#nightmare superdorks

[mira-eyeteeth]

Captivating, pt. 2

I finally wrote the final part of this fic (part 1 here). Thanks to @ask-a-pale-experiment for reminding me to get this fic done!

-

Jack had somehow managed to drag himself to his feet and get through the following day while mostly not huddled in a little ball of misery.

Well, not significantly more than usual, at least.

It was only when he got home that evening when everything went wrong.

He'd just shut the door to his apartment behind him with a sigh when someone lunged out of the shadows to grab him and clamp a hand over his mouth.

His mind was racing, wondering how one of his enemies could have figured out his identity and where he lived, while his body was acting already, hands rising to touch his attacker and freeze the blood solid in their veins.

He paused centimeters away when the person spoke in a hissed whisper.

“Shh! It’s all right, I’m not here to hurt you.”

Piki. It was Piki. What the hell was Piki doing in Jack’s home? Had he finally figured it out?

"Don't worry, don't worry, it's just me. It's Piki," the man added, removing his hand from Jack's mouth and pulling off his domino mask, as if Jack somehow wouldn't be able to recognize him with it on. "Look, I'm really really sorry about this, but I promise that it's for your own good."

"Wh-what's-" Jack stammered.

"I promise I'll explain everything. But first…" The shadows rose up to swallow them both, and when light finally returned, Jack found himself in entirely different surroundings. It was a little room with a handful of furniture, two door, and no windows.

Piki let go of him, stepping back. "Sorry. Look, you're in danger-- Wait, no, not like that! I'm not going to hurt you. It's… It’s the Winter King. He’s a supervillain, you might know about him. He somehow figured out that I… ah, well, he threatened you. He’s dangerous, and I don’t know if he might decide to hurt you. So I need to keep you safe. Just for a little while! Once I figure out how to dispose of him, I’ll let you go.”

Jack just stared at him. This. This was the conclusion that Piki had come to. Jack wasn’t sure if he wanted to hug Piki or shake him for being a complete idiot, but he was leaning towards the latter.

Piki fidgeted, looking nervous. “I, er, I got you some books,” he added, gesturing to a stack of them on a bedside table. “Notebooks, too, in case you want to write. Let me know if there’s anything else that you might like, and I’ll see what I can do. With any luck, this should only take a few days. A week, tops.”

Jack doubted that very much.

“I… I’ll just let you get settled in. If you need anything, just knock on the door. The other one goes to a bathroom,” Piki explained, backing further away and slipping out the door, and closing it with a click of a lock.

Jack flopped back onto the bed with a groan. Well, this was a hell of a situation he was in. On the plus side, Piki hadn’t figured out about his secret identity. On the other hand, he intended to keep Jack captive until he murdered the Winter King, who also happened to be Jack. What the hell was Jack supposed to do about this?

He supposed he could always tell Piki about his secret identity. And in doing so, reveal his greatest secret to someone who hated his guts and would at the very least likely attempt to make good on his murder threat. Jack didn’t think it was likely he would be able to succeed, but if he didn’t kill Piki, and likely his brother, in turn, then Piki would likely reveal Jack’s secret identity to everyone he could out of spite. Jack’s life would be ruined. But he didn’t want to kill Piki.

He could wait until Piki and Pitch left to go hunt for the Winter King, and break out of the room. It wouldn’t be hard to make ice to pop the deadbolt out of place. But Piki would no doubt attribute his disappearance to the Winter King, and Jack would be back in the same position as before, unless he faked his own death and moved to a new town. An extremely less than ideal solution, especially as Piki would doubtless try to track the Winter King back down for revenge, if news of Jack’s activities made it past local headlines.

Or Jack could just… stay. Not exactly a sustainable solution, but maybe Piki would eventually get bored and let Jack go on his own. And besides, he was technically living with Piki right now. The current situation didn’t exactly match Jack’s prior romantic fantasies, admittedly, but this was a form of intimacy, wasn’t it? For a given definition of intimacy, at least?

Did Stockholm Syndrome work in reverse? Maybe Jack could talk Piki into having some movie nights together, while he was here. That would be nice.

Yes, this was a good plan. Jack could always think about longer-term solutions later. He was in no rush.

Jack went to go check the stack of books to see which ones Piki had picked out for him. He felt a rush of warmth when he saw that several of his favorite books were there, along with a smattering of works by some of his favored authors and a handful of books he’d had his eye on but never got around to reading. Piki had been paying attention to what Jack had been looking into at the bookstore, that was so sweet.

Jack picked up one of the new books, along with a blank notebook and a pen. He set the writing tools aside and settled back in the bed to start reading.

-

A careful knock on the door preceded Piki’s return a little over an hour later. He had changed into his street clothes and was holding a tray. “Jack? I brought you some food, if you’re hungry?”

Jack looked up from his book and smiled at Piki. He picked up the notebook and straightened up in bed, beckoning Piki over.

Piki seemed a bit surprised, but he set the tray down on the little table in the corner of the room and approached Jack. “What is it?”

Jack swung his legs over the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to him. Piki gingerly sat down beside him, and Jack opened the notebook so they could both see it.

Thank you for rescuing me, Jack wrote.

“What? I mean, you’re welcome, but to be honest, I didn’t expect you to see this that way,” Piki replied.

I know you wouldn’t have done this without good reason.

Piki looked surprised, and a bit skeptical. “That’s… very understanding of you. Thank you. Is, is there anything that you need? Anything that would make this situation any more pleasant?”

Would you stay with me for a while? I’m feeling a little lonely.

“Yes, of course, if that’s what you’d like.”

Can you tell me about your work? I’m sure that having superpowers and running around with heroes and villains must lend itself to some interesting stories.

“Oh, you have no idea…”

-

It had only taken a few days before Jack had managed to persuade Piki into a movie night. It had been easy enough to get him to stay; the simplest way to watch a film would be with a laptop, and Piki couldn’t very well leave a laptop connected to the internet alone with Jack, or Jack might use it to contact the heroes or someone else who would complicate the current hostage situation.

So now the two of them were half-reclined on Jack’s bed, propped up with pillows and watching the scene playing out on the laptop balanced on Piki’s thighs.

“Ugh, this is absolute garbage. This man clearly cannot act worth a damn, and don’t even get me started on the hack job of stage direction that the director is managing. Everyone involved in this production should have been fired,” Piki groused.

Jack smiled and shifted a little bit closer, enough that their sides were pressed against each other and Jack’s hand was half-overlapped on Piki’s. “H-hey, Piki,” Jack murmured.

“Hmn?” Piki made a questioning noise and turned his head to look at Jack. Jack took the opportunity to curl his hand around the side of Piki’s jaw and lean forwards, bringing their faces closer together. 

Piki’s eyelids fluttered closed, but snapped back open before Jack could kiss him. Piki jerked backwards, breaking any contact between them. 

"No! No, this is wrong. This, this is Stockholm Syndrome, or… or you're so afraid of me that you think that letting me take what I want means that I might not hurt you any further," Piki said, looking sickened. He scrambled to snap the laptop shut and lurched off of the bed, away from Jack. 

Jack was left staring at him, stunned.

Piki drew in a shaky breath and stared off somewhere past Jack into space. "This is going to taint everything we ever might have had. I…" Piki shook his head, wrapping his free arm around himself. “I'm sorry, Jack. I… Pitch will take care of you from now on."

Before Jack could say anything, Piki fled the room and shut the door behind him.

-

True to his word, the next time the door to Jack’s room opened, it was Pitch carrying the tray of food. “Here you go,” he said, plunking it carelessly on the table.

“P-P-Pitch?”

Pitch rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m not going to hurt you. You don’t need to shake in your boots.”

“I’m n-not scared. This i-is just the way I t-talk,” Jack stammered out, hating the way that his mouth stumbled over the few basic sentences.

“Ah. Well, nevermind then. What do you want?”

“P-Piki. He’s… L-Look, can I just write it d-down?” Jack asked.

“Fine,” Pitch sighed, walking over to Jack to read what he wrote down.

Piki’s sad, isn’t he?

“That’s a bit of an understatement. Moping and maudlin and distraught would be better words for it,” Pitch replied. 

Would it be better if he was angry?

“I mean, he’d probably be marginally less insufferable then. Why?” Pitch asked.

Jack inhaled and braced for the loss of his career. Because I have something I probably ought to confess.

“What, do you have a boyfriend who’s a superhero or something?”

No. Jack wrote, then let the rime frost spiral down the length of his body, wrapping the identity of the Winter King around himself once more. Pitch gasped and stumbled backwards, breath misting in the air. By the time the transformation was complete, the shock had bled into anger.

“Oh, you absolute bastard,” Pitch snarled, before whirling around and flinging open the door. “Piki!”

“Pitch? What is it, is J-” Piki looked through the door and froze when he saw the Winter King. He broke out of it after a moment, stepping forward as shadows began to surge around his body. “What the hell did you do to Jack?!”

“He is Jack,” Pitch snapped.

“He- what? No, that’s not-”

“It is, Piki. It’s me. I’m sorry, I probably should have told you sooner,” Jack said.

Shock and hurt flashed over Piki’s face, before finally settling back on anger. “You… This has always just been some game to you, hasn’t it? Some hilarious joke, to toy with me? You must have been laughing so much at being able to trick me. Did you share the joke with your friends?” he spat.

“No. I really did, really do care about you. But I didn’t want you to see me as some helpless pathetic nobody. I wanted to impress you, and prove that I was actually worth something. But I didn’t go about it in the best way, I see that now. And maybe… maybe all you wanted was someone pathetic to look after. I don’t know. But that isn’t me,” Jack said, and sighed. “If you really want to fight, then I understand, but I don’t want to fight you, Piki.”

Piki growled, and seemed to struggle with himself. Pitch stepped up beside him, and Jack braced for an attack. Instead, Piki’s shoulders slumped and he stepped out of the doorway. “Just… go. I don’t want to have to look at you.”

Jack left.

-

When Jack got home, he set to packing up his things and preparing to move. It was only a matter of time before his identity hit the headlines, and then he would need to go somewhere else. Gotham was supposed to be nice this time of the year.

But it never came. No bounty hunters showed up at his apartment to try to collect, and nothing happened for days.

Finally, Jack received a note in his mailbox, one that had no stamp, though it did have a return address. It just said, We have a lot we need to talk about, I think.

[mira-eyeteeth]

Captivating, pt. 1

Happy birthday, @sylphidine! I wrote you the first part of a Nightmare Dork supervillain story! It’s set in the same universe as this one(x). It features standard supervillain courting procedures, which, as you may imagine, aren’t generally the best way to go about wooing the object of your affection.

Perhaps it was cliche, but they had first met in a bookshop. Piki had been taking a walk to clear his head and get away from his infuriating twit of a twin when a combination of interest and chill winter winds had driven him to seek shelter in a small cafe attached to a bookstore. Soon he was cupping a warm cup of coffee in chilled fingers and idly wandering the shelves to kill some time. And maybe pick up a new novel. He had been looking to replace his rather ratty copy of Salomé; the spine was practically coming apart on his. The filing system of the place seemed to be rather unintuitive, however, and he was having a hard time locating where the play might be if they had a copy.

A flash of white out of the corner of his eye made Piki turn his head in time to see a young man, white-blond and pale as death, vanish between the shelves. For a moment he fancied that it might have actually been a ghost, that there was something supernatural about this place he had stumbled into by chance. Maybe some kind of terrible accident...

The sound of shuffling books from the next aisle over ruined the fantasy and Piki wandered around the shelf to see the young man shelving a set of paperbacks. "Oh, do you work here?" he asked mildly, stepping forwards. The young man jerked, almost dropping the book he was holding, and turned to gaze at Piki with wide blue eyes. "I was wondering if you could direct me to where I might find a copy of Wilde's Salomé?"

The pale young man stared at him for an instant longer before dropping his gaze and hunching his shoulders, wringing his hands in front of him.

"...Do you not work here?" Piki asked.

The other gulped and opened his mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out and he closed it again, biting his lip.

"...Right. Sorry to disturb you. Thank you for your time," Piki said, giving up on any conversation with the silent waif. What an odd young man, he thought as he wandered back to where he had been searching before he had been distracted. Piki wondered if he was actually mute. Not that it was any business of his, really. He spent a few more minutes browsing before he finished his coffee and felt sufficiently thawed, having found nothing that caught his particular interest at the moment. He shrugged and started to head for the door.

A hesitant tap on his shoulder made him pause. He turned around to find the pale young man from before standing there, eyes downcast and holding out a copy of Salomé. "Oh," Piki said, blinking. "Thank you?" He took the book and watched with some interest as the young man nodded and scuttled back into the dusty labyrinth of shelves.

Piki hummed and glanced down to see that the novel had a sheet of notepaper sticking out from between the pages. He pulled it out, curious, and flipped it over to read the shaky, hastily scratched message that had been scrawled on the sheet. I hope this is what you wanted. I'm sorry about earlier. I'm working on being able to speak with others, but it's I hope you weren't too inconvenienced. Have a wonderful day! Sorry again, -Jack.

...That was actually rather charming. This Jack person seemed to be trying to overcome some personal difficulties of his, admirable. Piki wondered if he was like that with everyone, or if he had found Piki particularly intimidating. Well, probably not, not in Piki's street clothes. If he saw Piki in his proper get-up, fully powered and seething with shadows, well, that would certainly provoke an interesting reaction from the poor boy, he was sure. He smiled a little at the thought and idly folded the note back up to tuck it away.

He headed up to the cashier to pay for the book that Jack had so kindly retrieved for him. Piki snagged one of the pens littering the desk and scribbled a quick Thank you, this was just what I was looking for on the back of his receipt.  He slid the paper to the cashier, folded in quarters to conceal the writing. "I was wondering if you could give this to Jack for me?" he asked, smiling when the woman nodded. "Thank you." Moments later he was back into the chill winter evening, black boots crunching softly through the new-fallen snow as he headed back home, a satisfied smile on his face.

Piki found himself gravitating back towards that cozy little bookstore only a few days later. It was still cold outside, after all, and Pitch was still a twit. Besides, the selection he'd remembered from his last search seemed promising, even if the organization of it was a bit perplexing. Piki knew who he could ask for assistance now. Though...

He stopped by the front desk to buy a spiral-ring notebook and a pen.

Piki wandered through the shelves, and it did not take long for him to spot the flicker of white as Jack vanished around one corner. He was on-shift, then. Well, presumably, at least. It was not outside of the realm of possibility that Jack did not work in the store at all, given that he appeared spectacularly unsuited for retail service. Perhaps he was just some neurotic passerby who took it upon himself to try to impose order on this place. Either way, he was fighting a losing battle.

Piki peered around the shelf. “Excuse me,” he said, and watched as Jack flinched and nearly dropped the paperbacks he had been clutching.

Jack whirled around and met Piki’s eyes for a moment before dropping his gaze back down to the floor.

“I- Did you get my note?”

Jack nodded.

“Well, good. I…” Piki trailed off. He retrieved the notebook from under his arm and tore out a sheet. I’m looking for some new reading material. Do you have any recommendations? he wrote on the dismembered page, before stepping forwards and holding out the sheet and pen to Jack.

It was the first time he saw Jack smile.

He'd returned to the bookstore regularly after that, and it became something of a routine for Jack and him to exchange notes in lieu of conversation for an hour or so as Piki nursed a coffee and became increasingly more familiar with the bookstore's layout and Jack's routine within it. It was when he prompted a soft little chuckle from Jack with one such note that Piki realized just how much he wanted to hear Jack laugh and speak with him, how much he wanted to be close to the young man.

If only he had some inkling of how exactly he could go about doing that. He had to be careful, about this, after all. Everything had to be perfect.

-------------------------

Piki really could have put just a little more effort into his secret identity. The way it was right now, a monkey could have figured it out. As a civilian, he didn’t bother to act even a little bit differently, or change his voice, or stop being glued to the side of his brother who obviously made up the second half of their little super-criminal enterprise. Seriously, twins who called themselves twins in their supervillian title? Might as well hand out business cards with their civilian identities. On top of all that, Piki wore a costume that left very little to the imagination, in more ways than one.

Not that Jack would complain about that particular choice.

That was, if not for it, he probably would not have taken any notice at all of the Black Twins. They were still small fry, barely on the radars of the City's heroes, let alone something of consideration for the higher-level villains. If Jack hadn’t immediately been able to recognize the bookstore patron who he had been having his eye on for the better part of two months, he would have completely forgotten first encountering them back when he'd been making his escape from the Guardians after nabbing the blueprints for the City's newest tech facility. They'd had some unkind words to say about ruining their reconnaissance mission or something, Jack wasn't sure. He mainly remembered the crick in his neck from the double-take he'd done at seeing Piki.

So it had been a blessing in a terrible, god-awful disguise.

And now, oh, now they were interesting. Or, at least Piki was interesting; clever and ambitious and leading a double life as well...

He could really do without Pitch, though. Pitch was brash and harsh and he had nearly given Jack a panic attack when he stormed into the bookshop to yell and drag Piki away. Pitch was a bad influence on Piki, he could see that much when he ran into the Black Twins during their nights of crime.

Which had admittedly been happening more frequently now that Piki has caught his eye. He couldn’t help it, he wanted to know more. The dark of night and villainous deeds felt more special, knowing that Piki was operating under the same star-strewn sky.

And, well, it was just nice to be able to actually talk to Piki.

Compartmentalization was a hell of a thing. He could trade effortless witticisms and barbs with any heroes or rival villains while he was the Winter King, but the second he went back to Jack Sickle, he couldn’t open his mouth without tripping over his own damn tongue. Trying to make small talk with strangers, or worse, acquaintances who might actually remember him, got his anxiety and stress skyrocketing in a way that heroic pursuit and very, very narrow escape never could. He could scale a skyscraper and break through the most sophisticated security system in the City, but he couldn’t ask Piki if he wanted to get a coffee with Jack at the cafe ten feet away.

Piki had been kind and patient and accommodating for Jack. And Jack… Jack had been pathetic. It wouldn't be surprising at all if Piki looked down on him. It had been months and he still couldn't so much as say “hello” without his stammer rendering the word incomprehensible.

Jack didn't want Piki to think he was pathetic. Jack wanted Piki to be impressed, to be awestruck. He didn't want Piki to have to be patient with him. He wanted to prove that he was worth something.

Jack Sickle couldn't do that. But the Winter King could.

All he needed to do was get Piki alone.

-----------

Piki swore under his breath and darted down a branching tunnel, cursing Pitch and cursing himself for ever thinking this was a decent idea.

Getting into some kind of glorified pissing contest with one of the most powerful metahumans in the City was a mistake. It had been so tempting, when they heard rumors of the latest heist target the Winter King was planning, to try to snatch it out from under his nose. It would have been so satisfying, returning the little favor that the Winter King had paid them. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

His spite was going to be the end of him, and possibly the end of Pitch, too.

Now they were split up, and Piki was lost in the warrens of the sewers, and judging by the way the temperature was dropping all around him, the Winter King was closing in.

He didn’t have enough power to teleport, not without Pitch, and his talent for fading into the shadows was rendered utterly useless by the white plume of his breath that steamed in the frigid air. The Winter King would have to be blind to miss such an obvious sign, and while Piki wasn’t strictly opposed to going for the eyes, he doubted he would be able to blind the other villain. He didn’t even have enough shadows to lift the manhole cover he had planned on escaping out of, something he only realized when he reached the top of the ladder. Who would have thought the damn things were so heavy?

He was out of power, out of weapons, out of options.

Piki slid back down the ladder and grimaced at the sound of approaching footfalls. What did the Winter King even want? It wasn’t like they’d successfully managed to steal the stash before the Winter King did anyway. Piki dashed down another tunnel, ignoring the burning stitch in his side.

The footfalls picked up behind him, dammit. He was close enough to be heard.

An unexpected dead end cut the chase short, and Piki whirled to keep his back to the wall, hand fumbling along the stones behind him for a loose chunk of masonry, something he could throw.

The Winter King peered around the corner, stepping fully into the entranceway of the tunnel after Piki didn’t blast him with darkness. The brilliant white of the ice and snow practically seemed to glow in the gloom of the sewers.“There you are, boogeyman. All out of shadows already?”

“Not… even… close,” Piki ground out between gasping breaths. “I’m just… giving you the opportunity… to rethink antagonising me.”

“That’s terribly considerate of you,” the Winter King replied, smirking. “I should really return the gesture somehow. Hm, how about I show you some good, old-fashioned hospitality?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You can find the most interesting little trinkets for sale, did you know?” The Winter King withdrew a small, irregularly-shaped golden ball from a fold of his icy cloak.

Piki opened his mouth to snap a response back, but the Winter King tossed the orb and it burst into a spray of golden powder, covering Piki. The world dissolved into darkness.

------------

Piki started to stir thirty minutes after that, which had given Jack enough time to get him to the hideout and organize everything. He waited on the opposite side of the ice bars that closed off the room Piki had been placed in, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach.

Piki sighed and rolled over on the bed, before flinching and clutching at his head. “Ngh, Pitch, not so loud! Yes, I’m oka-” His voice cut off when he opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. He sat up abruptly. “What the hell?”

“Good morning. Well, technically morning. It’s about 3 am,” Jack said, and Piki’s eyes fell on him.

“What is this? Are you trying to ransom me? Pi- My partner didn’t successfully steal anything tonight, so if you’re missing anything, it doesn’t have anything to do with us.”

“No, no, it’s not anything like that. I just wanted to have a conversation. I think it’s taken long enough for that to happen,” Jack replied.

Piki raised an eyebrow. “Look, if you want to tell random strangers whatever thoughts pop into your head, just make a twitter account like the rest of us. I guarantee you it will be a lot easier than this was.” He pushed off the blankets and got off of the bed, scanning the room for an escape.

Jack smiled. “Oh, I would hardly call us strangers.”

“We’ve spoken only once or twice before this. Acquaintances would be a very generous term for it,” Piki replied, taking a few steps towards the barred doorway.

“Hm, I suppose. But I believe you do know me a lot better than you think you do.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

"Well, if you’re still having trouble working the puzzle out, maybe this will help..." Jack withdrew a small square of paper from a pocket and held it up for the captive man to read. In hesitant, jerky cursive that was far too familiar, it read: 'Hello, Piki.'

Piki's eyes widened, flicking from the note back to Jack. "You..." he breathed, disbelieving for a moment, and Jack felt a little rush of triumph. Then Piki’s eyes narrowed and his face twisted in a snarl. "What did you do to Jack?!"

Jack almost flinched back from the fury in that glare. "What?  N-n-nothing," he stammered out, before he could think about it. The return of that hateful stammer made him reflexively grasp the frayed edges of his persona and wrap it more tightly around himself. He wouldn't be pathetic, not now. He was strong and cunning and in control; he had to be in control. The Winter King straightened his back and cocked his head, meeting the glare with a little smirk, letting the witticism roll off his tongue without thinking. "Well, nothing yet."

Piki surged forward, gripping the bars and baring his teeth. "You-!" He bit back whatever else he was going to say and wrenched his gaze away from Jack. He closed his eyes and let out a long breath, knuckles going white as he clenched the bars. He slowly loosed his grip, shoulders slumping. "...fine, you win."

Jack blinked. "Pardon?"

"You win. I'll do what you want. Anything. Just leave Jack out of this," Piki replied, not raising his head.

Jack felt his heart clench. The absolute failure of his plan crashed over him all at once.

After showing him the note, Jack imagined that Piki would catch on, connect the dots. That he would be impressed at how clever and powerful Jack had proved himself to be. Instead, he had thought Jack was just some helpless hostage of the Winter King. It would be infuriating, if Piki hadn't just shown how willing he was to sacrifice everything to protect him.

"Piki, I-" Jack reached out to touch Piki's hand, but pulled back before he made contact.

Piki might not believe him now, even if he dropped his disguise entirely. And if Piki did believe him, then he would hate Jack. Despite his dreams and grand plans, Jack hadn't established himself as a rival, as an equal. He had acted like a puppetmaster, and he had toyed with Piki. He'd been so focused on being impressive, on being clever, and now he had ruined everything.

Jack didn't want Piki to hate him.

What else could he do now?

The Winter King sighed and waved a hand. The bars on the cell dissolved. "Well, you're no fun at all," he drawled. "You should really work on spotting forgeries, in the future. It's something that comes in handy in our line of work."

Piki stumbled forward half a step at the disappearance of the bars. He lifted his eyes, blinking. "What?"

"Forgeries. You know, fakes?" The Winter King waved the note once before freezing it solid and letting it drop to shatter on the ground. "You can relax, boogeyman. I don't hurt civilians. Just happened to find out about your little crush and wanted to get a rise out of you. I admit, I didn't think you'd go the martyr route. Ah, well. You can see yourself out," he replied airly, gesturing down the hall before turning on his heel and striding off.

He'd gotten five steps away when he heard Piki spit out a dark, "Fuck you."

The Winter King glanced back over his shoulder and grinned. "Only if you ask nicely."

Jack managed to get around a corner and behind a closed door sealed with ice before he slumped to the ground and held his head in his hands.

[mira-eyeteeth]

Cold Reception

Another addition to my Supervillain AU of Nightmare Dork University! This one features the introduction of dear Jack Sickle.

--------------------------------

This heist was supposed to go off without a hitch. They'd done their research, scoped the place out beforehand, made sure that the Cypran Hawk statuette would be on display that night, and sorted out which tasks fell to each one of them. It should have taken under an hour to slip inside, snatch the Hawk, and get out.

Unfortunately they were caught unawares by the fact that the museum owner must have employed one of the local mad scientists to install sentient statues inside the building.

Piki leapt to one side to avoid the swing of the (worryingly sharp) sword of one of the guard statues. With a growl, he lashed out with a staff of pure darkness, taking the thing's legs out from under it. Creeping tendrils of blackness pinned the thing to the ground. "Pitch! You bastard! Get over here now, I'm running short on shadows!"

"Little busy!" Pitch yelled back exasperatedly, blocking the downstroke of an axe with his own dark scythe.

Piki rolled his eyes and muttered: "I have to do everything myself..." He vaulted over the back of another lumbering stone monstrosity and pressed his back against Pitch's, feeling power surge through him at the contact. "It's time show these dolts what-for, don't you think?" he asked with a smirk.

"It would be my pleasure," Pitch replied, and let his eyes fall shut in concentration. The shadows cast by all the constructs suddenly peeled off of the floor and turned on their owners. Black, insubstantial limbs locked around stone ones and turned out to be surprisingly solid. Within moments the constructs were entirely bound.

The last statue fell to the floor with a rumbling crash, and Pitch and Piki turned to hurry into the holding room of the Hawk. The darkness they weaved over the windows of the building should have kept light or sound from escaping, so they still had time before the authorities were alerted. This could still go according to plan, or at least come close to something resembling the plan.

A sudden, frigid, gale-force blast of wind shattered the windows and tore through the shadows like tissue paper, breaking the spell and allowing a lean, pale figure to slip inside. The man landed on the ground lightly, his feet crunching carelessly over the shards of glass scattered over the carpet even as ice crackled over the ground and spread out from every surface that the stranger touched.

For a terrifying moment the twins thought that this was the Guardian's newest recruit, Jack Frost, and that they were busted.

But no. This man was taller, somehow even paler, and much less fidgety than the Guardian. He moved with languid, almost regal grace, seemingly completely unhurried and calm despite the malestrom of ice that heralded his entrace. A mantle of snow covered his shoulders and streamed down his back like a cloak, and a glittering crown of ice adorned his brow.

The Winter King. One of the most infamous and successful theives in the city, and considering most of the population was some kind of metahuman, that was saying something.

They just happened to have the bad luck of targetting the same mark on the same night? That seemed like too much of a coincidence...

The two of them drew closer together instinctively, ready to draw strength from one another if it came to a fight. "Hey!" Pitch snapped, and the Winter King paused at the words, turning his head slowly, almost lazily, to look over at the two black-clad figures. "We were here first!"

Piki winced at that infantile response. Seriously, you couldn't come up with something a bit more threatening?

I didn't hear you saying anything! Pitch thought back, clenching his teeth.

"Oh, were you? Terribly sorry," the Winter King replied with a casual shrug. He blinked once, and a faint smirk played over his pale lips. "Hey, I recognize you guys. The Black Twins, right? I've heard of you."

"I see our reputation precedes us," Piki said haughtily, his eyes narrowing. "I think you'll find it will be for the best if you leave. Now."

"Uh, yeah, no can do. I'm here for the Cypran Hawk and I'm not heading out without it. Just sit tight, would you?"

The twins both acted in syncronicity, grasping the other by the hand as the shadows poured out from every corner to swirl around them and reach out towards this newest enemy.

The Winter King sighed and swung his staff in a wide arc. The room temperature dropped instantaneously and ice burst from the air all around them. Everything dissolved into a mess of freezing, screaming winds and whirling snow and ice. By the time the storm subsided, both of the twins were separated and literally frozen to the wall, bonds of ice encasing their limbs. The Winter King, seemingly having lost interest in the two of them, had turned to the display case and carelessly opened it, pulling out the Hawk statuette and slipping it into a bag that he slung over his shoulder.

Piki, seething, inhaled air so cold it burned to breathe and let out a string of very creative words to describe the icy man in front of him. That seemed to get the bastard's attention, because he turned back to the both of them and eyed Piki with that infuriating smile still across his face.

"Oh, that wasn't very polite, was it?" he asked calmly, striding forward to where the other man was pinned to the wall.

Piki ignored the thrill of fear that shivered down his spine at the Winter King advancing on him in favor of baring his teeth in a snarl. "It wasn't supposed to be," he snapped.

"Then I suppose I shouldn't be polite either..." The Winter King traced one icy finger from Piki's chest, up the column of his throat, and to his chin, tilting his head up. A wicked smile flashed across the bastard's face, and he leaned forward to press a single, chaste kiss to Piki's lips. He drew back before the other man thought to bite him and winked. "Better luck next time." With that, a gust of freezing wind curled around the pale man and whisked him out of the open window, leaving the twins stunned and still pinned to the wall by the ice.

Piki blinked, his lips chilled and tingling, like he'd just had a shot of novocaine injected. "What," he wheezed dazedly, the word more of a statement than a question.

"Piki! We're not gonna have a whole lot of time before the authorities arrive! Come on, you asshole!"

Piki snapped back to himself, shaking his head to clear it. No time to think on that now. He focused all his attention on breaking the cuff on his left wrist so he could reach Pitch and the both of them could teleport out of there.

---------------

A slender man slipped into an open window of an apartment building, pulling shut the blinds once he was inside. He let a bag fall to the floor with a clunk and sighed contentedly. He stretched languidly and the ice and snow melted from him like it had never been. A faint shimmer of diamond dust in the air around him was the only hint that there had ever been anything uncanny about the scrawny, pale young man who stood in his place, dressed in an oversized blue sweater and with blond hair brushed over his eyes.

He thought his alter-ego was really one of the better secret identities of the city, really. Who would ever suspect shy, nervous, mild-mannered Jack Sickle to be an accomplished, super-powered thief? Certainly a much harder mystery to puzzle out than Piki's so-called 'secret'. Speaking of which...

"I- I did it," he murmured, a blush spreading over his face as he cupped his own burning cheeks in both chilled hands. A giddy smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his lips. "I did it."

[mira-eyeteeth]

Payback

Some supervillain NDU for Wesley's birthday. Have a good one, dear.

-------------------------

“And then, get this, he went and grew big enough to just pick me up and stick me in a tree!” Pitch ranted, pacing back and forth in the living room and pausing every so often to reorder the stack of magazines they had on their coffee table or to move one of the cacti (the only houseplant that could survive the under the care of the Black twins) from one windowsill to another. Pitch tended to do what he referred to as ‘neatening up’ when he was aggravated. Really all that happened is that he moved a bunch of stuff from its rightful place to locations unknown and illogical and by god was there anything that his brother did that was not completely aggravating? “He said that if I was going to yowl like a distressed cat about this, I might as well be in an appropriate situation!”

“Uh-huh,” Piki muttered, licking his thumb to turn over a page of the book he was reading. “Terrible.”

“Completely! And then he told me that maybe one of the ‘nice neighbourhood ladies’ would call the fire department to come get me down and can you believe the sorts of things I have to deal with?!”

“I can’t imagine how you cope,” Piki deadpanned.

“He’s the worst-” Pitch finally seemed to notice his twin’s utter lack of interest. “Are you listening to me at all?!”

“Well, to be fair, all the whining and ranting does sort of blend together after a while.”

“Oh my god, you’re taking his side, aren’t you? I’ve been betrayed! Sold up the river by my own flesh and blood!” Pitch gasped, clutching a hand to his chest.

“I really couldn’t care less about your little lovers’ spats, believe me,” Piki replied, rolling his eyes.

Pitch sputtered indignantly. “We are NOT lovers!”

“Right.”

“He’s an ass!”

“Of course.”

“And I need your help to get even with him!”

“Absolut- Wait, what was that last bit?” Piki asked.

“Revenge! I need to get back at the bastard! Why else do you think I was ranting about him?”

“I was under the assumption it was something of a Monday afternoon ritual for you by this point,” Piki replied, shrugging.

“It’s not that freque-” Pitch paused and looked up for a moment, counting off a few of his fingers. He made a short grunt in the back of his throat and waved a hand dismissively. “Well, that’s not important. What is important is that I have a plan this time!”

“Not interested.” Piki said flatly, returning his attention to his book.

“Come on, Piki…” Pitch wheedled.” I need you for this! I’ll even do the dishes all this week!”

“It’s your turn to do the dishes anyway.”

“Then it’s really in your best interests to assist me, isn’t it?”

“That is not how the chore rotation is supposed to work!” Piki snapped.

“Look, just listen to my plan, alright? It’s brilliant and I really think you’d like it.”

Piki growled and snapped his book shut. “Do you promise to give me some bloody peace and quiet if I do?”

Pitch put a hand over his heart. “I solemnly swear to.”

Piki heaved a sigh and waved his hand. Get on with it, then. Pitch enthusiastically launched into his spiel. By the end of it, a grin to match his twin’s had curled over Piki’s lips. He inclined his head slightly. “Fine, I’ll admit it. That is pretty damn devious. I like it.”

“So you’re in?”

“Oh yes.”

Pitch could barely contain his glee. “Yesss! You’re the best!”

“Oh, I know.” Piki replied.

----------------------------

“Piiiitchiner….” A soft, echo-y voice slipped into Pitchiner’s dreams and drew him slowly back into consciousness. He groaned and his eyes fluttered open.

A pair of identical shadowy spectres loomed over his bed, heads tilted at an abnormal angle and Glasgow smiles stretched over rows of glittering broken-glass fangs. Twin pairs of gleaming yellow predator eyes met his own.

“Come play with us, Pitchiner…” the two things hissed, and the shadows all around the room jerked and writhed.  Darkness, slick as oil, oozed over the bed and lapped at his limbs and he could feel the deathly cold touch of something curling slowly around his neck.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” Pitchiner screamed, leaping out of bed and promptly throwing himself right out of a nearby window because like hell was he even halfway awake enough to deal with something like that.

When he plowed through the glass he abruptly found himself in blindingly bright sunlight. His ‘job’ didn’t exactly have the most regular hours; sleeping ‘til noon wasn’t uncommon for him. The things must have just made his room dark.

Still, even light-blind, Pitchiner managed to grab a hold of the nearby fire escape outside of his apartment and slow his fall enough to land on his feet on the pavement below.

It was only when he heard the familiar cackle from the shadows of an alleyway that he realized that he had just landed in the middle of a fairly busy street, at high noon, shaking with sudden adrenaline and completely naked.

“Not funny, Pitch!” he snapped at the seemingly empty alley, before realizing that that may not have been the wisest choice to make. Yes, let’s yell at nothing while suddenly leaping out of a 6th floor window to flash everyone, that’s really gonna be helpful goddammit. He snapped his gaze up to glare at the people gawking at him, not bothering to try to cover anything. There may have been some flexing done for the people who had already whipped out camera phones. “Don’t. Even. Start,” he growled, turning on his heel to head back into the apartment building.

The ride up the elevator was a little bit awkward.

[mira-eyeteeth]

The Three Times the Black Twins Regretted Having Telepathy and the One Time They Didn't

 I am going to make the supervillain AU a thing danggit. And I will do so with silly domestic brotherly interaction.

---------------------

The two of them were holed up in their separate rooms, working on their respective writing projects for their 'day jobs' and generally trying to forget that the other person that lived in the house existed.

Or at least, Pitch was trying to.

Piki apparently had other ideas, judging from how he was making use of their telepathic connection.

"....For nothing on earth could match the blue of your eyes,

Nor the melody of your soft gentle sighs..."

Pitch growled. Piki would you shut up? I'm trying to write something halfway decent here and you dripping absolute dreck into my mind IS NOT HELPING!

If anything, being exposed my prose should inspire you to greater accomplishments, at least as far as your mediocre talent is concerned. Piki replied.

The only thing that is inspiring me to do is to vomit! Why are you even sending me this garbage?

I want your opinion, came the flat reply.

Why in the name of all that is dark would you want that? I know full well you think no higher of my opinion than you do a two-year-old's.

Well, if you think it's dreadful, clearly I'm doing something right. Jack deserves only the best, after all. Piki retorted smugly.

If you're so bloody enamored with the brat why don't you just kidnap him already? Pitch snapped.

Pitch! Piki's mental voice sounded aghast. Kidnapping is the third step in properly wooing the object of your affection! You can't just rush things like that, you dolt! If that's your normal approach to romance it's no wonder you only manage to attract the most savage of brutes as... I hesitate to even call them 'partners'.

At least I'm getting laid. Pitch retorted bluntly, channeling his ire into the next few lines that he tapped out on his computer. And unless you want to hear about that, in great detail, you're going to shut up with the blasted poetry.

---------------------------------

Piki was having the most wonderful dream. The Guardians laying in a defeated pile in front of him, his brother nowhere to be found and Jack, sweet Jack, was at his side, clinging to his arm and clearly in awe.

Piki smiled softly and reached out to tilt the boy's head up to meet his eyes. "Oh Jack, with you by my side, nothing can stop us."

The dear boy lifted his ice-blue eyes and smiled softly. He parted perfect lips to voice the answer the Piki had always dreamed of. "Piki, I- WHERE IS THE BLASTED SPARE KEY YOU PRAT?"

Piki jerked into wakefulness. He bit his lip to keep from screaming in frustration. Alerting the upstairs neighbours to anything going on here that wasn't complete normalcy could get messy really fast. I was in the middle of sleeping!

I don't care, I want to get inside. What did you do with the key? It's not in its usual hiding place.

Oh, that. I was tired of you wandering around at all hours and locking yourself out of the apartment so I took the key inside to try to get you to learn some responsibility.

How considerate of you. Pitch replied poisonously. You're just jealous I have a social life. Now let me in.

Hmmm, no. I'd rather go back to sleep. Go spend the night with your fuck buddy or something. Piki rolled over, drew his blankets up to his chin, and pointedly ignored the expletives screaming through his head until Pitch finally got tired of harassing him and went away.

-----------------------------------

Piki was in the middle of enjoying a nice, peaceful breakfast. He'd gotten back to sleep quickly, but the dream was a lost cause. It hadn't returned.

However, not having to worry about his dolt of a brother rummaging around in the kitchen and disorganizing his carefully-labeled pantry went a long way to cheering him up. Not having to fight over the contents of the coffee maker was another bonus, and he'd taken the opportunity to brew a pot of some of his gourmet Sumatran coffee. He hummed in delight as he settled down and sipped at his mug, skimming through the day's paper.

And suddenly his mind was awash with disturbing images, sensations, and a constant refrain of fuck yes Pitchiner harder fuck god yes right there again yes harder!

Piki spewed coffee everywhere.

----------------------------------

Some days later, once they got back onto speaking terms with each other, they both decided that they desperately needed to go shopping. Piki had thought that he could use some new clothes, and Pitch was completely out of hair gel. Piki got testy when his hair products were borrowed, so there was only one option.

They went to the mall.

Piki drove, having managed to get into the driver's seat first. Pitch did manage to scurry into the passenger's side before Piki was able to drive off without him, though. He matched Piki's scowl with a smug little smirk of his own.

They went their separate ways once they reached the destination, Piki to his favorite clothing outlet and Pitch to the salon.

Piki stared at himself in the dressing-room mirror, pondering if the vest-tie combination was suitably flattering or not. Would Jack like it? Maybe he should try something with some blue accents, to complement the other's typical wardrobe colours. Or would that be too presumptuous of him? Piki bit his lip and tugged the hem of his shirt to sit better.

Oh my god Piki. You have got to come see this. Come to the food court now.

I'm in the middle of something.

Just get over here.

Piki rolled his eyes and set aside the clothing, asking the sales clerk to hold the vest for him. A quick jaunt down the hallway and he reached the railing overlooking the food court. Pitch was leaning against it, looking down at the mass of people, both costumed and street clothed, milling about through the area. Piki came up alongside him and glanced down as well.

Just what is- Oh my. Is that really lime green spandex?

Uh-huh.

And a feather boa?

Yep.

And he seriously thought that it would be alright for him to leave the house like that?

I can only assume so. He's tried to hit on one of the sushi vendor girls already.

You're joking!

Honest to god.

What is his ability, then? Super obliviousness?

Maybe nega-fashion sense. Clearly a supervillain, you know. Out to destroy all that is good and aesthetically pleasing.

Piki snorted. Sounds about right. Look, that woman's hairdo has clearly become one of his victims.

Jeez, how did I ever miss that monstrosity? How many creatures do you think are living in that thing?

Gotta be at least six squirrels, maybe a couple rats or two.

They spent the next hour people watching and silently snarking to each other.

[mira-eyeteeth]

Misbegotten Goods

Hey so do you think that NDU has enough AUs yet?

I didn't think so.

Here have another one.

------------------------------------

Piki had his ear pressed to the side of the safe and was listening for the sounds of the tumblers when he was rudely interrupted.

We've got a problem! A voice rang through his mind, shrill and clear and grating as always. Piki gritted his teeth. It was bad enough that he was forced to deal with his twin on a near-constant basis, being telepathically linked to the twit just seemed to add insult to injury.

What is it, and why can't you handle it by yourself this once? He snapped.

Bite me, Piki. The Guardians are on their way and we need to get out now. Grab whatever you managed to liberate and meet me at the side entrance.

Piki hissed out a curse and snatched his dollar-sign emblazoned sack off of the ground. The Guardians, it was always the pox-ridden Guardians, getting in the way. Was one undisturbed night of burglary and iniquity too much to ask for?

How had they even found out so quickly?

That question was answered when he hurried through the hallways and spotted the blinking lights of the security cameras. "You're kidding me!" he exclaimed. Piki picked up the pace to meet with Pitch, fingers itching to wrap around his brother's scrawny neck.

He reached the gallery where Pitch was waiting with crossed arms and a tapping foot. "About bloody time!"

Piki growled and seized him by the collar of his black cloak. "We wouldn't have had to rush if you'd disabled the godforsaken security system like you were supposed to!"

"Me?! I did it last heist! It was your turn!" Pitch retorted, smacking Piki's hands away.

"It most certainly was not, you imbec-" Piki's tirade was cut off by the sound of sleigh bells rapidly drawing near.

"Shit," they both said in tandem.

"We'll discuss this later," Piki said through gritted teeth, and extended his hand.

"Yes," Pitch replied in the same manner, reaching out to clasp his brother's hand.

"Black Twin Powers, Activate!" they both snarled, glaring at each other.

"Form of darkness!" Pitch snapped.

"Shape of shadows!" Piki growled.

The two of them melted away into the night just as the doors were thrown open and a brightly coloured egg bomb was cast at where they had just been standing.

-------------------------

"That was a complete disaster!" Piki exclaimed when they had regrouped and regained corporeal form in their apartment.

"Oh, was it? I hadn't noticed." Pitch replied scathingly.

"Don't fucking start with me!"

Pitch grumbled something under his breath and slung down his sack of ill-gotten items. "What was your haul like?" He asked, rummaging through his bag.

"Got a couple paintings, some gilded chinaware. I would have cracked the safe where they kept the ticket sale money if someone had actually gotten rid of the security system," Piki replied, setting down his own bag.

"Are you still going on about that?"

"Well apparently since I'm the only one here who has a memory that lasts more than 30 seconds-!"

"They had some antique jewelry in the Grecian exhibit that I was able to snag. I've got a fence that should pay pretty well for that." Pitch said flatly, not lifting his head.

"So how much do you think we got?"

"I dunno, should be enough for the week at least."

Piki sighed and flopped down on the couch. He loosened the ties on his mask and pulled it off. "I swear, this is more trouble than it's worth."

"Hey, if you have a better idea for getting money for groceries..."