second chance? Like her late mentor did. “It is, I guess.”

Now it was her turn to try to break her own ice, as she mustered enough courage and self-awareness to soften her stance. “What places do you go to? On your time, I mean,” Fang shrugged the query as the waitress returned with their burgers and seltzers. At first, she was disinterested in his answer, but as she reached for the seltzer, eager to try it, one glimpse of him made her a little more curious. Something about him reminded her of herself, and she hated it.

“My time?” Jasper was pleasantly surprised when Fang made the effort to make their set-up a little less hostile and a little more, well, interactive. He was already munching on the codburger, having found it a little too tempting. If what she was warning him about was truly dangerous, scary, or whatever else, then he wanted to just get it all over with, done with. The first bite was a little soft, maybe too soft, but her question distracted him from delving into that concern much deeper. “Well, I don’t know… Depends on the day, or night, I suppose.”

Jasper reached for his seltzer, taking a quick sip of it, finding the taste a little odd, though it was mostly due to the fact that he had never tasted anything like it. If it was a thing in this neighborhood, then he wouldn’t have known. Jasper rarely went here, even as a kid, even though he had wanted to. Who didn’t want to go to the beach as a kid? “Friday nights, I spend the night out, enjoying my freedom…with drinks,” he opted to omit the part where he usually did that alone. On his own. “What about you?” 

“Your time,” Fang reiterated the emphasis, taking a sip of the seltzer and surprisingly enjoying it. Must be a whole seafood thing. Back in Japan, she enjoyed a lot of seafood, even the stuff she didn’t know she’d like, the stuff she didn’t even know existed before then, and has since established a preference for all the white meat, and even the non-white meat, from the sea. Basically, it’s a whole thing with her. 

Next, she tried the burger, almost dreading the attempt, but was surprised, again, though pleasantly as well, when the cod in the codburger was very much a cod, tasted like one and tasted pretty fresh, too. Must be her lucky day. Odd.

“Me?” Fang chewed the bite she took as slowly as she could to relish and savor the taste. It was a damn good codburger. Well, hers was. She wasn’t sure if Jasper’s was any better. Or anyone else’s in that restaurant. But she didn’t dwell on that thought. Instead, she tried to think of a decent answer to the question, delving deep into her mind. She enjoyed slaying monsters for money, that was the answer she wanted to give, but of course she couldn’t. “Sex.” 

Nailed it.

Jasper almost choked on his food when he heard her reply, coughing as he desperately reached for his seltzer. His eyes were still wet and a bit red when he finally recuperated from the unexpected revelation. Jasper was no prude, so Fang having sex in her free time wasn’t anything that surprised him. What actually got him was the fact that she had offhandedly made the comment, sharing something intimate with him when she had previously only shared hostility with the geology professor. 

If they were close friends, then Jasper would have just laughed it off, especially if they had such an intimate rapport where they could joke about such things, talk openly about such personal details. But they weren’t. They had already gone out twice, sure, but the most they knew about each other was that Fang wasn’t a fan of Jasper and Jasper was clearly socially inept. “Y-yeah… O-okay,” he cleared his throat, making sure the seltzer got all the possible obstruction from the burger. “Me, too, I guess. Sex is great.” He had to feign another cough to mask his own embarrassment at his final remark.

Jasper felt like teleporting elsewhere as an aftermath of that exchange, though he wouldn’t know the first thing about that. He might be a spellcaster, but he was essentially a rung below beginner. He was more like a hobbyist, and his magical affinity was more toward earth elemental magic. Teleportation, if it even was a thing, would have been under a different category, he believed, though he was also not well-versed with other categories outside of elemental magic. 

Soon, his thoughts had to wander to the possibility that she might invite him over after this for some, well, great sex, but quickly shook his head to keep himself from dwelling over that possibility. It was just a stray bullet of sorts, surely, and nothing was going to come out of this second date. Surely. Jasper swallowed air, feeling his throat dry up from out of nowhere, despite the fact that he had just drank some seltzer not too long ago, finished the entire damned cup even.

Fang let out a brief chuckle, realizing that she was the alpha in this conversation. She should always be. By default. But sometimes, it was much easier and freer to not be the alpha. Sometimes, she did enjoy being the one following another, being second to someone else, someone who steered the conversation whichever way they wanted, the meet-up, the encounter. 

Most of the interactions she’d had usually ended with swords drawn, which in her case, was often literally. It’s nice to be able to just chill and put her feet up. With Jasper, that seems to always be the case, even if she had to be alpha. “Yeah? You must get a lot of sex then, being a smart professor guy and all?” It was mostly teasing, as Fang didn’t really want to know. Or did she?

The rest of the “date” went better than Fang expected. At least he was too far to try anything this time, too far to reach around her shoulders and leave his heavy, lanky arm on them, weighing her down like a steel ball shackled to her ankle, too far to brush strands of her hair away from her face and behind her ear. He’s probably watched more stupid rom-coms than actually gotten on dates. To be fair, though, she hasn’t been dating either. Still, she wasn’t watching rom-coms to fill that hole in her life. She’s been slaying monsters at night for cash instead. Not an ideal replacement but still a bit better. “So, what do you think? You and me?”

Jasper blushed, his cheeks feeling hot under Fang’s scrutinizing gaze, so he immediately tried to brush it off with an awkward grin paired with an even more awkward chuckle. “You think?” He thought the question would make him look cool, even though he was subconsciously asking her to repeat her assumption. 

“I mean, I am a smart professor guy and all,” Jasper began blabbering to try and find a way to make himself sound better than he actually is, though to little avail. “Professors tend to be smart guys, or smart girls, or women, since, you know, professors need their brains to graduate with their degrees and become professors…” He went on and on and on about unnecessary things, going around in circles, until Fang would stop him and they would find other topics to discuss.

When their conversation ended up with her asking him what he thought about the two of them, Jasper once again choked, this time on air, as he had already finished his meal. He stared at her with wide eyes, unsure of what to say, but slowly realized what she actually meant. Was it an invitation? Of course, it was! She wouldn’t actually ask for his dumb-ass opinion. Fang didn’t seem like someone who’d care for what Jasper actually thought. It was either he was down or he wasn’t, and Jasper would be dumber than dumb if he wasn’t. 

The geology professor immediately raised his hand in the air, not moving his eyes away from Fang just in case she changed her mind. “C-check please!”

[orchiro]

what's going to happen next????

[lord-of-cactus]

Seablings save me

Og image :p

[gotham-exclusive]

Black Canary: Kids, I hate to break it to you, but that’s called a traumatic event.

Black Canary, to Kid Flash: Not a ‘bruh moment’

Black Canary, to Artemis: Not a ‘major L’

Black Canary, to Miss Martian: Not a ‘spicy slay’

Black Canary, to Super Boy: Not an ‘oof lmao’

Black Canary, to Aqualad: Not a ‘yikes situation’

Black Canary, to Robin: And definitely not an ‘average tuesday’

[saym0-0]

pov ur hanging out with ur seabling and then two yellow birds that strongly resemble sompy ass cats fall on ur head (hate when that happens)

sillies under the cut \/

the difference between lizzies gentle hold and jimmys death grip is so funny 2 me

[willow505breaker]

Remember when I promised to post Jimmy’s watcher design??

Small explanation! Jimmy is not a watcher or a listener in this au though the listeners are fond of Jimmy. he was possessed by the watchers to use to try and get to Grian and Pearl.

The first design is wp!Jimmy (watcher possessed) disguised to try and look like how Jimmy normally would and the second is his full watcher form! I gave him his canary wings because to the watchers, Jimmy will always be their canary to toy with.

Full page if wanted

Also I headcanon Jimmy was born as a fey/farie so that why he has those wing in the first drawing and his feathered ear is to show that the canary curse is beginning to follow Jimmy out of the life games.

If you want to know more about this au or see more art and hear more ideas, let me know!

@solidaritygaming-fanblog because this is Jimmy content

[workplacecomedian]

Welcoming you all to a new favorite (crack)ship:

Colin Becher X Sergey Ushanka

You're telling me there's a bullheaded IT guy who's losing his mind to the machines and a tortured ghost of a man in the form of a computer virus and you DON'T want to put them in a room together and see what happens?? It's very fun to think about, romantically or otherwise; and considering how little we know of them both, it's very adaptable to taste!

Something about Sergey haunting the shit outta Colin, but in such a way to convince him to join him, while Colin is....listen. I'm not gonna call him tsundere because that absolutely isn't the word I'm looking for and also I think he'd manifest and kill me badly if he was called that. Let's call it unrequited? Temporarily unrequited? Until Colin's lost it enough? Eroticism of the machine or whatever Who said that. Anyway

[ask-the-esmp-emperors]

Scott Jimmy and Pearl,

Do Joel and Lizzie know about...the thing, since they were also involved?

[silence for 30 seconds, footsteps against tile sound] Pearl: No, no they don't know. Me and Scott remember because we're winners, and Jimmy.. Actually, Jimmy, why do you know? Scott: ...yeah. Why do you know, Jimmy? You never really told us. Jimmy: ..I have a lot of explaining to do. [click]

[cyberfag-noir]

Hyperion City referenced off Canary Wharf.

[scisetforever]

someone get me a knife so i can stab val. someone also give a trophy to whoever designed this fit because when i tell you i BOLTED to my ipad draw draw angel in this fit, i mean it. my final year of school will be spent watching episode four of hazbin and listening to poison on repeat and no one can stop me.

[plunderwater]

Slayin' Alive, Slayin' Alive

TIMING: Recent, before Emilio got cursed LOCATION: Somewhere Downtown PARTIES: Emilio (@mortemoppetere) & Fang (@ronin-for-hire) SUMMARY: Fang and Emilio cross paths when their respective quarries end up together. CONTENT WARNINGS: None

—

There was a moment, then, when it all came back to her—how it was to be ignorant: to have no knowledge of the shadows that lurked underneath all that she knew; to sleep soundly at night believing light always triumphs over darkness, that love and peace and heroes would always find a way to make sure everyone was safe; to not chase after stupid vamps on what could have been a sensual Friday night. “I could be boning someone by now,” Fang groaned to herself as their chase finally ended.

Her target was trapped. Between her and a dead end. Fang smiled underneath her oni facemask as her fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt of her katana, a borrowed weapon from her late mentor. She narrowed her eyes at the creature, who mostly just resembled an idiot boy if not for the fresh blood around her mouth, almost challenging them to come at her and fight back. Her target looked like he was about to…but then he threw a kick at her, sending her shoe flying toward her face, which the slayer instinctively slashed in half, all while her prey threw themselves over the dead end and continued to run. “Motherfucker!”

Sure, she could have continued to chase after the damned vamp, but maybe she didn’t have to. Fang squinted when she caught a glimpse of a piece of crumpled paper on the ground. She quickly retrieved it, and upon opening it, smirked like she just won against a stupid idiot. “Is this his address? What in the actual fuck?”

—

In the beginning, just after the massacre, it felt like Emilio was tracking down another one of the vampires responsible every week. There’d been so many of them and, just after it happened, they’d been so proud of themselves. Bragging about it in bars and street corners, excited to say that they’d been a part of the group that finally took down the Cortez family of slayers once and for all. Finding them had been easy. Picking them off, slowly and painfully, had been simple. He’d learned a lot, in those first few months, about how much a vampire could take before its body gave out, before it exploded into dust, before it begged for it. He missed that, sometimes.

It was harder now. Word had gotten out, eventually, that someone was tracking down everyone involved. No one knew it was him — as far as both the undead and the hunter community knew, Emilio Cortez had died with the rest of his family in Mexico — but they knew enough to stop their bragging. Tracking down just one vampire who’d been involved now took weeks instead of hours. It took months, sometimes. 

So finding one in Wicked’s Rest felt like a win.

He’d tracked the thing to an apartment building downtown. It was a hell of a lot nicer than Emilio’s apartment, which might have pissed him off if he’d cared anything about where he was living. As it was, it felt about as empty as everything else did. The slayer sighed, making his way towards the building… only to pause when he felt someone nearby. Not someone undead, which seemed odd given why he was here. Just a presence, watching. He turned towards the shadows, slayer vision allowing him to see through them to spot a figure in a mask, holding a katana in one hand and clutching a slip of paper in the other. Huh. That was new. “What are you supposed to be?”

—

It didn’t take long for Fang to track down her prey’s apartment. Despite the way she looked and acted, she was pretty savvy with all the new tech. Well, at least for someone in her line of work. A quick browsing of Google Maps and she was all set. What she found more difficult was to not get annoyed at the fact that the monster she was hunting lived in a better place than she did. Probably some place they stole from its original owner. Probably even murdered the original owner. Yeah, that’s probably it. Fang strengthened her resolve by thinking the worst of the damned vamp, which she believed was what they deserved.

Fang had slinked into the shadows when she realized she was not alone. She raised an eyebrow when the man easily spotted her. The slayer was already on a roll with thinking the worst of others, so in her head, she instinctively thought he was an associate of her prey. How else would he had seen him so easily? Another slayer? Pfft, what were the chances? And even if they were truly another slayer, then they might be after her prey. No way she was sharing her bounty. There’s rent left to pay this month. So she took out her katana and swung at him. Like a complete psychopath. “Your Maker, monster.”

—

Whatever he’d expected, it wasn’t this. Emilio had dealt with plenty over the years, but a woman in a mask leaping out from him wielding a goddamn sword? That was new. He jumped back just in time to avoid getting cut in half, whipping out his stake instinctively. She wasn’t undead — he would have sensed it if she were — but the stake happened to be the most easily accessible weapon he had on him at the moment. And a stake through the heart would kill most things, to be fair. It just happened to work especially well on vampires.

“You practice that line in the mirror at night?” It had been pretty well timed, and he had sort of unintentionally set her up for it, but it sounded like something out of an action movie. Or… what Emilio assumed would come out of an action movie. In all fairness, he supposed, he’d never actually seen one. “You come at everyone like this, or am I a special case?” He wasn’t sure whether to fight her or just walk away. This wasn’t what he was here for, after all.

—

When Fang saw the stake in the man’s hand, she had to take a step back. It wasn’t a weapon a vampire would have, at least not any vampire she’s fought before, though to be fair, the rules here were different from the rules in Japan. Also, not that many vampires in Japan. At least not the ones like in this town. Or maybe even in this part of the world. But she digressed. A vampire didn’t need a stake. Even with just its fangs and claws, it could take down a fellow vampire. A vampire with a stake just seemed as dumb as a Charmander with a bucket of water on its head.

“You’re not a vampire, are you?” That much was fast becoming obvious. Maybe if she took a second to check, this awkward and definitely dangerous moment could have been avoided. But Fang’s quarry had been testing her patience since they first encountered each other all those days ago. She didn’t have the patience to hesitate going into this place, this supposed hideout for the undead vermin, certainly not the patience to trade quips, even though she wasn’t that creative. “A thrall?” With a stake? Maybe a jilted lover, an annoyed servant here to take vengeance on his master through murder? But her quarry looked nothing like Nicolas Cage, and this man was no Nicholas Hoult. “Are you here to… The creature in this place is mine. You should leave.”

—

He felt oddly offended at the question, the very idea that he could be mistaken for something undead, for something like the things that had ruined his life before it began at all feeling more like an insult than a general inquiry. It made him feel a little sick, with a tightness in his chest and an acidic taste on his tongue. “No,” he snapped, a little harsher than was absolutely necessary, “I’m not a pinche vampire.” 

And then she continued, and Emilio found himself impossibly angrier. She wanted him to leave? He had every right to be here, had more of a claim to the vampire in that apartment than she did. What was she after it for? Did it matter? To her, it was probably nothing more than another undead thing. But to him? This was a deeply personal mission. He was far too stubborn to give it up. “Fuck off. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve been looking for this pendejo for months now, and I’m not letting you take it from me. I’m going to go up there, and I’m going to kill it slow. You can go home.”

—

Fang began to lower her weapon when he confirmed the obvious but raised it again when he declined to leave. Fact was, Fang wouldn’t kill an innocent civilian, even if they were wielding a stake, even if they were making her job harder. It wasn’t a wrong vs. right thing either, not a morality issue. To her, it would just be a waste of time. Innocent civilians could never defend themselves against people like her, slayers, hunters, trained from a young age to contend with monsters the former wouldn’t even know existed, wouldn’t even be prepared to fathom.

But Fang was now thinking of making an exception just for this asshole. “Look, dude,” Fang used that word in a derogatory manner, which was barely effective compared to the many other words she could have used. “Someone wants this vamp from down under dead so much, they’re paying top dollar, and I’m not sharing that bounty with you. So you either leave, go home to your video games or whatever, and spend the rest of your miserable, lonely life doing whatever makes you sleep at night…OR you can go up there, die to vampire Hugh Jackman in give or take five seconds, and then I’ll swoop in to get my rent money. Your choice.”

Fang growled at the end to emphasize her point, but she did get a few things wrong: One, the vampire she was after wasn’t Australian; it was from New Zealand, a foreign exchange student who had been alive for much longer than they were in school. Two, top dollar, the bounty wasn’t. It was just double her rent money, which wasn’t really a lot to anyone with a stable job. Fang did not have a stable job, though, so this was all she had. Three, she didn’t have to share that second part with him. Fact was, if she did just let him go at the vampire, believing it would make quick work of him, then she’d still be able to get her rent money after. Now he could just leave, making her lose a would-have-been advantage. Fang was no sly, cunning mind.

—

Ah. So it was money she was after. Emilio had heard of this, the side of the supernatural underbelly that exchanged lives for currency. Even in Mexico, there had been similar organizations. His mother had found it distasteful not because she believed any supernatural creature deserved to live but because she believed hunting to be more a righteous duty than a career option. Emilio’s own distaste for it came from a similar place. You believed what you were taught to believe, regardless of who taught it to you or how. Some things were just hard to shake.

“I don’t care about a bounty,” he snapped. “You want the money, you take it. It means nothing to me. The reasons I’m here are personal. It isn’t going to kill me, because I have been doing this my entire fucking life. I don’t carry this as un accesorio.” He waved the stake adamantly, frustration very clear. “And I don’t play video games.” 

If it were any other vampire, he might have been convinced to just walk away. Emilio was stubborn and possessive to a fault, but he wasn’t going to waste his time arguing with someone he assumed was another slayer over who got to kill a particular vampire. If the vampire was dead, it was dead. But this one was different. It had been there, in Etla. There was very little that would convince Emilio to leave that.

—

Fang raised an eyebrow. She found the guy incredibly rude, but then again, most of them in this line of work, and even those simply aware of the truth of the supernatural, were also incredibly rude. She’s been called incredibly rude herself, and she was, in a way, proud that those people kept their distance because of that perception, maybe even reality. She did find that last part funny for some reason, smirking from behind her facemask as she eased up on him, “Yeah, that much is obvious.”

Another thing that was obvious? Fang realized the other guy wasn’t going to just let this go. He seemed serious enough. About using that weapon in his hand to take out his vampire. Their vampire. Did it really matter if he’d die? He’d at least open some opportunity for her to swoop in while her quarry was busy with his corpse. Or he could be telling the truth and instead do her job for her. He didn’t care about the bounty, and the anguish in his voice, in his eyes, seemed to support that statement. Seemed like a win-win situation for her.

“All right then,” Fang shifted her attention to where their similar prey was supposed to be. “You just want the kill, right? Have at it. I’ll take the bounty when you’re done, so lead the way, Inigo Montoya. Let’s get this son of a bitch.” What better way to utilize the other slayer to his full potential than to use him as bait, or if he was really as good as he made himself sound to be, a weapon. She could at least sympathize with the need for revenge, as it was basically the same reason that brought her to these shores, trapped her in them as well.

—

For a moment, he thought she was going to argue with him. And he would have fought back, of course — Emilio was nothing if not damn stubborn, after all — but he was so goddamn tired. He wanted to get up there, wanted to dust that vampire, wanted to pretend it made him feel a little better, wanted to go home and drink himself into a stupor after and tell himself it was a celebration instead of a fucked up method of coping. He wanted to do all of that without arguing about it first, without having a stranger ask questions he didn’t want to answer.

But then she shrugged, and she didn’t argue after all, and there should have been relief in that but he felt just as empty, just as tired. Nothing ever fixed him. Nothing ever came close. 

He nodded as she spoke. “I just want the kill,” he confirmed. His brow furrowed a little at the name, and he shook his head. “My name’s Emilio. Not Inigo.” Not that it mattered, but he didn’t want to do this whole thing with her calling him the wrong name. That’d be annoying. Head up, he brushed by her to the entrance to the building. No elevator, though he would have refused to take it anyway. His knee would ache for days, he knew, would be so bad that he might not be able to walk once the adrenaline of the fight wore off, but he’d rather be in pain than reveal weakness to a stranger. Given the choice, Emilio would always prefer hanging himself to asking someone he didn’t know to cut the rope. 

The trip upstairs was a quiet one, since neither of them were particularly interested in talking. His heart was pounding in his chest, anticipation of the fight filling him with a pleasant buzz that never lasted long enough to amount to anything. “Just stay out of my way,” he warned the other slayer lowly. “You can have your bounty, but the vampire’s mine.”

—

“Fang,” she growled, back in her unnecessary Batman-esque voice. Back in Japan, it was the norm for the local slayers, deepening their voices so as not to reveal any hints regarding their true identities, their civilian identities. Fang already thought it was strange back then, even when she just started her training with her late mentor, considering they were already wearing the oni facemasks that was meant to scare the monsters, to remind them that they weren’t the only group stalking the night. She didn’t think the voice was, how the kids would say, extra until she got in this town, until it was just here cosplaying a character now played in the movies by the same actor who will never escape that time he played a sparkling vampire. “Have at it, Emilio.”

It didn’t matter, whoever got the kill. At least not with this job. It was just a simple elimination bounty, basically just take the vampire out and take a photo or a souvenir as proof that it was long gone. Come to think of it, one could just fake all that as easily as photoshopping a corpse or bringing back some other guy’s ashes. Didn’t even have to be the ashes of an actual corpse. Could just be ashes from something else, something burnt down. The people who put out these hits, surely most of them knew that. But then again, there was no price great enough for a good night’s rest. Fang would know.

Fang also, even if she would never admit it, harbored a liking for the extra work, the nitty gritty of the job. For most of her life, after her parents’ death and before her mentor’s passing, this had been all that she had, all that made her feel like her life had a purpose, why she was spared instead of her parents. If this was taken from her, the very concept of being out here and hunting down vampires and whatever else goes bump in the night, she wouldn’t know what to do. Maybe repair more VCRs. God, that thought almost made her vomit. “All right,” she let him go first, not even making any effort to watch his back. Worst case scenario? They eat him, which could still be a golden opportunity for her to kill them all while they’re chowing down on an Emilio taco. “No takebacks.” 

Whatever this guy had on this particular vampire, Fang didn’t really care. All she cared about was the money, the bounty. Still, she followed his lead while keeping a safe distance between the two of them. In her mind, she wouldn’t even make the effort to help him fend them off, if there were even more than one or two. It was wishful thinking, though, because when it comes down to it, when the vampires attack? Fang’s instincts would never let her not slice and dice at least one of them. It’s just who she was.

—

No takebacks. He nodded curtly, pleased with the words. The last thing Emilio wanted was someone getting in his way, slayer or no. His vengeance was his, and his alone. The thought of letting someone else do it for him, of allowing a stranger to kill what should have been his… It felt like a betrayal. His family, his daughter deserved more than that. He’d already failed to save her. What kind of father would he be if he failed to make the people who had killed her pay for it, too? What kind of man? 

They stood outside the door to the vampire’s apartment now, and Emilio let the feeling of the undead inside wash over him. That all-too familiar shiver up his spine, the way his stomach clenched in anticipation. He liked the fight but, if he was being honest, he liked this part, too. The part where the adrenaline was just starting to build, where his body’s knowledge of what was coming kick-started its response to it. 

He let himself revel in it for a moment before lining up with the door and delivering a solid kick to the wood with his good leg, the vibrations reverberating through the limb as the lock gave way. Thanks to his superior strength, it only took one kick; no time for the vampire inside to prepare.

Or vampires, rather. Three of them, all staring at the now-open door. Emilio zeroed in on his target single-mindedly, gripping his stake as he surged forward. “Looks like you get to have some fun, too,” he commented to Fang, ducking as one of the vampires recovered from the shock and came at him. He shoved them in Fang’s direction; they weren’t what he was here for, and he wasn’t doing anything else until he’d taken care of his business. 

—

“Fun?” Fang psh’d. She wasn’t here to have fun. More importantly, she wasn’t here to help this suicidal Emilio guy. “Oh, no, this is all you, amigo.” If he wanted so badly to kill the vampire, he’ll have to do this on his own. He’ll have to kill the other vampires, too. Fang was NOT going to lift a finger until they were all dead, him and/or the vampires. Fang was only here for the bounty. Fang was going to do the smart thing and bide her time, swooping in at the last second after everyone else was spent. Fang was—getting a vampire shoved in her face! What the actual fuck?!

In retrospect, Fang should’ve known this was going to happen. A part of her did. When one of the vampires ran toward them, mostly at Emilio, she already had her hand on the hilt of her katana, tightly wrapped around the handle, ready to slash at something that came her way, something undead. It was her instincts. It was her entire being. So, when the vampire was shoved toward her, she had little hesitation to draw her late mentor’s sword, greeting the oncoming idiot with the steel across its chest. “How much are YOU worth, baka?”

The stupid vampire was confused, but not confused enough to realize it was biting off more than it could chew, so it leapt back, away from the half-masked slayer’s range. Another vampire lunged at Fang, the other one that wasn’t Emilio’s target apparently, but she managed to avoid its attack by simply stepping back. Realizing they had the numbers advantage, the first vampire joined in the frenzy, with Fang forced to be on the defensive. Lucky for her, she was still faster than these guys and they were very predictable. Newly spawned? Inexperienced with their new state? Under some sort of distracting influence? Whatever the case, they were going to die if they didn’t stop tempting her blade. “Only here for one of you, but I can do this town a solid by taking you two out as well.”

—

She was stiff, but that was hardly surprising. She reminded Emilio of his sister, just a little. Rosa had been similarly serious, dedicating herself to the cause above all else. It was the reason why their mother had made no secret of preferring her to the rest of them, the reason why she was set up as the heir to the ‘top’ position in the family in a way that was never in question. Rosa had been a far better slayer than Emilio, and Fang probably was, too. But better didn’t always mean as much as people assumed it would. Rosa still died. Emilio still lived. The world still spun on, despite making very little sense. 

He had no doubt that Fang would leave him to die in a heartbeat if it meant furthering her own cause. In a way, there was some relief in that. Knowing where you stood with people was always better than not knowing, even if you didn’t stand anywhere good. He watched as the other two vampires combined their forces to go up against her, but there was little concern in the way he glanced back at her. She seemed like she could handle herself. If she couldn’t, he’d take the sword after she was dead. It was a nice sword.

Turning his full attention to the guy he’d actually come here to kill, he threw up an arm and shoved it against the vampire’s throat, pushing back with all his strength until the creature’s back met the wall hard. “¿Sabes quién soy?” The words were a quiet growl, meant only for this vampire and not for the other two or the slayer refusing to fight them. The vampire’s eyes widened, and he nodded, eyes flickering back to his companions. “I am going to kill them next,” Emilio told him, taking some joy from the way the vampire’s eyes shot back to meet his again. He cared about the other two. Emilio wondered what they were to him. Friends, lovers, family? It didn’t matter. He’d taken all of those from Emilio, back in Etla. 

Deciding he was no longer content with just killing the vampires, Emilio grabbed the one he was holding by the hair and tossed him across the room, sending him sprawling. It caught the attention of the other two, who turned away from Fang. “I changed my mind,” he announced. “I am going to kill them all. He dies last. I still don’t care about the money, but you can help me with these two if you want. If you don’t, that’s fine, too.” 

—

The pair of vampires threw themselves at Fang again, in a desperate bid to take out the woman with the sword. The half-masked slayer managed to dodge the first idiot by simply taking a few steps back, a look of disappointment behind that oni mask. It seemed the two lackeys didn’t appreciate her earlier comment. No matter. Fang didn’t appreciate them either. When the second guy tried to have a go at her, she didn’t pull back this time, slicing off his hand by his wrist in one clean slash. If only she could do the same to non-undead perverts. With a kick, she pushed the newly christened Captain Hook back.

That was when Emilio made his bold announcement. Or stupid, if you’re on the vampires’ side. Fang simply shrugged. “I already gave you a hand,” she delivered that quip dryly, even though she intended it as a snide remark, as if it was just a meaningless fact. To emphasize her point, however, she pointed at the vampire’s floppy hand on the ground. Gross. “You want some head, too?” As if on cue, the first vampire from before tried to attack her from behind, only to get his throat pierced by her katana’s blade.

Fang didn’t even turn to look at the other vampire guy, already knowing he would try the same. All of them did. It wasn’t a bad strategy, really. Sometimes, you have to take all the advantages you can. Shame Fang heard him a mile away with that shuffling and growling. With her eyes glued to Emilio’s, she forced her blade through her victim’s neck, cutting its way to freedom to the side. The vampire’s body plopped to the ground, though half of the neck was still attached to its shoulder. “There,” she heaved a sigh, calmly walking away from the lackeys and toward the couch in the other side of the room. “Have at it.”

—

As she fought, any of that earlier stiffness melted away. Her movements were fluid, easy. She was good. Definitely better than Emilio, something he could confirm now as he really saw her in action, saw her actually trying to fight instead of just sidestepping to avoid one. He had plenty of training, knew all kinds of moves and tricks, but most of his fighting was based on brute force instead of fluid movements like Fang’s. He was a tank — designed to take damage as he dished it out in hopes that he’d give more than he got. It had gotten him this far, but it was certainly less fun to watch than what she had going on.

She busied herself with her two vampires, and Emilio focused on incapacitating his. He wanted the vampire dead, but he wanted him to suffer first. The foot of his good leg came down hard on the vampire’s knee, the resulting crack and scream bringing a feral grin to the slayer’s face. It felt karmatic, in a way, even if this vampire wouldn’t live long enough to develop a limp or suffer in chronic pain from the injury the way Emilio had. This wasn’t the specific vampire who’d caused the slayer’s injury, but that didn’t matter. Specifics rarely did, with Emilio. Not when it came to this.

By the time he turned back to Fang, she’d already ‘disarmed’ one vampire and piercing the neck of them both. Not enough to kill them, but enough to put them to the floor. The vampire whose leg he’d just broken scrambled into a sitting position, attempting to crawl towards the other two. “Please,” he begged, “please just let them go. They weren’t there. I met them after, they’ve never even been to Mexico.” Another day, the pleas might have had some effect on him. He might have softened, might have at least let the vampire’s companions live. But today? Today, he was running on such little sleep after a night of memories playing out like horror films on the backs of his eyelids, and the vampire on the ground behind him had been one of the directors. Emilio had no kindness left to offer today. Maybe he never had.

He stepped towards the two vampires Fang had incapacitated, kneeling down next to the closest. Already one hand short and sputtering from the wound in its neck that wouldn’t kill it, sliding the stake between the vampire’s ribs almost felt like mercy. There was no fanfare to this kill, no words uttered to the vampire before it dissolved into dust. This was not who Emilio was here for. This was collateral damage. The wails of the vampire he’d come to confront were nice all the same. That’s what it feels like, he thought viciously. Now you know. Lifting himself back up, he walked over to the second vampire and repeated the move, making more dust in the floor. It felt as empty as it always did, but there was still that moment of thrill. There was still that split second reprieve. It was all he ever really got these days.

—

Fang had been too busy with her own problems to fully study Emilio’s fighting, though she didn’t really do that, even if she wasn’t busy. The stolen glimpses did tell her that he wasn’t messing around. Dude was a slayer, all right, and he wasn’t a newbie. Might not even be one of those annoying locals she’d encounter once or twice. Those guys are the worst, especially since one of them stole her kill, her attempt to avenge her late mentor, the only reason she risked everything to come to this part of the world. What an asshole.

“Mexico, huh?” Fang raised an eyebrow, still using that gruff fake voice of hers. She took out a small digital camera, previously abandoned at Sara’s repair shop, now fixed (as fixed as she could make do) and working, to take some photographic evidence of the vampires they’ve just slain. Well, Emilio, mostly. But her client wouldn’t know that. Nor would they care. Most clients she had that wanted these damned things dead (again) tended to focus on that part, the part where the damned things were dead (again). Or finally. For the last time? “Glad I’m fast.”

Or at least she thought she was. Fang managed to take a quick shot of the one of the hench-vamps she’d neutralized but she only got the other hench-vamp’s leg, with the rest of that other guy’s body already dissolving into dust. It looked like a half-finished Photoshop attempt at removing the dead undead from the rest of the photo, but blurry as fuck. Oh, well. She had that guy’s other shoe from before anyway. Should work fine for the client. “Eh, should be fine,” she heaved a sigh and shrugged before stowing the camera away again. “So, that seems personal. Should I leave the room? So you guys can fuck?” It didn’t dawn on Fang that she forgot the rest of the phrase: “each other up”. Not that the other guy can do much with that broken leg anyway. Yikes.

—

He’d almost forgotten Fang was in the room at all. So focused on his empty vengeance, he’d let everything but himself and the vampires fade into the background. It was a stupid move, he knew; the kind of thing that got slayers killed. But Emilio didn’t much care about dying anymore, if he ever had at all. Not that it mattered much here. Fang didn’t want him dead. If she did, she would have left the room when they realized they were dealing with three vampires instead of one, would have just let him fend for himself. He still would have come out on top, but she wouldn’t have known it by looking at him.

Glancing back to her now as she seemed to take what one of the vampires said and roll it over in her mind, he shrugged. “Mexico,” he repeated with a nod, offering no further explanation. It wasn’t as if he could hide his country of origin; his accent was heavy enough to give him away. Anyone who knew dialect well enough could probably even pin it to a specific region. But the details of his story, the reason why he did what he did, why Mexico mattered… That was just for him. Him and the bastard whimpering in the floor a few feet away.

Emilio turned back to it, rolling his eyes as Fang spoke. “Stay or leave,” he replied. “I won’t be long.” He didn’t think the vampire knew anything. If it had, it would have said something, would have used it as a bargaining chip to save its friends. “Do you need anything else from this one?” He didn’t care about her bounty, but she had given him a helping hand in that fight. He wouldn’t dust the last vampire until she was ready for it. That’d be enough to repay whatever debt he owed her for her help here.

—

“Nah, I’m good,” Fang simply shrugged after taking a quick photo of the last vamp. She had spent days on this job, though mostly on the tracking part. Fortunately, he slaying was made easier by this guy from Mexico apparently. Real class act. At least according to what Fang had seen with her own eyes after this first encounter. No sexist remarks about her thicc thighs or whatever. Not that anyone has ever had the balls to make those remarks, considering she ran around with half her face masked by a demonic visage and with an actual katana. Ball busting would not have been just a phrase. “I’m good…”

Fang took a look around the apartment as she tried to buy time for her mind to once again become uncluttered. Whatever this Emilio guy had with these vamps, it seemed personal. More importantly, that meant he wouldn’t try to fight her for the bounty, right? He’d said as much, and acted like he wouldn’t, but Fang never did trust these gaijin slayers like she did her old band, even though she was a gaijin herself and most of the time the only gaijin at play. There were a few things that seemed valuable, but her pride prevented her from taking anything of the sort. It wouldn’t have looked cool. Definitely not as cool as this Emilio guy and his personal revenge thing was. “I got the photos. Thanks for those, by the way.”

As she started to walk toward the door, having turned her back on him without any hesitation, Fang kept her wits about her. Just in case he tried to do something funny. Like take her out for the bounty that he wouldn’t even know how to cash in probably. She’d been betrayed by slayers in this town before. It wouldn’t have been surprising if Emilio followed in those assholes’ footsteps. With one foot already out the door, she called out to him one final time, fuck that last vamp if it heard him. It’d be dead anyway soon. “You ever hear of a similar bounty, keep me in mind, all right?” Fang took a business card from her pocket, with nothing on it but three different phone numbers, clearly of burner phones. “A girl’s gotta pay her rent.”

—

She was good, and that was all he needed to know. Ignoring the final desperate pleas of the vampire, Emilio drove the stake home and watched as the monster dissolved into dust beneath his hands. And the world was still dark, even without that vampire in it. He still felt empty, but he’d known he would. He always did. Today, at least, he chose not to let it show. The other slayer had already seen a little more than he would have liked for her to see, already heard more than would have been ideal. He wasn’t going to give her any more than she’d gotten already.

Nodding at her thanks, he straightened up and kicked at the dust gathering in the floor, sending it scattering. “No problem. Glad you got what you needed.” He didn’t care anything about bounties, but it was clear she did. So long as she never got in his way — and so long as none of the bounties she was after were people he gave a shit about — there’d be no problems between them. 

Looking towards the door as she called back to him, he nodded to the now-empty apartment. “Sure thing,” he replied. “I hear of any bounties, you’re my first call.” It probably wasn’t true. If Emilio heard of any bounties, he was more likely to immediately forget it. But it would be a good idea to keep her number on file anyway. If he was going to stay in this town, he’d need to keep track of the slayers in it. For better or worse.

[moss8e]

I am hyperfixacting on flower husbands (dont mind the misspells) Starting off with 3rd life, they try to have that domestic life in a death game, and at first it works fine, even when Jimmy hits red, but when the war happened, I think both of them knew that Jimmy would die that, but even then, they still had hope. But he did die, the canary curse is born, and Scott goes on a grief ridden rampage basically and ends up dying as well, where they are reunited in what seems to be Scott's afterlife. In empires, they don't exactly start on the best foot basically, but they grow to love each other, even between the issues with Xornoth, Joey, Sausage, Fwip, all of that, then, Jimmy goes to Fwip to try to get his cod head back, and well it doesn't go well, and Xornoth is free again, and to make sure he doesn't do any more damage, Scott takes his life to stop him because if one dies so does the other, and we are brought back to Scott's afterlife once more, where he and Jimmy are together, where nothing bad happened and it's okay. Last life there wasn't much there other than Scott giving Jimmy a poppy and the two when boogey's they didn't kill each other. same with Double life, while they weren't soulbound, they both had ranches. Limited life though, there is a bit more, Scott saying I love you to Jimmy and Jimmy never responding, I think that is because he remembers what happened in 3rd life and he doesn't want to give Scott something to latch onto, something that will be the first out and ruin his chances of life. And even while Jimmy hunted Scott down, he still offered his time to him. Empires two, I am a full supporter of the centuries au where Jimmy is from the original empires and such, so he is just watching this man who looks and sort of acts like the one he used to love from distance, knowing that he can't fall in love with him again because it'll just hurt them both.

In witchcraft, while Jimmy wasn't Milo, a lot of people just pretend he was, and the idea of Scott losing Jimmy again but this time having magic to try to bring him back is just so, and it works, he won the thing and to bring back his lover, Scott gave up his magic, and he was perfectly okay with that if it meant having Jimmy back. They are doomed from the start because Scott is a survivor and Jimmy is the canary, a match that would never end well but in some way or another they love each other, even from a distance.

Also the only time that they are truly happy together is in the afterlife

[zodarii-dae]

constantly going feral over prophet jimmy. jim with screaming nightmares the week before a life game, knowing how everyone is going to die and knowing he can't prevent it. waking up in a cold sweat every night towards the end of esmp 1, the rapture plaguing his dreams. just... seer jimmy.

[xx-satoranogerocs-xx]

jimmy doodles

[shadowsndaisies]

codename: nightingale - performance

Reference: Young Justice Season 1 Episode 24

WC: 9.1k

synopsis: the team tests their acrobatic abilities and robin takes a trip down memory lane. aka the one where ng is a supportive girlfriend. ft. couply vibes from our favorite non-couple. 

main masterlist

codename: nightingale series masterlist

a/n: I know I'm consistently inconsistent, but. it means a lot to hear from each of you and to see your comments and responses to what I write. it's hard to believe that there are only two updates left in the season, but it's been a long time coming. I do plan to continue with this series, but the breaks will probably be similar to the ones many of you have already been experiencing. thank you again for all your dedication!

BRUGES December 22nd, 20:08 CET

You weren’t really sure how to feel as you stood before the crowd. Standing on the ground beside Conner, you were dressed in a white and red leotard, identical to the ones the rest of your team was wearing. Each of you was wearing a similar mask that covered the top half of your face, and while you pulled your daggers out, your eyes connected with Conner’s, he seemed to recognize the slight unease in your expression. Before he could comment on it, the Ring Master was walking into the spotlight, and the crowd seemed to get louder as he started the night. 

“Damen und Herren, Mesdames et Messieurs, Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to the Haly International Traveling Circus! Where the world in the center ring is your oyster, and these are our latest pearls! The Daring Dangers!” he announced, and you straightened out, blades twirling in your hands.

“Dan Danger!” The spotlight focused on Dick as he swung from a trapeze high above everyone’s heads. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched; part of you absolutely amazed at how he moved in the air, and part of you trembling with fear as your brain flashed to the memory he had shown you at the start of November.

You held your breath as he launched from his trapeze and somersaulted in the air opposite M’gann, “Dawn Danger!” Haly announced, and the light focused on her for a second. 

“Diane Danger!” The light moved to Artemis as she notched three arrows and then to Roy as he did the same, “Dane Danger!”

You nodded at Conner as you took your starting position, knowing your alias was coming soon. “Dean Danger!” Haly called, and a light shone on Conner, who was juggling barrels. You watched the moves, and as soon as he tossed two barrels, you ran and pushed off his crouched back. Vaguely you registered Haly’s “and Dana Danger!” announcement as the light shone on you.

You sent two blades flying clear across the ring, through a few hoops where they hit their bullseyes, triggering confetti cannons that shot up in time with Artemis and Roy’s release of sparkler arrows and Dick and M’gann’s well-timed tumbles through the hollow barrels that Conner had tossed. You barely blinked as you tucked down into a roll and came back down, using the momentum to spring up into a handspring with the agility of a trained acrobat. 

“You'll never see another trapeze act like this, folks! And all of it, without a net!” you had straightened out and returned to the podium beside Conner, new blades in hand, just in time to hear Haly’s statement. You winced at the thought before your eyes caught on the pained sound that Dick made. 

“Robin!” M’gann’s shout had your gaze shooting up immediately. And your heart leaped up as you watched Robin fall, the imaging too real for a memory, paired with shrieks from the crowd. 

“Don’t blow our cover!” Robin instructed as he fell, and your eye twitched.

“Dean,” you hissed, at Conner, eyes dipping to the barrel in his hand, and he nodded, understanding your meaning. 

“But saving your life's okay?” Conner asked, sarcasm dripping from every word as he launched the barrel up in the air with enough force to meet Dick in the air and then push him back up to where M’gann was coming back around for another pass from the trapeze. 

“What did I just say?” Robin chastised as M’gann caught him.

“The crowd couldn't see me using telekinesis from below,” she countered, dropping him back at the platform of the trapeze frame. “Besides, I've been using it all night. I'm not exactly the acrobat you are,” M’gann adds as she lands beside him, the two of them wearing show smiles and waving out to the crowd.

“Yeah, neither am I right now. I think I've caught that 24 hour bug that's been going around the circus,” Dick admits, and you make a clicking noise in contempt that only Conner could hear. 

“But the show must go on,” you note with an obviously upset tone.

“Yes,” is all Dick answered. 

Your eye twitches once more as you start hitting targets that Conner was lobbying up in the air, most containing some confetti or glitter that would explode mid-air. You have a brief flash-back of the mission briefing, the one you hadn’t technically been invited to but had stumbled onto, to the great annoyance of Dick.

[FLASHBACK- MOUNT JUSTICE]

“Advanced weapons tech have been stolen at manufacturing plants throughout Europe. And each theft coincides with tour stops made by the Haly Circus. Batman is sending us undercover to catch the thieves,” Robin had led the briefing, and no one else had commented on it. 

But you had sent him a look that made it apparent that you didn’t believe that Batman had authorized anything, but you also trusted Robin too much to make that a public fact.

“This clown car have room for one more?” Roy asked with a faux cheerful expression. 

Your brows dipped as you looked at him. You weren’t completely sure where you stood at the moment. Everything he did to antagonize Artemis earlier this month still didn’t sit well with you. But this was Roy, who was practically your brother; after all the years he’s supported you and everything you’d been through together, there was no simple answer. 

“Uh..” Dick shot a look at you, noting your stormy expression, “We've got this covered,” he offers hesitantly. 

Your forehead creases as Roy leans closer to Robin, talking in a hushed tone you can’t hear. Whatever he says has the slightest effect in twitching Robin’s lips down. Not enough to be noticeable unless you’d been paying rapt attention to the interaction. 

Haly’s announcement pulls you from the memory, and you realize you’d subconsciously been doing your routine and were now standing on one foot in Conner’s hand, hitting a final confetti target before being tossed up in the air for a summersault and then caught by Conner once more. “Put your hands together for The Daring Dangers!”

“Didn't think you’d make it through!” M’gann adds as you all regrouped together on the center podium, waving out to the crowd with show smiles.

“Neither did I. Help me backstage,” Dick admits, your eyes flashing something dangerous as you and M’gann loop an arm around Dick on either side.

Subtly you support his weight, Conner, Roy, and Artemis flanked you as the team made their way backstage. Your eyes caught on Ray, the stage hand, as he talked with the next act as you passed by.

“Ray, have you seen my other torch?”

“Here, you dropped it outside the train.”

“Thanks, you're a lifesaver!”

“Break a leg!”

Haly’s introduction timed up perfectly, “Bear witness, ladies, and gentlemen, to the Dragon's Breath!'' and a second later, the Ring Master himself is walking back to the backstage area.

The twins immediately swarmed, “Haly, what's the deal? Giving the top slot to those Danger kids?”

The other pipes in, “That's our slot!”

“Was your slot until you missed that performance in Paris,” Haly scoffs, looking at the twins and then glancing at us.

“Carlo was sick! He's better now,” one twin argues

“Plus, those Dangers are a sham! They say they're brothers and sisters. They don't even look alike!” Carlo butts in, and you can’t help the quirk to your lip because he’s not wrong. A few of you could probably pass for siblings if the masks stayed on, but not all of us.

Haly simply waved a hand at them, “Ah, you just don't like the competition!” he huffed, shooing the twins away. When he turned around again, he noticed the man in the suit standing just a few feet away. “Ah, for crying out loud, not you again! We're in the middle of a show!”

The man in the suit offered an unimpressed expression, "Then we'll talk after. But we will talk. Another city last week, another tech firm robbed. Another stop on your tour. If I prove you're responsible, I will shut you down.”

Haly frowned at the man, “I've got three minutes to gather props and get back to the center ring," and promptly turned to grab what he needed. 

The suit noticed us when Haly walked off and approached, “Faraday, Interpol." He introduced himself, and you made eye contact with Robin. He hadn't mentioned Interpol during the briefing. "New act?” The agent asked. 

“Yeah, just joined the tour," you affirmed, plastering on the same camera smile you used at all the events Oliver would drag you to. 

“Probably clears you. But don't get too comfortable. Haly's going down for this," Faraday warns before stalking off. 

You were crouched on a roof with Robin and Miss M as you all observed the prospective target when Superboy spoke up, “If Interpol's already on this, why are we bothering?”

“Because Batman said so," Dick deflected, “Why? You had something better to do?”

You turned back to look at Dick and quirked your brow, you were well aware of the significance this circus held for him, but no one else on this mission was. To them, his attitude was most likely abrasive.

“How do we know the thieves will hit here?” Artemis asked from her perch with Roy; you let your eyes drift toward them and were happy to see they were both still in one piece. 

“There are more obvious targets,” Roy supplied, begrudgingly seeming in agreement with Artemis.

“And Faraday will have them covered!” Robin shot back defensively. “But I analyzed the tech already stolen, and the patterns suggest this is the place.”

M’gann interrupted with a soft voice, “How are you feeling?”

Her question had you turning back to Robin, features softening. You could see the strain he was putting himself through. 

“Lousy, actually, but I'll manage,” he offers, and a frown pulls at your lips.

You were ready to butt in and tell him maybe he should stay back, but before you could, Conner cut in, “Contact! North-East quadrant.” You all watched as a hooded figure approached the gate and managed to flip their way over it. Their acrobatic skill was apparent. “Looks like we know why Carlo missed their performance,” Conner offered.

“Could be Carlo, could be his brother,” Robin reminded everyone. “Keep an open mind, and move in!”

You repelled down, Robin doing the same by your side, though you noticed as he landed a bit harsher than normal, before turning and trying to find your mystery acrobat again. 

“Did you see where he went?” Robin asked as we regrouped, and everyone focused on finding any sign of your culprit.

Conner landed beside you, and a minute passed before he answered, “The warehouse.”

You all managed to slip into the warehouse undetected and took up positions surrounding the hooded figure from the railing above.

Robin laughed, drawing his attention, and that’s when you realized under the hood that he was also wearing a mask. ���Caught red-handed! Red faced too, I'll bet.”

Artemis glared at him, “Acrobatics won't get you out of this.”

You saw the baton before he had it all the way up, and your eyes went wide, “Look out!”

No one else had a chance to say anything before your offender utilized a mock of devil's breath (fire) as a distraction. You all split up to avoid being burned, tumbling away from the heat. 

“Somebody do something!” You huff, pushing yourself up and looking down at your arm, you can feel a burn there, and you bit down on your cheek to keep from letting out a pained cry.

“Those crates are full of live ammo! Move!” Roy shouted, and your eyes went wide. Roy jumped down toward you and helped you up, pulling you to your feet before tugging you after him.

You all found a somewhat secure spot and pulled down the metal supports around you, blocking you from most of the blast as the explosion shook the building and shattered the glass windows. 

You waited an additional minute for aftershocks before Superboy kicked down the metal around you, “That guy is dead meat!”

“Superboy, no!” Robin shouted, stopping Conner before he could follow after our mystery firebug.

“You need to get her out,” you tell him as you gesture back to M’gann, wincing when your suit pulls against your burn.

“He's getting away!” Conner argued, and you couldn’t hide your surprise. 

You could feel the rage pouring off of him. You hadn’t felt something this intense from Conner in a while. It was potent but awkward. You were all upset, angry, and annoyed, but no one to his extent, even with them being as close as they were.

You frowned at him, “And that matters more than Miss M? The fire's killing her!” You remind him, and suddenly the rage evaporated; his fluctuating emotions became increasingly more baffling with each mission.

“Right right!” He corrects, taking M’gann into his arms and running out from the smoke.

With the pressing concern of M’gann’s health resolved, Robin turns to the rest of you. “Artemis, NG, Arrow! Find the thief!” he shouts, but you all see as he collapses.

“Fuck,” you mutter, rushing up to him.

“Because he matters more than you?” Artemis asks, repeating your words from seconds earlier.

“You're still off your gigs, pal. We're getting you out too,” Roy determined as he and Artemis each looped an arm around him. “Birdy, you alright?”

“Fine! I’m right behind you!” You affirm, wincing once again as you grab your grapple, every movement of your arm paining you.

By the time you returned to the train, your arm was throbbing. You had applied burn paste on the bioship in the small bathroom while everyone else decompressed and bandaged it up, deciding to deal with it fully once back on the train, hoping to avoid any questions about it. Everyone seemed to be in a mood when you touched down and relegated themselves to quietly fuming while preparing for bed. Between the six of you, there were two compartments, one for the three boys, the other for the three girls. M’gann got ready for bed first, and Artemis approached you while she was in the shower. You were seated on the floor beside your bed. Despite having changed to get in unnoticed by anyone who happened to be wandering about, you still smelt like smoke and had no desire to get that on your bed. Artemis gently sat down beside you, hands hesitating before gently grabbing at your arm. You let out a hiss at the contact despite how light her touch had been. 

“I saw it, before we carried Rob out, but it was hard to see, and there was fire everywhere, so I thought maybe it wasn’t as bad as I had thought, until you walked out of the change room with a bandage on…” she trailed. 

“It’s fine,” you tried to shrug off. 

“I know I messed up last time, but I thought about what you said. I want to be on this team, NG, I want-“ she cuts herself off, dropping your gaze. “I want them to be able to put their trust in me,” she says firmly. 

You stare at her for a second, knowing she’s trying to be exceptionally open with you right now. Allowing you to read every emotion she’s got while holding your arm and meeting your masked eyes. Tiredly you pull the mask from your eyes, and hers widen. 

“I’m not giving you my ID, not yet. I-” you take a deep breath cutting yourself off. “it’s a lot for me. But I could use some help with this burn, if you’re offering,” you respond. 

“Yeah, let me grab the med kit,” she nods, stretching out to grab a box from under her bed. 

When M’gann came out of her shower, Artemis had cleaned your burn and debrided what she could. You had taken a mild painkiller and used a localized anesthetic on the area to keep the pain at bay. M’gann’s eyebrows raised at your unmasked face but simply offered you a warm smile once you replicated though much more muted.

“That looks pretty rough, I didn’t realize you got burned,” M’gann notes, her tone full of concern. 

“It’s alright. You were looking pretty rough yourself,” you muse tiredly. 

“You feel any better?” Artemis asks, looking back at the Martian.

“Lots, but I’m still pretty drained,” she admits, walking over to sit beside the two of you on the floor. “Why don’t you wash up, Artemis? I can take over,” she offers. 

“You sure?” Artemis asks hesitantly. 

“Go,” you affirm. “It’s not like I can shower until this is properly bandaged up anyways,” you shrug,

“Alright,” she nods, standing up and grabbing her stuff before disappearing behind the doors and down the walkway to the shower.

“Big step,” M’gann notes as she picks up where Artemis left off, though her eyes glance up to make uninhibited eye contact with you. 

“Maybe I’m just high on the pain killers,” you lament. 

M’gann giggles, “No, but whatever the reason, I’m glad. I know you know I caught glimpses back in Biyaliya, but I’ve done my best to respect your privacy and the things I learned during that mission,” M’gann admits. 

“Yeah, we’ve all come a long way since Biyaliya, haven’t we?” you muse. 

“Very,” she affirms. “How goes the empath development? My uncle mentioned he and Canary have been corresponding regarding your training,” she inquires. 

“Did he tell you he thinks I may be able to manifest as a telepath? If my empathic abilities continue to develop the way they have been, I mean,” you tell her lazily, the pain killer defiantly helping in your unusual calmness.

“No, he hadn’t,” she admits. “How do you feel about that?”

“Honestly? I’m not sure yet, I just started understanding my empathic abilities, grasping how to read others, how to interpret the feelings, and it’s still so easy to get overwhelmed, when everyone else’s feeling are just too loud, and I can’t manage it all flooding at me… but Canary said I’ve always been an empathetic person, that I find it in myself to forgive and understand quicker than most, we just never realized it had to do with my latent abilities more than my experiences.”

“It’s both,” M’gann assured you. “You might be an empath, NG, but that just means you can read other people’s emotions, empathizing with them has more to do with your character than it does with your powers. It’s both, not one or the other, you’re more than your powers, don’t let their inherently emotional core make you think any different,” she says seriously, picking up the tub of burn cream. 

“Thanks,” you manage to croak out, staring at M’gann. You hadn’t realized just how much of a toll the overpowering nature of your powers had been taking lately.

“Anytime, Birdy,” she smiles warmly once more before wrapping your arm up. She added an additional layer of waterproof bandaging to help protect your arm while you showered. “We can check it in the morning, but the bandage should you last you through the day, and we can clean it again tomorrow night,” she adds as she finishes.

Artemis returned a moment later and smiled at your now cleaned and bandaged arm, “You’re up, Birdy,” she mused, tossing her towel over one of the hooks in the compartment. 

You smiled at the two girls, grabbing your towel and shower things before exiting the compartment yourself. 

BRUGES December 23rd, 08:13 CET

When you got up the next morning, M’gann and Artemis unwound your bandage, inspected it, and added more of the burn cream before rewrapping it. The three of you exited the compartment and met with the boys for breakfast. You had just finished when you spotted the return of Interpol Agent Faraday. 

“Another weapons plant is hit, and once again, the circus is in town. I don't believe in coincidences,” Faraday warned.

“I don't care what you believe! My people are not responsible! I did a bed check last night. Every single member of my troupe was asleep in their bunks!” Haly defended, and your brow quirked as you looked over to your team. Everyone was dressed in their performance outfits, but given that your arms were usually on display with the leotard, you had opted to slide a compression long sleeve on underneath, perfectly reasonable given the snowy weather outside, the sleeves covering your bandaged arm perfectly. 

“Well, we sure weren’t,” M’gann notes in response to Haly’s defense.

“And if he's lying about us…” Artemis trailed off as everyone settled with the idea. Your gaze flickered to Dick, caught as his eyes narrowed on Haly and then dropped to the floor. 

“Let’s go, I think it’s time to debrief,” you decide, urging your teammates to move and catching Dick’s gaze once more before you all moved back into the boys’ compartment on the train, closing the door behind you. 

Everyone took up varying spots in the compartment, Artemis and Dick seated on one side, M’gann and you seated on the other, while Roy and Conner stood on each end. 

“S, two thieves, right? The fire breather and one of the acrobats,” Artemis offered, starting the debrief. 

“Dressed in identical clothes,” M’gann offered. 

“Maybe not just two,” Dick decided, pulling something up on his holo-screen. “Here's the Madrid security footage.” you all watched silently as a hooded figure bent the bars. “And now, Paris,” confusion spread as you watched another figure walk on some cables, just like a tightrope. 

“So the strong man and the clown too,” Roy supplied. “If the entire circus is involved, Haly himself may be the mastermind,” he voiced, and you cringed internally, fighting to keep your face straight, knowing exactly where this was headed next. 

“You don't know that!” Dick argued, standing up to get in Roy’s space.

“It would explain his lies,” M’gann offered, though her tone was soft, as she tried to de-escalate the tension between Dick and Roy.

“I told you to keep an open mind!” Dick huffed before storming out. Your lips pursed, you wanted to run after him, but you also wanted to ensure that everyone was at least somewhat on the same page. 

“Hello, Megan! I'll read Haly's mind!” M’gann offered, but before anyone else could comment on it, Roy took a step forward with crossed arms.

“I’m not sure we can trust you to do that without tipping him off,” Roy decided, and your eye twitched; you were getting really sick of questioning everyone’s trust.

“Or maybe you don't trust her, period!” Conner roared, stepping forward, voicing your thoughts. “I heard you talking to Robin back at the Cave. I know you're only here to spy on the three of us!”

“There's a mole on this Team,” Roy said so seriously you could see his sureness, but it did little to change your opinion. “And there’s good reasons to suspect all three of you. Both Artemis and Miss Martian have already been caught in lies,” both of their heads dipped a bit, “And you could be programmed by Cadmus without even knowing.”

“Or maybe I take your head off without even trying!” you’re once again struck by Conner’s aggressiveness. You’d thought he’d sorted through most of it with Canary. He’d been doing better, but suddenly it seemed like it was all coming back, and you couldn’t place why.

“Okay, let's all take a time out,” M’gann decided, placing a gentle hand on Conner’s shoulder and tugging him back a bit. “Before we do something we'll regret.”

“Speak for yourself,” he grumbled, allowing her to lead him out of the compartment to cool off. 

Artemis waited until the compartment door shut again, “None of us are perfect. But each of us would give our lives for this Team. So try and keep an open mind,” Artemis reminds him, and it’s reassuring to hear your words echoed by another, but also to see the calm, collectedness she managed to keep about her this time. You were proud of her and offered her a smile of your own as she left too. 

“She’s not wrong, and it’s exactly what I’ve been saying for months, Roy,” you huff. 

“Just because you’ve gone all kumbaya on me-“

“Don’t,” you snap. “Just don’t. I don’t know why my empath abilities seem to be such a focus for you lately, but it doesn’t make me any different than I have ever been. And this.. This being on edge, being angry, whatever it is, you need to knock it off because I can only take so much.” 

“Birdy…” He says it softly, and you frown. 

“I’m gonna go find Rob,” you decide, pulling a jacket from Robin's bag. “Figure your shit out, Roy.”

You make a quick stop to grab one for yourself before running out after Dick. You find him while he’s stopped in front of an old poster on a tent. When you get closer, you know why. You stare at it a second longer, The Flying Graysons, and you take a deep breath before walking up next to him. 

He’s quiet as you saddle up beside him, and your fingers fidget for a second, trying to think of what to say. “They don’t know, and so they don’t understand, they can’t understand why this is so important to you, or why you’re being evasive and defensive… But I do. I know, I understand, and I’m with you all the way. If you truly think that Haly’s not involved, then he’s not, but I’m begging you Dick, please don’t block me out,” you say softly, voice barely louder than a whisper, as you drape his jacket over his shoulders and tentatively grab his hand. 

He doesn’t answer, but his fingers tighten around yours, and you release the breath you’d been holding. Only a few moments later, his com rings, a quick glance lets you know it’s Wally, and Dick answers, linking you in while you both stand out in the snow.

“Uh yeah?” he answers lamely, gaining an eye roll from you, though you can hear how bothered he still is in his voice.

“Dude, where are you?” Wally asks; there’s a slight note of concern in his tone.

“Confidential mission,” Dick covers, shooting you a pleading look, “from Batman,” he adds, and your eyebrows raise.

“Wow!” Wally exclaims. “You know what I'm doing? Making a baloney sandwich, kinda like you just did,” he laments, and you can’t help but snort. “Hey there, Pretty Bird, I was hoping you’d be around,” Wally greets, and you smile playfully at your best friend’s tone.

“Hey, Wall,” you muse with a light smile as you and Dick turn to start walking, your fingers still laced together with his. 

“Anyways, I talked to Tornado. You guys are NOT on a mission. Not an official one, anyway,” Wally continues, and you make eye contact with Dick. 

“A friend, Jack Haly,” Dick sighs.

“The circus guy? From your old Flying Graysons days?” Wally asks, tone suddenly soft.

“Yeah. He's implicated in this global crime spree. Someone in the show's dirty, but I need to prove old Jack's clean or he might lose the circus,” Dick admits, and you squeeze his hand.

“Then why not bring me along?” Wally asks. “I know your back story, I know what that circus means to you. It's where you grew up, it's where you lost your-“ 

“I left you behind because you know my back story,” Dick says quickly, effectively cutting Wally off, and he squeezes your fingers back again. “I didn't want my best pal questioning my objectivity.”

“Dude, that's what a best pal's for. Plus, Birdy got to go!” Wally shoots back, though you know Dick understands the immense support and emotion behind Wally’s words. 

Dick’s lip twitches up slightly as he looks at you, “Birdy didn’t give me an option,” he huffs. 

You smile back at him, “I really didn’t,” you affirm into the coms, and it’s true. Dick had tried to convince you that you weren’t needed on this mission, but you didn’t relent until he gave in.

BRUGES December 23rd, 22:34 CET

“And that's our show! Farewell, good people of Bruges!” Haly announced, gaining massive applause in response before exiting the ring and joining everyone else in the backstage tent. “Pack it u! The train leaves for Geneva in two hours!” he reminds everyone as we all load our gear. 

It’s nearing that two hour mark when everyone’s out by the train. You’d been helping Conner with the boxes that housed all our gear, both for the show and for our suits, when you heard Ray come up to M’gann. 

“Need a hand?” he asks, and you watch him reach out to grab the box in M’gann’s grip, tensing slightly because you know the box she’s got right now has Artemis’ suit inside. 

“I-I'm good, thanks,” she deflects gently, plastering on a small smile.

“Maybe one of the others could use some help?” you offer instead, with a fake smile of your own. “A lot of them seem to have that flu,” you note, seemingly offhandedly.

Ray nods, “Yeah, it's going around,” he affirms before offering one last smile and walking to the aforementioned performers sitting, trying to catch their breath. 

All aboard, everyone, now!” Haly’s shout comes minutes later, and you frown as you make eye contact with Roy. 

“Someone's in a hurry,” Roy notes, tone laced with suspicion, and you can’t help but search for Dick in response.

The train had been going, and you were on your way to Geneva. You were all in your compartment looking at M’gann, who wasn’t feeling well.

“You look better,” Artemis notes as she looks at Dick, “you too,” as she nods down to your arm, which still hurts, but not as bad. 

“It’s getting there,” you nod.

“I feel better,” he nods, “I'm sorry, M-Dawn,” he frowns, turning to M’gann where she was lying in her cot. “I hope you didn't catch it from me.”

“I feel so silly. Who knew a Martian could be vulnerable to a human virus?” she hums, clearly tired.

“H. G. Wells?” you offer with a slight smirk, eyes twinkling when you catch Dick’s lip twitching up.

“Look, when did you first feel sick?” He asks, cutting you off before you can try for another joke.

“Just after boarding the train,” she admits, and you can remember how she had been loading up gear before, seeming fine, “it came on suddenly.”

Dick frowns, “Same with me, the other night. I remember Ray rubbed my head for good luck right before we went on,” he explains.

“Ray? That roustabout?” Conner interrupts, “He touched her before we boarded. That guy must be a walking Petri dish,” he scoffs, shaking his head.

You’re struck with a thought, the seed of one which you didn’t like. As if sensing your sudden idea, Dick’s blue eyes focus on you. You freeze for a moment. You’re used to the whiteouts of his domino, so being able to see his eyes like this makes you pause just for a moment because you realize this is the look he must always give you on missions, the one where you both just seem to know the answers together, without ever saying a word.

“Yeah, yeah, maybe,” he mutters, nodding to the door. 

You quickly turn, and he follows you out of the train compartment. You look left as he looks right, and then he’s pulling your wrist, heading to the right, and you follow after him at the sight of a white button-up.

“Dana, Dan! You look refreshed!” Haly cheers, staring at you and then at Dick.

Dick’s still holding your wrist, and you can feel the tension coming from him. The nostalgia and longing that he automatically associates with Jack Haly and his past, and you have to bite back the innate need to comfort him because you would’ve hated it if someone tried to pity you, so instead, you shift your hand subtly from where it’s hidden behind his body and in front of yours, so that you can hold his hand, lacing your fingers together and offering a small squeeze.

“Thanks. Uh… Jack, how long has Ray worked for you?” he asks, squeezing your hand back once more.

“A bit about the start of the European tour,” Haly says after a moment of silence. “Poor lad's down with the same flu as the rest of them,” he adds, and you feel the team's presence appear behind you.

“We'll check on him, it’s the least we can do,” Artemis offers with a false tone of empathy.

“If you insist,” Haly smiles, and the team starts making their way toward the back of the train. 

You smile at Haly as he continues on with what he was doing before, while M’gann forces herself up to join you.

“You should stay in bed,” Dick tells her. 

She offers a coy smile, “As a friend of mine once said, I'll manage,” she teases, and you nod at both of them before following after the other three.

You manage to make it all the way to the back of the train, and when you get there, you’re honestly not that surprised to find the compartment empty. 

“I guess he wasn't that sick,” you drawl, sarcasm laced into your voice.

“Does this circus have an elephant I don't know about?” Roy asks with a furrowed brow.

“Not on foreign tours,” Dick answers, the words tumbling out quicker than he probably should’ve let them. 

Roy spares you another glance before opening the box, “empty,” he notes, and you lean over his shoulder to take a look.

He’s about to shut the box when you notice something off, “no, wait!” and he freezes as your hand reaches out and brushes up against the side of the box. “Ash,” you note, throat a bit dry as it begins to fit into place.

“From the warehouse fire in Bruges,” Dick notes, and he seems to come to a similar conclusion.

“Uh… guys?” Artemis calls, “I found Ray,” she says, holding up a face mask of who you all had assumed to be the Circus’ roustabout.

“Split up!” you decide, voice urgent. “Search the whole train!” you add, and everyone files out, heading to different carts. 

You and Dick split off toward the front compartments, and he’s a few feet ahead of you before he stops and looks back at you with wide eyes. The space is silent except for the sounds of the train moving and that’s when you hear it, the muffled shouts coming from one of the compartments. 

“Top?” you offer, trying to trace the sound. 

“No. Haly’s office,” Dick answers with a grimace before kicking the door open. 

Your lips part when you spot Haly, stripped down to his undershirt and pants tied up on the floor in his office. 

“Shit,” you mumble. 

“Who did this to you?” Dick asks, tone urgent as he pulls Haly’s gag down. Though you bite back a sarcastic, who do you think dickie?

“Ray,” Haly gasps, “Ray, the roustabout! Right after the train left Bruges!” he tells you, and Dick freezes to look back at you. You offer him a roll of your eyes and your best duh expression. “Hey, I'm not Houdini here!” Haly shouts, gaining Dick’s attention once more, and you grab one of your ring daggers, tossing it, hilt first, to Dick to cut through the ropes.

“Tell Dawn!” He shouts to you, and you step out into the hallway, clearing Haly’s sight before taking off. 

“Dawn, come in!” you call out over the comms. 

“Uh… Dana?” she answers.

“Dan tried to reach you, the other way,” you hint.

“I think the flu's knocked out my other way,” she admits and you stop running just in time for Dick to catch up to you.

“That clinches it,” he decides, and you nod. 

Clicking your comm again, you call, “Dane, Dean, Diane, come in!” you call and hear the beep from Dick’s comm as it’s linked to the call. “We're chasing someone who's stolen Dawn’s act. Her whole shtick, if you catch my drift,” you hint.

“I got him! But he's on to me,” Conner calls through, “Exiting the dining car now,” he adds, and you both take off towards the cart. “He's gone top side!” Conner corrects, and you skid to a stop, tossing a door open and climbing up to the top of the train, Dick right behind you.

“That won't work on me, clown!” Conner shouts.

“That's no clown,” you argue, theory confirmed.

“He's the Parasite! The guy who once stole Superman's powers,” Dick supplies, as you both stop across from Conner.

“As if you, kids, are who you claim to be!” Parasite argues, “please,” he scoffs, willing his disguise to melt away, leaving us staring at the alien. 

“Stay out of his reach!” you order, “there's no flu going around, the weakness comes when he makes physical contact and feeds on the powers and abilities of others,” you explain, pulling out a few more daggers. 

“I happen to be a bit of a glutton today. Chowed down on the skills of nearly every loser in this troupe. But, oh, my! But the pièce de résistance was Dawn Danger,” he drawled, and you saw as the rest of the team started appearing on the train roof as well. “Or whatever her real name is. Thought I'd pouch on her trapeze skills imagine my surprise when she tasted like Martian Manhunter, instead,” he grins. “She made a lovely appetizer. But guess who I want for my entrée,” he teases, and your eyes blow wide.

“SB!” you shout, trying to warn him, but it’s too late.

Using M’ganns telekinesis, Parasite pulls Conner to himself, hand wrapping around his neck while he drains him. “M-hmm, now that's the full body Kryptonian flavor I love!” Parasite taunts.

“Everyone, stay whelmed!” Robin orders, “Subdue, but keep your distance!”

Both Roy and Artemis pull out their bows, but before they can get a shot off, Parasite uses heat vision to burn them to ash in their hands, and your lips part in surprise.

“You know, I almost never say this, but I'm sated,” Parasite decides, dropping Conner's body, which falls at his feet. You catch as Parasite shifts his weight and adjust accordingly, to leap up as he takes off, “Hate to eat and run!” he calls back, but you timed it right, managing to catch onto the box he’s touting with him, but miss it as he hits Rob, nearly knocking him off the train. 

You get a sound footing and climb up the box until you can launch yourself at him. There’s a distant shout of “NG!” but you’re unable to progress any further before Parasite stops you. You managed to get a hold of him in time to find something of interest, but before you could continue, he’s turning to face you.

“Sorry, no hitchhikers,” he huffs, hitting you in the chest with his Kryptonian strength and knocking you back down to the train. 

You land harshly on your back, groaning when your head hits the train’s top before your body bounces off, and suddenly you’re falling. There’s a split second of panic when your hand ghosts your hip, the action trained into you by Dinah and Ollie, but there’s no grapple. There’s no pressure from your belt, no sting of a bow slung over your shoulder. For a moment you’re just falling. You think of Dinah and Ollie and how crushed they’d be, of Roy and how angry he already is, and how much worse it’s bound to get if you were to die in front of him.

Vaguely you hear shouts of “NG!” and “Birdy!” but it’s not until a hand wraps around your wrist that everything comes back to sharp focus, the sound of the train, the cold of the air, and as your eyes snap back open you’re staring straight into blue. Dick’s got a stern look on his face as he grips your wrist tight. straining as he tries to pull you up, but you know it must be taking all of his energy because there’s no leverage for either of you to grip onto. A second passes as you hang there, eyes sweeping out to the mountainside under you, “Birdy,” he grunts. You reach up and tuck a thumb drive into Robin’s wrist.

Your eyes meet his again, his eyes are wide, but you offer a wry smile. Before you can say anything, Roy is sliding down next to Dick, throwing a hand out to help grab onto you, grip bruisingly tight. Artemis and M’gann quickly drop down and help the boys pull you up, tugging until you’re back on the train with everyone else.

“Birdy? Birdy, are you okay?” your eyes had locked with Dick’s for a second, but it was Roy’s frantic tone that was addressing you. 

“‘M fine,” you say, pushing yourself to a sitting position.

“Conner!” M’gann’s shout has you turning your head to look at what’s happening. 

“C’mon, let’s get you up,” Roy’s voice is soft as he offers his hands to help pull you back to your feet, Artemis and Dick standing on either side of you as they maneuver you back toward the other two. 

“You alright?” M’gann’s voice is soft as she checks Conner over.

“Fine, fine!” he huffs, the anger and annoyance evident.

“You're drained!” Dick corrects. “Parasite took more power than you even have!” he argues, “Heat vision?”

“I have the genetic potential for it!” Conner reminds him, “Must've been enough for him.”

Dick lets out an irritated groan pushing forward, and you make hesitant eye contact with the two archers on either side of you. 

“Go! I'll manage,” Conner says, and the rest of you follow after Dick.

“Are you okay?” Roy’s the one to ask after you’ve climbed back down.

“I’m good,” you dismiss. 

“You hit your head pretty hard,” Artemis adds, concern evident. “Plus the arm Rob grabbed you by was the burned one…”

You look down and see specks of blood coming through the bandage and bite back a sigh. You hadn’t even realized that the arm Dick caught you by was your injured one; you probably pulled the skin off the burn, aggravating the injury more. 

“It’ll be okay, I’ll re-wrap it before I change,” you swallow, looking at both archers. 

“And your head?” Roy’s tone conveys his obvious big brothering. It’d be sweet to know it still exists if you weren’t in the middle of an emotionally charged mission. 

“Still smaller and smarter than yours, so I think I’ll manage,” you joke.

He scowls at you and at the slight snort that escapes Artemis, “Not what I meant, and you know it,” he grunts.

“No concusion, but I’ll probably have a nasty bump,” you relent.

“Good, and let’s not tell D and O that you almost died? I don’t think they’d be very happy with me,” he adds.

“My lips are sealed,” you assure him. 

Artemis scoffs again, “mine aren’t,” she smirks viciously at the way Roy pales a bit. 

You chuckle as you pull her into your compartment, so you both can get changed. 

You find yourself seated with the rest of the team shortly after, dressed in your suits, a new wrapping on your arm. Artemis had spare arm braces from her stealth suit, black in color, that she lent to you so you could use them to cover and secure the wrappings, which you did. 

“It's not a complete debacle,” Robin announces as we all settle. “Birdy picked Parasite's pocket, and got this flash drive,” he announced, and you feel some eyes slide to you questioningly.

“Did she?” Roy’s tone has an edge, probably because you didn’t tell him

“Looks like Parasite's working for Intergang. Everything he's stolen, they're all pieces of something!” Dick explains as data starts filtering through the holo-screen. 

“It looks like they’re putting together a weapon that generates…. Black holes?” you read over his shoulder, eyes blowing wide at the revelation.

“Oh, come on! To build that, you need a particle accelerator!” Roy argues.

“Like the Large Boson Collider in Geneva?” Robin offers, tone flattened, as he glances over at Roy.

“The circus's next stop!” Roy realizes. “But now that Parasite can fly, he's got a big head start on us!” he tacks on, gaze zeroing in on M’gann and Conner.

“Sorry,” her mumbled response comes out. 

“Not your fault,” you assure her with a glare at Roy.

“But this thing could wipe out entire cities,” Dick explains. “We need to hurry.”

“You, me, and Birdy need to hurry,” Roy corrects. “Without powers, the others would hold us back.”

Your eye twitches in response, but Artemis quickly counters, “Hey, you're not the only one with a backup bow,” she challenges, holding up a compact crossbow. 

Before anyone else can say anything, there’s a loud thud as Conner slams his fist into the wall of the train compartment, leaving a massive dent, “my powers are back!”

Dick stepped forward, lips tugging down, “how?”

Even M’gann looks a bit shocked, “I'm still-“

“I guess Kryptonians recover faster than humans or Martians,” he shrugs and eyes shift to M’gann, but you note the way Conner rubs at his arm subconsciously, and your eyes narrow.

“Don't even think about leaving me behind,” M’gann laments.

Roy turns to you, “Well, that settles that,” you shrug.

GENEVADecember 24th, 00:37 GET

Rocking up to the particle accelerator, you spot the body and crouch to run a quick diagnostic on the man. 

“Happy Christmas Eve, everyone,” you mumble while ensuring that the man would be okay until the proper authorities and medics could arrive.

“Trail of destruction, this way,” Robin tags on and you nod as you stand back up, all of you running back into the building, nearly silent as you go.

You can hear it when the accelerator starts up, and Rob’s quick to pull up his holo-screen, “We need to take him down, or at least lure him away so we can safely disengage the-“

“SB!” you whisper shout when he shouts out and starts charging at Parasite.

“No, wait!” Robin tags on, but it’s too late. Conner’s charging straight at him, revealing your location as well. 

“Seconds? No, I couldn’t,” Parasite teases, eyes lighting up green.

You cringe as you watch Parasite pull Conner forward with M’gann’s telekinesis and then let out a breath as SB decks him, but another wince quickly follows when Parasite pulls him back and launches him out. 

You suck in a breath as Parasite begins flinging Conner around the lab. Even Roy seems to be getting antsy when he raises his bow, “What's wrong with-“

Before he can finish, M’gann lays a hand on his shoulder, “wait,” she commands. He hesitates but does, “I might have an idea…”

We watch as Parasite pulls Conner to him a third time, grabbing onto him and feeding on his power again, “Ah, what a rush!” he goads. “How do you do it, kid? Even Superman never recharged this fast,” he says, waiting until Conner was drained before tossing his body to the side. Your eyes slide to Conner, trying to ensure he is still breathing while M’gann explains her plan.

Parasite quickly clicks something on the panel before him, “Alright, Dangers, come on out! Only a couple of minutes before this baby's done warming up and eats Geneva.

“What do you think?” she asks, and your eyes dart to the Martian.

“Big risk to take on a theory,” Roy bites, but Dick’s gaze settles on you.

He offers a slight quirk of his lip and a barely noticeable shrug; it could work.

You nod, “Do it. Go!” you order, and everyone splits up.

M’gann steps out, making her entrance obvious to the target as she all but waltzes up to him, “what do you have against Geneva, anyway?” she asks. 

“Never liked the food, but the menu keeps improving,” Parasite chuckles, rubbing his hands together, before summoning M’gann to him. 

“I'm just the appetizer, remember?” she huffs, managing to duck out of the way. “Here's the main course!” she shouts, knocking his feet out from under him. 

Everyone springs into action. Roy shoots off an arrow that covers Parasite in a foam-like substance that traps him where he is as it hardens. 

Parasite is quick to react; using his pilfered Martian telekinesis, he pulls Roy’s bow, and then Roy himself into the air, “Foam? You think foam can hold me? Or stop me from crushing you with a thought?” he demands. “Combined Martian and Kryptonian powers here!” he scoffs, using his strength to start crumbling the material.

“But do any of those powers free you before I sabotage your death thingy?” Robin asks from his spot beside the keyboard.

“This one does,” he groans, finally freeing his arms and aiming his heat vision at Rob, who ducked down in time.

Artemis drops down next, shooting an arrow that emits gas, and you roll a few marble bombs quietly into the gas’s bounds. When Parasite turns his heat vision on Artemis, it sets off the gas, and the explosion sets off your marble bombs, adding to the flames.

Roy drops to the ground with a groan, and you quickly run up to check on him. Dropping down on a knee, you roll him onto his back, and when he groans again, you breathe. Your hand checks his pulse to ensure it’s not too elevated.

“Birdy-“ he groans, trying to sit up.

You push him down, “No. Stay down, Red Arrow,” you hiss, forcing him to catch his breath and slow his heart. 

When Parasite stands up and starts goading, you pop back up and move closer to Artemis. “So clever… trick me into igniting inflammable gas… but you forgot… doofuses double dose of invulnerability… Fire can’t… touch me,” he argues, but you can hear the strain the flames are starting to take, and a small smirk graces your lips. 

“Unless you make a meal of my powers and get my weaknesses as a side dish!” M’gann all but hisses at the villain. 

Realization falls upon Parasite quickly, “No, No!” he shouts before finally succumbing and passing out.

“Aw, poor baby, something you ate?” M’gann teases.

Robin quickly gets back to the keypad, and in seconds he has shut the system down. 

You let out a sigh as you hear the doors bang open. Agent Faraday and his squad of Interpol agents run in with trained precision. “We'll take it from here,” he states as his team puts out the fire. 

“All yours,” you smirk lazily as Robin walks over to Stand beside you.

“Thanks for the tip, by the way,” he adds, smiling at you both. “Definitely helps to prep the inhibitor collar in advance.”

“Glad to be of service!,” Robin nods, and you bump his shoulder promisingly.

While Faraday turns to coordinate with his team, you and Rob turn back to yours. You turn in time to catch Roy taking Artemis’ proffered hand, pulling him back to his feet. 

“Wow… He deigns to touch the hand of a suspected traitor,” Artemis drawls sarcastically, and you can’t help but snort.

“Mind open,” Roy replies, repeating your request from earlier. “I guess I never really saw you three in the thick of it before,” he admits. “Superboy's a hot-head,” he adds on, turning to the boy in question who had just wandered over with M’gann, and you can’t help but let out an even louder snort, one Roys glares at before adding, “but I know I'm not one to talk.” You smirk victoriously and he shakes his head before continuing. “You could each have betrayed us here, you didn’t. I’m sorry I doubted any of you. There is no mole.”

Roy’s admission immediately affects the general comfort level around you. Conner, M’gann, and Artemis all seem a bit lighter, Dick’s shoulders relax the slightest bit, but your eyes are focused on Roy. You want to believe him, want to think that the mission genuinely changed his mind, but you know him, and more than that, you can sense his emotions, and yet you can’t see a change.

GENEVADecember 24, 10:06 GET

The train made it to the Port of Geneva train station, the rest of the team was getting all their bags and gear together for exfil, but you had decided to go with Dick as he said his goodbye.

“So,” Haly drawled, “The show will go on. And I have the feeling I have you, Dangers, to thank,” he decides, staring at Dick, though his eyes flick to you quickly before returning to Dick. 

“Don't know what you mean,” he shrugs.

“No, of course not,” Haly agrees, a kind knowing smile on his face. “But I'm guessing

you'll be leaving now.”

“Time to move on,” Dick tells him, shaking his hand, and you can’t help but smile softly.

“Well, Dick, I'll miss you,” Haly tells him, and you can feel the swell of emotion in the room, and you don’t need to look in his eyes to know that this moment is so much more than Dick could have ever asked for when he decided to come back. 

He’s still quick to disagree. After all, he had covers to protect, “It's Dan! Dan Danger!”

Haly chuckles, placing a hand on Dick’s shoulder, “Son, you've grown, but some things never change. Like the sight of a Grayson on the trapeze. You can't fake that. Can't hide it,” Haly tells him, and you can’t help how your breath catches in your throat. “So, doing old ring master one last favor?” he asks softly. 

Haly’s standing in the center of the ring, spotlights focused, “Ladies and gentlemen, the farewell performance of the Daring Dangers! Introducing Dan Danger!” he announces, and the lights switch to Dick, who waves at the audience. 

You smile as you stand next to Conner in the wings, waiting for each of your queues. Dick looked so graceful as he launched from the trapeze platform, he always seemed at ease when he was in the air, and you were glad to see it again. You knew he needed this, this opportunity, for closure at the Circus in a way he’d never had before. You only hoped it’d finally help relieve some of the guilt you knew he still carried, despite how misplaced it was. 

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[knight-of-the-graces]

The Sheriff is afraid of water.

Water gives life, especially in the desert.

So why is the Sheriff, the keeper of their isolated little town, so afraid of the rain?

Well, it's a long story, but not one he can really remember. And the water brings the memories, memories that aren't his, not truly. They belong to another man, in another world, in another time.

What memories, you ask?

Memories of swampwater and blue orchids, the only pop of colour in a land of dull browns and muted greens and soft greys.

Of vibrant purple-blue scales in clear, salty water that remind him of love and family and home and safety and small, damaged eggs in crabtrap bags.

Of grey-brown-green fins in muddy, murky water that his heart misses with all the desperation of a canary in a coal mine, gasping for another breath, singing another warning to the skies miles above his small, feathered head.

Of stilt shacks and laughter, laughter that fills his heart with joy when it comes and sorrow when it fades away.

Of a world seen through the tinted eyeholes of a mask as much his face as the scales beneath.

(Scales? The Sheriff doesn't have scales. He has feathers. Cursed feathers.)

Of love and of heartbreak.

Of war and of peace.

Of music and of dancing, and of falling and of rising.

He sees finned brown tails and wonders why he can never bring himself to look away. Wonders why his heart is filled with a longing he can't understand.

But just as quickly, as his fingers leave the water he so carelessly trailed them through, he forgets again. The memories, at least; the feelings fade, but never truly disappear.

The Sheriff is afraid of water.

Because it used to be his home.