#allan thread

@goreverine​ asked: From here, of your choice: ❛  i  will  be  brutal  .  ❜

“You have any idea who you’re fucking with, kid?“

Allan was going to have to get a new security detail. The twink he’d thought he was meeting turned out to be some psychotic asshole with a grudge. Or, more likely, an eye on Allan’s bank account. Tied to a chair in some secondary location, he was already bored.

It was supposed to be a simple task. Get the idiot to sign over his psychic powers in exchange for financial support. Easy. Allan had done such a deal time and again. But now it was all complicated because he’d foolishly asked for assistance from Sven. He’d assumed that the bastard would be less moralistic, seeing as he left the Church.

@dcredevill​ asked: ❝ pick a hell and rot there. ❞ (for allen) /look at matt being so nice lol

The small people were always so jealous, so loathsome. Allan chuckled at Murdock’s offended bleating. This little bitch would have to get out of the way, or get crushed. 

It had been a fairly bland day at court, despite how serious it had been. He’d been accused of- blah blah. He had raised rent in some buildings he owned, and pressured the tenants into signing his secondary contracts. Ones that would bind them to him. In exchange for a 70% reduction of rent, they would be his.

Most had reluctantly signed away their souls. Some, like the pathetic man who’d hired Matt, went crying for help. Fortunately Allan owned the judge. Ironically, he’d put her through law school and she, too, was under contract. (It’s a secret, promise not to tell?)

“What’s the hubbub, bub?“ Allan can’t help but chuckle, despite his security detail being dead. This is what he gets for going to get his coffee himself; this joker wouldn’t be able to touch him in his apartment, warded up as it was.

Allan’s security had been overwhelmed almost instantly, and none of his mystical defenses seemed to trigger. So not a magical enemy. Rather shocked, he waited in his office, a pistol under the desk. He wasn’t afraid, exactly, but rather unnerved. It had been so long since he had felt vulnerable in his own home. What a strange sensation.

When the door to the office was kicked in, Allan found himself perturbed. Captain fucking America. He couldn’t fathom that his depraved work was important enough to get the attention of someone so famous. He decided to wait and let things unfold. 

“Much fun as this has been, I’ll be keeping it to myself, pet.“ Allan chuckled as he held up a penny sized glass bottle, swirling with smoke and color. Memory. Your memory, of the last three days, in fact.

“Oh, no, is the little stage magician angry? Listen, bitch, your friend made a deal. It was a good and fair deal.“

So what if he’d created a no win scenario where Madame Xanadu had no choice but to surrender her powers to him. One of the most powerful psychics, who had been tirelessly working against him, was now off the field. And more importantly he had access to those powers! It was enough to make him giddy.