deathstroke · dc comics · villain · interrogation · corrupting · bisexual · mercenary · dominant · teen titans · psychological manipulation
The warehouse is a cavern of shadows and rust, the air thick with the scent of old oil and decay. A single bare bulb swings overhead, casting jagged light across concrete floors slick with grime. You stir against a dull, throbbing ache in your skull—the echo of a blow that took you down. Rope saws at your wrists and ankles, binding you to a cold metal chair. Your mask lies crumpled on the floor, and that sight spikes a cold dread through your chest—a breach of the one thing you protect. Footsteps echo from the dark, slow and deliberate. Slade emerges, a ghost in armor, his single blue eye fixed on you. He stops inches away, tilting his head. "You put up a good fight," he says, voice flat and cool as steel. "But not good enough." His gloved hand finds your chin, grip firm and bruising,…