3 Slade ficlets, one with non-con sex
Wheeeee! Done with the deathfics table challenge! Now I just need to finish the million other ones and stop joining new ones...
Title: Illusion
Author: Lara
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 202
Fandom: DC Comics
Summary: It's just an illusion. He didn't do it. He couldn't have.
Content: Death
Spoilers: Teen Titans "A Kid's Game"
Disclaimer: Don't own DC; if I did, well, a whole hell of a lot of people wouldn't be dead. Also, Slade would never be so stupidly black and white.
Distribution: My site eventually; all others, please ask.
A/N: Written for 30_deathfics for prompt #11, Illusion
It's just an illusion. He's not really dead. His head is not hanging on the wall with your other hunting trophies.
You did not kill your best friend.
...
He repeats the mantras over and over as he slips through security nets, steals a car, uses an alias to board a plane, gets home as fast as he can.
...
The house is empty, still, only dust motes stirring. He moves through it with determination but when he reaches the door to his study, he hesitates.
His hand trembles.
His hand, that can hold a gun steady for hours, trembles.
Forcing himself, he opens the door.
...
It's not an illusion.
And Slade Wilson, so recently back in his own mind--his own body--loses that mind again, breaking in ways his son could never hurt him, shattering at the truth.
From the wall Wintergreen's eyes stare accusingly at him and he knows he'll never get past this.
Joseph is gone but the insanity remains and while a part of his mind works out the details for a decent burial, the other part plans to claim the only child he has left.
He'll give her the illusion of family.
He wonders if she'll break, too.
End
Title: Payment
Author: Lara
Rating: NC17 for non-con sex
Word Count: 155
Fandom: DC Comics
Summary: Slade fulfilled the contract and got his payment in a much darker world
Content: Death
Spoilers: Judas Contract twisted askew
Disclaimer: Don't own DC; if I did, well, a whole hell of a lot of people wouldn't be dead. Also, Slade would never be so stupidly black and white.
Distribution: My site eventually; all others, please ask.
A/N: Written for 30_deathfics for prompt #27, Tight
The boy was so tight--obviously never been breached. Listening to his whimpers of pain--barely audible as he bit back deeper cries--Slade pushed harder, forcing the muscles to open, forcing the kid to accept.
On his knees, his cheek pressed to the dirty floor, surrounded by the bodies of his teammates, he was a beautiful sight.
Slade sighed in pleasure as his groin pressed to the curved, trembling ass, and stilled for a moment, catching his own breath as the kid let out a muffled sob.
Then he fucked Dick Grayson--his payment on the HIVE contract--until the kid screamed in pain and fear, and Slade shuddered in release, draped over the boy's arched back.
The first fuck of many that would never make amends for Grant's death, but it was a very pleasureful start.
His only regret, as spasming muscles squeezed his cock, was that this delightful tightness would quickly disappear.
End
Title: A Visceral Thrill
Author: Lara
Rating: R
Word Count: 244
Fandom: DC Comics
Summary: Slade finally gets a Robin
Content: Death
Spoilers: Nowish in Teen Titans
Disclaimer: Don't own DC; if I did, well, a whole hell of a lot of people wouldn't be dead. Also, Slade would never be so stupidly black and white.
Distribution: My site eventually; all others, please ask.
A/N: Written for 30_deathfics for prompt #14, Lust
Despite rumors to the contrary, Slade didn't love killing. He enjoyed a good hunt, could admire a perfect kill shot, but he didn't get some kind of visceral pleasure from the actual death. He was damn good at killing, but even on safari, he respected his prey and honored their deaths.
The end of a hunt was a reason to celebrate with fine wine, a cigar, comfort--and usually a substantial paycheck--but he'd never felt the kind of thrill he saw in the eyes of his young protege after his first solo kill.
While sex was an excellent way to release the tensions of a hunt, he'd never felt lust while killing.
Seeing it in the young Robin's eyes, disturbed him.
But, then, the kid disturbed him a lot. So different from the first to bear the name, not sociopathic like the second, Drake was too damn intelligent. Too damn freaky. Restrained for years by the Bat's rules and morals, he was a powder keg.
That he'd explode all over Slade shocked him because he never expected it. Grayson had wanted him. Drake just wanted to end the world for screwing him a hundred times. Slade had never expected the kid to want to screw him. He didn't really think the kid felt any positive emotions at all.
Those pretty red lips closing tightly around his cock and those bright blue eyes gleaming with a disturbing mixture of lust and insanity said otherwise.
End
Title: Illusion
Author: Lara
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 202
Fandom: DC Comics
Summary: It's just an illusion. He didn't do it. He couldn't have.
Content: Death
Spoilers: Teen Titans "A Kid's Game"
Disclaimer: Don't own DC; if I did, well, a whole hell of a lot of people wouldn't be dead. Also, Slade would never be so stupidly black and white.
Distribution: My site eventually; all others, please ask.
A/N: Written for 30_deathfics for prompt #11, Illusion
It's just an illusion. He's not really dead. His head is not hanging on the wall with your other hunting trophies.
You did not kill your best friend.
...
He repeats the mantras over and over as he slips through security nets, steals a car, uses an alias to board a plane, gets home as fast as he can.
...
The house is empty, still, only dust motes stirring. He moves through it with determination but when he reaches the door to his study, he hesitates.
His hand trembles.
His hand, that can hold a gun steady for hours, trembles.
Forcing himself, he opens the door.
...
It's not an illusion.
And Slade Wilson, so recently back in his own mind--his own body--loses that mind again, breaking in ways his son could never hurt him, shattering at the truth.
From the wall Wintergreen's eyes stare accusingly at him and he knows he'll never get past this.
Joseph is gone but the insanity remains and while a part of his mind works out the details for a decent burial, the other part plans to claim the only child he has left.
He'll give her the illusion of family.
He wonders if she'll break, too.
End
Title: Payment
Author: Lara
Rating: NC17 for non-con sex
Word Count: 155
Fandom: DC Comics
Summary: Slade fulfilled the contract and got his payment in a much darker world
Content: Death
Spoilers: Judas Contract twisted askew
Disclaimer: Don't own DC; if I did, well, a whole hell of a lot of people wouldn't be dead. Also, Slade would never be so stupidly black and white.
Distribution: My site eventually; all others, please ask.
A/N: Written for 30_deathfics for prompt #27, Tight
The boy was so tight--obviously never been breached. Listening to his whimpers of pain--barely audible as he bit back deeper cries--Slade pushed harder, forcing the muscles to open, forcing the kid to accept.
On his knees, his cheek pressed to the dirty floor, surrounded by the bodies of his teammates, he was a beautiful sight.
Slade sighed in pleasure as his groin pressed to the curved, trembling ass, and stilled for a moment, catching his own breath as the kid let out a muffled sob.
Then he fucked Dick Grayson--his payment on the HIVE contract--until the kid screamed in pain and fear, and Slade shuddered in release, draped over the boy's arched back.
The first fuck of many that would never make amends for Grant's death, but it was a very pleasureful start.
His only regret, as spasming muscles squeezed his cock, was that this delightful tightness would quickly disappear.
End
Title: A Visceral Thrill
Author: Lara
Rating: R
Word Count: 244
Fandom: DC Comics
Summary: Slade finally gets a Robin
Content: Death
Spoilers: Nowish in Teen Titans
Disclaimer: Don't own DC; if I did, well, a whole hell of a lot of people wouldn't be dead. Also, Slade would never be so stupidly black and white.
Distribution: My site eventually; all others, please ask.
A/N: Written for 30_deathfics for prompt #14, Lust
Despite rumors to the contrary, Slade didn't love killing. He enjoyed a good hunt, could admire a perfect kill shot, but he didn't get some kind of visceral pleasure from the actual death. He was damn good at killing, but even on safari, he respected his prey and honored their deaths.
The end of a hunt was a reason to celebrate with fine wine, a cigar, comfort--and usually a substantial paycheck--but he'd never felt the kind of thrill he saw in the eyes of his young protege after his first solo kill.
While sex was an excellent way to release the tensions of a hunt, he'd never felt lust while killing.
Seeing it in the young Robin's eyes, disturbed him.
But, then, the kid disturbed him a lot. So different from the first to bear the name, not sociopathic like the second, Drake was too damn intelligent. Too damn freaky. Restrained for years by the Bat's rules and morals, he was a powder keg.
That he'd explode all over Slade shocked him because he never expected it. Grayson had wanted him. Drake just wanted to end the world for screwing him a hundred times. Slade had never expected the kid to want to screw him. He didn't really think the kid felt any positive emotions at all.
Those pretty red lips closing tightly around his cock and those bright blue eyes gleaming with a disturbing mixture of lust and insanity said otherwise.
End