#Its the little break in Jokers voice when they have to leave her

[one-little-nerd-stayed-home]

Ok. Yeah. So basically the only other game that has ever made me get teary was Ghost of Tsushima

and I cant in good conscience say that Fucking Mass Effect 3 has it beat. but goddamn that fucking hurt.

[yall-batman-fanfic]

Wedding: Without Masks | Batman/Bruce Wayne x Magician!OC[Part 1/2]

Synopsis: When asked about their wedding, Bruce and Vivian would always return with another question. Which one? 

Marry me.

Vivian smiled as she remembered the moment he asked her. It wasn't a grand gesture nor was it planned at all. Rather, Bruce had a plan but emergencies arose which led them to the top of Wayne Tower, standing by their favorite gargoyle, both tired from an emergency made by Harley Quinn. No Joker, just Harley. Then in that peaceful moment, both of them overlooked Gotham trying to salvage their date that did not go their way that night with cupcakes and coffee, and their favorite pastime by that gargoyle.

Just as they were getting dressed again after a moment of love-making under the stars and snuggling under Batman's cape, something dropped from his utility belt. A red velvet box. An odd thing to keep in his person, but seeing the brand at the bottom, Vivian's heart skipped a beat.

“Bruce,” she called for him.

“I was looking for  that,” he mentioned to the belt, but he froze when he saw what she held. “Vivian.”

Slinging the belt over her shoulder, Vivian opened the box and was stunned to see the diamond ring inside. Looking up, Vivian met Bruce's blue eyes, not behind the cowl, but his face. She didn't even know tears were falling down her cheeks until he wiped them away.

“Marry me,” Batman said. Then he took the box from her, taking it out the ring, then got down on one knee and said again, “Marry me, Vivian.”

“Yes,” Vivian breathed out, then knelt down before Bruce to kiss him, and between kisses she said, “Yes. Si. Oui. Da. Sey. I od.”

Bruce wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply. He pulled her to him, until they fell to the ground with Vivian straddling his lap, still kissing him as tears fell down their eyes. “I love you, Pryor,” he kissed her again. “I love you, my Red Witch.”

Vivian chuckled and rested her forehead against him. “I love you, Bruce… Batman.”

Taking her hand, Bruce sat up, bringing her with him, and slipped the engagement ring onto her finger. Seeing her wearing it felt right, like all of the pieces were at place. This was the next step, this was where they were headed after all these years of pain, happiness, the adventures, and the family the little family they've made with Dick and Alfred. 

It was them both from the very beginning and to the end.

Batman and the Professor.

The Bat and the Witch.

Bruce and Vivian.

Pressing a kiss on her knuckles, Bruce then turned back to Vivian to pull her for another kiss, and another if it were not for Alfred breaking their moment in the comms.

“Master Bruce, I have received alerts about your heart rate going beyond its normal speed. Is everything alright?”

Vivian laughed as she heard the man's voice in the comms. Reaching for his gauntlet, she pressed on the button to unmute their comms, and say, “Everything's fine, Alfred.”

“Ms. Vivian! I apologize, I was not aware that you were… that you both were…” Alfred stumbled.

“It's fine, Alfred,” said. “And Alfred.”

“Yes, Master Bruce?”

Looking at Vivian with loving eyes, he said, “She said yes.”

A moment of silence came to the other line then Alfred said, “Congratulations, Master Bruce and Ms. Vivian.”

“Thank you, Alfred. We'll be home shortly,” said Vivian.

“Take your time… Penny-One out.”

When they got home, Bruce and Vivian found the Batcave empty, Alfred has gone to bed, Dick was snoring in his bedroom, leaving them in the privacy that they wanted. 

Back in their room, snuggling in their bed, Vivian happily welcomed the embrace from Bruce as he turned in their bed and pulled her to his arms. His hands found hers and he brushed his fingers over her own that had the ring. Vivian leaned down and kissed his fingers.

“I love you,” she whispered to him.

Bruce hummed in response and trailed kisses on her neck. His kisses were a little sloppy as he was still half-asleep, but he became fully awake when he felt her turn to face him to tell him something.

“I told myself if you weren't proposing soon, I was going to do it,” Vivian admitted. “I was already looking at rings, I even consulted with someone who could customize it.”

“Maybe I should have waited longer, I want to see what kind of proposal you’re going to do,” Bruce chuckled. “I bet it doesn’t involve our dinner getting disturbed by Harley Quinn.”

Vivian shrugged. “She was just having a bad day, don’t really have anything against her.”

“Good thing I had this made a long time ago.”

“When?” 

“A few months after you moved in. But really, I should have had this made long before that… maybe the day you took me back after I left you.” Right after she revealed she knew he was Batman. “Because I knew then that there was just you. That I wasn't going to let you go ever again.”

Vivian looked up to kiss him again. “Nothing is going to change between us, promise?”

“Promise. See it as just sealing the deal,” Bruce pulled her lay on his chest. “Dick even told us that we even act and fight like a married couple already. Might as well be one, right?” He joked.

“I guess you’re right,” she shrugged with a teasing grin.

“And the ring scares off those hitting on you in galas too.”

“Please, like you don’t have admirers, Wayne,” Vivian sat up, straddling his waist, and hovered over his face. Her hair acted as a veil that kept them from the world around them. Tonight it’s just them. “I’m lucky that a simple professor in GU caught the attention of Bruce Wayne.”

“No, I’m the lucky one. You’re the pretty one.”

“The people of Gotham would beg to differ,” she leaned down to kiss him and when she was to pull away, Bruce followed her, even if it meant sitting up just take her lips over and over. “So, how are you going to tell the world that Gotham’s remaining eligible bachelor is now one step away from tying the knot?” 

Bruce paused with his kisses and said, “I’ll let Dick handle the PR for that.”

“Really? You’re going to let him do it?”

“I don’t want to sell this story to any media. Let’s make it our announcement.”

“Through Dick.”

“Yeah, through Dick,” he kissed her again and pulled her body closer to his, making him hum when he felt her directly on his crotch. His hands roamed from her thigh to her waist and under her night-shirt where he caressed her skin. In one swift moment, he removed her shirt – wanting to feel her skin on his, nothing in between.

“I just realized something,” Vivian said in their kiss.

“Yes?”

“You didn't really ask me,” she pulled away. “You told me to marry you.”

“You said yes,” he smirked.

“Ask me, Bruce.”

Sighing, Bruce took her hand that had the ring asked, “Will you marry me, Vivian?”

“Yes,” Vivian replied and kissed him again. Laughter left their lips as Bruce turned them over with her beneath him, and he stationed himself between her legs. That morning, the only thing that left their lips were each other's names and the word “yes”.

~*~

Gotham’s many news outlets were on fire with what they saw online. How could they have missed that?! Bruce Wayne is the biggest celebrity in Gotham, he's practically royalty with his family history, so him proposing to his long-term and “non-royal” girlfriend was a huge deal that every rivaling media organization would race to have the story published. Instead, all of them just got the news during lunch from a social media post made by Wayne's ward, Dick Grayson.

It was a single post, a selfie made by the teenager with the Vivian hugging him from behind while showing the diamond engagement ring with the caption: She said yes… but not to me — I'm just the messenger, and in the background was Bruce who was busy with work. It was obviously done purposely by the boy and Vivian – rather, future Mrs. Wayne.

The post was going viral with comments, likes/hearts, and shares, and all the Gazette and the others could do was ride on that trend with articles that explain absolutely nothing but what they saw on the post and hope to get a scoop before the others could.

~*~

Following the announcement made by Dick, had numerous calls from friends, colleagues, and even the Justice League about the news. The couple had to put their phones in silent mode just to get through the day, but what they couldn't stop was a Kryptonian and Lois Lane appearing at their front yard to give their congratulations.

“I invested on a fifty-thousand dollar security around the manor and you just fly into my home,” Bruce muttered as Clark dropped by in his work clothes with Lois Lane in his arms. Lois immediately went to Vivian and tackled her to an embrace, and the two women were inside where she could get an exclusive interview – off the record for now – about everything that happened, how Bruce did it, what are their plans for the wedding, when is the wedding going to happen. 

“You better not put it when I'm off the country!” Lois told Vivian.

“Lois, I just got engaged!” Vivian laughed. “The ring hasn't even made an indent in my finger, at least let it sit there for a while. Gosh, is this a sneak peek on how my everyday life is going to be until the wedding?”

“Honey, this isn't even close to that.”

“I can't believe I had to find out about this through Dick's social media,” Clark told him. 

“I'm surprised you didn't come over the moment I asked the question,” Bruce mocked him.

“Knowing you and Viv, I tend to drown myself out of Gotham's direction. Don't need to know everything that's happening to you both.”

Bruce chuckled. 

“So, was Dick posting it part of the plan too?”

“Thought it would be best if the news came to us. What I didn't think he'll do is make a stolen shot of me with Vivian then doing it like that.”

“Hey! It's going viral, you should thank me!” Dick told Bruce. “And now my phone is ringing nonstop.”

“All of our phones are ringing,” Alfred spoke as he brought them tea. “I had to disconnect the line of two of our phones just to get some peace and quiet in here. Also, please expect many emails and calls from wedding planners in the coming days. I just received a call earlier who promises to make this a wedding of the century.”

“That's a big promise to make,” said Bruce, amused with the chaos that a single post made. 

The following day, as they returned to their normal lives and work, Vivian was met by a mob of reporters trying to get a a scoop from her about the proposal. With the help of Gotham University's security, she was able to get in and work in peace. Well, peaceful as it could get. Inside, she also had people asking her all about the proposal and when they plan to get married. Students, her colleagues. She even had to resort to saying: “If we get through class without anyone asking about the you-know-what, you'll get extra credit,” to her class just so they could finish a lecture.

Bruce was no better in Wayne Enterprise too, but unlike Vivian he can easily get everything in order. He is the big boss after all. But he understood the situation Vivian had to face, especially after seeing it with his own eyes when he went to pick her up from work. She was being chased by the press just to get an interview, Bruce had to intervene and lead Vivian to his car. So he did what he thought would finally put an end to this which involved making some calls with a close friend who was more than willing to cover the story.

Vreeland Conglomerate owns a list of companies, and one of the list of companies under their belt was one of Gotham's most bought lifestyle magazine. Veronica was currently the director of the company and when Bruce called her about the plan she said, “Firstly, I hate you for not telling me about this; second, you just gave me and my team a headache because we'll be rearranging our calendar and the content for next month's issue for this huge scoop; and last, you and Viv better be here with your best wardrobe for the interview and photoshoot this Friday or so help me Wayne, I will bring hell to your introverted home. Understood?”

“Crystal,” Bruce replied and ended the call.

When the magazine was released, Vivian and Bruce were on the front cover, and inside they got a ten-page special that Veronica made to a love story that was bound to end up on the altar. Many were a little pissed that they didn't get to do the special but with the release of the article, people were back on their daily lives.

Then the next part came. Planning the wedding.

~*~

“Can't we just have a small wedding? An intimate one with friends and family,” Vivian sighed as she went through the many ideas that Veronica has placed on multiple peg boards in the wedding planner's office where they have been going for the past few weeks.

Months after the announcement, Vivian and Bruce finally agreed to and found a date that would fit their schedules for their wedding and their honeymoon. It took a long time to decide with Batman going off world to help the Justice League in a couple of cases, and would be gone for months (in one occasion, and during that time Vivian, Dick, and Alfred pulled off one of the biggest scams of all: trying to convince the world that Bruce Wayne is accompanying a research team in the freaking jungle). 

Now, here they were, going through many options to choose from, with a guest list they have not finalized, dresses to try and make sure was perfect, flowers (Vivian reminded Veronica that she did not want to kill flowers for her wedding), catering, a theme, and a venue. 

“And have the people of Gotham rallying? No,” Veronica said as she lifted Vivian's legs off the couch to sit beside her, then laid them back on her lap. “Sorry, kid, that's the rules in marrying into Gotham's socialite. Especially if you're marrying long-running and the last eligible bachelor, Bruce Wayne.”

Seeing Vivian's stressed look, Veronica turned to Dick, who was with them all this time enjoying the cake samples, and nodded at the woman contemplating’s direction. Sighing, Dick got up and sat on the ground then placed Vivian's hand on his head to get a free head massage while she found comfort in it. He never really knew why Vivian found it comforting, but she did mention once: “if you had long hair, I would be braiding it now than messing it around.”

“How about we narrow it down first?” Dick offered. “Wedding dresses?”

Vivian turned to Dick and saw the magazine he was holding up for her to see. It had many wedding dresses made by fashion icons for her to choose from, and all costs a little too much for her liking. 

“You know, there's a dress that my dad sent over. He said my mom wore it in their wedding. It's not too much nor is it glamorous but it was beautiful. But I doubt the people would like it.”

Vivian could remember the image of her mother wearing it as she walked Madeline down the aisle. It was a white dress that reminded her of the fashion of women in Tuscany, with slightly puffed sleeves that reached her elbows and tied at the end, and her skirt had three layers that became shorter as it reached the top layer. Her mother wore a veil too with her crown of flowers that they made.

It was a simple wedding too, just close friends and family. Mostly from Adam's side since all Madline had was Vivian. They had their reception in their local pub, Madeline and Adam danced with the band playing, and Vivian gave a speech as she was Madeline's maid of honor, and the ring bearer.

“Maybe we can do dresses later – where's Bruce anyway, he should be here helping you out,” Veronica got out her phone and started typing a long message for Bruce.

Vivian and Dick gave each other a knowing look and sighed. Batman was currently off-world again and was at the Watchtower. There was an emergency that had the Justice League helping refugees, and a lookout for their next attacks. Batman has been on the Watchtower to keep watch on the next attack made by Red Claw, who was responsible for the refugee evacuation from multiple locations.

They got their hands full for the past couple of weeks.

“He's kind of busy, Ronie,” Vivian said as she sat up, took a breath, and got back on her feet. “Trust me, he wants nothing more than to be here and help me out.”

Not really, they both just wanted an intimate wedding, but as Veronica said, Gotham won't allow it. If they do so, Wayne might find himself on the bad side of every media outlet there was. He already pissed them off when Dick made the announcement of the engagement, they can't do that again with the wedding. 

When Bruce told her about it, he explained that, “it's all for show, yes, but this is still about us.”

“Really? Because the way I'm seeing it, it's about them,” said Dick as he entered the sitting room with ice cream.

“Not helping at all, Dick.”

Back in the wedding planner's office, Vivian finally decided on the flowers (“Fine, we'll go with fake flowers but I gotta twist this story of you having allergies so they won't see it as you being cheap,” said Veronica, “Put in a phobia there, I don't care, just no killing of flowers,” Vivian muttered). When it came to the drinks, Vivian was specific about the wine and the scotch. She'll just turn Bruce's wine to ginger ale. When it came to the cake, Vivian and Veronica turned to Dick to choose.

He did just eat every sample there was.

“I liked the red velvet,” said Dick. “But I don't know about the design.”

“Just make the design simple,” Vivian told them. “Like this one,” she showed the image of the minimalist looking cake with a few flower-shaped icing and twigs. 

For dresses and tux, she chose black but Veronica begged that it won't be a uniform dress. Vivian promised as long as they wore the color it's fine. 

Finishing up, they were met by Alfred who came to the wedding planner's office to pick up Vivian and Dick as the two went with Veronica in her car that day. As they said goodbye to Veronica, Vivian and Dick got in the car and were heading home when Vivian got a call from Bruce.

“Hey, we're just about to head home from the wedding planner's place, everything okay?” Vivian greeted him.

“Viv, it's an emergency,” said Batman.

“What is it?” Vivian placed her phone on speaker for Alfred and Dick to hear. 

“All those attacks were just to get the Justice League scattered. They've launched a missile attack on the city.”

“Gotham?” Vivian asked.

“Yes. I'm chasing the missile with the Batjet as we speak, but I can't be sure if I can get to it in time.”

“I'll handle it. Just keep your line open,” Vivian took the comms that Alfred held out to her and to Dick. The young man was also changing to his Robin uniform now at the back.

“Opening the secure line here, Sir,” Alfred spoke in their comm, letting Vivian end the one on her phone.

“Alfred, Dick, inform Gordon. I need to get to Lady Gotham. It's the closest to where the missile is coming from and the highest point there is.” In a flash, Vivian dropped from her seat and appeared atop Lady Gotham's head. The wind almost blew her away if she had not used magic to stick her to the structure. 

“I'm here, Bruce and I'm creating the shield,” Vivian summoned her seals and began the incantation. With the wide range, Vivian was putting all of her abilities to use, unknowing to her she was letting a few of the magic she has sealed away flow into the spell as she created the large dome around Gotham. 

According to Alfred in their comms, the people of the city were panicking at the sight of the dome, wondering if it was caused by one of their costumed criminals. She even heard Robin informing Commissioner Gordon that this was one of them, that Batman asked a local witch to put the dome around Gotham. 

“The missiles are armed with magnetic repulsion!” Batman called out to everyone in their comms.

Burning. She was burning from the inside, she could feel the power just engulfing her from within, but Vivian held on. 

“Batman, I got it up. Stop your pursuit,” Vivian said through gritted teeth.

“Members of the Justice League are on their way, but I can't promise that they'll get there on time. Lantern's closer, so he can fortify that shield even more.”

She could see the missile coming with her enhanced sight and behind it she saw the Batjet still chasing it. “Batman. Bruce. Stop the pursuit, I can protect Gotham from the blast.”

He was silent for a moment until he said, “We should have eloped than gone through all that.”

“Get back to me and we will. Bruce.”

“I'll be there for dinner tonight, I promise.” The comms were cut off, and Vivian saw what he did, and it horrified her. Batman attached the jet over the missile, and tried to lead it to another direction, one that would ease the impact on Vivian's shield. 

The jet crashed and the missile exploded, the impact made against her shield. Vivian focused the reinforcement of the shield in that direction and kept the debris away from Gotham and fall to the harbor. Seeing it was over, Vivian dropped the shield but she immediately went looking. Jumping off of Lady Gotham, she used her magic to fly her to where the explosion was to look for him. 

When she could find him floating, Vivian dropped to the water to look for any sign of Bruce, and she was right to do so. Batman was struggling to get out of his seat. It must have been damaged when it hit the water after ejecting. Swimming to him, Vivian created a bubble for them to breathe in and she pulled out one of his batarangs to cut the thing off.

“I told you to stop the pursuit,” she scolded him, her voice cracking as she saw the beaten state he was in. The impact in the water was harsh and he looked like he was just thrown across a wall with multiple fractures and possible internal bleeding. 

Batman chuckled but it was faint, “I had to make sure you were safe.”

“I had it.”

“I could still feel your magic's heat, Viv. You were burning up,” Batman slumped against her as Vivian got him off the seat. 

They reemerged to the surface, and just in time, Green Lantern arrived and made a raft for them both to transport them to shore. 

“Hi, I'm –” Hal began.

“He needs medical attention,” Vivian told him. “He's got multiple fractures and internal bleeding. I'm doing the best I can to mend him but… it's not… it's not enough.”

“Yeah, we can take him back to the Watchtower. Let me take him.”

“No. I'm coming with you.”

“It's complicated, lady.”

“I don't give a damn about your protocols right now,” she glared at Green Lantern with tears running down her face. “I'm going with you.” Her eyes glowed gold flames and steam exhumed from her body.

“Right, I'll send word to the Tower and get the medical room ready.”

~*~

It was the sound of the heart monitor and the sight of the rise and fall of his chest that kept Vivian awake despite the temptation of sleep. She can't sleep, even when her body wanted to and was telling her to rest. She didn't want to closer her eyes in fear of waking up with the worst to happen. J'onn reassured her that Batman has stable and will be fine, but she refused to leave his side and said she'll stay.

Seeing that Vivian won't budge, Superman handed her a change of clothes and a blanket to keep her warm. He also reassured her that he'll inform Alfred and Dick of Batman's state to ease their worries. 

Wonder Woman came to see how she and Bruce were, and offered some words of reassurance that he would be alright. Flash and Green Lantern too, who brought her some coffee and a snack, and attempted a conversation with her – any would be good but they went with the question on when the wedding will be. Flash turned to Green Lantern with an incredulous look then whispered, “Not the right time,” and he made an excuse that they'll head out, and if she needed anything just call.

Alone in the room with Bruce, Vivian reached out to hold his hand, careful with his injuries. “We really should have eloped,” she chuckled. “Dad would have killed you for it, but you're Batman. You could have done something to stay alive…” She leaned down and kissed his knuckles. “A Watchtower filled with gods, aliens, other dimensional beings, and metas, and you're the only one who could do the impossible. A man with nothing but your strength, tools that you made, and guts. A lot of guts. You really are the greatest hero there is, Batman.”

“Greatest hero, huh?” A weak voice spoke.

Raising from the bed, Vivian saw Bruce slowly opening his eyes and attempting to speak. “How bad is it?” He spoke with a hoarse voice, struggling a little. “Is it going to ruin the wedding photos?”

“My love,” Vivian carefully leaned down and placed her forehead on his. “You're okay.”

“I did promise that I'll be home for dinner,” Bruce joked. “And I still have a wedding to go to.”

“You scared me,” Vivian whispered.

Bruce hummed as he felt the familiar feeling of her magic enveloping him. It was doing its work in speeding his recovery, he felt stronger but he also felt how weak it was now. She was weak. Tired. He could see in her eyes how tired she was – he was not surprised, she did just envelope Gotham into one dome and fortified it to take on the missile. He knew she would have stopped the missile, but he got an alert in his gauntlet on the magic she was using with the heat monitor he had in his tech to monitor if she was overusing her magic.

In that moment she was overusing her magic and was burning up, similar to that time she was under Fear Toxin. He could only imagine what would happen to her if she took on that missile. But because of her no one got hurt when the missile and the jet crashed into her shield.

“Lay down beside me,” he said to her. “You need to rest.”

“Bruce.”

“I want you beside me.”

“You need to recover.”

“I need the woman I love beside me.”

Sighing, Vivian laid on the hospital bed and made sure to keep to the side so he wouldn't get hurt. Seeing she was at the very side, Bruce used his arm that was not broken to pull her close to him.

“I'm not fragile, Viv. You can wrap your arms around me,” he told her.

“I don't want to hurt you, that's all,” She carefully did what she was told and wrapped an arm around him. “This would have been an interesting story to tell on our toast.”

Batman hummed a chuckle. “I agree… I have a speech prepared in my study for the toast but I don't think it will ever be said for everyone to hear. And it's sad to know that no one will ever know about it too.”

“What did you say there?” Vivian clasped her hand with his.

“How you always had my back,” said Bruce. “How from our first case, I can count on you to save my life, and to the other cases we faced I can count on you, and this. What you did for Gotham was a testament to that too. Without hesitation you put yourself at risk just so I could get out of that safely.”

“Yet you still waiting for the last minute to do it,” Vivian teasingly chastised him. 

“And, like a Phoenix, you life to me again. Bruce Wayne died that day in that alleyway, and I accepted that, then you came along and showed me that he doesn't need to die and there doesn't need to be a distinction between Bruce Wayne and Batman. With you, I can be both. These are not masks. This is who I am, and I can be who I am with you.”

Vivian lifted herself with her elbow and leaned down to kiss his lips. “After Essex, I thought I should say goodbye to that life of mine. I was saying goodbye to the very thing that bonded me to my mother, and then I met you and I realized that starting over doesn't mean I should forget about that part of me. I can start over with my magic. You helped me tap into that magic again. You gave me courage to face my fears and find a new purpose.”

Batman leaned up to brush his nose against hers in an attempt to kiss her. “Let's get married.”

“We are,” Vivian chuckled. “In a couple of months after your recovery.”

“It won't take months for my recovery. Trust me on that,” Bruce smiled. “As soon as I get out of here. Let's get married, just a small one with those we trust — Alfred, Dick, Clark, Diana, and who else you want to invite. Without masks. It's only right that we get married without our masks.”

Vivian smiled. “As Batman and Bruce Wayne?”

Bruce nodded. “As a witch and Vivian Pryor.”

“I like that. We can have our ceremony – our real wedding just for us – and then we put on a show for Gotham.”

“A perfect plan.”

“Let's get married. We can even get married now – I'll call Alfred and Dick,” She laughed.

“After I recover. I want to dance with my wife and carry her into our home.”

“Okay, after your recovery. We head straight to the cave and get married. Just us. No masks.”

“I love you, Pryor.”

“I love you, Wayne.”

“Mind leaning down? I want to kiss you now.”

“Okay, okay,” she leaned down to kiss him over and over.

~*~

Unbeknownst to them, the other members of the Justice League was just outside, about to see him when they got alerts of changes in Bruce's heart monitor, and heard most of their conversation. Well, Superman heard all of it given his super-hearing.

“So, only Superman and Wonder Woman are invited to their wedding?” Flash grumbled.

“If that's the case then Batman shouldn't expect anything from me,” Green Archer muttered.

Wonder Woman rolled her eyes and told them that they should leave the couple alone.

~*~

The request was sudden but Alfred pulled through. He got ordained – online — so he could perform the ceremony, and with a few bribes, he managed to get a marriage license without the secret wedding breaking into the media. Now, as he stood in his son's room, watching him prepare, Alfred couldn't be any happier – prouder that this day was finally here.

His son was finally getting married.

“You sure about this, Bruce?” Dick raised a brow as he watched his surrogate father put on the Bat uniform. “I mean, come on, it's your wedding. At least dress up.”

“If you want to wear a tux, Dick, you're more than welcome to do so,” Bruce chuckled.

“Nah, I'm good with my uniform too. I mean, gotta keep up with the theme,” Dick said as he put on his domino mask and grinned. “Do you know what Viv's gonna wear?”

“She won't tell me. Do you?”

“It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding… or know what it is,” Dick teased him. 

“Well,” Alfred got up from his seat. “Considering you will be reserving your Father's tux for the second wedding, I shall see to Ms. Vivian.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” Bruce said.

But before he left, Alfred went to Bruce and fixed the man's cape. “I am proud of you, son. And to be the one to marry you both is a great honor.”

Bruce smiled and brought Alfred to an embrace. “Thank you, Alfred. For everything.”

“Of course, my boy,” Alfred held him tight. 

Releasing him, Alfred took one good look at Bruce before leaving the room to see Vivian who was in the other room on her own. He knocked five times on the door, and after a moment he heard the two responding knocks, he opened the door and was met by the sight of the woman wearing the white dress that came in their mail that day from Liverpool.

Her mother's wedding dress. 

Her something old.

“Alfred,” she was holding back her tears.

“Now, now, you shouldn't ruin your makeup, Ms. Vivian,” Alfred said as he entered the room with her. 

“I know. I just can't believe that this is actually happening…”

“I knew I should have had Master Richard keep you company,” Alfred led her back to her seat, in front of the vanity, where he helped fix her hair by putting only a portion of the locks at front to the back to be held by pearled and floral pins. 

“You're something blue,” he raised the blue bejeweled flower pin. “And something borrowed. This was Mrs. Waynes.” 

Vivian reached out and held the man's hand. Seeing her smile, Alfred said, “It saddens me that there is no one here to be with you in this room… and though I am not a replacement to your father nor your mother, I hope I can be a proxy to give you away, my dear.”

Vivian nodded, not trusting herself to not cry if she spoke. Alfred squeezed her hand.

“You're more than enough, Alfred,” Vivian leaned on his hand. “Thank you, so much, for accepting me to this home… and for trusting me with your son.”

“I should thank you for making him smile again. I thought I would never see that smile again.”

Finished with her hair, Alfred then pulled out a six-pence out of his shoe. “A six pence in your shoe. May I?”

Vivian nodded and slipped off her shoe so Alfred could put it, then with his aid she wore it again. 

“You look wonderful, my dear,” he said to her. His comms beeped, it was Dick telling him that they were in the cave, and that Superman and Wonder Woman were already there. “Well, looks like they're finally ready. Shall we, Professor?”

“Yes, I'm ready,” Vivian then slowly created something in her hands, her magic flowed around as it created a figure of a bouquet of flowers. Lilies. She had conjured lilies from her magic to be her bouquet. 

~*~

“Maybe I should have worn something different,” Superman said as he glanced at Diana who wore her ceremonial robes that she wore in Themyscira, but instead of white it was blue. When Bruce told him that he was invited to the ceremony as Superman, he went there wearing his uniform but when he arrived he was surprised to find Diana wearing a dress. 

“I told you,” Lois teased him. She wore a dress for the event as well. “Are you all sure with getting married in your uniform?” 

Batman nodded.

“Maybe I should have gone earlier to help Vivian prepare.”

“Trust us, she's taken care of,” said Dick. “Besides, they're coming down now… and that's my cue.” Dick pressed a button on his phone which activated the music. From the elevator, Alfred emerged with Vivian in his arms. 

Batman let out a breath as he saw her. The real her, not the one Gotham wants her to be. His Vivian. Wearing a white dress that showed everyone the truth of who she was. A witch. The dress looked like it came from those books about witches and enchantresses. A witch who was in touch with her surroundings, nature, and life around her. A green witch if it weren't for her affiliation to fire. 

As she walked towards their makeshift altar in the Batcave, Batman couldn't take his eyes off her. No one else was there but them both. All he could see was her smile and the way her eyes twinkled, maybe it was because of the tears of happiness that made it look like they were twinkling he didn't care. She was beautiful, and this was finally happening. 

When they came to the altar – which was just the Batcomputer – Alfred handed her to Bruce before taking his place before them both. Batman took her hands in his and kissed her knuckles. 

“Can't wait for the instructions, huh?” Dick teased him.

Vivian laughed and clasped Batman's hands with hers. 

Alfred began the ceremony, making a speech about love and telling the story about their love and how they were able to find rebirth and a purpose to live – really live again with each other's company.

When it came to their vows, Vivian and Bruce decided to stick to the standard version with a few alterations as they both said their vows to each other during that night in the Watchtower hospital bed. Vows that were meant for each other.

“I, Bruce Wayne, take you, Vivian Pryor, as my wife. I promise to always fight for you, to fight to come back to you everyday. No matter where I am, and no matter what adversary I face, I will come back to you. I promise to take any burden you carry and let you carry mine – your shit is my shit too –” Vivian laughed. “I promise to love you, to care for you, even in death. 

“You said that one moment does not define a person's life; It's the journey they made, the memories they leave with those who mourn their passing. I want you to know that you have defined my life’s journey, and I want Gotham – the world to know that you are the very center of Bruce Wayne and Batman’s world.”

When it was Vivian's turn, she took a breath and began, “I, Vivian Pryor, take you, Bruce Wayne, as my husband…” she took a breath again and shrugged. “I forgot what I wrote, so bear with me if this isn’t as romantic as the one you just said.”

“Forgiven,” Batman smirked. 

“I’ve been through a hell lot of shit growing up. I’ve seen things that have scared me that I can’t sleep at night because they haunt me still. But just like that night when you found me throwing up in that trash bin, and accused me of setting up the whole murder to get more publicity on my books –”

“Wait, what?” Lois raised a brow.

“You did what?” Clark questioned Bruce.

“-- you still wrapped your cloak around me when you saw that I needed help. When I was overwhelmed with those that were haunting me, you didn’t know what was happening but you protected me in that simple act. What I’m trying to say is, you have a good heart,” Vivian smiled and placed her hand on his chest. “One that cares for anyone in need and even the villains you face. And I promise to protect that good man from ever descending to madness. They keep telling you that you’re just one bad day away from becoming like them — so, I promise you, that I will be here to remind Batman of who he is. His mission. His code. I will keep this good man grounded.

“I promise to help ease the burdens you carry because I know that there are so many and how heavy it is for you. Your shit is my shit too. I promise to always be here waiting for you to come home, but I will always have your back either if it’s to cover for you when Batman goes missing, or to fake an accident because Batman broke his leg, or to answer your call for help. 

“I promise to love you – the whole you, the one that doesn’t need to wear a mask. And even in death I will love you, Bruce, because I promise that in whatever plane you are sent to in the afterlife, I will fight whatever gatekeeper there is – Charon, Lucifer, the freaking angels – so I can be with you. I love you, Batman, from our first case to our last.”

Batman reached up and caressed her cheek. “I love you, Vivian. From our first kiss to our last.”

When it was time for the rings, Dick handed them the wedding bands, and Bruce was surprised when he saw the customized wedding band for him. It was the design that Vivian had customized for him. It was sleek and black with a single silver stipe in the middle, and inside he saw the engraving: you have my heart – Vivian.

Her wedding band was made of silver, a simple one, and inside she saw the engraving: my love, my life – Bruce.

As  Alfred gave the permission for the couple to finally kiss as husband and wife, Vivian removed Batman’s cowl and brought him to a deep and passionate kiss. Cheers came from their witnesses of four as they celebrated the official union between Bruce and Vivian. 

Breaking the kiss, Bruce picked her up, carrying her in his arms, just as he promised he would do, and kissed her again. Breaking the kiss, Vivian looked at him lovingly and said, “Now and forever, Mr. Pryor.”

Bruce smiled and pressed his forehead on hers. “Now and forever, Mrs. Wayne.”

[moonlit-imagines]

Rekindled

Dick Grayson x Kyle!reader

warnings: guns/violence, death, brutality. like, the typical arkham game themes. not graphic, tho!! mostly mentions

a/n: this sorta takes place in the arkham knight storyline but you really dont have to know anything about that game to read this, i wanted to give enough detail bc i liked this idea and the arkham game fandom is under appreciated. also lowkey y/n is based on an oc but almost all my y/n’s are <3

prompt:

Gotham was on fire. You were dumb enough to stay behind. Selina had been MIA for longer than you were used to, and every effort of contact was futile. Last time this happened, she had been arrested and thrown into Arkham City, so it was needless to say that you were a bit worried.

Last thing she told you was that a “pretty worthless supervillain” needed her help with something, but she left it at that. Yeah, she had a habit of making herself scarce, but she was your only family and you two always kept in touch. And now that the evacuation was in effect, you felt even more uneasy.

You pulled on your suit, black leather and spandex hugging your body tighter as you zipped up. Pulled your gloves on, claws and all. Clicked the belt around your waist, equipping your small set of weapons and utilities. The headpiece was pretty simple, just some silly cat ears to match your aunt’s, along with the goggles for good measure.

Gotham was more dangerous than you’d ever seen, only delinquents like yourself roamed the streets. Except, they didn’t carry a code like you. Scarecrow caused a panic, this “Arkham Knight” had a personal vendetta to fill, the city was on its knees. Tanks were starting to load onto the islands, troops taking over buildings, and riots overwhelmed what little protection was left here. You knew a few places to go, but your best bet was the movie studios.

Panessa, Batman’s secret base with the Wayne name slapped right on the outside, it always made you smile when you saw it. You were hoping to find an ally inside, maybe someone who could help you find Aunt Selina.

And you may be thinking you’d just sneak inside like a lovely little cat burglar would, but why not try the front door. “Stray.” You spoke into the voice box and chuckled as the doors opened for you. “It’s like they were waiting for me to crawl on back.” You stepped inside and into the elevator and poked the down button, trusting the rickety old elevator to deliver you safely to the lower level.

When you stepped out, there was only one familiar face that wasn’t behind a pane of glass. Didn’t know Batman kept prisoners. “Y/N?” Robin asked from across the room, setting down his tablet to meet you halfway. “What the hell are you still doing in Gotham?”

“Selina’s missing and I didn’t want to leave without her. What’s…all this?” You motioned at the containment cells, starting to understand why there were prisoners when you noticed their Joker-esque features. The lot began to make trouble, beginning to harass and poke fun the same way that clown would.

“Ignore them. I’ll call Batman.” Tim told you. “Make yourself comfortable, I guess. You already broke in.”

“Broke in?” You scoffed. “I used the door, actually. Still have my little voice thing activated. I just had to say my name and I walked in. Kind of rude to assume I just break in just because I happen to be a burglar from time to time.” You ranted and heard a chuckle from Robin just before Batman answered his call.

“He wants to talk to you.” Tim called you over, holding out his arm in an awkward way to you could talk to Bruce.

“Tell me everything, y/n.” Batman instructed.

“Hey, good to see you, too. Uhh, yeah, so Lina said she was hired by some loser supervillain to steal something they needed. That was basically all she told me before she left, been a few days. Can’t get ahold of her.” You explained, looking over at Tim and shrugging. “She considers most of the so-called ‘supervillains’ of Gotham ‘losers,’ though, so it doesn’t really narrow it down.”

“Okay. Stay at the movie studios. I’ll look into it.” Batman hung up just like that and you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m not allowed to leave either. This…” Robin motioned to the Joker lookalikes, “is what Joker left behind in his death. All that infected blood from Arkham City, it wasn’t all caught, and I have to find a cure.” Robin went back to his tablet and you sat on a nearby chair. “Catwoman tell you much about the City?”

“Only that it was a shithole and Two-Face is a loser.” You started scrolling through the computer before you, reading little lab notes here and there. “How’s Oracle?”

“She’s in the city, of course. Refused to evac, wanted to help, but no one expected anything less.” Robin noticed you snooping, but let you continue. “Nightwing’s okay, too.” Your eyes peeked to the side and your brows raised. “Well, not really. Ego’s bruised since Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy kicked his ass the other night.” You laughed out loud, quite amused by the news.

“Good, he probably needed it.” You leaned back in the chair. “You know, I could probably help out there.”

“I already tried, Batman said to stay here.” Tim sighed.

“I don’t work for Batman. Maybe I wanna go kick some ass and try to find my aunt.” You explained, only half-jokingly. If was only seconds after that projections of the Riddler showed up all over Gotham. “Oh, brother. Not this guy.” You groaned, watching Nygma go on about his plan until Catwoman appeared on screen, causing you to bolt up and out of your chair. You would have run for it now if not for his explicitly telling you to stay away.

“Oh, and Stray, dear? Keep away, please. This is for Batman and Batman only, and if you get too close I might just…oh, well, you know.” Riddler chuckled at the insinuation that he’d detonate the bomb around Selina’s neck. Robin looked to you, noticing you were completely flush as you watched the broadcast.

“Y/N, he’s won’t let Nygma do anything to her. Try to stay calm.” Tim tried to snap you out of it, which only caused you to transition from fear to rage, jumping up from the chair and pacing around to keep from hitting him.

“Just…shut up, T—Robin. Shut up.” Your claws were drawn and you were steadying your breathing before things got ugly for everyone. More taunts were thrown at you from the Joker-infected and you needed to get the hell out of here, so you headed for the elevator.

“Wait, hey! Y/N, you can’t go out there, it’s not safe.” Robin jogged up beside you, but you ignored him. “You can’t save her right now, Riddler is obsessed with besting Batman. You can’t interfere or it’s over.” You stepped into the elevator and just as you were about to press the button, “Dick is in the city.” You paused.

“Why do I care?” You rolled your eyes and watched Robin pull a wrist communicator from his belt.

“You care.” He handed you the comm. “You can call any of us with that. We have our locations on, too. Keep in touch.”

“Where is he?” You sheepishly asked, looking down at your boots. You knew Tim had a stupid, told-you-so smirk on his face.

“Near the docks, he’s working on something. He’ll probably need your help.” Your eyes sort of lit up when you heard that, but you quickly took yourself back to reality knowing Tim was just trying to make sure you weren’t alone out there. For Dick’s sake.

You were still considered apart pf the family, even if Selina and Bruce weren’t a thing at the moment and you and Dick had gone your separate ways. You still caught yourself thinking about Dick Grayson often, wondering what could have been, what you would have done differently, why you guys even chose to leave. Sometimes it made sense, sometimes you struggled not to pick up the phone.

But now you stood on the rooftop of Panessa Studios, looking out to a city in ruins. A city in need of saving. As much as you respected Bruce, there’s no way you believed he could do this all alone. And if he was going to save your aunt, maybe you should lend a helping hand in the meantime. You fiddled with the device on your wrist, trying to get the hang of the new model communicator until you found Nightwing’s contact programmed in. Clicking the button made your stomach drop, you froze up as the line rang.

This comm was given to you, but wasn’t updated in the system as yours, so Nightwing answered the message from Batcom #1 and was shocked to see your beautiful face waiting for his answer. “Y/N! Are you…are you still in Gotham?” Dick’s calling of your name was embarrassingly high-pitched, but he recovered it upon his question. “Please tell me you’re not here.”

“Dick, I’m wearing cat ears and my aunt is being held hostage at the moment, of course I’m here.” You sarcastically answered, just like he remembered. “Tim gave me this thing, said I could go help out if I wanted. Just have to stay away from Riddler stuff for the night.” You explained, showing the Panessa Studios sign in the background.

“Yeah?” You could see Dick’s smile, like he and Tim knew exactly how to plan and you just wouldn’t figure it out. But despite this cold, brutal night, you felt all warm and fuzzy inside when that smirk grew on his face, you knew he was happy to have this opportunity. “I kind of need a partner for what I’ve got going on, Penguin’s doing something shady down by the docks. Wanna join me?”

“I could get behind that.” He sensed a bit of flirtation in your voice. “Meet you there?”

“I’m already here, why don’t I meet you in the middle? It’s really bad out here…” Dick rubbed the back of his neck nervously, thinking he’d come on too strong.

“You’re worried about me?” You chuckled and he told himself his suspicions were true. “How sweet.” You began walking to the edge of the roof, beginning to plot your path to avoid any psychopaths that may try to murder or kidnap you. “It’s not that far, I’ll be fine.” You hung up on him and he took a deep breath. Seeing his ex, probably his first love, after a long, long hiatus, it probably freaked him out more that Gotham’s takeover right now.

You barely felt the nerves he did, you knew you had a certain power over him. Not that you’d like to use it, not like you used to. Getting away with petty little crimes with your charm until you finally gave him a chance, let him show you the other side of things. Betraying that trust would put you down the wrong path once again.

Dick waited patiently for you, staring at the rooftops you may travel across to try and spot you, completing ignoring the smoke and flames from below. Running into trouble up there wouldn’t be much of a problem, everyone was busy robbing stores and shooting each other on the ground. You’d heard about some freaky bodies strung up on rooftops, some more Riddler shenanigans hidden around the place. Honestly, it didn’t surprise you much. This was Gotham City, where anything could happen.

Soon you found yourself just a few more steps from your past. You and Nightwing, both masked, stood across from each other with only a gap between buildings between you. With a graceful leap, you swung above the road and landed right beside the vigilante, who was a bit too stunned to speak, but he was the famed Dick Grayson…he doesn’t stay quiet for long. “Nice landing.” His smooth voice made you smirk involuntarily.

“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting.” You rolled your whip up and clipped it back to your belt.

“Eh, you did…but I’m willing to forgive and forget.” He quipped in his nonchalant tone, same boy you’ve always known. “Bat bossing you around?”

“Yeah, he wanted me to stay at that run-down movie studio. I really wasn’t about it.” You sighed, looking down at the arms deal below. “But I guess you know the feeling a lot better than me. I never really listened to the guy, you know?”

“Oh, I know.” Nightwing chuckled, kneeling down by the ledge. “You’re my inspiration for breaking away. Always giving Bruce shit, not taking him seriously. He hated it.”

“Hated me?” You asked him, wide-eyed.

“Actually, I think it was the reason he liked you so much back then. Usually people see him as like, an authority figure.” Nightwing explained, still observing the Penguin goons below. “And the people who didn’t listen were usually still a little afraid of him. But you were just that ‘kid’ who never quite listened and didn’t quite care.” You chuckled at some old memories that came back to you with his words. Memories of awkward patrols and first encounters with Batman and the first Robin. You and him were so young back then. So young and so hopeless.

“So you’re saying he approved of me?” You teased with a taunting smirk and poked Nightwing in the arm, causing him to scoff and roll his eyes. “Oh, yeah, the big bad Batman approved of the poor little street cat.”

“Well, as close to approval as possible. He is still a hardass.” Nightwing realized in that moment how easy it was to fall into your old ways. No awkwardness, just two people who have a bond you can’t break with time. “So, uh, these guys down here.”

“Righttt, the Penguin guys. North Refrigeration, huh? Man, you’d think Oz wouldn’t be so predictable.” You remarked as a car sped past you on the street behind, shooting an automatic rifle into the sky, but you paid little mind to it. “Remember the Iceberg Lounge? He must really like the cold.”

“He’s definitely got a gimmick.”

“Don’t we all?” You pointed to the cat ears on your headpiece and you both burst into quiet chuckles. “Are we gonna go down there or what, Dickie?” Your nickname for him made his heart flutter.

“Bruce wanted me to wait, he’s got a plan.” Nightwing sighed. “I’m only listening now because of how insane it is tonight, but I wish he’d let us handle it ourselves. He needs a break.”

“I think we all do.” You crossed your legs on the concrete rooftop and wrapped your arms around them, looking past the illegal activities below and over at the city skyline across the water. “If we all make it out of here alive, I think it’s time I leave Gotham.” You stared in silence for a few moments, pretending not to realize Dick staring at your profile. “Wanna do my thing and not listen to Bruce?” You snapped out of it and raised your eyebrows in a playful way. “You can’t say no, it’s not in my nature to listen to big strong men.”

“You wanna go bother these guys down here? They’re just doing their jobs.” He joked, getting up to play your game.

“Oh, well that’s too bad.” You shrugged, nearing the edge of the roof. “Maybe I just wanna say ‘hi.’”

“Oh, well if that’s all you wanna do.” Nightwing stood beside you and you both took a quick leap from the building to the ground, startling the group of thugs and interrupting their very important work.

“Shit! Catwoman?” One of the thugs asked before getting punched in the gut by yourself.

“Hah, he deserved that! Rest of us know who you are, Ronnie’s just a dumbass.” Another thug assured you before Nightwing shocked him with an escrima stick. You both took turns knocking around these cronies until all of them were laid out across the ground, only ones left were hiding inside of the van beside you.

“That was fun.” Nightwing nudged you with his elbow as you walked side by side to the back of this van. “We’ll have to do that again sometime.”

“How about when we find their hideout?” You suggested, knocking on the van doors. They flung open and were shocked to see two vigilantes waiting for them, then desperately drove off just as you’d planned. Nightwing grabbed you by the waist, pulled you close, and used his grapple gun to bring you both back the the rooftops so you could easily follow the van without being spotted. It was a bit off-guard, being pulled in like that, but you didn’t mind at all.

After some time and a bit of flirty remarks here and there, you both made it to the Penguin’s hideout. “You sure you’re in? There’s a lot of people in there, we can still wait for Bruce.”

“Come on, Dickie. It’s nothing we haven’t done before.” You tilted your head to have him come along with you and led him to an unconventional entrance. “It’s gonna be tons of fun, you’ll see.” You opened the rooftop vent and slid down first, crawling beneath the floor and estimating how many men you’d be going up against with your infrared goggles. Probably twenty or so, but you and Dick had trained together for a long time, it would all come back to you in an instant—you hoped.

The both of you popped out from the shadows and immediately started beating on these criminals, watching them all scramble to figure out how to react. “Told you, fun!” You called out to Dick, tossing a pair of bolas at a goon’s legs causing him to trip right into Nightwing’s roundhouse.

“Never doubted you for a moment!” Nightwing answered, pushing another thug your way so you could catch his arm with your whip, pulling his fist into his face. “Ouch! Why’d you do that, man?” Nightwing punched your victim once again. “Starting to think you like getting hurt.” The two of you continued throwing punches in sunch a calculated, synchronized way, catching a few as well. Once a thug managed to land a punch to your face, Nightwing was right to the rescue. “You okay?”

“Never better, baby.” You held your cheek and he worried you’d got a concussion for a moment before realizing you called everyone “baby.” Dazed, he also caught a punch to the back, knocking the final thug down with only his elbow. “That was it? That wasn’t even a challenge, that was a warm-up.” You told Dick, who was still kind of staring at you. “Hey, I told you I’m fine, don’t worry.” You smiled.

“It’s not that.” Dick chuckled. “It’s just, I’m thinking about what you said earlier.”

“What’d I say?” You kicked a guy’s arm away from your foot, wondering what Dick meant.

“About leaving Gotham…I’ve got an extra room at my place.” Dick shamelessly offered, but you could hear the nervousness in his voice.

“An extra room? Did you move apartments?” You raised a brow and saw his cheeks turn red under his mask.

“Uh, well…no.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his gloved hand. “I have extra room in my bed, though…if you’re down.” You stared at him, shocked and expressionless. Not many people could do that to you. “I don’t want to put you on the spot, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I don’t expect anything out of you, but y/n, I want you in my life again.”

“…What?” You quietly answered him, still dumbfounded by the sudden proposal. You absolutely loved seeing him tonight, and you loved fighting beside him, and you loved him. It was like everything was coming back together.

“I left Gotham, I left everything behind. I left you behind. And I know that was both of our decisions, but if you’d just leave Gotham with me tonight, after all of this is over, I’d like to start over with you however you’d like.” Dick and you stood below these dim string lights in this criminal base surrounded by beaten foes, piles of money, and loads of firearms. A hell of a place for a romantic speech like this. “I just realized how much I was missing without you. And all the dangers of tonight, and you and I getting stuck here. I don’t want to be apart again, y/n.” He confessed to you.

You both quietly stood there a moment, not knowing what to do. You were still sweating from the fighting that had concluded a few minutes ago. Still breathing heavy with a fast heartbeat, but now for a new reason.

You said it yourself, you wanted to leave. Tonight solidified that decision. And Selina would understand. You were a Stray, you went where it was good for you, and maybe Blüdhaven would be good for you. It wasn’t on fire nearly as much, didn’t have as many supervillains, wouldn’t give you a target on your back.

And it had him.

And he was offering you everything.

And without another thought, you took a few paces forward into his arms and pulled his face in for a deep kiss, hands carefully cupping his cheeks as not to scratch them. Dick was surprised at first, but couldn’t resist what he’d been wanting since he left for Blüdhaven. He wrapped his arms around your waist and slowly kissed you back, the passion was still there. Both of you felt it.

You pulled away slightly and gazed into his eyes, both smiling stupidly from the kiss. “Does this mean you’ll come with me? Please say it does.”

“Yeah, Dickie, I’ll come with.”

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @summersimmerus // @xoxobabydolls // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 //

[lex-munro]

[Suicide Squad Scrap] Princess pt. 20

self-indulgent batjokes-flavored SS/BvS/JL, installment 20.  errbody love Brucie.  my Arkham layout is mostly similar to the Arkham gameverse’s version.  we’re gonna handwave the composition of the basement flooring in that particular building, even though realistically there should be several feet of dirt and conduit space between any drain/sewer systems and the building (unless the Arkham family built it all at once as a single structure like a damn castle—y’know what, that’s not out of character).

the piece as a whole is rated Mature for pervasive language, varying degrees of violence, use of controlled substances, sexual references, questionable ethics, and themes of mental illness.  set from Flag’s POV, with references to (and oblique spoilers for) Birds of Prey, but not compliant with The Suicide Squad.

***

Joker dozes intermittently on the drive, which is deeply inconvenient since he’s giving directions.  They leave a hotwired Olds parked by the curb of the swanky two-level.  It sounds like there’s a minor party in the pool at the back (splashing, laughter, clinking glasses, but only muted music).

Joker pauses on the porch and reaches up into the overhang to pull out a spare key.  (Flag hopes the neighbors aren’t looking, because Joker definitely looks more like a meth-head trying to break in than a guy who lives in a place like this.)

They walk in the front door all but unnoticed.

Joker leads them to the den, where a bubble of silence spreads as people catch sight of him.  He sidles up behind a guy (still talking to some busty redhead whose big blue eyes are currently fixed on the gun in Joker’s hand), and settles both hands on the guy’s shoulders.  “Hoooney, I’m hoooome,” Joker coos.

Flag wonders what clichéd line will come next.  It’s not what it looks like, is always a favorite.  Maybe, I can explain.

“Welcome back, Mister J,” the guy says, and his voice barely shakes.  “Club’s running like a dream, Queenie’s a big hit, shipments are all on schedule.  How was Arkham?”

“Boring,” Joker says, and heaves a long sigh as he clambers over the couch to sit between the henchman and the redhead, armed hand still hooked over the henchman’s shoulder.  “Then Boy Scout back there took me to meet Satan, and she had me doing her dirty work in between drug comas.  Good times.  But she once again has something of mine, and this time, oh, this time…”  Joker leans his head back on the couch.  “Fuck just shooting our way in, grabbing my property, and getting out.  She needs to be taught a lesson.”

“Belle Reve again?”

“Possibly.  We’ll have to look into it.  Anyway, Daddy’s princess is gonna set fire to anything and anyone that gets between me and my Batsy.”  He lifts the pistol to trail its muzzle over his henchman’s jaw.  “All of you better remember who built all this.  Remember who killed Carmine Falcone and Hamilton fucking Hill and Rupert goddamn Thorne.  Remember who’s broken out of Blackgate three times and Arkham seven.  I’m gonna go rinse off and get dressed, and then we’re getting Harley’s girl outta Arkham for her.”  He presses a loud, theatrical kiss on the man’s cheek, leaving a morbid red smear, then hops up.

Flag would tell Lawton to follow him, but the assassin does it anyway.

“Fuckin’ weak,” complains Ratcatcher.  “I was hoping he’d, like, cut the guy’s nose off, or drown him in the pool, or feed him his own balls…”

The henchman gets up from the couch and turns to them.  “I’m Mike.  I’m Mister J’s number one guy.  You want anything, you come to me.”

Flag sees right through the bravado.

“Pretty obliging for a guy Harley said stole the whole operation when Jay and the Bat had their little talk,” Ratcatcher notes.

Mike goes as pale as Harley and Joker at the accusation.

Flag smirks.  “Call me Flag.  That’s Arcee.  I’m sure Deadshot needs no introduction, even if he’s playing bodyguard instead of assassin.”

Mike nods agreeably.  “You want anything?  Beer, bourbon, tequila?  We got a shitload of pizza in the kitchen, too.”

“Pizza, hell yeah, that’s what we smelled,” Ratcatcher says, to a chorus of eager squeaking in her coat.

Flag rolls his eyes and follows her, clocking each armed member of the gang and catching them doing the same to him.  Seven in the den, one in the hall with his hands up a girl’s skirt while she giggles and almost (but not quite) spills her drink down his back.  Three more talking sports in the foyer, two in the kitchen debating the underlying literary themes of Banks’ sci-fi work.

The two in the kitchen freak when eight big rats scamper out of Ratcatcher’s clothes to politely inspect the food and make their selections.  Ratcatcher grabs them paper plates from the stack and everything.  She catches the gangers staring and says (with her mouth full of what looks like mushroom-bell-pepper), “You wanna get down on this?”

“No thanks,” one says while the other just stares and looks green.

“They had a bath yesterday, and they only touched their own food,” Ratcatcher tells them reprovingly.  “They’re probably cleaner than you are.”

By the time she and the rats are finished, Joker sweeps into the kitchen.  He’s wearing a tailored purple three piece suit with a tail coat, lavendar pinstripes on the vest setting off the loud magenta trim.  His silk shirt is an eye-gouging shade of mustardy yellow that matches a hideous paisley tie.

“Noice!” says Ratcatcher.  “Looking fully pimp, Mister J!”

Flag can’t help the look of horror he gives her.

“That’s the face I made, too,” Lawton says.  “Buuut, we do need to get noticed.”

“This is a classic,” Joker informs them.  “I wore it to the GCPD Christmas Charity Ball the year I met my Batsy, and spilled red wine on Isabela Maroni after she insulted my poor hardworking tailor.”

Lawton frowns.  “Didn’t you throw an entire bottle at her face?  Just, like…corked and everything?”

“It spilled,” Joker insists.

“After it shattered on her nose.  Sal’s the only guy who’s ever been both dumb and brave enough to try to hire me to kill you, y’know.”

“What’d ya tell him, sweetcheeks?”

“Haveta have a death wish to take the contract, ‘cause anybody skilled enough to actually get it done would be dead within a week, assuming the Bat didn’t get there first.  This was before the psychotic break—pretty sure he’d kill ‘em these days.”

“What can I say?  Daddy doesn’t like people touching his things,” Joker says with a grin.  “Come on—we’re picking up some thermite from my stash before we meet back up with Croc and Boom.”

“And these guys?” Flag asks.

“Mickey and the gang will meet us at one of Croc’s old haunts, and he’ll guide us in.”

“Sewers?” Ratcatcher asks a little too eagerly.

Joker just keeps grinning.

“Oh, I almost forgot…”  She stuffs the last of her pizza slice into her mouth while she digs in her coat.  She pulls out a couple of knives—an antique ivory handled switchblade, yellowed with age but still proudly sporting an engraved motif of card suits; and the green-handled butterfly knife that left a permanent smile on Vinnie’s face.  “My buddies snagged these when Satan’s cronies stripped and straited you.”

He takes the blades, stows them in opposite pockets (left vest, right trouser).  “Not bad, Minnie.”

“‘Not bad’?  Lick my ass!  It was cool and you know it.”

He barks a short, sharp laugh, and Flag gets the feeling she’s impressed him, somehow.

“Macky, got something for you while you’re out,” he says.  “Go to this address, say ‘Location compromised, get your bug-out bag,’ and take the charming young lady to the club.”

“Mike,” the henchman corrects in a long-suffering tone.

“Gently,” Lawton stipulates.  “Every scratch on my baby is a bullet in something tender of yours.  And don’t try to tell her we’re friends, or you work with me, or any of that bullshit, or she’ll probably mace your ass and run.”

On their way out the door, Lawton lingers over Flag’s shoulder to mutter, “He’s still in and out.  Almost busted his skull open in the shower.  Keep a sharp eye.”

They swing by an outdoor storage place to grab three heavy duffel bags full of metal canisters.

Back at Harley’s place, Croc is busy being fawned on by Harley, Huntress, and some leggy black girl while a grumpy Latina ignores Digger’s attempts to make small talk with her (admittedly impressive) cleavage.

“What the fuck is he wearing?” the grumpy one asks when Joker sidles in and gestures to the door.  “Holy shit, isn’t that the suit you wore when you danced with Bruce Wayne after you threw a wine bottle at Sal Maroni’s wife?”

“Don’t do that, Montoya!” Harley scolds.  “Don’t remember his antics, or you’ll just feed his obnoxious narcissism!”

Joker grins.  “You know you love it.  Croc-baby, we’re going in through the storm drains, and then we’ll melt our way into the props department.  Told the crew to meet up at your old place under Amusement Mile; you’re on point, big guy.  Ladies, I recommend following us as far as the island, but after that, we’ll be drawing far too much attention to ourselves.  Let’s go get Ivy and nab some anti-ARGUS intel.”

“Well, somebody needs to stay here and babysit Brucie, so you lot have fun with that,” Digger says, petting the hyena sitting beside him on the couch.

Flag rolls his eyes, but Joker strolls over and plops down on Digger’s lap (the Aussie freezes like a skunk in headlights).

“You are so right, Boom-boom,” Joker says sweetly, one hand stroking suggestively over Digger’s chest.  “And I know you are gonna be the best puppy-sitter in Gotham, because Brucie here is important to our galpal Harley, and if a single fuzzy hair on his precious little mug were to be harmed, you know that Harls would rip your balls off with her teeth and go play baseball.  And I know you know how important it is to have a good puppy-sitter, because if it were anything less vital and you thought I might need your help getting my Batsy away from that smug evil asshole with the kitten heels, you would definitely give it to me so that I wouldn’t have to hunt you down and put a pretty smile on your face like I did the last guy who screwed me.  You remember Vinnie, right?  Or were you too busy with the Human Crepe impression?”

“I remember,” Digger squeaks.

“Oh, good.  Then you stay here and take very, very good care of Brucie.”  And he plants a loud kiss against Digger’s cheek, leaving a dark red lipstick print, somewhat less smudgy and disturbing than the one he left on Mike’s face.

Harley snorts.  “My little business partner is on her way here, too, so watch your manners, Boomy.  Her ‘n Brucie are besties.”

The storm drains are surprisingly clean.  Jones leads them along loud, wet tunnels far below the streets of always-rainy Gotham, taking a maze of turns while Harley tells her girls all about ‘the fun we all had killin’ a bunch of eyeball zombies or whatever’ in Midway City.  Then she tells Lawton (specifically him, definitely ignoring Joker and with an air of maybe having already told Croc) about ���this diamond full of blackmail that Sionis put a bounty on,’ which is how she met the Birds and her ‘little buddy, Cass.’

“And thanks for the price on my head, by the way,” she adds sourly.

“If you couldn’t handle that drippy little fuckstick, you’d’ve deserved to get your pretty little face cut off,” Joker replies easily.  “I have faith in your ability to solve your own problems, Doctor Quinzel.  You did chase after me on a motorcycle after I specifically told you we were done and you bored me.”

“And then you made me un-boring, right?  Whatever.  I coulda had a psychotic break and a mutated epiphany all on my own, you know—I didn’t need you for it.”

“And I didn’t need you to fuck with my memory, but here we are, Doc.  And it’s not like I pushed you—you jumped.”

“Focus up, Jay, we got shit to accomplish,” Flag says before Harley can continue their little slap fight.

“She started it.”

“And I’m stopping it.  Behave yourself.”

“Yes, Mommy,” Joker snarks.

Flag almost misses the moment when Joker falters a step and Lawton catches him—it’s disguised in a single smooth motion that looks like Lawton pushing Joker to keep him moving.

Great.  Unpredictable mood swings on a guy with a short, bloody temper, and lingering drug interactions on top.

They arrive at a huge cistern, where Mike and some guys in Halloween masks wait with guns.

“Brought the guns, Mister J,” says Mike.

Joker sways again; he catches himself on Flag and turns the motion into a few steps of a rather forceful waltz.  “That’s what I like to hear!” he cries with a brief burst of laughter.

“Get off me,” Flag grumbles, but steadies the maniac.

“Grab some cans, gents—the usual color codes apply.”  He and Croc throw down the bags from the outdoor storage unit, full to bursting with aerosol cans, and the cannon fodder hurriedly gear up.

They make it to the island without getting too wet; Croc leads the way with confident ease, despite a dozen twists and turns and detours.

A couple hundred feet in, Croc pauses at a ladder.  “Drain here comes out below admin central offices,” he tells Harley.  She nods, and the girls split off.

He leads the rest of them farther in, through a few more turns, and stops to listen.

“Yo, Arcee—your little snack packs hear anything above us?”

He hoists her up as she holds a rat up to the ceiling.  After a few seconds, she shakes her head.

“Computers about twenty feet the way we came.  Footsteps fifty-ish feet ahead.”

Joker looks up and counts bricks.  “Gimme a boost, Croc,” he says, grabbing a purple canister and a green canister from some nearby goons.

He sprays the two compounds in a broad rectangle and shoves a fuse into it.

“Might step back and close your eyes,” he suggests.  “It’s gonna get a little toasty.”

In point of fact, it gets hot as hell near the blinding conflagration that results.  Clearly, the mad chemist makes good thermite.

A goon sprays the stuff down with a pink canister, once the section of brick and mortar has collapsed into the tunnel with a minor cloud of dirt.

“Finish up for me, boys,” Joker commands, and his men hurry to clamber into the new gap and spray more chemicals on the freshly exposed metal.

“Nice of them to line it with steel instead of concrete,” Flag scoffs.

“They were thinking of people digging in and out, not melting in and out.”

The chunk of floor panel drops with a raucous clang, and Joker’s masked gang spray down the edges and climb up as someone shouts in the distance and keys fumble at a lock.

Gunshots, and sounds of pain.

Joker throws his head back and laughs, arms spread wide and waving, conducting a symphony of destruction.

“Get up there, you,” Flag says, nudging Joker toward the hole.

“A gal could break a nail,” Joker says with a pout.

Croc just tosses Joker over his shoulder, gives Ratcatcher a boost, and jumps straight up into the darkness.

“Such a gentleman!” Flag hears Joker say.

“I could be taking a nap in my cell right now,” Lawton grumbles, but climbs up.

By the time Flag gets through the hole, Joker’s people have fanned out and the man himself is hunting through boxes of personal items, apparently with a very specific list in mind.

~Cameras are about to go down,~ says Harley.  ~It takes three minutes for the system to reset.  They’re on the same system as the cell doors for Intensive Treatment, so we’ll give you exactly five minutes to get everything open before we bring ‘em down again to get out.  Synchronize watches or whatever—radio silence starts now.~

“All clear for now,” says Lawton.  “It takes just under three minutes for the higher-end security staff to gather and deploy, so the timing should be about perfect.”

“Assuming nobody spotted us earlier,” Joker puts in.  “Mm, love a good ambush…”

Out in the corridors, lights and sirens are going off.  They make it up the stairs without seeing any new guards.

Croc and Ratcatcher take down the two guards controlling the airlock into Intensive Treatment and get the doors working (after some minor bickering about how to work the controls).  Joker’s people stay to hold the corridor against the guards that are definitely on the way.

The ominous flickering sign stares down at them as they move on toward the control booth, and Joker steps inside only to have an Eskrima rod brandished at his face.

“Joker—I should’ve known you’d…”  Nightwing trails off, looking confused.  “If you’re breaking out, how come you’re not in scrubs or a jumpsuit?”

Joker rolls his head on his neck.  “Just gimme a ten-minute head start, kid.  Or go home, either way suits me.”

“You promised Batman—”

“We’re helping Batman,” Flag interrupts.  “You’re gonna have to trust us on this.”

Nightwing crosses his arms over his chest.  “Look, I already know Batman’s in trouble; he’s been out of contact for twenty hours and he hinted at somebody trying to catch him with human bait.”

“Not a very flattering description for the love of a guy’s life,” Joker grumbles.

“You’ve got ninety seconds before the cameras reboot to explain why I should let you go.”

“Y’see, when daddies and princesses love each other—”

Lawton, fortunately, has both the balls and the sway to put a hand over Joker’s mouth and hurriedly say, “Jay was recruited to work with us in a top secret government task force in exchange for guaranteed visits with the Bat.  Turns out he was bait, now the Agency—ARGUS, that is—has Batman.  If Jay’s loose, the Bat can sit tight, but if they get him, game over.  Meanwhile, we ain’t the type to sit on our asses, so we’re breaking the Agency’s other schemes wide open.”

Nightwing nods.  “Okay.  In seven seconds, somebody needs to hit me, and make it look good.”

“Don’t look at me,” Joker says, hands in the air like he’s surrendering.  “I’m not allowed to hit birdies anymore.”

“Eh, fair enough…”  And Nightwing pins Joker to the wall with one Eskrima rod, the other poised to strike.

The control panel lights up, right on time.

Flag swings in from behind and gets him in a sleeper hold, which he fights with several uncomfortable strikes to Flag’s ribs before Lawton readies his wrist magnum.

“Stand down, boy,” he says.  “This don’t concern you.  Run on home to Blüdhaven.”

“You won’t get away with this!” Nightwing declares.  “Batman will—”

“The Bat ain’t here,” Flag says, tightening the fake hold enough to put on a good show.  The kid almost over-sells it with his swoon, but Flag thinks the cameras won’t see anything amiss.

Joker reaches over and flips all the release switches for maxsec.  A new siren adds itself to the cacophony, red lights flaring for extra measure.  He rolls his head again, eyes hooded and neck long—it’s the most predatory Flag’s seen him in a while…even more than Vinnie the smiling lookout and the fixation on Mercy Graves after.  “Bring the kid,” he purrs.

For just a fraction of a second, Flag is sure Joker has something awful planned for Nightwing.

“‘Kid,’ my ass,” mutters the Blüdhaven vigilante, still playing possum over Lawton’s shoulder.  “You’ve only been doing this a year longer than I have, asshole.”

Joker giggles in reply.

They step into maxsec to the sight of seven open doors, four bewildered inmates, four unresponsive guards (drooling and swaying on their feet), and one smug redhead.

“Good evening, gentlemen, milady,” Joker says with a flourishing bow and a tip of the stolen top hat.  “We come bearing gifts from the personal effects locker.”  He flicks the coin at Two-Face, tosses the top hat at the little guy (‘J Tetch,’ according to his shirt), and unzips the duffel with the wooden dummy in it.

“Oh, oh my,” murmurs ‘A Wesker,’ who looks like a sweet little old man.

“Thaaaat’s right, Arn,” says Joker, eyes round and metallic teeth glinting, “your old boss, safe and sound…”

A skinny guy in glasses (‘E Nygma’; Flag remembers him having that huge Rubik’s puzzle before) clears his throat meaningfully.  When Joker ignores him to gently hand over the puppet, he clears his throat again and says, “Don’t you have something for me, too?”

Joker turns, and Flag can’t see, but he knows the guy well enough now to know he’s making shark-faces again.  “Can’t fool me, Eddie,” he drawls, sidling up close.  “I know a man of your intellect neither wants nor needs the assistance of ‘a pasty poser clown whore.’“

“Naturally,” ‘Eddie’ says with suicidal bravado.

Joker grabs him in a chummy half-hug.  “Besides, I’m sure you know all about the escape tunnel.  Gun Bunny, be a doll and put Nightlight in my old room.  The Boy Blunder will be along later to let him out, and we’ll all be sipping champagne somewhere while he dies of embarrassment.  Maybe the Iceberg Lounge—I’m feeling fancy.  Run along, jailbirds…Croc will be holding the door.”

‘P Isley’ rolls her eyes.  “Come on, boys,” she tells the guards under her thrall.

The wooden ventriloquist dummy chimes in with a Hollywood mobster accent, “If it’s all the same to youse, I think me ‘n Dummy will stick around for a while.  I gotta make some guards pay for the way they treated my numba one guy.”

“Oh, dear,” says the little old man, but he seems happy enough at the proposition.

“Us, too,” says Two-Face.  “But thanks for the hand, clown.  We owe you one.”

Flag breaks radio silence to say, “Pack it up, kids, we’re on our way out.”

~Jackpot!~ Harley calls back.  ~Okay, we just wrapped up, too.  Cameras back down in sixty seconds.  Meet you at the rendezvous point.  How’s my Pammy look?~

How the hell is he supposed to answer that?  “Uh.  Judgy?  Kinda smolder-y?”

Harley giggles.  ~That’s my Pammy!~

.End.

[twstinginthewind]

A little gift...

Joker made her way up the stairs to the third floor of her dormitory, a little bag in her hands. Her eyes skimmed over the line of doors, and lit up when she spotted her target. There. She took a deep breath, stepped just in front of the door marked with a little green three-leafed clover and knocked.

"Just a moment!" Trey's voice rang out from behind the door, and Joker held the bag so tightly it crinkled in her grip. She swallowed hard, trying to relax, then ran a hand over her hair, hoping to tame any unruly curls. The door swung open, and Trey stood in the doorway, smiling gently. "Joker! This is unexpected. I would have dressed better if I had been expecting company. I was a little preoccupied with packing."

Joker looked him over; he was in dark brown slippers, plaid pajama pants, and a snug tee shirt advertising his family's bakery. "You look fine, Vice Housewarden. No worries. This should only take a minute." She felt her cheeks warming up, betraying her nerves. "I have something for you."

"Do you, huh?" He moved away from the doorway, and swept his arm towards his room. "Why don't you come in, then? I'm just organizing the last few things here."

She looked quickly up and down the hallway, then stepped inside. She always felt a little overwhelmed by the aura of maturity she felt in his room; it was nothing like the happy clutter of her buddy Cater's personal space, or the sloppy girlishness of the room she shared with her roommate. She stood by his desk as he peeked outside, looked left and right, and then closed the door behind them.

"You can sit at the desk, if you'd like," Trey said, moving aside a small stack of neatly-folded clothing to sit on the edge of the bed. "If there's anything on the chair, hand it off to me. I probably put it there while I was getting everything else together."

Joker pulled the chair out, and handed Trey the stack of papers he had left on there. "Camp Vargas itinerary, it looks like. What time do you leave tomorrow?" she asked as she sat, still holding the bag to her chest.

"Seven in the morning. I've already prepped overnight oats for breakfast tomorrow, by the way." He sighed. "The dorm'll be on its own for the rest of the week, though. Don't let anyone use the good cast iron, though, if you can."

She giggled. "I can hide it under my bed until you get back."

"I'd have to collect it from you when I need it."

"Oh nooooo, anything but thaaaat." Joker grinned at him. "You're still so worried about everyone. You should just relax and enjoy yourself for this trip!"

"I wish I could. But it's still a school event, so I'm still in Vice Housewarden mode for it."

"Trey, one of these days I'll actually see you let loose, and I don't know if I'll be able to handle it."

Trey raised an eyebrow. "I'll be sure to catch you if you faint, Jo."

She fanned herself, half-jokingly. "Promises, promises. Anyway. I don't want to hold you up too long." She held out the slightly crushed paper bag towards him. "I made you something for the trip."

"You did?" He took the bag with a softly fascinated look on his face. "That wasn't necessary... very kind of you, though! May I open it now?"

Joker nodded, clasping her hands together in her lap. "Yeah. I wanna see if you like it."

"I'm sure I will," Trey said as he opened the bag, then removed a small, soft bundle wrapped in tissue paper. "Hm? What's this?"

As he removed the paper, Joker hunched slightly and twiddled with her fingers, breaking at least two house rules. "I know it gets cold up on the mountain, and I wanted to make sure that you kept warm..."

The tissue paper drifted to the floor. In his hands, Trey held a soft, deep charcoal gray, knit cap. There was a little red patch sewn onto the brim, which he ran his thumb across, smiling faintly. "Let's paint the roses red... You really made this for me?"

"You know I started the knitting club on campus, right? I've been making these for years, but..." She shifted a little in the chair, unable to meet his eyes. "... I only ever give stuff I make to folks who are really special to me." She shook her head, and started talking faster. "Anyway it's wool so it'll keep you warm and be water resistant, but don't wash it with your regular laundry or it won't even be fit to be a tea cozy. Cold water and a little soap. Soak it. I... that's all. I won't hold you up anymore." She stood up, and nodded to him. "I'll just—"

Trey stepped over towards her, and caught her by the wrist. "Wait." He stepped in front of her, and made sure that he was in her line of vision. "I have to make sure it fits, don't I?"

Joker, cheeks burning, nodded. Trey smiled at her, and slowly pulled the hat on over his rumpled, deep green hair.

"Does it suit me?"

Joker finally met his eyes, twinkling behind his glasses. "It does. You look good..."

"Then I'll wear it proudly, all through the trip," he said simply, tugging it down a little further. "It's a good fit. You know, there's something special about a hand-knit gift. They say there's love in every stitch." He took another step towards her, close enough to feel the warmth of her blushing.

"Trey..." Joker couldn't catch her breath. She shook her head. Why did he have to say 'love" out loud like that? He was gonna give her a coronary. "... just come back safe, okay?"

"It's only camp," he murmured, taking her hand. "I'll be sure to check in. Thank you for this."

She ran a thumb across his knuckles. "You're welcome. I... I should go before anyone knows I was here."

"I'll check the hallway." Trey squeezed her hand before letting go, and stepped over to the door. He opened it slowly, and then waved her over to him. "All good."

She quickly walked over to the doorway, and paused by his side. "I'll miss you."

"I will, too. Now go and protect my good cast iron pan, would you?"

"My pleasure," she chuckled nervously, then stepped back out into the hallway.

"Oh, and Joker?"

She turned to look over her shoulder. Trey still stood in the doorway, smiling at her. "Hm?"

"... never mind," he said, but his hands said another story. He touched the center of his chest with one hand, crossed both hands across his chest, then pointed to her.

She smiled and signaled back; holding out her thumb and pinky, she waved her hand between them both. "Good night, safe travels."

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Worth The Eternity: Dark! Bucky x Reader (Vampire AU + Mob AU + Soulmate AU)

This is for @cherienymphe’s 5K Twilight Renaissance Writing Challenge. Congratulations, keep slaying! I wrote this instead of studying, so pray for my paper please lmao.

A/N: This tired girl tried. 

WARNINGS: something between dubcon and noncon present. Triggering, darkish themes.

Summary of sorts: Ever seen Hotel Transylvania 1/2/3? In this AU, mythical creatures exist and have soulmates and you feel a zing if you are blessed enough to encounter them.

"Boss, we narrowed it down to these core three suspects.” A husky voice, slightly muffled by the sack on your head, entered your ears and you had a hard time being calm.

You had been picked up from your office, specifically the basement of Oscorp Industries while entering your sleek silver car. A pinch in your neck and everything comically blurred. Next thing you know, you are waking up with your entire body sore, your muscles and joints screaming and begging for freedom from tight restraints. Your vision is black, as if you are staring into an abyss and your vision is filled with white and red dancing spots forming patterns, maybe from the hours of inactivity.

Muffled noises of protest and scraping of metal against the concrete floor entered your ears and you realized you are not the only one here held captive. You racked your mind for possible explanations but couldn’t come up with one.

You lived a very simple life, even as the vice president of Oscorp industries. No messing around, no rivalries with other employees, no butting heads with the seniors on the Director’s board. Was this a ploy against the company? Or a domination statement against the weaker species, the humans?

Lucky enough for you, you realized you would soon find out as the sound of a shutter opening and metal clanking noisily filled your ears.

“Took you long enough, Scott. Fill me in.” Another brooding voice reprimanded jokingly and a million goosebumps traveled the path of your skin as you involuntarily shuddered.

“Yes Boss. We tracked the missing sum to the account of this man on the left. He has fourteen other accounts under different names and nationalities, pretty hard to trace but not impossible luckily. This proved he is shady so he’s most definitely involved.”

“This ginger on the right, he made the suspicious call with weird words so we believe he pretty much passed the verdict, calling the shots with the codewords. He has had several surgeries, his face is fucking silicon at this point but his DNA showed us his true identity, Mr. Rumlow here is the Consigliere of The Midnight Moon.”

You sat and listened, piecing together whatever you understood. The pack/mob name more than rung a bell, it scared you shitless. You were quick to catch on, realising that you were caught in an inter species scruffle.

“This shit just got interesting folks. Alright, where does Miss Sexy Legs fit in all this?”

The pencil skirt you wore wasn’t the most modest piece of clothing to exist and the spaghetti straps blouse was a bad choice considering the sheer coldness in this warehouse, the temperature only seemed to go down with the entry of your kidnappers but it’s not like you knew this was going to happen.

You could only assume with your legs on display that you were the one being sexualised and talked about.

“We are not sure about her though, that’s why I said suspects. We have proof the call was made from her phone but the videos show her lending it to a creepy stranger at a café. It might be really good acting but it’s highly unlikely. We brought her in because in the transfer of the stolen cash, her account was an intermediary but it’s a good chance that she was tricked when her phone was borrowed by Mr. Rumlow. Also, she’s a human, you see?”

If it was you being talked about, you felt a jot of relief, just a smudge because at least they were aware you weren’t involved in whatever game they were playing. That didn’t necessarily ensure your freedom, but hey, you were willing to take anything at that point.

“That’s the sweet fucking scent I keep on smelling!” The leader exclaimed as if he made a great discovery, a cure for a pandemic or cancer you’d think. His gruff voice almost had a light, cheery undertone to it, too unlike of a man who was wronged and cheated and was close to murdering someone no doubt. These mobsters are always maniacs like The Joker.

“It sucks that you brought her here. She might not be guilty, but now she knows too much. She’d make a good blood bag though. Maybe I’ll just have a taste, who knows?” The ‘boss’ made a disturbing slurping noise and your heart stopped at his words, a tear almost escaping your eye.

Discussion about drinking blood? You were most definitely in The Vamps territory, your assumption about the inter-species conflict true. You had no doubt you were the weakest in this creepy space, the frailest here, most probably the only human.

“Show me the bastards’ faces.” Like the flip of a switch, the joking man swapped his personality and all but growled. You heard the ripping of cloth and a man gagging, his shrieks muffled. Another flurry of movements and another man retching on the fabric could be heard.

“Well, hello Mr. Rumlow. I must say, brown suited you better.” A horde of chuckles made you widen your eyes, even though only black still filled your vision, as you realised there were at least a dozen twisted, sick men in the room. The fact that they were silent as fuck till now only showed you how disciplined and regimented these soldiers were.

“This one has a pretty face, boss.” You felt the sack ripped off you, and your eyes closed with the sudden flooding of the lights. Your eyes sealed due to hours of inactivity and you kept them shut, afraid to face your tormenter.

A cold hand cupped your cheek and straightened your face that was trying to hide itself in your silky locks by curling in your own neck, the cool metal of rings and insanely icy fingers chilling you literally.

“Open your eyes sweetheart.” A voice called out behind you and you gathered enough courage to face your impending doom, the air as silent as the calm before a storm.

Your orbs opened and gazed into piercing sapphire blue eyes and everything behind this chiseled face blurred. You could swear a ring of pink and red passed over his eyes and you shuddered again, getting overwhelmed due to the eye contact yourself. This wasn’t the usual anxiety you felt while meeting new people, it was somehow both a pull and a push. An inviting comforting pull and a terrifying, ‘stay cautious' push.

You, a self-sufficient woman, who had been independent for as long as you could remember, suddenly felt half; incomplete in a way that you couldn’t fathom. You felt an attraction, a tug towards the man in front of you, and the absurdity of the thoughts and emotions that popped in your brain made you heave on the gag.

Your intellect couldn’t find a reason, your view on love and romance until now completely conflicted. You believed soulmates to be separate pieces of art that complemented each other when together; then what was this broken jigsaw puzzle sentiment you were having now?

Your wide eyes somehow managed to break free of his stare, panicking and looking around to observe, which wasn’t comforting in the least as men with guns and gadgets filled your vision. You were relatively unharmed in comparison to the beaten lads beside you, one with a bruised face and the other with a bloody one.

The handsome man, the Boss’s stare didn’t leave you through the entirety of your searching around, you were sure they saw you as a scared little rabbit, waiting out its inevitable death.

“Lost in her eyes, Boss?” The sideman cracked what he believed to be the funniest joke in existence, earning laughs of the horde of the soldiers around.

 Your eyes went to the Boss’s face, surprisingly when his left your face to glare a nasty stare on his trusted man. His muscular form raised the forelimb, his hand signaling to stop, that effectively quietened the room to a pin drop silence.

With gentle fingers, the man took off your gag and yours lips quivered, throat too dry to make a noise though. You greedily gulped the air through your mouth for whatever reason, maybe just to move your jaw after hours of inactivity.

Maintaining eye contact was challenging, arduous to say the least. It seemed as if he could read you, find everything about you there is to find by studying the flecks in your orbs. His delicate hands, loosened the ties and you were now more so confused, along with the trepidation.

Just what the fuck was going on?

Bucky had almost lost hope, centuries on this planet and no one to love and cherish, no personal confidante, no soulmate. But good things take time, right? And in his opinion, best things take an eternity. He knows this now.

Expect the unexpected was the truest phrase, idiom whatever it was, in this moment. He had spent countless nights wondering about his soulmate, was she pretty? Ugly? Was she even a she or not? Dumb or witty? He made a lot of scenarios of how they’d meet, the kids, reigning together. He entertained the idea of her being from a different species, a nymph, an orc, maybe a werewolf?

And now that he found her, it was a revelation, a surprise honestly. After all optimism got evaporated, after traveling the dark tunnel for centuries literally, there she was, his beacon of light. Finding her was a wonder, and her being a human was astonishing, a possibility he somehow failed to consider, but he was over the moon cause there she was, right in front of him now. A beautiful, stunning lady in flesh and blood, human flesh and blood, with the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. His zing.

He always liked humans, apart from the similar appearances the vampires shared with them, they were always docile and accommodating. In the last few millenniums, after the mythical creatures showed themselves to the world, the humans understood their place and tier pretty early.

They were smart to surrender and be peaceful as all the species came to light, clever to know that even with less numbers they could be overpowered and bloodshed was detrimental to all involved.

He knew he would convert you soon though, your lifespan far too short for his liking, and obviously, now that he found you, you were to rule together. For Centuries.

His happiness was over taken by the realisation that you were not in the most hospitable settings, you were tied and strapped, being preyed on by his men. He made quick work of the restraints, allowing you to breathe by loosening them first. Your scared, trembling form plucked his unbeating heart’s strings, but strangely enough, his brain found amusement and he felt smug. Seeing you tied up and trembling was definitely a turn on for him, noted.

After commanding his foolish men to stop giggling, he leaned closer to you, your aura comforting and intoxicating as he smelled your hair. A divine scent, an addictive one for sure. The goosebumps on your skin confirmed the reciprocation of his connection.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you.” His husky voice, calming but imposing resonated in your ears, his hand tapping your cheek on the other side. Even though the private statement was whispered for you, the deafening silence made every person witness it.

He leaned back, his hands behind his back as he grinned, tone again light like earlier and commanded, “Get her out of here and cleaned up, tell Nat and Wanda, they’ll know what I mean. Then we’ll deal with these guys here, after the lady leaves of course. No scratch on her from this point forward or you’ll lose a limb. Proceed.”  

All three of you, the hostages were going to get ‘taken care of’ but in different ways.

It had been over twenty hours for sure, you were abducted in the early hours of the morning and now the moon was out again, like one endless night. You remember being escorted to a sleek black car; your limbs ached but you managed to keep up. You tried to keep up with the car’s turns, trying to memorize the streets but your head was pounding and eyes were blurry.

You remembered being led to a suite in an expensive hotel like ones where your conferences were held, being taken to room and given towels to clean up. You didn’t change the dress when given another, the attire being a summer dress even shorter.  A woman came a while later named Wanda who checked the forming light contusions and scuffed skin with hands so delicate, as if you were precious cargo. You were, you just didn’t know.

You didn’t eat anything they provided and after hours of conspiring and overthinking, you heard sturdy footsteps. Since your arrival, only women bothered with you, probably the ones the leader sent. But these were heavier, harder.

The door opened and you glanced up to find the leader who demanded your locking up in this fancy place, his eyes travelling on your form sat up on bed, as you mindfully pulled your skirt down. You were anxious the entire day, dreading your future but nothing was like the restlessness that ran through you in this person’s presence.

Maybe it was the fact he was a vampire, or the leader of a Mob or maybe both, but whatever it was he intimidated you, alarmed you, even though you’ve had only two encounters including the present one. You were smart to be scared, he looked at you like, like you were something to eat, your mind told you.

“Hey.” His raspy voice caught you off guard, not having heard a single syllable out of the women the entire day, your questions being ignored the entire time.

You stared at him warily. Your mind having a myriad of emotions and thoughts. You didn’t want to trigger him, besides the place being armed well, he was a vampire, a beefy one at that and you would be stupid to try anything. Shouting and making a scene was no good either, your best option being the lamest one: to talk it out. You refused to become a willing blood bag.

You let out a long sigh, surprising him somehow, “Look, I have money, resources in the business sphere, information, what do you want? I know I got caught in this by accident, but I’m willing to do a lot of things to get out. Name it and I’ll do my best.” You said with your ‘business deal’ voice, the wise, guiding leader voice from your office.

For some reason though, the man found it hilarious. He slapped his hand on his chest, his boisterous laugh echoing. It wasn’t that good a joke if he believed it to be one. Men, ever so condescending.

“Humans, ever so gluttonous. I don’t want your money, precious.” His term of endearment didn’t fall short to your ears, but you had larger things in play here than a sweet nothing.  

“I have other things to offer, name it.” Within your moral sphere, of course.

“You still don’t get it, do you? And you humans boast you have everything figured about us.”

He neared you and you leaned to the inner area of the bed, refusing to get cornered to the wall if things escalate and wanting to have the option of running away, probably in vain though. With each step he took, a new shudder ran through you because of the closing distance between your bodies, it getting triggered in unexplainable ways.

You didn’t need to say words to prompt him to explain, your scrunched eyebrows already doing that mission. “You should feel it too, you know? The goosebumps, the bewilderment in your insides, you’re intoxicated by my very presence too, aren’t you?”

The more he neared, your breaths quickened visibly, his words becoming truer. Your skin heating, mind losing a bit of consciousness. His presence didn’t affect you to this extent in the warehouse, but now? You were putty, almost incapable to think. You tried to roll over to the other side but your plan failed because he caged you with his bulky hands on your shoulder, body diagonal across yours. With how slow and out of it you were, he didn’t even need his heightened speed to trap you.

“Oh, it’s kicking in, isn’t it? The realization, the surge of love and lust? To be held and cherished and be full of me?” He smirked at your trembling form, your chest heaving and weak arms trying to push him off.

“I’ve read humans feel flushed, hot, so let’s get you out of these scraps, yes?” He slid off the thin straps while you mumbled a very unconvincing ‘stop’. Both actions were pretty pointless because he wouldn’t stop, you both knew that and also, he ended up taking the top off over your torso the normal way.

Your hands barely managed to land themselves on his wrist to pull them off, but the foolish limbs ravished in the feel of his cold skin instead. It was like a high you had never experienced and your body wanted more. It was already addicted to the feel of this stranger whose name you didn’t even know.

He unzipped the skirt, your pathetic body no longer even fighting him as he rambled on. “Among us vampires, well not much to tell but we’re all freezing cold when we find our ‘zing’. Like every normal day. Except for the inability to think and the need for their mate’s blood, of course.”

He came back up to kiss you, his body now in line with yours as one hand held your cheek and the other groped your breast. You had an out of body experience, feeling disgusted for reciprocating the kiss but also wanting more of that, more of him.

He trailed down your neck to your collarbone and you gasped for air, your thoughts incoherent. He kissed between the valley of your breasts, removing the bra sometime in between as you heaved. He wanted nothing more than to rest in those swells for an eternity.

As soon as cold air hit your nipples, one was being sucked while other was being pinched. The nameless stranger alternated between licking like a kitten and sucking like a baby on the breasts. Your rational part felt gross but the dominating side was the one experiencing delight.

He kissed down the sternum, to your bellybutton and then hovered above the thin, flimsy underwear. His hands slid down your sides, down the curve of your waist and hooked themselves at the cloth’s side, pulling them down in a swift motion.

Your legs quaked, trying to close themselves but one muscular arm on your thigh was able to hold them off, throw one away from the other. He leaned down and you were pathetically still under his muscles, your lower limbs either not daring to move or not wanting to.

You wrapped your hands around your torso to hide a bit of yourself, but did that really matter in the larger picture of the events unfolding right now?

You closed your eyes, tears already escaping since minutes ago as you tried to accept the reality of what was happening. A cold sensation on your little button caught you off guard; an infinitesimal fraction of time later, an inhale reached your ears.

You looked down, opening your eyes to find the man smelling you, his Grecian nose poking through your folds and taking in sniffs of your intimate part.

“Please sto-”      

“The scent at its source, so fucking divine. I want a taste.” With that, your sentence got interrupted by his words and then by his action as his tongue licked away. It sucked on the bead, delving in the cavity there pretty fucking deep and he slurped away like he pretended to do when you were blindfolded.

Your back arched like a gymnast, hands that were folded across your chest clawing at your own skin, leaving marks behind. His hands were hooked around your thighs and they threw your legs on his shoulder some point in between. When he thrusted three fingers at once, an audible wheeze left your lips, your noiseless gasps now hoarse ‘Aah’s and you could feel him smirk.

There a also a lot of teeth involved with his razor sharp canines that appeared out of nowhere during this and when he thrusted his fingers particularly hard with his teeth nibbling on your sensitive bud, you shamelessly let go of the inside flow.

It felt humiliating and mortifying, your body glowing with the aftereffects of descending into bliss while your mind wanted to cry. Your soul was surprisingly content with what unfolded, at peace. You hated the diversity of emotions you felt, revolted to find even a bit of positive sentiment at your assaulter’s actions.

While your inner monologue happened, the man got up and out of his clothes painfully quick. You tried to sit your up, feebly trying to escape but ineffectively so. Your eyes couldn’t meet the handsome stranger’s nor did you want to see him naked and removed him form your eyeline, making you get caught off guard when his hands wrapped around your ankles and pulled you down, finishing the small distance you managed to crawl up.

His hands left their place as he kissed his way back up your flushed skin, from the swell of your ankle to the swell of your stomach. He licked away the drops of blood around the crescent scratches left by your nails under the intense ecstasy he forced upon you. Then he continued his journey from the swells of your chest to the swell of your cheek, taking you in a fiery, needy yet affectionate kiss.

Your surroundings blurred a second into the kiss, mouth and skin hungry for his touch alike. A thrust had you painfully gasp as you were stretched unlike ever before, impaled to a depth unlike ever before. He kissed away your tears that continued to spill on command of your ashamed mind and leaned back to look into your eyes, a pretty pink passing over them for a fleeting second.

His blue orbs bore into yours and you almost believed he loved you by the intensity of his gaze. At this moment in time, nothing but you two mattered, connected and finally together. How you got here didn’t matter, how unwilling you were didn’t matter. This felt right, felt necessary and was worthy of everything you went through. The rational part seemed to die the instant you two physically connected and somehow, everything and nothing made sense.

But you felt complete.

Your lips captured his of their own accord, and you both smiled into the caress of your lips while he began thrusting, one hand on your waist, the other supporting his weight. Out of breath, he leaned back, still thrusting though, and gazed at you. “Scott back there, he called you pretty, that’s practically an insult. The way you look right now, you’re much more than beautiful. You’re ethereal, my Zing, the loveliest in existence.”

His genuine words tugged at your heart. For some reason you believed him, had confidence in his feelings. Your foreheads connected as he quickened, his hand caressing your skin, the cool against your warm skin soothing. It didn’t take long for you to let go again this time; your previous resolution already dissolved. He neared your ears and whispered, “I want you to scream my name. It’s Bucky.” You nodded absentmindedly, chasing the high.

One particular thrust paired with his canines piercing your skin made you cry out “Bucky!” and you felt him smirking in your neck, lapping the blood. You wilted in bliss and your eyes closed, warmth filling you minutes after. Your eyes were dazed and you felt ‘Bucky’ shift, removing his towering frame from you, a goofy smile on the chiseled face.

With mind free of the aforementioned disapproving thoughts, you checked out his handsome face. It was like you saw him in an entirely different light now.

He gave you a quick peck, his hands cradling your face and he spoke with the utmost sincerity. “You are worth the wait, precious. No measure of time with you will be long enough. But we’ll start with forever to compensate. I’m never letting you go.”

[chiwhorei]

the devil makes

pairing: benimaru shinmon x reader x joker/52

genre: smut, 18+ minors dni

word count: ~2.2k

tags: a touch of branding (he flicks his cigarette at you i just really don’t know how else to tag it), knifeplay (except it’s a playing card, only a smidge of blood), rough oral, face fucking, voyeurism, spit, anal, double penetration, degradation, spanking, belly bulge, it’s a little dubconny but not really?

a/n: my first full fire force piece woot woot! these two characters make me so fucking horny and when they shared the screen my pussy was completely inconsolable. thank you @messwriting and @10millionyearsdungeon for looking over this and always encouraging me.

hymn: wrong by MAX ft. lil uzi vert

you, and me, and the devil makes three.

“Why don’t you cut the shit and tell me what you want,” you pluck the cigarette from your caller’s lips, he presses his saccharine smile down at the edges to feign a pout.

You know better by now. Your legs hang on either side of Joker’s hips, his white dress shirt doing almost nothing to cover skin filled with a new flight of bites and bruises. The last set had just faded when you heard the tell-tale knock at your front door.

His timing is always impeccable, hat in hand and dipping under your doorway just as the wanton throbbing sizzles into a dull ache.

Deeply inhaling, nicotine breaches your throat and prickles past your lungs. You only ever smoke when he’s around. At this point, you’re not sure if it’s a necessity or a habit.

“Do I need a reason to visit my favorite girl?” His voice trails around your skin in tune with a wandering set of hands. It’s infuriating how easily your body relents to Joker’s fingerprints. You’ll feel them like scorch marks for days to come.

“I’m not your girl and I doubt I’m your favorite.” You bush off his quip, cigarette bobbing in your teeth before he pulls it from your mouth to drag. With a flick of his finger, ash falls like burning snow onto the juncture of your collarbone. You wince and fall forward into his chest.

“You’ve proven yourself the most useful, is that better?” Joker pulls you into a searing kiss, pushing tongue and smoke into your awaiting mouth.

“At least it’s more honest.” Joker laughs loudly, his head falling back against the mattress. Your pillows will smell like sage and campfire, you’ll pretend it doesn't lull you to sleep.

“I need your help to, achem, seal a deal of sorts. For the greater good of course.”

Eyes roll upwards, first with guffaw, but any argument melts with the feeling of his lips on a warpath from the angle of your jaw to the swell of your breast.

Joker promises to make it worth your while, in the ways you always seem to let him.

Against all better judgement.

* * *

“Well, Captain,” Joker presses a sharp ace against the curve of your collarbone, leaving a trail of crimson in its wake, “she’s a pretty little toy ain’t she?”

Pleasure coats your tongue, it tastes like blood and incense.

In the short time they’ve been acquainted, Benimaru has learned to be unsurprised with any impromptu meetings Joker could plan.

What Beni wasn’t expecting was your naked, flushed body on the lap of his new associate. He wants to complain about the purple eyed almost-stranger sitting in his private quarters, but any argument flounders for air as soon as you come into view.

You seem completely placid from your position against the anti-hero’s chest, awaiting further instructions with glassy eyes. Any shame you could ever muster lies in a heap of fabric six feet away. Joker always dresses you in something easy to tear off.

“You sure do make an interesting first impression, Joker.” The 7th’s captain walks forward in the dimly lit room, pushing his fingers against your hair and pulling back roughly to steal your undivided attention.

A pretty little toy indeed.

“We’re partners now, Beni,” you can feel Joker’s voice like honeyed venom from behind, every syllable drips against your shoulders, “and partners share.”

Joker flicks the playing card upward, twirling it in deft fingers. You watch his dexterity, the piece of glossy paper is pressed to your lipstick, dragging your bottom lip down slightly before pulling away. A signature painted in soft pink.

The hand on your hip, the one in your hair-- the feeling of two bodies enclosing on you like prey is overwhelming and salacious.

“Does he bring you to do all of his dirty work?” You’re spoken to for the first time, the grip in your hair lifting you from Joker’s lap.

“Only the dirtiest work suits me,” you hold your ground, voice dropping an octave to make both men shudder, “captain.”

Benimaru’s sneer is only an inch from your mouth, his proximity neering closer with every word falling past your lips. If you keep talking like this, Joker won’t want to share his toys anymore.

Pointer finger and thumb come up to cradle your chin, mouth parting with the smallest pressure. Your tongue lulls out slightly, an invitation punctuated with your eyes flitting from his stare to the deep set frown across his face.

The sound of Beni spitting hits your ears, the harsh put bounces against the bannisters. Warmth runs in an indecent trail from the tip to the fattest plane of your tongue.

“Don’t play coy, sweetheart, show ‘em what else you can do with that mouth.” Joker’s palm comes down on your ass cheek hard, a breathy yelp escapes to be swallowed by the man above you.

Beni moves to perch against the desk centered in the ever-condensing room, arms folded across his broad chest. The space feels cold without the body heat you had been stuck in between, you feel exposed fully for the first time since Joker snuck you into company seven.

There’s only a beat of self-cognizance before you’re pushed to the ground by a familiar set of calloused hands. You need no further direction, knees and palms straining against the hardwood as you inch forward.

By the time you’re kneeling in front of Benimaru, his cock is in a tight fist. He pumps himself in long strokes, smearing pre with his thumb to coat the throbbing head. His length is impressive, you can feel saliva pooling in under your tongue as you watch his hand move from base to tip.

The sight almost has you forgetting your manners.

“Will you fuck my mouth, Captain Shinmon?” There’s very little restraint left available behind his icy red irises. Joker sits back in the brown leather chair, a front row seat.

You feel the familiar burn against your scalp with Beni’s searing pull. The red tip hits your mouth and you’re positive a streak of lipstick finds home against your chin.

You’ll be covered in much more before the sun comes up.

His cock is heavy as pushes past your lips inch by thick inch. The groan ripping through your throat is vibrato against the ribbed skin.

“Wow, ah, your sweet little throat was meant for cock wasn’t it?” Tears prick in your eyeline, your vision growing bleary as you swallow. A stray streak of mascara falls down the curve of your cheek before Beni swipes it away. You almost blush. Almost.

He hits the back of your throat with seemingly little effort, you sputter slightly at the burn, your jaw aching to accommodate. Just as you feel him pulling almost all of the way out, Beni slams the full length in again. His pace is brutal and unforgiving. Each thrust earning a new mess of spit and makeup to collect at the edges of your mouth.

“No need to be gentle, Beni, she’s taken a whole lot worse.” You would laugh at the sick curl of Joker’s words if you could. The implication is both irritating and worrisome.

“As much as I would love to cum in that pretty little mouth,” you gasp for air as Beni pulls you off, a thick line of slobber still connecting your bottom lip to his cock, “I really want to feel your cunt wrapped around me instead.”

You hear the sound of Joker’s heavy feet closing in from behind, his grip on the back of your neck to hoist you back up to your feet.

“Partners share, remember?” The lilt in your pursuers voice is sweet in the way sugar free gums rots your teeth. Joker will break you into pieces for the greater good.

It’s sick, absolutely disgusting, how much you crave your own destruction.

“She’s nice and ready for you, captain. Feel how dripping wet she is just from sucking your cock.” His next words suck all of the oxygen from your lungs, he replaces air with tension,

“You can take her cunt, I’m going to fuck her tight little ass.”

“Wait I--” There’s no use pleading, there’s no use in anything but quiet compliance and resolving to the fate of being stuffed completely full.

Four hands are on you, groping the fat on hips and breasts, moving against the pliant skin in tandem. You’re malleable in their hold, hoisted up in Joker’s arms. His grip is unforgiving, crescented bruises are bound to form and be visible for days to come on the inside of your thighs.

Beni captures your lips between his teeth, stealing back your attention with a growl. His kiss is searing, tongue slipping to lash against your own. The stubble grazing his strong jaw is dizzying, he whispers against your lips, licking against your pre-stained mouth. Quiet enough to be either missed or ignored by Joker as he busies himself freeing his cock and grinding itn against your ass.

“Next time I’ll sit you on my face and we can have a little fun one-on-one.” Beni punctuates his promise with a nip to your bottom lip before his hands move to steady you snugly in between two wide chests. His palms rest on the dips of your hips, thumb jutting out to press tightly against your aching clit. The movement rips a hoarse wale from deep in the back of your throat.

“You always cry so pretty, dollface.” Joker’s emboldened by your tears, an invitation to push you farther, you feel two fingers prodding your asshole, using your own slick to assist in his exploration. The sensation is painful and addicting as both digits push past the tight ring of muscle.

His fingers move to work the taught hole open, each ridge of knuckle and callus blurring the line between torment and pleasure. Beni circles your clit, picking up in pace as Joker adds a third finger, the stimulation hurtling you towards orgasm. A litany of please scratch at your throat, begging your captors to steal an orgasm from the pile of shaking limbs in between them.

“Cum, little one, cum so I can fuck this tight little cunt of yours.” Beni’s voice is unmistakably demanding, there’s not a note of suggestion behind his words. Your first orgasm snaps against you like electrocution, buzzing around every nerve.

“That’s my girl,” Joker snickers, feeling the contraction and loosening of your muscles. Your high is the final submission, willing every part of you how they see fit. Little more than a toy, a pawn in a broader game of chess.

“Are you ready for us?” Beni’s voice is framed in question, but you know better than to take it as anything but rhetorical. It doesn't actually matter whether or not you’re ready. What matters is the squeal of pain and temperance that comes from breaking you.

Before you can even nod in agreement, you feel it. The burning fullness, the sealing of a deal between two men that you happen to be placed right in the middle of. Joker’s cock is hot and heavy, sheathing himself in the last plane of virgin flesh. The piercing on his frenum drags against you, a familiar feeling in the most unfamiliar place.

There’s no time to get used to the sensation as Beni is pulling you forward slightly so your weeping pussy is hovering over his length. Your legs dangle, suspended on either side of his forearms. You’re lowered onto the captain, his pace is remarkably gentle as your pubic bone meets the sprawling expanse of wirey hair nestled between his hips. As your skin meets on either side of your weeping body, both cocks sheathed completely inside, the canter of either man picks up brutally.

The sticky feeling of sweat and arousal covers every inch of skin in the room, partnering with the sound of slapping and thrusting that all but drowns out the pathetic whimpers your suspended form can muster.

“I knew you would make yourself useful, doll. My favorite game to play.”

Your head falls forward against Beni, body growing heavy as the merciless, rhythmic thrumming of your abuse. The dull ache of another orgasm drips into your bloodstream. Your abused bundle of nerves become live wires, sparking against Joker’s wandering fingers as they wrap around your front.

“I can feel it, ya’ know, I can feel myself in your stomach.” His taunt is stressed with his palm pressing down against your abdomen before dipping back down once more to pinch your clit.

His rough treatment is the final straw, you scream and cuvulse in the hold of your predators. You squeeze tightly in a succession of muscle spasms that feel like you’re trying to milk both of their own orgasms to crash with your own.

Thick spurts of cum spill into you with a series of deep, final thrusts. You feel your own wetness as it runs down your thighs and ass. Muffled groans from both men fill the stale air as they claim your holes. There’s nothing left in the space between bodies except you caught in the web of spiders, dangling in silken limbs and labored breathing. There’s nothing left to give or take.

There’s nothing but panting and sweat and a deal with the devil.

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

[cheri-translates]

[CN] S2 Gavin and MC in Chapter 16

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers from Season 2 🍒

Highly recommend to read a summary of events prior to this in the plot review!

After the fog disperses in Loveland City, the Hunter Game seems to be discontinued

However, MC notices many coordinates moving on an island south of Loveland City called “Small Rock Reef”

She suspects that "Humans” who were caught by “Ghosts” during the Hunter Game were sent there and are trapped

Since the island is inaccessible across the sea, she heads to STF to seek assistance

There, she bumps into a familiar face, Tang Chao:

Tang Chao tells her that Lu Yi (whose Evol is gathering and transmitting data) noticed abnormal Evol energy fluctuations and an increasing number of people on the island. Because of poor signal and the fog, STF didn’t have the time to send anyone over

When the signal eventually returned, Gavin dropped by STF and decided to go to the island by himself, suspecting that the island is an important factor in the Hunter Game

Lu Yi was also sent to the island, so the both of them are currently there

At this moment, Gavin contacts the STF and gives a report on the situation: 1942 people are trapped, 284 are injured. The arena is underground and there are no exits. Since the arena is surrounded by water, they can’t break down the walls by force. Gavin suggests that they use Evol to carry out the evacuation. Even though there’s no poisonous fog, there’s insufficient oxygen

Gavin asks Dai Yue (whose Evol is creating passages between two points) and Tang Chao to head over to assist in distributing supplies and assisting with the evacuation

At this point, MC speaks up and makes her presence known:

MC: I can help too.

The earpiece goes quiet for a moment. Then, Gavin’s confused voice drifts over.

Gavin: ...MC? You’re in the STF?

Gavin seems very surprised to hear my voice. I shoot a meaningful glance to Tang Chao.

MC: I happened to investigate leads related to the Small Rock Reef, and came to STF to report it.

Gavin: You...

Gavin seems to hesitate. In that moment, a small chink seems to appear in his solid armour.

As though he realises something, he swallows the words back into silence, taking a deep breath.

Gavin: The situation here isn’t as simple as you think. You don’t have experience in rescue operations, so I wouldn’t recommend you to come.

MC: But you just said that there are “many people trapped”, and it’s a part of the Hunter Game. The mastermind is very dangerous. I just experienced the game in its entirety, and many doubtful points in the Hunter Game are hidden there. Aside from helping in the rescue, I have many things to tell you “in person”.

I pause, then continue softly.

MC: You should have found... “something special” there, am I correct?

Gavin’s breathing halts for a moment, and I know that my guess was correct.

Perhaps the thorn-covered “8″ symbol representing the Lighthouse is there.

Gavin: You know what it is?

I glance around the meeting room. Information regarding the Lighthouse hasn’t been verified. Hence, it isn’t appropriate to announce it publicly, and should be told to Gavin directly.

If I were to verify it only after the rescue, it’d be troublesome for both me and Gavin, who has been temporarily relieved of his duties.

Since the situation is already under control, verifying the state of affairs there while assisting in the rescue is the best choice.

MC: I can only give you an answer after I see it. Gavin, I can help you. I definitely won’t cause trouble.

Gavin seems to sense that I’m hesitating to say something. After a moment of silence, he sighs softly.

Gavin: Tang Chao, retrieve the communication earpiece from before, then give her some of the lighter self-defence equipment.

-

Tang Chao notifies Gavin that STF received a warning from “the other side” - which turns out to be NW - that they will handle the situation on the island and prohibits STF from going near

Gavin doesn’t care LOL

After the call, Tang Chao prepares the inventory:

MC: Tang Chao, isn’t Gavin currently relieved of his duties? You...

Tang Chao: Are you asking why we’re still following Captain Gavin’s commands?

I nod, watching as Tang Chao quickly makes an inventory of the supplies in the storehouse, turning his head.

Tang Chao: I don’t know about others, but to us in the Special Operations Team, Captain Gavin is Captain Gavin. It has nothing to do with whether he’s relieved of his duties or not.

While saying this, he lifts a gigantic box, his tone resolute yet casual, as though he’s talking about a completely ordinary fact.

Tang Chao: Also, he’s definitely not resting even though he’s been relieved of his duties. He simply worries even more. It’s best for him to return to the team sooner.

Hearing Tang Chao’s grumbling, I can’t help but laugh despite the tense situation.

-

Dai Yue creates a passage and they head towards the underground arena in the island. MC notices a bunch of people curling up and trembling while staring in a certain direction:

Just as I’m about follow their line of sight and look over, a shadow flies towards me at a great speed.

Instinctively, I dodge to the side. However, Tang Chao reacts even faster, rushing forward and immediately getting smashed to the ground by the shadow. 

Tang Chao: Be careful-- oof!

MC: Tang Chao! Are you okay?

Tang Chao: I’m fine, I’m fine. What’s going on?

I push aside the “shadow” which is pressing him down, and discover that it’s a person who has been beaten to a pulp.

MC: Who would be so ruthless...

Looking in the direction where the man came flying from, the weak light casts a shadow on a rugged stone wall. 

I nervously shield the fallen Tang Chao from the front, lowering myself and feeling for the tranquilliser gun I carried along with me. My hand trembles involuntarily.

??: MC?

Hearing this familiar voice makes me react instantly. 

MC: ...Gavin?

Hearing my voice, the sound of running footsteps drifts from the passageway. Very soon, a slightly fatigued face appears in my field of vision.

In that moment, I finally hear the weight in my heart falling to the ground with a thud.

The moment he sees me, his eyes immediately brighten. He takes brisk steps towards me, supporting up me by the shoulder and giving me a check over.

Gavin is completely covered with dust and ash, and his hair is a little messy.

His fatigued state further cements my guess regarding those clusters of wind in the city earlier.

Gavin: Are you okay?

MC: Are you okay?

We ask the same question in unison. In the next second, we smile while looking at each other.

Gavin: Sorry, I didn’t control my strength earlier.

MC: I’m fine. It’s all thanks to Tang Chao for covering me.

Only now does Gavin’s gaze shift to the side, and he spots Tang Chao who remains on the ground.

Gavin: Why are you still lying there? Waiting for me to help you up?

Tang Chao: Aren’t you going to ask if I’m okay?

Gavin: If your reaction is this slow again, you don’t have to stay in the Special Operations Team.

Tang Chao chokes, then shuts his mouth before getting up. Gavin doesn’t add more, and returns his gaze to me.

-

Before Gavin can continue, an electronic announcement blares, informing them that this is the final round of the Hunter Game. They can accumulate points by killing people, and those who rank in the top three will be sent to a safe place. There’s also another reminder that water surrounds the arena, so they shouldn’t even think of breaking the walls

Gavin explains what happened when he first arrived on the island: the place was in a state of chaos, and people were killing each other. He kept everything under control with this guideline: “You either forget about the rules in the announcement, or get a beating.”

Gavin orders Dai Yue to strengthen and widen the passageway, Lu Yi to gather everyone and evacuate through the tunnel in phases, and for Tang Chao to distribute supplies

MC helps maintain the order:

Gavin: You’ve grown pretty used to the pace of STF.

MC: It isn’t the pace of STF that I’ve grown used to, but the pace of Captain Gavin. After all, this isn’t the first time I’m your “team member”.

Perhaps recollecting a similar memory, the corners of Gavin’s lips hook into a small smile.

MC: Shouldn’t we follow them?

Gavin: No, we have something else to do. Follow me.

Gavin brings MC to a place with a special apparatus. The both of them surmise that this is the apparatus Joker has been using to gather Evol energy in order to unseal the Lighthouse

They decide to study it properly after the evacuation

All of a sudden, the passageway is filled with fog and everyone starts panicking:

Waving his hand, a wall of wind appears as far as the eye can see, enveloping everyone within it and separating them from the stinging fog.

This looks incredibly similar to those clusters of wind I saw on the streets of Loveland City.

I lift my head to look at Gavin. His fringe has long since been drenched, sticking to his forehead. However, his eyes blaze like torches as he observes the surroundings calmly.

Gavin: MC, stay here.

With this, he turns around and leaves the cluster of wind, vanishing into the fog.

At this moment, I understand everything.

While Gavin was controlling the chaos here, he was also constantly using his Evol to maintain over a hundred clusters of wind in the city.

But Gavin never said anything.

He has always been like this, seeing no need to explain, and seeing no need to express.

He simply grips onto his choice stubbornly, pressing forward with an indomitable will.

My heart seems to be bridled tightly by something, and I find it difficult to breathe.

A notification beep sounds in the earpiece. Gavin’s lowered voice drifts into my ear.

Gavin: Someone released tear gas, probably to control the crowd quickly. Tang Chao and Lu Yi, remind everyone to take note of the boundary, and evacuate as soon as possible. MC, tell those within the wall of wind to stay where they are. I’ll be back soon.

After straining himself to pass on the commands, he turns off the communicator, resting his hand on the cement wall of the passageway.

A heavy dizziness continuously invades his mind. Even the crevices in his bones transmit pain.

Maintaining the clusters of wind within the city and controlling the chaos here expends even more energy than he imagined. 

Gavin grits his teeth, straightening himself up, He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to remain conscious-

He will definitely not collapse here.

He spots three suspicious people. After a scuffle, one of them recognises Gavin

They are from NW, and they’re apparently here to assist in the evacuation after noticing abnormal Evol energy fluctuations on the island

However, Gavin has his doubts about their true purpose since they are too well-equipped for an evacuation mission

Gavin gets them to clear the tear gas and assist with the rescue:

By the time Gavin returns, the wall of wind is gone, and the tear gas permeating the air earlier vanishes without a trace.

I rush over to Gavin’s side, noticing the three strangers behind him.

After giving them a cautious glance, I turn to Gavin frantically, worried about his condition.

Gavin: I’m fine.

MC: I can tell when you’re lying to me.

Gavin: When did you learn Tang Chao’s Evol?

Gavin speaks in a soft voice. He can no longer conceal his fatigue, and it sprouts quietly while he leans against me lightly, letting it melt into the weight.

Gavin: I’m a little tired, but those people are here.

His shoots an icy glare at the three people at the side.

MC: Who are they?

Gavin: Have you heard of the New Weapon Project?

When I hear this name from Gavin’s mouth, I feel the tips of my fingers turning cold.

Even after such a long time, I’m unable to forget that day when Gavin was taken away by the group of uniformed men.

Neither can I stop myself from recalling that experiment he went through.

The NW organisation still exists, and there must be a special reason for their appearance here.

MC: I heard a little about them, and how their studies are highly confidential. As an organisation for scientific research, what are they doing here?

Gavin doesn’t know either, and MC recalls how NW sent an order prohibiting STF from going to the island. She finds it strange that they sent their own people instead

At this moment, new information from STF is sent into your earpiece - Loveland City is once again in a crisis. The fog has reappeared, and the Hunter Game is continuing

Meanwhile, the numbers on the apparatus continue to rise

In order to stop Joker, the both of you decide to dismantle the apparatus

NW attempts to dismantle the apparatus, but it triggers a device which Joker had prepared in advance. Poisonous gas fills the underground passageway. Even though Gavin tries to create a wind barricade, there’s too much gas coming from various places

Fortunately, NW has a conscience and assists with the evacuation

An electronic announcement blares: Due to the someone breaking the rules, the arena will be sealed up

Everyone starts panicking again, scrambling to the entrance:

At this moment, a strong gale courses through the middle of the crowd. Akin to an iron net, it “presses” everyone onto both sides of the wall.

Gavin: I’ll repeat myself. No one will die here. I won’t allow such a thing to happen. What all of you must do is trust me, and leave this place safely.

??: Why should I trust you! Will you take responsibility if I die?!

Gavin: I’ll take responsibility.

Gavin says these words firmly. In an instant, only the whistling sound of wind can be heard in the air.

Gavin: Trust me. I won’t let any of you die here. Everyone, leave one by one in sequence. Got it? If I see any actions disrupting the order, I won’t go easy on you.

Along with Gavin’s words, the wind reminiscent of an iron net disperses. Everyone is quiet, lowering their heads and waiting for the plan to proceed.

Just as Gavin mentioned earlier, fear is the fastest way to destroy order, but it’s also the fastest way to construct order.

Gavin staggers slightly. When he’s about to take a step forward to steady himself, I squeeze over to his side, bracing him just as he’s about to fall.

Gavin: !

MC: It’s okay, I’ll help you stand straight. Just lean on me.

Those amber eyes stare at me deeply, hiding all his thoughts within them.

Gavin: I’ll have to rely on you then.

At the same time, Gavin presses on his earpiece.

Gavin: Dai Yue, can the entrance of the passage be widened?

Dai Yue: I’ll give it a try.

With the effort of two Evolvers who can transfer objects, most of the people are evacuated slowly. However, I can sense that Gavin’s condition is continuously deteriorating.

Maintaining the clusters of wind has expended too much of his energy.

I hope he can leave this place as quickly as possible. But I know that he will only be at ease to evacuate only after the last person leaves.

I sigh. After acknowledging this point, I simply support him with even more strength.

Vaguely, I think about the sound I heard earlier.

Gavin: What’s wrong?

Gavin seems to sense my hesitance immediately.

MC: After that man cut the wire earlier, I think I heard another sound. It wasn’t just the emission of gas. It was the sound of something cracking.

RUMBLE--

Right after I finish speaking, a large tremor makes me almost lose my footing.

??: What is it now???

Gavin: This is bad!

Gavin quickly uses a wall of wind to encase the remaining crowd, sending all of them into the passageway with Dai Yue and the NW members.

Using the last bit of energy left in his body, he leaves us around ten metres away from the entrance of the passageway.

Gavin: Leave first...

He collapses onto the ground, as though the breath he had been holding for a very long time was finally exhausted completely.

I grit my teeth and hold onto Gavin, not letting go.

MC: I won’t abandon you!

I continuously head towards the passageway, dragging the weakened Gavin along.

Just a little more. Just a little bit more.

That large black coloured door is right before my eyes. It’s as though I can touch it just by reaching out.

In the next second, ice-cold seawater surges in violently, engulfing us instantly.

In the icy cold torrent, I grab onto Gavin tightly, spinning along with the surging water in this underground labyrinth.

The crashing barrage of seawater stirs up violent waves. I feel myself getting tossed around several times by this force. By the time I stop, I feel a little dizzy.

I struggle while swimming upwards, my arms quickly growing sore and weak.

In the icy cold seawater, all effort seems incredibly insignificant.

Just before the final wisp of oxygen leaves my chest, I halt my breathing, feeling for the portable oxygen concentrator I carried along with me.

...at the very least, Gavin has to leave this place safely.

In the dark waters, I try my best to feel for the corners of Gavin’s mouth, stuffing the portable oxygen concentrator into it.

All of a sudden, I feel the corners of my mouth being pried open by something icy cold.

MC: Mmph?!

I take a breath instinctively, but don’t get choked.

When I open my eyes, Gavin’s frantic expression crashes into my line of sight. The tips of his fingers press against my lips, and he seems to be confirming if I’m biting on the object in my mouth properly.

In the dim light, I see that the portable oxygen concentrators in our hands are on each others’ mouths.

The arms around my back tighten. I lift my head to look at Gavin, and realise that he has a small smile on his face.

The engulfing water, the dark labyrinth, bloodthirsty slaughtering, a silent scheme. All of these things make it difficult for me to breathe.

It’s been such a long time since I saw such a relaxed smile from Gavin. It’s as though we aren’t amid these dark waters, but are underneath tender sunlight.

It’s as though he has finally found an answer he’s been searching for for a very long time.

While I’m in a daze, Gavin pulls me as we swim upwards.

When we emerge to the surface, it’s as though we’ve survived a disaster. Gavin and I remove the oxygen concentrators, taking in large gasps of air.

For a moment, we look at each other, neither of us speaking. Perhaps there aren’t any suitable words which can express everything that I'm feeling right now.

In the end, I simply gather them together, assembling them into a simple phrase.

MC: Gavin, are you okay?

Gavin: MC, are you okay?

We ask each other in unison once again. The corners of our lips curl upwards, knowing the answer through a tacit understanding.

After they’ve composed themselves, Gavin gets everyone to report on their status. Tang Chao states that the evacuation was a success

Gavin tells Tang Chao and Lu Yi to meet up with them, then uses this opportunity to destroy the apparatus:

I retrieve a folding knife from my pocket, handing it to him.

MC: Gavin, even though I can’t do much, I want you to remember that you aren’t fighting alone.

Gavin seems to be taken aback for a moment. In the dimness, there seems to be faint light dancing in his eyes.

Gavin: ...I’ll remember. 

He gives me a deep stare, then re-enters the water without a turn of his head.

As promised, Gavin returns in around ten minutes.

Gavin: The apparatus happened to be right underneath us. The circuit had already been damaged by seawater, and I dismantled a few key components. Also, the people from NW are finding a way to draw out this water.

MC: That’s great...

While you’re talking, the water has already begun to recede. I release a soft sigh of relief.

Gavin reaches out, brushing aside some stray hairs sticking to my forehead, his voice softening.

Gavin: When I knew you were coming over, I was really worried at first. Now, I just feel that it’s a good thing you came.

With this, he takes a deep breath, leaning the side of his face against the top of my head.

Gavin: I’m tired. Let me rest for a while.

MC: Even though I can’t be of much help, I can be your human crutch now that I’m here, right?

Gavin: Not everyone can be my crutch.

His words are dyed with a smile. He relaxes completely, leaning against me.

Tang Chao: ...cough cough, sorry to disturb.

Gavin: Turn around.

Gavin doesn’t open his eyes nor move, but his voice is exceptionally cold.

Tang Chao: Yes sir. I’ve checked the route. Once you’re done resting, we can leave.

Gavin: If you want to run laps, just say so directly.

As the water level decreases, I’m able to step onto the ground. At this point, Gavin stands up straight.

MC notices that the number on the apparatus continues to increase. The two of them think that the collection of Evol will only be controlled if the Hunter Game is brought to a complete end

They return to Loveland City

Gavin decides to use his Evol to disperse the wind from the TV tower. He tries all sorts of methods to no avail. That is, until he creates a hurricane powerful enough to envelop the entire city

Meanwhile, MC remains below the TV tower for safety reasons. When she doesn’t hear news from Gavin after a while, she rushes up to the roof to watch as Gavin “retrieves” the thick fog, compressing it into the size of a basketball

With this, the Hunter Game comes to an end. He asks Lu Yi to broadcast his message to the public, and announces that the Hunter Game is over:

Gavin: Eli, I’ll leave the rest to you.

Eli: Got it. The reinforcement has arrived, hasn’t she?

Gavin doesn't respond. After confirming that the team members below the TV tower have properly retrieved the cluster of wind, he removes his earpiece, then reaches out to turn my communication device off.

MC: Gavin?

Gavin: It’s too noisy. Let’s have some peace and quiet for a while. Why did you run up by yourself? Didn’t you say you’d follow orders before taking action?

MC: But I also said that it’s up to my own judgement whether or not to come up and find you.

I give him a meticulous look over. The gale has caused his hair and clothes to become messy. Perhaps due to exerting too much energy, his lips have turned slightly pale.

Yet, he continues standing upright, the glow of sunset reflecting into his eyes, which seem to glisten and shine.

At this point, he no longer conceals any fatigue, displaying it before me completely.

I stand on my tiptoes, tidying the ends of his hair which have been blown messy by the wind, feeling both proud and a slight ache in my heart.

MC: Captain Gavin seems to be a little exhausted today. 

Gavin: Is that so? In that case, rest with me for a little while.

Gavin interrupts me softly, pulling me towards a wall at the corner and sitting down.

I sit beside him. The sky appears close enough to touch.

For some reason, I feel a sense of deja vu.

The roof of high school, a Ferris wheel operating at night... Along with the tender night breeze, all the memories related to him surface in my mind in fragments.

I had once received much warmth and comfort from him. When he needs me, I hope to be able to give him support. 

I scoot towards Gavin, letting him lean against me like before.

MC: Isn’t the roof a little cold, Captain Gavin?

Gavin: Mm, a little.

Gavin’s voice is slightly hoarse, but it carries within it a smile, accepting my excuse in tacit understanding.

Then, I suddenly feel a weight on my shoulder. Gavin has tilted his head over.

Gavin: Wake me up after five minutes.

MC: Okay.

I try my best to straighten up, wanting him to lean more comfortably.

The tender evening breeze blows his fringe up. Only then do I realise that there are fine beads of sweat on his forehead.

Everything that happened today has been expending him continuously.

He has been holding himself together in front of others till now. Only when the two of us are alone together can he let himself have a moment of rest like this.

Even though I know that he’s very strong, and know that he shoulders a great responsibility, there should still be a limit to how much effort he puts in.

Wiping his sweat gently with my sleeve, I realise that he has already fallen asleep.

A fierce ache surfaces in a certain corner of my heart, yet there is also a faint hint of sweetness.

I really want to tell him that he has the right to play coy and show his weaknesses sometimes.

I also really want to thank him for not hiding this moment from me.

Seeing his brows quiver slightly, I sigh quietly. In the end, I choose the simplest phrase.

MC: You’ve worked hard...

Our hero.

-

Even though Gavin told me to wake him up after five minutes, I can’t bear to do so.

The curtain of night descends. Seeing that he’s still in a deep sleep, I call Eli over to send him to the STF’s hospital.

He probably wouldn’t want many people to see him in such a fatigued state.

I guess this counts as maintaining the reputation of a certain Captain of the Special Operations Team.

The doctor does a check-up for him. Fortunately, there aren’t any major issues. He simply needs to nurse himself back to health and get more rest.

However, based on my experience, Gavin has never properly followed the advice from doctors...

As such, I decide to stay in his ward throughout the night, ensuring that he keeps the infusion bag on till all the fluid is gone.

When I wake up from a nap on the second day, a thin blanket slides off me.

I pick it up in slight confusion. When I lift my head, I meet Gavin’s eyes which carry within them a smile.

Gavin: You’re awake?

MC: Mm! Why are you up so early?

Gavin: Maybe it’s because the wind is really comfortable today.

Following his line of sight, I turn towards the window. The branches of the trees outside are swaying gently in the breeze, causing speckles of light to stir.

At this moment, this ordinary sunny day enables one to develop a sense of ease which has not been experienced in a long time.

MC: Maybe after that gale last night, grey clouds won’t draw near to Loveland City for a while. How do you feel now? Do you feel discomfort anywhere?

Gavin: Nope, there’s no need to worry.

His response is overly straightforward, which makes me suspicious. I reach out to feel his forehead.

His temperature is normal, and I heave a small sigh of relief. Just as I’m about to retract my hand and tell him have a good rest, a knock suddenly comes at the door.

Gavin: Come in.

Tang Chao: Captain Gavin, you’re awake so... early?

Tang Chao speaks while pushing the door open. When he sees me, he suddenly pauses.

Tang Chao: Ah, I’ve disturbed you again, sorry about that.

After saying this in one breath, Tang Chao shuts the door with a thud.

I glance at Gavin in slight embarrassment. He seems to have guessed this development, and his expression is the same as usual. It’s just that his tone is much icier when he speaks again.

Gavin: Tang Chao, come in. Don’t make me repeat myself.

Tang Chao: Captain Gavin, I’m not the only one here...

Gavin: All of you, come in.

Tang Chao and Eli enter the room to give Gavin updates on what happened after the fog was retrieved

The fog has been sent to be studied, but the apparatus was taken by NW. They’re still trying to locate Joker

Gavin: Anything else?

Eli: Nope. Tang Chao happens to have an itchy throat, so I’ll get him checked out.

Eli offers an obviously fabricated excuse, giving me a wink before wedging Tang Chao underneath his arm and slipping out of the ward.

The ward returns to silence. Gavin coughs softly, changing the subject.

Gavin: What are you planning to do next?

MC: Tidying up some recent work at the company, and continuing our “collaborative program”.

I wink, and Gavin nods in understanding.

Before, Gavin had asked for my cooperation in pulling the wool over people’s eyes. This way, he’d have an easier time investigating an incident related to an old ex-policeman...

Even though the Hunter Game disrupted this plan for a while, I can vaguely sense that these incidents are somehow connected.

Gavin: There are certain developments regarding that matter. I’ll find a suitable time to keep you updated.

He leaves no traces behind, scanning his surroundings. I nod, knowing the severity of this incident.

MC: But there’s something I need to follow-up on.

Gavin: What is it?

MC: Before you’re completely restored to health, you can’t sneak out of the hospital.

-

MC leaves the hospital and returns to the company

After work, MC receives a call from a member of Black Swan, and finds out that a combination of exposure to the fog and overuse of Evol could result in pathological changes in Evolvers

MC recalls the sheer amount of Evol Gavin expended recently, and decides to check up on him:

It begins to drizzle. Without any hesitation, I immediately rush towards the hospital.

When I reach the hospital, the nurse informs me that Gavin has already been discharged.

Stepping out of the hospital furiously, I take out my phone and dial Gavin’s number.

MC: Gavin, why aren't you in the hospital?

Gavin: I headed out to handle some work. I’ll be back very soon.

MC: In that case, I’ll wait for you in the hospital. There’s something really important I need to tell you.

Gavin seems to say something, but I’m unable to hear him clearly. A series of disordered sounds are suddenly at your ear. With a final “thud”, it sounds as though something fell onto the ground.

MC: Gavin, Gavin? Did something happen?

I keep calling out to him. After a few seconds, I hear Gavin’s voice again.

Gavin: Sorry. Someone bumped into my phone earlier. I need to meet someone today, so I might only return very late. I’ll contact you again when I have time another day.

Detecting his prudent choice of words, I can’t help but recall how he reminded me that his phone may have been wiretapped when we were investigating the old ex-policeman.

As such, I calm myself down before responding.

MC: Could I look for you in the hospital tomorrow?

Gavin: Tomorrow... might not be possible either. There are other developments in the matter I was investigating before. I heard from Minor that you have all sorts of work to do. Why don’t we talk about this after we’re both done with work?

Gavin says all of this in one breath, and I find it difficult to get a word in.

But it’s a fact that we’re both busy. After composing myself, I try to speak in the sternest voice I can muster.

MC: In that case, you must first promise me one thing.

Gavin: Go on.

MC: Don’t use your Evol for now. You used too much of it before, and your body might not be able to take it. I recently discovered some things. Even though it hasn’t been verified, I suspect that... overusing Evol may result in a certain deterioration of the body according to the Evol’s characteristics.

At the other end of the line, only the soft sound of falling rain can be heard. A faint sound of breathing draws near to my ears, which makes me think that-

Gavin seems to be near me.

I instinctively look up, scanning my surroundings, However, I’m unable to see that familiar figure.

Gavin: Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’ll also look into what you mentioned earlier. It’s almost time. I’ll contact you again when I’m free.

After he hangs up, I stand in place and hesitate for a while.

I keep sensing that something’s not quite right, but my train of thought is unable to latch onto anything.

I shake my head, deciding to set aside these messy thoughts temporarily.

Perhaps after that momentous Hunter Game, everyone needs some time to return to their original rhythm.

Gavin quickly leaves the crowded block, leaning against the wall where nobody is. He looks at his right hand quietly.

It was only when his phone fell from his hand earlier did he realise that changes were happening to his body.

Even though his sense of touch is still intact, a few fingers on his right hand have turned transparent.

Ever since he retrieved the fog that day, he has been feeling that something was off.

However, since he didn’t feel any pain as compared to his usual injuries from missions, he didn’t pay much attention to it.

He recalls what the girl mentioned earlier about her conjecture regarding Evol deterioration, and he furrows his brows tightly.

He told her a lie. Of course, not only then.

If he hadn’t pushed himself that day, the fog would never have been retrieved so easily.

However, from the very beginning, he was already prepared to give his all.

His phone vibrates. Gavin looks at the screen - it’s a message from the girl.

Words of concern appear on the screen, and he subconsciously thinks of the girl’s worried face.

He isn’t good at lying to her, neither does he know if his “acting” from before was enough to deceive you.

This place isn’t far from the hospital, and she could be nearby. Gavin puts on a jacket and hood, covering more than half of his face.

An evening breeze brushes past, and he lifts his hand slowly.

Faintly discernible wind gathers around him, but it disperses very quickly. Gavin purses his lips tightly, forcefully concentrating his willpower, once again trying to control the wind in his surroundings.

As though losing control, a large gust of wind carrying rain lunges towards him violently, causing his clothes to get drenched.

A few black wisps entwine around his almost vanished fingers. Gavin frowns while looking at them, then puts down his hand.

The glass beside him reflects the bright lights of the evening. Gavin tugs his hood downwards. 

His phone vibrates a few more times, and he decides to turn it off.

Then, he walks into the night without even a turn of his head.

-

[ Gavin’s Scene in Chapter 17 ]

The weather is slightly gloomy. A breeze brushes the drying pole in the courtyard, causing a few pieces of children’s clothing to flutter.

Gavin tidies the suit that he doesn’t wear often, walking into the small courtyard with slow steps.

An elderly man carries a girl off a wooden horse and back into the house. Then, he returns to the table in the courtyard, looking at Gavin fixedly.

Elderly man: Just because I agreed to meet doesn’t mean that I trust people in the STF. It happened such a long time ago. What else do you want to ask about?

Gavin shakes his head lightly.

Gavin: I’m not representing the STF, neither am I asking you to trust the STF. This is an investigation I’m conducting in a personal capacity.

The old man releases a long breath. 

Elderly man: I’ve met too many people like you. It doesn’t matter if you’re an individual or representing the STF. In the end, they end up with nothing definite. You aren’t the first person to see me, and you won’t be the last.

Gavin is silent for a moment. Then, he retrieves his gun and badge from the inner pocket of his suit, placing them on the table.

Gavin: In that case, let me be the last.

The man seems to be given a fright when he sees the gun. However, he quickly reveals a doubtful expression.

Gavin turns the gun in the other direction, the handle facing the elderly man.

Gavin: This is my gun and police badge. They are the evidence of me joining the STF and becoming a member of the Special Operations Team. I’m handing them over to you. After I ascertain the truth, I’ll use the truth to exchange them back with you.

In the icy wind, Gavin’s eyes blaze like torches, akin to a sharp blade glistening with a cold tip.

Elderly man: You’re from the STF. Why would you investigate such a thing by yourself?

Gavin: My position and the truth are two separate things. I only want the latter.

The dark coloured gun looks a little incompatible with the small table.

Lily petals quiver gently in the breeze, akin to a tottering omen.

[Trivia] Lilies generally symbolise purity and virtue, but they’re also commonly associated with funerals as they symbolise the restoration of innocence to the soul of the departed

[ MOMENTS ]

Gavin’s Post: Almost didn’t make it for a routine report. Regardless of the means of transportation, there’s always a possibility of arriving late.

MC: Is flying more reliable?

Gavin: It is, but there should be air traffic control too.

-

Gavin’s Post: Almost didn’t make it for a routine report. Regardless of the means of transportation, there’s always a possibility of arriving late.

MC: Sparky faces traffic jams too?!

Gavin: There was a car accident, and the entire road was blocked.

-

Gavin’s Post: Almost didn’t make it for a routine report. Regardless of the means of transportation, there’s always a possibility of arriving late.

MC: In that case, how did Officer Gavin manage to reach in time?

Gavin: I left Sparky in the carpark and flew over. I picked it up afterwards.

Phone calls: First ll Second

[hallowed-be-thy-username]

Ooo...can i please request Fem reader who have just been heartbroken by a one sided crush and then one day she met The Joker and he makes her forgot about her crush? Can be nsfw if u want 👀

Hello, anon! Ok so this is longer than I'd originally planned but I was having fun 😆 it’s a little story in the realm of a crackfic that I had a lot of fun with! I hope you like it!!

Self-insert, Ledger Joker x fem reader, crackfic

Word count: 2,121

Warnings: light nsfw, mentions of mild violence

Summary: Sometimes people surprise you with what they'll do when their back is up against a wall, even the Joker.

Who?

It had to happen today, of all days. You went to grab a coffee this afternoon and what did you see? The man she knew you were obsessed with had his lips on hers. Right across the street from the café, your so-called friend was making out with the guy you’ve had a crush on for years.

He was back in Gotham on a business trip. His stay would have been shorter if it wasn’t for state of things in the city for the past couple of weeks. It seemed your friend decided it was an opportunity to swoop in before you’d gained the confidence to do it yourself. But the kicker is that he’d already agreed to meet you for dinner tomorrow night on top of it. Looks like he gets around. You all had gone to the same high school years ago and things apparently haven’t changed much. Aren’t you too old for games like this? You tried not to dwell on it, you had a job to do, but it’d been burning in your stomach like caustic acid for hours now.

You resisted the temptation to text her, tell her you saw them. No, if they want to play games, you could play your own. So far you hadn’t come up with anything but the old stand-by, the silent treatment. But this needed something bigger.

Your revenge plotting would have to wait, though. A minor injury out on patrol last month landed you a position in booking at MCU just in time for shit to hit the fan. Being a Gotham police officer was nothing like you’d expected it to be. You had your sights set on helping the disadvantaged, the people who couldn’t catch a break in this god forsaken city, who fell victim to loan sharks and got stuck in an endless cycle of debt to the inexplicably powerful Mob presence here. But the amount of red tape and corruption making that hopelessly impossible was enough to make you resent your decision in the first place. By now, you were one drug possession arrest away from never coming back.

Today, however, had taken an interesting turn. Your eyes were glued to the tv screen in the front office where live coverage of the SWAT team’s descent on the Pruitt building captured everyone’s attention. Some were optimistic about it, but most of the talk around MCU was skeptical. “If he’s gotten out of it before, he can do it again.”

But they got him. Back up teams raced out of the precinct and everyone scrambled with nervous excitement to carry out preparations for his arrival.

You weren’t here the last time the Joker had been brought in. You were off duty and you’d found yourself feeling a little jealous that you weren’t. He was all Gotham talked about, particularly around here. You weren’t sure how many times you’d seen his face by now. That face. There was something about the way he looked into the camera, it sent a tingle down your spine. It was a strange mixture of fear and fascination. It left you feeling conflicted, uneasy from the butterflies it stirred in your stomach, like you shouldn’t get this kind of excitement from it, a little spark of thrill you’d managed to keep suppressed.

But that spark was growing dangerously hotter now that you knew he’d be coming here, so soon, nonetheless. You had to keep your composure. The excitement was enough that you’d almost forgotten the betrayal you witnessed this afternoon… almost.

Your heart pounded as you approached the booking office, the sound of shouts and cheering echoing through the halls. What was he going to be like? Would he be angry? Was he going to take an officer hostage like last time? What if it ended up being you? You tried to take a deep breath, fighting the shaking of your hand as you reached for the door handle before carefully opening it.

You froze just past the doorway, letting it shut behind you. He was so… tall. He stood behind the intake desk, at least several inches taller than the SWAT officer removing the cuffs from his wrists behind his back. His expression was blank, casually watching the officers try to do their job while looking like their nerves were about to snap, avoiding touching him as much as they could.

“One move and I won’t hesitate to shoot you,” one officer said, doing his best to keep his voice from cracking.

The Joker didn’t say a word. He just flicked his tongue over his lip and lazily rolled his eyes. Butterflies fluttered into your throat and you fought to swallow them down. You had to try to relax, you can’t let him get to you. Of course, that’s easier said than done, his presence alone was enough to ignite an oddly alluring anxiety within you.

The awkward silence was broken when the on duty detective voiced his intolerance for that kind of behavior before noticing your arrival.

“Nice of you to join us, officer.”

All eyes landed on you, including his. You couldn’t breathe for a moment. That feeling that you got when you saw his picture was nothing compared to the intense wave of adrenaline that struck you like lightning, leaving you in a cold sweat as his eyes connected with yours.

You tried to maintain a professional demeanor, but you couldn’t hide the way color drained from your face as you slowly approached him. Just breathing took an immense amount of concentration. So much that you didn’t hear the detective giving you the case number to record before beginning the booking process.

“Officer! I’m speaking to you!”

You jumped and broke your gaze away from Joker’s dark rimmed eyes to quickly grab the form as the detective mumbled under his breath. Your hand was shaking again as you tried to breathe normally and recorded the number then in the next line, “Name, Unknown. Alias, The Joker.”

A shiver trickled its way down your back as you could feel eyes on you again and you looked up from the form to see him carefully watching you. Your breath hitched and you quickly tore your eyes away to stare at the form as heat bloomed in your cheeks. This couldn’t be happening. You’d been avoiding talking with anyone about him for weeks and no matter how much you denied it, now you knew why.

The other officers took his long purple coat and suit jacket off of his shoulders, removing a variety of knives from his clothing before turning him around to face you. You kept your eyes down, taking the cuffs from your belt to hold them in your hands, ready to place them on his wrists. A knot has tied itself around your insides and grew tighter the longer you stood there and stared at his hands, stained with traces of white, black, and red paint. Your face burned hotter, and your heart pounded relentlessly in your throat, but you had to try to remain calm. If you kept showing them how nervous you were, you’d be booted off of the case and another officer would take your place. This was pure torture, but you still didn’t want that to happen.

You were surprised by a need for more. He already had you trapped in this confusing push and pull to give in to the unusual attraction you had to him even though you knew it was wrong. It had taken you this long to realize that was it. A deep seated attraction had been sitting in the back of your mind and now it was rapidly taking over your body.

Goosebumps prickled your skin when your fingertips grazed his bare wrists, clicking the latch on the cuffs in place. This was like nothing you’d ever felt before, the rush in your veins, the heat in your stomach. You managed to keep the exhilaration spreading through your body from boiling over as you lead him to the line up wall for his intake photo.

He stood in front of the digital camera, holding the placard displaying his alias with the date and case number, his green hair swept hastily out of his face and infamous greasepaint smeared wildly. When you looked at the screen to capture the image, the knot in your belly unraveled. His gaze focused directly up into the camera lens and straight at yours, the corner of his scarred mouth tugging into a smirk. Your heart pounded in your ears and you could feel yourself shudder as rational thought slipped away, drowned out by a pervasive impulse. You knew he was dangerous, of course, and you couldn’t explain it but, you didn’t care. The fire he’d ignited within you was in control now.

A nervous buzz spread from your hands and down your arms before you looked up from the screen to meet his gaze, returning a subtle smile. Joker lifted his eyebrow and his grin stretched across his face until the other officers approached and he let it fall with a swipe of his tongue across his lip. That was all it took. You let those tempestuous flames engulf you and now you weren’t going to do anything to stop them.

Everything felt slowed down, like you were dreaming, feverish with this sudden and powerful desire when you kicked the door to the private search room open, pulling him inside with you and locking the door. You had precious few minutes before they’d find you. You quickly unlocked his handcuffs and spun around to put your back against the door, gripping the lapels of his vest when you stopped and stared up at his face as your stomach dropped. Why did you just do that?

But the feeling of regret didn’t last long. A low chuckle rumbled in Joker’s chest before he leaned on his hands, placed against the door on either side of you and brought his face inches from yours. Your breath huffed over his lips and the familiar feeling of arousal swelled between your legs as you felt his heat wash over you.

“Needed somewhere, uh, private to perform your search, officer?”

His lips hovered over yours as you smiled and answered softly, “I figured we’d start with the oral cavity search.”

His giggles were muffled when you crashed your lips into his, surrendering to the spontaneous and intense lust you found yourself swimming in. Your heart soared when he kissed you back, raising the intensity and allowing your tongue into his mouth as his hands moved to grip the sides of your face and your eyes fluttered closed.

He hummed when you wrapped your hands around his neck to lace your fingers in his hair and pressed your body against his. You could feel his size beneath the fabric of his pants and your breath hitched. This was one of those moments that didn’t feel like it was really happening, but it was. His hands slid down your sides to grip your waist and your mouths separated to catch your breath.

His eyes traveled up and down your body before another devious smile sent a shiver down your back.

“You. How about you come with me, hm?” he said, his eyes flickering to the gun in your belt.

Your stomach fluttered and you stared back at him, flinching when fists started pounding on the other side of the door and voices shouted. You shouldn’t trust him, you knew you shouldn’t. But trust hasn’t gotten you much in the past, has it? Besides, you didn’t have to trust him. Whatever happens is going to happen at this point so you might as well enjoy the ride. You’d already let it go this far. You swallowed your nerves and nodded, holding on tight to his shoulders.

Another chuckle made you bite your lip before he leaned in and purred in your ear, “Follow my lead, doll.”

You straddled his lap in the back of an unmarked van speeding down the street only moments later, his tongue in your mouth as your hands slid down his torso to the button on his pants. Was he always this lucky? Or did he know this would happen all along? Of course, this was a crazy thought but nothing that had happened today was sane. He held your own gun to your head and made his escape like it was planned that way. Either way, you’d easily forgotten all about the betrayal that felt so insignificant now.

In fact, tomorrow you’d receive a text from the traitor herself bragging to you about hooking up with your now former crush and your response, short and sweet, was “who?”

Taglist! @youmaycallmebrian @heavymetalnarwhal @neverputsaltinyoureyes @jokersqueenofchaos @into-crazy @killingjokee @astheworlddturns @jslittlebirdie @drreidsconverse @vipervixxen

[yoontopia]

𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗶𝘁𝘆 | 𝗷𝗷𝗸

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: detective au; fluff, a smidgen of angst, childhood friends to lovers

rating: 18+ (mentions of assault, domestic abuse and suicide; minor character death, serial killers are mentioned, minor mention of alcohol and weapons, most likely an inaccurate portrayal of policework)

word count: 7.7k

summary: when a case forces you to re-visit your hometown, you’re also forced to re-visit your past and one particular jeon jungkook, your childhood friend, and the man you’d fallen in love with -- while he’d been been engaged to someone else.

author’s note: whew this is me coming back to writing for the first time in a WHILE.  happy (belated) birthday jungkook! I’m sorry for being 8 days late T_T

The first thing you do when you get into work is make coffee. The lieutenant has recently invested in a rather pricey looking coffee machine after giving the entire team a loud and exasperated lecture about “leaving the precinct to take too many coffee breaks”. You can’t say that you complain about this new arrangement.

The second thing you do when you get into work is check the files on your desk. It is when you’re rifling through these, a mug of steaming black liquid next to you, that your partner slaps another folder on your desk.

“What is this?” you ask, looking up at his tired demeanour. Min Yoongi is an excellent detective, but talent and success come at a price. You don’t think the man has ever gotten a good night’s rest.

“A 16-year old girl found murdered by the piers in Busan,” Yoongi says, pulling the chair from the empty desk next to you and subsequently collapsing in it. “The fishermen found her early this morning.”

“Busan?” you ask, the name of your hometown heavy on your tongue. “What business does that have with the Seoul Major Crimes Unit?”

“It becomes our business when you see how she was killed.” Yoongi states, leaning forward and flipping open the file for you. You look down at the medical examiner’s report, light finally shedding on your situation.

“Legs and hands tied with plastic cable ties, throat slashed, face carved into a permanent mangled grin – its Him. The age and description of the girl match with his previous victims and Busan PD asked us to come down since we’re handling The Joker’s case.”

“Don’t call him that,” you snap. “What did I tell you about enabling him?” Yoongi shrugs, leaning back in his chair.

You stare back down at the photos of the crime scene, your brain trying to piece together the information. This particular serial killer – nicknamed The Joker by the general public for the way he dismembered his victims’ faces – had been at large for a couple years now and had murdered five young girls. Well, you muse, the count is up to six now.

“He’s never struck outside Seoul before,” you murmur. In your periphery, Yoongi nods, taking a sip out of his own coffee. “This is so out of his way. Are we sure its not a copycat?”

“I considered that,” he says, twiddling his thumbs. “The lead detectives in charge of this case want us to check it out and see if we can figure out of it’s the real deal. If it is The Joker, the case is ours anyway.”

“I know some cops in Busan,” you say, closing the file. You had grown up there and worked there before transferring. “Who’s in charge?” Yoongi stares at you before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a slip of paper with names scribbled on it.

“Let’s see—the man who called this morning – a Kim Taehyung – do you know him?” You blink.

“Yeah, we-we went to college together,” you say, your voice suddenly hushed.

“Aw that’s cute, a little reunion,” Yoongi grins but then studies your expression. “Is it not a happy occasion?”

“No no,” you laugh weakly. “Taehyung is fine – great actually! He’s good at what he does too. I’m grateful he’s in charge of this one.”

“Great, we leave tomorrow first thing,” Yoongi says, electing to ignore your high voice and nervousness. “I got us KTX tickets for the first train out.”

You nod, swallowing. Kim Taehyung isn’t the problem, it’s who he’s partners with that has your stomach in knots.

Your train pulls into Busan at a very early hour that even coffee can’t fix. You heave your duffel bag over your shoulder and wait for Yoongi to grab his before stepping off onto the platform. Yawning, you look around.

The dawn has left behind a slight fog around the city and the morning October air has a slight chill in it. You haven’t been back in Busan since the day you left, some two years ago. Your parents had moved to Seoul recently, taking with them the only reason you’d ever have to visit this seaside city.

Yoongi hops off the train next to you and looks around. He’s a Daegu native, but knows this city like the back of his hand.

“I booked us a hotel near the crime scene,” is the first thing he says.

“That’s not morbid at all,” you chuckle, and he rolls his eyes. “But first I’m guessing we head straight to the precinct?” Yoongi nods and the two of you opt to share a cab instead of taking the public transport.

Before you know it, you’re getting off at the police department. Two officers at the entrance have been alerted of your arrival and show you the way. Yoongi shoots you a surprised look, but you grin back. Busan has always been known for its friendly and amicable citizens.

When you enter what is obviously the homicide department, Taehyung is the first person you see. He shouts your name from across the room, turning several heads, and bounces towards you like a golden retriever reunited with its long-lost owner.

“That is Kim Taehyung?” Yoongi asks and you’re not sure if he’s impressed or disappointed.

“Its so good to see you!” he says, a boxy grin painting his face. You take him in. Taehyung hasn’t changed much since college, but the dyed blonde hair he used to sport when he was younger has now been swapped for his natural black curls, which bounce every time he walks. “And you must be Detective Min, we spoke on the phone”

“Ah—yes,” Yoongi utters, thoroughly thrown off. You hide a smile.

“Come in, come in! Ah you can leave your bags by my desk for now.” The two of you do as you’re told, and Taehyung then leads you to a small conference room which holds a projector screen, a small round table, and a few chairs.

“I assume you’ve read the case file?” he asks and when you nod, he continues. “We haven’t had anything quite like this before – at least not during my career. I realize the two of you are the leads on The Joker right now, so any help you’re willing to provide is appreciated really.”

“Any new developments?” you ask, pulling out the file from your backpack. Taehyung hums before sitting down across from you.

“The toxicology report came back right as you arrived, I got a text from my partner,” Taehyung says, and you try to keep a straight face. “He’s over there right now he should be here soon, by the way,” You’re thankful that he doesn’t dwell on the topic for too long, most likely out of respect for you. “They found morphine in her system, so we’re inclined to believe that she was drugged before being tied up and killed. Your raise your eyebrows at this piece of information.

“The Joker doesn’t drug his victims.” You state. “They’re all very much awake when he ties them up and slashes their throats. The carved smile is always scratched in post-mortem.”

“Well there are inconsistencies then,” Taehyung says, running a hand through his hair. “All the wounds here were caused after he actually killed her – and that includes… whatever he did to her face.”

“So, we’re looking at a copycat.” You state.

“Or he’s changed his MO.” Yoongi adds.

“He hasn’t changed it for his first five victims what was special about this one that he had to drug her to knock her out first? No, this sounds like someone plotting murder and covering it up. Either way let’s explore all avenues.” You say.

“I agree,” comes a voice from behind you and you almost jump out of your seat. You turn to see the very person you’d been dreading running into since stepping foot on the platform this morning. Jeon Jungkook walks in, two cups in his hands, setting one down in front of Taehyung. He leans over to shake hands with Yoongi, giving you a mere side-glance. He sits down across from the two of you and takes a sip of his drink. Distractedly, you wonder if its coffee – as far as you know he was never a big fan.

The again, you muse, you’re not sure you really know him anymore.

There’s an awkward sort of silence and Yoongi’s body language tells you he’s noticed something’s off. Taehyung clears his throat.

“I’m assuming the two of you will want to check the crime scene out?”

“And the body.” You add. Taehyung nods and stands up.

“Do you want to split up or do both together?” You look at Yoongi.

“Together,” the two of you say at the same time. Yoongi’s smiling. You smile back.

Getting into the back of Taehyung’s sleek black SUV, you watch Yoongi jump in from the other side, dark hair slightly tousled from trying to get some sleep on the train. He’d been your partner for the entirety of your career with the Seoul PD. The two of you had started as rookie cops and had spent the first few months catching small-time criminals. Yoongi was easy to work with, and you’d found a fast friend in him, being alone in a big, unfamiliar city. You closed cases like no one else and before you knew it, the two of you were promoted to Major Crimes as detectives. The Joker was one of your first cases and it was a real thorn in your side that you hadn’t managed to catch the bastard yet.

Jungkook gets in the passenger seat next to Taehyung. He hasn’t so much as addressed you yet, except for agreeing with your previous statement. You had expected as much. He’s still sipping on his drink. Taehyung is talking to one of the officers by the main gate and you take this time to really take in Jungkook’s appearance.

He hasn’t changed – gotten broader maybe. His hair is slightly longer, falling into his eyes. His ears are still pierced in multiple places, although right now he’s only wearing simple rings in both ears. He’s wearing a dark sweatshirt, which you recognize is from the Busan Police Academy as you own the same one. His right hand is littered with tattoos you can’t make out, and they disappear into his arm. That is new and you wonder when he got them done. Unable to help yourself, your eyes travel to his left hand, his ring finger. You’re surprised to find it empty. The last time you saw him, there was definitely a ring there. It was the last time you were in Busan. You haven’t returned since.

“Did Namjoon text you?” Yoongi’s voice breaks you out of your reverie. You look at your partner distractedly. “He said he was going to.”

“Oh, I haven’t checked.” You mutter, before pulling out your phone from the back pocket of your jeans. There is an unread message, surely enough from your co-worker.

“Yeah he says Holly’s fine,” You tell Yoongi, scrolling through the message. “He was a little shy last night but seems to have taken a liking to Joon.” Yoongi heaves a sigh of relief. Yoongi was also your roommate back home, and his dog meant more to him more than anything else. You secretly were also extremely fond of the little brown poodle. “He says he’ll send pictures later.” Yoongi scoffs at that.

“He better, I do not trust that man with our dog.” Yoongi says and you smile at his wording. Holly was definitely Yoongi’s dog, you had just moved into his apartment when he was in need of a roommate to help cover the rent. It was so easy to be platonically domestic with Min Yoongi.

“Why didn’t you just leave him with your brother?” you ask, putting your phone away, looking out through the window to see if Taehyung is done.

“Geumjae’s in Daegu for my Mom’s birthday.” you turn to Yoongi in surprise.

“It’s your Mom’s birthday and you’re here?” you ask in surprise. Yoongi shrugs. “Maybe we should stop in Daegu on the way back.”

“I considered it,” he says. “If we have time.”

“I’d like to meet her.” You say warmly.

Jungkook clears his throat and you look at him, having forgotten he’s in the car too. He’s about to say something when Taehyung opens the door and gets in on the driver’s side.

“Sorry,” he says. “We have another ongoing case.”

“It’s not a problem,” Yoongi says. “You could’ve just left us to go do all this by ourselves.”

“No this case takes precedent for us too,” Taehyung says, starting up the car. “Plus, we’re here to help you if you ever need anything.”

The rest of the drive is silent, but its an almost-comfortable type of silence. You look out the window, taking in the familiar streets from your younger years. Nothing really has changed but then again, two years isn’t a long time at all. Or maybe it is. You’re not sure anymore.

“You say she was found near Haeundae?”

“Near the Haeundae market, yes.” Jungkook answers, surprising you. “She hadn’t been in the water and no water was found in her lungs, so she wasn’t drowned. No blood or signs of struggle in the surrounding area meaning she was killed elsewhere and brought to the market. We aren’t sure why this particular location was chosen--”

“The killer wanted her to be found,” you say, your voice soft, cutting him off. “The markets open before anything else. Everyone who lives here knows that.” Jungkook turns to look at you, really look at you, for the first time since he’d walked into the conference room.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “I think so too.”

“ID?” Yoongi asks, and either he’s pretending not to feel the tension in the car, or he doesn’t notice it. Knowing Yoongi, it’s probably the former.

“16-year-old Park Sohee,” Jungkook says, turning back to look at the little black notebook he has open. “Attended high school in Haeundae, grew up in the area too.”

“Have you spoken to the parents?” You ask.

“Yesterday,” he replies. “She was on the swim and dive team at school. Had excellent grades and many friends. A popular kid. Parents say she had no enemies, and no boyfriend, and wasn’t involved in anything ‘bad’.”

“Yeah well a parent is always going to say that,” you muse. “Have you spoken with her school? Friends? Swim coach?”

“Not yet. We waited for you.” You nod at that.

“I’d like to see the body after this if that’s okay. Yoongi can go talk to the school.” Yoongi nods beside you.

“Sure, one of us can go with you and the other can go with Detective Min.” Taehyung says, pulling up near the fish markets. You step out of the car, the smell of fish immediately overpowering you. You wrinkle your nose and look around. The market is exactly the same as you remember it. The familiar stalls selling everything from fresh produce to seafood to small trinkets and jewelry. It isn’t too busy right now considering it’s a weekday, which means you can look around easily.

“Nostalgic?” Jungkook asks stepping in beside you. You smile slightly.

“Only a little,” you answer him. “We used to come here a lot.”

“I still do to be honest,” he jokes. “The naengmyeon here is unrivalled.”

“Still?” you ask surprised, and he nods.

“Have some while you’re here,” he says, tossing his now empty cup in the nearby trashcan. “I know you like it.” He’s looking at you once again looking like he wants to say something. You understand, there are so many words left unsaid between you after all. You’re not sure you want to open that door though. Jungkook has always worn his heart on his sleeve.

“Over here,” Taehyung motions from some distance away and the two of you make your way to him. Yoongi is already standing there and he hands you a pair of gloves. Pulling them on, you lift the yellow police tape to make your way to the scene.

“They found her in front of this stall, on her back.”

“On display,” you say, kneeling near the chalk outline of the body. “Killer wanted us to see her face and neck.” You looked up at Jungkook and Taehyung, who were looking at you in confusion.

“It’s another inconsistency,” you say, standing up. “The Joker’s victims are all found face down. This guy totally didn’t do his research considering he was trying to be a copycat.”

“He wanted us to see the slashed throat,” Yoongi says. “He’s an amateur at this.” You nod.

“The cause of death was the morphine, I’m guessing. The wounds were all inflicted post-mortem”

“She had no other inflictions,” Jungkook says. “You can look at the tox screen when we go see the body and talk to the M.E. too.”

“Who found her?”

“A couple fishermen,” Taehyung reads off his notes. “Time of death is approximately 3-4 AM and both their alibis check out, they were out on the docks ready to head out.”

“I say we tell the press we’re convinced it’s the Joker,” you say, taking off your gloves and pocketing them.

“I agree,” pipes up Jungkook.

“Detective Min, if you can come with me to go talk to the family,” Taehyung says to Yoongi and then turns to you. “Go with Jungkook to see the body,” he says. You nod hesitantly, half-hoping it would’ve been the other way around. “We’ll drop you off on our way.”

Before you know it, you’re standing next to Jungkook outside the medical examiner’s office. Jungkook pushes the door open, letting you go through first.

“Hey Jin, I’m back,” he says and you hear a crash and a man appears from behind some shelves. He’s wearing a lab coat, dark hair disheveled. He looks at you.

“Oh, the detective from Seoul I’m guessing!” he says, his voice oddly melodious. “Kim Seokjin, MD.” You shake his hand, grinning and introducing yourself. You already like him.

“She wants to take a look at the body.”

“Of course, of course,” Seokjin says rushing around to the many shelves in the wall, popping one open and pulling out the body of Park Sohee.

You and Jungkook make your way towards it. You peer down at the young girl.

“The morphine is likely what killed her,” Seokjin says, watching you.

“She has bruises,” you say softly, staring at her abdomen. “Post-mortem?”

“No.” Seokjin replies. “She got those when she was alive. The coloring indicates they’re old.”

“Swimming and diving aren’t high contact sports,” you say. “Where did she get these bruises on her arms and chest?”

“You thinking domestic abuse?” Jungkook asks from behind you

“The parents said she didn’t have a partner. How did the parents seem?”

“Upset,” Jungkook starts, then stops. “You think the parents did this?”

“Just considering all options. Her team coach is also a possibility. I won’t know until we’ve checked all of them.” You look down at her again. “A pretty girl.” You say. “Can I have copies of the tox screen?”

“Sure,” Seokjin replies, walking over to his desk to print out a copy. “There isn’t much other than the morphine. An overwhelming amount.”

“Where would they get access to so much morphine?”

“No idea,” he says walking over and handing you the toxicology report, which you subsequently put in your bag. “But it was way over the lethal amount. The killer isn’t an expert on dosage. My guess? Someone who has no idea how killing works.”

You and Jungkook walk out of the building. The afternoon sun is peaking out, making you shed your jacket.

“You hungry?” he asks, and you realize you are. All you’ve had since arriving in Busan is coffee. “There’s a galbi place around here.”

He leads you around the corner into a small restaurant and you enter behind him.

“Jungkookie!” comes an excited voice and you see an elderly woman wearing a flowery apron making her way towards you. “It’s been a while!”

Jungkook grins at the woman and greets her politely and she ushers you over to a small table by the window facing the busy street. Handing you a menu, she smiles kindly at you.

“You’re a regular?” you ask.

“I used to be. It’s been a while honestly.”

You scan the menu, your mouth immediately watering.

“The dak-galbi here is unreal,” he tells you and you pretend to throw the menu away.

“Well how dare I eat anything else then!” Jungkook laughs, high and melodic. Its been a while since you’ve heard that laugh. “Let us split the dak-galbi. I also want rice.”

Jungkook gets up and walks over to the counter himself to give your order. You watch him, a small smile on your face. He collapses back in his seat, bringing over two glasses of water.

“So,” he says.

“What’s with the tattoos.” You blurt out, eyeing his hand. He stares down at it too.

“Wanted a change, I guess,” he says slowly. “Life was getting pretty dull around here.”

“So, you got inked,” you say grinning. He grins back.

“I’m happy this isn’t awkward,” he says after a while and you freeze. “I’m glad we can sit and talk like this still.”

“I know,” you whisper. “Me too.”

“About back then—” he starts, and you sigh. You want desperately to avoid this conversation but Jungkook, ever the straight arrow, has never liked underlying tension, and prefers everything laid out on the table in front of him. “I’m sorry for everything.”

“Don’t apologize for your feelings,” you tell him, but he shakes his head vigorously.

“No, I am sorry,” his tone is firm. “I ruined our friendship, made everything weird and drove you away. I know I’m the reason you’ve avoided this place until now and even now you’re only here because you have to be—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt gently, and he halts mid-rant, his doe-like eyes wide. “Stop talking. I’m the one who’s sorry. I acted immature and it was me who ruined everything, not you. I didn’t come back because-because it hurt at first and then I didn’t come back because I thought you’d be happier without having to deal with me.”

“How could you think that?” He’s gripping the table, knuckles white. It makes the ink on his hand stand out even more. You see a sketch of a small rose, about an inch tall, right below his index finger, and bite your lip. “You were my best friend.”

“It’s different now,” you assure him, still staring at the rose. It’s staring back at you, a silent taunt. It brings up repressed memories you rather not face. “Things are different. I’m happy—in Seoul. Please don’t blame yourself for everything that happened. I wasn���t angry to see you, I was just worried you wouldn’t want to see me. I’m happy now and I’ve moved on from all that.”

“With Yoongi.” Jungkook says, and you’re not sure why he sounds so bitter.

“With Yoongi, yes,” you say. Yoongi’s your work partner and a steady shoulder when you need one. He’s your roommate and best friend. Seoul is lonely and even after two years of living there, he’s one of your only friends. But as soon as you say it, something in Jungkook’s expression shifts, like a door slamming shut. He sits back. “He’s the best partner anyone can ask for, and a damn good detective.”

Jungkook nods once, jaw clenched. Before you can ask him what’s wrong, your food arrives and you’re too hungry to think of much else.

After that, the two of you only make polite small talk. There’s no tension but you can’t help but feel like the wall that was crumbling has somehow repaired itself. Jungkook’s phone rings as he’s finishing his rice.

“Tae, hey,” he says, phone in his left hand as he eats with his right. You distractedly wonder why he doesn’t wear his ring anymore. “Okay sounds good. No, we can just walk to the station its only a couple blocks. Yeah man see you there.”

“They done talking to the school?”

“Yeah they’ll fill us in when we get there.”

“So, what’s the deal?” Yoongi asks, his lithe body curled up on the hotel armchair in your room. His room is next door, but the two of you had ordered room service for dinner. Empty bowls of jajangmyeon lie littered on the small side table next to him.

“The deal with what?”

“Detective Jeon,” You turn to Yoongi and fix him with a stare. Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “He doesn’t seem to like me very much.”

“Nonsense,” you reply.

“You two have a history? It got seriously weird at times today.”

“No history—it’s the same as Taehyung, we attended the police academy together. Taehyung was a couple years ahead of us though.”

“And?”

“And I’ve also attended middle school and high school with Jungkook. He was my neighbour growing up.”

“Ah childhood friends,” Yoongi hums. “But what went wrong?”

“What makes you think something went wrong?”

“Because you left behind a perfectly good life here when you moved to Seoul? Because you never talk about these people? Before today I didn’t even know of them. And also, because you were absolutely dreading coming here.” You sigh, hating Yoongi’s astute personality.

“Jungkook found out how I felt,” You say quietly. “About him.”

“Oh.”

“While he had a girlfriend.”

“…Oh.”

“Who he was engaged to.”

“What the fuck,” Yoongi’s tone makes you giggle, relieving the pain a little.

“Obviously, he never felt the same way, but then things got so weird. It was like we could never go back to what was. Jungkook skirted around me, his girlfriend hated my guts, I had to avoid our whole friend-group because all of his friends were my friends. It felt claustrophobic.”

“So, you left.”

“Not exactly,” you say. “I wasn’t actively looking to run away, but when the option to move was presented to me, I hesitated way less than I originally would have.”

“And are you still in love with him?” Yoongi asks, voice casual.

“I don’t know,” you reply, thinking of the small rose tattooed on Jungkook’s hand. It’s easier to deny. “It’s been two years and as far as I know he could be married by now.”

“I didn’t see a ring,” Yoongi answers, like the detective he is. “And that doesn’t answer my question.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you say. “He was head over heels for Jangmi.”

“What a delicate name,” Yoongi muses.

“She was the delicate kind,” you agree. “Kind, pretty, gentle – just like her name—like a rose.”

“Every rose has its thorns though,” Yoongi says wisely. “He cares about you, you know.”

“Who?”

“Detective Jeon. I can see it in his eyes.”

“You’re such a romantic at heart Min,” You tease. Yoongi only smiles softly in return. “It doesn’t matter. Jungkook’s life is here and mine is in Seoul. After we wrap this case up, I probably won’t see him again. I’m happy with my life right now.”

“Maybe if you tell yourself that enough times, it’ll one day become the truth.”

“Anyway, go over what you saw with the victim’s school again.” You sit on your bed cross-legged, your go-to posture when you’re trying to focus.

“Nothing really seemed out of the ordinary. Her swim coach is a well-respected man. Usually men in power take advantage of multiple people under them but none of the other girls in the team seemed out of sorts to me. Her teachers all spoke highly of her—she really did have excellent grades. It seemed she was friendly with everyone in her class and on her team. I’ve hit a block.”

“That’s frustrating.”

“The bruises you mentioned are bothering me,” Yoongi adds. “They don’t seem to have an explanation and the parents seemed surprised when we asked them about it.”

“Alibis for the parents?”

“Asleep at home,” he hums. “No way for us to check that. Sohee was on her way back from swim practice and when she didn’t show up at home at the regular time by 10pm her mother started worrying. They claimed they would call the police the next day, but of course it was too late.”

“They didn’t think their daughter not showing up at home was a cause for panic?” You ask. “It’s weird to me. She wasn’t the rebellious type, so this must not have been normal behaviour.”

“You’re set on the parents, aren’t you?” Yoongi grins, stretching his legs out.

“It’s just this feeling, I don’t even have an explanation for it.”

“A hunch.”

“Yes but no proof,” You grit your teeth in frustration.

It rains on your second day in Busan. You roll out of bed to the sound of the tell-tale pitter patter and groan. Getting ready and putting on the jeans from yesterday along with a black dress shirt, you hop around trying to tuck it into the waistband. There’s a knock on your door and you open it to greet Jungkook.

“Oh—hey,” he is not who you expected to be at your door so early in the morning.

“Your partner left your hotel info with Tae.” He says, curious eyes peering around your hotel room. You quirk a small smile and let him in. He sits down on the chair Yoongi was occupying last night.

“So, what’s up?”

“We found a suspiciously large amount of money in a savings account under Park Sohee’s name,” Jungkook is still looking around your room curiously and you don’t know why.

“Suspicious?”

“She was sixteen,” he says. “What’s a 16 year old doing with fifty million won?” Your eyes widen at the amount.

“Do her parents know?”

“We’re going down to see them now that’s why I’m here.” Jungkook stands up. “Where’s Min?”

“In his room probably. He’s not a morning person.” Jungkook blinks down at you.

“You two aren’t sharing a room?”

“Huh?” You pause mid-way of packing your backpack for the day. “Why would we?”

“Because… you’re together—wait what,” Jungkook looks so confused you almost find it adorable.

“What the fuck Jeon, we’re not together – not like that.” You say.

“B-but yesterday you said you’d moved on with him—”

“Yes, as partners – you know? The thing we do for work.” You’re trying not to laugh.

“B-but you own a dog together and live together.”

“We’re cops, Jeon, not billionaires. Rent in Seoul is atrocious, he’s my roommate. Also, Holly is Yoongi’s dog, not mine.”

“Oh my god,” Jungkook hides his face behind his hands and sits back down. You’re laughing. “I’m sorry for assuming.”

“You know—you should ask Yoongi how Jung Hoseok is doing.” You say, grinning.

“Who?” Jungkook looks up.

“His boyfriend,” you’re trying hard not to burst back into giggles. “Lives in Gwangju on a temporary assignment. The guy whose room I’m technically renting out. They were roommates before getting together. When he had to move out for work, Yoongi needed someone to help cover the rent.”

“Oh my god,” Jungkook moans, hiding behind his hands again. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you say laughing. “Easy mistake to make… I think?” Jungkook is looking at you from in-between his fingers.

“So then, are you seeing anyone?” His direct tone throws you off. You turn to fully look at him, but a knock on the door interrupts you both.

It’s Yoongi, and he doesn’t look surprised to see Jungkook in your room.

“Taehyung texted me,” he says. “Detective Jeon,” he adds in greeting.

“Please,” Jungkook smiles, “call me Jungkook.” Yoongi raises both his eyebrows and looks at you in question and you’re trying to fight laughter once again.

The ride to the victim’s parents’ house is quiet. Taehyung drives and you spend the time pondering over Jungkook’s words from earlier. He’d been angry yesterday because he’d assumed you and Yoongi were together. You frown to yourself because nothing makes sense. Had he fallen out with Jangmi? But it’s not like Jungkook had ever thought about you as anything other than a friend. You remember his words from back then, loud and clear, and they come back to you now.

“I’m sorry.”

You remember his apologetic eyes, the glint of his wedding band; he had looked like a child who’d been told off. You hate that look, the pity staring down at you. But most of all you hate the fact that you’d been rejected before you’d even had a chance to explain. A mutual friend had let the cat out of the bag at a party, and Jungkook being Jungkook had confronted you right away. None of it had been on your own terms.

You’d brushed it off as a small crush, defence mechanisms kicking in, but things had never been the same afterwards. Jungkook had always been good at seeing right through you and he could tell you’d been lying about the depth of your feelings.

You clench your fist. Moving to Seoul had meant burying all this behind you, pretending none of it had happened, forgetting about Jungkook and how madly in love you’d been with him. You’d always been good at compartmentalizing, it’s what made you a good cop. You’d ignored everything for two years. Until now.

Yoongi calls your name, breaking you out of your reverie. You’re at Park Sohee’s home, but you can see from your seat in the car that the main door is ajar. Jungkook is already tossing you a vest which you hastily put on. He pulls out his gun and exits out the car. The three of you follow suit.

“Stand guard at the back, we’ll clear the house.” Taehyung tells you and you and Yoongi nod. The two of you position yourself near the backdoor. After about 10 minutes you hear Jungkook shout. The backdoor opens, and his head peeks out.

“Father missing, but we found his wife,” at your expression, he continues, “Dead, in the bathtub. Overdosed, it seems, in an apparent suicide. She left a note.” He holds up a piece of paper.

“Her husband, a nasty man, is our guy.”  

“Where is he?”

“Taehyung is putting a trace on his credit cards and cellphone as we speak.”

You’re reading the note, disgust piling up inside you. Sohee’s father had been an abusive man, and she was planning on running away and going to the police. She sold some of her clothes and other belongs to earn money through the years. The mother, an abused woman herself was complicit in the crime but had been unable to handle the guilt.

“This man killed his daughter and is directly responsible for another woman’s death. We better find him.”

At that moment, Taehyung appears at the door.

“Got him, let’s go.”

“When we said he was amateur at this, I didn’t mean this amateur.” You say, staring at the balding man through the one-sided mirror.

“He panicked when his daughter threatened to go to the police and killed her in a fit of rage. Then he tried to cover it up.”

“Only a psychopath tries to copy other psychopaths.” Yoongi says behind you. Jungkook is in the interrogation room, dark jeans and a dark t-shirt on, looking like he’s going to strangle the living daylights out of Park Sohee’s killer. His arms are bare for the first time since you’ve been back, and you can see the black ink swirling all the way up and disappearing into his sleeve. They’re all little designs, instead of a cohesive piece, as though he got them done separately.

“When are you guys heading out?” Taehyung asks. “We should at least grab a drink before you go.”

“We managed to get in on a train this evening,” Yoongi says apologetically. “Duty calls back home.”

“We’re still going to stop in Daegu for the night to wish Yoongi’s mother a happy birthday.” You tell Taehyung. “Early morning tomorrow, we head back to Seoul.”

“That’s too bad,” Taehyung nudges you playfully. “We barely had time to catch up.” You smile slightly, still staring at Jungkook, who’s coaxing a confession out of the man. You can’t deny that you want to leave Busan as soon as possible, but somewhere deep inside your heart breaks.

Park Sohee’s father confesses not too shortly after that and the case is officially closed. Taehyung suggests a late lunch at a nearby restaurant as a final get-together before you and Yoongi have to leave in the evening. Jungkook doesn’t say much throughout the meal, only offering a distracted smile every now and then.

When the four of you are heading out Jungkook grabs your wrist.

“Can we talk?” he asks and you look over at Yoongi who gives you a small smile.

“I’ll meet you at the train station tonight then,” is all he says before pulling Taehyung away towards his car. Jungkook is still looking at you.

“Walk with me,” he says, and you do, falling into step beside him. “I think we need to clear up some misunderstandings.”

“Misunderstandings?”

“I broke up with Jangmi,” he starts and you’re genuinely surprised to hear that. “Actually—she broke up with me. It’s been over a year since.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you say carefully, hating yourself for the selfish happiness that blooms inside you. “What happened?”

“She left me for someone else,” Jungkook says, smiling lightly. He doesn’t look hurt. “Someone who can love her way more than I ever could.”

“That’s so not true,” you argue back. “You loved her.”

“I did,” he agrees, and you try not to wince. It’s harder to hear it than say it. “To an extent. When she left, I didn’t cry. In fact, I was barely upset, and I hated myself even more for that. But then Jangmi pointed something out that made me see things very clearly.”

“What was that?” you whisper. The two of you are standing beside Nakdong river now, cyclists and runners passing by you in the blink of an eye. The air smells fresh and cold, the rain having left behind a chill and bright blue sky.

“She pointed out that I was more upset when you moved away than I was when she told me there was someone else for her.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding.

“Oh.” Is all you say.

“When I apologized yesterday, for ruining everything, I meant that I was sorry that I was so confused. My confusion and indecisiveness ruined everything. When everything became clear to me, you were already gone.”

“Why didn’t you contact me?” you ask, your voice still hushed.

“I tried,” he is being earnest now. “Your parents had already moved to Seoul, and I contacted Kim Jooyoung from school to see if she knew of your contact information, she was your best friend in college after all. All she had was a cellphone and a landline phone number, but it was worth a shot. When I called, your old roommate picked up and said you’d moved in with some guy. When I tried your cellphone, it was dead.”

“Oh I-I changed my number,” you say, your voice shaky. “I don’t even remember why now—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jungkook’s voice is urgent. “Before today I’d made peace with the fact that you were the one that got away. I could look you up using my connections but until today I was under the assumption you’d moved on. But you’re here now, by some miracle, if I can even call it that given the circumstances, but to me its too big of a coincidence to just pass up.”

You watch him quietly. He’s slightly out of breath and the wind ruffles through his dark hair.

“You never got to answer my question from earlier,” he says. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“N-no I’m not but—” You never get to finish your sentence because Jungkook is leaning in and crushing his lips to yours. His hands come up to rest on your shoulders, then your neck and then your cheeks, which he grazes with his thumbs. Once you get over your initial shock, you reach up to tentatively grasp his t-shirt on both sides. He tastes like the hot chocolate he had with his lunch. You feel his tongue tentatively swiping at you and you open yourself up to him. Immediately, he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

After what feels like both, and eternity and a few short seconds, he pulls away. His lips are glistening and swollen and he’s out of breath.

“Don’t leave,” he whispers, hands still cupping your cheeks. “Stay here.” Slowly, you pull away, resting a hand on his chest to steady yourself.

“You’re asking a lot of me,” you start. “My entire life is in Seoul, Jungkook, I can’t just up and leave—”

“You just up and left Busan,” he says, and you freeze. Studying your sudden shift in expression, he hastily corrects himself, “I didn’t mean it like that. That came out wrong.”

“Jungkook,” you say, hoping you sound more patient than you feel. “Things are different now; I’m almost settled down in Seoul. I love Busan, I do, but I have no intention of moving back here. My family lives in Seoul now too and my lease with Yoongi isn’t even up, and I love my job, I wouldn’t dream to leave it.” Jungkook abruptly pulls away. “And I won’t ask you to leave Busan, I know how much you love it here.”

“Then what now,” he asks, a small smile on his face. “That’s it? You leave tonight and I never hear from you again?”

“I never said that,” you say softly. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“Dramatic is my middle name,” he mumbles, and you giggle.  “Do you at least feel the same way?”

“Of course, I do,” you say. “Otherwise I’d have pushed you into the river by now for your advances. Give me some time to think things through alright?”

“But—”

“We have a case back home that needs us, I really do have to go back today. Yoongi’s visiting his family tonight and I’ve made him a promise to come along and they’re expecting me. I won’t go back on that.”

Jungkook is now silent, staring wordlessly at you.

“Do you trust me?” you ask.

“Yes.” He answers. There’s no hesitation in his voice. You smile.

Six Months Later

“Are you sure?” Yoongi asks. The party is in full swing, loud music almost drowning out his voice. He’s holding a cup of clear liquid in his hands and you doubt it’s water.

“Yeah it’s not a problem, I can watch Holly for the weekend.”

“I’ll drop him off on Friday then,”

“That’s fine! You and Hobi deserve the weekend away.”

“But it’s not a hassle for you? It’s your weekend off too,”

“Yoongi I’m not going to try and convince you to let me take care of your dog in the middle of Hoseok’s welcome-back-bash.”

“What’re you two whispering about?” Hoseok slithers in next to you, tossing an arm around your neck.

“Yoongi’s worried about his dog,” you roll your eyes. “This has never happened before.”

“I’m not worried,” Yoongi seethes, making you and Hoseok laugh. “I just don’t want my dog being neglected because you and Jeon are copulating like rabbits all weekend.” Blood rushes to your ears and you grit your teeth.

“Jungkook’s going to be too busy this weekend for that, I promise you.”

“Oh yeah, has he found an apartment yet?” Hoseok asks conversationally.

“Yeah, he’s signing the lease on Friday, and then moving here over the weekend.”

“And he starts work on Monday?” You nod.

“The Organized Crime boys are gonna love him,” Yoongi grins. “Man will fit right in. Where is he anyway? I haven’t seen him since you two arrived.”

“Right here Min,” Jungkook pops out of nowhere, a wide grin plastered on his face. You roll your eyes. “What’s up?”

“Yoongi thinks we aren’t responsible enough to take care of his precious dog.”

“I believe the phrase he used was, ‘copulating like rabbits’” Hoseok chimes in unhelpfully. You elbow him in the stomach. Jungkook eyes you, grin fading a little and you recognize the dangerous spark in his eyes.

“Well he’s not wrong—” he starts, but is met by loud interruptions from you, Yoongi and Hoseok.

“Too much information!” Yoongi yells, downing his drink. “You two are disgusting! Lets go Hobi.”

Jungkook comes up to you, still grinning slyly and you automatically slip your arm around his waist.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” you ask, looking up at him. Jungkook has an arm around your shoulder as he takes a sip of his beer.

“Bit too late to ask me that, don’t you think babe?” You pinch his waist and he yells out loud. “I didn’t move to Seoul for you, I moved here for the job.”

“Ha. Ha,” you roll your eyes, but a part of you knows it’s partially true anyway. Long distance between Busan and Seoul hadn’t treated you too badly and things had been going surprisingly well. You were a good five months into your newfound relationship when there had been a sudden opening in the Organized Crime unit, a real step-up for Jungkook’s career. Jungkook had told you once he’d applied for the job that he’d have applied anyway regardless if you were in the picture or not, and you appreciated his honesty. Both of you had always been the type to put your careers first, but you couldn’t believe your luck that things had just fallen into place like this. You’re happy for him.

“Although having you here is a pretty sweet bonus,” Jungkook adds, making you smile. The two of you stand there in silence, arm-in-arm, enjoying the celebrations from afar.

[ellenripleysbelieveitornot]

What about an Akechi/Joker role swap AU where Akechi is still the detective prince and Joker is still the Shujin delinquent, but the major difference is that Morgana never lost his memories and found Akechi before he approached Shido with his metaverse assassination plot?

Like, imagine Akechi, bitter and jaded, who has just awakened Loki and felt the terrifying and thrilling rush of the berserk power. He's formed a plan to get back at his piece of shit father, even managed to set up a meeting, which he had to set up months in advance, and on the day he's going to present Shido with info on the metaverse, he winds up arriving a few minutes late, because even though he intended to be early, he was accosted by a talking cat (he's been in the metaverse, so he can hear him) on the way over, and in the whole wtf-ery of the moment, lost track of time. Shido, being Shido, refuses to see him and will not reschedule because he doesn't like having his time wasted.

Pissed off, Akechi leaves to find Morgana still waiting for him outside. So he doesn't look like an idiot yelling at a cat on the street, he brings Morgana back to his shitty apartment, where Morgana explains why he had found Akechi and whats up. He doesn't know about Yaldobaoth taking Igor's place, he just knows there's two champions, and Akechi was the one he found first, so he must be Igor's chosen champion. (It is my theory that it doesn't actually matter who was Igor's and Yaldobaoth's champions, it was more about the choices they each made and where they ended up.) 

Akechi has no interest in saving the world, but he knows that if he wants to get back at Shido, he needs to become someone of consequence, so he agrees to undergo Morgana's training, since Morgana clearly knows more about the metaverse than he does, and he can use it to solve cold cases, earning him a place as the Detective Prince. He changes a few hearts, to pacify Morgana, too. It takes a couple years, but during his senior year in high school, he makes it, earning himself the cooperation of the police and the spotlight of the public eye. He's getting so close to making Shido notice him that he can practically taste it. Also, what’s this ‘velvet room’ he keeps dreaming about?

Then Morgana finds Kamoshida’s palace and is like ‘heyo, you thought changing hearts in the metaverse was cool, check this shit out’ and Akechi is admittedly intrigued , so he takes a look. He sees the inside of Kamoshida’s heart and is appropriately disgusted and says to Morgana, ‘hey we should totally kill this guy’s shadow.’ Morgana’s like ‘why is your first suggestion always murder, we don’t know what would happen if we killed his shadow, Igor wasn’t very clear about that bit, we should try stealing the treasure instead’ and Morgana has been useful (and it’s been really nice to have the company these past two years, though he won’t admit that) so Akechi agrees ‘fine, we’ll steal the treasure, but if that doesn’t work, then I’m killing his shadow.’

And that’s when Ryuji and Ann make an appearance (’ohmigawd, goro, be more careful with that damn app, i s2g.’) Ryuji’s mom apparently thinks Akechi is pretty neat and watches all his interviews, so Ryuji knows who he is and is delighted to find out that the lame-ass detective his mom has talked about is actually a grumpy badass in the metaverse, with this shadow that has some kind of insane power, and hey, he helped them bring down Kamoshida (alive,) so maybe he is actually pretty cool, even though sometimes he spaces out and talks about evil twins and some longed-nose dude. He decides then and there that he’s going to be Akechi’s best friend, since he apparently has none, and Ann is all too happy to join in for the ride, and all of Goro’s protests have fallen on deaf ears, and they know about the whole detective prince thing being a facade, so he might as well indulge them for now. 

The ‘Phantom Thieves’ (a name that makes Goro want to roll his eyes whenever he hears it, and why is everyone calling him ‘leader?’) gain fame and change hearts, gaining new members such as this weird-ass artist dude who fights with ice, and oh, god, one Nijima is bad enough, don’t tell me there’s two! and she uses nukes, wtf?!

Around this time, he also meets Shujin’s delinquent, enigmatic transfer student whose talk of hope and justice never quite seem to reflect in his stormy grey eyes, and he and Goro are clearly birds of a feather in a way, he can tell, there’s just something about him, and he thinks this guy might actually be his best friend, but don’t tell Ryuji that, he’d never hear the end of it.

Akechi learns the truth behind Akira’s arrest and Shido’s involvement and he is disgusted to find that he genuinely wants to help this guy, and he can’t do that if Shido’s dead, maybe he doesn’t want his revenge as badly as he thought??? Oh, ew, I have feelings that aren’t anger and it’s all my friends’ fault, I can’t just leave them and go off to get revenge, they’d literally die without me, those lovable idiots. Also, when Ryuji saw his home, he pretty much insisted he stay with him instead, and Ryuji’s mom reminds him of the good times he had with his own mother, and he honestly doesn’t think he has the strength to disappoint her like that. So, he decides to change Shido’s heart, but he knows that there’s no way that this little group of miscreants is strong enough to take on the fucked up bullshit that he’s seen in Shido’s heart, so let’s hit pause on that for now.

Shido had Wakaba killed via completely non-supernatural ways and stole her research, same as before, so Futaba still has a palace. He found out Akira worked at Leblanc a while ago and started dropping by, and then somehow Ryuji found out about it, and now all the Phantom Thieves know, so much for a peaceful place to get away, but he actually doesn’t mind that much, and Akira lets Akechi keep an eye on the shop when there are no customers so he can go out and do errands and Boss doesn’t mind, so they’ve ended up hanging out there as a group from time to time and talking Phantom Thief business, so Futaba knows who they are, and asks for their help.

Okumura’s palace pretty much goes the same, Okumura dies somehow, are we responsible, why does murder actually make me feel kinda bad, stupid friends and their stupid good influence. 

Goro attends the Shujin student fair as guest speaker, whoa, the class president being friends with Akechi does have its perks, doesn’t it? Akira finds them all there together and approaches them, tells them he saw them go into the metaverse, awakened his own persona, and saw a guy in a black mask kill Okumura’s shadow, hey why don’t I join you, you probably need all the help you can get, who’s heart are we stealing next, how about Sae, she knows my probabtion officer and has been giving me hell, plus I already checked, she definitely has a palace.

They agree, and oh, hey, Akira can hear Morgana talk now, but WAIT A MINUTE?! Didn’t he hear Morgana talk before when he told Goro that Leblanc didn’t sell sushi, even though Goro hadn’t asked for any?

They hack Akira’s phone, learn that Shido (Akechi recognizes that voice) will have thugs waiting to capture them when they leave the palace. They plan around it, pull the metaverse switch and manage to sneak a heavily drugged Akechi out of the warehouse Shido stashed him in by traveling through the metaverse. Shido’s lackey’s have written a fake suicide letter from the leader of the Phantom thieves, and the chief of police, under Shido’s orders, delivers a statement confirming its authenticity, and look the plan succeeded. All they need to do know is take down Shido.

Things are going great, until they get to the engine room, where Joker, having realized what happened, is waiting for them. Joker, who lost everything after he transferred, who discovered the metaverse completely alone, who didn’t mean to kill that guy’s shadow, but he attacked him first, and Shido had somehow known, had been keeping an eye on him, had him convicted for a crime that he didn’t commit in the hopes that he would break because he needed an agent in the metaverse, and so far he’s had no luck. Joker, who had nothing left to lose and had accepted the only hand that had reached out for him.

They fight, and when it looks like things are going badly for Joker, he pulls out... a second persona?!?! At least, it looks like a persona, but something about it is off. it looks familiar somehow. And then Akira asks if they knew it was possible to fuse personas and Akechi realizes what he’s looking at. These aren’t the clean executions that Caroline and Justine perform, these are personas that have been ripped apart and haphazardly thrown back together with no thought to form or elegance, look, there’s a Yaksini’s arm, and that bit right there clearly used to belong to a Rangda, and I think that piece might have belonged to a Seiryu, and Akechi should stop listing personas now because Ann thinks she’s going to be sick.

They keep fighting. Joker can’t understand the difference in power between them. After all, aren’t they the same? Unloved, unwanted, soldiers pitted against each other by some bullshit higher power?

When Joker shoots the bulkhead door closed and Futaba reports that she’s lost Joker’s reading, Akechi vows then and there that he’s going to kill Shido after all. And he almost does. He stands there, with his gun pressed to the head of the shadow of his father, his friends can’t blame him, and even Morgana knows better than to try and stop him. But he doesn’t. He remembers Akira’s madness there at the end, and wonders what he would have become of him if it weren’t for Ryuji, who somewhere along the way, he’d realized he’d stopped tolerating and started actually liking. Ann, who shared his woes about being in the public eye and swapped tips with him about how to handle the press. Yusuke, who, although he was still completely bizarre to him, appreciated the beauty in life and didn’t tease Goro for his taste in Grandpa clothes. Makoto, who knew the importance of hard work and who, between herself and her sister, had caused Goro to pick up some healthier coping mechanisms. Futaba, who made fun of him for his food blog, but liked the same nerd bullshit that he did and would bombard him with memes until his day somehow became a little less shittier. Haru, who dreamed of starting her own business and actually cared about Goro’s opinions, and could threaten someone with a smile in a way that even Goro was jealous of. And Morganna, who had reminded him what it was like to not be lonely, and demanded more sushi than he could afford, but always made sure Goro ate his fill, instead of getting so focused on his work that he forgot.

Akechi guesses that he must have turned soft somewhere during the past several months, but after seeing what happened to Akira, he can’t help but be grateful, knowing with certainty that if things had turned out differently, that would have been him. Hey, Morgana, you know that world-saving bs you talked about two years ago? Let’s leave this piece of shit here to rot and focus our attention on that instead.

And you guys know the rest.

Or, at least, that’s how I thought it would go. Feel free to share your thoughts. :)

[drabbles-mc]

You Came Back (1/3)

Juice Ortiz x Reader

Request from @ateliefloresdaprimavera​: Juice has a special place in my heart, so I'm denying his ending on the show😭 I want to foccus on the nurturing,fluffy and romantic side that he deserves😍 maybe something about Opie and Jax childhood friend who comes back to charming( Gemma always thought of her as her own kid) and she's really closed of emotionaly, bit our boy is smitten from the second he has his eyes on her. so romantic Juice overdrive, and she starts to see this side of life that's worth, by his side

Warnings: language

Word Count: 2.8k

Chapter Index: Part 2 , Part 3

A/N: Okay so I maaaay have gotten a little carried away with this request (hence it being three parts lmao) but I just felt like to do it right I had to make it longer than a one-shot. Hope you don’t mind! My love for Juice knows no bounds so it’s easy for me to get a little over zealous lol

You rolled into the lot at T-M, turning the radio down as you did. Everything looked pretty much exactly the same as when you left all those years back. You wondered if any of the guys ever actually got out of Charming, or if they all fell into the routine and stayed. You shook your head at yourself, knowing that you weren’t really any different—all those years you spent out of Charming and somehow you ended up right back in it. Maybe you just weren’t meant to stay away.

You parked and took a deep breath, trying to give yourself the will to step out of the vehicle. You looked around the lot, seeing all the bikes lined up together made your heart speed up. You glanced over to the shop itself, not seeing any familiar faces at first. You sighed, finally making yourself cut the ignition and get out of the car.

The walk to the office felt like it was a mile long. The door was ajar, but you still knocked before entering. You heard an unmistakable voice on the other side, “Come in.”

You stepped inside, waiting for Gemma to look up from the papers in front of her. Her eyes flicked up, expecting to see someone else, anyone else, but there you were. It took a second for it all to register, but as soon as it did a smile broke out across her face. She stood up and walked around the desk, wrapping you in a hug.

“Well, well,” she laughed, stepping back so she could get a good look at you, “Didn’t expect to see you rolling in here any time soon.”

You laughed, shaking your head slightly, “Yea, me neither I guess.”

“What brings you here, sweetheart?” she could see the stress on your face.

You sighed, “Don’t really know. I had to go somewhere, and I ended up here.”

She smiled, nodding, “All my kids always make it back home,” she saw you open your mouth to argue and held her hand up to stop you, “Blood isn’t what makes someone my kid. If I ever fed you in my house, you’re my kid.”

You smiled and nodded, glad to be surrounded by the familiarity of it all. You thought that it would’ve changed over the years but you supposed that you should’ve known better. Charming, and all the people in it, seemed untouched by time. You had no idea if you were going to be able to blend back into it after being away for so long.

“That mean that Jax is around here somewhere too?”

Gemma smiled and nodded, “Clubhouse. I’m sure they’ll be excited to see you. C’mon, I’ll walk with you.”

The two of you walked side-by-side in silence. You knew that Gemma had questions, but you knew that she would wait until the excitement died down to pull you aside to ask you them. Today was just about finding everyone else again. Down the road you’d get around to finding yourself again, too.

Gemma swung open the door to the clubhouse, “Look who I found, wandering around the lot.”

Jax and Opie were both seated at the bar, smiles breaking out across their faces the second they saw you. They both stood up and came over to greet you, and you reveled in the warmth of their hugs.

“Holy shit,” Jax chuckled and shook his head, “Never thought I’d be seeing you again.”

“That seems to be the trend,” you said with a nervous smile.

Opie draped his arm around your shoulder, completely enveloping you as he pulled you against his chest again, “Welcome home.”

You laughed into his kutte, “What a welcome it is.”

You recognized some of the other faces in the clubhouse. Truthfully you weren’t ever overly close with the guys in the club. You were all nice to each other, but growing up with Jax and Opie you made a conscious decision to stay just far enough out of club drama and business to keep yourself safe. They were your best friends and you loved them, but you made a point to not know too much. Plausible deniability was key.

“Come, sit,” Jax flashed a smile, “have a beer.”

“You sure?”

He chuckled, “Yea. We ain’t got shit to do.”

Opie smiled at you, “Besides, how long has it been? Seven years? Eight?”

“Nine,” you said as you pulled away.

“Jesus Christ,” Jax said with a shake of his head, “Where does the time go?”

The three of you were sat at the bar, catching up on the broad strokes of what your lives had been like since the last time you were all in a room together. You always said that you were going to keep in touch with them when you left, but it never happened. You could blame it on a lot of different things, but deep down you knew that if you kept in touch you wouldn’t have stayed away. Charming was like a magnet and there was no denying its pull if you ever got too close.

“I do see some new faces though, right?” you laugh, “Some of these guys definitely weren’t here before.”

Jax chuckled, nodding, “You’re right. Got some new brothers hanging around. This is Half-Sack,” he nodded towards the young man who was behind the bar, trying and failing at not being obvious about staring at you, “He’s our latest Prospect.”

“N-nice to meet you, Y/N,” he nodded quickly as he went back to whatever he had been doing behind the bar beforehand.

You smiled and shook your head as you took another look around the clubhouse, “Who else is new?” you paused, chuckling to yourself, “Who else is new and actually matters?”

Opie chimed in, nodding to the far side of the clubhouse, “Only other new kid in the club is Juice.”

“Not hiring very many people these days, huh?” you chuckled, nudging Opie’s shoulder, “They stop bringing in new talent after you patched in?”

“Who else would they need?” his smile made your heart melt.

“Ope, Jax,” Clay came bursting into the clubhouse, “Church, now.”

“We’ll pick this up later,” Jax kissed you on the cheek, “It’s good to have you home.”

Opie pulled you into a half-assed headlock, kissing the top of your head before trailing behind Jax and following him into the chapel of the clubhouse. You watched in silent awe as the other men filtered into the room, shutting the doors behind them.

You turned and looked at the prospect, “You’re gonna miss roll call.”

He smiled, shaking his head, “I don’t go in there unless explicitly instructed.”

“What’s your name?” you sipped on your beer while you waited for his response.

“It’s Kipp,” he only met your eyes for a second.

“Mind if I call you that instead of Half-Sack?” you chuckled.

His cheeks flushed slightly, “You can call me whatever you want.”

You laughed and shook your head but didn’t make any other comment about it. He seemed sweet, and you thought to yourself that maybe you didn’t give the other guys in the club enough of a chance. Maybe you kept a little too much distance from everyone. Maybe if you hadn’t you wouldn’t have had to leave to end up right back where you started, you just would’ve stayed.

When the chapel doors opened up again, the men started trickling out one by one. You didn’t see Jax, Opie, or Clay come back out right away though. You didn’t have much of anywhere else to be, so you stayed put to wait. The prospect brought you another beer when he saw that you weren’t going anywhere.

You were looking down at your phone when someone popped up and sat down on the stool next to yours. It took you a moment to look up and see who it was. You were greeted with a warm smile as the man next to you gave you a once-over.

“I’m Juice,” he nodded with a grin.

You smiled, holding out your hand, “Y/N.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “You haven’t. I’m an…old friend of Jax and Opie. I haven’t been around in a while. Just got back to Charming.”

“Welcome back.”

You smiled, “Thanks. You’re new, too, yea? You weren’t here when I left.”

He chuckled, “New seems like a strong word.”

The two of you sat and made small talk for a few minutes. There was a warmth that radiated from his smile that made you feel like you’d known him your whole life. You wondered if maybe the club was turning over a new leaf. The newest members seemed like they were cut from a different cloth and it was reassuring to you.

Jax appeared behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders, “This guy givin’ you a problem, Y/N?” you could hear the smile in his voice.

You shook your head, “Not at all. Just helping me kill time until you two jokers got out of your little meeting with Clay.”

“How long you in town for?” Jax asked.

You shrugged, “Until further notice?” you tried to play it off with a smile, not wanting to talk about how you had ended up back in Charming, “Why? That desperate to get rid of me already?”

He hugged you back against his chest, almost pulling you off the stool, “Nah, never. Where you staying?”

You sighed, leaning your head back against him, “Haven’t figured that part out yet.”

“You can stay with me until you figure it out,” he offered up, “Beats paying for a motel.”

“You sure?”

He nodded, “Of course. Not giving you any more reasons to skip town on us again,” he held his hand out to help you off the stool, “C’mon, you can follow me and we can get you settled in.”

You let him help you, relieved that you had a place to stay, and that it was with someone that you trusted, “Thank you, Jax. I owe you one,” you turned back to Juice, “Nice meeting you.”

“Yea,” there was a small smirk on his face, “you too,” he watched you and Jax walk out of the clubhouse, laughing together as the door shut behind you. He turned to Opie, “Who is she?”

He shook his head with a knowing smile, clapping Juice on the back, “She’s out of your league, brother.”

Juice laughed at the remark, but wasn’t able to take his eyes away from the door that you had just walked out of. He might not have known you yet, but he was hoping that that wouldn’t be the case for long. You felt like a breath of fresh air. He drummed his fingertips on the surface of the bar, the wheels in his mind beginning to turn.

It took a few days to get comfortable staying in Jax’s house. He was more than accommodating, but you were still struggling with being back in Charming. Any time he tried to pry a little more into what your life had been like once you left, and what it was that made you decide to come back, you clammed up. You weren’t good enough at lying to try, especially not with someone who knew you as well as Jax did. He eventually backed off when he realized that he was just going to have to wait for you to be comfortable talking about it in your own time. But you still felt like there were a few degrees of separation between the two of you.

“Plans today?” he asked as he sat across from you at the table, taking a sip of his coffee.

You sighed and shook your head, “Not really. Still waiting to hear back from a couple of the places I sent applications out to.”

“If you need something in the meantime, I’m sure we could find a spot for you at T-M.”

You shook your head, not wanting to accept charity, or pity, “No, you don’t have to do that. You guys have a full house there as it is.”

He smiled, “Nah, my mom could always use the help. She says it all the time.”

You chuckled, “Needing you guys to do your jobs and needing extra help aren’t the same thing.”

He laughed, “See? You two’ll work well together. Why don’t you come with me today and you can talk to her?”

“And say what? Just walk in and say, I’m poor, please give me a job?”

“Isn’t that what all job interviews are like?”

You laughed, not able to disagree, “I mean, I guess, yea,” you sighed, “Alright, fine. But I’m not talking to her alone.”

“You don’t need backup, Y/N.”

“Listen, I know your mom likes me, but she’s still one of the scariest fucking people I’ve ever met. So, you’re talking to her with me.”

He caved, the way you knew that he would. You followed him to the shop in your car, him on his bike. You laughed at the way he would speed ahead of you and force you to play catch-up. It felt like you were teenagers again and for a few minutes your heart felt lighter.

When the two of you rolled into the lot, things seemed quiet. The guys were working in the shop, and you looked around trying to picture potentially being here all day every day. You had no idea what that would be like, what you would even really do.

“Hey, baby,” Gemma walked up and hugged Jax, kissing him on the cheek.

“Hey, Mom,” he turned to you, “Y/N had something that she wanted to talk to you about.”

You pressed your lips together into a thin line—you should’ve known that he was going to hang you out to dry on this. He gave you a pat on the back and took off towards the clubhouse, leaving you and Gemma there outside the office together.

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” she looked at you expectantly.

You sighed, hating that you were about to ask her about this, “Um, so…I’ve just been struggling to pick up a job on short-notice. Jax mentioned that maybe there would be a spot for me here? Just something short-term. I’m not trying to take advantage or anything—if there’s nothing you really need me for here that’s totally fine.”

She smiled, “There’s always something to be done around here,” she gently placed her hand on your arm, “We take care of our own. When can you start?”

You smiled with a shrug, “Now?”

Gemma chuckled, “Perfect. Juice needs an extra pair of hands on a repo run. You okay with that?”

You nodded, “Yea, sure. Will he tell me what I have to do? Because I have no idea,” you laughed.

She smiled with a slight nod, “You’ll be fine,” she waved Juice over, “Juice, c’mere!”

He jogged over, a smile plastered on his face as he looked at you, “What’s up?”

Gemma gestured towards you, “Y/N is working for us for a while. She’s going on the repo run with you today, that alright?”

He nodded immediately, “Yea, of course,” he looked at you with bright eyes, “Good to see you again.”

You smiled, nodding, “You too.”

You could practically feel him vibrating with excitement in the driver’s seat beside you as he drove. You tried to hide the smile that was fighting its way onto your face. You asked him what he even needed you to do when the two of you worked together. He outlined it all to you and it seemed fairly simple. You had to imagine that it wasn’t the most fun part of the job, but it was still something to keep the both of you busy for a little while.

On top of the repo, Gemma had called and asked the two of you to stop and pick up a few parts that she had ordered for the shop. You waited outside with the truck while Juice went inside to pick them up. He walked back out carrying two large boxes stacked on top of each other.

“Can you get the door?” he asked, voice slightly strained.

You chuckled, “I kinda wanted to see you try to pull it off by yourself.”

The two of you were halfway into your drive back to T-M when Juice spoke up, “Can I ask you something?”

You looked over at him, “Shoot.”

“Are you and Jax…you know…”

You laughed, “Dating?”

He shrugged, “Yea.”

You shook your head, unable to stop laughing, “No, no we are not. We’re just good friends. I love him but, yea, no,” you searched his face for a reaction, “Why?”

He tried to play it off, “No reason, just curious. You guys just seem close, is all.”

“Mhm,” you chuckled and went back to looking out the window, “If you say so.”

[listentothelittlebird]

This was a first draft to Protect Our Own, from my Code Bat series on Ao3! It’s a reimagining of Jason Todd breaking into Titans tower, in a world where Robin is a myth and Tim Drake goes by Alvin, unnamed vigilante, with the Titans. Enjoy!

Shit. Jason was screwed.

Even as he held the tablet in his hands, watching the very concerning stalker-level footage that the League had gathered, he knew. He knew without a doubt that he was watching the new Robin. The target chosen for him was, of all the options the world could give him, Robin.

“This boy is a member of a group of young superheroes known as Young Justice. They recently went under the mentorship of older superheroes, to become the newest team of Teen Titans,” Talia Al Ghul explained passively, and Jason did not like the gleam in her eyes as she watched the young boy fight, “Lady Shiva met the boy, once, and agreed to train him. Even she is unaware of who his previous mentors were.”

Thank goodness for small mercies.

Then Talia turned to Jason. “You have done an admirable job of controlling your Pit Madness,” she smiled sharply, and Jason was reminded of all the deaths he had caused, all the people who had taught him and were murdered by him, using their own tactics, “And you have learnt fast. As promised, you will complete one contracted kill, and you will be released to exact your own revenge.”

Jason gave himself a mental pat on the shoulder, because even in the early days of crazed anger, not once had he given proper clues towards the fact that his killer - the one he wanted to exact his revenge upon - was the Joker himself. “White-faced asshole” could just be a white man, and “fucking green-haired piece of shit” could still just apply to anyone with green hair.

The Robin secret was still safe, surprisingly. Code Bat was still safe.

The assassin base was in the middle of nowhere, but there was still a little town nearby, with enough reception to surf the internet on a phone he had nicked from a particularly rich-looking traveller. 

Talia did not control what he knew, the League did not control what he knew, so even while he learnt of the Joker still being alive, he also learnt about the helicopter crash, how Batman had purposefully fled empty-handed. Truthfully, he still wanted the Joker dead - but he recognised that there was a chance that no matter how many times they tried, the bastard would come back. He would rather not try than to get stuck in a never-ending loop, something that B- that Bruce must have realised.

There were other stories he found. Jason could not deny destroying several rooms in the base when he read the kid’s story. All the money in the world, and his very-much-alive parents could care less than Jason’s own barely-there mother had. 

He had not known if the boy had taken up the mantle after him, but he was unsurprised at the confirmation in front of him. Robin was as much a part of the Wayne family as champagne, fancy suits and camera smiles.

“The boy is young, and already he is excelling in combat, research, and investigation. In a few years, he will be a real threat to the League. This is your final assignment. Kill the boy, and we will let you go.”

Well, fuck. 

Jason carefully controlled his reaction, turning to meet Talia’s eye with his blue-green eyes. “You want me to kill a minor,” Jason spoke slowly, allowing his incredulity and a tinge of anger to slip into his voice.

“Either you take the job, or you will continue training, until another opportunity arises,” Talia replied evenly. Which meant anything from a week later to never. 

Jason gritted his teeth, sucked in a deep breath, and pushed it all out at once. “When are we leaving?” he questioned. Talia’s grin was sharp, like a predator before their strike.

-

Double shit. This just got way more complicated.

Jason had bargained with Talia for a week of preparation work - a week to scout out the Titans tower, as if he had not memorised the layout of the old one. As if they had not built the new tower in the exact way as the old one had been.

“We will have League members surrounding the building,” Talia announced, a day after they had landed in the city. Jason raised an eyebrow at her. 

“We are curious as to who has trained this boy,” Talia explained, “Subdue the boy’s teammates, and make him vulnerable. Don’t block radio transmissions. If the boy has maintained contact with his mentor, they would come running at their call.”

Jason cursed inwardly, keeping his face carefully blank as he nodded his assent.

He had to play this right. 

-

“I don’t trust this,” Bruce rumbled for the fourth time, in full Batman mode despite being in a casual sweater and sweatpants.

Dick hummed along, casting a concerned glance Tim’s way.

On the table was a note, delivered through an unassuming envelope. 

It stated a date and specific hour, and, Don’t call the Code. 

“The code,” Tim mumbled, “Like, Code Bat? There’s no way they’d know that, though, right?”

The note was written on red paper, flecked with green and yellow. Tim’s tone was wavering, lacking its usual confidence. He was always so sure when it came to cases, but this? 

“What’s happening at this time?” Dick wondered. Bruce pulled up his own schedule for the following week, and Tim mentally went through his own plans. Nothing of note, but-

“I’ll be in Titans tower,” Tim stated aloud, and there were gears turning in his brain. Wild gears that were nearly off their hinges, but they were the same gears that had made the Batman-is-Bruce-Wayne connection, and he had learnt to trust them.

“Is someone trying to warn us?” Tim voiced, “I get a lot of speculation from the public, about what my official superhero name is, but also where I came from, who I trained with. What if it’s not just the internet wondering?”

Bruce pursed his lips in thought. He turned to Tim, his eyes hard and determined in that certain manner that meant he was being overprotective.

“No,” Tim blurted, “I’m not staying at the Manor during that specific timeframe.” Bruce shut his mouth and blinked down at his adopted son.

“Whoever this is, they risk being found out if I don’t show up,” Tim gestured to the note, “It might just escalate from there, anyway, if we prolong whatever is supposed to happen.”

“It could be a trap,” Dick pointed out, and now he too had taken up the overprotective undertones of discomfort. Tim squared his shoulders and smiled reassuringly. “I’ll be fine,” he promised, “I’ll stay in the tower. Besides, all my teammates will be there. If anything happens, they’re right there.”

Bruce and Dick exchanged worried glances, but eventually Bruce sighed and clasped a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “Code Bat has always been for your safety,” Bruce stated firmly, “I don’t care if our enemies find out about us - if it gets out of hand, if it looks like a trap, call us.”

-

The morning of the date stated on the note, Tim found another one in his Teen Titans bedroom.

They want you dead. Play along.

What jolted Tim was the symbol at the bottom right corner of the note - it was one of the made-up symbols that Dick had taught him. The symbol on the note meant “burn after reading”.

The handwriting was not Dick’s, nor was it Bruce’s. It was cursive, almost like Alfred’s, but it was also much more scrawled and uneven, like someone still unpractised in writing. 

The gears in Tim’s brain must have really come unhinged this time, because the only name it could conjure was Jason. Jason was dead.

Tim was quietly uptight right until the hour came. He almost did not realise his teammates were being picked off, meticulously, skillfully, one by one. Almost.

Tim still had yet to press his emergency beacon. He had not activated Code Bat. He wanted to see where this went, before anything else.

Then the mysterious attacker descended on him, a blur of black and the smallest glimpse of white, and Tim was fighting for his life.

The man moved like an assassin - Tim had met some League of Assassins members, back when he had trained with Lady Shiva. He moved like them, but there was also something else to his movements.

Tim dodged a hit, and that was too short to be aiming for his throat, that would have been a non-lethal hit-

The man was not aiming to kill. He fought like Batman. He fought like one of them.

Tim opened his mouth, made to say something, although he was unsure what. He was swept off his feet before he got the chance.

“Who trained you, kid?” the voice growled, and it was a deep voice that should have unnerved him, but something struck him as familiar. The drawl, the barely-there accent.

Jason, his brain screamed.

Real answers, please, Tim pleaded.

The man pulled him by his tunic collar, and he shifted to pull him towards his face. There was a glint of metal on the man’s uniform - a recording device. 

“Who are you?” he growled again, with Tim pulled close. 

Tim got a good look at the man’s face, and while he instinctively bantered back, he was internally reeling. Looks like his gears were working, after all.

“Just a kid with a dream,” Tim smirked, a crooked smile already leaking some blood. 

Jason - because this man was Jason, somehow, how was Jason alive - interrogated Tim while punching him out. His blows hurt for sure, but Tim swore that he was aiming for the areas that would cause the least injuries. He swore that when he grunted as a rib was broken, Jason had paused minutely, cringing slightly, before he barreled on.

Something was placed on his chest. 

“Say goodnight, kid,” Jason sing-songed, and there was the sound of a gun cocking. Tim barely registered that when the gun shot, it had shot at him. There was the hard thump of something near his chest, just above his chest, but it had barely touched his tunic.

Jason tapped a finger-signal, a “stay low and don’t move”, and Tim remained where he was. He waited as footsteps receded, waited for several minutes, with a bag of fake blood leaking from his chest, bruises and other injuries blooming in pain underneath his uniform.

He felt rather than heard the presence appear beside him. The looming figure crouched down and gingerly maneuvered Tim into a firm grasp. 

His “assassin” stared down at him. He had switched out his black assassin get-up for casual clothing. He was… tall. Built like Bruce. His eyes were different, too, and he had a white lock of hair curling just above his eyebrows. Yet…

“Jason?” Tim croaked out, and Jason Todd smirked. Tim knew that smirk - Robin wore it a lot, when he watched him. “You better be damn glad no one can hear you, anymore,” Jason gruffed, and started moving with Tim in his grasp, “Let’s go somewhere else, though, for good measure.”

They ended up in Tim’s room - sound-proofed, and therefore the safest location in the tower for this conversation.

“You’re alive,” Tim blurted out, as Jason dressed his wounds. His hands stuttered before resuming their work. “I died,” Jason stated flatly, “And I dug myself out of my own grave. Talia found me, and threw me into a Lazarus Pit.”

Jason raised his eyes to meet Tim’s, and Tim could see the eerie green glow in his eyes. 

“Don’t tell Bruce about me,” Jason rushed out, and Tim immediately jumped to object, but Jason was faster, “Don’t. Listen, I-” Jason breathed deeply, “I’ve killed, alright? I’ve broken his big rule and all that jazz. I might still find myself going back to the streets of Gotham, but to the Manor? I’m not ready to face that shit.”

Jason paused for real this time, having finished taking care of Tim’s more visible injuries. He cringed. 

“You should get Alfie to check you out, just in case you have internal bleeding or whatever the fuck I gave you,” Jason waved his hand around uselessly, “Lie low for a few days, alright? I need to make myself scarce. They’ll find out I didn’t follow through with the deal, and I’ll need to have disappeared, by then.”

Tim was silent for a few long moments. “Will I see you again?” Tim finally asked, his eyes wide and hopeful, “They miss you, you know? We miss you. We all do.”

Jason swallowed, and blinked back the water gathering in his eyes. “How can you miss me?” he chose to ask, “S’not like you knew me very well, before… well, before.”

Tim grinned, bright and eager. 

“You once snuck out for patrol on your own,” Tim informed him, “And got stuck on a rooftop that you flipped onto with your grappling hook, because the other buildings around you were all too far away to grapple towards. You had to slide down the water pipes and run across an empty street to make your way back home.”

Jason sputtered, because that had happened, he did remember that, but when the heck did he hear about it?

“How the hell do you know that?” Jason asked, unable to keep his dismay from leaking into his voice. 

“I’ll tell you when I next see you,” Tim smiled cheekily. Smartass.

Jason checked the time. “Your Superboy buddy will be waking up soon,” Jason reported, “Don’t come looking for me, alright? I’ll… I’ll return to Gotham soon. I just have to make sure the League’s off my back.”

Jason got up and hesitated. “When I return to Gotham,” he warned, “I’ll come in guns blazing. There’ll be deaths. It won’t be pretty. Just- just stay out of my way.”

It would have been more convincing, if Jason had not spent the last thirty minutes treating Tim’s wounds.

“Who are you?” Tim called abruptly, Jason hovering at the door, “You come in and take us all out, one by one. They’d want a name. Who are you?”

Jason smirked sharply. 

“Red Hood,” he droned, “Call me Red Hood.”

He slinked away, and like a true Bat, was out of the tower in seconds.

[j-wont-stop]

Title - The Scarred (Chapter Eight)

Word Count - 2938

Fandom - Batman: The Dark Knight

Pairing - Ledger!Joker x OC

Summary - Penelope Bishop works at a florist shop in Gotham, barely getting by in the corrupted city. Her life is shrouded by therapy and judgement with little light to find her way with. However, when a certain painted face starts making himself known to her, things take a turn.

Warning(s) - Minor errors, brief smut

Inspiration - Cold (Aqualung & Lucy Schwartz)

Masterlist

A/N - Hello, lovelies! I’m sorry for the later post, I’ve been going through a lot lately and I’m trying to get myself back on track... I tried to make it a little longer to make up for it ❣️

Penelope hesitated to unlock her door, in a way expecting The Joker to be behind it once again. Once it clicked she opened it slowly, a waft of lavender washing over her as she walked into her now empty home. Her brain was foggy, eyes sore. Mind racing with thoughts of the menacing clown, but one thing stood out the most.

She wasn’t entirely scared.

She thought about what Liam had said to her. To worry about why he was curious about her rather than what he said. He held her under a knife. He had every chance to kill her, take advantage of her somehow. Use blackmail, even. But he didn’t.

She remembered how he towered over her, at least a foot in difference. She remembered the overwhelming smell of gunpowder and gasoline, yet a hint of his own smell which she couldn’t pinpoint. The way he stared into her eye with an intensity that was almost unbearable.

She shook her head to clear it once she felt her face begin to heat up.

Stupid. Penelope mentally scolded herself and began her nightly routine, starting with her bandages as per usual. She thought about talking to Liam, but her body felt too drained after her appointment.

She was tired. Tired of breaking. Tired of worrying. Tired of living in fear. Of being humiliated, stomped on and cast out. Tired of crying. Just tired. The thought of having to wake up and do it all over again alone made her feel exhausted.

Penelope slipped under her blanket and turned off the lamp, yet she couldn’t bring her eye to close. She stared at the wall in front of her as if it was her lifeline. She stared until she lost the will to stare anymore, and that had always been frightening to her.

“J -“ The woman gasped. Her mind was clouded with the movement of his hands as they caressed her. Her mouth was parted, eye fluttered shut and head tilted back against her soft pillow as he guided her into oblivion. Their mixture of sweat and pants only ignited the atmosphere and he buried his head in her neck to lick a trail up to her jawline, earning a shiver beneath him. All too suddenly, she felt a sharp pain and her eye snapped open.

The space above her was now empty, her body covered in a mush of ash and sweat as the room grew brighter with flames. Quickly they became angrier, a more fierce heat enveloping her until it was just within her reach. It inched its way closer by the second, closer -

Penelope shot up with a shriek, gasping. She balled up the fabric of her shirt and coughed, a false hope to properly retrieve air. She ran a hand over her face and spun to sit on the edge of her bed, the only provided light was the moon that shone bright through her blinds from above its wooden frame. The lines drew themselves across her hunched figure, shoulders beginning to slow with the rise and fall of her every breath. She looked over at the alarm clock sitting on her nightstand.

3:00am.

Chewing on her cheek she reached for her phone and stared at it in thought. Her nimble fingers flipped it open and began searching through her contacts for her Irish friend. Penelope felt terrible. She felt like a nuisance, doing this from time to time. It wasn’t common, but it wasn’t uncommon, either. Her thoughts raced a few moments longer before she pressed the call button.

One ring. She bit down particularly hard, drawing blood. Maybe I shouldn’t do this.

Two rings. What if he gets irritated with me?

Three rings. Her heart picked up its pace, skipping a beat. I don’t want to upset him…

Four rings. I shouldn’t do this -

“Penny?” Her heart dropped at the sound of his groggy voice.

“Hey…” She whispered into the phone. “I’m so - I’m sorry, I don’t mean to bother you…”

“‘Ey, ye know it don’t bother me none.” He noticed Penelope's hesitation. “How ye, luveen?”

“Can I come over? I - I can’t sleep.” She heard him sigh from over the phone and squeezed her eyes shut. She knew she shouldn’t have called. She knew he would be irritated. She knew -

“I thought we were past ye havin’ to ask.” She could hear him rustling in his bed in the background. “Come on, then.”

The earthy smell of the apartment was what began to calm her down first. It was subtle, relaxing. Fitting for her friend, though he himself wasn’t quite subtle. Penelope laid the uncovered side of her face on one of the pillows of the queen bed, curled into herself protectively. She felt the bed dip behind her, followed by a stronger waft of that same smell.

Her heart began to slow just knowing that she wasn’t alone, knowing that she was with someone she trusted. It was something that Liam could provide more easily than Emma. He was just a couple of doors down while she lived twenty minutes out, so it had only been on more serious occasions that Penelope spent the night at her place. She decided to give Emma a break, just to push it on to Liam instead. And there was not one time that she didn’t feel guilty about it.

He stayed sitting up against the bed frame rather than lying down beside her. She could feel his stare as his hand gently tucked her short hair behind her ear, and it wasn’t until then that she closed her eye. What Penelope wasn’t aware of, however, was the turmoil that occurred in his own head.

He told himself that he was just doing his job, acting the part. That he didn’t truly care. That he wasn’t attached in any way, shape or form. And in the back of his mind, he felt guilt. Every hug he gave, every smile, every moment they shared. It just added on to one, big, chaotic lie. It was nothing new to him. He was a professional, after all. Yet this was different. This felt more personal. It stood out from all of the other jobs he accomplished in the past. That’s what concerned him the most.

-

“Don’t make another appointment. “

“I told her I would when -“

“Don’t make another appointment.” The brunette shot her a warning look. The acting mother could see the amount of conflict in her eye as it danced around the countertop. “You already know she doesn’t care, Penelope, why do you insist on wasting your money on a therapist who can’t even do their job!”

“I’ve told you why -“

“And I’m telling you it’s irrational!” The shop went silent. The tension was thick. It drowned out the ambience, the cars, the clock. Penelope’s vision blurred and she sniffed, running a hand through her hair to find something, anything, to do besides acknowledge the topic of discussion.

It was rare when Emma raised her voice, for them to bicker. But the woman had enough of seeing her friend suffering unnecessarily. She could tell that Penelope’s ‘therapist’ was doing more harm than good, and she was determined to put an end to it.

“Penny…” The softness of Emma’s voice did nothing to calm her down, but was needed when the tears spilled over. “I’m just -“ She sighed to recompose herself. “I’m just trying to help you, sweetheart.” Penelope sucked on her bottom lip and just nodded, trying to hold everything in. Emma took hold of her shoulders and gently pulled her in, her own eyes glazing over at the sound of her sobs finally breaking.

Once things started dying down the bell at the door went off and Emma snapped her head in its direction, only for her shoulders to drop when it was just Liam. His eyebrows scrunched together at the sight of them and he pointed to Penelope in a silent question. When Emma slowly shook her head he gave a knowing look and walked around the counter to join them, resting a hand on their mutual friend’s back.

“Liam?” Penelope sniffed.

“Aye.” His thumb began to rub against the thick material of her jacket and she sighed.

“What time is it?” Liam glanced at the watch on his wrist.

“Almost quarter ‘til five.” Emma looked between the two of them and offered Liam a small grin.

“I’ll let you go, Penny.” She whispered, causing the woman to look up with a large eye.

“But the -?” The brunette shook her head, still holding the same smile.

“It’s just twenty minutes, hun.” She giggled as Penelope pulled away.

“Okay…” She glanced over at Liam, then back at Emma. “Thank you…” Liam used the hand on her back to guide her out of the shop, keeping it there as he opened the passenger door of his car parked along the side of the road. “Where are we going, Liam?” She asked when they drove past their apartment building. He took a deep breath, gaze focused on the road.

“You’ll see.” He threw her a smirk before turning on the radio. She decided to leave it be and looked out of her window, chin resting in the palm of her hand as the city blurred by. She noticed how the further they drove, the darker the buildings became, how they looked more and more run down and abandoned.

“Liam?” The man hummed.

“Why are we in The Narrows?”

“Short cut?” He shrugged and a familiar body of water gradually came into view. Penelope grew more confused.

“I thought it was a weekend thing?”

“It is.” He parked the car and stepped out to open her door, helping her stand before shutting it. “I juss found somethin’ I thought ye’d like.” His long strides moved in the direction of a smaller building in the distance, no greater than the size of a small cabin. She had to trot a bit to catch up to him and he chuckled at the action. He jiggled his keys once he pulled them out and smiled when he inserted one in the lock of the door, twisting until they heard a ‘click’ to open it. The door squeaked as it pushed open and Penelope’s jaw dropped at the sight before her.

There was a strong smell of fresh wood and new furniture, and that was exactly what they had walked into. The exterior of the building was deceiving to those who walked by. It blended in perfectly. Rusty metal walls, finicky doors and broken windows. But it was all an illusion. Inside, the house was pristine. It was no larger than her current living space, if anything it was smaller with its studio layout, but it certainly was an upgrade. It held a darker tone with subtle yellow accents that were strategically placed. Nothing felt too extravagant nor too cheap. It was simply moderate.

“Didn’t take as long as I thought it would, to be completely honest.” The door shutting behind them helped Penelope come to. He watched her expressions, but he couldn’t decipher them.

“What is this?” The woman whispered in awe as she stepped further into the room.

“Erm -“ Liam made a face. “Consider it yer home away from home?” Penelope immediately whipped around to face him.

“Mine?!” Her friend reached for her good hand and slapped a set of keys into her palm, then forced it shut and patted it.

“That is what I said.” His mouth opened when he noticed a panic start to set in her eye.

“Liam, I can’t - what - how am I gonna pay for it?! This is too much!”

“Who said anythin’ ‘bout ye payin’ fer it?”

“Who is, then?” She noticed the look he gave her and she vigorously shook her head in disapproval. “No. No - you’re not paying for two places, Liam. That’s not -“ She let out an exasperated sigh and looked up at him with a pleading eye. “Liam…”

“Technically, my boss is payin’ fer it. I’m juss handlin’ the process.” Her eye squinted at him.

“Yeah, that’s - Liam, that’s how paychecks work.” Liam rolled his eyes and let out a short chuckle before spinning her around by her shoulders.

“Look around before it gets dusty.” Her fingers anxiously fiddled with the new keys as she curiously wandered around the place.

Everything seemed to be perfectly put together, exactly how she would’ve wanted it if she were to have decorated it herself. The cushions of the plush couch placed along a wall were soft, not too hard or too fluffy. Similar to her own apartment, a coffee table sat in front of it with a rug laid beneath both.

The small kitchen was the cleanest one she had ever seen with its stainless steel refrigerator and marble countertops. A petite walk-in closet was built in at the end of the counter containing jars of spices and various bottles of oils and sauces. Penelope already had an array of dinners and desserts planned out in her head with everything already stocked.

She continued to the back of the room and plopped onto the queen bed that was tucked away, a somewhat bland dark oak bed frame complimenting it along with two nightstands with matching lamps. Her head turned to the side towards the bathroom, protected by a privacy window that slid open as opposed to a wall. With a glazed eye her head moved back up towards the ceiling with a lopsided grin.

“Ye like it?” She heard Liam’s footsteps grow louder until they stopped at the end of the bed.

“I could get used to this…” She mumbled more to herself before she spoke somewhat louder to Liam. “I don’t know if I want to go back.”

“Ye don’t have to.” She shuffled over to allow him room to lie down next to her, now both of them staring up at the ceiling. “It’s a closer walk to the shop.” He attempted to convince her.

“But more dangerous.”

“Not if ye have a car.”

“You know I don’t have a car.” He shrugged.

“Juss a thought.” They then sat in the quietness of it all, thinking to themselves. Now this was a common occurrence. The two of them basking in the other’s presence to ease the day’s tensions. The moments of silence they had when they first started talking were awkward, at least for Penelope. But Liam, as extroverted as he was, had a way of easily sparking up a conversation should things start to go awry. He was her opposite. Her compliment. Where she failed, he succeeded and vice versa. It was the reason their relationship had grown so quickly, Penelope came to realize.

They always learned from each other and grew to understand the other person’s side of things. For one, Penelope taught him how peaceful silence really could be if chosen at the right time. Liam, on the other hand, taught her the difference between being rude and standing up for herself. She was slower at learning than he was, but he never blamed her or grew frustrated with her for it.

Liam looked over at Penelope, examining her before he spoke. “I need ye to promise me somethin’, Penny.”

“Yeah?” She then turned her own head towards him.

“Ye can’t tell no one else ‘bout this place.” Penelope sat up on her right elbow in curiosity, Liam following suit.

“Why’s that?”

“I mean fer it to be a safe haven fer ye.” He watched her expression grow soft, glossy with parted lips as she gradually realized what he meant. “If anythin’ should happen, Penny. Anythin’. Ye call me and we’ll come straight here. Or just run, if need be. I’ll know soon enough and come lookin’ fer ye.”

“What about Emma?” He began shaking his head before she could even finish. It confused her, sure, but she knew that there was more to why he did this. There was a reason no one else could know, and even if she didn’t know why, she knew it was important. So she decided to comply and keep her mouth shut.

She turned onto her knees and hooked her arm around his neck, hugging him as best she could. She could feel him tense at first before he grew acquainted with the feeling and returned it. He heard a heavy sniff from where her head rested against his shoulder and he pulled back slightly to look at her. He quickly realized that she wasn’t crying because she was troubled, she was crying because she was grateful. She couldn’t remember the last time someone went to this great of a length for her happiness, her protection, since the accident. It filled her with a melancholic feeling that she just couldn’t ignore.

“I promise.” Penelope finally answered with a gentle smile as Liam brought a thumb up to brush away her tears.

“Ye hungry?”

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Loyalty

A/N: I got inspiration for this piece from the Tumblr account @xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx​ (I got their permission to tag them!) however I think they’re a wonderful writer and always one of the top ones with a huge amount of Gerard x Reader fics that I keep on crawling back to. They have a work called “Gotham City Rivals” (with two parts) that I fell in love with and decided to do my own spinoff of with their idea. I also don’t know that much about any DC comics, most of Gerard’s character in this is based off of Bruce Wayne, but I didn’t do a bunch of research so I apologize for any inaccuracies. Hope you guys enjoy! Pairing: Batman!Gerard x Catwoman!Reader Word count: 2,781 Warnings: Angst, minor fighting, swear words, injury, mentions of blood.

You slipped off your skin tight suit with a harsh gasp, your teeth grinding together at the rough cuts that the latex and leather of your suit now brushed against. Yet the sounds of a hot shower and the steam that you could already see promised some element of relief to the pain. “You alright?” You heard your boyfriend walk in the room, armor still on in it’s completion besides his mask and gloves that he was currently carelessly throwing on the marble counter.

“Yeah, I think so.” You responded, examining the damage of your wounds in the mirror. “Not the worse I’ve taken.” Reflecting back on the various gun shots and stabs you’ve received over the years.

He came over, standing behind you. His metal armor always looked so good on him, solid black with small decals that you felt lucky enough you only got to see. He gave small kisses on the cuts and bruises along your shoulder and collarbones. It wasn’t in a sexual way, more in a caring one.

He finally decided to take off his suit as well, revealing his soft muscles but well built frame. You always found it funny how comic and cartoon artists portrayed real life heroes. They ignore your hip dips, made your waist the size of a pencil, and even overemphasized your boobs. And with Gerard, well, he was actually a lot like what artists portrayed him as, maybe just a little less triangle shaped.

“Next time,” You sighed as you look at him in the mirror that was now fogging with steam, his eyes on yours through the reflection, “You’re taking more hits.” He lightly laughed.

“Fine.” He agreed with a kind smile, “If you insist.”

“I’ve told you a million times, Gerard, I don’t know anything about those two!” You paced around his marble office trying to explain to him, “They are batshit crazy. They hold no patterns, no compunction, it’s part of their game and it makes it fun for them.” Your feet hastily moved back and forth on the gray tiled floor, the only light source was the sun creeping through the gray clouds outside and small desk-lamps around the large room.

“You’ve worked with her a few times,” He argued back from across his desk where he sat, “You have to know something.” “Those ‘two times’ happened probably five years ago, and it was exchanging files for some cash that’s it.” You sighed, “They don’t have a plan, ever, that’s what I’m telling you. Gerard, I know you’re incredibly smart and think with a plan. And the Joker’s really fucking smart too, but he’s also mentally insane and has no grip on himself other than to kill. He’s like a wild fucking animal.” Your boyfriend leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh, his finger holding his temple together as he collected himself. “If I could help you on this, you know I would in a heartbeat.”

“Would you though?” His anger was growing, both he and you knew it. In fact, the entire room and all its objects were now drowning in the tension.

“What?” You asked barely above a whisper and through teeth clenched together, eyebrows furrowing as your vision grew red. There was no response. “If you’re questioning the integrity of my current work then fuck off. You’re too scared to kill the man, and now you’re gonna put some of this one me?” You snapped, he remained emotionless. Damn he was good at his job. “Go fuck yourself Gerard.” And with that, you stormed out of the room and up to your shared bedroom.

This stupid mansion he lived in was still a maze to you, and stomping through it in your utter fit of rage didn’t help, the sound of your feet bouncing off the large halls. It made your head want to explode.

You had never once blown up on him in your two years of dating and partnership. But never had he ever questioned your morals, or more importantly your loyalty. And you were expecting some form of an apology in the least.

Sure, you felt a little bad about bringing up his own methods of working. He had his extremely valid reasons, but it was a button to push in response to him pushing yours. You knew you would apologize eventually, but you needed him to come to you first.

After all, he was the one acting like a child. It was almost like an interrogation of you, despite the fact you had told him countless times that you knew nothing about the Joker or Harley. Other than the two deals you made with them in your early days for some extra money, those two were wild cards.

So you sat in the absurdly big California king with decorated in a gray and black and decided to do some breathing exercises so you didn’t use the wall as a knife throwing target.

It was hours, no, more than hours before you saw your lover again. And if it wasn’t for your stomach grumbling in hunger you would’ve stayed cooped up in the room. You wandered your way into the grand kitchen, beginning to look for whatever you could.

Grabbing a cookie from a batch you had baked just the day before, you began brewing some coffee for yourself. Of course you didn’t hear Gerard walk in, since you two had begun this whole partner/dating thing he had begun picking up on some of your specialties, such as being extremely quiet. On missions and such you were thankful for it, considering his armor was quite clunky, but now you regretted it.

The two of you didn’t even acknowledge each other’s presence, despite the fact that you were only a few feet a way. It was like a silent game, but just completely ignoring each other. It was like the other person didn’t even exist.

But the tension was a whole other level. You literally felt suffocated by how tense it was. And you knew your lover felt the same. With the extremely small glances you took you were able to piece together how he was definitely a form of uncomfortable, his emotions starting to break through, which you knew they would eventually.

You decided once your drink was done to leave the room, leaving Gerard and the extreme conflict behind. Well, some of it at least. And back in your room you grew bored, fast.

You didn’t want to show your weak side, determination to not be the first to apologize flowed through your veins. So, you decided to relieve your stress the way you always did.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You heard Gerard’s voice echo through the hallway next to you. Your skintight suit hugged your body, kitten heels hitting the ground in rhythm.

“Going out.” You replied.

“In your suit?” He questioned, this time grabbing your arm tightly with his hand. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh?” You questioned, turning to him and eyeing him through your mask, “And what are you gonna do about it?”

“Don’t test me.” He warned, his voice growing deep. This time, you pulled your arm harshly from his grip, which he didn’t fight back.

“That’s what I thought.” You spat, walking off.

Patrols were not the most enjoyable thing, the only time they were was when you were stressed and needed something to take your mind off of all your problems. A relationship limiting argument between you and your boyfriend was a perfect example.

Very rarely, if ever, did big stuff happen in Gotham. Small crimes like robberies, domestic cases, so on and so forth could be dealt with by the excuse of a police department the city had to offer. You were wondering when the federal government would finally come and kick a shoe up their ass.

It was funny, Gerard with all his power, I mean being the Gerard Way (despite the fact absolutely no one knew he was Batman) still couldn’t convince major officials to bring in more backup despite his numerous requests hidden in comments within conversations. The excuse was always that Gotham didn’t need help: they had Batman.

And let’s not forget his stealthy partner who did a lot of the work as well, the wonderful Catwoman who always got overlooked by the patriarchal influences that still flushed their way into society today. You scoffed at it.

On your earpiece you heard an incoming for an “escalating situation” at one of the prisons, which was just icing on the already destroyed caked for “a bunch of dangerous prisoners just got out.” Great.

It took you less than five minutes to be at the scene, strutting in and flashing your badge. It wasn’t that you actually needed one, it was just for good measure.

You got led through the dozens of police cars lining the outside of the prison all with flashing lights and a few sirens still going, escorted by one of the main detective inside where you were met with another officer talking to the one and only man himself.

Those hazels eyes hidden well under the mask looked up and met yours, softening just a bit from the black optics of Batman’s as you approached him. “Catwoman.” He said in a stern tone.

“Batman.” You responded the same, arms crossed over your chest.

You were briefed on the situation: A bunch of highly dangerous criminals did escape and were on the loose. The police felt that they needed help because some may or may not have ties to the Joker, therefore it made it a case for you and Gerard to deal with.

“Be careful,” Gerard told you, the two of you walking side by side in the street on patrol and looking out, “I don’t want you getting hurt again.” “Please,” You scoffed, “These guys probably have guns and a destructed god complex. I don’t see a problem.” “Some of these are former Arkham patients.” He warned, “They could be dangerous. And crazy.” “Like we haven’t dealt with that before.” You reminded him, “Or more specifically me, because I could have connections, ya know?” A verbal stab for sure. He looked over and glared.

“We’re not having this conversation right now.” “So when we get home are you finally going to grow up and have one after the entirety of today?”

“I told you-” Before he could even finish the two of you were surrounded by men with guns and various other forms of highly illegal weaponry. “Shit.” He muttered.

“Yeah shit.” You responded as bullets began shooting towards you. A few of them managed to ricochet off of nearby metal beams hitting your attackers, while other nearly missed you as you managed to jump behind them. With a few solid kicks and swings you were able to disarm and knock out four or five of them, Gerard getting the other 10 of them or so considering his suit and physical ability was greater than yours.

“How many were there again?” You asked him.

“15.” He responded. You looked around, mentally counting the bodies.

“Perfect, 15.” You responded with a sigh. “Do they not know how to scatter?” He shook his head.

A deafening silence filled the car on your way home, the only thing being heard was the soft engine rumbling of the mobile. You were still going to be strong about this whole thing, despite the fact that you wanted it to be over with.

You looked around out of boredom, and down at your suit to see if there was any damage. And, well, there was more than damage. “Well, would you look at that,” You lightly laughed, looking at the left side of your torso where a big slash and blood was seeping through. You hadn’t noticed any pain or anything until you looked down.

“What the fuck?” He asked, looking down to from the road.

“Gee, pay attention to the road.” He reluctantly huffed and put his gaze back there.

“You have a huge fucking slash on your side.” “I know,” You commented, “Oh well, we’ll fix it when we get home.”

You hadn’t noticed his increase in speed or the extra few minutes he cut off as you pulled into the large and modern mansion. Before you could even step out of the car in the garage Gerard had already opened your car door and picked you up, carrying you bridal style.

“You know I can walk.” You lightly laughed, holding on to his arms, “I think it was just a bullet graze.”

“I don’t want you hurting yourself.” He placed you down on the couch, “Let me grab the first aid kit.”

He was gone for only a few moments, coming back with the kit in handy, no mask and gloves this time, with no time to remove his armor. It wasn’t a life threatening wound, that’s for sure. “May I?” He asked, motioning to the zipper on the back of your suit. It was so cute to you how he always asked, despite your years of being together. You nodded, moving your hair out of the way.

He took your suit off with ease, helping you step out despite the harsh feeling you got from the slash. Carefully he sat you back down, dabbing your wound with a bit of alcohol and making sure not to directly touch the affected area. There was a certain spot where he had to touch the wound with the cottonball. You couldn’t help but cringe and gasp at the painful feeling, shutting your eyes as it felt like your flesh was burning. “I’m sorry baby.” He commented, squeezing your thigh for support. “You’re doing so great.”

It took him only a few more minutes, and the two of you deciding stitches may be stretching it too far, for you to finally be all bandaged up. You slowly got up, Gerard coming right to you and helping to hold your hips up. “I would suggest a bath but-” “Not a good idea.” You lightly laughed, placing your head on his shoulder. “Thank you.” You mumbled.

“No problem.” He responded, kissing the top of your head. “You alright?” You nodded as he picked you up again, taking you to the bedroom to rest.

He placed you lightly on the bed while removing the covers on the side you always slept. You crawled into the open area he had created, placing your wounded body onto the sheets and covering it up. “Do you want some pajamas?” He asked, now removing some of his suit, his unbrushed and tangled black hair fell just below his eyes.

“Yeah, actually,” You lightly smiled, “If you wouldn’t mind. This sports bra is kinda tight.” He nodded, walking into your closet and grabbing some sweatpants, while walking into his own to grab an old t-shirt, knowing those were your favorite things to wear.

He gave them to you, and stood there watching to which you rolled your eyes, “C’mon now, turn around.” You instructed, his eyes went wide with a form of embarrassment, “You don’t get to see my tits, yet.” He sighed, complying with you as you slipped your bra off and shirt on in a few seconds.

You decided against pants, considering that would take a lot of extra effort. So you just pulled the covers over you, sinking back in. “You can turn around now.” And Gerard did, looking at you with the shirt on and residing to his own side of the bed next to you.

You chose a petty play next, completely ignoring him, waiting for an apology. “I’m sorry.” He said, leaning back on the frame of the bed and looking at you. You looked back at him signaling him to do more explaining, “I’m sorry for questioning your loyalty and moral of your work. I know those two things matter to you very much, and I had no right to question either of those.” You took a moment to let the words settle in.

“Thank you,” You responded, “I’m sorry for bringing up the way you work. I know why you do it and I, too, didn’t have the right to do that either.” “Thank you.” He responded, both of you taking sighs of relief as most of the tension alleviated. “I love you.” He told you next. It had taken him a full year to speak those wonderful three words to you, and whenever he said them you always cherished the way they sounded.

“I love you too.” You responded with a small smile, placing your head on his shoulder which he happily complied with.

[pl-panda]

The vines that bind us - Chapter 5

Chapter 1 || Previous || NEXT

“Yes.” Riddler seethed. “And I really don’t like it when someone uses mine in their ridiculous stories. Now, which of you can tell me where I can find Lila Rossi?”

Some cruel part of Mari wanted to laugh. Leave it to Lila’s lies to get the attention of one of the Rogues of Gotham. And Riddler of all people. That guy had an ego the size of Amusement Mile. He would definitely not take kindly to anyone telling tales about outsmarting him. 

The kinder part, which was domineering, worried about her classmates. Edward Nygma was an unpredictable sociopath. Her mother always warned her against him. Gotham underworld could’ve been separated into three categories: Criminals, Goal-oriented, and Madmen. The first ones were usually greedy mobsters and thieves, such as Catwoman, uncle Floyd or Penguin. They were in it for profit or thrill and could easily be reasoned with. Poison Ivy often dealt with criminals when she needed something. The second category were those who had a goal and would stop at nothing to achieve it. Marigold’s mother was one of them, as were uncles Slade and Doctor Fries. The last category contained the worst part of Gotham’s underworld like Joker, Scarecrow, or Riddler, who cared only about carnage and chaos. She was always warned to stay away from them because they had no respect for anyone or anything and she would run at the risk of great harm. 

Riddler ordered his people to spread through the room. Mari counted at least two dozen. It was bad. The employees were gathered into smaller groups guarded by three mooks. The guns were ready to fire. She really wished there was at least some flower in a glass. She could feel Tikki shifting under her suit. One look at Adrien told her Plagg was similar. The kwamis were worried for their holders. Chloe was the only one calm. She sat there with crossed legs and did her nails. Her steel nerves were incredible. Or would be if it did not attract Riddler.

“You!” He pointed his cane at the blonde. “Riddle me this. What happens to a small stone when it works ups some courage?”

“Wait. You’re speaking to me?” The girl asked. Riddler was a little baffled, but the cane was still pointing right at her. “Ridiculous! Utterly Ridiculous!” Chloe stared at the criminal. “If you think I have time to play some stupid trivia game… I mean seriously? Stones are dead. They can’t have courage.”

Mari facepalmed loudly. Leave it to Chloe to try and antagonize a madman with a gun pointed at her. 

“Tsk tsk tsk. Wrong answer.” Riddler tried to press some button on the grip, but there was only dull sound. “What in the world?”

“Wait! I… I know where to find Lila Rossi!” Mari shouted, hoping to get Riddler’s attention away from Chloe before he managed to repair the gun. The class started to give her murderous glares. Adrien looked at her curiously.

“Oh! Do tell!” The criminal turned to her. When he hit the cane into the ground there was a loud sound of a gunshot that made everyone jump. The ground was now smoking. “Useless junk!”

“She is still in her office! I can lead you to her if you let my friends go.” 

“Ha! Do you think me a fool? As if…”

“A little boulder.” Mari interrupted him. 

“Oh. So you are smart. What about this: The person who makes it has no need of it; the person who buys it has no use for it. The person who uses it can neither see nor feel it. What is it?”

“A coffin,” Mari said with a bit of hesitation sneaking into her voice. Why in the world was she trying to save Lila again?

“Good.” Riddler looked at her for a moment. “Fine. I will go with you. But if you try to deceive me…”

“Coffin?” Mari asked with a smile. Riddler frowned so she quickly returned to the scared expression. 

The villain motioned for eight of his men to follow him and led Mari to the elevator. She was constantly at the gunpoint. Mari had to think quickly. She could try to lose them at the one fo the office levels or… she knew for certain where to find two living plants in the building. With a shaking hand, she pressed the top button. When Nygma gave her a raised eyebrow she shrugged.

“You must’ve heard about her dating youngest Mr. Wayne.” Mari lied swiftly. 

“There was something about it on that cursed blog.” He mumbled. 

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

Slowly, the machine went up. The tensions were high and Mari for a moment wondered if revealing her heritage would be enough to scare them. Ultimately, she decided to keep it as an additional shock when they got to the office. She really hoped Mr. Drake would be kind enough to hide under his bulletproof desk and not fire her when he learned who her mother was. Oh well, it’s not like she needed that job too much. 

The elevator paused one level below their destination, but the doors did not open and it refused to go higher. Her tablet started to beep. With all the stress, she forgot she had it on her the whole time.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

Slowly, she opened the tablet. An icon was blinking at her. When she pressed it, a video of them in the elevator popped up. 

A large number of people without authorization in the elevator. Do you approve? Yes No

She pressed yes and the elevator started moving. She should really get some manuals for this thing. When the doors opened, she looked around. It was time for the show. She strode to the doors leading to Mr. Drake’s office. The Riddler and his mooks followed her. She pushed the doors open and immediately screamed.

“Get down!”

Rolling to the side, she pushed her powers to the limit, allowing the plants to seep her energy and grow. Vines shot from the pots and quickly grabbed the guns. Riddler, seething with anger, aimed his cane, but another vine grabbed it and ripped it out of his hand. The three strongest henchmen managed to hold onto their guns and started firing, but Mari was already safe behind the bulletproof desk. Good thing it was mentioned in the notes she inherited from Sarah.

She heard a loud cracking sound and felt that one of the plants just lost their pot. She silently promised it a more comfortable one and thanked for the sacrifice. Her green skin was now in full view. Accidentally, she pressed something on the tablet and now it showed the image from the lobby. She could see that the remaining henchmen were firing at something outside. The muzzles of their guns were flashing. Angry, Mari grabbed one of the drawers and ripped it from the desk. She leaned out from behind her cover and tossed it with full force. The projectile sailed through the air spinning before hitting the middle henchman in the center of his face. He fell down firing the gun all around the place. She could definitely hear something fragile breaking. Oh well. As long as she’s not the one paying…

The vines knocked out all but one henchman who was slowly backing away toward the elevator while firing at whatever plant got close. Riddler was now hanging by his ankles and wildly flailing his hands. The video of the elevator showed he was now there and resting. He thought her friends wouldn’t reach him. How cute!

Mari walked away from her cover and slowly approached the elevator. She heard the fashion disaster grasp when he saw her in her true form, but paid him no mind for now. She only had the vines gag him. The girl pulled the ninjato from its hiding place and smiled. When she pressed the elevator button, the criminal aimed his gun at her. She quickly leaned to the side while hitting the rifle with the palm of her hand. At the same time, she stabbed him in the leg with the sword. While he was screaming in pain she could easily rip the gun from him and then hit him with it, knocking him out. 

The bluenette looked at the gun with disgust. Clenching her hand, she crushed the barrel before dropping it on the floor and approaching Riddler. The plants turned him around and restrained his arms.

“You! You tricked me!” He shouted as soon as his mouth was uncovered.

“Yes.” Marigold smiled sweetly. “Is that a problem?”

“You… Oh no no no! That won’t do! I can stand being outsmarted by Batman. I will not be defeated by some schoolgirl with feeble meta-powers playing Poison-Iy look-alike. For a moment I thought you were her.”

“Look-alike?” the girl asked. “I don’t look that… Just because I have green skin I’m suddenly Poison Ivy look-alike?” She shouted at riddler.

“The hair is wrong, but otherwise your face is very similar.”

“What?” Not believing him, Mari walked over to where she left her tablet and looked. True, her face changed a bit. She still had some of her qualities that easily marked her as Marinette, but her face was no longer that round, instead taking a more oval shape. Her nose was now smaller and lips fuller. She really looked more similar to her mother. And yeah, the green skin made it obvious.

“You’re done preening yourself?” 

“Sure. Now let’s go back to the fact you attacked my friends and made my first day at work even worse!” Her steel gaze rested on Riddler, who felt very uneasy. The vines squeezed his wrists and ankles a bit.

Gulp! “On second thought, I have nothing against preening. The look is important after all…”

“Said the guy with Hawaiian shirt under a suit.” Mari deadpanned. “I don’t have time for this.” She asked one of the vines to smack him in his head, swiftly knocking the supervillain out. With that out of the way, she walked over to the plants and thanked each of them individually. She gently picked the one with a smashed pot and placed it with the other one. 

“Now can you behave for one night? I promise I will get both of you better pots tomorrow.” Mari giggled when both of them hugged her with their leaves. Tikki floated out of her pocket. 

“Marigold! I was so worried! They were armed and you were not Ladybug! There would be no cure if something happened!” 

“Don’t worry Tikki. I had a plan. Mostly…” She looked around the devastated office and her equally devastated workplace. 

“But now your boss will know your secret!” 

“You know what?” Mari smiled. “I don’t care. I’m Marigold Isley and this is Gotham, not Paris.”

“But the word will get out!”

“It will anyway since I’m going to search for my mother Tikki.” The girl tried to calm the frantic mini-goddess.

“Fine.” Bug-like spirit huffed before zipping around the room, passing through the head of each and every henchman, ending her trip with Riddler. “There! They will remember how you took them all down with some martial arts.” 

“You’re the best Tikki!” Mari hugged her Kwami to her cheek. The mini-god nuzzled affectionately. 

Marigold willed the green to disappear from her skin and have the hair return to normal. Eyes were always the hardest, but she got the green under some control. Quickly checking the video feed from the lobby, she saw that there was no more firing, but Police did not yet enter. They must’ve been waiting for the bat. 

Looking around, she finally realized that her boss was nowhere to be seen. Strange. She could’ve sworn he was still in his office when she left. While possible that he left shortly after, he would’ve been in the lobby and he wasn’t. The other option was that he went straight to the garage, which was possible. After all, the CEO ought to have some luxurious car. Yeah, that’s probably right. 

She pulled her phone and typed 911. Time to get some professional help. 

“Nine one one, what’s your emergency?”

“Hi! I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m on the top floor of Wayne Enterprises with a knocked out Riddler and some of his men. If you could please connect me to whoever is leading the negotiations?”

“Madame, this is not a joking matter.” The voice in her phone scolded her.

“Do you believe I’m joking? I’m standing here with a bloodied ninjato and eight men unconscious men plus Edward Nygma who decided to become a fashion disaster since I’ve last seen him.” Marigold answered in a harsher tone. “Today I had one of the most stressful days of my life. First, instead of being an intern I suddenly got hired as a Personal Assistant, then I had to explain to Lex freaking Luthor that I’m not a doormat. If that was not enough, I’m stuck in this job for six! Months! Add to that, because of some mistake in communication Damian Wayne decided to attack me with ninjato. After that Security was really unhelpful. I finish my first day of work only to have Riddler parade into the building just as we were to leave. And I had to improvise because he was about to shoot my friend who, while I love her, needs to learn to shut her mouth sometimes!” Mari shouted, putting all of her frustration and withheld anger into it.

“I’m sorry madame. I will check what I can…”

“You can connect me to whoever leads the police downstairs or I can toss them Riddler from the top of Wayne Tower.” Mari was honestly done. She would do it. Chloe said it herself that it was a tall building. 

“Listen here you little…” Whoever she was speaking to was suddenly cut off and she heard a different voice.

“Gordon here. Who’s that.”

“Are you the police officer in charge down there?”

“What you mean down there? I thought we managed to evacuate everyone from the upper floors!”

“Oh. Good. I was worried about how many people he actually held hostage. I’m on the top floor with a knocked out riddler and some of his men. I don’t exactly have anything to tie them up with…”

“How exactly did you end up up there!” The man asked. “Is batman with you?”

“He was about to shoot one of my friends so I lied to him and got him to follow me to the elevator. I used a moment when he was distracted to take him out.”

“Madame. I really hope it’s not some joke.”

“I…” She wanted to speak, but there was some static on the other side of the line

“Miss Dupain-Cheng. This is Batman.” For a moment she was unsure how to answer. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

“I need you to try and tie the men you got up there. They will probably regain consciousness soon. Do you have zip-ties or at duct tape in your office?”

“Not that I’m aware. It’s my first day. Oh! I can use their jackets!”

“Do that. Riddler’s men downstairs are unaware of what happened with you. If they get wind of their boss being defeated, we don’t know what will happen.”

“Rodger that.” She proceeded to tie them up until Riddler was the one now having his hands bound by the suit he wore. His were tied with really strong vines. She would not risk anything. “Batman? are you there?” Mari asked to her phone. 

“Yes.” Came after a moment. “Are all of them tied?”

“Yes. I used the destroyed plant for Riddler. I thought we could benefit from him still wearing his suit somehow.”

“I sent Robin your way, Miss. He will be coming through the vents. Please try not to attack him on sight.” Batman said in a tired voice. She suspected there was a story behind it, but she was too tired to care. Awkwardly, she took a seat in her chair, which now had several bullet holes but was still mostly comfortable. The waiting was killing her. She was all alone in a room full of downed henchmen.

“Um… So how is your day Batman?” She asked, wanting to break the silence. 

“...” There was no answer at first. “It was mostly fine until Nygma showed up.” More silence. “I heard from Nightwing that he would have a hilarious story to tell once he got home. I’m not sure if I should already be worried or not.”

A smile forced its way onto Marigold’s face. She suddenly thought about Batman sitting in the middle of a room with the other members of Batfam running around playing tag. She did it once with Allegra and Claude when their parents had their get-togethers. 

A sound in the vent broke her out of reminiscing. She added two more names to the list of people she would have to track now that she was in Gotham. She picked the sword and slowly walked toward the vent. Batman warned her that Robin was coming, but one couldn’t be too cautious. 

A boy close to her age appeared. He was wearing a horrendous traffic light suit. At least his cloak was black on the outside and had a hood. The outfit first Robin wore was an even bigger disaster, so there was some progress. Maybe in ten Robins, she would actually be able to not be embarrassed to be seen in their presence. 

“Miss. Please don’t point the ninjato at me.” He asked when he stood up. 

“Sure. I didn’t want to get any surprises. What now?”

“Police is monitoring the situation downstairs. They wanted to enter with full force, but with so many hostages we’re afraid about casualties.” Robin spoke in a very formal tone. Too formal for her liking.

“I have the monitoring on my tablet.” She walked to the desk and showed him the feed. “I count fourteen hostiles. They are in six groups with two to three guns each.”

“I don’t need a lesson in tactics.” The vigilante got angry.

“And about motive? One of the interns posted a video about another intern helping you guys take Riddler down. He really didn’t like it. I’m plenty certain he came to kill her in a very dramatic way.”

“That… complicates things.” Came Batman’s voice. She forgot he was still on the line.

“Miss. Do you know who is the intern he is after?” The police officer asked.

“Lila Rossi. She is one of my classmates. She is the one that is now surrounded by a crowd of young people comforting her while she is crying crocodile tears.” Mari showed her at the screen to robin. “I got Riddler to come up here under the pretense of leading him to her. The floor would be mostly empty and my boss has a bulletproof desk.”

“Tt. And what exactly was that supposed to achieve?” Robin stared at her.

“Gee! I don’t know. Maybe he would no longer be pointing his gun at my best friend!?” She looked at him. “Not everyone carries Kevlar to work.”

“Robin!” Batman reprimanded him. 

“Fine.”

“We can’t give him what he wants, especially after you took him down, Miss,” Gordon spoke. “To be frank, I don’t see it ending any other way than a full-frontal assault. We have snipers in position and SWAT ready. They are only waiting for a green light.” A deep sigh made its way through the line. “I only regret how many lives it will put on the line.”

“What if we got some of them out?” An idea formed in Mari’s head.

“I don’t see it happening unless Riddler gives the command directly,” Gordon said in a solemn voice.

“Leave it to me.” Marigold was determined to save as many people as she could. She was so decking Lila for this situation.

The small girl stormed toward Riddler. She grabbed his shoulders and shook him violently. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

“What… You! You tricked me!”

“Yeah. Get used to it.” She picked her tablet and started recording. “You will give the command to your people to let half of the hostages go.”

“Riddle me…” Before he could finish, Marigold grabbed him by the laps of his jacket and dragged him toward the large window in Mr. Drake’s office. She dropped the criminal, picked the drawer, and smashed it into the window several times. There wasn’t even a scratch on the glass, but the drawer was now chipped in several places. She looked at it and shrugged.

“I’m out of patience today. You can either give the command or I will open the window with your face.”

“Miss! I can’t let��” Robin tried to intervene, but she pointed the drawer at him. 

“Shut up. I want this day to end.”

Since Riddler was still silent, she picked him by the scruff and was about to smash him. “Fine! Fine! Fine!” He shouted. “Bring me the walkie-talkie.” He pointed at one lying close.

“Do I look like an idiot to you? Record the message here.” 

“As you want.” He leaned closer to the tablet (or as close as she was willing to let him). “Let go of half the hostages.”

Mari stared at him unamused. She dropped him on the ground and walked to where the sword was dropped. After picking it she returned to where the villain was desperately trying to crawl away.

“Miss! Please cease it at once. We do not torture criminals!”

“No. You just pat them on their back and let them go.” She deadpanned and turned to Riddler.

“Really? Oh wow. That’s just cold.” She heard from the phone. A new voice joined Batman and Gordon.

“Wait!” Riddler squeaked. “Let go the number of hostages that would be half of seventy-five if half of five was three!” He shouted very loudly.

Mari nodded and handed the tablet to Robin. He already held a walkie-talkie. After he played the message, there was some ruffle on the other side, but Mari was too tired to care. The girl grabbed her tablet from Robin and opened the feed from the lobby. She saw some confused henchmen before one of them shrugged and started pushing people outside. When Marigold noted that Adrien and Chloe were among those who left the building she let the air out. Only then she realized that she was holding her breath.

“It worked! We got thirty-three out. That’s over half of them.” Gordon shouted ecstatic. “You are a hero miss! Branden! You’ve got your green light!” 

The girl had enough. She hanged up and pocketed her phone. Still holding the sword, she walked into the elevator. Mari didn’t press any buttons, but she leaned over the wall and started whistling a lullaby her mother used to sing her when she had a nightmare.

The memory of a soothing voice that carried her to sleep many times allowed her nerves to settle. She could feel adrenaline slowly leaving her body. The tension left her muscles one by one and she slowly slid to the ground. 

“Tt. It’s safe to go down.” Robin startled her. She immediately jumped and pointed the sword at him. The boy was clearly unamused by being threatened with a ninjato… again. Mari lowered her weapon and pressed the button that would take them to the lobby. 

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

When the doors opened, Mari was quickly tackled by a missile that was a worried Chloe Bourgeoise. “Mari! What were you thinking!?”

“I don’t know… Maybe that you were about to get shot?”

“Oh… right…” That shut Chloe up easily enough. 

“Excuse me, Miss Marinette?” An older man in a brown trench coat asked. He had a neatly cut beard and graying hair. “Commissioner Gordon. We spoke on the phone.” He extended a hand

“Ah. Yes. Thank you for trusting me.” Mari nodded and took the offered handshake.

“If not for you, casualties would definitely be higher.”

“Higher…” Mari repeated weakly.

“Oh! Um… Yes. I’m sorry, Miss. Some of our men got shot in the gunfight.”

“Will…” 

“There are also… Damn.” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“How many?” She could feel her eyes tearing.

“Three civilians and four security guards...”

“Seven…” She gave a barely audible whisper.

“I know this must be hard, but…”

Marigold was no longer listening. She left the building and walked to where the class was gathered.

“I’m telling you! She must be working with that madman. You’ve seen how quickly he trusted her!” Lila was talking loudly.

“Rossi.” The girl said in an emotionless voice. Kim and Ivan wanted to stand in her way like usual, but she pushed through them without breaking a sweat. 

“Didn’t you cause enough drama…” Lila never got a chance to end that sentence, because Mari delivered a straight one strong enough to send her flying several feet back before she came crashing down. Blood pouring from her nose.

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