#I would’ve brought a little gift for him had I known

[f1-stuff]

How was the dance lounge? How was Carlos?? I hope you had fun!! 🪩

It was fun! Very strange but fun 😂 - I figured Carlos would just appear and say something into the DJ mic, maybe do a cringe little dance, and leave. But it was a full-on meet & greet ?? And we also almost didn’t get into the club, it’s very lucky that we did, so I’m buzzing!! He is so beautiful 😭 wish I’d seen his hair up close tho 😂 still backwards cap carlos was a nice sight

They had a special cocktail for him (which was of course ludicrously priced but we got it asfgdhsj) and this saxophone guy that was honestly the star of the night lol

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Neighborly

mdni

Masterlist

Soap x reader x Ghost

Summary: You didn't know hate until Johnny MacTavish. (Or a really big build-up to cuddles and smut).

Warnings: Implied anxiety disorder/depressive disorder, self-isolation, language, incredibly shitty communication and social competence.

It was supposed to be a one-shot.

You didn’t know hate until Johnny MacTavish.

He bought the only house within half a mile, the one you expected to stay silent and empty ‘til death did you part. So, you had reason to dislike him from the start. But you were raised right, and you pushed down the snarling hermit in your soul to be a good, friendly neighbor.

The first meeting was fine, even if he was a boombox of a human being.

“Neighbor? Oh, aye! The hermit? Sorry. Heard about you when I toured the place last month.” His eye lands on the plate of cookies you’ve brought to welcome him. “Those all for me?”

You made small talk at the door, swapped names, and set the groundwork for a reliable, limited relationship as polite people who just happened to live in close proximity.

Then the first snow fell.

You spied him outside, shoveling the shared drive that led up the hill. He cleared it all, which was kind, if a little stupid. The weather system promised another two inches by midafternoon, so everything would be solid white again before sunset. Still, not your problem.

But. He was shirtless. Ripped as fuck and shirtless.

As the wind flung each shovelful of snow back in his face, the powdery flakes stuck and melted on steaming skin. Muscles flexed as he made a spectacle of himself, and your thoughts turned to strategy and available resources.

You wrapped your palms around your ugly, handmade mug and sighed, sipping hot chocolate and wishing you’d gotten a neighbor with at least two scoops of common sense.

When he didn’t appear with his shovel the next morning, you knew your foreboding prophecy had come to pass.

You brought out the stock pot, fished out packs of frozen produce harvested from your garden, and sacrificed your last bag of chicken breasts. The skeleton saved from an old rotisserie bird joined the ingredient army. Might as well go all-in. A man with that many muscles needed bone broth to recover.

Since you didn’t know if he was a picky eater, you minced the garlic and onions small, even when your eyes burned to the point you had to stop for a break. You let the aromatics brown, added celery, carrots, potatoes, and fistfuls of fresh herbs. The precious seasonings survived the winter under grow lights and protective sheeting on your dining room table.

You doubted your neighbor would appreciate this gift for everything it was, but whatever he did as an idiot neighbor would be leagues better than the presence of a rowdy ghost.

When the chicken was tender and the broth tasted like home, you poured it into individual portions and packed them in a canvas bag with a loaf of bread, a box of tea, a jar of local honey, and a thermometer. It wasn’t terribly heavy, but the cold froze your fingers through your gloves. Your hand was cramping by the time MacTavish answered the door, red-nosed, pale, and bleary-eyed.

He let you in, mumbling a scratchy-voiced welcome, and if you’d known what that conversation would incite, you would’ve let him waste away like the families you failed playing Oregon Trail.

“Eat one now and keep the rest in the fridge.” You stack the single-serve containers in the fridge as you speak, sure he won’t remember the minutiae of your instructions. The last you pop in his microwave. He’s staring at you with feverish eyes, confused and helpless like a sick dog left on the side of the road.

Everything comes out of the bag, lining his counter so he can see them – and hopefully remember he has them. The thermometer comes out last.

“If your fever is over 104 in the morning, call the doctor. I’ll drive you if you need me to.”

That glassy stare isn’t shifting. The man doesn’t even blink.

“Did you get all that?”

He clears his throat. The action and sound are both strangely slow in his exhausted state, and you’re determined not to feel bad for him.

“Aye.” Finally, he blinks. “Eat the soup. Watch for 104.”

Good enough.

“Okay.”

The microwave beeps, you pull out the soup, leaving him to fetch a spoon from wherever the hell he keeps them. You don’t wait for him to show you out. “Take care of yourself.”

He didn’t call for help, and you took your turn shoveling the drive with proper protection after the last wave of flurries passed.

The next time he saw you in passing – you were returning home and he was just leaving – he let you know your soup was delicious, that the bread was amazing, and the honey did wonders for his throat. He never returned your containers.

Ah, well. They were replaceable.

Then the next snow came, and the dumb bitch went shoveling shirtless again.

It wasn’t as much snow, and it didn’t take him half as long, but you steamed, glaring from the safety of your kitchen window. You refused to replace your meal prep supplies again. And local honey was expensive. The brat could freeze and die. Something about taking a horse to water and all that shit.

You drank your coffee black that morning, just to make a point to no one in particular.

The man didn’t know how to take care of himself, and he had no idea how to winter-proof his home.

His pipes froze. You brought buckets, old towels, bottled water, and the number of an excellent plumber. Then you explained why he should pay attention to the forecast and let faucets drip to keep the water moving. You told him to open the cabinets under sinks so heat could combat the chill along exterior walls.

His truck’s battery succumbed to the cold. You gave him a jump and escorted him to town to make sure he didn’t get himself stranded.

When he didn’t keep things stocked and tried to panic-shop before a big storm, discovering that small town shelves couldn’t meet demand, you shared staples from your pantry.

He didn’t have more than two cheap blankets in his living space, so when the holidays rolled around you gave him your latest assemblage of granny-squares. And a scarf.

He gave you burnt cookies – “Biscuits” – in return.

(And a half-empty bottle of whiskey.)

He never remembered to drag his trash down to the main road.

And gods help you if the power went out, because the man had no generator, very little in his pantry, and rarely more than a quarter tank of gas in his ride.

He was careless. Clueless. Nearly helpless.

What were you supposed to do? You couldn’t leave him to his fate. It was unneighborly and inhumane.

He made you angry. But you didn’t hate him until his friend moved in.

A few months into his residence, you went to Johnny’s door to ask if he needed anything from town before the next storm shadowed the forecast, and a stranger came to the door.

A hulking monster with a skull painted over his balaclava.

The doorway shrank around his broad shoulders, and he ducked when he stepped out. You weren’t sure if he entirely needed to, but you understood the urge – like an adult stepping out of a child’s playhouse. Scarred knuckles wrapped around the doorknob, and you knew his grip would swallow you whole by the way it engulfed the brass handle.

Animal instinct jarred you. Every hair from the base of your skull to the end of your spine stood on end as you tried to smell the air, listen to the wind, spot the predator’s intent before it was too late.

You didn’t have a problem with people balaclavas. You’d worn one the other day when you were shoveling the drive, but this looked less like protection and more like a threat.

Was he robbing your neighbor? Had a serial killer come to town? Oh, fuck.

You took a step back, reaching for your phone because you didn’t carry a weapon, especially not on a grocery run, and it was the closest thing you had to help.

“You the neighbor?”

He asked so casually, vaguely irritated, but relaxed. It wasn’t the voice of a man who’d just been caught committing a felony, and you took a second to look beyond the stranger’s mask (and size). There was a mug in his hand, and he wore a t-shirt with sweats. His socked feet lingered on the front step, just shy of the blue road salt and crisped ice. Not robbery gear. More like a… houseguest?

Your neighbor never had guests before.

It caught you so off guard your brain short circuited. He had always been a lone, helpless figure. Made sense he’d have friends, though. You couldn’t imagine he’d survive anywhere long without someone looking out for him.

You were still a little irritated that your neighbor had invited his own friend to his own house on his own property without informing you, but that was just the recluse inside snarling at a new face. Or half of one.

And – well – manners.

Holding out a mittened hand, you introduced yourself, adding, “I stopped to see if Johnny needed anyth-”

“No.” He shut you down so fast you reeled another step back. “Don’t need anything.”

He closed the door and that was that.

Sun glittered on the season’s collection of snow, a frozen fairyland that wouldn’t entirely melt until spring. Then there would be roads washed out, and mud, and you’d need to teach Johnny flash flood safety and…

It didn’t compute. Johnny was still home, so surely he’d pop out with an explanation.

You waited.

But he didn’t.

The absolute fuck?

Your spinning thoughts kept you trapped in your head for a solid minute, processing what had happened, what was implied, and what that meant for your neighborly relationship. Even when you managed to move, drive to town, and run your errands, the interaction prickled in your mind like a splinter.

You must’ve done something wrong.

Aged fluorescent lights strobed out of time with your cart’s shrieking wheels. You discovered your list wasn’t in your pocket. It waited at home, next to a pen to add Johnny’s requests. You’d already added things you doubted he’d think to ask for, and it would take time to pick apart your needs. The list wouldn’t have saved you, even if you’d remembered it.

Three bags of flour went into your cart. That was fine. They’d keep, and baking was a good way to combat cabin fever (it warmed the house as a bonus).

Two gallons of milk.

Wait.

No.

You put one back, self-conscious. A young mother with her baby stood just behind you, and an old woman was reviewing her coupons across the aisle. You refused to make eye contact, convinced you’d catch them watching. Did they see? Were they worried about your germs on the product you put back? Did they think you were too broke to buy what you needed? Maybe they thought you’d just broken up with your boyfriend or something.

You counted the squares in the linoleum as you marched away from the refrigerators’ humming. One less source of white noise. It didn’t help as much as you’d hoped. The real buzzing roared inside your skull.

Johnny was a pain in the ass, but at least he was friendly. He wasn’t considerate, but he always thanked you. His friend was a whole different beast. Unfriendly. With a spare set of teeth snarling at the world.

The stranger hadn’t even introduced himself. Was he staying long? Moving in? What was he to Johnny? That question alone would answer so many others.

Because you’d never seen him interact beyond basic business with the mechanic, you realized you had no idea of his sexual orientation. Was he gay? Bi? Pan?

His shirtless shoveling shenanigans annoyed you, yes, but you’d unconsciously granted him a little leeway, assuming it had to do with misguided masculine showmanship. The rooster strutting where the hen could see. The dumbass alpha male proving he was a good, strong provider who was also quite nice to look at.

Clearly you were wrong, and in retrospect, you couldn’t see him as anything but a narcistic dipshit in need of training wheels.

You’d thought, maybe, he even liked you. As a friend? A comrade against the cold? As something.

But you were just a stop-gap. Useful.

Convenient.

Until his real friend joined him.

You found your attention unraveling like a cheap sweater. No matter how hard to you dried to darn the holes, you couldn’t keep up with the loose thread undoing all your conscious measures. It was quickly becoming one of those days when you convinced yourself your therapist had lied about everything.

When you messed up, even in your head, everyone knew.

If they didn’t say otherwise, you were annoying everyone in the room. If they did say otherwise, they were just being polite.

You weren’t likeable, not loveable, and the minute you weren’t useful you should make yourself scarce. Otherwise, things would get awkward, and no one wanted that. You could be the adult. You could hack off a limb and smile about it.

It didn’t hurt, and even if it did, it shouldn’t, because you didn’t have a right to that feeling.

Alright. Fine.

You realized, just as you joined the line for the cashier, that you’d forgotten matches and sugar. They’d been on your list. But someone joined the line behind you, and unspoken social rules that probably didn’t exist shackled you in place. Too late. You’d look stupid. You’d bother someone. Oh well. You’d just have to make another trip. Soon. But not too soon. Now there were two sets of eyes watching you from the connecting drive, and you didn’t want to give them reason to gossip and laugh and assume…

Your pile of groceries looked too small on the conveyor belt. Roughly half what they’d been lately. Would the cashier notice? You were sure she did. The way she recited your total sounded disappointed. Was she counting on you buying more? Were you hurting the employees’ holiday bonus? Shit. Fuck.

The bags felt too heavy. Too light. You forgot your reusable sacks at home, and the plastic dug guilt and accusations into the crease of your palms. On top of everything else, you were killing the planet.

You drove home.

Along the river. Through the trees. Up the hills to your corrupted sanctuary.

At least you didn’t need to make a second trip to bring in all the shopping. Your haul landed on the counter, you threw the damned milk in the fridge, and you realized, as you opened the pantry, that you already had four bags of flour. Two all-purpose, two for bread. Because you’d planned to bake for two.

The flour hadn’t been on your list.

And there was no room for it.

Your lip wobbled, and you bit it ferociously, chewing it until the texture changed and bits of skin started peeling.

It wasn’t a problem. You liked being prepared. You’d dump it in one of the emergency storage totes you kept in the hall closet and be ready when something went wrong.

You did just that, popping open the plastic lid and layering the flour over dry lentils, black beans, and shelf-stable cartons of broth. You decided to add more baking supplies to the list. Even if the power went out you could use the wood-burning stove in the living room to make griddle cakes. Maybe even soda bread.

There. Yeah. That wasn’t so bad. A silver lining.

As you returned to the kitchen, brainstorming ways to atone for the plastic bags you’d used, the scent of coffee wafted down the hall. Which was strange. Because you hadn’t put the moka pot on. You rushed in, frowning.

The old drip machine you only used for company burbled in the corner, and the groceries sat precariously on the corner, shoved aside by the beast who’d wandered through your unlocked door.

A tall, mohawked figure groped, shoulder-deep, in your cabinets.

MacTavish.

The Scottish mumbling would’ve tipped you off even if you weren’t so familiar with his figure (and hair, and limited wardrobe).

Your angst tasted bitter as you swallowed it down. You needed space for the feelings popping like firecrackers in your chest.

Relief. Hope. Dread.

He was in your space without invitation, and with the morning you’d just had, you felt anything but comfortable. Either you’d jumped the gun, or he was bringing a delayed apology for his friend.

“Johnny? What are you doing here?”

He smiled over his shoulder as he pulled two cups down from the shelf. One with your college logo and your prized ugly mug.

“Hello, neighbor!” He cackled, laughing at his own joke. “Wanted to give you a heads up and have a chat. My friend’s come to stay with me.”

Friend? What flavor of friend?

“I know. We met this morning.”

“Aye. Real barrel o’ sunshine, isn’ he?”

“If you say so.”

You wanted to be nice. You wanted to be his friend, too. But you weren’t, and you’d worked so hard to be a good, reliable person he could depend on in a new town – you were drained.

“His name’s Ghost.”

Most people grew out of their edgelord status by their early twenties. Ghost –with his skull balaclava and gruff voice – seemed better fit for the emo table of a suburban high school cafeteria than the adult world.

Johnny kept prattling, making an introduction for someone who wasn’t even there. “Told him all about you! He was impressed. Smacked me over the head about the pipes and said we’d go into town for a generator before the next big snow.”

“Hard to predict the next big snow.”

“Aye. He said that, too.”

If Ghost could keep your insights out of his mouth, you would appreciate it. It felt like he was stealing something from you, and you found yourself shifting from foot to foot, arms crossed, waiting for something terrible to happen.

And it did.

Gesturing as he described his old buddy and new housemate, his elbows danced around your kitchen like battering rams. First, he struck a cabinet, which hurt him more than the wood. He laughed it off. Kept talking. You didn’t need to say a word. By that point, you probably couldn’t even if he left space to speak.

For the life of you, you couldn’t riddle out what his visit was for. It was exhausting. He never chattered so much when you brought food or showed him how to keep his home in one piece. Ghost must make him very happy. His joy made you anxious.

His arm wide, indicating the views he’d fallen for and not the practical considerations of living in the goddamn woods on a goddamn mountain, and you watched in slow motion as his forearm caught your ugly mug’s handle.

It spun, wobbling to the edge of the counter, and before you could move, it plummeted.

A bad day instantly became your worst in years.

It must’ve made a sound when it hit, but you didn’t hear it. Or didn’t remember it. You didn’t remember going to the floor after it, either.

Your mug was in pieces, and when you pulled them to safety, wrapped tight in your fist, the glazed edges cut deep. It was such an ugly little thing. Your ugly little thing. You’d made it in one of those sip-and-spin pottery classes with your pals before you stopped going to see people face-to-face.

The mug wasn’t a friend. It was all of your friends. It was the fun you, the one who went out and did things, and moved through life like a real, entire person.

It practically exploded when it hit the tile. Some pieces were bigger than others, but there were dozens of them. Glittering chips and flecks that you knew you’d be finding with your feet through the rest of the winter.

There was no fixing it. It hurt. You were bleeding. Red oozed up between your knuckles and snaked down your wrist.

“Oh, shite! Shite, shite, shite. Are you alright? Here, let me –”

You didn’t want him to touch it again. Didn’t want him to touch you and act like he gave a fuck. This was a big, ugly feeling bubbling up inside, and if he didn’t dislike you yet, he would when he saw all the tears and snot.

A pretty crier you were not.

And no one wanted to see that, or deal with it, or cope with someone else’s messy emotions.

“It’s fine. I’m okay.” You grit your teeth and smiled through them. “But I need to clean this up, and I still have groceries to put away. How about you get your friend settled and we can talk another time, okay?”

“Are you sure?” His attention was fixed on the blood. Bright red was such an alarming color. You could understand.

“Yeah. Just a little scratch. Promise. But I can’t play host and clean myself up.”

His neck went stiff, and his eyes flicked from your face to the floor. Several times. Like he was having an argument with himself. But in the end, he listened, nodded, and got back on his feet from where he’d knelt in front of you.

“If you insist. But we’re right over there if you need anything, aye?”

“I know.”

Finally, he left.

You got up and locked the door behind him. If you’d taken time to do that before you put away the groceries none of this would’ve happened. You would still have your mug and you wouldn’t be on the floor, crying and cradling the remains of something that mattered to you.

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

He kept coming over when he needed things. Usually after Ghost’s truck rumbled down the drive. Sometimes he wanted advice. Sometimes he needed help. Usually he took tools and supplies he should’ve bought for himself.

You put your curtains to good work. You couldn’t remember a time you drew them so often. If he knocked, you’d answer, but the curtains were a good deterrent. Not foolproof, but something that gave you a little more power over your privacy.

Long jaunts into town have become escapes from your own home. Better the eyes of strangers – fleetingly painful – than the paranoia of sitting under glass where your neighbors might read your habits and foibles by the way the lights turn on and off through the night, might judge your messy hair through the kitchen window as you wash the dishes. Might, might, might. There were terrible possibilities in all that potential.

They were always there. One ready to freeze you out, the other hanging on your apron strings like a teenager who just got his first place. The conflict rubbed over your nerves like a match on a boot heel. Too much, too fast, and you’d combust.

So you found a lot of reasons to go into town. You remembered how much you liked the library, the joy of a cinnamon roll someone else baked, and hot coffee that didn’t come with a side of flashbacks.

The forecast predicted heavy snow overnight, and you made a day of grocery shopping, collecting novels from the library, and avoiding your neighbor’s last-minute requests.

You barely noticed the teens rushing out of the parking lot as you left your final stop, canvas bag loaded with enough media to keep you entertained through the storm of the century. No windows were broken. No key marks scuffed the paint. If they committed any mischief, it was minor.

Gas theft didn’t cross your mind until your engine quietly gave out and your car rolled to a stop between Nowhere and Nothing.

Understanding dawned with grudging revulsion. Like looking at the toilet and realizing it wouldn’t flush.  

The little shits had siphoned your tank.

You smacked the steering wheel, cursing.

So much for the benefit of the doubt. You couldn’t escape. Everyone everywhere just wanted to use you.

But it was fine. Everything would be fine. You were always prepared in case someone fucked you over. Your wellbeing was your responsibility, after all.

Climbing out of the warm cabin, you headed to the back and pulled out the emergency gas can.

The red plastic was shockingly light. You didn’t realize until you’d already thrown your weight into the yank. Unbalanced, you tottered, and your heel skidded over ice.

The snow cushioned your fall, and you stared blankly into the white limned branches overhead as you tried to process the last five seconds. Things like this happened to idiots. They did not happen to you. Careful, cautious you with your backup plans and reserves.

You had simply made a mistake. Somewhere. Somehow. You’d find an explanation.

When you sat up, still in a state of shock, you examined the can, expecting signs of a mouse, or a crack, or…

An I.O.U. was taped to the back.

You knew the handwriting all too well.

That shitting little…

The snow arrived. Silence swallowed the mountain, and the gloaming snuffed the last of the sun’s warmth.

You sat alone on the side of the road, well aware that no one would come up this way for hours. Days maybe.

You had made a mistake.

You made your neighbor chicken soup.

Your nose burned, and you sniffed. Hot tears rolled down your face, burning as they went, and you wiped at them furiously. The wool of your mittens chafed your cheek. Your lip wobbled, and you hurled the empty can into the woods.

Fuck Johnny MacTavish.

Fuck Ghost.

Fuck your life.

[moonstruckme]

Hello my lovely!! Could I have a cute thingy with Remus getting the reader flowers, but plot twist she has never gotten flowers 🤔🤔 I feel you would do amazing with this 💕 kinda like outspoken but shy about affection reader

Thanks for requesting my love! (haha get it?)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 593 words

Remus tries not to take it personally when you open the door and your eyes go straight to the flowers bunched in his hand rather than his face. 

“Hey,” you say, eyes flitting up to his. You look surprised, but the happy kind, and Remus smiles. “Hi! What are you doing here?”

He almost wonders if he’s gotten the time wrong. “I, um, I thought we were going for coffee about now.” 

“Yeah.” Your smile turns bemused (still happy, though, so Remus tries not to worry about it too much). “I was just about to head out, I thought I was meeting you there.” 

Remus shrugs. “Easy miscommunication. I figured I was picking you up. You look very pretty, by the way.” 

It’s a simple truth, but you go shy nonetheless, looking up at him through your lashes as your shoulders come up almost imperceptibly. Remus wishes he could squeeze you. “Thanks. So do you.” 

He knows you’re just returning the compliment, but if he thinks about you calling him pretty for too long he’ll get as bashful as you and then no one will do the talking. “Thanks, love. These are for you, by the way.” He draws your attention back to its true object, holding the modest bouquet of daisies up for you to take. 

“For me?” You manage to seem genuinely surprised, as if Remus might have come to pick you up for a date and brought flowers for somebody else. You take them delicately, bringing them to your nose for a sniff. Remus winces (they don’t smell like anything, he checked), but you don’t seem to notice, beaming at him. “Remus, this is so sweet of you!” You go inside, motioning for him to follow. “Gosh, I don’t know what to say.” 

“It’s no problem.” He stands awkwardly by the door as you find a vase in one of your cabinets and start filling it from the tap. “Standard date rules, you know?” 

You shake your head, smiling down at your hands as you snip the ends of the stems off with scissors. “No one’s ever gotten me flowers before,” you say, softly enough that Remus could almost miss it, that he wonders if you’re even talking to him.

He blinks at you. “Seriously?”

You give a little shrug, seeming almost embarrassed by your admission. “Yeah.”

There’s an odd conflict between pride and dismay happening in Remus’ chest. It’s sort of devastating to know that no one’s ever done something as simple as this for you before, but he’s happy to be the first.

“If I’d known these were your first gifted flowers,” he says, somewhat sheepish, “I would’ve gotten you something better than just whatever they had at the grocery.” 

The look you give him as you emerge from behind the counter, flowers arranged carefully in your vase, borders on offense. “Remus, these are gorgeous,” you chide. “I really love them, thank you so much.” 

He still feels you deserve better, but he can’t possibly argue with you when you’re being so lovely. He’ll have to make it up next time. “I’m glad, sweetheart. Are you ready to go?” 

You nod cheerily, and it doesn’t escape his notice that you don’t shy from the endearment like you usually would. Maybe it’s that, or maybe it’s the smile still lingering on your lips from the surprise of the flowers, but Remus works up the courage to reach for your hand after you lock your front door behind you. When he gives your fingers a little squeeze, you squeeze back.

[sukioyakio]

Siren Sukuna

an:just more headcannon on this au,and more in sight of reader. Also maybe edited or not 😭 Part|, Part||, Part|||

TheifReader who has been stealing stuff all her life,and now she’s this Sukuna company for life.(and she did once not come back with food and ended up sleeping in an empty alleyway.And she after that day she learned her lesson about the spell he put on her,her whole half body hurted)

Theifreader Who completely amazes and terrified of Sukuna.And at times she wonder if she will one day his lunch.

It was a good afternoon at the new place,and reader was very pleased with watching the little fishes in the pond.Your smiling at how cute the fishes look. Until A large sea creatures with reddish scales just bite off the fishes body and then killed them with his hands.In which your mouth dropped in sadness and disgust. And then Sukuna coming up to the coming up to the shore where you were.Just to show you how he brutally killed the fish with just his teeth and nails. “W-wwhat ..w-why the Fishes,I-i would’ve got food” You said completey upset at him eating the fishes.As you watch him tear up the fish head so easily and eating it. As you see him look at you with a Uninterested look. “Don’t care about your opinions brat,I was hungry” he replied while he sides another fish in his mouth.As you gulp down saliva in horror. ��Oh lord,why did you give me to him,he just gonna eat me up’ You mentally said,shaking your head to the horrible thought of it.

TheifReader Who just gets lost in sight of staring at Sukuna body,and at times you wonder how such a beautiful creature would have a scary presence.(Girl is completely oblivious to her little feeling for the damn fish),Whenever she get food in the afternoon and if she has extra time she’ll looks though rich folk house and try not to get caught up in the act of robbing jewelry or jewels that reminds her of the scary siren.And then brings to him as a gift from her. After she done running away from the guards.

After running a while from the guards and making sure that the food wasn’t too shaken up by all the running (she gets her food from a old friend who had known her since she started her life a thief and treated her like a family friend) when you got to the large pond,you walked around the grass and announced your arrival to a particular siren fish.You were more happy to show the jewelry you ahem borrowed from. ”Sukuna!!Im back from My visit” You announced once again,now continue walking towards the water fall,As you wait near where the water fall to see if the red siren would appear. As you watch the sky and sun shine turn it into it most beautiful colors.You put the plates of food onto the ground so you could glance at the jewelry you brought. Dangling it in the sky The red ruby shines with the sunlight making it look so beautiful and divine.It was a Necklace with gold base but the charm was a skeleton case in a ruby gem. ”Brat im here” Sukuna response with a big yawn on his mouth as he swim where your at.His face shows disinterested in what your holding. As you turn to see him at the shore of the pond,you smile at him;you quickly put the jewelry’s in your pocket and grab the plates of food.Now Sitting off in the shore as you give him his plate of food (ever since your first day of giving him food he clearly didn’t like vegetables very much but liked meat). You haven’t look at him or touch your plate yet. He quickly grab the plate and began chomping on the cooked meats.He could see that you had something to say to him,either it was another question or another story time. ”What is it women,You haven’t touched your plate yet or it because you think very highly of me and give it to me” Sukuna says with a tease and a smug smile as he plotted another steak into his mouth. You look at him with an ‘Are you seriously think that’ kind of face.You just mutter ‘as if’ underneath your breath.As you sip out a heavy sigh.And began talking.And as observant Sukuna is when reading your expression,he couldn’t read this one.Which has him curious about what it is. “It nothing,I swear” You said with an awkward smile waving your hands as to dismiss it.Sukuna wasn’t going to have you ditch what bothering you. ”Spilled it already brat” He replied with a glare of irritation at your attempt of dismissing your point. You flinch at his gaze as you started to speak. ”o-ok alright,I’ll just didn’t think you’ll like it,but I got you a small little gift,Well it almost got me stopped by the guards but I couldn’t stop myself from getting these jewelry.It reminded me of you so here it is” You rapidly spoke with a little shy smile scratching the back of your neck. As you go into your pocket and show the necklace and the other jewelry such as rings with red gems on it. You even stole some from the those stands that sell jewelry. As you show the necklace,while holding it with delicacies. If anything hearing you talk about how stuff reminded you of him made him feel something in heart that he had never felt in his entire fish existence. Which get this scary looking fish cheeks and ears red.Who just flick your forehead off,making you groan out in pain. You put the necklace down to rub your forehead But without asking him a simple question. “So Do you like it?Can I put it on you”You asked him with a cheeky smile,As you watch him covered his face his large hand.He doesn’t want to appear weak.He just grumble about how stuipd of a brat you have to be. “Ugrh no now just eat your food before I do it for you”

Siren Sukuna who still allows you to put on the necklace on;on the very next day.With some Grumbling and hissing he allow you.In which he couldn’t admit that he didn’t enjoy seeing how you smiled at him When you were done with puttting the necklace.

Siren Sukuna who at random days Tells you mini stories about his life,either it would be about the spells he could do or how many people he had killed in one day.

“I have family out there in the ocean” He says nonchalantly without a single thought to what he said,floating in the pond watching the clouds move and the sun shining down onto them with it warmth as well it breeze of cool air. As you were doing the same watching the sky with a small smile on your face,as you lay on the bright green grass. ”that cool. .. must be nice to have family there” You breathlessy says without a the need the need to continue on. You pause for a moment before riseing up from your position and turning your head to him with a confused face. ”arent your family just fishes,how can you called them family if you literally eat them?”You answered him with your hands animating how he eat fishes. ”No you fuck tard,How dumb are you,Brat.Never mind what I said.” He replied with irritation creeping up his face. “Nuh Uh!!Your not leaving nor swimming out this conversation”

Siren Sukuna hates whenever you ask him to do your hair,or help you brush the nuts off.Like what is he your maid or somthing.(he still does it,but at times he will tug down on your hair on purpose)

”OWW!!!Please Don’t fucking brushed so hard” You said with a mumbbling of how your head hurted. It was technically your fault for asking a siren to do your hair,and the first thing he bring is a fork (I could never use a little mermaid reference 🙄)He just replied with it your fault that you don’t have a high pain tolerance or not being able to do your hair. “Shut it brat you want your hair down or not”He harshly says. “Urghh fine stupid brunt fish” you replied as soon as you finish speaking another tug was done again.You cried out in pain and curses at Sukuna. And Sukuna smirking devilish.

Siren Sukuna Who randomly blurs out that he can use a spell to give him a human form just to see your reaction.

”WAIT!!Really?!?Then why don’t you use it fish!” You exclaimed loudly as you shakes your hands up in frustration as an angry pout is painted across your face. And a smug expression is painted on his as well. ”I Still dont believe you,Fried fish,how About you show me your big fat lie of a spell!” You announced to Sukuna with a disbelieving eyes staring down at Sukuna red orbs. ”And what make you think you are deserving to see my human form or matter of fact spell,maybe if you don’t talk for a whole day then I’ll be willing to show it to you” He says with confidence and proud,his voice carrying himself as you pout for a bit then put on a fake smile. ”you know how your pretty voice of a siren would do for me when I do my job aka stealing,quick answer FUCKING EASY!” You yelled at him with your hand crossed at him. You felt a sense of pain flatter on your shoulder,making you cry out in pain. You glare at Sukuna.Ofc Sukuna pinches you if you become to loud.

Siren Sukuna who doesn’t know or want to understand what he was feeling when you came back from the city all hurt and bloody.But he hated the most is when you came back to him like your left leg isn’t broken or the fact your shoulder is bleeding out blood because of a arrow.With a reassuring smile to think that he’ll be alright to see you like that.

It was your fault for thinking that you’ll be able to steal something from the royals house.The First thing that was wrong,was that you decided to steal something in daylight.You didn’t even get anywhere near the castle.Because you landed off and broke your left leg. But you push yourself to walk into the house and quickly walked into whatever room and steal anything.But right when you were going to walk out one of the royal guards saw you and yelled at you and yelled for backup.In Which your body was in fight or flight and you started to run as fast as you could even if it meant hurting your left leg. You were able to get on top of houses to jump onto other house so the royal guard couldn’t get you.But even that they were able to land a arrow onto your shoulder. All you thought was going back to the pond. When the guard shot you in the should you were going to jump down the last house,but you slip your landing badly,hitting your head onto the building but your made it,and continue to push the pain and run down onto the grass of the exits. But your head was bleeding and blood dripping from your head onto your face. Full on running,toward the pond and fully escaped the guards.You try to maintain your breathing while trying to keep focus on your movements and not the pain that radiates through your body.As you pass through multiple trees. When you made it to the pond you couldn’t even see clearly,holding your right arm close to at least stop the bleeding.You couldn’t think properly as you called out for a fellow fish. “S-sukuna!!-You cough up a bit of blood walking more closely to the pond before-Sukuna. . . I’m back.”You breathlessly spoke up,as your breathing was becoming more heavy and unsteady. Sukuna lazily got out of the little cave inside the water fall and now swimming up to the surface with a completely disinterested look. That until he saw you in that state,His eyes widened in fear or in shock or in anger he couldn’t tell. ”What the fuck happened!”He exclaimed in a harsh tone but lance with concern.Already in your direction.He could see that your breathing isn’t steady. And the fact you couldn’t even stand properly. “O-oh hi Sukuna… L-look what I got for. . Y-you” You replied barley properly with each other word your breathing get more shaky. You took out two bracelet pieces with a weak small. ”Fucking Brat!! I didn’t ask for that! I’m asking what the fuck happened to your body!!You can’t even walk or breathe properly!!Stop fucking smiling at him like that When your ass is fucking bleeding out so much”He yelled with a stern and cold voice as his eyes were filled with anger,fear,and worry. His heart beating and pounding against his heart.He fucking didn’t even know why he so scared if that what he calls it. “Ha-ha … you should look at . . . Yourself. . it was.. T-the guards”You said so weak and small before you could even get to give his bracelet.your vision turn black and you collapse onto the grassy ground. When Sukuna saw you collapse onto the ground his heart sank into a thousand pieces,He scream your name out as he quickly transformed into his human form and carried you into his large body. He started to perform his healing spells on you,as he curse multiple times underneath his breath,about how dumb you are and that he hates how you brings him things that he doesn’t need like your jewelry’s. He nevers wants to see you like this ever again.You made a deal with him and you will keep it.

Siren Sukuna Who makes sure to visit the city,especially to the royal guards and burn and killed multiple people with the same logo of the arrow that was used to shoot you in the shoulder. And when he was done he cancel his fire spell and Grabs him clothes for him to cover his naked body and some clothes for you too. (He says that he did this not for you,yea right.But for him to remember that he is still the strongest creature alive)

That all I wrote today,I hope you like this one,even though I Think I wrote a little too much 🥲

But if you have any suggestions or ideas or opinions on this please feel free to share them in the comments.

Made by @sukioyakio

also thank you for 180 followers

[winterchimez]

Insanity | Ji Changmin

SUMMARY: It has been several years since Gotham City mourned the passing of the previous Robin, Ji Changmin. However, as you continue with your career as Batgirl to protect the city while filling in for your mentor, Batman, you eventually discover that Changmin was alive all these years after all but has now turned into the city’s most wanted criminal. It is your job to eliminate him for good, but you just can’t bring yourself to do so. How could you? Especially when you still have feelings for him even after all these years. 

PAIRING: robin/joker Changmin x batgirl f!reader (feat. nightwing Sangyeon)

GENRE: batman au, angst, crime, thriller, some fluff, slight suggestive

WARNINGS: nc-17, slow-burn, violence, manipulation, mentions of drug trafficking, torture, traumatic(-ish) childhood, time skip, characters' death, kissing, mentions of weapons (guns, snipers, blades, etc.), blood, both Changmin & Sangyeon are just SO flirty here

WORD COUNT: 14,136 (wowza)

A/N: happiest birthday to my pookie, my beloved lil 妹妹 whom i love so so freaking much and would protect with the rest of my life, @sungbeam 🥳 you've been there since day 1 of my writing journey, and no words could ever describe how much you mean to me 🥹 i hope this fic would somehow be a worthy gift to you miss beam 😮‍💨

also this is my first time writing a superhero au, so pls bear with me it might not be the best i apologise 😭 (this is by far the longest oneshot ive ever written oops—)

Year 2X42

“There have been reports of cases of drug trafficking on the outskirts of Gotham City, and the league have decided to deploy you and your team for the job since it is your area of residence, after all.” 

Turning around from his chair, the male looks up at his huge monitor, seemingly replying to the person on screen as half-heartedly as possible. “Sure, Clark. Leave it up to me to deal with the dirty business of the city.” 

Clark—better known as Clark Kent or Superman, then quickly shifted his facial expression towards his good old friend, indicating that the situation was far more gruesome and serious than it used to be. 

“Bruce... just a fair warning. You do know who the mastermind of this particular crime spree is, especially when you have dealt with him for decades. You certainly don’t plan to bring your two kids with you, right?” 

That was when he immediately brought up his fingers to massage his temples. Bruce knew he would eventually bring them up on this particular topic. Why wouldn’t he? Especially when his two kids, whom he is especially proud of—you and Changmin, have assisted him in many of his work. 

You both have been registered in the league’s system for quite a few years now, Changmin starting a little ahead of you since he was a few years older than you were. Both you and Changmin have lived in poverty in the dark slumps of the outskirts of Gotham for many years, having been abandoned by your parents from a young age. It was tough to live in Gotham City, especially when the city was often tied with crime and corruption. If only you were born into the upper class, then you would’ve had a better chance of survival. 

Unfortunately, you and Changmin just had to end up in the city's lower class. All Changmin knew about his parents was that his mother was a prostitute, and he ended up becoming an aftermath of a one-night stand. Hence, he was immediately dumped on the streets right after birth. Some kind-hearted families took him in for a while, but eventually, he needed to venture out on his own to ease the family's expenses. 

On the other hand, you had a relatively good upbringing until your parent’s murder when you were 9. Having no other place or family to turn to, you eventually find your way into the slumps. 

And that was when you met Changmin. 

By then, Changmin had already created a reputation for him. He somehow became the so-called “leader” among the troupe and led the kids around to make a decent living even during the worst situation possible. He treated you like a little sister, and you both became inseparable as time passed. You both would always stick together, even going up to the main city to look for food to provide for the others back at your so-called home. 

It wasn’t until several years later, both of you aged 16 and 14 respectively, that you came across the infamous Bruce Wayne himself. He was out on a business around the slumps—seemingly tracking down one of the most wanted criminals then, which was also when he found you two and the rest of the kids. 

Thanks to Mr Wayne’s contribution, he placed all of the kids into a care facility sponsored by the Wayne Enterprises, where they would finally have a rooftop over their heads and a better future ahead of them. On the other hand, you and Changmin have seemingly intrigued the man himself, and he decided to take you in and raise you two as if you were his children. 

It turns out that his intuition about you both wasn’t wrong after all. Both of you possessed a higher intelligence level than usual and could pick up combat skills almost immediately. The first time he brought you both down to his training station to have a go, you adjusted quickly to all the provided gadgets. With the help of his trusted butler Alfred, both of them made sure that the two of you were trained to be skilled fighters and have a loving family of the four of you. 

It was obvious among the two of you that Changmin stood out a bit more and earned the title Robin at 18. All you knew was that Mr Wayne had raised an individual before you two and he was the original Robin, but certain things happened along the way and he hung his cape up, never to return. All you could assume was that he had enough of his life as the superhero himself and perhaps created a new alias to start anew. Discussing it was hard with Mr Wayne, so you’ve never pressed further. 

You were certainly a bit jealous at the beginning as Mr Wayne would only take Changmin with him out on missions, pressing that you needed more practice or it was too dangerous for a woman like you. But you proved him wrong and finally made a name for yourself about a year prior.

Batgirl. The first ever in the family. 

With that, Mr Wayne has trusted you enough to take you along on his missions and eventually assign minor ones for you both to deal with when Batman himself isn’t present to deal with them personally. 

You and Changmin made a great team, and it might even become the best combo Batman has ever seen. Even better than himself than the original Robin decades ago. 

So it all came down to making the decision. To take you both along with him during this special assigned mission from the league or not? It was a risk, especially when the mastermind behind this mission was someone who had been hunting Bruce Wayne himself for as long as he could remember. Dealing with him has always been a life-and-death situation. 

The Joker. 

But Mr Wayne trusted you both, and it was about time for him to prove to the league his proudest achievement just yet. 

“I’ve made my decision, Clark. And there will be no second thoughts about this.” He paused briefly before finally tilting his head up to the screen and looking at his friend seriously.

 “I’m taking both of them with me.”

“Come on, Y/N. You can do better than that.”

Changmin pinned you down to the ground and head-locked you, ensuring you had little to no escape from him. 

You both were sparring as usual in the training station in the Batcave, and it is always a competition between you two. Just as the male thought he had everything under control, you freed yourself from his grasp and turned him around. The next thing that happened was that you were hovering over him and pinning both of his arms above his head. 

“Says you, Robin. This is now my 35th win, and you owe me a bowl of Akamaru Ramen down the streets later tonight.” You smirked.

“Sheesh, Batgirl. Seems like you have improved from the last time we sparred.” He gives you a wink, and you roll your eyes up, trying your best to ignore his flirty remarks. 

It wasn’t long before the two of you broke off from your positions as the familiar grunt filled the entire training room. 

“You’ve gotten a new mission for us, Mr. Wayne?” Changmin asked enthusiastically, desperately wanting to be deployed almost immediately and showcase his newly perfected martial arts skills and new gadgets he had just gotten from Alfred a week ago. 

“Slow down, cowboy. I am going to need you two to listen to me very carefully. And I will not allow a single mistake to happen for this one.” 

With that, both of you followed your mentor right back into the control room where the batcomputers were stored. It was clear that Mr Wayne was here minutes ago and had just recently hung up a call from someone from the league. You guessed it would’ve been Superman since he would be the main person to contact Batman often, being the league's chief. 

Mr Wayne then leaned back onto the computer desk, crossing his arms as he pressed play on one of the remotes that were situated in his hand. Immediately, the video footage on-screen depicts a series of trucks entering a secluded area outside Gotham City. It was rare as the number of trucks slowly grew each second. 10, 20, and eventually up to 30 of them. 

Once the trucks were parked around the area, one of the drivers, whom you both assumed to be the squad leader, got down from the vehicle and opened up the trunk boot. And that was when you both saw it with your own eyes. 

Heroin. One of the most life-threatening ones to humankind. 

Just as you thought it would be over, another figure pops up on-screen, someone you have all been familiar with for decades. Too familiar with to be exact. 

“Joker.” Changmin clenched his fist, his eyes now narrowed and his facial expression seemingly changed almost immediately compared to when he was back at the training station. 

You know how much beef The Joker has with the Bat Family, including Changmin. As much as he was the ultimate archenemy of Batman—he was also, in fact, the same for Robin. Changmin had his fair share of encounters with the infamous enemy, and neither had been pleasant. Adding salt to the wound, he would often return with an injury whenever he faced the psychopath himself, never once coming back home in one piece. 

But usually, it was both Batman and Robin who dealt with The Joker, not Batgirl. So why even did Mr Wayne request for your presence this time? 

As you open your mouth to get an answer, Mr Wayne beats you to it by explaining the situation in detail.

“I know we have dealt with the madman himself countless times, and it’s nothing new that he would do such a thing. But judging by the amount of drugs he had smuggled in this time, I fear the worst could happen.” 

“Mr Wayne, you don’t think…” Changmin proposed. 

“It is exactly what’s on your mind, Robin.”

No way. The Joker plans to drug at least half the population of Gotham City. 

Knowing him, he could execute such a plan in countless ways or methods. Besides, he would definitely strike when law enforcement least expects it to happen. Hence, it is up to the Bat Family to put a stop to this massacre from happening. 

With that, Mr. Wayne turned towards you and began speaking up again. “And I thought we could definitely use a little more manpower for this job.” 

You were ecstatic, to say the least. Going on a mission with both Batman and Robin? Oh lord, that would be a dream come true. Most of the time, you were either often deployed on minor cases that you could’ve dealt with on your own or paired up with Changmin to deal with slightly more dangerous matters that were right up your alley and didn’t require the presence of Batman to clean up the dirty work. You have probably been deployed just once or twice with Mr Wayne himself, but not with both of them present. 

But you were hesitant. You have never encountered the madman himself before, while Batman and Robin have. So what in the world was Mr Wayne thinking to bring you along for this mission? 

Was it a test for you? Was it for you to prove to him how much you have grown? Were you finally going to make a name for yourself and be as famous as the duo already are in Gotham City? 

As much as you liked your last idea, you were still reluctant. 

“I… I don’t know about this, Mr Wayne. With all due respect, I deeply appreciate the opportunity given. But are you sure a common girl like me could do the job?” Your voice was shaking, unsure of this whole situation at hand. 

But Mr Wayne steps closer to you, placing one hand on your right shoulder. “You are not just a common girl. You’re Batgirl. You are my pride and joy, and it’s time for me to finally show the world how amazing you are and that you are finally ready to join the Justice League.” 

Your ears perked up at that. Even if he seemed cold outside, Mr Wayne always knew the right words and timing to comfort you. That was all you needed to know to be sure that you were needed for this mission, and there was no mistake. 

At the same time, Mr. Wayne pulls Changmin towards him so he is now hugging you two. “Batman could always use some good sidekicks by his side, and tonight is the night.” 

Finally, he breaks off the hug and puts on his stern face, which the public has grown familiar with. 

“We leave tonight in two hours. Gear up, kids.”

It took Alfred less than an hour to figure out the exact coordinates of the exact location where the drug trafficking was taking place. Thanks to that, the three of you immediately hopped into the batmobile and eventually reached your destination within 15 minutes. 

After parking the vehicle somewhere undetected, all three of you used your batclaw to get yourselves up to the higher ground, now examining the entire base area of operation with your own eyes. 

The area was an abandoned factory, where the men had begun unloading the bags filled with heroin. A few individuals stood out as they possessed a walkie-talkie around their hips, indicating that they were responsible for giving orders and communicating. 

Upon closer inspection, all of the trucks used were freezer trucks— all embedded with the Wayne Enterprises logo all over the exterior of all 30 trucks. There was no doubt they could bypass the security borders, and it was very bold and cunning for them to do so as well.

“There is no way I’ll let them tarnish your name, Mr Wayne. This is all a sick joke.” Changmin said furiously, already ready to hop into action. 

“Easy now, Robin. Let us establish our roles before going into action without a plan.” You stopped your friend by placing your hand on his chest. 

“Batgirl’s right. Now, listen to me, you two. As this operation is way too dangerous, there is no way I’m letting you both step close to The Joker himself, did I make myself clear?” 

Mr Wayne immediately turned his direction to Changmin, knowing fully how he would definitely be the type to act all mighty and head straight for The Joker’s head. But given the situation and the look in Mr Wayne’s eyes, Changmin had no choice but to obey his commands if he wished to return home in one piece. 

“I will be the one who’s going to go for the psychopath. I need you two to clear out all of the thugs and workers here. Once you’re done, contact Alfred and he will let you two know on what to do with the large amount of drugs. If you ever come across The Joker, don’t engage. Call me and I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

With that, Batman gives a pat on both of your shoulders, extends out his cape, and flies all the way down—taking down several henchmen at once and quickly making his way down into the basement, where The Joker would most definitely be. 

“Alright, Robin. You’re the senior here. Tell me what to do.” You nudged Changmin’s shoulder, waiting for his reply. 

He smiled at you and crossed his arms before filling you in with his plan. “Okay, Junior. Listen and watch. You and I will clear off the thugs from the main entrance first, and then we’ll hack into the system and get in to deal with the rest. I’ll leave the hacking to you as the computer wizz of the team.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

Within seconds, both of you extended your capes and flew all the way down, both taking down a thug at a time. Immediately, the enemy noticed your presence, and about 20 men seemingly emerged from the shadows—all armed with baseball bats, ready to knock you both out.

But 20 was just a number as you both were skilled in martial arts—it was only a matter of time before you two eventually defeated them all to clear the pathway to access the main door. You immediately took out your remote hacking device to open the main door, and within seconds you succeeded. It was Batgirl’s forte, after all. 

As the door pried open, there were more who had been expecting your arrival. Some of them were equipped with shotguns and snipers this time, but that didn’t bother you both that much. Working together with Changmin, each of you took one side of the hall, landing a punch or kick to knock these bad boys out. 

Huh. This wasn’t as difficult or dangerous as Batman had mentioned. Now why would—

Your thoughts were interrupted as you felt a bullet graze through your shoulders. It definitely stung and blood was now oozing out slowly as you clutch onto your open wound with your hands. You were turning around to see who was the culprit behind this. 

Suddenly, you felt your limbs start to go numb, and you immediately collapsed onto the cold solid ground. 

What’s happening? Why is my body aching all of a sudden? 

Still trying your best to look around your surroundings, you were starting to feel your eyelids drop, which was a very bad sign. 

No. No. Batgirl! Stay focused! 

Finally, your eyes fall on one individual who stands out from the rest of the crowd. As the individual slowly made their way towards you, you noticed how the other thugs had begun to back off, making out a pathway for the individual to come to you without having any obstructions in their way. 

That green hair. That pale white skin. And those horrendous blood-red lips.

Joker.

“My my, who do we have here for company tonight? Huh, seems like I’ve got a new visitor in town!” It was that sinister voice all of you have grown accustomed to. God, he was now right in front of you, squatting down while placing his pistol right onto your skull, which was the weapon you assumed he had just used to shoot that bullet that grazed you a minute ago.

“Good heavens, if it isn’t the infamous Batgirl that has been the talk of the town! It seems that Batman can no longer contain his little one and finally let her out of the cave!”

As taunting as his demeanour and voice were, you were still struggling and fighting with yourself to keep yourself awake and not fall into his trap while trying to figure out an escape plan or counterattack right back at the madman himself. The Joker constantly pressed the tip of the pistol into your skull, applying slightly more pressure each time he did it. 

Batgirl… please… do something— 

“Stay away from her!!” 

Both you and The Joker dart your eyes in the direction of the voice, and sure enough, you find Changmin just a few meters away from you now, holding a shuriken in both hands, aiming towards the madman himself. 

“If it isn’t my favourite superhero boy, Robin! How have you been, my dear, it has certainly been a while since we last met.” 

Changmin wasn’t interested in playing games with The Joker and he immediately cut to the chase. “What have you done to her.” 

“Oh no, nothing much. Just loaded my trustworthy pistol with some infused poison bullets. And your poor girlfriend seemed to have taken a close shot of it, so she is unable to move now.” This time, The Joker grabs a chunk of your hair and pulls them up aggressively, which was where you were also pulled up from the ground against your will. 

Both of you remembered Batman’s warnings to never engage with The Joker and to contact him immediately. But there was a problem—you were wounded, and you both were now surrounded by tons of thugs around you, with the madman himself threatening your life at this point. If only you weren’t poisoned, perhaps you both could have pulled something off quickly to distract him and contact Batman immediately. But you were stuck, and there was no way Changmin would take his eyes off you, especially when The Joker was right in front of you, having full control over you now.

Changmin’s tut was visible and loud enough for you to hear even meters away, and you knew you both were stuck big time. 

“Tic toc, tic toc. Robin. I might as well just fire the fatal blow into Batgirl’s skull if you keep standing there!” The Joker taunted, and immediately he was loading his pistol again, getting ready to fire this time. 

In a flash, Changmin aimed and threw one of his shurikens at The Joker, and he quickly made his way towards him, landing a punch right into his abdomen and then quickly picking you up and moving to higher ground. 

“You’ve gotten a little heavier, haven’t you?” Changmin teased; clearly, he was panting. 

“Please… not the time, Changmin. We’ve got to contact Mr Wayne now.” 

“Hah.. right.” 

Just as he was about to ring Mr Wayne, Changmin immediately felt an excruciating pain, and his entire body felt numb. Within seconds, his grip loosened around you and he fell back to the ground. You were now trying to understand what was happening when you realised that The Joker fired that shot right into Changmin’s back. And now, he was poisoned as well. 

“Well, what did I say, kiddos! You’ve got to make a decision quickly before I land that shot! Oh, don’t worry, Batgirl. The poison is not enough to kill Robin immediately—he will die a slow and painful death instead.” The Joker and his thugs were slowly approaching Changmin, and you were all alone on the higher grounds, having to witness this scene helplessly. 

That was when you finally received a transmission from Batman.

“You two, change of plans! I’m going to blow the entire place up. Both of you get out of there immediately!” 

Within seconds, bombs began to detonate one by one, and the abandoned factory was now slowly collapsing. It was chaos, and everyone was running around frantically while trying to escape as best as possible. 

You tried your best to push yourself back up, supporting yourself with the pillar right beside you. Equipping your batclaw, you have decided to swing back down to get Changmin out of there. 

But you were too late, for The Joker was now grabbing Changmin by the shoulder, seemingly backing off to enter back into the abandoned factory. 

“It seems that this operation has failed, and I am not having one of you escape alive, that is!” 

“NO!!!” 

You ran towards them, but the next thing that happened, the final explosion blew you away, and all you could hear was a siren. You tried to keep your eyes open, and all you could see was the entire factory up in flames, not a single human in sight. Before you passed out, you could vaguely make out a black figure approaching you, your mentor. 

And what happened after all of that was then a blur. 

It has been a week since that fateful incident. 

When you have jolted awake from your slumber, you find yourself on the operating table back down in the Wayne Manor. You’ve had an oxygen mask placed over your mouth, with some IV drips inserted into your arms. How long has it been since then? 

Just as you are about to stand up, Alfred makes his way into the room while passing you a tray of food to fill up your hunger. 

And that was when you remembered the events that happened. 

You begged to know the details but Alfred remained silent, not wanting to speak up just yet. But eventually, you’ve managed to get him to spill the tea, and you wish you could’ve taken it all back instead.

After the explosion, Batman was the one who scooped you up, took you back into his batmobile and brought you back to Alfred immediately. He tried his best to search for Changmin and The Joker amidst the blazing inferno, but all he could find was a piece of fabric from Changmin’s outfit and from The Joker, which could only mean the worst. 

You screamed. You placed your head down into both of your hands and began screaming frantically. In order to save you, he took on the bullet, knowing very well that The Joker was planning to aim it at you. That explained why he turned his back towards the madman back then to shield you from taking another shot of the poisoned bullet. 

Mr Wayne did not take it well either. He secluded himself in his room for days and wouldn’t step out from it, even when the league called multiple times to ask for updates regarding the case. It was all up to Alfred to take up the job in his presence. 

But the days then passed into a week, and now all three of you were standing in the pouring rain of Gotham Cementary, overlooking the newly carved headstone that read your partners-in-crime’s name and span of life. 

How badly you’ve wished that all this was a terrible nightmare, and you begged anyone to put some sense into you and wake you up from this bad dream. As much as you pinched yourself, it surely was a reality. You dropped down onto your knees, resting your head on the headstone, crying your heart out loud. 

Why did it have to be you? Why did it have to be this particular mission? Just. Why? 

Mr Wayne and Alfred said nothing as they stood in the rain with their eyes closed, not wanting to accept reality either. Countless thoughts were also going through their mind, along with the guilt and sadness—the same emotions that you were feeling. 

But what pains you the most wasn’t his passing; it was how you’ve never got to confess your love for him after all these years.

Year 2X47 — 5 years later

It was your usual routine as you were back down in the training station once again, both of your fists tied up with the usual white bandages as you landed one punch after another onto the punching bag. You have always loved to keep yourself busy—always finding the time to improve your skills whenever you had some time to spare in the Wayne Manor and Batcave. 

It surely hasn’t been easy since that fateful day five years ago. Since then, Batman has forbidden you from taking on any missions involving The Joker—quite frankly, you were thankful for in one way or another. There was no way you could’ve forgotten about what happened then so easily and faced the psychopathic killer himself. Instead, you were left with crimes that the GCPD occasionally required some assistance with. 

You had to thank the GCPD for even requesting your help. Otherwise, you would’ve rotted away in the comforts of your room and sulked for years. At least fighting crime and assisting them was also a way to keep your mind busy and away from all of the negative thoughts. 

Just as you were done with your training, you heard a sudden ping from your earpiece; it was from Alfred. 

“Batgirl, report to the control room immediately, please.” 

Once you have gotten the message, you quickly put all of the equipment away and shut down the room. You hoped that the mission for tonight was something worthwhile.  

You were baffled, to say the least, when you approached the computer screen. It wasn’t from the GCPD tonight but from the league. Since Batman was away at the moment, you had no choice but to step in for Mr Wayne. 

Accepting the call, the screen immediately opens with Superman on screen—even he was surprised that you would answer the call. But there was no time to waste and he eventually cut to the chase. 

“Joker is back in town and he is plotting another major catastrophe that could bring the entire Gotham City down. He is planning to eliminate the GCPD and take over the city.” 

What a jokester the madman himself sure is. 

“But I am aware from the last mission that you’ve had that Bruce forbids you to step close to The Joker himself. With Bruce being away to deal with some league missions, I’m afraid the only person I could turn to in Gotham City is you.” 

Well, that was true. It has always been the three of you in Gotham City. Now, only the two of you were in the picture since Robin’s passing. It was up to you to take on the job or not. 

You have definitely shown some hesitation there, and given your facial expressions, it was clear that you needed some time to think about it. Superman then decides to give you at least ten minutes to make the decision and he hangs up the call. 

One thing is for sure: Alfred was against you going alone alone on this mission. With the absence of Batman, there was nobody who was going to be your sidekick this time. 

If only Robin were still alive, that is.

Alfred’s feelings were valid and understandable, especially when he has been concerned about your well-being since that day. He has also been your father figure, just as Mr Wayne had done all these years. 

But if no superhero was available in Gotham City, you were practically left with no choice but to face your worst nightmare. You gave yourself a deep breath and mentally prepared yourself that it was about time to overcome your fear—it was time to face the madman himself while putting closure to all of this. 

You made a promise to Alfred that you would always keep in close contact with him by constantly sending him transmissions to let him know each and every single one of your movements. And this time, you will immediately retreat if you’ve sensed danger or threat to your life. 

You were definitely not taking risks anymore especially facing the psychopath himself all alone. 

Returning the call to Superman, you huffed and closed your eyes before opening them once again to stand firm on your decision.

“Send me the coordinates of the location.”

You arrived quickly at the designated location on one of the rooftops of the nearby buildings, which gave you a clear look at the GCPD. Just as Superman has stated, the police department was in an awful state—countless windows were broken through and there were plenty of hostages within the building. These hostages also included the policemen themselves. 

You knew you would definitely not act hastily, given the current situation. It was just you—you’re all alone in this madness. You had to think carefully about your next plan of action if you wished to keep all of the hostages and yourself alive, that is. 

With that, you took out your binoculars to scope out which floor would be the best for you to infiltrate—the fourth floor. Using your batclaw, you aimed at the balcony of the building and swung away into the floor itself—crashing into the glass windows while taking down the few thugs that were stationed there. It wasn’t too hard for you to find the lighting control panel which you used your remote hacking device to crack the code open and shut down the lights from the entire building. That way, you’re able to roam around without being detected easily. 

Quickly jumping and breaking down the glass tiles from the current floor onto the ground, you managed to take down the thugs one by one by doing so undetected. Once that was out of the way, you freed the hostages by cutting through the ropes they were bound with using your batarang. 

“The Joker is on the top floor with Commissioner Gordon. Please be careful, Batgirl.” One of the officers warned you.

Taking that down mentally, you slowly made your way up to the top floor, eliminating all enemies that were in your way. 

Eventually, you’ve come face-to-face with The Joker while the commissioner is tied onto a wooden chair. But something felt different. 

The Joker himself was wearing a clown mask over his face. Why did he decide to do so? Was it because he was wounded from a previous crime spree he was on? Or did Batman manage to land a blow on one of his missions? 

“Well, what do we have here? If it isn’t the infamous Batgirl! It has been a few years, sweetheart. It’s a pleasure to be able to see you again in person.” 

Even the voice sounded different somehow.

“What is your purpose, Joker. Why even consider taking over the GCPD.” 

He chuckled. “Oh, honey. I’ll be a dear and tell you why, hmm?” 

He walked closer to you and you couldn’t help but take a few steps back. Eventually, he stops about a few centimetres apart from you and bends down to be at eye-level with you. 

“I do very bad things honey, and I do them very well. And nobody is going to stop me because they fear me, and I fear nothing. So I will gladly take on any chances I can get in this beloved city of yours and turn the tables around, doesn’t it sound tempting?” 

Not wanting to hear his sick jokes anymore, you quickly balled up your fist and landed a punch directly onto his face, but his hands were quick enough to grab hold of your fist, stopping your tracks. 

Since when did The Joker have such great agility? 

“Seemed like someone’s been working on their reflexes since we last met, haven’t we.” The Joker taunted before trying to grab hold of this pistol behind his hips and aimed the bullet at you. He shot a few times, but each time you dodged them to the best of your ability as you were constantly running around the room. 

Once you were at a distance between you and he was, you took out your batclaw and aimed it at the pistol, which you managed to bring it over to your side—loaded it before pulling the trigger and aiming at the mask he was wearing. 

Sure enough, one of the bullets managed to penetrate through the mask and it was surprisingly way more sturdier than it was. It managed to form a small crack, but the blow was not enough. Perhaps your only choice was to have a close combat range, and you would either take it off or destroy it to find out who is really behind that mask. 

It took a while before you managed to come close to The Joker as he was shooting you from afar. Once you’ve done so, you managed to grab hold of his arm that was holding the pistol and punched right through the mask. You’ve succeeded in destroying it with your brute strength in one blow. 

But you wished that you could’ve taken it back.

Whatever that you’ve just seen was horrifying, and you were in absolute shock and denial.

There’s no way. It absolutely can’t be. 

He… but he’s…

“Cha-Changmin…?” You stuttered, and your eyes widened. You thought you were hallucinating. That can’t be. He died 5 years ago, and you and Mr Wayne were there to witness it all. 

Is this some sort of joke? A reincarnation? Another bad joke from the real Joker himself? 

You backed away, and so did he. You could tell that it was fine for now, and he wasn’t going to shoot because he seemed as baffled as you were. As much as you want to pinch yourself to wake you up from this bad dream, you notice his sincere eyes. One that you’ve always loved since you both met at the slumps. 

Unbeknownst to him, a single tear drop eventually fell onto his face, ruining the white makeup that he had got on him. He gently raised his hands and touched it, looking bewildered as if he had no idea what was happening. 

You did what you thought was best at the moment, taking a step closer and reassuring him that it was all alright and how much everyone had missed him.

How much you’ve missed him, to be exact. 

“Changmin…” 

“Don’t come any closer. Please… stay away from me!” He protested, taking several steps back to keep a distance from you. He then placed one of his hands on the side of his head as if he remembered something—or rather, it actually triggered something within him. His pupils were now shaking, and you desperately wanted to help and hold him close to you. 

Then, you both heard footsteps coming up the stairs, which meant your alone time was up. The officers were bound to capture The Joker and place him behind bars for good this time. 

Just then, Changmin regained his composure and aimed his pistol directly at you. Before loading the gun, he said one last sentence to you.

“The person you once knew me as has died.” 

With that, he pulled the trigger but he missed his shot. Instead, it landed on one of the window latches and it broke apart—giving him the immediate escape route as he ran and jumped out of the building. You stood there, baffled by the situation, while the officers had now filled the room scanning for signs of The Joker. 

Commissioner Gordon approached you, thanking you for saving his and his comrades' lives. He also reassured you that they will be keeping track of The Joker’s movements and keep you updated with anything.

But only one thing filled your mind and you needed answers desperately. 

Changmin was alive this whole time. But how?

You quickly made your return to the Batcave and immediately approached Alfred. You needed to know that whatever answers—even the tiniest detail, could help you solve the puzzle. 

Alfred was quiet at the beginning, debating on the right words to tell you the truth at this point. Apparently, Batman has found out about this a year prior, knowing very well that Changmin was alive and well, and has somehow taken the persona of The Joker. But according to Alfred, Mr Wayne was still looking for answers about how it had all ended up this way.

As much as you were furious about not knowing this earlier, there was no way you could’ve blamed it on Alfred. He was simply following Mr Wayne’s orders, and that was to keep you away from anything relating to the madman himself. 

“Fine. Then tell me where Mr Wayne is, and I’ll confront him myself.”

“That’s the thing, miss Y/N. Master Wayne has been on a league mission for the past few weeks, but I haven’t heard from him. I myself have been trying to track down his coordinates but to no avail.” 

Now that was strange. Disappearing for quite a while wasn’t deemed unusual in Mr Wayne’s books. But more than a week? That was definitely a red flag, and someone must look into this matter. 

Taking in a deep sigh as you were overwhelmed with everything happening, you calmed yourself down and spoke to Alfred in a low voice. 

“I’ll find the answers to all of them.”

You decided to head back to the rooftops of GCPD, where the Batsignal was located. Commissioner Gordon often used it to signal to summon the Bat Family whenever they needed help. But it seemed as if the searchlight was destroyed and torn apart—revealing that whoever had done this definitely held a grudge against you and your squad. 

You did contemplate using it to reach out to Batman, but with this option down, you were now back to square one. 

If Alfred cannot contact Mr Wayne through transmissions, then you wouldn’t stand a chance either. 

God. Think, Batgirl. There’s got to be a way to contact—

“It seemed as if the rumours were true after all.” 

You were startled by the sudden voice coming from behind you. As a common reflex, you immediately throw a punch towards the individual’s face—only to be stopped by their hand grabbing onto your fist. Once you got a glimpse of who it was, your eyes widened. 

“Nightwing.” 

“Ah, I see you have heard about me before. Then that saves up the trouble of having to introduce myself. Also, sorry about startling you. It’s my fault.”

As both of you backed down and composed yourselves, you finally got a good look at the individual standing before you. He was tall and definitely well-built (a little too well-built to your liking actually); he wore a black with some outlines of a blue suit and a domino mask. Even through the mask, he was a pretty darn good-looking individual. 

“Ogling at my beauty during our first meeting already?” He teased.

“Are all Robins meant to be this flirty?” You shot back. He chuckled and his voice somehow lightens up the mood for a bit. 

“Ah, so you knew about my backstory.” 

“Well, I learned about you through the files Mr Wayne kept in his office a decade ago. Consider that a time when I will snooping around his stuff because I was curious about many things.” 

“Bruce definitely has loads of secrets that he keeps from others, alright.” He shook his head, thinking that his former mentor was still the same old individual he had known for many decades. 

As far as you know, Nightwing was the first Robin and has worked alongside Batman for many years, even longer than you and Changmin ever did. He was a former circus acrobat when he was younger, so his skills and agility had to be one of the toughest Gotham City—or rather, the league has ever seen. At one point, you have once heard that the league has appointed him to look over the younger superheroes, the Teen Titans, from time to time. So he has got plenty of things on his hands to deal with. 

But there was one question that has pondered you for long enough. One that you knew you could never ask Mr Wayne and Alfred themselves because they definitely weren’t comfortable bringing up this topic. 

Nightwing somehow knew this topic would come up eventually, and he decided to indulge in your curiosity for the time being. Leaning back towards the headlight, he crossed his arms and told you about his backstory.

“To begin with, Bruce had taken me in ever since my parent’s murder when I was 8. He trained me to be a soldier, his sidekick and I’ve never left his side for 20 years. But you know what they say—when the time comes for the baby birds to leave the nest, then there is no explanation needed.” 

“So you left willingly?” You questioned.

“In a way, yeah. Now I mainly patrol crimes in Blüdhaven, occasionally returning to Gotham City to assist Bruce and the team if needed. Commissioner Gordon seems to really enjoy my company after all.” 

The way he spoke lit up the mood, and you could tell how he was definitely worth being the first Robin. Anyone would agree on how behind that jovial and friendly smile he possessed, he could be one of the most feared individuals on the battlefield. 

Given that he was trained by the one and only Bruce Wayne himself, he has then gained insane human strength, speed, agility, and even reflexes. He was definitely the type you would want to anger the least—otherwise, you would definitely find yourself being killed by the 50,000 volts of Escrima Sticks that he always carried on his back. 

If a superhero like him is back in Gotham City during such a right timing, you assume he’s probably back for the same reason as you did, more or less.

“Say, are you perhaps back for The Joker?”

“Yeah, but there’s more to that. The Justice League has contacted me to investigate Bruce’s disappearance as they couldn’t contact him for a week now.” 

Disappearance? Now that’s new for you. You knew that he was away for some league missions, but never would you have thought that he would actually disappear. 

Could he have done it himself for an unspecified reason? Or worse, has Mr Wayne fallen into the traps of the enemy? 

Now that is something you definitely have to look into as well—because finding him would be the key to knowing about Changmin’s faked death for the past several years. 

“Count me in, Nightwing.” 

“Woah, slow down Batgirl. What makes you think you would wanna come along with me?” 

“Well, for one, the current Joker is somehow the former Robin that we all thought he died. But I’ve just encountered him days prior, and he is very much alive and well. And I need answers.” You firmly stated, and you did not take no for an answer. Clearly, Nightwing had sensed that in you and knew there was no point in convincing you otherwise.

“Hmm, this seems more like a romantic couple reunion situation to me.” He teased.

He wasn’t wrong though. 

“He’s family and I deserve to know, Nightwing. Please.” You emphasised the last word while taking a few steps closer to him as you stared into his eyes. 

He looked at you for a few seconds before he eventually put on a smile. He gently laid his hands on your head and patted you. “Alright, girlie. Let’s figure out where would be the best place to look for them.” 

Just when he finished his statement, a radio transmission was sent in through his earpiece, and he shared one of them with you to hear the message.

“Reports have stated that there were sightings of The Joker near the ports, and he has gotten several hostages with him. All officers on duty, please report to the site at once!” 

“Then that’s where we’re headed, sweetheart.” 

Immediately, you got your batclaw out, ready to start swinging across the buildings to head to your destination. You looked at Nightwing in confusion as he stood there and stretched his muscles.

“Well, aren’t you leaving too?” 

“Oh no, you get to the location first. Don’t worry, I’ll catch up in no time. I was a former acrobat, after all. Don’t need no batclaw to swing around buildings.” He winked, and you rolled your eyes back slightly as you started to get used to his flirty remarks. 

Before you made your move, he spoke to you one last time before you two were to part ways for a bit. 

“Call me, Sangyeon. It’s much better than repeating my superhero name all the time.”

Just as you reached the port's entrance, Gotham City had to start a heavy downpour, making the situation much worse. 

But it wasn’t something you weren’t used to since you have been in such conditions before on several missions. However, since the motive tonight was to find both Changmin and Mr Wayne, you couldn’t help but feel nervous, something that you haven’t experienced in a while. 

At least not since that fateful day 5 years ago. 

Shaking your thoughts away, you calmed yourself down and reminded yourself that the hostages come first, then family. 

You ran to the gates but saw that they were already hacked open. Just then, Sangyeon jumps down from one of the higher buildings and places his hands on one of your shoulders. 

“They don’t call me a hacking wizard for nothing.” 

“Well, guess I have a rival in this field of work now.” You chuckled. 

“Alright, let’s go.” 

As you both entered the ports, a group of thugs were already on standby, as if they were expecting your arrival hours ago. Each of them was armed with a weapon, ready to put up a fight. 

Sangyeon then gets both of his Escrima Sticks out from his back and positions himself in his offensive state. 

“Wanna see the famous Nightwing himself in action?” 

“Just be careful out there.” You replied. 

“Always have been.” 

As soon as the thugs began charging towards your direction, the both of you did the same, beginning to take down the enemies one by one. 

It seemed that Sangyeon wasn’t all talk and thought highly about himself because you’ve now witnessed how skilled and quick he is at combat with your own eyes. He could take out at least 4 at once, leaving no room for them to retaliate. None of them stood a chance against the superhero himself—quite frankly, he could handle them all on his own if needed. 

You have definitely improved from 5 years ago too. You were now much quicker and your skills have upped a level—handling several enemies simultaneously. With the new gadgets that Alfred has equipped you with, you definitely found it a lot easier to deal with the enemies and not just entirely rely on pure brute strength. 

Within 10 minutes, both of you have successfully wiped out the entire thugs, and they were all lying lifelessly on the ground, allowing you to move on to find the hostages. 

“Well, aren’t you a rather good fighter yourself, Batgirl.” Sangyeon was surely impressed with the way you presented yourself tonight. 

“Now that’s flattering coming from the former Robin himself.” You counterbacked, and you earned a laugh from the man himself. 

“This isn’t over yet, Y/N. There are definitely more thugs lurking around the area. I suggest we split up and take on each side, and I’ll let you know if I come up with anything.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

“Let me know if you need help, okay? You’re not in this alone.” 

Thanks, Sangyeon. It means a lot. “I’ll contact you soon.” 

Splitting up, you decided to take on the right side of the ports, defeating the thugs in your way as you slowly made your way through. Eventually, you found hostages along your way, and you freed them by using your batclaw to cut through the ropes they were tied up with, and they ran to their safety towards the GCPD at the front entrance. 

Finally, you have reached the last destination that you could’ve scooped out for any remaining hostages, the lighthouse. 

Fingers crossed, you were mentally praying before making the move that Changmin would be there. 

It seemed that you had deduced your theory correctly, and sure enough, he was there—holding up several hostages, ready to throw them down into the deep, freezing ocean. 

“CHANGMIN STOP!!” You screamed, and that got his attention.

He turned back to look at you, and his eyes widened upon the contact. It was you again; this time, he wasn’t wearing a mask anymore. 

It seemed as if he hadn't recovered from the encounter days prior because he was beginning to malfunction again, and how badly you just wanted to help him by taking him back for good now. 

“Please… Changmin. Let us talk. Please, talk to me about it.” You begged, and unknowingly tears began to form in your eyes. 

Immediately, he dropped the hostages down onto the concrete floor, and they quickly ran for it. His attention was now entirely on you, eyes widened while trying to make sense of everything.

“Y/N… I… All these years later… I can’t…” 

“No Changmin. You can, and you will come back to us.” 

Come back to me.

“What have I done? I’m… I’m a monster now, a terrifying criminal and psychopath. I’m beyond saving.” He now stares down at his bloodied, shaking hands, and his speech begins to stammer. 

“No, you just need to press reset. And we will help with that.” 

Let me help you. 

“Why? Why, Y/N? After all these years and everything?” Tears were now beginning to form in his as well, and he was trying his best to hold them back.

“Because I love you and have always been after all these years.” 

You were now slowly taking one step at a time closer to him, and he slowly did the same but backwards. 

“Y/N… No, you can’t.” 

“I can and I will. I have longed for you endlessly, and I always find myself coming back to you, even if you are no longer Robin.” 

“That’s not true.” 

“It is. And I will prove it to you.” 

Changmin was now pinned against the guardrails of the lighthouse and he was stuck with nowhere to run. You were now standing right in front of him—centimetres apart, when you gently laid your palms onto both sides of his face, slowly rubbing away the white makeup that sat on his face. 

He then looks down at you, standing motionless before muttering a quiet: “I warn you. I’ll break your heart.” 

You smiled back at him. “I know you more than you know yourself, cowboy. Fill me more with that dangerous love of yours—there’s nothing Batgirl can’t take on anyways.” 

With that, you quickly took Changmin into your embrace, and the tears that formed within his eyes began to drip down slowly. 

Yes, Changmin. I’m here now. I will protect you from all of this madness— 

That short-lived moment was then interrupted abruptly as that familiar chilling voice from years ago started to haunt you.

“My my, what do we have here? A little family reunion, isn’t it?” 

Both of you turned behind to see the real Joker standing in front of you, with a syringe containing a rather intriguing green liquid, while having a group of thugs behind him. 

You and Changmin were now cornered, and there was no way to escape. It seemed as if history was repeating itself. 

“Damn, I guess the dose wasn’t enough for that Robin boy to take on my persona fully. I guess the test was an ultimate failure.” He was now flicking the syringe bottle; his eyes were now entirely on you. 

“Hmm.. maybe another test subject would be worth trying out… someone whose name rhymes with Batgirl.” 

The Joker was taunting you and moving closer to you now. You had to think of something quickly because clearly, Changmin was in no state of fighting back. You could use one of your gadgets for close-range combat, but given the number of enemies you were up against, there was only a 50% success rate. 

Maybe I could use a smoke bomb to distract them while I think of something real quick—

“Batgirl!! Dodge and leave right now! Trust me!!” 

That voice. It was Sangyeon. You quickly redirected your attention to the opposite building across the lighthouse. He was now equipped with several explosive batarangs, and is now aiming towards your direction. Once he let go and threw them towards you, you quickly grabbed Changmin and jumped straight down into the cold, freezing ocean.

As soon as you both touched down into the waters, the explosion went off and the parts of the lighthouse came crumbling down along with the enemies that were on it. 

Before you knew it, both of you were slowly beginning to lose air before finally being fully engulfed by the ocean waves.

It has been a few days since that encounter with The Joker himself at the port. When you dived into the ocean, you tried your best to swim towards the shore while carrying Changmin with you—despite the constant moments where the ocean waves would engulf you both while trying to swim back up again. As soon as you reached dry land, you immediately passed out before seeing Sangyeon coming to both of your rescue.

When you finally came to, you were left with just a few minor scratches and nothing major. You demanded to know where Changmin was and eventually found it lying on the operation table—the same one you were lying on 5 years ago. An oxygen mask was attached around his face, along with an IV drip by the side. 

According to Alfred, it seemed that Changmin was systematically subjected to a wide range of shock therapy and torture over the few years that he was captured alive by the psychopath himself. Eventually, Joker decided to take things a step ahead and injected various serums into his body, eventually leading to his breakdown. Hence, he decided to let Changmin take over his identity for a period of time while he went into hiding.

It was definitely a lot and hard to take in for you. You couldn’t imagine how brutal it was for Changmin over the past few years, all wounded and injured from that fateful day, only to be taken back to The Joker’s lair and left to experience all of the barbaric tortures he had up his sleeve. 

You stood right at the windows of the operating room, placing your hand on it while trying your best to hold back your tears. This went on for a few days—it was best to let him rest after all.

Sangyeon was staying for a while as he was still on the mission to track down Mr Wayne’s location, and he would often check up on you as well, ensuring you that Changmin would be alright and he would wake up real soon. 

All you could do at this point was hope for the best and that Changmin would return to his usual self when he woke. 

The bright glaring lights blinded Changmin’s eyes as he finally struggled to open them up. Once he has finally adjusted his sight, he tries to make sense of his surroundings. 

He was back at the Batcave—all patched up and had an IV drip right into his arms. He tried turning his head around, trying to take in everything as he struggled to regain his memory. 

And that was when he remembered that the both of you were up at the lighthouse, desperately trying to escape The Joker. 

Almost immediately after that thought, a pair of arms wrapped around him tightly as he tried to sit up from his bed. 

It was you whom he had been longing to see. 

God, how much he had missed your embrace. Your scent, the warmth you gave, and your bright, bubbly persona that radiates whenever you are around him. 

And now he’s back to witness it all close-up. 

He returned the hug to you, squeezing a little tightly and clinging onto you for dear life. He wouldn’t let you go anytime soon, and he wants to savour the moment and make it up to you after being away for years. He slowly turned his head to take the sweet strawberry scent of your hair—ah, you were still using his favourite shampoo. He couldn’t help but to also rest his lips on your scalp as well. 

“Changmin… I don’t even know where to begin…” You muffled since you were squeezed into his big muscular chest.

“Let’s just stay like this for a while, hmm?” 

Silence. But it wasn’t awkward in the slightest bit. Instead, you both appreciated it—a lot was happening in both of your minds. 

He’s back. He was back in his comfort zone, former residence, and home. 

You were his home. 

There were just so many things he regretted back then too, how he wasn’t able to save you and ended up being held captive and tortured by The Joker himself. Most importantly, he regretted that he couldn’t tell you how he felt about you, especially when he had seen you more than just a friend and sidekick for years. 

But now that he was alive and back in the game, it was his chance. 

Gently grabbing your shoulders, he pushes you away so that you look at him deep into his eyes. He takes in a big breath before he decides to spill the beans. What he didn’t expect was that you spat out the same exact thing that has been lingering on his mind, word by word. 

“So uh, I thought you should know that I’ve had feelings for you for years now.” You both said at the same time. It took a few seconds for the both of you to process what the hell actually happened before bursting out in loud laughter. 

“Gee, Y/N. And I thought it has been one-sided for years, and all those flirty remarks I’ve made were just for show, and my efforts have gone down the drain.” 

“Well, I’m pleased to tell you those flirty remarks worked.” 

You both giggled before Changmin decided to press on. “So when did this lovey-dovey feeling start?” 

“Maybe around when I was 12?” 

“Hah! I win. I’ve liked you ever since you came into the slumps.” 

“That isn’t a victory, Changmin. It just shows how whipped you have always been and how easily you actually fall in love with someone.” 

“Hey, it's not my fault when my love interest is actually a rockstar who excels at everything she does. Mind you, she is the best computer wizz I’ve ever seen with that long luscious brown hair of hers.” 

“Yeah, you’re insufferable.” You huffed. 

“But admit it, you like it.” He winked back at you, causing you to slap him on the chest while rolling your eyes back. 

It was when he decided to lean in a bit closer while gently placing his fingers around your chin, lifting your face so that he could see you clearly. 

“Since my princess literally saved my life, it is time for her prince charming to return the favour, no?” 

You gave him a confused look. “Whatever are you planning, Mr. Ji Changmin.” 

“Something that starts with the letter K.” 

He then swipes his finger on your lips to feel those luscious, juicy lips once before crashing his onto yours. And he was right all these years, after all—on how good they tasted, and it was definitely a kiss that was worth the wait and savouring. 

You didn’t reject it at all and proceeded to adjust your position so that it was easier to ease into the kiss. Tilting both of your heads to grant more entrance while your fingers moved up into his hair, Changmin did the same while his other hand rested on your waist. 

How badly he wished to stay like this forever. To kiss you, hold you tight, and never let go nor fail you again. He made a promise to himself this time that he was definitely not going to repeat the same mistake, and he was no longer going to hurt anyone else.

Including you.

The intense moment was abruptly cut short by a low grunt coming from behind. It was Sangyeon.

“Well, it seems as if I have chosen the wrong timing, haven’t I?” 

Oh, how badly you knew he somehow did it on purpose. You were definitely going to make him pay real soon.

Changmin being innocent, brushes him off and asks if something was the matter (since, technically, he hasn’t encountered how flirty he could be). 

“I’m here to ask you about Bruce. I’m sure you have some information that is worth hearing about.” Sangyeon then crossed his arms, and immediately his facial expression shifted, and you both knew well that it was time to get back into business. 

Once Alfred came to ensure that Changmin could continue his daily routine as usual, Sangyeon immediately cut to the chase and began pressing on the topic of importance. 

“It was definitely a recent thing, I would say. The Joker tortured me for a few years before finally making me into his other half to take over his dirty job for him while he disappeared into thin air. And it was recently when I actually saw how he was dragging a body down into the basement of his lair. If it aligns with what you have in mind, then I’m sure it is worth checking it out.” 

All of you pondered what Changmin said. It could be Mr Wayne who was under the hands of The Joker at the moment. According to Sangyeon, there have been reports of sightings of the man on the most recent site where Mr Wayne was last seen. 

“So that would be the first place for us to look at, I suppose?” Changmin questioned.

“Supposedly, yes,” Sangyeon answered bluntly. 

Just as all of you would start gearing up to head out to the place of interest, the batcomputer began blaring—it was from Commissioner Gordon. Picking up the call, all of you were met with a very distraught commissioner. Something must’ve happened. 

“You guys have to see this right now.” 

Immediately, the commissioner forwards a link that redirects all of you to a live webcam. 

It was live. And there on screen sat a badly wounded individual, tied up on a wooden chair with only a single light bulb above his head as their only light source. 

It was Batman.

The Joker swiftly turned the camera towards him, and he placed this huge menacing grin on his face, knowing that he was up to no good once again. 

“Welcome, my fellow watchers to tonight’s grand show! Ah, it seems as if the entire GCPD & the Bat Family are here to witness the epic performance of the century!!” 

The Joker then turns the camera back to Batman as he begins circling him, continuing with his act. 

“Now, I’m pretty sure we all recognise this lovely individual right here. Isn’t it a bummer how he’s all wounded up badly? When he is supposed to be the strongest superhero in Gotham City?” He began laughing and then slowly stood behind Mr Wayne, bending down to rest his hands on Batman’s shoulders. 

“It seemed as if my very first experiment had failed terribly, given that Robin had escaped thanks to Batgirl & Nightwing. Perhaps the 10,000 volts of shock therapy & the dosage of my serum weren’t enough throughout the years Robin was held captive at my lair. But fear not, ladies and gentlemen! For I have a new subject now, the famous Batman himself, and I wonder what would happen if I turn him into a Joker?” 

The madman then walked over towards the right, and his hand gripped the latch of a switch, and all of you wished you did not have to witness what came next.

Pulling down the latch, it triggered the shock machine and Batman was screaming at the top of his lungs, clearly in a lot of pain while the high electricity flowed through his entire body. It went on for a good 10 seconds before The Joker finally decided to turn it off. Then, he walks towards the front of the camera, completely blocking Batman out of the picture. 

“Here’s my suggestion, fellow Bat Family and the officers at GCPD. I will be kind enough to tell you my location. Come to the abandoned Nightville Amusement Park in an hour. I’m pretty sure your “father” here would want his children to come save his ass, no?” 

The Joker then laughed menacingly again before ending the livestream. 

Oh my god. 

Batman is now in the hands of The Joker. And he has clearly shown all of you that he wasn’t kidding and meant serious business. If neither of you were careful, Mr Wayne would be next in line to get killed. 

All of you will definitely have to come up with an actual plan and strategy before heading to the site, and this time you will stop this whole fiasco the psychopath himself has planned. 

Thankfully, that was where Sangyeon came in and he began to take charge of everything and everyone as he gathered both sides to listen closely to his words. 

“Are you with me, lads?”

The clock struck strictly at 10 at night as the three of you arrived at the amusement park. Based on Sangyeon’s lead, he deemed it too dangerous for the officers to tag along at first. The plan was to let the three clear out the place until 80% of the thugs were wiped out, and then the GCPD would step in and scope the place out. Commissioner Gordon couldn’t agree more. 

On the other hand, Alfred remained at his position in the Batcave in front of the monitor screen, keeping you three updated with everything going on around your surroundings while being the middle person to communicate to the GCPD upon Sangyeon’s orders. 

As you three stood in front of the amusement park gates, Sangyeon decided to break the ice and loosen the atmosphere for a bit. He focused on Changmin, who was clearly doing a few stretches here and there.

“So how does it feel to be back in the Robin suit, young lad?” 

“Is it bad that the suit’s gotten a little tighter?” 

“Well, guess that’s some good news for you, Batgirl.” He then poked his head out to look at you, who were standing on the far right side. 

Dear heavens, Lee Sangyeon. I swear, for the love of God— 

“What about yours, mister? I’m sure all of the time that’s gone to leading the Teen Titans and patrolling Blüdhaven has taken a toll on your romantic relationship.” You fought back, but clearly, he doesn’t back down easily.

“Nah, I have my ways. She’ll come back to me when she’s bored and lonely. She always has been anyway.” 

Huh. So he does have a certain special someone. That is definitely going to be added to your books of “things to stalk more about Nightwing’s dirty secrets”. 

Clearing your throat to bring everyone back to reality, you turned your head back to the entrance, where all of you began to hear the footsteps growing louder each second. 

“Mr Lee, there’s about 60 thugs headed your way. Be prepared.” Alfred’s voice chimed into the intercom. 

“Well, 60 is just a number.” Sangyeon proclaimed. 

“So what do we do now?” You asked. 

Then, Changmin stepped forward and stood in front of you both. “We fight.” 

Immediately, he charged towards one of the thugs and wrapped his legs around his neck, pinning him down to the ground and punching him hard enough to knock the individual out cold. Not wasting any time, he began moving onto the thugs one after another. 

“Gee, your boyfriend’s one impatient little fella, isn’t he?” 

“And so are you, Nightwing.” 

You and Sangyeon did the same by charging towards the enemies. It was as if the tension and atmosphere were different tonight, and you felt the company that you had been longing for years. With both Robin and Nightwing with you, you knew that you were all in good hands and reaching The Joker himself wouldn’t be a problem this time round. 

The three of you worked amazingly as a team, performing a combo of attacks and matching one another’s fighting style almost instantly, even though it was the first time the three of you fought together. Sangyeon was definitely impressed, to say the least, that Bruce had gotten himself some good young sidekicks to fill in his spot after he had left. He was smiling like a proud older brother would as he looked at how you and Changmin battled. 

The enemy was successfully wiped out within 10 minutes thanks to the great teamwork. With that, the screen from one of the televisions that hung loosely at one of the lamp posts started broadcasting what seemed like a live message. 

The Joker. 

“Well well, I must say, an amazing job well done as a team!! Bravo bravo, you three have certainly exceeded my expectations! Now, moving deeper into the parks will not be that easy. So choose wisely and find out where Batman and I could be. Adios for now!!” 

“God, will he stop with all of these taunts?” You complained, getting sick and frustrated with all of his jokes by now. 

Changmin then walked close to you and placed one of his hands on your shoulder. “It’s okay, Y/N. We will definitely get Mr Wayne back home safely.” 

“Yeah… we will this time.” You tried your best to return a smile. 

Sangyeon then makes his way towards you both to inform you that it was best to split up to narrow down the possible location where The Joker and Batman could be. Before he could even suggest the plan, you gripped Changmin’s hands tightly, intertwining your fingers with his. 

“I suppose you wouldn’t mind Robin and Batgirl taking on one side of the park, right?” 

Sangyeon stared at you both for a moment, and you were clearly not budging, standing firm to prove that you were taking no as an answer. 

He immediately sighed and agreed to your request. “Okay okay, lovebirds. Just make sure to do your actual job.” 

You swear if it weren’t for him being your senior and part of the Bat Family, you would’ve whooped his ass and sent him back to his rightful place. 

“Alright, jokes aside. Both of you, please contact me as soon as you find out something. Don’t even try to act bravely and jump into your demise. I mean it.” 

It all sounded too familiar. It was precisely what Mr Wayne said to the both of you 5 years ago. The Sangyeon that stood before you now wasn’t the flirty yet annoying senior you have come to despise. Now this man is feared across the nation, and one you would look up to actually. He was the spitting image of Batman.

“Understood, Sangyeon. You should be careful out there too.” Changmin said firmly. 

“Kiddo, I always have been.” 

Within seconds he was out of sight, jumping down towards the other side of the park as he made his way quickly through the thugs. 

“So, what do you suggest we do then, miss Y/N? You clearly asked me to stay with you.” 

“Well, for starters, let’s look around and get rid of the thugs along our way to find Mr Wayne as soon as possible. Find The Joker, put him behind bars, and that’s a wrap.” 

“Sounds good to me. Lead the way, Batgirl.”

Both of you went to each section of the park and searched every crook and corner to see if there were any traces or clues to where both of them might be. 

If you were to deduce, according to the live footage—they were either at higher ground or beneath the amusement park. You tried searching for a latch which would lead you down but to no avail. 

It was when Changmin finally called out to you as he noticed one of the buildings furthest from you had a little light source coming out from it. It led up to one of the roller coaster rides, and the stairs were clearly destroyed so that the officers could not reach high ground alone. 

Only those of you equipped with the batclaw could swing your way up to the building itself. 

On both of your signals, you both immediately launched your batclaw and quickly made your way towards the source, hoping that it was finally where your mentor would be.

Please, Mr Wayne. Please hang in there. We’re coming.

“Hmm… it seems as if your kids are taking a little longer, don’t you think? The Joker was now swinging his pistol around his hands, growing impatient as there was no sign of either of you coming anytime soon.

That was when Batman slowly tilted his head up as he tried his best to mutter a few words back to counterattack his remarks.

“Don’t… underestimate my kids… they’re a lot… stronger than… you think they are…” 

The Joker immediately threw a punch right into Batman’s face once again. “You know clearly that’s not the right answer, no?” 

“Well, clearly you aren’t thinking straight, Joker.” 

His eyes widened as he turned towards the source of where the voice came from. When he finally did, he found Changmin already in position with a few shurikens within the palm of his hands, and you did the same while holding onto your batclaw.

“Why, if it isn’t my wonderful “son” back in town! How have you been? Papa has missed you loads.” 

“It’s over, Joker. Your spree of crimes ends tonight and you’re finally going to jail after all these years.” Changmin declared.

“Disrespecting your papa, I see. Well, then. I’m sorry but it seems like I will have to teach you and your little girlfriend a lesson then.” The Joker slowly walked towards you with a group of thugs emerging from the shadows behind. Just like 5 years ago, they were all equipped with their weapons, the right to strike whenever. 

“Y/N, let’s do our usual formation?” 

“Say no more, Robin.” 

Both sides struck simultaneously, and a heated battle soon erupted within the building. With the batclaw in hand, you use it to shoot to get the thugs close to you as you knock them out cold with your punches and kicks. Changmin, on the other hand, used his shurikens wisely and aimed at all of the thugs, not missing a target. 

The Joker managed to get this way close towards you both, but he always seemed to have missed his shot or he was often caught by either of you two, pulling him close and throwing punches while he backed off to regain himself. 

As all of the thugs were wiped out, The Joker was now the one being cornered by you two, and he clearly did not stand a chance.

“Hah! Don’t even think that you’re about to win!” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls up a vile of green liquid. However, judging from the container that was used this time, it wasn’t an ordinary serum now.

No. A poison gas bomb! 

“I guess you know what this means then. That saves a lot of trouble. Robin, this is for you!” The Joker was about to throw it at Changmin when he finally decided to change direction and threw it towards you instead.

“Y/N! No!!!” Changmin quickly jumps onto you to push you out of the way as the poison gas bomb detonates. 

But he was in no luck as Nightwing made his way here in time, destroying it before the gas spread around too much. At the same time, The Joker was pinned down by the one and only Batman, who was now free from being tied up thanks to Sangyeon. 

The GCPD officers then made their way here along with the commissioner as they handcuffed the psychopath and started taking him away.

“This isn’t over, Bat Family!! I will be back to haunt Gotham City again!!” Those were the sentences that The Joker kept repeating on a loop till he was out of the picture. 

Eventually, Mr. Wayne made his way toward you and brought you both into his embrace. 

“I knew you both could’ve done it. Welcome home, Robin.” 

Those words were enough to get you both all teary-eyed, primarily for Changmin though. He had longed to be reunited with his mentor, and how much he wanted to apologise for all of the trouble he had caused over the years. 

“Mr Wayne…I—” 

“It’s not your fault, and it was beyond your control. I’m sorry I failed you as your mentor. And father.”

He rests his chin upon Changmin’s head and closes his eyes before muttering something for you too. “You too, Batgirl. You have grown and I’m beyond proud of you.” 

You have yet to hear Mr. Wayne praise you like that. He doesn’t talk much, nor has he ever praised you in such a manner since he wasn’t really great with words. Hearing that from Mr Wayne himself, after all of what you’ve been through, was surely enough to get you bawl your eyes out in front of him. 

Sangyeon notices the little heartwarming family reunion and he can’t help but smile from afar. It was nice seeing how Bruce has gotten a new family on his own, and he is happy how you two were given a new life and beginning with him. A few seconds later, he decided not to interrupt, turned his heel in the opposite direction and started walking away. That is until Bruce’s voice stops him in his tracks. 

“Nightwing. Or rather, Sangyeon. Thank you.” 

He hasn’t heard those words from Bruce either in a very long time. Every time they met, Mr. Wayne often gave him a cold shoulder as he tended to focus more on the mission and rather cut to the chase. But Sangyeon knew that he had always been like that—it was just his way of worrying about his former sidekick. And how Sangyeon will always have a special place in Bruce’s heart. 

Without turning back, he raised one of his arms and began waving. “I’ll see you around, Bruce. Don’t get caught next time.” 

Mr Wayne chuckled for the first time in a while. “I won’t.”

A couple of days had passed since that day and it was time that the Bat Family took some time off to rest up and relax. 

Mr Wayne was stuck in his room most of the time, with Alfred constantly checking up on him—bringing him his meals and checking his vitals to ensure that he wasn’t pushing himself too hard during recovery. Knowing him, Mr Wayne is definitely the type to wander around and get himself busy even when he is in no shape to stand up or perform his daily routines as usual. 

On the other hand, you and Changmin have been spending as much time as you could with one another. It wasn’t easy when Alfred often dragged Changmin down to the sick room, claiming that he hadn’t fully recovered and had no time to play around. You had to muffle up a laugh whenever you see Alfred taking him away to his second home now. 

It was a relatively calm afternoon as you decided to curl up with a novel in your room. Every so often, you would be reminded of what Mr. Wayne had told you last night about everything that has happened until now.

First and foremost, he apologised for keeping you in the dark about Changmin’s condition as he was afraid of losing you as well, and he wanted to keep you safe from The Joker as much as he could. But when you encountered Changmin at the GCPD, he knew his secret wouldn’t last long. 

He has been keeping track of both of your movements even when he was away on league missions, having elicited the help of Alfred. When you helped Changmin escape from the lighthouse, he knew that The Joker was definitely going to target you next without a doubt. Hence, he decided to surrender himself as bait—knowing fully that you both would definitely come to the rescue. At the same time, it also saves time in finding out The Joker’s actual hideout. 

As much as you thought he could be insane at times, you knew his methods somehow always work, and he has definitely thought them through. Giving a little scolding to Mr Wayne was all that you could do before it was time for him to rest up. 

Returning to your novel, you slowly reached the story's climax until you felt someone gently hit your head with a book.

Changmin. 

“Hey, what was that for!” 

“Someone has been too invested or daydreaming to the point that she hasn’t heard me call out her name for over 10 times now.” He crossed his arms while giving you a pout. 

“Ugh, please don’t do that face, for goodness sake.” 

“Why? Because you like it?” He purposely widens his eyes ever so slightly. 

“You need to go see a therapist for real, Changmin.” 

Standing up from your couch, you decided to tuck your book away before walking towards him and wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“So, what brings you here today?” You asked while giving a little peck on his lips. 

“Well.” He pecks your lips back. “Alfred said that I’m fully recovered and I should be able to return to my usual routine with no problem.” 

“Should. Changmin.” You emphasised the word.

“Hey, I’ll prove to you that I am one healthy man. What do you say? Shall we go out on our first date?” 

“Hmm, tempting. Where are we going exactly?”

“Well, for starters, I still have to treat you to your favourite Akamaru Ramen that I promised 5 years ago.”

A/N: who knows i might cook up a nightwing Sangyeon fic in the near future 🤭

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @k-films @flwoie @hokupi @zzoguri @kyusqult @tinkerbell460 @cheonsafics @sulkygyu @jaerisdiction @lngwayup

[password-door-lock]

Naturally, Unknown did not expect, when he brought you back to Magenta, that you’d be so glib about the whole affair. You talked and joked with him on the car ride here, apparently unaware of (or, at the very least, unperturbed by) the blindfold covering your eyes. You didn't seem at all fazed by his rough handling as he steered you through the compound itself, and you even complimented the design of his crisp white suit. So perhaps Unknown should’ve been prepared for your reaction when he finally took off your blindfold in the intelligence room. 

Instead, he’s a little caught off guard by the way you move your hand up to cover your mouth and stifle your laughter. “Oh my god,” you giggle.

“I told you I had a present for you here in paradise,” Unknown points out, trying to sound smooth and unbothered. He doesn’t understand what you’re laughing at. The gift he picked out for you might be simple, but he feels it suits the occasion and fits your interests well enough, 

“Yep,” you manage between giggles, kneeling down to examine the gift that Unknown left out for you. “It’s just… earlier, I thought you were hitting on me.”

Unknown thinks back to your compliant behavior throughout this entire ordeal. “And you went along with it.” Apparently, this whole time, you’ve had some sort of crush on him. Maybe if he’d known what to look for, he would’ve picked up on the signs. 

“Um, yeah?” Your amused expression has transmuted into one of disbelief. “Anyway, what was I supposed to think? You called me and told me to entertain you with my frightened face!”

“Yes,” Unknown confirms. He did, in fact, say that, which might explain why you’d think he was interested in you. In your defense, he is interested in you— but he doesn’t see how that would be mutually exclusive with the gift he’s given you. “But I also said I had a present for you, prince(ss). Did you think I was lying?”

“I thought it was a euphemism,” you admit, “Like, ‘yes, hello, cutie, I have a little gift for you,’” You lower your voice into an annoyingly passable impression of Unknown’s most seductive sneer. He really did not expect this when he brought you to paradise, but perhaps he should’ve seen it coming. “And then you’d go in for the kiss.”

“Would you rather have that kind of present instead, cutie?” Unknown drawls, establishing himself in a languid leaning position against the wall. Despite himself, he’s looking forward to hearing your answer. You have the absolute audacity to giggle at him. 

“God, you’re so cute,” you observe without malice. To your great fortune, Unknown discovers that he doesn’t mind being labeled as something so trifling as cute when you’re the one doing the labeling. Still, you shouldn’t press your luck. “I think I’ll be keeping the socks,” you decide, picking up the parcel and carefully removing the red ribbon tied around it so as not to damage the bow. Unknown feels gratified that you’re pleased with his handiwork— he did spend several minutes following a metube tutorial to dress the present that way— though his heart sinks at the knowledge that he’s apparently missed his chance for a kiss. “The penguin print is really cute, and anyway, I didn’t bring any luggage. These socks are the only change of clothes I have.”

Unknown chafes a bit at your decision to describe a pair of penguin-print socks with the same adjective you just used on him, even if you did mean it as a compliment. “I can get you clothes to wear.”

“If you want,” you flop down in Unknown’s desk chair, looking unfairly attractive. “But… since you gave me a present, shouldn’t I get you something in return?” You fashion your lips into a pout, being obvious and really altogether corny.

But, then again, Unknown is a man who tried to lure you to paradise with a pair of novelty holiday socks from a department store Christmas bin. Clearly, corniness is not a dealbreaker for him. “What did you have in mind, sweetheart?” 

You shudder at his tone. Then you have the nerve to say, “I was thinking maybe some Christmas tree socks?”

Unknown turns around to face the wall, against which he presses his forehead. “Okay.” He had thought you’d want to kiss him. After all, you seemed so eager when you arrived. But he’s not interested in pushing for something that you don’t want to do. 

“I’m kidding,” you announce, “Let’s make out. I left my wallet at the apartment, anyway. If I got you the socks, I would have to steal them, and then we’d both get in trouble.” 

Unknown is so excited to follow your suggestion that he ignores the second part of your utterance entirely. The placement of your wallet is a topic to be explored at a later date.

[laelelinae]

hii can I have general akaashi headcanons pls? TYY!

General Akaashi HCs!

The type of person to talk to himself 😭😭

Probably just muttered things to himself and practice compliments to give 😭

I FEEL LIKE HE WOULD HAVE SILLY SOCKS,LIKE FROG ONES AND SHARK ONES HFGGHGH

Probably has a ikea shark plushie and the fat bear plushie

HE LOVES PLANTS IM SURE OF IT. Probably has a lot of plants in his house and a few in his room

Talks to them like he’s a dad to themmmm

I feel like he’s pretty nerdy😭 but probably has stable grades?

Probably has the cleanest and comfiest room known in mankind

I feel like he would smell minty like sweet and minty or just some refreshing smell!

Probably a froggie boy ,I feel like he had a frog phase and owns a crochet frog hat taht his mom made 😭😭

Type of person to get bottled black coffee and sandwiches at convenience store in the mornings

I think he’s the type of person to read people when’s out like when he’s bored ,he just looks at someone random and think about how their life,their career and how they are ?

Probably LOVES crunchy sweet green grapes

I feel like he loves light green and dark blue?

Likes going to libraries a few times a week

Probably a top in his class? Not top 1 but around top 3 to 5?

He loves making snowman in the winter :)))

Probably a mommy boy (in a good way) (his mom is probably really really sweet)

Loves going to local bakeries

LOCAL GRANDMAS AND GRANDPAS LOVES HIM LIKE?? HES SUCH A GOOD BOI

Listens to Wave to Earth and probably Lamp😝

Has a few pictures of you and him on dates and silly pictures of him and Bokuto

If you ever go on dates with him,he probably always bring small tiny gifts like snacks or little clips he randomly brought for you <3

Does whatever you do

Quality time is a must for this man😭

Your parents DEFINITELY LOVES HIM AND IS LOOKING FORWARD FOR YOUR WEDDING LIKEEE

He probably walks old people dogs on holiday mornings and he gets some tips or food in return 😭

Has a crochet frog keychain on his backpack

I feel like he does yoga sometimes

LOVESSS bringing you on picnic & aquarium dates

I bet he LOVES Shinchan (me too)

Probably has a salt lamp

Likes collecting some gems from some local shops

Whenever he’s sick or your sick,he would make soups that taste like literal heaven

I feel like he dates to marry (loyal boy!)

I feel like he would love to visit local farms and helps out the farmers

Loves taking the trains and take some pictures

Loves cuddling you,pecking you with some kisses

Secretly REALLY caring and LOVING.

Probably prefer at home dates more,would just love to lay on your thighs or chest and just rest on there like a sloth😭

Probably snores really quietly

Loves snacking on cucumbers and drinking veggie juices

Have bokuto third wheel your dates 😭

Loves buying you small gifts like always

Buys them in random shops,buys clips,small plushie keychains,matching keychains. And honestly,anything!

Let’s you put on makeup on him😭

You guys went to Uniqlo and then picked outfits for each other !!

Speaking of Uniqlo,surely is a Uniqlo boy!

Loves fat plushies and soft ones

Loves the rain!

Probably has really soft hair but he doesn’t take care of it that often.

SMOOTHHHH SKINNN! Like is shiny and soft?!

Probably has a 2 step skincare, face wash and then some moisturizer 😭

Type of person to never get tanned,he does put on sunscreen and sometimes doesn’t and still never get tanned

Favorited student by many many teachers and students EVEN JANITORS

Probably got so much gifts on his desk on Valentine’s Day,like at least more than 5😭

Would’ve just gave all the chocolate to Bokuto LMFAO

Loves drinking yogurt (especially blueberry flavored or just normal)

I feel like he loves eating crepes

Just love refreshing stuff

When he first started dating you in high school,he probably had dreams and imaginations about proposing to you after college 😭🫶🏻🫶🏻

And guess what? He did 😝

[mores0]

Okay, so, buckle in because I have so much to say about the first episode of Psych, and I already know that this post is going to be extremely long, haha.

So first of all, season one is one of Psych’s best seasons in my opinion, and the first episode is one of my favorites. It’s just so good. And it’s crazy how even though it’s James Roday and Dulé Hill’s first episode, they act like they’ve already known each other and been friends for years- their chemistry is amazing right off the bat.

And Shawn and Gus’ characterizations in this episode are amazing, because as the show goes on they really got watered down, but in this episode- it was amazing. Shawn in this episode was so- I don’t know if this is the right word- but angsty, I guess. And I kind of like it honestly. Lassiter’s ex partner was like “You never know when to give up, don’t you?” And he said something like “Oh, I give up all the time, but only when the moment’s right,” or something like that, and as a “gifted” kid, I felt that. Lmao. And- there’s more that I want to talk about- but I’ll come back around to it later- hang in there.

And Gus is the best. I am Gus on a spiritual level. He has anxiety, (which is actually confirmed because he takes anxiety medication apparently, I didn’t know that). He says that he doesn’t want any part of what Shawn was doing, but he secretly wanted to so bad and Shawn knows that, and said all the right things to give Gus the push he needed to just go for it. And he was having the time of his life, even if he said that he wasn’t. Even when he was running away from the dead bodies screaming, which definitely would’ve been me in that situation, lmao. And then when Shawn solved the case and they were both let go, he had the smuggest little smile on his face, because he knew that Shawn could do it. “Just one more day.” Yeah right, he knew fully well that he was going to do it with Shawn for as long as possible lmao, you’re not fooling anybody.

And then there was Henry and Shawn’s dysfunctional father-son relationship- which even in the first episode is very prominent. And that’s literally how the show started- first scene ever, and it was Shawn doing the hat thing and Henry saying “yeah, that’s adequate.” That pisses me off haha, sorry to everyone who likes Henry. I respect that and can definitely see why people would feel that way- but I just don’t like him very much, haha. Additionally, Shawn didn’t even know that his dad had already been back for a year or so, and they didn’t seem too happy to see each other again which was rough. And later on when Shawn did the hat thing again and even like, noticed things that Henry didn’t, he smiled for a second, which Shawn seemed to be happy about and they could’ve had a moment before Henry ruined it by saying something like “Whatever, you got lucky,” and how he was a disappointment, etc, and then they went back to being angry at each other, which is their main issue I think. Shawn wants Henry’s, I don’t know, approval. He wants that “good job,” but Henry doesn’t want to give it.

And then there’s Lassiter and Shawn’s talk about his arrest, and Shawn brought up that his dad did that so that he could teach him a lesson, so Lassiter was like “Well did you learn it?” And Shawn replied, “I learned that I hated my father.” Which fucking hit me so hard lmao. But then- there’s another scene later on which nobody talks about where Shawn is talking to Mr.McCallum about how he was familiar with disappointing his dad, and how McCallum killed his son, and Shawn spoke about how it was because his son kept letting him down time and time again, before saying that he’d change and he’ll be different, but then just let him down again and how it was the needle that broke the camel’s back- and he was so obviously talking about himself, and that scene was just so raw. I’m losing my mind over it.

Also, I loved officer Allan so much even though she only got, like, two scenes, haha. I wish that she got more than one episode. And it was weird not to see Juliet in this one, haha.

Anyways, there’s so many other scenes that I love, like the shooting range scene, the scene with the guy sneezing on the chicken, Shawn showing Gus the office, Shawn telling the guy to get rid of the shards on his sleeves only for him to brush them onto his leg and boot. Shawn pretending to be Psychic for the first time and working through it. Basically, the entire episode, lmao.

And, yeah, that’s everything I have to say I think. And if you could leave your own thoughts in like, the comments/ a reblog, that would be really cool. Have a nice day. (And sorry that this is so long, lmao).

[camlyee]

an event that changed several lives forever.

↓ lore dump below ↓

Note: transcript for the images will be at the bottom of the post (sorry for the messy handwriting!)

Gitriea-II — the planet of isolation.

I wanted this piece to highlight the cataclysmic event that took place at Gitriea-II’s church that altered the lives of hundreds, though most didn’t know that that night would be their last. Only few survived to recall the tragedy.

TW for vague mentions of abuse, death, and religious trauma.

(so please read with caution)

I won’t go into extreme detail about every character, I’ll probably make separate posts deep diving into each character more and give them the attention they deserve. I’ll briefly mention each character in order (top to bottom) and their present faction.

- Gabriel — Genius Society as an assistant, but pursues architectural studies through the Intelligentsia Guild

- Eve (left) — Intelligentsia Guild (cousins with Gabriel and Shiloh)

- Shiloh — Astral Express member (Gabriel’s little sibling)

- Mary (red hair) — Astral Express member

- Elijah (in Mary’s arms) — Stellaron Hunter

Gabriel and Mary had been planning on wedding, as throughout their youth they were hopelessly in love with each other (it was a kind of puppy love, one slipping the other gifts or gentle hand touches). They hadn’t done anything out of line for two teenagers planning on marrying one another, until they shared a kiss. It was sweet, but it was forbidden. You were expected to reserve your chastity until you were wed, as that was how the Church functioned. Any kind of forbidden acts would lead to punishment, and Gabriel was more than aware of that. As every time he would answer a question wrong or was out of line, the Mothers would ‘redirect’ him with force. He always kept his sleeves rolled down because of it. Mary was already known to be a ‘defective’ child, as her parents went against the church and were ostracized. Mary’s bright red hair and vibrant yellow eyes matched her mother’s and father’s respectively, so there was no hiding her roots. She was a slightly rebellious teenager, though. She knew little about her parents, but remember how much they loved each other, and how she wanted to share that love with Gabriel. Gabriel was scared, though. The paranoia took over him and clawed at his throat, and he was truly afraid of the consequences of loving too much before marriage.

Gabriel would’ve never expected what would’ve happened to Mary when he told the Mothers about what they did. Searing wax poured on her gentle and soft hands, scorching the skin and forever altering both her mind and her flesh. She would never be able to love with her hands again, that’s what the mothers said. After days of her recovery, Mary had approached Gabriel, a smile on her face with hope that things between them wouldn’t be ruined. She didn’t know he was the one that told the mothers. As she asked about how he was, she was met with a cold and unforgiving gaze, a scowl curled on his lips with venom. He told her to never speak to him again, and the whiplash of cruelty brought tears to her eyes. He was never like this before, why was he being so cruel now? Was she truly never meant to love anyone?

With a broken heart, she respected his wishes and left him alone, and not long after, he left to do his missionary work. Maybe he’ll find a woman that can love him, she thought. It took a while for Mary to navigate her tasks with the state of her hands now. But, eventually she was able to do her work with minimal accidents. She worked hard, though being told plenty of times that she was ‘defective’, she wanted the approval from the mothers. She wanted to become a mother and make people proud of her. So she worked. She worked so hard.

One night, she had been cleaning around one of the prayer rooms. She often worked at night so she wouldn’t have the urge to talk to anyone, as it often resulted into an uncomfortable end. She did still experience issues with fine motor skills, especially with her fingers and wrists. The prayer rooms often had plenty of lit candles, as it was one of the primary ways the Church remained lit during the night. Mary reached over with her rag to gently dust an area near the candles and consequently knocked one over. The embers didn’t take long to travel up the cloth hanging over the alter and up the walls. There were dozens of lit candles, and they all began to fester into a large flame. She hurriedly ran out to get help, but it was too late by the time she had gotten to one of the boys in the church, Isaac. The embers quickly engulfed the church, and Mary was only able to pull one other person out, a small child, Elijah. She had no idea there were other survivors.

By the time Gabriel returned home from his missionary duties, it was far too late. The church was nothing but ashes. He couldn’t believe it. Everything he had cared about was gone, and he was sure this was his God’s plan for divine punishment. It has to be. He let out a distraught cry and fell to his knees, the bitter cold snow engulfing him in an icy hug. He sobbed and sobbed until all his senses went numb and everything went dark.

holy shit yapfest over, i hope y’all enjoy some of this writing stuff.. i didn’t even talk about Rory and Isaac, but they’re not in this piece sooo..

Elijah, Shiloh, Isaac, and Rory all belong to @sawnday and he also was a writer for a lot of this lore so.. credit :)

Transcript for the image: (left to right)

> Home to a large church orphanage that follows the Abundance (Yaoshi)

Notes:

- Two Moons

- Below Freezing most of their calendar year

- Minimal daylight

Gitriea-II

- An isolated planet that suffers from a near-frozen climate due to distance from any sun/star.

- Very minimal life, but a few human civilizations call it home.

- Minimal outside influence, but ships can be seen occasionally departing this planet.

- Not much is known about the origins of the planet.

[abilouwrites]

MISERY AND HER THREE FRIENDS

Ooc Shoto?? I haven’t written in foreva

My friends and I have become no stranger to death, to the limbo between death and life. The strange uncomfortable standing at a funeral. I’ve become comfortable in that strange position. I’ve grown to loathe love, the human need to from an attachment to someone. Something.

I’m standing at my best friends funeral, “Erika was, my best friend. An amazing hero. I’ve known her my entire life.. we lived together, and” I sigh, fighting back tears as I shakily exhale, “y’know I’m gonna miss her so much..” I hastily exit, trying to cover my face and avoid looking at the closed casket as photos are snapped left and right. Pictures of what would’ve been an amazing hero, taken out so young. Photographs of hero’s attending the ceremony.

“Your speech” someone approaches me as the mass of people dispersed, “you and Ignite were close” he doesn’t refer to Erika by her name. I’m not surprised, most people didn’t know her as Erika. Only her hero name, by the sharp precise flames that shoot from her palms. Gifting her the name. Ignite.

Misery has taken my last friend, and I will await for when she takes me, “yes” I respond, I find Shoto behind me. He places a hand on my shoulder. A reach to comfort me, “I uh grew up with her, we had a little group. The four of us, throughout everything. I even went to UA with her..”

I see his eyebrow quirk and quickly add on, “the business corse” I smile a little, memories of chasing the halls and watching her battle.

“Oh. You said you had three other friends.. are they here or”

I shake my head, “Amelia passed two years ago, and Suki three” he frowns, “it’s sad but. I think I’ve come to terms with it”

“I’m sorry anyways, if it’s uh” he looks a little nervous and pushes his hair out of his face. Pulled up for a formal event, “not inappropriate. And you don’t have a partner I’d like to take you for coffee”

I find myself agreeing to coffee. To walking down the street in my black dress and his black shirt, “thank you again” I push my hair out of my face and over my shoulder.

And somehow, like magic I find myself. A year later hopelessly in love with him. His head on my lap, my hands combing through his freshly cut hair, “I think I’m in love with you” he murmurs against the plush of my legs. A soft kiss against the scar on my knee. It hurts my heart, brings a fear to my core. Shakes me. Because I’m supposed to die. All of my friends have, and what stops death from coming for me next? Reuniting me with misery once again.

“I love you too” I murmur, massaging his scalp. Touching him slowly and gently. In a way that will comfort us both, soothe him, “was work good?”

He simply nods, and I’m scared. Terrified I won’t have this ever again. It’s an awareness that looms over me, haunts over my shoulder.

“Yes, the clients are paying which is always good”

“Should we get married?” He asks. I freeze, because I want too. I want to marry him, I want everything with him. But I’m so scared I’ll leave him just as my friends have left their partners.

Selfishly I want too. I want to marry him, even if I’m going to die before thirty. I can’t describe this feeling, a dread that I can’t stop.

“Ok” Those words feel like a death sentence, Suki passed just after her engagement became public to us, and her parents. We die as soon as we find love and affection in someone else. But now, there’s no one left. I’m no longer able to follow my solitude in Erika.

I thought I was ready, I expected it. I never knew when it would happen, I just hoped I wouldn’t have any strings attached and now.. now I have the strongest of strings attached to me. I’ve found someone to love me. And I love him back, I don’t want him to be where I was a year ago.

“What happens if I die?” I ask, looking over at the flowers he’d brought me yesterday.

“I promise to find you in every lifetime”

[adaptacy]

A Found Flame {Pt.13}

Pairing: Mentor!Gale Dekarios x Apprentice!GN!Reader

(Previous Chapter) - (Next Chapter) ➔ (AO3)

Word Count: 4.6k

After nudging a small roll of bandages towards you, Tara lays down by your side, her chin resting on your thigh, tail swishing with a mix of irritation and concern. You accept the assistance, unrolling the bandages and beginning to wrap your neck, wincing at the uncomfortable stinging of the two small holes on the left of your throat. One of Tara’s paws lifts to lay on your thigh as well, and her head turns, scanning the area for fear of your attacker making a second attempt.

“We need to find Gale immediately. I don’t– Had I known the area would be so dangerous, I would’ve brought more protective clothing. I should’ve had the dagger with me. Gods, vampires… I never would have imagined I’d run into one. Let alone be attacked by one,” you sigh, bringing the strip of bandage to your teeth and biting into it, ripping the fabric and setting the roll back down, tucking the torn end into the wrap around your neck. Your hand runs over Tara’s head, petting her to show your appreciation. “Thank you. You probably saved my life.”

“The bastard needed a good clawing. Ought to teach him a lesson, make him think twice before attacking innocents in the woods! What a fool. I hope I gifted him a scar or two,” she hisses, tail thrashing and puffing up as she recalls her defense of you. Then she settles, her ears pressing back against her head as she looks up at you, then visually inspects your bandaged neck. “Are you alright?”

“I will be. He didn’t take much blood, thanks to you. It stings, but it’ll heal in time,” you reply, your thumb brushing her head once more before you return the bandage to your adventuring pack, scooting it closer to yourself so that you have a better chance of retrieving your dagger should anything, vampires or otherwise, choose to strike. “You said Gale should be somewhere nearby, right?”

“Indeed. Fortunately for us, he’s not the quickest-moving adventurer to roam, so we have a good chance of catching up to him rather quickly, so long as we are precise and efficient in our hunt,” she replies, backing off of your leg as you lay back down on your bedroll, pulling the thin blanket you’d packed over your body. Tara spins in a circle a few times next to you, her paws kneading at the grass before she eventually lays down, curled up with the tip of her tail resting near her face, her back against your side. “I’ll stay awake for a little while longer to ensure no pasty beasts pose you any threat.”

“Aren’t you tired?” You ask, looking over at her as her gaze continues to flick around the trees, seeing far better in the dark forest shadows than you ever could. 

“Very much so. Alas, Mr. Dekarios would surely dismiss me if I let his darling apprentice be harmed in such a way. And Mr. Dekarios most certainly could not survive without me. It’s a miracle he’s made it this far,” she chuckles, her wings twitching at the thought of upsetting him. “He cares quite deeply for you, dear.”

You roll your eyes with a dismissive scoff, looking up at the starryscape above you, her words being just thought-provoking enough to draw you away from registering the subtle pain in your neck. “With only two companions to care for, it’s hardly surprising that I get a hefty portion. Compared to someone with a… larger social circle, that is.”

Tara’s wing thumps against your side as a scolding, and she huffs, rumbling out a subtle growl of disapproval. “Oh, hush. You and I both know his affections run deeper than that. He sees you as more than a mere companion,” she argues. “He’s very fond of you. Gods know he’d never admit it to himself. But a tressym always knows.”

“He is?” You can’t help but ask, finding a small smile spreading over your mouth, as embarrassing as the sensation is. You don’t really see it, but Tara knows him better. Any interactions you’d had with him were perfectly innocent, and not romantic in the slightest. Just normal, unassuming conversations and whatnot. The sorts of discussions and time spent together that was completely expected from a mentor-apprentice relationship. 

Things like studying, and learning, and… stargazing. Errand-running, tidying, dozing off on his arm in front of a warm fire. Nothing that should arouse any sort of suspicion, or pining. Tara’s head nods, and she replies with a gentle “Oh, naturally. You ought to see the way he writes about you.”

Your head lifts at the expense of your comfort, eyes narrowed at the familiar. “He Writes about me?” You question, mind immediately drifting to that gods forsaken book you’d read in his room, a subject you still aren’t entirely sure of your opinion on. 

“Yes, in letters to his mother. He speaks so highly of you, mighty proud of your progress. Both as his apprentice and as his friend,” she clarifies, allowing you to breathe a quiet huff of relief. “I must ask, dear, is the fondness mutual?”

“I respect him a lot, as my mentor, and just… as such an accomplished wizard,” you praise, but Tara eyes you closely, urging you to answer more directly. You lay back down, looking up at the stars for guidance once more. “I think what we have is nice. I don’t want to lose that.”

“Fools, the both of you,” she scolds.

“Tara…” You groan, closing your eyes to try and steady yourself, not entirely understanding why she’s being so insistent. 

“No, no, I understand. Truly, I do. Mr. Dekarios fears his own mortality too intensely to dabble in his feelings. You fear his rejection. Both of you fear losing one another. Mr. Dekarios runs from any reminder of his all-too-mortal body, emotions included. And you, dear, run from the threat of change,” she elaborates, her tone entirely self-assured, as if she knows you better than you know yourself.

It irritates you. With a frown, you pinch the bridge of your nose and turn onto your side, your back to her. “Gale has been perfectly clear in his disinterest in romantics. And don’t act like you understand my fears – or even understand me. You hardly know me, Tara.”

“Ah, but a tressym always knows. Do as you please. Keep running. When your paws ache and your lungs are empty, it will be Mr. Dekarios who catches you. And then we shall see just what you were running from,” she tuts, her confidence still irking you, but you stay quiet this time. You need rest, so you figure it’s easier if you let her get away with her unreasonable fantasies. Entirely unreasonable.

–   –   –

Waking up granted him one, all-consuming, far-too-powerful feeling; Pain.

Pain in his legs, his arms, his gut, and most uncomfortably, his head. Soreness from the exercise of the past few days had truly taken its toll on his muscles, and last night’s celebration served a hellish punishment on the parts of his body not already burdened by the exhaustion. He’d had the strangest of dreams last night; visited by some otherworldly spirit, the exact details a blur he hadn’t yet recalled, humming a tale about something-or-other concerning the parasite, but frankly he’d been far too drunk when he’d gone to bed, and he struggled to grasp the particulars. 

That’s likely all it was – side-effects of his state mixed with his stress, granting him strange visions to join his raging headache. A hangover most unpleasant. 

It seemed the consensus was the same for everyone else in camp. Lae’zel hadn’t indulged much, or perhaps had a complete immunity to the effects of a morning after drinking, but the other two bore their own wine-induced scars. 

Astarion more literally than Shadowheart, oddly enough. Shadowheart knelt by the river, fighting off her nausea in the only way she knew how – throwing up last night’s regrets, and Gale would probably join her quite soon, but he was a little more intrigued by the strange scratches spanning over Astarion’s nose and cheeks. 

“Encounter a feral cat in your sleep?” He asks, and Astarion gives a quick, unhappy glare towards the wizard, but he’s far from threatened by him. 

“Took a walk last night. I’m not the most nimble drunkard – tripped over an inconveniently-placed log, where a patch of bramble awaited me,” Astarion replies, tapping his fingers to the dried cuts, checking for any leaking blood. “Merely an unpleasant coincidence, darling. We have larger things to worry about.” He motions with his head towards Halsin, who’s standing a few yards away, buckling the leather straps on his large upper arms.

“Do those serve any real purpose?” Gale wonders aloud, and Astarion chuckles, shaking his head.

“Doubtful. I expect they’re just for looks. As if those muscles weren’t distracting enough,” he teases in return. Gale cracks a small smile, bringing himself to his feet and running a hand through his hair, doing his best to neaten it, even if the change is quite minor. Once he’s vertical, he feels the lingering wine bubble up in his throat, and quickly excuses himself, rushing to join Shadowheart in her purge.

After a few minutes, once they’re positive that they’re ready to proceed, Gale reaches out a hand and helps the cleric to her feet, granting her a reassuring smile. Shadowheart dips her head in appreciation, straightening her headpiece and clearing her throat, deciding to make small talk. “Next time we host, we ought to have someone guarding the reserves. Had anything happened last night, none of us would have been in a proper enough state for defense.”

“Couldn’t agree more. Though Lae’zel seemed well-off enough,” he replies, looking over at where the Githyanki puts on the heavier pieces of her armor, wiping them free of any dirt. 

Shadowheart scoffs quietly, raising an eyebrow at Gale. “I’d sooner label her the very enemy we need defense from, than to imply she’d be the defender. I’m rather surprised none of us found ourselves with a dagger to our throats in the middle of the night. Hesitate when trusting her, Gale. She’s yet to show her true colors,” Shadowheart hums, her defensive pride showing through in her tone, and Gale replies with a frown. 

“She hasn’t tried to kill us yet. So long as these parasites are in our heads, I take it she’s on our side. She’s a solid warrior, and one we are lucky to have fighting for us,” he attempts to defend, but Shadowheart isn’t so quick to agree. 

“I fear it’s the parasites that make us her enemy. Githyanki aren’t prone to very efficient logical reasoning. They have a sworn rival, and as long as we have these mind flayer spawn with us, we are but an incubating version of those very rivals. Just don’t be too surprised if she decides to attack someday soon.” She, too, looks over at Lae’zel now, her expression one of hardly-muted disgust. 

“I assume you’re not too keen on seeking out the crèche she speaks of, then?” Gale hums, taking a few steps back towards the unlit campfire. He spots Astarion talking to Halsin as the druid checks over his own armor. 

“I’m desperate enough for a cure that I’m willing to try our hand at any possibility. Do I trust that we’ll be saved there? Hardly. More likely, our heads will be stuffed onto spikes for a gruesome display. But our selection of options are thinning by the day, so I don’t see much other choice than to make an attempt,” she responds, taking an extra second before she follows Gale’s steps, her focus still mostly on the githyanki she spoke of. “I suppose you have… some kind of a point. For all of her flaws, she is quite efficient in battle.” 

Gale chuckles, nudging the half-elf with a certain playfulness in his movements. “Ah, see? You’re warming up to her. I’m sure the two of you will be gossiping over tea before long,” he teases. 

Shadowheart’s eyebrows raise in disagreement, and she gives the slightest shake of her head. “Let’s… not get ahead of ourselves. I merely tolerate her. Nothing less, and most definitely nothing more.” She stops walking alongside him, motioning loosely towards her tent. “Pleasure… purging with you, Gale. I’m going to excuse myself before I get distracted. I’m sure the journey today will leave room for plenty more small talk.”

“We shall see,” he agrees, dipping his head as she turns and heads back to her tent to prepare for whatever the day may bring. Gale contemplates returning to his own tent to dress in more battle-ready clothing, but he notices a sudden flash of concern over Halsin’s face, and decides to investigate. 

“Oh, you caught me,” Astarion concedes, his tone a little too dramatic to be genuine, but Halsin seems too worried to notice. “The truth is a little less kind to my reputation. I don’t remember specifics, exactly, just that I somehow found myself facing off against a rather angry red squirrel,” he sighs, keeping his voice barely above a whisper, as if attempting to keep the conversation private.

“Ah, worry not about your reputation, Astarion. Nature sees the best and worst of us. It’s no surprise – some creatures are quite territorial around these parts. Especially with the approaching mating season. I won’t judge your drunken quarrel with a squirrel,” Halsin comforts, and Astarion seems a little confused for a moment, especially as Halsin places a hand on his shoulder, but he eventually snaps out of it.

“I was hoping you could repair what damage those little claws dealt. Not much one for battle scars. More your style – and well-so. If it isn’t too much trouble, of course…” The pale elf puts up a mock pout, and Gale smiles to himself, deciding the conversation no longer warrants his eavesdropping. As he turns his aim back to his own tent, he hears Halsin murmuring a healing spell of some sort, obliging Astarion’s request. 

Gale steps inside of his tent, one that he purchased from a vendor at the grove, much like the rest of them did. It’s small, but adequate enough – and purple, no less. He’s not one to complain, especially not with the situation they’re in. Sifting through a small adventurer’s pack, he removes the purple robe he’d been wearing when the abduction occurred, and zips up the entrance as he changes. 

There’s no telling what the day holds in store for them. New companions, new battles, new discoveries galore – Gale doesn’t have a single clue. All he can do is hope they manage to take one step closer to a cure. 

–   –   –

“She looks… injured?” You whisper, narrowing your eyes at the blurry figure of a red, faintly humanoid-esque shape in the distance. You can’t see much, as you’re quite far back, but she seems to be hunched over, and you hear what sounds like pained groaning, but you’re not entirely sure. 

“And positively dangerous,” Tara hisses, her tail stiffened in the air as she pulls back, claws unsheathed and ready to strike. “You must be mad to think of approaching her!” 

“Tara, what if she’s seen Gale? We should investigate. Worst case scenario, we’ll just make a run for it. We should at least get a little closer,” you whisper, sneaking forward, seeing that the figure is on a small ledge across the river, a fallen log acting as a bridge between the side that you stood on now, and her side. 

“My– Has he taught you no self-preservation?!” Tara yowls, though she too keeps that yowl down to a whisper, and you hush her, earning a scoff of disbelief from the tressym. 

As you near her, you see that she is, indeed, slightly hunched over, with her arms folded over her abdomen. She’s a tiefling, which you could have assumed from the redness of her skin, though she only bears one, curved horn. The groans are certainly uncomfortable ones, but not quite pained – more so just burdened. Even as you near her, she’s too preoccupied to notice your approach. 

“I do believe the woman is on fire,” Tara remarks, though quickly silences herself as you take another step, now standing on the opposite end of the log from her.

“Are you okay?” You call out, and immediately her head lifts, locking eyes with you.

“Hells, not another one – Stay back!” She yells, and you furrow your brows, not understanding. You aren’t sure if it’s a warning or a threat that her words carry, and you’re not given a chance to decipher the exact connotation before her expression softens, immediately killing any fear of her. “Shit. You’re not one of them, are you?”

You step closer, much to the dismay of the tressym at your heel, who’s tail is now swishing back and forth with an ever-intensifying defensiveness. The woman takes a small step back, and you immediately take notice of flames carried on her shoulders. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that the flames were originating from her, but that’s surely impossible, right…? “Not one of who?” You ask, head tilting as you take yet another step, now standing on the log. 

“Those damned fake paladins,” she replies, groaning for a moment, and the flames around her intensify, as if sent from the hells themselves. Now that you’re even closer, it’s undeniable that the flames are originating from her – exactly how, you have no idea, but you know for a fact that your eyes don’t deceive you. “Careful, soldier, I’d keep your distance if I were you.”

“You’re on fire. Are you okay?” You ask again, and the woman chuckles at your question, the flames seeming to calm down after a few moments. She stands up fully, and whatever intimidation had faded comes back, albeit much gentler, but it returns nonetheless. She’s tall, and decidedly strong, if her build is anything to judge by. Yet, despite her intimidation factor, you don’t quite fear her. She smiles, a nervous one but still somehow optimistic, and it… somehow eases you. Maybe by means of magic? You’re not sure.

“I’ll be alright. Just got a little heated. The name’s Karlach. Well met, soldier,” she introduces and holds out a hand, though near-instantly retracts it and shakes that hand at her side, extinguishing the few flames lingering on her palm. Her attention shifts to Tara, and her grin widens, eyes following suit. Karlach places her palms on her knees and squats down, giggling at Tara as she bares her teeth and hisses again, clearly still not a fan. “Hey, kitty, kitty! Aren’t you a cute lil’ thing?”

You look down at Tara as well, watching as she inspects the woman again, backing up and taking shelter behind your ankles, suspicious of her intentions. “Nice to meet you, Karlach. This is Tara… Sorry, she’s, uh…” You glance around, and then chuckle awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. “Not used to being out in the wild. More of an indoor cat– ow!” You grumble as Tara’s wing roughly smacks against your leg, and you’re quick to correct yourself; “An indoor tressym, sorry.”

“Gods, she’s adorable! Never seen a cat with wings before,” she remarks, standing up once more, and Tara hisses her complaints. “Oh, right, uh– What’d you call her? Testin’? Tressym?” She corrects, and then raises a finger and waves it, her wide grin returning. “Hold it! I’ve got just the thing,” she giggles, her playfulness throwing you for a bit of a loop. You wouldn’t have expected such a friendly attitude on a woman as objectively scary as her. Karlach turns around and reaches into a leather pack, pulling out a long, silver-scaled fish and tossing it onto the bank behind you. 

Tara’s eyes follow it with striking accuracy, and you notice a few dark dots littering the upper half of the fish, a mark typical of salmon. There’s no more than 4 seconds between the fish landing and Tara nearly pouncing on it, sniffing and pawing at the limp prey as if she were no less distinguished than a common housecat. You chuckle at the sight before returning your attention to Karlach, who begins cracking her knuckles as if preparing for a fight. You seriously hope she doesn’t mean to fight you. 

“You asked if I was one of those ‘fake paladins’,” you remind, stepping a little closer and assuming a more casual stance, hoping to put her off of the idea of fighting you, if she had any plans to. “Who were you talking about?”

Karlach groans, stretching her interlocked arms above her head and rolling her shoulders. “Ugh. It’s a long story, scout, so I’ll save you the borin’ bits. Important part is, a bunch’a evil bastards are on my tail – hunting little ol’ me all the way from the hells,” she scowls, her shoulders dropping, and now you notice a red tail behind her, typical of tieflings, that sways in irritation. “Now, before you assume wrong, I should probably clarify that I’m not some escaped devil, or, like, some evil that they’re trying to drag back down to Avernus for good reason. Nah, it’s this bitch named Zariel sending her attack dogs after me ‘cause I hitched a ride on a nautiloid ship and got out of her enslavement,” she boasts, placing her hands on her hips and nodding. 

Nautiloid – the word sounds familiar. Very, very faintly familiar, and you try to recall where you’ve heard it before. It only takes a second before you instantly remember mention of nautiloid ships piloted by mind flayers in a book about, well, mind flayers. The ships were capable of jumping between astral planes and posed quite the threat, but had become the stuff of legends in Faerûn, at least until one crashed somewhere in the Dalelands, but you don’t remember the specifics of that event. 

So… either this woman was completely insane, lying to your face, or somehow, against all realms of possibility, had been kidnapped by mind flayers and dropped somewhere in Faerûn, all the way from Avernus. You weren’t particularly eager for any of those options to be true. 

Shaking your head with a small scoff, you decide to question her further; “Sorry – a nautiloid? How did you… escape it? Or survive it? What happened to it?” 

Karlach laughs, pointing finger-guns at you. “Aw, you’re a funny one!” She jokes, and though it takes her a few seconds, she seems to catch onto the fact that you’re being completely serious. “Oh, damn. You’re not joking? You been livin’ under a rock? Yeah, no, it was a disaster, really. Whole thing just crashed and burned. Like, literally. Pshewf.” Her hands meet in front of her chest and then explode in a mock explosion as she imitates the noise, following the description with a hearty chuckle. “Not a whole lotta survivors. Surprised it didn’t shake the earth enough to make the mountains fall. You really didn’t know?” 

“I’m… not from around here. How long ago was this?” You can’t help but let your curiosity get the best of you. Even if it probably isn’t connected to whatever might be happening with Gale, you figure it’s best to explore any chance you have of following clues back to him, or solve whatever puzzle you’ve been tasked with piecing together in his wake. And, to be fair, this does seem like a pretty major event. 

“Couple days ago. Like, ten, maybe? Dunno, not the best with time… Man, you picked a reaaaal bad time to take a vacation. Hate to be the one to spoil it, scout,” Karlach hisses through her teeth, cringing at her guilt. She then leans in towards you, a slight frown on her face. “Listen, I don’t wanna overwhelm you or anything, I’m sure this is a lot to take in, but those assholes are on my tail, and it’s only a matter of time before they find me coolin’ off down here. I’d be more than happy to answer any questions you have, but I need you to do me a favor n’ help me throw the yappers off my scent. Or… keep ‘em from smellin’ ever again, if you catch my drift.” She giggles with a sense of mischief, and you can’t help but trust her. Maybe it’s foolish to, but she seems genuine – and she seemed to trust you pretty easily, which makes you doubt that she’d be lying about such a thing. 

“I’m… not really built for fighting anyone off. Not sure I’d be of much help,” you confess, raising your shoulders in an attempt to display your apologies. “I’m not familiar with the area – like, at all – but I’m happy to try and help you escape them.”

Karlach thinks over the offer for a moment, and she looks a little disappointed that she won’t have your assistance in battle, but she ultimately nods and gives you a thumbs up. “I appreciate it – means a lot that you’re willing to help me. I wish everyone around here was as accepting as you. It’s been a while since I’ve been on the surface, so I’m afraid I’m probably not the person to ask for directions. But, hey–!” Karlach grins again, the optimism behind the expression noticeably contagious. “Would much rather be clueless together, yeah? Figure it out as we go, and all that.”

You feel a presence at your feet once more, and Tara sits on the log, eyes slightly narrowed at Karlach, but she’s no longer anywhere near defensive. The reason why is quickly explained when you notice that Karlach’s peace offering to her is nothing more than a frail, fish-shaped skeleton now. “Actually, I’m here because I’m looking for a… friend of mine. His name is Gale – he’s human, middle-aged, shoulder-length brown hair, likes to make cheesy book references…?” 

She looks off to the right for a moment, a finger pressed to her chin, but soon she shakes her head, shrugging. “Not ringin’ any bells. Sorry, scout. I’m happy to help you look for him though, once we’re well off-and-away from those paladin-posin’ asses.” Karlach glances down at Tara, and she leans down again. “And before you go thinkin’ I forgot about you, I promise I’ll pay my weight in fish. Wouldn’t risk gettin’ on your bad side, kitty,” she teases, and you think about telling her that Tara is way more conscious of what’s happening than Karlach seems to think, but Tara has yet to say anything, so you refrain from breaking the illusion for the time being. 

“We should get going, then. I don’t want to risk running into these hunters of yours,” you advise, and Karlach stands up again, stretching once more before grabbing her backpack and a bedroll, approaching you where you stand on the log.

“Yup, I gotcha. Any danger comes our way, just stick close to Mama K, alright?” She hums, almost singing the rhyme before laughing to herself, and you chuckle as well, nodding in agreement. 

You definitely weren’t expecting to find a second companion before you found Gale, but Karlach seems more than valuable in battle, and you’re certain that she’s a way better protector than your dagger could ever be, so you’re not complaining. Not that Tara isn’t also a fine defender, but should anything stronger than a cowardly vampire pick a fight with you, you doubt that Tara would be able to do all of the heavy lifting. Definitely not the kind of heavy lifting Karlach seems like she would be capable of. 

So, the three of you set off back the way you came, hoping to find safety – and, ideally, answers – as quickly as possible, and preferably without having to fight for either of them. 

[atinytokki]

Mechanosis

Chapter 1: 구름 (cloud)

구름

cloud

The future looked different through a cracked glass pane. Only two people in the entirety of Gyeongseong Station knew there was a crack on the inside pane of the seven metre clock face that adorned the iconic tower, and Hongjoong was one of them.

He spent most nights alone with a view of the city far below, twinkling lights almost seeming magical through the blanket of haze that coated everything east of Incheon. And most nights, he knew better than to dream.

The past, too, had a strange new colour streaked across it, and the filter of glass clock face windows, like thin hanji mulberry paper, revealed things Hongjoong hadn’t seen five years ago. Things he couldn’t have known.

Accompanied by the constant whirring and clicking of gears, he watched rain trail down the glass with his single working eye, following a drop and tracing it with his finger until it slid off the clock face and out of view.

He had put his tinkering away an hour ago, but too many things were keeping him awake. The constant thoughts, plans, and anxiety. The rain. San’s coughing.

The pair of them worked sunrise to sunset in the Namsan metal factory every day, retreating for the night to their secret hideaway in the clock tower, and these late hours were the only moments he could steal for himself.

If Hongjoong turned to look out the eastern facing windows in the tower, he’d see the factory there; carved into the side of the mountain and constantly belching a steady stream of smoke into the surrounding forest.

It was good money— as good as pay could be these days— but it was also the culprit of San’s cough. Both of them knew it.

For now, it was mercifully raining. In a matter of weeks, it would be snowing. And when the snows came, their days would be difficult again. San always grew sicker when winter arrived.

Five years ago, Hongjoong would’ve looked forward to the snow, and the way it gathered on bare tree branches outside in his courtyard in perfect little snow walls that stood upright until he ran a mittened hand across their surface and knocked them down. Now, the snow should be a gift— freedom from the curse of ash that had befallen Hanseong— but all it did was signal the upcoming darkness and the increased chance of death.

He closed his eyes, the burned right one with more difficulty, and inhaled deeply before his thoughts could spiral, pulling his legs close to his chest. The bottom edges of each pant leg of his baji were fraying, so he picked at them mindlessly and waited for exhaustion to set in.

A mumble sounded from the direction of the sleeping mats, set in the middle of the uppermost terrace with the best view below to catch any intruder who should attempt to sneak up the stairs.

San’s sleep-talking no doubt.

“Come to bed.”

Hongjoong turned his head to the left to see him. So, the younger man was coherent after all.

He was sitting up with the blanket draped over him, hair ruffled from tossing and turning.

Hongjoong hesitated and it brought a childish pout to San’s face.

“Please? I want to snuggle.”

Watching him bat his eyelashes, Hongjoong would never have guessed San had spent nearly all of his nineteen years growing up on the streets, wondering where the next meal would come from and inventing creative ways to get by on his own.

Even around a complete stranger, his softness and innocence had always remained.

Hongjoong remembered the day he met him, on a rainy night at Mount Inwang when he opened his single eye to see the ceiling of a shrine room.

A shaman had appeared above him weeks before and softly explained that he was the sole survivor of the fire, that he had been brought to the temple in secret to hide from the new authorities, that his eye was bandaged but would likely not heal, and that he was free to go where he pleased or remain in Suseongdong Valley if he wished.

The news had been beyond devastating. His entire life had burned down around him and he had no desire to go on. He had lost everything.

The shaman’s kindness never wavered, even when he would not rise from his mat on the floor to thank her. Others came and went, their shadows moving across the floor, turning like the sun through each long and lonely day. Sometimes the surrounding sleeping mats filled with other patients, more and more growing sickly as the chill of winter moved through the mountain peaks.

“I’ve brought you supper,” a voice broke into his spiralling thoughts that evening at the moment when the smell of samgyetang reached him. “You have a neighbour for tonight, his name is San.” It was one of the monks informing Hongjoong, as if he would care, and though he didn’t turn his head to see, the noise of a boy being guided to the mat next to his went on for a few minutes after.

Some time went by in silence. How much time, Hongjoong didn’t know, but night had fallen at least an hour ago and after dozing, he was hungry, despite himself.

Turning his head all the way to the right so he could see through his left eye, he was met with the shocked face of his neighbour, cheeks full of Hongjoong’s food.

“O-Oh!” The boy choked out, hurriedly swallowing and placing the bowl back on the floor. “I didn’t realise you were awake. Your eye bandage…”

When Hongjoong didn’t reply, the boy— San— shamelessly picked up the food again before hesitating.

“You weren’t planning on eating this, right?”

Taken aback, Hongjoong blinked a few times before shaking his head in agreement. It didn’t matter if his stomach was grumbling now, he had lost his chance.

“It’s good!” The boy exclaimed through another bite as he spooned the last vegetables into his mouth, much louder than he should be considering the late hour and the other sleeping patients. “Even though it’s cold.”

With that, he flashed a dimpled smile, downed the last of the broth and set the bowl back on the floor before standing from his bed and heading for the exit.

“Wh—” Hoarse from disuse, Hongjoong’s voice didn’t reach the patient, so he sat up and called more loudly, head spinning from the sudden adjustment, and tried to recall the name, “San? San!”

The mountain, who he met in the valley.

Surprised, the boy turned, bright eyes landing on Hongjoong’s form, and cocked his head to the side like a cat. “That’s me. What is it?”

“You…” Hongjoong sighed and cleared his throat, and San moved closer to hear what he had to say. “You’re leaving already? Are you even sick or did just you come for the food?”

At this observation, San smirked and gave a half shrug before continuing on his way.

Hongjoong didn’t see him again until two days later.

Again, the boy was given the sleeping mat next to his, and again he waited until Hongjoong drifted to sleep to eat both his own meal and the food designated for Hongjoong as if it belonged to him.

“Come on, you should eat some of this,” San tutted at him, the sound of him clicking his tongue just barely audible over the wind that whipped through Suseongdong. It was the seventh night now that he had appeared and helped himself to the shamans’ cooking, occasionally starting conversations that rarely went anywhere, as if determined to heal Hongjoong with his words even while he took his food every evening. “Look at you, you’re wasting away. Why do you refuse to eat? Do you think it will bring back whatever it is you lost?”

Biting his lip anxiously, Hongjoong merely shook his head.

He was still in mourning. And he had no appetite.

A growling stomach gave him away and, frustrated, he couldn’t stop a tear from escaping.

San noticed and placed down the bowl, regarding him seriously with no trace of his usual teasing.

“Would you like a hug?”

Sighing through his nose and squeezing his eye shut, Hongjoong tried to say no, but San was too fast and it only took a moment for him to be encased in his arms, squeezed gently but reassuringly, and then released again so the other boy could finish his kimchi.

It felt… nice.

And it was the sign he needed that life would go on, whether he wanted it to at the moment or not.

The season continued on, with snows blowing in from the west, and the mysterious boy continued his occasional visits.

Hongjoong always let him eat the second bowl or dip into to his banchan, because he knew San’s hunger must be severe for him to take food from another. He needed it more than Hongjoong did, when he could survive off of luncheon and this single meal was likely the only one of the day— or week— for San.

And, as expected, San always cleaned the plate.

The day he didn’t, Hongjoong knew something was wrong.

“You’re sick this time, aren’t you?” He whispered.

He didn’t lay on his back anymore, facing the patterned ceiling and letting tears wind down the sides of his cheeks. Instead, he faced San’s bed, watching him closely with his left eye.

San frowned from where he sat by Hongjoong’s mat, cross-legged.

“I do get sick, but this—”

Interrupted by his own cough, the harsh fit went on for a moment before he nodded, fully laying on his mat this time, turned in Hongjoong’s direction.

“This is worse than usual. I think it’s that factory they’re building next to my hideout.”

“Wh-What?” Hongjoong was surprised to hear those words. A factory so close to the city was strange, when most large mills were located in the countryside.

Unless…

“It’s this new steam-powered factory,” San explained slowly in his rasp, as if it was obvious and Hongjoong should’ve known despite not leaving the shrine in weeks. “They’re popping up all over Hanseong, burning ore to heat water and run the steam through this… machinery. That’s what they call it.”

Hongjoong’s head was reeling. It was as if the world had changed overnight. In a matter of weeks, things he had only seen on paper by candlelight existed. And they were multiplying.

“How?”

“A Mr. Shin is responsible, Minister of Technological Advancement he calls himself,” San sniffed in derision, not appearing to like the man, or at least what he knew of him. “The very night he was appointed, he had the plans set in motion, workers conscripted, and new authorities established. It’s all his design.”

“No, it isn’t.”

The words escaped Hongjoong so quickly, even he was surprised.

But it was true.

He had been there when the concept of steam-powered machinery was dreamt up in a crowded kitchen while the smoke trailed up to the sky on a starry summer’s night years ago. He knew whose design it was first scribbled on corners of worn parchment, ink staining the clothes and hands of the one who made it.

San was staring at him like he’d grown a second head, and patiently waiting for the right moment to ask a question he must have been meaning to ask for a long time.

“What’s your name?”

“Huh?”

“Your name,” San whispered urgently. “What is it? Who are you?”

He seemed sincere, and the cavernous pit of loneliness inside made Hongjoong yearn for companionship, but his name was all he had left now.

Could he really give it up so easily?

“I—” Hongjoong’s mouth ran dry. He simply needed to know San’s intentions first.

“I’ve decided I like you,” San supplied soon enough. “You’re kindhearted, and I want to keep you.”

Hongjoong furrowed his brows. “But I haven’t done anything.”

“Exactly,” San smiled sweetly but with some sadness under those innocent dimples. “You let me take without question. Most others would’ve accused me of stealing.”

So San had interpreted his indifference as kindness.

“You don’t want me,” Hongjoong shook his head, trying his best to sound sure of himself. “I have nothing else to give you.”

He knew he was about to give up the last thing he did have, he could feel himself losing the inner battle.

“I just want your name for now,” San assured him softly. “And then let me give you something for a change.”

He said it was just a name, but the truth was that it was so much more. What he had experienced and what San was experiencing were both tied up in that identity and to give it away would not help San. In fact, it may condemn him.

Eyes watering embarrassingly, the half-blinded boy squirmed in place before giving up.

“I’m Kim Hongjoong. I’m fifteen years old. I’m here because the Ministry of Technological Advancement set a fire two months ago that killed my parents and burned my eye. I know it was them because it was my family who created those designs— the ones for the machines— and now that the Ministry murdered the creators and stole the research, they perverted it. In a way, due to my inability to stop them, I am the one responsible for your sickness, San.” He paused to let the truth sink in.

Hongjoong could scarcely believe it himself, but this was the new world he’d woken up to.

“Are you sure you still want me?”

___

San had not hesitated even a moment, and from that day on, the two were brothers.

A tower was under construction at Gyeongseong Station, and quickly adorned with a massive clock face, run on the interlocking mechanism conceptualised by Hongjoong’s own mother and based on the tiny test models Hongjoong’s father had constructed himself.

It was San’s hiding place when he didn’t trek up the mountain to receive medicine at the shrine. He had always been a poor orphan for as long as he could remember, but the cost of living was unbearable now, and so he taught himself how to escape the notice of the station guards, and then taught Hongjoong in turn.

They lived there together now, five years later, and worked at the nearby factory begrudgingly, knowing there were very few options to get by, no matter how much former education Hongjoong had. Machinery was the way of the world now, and if they didn’t offer themselves up to be cogs in the machine, they’d end up playing that role one way or another.

Hongjoong had his habits, San admitted, such as getting in trouble at the factory for working too slowly and staying up late at night to tinker with the strange metal pieces he sourced from who knows where, but he was already dear to San. San’s heart had made the decision for him.

And he was never more sure of his decision than during times like these, when he lay coughing until blood came up in crimson specks on his handkerchief, and the pain in his chest kept him from sleeping.

Hongjoong acquiesced to San’s pleas for cuddles, and pulled the younger boy close with the hopes of lulling him to sleep. Instead, both lay awake for a while longer, unable to escape from the crossroads they knew they were approaching the sicker San became.

“The factory hurts you,” Hongjoong sighed into San’s hair.

San didn’t answer. Tears pricked at his eyes, watering from the force of his cough and partially from the frustration.

“I don’t want you to work there anymore,” Hongjoong told him softly. He’d said as much many times before, but both of them knew there was no turning away from the factory. Not in these times.

Again, San remained silent, shaking his head resolutely but remaining securely tucked in between Hongjoong’s arms.

“Please, San,” Hongjoong whined. San had never heard him beg like this before. “You’re scaring me.”

“Hyung, you—” a coughing fit interrupted him, and the force of his cough jolted them both. Hongjoong clung on anyway. “You know I can’t quit. It’s good money.”

“But you can find somewhere better to work,” Hongjoong insisted immediately, voice dripping with desperation. No matter how many times he thought it through, the situation was unbearable. “And if the money’s so good, I can pick up extra shifts instead since I won’t be busy nursing you back to health every winter.”

But it ended the way it always did. Ultimately, San persevered as he always had.

“No.” It came out harsher than he intended it to. “I’m going and there’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.”

Hongjoong went quiet for just long enough that San could tell he was angry.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, rubbing Hongjoong’s arm appreciatively. “Please, hyung, I really am. I love you.”

“Don’t say that.”

Hongjoong’s voice was softly admonishing.

A pout found San’s face again. “Why not?”

He used the words all the time, relishing in the opportunity to direct them at someone after all those years alone.

The silence stretched on between them and San tilted his head up to see tears in his hyung’s eye.

“You love too easily,” he finally answered, so quietly that San almost missed it.

He bristled at the accusation, regardless of how gently it had been delivered.

“But I mean it, Hongjoong,” San insisted, shifting to encourage the older boy to look at him. He spoke with as much conviction as he could despite the stabs of pain in his throat with every word he said. “I love you and I’m not leaving you. So you can’t leave me either.”

Hongjoong didn’t respond, but San knew he had heard him from the way he squeezed his eye shut. The right one was still covered in bandages. Whether he ever took them off to inspect the burned eye or not, San didn’t know.

San had seen from the beginning that Hongjoong didn’t think himself worthy of a second chance at family.

But family was the one thing San never had yet truly wanted. He needed to do everything in his power to secure a family for himself, one he truly loved regardless of their flaws.

“Did someone leave you behind?” He found himself conjecturing aloud. “Is that why…”

San’s words trailed off but his question hung in the air.

Hongjoong knew what he meant to ask.

Is that why you’re like this?

Another silence settled over them, not uncomfortable this time. San had tried and failed to wheedle the details out many times, but he understood the defences Hongjoong kept around his story.

He had the same walls around his own, no matter how talkative he could be about other things.

Finally, Hongjoong opened his mouth, closed it again, and then acquiesced and released a small key to the past.

“I had a brother.”

San stared at him for a moment, directly into his eye, before asking for clarification.

“Had?”

“He got out before the fire.”

San could feel Hongjoong’s shrug as it shifted their position on the floor mat. “I think my parents knew what was coming— there were whispers. They gave him the key to some of their designs and got him out of the country. I never saw him again. And it was all for naught, because the Ministry of Technological Advancement got hold of the plans anyway.”

Stunned, San worked through the information inside his own head for a moment.

“You think he’s alive?”

“I don’t know,” Hongjoong whispered. “I hope so… but he’s never returned for me. Perhaps he thinks I died in the fire, too.”

Suddenly it all made sense to San and he needed to gulp back tears at the memory it sparked inside him. He understood the fear of abandonment. He knew abandonment all too well.

“Leaving me before I leave you won’t make things any better,” San reminded him fiercely. They both knew that whether he said so or not, Hongjoong had grown attached.

That was what San was counting on.

“And besides, I’m not leaving you anyway.”

___

The wind that rustled bamboo leaves was colder than it had been last week.

Seonghwa could see the stalks swaying in the breeze from his table, and hurried to close the window and warm himself with some soybean jochi stew.

Most days, he got what he came to Ahopsan forest for; peace, quiet, and stillness.

But today the wind blew his wooden shutters open again and again, until he fetched his dopo and went outside to reinforce the latch.

The shadows on the surrounding forest floor came and went with the flickering light as it filtered through the canopy. Two layers of clouds blew quickly overhead, large puffy cumulus clouds with dark grey undersides, indicating a growing storm, and the wispy remnants of smog from Busan’s factories encroaching on his territory.

Its shape was always changing, morphing with every twist and turn as it was pushed onwards, pushed like the rest of Joseon when progress drove people away from their lives.

People like Seonghwa.

He had run as far as he was able, and still the smoke of the city chased him and interrupted his peace.

It wouldn’t be long before he needed to flee yet again.

Washing the dishes with a close watch on the sky, Seonghwa almost didn’t notice the footsteps leading up to his door.

Jolted from his reverie, he instinctively grabbed the crossbow by the entryway before bracing himself against the door, peeking through a gap in the paper cover to see who was calling in such a remote place at an hour like this.

“Hyung, it’s me,” Yeosang’s voice resonated deeply but with a light tone to it, and Seonghwa released his weapon and opened the door, shoulders still tense.

The two need not exchange words, and together they ventured into the main room and settled on the floor. Seonghwa poured his guest some tea and merely stared at his own, too anxious about the report he was waiting for to actually drink any.

“Will he get us out?”

Finally he couldn’t keep his anticipation inside anymore.

Yeosang snorted into his tea before composing himself and lowering the cup. “Seonghwa, I haven’t even spoken to him yet.”

“Right, right,” Seonghwa trailed off, wiping sweaty hands on his baji. “But you observed him these past few days?”

Yeosang rooted around in his bag for a moment before procuring a paper. “I drew this sketch when he visited the apothecary shop earlier in the week.”

Seonghwa took it promptly with both hands and gave the drawing a careful once over.

Jeong Yunho.

His cheekbones and nose were wide and striking, his mouth naturally rested in a smile, and his eyes were kind even if his face seemed tense. The clothes Yeosang had drawn him in were undoubtedly that of the yangban.

He was the son of Joseon’s foremost steam engine railway entrepreneur, and just so happened to do detective work.

Ever since he and Seonghwa had left their posts with the government, it was Yeosang’s job while he worked undercover in Hanseong to connect powerful people like Yunho to causes that weren’t exactly supported by the Ministry of Technological Advancement.

Seonghwa’s escape from Joseon was one of them.

The Jeong family were known supporters of the Ministry’s new order, but Yeosang was confident this Yunho would willingly help them if approached anyway.

“And there’s something else important,” Yeosang pulled his attention away from the illustration and related his latest report. “He came in again yesterday and brought another man with him. I recognised him from the festivals I’ve been tailing Yunho at. He’s one of the Jeong family servants— or, he was. He walks with Yunho-ssi now… as an equal.”

Seonghwa sat back slowly, deep in thought.

This was unprecedented.

That a rich nobleman would allow his servant the dress and status of a fellow noble wasn’t only unheard of, it was laughable. It was fantasy.

But if this Yunho diverged so sharply from his family’s views on servitude, there was a high chance he diverged from their views on the Ministry as well.

And that was the kind of person Seonghwa needed.

“How soon can you approach him?”

Yeosang went for another sip of tea while he thought things through.

“It wouldn’t be wise to arrange a meeting. He’s watched very closely by his father and the Ministry. Those moments in the apothecary shop are the only ones I have.”

“You must speak with him, Yeosang. If the smog has reached the forest, the machines won’t be far behind. We have to get out before they hunt us down.”

He knew he sounded desperate, but Seonghwa couldn’t help himself. If he relaxed, even for a moment, he could find himself trapped under the Ministry’s again, run over by the very steam-powered train engines he had planned and met with manufacturers for.

Biting his lip and avoiding Seonghwa’s eyes, Yeosang carefully voiced his reservations.

“Hyung, I don’t know.”

Seonghwa couldn’t help but frown. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

This was a matter of life and death, after all.

“I don’t think I should come with you,” Yeosang sighed, tension in his forehead and worry in his eyes. “There’s still work to be done here, others to help escape.”

The regret in his voice tugged at Seonghwa’s heartstrings.

He wasn’t attached, he told himself. No, he wasn’t bound to Yeosang despite fleeing the Ministry together and he wasn’t lonely in his tiny cabin while he waited for a boat ride away from this country.

But no matter how much he repeated it to himself, he knew in his heart that he couldn’t leave if Yeosang was staying.

“Oh.”

Suddenly his mouth was dry.

“Well, what do you think you’ll do here?”

An easy smile grew on Yeosang’s face, and Seonghwa found himself releasing his breath at the sight of it.

“I already see what’s happening throughout Hanseong from the apothecary shop,” he pointed out, chattering away like he only did when it was a subject he cared about immensely. “And it would be an excellent outpost to hide and then transport others who may be hunted by the new authorities for labor violations or association with the underground.”

“You’re saying… you want to become part of the underground yourself?” Seonghwa followed the logic to its natural conclusion.

Ever since the Ministry of Technological Advancement had absorbed the other main offices at the palace and instituted strict rules and insufferable working conditions, an underground network of rebellious citizens had quietly begun to form.

Seonghwa had heard whispers of them once or twice, but as far as he knew had never been involved with them.

They were a shadowy group with eyes everywhere, so it was difficult to know whether he’d encountered their members or not.

“Well,” Yeosang scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I don’t intend to join a revolution, but times are hard. So many people are barred from escaping. If I can make a difference in saving lives and making one less machine operate, I’ll gladly do so.”

Seonghwa found his eyes to be welling up and glanced away.

It wasn’t that he was sad to be sent away alone. It wasn’t even that he might be separating from a colleague he’d known since their university days. It was his pride in Yeosang, that he’d found a perfect way to serve a cause that was important to him, honestly to them both.

“Are you alright, hyung?” Yeosang sounded surprised, so Seonghwa wiped his eyes quickly and shot him a reassuring smile.

“Just happy for you,” the older admitted, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “You should consider joining me one day when it’s your turn to escape the Ministry. Any suspicious activity will put a sure target on your back, and you don’t want to end up in a factory.”

Seonghwa didn’t mean it lightly.

For years he had studied obliviously, thrilled to be a part of the technology team helping to bring Joseon to the future with better, more efficient steam-powered devices.

Until one day when he had witnessed the horror of the factories himself, had seen what his creations, untethered, could do to people.

Seonghwa bit back the memory and tasted blood on his tongue.

During his reminiscing, his colleague had packed his things and fetched his shoes.

“Yeosang, won’t you stay?” Seonghwa got to his feet suddenly, chiding himself mentally for being a bad host. “A storm is rolling in, I can bring your sleeping mats out—”

But the younger man simply shook his head with a smile and stepped outside, breathing in the slightly citrusy aroma of bamboo in late fall. It was as fresh as it had been the day he found this little hideaway and ushered Seonghwa into it.

“I hope one of these days you consider putting your skills to use,” Yeosang teased on the way out, his tone light but his words serious. “The people could use a Mechanist.”

___

A/N: Welcome to Mechanosis!! It was born from a prompt in 2022's platonic fic fest on ao3 and I'm planning on expanding and finishing it, so if you like the late Joseon period/steampunk pirate vibes or are intrigued by the story thus far, please do stick around and let me know what you think :) I may be slow to update considering my many other works and crazy schedule but hearing from readers always helps with motivation so don't forget to leave some in the comments/reblogs! 

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[theflyingfeeling]

Twenty-Fourth Day of Gift-Giving: Touches

Prompt: Tracing the other’s lips with their finger

The last one! Thank you SO much for reading, I hope this little project brought you some joy these past weeks 💝 And if you missed some posts or couldn't keep up with my daily posting schedule, worry not! None of the stories are particularly festive (except maybe Day 12), so you can read them any time. All the stories can be found in this tag, and I'm thinking of posting them on AO3 as well 🎁

~

As much as Aleksi hated early wake-up calls, this particular morning he hadn’t minded having to crawl out of bed at eight to take Rilla out; he had groaned when he had heard Rilla pawing the front door, but at least it offered Aleksi a chance to study Olli’s sleeping face before he’d wake up too. Although Aleksi’s eyelids still felt heavy and he probably would’ve fallen back to sleep in less than a minute if he had closed his eyes, the serenity on Olli’s face was far more captivating than anything Aleksi would ever see in his dreams.

Lone strands of curly hair had fallen on Olli’s eyes. Reluctant to wake the man up just yet, Aleksi defied the temptation to gently sweep it off. Maybe he also wanted to keep the slight worry on Olli’s face hidden so as to deceive himself into believing they’d have another full day together, the faint lines still visible on Olli’s forehead a reminder of their talks just before they had fallen asleep. Olli for one had not been able to conceal his grief about their parting when they had finally climbed to bed the previous night, and Aleksi had barely succeeded in kissing away his frown, troubled by the farewell to come just as much as Olli was. To know it would by no means be forever brought them some comfort at least; Aleksi was already looking forward to the video calls and the silly texts once Aleksi and Rilla would have settled down at home.

But it won’t be the same, Olli had said, and Aleksi knew that. There was little he could do about it, tough, little he could say to console Olli when he was hanging by a thin thread himself; one more look at Olli’s big, wet eyes and Aleksi would’ve been one phone call away from putting his Helsinki home up for sale, so he had seen it best to just kiss Olli again and tell him they’d figure it out, somehow.

They’d had to. They would. Aleksi was going to throw hands at the universe if they wouldn’t.

These thoughts from the night before consuming his mind, Aleksi had absentmindedly brought a finger to Olli’s lips and started tracing their shape. Over the past week, he had come to known them in every way he could think of, from having them move against his own or slide down his neck or close around his hard-on, so that it was now easy for him to retreat the memory of them, should he miss their softness and eagerness (and he would, no doubt, often and desperately, but it would be only one of the many things he’d be left craving for, once he’d be back in Helsinki). 

Aleksi didn’t realise Olli was awake until the lips under his finger curved into a faint smile. Seeing the reaction, he snuggled closer and brought his own lips to Olli’s ear. 

“Hi.” He left a soft kiss on Olli’s cheek and happily deepened it when Olli turned his head enough for Aleksi to catch his bottom lip in between his own. 

“Morning,” Olli replied. Other than that, he showed no intention to break off the kiss or to get out of bed any time soon, and Aleksi kissed him back as if he had nowhere to go that day either.

How he wished it was true. He wished it so much until a lump appeared in his throat.

“I think I’m gonna miss you too much,” he said into the kiss. It had been a long time coming, since the previous night at least, but he could no longer stop his eyes from welling with tears.

“Maybe you could get a refund for your tickets,” Olli said in turn, lips hungry for more kisses. “Tell them it’s an emergency and that you couldn’t possibly make it.”

Aleksi knew as well as Olli that wasn’t how it worked, but damn if Aleksi wasn’t ready to give it a try.

“What about my work? I have two production sessions scheduled for Monday alone.” It was impressive how they managed to hold an entire conversation in between all the desperate, hasty kisses that demanded to be given, as if their supply of kisses would overflow if they didn’t (it might, for all Aleksi knew, and he sure as well wasn’t going to risk it).

“Tell them you’re sorry.” [A kiss. Another. Another.] “Tell them you’re in bed with fever.” [A kiss. Another.] “Or just that you’re needed elsewhere.” [A quiet sob.] “Tell them… tell them I need you here.”

By then Aleksi was sniffing himself, but he wasn’t going to let any more hopeless sobs leave Olli’s mouth.

“Okay,” he said and kissed Olli until he stopped shedding tears (or maybe they just mixed with Aleksi’s own); until they both fell back to sleep.

~*~

I think I'm gonna miss you too much.

When Aleksi had said it, he really had meant every word, but five days after his return home, to his empty and sort of chilly apartment, he was pleased to have realised the longing had not consumed him completely during the week. Had his head been constantly absorbed in memories of his time with Olli, surviving all the Zoom meetings and email formalities would have likely been twice the uphill they were on a normal day. By all means, that was not to say Aleksi had not missed Olli; he had, incredibly so, especially when he climbed in his bed late at night and entertained himself with the idea of Olli being there waiting for him, possibly wiggling his eyebrows or just looking at him with an insane amount of affection in his eyes. Some days Aleksi wasn't sure if the sound that left his mouth whenever he thought about it resembled more a chuckle or a sob.

They had texted each other throughout the week, having (tearfully) agreed to give each other some space after the rather intense week they had had and decided they would, eventually, have time for sappy phonecalls (as well as for some spicy late-night FaceTime chats, Aleksi hoped). Come Friday, however, Aleksi dragged himself to his bedroom after another intense studio day and grabbed his phone.

"C'mere Rilla, let's ask how Olli's doing," he said to the dachshund, planting a kiss on her forehead as he helped her on the bed.

Aleksi closed his eyes while he waited for Olli to pick up the phone. He knew he had no reason to doubt if Olli would, but somehow he felt calmer listening to the dial tone like that.

"Hi," Olli's voice finally said. Its tone wrapped Aleksi in something warm and soft, like a blanket.

"Hi Olli."

"I was just thinking about you."

Aleksi slid down further on the bed, revelling in the warmth and softness of the voice on the other end of the line.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well that's funny," Aleksi said, although speaking wasn’t an easy task with how much his lips were quivering (from smiling, but maybe also from something else). "Because I was just thinking about you. Hence I called."

"Glad you did. It's good to hear your voice."

Aleksi closed his eyes again and wished he knew a way to tell Olli just how much he loved hearing his voice as well; how he had missed its calming melody in the mornings as well as all the more impatient whimpers in the evenings; how much more quiet his life had been before they had let each other into their lives like this.

Trying hard to maintain a casual tone, Aleksi recalled the events of the past week.

"How was your week?" Aleksi was thankful for Olli being the one to continue the conversation, seeing Aleksi himself was but a few more seconds of expectant silence from starting to ramble on about how even a salmon fillet at his local supermarket had brought a smile to his face the other day without him noticing until Niko had pointed it out.

"An okay week, I'd say, overall. You?"

On the other end of the line, Olli suddenly moaned tiredly, probably stretching himself. Aleksi bit his lip and wondered if the man did it on purpose, just to test him.

"'Twas alright. Helped out Mikko and the boys with some studio stuff."

"Sounds cool."

"And I did some laundry too."

"Okay?" Aleksi chuckled.

"Yeah. Noticed my favourite grey hoodie's gone. D'you remember seeing it? I think you were the one using it last time."

"Ummmm..." Aleksi glanced down at himself, his grin widening. "I might be wearing it right now."

"Ha! I knew it!"

"I'm outraged, Aleksi," Olli sniffed, as if offended by this heartless betrayal. "Guess I'm gonna have to come down there to get it back."

"Yeah, I don't know, it must have ended up in my suitcase by accident." Cheeks full from the smile stuck on his lips, he put a hand inside the front pocket of said hoodie and snuggled to himself.

(If he did it just to imagine it was Olli cuddling up to him instead, who could've judged him for it?)

"Uh-huh? Guess you gotta."

Aleksi contemplated keeping any lovesick pleas to himself, until he remembered he'd no longer have to keep his heart so closed and protected.

Not from Olli.

"Like... I know you're away from home a lot during the year as it is, but... I always like it so much when you're here and I hope that... maybe this could be 'home' as well. One day."

The more seconds that passed waiting for Olli's reply, the more restless Aleksi grew under his blanket, almost shivering despite being tucked up to almost his chin.

"Yeah. I think it could be. One day," Olli said at last, his voice just barely louder than a whisper. "In fact... I quite like the sound of that."

Aleksi was prepared for a 'but' which never came. Instead, Olli dropped his next bomb, just in time for Aleksi to have blinked the tears from his eyes.

"So... what else are you wearing right now?"

[cloakedsparrow]

RE Headcanon: The Things They Left in Raccoon.

Chris left Raccoon City with the sole intention of gathering evidence against Umbrella. He’d packed discreet clothing that wouldn’t draw attention to him rather than his custom embroidered leather jacket or the vests and t-shirts he favored because they showed off his muscular arms. He’d packed practical items and left behind anything cumbersome, like family photo albums or his favorite guitar. He hadn’t thought much about what he was leaving behind because he’d expected to return home after a few weeks or so. He’d expected said belongs -along with his vinyl collection, expensive entertainment system, stuffed bookshelf, well-loved Jeep, and the afghan & potholders his grandmother had crocheted- to be waiting for him when he did. Instead, his entire apartment was destroyed along with the rest of Raccoon.

He’d had renter’s insurance and auto insurance, but it had been quite a hassle to get them to pay out…especially considering the <i>entire city</i> had been <i>wiped off the map</i>. Even then, some things couldn’t simply be replaced. Claire had a single album full of copies of some of their old family photos, but she’d lived in a small dorm-room. Most of what they had left of their parents and grandparents had been stored at Chris’ place. They’d lost it all along with Raccoon.

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

Jill made it out of Raccoon City with a few trusty guns, a brand new friend, and the clothes on her back. They weren’t even her good clothes or favorite clothes. Between coping with everything that had happened at Spencer Manor, being suspended, trying to subtly investigate their corrupted police chief, and then surviving the <i>goddamn citywide t-virus outbreak</i>, laundry hadn’t exactly been a priority. By the time she found herself fleeing from Nemesis, Jill was down to the mini-skirt and strapless top combo she wore out dancing, the designer little black dress her mother had given her as a graduation gift from the academy, or the bridesmaid dress she’d worn at her brother’s wedding. Had she known her apartment was going to be blown to vapor, she would’ve gone with the black dress.

As it was, she’d lost everything. She could probably get back most of the family photos from her family, at least, and things like her favorite DVDs and CDs could be replaced. However, some items had sentimental value that couldn’t be replaced. The souvenirs her parents has brought her from various vacations. Trinkets she’d gathered during her own travels. Photos of friends she’d lost touch with after moving to Raccoon City. Everything to remind her of that entire chapter of her life was just gone.

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

Leon’s family had been killed when he was young and the social worker assigned to grab some of his belongings while he was in the hospital hadn’t known him. She’d been considerate enough to grab the folding frame containing two family photos off his parents’ dresser, along with the book and stuffed dog that had been on his bed, to go with about a week’s worth of clothes. He’d been lucky enough to make it though foster care in one piece, his meager belongings had not. He hadn’t accumulated much afterwards, mostly practical items. He’d rented out an apartment in Raccoon City and dropped off his old, worn mattress and desk when he’d picked up his uniform and signed some final paperwork at the precinct. He later packed up everything else he owned in a couple boxes, stuck them in the back of his Jeep, and he drove to his new home.

He’d ended up abandoning his Jeep after his first ever BOW encounter, and both the Jeep and his mostly empty apartment had been destroyed along with Raccoon City. He’d only had liability insurance on the Jeep and no insurance whatsoever on the apartment. It sucked, but he’d had to start his life over with nothing before. He’d do it again.

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

Claire didn’t live in Raccoon, and the city had been barricaded off for a couple days before she arrived to check on Chris. Trying to convince her auto insurance agency that her motorcycle had been in the city when it was destroyed took <i>forever</i>. Especially since she hadn’t reported it until a couple months after the fact. Eventually, Leon -as a former RCPD officer with an official contract/schedule and a rental agreement to prove he’d been in the city- had to fill out some forms declaring he’d seen her and her bike in the city shortly before it was destroyed and that they’d fled the doomed city without it. Chris had offered to get her a new bike with his own insurance money, but she’d been determined to get her insurance to pay for it on principle by that point. Plus, he was technically jobless and homeless. He’d need the money more than she did.

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

Barry had gotten his family out of Raccoon with the belief that they wouldn’t be returning. They’d thought their house would still be there, but they’d still grabbed the essentials and then some. He’d gotten all their insurance forms and medical records. His wife had grabbed all the family photos and the little box of the girls’ artwork they’d kept over the years. His daughters had grabbed their favorite toys, books, and videos. They all packed their toiletries and enough clothes to last them a while.

It wasn’t everything, and he knew it would be a long while before the insurance paid out, but he didn’t care. He had his family. He had Chris and Jill. That was more than enough.

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

Rebecca had decided to go back to school and study virology after the Spencer Manor affair. She’d already left Raccoon City more than a month before it was destroyed. She’d moved back in with her parents temporarily. She had everything she owned. Everything she needed. Everything except for all the people she’d never see again.

[catboyfever]

Tea Time - Owlbit Fluff

WHOA YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHO'S BACK WITH A NEW WTP FIC

Pardon my absence as I've been committing to a lot of OC writing as of late. But I've been thinking about this ship and discussing it with others in the wtp fandom a LOT so I thought this would be as great a time as any to write a fanfic for it! I hope you enjoy, lemme know what y'all think!

The afternoon sun shone lazily on the Hundred Acre Wood. Rabbit ordinarily would’ve been outside tending to his garden in the heat of that sun, but even he had to take a break sometimes. While he could’ve been just as comfortable at home, he didn’t feel like just lounging about the house. The only person he could think of that would provide a somewhat peaceful evening was Owl. It was a no-brainer. He sometimes stopped by his house for tea anyhow, and spacing out while sipping tea and pretending to listen to some convoluted story actually sounded pretty fantastic just about now.

Rabbit was sat in his living room across from Owl with a saucer and a teacup filled with perfectly brewed tea in his hand. He’d already added his sugar, he was just listening to Owl go on about something before he took a sip. The warm, dark flavor of the black tea relaxed him… but he felt like he wanted just a little more something to flavor the drink.

“Owl, I don’t mean to bother but could you bring out some honey? I’d love some for my tea.” Rabbit said.

Owl smiled and halted his story. “Oh, of course! I’ll resume my tale once I’m back.”

Owl flew out of the living room and swooped into the kitchen to retrieve the honey. A few seconds later Rabbit heard a thundering crash and jumped to his feet to investigate before a very excited looking Owl brought back an in-tact honey jar, but more surprisingly, an accordion.

“Owl, what IS that?” Rabbit asked, pointing at the unknown instrument.

“This, my dear friend, is called an ‘accordion’” Owl said. “It’s a wonderful instrument, my relative in Italy gave it to me years ago.”

“Do you play?” Rabbit asked pointedly.

“But of course! Here,” Owl began, setting the jar of honey down for Rabbit. “enjoy your tea and the music.”

Rabbit felt excitement bubble up in his belly. He usually knew better than to get his hopes up too high about things like this with his friends, but there just seemed to be something so genuine about the way Owl spoke about the instrument. Besides, Rabbit hadn’t even known what it was called before Owl told him.

“This song I learned from my Great Great Granduncle, he used to play it while taking a leisurely boat ride.” Owl said.

Owl’s feathery hands moved across the keys on the instrument as he pushed it in and pulled in a slow, jaunty song. The unique sound that the instrument produced had Rabbit totally transfixed… as well as how oddly suave Owl looked playing it.

His hands were moving with such grace and the way his body swayed to the beat of the song just took his breath away. His eyes were moving with Owl as he swayed across the room, coming closer to Rabbit before dancing away while continuing the slow, romantic melody that Rabbit was enchanted by. When the song ended Owl bowed while Rabbit clapped fervently.

“Stupendous! Absolutely marvelous! I had no idea you were such a musician!” Rabbit said.

“But of course I am! I wasn’t only gifted with a beautiful singing voice, I’m an owl of many talents you know!” Owl said proudly.

Ordinarily Rabbit would’ve scoffed at the notion but the way Owl spoke… especially after his performance… Rabbit actually felt a sort of reverence for Owl for the first time.

“I know this might be sudden but… would you be able to teach me a few notes?” Rabbit asked.

Owl nodded enthusiastically. “Of course of course! I’d be happy to aide in someone’s quest for knowledge!!”

Owl handed Rabbit the surprisingly heavy accordion and stood behind him. Rabbit’s cheeks flushed as he felt the bird’s soft, warm hands covering his as his fingers touched the keys. Owl even helped push and pull the accordion at first, guiding Rabbit’s arms by pushing them and pulling them with his hands. Rabbit could feel the soft as a cloud feathers of Owl's crest pressing against the back of his head which distracted him greatly as he tried to concentrate on what was happening. Eventually though, Rabbit got the hang of how the instrument operated. Owl danced around the room as he had before, but this time he guided Rabbit along with him, swaying along with him as Rabbit practiced the intro to the song Owl had just played for him.

After a while the sun began to set and Rabbit reluctantly put a stop to their music lesson.

“It really is no trouble if you stay for dinner, you know.” Owl said insistently.

“I appreciate it really, but I must get back and get things ready for tomorrow. You know how it goes, the work is never done around the garden!” Rabbit said.

Owl opened the door and saw Rabbit out. Rabbit turned to Owl with a smile.

“Goodnight, Owl.”

Owl leaned forward and quickly gave a small love peck to Rabbit’s cheek. “Goodnight, Rabbit.”

Owl withdrew to his house and closed the door leaving Rabbit a flustered mess at his door. Rabbit dashed back to his house and sighed as he began to fix his supplies to make dinner. The accordion was from Italy, he was probably just saying farewell like they do! It was just his way of saying Ciao! That was what Rabbit convinced himself as he continued to fix dinner, trying desperately but failing to get the kiss out of his head.

[foxboyclit]

a new creature

a transition story, featuring Iphis. TW for body horror

Iphis followed Minisstra through the winding corridors to the chapel attached to her estate. The main area was emptied and open as ever; with its seats and collection plates and large stained glass depictions of Lloth and Her greatest conquests, the vast emptiness of the room welcomed them like the mouth of a starved animal. But they weren’t here for prayer-those had fallen on deaf ears many a time before- the corner they turned led to the sect for a more direct audience with the gods.

This room was significantly more plain than the rest of the church, the candles perched on tall holders provided a utilitarian amount of lighting, the walls boasted no murals, and the large basin in the center was the only fixture that dared to call this home. Small shelves had been carved out of the stone of the far right wall, littered with jars of herbs, preserved fungi, and only priestesses knew what else.

Minisstra gestured to the basin, “strip and wait there, I have to prepare one last component.” she started for the mini apothecary before turning around, “you’ve brought it, I assume?”

He nodded, then stared down at the cold lump of muscle in his hand. The heart of Matron Kilth, sterile and still, heavy with all he could assume was the woman’s hatred for her third daughter. He wondered how it would’ve beat had it known she was the House’s last living member, and how tonight she would meet her in the afterlife.

Rabbit-hearted Nephila, one last name to cross off the list.

Minisstra had returned with a small bowl swirling with some kind of concoction, fragrant and dark in color and, surprisingly comforting. She held it to his lips, and he parted them for her as trained, downing the strange liquid as the summonings rolled off her tongue, echoing off the cavern walls-

Udos lar pholor Ilta Anke Zil, astha'cha d'jaluk ssin lu'cunning.

We call upon Her Eager Consort, pinnacle of male beauty and cunning.

Udos gultah natha Ilharess’s xukuth, wun has'tre, udos joros whol biu ashl'ah xuil Keptolo

We offer a Matron’s heart, in exchange, we ask for an audience with Keptolo.

She then turned her gaze to him, and with his hand in hers, led him to the bath. Iphis sank in, fought a shiver against the cold water, his mother’s heart pressed close against his sternum. He closed his eyes, willing himself the strength for this commune.

When he dared to open them, Iphis found himself not in the bowels of House Nydalla, but instead a cavern larger than the whole Underdark, strewn with massive webs that hung heavy with dread. They vibrated with a voice unheard but sent his bones rattling nonetheless.

And what do we have here?

Something tangled itself in his hair, snaked up to brush his cheek. A soft, ashen palm- cold, steel-hard chiton, he couldn’t discern. He looked up to meet the entity’s gaze, his own growing fuzzy and confused.

A tall, handsome drow male loomed over him, His two-four-six?-eight eyes drinking him in, and if a spider could smile at a moth hovering closer to its web, this was it.

Iphis knelt, begging his dizzied body to not betray him, and held out the heart.

So this is your offering. An impressive feat, for such a small thing to harvest a Matron’s heart. I’ll consider your request.

A hand reached down to accept the gift, and Iphis commanded his swimming mind to right itself; a task proven more difficult as it tried to comprehend the amount of limbs He sported.

“I want a new body,” he sputtered out, “I was not made to run a House, to be a priestess. My place is Nydalla’s shadow. Make me a male, and I will emulate every one of your tenants-I’ll strive to be a worthy disciple.”

The mass of webs twitched in what felt like amusement, a chuckle was the most Iphis could gather. Keptolo spoke again,

You wish to give up your standing as a female? To live in perpetual servitude, little more than Lady Nydalla’s plaything? Quite a humble female, or should I say, a desperate male?

You’ve intrigued me, lotha samcroi. I’ll indulge your desires.

Before he could process any excitement, the god’s nimble hands were set to work. Holding Iphis close by an arm, countless others expertly bound him in silk, starting with his arms, then torso, until he was wrapped head to toe. Iphis could only make out the shadow of Keptolo through the layers of web, but felt that charming smile in his bones.

For a brief moment, he had wondered if the transformation would be painful, but instead there was a lack of sensation in his limbs as they quickly began to dissolve. Flesh dripped from bone, until his frame was nothing more than liquid marrow. He watched as the liquid of his former body pooled underneath him, rising to devour him from the waist up-or was he sinking into the sickly broth?

It was the last thing he dared to look at before shutting his still-intact eyes. And when he opened them, he was in the bath once again, Minisstra standing over him.

Home.

He bolted upright, trembling like a web in the breeze, as Minisstra hurried to catch him, assuring he wouldn’t hurt himself.

“Easy, lince’sa, I’ve got you.” she held him there, palm resting over his fluttering heart, over the flat planes of his chest-wait.

He glanced down, ran his own hand over his collarbones and lower-sure enough, they were gone. His fingers traced the scars that formed under his pectorals- taking the shape of a spider web, and shivered at the sensitivity. His gaze met Minisstra’s.

“It-it worked”, he half-asked, voice hoarse and alien. She ran her fingers through his hair- seemingly much of that had been left behind too, for she stopped where it normally would cascade down his neck and shoulders.

“A part of me wonders what you bartered to become this handsome”, she said, the corners of her mouth curved into a delicate smile. “Let’s get you dried off and somewhere to view His work properly.”

He leaned against her as she slowly helped him out of the basin, not yet trusting the steadiness of his legs. Once he was confident in his balance, she dried and dressed him, her cool hands brushing against his remade self and setting every nerve alight.

“So this is my Iphis,” she looked up at him, eyes shining with a reverence he’d only seen applied to Lloth. “What a pleasure to finally meet you.”

He grinned, trying his voice again. “Had this not been so draining, I’d ask if you’d like a more intimate meeting.” Oh, how delicious this new voice sounded! Praise Lloth’s Trophy forever more.

Taking his hand, Minisstra led him back to her quarters. “I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunities to discover this body’s new skills, Ra’soltha.”