had to capture it clean

Old Life

AN: I originally wrote this before I deleted the blog. It was only out for a bit though. Enjoy!

Words: 736

          “Well, congratulations, they bought it.”

          You look up at Barbara. “Considering that was the plan, I’m kind of surprised to hear the disapproval in your voice.”

          The redhead just stares at you, “They’ve been chasing the badass weapons dealer known only as the Hell Cat for months. And tonight they find out that said weapons dealer is the sister they thought was dead.”

          You smile, “Don’t forget that I’m also secretly taking down the entire organization from the inside, and making Gotham a safer place. Also known as the entire point behind this entire charade.”

          Barbara just shrugs, “I get it, I do. Things are already starting to improve, but the pain on their faces, I just …”

          You take a deep breath, “I don’t want to know.”

          “You really don’t.” There’s several moments of silence before Barbara sets down a package. “Here’s the stuff you asked for. I’ll see you in two weeks.”

          You just nod and watch her go. After a few minutes, you go and lay on the couch, your side aching from the punch Jason had managed to land earlier in the day. Closing your eyes, you allow your mind to wander.

          It had been nearly three years since you had seen your family. Seven years since you had faked your death, and left your father and brothers behind. And then your mind wandered to that night.

          It had been a worse than usual night in Gotham three years ago. Several inmates had escaped from Arkham and while your entire family had been out trying to capture them, you had been dealing with clean-up. After years of being a hero, you had found yourself wondering if you had ever made a true difference.

          And after some serious thought, you had hung up your cape, and picked up a textbook. A few them actually. In the end you had become an ER trauma nurse. You had done your best to actually help heal the citizens.

           More than once, you had come home bone tired, and emotionally drained. More than once your father, or one of your siblings had held you while you cried over a patient you had lost, and your fear that you might lose one of them.

          That particular night the Joker had come to the hospital with an evil plot to take down your family. You had started the evacuation and gone to stall while it was carried out. You had been more out of practice than you had thought though. You had taken more hits than you cared to admit, still you had persevered.

          You had barely escaped that night with your life, as the Joker had blown the building sky high. You had woken up in a strange place, surrounded by monks. The next year had been full of training without any real explanation. But for some reason you had gone through it all, never questioning it, until an idea about ending a small part of Gotham’s corruption came to you.

         You had left in the middle of the night and enlisted only Barbara’s help. The redhead had been furious, and you couldn’t really blame her. You’d been best friends throughout your entire childhood, and then later in life.

          Looking at it you could see how she had the more difficult role, pretending to grieve, and now lying to their faces about their sister turning evil. As a weight settles on your legs you open your eyes.

          “I thought you had left.”

          Barbara just shrugs “I thought you’d come after me. Should have known better.”

          You smirk “And what is that supposed to mean?”

          She just rolls her eyes before moving to straddle your hips. Leaning forward she pins your arms before leaning forward and kissing you, long and slow. When she pulls back she whispers “Sexy as hell, and moving from one person to another.”

          Moving quickly, you reverse the hold, breaking her hold and moving to the top. Your grin at a surprised Barbara, and kiss her. Your kiss is much more hurried, more fast paced. It doesn’t take long to work your tongue into her mouth, and when you finally pull you grin at her for a second before moving to nibble on her neck “How about we talk about it in the morning.”

          Barbara just smiles “Deal.”

          You’re just happy to have this small part of your old life.


With the fall of HYDRA and SHIELD, Washington was not the place to be. Authorities would be on high alert for anyone to do with the incident and he didn’t exactly had a clean file to present. If captured the best option he could bargain for would to be thrown into a mental health institute. It would take them years to untangle the damage HYDRA had done to his brain.

Anywhere but America seemed ideal. With a metal arm and airport security, airplane wasn’t an option so buying his way onto a ship was his way across the Atlantic. Europe was home in some sense after all the years he’d spent there during the war and after. It only seemed right to go back.

It had been a year since the fall of the helicarriers and although a free life sounded good, it was rough when you had nothing to your name, and you’d only just learnt your name. Still, he had a roof over his head and food which was more than some had. He’d learnt that the hard way, those first few months on the streets weren’t pleasant.

His life was far from quiet with the scream filled nights and paranoid days. There was always something in control, if not HYDRA it was the nightmares. He’d learnt to stay awake for a few days. Eventually he’d succumb to sleep but that would last for a few hours if he was lucky. Dreams littered with memories others couldn’t even imagine. Thankfully he’d taken the reigns back to some extent the past month or so. An improvement maybe? He wasn’t sure.

That night was like any other except the sound of footsteps caught his attention. Bucky wasn’t intending on sleeping that night and he’d spent the hours with coffee and empty notebooks. He had neighbours, but these footsteps were closer. They were inside his apartment. As an assassin you know the tricks of the trade, anyone else might not have heard the gentle creak of the floorboards in the kitchen but he did.

Calmly walking through as he peered around the wall and caught sight of the shadowed figure before hesitating. The realisation he had no need to reach around for the gun tucked in the back of his jeans. At least not yet.

“How long have you known?”

Imagine Poe Meeting Matt The Radar Technician While Captured

Originally posted by d4qp

Originally posted by hardyness

Poe stared curiously at the technician who had come in to clean up the mess Kylo Ren had made of the computers during the interrogation. Poe, of course, hadn’t seen Kylo Ren’s face, but this technician just seemed so…familiar.

“Hey,” Poe asked curiously, “you remind me a lot of-”

‘Matt’ instantly raised his hand before Poe.

“I’m not Kylo Ren.”

“…You’re not Kylo Ren.”

“I’m Matt, the Radar Technician.”

“You’re Matt the Radar Technician.”

“You’ll let me do my job and leave, and you’ll forget I was ever here.”

“I’ll let you do your job and leave, and I’ll forget you were ever here.”

“Good. You’ll pass out now.”

“I’ll pass out now.”

‘Matt’ rolled his eyes at the now-unconscious pilot, wondering how low-budget the Resistance had to be if people like Poe Dameron were all they could afford.

(For Anon)

+1 Broom of Dustbane

I was the GM for this game. It was the party’s first official job. They were level 1 adventurers who had been hired to clean out a haunted mansion and capture the necromancer on the top floor. After clearing out a former living room, they decide that they’ll loot it and see if they could find magic items. Well, this was an ordinary house, there’s not an abundance of magical items.

After growing exasperated after bout five minutes of Perception checks, I just said, “You find a +1 Broom of Dustbane.”

They took it. They just knew it was an important artifact. They held onto it for months of in-game time, never once finding a use for it… until they received a fortress as a reward. An old, dusty fortress.