#aura cowl

[zylev-blog]

“You’re late.” Danny turns around, looking at the space his nephew now occupied.

Batman frowns, then sighs. He runs a hand across his head, where his hair would be if the cowl wasn’t there. “I know, I got caught up with—“

“I’m not interested in your excuse.” He cut off Batman, “You’re never punctual anyway.”

“Mom never cared.” Batman deflected.

“Of course she didn’t. She’s a Fenton; we’re always late, it’s just part of our biology.” He crossed his arms as he tilted his head, the crown on top of his head brushing against his hair with the movement.

“Have you found her soul yet?” Batman—Bruce asked.

“Not yet. I know she’s been reborn, but I haven’t tracked it down. I’m beginning to wonder if she ended up on a different planet from ours.”

“We’ll know it when we see it.” Bruce agreed, “Until then, we do nothing.”

“Hmm.” He grunted. “How are your children?”

“They’re doing good. Damian is adjusting well. You can always meet them, you know.” Bruce offered.

“I can’t.” He denied, “Most of them aren’t blood related. Being around me for an extended amount of time would sap their life force until they were liminal. They don’t deserve that.”

“I know,” Bruce huffed, “I just wish…”

“I know, Bruce.” He put his hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “Being fully dead and the ghost king is…not always fun.” He finished lamely.

“It’s okay. You did what you could after mom and dad died.”

The air between them was sad. He wished he could say something, anything, but there was nothing left to say. As much as Danny wished he could be with his nephew’s children, it just wasn’t possible. Being the ghost king might have saved the multiverse, but the cost was that he couldn’t be around his family. The only one would be Damian, Bruce’s blood son, since ectoplasm in his veins from Jazz would protect against his aura. Bruce’s other children wouldn’t have that luxury, and he would never risk his family’s health like that.

It was a good thing Gotham owed him a favor, and she watched over them for him instead.

[flamingpudding]

Cassiopea and Orion #3

#1 #2

A/N: Finally got some time to continue working on this... to be honest this was pieced together through a bunch of different lunch break writings... sorry if that shows. Also @kizzer55555 totally love your addition on #2! Honestly I squealed when I read it! You were nearly spot on on what I had in mind to where I wanted to go with this story line. Tho I hope you don't mind that I took a bit of inspiration from you while writing some parts of this.

A/N2: Also you guys *sigh of fondness for the dpxdc fandom* originally I wasn't going to tag it just yet but I guess I will now, even if I have no experience writing it and only tried to sort of hint at it a bit for readers interpretations: Spirit Halloween 👻

Ellie frowned watching these people, still sitting on her spot on the railing. Once their initial excitement quieted down and the seriousness of the situation took over, she was left with nothing more to do than to watch the situation unfold before her. A part of her was surprised about the amount of information the big bad bee had on Danny. Some of which she thought was information that previously only Tucker, Sam and Jazz had. But apparently Ellie had been wrong.

Massively wrong by the amount of information she was seeing here. How long had Danny truly been in contact with this guy? There had to have been more than just the occasional phone calls she had caught him on. Did that mean this guy also knew about Dan? About the GIW? About the Infinite Realms? If he knew about all this why, why didn't he help sooner? Why hadn't Danny made contact with this guy sooner either? She did notice him pausing at certain points before continuing like nothing was happening. It didn't look like the onlookers minded, but to Ellie it was an indicator that big bad bee knew more.

She stayed silent the entire time, only muttering a correction ever now on then when she did note that the guy's information was outdated. Still something bothered her the entire time. Ellie didn't know what it was exactly, but the grim faces of the onlookers and the stoic nearly cold sounding explanation of big bad bee rubbed her wrong.

It was only at the end of it that she realize what it was exactly that had bothered her so much.

"What about family? Does she have anyone else left?" One of the onlookers asked and Ellie's head snapped up towards them. That sounded like... no, they weren't...

"According to her, Phantom lost his haunt. Including the code she gave to Robin, we can assume that there is no other safe place left. Unless..." Armored furry turned towards her, and Ellie stiffened only slightly as it appeared that they were finally going to address her again. "What is the status of Plasimus."

"You know about him too huh..." She muttered, not looking at any of them. "Castle is gone, whereabouts unknown, Mom was worried that he was one of the first after the first one of no contact, but that's not confirmed. Nothing turned up to indicate that."

Ellie didn't look up to see the reaction in regards to this information she shared but her head did snap up at the next words she heard. "And your brother?"

Wide eyed she stared at the man that had moved and was now before her, hands carefully placed on her shoulders as he bended down slightly to be on her eye level. Her mind was racing. He knew! This man knew about Dan. Distantly she heard one of the onlookers complain that in all the Infromation Bee had given them he had not mentioned about Ellie having a brother. She didn't react on that, instead searching that man's face despite it being half covered by a bat shaped cowl.

She wasn't sure what she was searching for but she wasn't finding it. Now she wished she had paid more attention to Grandma Pandoras lessons on Aura reading. Dan was in Far Frozen, put into stasis and protected and cared for by Frostbite and his tribe. The other ghosts were looking out for him too, they would do the same for her if she had a way into the Ghost Zone but both portals were gone and Danny, Wulf and Cujo were the only ones currently able to open portals. She wasn't even sure if they knew what Danny had done to protect her.

As her mind wandered Ellie did not realise that the people around her took her silence as some kind of answer. She did not realise how those she doubted onlookers shared grim and saddened looks. Nor how the man before her squeezed her shoulders ever so slightly as if afraid that she would brake any moment.

"Do not worry. You will be safe here with us." The armorer furry reassured her, drawing her attention back to the current moment. Suddenly her earlier suspicion came back to hit her in the face as her eyes once more widened.

"What do you mean?"

"We will take you in and you will be safe and won't have to fear them with us."

She was sure that was meant to sound reassuring but it wasn't. It made her stomach sink. With a moments use of intangibility she pushed away from the man floating backwards and putting more distance between her and these people. Danny gave her the code, told her to use it in a dire situation. That she would get help with that code. That they would help! This didn't sound like the help she wanted. She hadn't even gotten to explain the situation from her side. All they did was apparently assuming something all because of that stupid code Danny, her mom, gave her.

"What about mom?!" She didn't scream but by the faces she might as well could have. "The code was to get help! Mom needs to be rescued! Why are you acting like you won't! Danny promised I would get help when I use it!"

"Danielle." She halted and froze. That tone was stern and it was missing the gravel she had previously heard in that man's voice, it sounded the same way Danny or Auntie Jazz sounded when they needed for her to listen.

"Wait B! I don't think-"

"The code Danny gave you. It's his last resort code, personalised to you. It is one of our many codes we both came up with for our children. One only for situations we did not believe to come back from alive."

"W-what?"

"Aquila, Apus, Phoenix, Cygnus, Columba, Grus, Pavo and Corvus. Each of them has one specific Code personalised for the exact same situation you are in. I am sure Danny has mentioned them to you at least once." Ellie blinked finding a familiarity with these words but also frowned with the realisation that set in with that. Her eyes unintentionally wandered over to the onlookers, no birds, these codes belonged to. She couldn't really tell which belonged to who but she knew Danny must have come up with them as some sort of inside joke.

"B! You can't just-"

"But Mom..." Her voice sounded small even to her own ears.

"I am sorry. But you will be save with us. I promised Danny that years ago."

She knew that her de-aged body was probably influencing her emotional state as she slowly floated back into reach. Before she could sit back onto the rail like she had done the entire time before she felt herself getting dragged to the side and suddenly warm arms encircled her. Ellie blinked confused until her brain caught up. The bird in blue was hugging her. The warmth felt comforting, just like when Danny, Jazz, Val or Sam hugged her and for a moment she let herself enjoy it. Dropping her guard just for a little bit to draw comfort from this warmth.

While Nightwing distracted the little girl in his arms, he made distinctive eye contact over her head with his siblings, before indicating his head towards Batman. Red Robin and Signal nodded before moving towards the man, Robin trailing behind them after he shared one more glance with him. His eyes turned towards Red Hood. The other wasn't even looking at any of them as he was already on his way stomping right out the cave, ignoring everyone around him. Nightwing was going to make sure to send any additional information they would get from Danielle his way later too. Black Bat and Spoiler stayed close to him.

It was moments like these that Nightwing really appreciated the silent understanding he and his siblings had among each other and if Batman was to much into his own head with these stupid codes and apparently already grieving. Then they would step up and if they could give the little girl in his arms the kind of help she had clearly hoped to get from them. It wasn't a promise of safety that the Danielle was looking for or even needed, rather she was hoping for people willing to help her rescue Phantom, her parental figure, her mother, her family, when she had no one else left.

[jjkamochoso]

Imagine… Feitan Stealing a Bouquet of Flowers for You

Fluff

Feitan Portor x gn!reader

Warnings: small mention of violence

It was a warm sunny day and you and Feitan were walking side by side through the busy city streets. It looked like a market was being held, booths and their vendors lining the pavement, and you fought the urge to stop and take a long look around because you knew you’d be left behind if you did. The mission you had just finished a few hours ago left you both exhausted and ready to hide out for a while and recuperate. Feitan was adamant about not making any unnecessary stops on the way back to base but you couldn’t help yourself as you slowed down your pace, your eyes landing on an especially appealing cart to your right. It was like your legs had a mind of their own as you left Feitan’s side and changed course to satisfy your desire of seeing the beauty that caught your attention up close. You stood in front of a vendor who was selling the most gorgeous bouquets of flowers. They were absolutely ginormous and each one contained a different type of flower a person could ever ask for. As you ogled the vendor’s creations, you felt a menacing presence behind you and you knew your partner had found you but you were completely unbothered. You didn’t even notice Feitan’s eye roll or huff of annoyance, too enthralled in the sickly sweet smell enveloping you.

“You finished?” Feitan asked from behind his cowl.

“Not yet. One more minute, please,” you replied dreamily. Another sigh left his mouth as he crossed his arms and watched you with his deadly gaze. He had never seen you this happy before and he wasn’t sure why he liked it so much. It was totally unlike him to relish in the joy of others and it almost made him sick when he realized that he didn’t want to see the smile leave your face. When you turned away from the booth and began your trek back to your original destination, both of you felt tugs at your heartstrings for different, but still related, reasons.

“What wrong now?” he asked, taking notice of your dejected aura.

“Hmm? Nothing,” you replied. The man in all black stopped walking and grabbed your arm with an iron grip.

“Don’t lie to me. You never this quiet.”

“It’s silly, just forget about it.”

“No.”

Feitan was never this unyielding when you brushed him off, usually opting to not press further when you said you were fine, so this was a bit of a shock to you.

“I just… wanted a bouquet, that’s all. I’ve been all over this country and I’ve seen countless people presented with them and I… it’s something that I’ve always wanted. It’s trivial, really, forget I said anything.”

You waited with bated breath, expecting a harsh cackle in your face and some name calling about how juvenile you were being, but none of that came. Instead, you watched in awe as Feitan ran over to the vendor and came back in a blur. His speed never failed to surprise you, but what surprised you more was the bouquet of flowers that he thrust into your unsuspecting hands.

“Here,” he said, “for you. Now stop frowning.”

You didn’t know what to do or say. This was something you’d never expect from the Phantom Troupe’s most macabre member and the gesture made your stomach do flips.

“Feitan!” you cried out, the short man now many steps ahead of you now due to your stupor holding you back, “I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

“They’re just plants,” he replied, but you saw the way his eyes softened when you came into view with the flowers he stole.

“You tell anyone about this and I cut out your tongue,” he tutted, shoving his hands in his pockets and ripping his stare from you as you just chuckled a bit.

“Deal,” you said, opting to go with the story that you stole them yourself, if anyone asked. Feitan knew they wouldn’t speak a word, though, as the whole Troupe (minus you) were privy to his growing affections toward you.

Two weeks later the flowers in the bouquet eventually died and you decided to preserve one of the flowers in a notebook (also stolen and left on your bed by Feitan). Finished with your work, you closed the book shut and leaned back in your chair. You gasped in surprise when pale fingers reached around you and took another wilted flower from its vase.

“I like dead things,” Feitan shrugged as you gave him a look. You wouldn’t know this until much later but he saved that flower in a notebook too (along with some hair that he had plucked from your head).

[fuzzybirdie]

Hero Of Changing Faces

Ch.4 Congrats! It's an Ice Ice Baby

Danny and Signal arrived at the enterance without issue. The Purple Hood person there pointed them to his parents the moment he said loud. Dissapointing but not supprising.

"Dann-o!" His farher called waving enthusiastically "I see you've met the local ghosts! Have they mentioned anything of their unfinished buisness? And what happened to your hair?"

You couldn't see signal's eyes through his cowl, but his expression was firmly in a confused 'excUSE ME?' Expression.

"Wait what?" Danny pulled a lock of hair infront of his eyes and watched it fade back to black. "That's new. Anyway, Dad," Danny sighed, running a hand down his face "this is Signal. He's a meta. Metas are Humans-" punctuated by wild gesturing to himself and the rest of the crowd "-that have extra abilities. Signal can manipulate light, and I can create ice."

The fentons all froze at that. "Create ice?" His mother breathed.

"Yep!" Danny cheered, making an ice bird in his hand. "I was on the ride the not-announcer-"

"Joker?"

"Didn't seem too funny to me. Anyways, the not-announcer attacked the ride, and I managed to freeze the wheeles, and now I know that I have ice powers!"

His parents had a giddy expression on that read that he was in for a game of 21 questions when he got home, and jazz had buried her hands in her face.

"Please tell me you haven't been calling the joker -the guy that attacked you- not-announcer-guy..." Jazz pleaded.

Danny made a thoughtfull expression. "You see, I could, but then I'd be lying. Besides," he shrugged "he got a better name than Visorless Biker and Firetruck over there,"

The purple one, who was debriefing with Signal suddenly let out a Loud cackle. "I absoloutely need to call them that now!" Practically sprinting at them.

Signal shook his head and went to follow her, wether to continue the debrief or prevent a murder (Biker had a very 'fuck off' aura) who knows.

Before he could leave, Danny's dad called him. "Mr. Signal! You are human correct?" At Signal's confused confirmation, "are the other Bats human as well? We're mostly here for GHOST! Research!"

Signal bit his lips, obviously realising that Danny's parents were just like that(tm).

"Yes," he spoke slowly, "we're all human, just highly trained, and Very Private. If you want to do more reaserch, you'll have better luck in Central City. The speedsters love to talk about the mechanisims of meta abilities like theirs."

Danny's Dad slumped in defeat, while his Mum clapped her hands "Well then. Danny, we're very proud of you for your newfound abilities, and I want to hear all about them when we get home, but we should get going home.

"There aren't any ghosts here that live long term on this side of the veil. We might have more luck elsewhere."

~~~~~~~

masterpost

first / prev / tbp

Ao3 (maybe?)

So! The Gotham arc is finished! Hope everyone's enjoying so far, and that brains don't get too broken in the next part,

Edit: as a side note, I haven't actually read any Dc comics, and the only cartoon I've watched of theirs is young justice. (And Liegion of superheros, but that's set centuries in the future) so if i get anyone wildly ooc, please tell me. My only reference is fannon, after all.

[monstrous-fusion]

Rue / LOZ + AOL / he/fae / 19 years old

It's hard to get a read on this young man. He keeps to himself and never voices his own opinions, never gives you a foothold. In spite of his lack of presence, he carries a different presence; a near inhuman aura of magic seems to cling to his skin. He's crafty and unpredictable.

Some fun information under the cut <3

Rue is midverbal, and mainly signs rather than speaks. In faer youth, he didn't really talk much and that definitely carries over into adulthood.

Rue is extremely resourceful and a natural survivalist. He's a very good liar and very good at detecting scams; gotta get good at rooting out suspicious people when your monsters can disguise themselves as Hylians.

Rue wears a cowl and a sash as a quick disguise to use when he goes in villages. Fae would throw the hood over faer head and draw the cowl over their mouth. Messages simply don't travel in his Hyrule, so not many knew what the hero looked like.

[mamawasatesttube]

of heavenly bodies

9.5k | 1/10 | M | core four adventures in space!!

Stranded on an alien planet where the locals really, really adore Superman, Kon, Tim, Bart, and Cassie work to discover what, exactly, everyone here isn't telling them.

“What’s the prognosis, doc?”

Kon rests his arms atop the back of the pilot’s chair, leaning forward to peer at the yoke in Tim’s hands. The ship is flying steady for now, but the several red, flashing alerts on the screens make it pretty clear that’s not gonna hold forever, not with the damage they sustained getting the hell outta Dodge.

Kon rests his chin atop Tim’s head. His hair is still damp from his shower earlier, but at least he doesn’t smell like burning Kevlar anymore. Rest in pieces to his cowl, though. “Think we’re gonna make it?”

Tim grunts. “Mn. We’re steady for now, but we don’t have more than maybe… two hours, before that last fuel pump gives out in engine three.”

Well, damn. Those Denebian space pirates just had to hit the engines, huh?

He can feel the struggling fuel pump, shuddering on the fringes of his TTK aura. Unfortunately, there’s not a lot he can do for it, even with his telekinesis; sure, he could pump the fuel through to the converter himself, but without the rotating component from the back of the pumps that completes the circuits, power won’t go through the engine, and the thrusters won’t actually ignite. So he can’t just try to pump the fuel himself to give the overworked last pump a break, and the other two that are supposed to help it are already toast.

“Well, worse comes to worst, I can always get out and push,” Kon offers, only half-joking.

Tim quirks a tiny half-smile at the front window. “I don’t think it’ll come to that, but good to know it’s an option.”

{ read on ao3! }

[bruciemilf]

Bruce is the kind of dad who radiates an aura of safety and calm to children. And even more the more experience he gets in parenting.

Watch him nap, in his arms three babies who couldn't calm down at a party because of the noise and empathetic crying. Because their parents are new at it so they're trying, they're just still insecure which the babies sense. And Bruce gives the parents a chance to calm down, gather their nerves, while he watches over the kids.

Bruce with babies is something that can be so personal; He gives off " Took care of his stuffed animals like they were his kids" vibes; If you wanted to be the mom when you played house with him, TOUGH LUCK.

He always wanted to play the mom. He has a creepy as FUCK doll in the attic; " Creep was my first child. What am I supposed to do? Kick him out?"

" Creep? THAT'S the name you picked?"

Bruce merely quirks an eyebrow, his go to quirk when his skin and blood children get sassy, "Your mother would've approved."

And you know what's an angsty but sweet thought? That prior to officially putting on the cowl and becoming Gotham's darkest hope, Bruce probably bitterly accepted he'll never have children. In his line of work? No way.

And then he got 7.

[mangoisms]

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter two: it’s getting late | read chapter one

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.5k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

━ a/n: would be lying if i said this was for tim's birthday tmrw. it was rlly just because the reception to chapter 1 was so lovely and i also did this with my other tim fic—posting chapter 2 early, i mean. but we'll just have to work with this. happy early birthday tim you are annoying and i want to study you under a microscope <3

You expect Red Robin’s appearance to be a one-off thing. 

It is not. 

Instead, the next day, you get Black Bat. 

It jolts you from the phone call you’re having.

“—understand the temptation to tell them to screw off but I really don’t want to get… shot…”

You trail off, watching, wide-eyed as your newest vigilante customer steps into Circle K. 

Black Bat cuts an imposing figure, her suit made up mostly of inky black material, with a few accents of gold, the Bat symbol on her chest standing out the most. Her black cape flutters behind her, moving like a shadow. She looks the most like Batman, you think, with the cowl and the pointed ears. Except the eyes of the mask are black and the bottom of her face is completely covered—stitched closed. Considerably more creepy, you think, goosebumps breaking out over your skin. Though that could be the fan you have on, fluttering your hair as it makes a slow rotation.

“Hey, did you die or something?”

“No,” you mutter, watching, your heart starting to pick up as Black Bat comes up to the counter.

You aren’t sure what you expect, but it’s not—

“Do you have Red Bull?” Her voice is low and melodic. Not befitting of her… general aura.

Wordlessly, you point to the refrigerators at the back.

“Thanks,” she says, then she turns and walks away. You can only see the top of her head and the pointed ears of her cowl. A second later, you hear the suction-y sound of the refrigerator door being opened. 

A voice calls your name from the other end of the line. 

Your best friend, Stephanie Brown, who gave you a call to see how your summer break has been treating you. 

“Sorry,” you say, clearing your throat. “Just got distracted by something outside.”

“Something outside? That’s not reassuring. At all.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Like I was saying, I’m not gonna tell them that. It’s tempting but like I said, I don’t want to get arrested or some shit.”

“The charges wouldn’t even hold. It’s a free country. I can tell a cop to fuck off if I want to. That’s my god-given right.” 

“I appreciate the spirit, but I don’t think the GCPD would agree with you.”

“Well, the GCPD can kiss my ass.”

“You and me both, Stephie. You and me both. So, how’s, uh, Metropolis?”

“Metropolis is Metropolis. Brainiac nearly took control of the city yesterday but what’s new? Mom’s having a good time, though. Even if things are way overpriced over here. I mean, seriously. Eight bucks for a cup of coffee at this place we went to today. They’re crazy.”

Steph babbles in your ear for a few more minutes. Long enough for Black Bat to reemerge from the aisle, two cans of Red Bull and a bag of Takis and a pack of sour gummy worms in hand. You wonder who the second person is. Red Robin, maybe? 

He’d been odd about the hot chocolates. Odd in general. But that’s what you get with these vigilante types. 

No matter. You quickly focus on your current situation, giving Black Bat a small, embarrassed smile and pointing at the phone crammed between your shoulder and ear, mouthing Sorry. 

You shouldn’t be doing this on the job and you should’ve told Steph you had to go but quite frankly, you need the assurance of another person with you. Even if said person can’t do anything and is across the harbor in Metropolis on a mini-vacation with her mom. 

 Black Bat shouldn’t give you trouble about it. You hope. She just scares you a little more than Red Robin. Which is silly because he’s a guy and probably more potentially dangerous but. You know. Her suit is just… too similar to Batman’s, and he’s the one who scares you the most.   

Still, Black Bat just shrugs and waves a hand. “It’s fine.”

You nod your thanks, then scan everything and bag it. She pulls out a twenty dollar bill from her utility belt and you give her the change, which she promptly puts in the tip jar. A kind gesture, really, considering the twenty is a bit of an overshoot for her total, leaving you with a nice tip. 

You guess that if anything else, at least it’s nice that these vigilantes tip. 

After dropping the receipt into the bag, she takes it and waves at you. 

Mystified, you wave back. 

Then she steps out, cape fluttering behind her.

“Anyway,” Steph says on the other end as you focus on her voice again. “It’s pretty fun but I miss home. Can’t wait to be back in the city. We’re hanging out as soon as I do, by the way. How are things with you?”

Oh, you can’t keep it in. You have to tell her. 

“I saw the Flash two days ago.”

But she misunderstands.

“Oh, yeah,” she says. “I saw that in the news. ‘Cause of Trickster, right? Bet Batman wasn’t happy about that.”

“No,” you say. “I’m saying I saw him. Here. At Circle K. He dropped in to grab a bite to eat. I know you and Tim absolutely refuse to believe me when I say he visited me and that we’re friends—which, by the way, he totally reaffirmed when I saw him—but he was here.”

“We’re jealous, that’s all,” she says. “Just don’t want you running off with the Flash thinking he’s cooler than we are. Which, to be clear, he isn’t. Not me, anyway. Tim is up for debate.”

“Well, you’re about to be a little more jealous.”

“And why is that?”

“Because since he visited, weird shit has started happening.”

“Weird shit is always happening in Gotham. What is so special about this weird shit in particular?”

“Oh, he said something stupid to Red Robin—Red Robin came in a little while after he did, I guess they were working together to track down Trickster—anyway, he was talking about how I’m… scared of the Bats—”

“Are you scared of the Bats?”

You throw up a hand, though she can’t see it. “I have a healthy amount of fear and respect for them—and on that note, please don’t tell anyone else I’m telling you this.”

“Of course.”

“Right, well, Flash was just ragging him, you know? About how he has a better relationship with me, someone who doesn’t even live in Keystone or Central, than the Bats do.”

“So?”

“So,” you blow out a big breath, “Red Robin showed up yesterday to get some hot chocolate—”

“Hot chocolate?” Steph asks, disbelieving. 

“Yeah. He said it was a better alternative to coffee. Guess he’s not into energy drinks. Weirdo. The whole thing about it—weird. Like… I don’t know. He was just acting weird when he was asking if we had any.”

“… That is weird,” she says, an odd note to her voice. She clears her throat. “And then?”

“I knew why he was doing it so I told him he didn’t have to come around ‘cause he and the others obviously need to uphold a specific perception, right? Then he was all, Well, what does a civilian like you know about it? Can you believe they unironically call us that?”

Steph laughs. She laughs hard.

You wait it out, not entirely sure what or why she is laughing so hard but it’s not the first time she’s ever done that, so you can just let it go. 

“Okay,” she giggles. “Sorry. Keep going. What else happened?”

“He left. But then, y’wanna guess who just showed up right now?”

“Who? Batman?”

“God, no. It was Black Bat. She was nice enough. Gave me a big tip. Creepy suit, though.”

“What’d she’d get?”

“Two Red Bulls, a bag of Takis and a pack of sour gummy worms. Wonder who that second Red Bull is for. And the snacks. Red Robin realizing hot chocolate in June is weird? Hard to imagine him eating Takis, though. He’s probably like Tim, saying they’re ‘too hot’.”

Steph laughs again for a while.

“Oh, god, you’re killing me,” she gasps out when she calms.

You shake your head, rubbing your finger over a scratch mark in the counter. “I don’t know what is so funny but sure.”

“So, then, what? You think you’re just gonna some more vigilantes? ‘Cause it’s only been two so far.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you grumble. “But it’s two. When previously, this has never happened.” 

“True! Well… any preferences? For who comes next?”

“Anyone but Batman, thanks.”

Your next visitor is not Batman.

It is, in a turn of events that makes a little more sense, the Signal.

A few days after your call with Steph, things are fine, until your manager posts to the team group chat about wanting someone for an afternoon shift, saying someone quit unexpectedly. Not one to say no to some extra cash, you latch onto the opportunity—even if it’s an admittedly questionable idea. You try not to work weekends to let yourself recuperate from sustaining your not-so-great sleep schedule. 

Anyway, you feel and look like a zombie, but you get your work done. 

“I can help the next person in line,” you call. 

A tall, broad-shouldered stocky older man with long blonde hair and blue eyes behind coke-bottle glasses steps up, armed with two large cups of coffee. The scrubs he wears clues you into some kind of healthcare position. 

“Hi, did you find everything—”

The door opens, your eyes automatically flickering to the movement, and your voice cuts out sharply as you realize who it is.

The Signal stands there a bit awkwardly for a moment as all of you look—the blonde man at the counter and the other man waiting in line.

“Hey, you!”

You flinch, tensing, already fearing a confrontation as the other man steps forward, pointing at the Signal. The one in question tenses, shoulders rising, like he’s preparing to fight. You hope not. That would be a lot of paperwork for you. It’s the manager’s, technically, to report any damage done by vigilantes, but they always give it to you or the other employees on the floor.

But it is not as you feared. Instead of picking a fight, the man… thanks him?

“You’re the Signal, right? Right? You saved my son a few months ago from some muggers following him home from school. Thank you, man. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough. He wouldn’t be here with me if it weren’t for you,” the man says, holding out a hand.

“Hey, man,” Signal says, reaching out to shake his hand. “It was nothing. I’m glad I was there to help.”

“Are you here to buy something? Let me cover you. Please. It’s the least I can do—”

“Oh, you really don’t need to—”

“That went better than expected.”

The soft-spoken voice brings you out of your thoughts and you belatedly realize you still have a customer to take care of. But when you look at him, he is watching the Signal try to tell the other man that he doesn’t have to pay for him, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah,” you say. “Good thing. Signal’s a good guy.”

He turns back to you as you scan the cups of coffee, pulling out a wallet.

“He is,” he agrees easily—meaning his words, too, a genuine conviction you don’t hear often associated with the vigilantes of the city. 

Signal manages to hold firm on not needing the man to pay, repeating that he was just doing his job, and thankfully, the man accepts it with good graces. 

You quickly get your current customer wrapped up while the Signal steps into the chip aisle. 

You pass him the receipt. “Thank you, have a good day.”

He sends you a small, handsome smile, picking up the cups of coffee. “Thank you, you, too.”

The one after him steps up to pay, talking jovially with you, spirits still apparently lifted at seeing Signal and being able to thank him. It’s a nice moment, you think, and you make sure to respond in kind. 

The door swings shut behind him just as Signal re-emerges from the chip aisle, holding a can of Monster Energy and a bag of chile picante Cornnuts. The combination is… surely something. You let yourself slip with it, too, because you’ve personally heard a lot of good things about him. The fact that he works during the day helps his case, too. 

“I need the energy,” Signal says, seeing that thought in your face; he doesn’t sound mad, though, just vaguely amused. His suit is filled with more yellow tones, still intimidating but not as much in the daylight, a helmet of sorts leaving only his mouth exposed. 

“It’ll definitely give you… something,” you say, chuckling as you scan both.

He pats his stomach. “I have guts of steel. Don’t worry about it.”

“Not a problem as long as I never have to hear ‘guts of steel’ ever again. Jesus. Is that just a natural thing of your biology or is it evolutionary-based?”

“This life isn’t for the faint of heart or stomach,” he agrees, passing you a five dollar bill. “Adaptation is key.”

“I bet.”

Signal laughs, taking his change and dropping it into the tip jar. You smile, too, shaking your head slightly. 

“Have a good day.”

He tips his Red Bull at you. “You, too.”

Guts of steel. You nearly can’t believe it.

You pick up your phone, finding your conversation with Tim. You and Steph are hanging out tomorrow, so you’ll tell her about it, then. She asked him, though, and he said he was busy. Too bad. But that doesn’t mean he gets out of being subjected to those words, either.

no joke signal came in to buy a monster energy and cornnuts (a questionable combo) and when he saw me judging he said he has guts of steel

meta related do you think???

makes sense to me. you have a gene inside you that gives you literal powers i think they shouldn’t be having digestive issues/ibs like us common folk do

Your three texts, sent in quick succession, deliver. You bite the inside of your cheek as you see your previous ones still unanswered. It’s been like that for the past few weeks. Not him ignoring you but a bit of a dry spell going on in your messages that was only broken when you told Steph what happened and decided you had to tell him, too.

It’s not his fault. The dry spell from before or the lack of responses going on now. 

You started the first thing. So, it’s more your fault than anything for all of that. Steph’s talked to him, though, and she’s never let up on anything amiss…

You groan quietly, dropping your phone on the counter and burying your face in your hands.

Too complicated. Too much. 

It never used to be like that but… things changed recently. 

You, mostly. 

You met Stephanie Brown your second semester at Gotham University. 

Taking your required elective, you chose Intro to Psych. She was doing the same. Though, being a social work major, psychology was practically a cousin to it. 

The professor for the class turned out to be a total dud. Rambled during lecture, refused to give out study guides, and while he would give out hints as to what material might show up on exams, his questions were trick ones. When people complained, he said some crap about being in a higher ed setting and needing to do better because of it. Like his class was some 300 or 400 level course and not a literal intro course to a large and burgeoning field of study. 

But classes are expensive, so, you couldn’t drop it. Refused to, really, knowing you would face much more difficult classes later on, ones you knew you might need to drop and try again. So, you weren’t going to waste the money on this type of class.

Steph was of the same thought.

She sat next to you in the lecture hall. You two didn’t talk until after the first exam and everyone was upset about their grades, the exams having been handed back at the end of class. Your shared frustration brought you together, mostly as you two were ranting about it, you packed up and wound up leaving class together, the both of you just too caught up in your anger to realize you both needed to go in opposite directions for your next class. 

You initially agreed to be study partners, to cover more ground that way. But Steph managed to worm her way to your heart by the end of that semester. 

Your astounding lack of friends helped, too. Even if things had been that way since your junior year of high school, even if you wanted things to remain that way to protect what little remained of your heart, the loneliness hit you harder than you thought it would when you started college. 

And Steph was nice and funny and listened to you and paid attention to you and you… were so very deprived of those things, so it was nice in the beginning, but then you realized, to your own horror, that you actually wanted her to stick her around, that just as she knew nearly everything about you by the end of the semester, you knew nearly everything about her, too, and you wanted to know more, wanted to be there for her like she always was for you. 

You have that and more now and you are so very lucky because of it.

Tim, though?

Tim was something else.

Steph told you she had a friend visiting.

Just that—that she had a friend visiting campus and she ‘hoped he could find his way to the computer workstation on the fourth floor because as soon as I sit down, I’m not leaving for anything other than to use the bathroom or some kind of world-ending event.’ 

It was a particularly grueling paper she had to churn out—twenty pages, heavily research-based with the kind of statistics that made your head spin.

Working at the front desk of the Martha Kane Library at the time, you humored her. Told her good luck and that you’d keep an eye out. The second part was a joke, of course, because she never said who was visiting her and how could you know if she never said anything?

You and Tim Drake wound up finding each other, anyway. 

Well, more like he found you. 

It sounds sort of romantic, right?

It’s… well, it’s certainly something.

“I’m just saying,” you’re telling him, totally neglecting your homework and the other duties you have at the front desk (you know this last part is especially true by the way your coworker, also at the front desk, is side-eyeing you but come on, there’s no one in line, so it’s fine!). “It’s a solid movie.”

Tim Drake gives you a comically disbelieving look. “A solid movie? It’s—it’s gaseous.”

“Did… you just make a physics joke? About the three states of matter?”

Tim turns an attractive shade of pink. “It’s four, actually, and, uh… yeah.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Steph is right. You really are a geek. Anyway. Cloverfield still sucks.” 

“Your opinion is automatically negated by the fact that you think the Final Destination movies have any kind of substance to them.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that. I just think they’re good ‘cause of Mary Elizabeth Winstead. You probably think the Transformers movies are actually good, don’t you?”

He looks offended. “Don’t insult me. We hate Michael Bay in this house.”

“Sure.”

“But I do think Bumblebee—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Bumblebee is good for a change, we all know it. You’re probably one of those Nolan stans, aren’t you?”

“I don’t think any of what you just said are real words.”

“Oh, they’re real alright. Nolan stans are constantly on his dick, they’re all like, ‘Nolan is so deep and thoughtful and there is no one else like him.’ Wrong. I could find ten of him in the movie industry.” 

Tim narrows his eyes accusingly at you. “Steph said Interstellar is your favorite movie.”

“It’s his only good movie.”

“Don’t count out Inception like that.”

“Never seen it.”

“Wow.”

“You know what you sounded like just now? A Nolan stan.”

Tim actually grins at you and your stomach flutters at the sight of it. It’s that that had drawn your eyes to him. The cute but confused looking guy loitering around nearby, systematically checking his phone and glancing around—presumably for a map of the confusing and ancient library. With dark hair, pale skin, and pretty blue eyes that make you feel unbearably seen, Tim Drake is a sight for sore eyes. Your eyes, to be certain. 

Of course, you also know he’s here for Steph. That he is the friend she spoke of. And also the ex-boyfriend. That reminder sobers you considerably. 

Kind of funny, really. 

Much can be said about Tim Drake. 

The adoptive son of Bruce Wayne. The kid who snuck into No Man’s Land on a dare and had to be extracted by the US military after his father made a fuss about it. Then later, became controlling shareholder at Wayne Enterprises for whatever reason, boosting him into a very powerful position. Then he got engaged. Then he was shot—he was meant to be killed but obviously, it hadn’t gone that way. All this at seventeen. 

But eventually it petered out. He stepped down. Engagement broke off. He recovered. Now? He does some work for WE. That’s all that’s known to the press, anyway. 

It’s like you said. Much can be said about Tim Drake. 

But most of your impression is from Steph. He plays Warlocks and Warriors sometimes. Is a bit of a computer geek and has built his own PC for gaming. Hits the skatepark every now and then. Likes to spend time tinkering on his car.  And… has strong opinions on movies. 

Above it all?

He is her ex. A good friend now! But still. That fact remains. 

“Anyway,” you say, adjusting your notebook, textbook, and bag of pens just to do something. “You’re here for Steph, right?”

“She told you?”

“Well, she’s obviously told you stuff about me.”

“Steph won’t shut up about you,” he says, seeming more amused than annoyed by that fact. “I can’t imagine it’s the same with me.”

“I know enough.” Like the fact that he is her literal ex-boyfriend. Even if Steph says their relationship wasn’t the greatest, had some very questionable decisions on both their parts, and ended a bit dramatically… he’s still the first person she ever fell in love with. She told you that much. “She’s upstairs on the fourth floor. Hit the elevators over there, then when you get to the fourth floor, turn left, then another left, and the computer workstations are on your right. Can’t miss them.”

“You should watch Inception,” he says, instead of acknowledging literally anything you just said.

You arch an eyebrow challengingly. “You should watch Interstellar.”

He taps a finger on the counter. “We should do both. You, me, and Steph one of these days.”

“I hate to say it, but that sounds like a good idea.”

Steph’s voice scares the shit out of you. You bang your knee on the desk, cursing.

Tim looks unruffled as she comes from the side—the direction of the elevators, joining him at the counter and nudging his shoulder as she goes. He nudges back. They keep the contact.

“Sorry, Stephie,” you say. “We got preoccupied.”

“Arguing,” she corrects, but she doesn’t look upset about it. Instead, her cobalt blue eyes twinkle with something you can’t quite identify as she drops her chin into her palm.

“We weren’t arguing,” Tim says next. “We were lightly debating.”

“Of course. My cute little movie geeks. I think Duckboy’s right, though—” Tim groans slightly and mutters her name in annoyance; she ignores it “—we should get together and see them.”

You scratch your cheek. “I don’t know. Finals—”

“—are not for another month. I say let’s do it.” She looks at Tim and jabs a thumb at you. “She needs more friends.”

“Stephanie, please.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Timothy needs more friends, too. Friends from, say, the other half.” She smiles mischievously, a joke known only by the two of them. 

Tim, for his part, rolls his eyes but says nothing in protest. 

You don’t need more friends. More friends is actually a very bad idea. Letting one person get close was bad enough. Another person? Hell, no…

But the look on Steph’s face tells you that you, quite frankly, have no say in the matter. And the way you and Tim ‘lightly debated’ movies for a solid half hour tells you, too, that it’ll be too easy for you and he to become friends. 

You decide to shelve the issue for now as Steph tugs him away, promising you that she’ll arrange for things.

Maybe it won’t pan out. Maybe he’s actually horribly arrogant and conceited. (Though, if he’s friends with Steph, the likelihood of that is admittedly low.) 

You don’t know. All you know is it’s dangerous to let yourself get close to someone else.

But that’s all rather dramatic, isn’t it?

And it didn’t turn out how you wanted—you met Tim in the first semester of your sophomore year; your junior year just ended this May. You’ve been friends with him for a year and half. Steph for two. No end appears to be in sight. But you’ve compartmentalized. It’s just two people. That’s fine.

It’s totally fine. 

Even if it’s two people to match the two others you lost when you were fifteen. Like a repayment for the pain.

(Or a way to double it.)

But you lost your parents in the earthquake. 

Scientists called that a once-in-a-lifetime event.

There are plenty of things going on in this city that could cost your friends their lives but… it’ll never be as devastating as the earthquake. 

The earthquake where you nearly died after a piece of metal pierced your thigh, barely missing your femoral artery, and you spent the entire time from after the earthquake, when they dug your body out of the rubble, and to when they decided to exile the city, in a coma from the infection. 

By the time you stabilized, you were on a helicopter to Blüdhaven, the rest of the city in a panic to leave, and your parents were officially gone by that point. 

They couldn’t even find their bodies in time.

It took almost three years before they did. The year in which the government turned a blind eye to the city and cast it away, then another two years to rebuild, to sift through the ruin and destruction, to find the bones of the ones left behind since they were decomposed by then, and identifying them was an even more arduous task.  

You only managed to receive the catharsis of burying them when you turned eighteen. 

You might tempt fate by saying this but even if you lost either of them, the fallout would never beat that. A blessing, in that way. 

But even you hate to consider the possibilities of them leaving you. For anything.

They won’t. 

Everything will be fine. 

It has to be. 

reblogs are appreciated!

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[killxz]

Healing Hands Chapter One: Prologue

Pairing: Jason Todd x Powered!Fem!Reader

trigger warning(s): mentions of torture, gore, blood, scars, insecurities

a/n: urmm yeah! sorry this took so long to get out, it was sitting in my drafts for quite some time, i had a hard time trying to figure out a plot...anyhoo, enjoy! if you did, you're welcome to leave a like or comment!

[9 years ago]

You don't know what was even happening anymore. Your vision was blurry, a glaring light above you shone into your eyes. The surface below you was cold and hard. Your hands twitched and you realized that there was clamps on both of your arms and legs. You felt movement around you, and a surgical glove-covered hand appeared from the corner of your eye. It was holding a...scalpel? The smooth surface of the metal reflected into your eyes.

"The subject is ready for testing." A muffled voice broke through. Subject? Testing? What? Your mind was muddled, not capable of a single coherent thought. "Beginning the test now." The same voice from before spoke.

Then all you felt was pain. You cried out and trashed about on the table. You felt your skin, your flesh, being torn from multiple places around your body. It felt like your body was set on fire. Then miraculously, the pain started fading. You can feel your skin mending itself back, the torn edges melding together to form whole skin again.

As the excruciating pain gradually subsided, you found yourself in a state of shock and confusion. Your breathing was labored, and the cold sweat on your brow mingled with the sweat-soaked sheets beneath you. The surgical-gloved hand withdrew, and you could hear the hushed whispers of the medical team as they conferred amongst themselves. Your thoughts were still scattered, struggling to piece together the events that had just unfolded.

A sense of dread washed over you as the words "subject" and "testing" reverberated in your mind. What had they done to you? Why were you here? Questions swirled, but you couldn't form the words to ask them. The room around you began to come into focus, revealing a sterile, clinical environment. Cold metal surfaces, humming machinery, and the unmistakable scent of antiseptic assaulted your senses. You could see other figures in lab coats moving about, their faces obscured by masks.

"Subject's vitals are stabilizing," one of the medical personnel noted, their voice distant and detached.

You couldn't comprehend the gravity of the situation. It felt like a nightmare, a surreal experience that couldn't possibly be real. Yet, the lingering ache in your body and the vivid memory of the pain you had just endured were all too real. What had they done to you?

"Let's run it again," came the same, cold, detached voice. Your heart rate sped up, as your breaths became quicker. "No no no, please," You squeaked out. "Not anymore, please!" It was useless, pain struck your small body once again, leaving you crying out and writhing on the table. And once again, you felt yourself healing the wounds.

In that moment, everything seemed to still.

Then there was an explosion. The walls of whatever room you were in burst open. Chunks of cement and dust crumbled everywhere. There was indistinct shouting and screaming from the doctors. Your ears was ringing from the blast. Smoke started to fill the room. You could make out the faint sound of flesh hitting flesh and the grunts and screams of pain around you. Then there was silence.

Footsteps made it way towards your side. You squint your eyes to look at the imposing figure. He was wearing a black cowl, with pointy ear-like things at the top, and a big bat symbol on the front of his chest.

"Please, help me," You whimpered. You didn't know who the man was, but he had a kind, tough aura around him. "I-it hurts," Without another word, the cuffs on your arms and legs were broke open.

"What's your name?" came the gravelly voice of the man who scooped you up in his arms like it was nothing. You stuttered out your name as he began walking out of the room. "Where are your parents?" He asked.

"They're d-dead," You answered. "The people in that room...they killed my parents." As a kid, you don't cry easily, almost nothing could made you cry. Maybe that's why the man was looking at you almost curiously as you seemed to have pulled yourself together quicker than any 10 year-old should. "Who are you?" You asked the strange man.

He simply answered. "I'm Batman."

[A few months ago]

"Hurry! He's bleeding out!" Dick's worried voice cut through your concentration.

"Goddamnit, Dick! What does it look like I'm trying to do?" You snap. Your hands were pressed against the gaping wound on Tim's torso. Blood seeped between your fingers, dripping onto the medical table before pooling at a puddle on the floor. The deep wound at the side of his waist appeared as a jagged tear in the flesh. It was a dark, angry gash, oozing blood and exposing the underlying tissue. The edges of the wound were irregular and torn. The surrounding skin was inflamed and discolored, a testament to the body's immediate response to the injury. Tim was breathing heavily, his face contorted in pain as you pressed a hand to his wound to try to stop the bleeding and heal him. "Cut me some slack, okay? I never really healed someone else before!" With a gentle touch, you concentrated your focus onto the wound, trying to heal it.

With each passing moment, the torn edges of the wound drew together, as if guided by an invisible hand. The bleeding slowed and then stopped entirely, as your energy flowed into the injured area. It was as if the body itself responded to the soothing touch of your ability.

The damaged tissue began to mend itself, knitting together with remarkable speed. Soon, the area where there used to be a gaping wound was smooth once more.

Your knees buckled and you dropped to the floor, Dick caught you just before hitting the ground. "You okay?" He asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," You pant. "That clearly took a lot out of me. How does Tim look?"

"I feel much better," Tim chimes in. "Thank you," You nod, releasing a sigh. "Was it that Red Hood guy again?" You asked. Jason Todd, the second Robin, who was apparently killed around 3 years ago supposedly came back to life and currently has a vendetta against Batman and his little group of vigilantes. You were just there to patch them up. Leslie Thompkins, one of Bruce's confidants had been your mentor in teaching you how to grow and develop your meta-abilities. You weren't adopted by Bruce, so you kept your last name and Leslie was technically your guardian.

"Yeah, it's him again." Dick nods. You groan. "Well, can you and Bruce fix this personal vendetta Jason has with your family? Cause one day, there will be an injury I can't heal."

Dick sighs and runs a tired hand through his hair. "We're working on it."

"Well, work faster."

[Present Day]

It was late at night. You were in your apartment, working on a medical report for one of Dick's latest injuries, to your annoyance. Usually, you would only fall asleep after Alfred calls you to confirm that the others were back safe and that they needed no healing after they were back from their patrol.

Your eyes slid to the time shown on your computer screen. 03:13. You groaned, sliding down in your seat. Thank god, you weren't an actual member of their family. You could only imagine the hell you would experience if you were an actual member of their weird little family.

A resounding crash from the fire escape at your window made you jump in your seat. You scrambled out of your chair and ran to the window, flinging it open. The glistening red helmet and brown leather jacket greeted your sight. Jason was crumpled onto the floor of your fire escape, breathing heavily.

"Oh god, not this again." You sighed, hooking an arm under Jason's shoulders and hauling him up. About a month ago, Bruce had finally solved the never-ending feud between him and Jason, somehow convincing him not to kill anymore and join back the family. While it was a good thing, it was also a bad thing for you. Jason was reckless, to say the least. He was the one who gets injured most of the time and you always had to patch him up.

You grunt under the sheer weight of his gear and muscles as you try to support him into your apartment. "Sheesh, c'mon, Red! Help me out here, would 'ya?"

Jason mumbled something before he stood up on shaky legs, helping you bring him inside. Once you shut the window, Jason collapsed on the floor, sliding against your wall to sit on the floor. "Where is it?" You ask him, clicking your tongue.

Jason moved his jacket aside to show you the knife wound. "It broke through the kelvar?" You asked him, your nimble fingers moving the jacket and material away to get a better look at the wound.

"Yeah," Jason breathed, is voice hoarse. You grumbled under your breath as you shifted into a more comfortable position. You placed a hand on his wound and sucked in a deep breath. When you exhaled, you released your healing energy at the same time. Slowly, the wound healed over itself, the skin knitting together to form smooth skin once again. "There," You say, sitting back. "All better?"

Jason hums, opening his eyes to look at you. "Yeah, thanks."

"No problem," You hum. "When you can stand, you can use the bathroom to freshen up, the couch is open, as usual." You and Jason's relationship has been...weird to say the least. Despite him being an ex crime lord, you and Jason had quickly forged a friendship. He would sometimes crash at your apartment, seeing that he was too exhausted to grapple back to his own after patrol. He was 19, like you, but his body was already littered with scars, and his hair had that patch of white that would shine in the light every time.

You had a few scars of your own too, back from your time with your captives 9 years ago. Back then, your ability to heal was new, undeveloped. So when you healed yourself, it left some scars as it wasn't strong enough to complete heal them. The scars were mainly on both of your forearms, your legs having a few too. That was why you always wore long sleeves. You aren't insecure, you just not prefer going out with your scars on display for everyone to see.

"You gonna crash here tonight?" You asked Jason. Jason was in the process of stripping his gear and jacket off and he paused to look at you. He contemplated for a moment before replying. "Yeah, sure." You gave him a nod and went back to the report on Dick.

You could hear cluttering in the bathroom and the shower turning on. You pressed a button on your comm in your ear and spoke.

"Hey, um, Oracle?" You could never get used to the secret identity thing on radio. "Red is...crashing with me tonight."

"Again?" You could hear Barbara's surprise in her voice. "He's been staying over at your place a lot recently..."

"Psh, it's not like that," You roll your eyes. "He's just...not as close as he use to be with you guys. So naturally he comes to me when he needs patching up, I guess."

"Ooo, I think Little Wing has a little crush," Dick's teasing voice crackled in the comm.

"What?! Ew! It's not like that!" You scrambled. You put your face in your hands. "Gosh, you're all so annoying." You mumbled, ignoring the laughs that exploded from your communicator. "Well, good night, I'm turning in." You turned off the communicator and removed it from your ear. The bathroom door creaked open and Jason stepped out, drying his damp hair with a towel. "Thanks," He mumbled. You nodded and went to your bedroom.

"I'm going to bed, if you're hungry, there's food in the fridge you told Jason. "Thank you," Jason mumbled again, puttering up towards you to sweep you in a hug. You stiffened, surprise overtaking your features. Jason released you and trotted towards the living room where the couch was. You stood there, shell-shocked as you raised a trembling hand to touch your flaming cheeks.

What the hell just happened?

[randofics]

Found these pics and had to write this. It's just something about that collar looks so good on him, yk?

🎶 Lolo Zouai- Desert rose

🎶Zandros- Obsessed ft. Limi

🎶 Azee - Escape

18+ Under the cut!

To say you were surprised was an understatement. Somehow, someone got a bomb collar on the bat. He had deactivated it, but so far, he didn't have much luck removing it.

At first, you had to laugh, doubling over at his extra grumpy expression. "How did they even manage that!?" He grumbled, crossing his arms. "Knocked me out just long enough."

"Ok, so you're sure you deactivated it?"

"Yes."

"You just can't reach the back to unlock it?"

"Yes."

"I don't know how to pick locks, so how am I supposed to help?"

"I'll guide you."

"But wouldn't it be easier and quicker to just cut it off?"

"I'm not certain where the explosives are or what they're comprised of, so cutting it is off the table."

"Ok, fine, just sit down so I can reach." He follows your order and sits in the office chair in front of your cluttered desk.

Without realizing it, you stare at him for a moment. He's got that man-spread going on with one hand on his thigh, the other resting on the chair arm with his lock picks in hand. That silver shining collar stands out against the dark blue of his cowl. For some reason, it looks so good on him, and you can't place why.

He's relaxed but still with his ever-present brooding aura as he quirks a brow at you. "What is it?"

A blush tints your cheeks as you shake your head. "N-nothing, let's get this thing off!" His face betrays nothing as inside he thinks just how cute you are. He's a detective, so of course, he noticed what you were looking at and how you were looking at him. He also noticed when you glanced at the collar how your expression ever so slightly changed.

You move closer, taking the picks from him as he explains what goes where. You can't help but watch his adams apple bob as he speaks. It hits the top edge of the collar in a way that looks uncomfortable, possibly even painful.

As he's mid sentence, you reach out, letting your fingertip press between the side of his throat and the inner lip of the collar to gauge how tight it is. Gently, you tug on it and ever so slightly wiggle it up and down. It barely moves, letting you know it's pretty darn tight. "It isn't constricting you, is it?"

"No."

"Ugh, I hate things around my neck like that. I don't know how you're standing that thing."

"I've been trained to not let things like this get to me. Keeping a clear head during deadly situations is paramount in one's survival."

"Right. Let's hurry this up then." You move behind him and do as he tells you, maneuvering the tools just right till you feel the lock turn and with a click the collar swings open. He grabs it, pulling it away from his neck and giving it a quick once over before sitting it on the surface of your desk along with the pick still inside the lock.

You watch as he massages his throat and the muscles of his neck under the reinforced Kevlar lined cowl. "Thanks"

"No problem. Is there anything else you need?"

Standing, he moves closer, backing you into the desk, his arms boxing you in. Confusion and a bright blush cross your face. "Wh- what are you doing?"

"You know you aren't as subtle as you think."

"What?"

"The looks you give me and the expressions you make give you away completely."

"What are you suggesting?" His face inches closer, and he gives you the first grin you've ever seen on him. Swave and attractive it makes heat pool in your chest and abdomen as your face and ears grow a tad redder.

"Oh, I think you know exactly what I'm suggesting." A squeak escapes your throat when his gloved fingers come up to tilt your chin. "You alright with this?"

"Ye-yes."

"Good." He presses forward lips connecting with yours in a gentle kiss. Your eyes flutter closed as your arms snake around his neck, and you feel his hand on your lower back. Fingers slip beneath your shirt, caressing your spine as he pulls you to him. One of your hands moves to grip his hair, but his cowl is in the way. Instead, you hold onto one of the pointy "ears."

He breaks away for air, looking into your half lidded eyes before attacking your neck. Subconsciously, you lift a thigh to hook around his waist. Pressing your heel into the back of his thigh, you pull him closer. His groin meets your pelvic bone, giving you the barest hint of pleasure.

A noise escapes your throat when his tongue glides up your jugular. Excited and aroused shivers run down your spine. His hands finally start to roam over you, feeling for those sensitive spots. His thumb dips into the waistband of your pants and underwear ghosting over the side of your abdomen just inches above the crook of your hip.

The muscles of your stomach jump at the pleasurable yet ticklish sensation as you feel his other hand on your lifted thigh moving to the back of your knee.

-------

He's growing more aroused by the second. Ever since he first noticed your attraction towards him, he'd been slowly allowing himself to interact with you more. He didn't deserve you. You were so sweet and funny, and he wanted you to be safe. His life was incredibly dangerous, and if anyone found out about you, they'd use you to get to him. Even as Bruce Wayne, there would be that danger of someone using you for ransom.

You made him happy even though he didn't show it much. But the more he thought about you with someone else, the more jealous and saddened he felt. He didn't want to lose you either way. So he made up his mind.

If you wanted to stay with him, then he'd protect you no matter what.

-------

He pulls away, leaving you confused. "Do you want to keep going?" Eyes dilated and half lidded you grin up at him. "Yes, please."

You move over to the bed, pulling your top off along with your pants. He takes off his utility belt, setting it next to the collar on the desk and undoing the cape from his suit draping it over the chair. He gets onto the bed on his knees and pats his thighs, beckoning you over.

"Sit with your back against me, legs on either side of mine." He helps hold you up as you get into the backward straddling position. His knees on the inside of yours keep your legs spread as one of his hands comes behind you to undo your bra, slipping it down your arms.

With his arm around you like a seatbelt, he uses his teeth to pull off his glove/gauntlet quickly, followed by the other. Both are tossed to the bed in front of you. His bare hands land on your stomach, one moving to your chest while the other slips under the waistband of your underwear.

He gently kneads your breast, placing pecks along your neck and shoulder. His fingers pressing into your button, making your hips jolt against him.

-------

You can't believe this is actually happening. You had first met him when he came to you for answers. That whole interaction was scary, but when you explained yourself, he actually listened. He somewhat relaxed and had you show him what you had found. You watched him out the corner of your eye as he stood over you in your desk chair. Then, once he got all the information he needed, he left.

He was back a few weeks later asking for your assistance, and this time, you actually had the presence of mind to really look at him.

-------

It had been a couple of months of his occasional visits to get to where you were now, straddling his lap backward on your bed with his hands all over you.

His fingers split you open as his middle circled your opening. The slight rough texture of his hands added to the sensations you were feeling.

You let out a gasp when his finger pushed inside you, slowly pumping in and out. The pleasure left you breathless as you arched your back, head laid back on his shoulder. Moans and whimpers flowed from your lips as he worked you up.

Another finger pushes into you scissoring you open as his thumb rubs circles over your button. Your hands claw at him, trying to ground yourself. Slick begins to soak his hand and the fabric of your underwear as you feel yourself getting close.

He can feel your walls pulsing as he presses his fingers into a certain spot inside you. Your legs attempt to snap shut, but his knees keep you spread for him. Louder moans flood from your mouth as you finally snap, body tensing. The white hot pleasure strikes through you like lightning. He groans in your ear when he feels the warm liquid dripping onto his hand.

When your body relaxes against his, he pulls his hand free, spreading his fingers apart in front of you, watching as the viscous clear fluid strings between them. He brings his hand to his mouth over your shoulder. You watch as he licks his hand clean, clearly enjoying your slight salty taste.

Once he's done, he dries his hand on your bedsheets. "You still wanna keep going?" You nod kissing along his jaw. "You have to say it, baby."

"Yes, I want to keep going." He places more kisses along your neck. "You like these panties?"

"I can always get more."

"Good."

His fingers slip under the leg hem of your underwear, ripping them off in one swift motion. You let out an excited sound as he growls in your ear. He pulls down his suit's pants and slips on a condom as you sit up from his lap a moment.

When you sit back down, you feel his tip between your folds. He uses your slick to lubricate himself, gently moving his hips against your rear. You sigh in pleasure, hands coming up to grab the ear of his cowl and caress his jaw. Turning your head, your lips connect again in another languid kiss.

"Gonna slip in now, ok?"

"Yeah." A loud pleasured whine escapes your lips as his tip pierces you. You feel his chest rumble against your back as he growls again. He pushes in slow, ever the gentleman till he finally hilts inside you. Brushing your hair aside, he kisses the nape of your neck, making you shiver.

"If I could just stay inside you like this forever, I would do it in a hearbeat."

"I would too."

"You wanted to pull my hair, right?" His question catches you off guard.

"How'd you know?"

"You were scratching and gripping my cowl."

"Sorry, I didn't realize I was doing that."

"Don't worry about it, baby. I've got an idea. How about I cover your eyes and I pull off my cowl for you?"

"Really? You'd trust me not to peak through your fingers?"

He nods, pecking your cheek. "I think you'll be too focused on the pleasure than what I look like. And I can keep kissing your neck just in case."

"Ok."

He covers your eyes with a hand as the other pulls back his cowl. He ruffles his hair from its flattened position and takes one of your hands kissing your palm, then moving it to his cheek. He leans into your touch as you feel up to his temple, then to his hair. Gently, you scratch his scalp, making him hum in appreciation.

You feel his hips pull back, dragging him along your walls. The both of you let out moans at the feeling. Slowly, he picks up the pace plunging in and out of you as your walls pulse around him.

-------

The sound of your apartment door unlocking and creaking open catches his ear. It seems your roommate's back a tad earlier than she said. He coveres your mouth with his other hand and stops his movements. You make a questioning sound under his palm, and he whispers in your ear.

"Your roommate's back. Do you still wanna do this?" You give him a firm nod.

"Keep quiet then." He growls out the words in playful warning. You'd love to find out what his punishment would be, but you'd rather do that when you have some extra time alone with him.

He starts up his rhythm again as you keep your mouth closed. Smaller moans and whines reverberate in your throat and through your nose as you tug on his hair.

You feel his teeth nip at your skin as you grind your hips against his with every thrust. His groans and growls are muffled in your neck as he pushes your hips into his with his free hand.

Your coil tightens as his thrusts grow firm. His quick breaths are hot on your skin. It feels like his tip is perfectly kissing your cervix with each thrust in. He lifts his head, panting heavy in your ear, mouth open.

"I'm close." Your pitiful quiet voice drags him that much further to his edge. "Ok, just hold on a bit longer for me, baby."

His pace quickens just a bit as he grows closer to his own release. He can feel it creeping up on him, so he has to time it just right.

"I'll cound us down, ok?" You nod.

"In 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... Now!"

Your body tenses as your core sucks him in massaging along his length. His teeth bite into the crook of your neck as he lets out feral sounds. His hips press hard into yours as he uses both hands to hold you against him. Hot white ropes fill the condom as your eyes roll back in ecstasy. Your body twitches with slight overstimulation as you both catch your breath.

He pulls his cowl back on before embracing you in a hug, kissing over his bite mark. You both sit there for a minute, soaking in the afterglow.

"I need to get back out there." His voice has sadness in it. He would much rather stay till morning, but he has a job to do.

"Yeah, I know, darling."

He pulls out with a hiss and moves to sit on the edge of your bed. Tying up the condom he slips it into one of his evidence bags, stowing it in an empty pocket of his belt. He'll dispose of it properly later.

You come up behind him, wrapping your arms over his shoulders and leaning against him. Nuzzling into his neck, you hum in an affectionate tone. His head leans against yours as he slips his gloves/gauntlets back on. He kisses both your palms before standing. His belt snaps closed around his waist, followed by his cape. Then he removes the pick from the lock on the collar, slipping it back in its place among his other gadgets.

"Hey C'mere."

He comes closer, leaning down to your level. You pull him in for another kiss, both hands on either side of his face. One of his hands cups your cheek, the other holding the still open collar. When he pulls away, you grip his hand.

"I love you. Be careful out there."

Your words catch him off guard this time. Now he knows it's real. Now he has to protect you no matter what.

"I love you too. I will be." With another quick peck on the lips, you break away from each other. You watch as he slips out your window, closing it behind himself and making his way up to the roof.

You fall back onto your bed. Letting your body rest a moment longer. The need to pee growing stronger by the second.

Once you've rested enough, you put on your previously discarded bra and a new pair of underwear. Quietly, you sneak out of your room and down the hall to use the bathroom.

-------

Back in the cave, Bruce dismantled the collar, removing the charge and explosives before putting it back together. He takes it over to a display case with a faceless bust sitting inside. Alfred opens the glass, and Bruce closes the collar around the busts neck, closing the case and locking it up.

"Sir, any special reason for keeping this one?"

"To mark a special day for me, Alfred."

"Ah, well, to more special days in the future, then."

"To more special days." The whiskey glasses clink together before they take a sip.

-------

The next morning, you grogily walk into the kitchen, grabbing the milk and cereal to pour yourself a bowl. Your roommate walks in behind you, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge.

"You had a guy over last night?"

Whipping around, you meet her eyes. "How'd you know?"

"That bite mark for one. Also, I could faintly hear you two from the living room. He must have left before I woke up."

"Yeah, he had to go to work."

"Ok, well, I'm just about to leave too. I'll see you for dinner. Are we still on for pasta night?"

"Oh yeah, of course! I need to run by the store later to get a couple of things."

"Ok, be careful! See you later!"

You watch as she runs out the door, shaking your head with a smile."

[ladyeckland28]

Batman: Shadows Of Madness (Part 2 of the shadows saga)

A fan fiction by Ecky

**Disclaimer:**

"Shadows of Madness" is a non-commercial fan fiction story created by and for fans of the Batman franchise. This work is not affiliated with, endorsed, or approved by DC Comics, Warner Bros. Entertainment, or any other official entities associated with Batman and related characters. All characters such as Batman, Joker, Penguin, Riddler, and others from the Batman universe are the property of their respective trademark and copyright holders.

The original characters of Ms. Racey Rhymes, The Chimera, Revan (Samantha Faith), Hannah, and Sarah are creations of the author and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or other fictional characters, is purely coincidental.

This story is intended solely for entertainment purposes and is not for commercial use. No infringement of copyright or trademark is intended.

The Characters:

Batman as himself

The Joker as himself

@raceyrhymes as Ms Rhyme's

@solesofwonder as Hannah and Sarah

@samcrosfaith as Samantha Faith aka Revan

And introducing @smallzster as Chimera

The cold, sterile room buzzed with an undercurrent of malevolent energy. Batman, the Dark Knight of Gotham, found himself strapped to a chair, his utility belt gone, surrounded by an array of ominous machinery. Before him stood Ms. Racey Rhymes, her eyes gleaming with a manic intensity that sent chills down his spine.

"Welcome to the grand stage, my caped muse," Ms. Rhymes purred, her voice a discordant melody. "Are you ready for your starring role?"

Batman's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing behind his cowl. "Whatever you're planning, Rhymes, it won't work. Gotham has faced worse than you."

A giggle escaped Ms. Rhymes' painted lips. "Oh, my dear Dark Knight, you misunderstand. I'm not here to face Gotham. I'm here to remake it. And you, my brooding bat, will be my masterpiece."

She snapped her fingers, and a figure emerged from the shadows. Tall and lithe, with features that seemed to shift between masculine and feminine, the newcomer exuded an aura of calculated menace.

"Allow me to introduce my collaborator," Ms. Rhymes said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "The Chimera. A true artist of the mind."

The Chimera stepped forward, their face hidden behind a mask that seemed to morph and change with each passing moment. When they spoke, their voice was a disorienting blend of tones and pitches.

"Hello, Batman. I've been looking forward to our session."

Batman's mind raced, trying to place this new threat. "You're one of Crane's students," he growled. "I remember the files. You disappeared years ago."

The Chimera tilted their head, the gesture unnervingly birdlike. "Very good, Detective. But Dr. Crane was merely the beginning of my journey. Now, I'm something... more."

Ms. Rhymes clapped her hands together in delight. "Enough chitchat! Let the performance begin!"

The Chimera moved to a control panel, their fingers dancing across the keys. Suddenly, a fine mist began to fill the room, and Batman felt his senses beginning to blur.

"What... what is this?" he gasped, fighting against the rising tide of disorientation.

"Consider it a cocktail of my own design," The Chimera replied, their voice seeming to come from everywhere at once. "Fear toxin, mixed with a dash of hallucinogens and a sprinkle of my own special additions. We're going to peel back those layers of sanity, Batman. One by one."

As the mist thickened, Batman's vision began to swim. The room around him warped and twisted, melting away into a nightmarish landscape. The last thing he heard before succumbing to the hallucinations was Ms. Rhymes' singsong voice:

"In shadows deep and madness vast,

Gotham's hero breathes his last.

A mind once strong, now torn apart,

Welcome, Batman, to your new start."

* * *

Across town, in an abandoned warehouse that served as their temporary base, Hannah, Sarah, and their unlikely ally Revan – now revealed as Samantha Faith – pored over maps and documents.

"We've checked every known hideout," Hannah said, frustration evident in her voice. "Where could Rhymes be keeping him?"

Sarah placed a comforting hand on her partner's shoulder. "We'll find him, Han. We have to."

Samantha, her mask off but still cutting an imposing figure, studied the map intently. "Rhymes is theatrical. She'll want a stage for her 'performance.' Somewhere significant."

"Like what?" Sarah asked, her brow furrowed.

"Wait," Hannah said, her eyes widening. "What about Arkham, not the new one? The old asylum's been abandoned for years. It's perfect – isolated, symbolic..."

Samantha nodded slowly. "And with a history of madness. It fits Rhymes' MO."

As they began to plan their assault on Arkham, Sarah couldn't help but voice the question that had been nagging at her. "Samantha... why are you helping us? You were working for Rhymes."

Samantha's eyes hardened. "I was hired to do a job. To test Batman, to challenge him. Not... this. There's no honor in breaking a warrior's mind."

Hannah studied the woman before her. "And the whole Revan persona? The baseball bat?"

A small smile tugged at Samantha's lips. "Every warrior needs their weapon. And sometimes, the best disguise is one that plays into people's expectations."

As the trio finalized their plans, the air was thick with tension. They all knew that time was running out for Batman – and for Gotham.

* * *

In the depths of his toxin-induced nightmare, Batman found himself in a twisted version of Gotham. The sky above was a sickly green, and the buildings seemed to breathe and pulse with malevolent life.

"Well, well, well," a familiar voice cackled. "Look who's come to play!"

Batman spun around to find himself face to face with the Joker, his grin wider and more manic than ever.

"You're not real," Batman growled, his fists clenching. "This is all in my head."

The Joker's laughter echoed off the writhing buildings. "Oh, Batsy! Don't you know? The stuff in our heads is the realest thing there is! Now come on, let's have some fun!"

Suddenly, Batman was surrounded by a horde of grinning, laughing maniacs, all wearing the Joker's face. As he fought them off, each punch seemed to make two more appear.

"You can't win this one, Batman," the Joker taunted. "Why not join us? Think of the laughs we could have together!"

Batman gritted his teeth, fighting against the rising tide of chaos. "Never," he snarled. "I'll never become like you."

But even as he said it, a small voice in the back of his mind whispered, "Are you so sure?"

* * *

Back in the real world, The Chimera monitored Batman's vital signs with clinical detachment. "Fascinating," they murmured. "His mental resilience is truly remarkable."

Ms. Rhymes peered at the screens, her eyes glittering with malicious glee. "But he's cracking, isn't he? I can almost hear the fissures forming in that rigid psyche of his."

The Chimera nodded slowly. "Yes, but we must be cautious. Push too hard, too fast, and his mind might shatter completely. We want to remake him, not destroy him utterly."

Ms. Rhymes waved a dismissive hand. "Details, details. Just keep pushing, my dear Chimera. I want to see what lurks in the deepest, darkest corners of the Bat's mind."

As they spoke, neither noticed the small drone hovering outside the window, its camera capturing every moment of their sinister collaboration.

* * *

Hannah, Sarah, and Samantha crouched in the shadows outside the old Arkham Asylum, their eyes fixed on the crumbling structure before them.

"I'm picking up heat signatures on the top floor," Hannah whispered, consulting a handheld device. "Looks like that's where they're keeping him."

Sarah nodded, her grip tightening on her escrima sticks. "So what's the plan? We can't just burst in there. Who knows what they've done to Batman's mind by now."

Samantha's eyes narrowed behind her mask. "We need a distraction. Something to draw their attention while we extract Batman."

Hannah's lips curled into a grim smile. "I think I have just the thing. But you're not going to like it."

As she outlined her plan, Sarah and Samantha exchanged worried glances. It was risky, borderline insane. But then again, in a city like Gotham, sometimes insanity was the only sane response.

* * *

Deep in the labyrinth of his own mind, Batman stumbled through a nightmare version of Crime Alley. The walls seemed to weep blood, and every shadow held a pair of gleaming, malevolent eyes.

"Why do you keep fighting, Bruce?" a voice whispered on the wind. Batman turned to see his parents standing before him, their forms flickering like old film.

"Mom? Dad?" he croaked, his voice breaking.

Thomas Wayne's face twisted into a sneer. "You've failed us, son. Failed Gotham. Look around you – the city is as dark and corrupt as ever."

"No," Batman protested, shaking his head. "I've made a difference. I've saved lives."

Martha Wayne's laugh was cold and cruel. "Saved lives? Oh, Bruce. How many have died because of your crusade? How many have suffered because you refuse to do what's necessary?"

As his parents' accusations rained down upon him, Batman felt something inside him begin to crack. A small part of his mind screamed that this wasn't real, that it was all a toxin-induced nightmare. But the doubt, the guilt, the fear – it all felt so terribly, painfully real.

* * *

In the control room, The Chimera's eyes widened as they studied the readouts. "Remarkable," they breathed. "He's accessing trauma so deeply buried, I doubt even he was fully aware of it."

Ms. Rhymes leaned in close, her breath hot on The Chimera's neck. "And what do we do with all this delicious trauma, my dear?"

The Chimera's fingers danced across the controls. "We amplify it. We twist it. And then, when he's at his most vulnerable, we offer him a way out. A new identity, free from all that pain and guilt."

Ms. Rhymes' grin was positively feral. "A new Clown Prince of Crime. Oh, I do love poetry in motion."

Suddenly, alarms began to blare throughout the asylum. The Chimera's head snapped up, their eyes narrowing. "We have intruders."

Ms. Rhymes' face darkened. "Deal with them. I don't care how. Just make sure our performance isn't interrupted."

As The Chimera hurried from the room, Ms. Rhymes turned back to the monitors, her eyes fixed on Batman's twisting form. "It's just you and me now, my dark muse. Let's see what other horrors we can conjure up, shall we?"

* * *

Outside Arkham, chaos reigned. Hannah's "distraction" had taken the form of a series of explosions around the perimeter of the asylum, each one timed to draw attention away from their true goal.

As Rhymes' goons scrambled to respond to the perceived attack, Samantha, Sarah, and Hannah slipped inside through a service entrance.

"Remember," Samantha whispered as they made their way through the asylum's twisted corridors, "we don't know what state Batman will be in when we find him. Be prepared for anything."

Sarah nodded grimly. "Let's just hope we're not too late."

As they ascended to the upper floors, the sounds of conflict echoed through the building. Hannah's lips curved into a small smile. "Sounds like our diversion is working."

Suddenly, a figure stepped out of the shadows before them. The Chimera, their mask seeming to ripple in the dim light.

"Well," The Chimera said, their voice a disorienting blend of tones, "it seems we have some uninvited guests. How... intriguing."

Samantha stepped forward, her baseball bat held at the ready. "Stand aside. We're here for Batman."

The Chimera tilted their head, the gesture unnervingly birdlike. "I'm afraid I can't allow that. You see, we're in the middle of a very delicate procedure. Any interruption could be... catastrophic."

Without warning, The Chimera lashed out, a spray of some unknown substance erupting from their sleeve. Samantha managed to dodge, but Hannah and Sarah weren't as lucky. As the mist enveloped them, their eyes widened in horror.

"Run!" Samantha shouted, charging at The Chimera. "I'll hold them off! Find Batman!"

As Samantha engaged The Chimera in a fierce battle, Hannah and Sarah stumbled away, their minds already beginning to cloud with hallucinations.

"We have to... have to keep going," Hannah gasped, her vision swimming. "Batman... we need to..."

Sarah gripped her partner's hand tightly. "Together," she said firmly. "Whatever happens, we face it together."

As they staggered down the corridor, the walls seemed to breathe and pulse around them, The Chimera's toxin taking full effect. But still, they pressed on, driven by a determination that ran deeper than any fear.

* * *

In the depths of his fractured psyche, Batman found himself standing atop Wayne Tower, the city spread out before him like a diseased corpse. The sky above was a roiling mass of green and purple, punctuated by flashes of sickly lightning.

"It's quite a view, isn't it?" a voice said from behind him. Batman turned to see the Joker standing there, but this time, the clown's face was a perfect mirror of his own.

"What... what is this?" Batman growled, his voice hoarse.

The Joker-Batman grinned, the expression grotesque on the familiar features. "This is liberation, Brucie! This is what happens when you finally let go of all that guilt, all that responsibility. When you embrace the joke that is existence!"

Batman shook his head, trying to clear the fog from his mind. "No. This isn't real. I would never..."

"Oh, but you would," the Joker-Batman cackled. "You will! Think about it – how many times have you been one bad day away from becoming just like the monsters you fight? How thin is that line you walk?"

As the Joker-Batman's words washed over him, Batman felt something deep inside beginning to give way. The weight of his mission, the endless parade of tragedy and horror he'd witnessed – it all came crashing down at once.

And for the first time in as long as he could remember, Batman began to laugh.

* * *

In the control room, Ms. Rhymes watched the monitors with growing excitement. "Yes!" she crowed. "Yes, that's it! Laugh, my dark knight! Embrace the madness!"

She was so engrossed in the spectacle before her that she didn't notice the door opening behind her. Hannah and Sarah, their minds still reeling from The Chimera's toxin, stumbled into the room.

"Stop... stop this," Hannah gasped, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ms. Rhymes spun around, her eyes widening in surprise before narrowing in anger. "You! How did you get past The Chimera?"

Sarah raised her escrima sticks, though her hands shook with the effort. "It doesn't matter. We're here to stop you."

A cruel smile spread across Ms. Rhymes' face. "Oh, my dears. You're far too late for that. Batman is already falling. Soon, he'll be reborn as Gotham's new agent of chaos. And there's nothing you can do to stop it."

As if to punctuate her words, Batman's laughter echoed through the room, growing louder and more unhinged with each passing moment.

Hannah and Sarah exchanged a desperate look. They were running out of time.

* * *

In the corridor outside, Samantha and The Chimera continued their fierce battle. The Chimera's fighting style was a disorienting blend of techniques, their body seeming to flow like water around Samantha's attacks.

"You're good," The Chimera said, their voice a mix of admiration and malice. "But you're fighting for the wrong side. Can't you see the beauty in what we're creating?"

Samantha's eyes narrowed behind her mask. "There's no beauty in breaking a warrior's mind. Only cowardice."

The Chimera laughed, the sound echoing off the asylum's walls. "Oh, my dear. We're not breaking his mind. We're setting it free!"

As they fought, the sounds of Batman's laughter grew louder, more manic. Samantha felt a chill run down her spine. They were running out of time.

* * *

In the twisted landscape of his mind, Batman stood on the edge of Wayne Tower, teetering between sanity and madness. The Joker-Batman stood beside him, arm draped over his shoulders like an old friend.

"Come on, Brucie," the Joker-Batman cajoled. "One little step. That's all it takes. One step, and all the pain, all the responsibility – it all goes away. Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

Batman looked out over the nightmare version of Gotham, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Part of him knew this wasn't real, that it was all a toxin-induced hallucination. But another part, a part that had been buried deep for so long, whispered that maybe, just maybe, this was the answer he'd been looking for all along.

*****

Batman stood on the precipice, both literally and figuratively. The Joker-Batman's words echoed in his mind, a siren song of chaos and release. For a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, he teetered on the edge.

Then, with a laugh that started low and grew into a manic cackle, Batman stepped off the ledge.

As he fell through the nightmare cityscape, his laughter echoed off the twisted buildings. The world around him began to blur and shift, colors swirling together in a dizzying kaleidoscope of madness.

* * *

In the control room, Ms. Rhymes watched the monitors with growing excitement. "Yes!" she crowed. "Yes, that's it! Fall, my dark knight! Fall into the abyss of chaos!"

Hannah and Sarah, still fighting against the effects of The Chimera's toxin, struggled to make sense of what they were seeing.

"We have to... have to stop this," Hannah gasped, her vision swimming.

Sarah reached out, gripping her partner's hand tightly. "How? We can barely stand..."

Ms. Rhymes turned to them, her eyes glittering with malicious glee. "Oh, my dears. You can't stop this. You're witnessing the birth of a new era for Gotham. The fall of its greatest hero... and the rise of its most terrifying villain!"

* * *

Outside in the corridor, Samantha and The Chimera's battle had reached a fever pitch. Both combatants were showing signs of fatigue, but neither was willing to give an inch.

"You're fighting a losing battle," The Chimera panted, their mask seeming to ripple with each breath. "Even if you defeat me, you can't undo what's been done to Batman's mind."

Samantha's eyes narrowed behind her mask. "Maybe not. But I can make sure you pay for what you've done."

With a burst of speed, Samantha feinted left, then brought her baseball bat around in a vicious arc. The Chimera, caught off guard, couldn't dodge in time. The bat connected with their mask with a sickening crunch.

The Chimera stumbled back, their mask cracking and falling away in pieces. As it did, Samantha's eyes widened in shock.

"You... you're..."

But before she could finish, The Chimera lashed out with a hidden blade, forcing Samantha back. Taking advantage of her momentary surprise, they turned and fled down the corridor.

Samantha hesitated for a moment, torn between pursuit and the need to help Batman. With a growl of frustration, she turned towards the control room. Batman had to be the priority.

* * *

In the swirling vortex of his mind, Batman continued to fall. As he did, he felt his very identity begin to unravel. Memories flashed before his eyes – his parents' murder, his years of training, his countless battles to protect Gotham. But now, each memory was tinged with a manic hilarity, as if every tragedy in his life had suddenly become the punchline to some cosmic joke.

"That's it, Brucie!" the Joker-Batman's voice echoed around him. "Let it all go! Embrace the madness!"

As he fell deeper into the abyss of his own psyche, Batman felt something fundamental shifting within him. The rigid moral code that had defined him for so long began to crack and splinter.

And still, he laughed.

* * *

In the control room, the tension had reached a breaking point. Ms. Rhymes stood before the monitors, her arms spread wide as if conducting some twisted symphony. Hannah and Sarah, still reeling from The Chimera's toxin, struggled to formulate a plan.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Samantha charged in, her baseball bat at the ready.

"Step away from the controls," she growled.

Ms. Rhymes spun around, her eyes widening in surprise before narrowing in anger. "Revan... or should I say, Samantha? I must admit, I'm disappointed. I thought you understood the beauty of what we're creating here."

Samantha's grip tightened on her bat. "There's no beauty in this. Only madness and pain."

As they faced off, the room filled with the sound of Batman's laughter, growing louder and more unhinged with each passing moment.

Hannah, fighting through the haze of the toxin, stumbled towards the controls. "We have to... have to shut it down..."

But before she could reach them, Ms. Rhymes pulled out a small remote. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," she said, her voice dripping with malice. "One push of this button, and Batman's mind is wiped clean. Everything he was, everything he believed in – gone in an instant."

The room froze, the tension palpable. Samantha's eyes darted between Ms. Rhymes and the monitors showing Batman's writhing form. Sarah, supporting a still-woozy Hannah, glared at the madwoman before them.

"What do you want?" Samantha asked, her voice tight.

Ms. Rhymes' smile was all teeth. "Want? My dear, I want what I've always wanted. To show Gotham – to show the world – the true face of chaos. And what better way to do that than to turn its greatest protector into its worst nightmare?"

As she spoke, the monitors behind her flickered. Batman's laughter had reached a fever pitch, and suddenly, it cut off. The silence that followed was deafening.

All eyes turned to the screens. Batman's body had gone still, his face hidden in shadow.

"No," Sarah whispered, her eyes wide with horror.

Ms. Rhymes' grin widened. "Yes. Watch closely, my dears. You're about to witness the rebirth of a legend."

* * *

In the depths of his fractured psyche, Batman stood in a void. The swirling chaos around him had stilled, leaving him in a space of perfect, empty blackness.

"So," he said, his voice echoing in the emptiness, "this is madness."

The Joker-Batman appeared before him, but now, instead of a mirror image, it was a swirling, ever-changing figure – sometimes the Joker, sometimes Batman, sometimes a nightmarish blend of the two.

"Not madness, Brucie," it said, its voice a cacophony of laughter and growls. "Clarity. You've finally seen the joke that is existence. The futility of your crusade. The utter absurdity of it all."

Batman looked down at his hands, watching as his costume began to shift and change, colors bleeding and swirling.

"And now?" he asked, his voice utterly calm.

The figure before him grinned, the expression stretching beyond the limits of a human face. "Now, you become what you were always meant to be. Gotham's darkest knight. Its clown prince of crime. Its harbinger of beautiful, perfect chaos."

As the words washed over him, Batman felt the last vestiges of his old self falling away. In its place rose something new. Something terrifying. Something... free.

He threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing through the void and beyond, into the world of the waking.

* * *

In the control room, all eyes were fixed on the monitors as Batman's body began to stir. Slowly, he sat up, his movements fluid and unnaturally graceful.

"No," Samantha breathed, her bat slipping from nerveless fingers. "What have you done?"

Ms. Rhymes' eyes gleamed with triumph. "I've given Gotham its new god of chaos. Behold, the birth of a legend!"

On the screen, Batman turned towards the camera. As his face came into view, a collective gasp filled the room. His cowl had split and peeled back, revealing a face that was a nightmarish blend of Batman and the Joker. His skin was pale, almost white, with streaks of black that mimicked the design of his cowl. His lips were stretched in a grin that was too wide, too full of teeth to be natural.

But it was his eyes that truly chilled the blood. They burned with a manic intensity, swirling with colors that shouldn't exist in nature.

When he spoke, his voice was a blend of Batman's gravelly growl and the Joker's high-pitched cackle. "Gotham," he said, his grin widening impossibly further, "your Dark Knight has fallen. But fear not – a new protector rises. One who understands that the only way to save this city... is to embrace the madness."

He stood, his costume rippling and changing. The blacks and greys bled into purples and greens, while still maintaining the silhouette of the Bat. The result was a terrifying fusion of Batman and the Joker, a creature of nightmare made flesh.

"The joke's on you, Gotham," he continued, spreading his arms wide. "You thought you needed a hero. But what you really need... is a little chaos."

With that, he threw back his head and laughed. It was a sound that contained multitudes – the deep, restrained chuckle of Bruce Wayne, the gravelly growl of Batman, the manic cackle of the Joker, and something else. Something new and terrifying.

In the control room, Ms. Rhymes drank in the sight with undisguised glee. "Beautiful," she breathed. "Absolutely beautiful."

Samantha, Hannah, and Sarah watched in horror, the full weight of their failure crashing down upon them. They had come to save Batman, to stop Ms. Rhymes' plan. Instead, they had witnessed the fall of Gotham's greatest hero and the birth of its most terrifying villain.

As the newly reborn Batman-Joker hybrid continued to laugh, his voice echoing through the asylum and beyond, a chill ran down the spines of all who heard it. For in that laugh was a promise – a promise of chaos, of madness, of a Gotham reshaped in the image of its fallen hero.

The Dark Knight had fallen. And in his place rose something far deadlier – a creature of shadow and laughter, of justice twisted into madness. Gotham's new Clown Prince of Crime had arrived.

And the city would never be the same again.

As the screens went dark, plunging the control room into shadows broken only by the eerie glow of emergency lights, Ms. Rhymes turned to her stunned audience, her eyes gleaming with triumphant madness.

"And so," she said, her voice dripping with malicious glee, "the curtain falls on this act of our grand performance. But fear not, my dears. The show is far from over. In fact..." Her grin widened, becoming something feral and terrifying. "It's only just beginning."

The asylum echoed with the sound of mad laughter – Ms. Rhymes', the newly reborn Batman's, and perhaps, most chillingly of all, the laughter of a city teetering on the brink of total chaos.

In the growing darkness, as the weight of their failure pressed down upon them, Samantha, Hannah, and Sarah exchanged grim looks. They had lost this battle, but the war for Gotham's soul was far from over.

The question now was: in a city without its Dark Knight, who would rise to face the coming storm?

[biffhofosho]

Hot Girls _____ | Chapter Two

Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: I've had this done for days. Life is so mean not to give me the time to publish. :( Please enjoy!

Cvr | 01 | 02

It was late afternoon by the time the pair arrived at Gossamer, a boutique store in Gastown that Vi had found online. It was far hipper than any place she had ever shopped, and she would have found it too intimidating to enter if her best friend hadn’t been at her side, hands in his pockets and shrewd eyebrows up.

Everything inside was pink or black—pink walls, black racks, pink chandeliers, black couches. One wall was studded with pink neon signs with sassy sayings like “Bad Bitch” and “Flex on Your Ex” and, below them, they featured full-length mirrors and sample outfits. The racks were color-coordinated and tarted up with nothing but dresses and bodysuits, each one chicer and more daring than the last.

It was exactly the right vibe. Unfortunately, Vi brought the world’s pickiest critic.

“I know it's your personality,” grumbled Changkyun from his chair across from her dressing stall, “but would you please quit trying to floor it? Go the speed limit for once.”

Vi scowled, knuckles whitening as she gripped the hem of the current dress’s miniskirt. “What’s wrong with this one now?”

He tilted his head, his temple resting on his fist as he propped up his arm on the bolster. His tongue raced over his teeth behind his lips before he let out a slow breath. “You don’t have to show a ton of skin to be hot, Viola. I mean, okay, sure, it doesn’t hurt, but what you really have to show is confidence. I need you to start thinking about this like a fisherman.”

“Like a fisherman! What the hell does that mean? You want me in a slicker and boots?”

After twenty minutes of shooting down every damn look, Changkyun rose from his chair and approached her. Vi got the uneasy feeling that she wasn’t a fisherman at all but the bait for the sharks as he circled her, hands in his jean pockets. He sized up the gaudy royal blue chainmail fabric, the too-low cowl neck, mirrored thigh slits, and, finally, her exposed back, but his face revealed nothing as usual.

“Think about it,” he said in his low gravel. “You need the right gear for your intended catch, but you have to know what you're fishing for. This dress is a net, Viola. It's going to pull in everything, including the stuff nobody wants.”

Her best friend’s aura was always intense, but right now, his condescension took over. Viola’s bare back bristled. “What are you talking about? I saw this exact dress on a girl you took home.”

He snorted. “Yeah, okay, maybe, but the one thing she had that you lack is experience.”

“Low blow, man,” Vi pouted and stacked her arms across her chest.

“I'm not talking about sex even though you're the one who said as much the other night,” he pointed out. “I'm talking about one-night stands. She knew how to pick out the bites she'd like best and throw back the ones that would disappoint or, more importantly, be dangerous. You haven’t learned those things yet.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sounds like you’re just giving yourself a backhanded compliment.”

“Viola.”

Changkyun’s stern voice penetrated the quiet salon’s air. Her hands fell limply to her side at once.

He narrowed his eyes. “You get my meaning now?”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“Look, we can work our way up to this. Remember what I said. Baby steps. You don't think this was the dress that girl chose for the first time out, do you?”

“How should I know?”

“Exactly,” he said with a pleased smile. Suddenly, Changkyun turned and as he walked back to his chair, he said, “Don't get me wrong, you look incredibly hot in it.”

“Really?”

He smiled at her again, but this time, there was something different in it, and once again, Vi was reminded of that shark. “Absolutely, and if you weren't my best friend, I would one-million-percent approach you in the club, but I would be one of a hundred guys, and most of them won't see you in the dress. They'll see an opportunity—a checkbox. So until you learn how to spot the users, we’ll find you something that will make you feel hot and secure. Besides, a little mystery is good.”

“Hasn’t worked for me the last 25 years,” she quipped.

“No offense, Viola, but you are charmingly easy to read.”

“Well, I don’t like keeping secrets…”

Changkyun pressed his lips together. After a moment, he nodded. “I know. I know. But I’m not talking about keeping secrets. We’re just talking about one-night stands, right?”

“Right.”

“So you don’t need to know everything about each other. Maybe you won’t even know each other’s names. Does that bother you?”

“N-no.”

“You don’t like secrets, remember, and I won’t let you have them with me for this to work. You know that.”

Changkyun was right—this dress exposed far too much, but Vi had nowhere to retreat except behind her crossed arms. She chewed her bottom lip before she answered again, “Yeah, I know. I’m really fine with it. I guess it just hits different when you say it.”

“Okay,” he said. “Just know you can back out at any time if you need to.”

She huffed. “Is that what this is? Are you trying to make me back out of this?”

“As if I could.”

“Good,” she said, her arms at last dropping to her sides, her chest thrust out as proudly as her chin. “Because I’m not going to back down. I’m going to take this all the way.”

“Then I’ll stay by your side like I promised.”

Something about the way his chocolate eyes met hers made Vi’s heart shift in her chest. She glanced at her sandaled feet as she replied, “I know. Thanks, Kyun.”

Changkyun sighed and rubbed his palms along the armrests. “Okay, then let’s get you into something else. You need something that makes you feel hot while looking mysterious.”

She scoffed. “This is way more strategy than I thought. Fine. You pick something out for me.”

Her friend nearly did a double-take. “What?”

“You don't like anything that I've picked, so why don't you pick something? Just remember what I'm going for here. Not something I might have worn before but something I need to wear now.”

“Viola—”

“We’ll be here for another three hours if you don’t,” she warned.

With a sigh, he stood up and paced the racks, his calm eyes scanning a rainbow of mini dresses. After several minutes, he came back to the dressing room, a perfectly blank expression on his face.

“One dress? Really?” she said with an eyebrow popped.

“The dress,” he corrected.

“Cocky.” Vi was about to head into the room when she furrowed her brow. “Kyun, this is something my grandmother would wear.”

“You know I know Grandma Viv, and I love her, but nobody wants to see her in this dress.”

“Hey!” Changkyun stared at her and, finally, Vi relented. “Fine, maybe not, but come on, this is like a parka compared to what I picked.”

“And your point?”

She scowled. “I’m trying to get laid, remember? I’d wear something like this to a wedding.”

“First of all, you would not. I’ve been your date to a dozen weddings by now, and I’ve never seen you wear something like this. Second, this dress will one hundred percent get you laid. I guarantee it.”

Vi turned her gaze back down to the tangerine number in her hands. It was the same stretchy bodycon material as many of the things she’d tried on, but apart from a halter neck and some satiny ribbons at the back tie, it looked about as plain as something in this store could get. She looked back at her friend dubiously, but Changkyun was unrepentant as he returned to his chair and sat down for what he clearly considered the last outfit of their fashion show.

“You seem awfully sure of yourself,” she said.

“I am. Look, the color will make your skin tone shine, and the cut will flaunt your assets.”

“Which are?” she prodded with a cheeky smile.

“Your assets, Viola,” he repeated stubbornly, but his eyes slid to her curvaceous hips and thighs, and she grinned, victorious.

“Fine, I’ll take your word for it, but I still think it’s a little boring. There’s no cleavage at all, and there’s a freaking bow at the back. I’m trying to get away from cutesy, remember?”

Changkyun folded his arms in a way that smacked all too hard of an unswerving CEO. “I promise you, you will look anything but cute in it.”

“I’d better.”

“Put it on, Viola,” he ordered, and it made her mouth go dry.

She retreated behind the saloon door and reluctantly swapped her “open 24/7” dress for what she was convinced would be more “help wanted”, but after she’d shimmied the vibrant fabric over her full thighs and fuller hips and then tied the bow behind her neck, she turned toward the mirror and her jaw dropped.

Damnit. He was right.

She looked hot. She looked damn hot.

The orange did amplify the exotic warmth of her skin and, like a buttercup beneath the chin, reflected attention to her face. A little notch on the skirt she hadn’t noticed before gave a sultry window to more thigh, and though there wasn’t cleavage on display, the snug of the dress across the curves of her chest was just as provocative.

She pivoted and glanced over her shoulder to find her ass looked just as round as a tangerine itself, and her back was far more exposed than she expected, allowing the halter ribbons to sway tantalizingly against the bare flesh there.

Vi smiled at herself, once in triumph before she tested out a few other versions that ran the gamut between coy, seductive, and hungry—or perhaps they all looked the same. She’d have to practice a bit more before she was confident she was nailing the hot girl vibe.

Finally ready, she swung open the door.

“That’s the one,” her best friend said, those cat-like eyes thin and stealthy as he regarded her from his seat.

“You think?”

Before Vi could step out of the changing room, Changkyun was out of his seat and in the dressing room beside her, the door swinging shut behind him. Trapped in such a small space with her best friend made things… weird. Through the thin fabric, should could feel his body heat, and it carried with it notes of leather and vanilla. She had spent much of her life by his side, but she swore she’d never smelled his skin so clearly.

“Do you love it?” he asked.

Vi bit her lip and nodded sheepishly. “I love it.”

“Mm.”

He surprised her by grabbing her bare shoulders and whirling her around so she faced the mirror, him behind her. His sharp chin hovered near the crook of her neck as Changkyun continued, “Do me a favor.”

“Uh, okay?” she hedged.

“Close your eyes and picture the man you want to fuck.”

Her head whipped back as she readied to argue with him, and she realized too late that it all nearly ended in disaster. With his face so close, only a piece of paper could have fit in the space between their lips. Vi recoiled. He did not.

“Im Changkyun!” she scolded as she hurried to return her attention to the mirror.

“You said you’d listen to me,” he reminded matter-of-factly, and her temper evened out.

“Yeah, okay, fine.” She was all too happy to close her eyes now anyway.

“Picture him,” he said lowly. “Everything about him. Not just his looks but the kind of lover you need him to be.”

Resentfully, Vi squeezed her eyes shut. It took much longer than she expected considering she’d been fantasizing about this exact thing night after night for months, but she blamed it on Changkyun’s use of the word “lover.” Finally, though, the haze of her mind began to solidify into a silhouette. The shadow man moved closer, and though she couldn’t make out any of his features, his body began to take shape. Lean, defined, strong. There were tattoos there, though nothing specific besides the fact that there was a sheen of sweat glazing all of them from the hard work he’d been putting in to please her. His movements were confident and intentional from plenty of expertise.

A sliver of light illuminated a pair of lips. Soft. Delicious. The bow just a bit sharp to hint at how wicked they could be but the bottom fuller and smoother with the promise of the sweetest finish.

Vi licked her own lips.

“Good,” hummed Changkyun, and the ice water of reality washed away her fantasy.

“What’s the point of all this, Kyun?” she said both exasperated and desperately eager to move on.

“I want you to see how a dress like this will do more for you than those other ones from before.”

“Okay, but why?”

“When you know what you want and how to get it, you won’t settle for less. Dress for the fuck you want.”

Vi scrunched her nose. “You wouldn’t think it to look at you, but you also go from zero to eleven real quick, man.”

“You have no idea.”

Now she was scrunching her eyebrows.

“See,” Changkyun continued, directing her gaze back to herself in the mirror, “no man’s going to miss this dress even in a crowded club. Everyone knows how sweet a tangerine is, and they’re going to want a piece.”

“Man, you silver-tongued—” Vi cut herself off with a shake of her head. “Okay, yeah. Fine. I’m feeling you now.”

“Good because that dream man you just pictured? This is how you reel him in. There’s no shortage of selfish, lazy fucks out there, but you need a man who understands and appreciates a woman’s body. A dress like this will make him appreciate it. It’s a tease. He’ll have that sweet first taste, and he’ll find himself imagining what more is waiting for him. See the way it cinches your waist? It’s inviting hands to grab right here.”

His hands hovered at the first swell of her hips. Through the fabric, Vi could feel his residual heat like a steam from a mug, but Changkyun kept his distance, and after a moment, they fell back to his side.

“So, you’ve changed your mind about this dress?” he said with a smirk.

“You were right,” she admitted sulkily.

“Mm. And you were worried you’d only be cute… See, with the bow, now you’re something special to unwrap,” he said as he swung her around again, back to the mirror, his fingertips glancing across the tails of the ribbons and, inadvertently, her spine, “but if he’s too desperate to manage that, it’s a short detour to pleasure no matter where you end up.”

Vi imagined for a split second that her best friend’s fingertip had grazed the back of her thigh where the hem hugged beneath her ass, but she knew that had to be a byproduct of the image he’d painted. After all, Changkyun had always been good with words, especially for the kind of sultry music he wrote.

“So we’re done here?” he prompted.

“Yeah, teach.”

“Perfect. Now, take it off.”

It wasn't like the order he had given her to put it on. This—this was quiet… breathy…

Eager.

But when he spoke again, he added flippantly, “I want to get going.”

Vi crashed back down to earth like a payload of bricks. “Fine, then get out.”

She shoved her friend bodily through the door and let out a heavy breath the second she had the space back to herself. She hadn’t realized how heavy and close the air was until she was alone again.

Fast as she could, Vi dressed back in her shorts and oversized hoodie and returned with the orange dress on her arm.

“Okay, okay, we’re done,” she said.

“Actually, not just yet,” corrected Changkyun.

She popped a lush eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t even want to do this part. What else is there?”

He hummed. “I want you to start thinking 4D.”

“As in ‘four dicks’?”

“Jesus, Viola. I mean dimensions. Four dimensions.”

“Well, I don’t know! After all that ‘dream lover’ talk or whatever, I wasn’t sure what channel we were on.”

“Your dream fuckboy has four dicks?” Changkyun asked with a smirk.

“Oh, shut up. I’m eager, but I’m not that greedy. What the hell does four dimensions mean anyway?”

“There's a beauty store around the corner. I'll show you.”

Vi bought the dress, both associates eyeing her and her friend suspiciously, and the realization that they assumed something had happened in the changing room made her wince, but if Changkyun noticed, he didn't acknowledge it.

He took her bag and headed out the front door with her in tow. Her best friend was rarely chatty—usually he left the course of conversation up to her—but Vi had run out of things to talk about. Though it had always been the point of this mission, her mind was fixed on the fantasy Changkyun had ruthlessly conjured, and she couldn't unstick it.

She was so busy riding that sweaty, shadowy tattooed man that she ran right into her best friend's back as he stopped.

“You all right?” he asked.

“Sorry. Daydreaming.”

He studied her for a second before he shifted his attention to the sleek display featuring a rainbow of bottles in the window. “We're here.”

“Hey, this place is fancy,” Vi observed as she looked up at the black-and-white Parisian awning over a gilded double door. “How did you know about it?”

“I buy my cologne here. Here's your next lesson: if you want to be a lure, make yourself a sensory experience.”

“A sensory experience? And you call me a nerd.”

“That means it’s not just visuals, Viola. Your smell, your skin, your—” Changkyun stopped. His lips mashed together as he considered, but after a rough swallow, he continued, “—your taste… this is what will ensure you have the best time because he’ll work harder for you because he’ll want to.”

Vi quirked a brow. “Damn, Kyun. Sometimes it sucks that you're my best friend.”

“It does?”

“Hell yeah. Otherwise, I’d be all over you.”

While Vi fiddled with a few bottles, Changkyun watched her. After a minute, he blurted, “Viola—”

“Can I help you two find anything?” An elegant blonde woman sidled up behind them with a polished smile that twisted into something much more seductive when her eyes caught Changkyun’s face. “Oh, it’s you. Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon. How are you?”

He nodded and gave the other woman a polite smile. “Good, thanks. We’re all good.”

The associate’s smile faltered as she glanced to his companion before she echoed his polite nod and retreated behind the register.

Vi leaned up to her friend's ear and whispered, “Do I spy the next Mrs. One-night-only? Am I going to get to study the master in the wild up close? Ooh, I feel like Steve Irwin.”

“You know my rules,” he replied as he picked up a bottle and idly sniffed it.

Oh yeah, she thought. No familiar faces. No sleepovers. No repeats. How could she forget, especially after her disastrous go at Henry?

Changkyun had a lot of rules for his personal life and perfectly logical reasons for most of them. He wasn't shy about sharing them either. In fact, he laid them out for every woman he'd been with so there were fewer misunderstandings when their time was up. The only thing he refused to explain was why Vi had never seen him with a girlfriend—their entire lives. She had probed plenty of times, but the only thing he'd ever said on the matter was “There's no point.”

Unsatisfied, Vi said, “What if you ran into her at a club first and then saw her here?”

“If I did, you know I’d have to stop using this store.”

“Man, Kyun, I forget how strict you can be sometimes. Am I expected to do that, too?”

“These my rules, Viola. I don’t expect you to follow them the way I do, but you should consider some of your own. If you want to stay unattached, you need rules and the determination to stick to them.”

“You’re right. But I’m not letting some guy run me out of a store I like.”

Changkyun hummed. “That’s my girl.”

Vi returned her attention to the shelves and, more specifically, the price tags underneath. “Oh, man, these are expensive.”

“Real perfumes are,” he replied. “Don’t worry about it just yet, okay?”

“Guess my Vicki Secrets Honeysuckle Apricot body mist isn't cutting it anymore. What's wrong with my signature scent?”

“Nothing,” he assured. “It's perfect for making a man fall in love with you, but that's not what we're going for, is it?”

“Falling in love? Hell no.”

Changkyun smiled that special tight smile, the one that always told her he was holding something back, but it also meant that even if Vi asked, he wasn't going to tell her what it was.

Instead, she directed her attention to the array of glass bottles spaced far enough apart that it drew the eye one by one. Each bottle was an experience, though she expected that came with the price tag. Some were faceted like jewels and others were shaped elaborately like high heels or hearts or even hot air balloons. “Okay, so what is my cheap ass looking at here?”

“Think of the bottles the same way you thought of your clothing,” said Changkyun. “They give you a hint of what’s inside. Dark and seductive. Bright and lively. Deep and powerful. Let your eyes guide you the same as they will in a club.”

Vi looked up and down the rows where four bottles caught her attention. She wanted to grab the quirkier sculpture bottles, but she remembered her best friend’s lessons from the dress shop, and she decided she needed to think more sophisticated. She went for bottles of ruby and sapphire, black and gold, and she lined them up in front of her.

“Okay, now what?” she asked.

Changkyun appraised her choices, though his face didn’t reveal whether she’d done a good job or not. He reached down the line to little cotton strips propped up in a dish and grabbed several. He chose the ruby bottle first and brought the nozzle close to the strip as he said, “We'll spray them on some paper first to see if you like them.”

A quick spritz and then a brief fan of the paper in the air, and he offered it to Vi. Before it even got to her nose, she scowled.

“I don’t like it,” she said.

“Why not?”

“Ugh, it stinks?”

Changkyun shook his head. “No, what’s the note that you don’t like?”

“Kyun, I live my life in fruity body sprays. What do I know about this?”

He glowered at her. “Too flowery? Too powdery? Too masculine?”

“No. It smells like an old lady.”

Changkyun brought the paper to his nose now and breathed. His eyes rolled back as he considered before he said, “Mm, hints of iris and amber and definitely some rose. You’re right, it’s not the scent for you.”

It was Vi’s turn to glower at her friend. “You know, you really know how to flex without looking like it.”

They tried the sapphire bottle next, but this time Vi was clear on why she didn’t like it.

“Too flowery,” she blurted as she recoiled and rubbed her nose.

Changkyun smiled. “You’re a quick learner.”

Unfortunately, neither of the next two bottles were a fit either, and Vi was startling to feel a little defeated. If the goal was for her to be able to make the right picks to reel in the right guys, she was failing miserably, first at the clothing and now at the scents. All her planning showed how little she really knew about the waters into which she was trying to dip a toe.

“You’re doing fine, Viola,” Kyun said, reading her instantly. “It’s not a test. It’s a new experience. You can’t get it wrong. You can just learn from it.”

“Easy for you to say.”

Her best friend studied her furrowed brow and, when she didn’t shake herself out of her funk, he suggested, “How about this? I’ll pick three scents that I think might suit you, and you tell me what you think.”

At this, Vi perked up. Curiosity overwhelmed her as she wondered how Changkyun could possibly sum her up in a fragrance. Only he would propose such a thing.

“Yeah, okay,” she said. “Bring it on.”

He nodded and headed down the row and then another and, in a blink, came back with three bottles as though he knew exactly which ones to grab.

She squinted at him. “That didn’t take very long.”

“Just try them,” he said dismissively.

Vi stared at him a minute longer, but he wasn’t budging and her curiosity was only increasing. She crinkled her broad nose and relented.

The first bottle was shaped like a poison apple, and after a quick spritz, her eyebrows raised. “Okay… Yeah, I actually like this one. It’s got some fruity notes. You know I like those.”

“I do,” Changkyun said with a smile.

“What is that I’m smelling? It’s sweet.”

“Vanilla. That’s a favorite scent for a lot of men.”

Vi bit her lip. “Tasty. I dig that.”

“Leave the paper there for a minute while you try the next. It’ll give the scent a little time to unfold. A good perfume changes over time.”

“Damn, okay, Mr. Nose. I’ll come back. Now, what’s this one?” She picked up a much less dramatic rectangular bottle in a translucent cherry red. It wasn’t one she would have picked up herself, but on first spray, the burst of cherry and almond hit her immediately, and she hurried for a second whiff. “Oh, this one smells delicious! But it’s not like my usual fruity stuff.”

Changkyun nodded. “This one’s darker. That’s the liquor in it.”

“Ooh, yeah? I like that. The guys will want to take a bite.”

Her friend didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. Another whiff of the paper, and this one had definitely moved to the top of the list for now.

“Give it another minute,” he said and reached for a bowl of coffee beans sitting nearby. “Smell this.”

Vi popped an eyebrow. “Why?”

“It resets the nose. It’s easy to get the smells confused after a while.”

She shrugged and huffed the beans only to find it didn’t smell nearly as strong as she expected, but on second sniff, the coffee scent came through clearer.

“Ready?” Changkyun asked, and she nodded.

The last bottle he’d chosen was shaped like a diamond laying on its side. The black bow and smoky liquid inside gave Vi speakeasy vibes, and something about her drew her in from first sight. She sprayed a fresh paper strip, but she could smell it before she even brought it to her nose.

“Wow. Okay, wow.”

In a rare flash of brightness, Changkyun leaned forward and beamed from ear to ear. “You like it?”

“A lot! Definitely feels like nighttime. Maybe it’s ‘cause of the coffee beans, but I smell coffee in there somewhere. And there’s lots of fruits, too. And flower? Rose maybe? Okay, I don’t know what I’m talking about, but it’s super sexy.”

“Mm. If you want to know if it's a good match, you have to apply it to your skin though,” he said. “Fragrances wear differently on skin. It may smell good on paper, but there’s only one way to know if it will smell the same on you.”

Her friend grabbed her wrist and lifted it up, turning it over in his hand so the back of hers rested in the palm of his, his tan fingers curling around her toffee skin. Changkyun grabbed the bottle, the sultry liquid sloshing inside the glass facets, and he spritzed briefly across her pulse point.

“Give it a minute to dry down,” he instructed.

The first few seconds ticked by quickly, but somehow the next ticked by slower and slower, as though time itself had been trapped in molasses. Maybe it was because she was eager to smell her skin. Maybe it was because Changkyun was still cradling her hand and he’d never done such a thing before, and it was new.

In fact, today, things just felt a little weird between them. Most likely, it was the strain of their mentor/mentee relationship. They’d never had a dynamic like that before; not to mention, Vi had been out of school for several years now, so she hadn’t really planned for assignments and exams and, well, obvious failures of both this late in her life. It was more stress than she’d anticipated, even if her mentor was the person she trusted most.

But Changkyun remained just as unbothered as he usually looked. When he judged the time right, he raised her wrist to his nose and inhaled. Vi waited for him to comment, but he said nothing. Instead, he pushed her hand back toward her and said, “Here. What do you think?”

He guided her wrist to her nose this time, and she breathed in deeply, once, then twice. She closed her eyes and breathed in a third time.

Suddenly, she wasn’t in a store at all, but a crowded club. Strobe lights winked, skirts rolled up thighs, steam wafted off rolling bodies. It was intense, warm, and incredibly intimate all at once.

“Mm,” she murmured, “there’s the fruit and the rose again, but there’s something deeper. Reminds me of something from college. Incense, maybe?”

He hummed. “Patchouli I’d guess, yeah. I’m getting a lot of creamy caramel, too.”

Something about the way he said it made Vi’s brain flatline same as it had in the changing room when he was coaching her. This was the hardest she’d worked on anything since college. No wonder she was stressed out.

She sniffed her skin again and scowled. “You think it's a little strong for me?”

Changkyun stared at her. “Viola, you can pull off anything you want to. You just have to want to. A fragrance like this will give you that aura of confidence that you want.”

“You think?”

“If you let it,” he insisted. “Do you like it?”

“I do.” She paused. “Do you think guys will like it?”

“Without a doubt, but it’s important you love it, too. Just make sure it doesn’t give you a headache. You come first, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Changkyun narrowed his eyes. “I mean it, Viola. Deep-ending things can drown you.”

“I know, Kyun.”

Vi sniffed her wrist again and smiled. She smelled powerful and alluring, and she felt it, too. Her best friend was right. At the end of the day, this was about her and the woman she wanted to be, and she’d never been more grateful to have a man like Changkyun in her corner to remind her of that.

“But it's only for night time, okay?” he said abruptly, and it jerked her out of her thoughts. His back was to her as he returned the other bottles to their sections, though he said over his shoulder, “Don't go wearing that to work.”

Vi laughed. “Why not?”

“Just… don't.”

“Okay fine, man of mystery,” she agreed with a smile.

“Again with the sass,” he scolded. “I’m not trying to be mysterious, you know. I thought I was being pretty transparent.”

“Nothing about you is transparent, Kyun.”

He returned his attention to her long enough to study her face, and then he let out a sigh. He held the bottle in his hand, his thumb polishing one of the facets as he said, “This perfume? It's a love spell. Cast it wisely.”

“I thought we were avoiding love?”

“Different kind of love,” he clarified. “This kind only lasts as long as this scent does.”

“Sounds like you've got a new song in the making,” she teased.

But he remained serious as said, “Don’t waste it on your coworkers.”

With that, Changkyun turned toward the register and the lengthy blonde waiting behind it, who perked the second he headed toward her. Vi hurried to catch up, and when she got there, the associate was already in the back fetching a fresh bottle.

His card was already out of his wallet as he said, “I’ll buy it for you.”

“No, Kyun,” she said waving her hands, “you don’t need to—”

“You weren't expecting to buy it, so I'm not going to make you.”

“But I already owed you dinner to thank you for today.”

“You can take me out another night this week.”

Vi’s eyebrows scrunched. “What about band practice?”

“It’s not every night. Besides, I have to eat, right? You could just swing by one of the nights. The guys would like to see you, too.”

“Okay, fine. I can bring Chicken Box for them,” she suggested.

“And what about for me?” he said with an uncharacteristic pout.

Vi laughed. “All these years, and I’ve rarely seen you jealous. It looks cute on you.”

“I wasn’t going for cute,” he retorted. “I was going for hot.”

She snarled and gave her best friend a shove to his shoulders. “You ass. Maybe I’ll just feed your friends, and I won’t bring you anything at all now.”

“Fine,” he said, hands on his hips as he leaned in with a smug smile. “Then you’ll owe me a private dinner later.”

“Fine,” she responded just as childishly.

For a minute, they stared each other down like it was high noon in the Old West, but Vi broke first, the corner of her lips twitching, and then her best friend followed until they were both laughing as the saleswoman returned.

As soon Vi’s perfume was bagged, Changkyun paid the bill and nodded toward the door. “Come on, let’s get going.”

“Kyun, no more, okay? I don’t know how other people do this much shopping. I’m exhausted.”

“So am I. Now, I’m just hungry.”

At this, Vi perked. “Good. What do you want to eat? The ramen shop Hoseok’s always rambling about is a couple blocks down if you want, or we can get some Vietnamese or Indian. It’s my thanks to you, so it’s your call, but nothing too greasy if you don’t want me falling asleep at the table.”

“Ramen’s good.”

Though Vi was decidedly more extroverted than Changkyun, she loved their easy silences, especially ones like this one. They strolled down the sidewalk under breeze-shaken maples, cars ebbing and flowing like the English Bay. The sun was warm between the skyscrapers, and nearby, silverware clinked in cafes. Sometimes, she would randomly lose her walking partner only to find him stopped somewhere behind her, squinting through storefront displays at Balenciaga or Burberry. Changkyun never said why, but she like to imagine he was dreaming about what he would buy if he made it big with his music someday. He'd always had expensive taste though he rarely splurged.

They stopped at an intersection a block away from the restaurant when a car pulled to a stop at the light, blasting some club pop remix as the driver and passenger scream-sang the lyrics, and a light bulb lit in Vi’s head.

“Hey, that reminds me,” she blurted as she swiveled to face her friend. “What’s the timeline on this mentorship because Tara texted me this flyer that on Wednesday, there’s this DJ—”

Her friend shook his head swiftly. “Wednesday? Viola, no. You’re not ready. You’re nowhere near ready.”

“Not ready? Kyun, we’ve got the bait,” she said as she waggled both handfuls of bags. “Now, we just need a fishing hole.”

“Look, do you just want sex or do you want good sex?”

“Obviously the good stuff…”

“Then pump the brakes,” he said, exasperated. “I feel like you’re not listening to a word I say.”

“That’s not true. I’ve listened to at least five of them,” she replied with a smirk, and Changkyun rolled his eyes.

Just then, her phone rang, and she groped through her hoodie pockets for it. She didn’t have the number in her contacts, but she could have sworn she’d seen it before, so she answered.

“Hello, is this Viola Flowers?” said a rich baritone on the other end.

“Yeah, this is. Who’s this?”

“Oh, hello. This is Son Hyunwoo, from your room. Oh, apologies,” he said immediately. “I mean, I’m the one who looked at renting your spare room.”

Vi pulled to a stop, a big smile on her face. Changkyun stopped, too, watching her with squinted eyes.

“Oh, hey, yeah! I was just talking about you last night,” she said, and her friend tipped his head like a cat unraveling a curious sound. “I’m glad you called. I thought it over, and, yeah, the room’s yours if you want it.”

“Really?” Hyunwoo asked.

“I mean, Minhyuk tried his best to ruin it for you, but if you help me keep his unannounced visits to a minimum, we’re on.”

“I think I can manage that. That’s exactly why I need to move out of his townhome actually. He thinks he’s the lord of the land. I have no room in my life for it.”

Hyunwoo’s tone was so even and serious, it took Vi a lot longer to process his words, and when she did, she brightened. “Was that—was that a pun?”

“I just mean some time apart is meant to be,” Hyunwoo continued unflinchingly. “I need a new sublease on life.”

“I guess it’s not normal wear and tear on your nerves, huh?” Vi prompted, and she could hear the man on the other of the line let out a short, friendly laugh, which made her burst out laughing. She bit her lip to temper her laughter before she trumpeted, “I knew it! It was a terrible pun! And then another? And another? Wow. Just wow. Bad puns are my life blood, but some people don’t really appreciate them.”

She cast a pointed side-eye to her friend, though Changkyun was decidedly unamused. In fact, something about his naturally sharp body lines looked cold and wicked as the steel of a blade.

Vi forced her attention back to her caller and said, “It’s nice to meet another aficionado for the craft of world play. So, you still want to rent the room, right?”

“I do,” Hyunwoo said. “My lease goes through the end of the month here, and I know last time we talked, I said I wouldn’t know if I could even move to the end of the month, but now I’d need to be out by then. Is that okay if it’s a month sooner than I expected?”

“Sooner’s better for me anyway,” she replied.

“Good then. If you have a sublease, can you email it to me so I can review it?”

And he’s responsible to boot? Vi thought to herself, relieved. This was a huge step up from her last disaster of a roomie.

“I’ll send it over when I get home,” she said, and her eyes narrowed. Changkyun had out-paced her now by half a block, hands in his pockets, iris tattoo flexing restlessly. “Hey, Hyunwoo, I’m out right now, so I’ll message you later once I’ve sent the lease, okay?”

“Sounds good. Have a nice day,” said the older man. He had a way of saying things as though he were twenty years older than she was instead of just five.

They said their goodbyes, and Vi jogged lightly to catch up with her best friend, who had already pulled up at the entrance to the noodle shop.

“Okay,” Changkyun said when she got there.

Her brows pinched. “Okay what?”

“Okay, let’s go to this thing on Wednesday.”

Vi dropped her bags to hug her best friend. “Really? Hell yes! Thanks, Kyun.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he mumbled as she crushed him in her embrace. “We're going to have to work through a lot between now and then to get you ready for the real thing, and I’m warning you upfront that you will not be ready by Wednesday, but we'll go and at least practice.”

“Okay, yeah, that sounds good,” she said as she let him go.

“But we're only doing it if you commit to it this week. We've got a lot to cover, so we'll have to meet up most nights.”

“I can do that, but can you? What about your practices?”

“We can work around them.”

“Yay!” Vi squeaked and then quickly tempered when she remembered the whole purpose of today. “I mean, yeah, sure, sounds good.”

Her friend popped one cool eyebrow.

“We can use my place while it’s still just mine,” she suggested as breezed by him into the restaurant. “Oh, yeah, that reminds me. Hyunwoo said he'd take the room. Sounds like he’ll actually start moving stuff in toward the end of the month.”

“That’s faster than you thought,” said Changkyun. “Didn’t you say he wouldn’t even know if he could move before the end of the month, and now, he’s already moving in?”

“Yeah, but at least that means I won’t have to pay the full rent again next month. My bank account will be happy.”

He hummed and returned his attention to the menu.

After they’d ordered, Vi asked, “So what do you want to cover this week?”

“Priority is safety. It always is,” Changkyun replied immediately.

“Of course,” she said though her annoyance was clear in her voice.

Her friend watched her carefully. “I know that's not the fun stuff, but we have to do it, Viola.”

“You sound like my dad,” she pouted. “But there's lots of other fun stuff on my list.”

“I know, and I'm sure you have it all organized in order of importance.”

Vi squinted at him. “Sass is my thing, not yours.”

“Is it sass if it’s factual? I’ll bet you have it typed up in your phone notepad, too.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. How’s that for mystery?” she said coyly. Changkyun raised a brow, and she sighed as she pulled out her phone again. It only took her a second to pull up her “hot girl” list, and she read, “We’ve covered the clothes and accessories. I won’t need you for the other day-of prep, so I guess what’s left is logistics and technique.”

“Technique?” he asked through a slurp of noodles.

“You know, the sexy eyes and dancing and dirty talk stuff.”

Changkyun choked and thumped his chest with his fist before he gulped down some water. After he recovered from his cough, he said, “You expect me to teach you how to dirty talk?”

“I didn’t say that. You asked what’s left. I’m telling you. I’m not going to make this weird for you. I’ll just learn some lines from porn.”

Thankfully, this time, his chopsticks were halfway to his mouth, and he was spared a second round of choking.

“Please don’t,” he said. “I don’t want you picking up insane or bad habits.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do? You know this is not my wheelhouse, and I want to learn. I don’t want to embarrass myself.”

Changkyun smiled at her in his gentle way, his soft parentheses dimples bracketing it. “I understand, but what’s wrong with just trying a few new things at a time? If it’s a little awkward, so what? It happens. Sex isn’t perfect, Viola. Embarrassing stuff happens. Bad dirty talk isn’t a big deal compared to some of the stuff I’ve seen.”

At this prompt, Vi propped both elbows up on the table and set her chin on her fists. With big eyes, she asked, “Really? Like what?”

He frowned lightly and looked down at their food. “I don’t know if this is—”

“Come on, man, you can’t start a thought like that and not finish it. Make me feel better.”

“Fine,” he relented but lowered his voice. “One girl sneezed right into my mouth when she was riding me.”

Vi reeled back, barely missing knocking over her bowl as she cringed. “Oh my god!”

“And another was deepthroating me, gagged herself, and threw up on me.”

“That’s possible?” she squealed.

“Shit happens,” he said with a shrug.

“New fear unlocked, holy shit.”

Changkyun shook his head. “It was messy, yeah, and kind of gross, sure, but I still got them off before they went home.”

“Are you serious?” she gaped. “How are you so calm about that? I’d die. I’d probably never attempt sex again.”

“Like I said, shit happens. They were working hard for me. I had to make them feel better.”

“I swear to god, Kyun, there’s no other man like you.”

“You’d be surprised what a guy can forgive for the sake of sex.”

Vi deflated. “If there’s anything to make me want to stick to your code to the letter, it’s this. I could never see a guy again if I threw up on him. Catch me under a river rock, bye.”

Changkyun resumed his soup slurping as though he hadn’t just traumatized his best friend for life, leaving her to gnaw on the edge of her lip.

“Food’s getting cold,” he nudged as he took another drink.

“I’ll never eat again,” she swore.

“Hot girls eat well, come on.”

“I can’t stand you and your cool guy schtick. Okay, fine,” she said twirling some noodles into a bite. “So this week, I guess I’ll let you be safety officer first, and then maybe you can point out some hot girl dances moves at the DJ thing? You can be my living mirror.”

“Living mirror?” he echoed.

“Yeah, you know. You can reflect my successes and failures. Point out stuff other girls are doing and then give me tips when I try.”

“If that’s what you want.”

Vi nodded as she gulped down a bite.

“And what about the dirty talk lessons?” he asked.

At this, she pursed her lips. “I’m really not trying to overstep your good will, man. There’s, like, Cosmo articles and shit, I’m sure.”

Changkyun laid his chopsticks across his bowl and narrowed his eyes at her. “No, Viola, I know you. If I don't help you, you'll help yourself, and I don't need you shouting ‘Choke me, daddy’ to a stranger.”

It was Vi’s turn to choke. She banged her fist against her collar bone and downed her entire glass of water.

“Shut up,” she hissed, eyes scouring the restaurant. It wasn’t too busy, but that only made it feel that much louder. “I’m not trying to ruin everyone’s meals.”

“Then I suggest you accept my help.”

Vi glowered at him. “All this time, I didn’t realize you were a blackmailer at heart.”

“Comes in handy in the bedroom, too,” he added.

“I have so much to learn, sempai.”

Changkyun smiled that secretive smile once more. His voice dropped in octave as he promised, “Good because there’s so much I want to teach you.”

[20s-turtle-posting]

6.) Do you own any TMNT merchandise?

13.) Which version of Michelangelo is your favorite?

17.) Which version of the Shredder is your favorite?

6) yes!! So. Much. But also not nearly enough lmao. I have a couple funko pops, an orb shaped Raph plush I affectionately call Fat Raph, t shirts, a poster, comics, dvds, some tupperware (listen it was 2014 and I was big into hyperfixation mode, my mom knew that, and she bought me some 2k12 tupperware containers lol, most are gone I think i only have one or two left), plus a ton of fan merch =^-^= oh and my favorite, Burger King Leonardo (2007 movie tie in toy)

(the LPS rabbit is his wife Petunia. I had elaborate plots and marriages and family trees going on with my toys as a kid (no I did not ship leosagi, this is just the funniest possible coincidence))

13) augh this is a tough one!!! I really like what each version of Michelangelo brings to the table in terms of changing up the Mikey status quo and as individuals. I openly admit I'm biased always in favor of 2k3 bc that series is so dear to me, but if Rise had been able to see its full potential rise Mikey would definitely be a contender for #1. He's so charming and multifaceted! (All mikeys are but he's got a scrunkly quality to him)

17) again, tough choice with a heavy 2k3 bias. Especially in the first season of 2k3 he was a terrifying force, unknown, powerful, and with a killer aura. Like 2k12 has a great voice and evil machinations, to be sure, and 87 shredder is iconic ofc, but honestly not much can top the shadowed cowl and glowing red eyeslits from 2k3. The whole design reeks of power and intimidation, and as a child I remember getting goosebumps when he came onscreen those first few times

Rise Shredder again is a top choice for me bc again, the sheer aura. Fuck yes. Terrifying villain and I desperately wish we'd gotten more development. Rise is so excellent and I love it dearly but it was so badly shafted that it feels like it's left with gaping holes, bc it was. This wasn't supposed to be a rise rant but ig it is now lmao

[monosanimegenericzone]

Hunter x Hunter

discoveries ive made about the phantom troupe since getting back into the series:

the backstory. that absolutely fucked me up. i was like a year late to chapters 390-400 and oh my god.

feitan wears that cowl/scarf/funky mouthguard for a reason. he doesn't like to eat what other people touch which is an nod to his work as a torturer which is. chefs kiss. mwah

machi could see nen before anyone else and was fascinated by embalming which we saw much much earlier with hisoka

i still cant tell what kalluto's birth gender is but thats ok i love him

kortopi (i believe) is still their biggest reserve of aura and togashi did not have to do him like that

shalnark's last name is ryusei????? and no one told me???????????

uvo is voiced by otsuka who also voices dimple from mob psycho and that is hilarious to me

bonolenov can shapeshift apparently. good for him

the fucking sun and moon. are you kidding me. that is absolutely terrifying! i hate it! (i love it)

the shalnark kurta theory might be dead but it lives on in my delusions

shal also had long hair at one point and im so not normal about that

bonus not phantom troupe thought:

tonpa would make a great screener for the hunter exam. yknow. the guys that have to let the contestants into the arena first. he'd do great, tell me im wrong.

[moonstrider9904]

The Wookiee Village

Chapter 8 of Moonwalker: The Flame

{series masterlist} {next chapter} {previous chapter}

{crossposted to Wattpad - coming soon} {crossposted to AO3}

Summary: As an incoming battle arrives at the Wookiee village, Sarah tries to balance out her feelings toward what she saw in the cave and her secret being found out by her squad.

Tags/Warnings: Mature. Canon-typical violence, confrontation.

Word count: 7.1k

Every detail Sarah needed to know about the happenings on the surface during her time inside the caves was told to her by Tech while they rode the Mylaya steeds towards the village. The arrival was smooth, and the squad was greeted by the livelihood of the village, with its warm-toned brown huts among the trees and the leaves shining with sunlight on them—it was a far more comforting sight than the previous village that had been lost to rampaging destruction.

The members of Clone Force 99 got down from the steeds and they were led by the warriors into the largest of the houses among the trees, and as they made their way up, they attracted many looks from the Wookiees they crossed paths with, though none were judgmental or ill in nature. It was a stark contrast from most of the other places they’d been to throughout the years.

On the main house, which sat on the thickest tree trunk, they were greeted by the sanctuary’s leader, a tall female Wookiee whose built was slenderer than that of her male counterparts, and her fur was of a brighter shade of brown that was complimented by her pale red hooded cowl. She walked towards them, aiding her steps with a large staff, and as she gazed onto Gungi and the members of Clone Force 99, her eyes appeared gentle and full of wisdom.

Tech took an extra step forward and lowered the visor of his helmet while his brothers removed their own helmets to greet the leader, introduced to them by the warriors as Yanna. As she spoke in her native tongue, Tech translated her welcome as well as her inquiry regarding their arrival and their reason for being there, to which Hunter was the one to answer.

“We came across one of your own, Gungi,” Hunter acknowledged, and then faced Yanna again. “None of us know what part of Kashyyyk he originates from, but we wanted to help get him here. Maybe he can find his home now that he’s among his own.”

Gungi and Yanna looked at each other and smiled fondly at one another before Yanna faced Hunter once more.

“It is always an occasion of happiness when one returns home,” Tech translated for Yanna. “And anyone who cannot find their home is welcome here to be one of our own.”

The squad smiled at Yanna’s words; they seemed to heal the somewhat nomadic nature that their own lives had taken in the recent months. Despite having Ord Mantell to return to, stability was a rare sensation. Being at a village with many people who resembled you, where warmth glistened and the air seemed to embrace everyone together, was a hidden desire that lingered among more than one heart in Clone Force 99. That longing for home emphasized the need to deal with the greater issue at hand, and as Hunter was about to address it, he adopted a foreboding look in his eyes.

“We ran into some Trandoshans along the way,” Hunter began. “They’ve burned down at least one village that we know of, and it seems as if they’re causing damage to more parts of the forest.”

Yanna closed her eyes and exhaled as a solemn aura washed itself on her, and she spoke, in Shyriiwook, “The smoke grows dense along the horizon, and the cries of the trees are far more constant. Kashyyyk is once again being targeted for its resources, but without the Republic, I fear this time we may not have the numbers to fight back.”

Hunter and Echo exchanged looks before the former faced Yanna again.

“If it were not for the woman and the child,” Yanna continued, “I would be quick to assume you are Imperial soldiers. Are the clones not of that allegiance now?”

Hunter shook his head. “We’re not with the Empire. And if you’ll allow us, we’d be happy to help in whatever way we can.”

Yanna directed a nod at him, bowing her head slightly.

“She says that in the meantime, she and the village would like to express their gratitude for helping their warriors and confronting the Trandoshans,” Tech said. “She is inviting us to remain here and share a meal with them.”

“Now you’re talking,” Wrecker chuckled. “Best way to bond species and cultures is through the belly.”

Tech raised the visor of his helmet and looked straight at Wrecker. “That is… wonderfully put. And I am inclined to agree with you.”

Wrecker placed his hands on his hips and grinned. “You should never underestimate me when it comes to my two biggies. Explosives and food.”

Wrecker then stepped forward towards Yanna and bowed slightly in acknowledgement, after which he asked her, in Shyriiwook, if he could enter the main hut. Yanna then gestured at him and the others to join them inside, leading them towards a table where the squad and the warriors gathered around. The meal itself was delightful with warm broths, seasoned meats, and earthy vegetables harmonizing together in a dance of flavors, and the more Sarah felt her stomach becoming full, the more she realized Wrecker had been right. Such a meal raised her appreciation of her current surroundings tenfold.

Hours passed and the sun continued to make its way across the sky, and little by little, the forest darkened. Sarah felt the need to get up and stretch her legs for a while, and besides, the forest was taking a beautiful shade of green due to the setting sun. She made her way toward one of the balconies and rested her hands on the wooden railing as she gazed out into the endless forest, relishing the sight of greens and browns, taking in every bird song and chitter.

Sarah was simply not used to that much green. Whether it was because she grew up on the arid desert of Jedha, or because she constantly returned to the seedy durasteel and concrete streets on Ord Mantell, or even having spent so much time amidst the storm clouds and white hallways of Kamino, a green so rich with life and nature was rare. Closing her eyes, Sarah took a deep breath in along with the scents of cooked food and fresh trees, and as she exhaled, she felt like she could have no other care in the galaxy.

But as she opened her eyes, part of her ached for her prior sentiment to actually be true.

Then, Sarah heard steps approaching behind her, and when she looked over her shoulder, she smiled softly when she noticed it was Tech. His helmet had come off and his eyes were glued to his datapad, but he walked calmly towards her way until he positioned himself at her left side, leaving enough space to not raise any suspicions or draw eyes onto them. Sarah remained silent as Tech continued to look at his datapad, waiting until he finally locked the screen and looked up at her through goggled eyes.

“One thing I have read about before in regard to the Force is the lingering physical effects that a vision can cause on whomever witnesses them,” Tech began. “That and you were down in a cave for an extended period of time considering you were down there by yourself.”

“Yes,” Sarah nodded.

“Are you sensing anything out of the ordinary after your odyssey in the caves?” Tech asked her. “Have you noticed any symptoms? Headache, soreness around the eyes?”

Sarah chuckled. “No, none so far. I did pass out after my vision, though.”

Tech’s eyes widened. “And why did I not receive a distress signal from you?”

“My comm wasn’t working,” Sarah said. “Even if it was, I didn’t have the time or the headspace to send a signal.”

Tech’s features seemed to harden as Sarah’s words did little to soothe his concern.

“I suppose we could work on improving reaction times in the event of an emergency,” Tech said. “Whether that is to enhance the reach of your comm, which I could do in a matter of minutes, or establishing a time limit of being apart which, after exceeded, we should immediately drop our current course of action to look for one another, no matter the circumstances.”

Sarah could only smile at him. “Tech?”

He exhaled, unamused. “I am serious, Sarah. To tell you that I was concerned while you were down there would be a severe lack of approximation to the actual sensation.”

“And I appreciate that,” she smiled softly—she would have reached for his hand if their relationship wasn’t still a secret from the others. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t think I was in any real danger. Difficult as it was to face some things, the Force was guiding me.”

“What things?” Tech asked.

Sarah sighed. “Just… the things I saw. What they could mean.”

“Please elaborate,” Tech requested.

“Well…” Sarah took a deep breath. “I had flashbacks of some things that had happened. I was in the same caves where I once entered with Crosshair, so he came up in my visions. I saw you as well. I saw a man I didn’t know, but… his eyes were blue. Then I saw some violence, clouds, explosions… things I can’t really make sense of right now.”

“Was that all you saw?” Tech had leaned in slightly closer with his unwavering attention fully on her.

Sarah had hoped he didn’t ask that. “I… I also saw myself.”

“Oh,” Tech replied. “Well. That seems straightforward.”

“I suppose,” Sarah nodded slowly. She had already decided she wouldn’t let herself stumble into that direction, not as long as she had her family. That much should be enough for the moment, and she wouldn’t force herself into discussing the worst of her visions out loud.

“I will still enhance the range of your comm,” Tech said.

A smile appeared on her lips again, and Sarah fought the urge to reach up and kiss Tech’s cheek. The two made eye contact, and by the way in which Tech’s eyes softened, Sarah could tell he’d picked up on her intent. Sarah hesitated, finding herself on the brink of perking up on her toes and actually kissing him—it wasn’t as if it would be much of a shock, right? She and Tech had spend a lot of time together, and she was sure Echo and Wrecker must have noticed when she and Tech were off elsewhere on Safa Toma, even Ord Mantell. And besides, Tech looked too damn gorgeous in the warm sunset lighting contrasting with all the green trees. After a few more seconds, he’d be impossible for Sarah to resist.

And just as she was making up her mind, she heard another set of steps approaching them, and quickly, Tech and Sarah flinched away from each other ever so slightly. Soon, Echo appeared with them, walking up to them on the balcony and positioning himself just between Tech and Sarah, indiscreetly having to push them both for him to have enough room, and Echo stood there in silence. He didn’t frown, he didn’t smile. He didn’t have a particular expression on his features, and after a few seconds that felt eternal, he finally turned his head to look at his oldest friend.

“Sarah,” Echo acknowledged.

“Echo,” she reciprocated.

Echo then faced the other way. “Tech.”

“Echo,” Tech said as he pulled his datapad out once more and glued his eyes to it, not once making eye contact with Echo.

A few more seconds passed in silence, and Echo turned to Sarah again. “Say… you’d tell me if something was new with you, wouldn’t you?”

Sarah nearly laughed—of course nothing would get past Echo.

“Eventually, I would,” Sarah replied.

“Ah,” Echo nodded slowly, raising his eyebrows at her, his gaze whispering you don’t fool me. Then, Echo faced Tech, inquisitive. “What about you? You’d also tell me if there was something I needed to know, right?”

“Yes, I would,” Tech answered without a shadow of a doubt.

“And?” Echo prompted. “What would that be?”

Tech raised the datapad and looked out into the forest. “Trandoshans are incoming.”

All hints of mischief left Echo, and he looked into the datapad alongside Tech.

“Smoke is approaching from the west,” Tech said. “It will not take them long to reach this village.”

“We need to warn Yanna,” Echo said, walking back inside. “Hunter!”

Upon Echo’s warning, movement spiked among the hut. Wookiee warriors who had been enjoying leisure time mobilized into formation, and out in the balcony, Sarah and Tech faced each other in concern.

“Your comm,” Tech said. “You must promise me that at the first sign of danger, you will contact me if we are not together.”

Forgetting any need to hide and keep secrets, Sarah gently cupped Tech’s cheeks and looked into his brown eyes.

“I promise,” she said.

With his free hand, Tech briefly brushed the back of Sarah’s palm before beginning to walk off.

“Tech,” Sarah called after him. “You too, alright? You’ll contact me too?”

Wordless, Tech nodded in response and slid his helmet on over his head, walking down the hut to aid wherever he was needed. Sarah watched him go for a brief few moments before looking at the table where she’d been sitting before, enjoying a meal. In front of the table, there was only one figure who stood still, facing her stern and stoic, with eyes full of heartbreak. Sarah didn’t need anything else to know Hunter had seen her with Tech, and her features fell in disappointment—despite her resentment, Sarah knew Hunter didn’t deserve to find out that way.

There they stood, Sarah and Hunter, looking at each other while around them everyone prepared for an incoming fight. Hunter’s wounded gaze, Sarah’s look of remorse, it added a bitterness to the foreboding that had fallen upon the village. And just as Sarah would have approached Hunter to try to say something, even if it was just the reassurance that she was planning on telling him, Gungi approached her and tugged on her wrist, asking her to follow him. She looked at Gungi for a quick second before looking back at Hunter, hoping she would still get her chance to talk to him before the inevitable battle struck, but seeing that Sarah was clearly needed elsewhere and preferred other places to be, Hunter put his helmet on and walked down the hut as well.

Sarah hated having to leave things like that—she didn’t regret giving Tech the assurance he needed, though—and she followed Gungi down to the ground of the forest, knowing there were more pressing matters to be dealt with. And so, she focused on him as well as on the number of Wookiees gathering around the trunk of the towering Wroshyr tree, each of them picking a spot around the trunk and bowing their head, as well as placing their palms flat on the bark. Sarah hesitated while watching, but Gungi gestured at her to come closer. Without questioning him, Sarah followed and did the same as the Wookiees.

When Sarah placed her palms on the Wroshyr tree, she felt herself becoming inundated with warmth and what she could only describe as the essence of the forest itself; life and rain and the symbiotic nature of every organism on the planet, all entwined together through the same vitality known to her as the Force. She closed her eyes and listened, feeling the sensation coursing through her as if it could wash away distractions, and it was then that she knew exactly what she had to do.

The Force wielders shall not be separated, and if only for this night, they shall follow the rule of two. The whole village must be like the forest, together as one, and only then can the adversary be defeated.

When Sarah opened her eyes, she felt both fulfilled and vacant all at once. The voice in her mind had been soothing, and the sensation had been so comforting that she didn’t want to let it go. Regardless, her mission was clear, and she looked down at Gungi without a shadow of a doubt, realizing she had been tasked with guiding him, if only for that night. If the Force thought her capable of it, Sarah wouldn’t question it.

Perhaps that was what Sarah needed, to not question the Force. If she could get Gungi successfully through the night, and by extension, the other Wookiees, maybe she could trust in her future not being doomed to darkness.

The Wookiee warriors relayed the details of the strategy to the rest of the village as well as the remaining members of Clone Force 99, who all listened carefully and without question or even the need to add anything to the plan, and it warmed Sarah’s heart to see them all in that position. She particularly kept an eye on Tech, who approached the Wookiees with a sense of curiosity rather than his usual intellectual dominance, even in spite of having it at the moment. Sarah tried to get glimpses of Hunter, but they couldn’t make eye contact even once during the briefing. Sarah was at least comforted by the fact that Hunter was getting on exceptionally well with the Wookiees, and he was clearly the one most open to their ways and their ideas. It wasn’t as if Hunter was the type to sit down and become destroyed by his feelings, either way. She knew Hunter would pull through anything with superhuman strength if need be.

The smell of smoke became prominent in the air, its pungent scent bleeding through the fresh green and natural scents of the forest. Not long after, the sound of the incoming tanks could be heard, and Sarah led Gungi towards one of the edges of the village. The two climbed one on each of the larger trees and waited for the tanks that were coming their way in hopes of intercepting them and leaving them disabled. With two tanks down, the rest of the villagers had higher odds of surviving the battle. From across the trees, Sarah and Gungi made eye contact when the first two tanks approached. The plan was clear—get in, leave the pilot unconscious, get back out, and join the front lines with the Wookiee warriors.

When the tanks were close enough, Sarah gave a nod at Gungi. She was the first to jump at the tank that was in proximity to her, making a swift and light landing on the tank’s hull, allowing her to be unnoticed until she broke open the cabin and took out the pilot, disabling the tank. The tank pulled to a halt and she emerged from it only to see that Gungi had been successful in his own affair, with him popping up from inside the tank with a big smile. Pleased that the plan had worked, Sarah and Gungi regrouped on the ground between the two tanks and were just about to head towards the warriors, when Sarah felt her marks burn and the hair behind her head standing on end. She gave a sharp turn in the direction she’d been called to look at, but her own instincts made her turn away.

“Get down!” She yelled at Gungi, pushing him to the ground with her as she leapt forward to avoid an incoming cannon bolt. The bolt caused a fire to catch on the bushes that were just past them, and shocked from having just nearly missed it, Sarah and Gungi perked up and looked behind them to look at its source.

A third tank had taken that route, one they hadn’t considered. The tank momentarily pulled to a halt, and a Trandoshan male emerged from it, staring at Gungi and at Sarah with blood-thirsty eyes and a wicked grin on his lizard-like features.

Gungi roared menacingly, and Sarah then knew who it was. It was Venomor, the leader she’d been briefed on prior to the battle by Gungi himself, and he was privy to Gungi’s Force-sensitivity. If there was a dangerous opponent during that battle, it was Venomor, and he’d no doubt want to take Gungi into the Empire’s hands.

“He’s gonna want to come after us,” Sarah told Gungi. “Let’s lead him away from the battle and we’ll call in reinforcements to ambush him from behind.”

Gungi got up and nodded at her, bringing out his lightsaber and igniting it. He gestured at Sarah to follow him deeper into the forest, and without a question, Sarah went with him. On the way, Sarah commed Wrecker and Tech, telling them to be ready for her signal, and it wasn’t long before Gungi had led them to a spot that felt more remote from the battle. As expected, a sole tank was approaching—Venomor had taken the bait. Sarah knew it wouldn’t be easy, but nothing had prepared her for the multiple incoming cannon bolts from the tank. She and Gungi were forced to scatter, each one hiding under fallen logs and bushes; Sarah figured it was fortunate that the cannon blasts had lifted smoke and dirt, otherwise, Venomor would have seen where they hid.

Sarah took out her comm, and she was just about to call for backup when her own theory was proven wrong, and another blast from the tank landed close to her—too close that it couldn’t be a coincidence, but not that close that it would harm her. Sarah was forced to put her comm away and gain some distance, and she then noticed that Venomor had actually gotten off the tank. She emerged from hiding with the rifle assembled, pointing it at him, and shortly after that, Gungi appeared beside her with his lightsaber ignited.

“You’re standing in my way, sweetheart,” Venomor told Sarah, aiming a blaster with one hand only. “Let me have the Wookiee and I’ll let you go.”

Sarah aimed the Firepuncher just beside Venomor’s foot and fired, unwilling to listen to anything from him. Unamused by her shot, Venomor pulled a large flamethrower in her direction with the other hand and ignited it, shooting a stream of flames at her and Gungi, forcing them into hiding once again.

“I think that was my bad,” Sarah acknowledged.

“He’s going to burn up everything around us,” Gungi roared. “Can’t you fire at his weapon?”

“No, that thing runs on fuel,” Sarah said. “If I shoot it, it’s going to explode, and we’ll have even more fire to worry about.”

“So what do we do now?” Gungi asked her.

Sarah looked him in the eyes. “We scatter. He can only focus on one of us at a time. He’ll most likely come for you, so I’ll take him out when he does.”

“Don’t kill him,” Gungi growled in his native Shyriiwook as he reached for Sarah’s wrist. “That isn’t the Jedi way. If it is his fate, it will not come by our hands.”

Sarah hesitated, but as she wasn’t a Jedi, she knew there were things about the Force only Gungi would have an insight on. She nodded at him and emerged from the bushes just after he did, circling around Venomor in the opposite direction. Venomor had indeed focused on Gungi, and it gave Sarah enough of a window to fire the rifle. She fired at his legs and his shoulders, but his Trandoshan build was strong, and it would take more than that to neutralize him. Sarah ran across the space and steadied herself while Gungi kept Venomor occupied, and she took two quick blasts with the rifle, one on each forearm, making Venomor drop the flamethrower to the ground with a loud grunt of pain.

Sarah gave a light sigh of relief, but she kept the Firepuncher aimed and ready. Venomor was slick, and since Sarah had only fired at his forearms, he still had use of his hands. Unnaturally quickly, Venomor took out a grenade and threw it at the tank just over the fuel compartment, and Sarah only had enough reaction time to gasp and cry out for Gungi to take cover. The grenade blew and caused an enormous explosion, with fire catching onto the adjacent trees, leaves, and bushes, leaving Sarah to run enough to barely take cover behind a tree. She was about to climb it, but the shock wave from the explosion made it to her and knocked her onto a tree trunk, causing her to fall to the ground afterwards, barely conscious.

Her ears rang and the sounds around her were muffled. She had a headache and her body felt sore from the impact, but she was conscious enough to reach into her belt for her comm to send a signal to Tech. She still remembered he wanted her to contact him if anything happened. Then, Sarah placed a palm firmly on the ground to absorb the planet’s life force, just as she’d done multiple times before, and through the essence of Kashyyyk, she was able to regain just enough strength to recognize Gungi coming up to her and helping her up. Sarah had managed to sit up on the ground with Gungi’s help, and just as she made sense of her surroundings, she felt a third creature nearby, one that wasn’t familiar.

Sarah turned sharply beside her to see the Netcaster towering over her, a large creator with far too many legs and eyes for her liking. Its pincers were pointed at her, and the creature screeched, and Sarah couldn’t help but cry out in response. She shifted on the ground in an attempt to get far away from the creature, but Gungi steadied her by hanging onto her shoulders and comforting her, holding out his hand to pacify the Netcaster. Sarah hesitated, but with deep breaths, she coaxed herself into calming down and managed to convince the creature she meant no harm and wasn’t a threat—it made sense to her. It was a neutral life form, not unlike a few of the ones she’d encountered in her time, some of them inside the very caves of Kashyyyk. Surely enough, the Netcaster made its way past Sarah and Gungi, followed by two more who marched along the burning woods.

They made it to Venomor, and he wasn’t as aware of how to deal with those life forms as Sarah and Gungi. Even if he had known, he wouldn’t have cared. Without a second thought, Venomor began fighting the Netcasters, giving Sarah and Gungi enough of a window to get farther away from him and the flames. When they were at a safe enough distance, they heard pained cries full of fear coming from Venomor, and they both stared, horrified at the sight of the Netcasters enveloping a weakened, terrified Venomor in their webs and carrying him up into the trees. Though Sarah was struck by such a scene, she controlled her thundering heartbeat and let the creatures be, remembering the words Gungi had spoken to her earlier. And soon enough, the cries had disappeared, and the roaring sound of crackling flames and branches replaced Sarah and Gungi’s worries.

The two got down from the tree and witnessed the expanding fire around them, ravaging the trees as well as the remains of the exploded tank. It would be far too much to put out even amongst all the villagers, and upon realizing that, Sarah took a deep breath and grounded herself, pacing slowly closer toward the flames.

She turned to look at Gungi and beckoned. “Come, now let me teach you something.”

Gungi went and stood beside her and put his lightsaber away as Sarah hooked the Firepuncher on her back, leaving her hands free.

“We’ll have to wield the Force around the flames,” Sarah said. “It courses around everything, remember that. If we wield it towards the flames and engulf them, we can extinguish them.”

Sarah held her hands out, knowing it would be no easy task, but she wasn’t alone either. Together, she and Gungi focused their energy on the same plane, two wielders of the Force working in unison to save the life of the forest—such a noble intent nearly prompted the Force itself to move on its own.

*

Tech had been running through the forest just as soon as he’d been able to detach himself from the battle. He’d heard the explosion and seen the flames expanding without Sarah’s signal, and he mentally cursed himself for waiting that long. He should have known better. He should have equated the explosion and expanding fire to danger, and yet, he was only just now running towards Sarah’s location with Wrecker and Omega following closely behind him. Tech had both of his blasters pulled out, ready to fire at anything that threatened Sarah, and by the beacon of her comm, he knew when she was in proximity.

When he and the others finally reached the location of Sarah’s beacon, they all stood still, bewildered by the sight. Tech’s eyes widened as he pulled branches out of his way to make the sight clearer, and beneath his goggled, his eyes widened in fascination as he witnessed Sarah and Gungi standing side by side with their hands extended forward, each one wielding what Tech could only conceive as massive amounts of power while they appeared to manipulate the flames around them. Tech watched as the flames decreased in size and were replaced by smoke, only tearing his gaze from the flames to watch Sarah guiding Gungi through it, until they moved their arms down in sync when the flames were small enough, and they had managed to extinguish the once raging fire in their area.

Exhausted, both Sarah and Gungi knelt to the ground. The two of them exchanged looks, panting and laughing softly at their success, and Sarah gently pet Gungi’s shoulder.

“Well done,” Sarah smiled. “Young Padawan.”

Gungi smiled at her. It had been a long time since he’d been called that, and a part of him gravely missed it.

Just then, Omega and Wrecker ran up to Sarah and Gungi. Omega helped Gungi to standing while Wrecker helped Sarah get back up. Sarah thanked him, and then she looked over in Tech’s direction to see him standing and staring at her, completely silent, and with eyes that were almost completely round.

Sarah chuckled and walked up to him. “Tech?”

“That,” Tech began. “That was the single most astonishing, intriguing thing I have witness in my lifetime. You must tell me how you did that. I will want to study further, much further.”

Sarah smiled gently at him. “You got it. I’ll elaborate on the way home, deal?”

“Deal,” Tech agreed.

“If you two don’t mind, we still have some fire to deal with near the village,” Wrecker interrupted.

“Of course,” Sarah sighed, partly losing her balance.

Wrecker had lunged forward to keep Sarah from falling, but Tech, standing next to her, beat him to it. He wrapped an arm around Sarah’s waist and helped her stand still, his eyes never leaving her even for a moment. Sarah gazed at him and smiled softly, grateful, and she too wrapped an arm around Tech while the other softly held his hand on her waist. Feeling eyes on them, Tech and Sarah looked back at Wrecker, who stared at him with his jaw dropped and his eyes quickly switching back and forth from Sarah to Tech.

“Um,” Sarah said. “Wrecker? Shouldn’t we head back? You could skip ahead, if you like.”

Wrecker’s gaze fixated on Sarah. “Oh, right. And I could just leave you and Tech all alone.”

“Whichever one you may prefer, we should probably head back to the village,” Tech answered, unbothered.

Wrecker chuckled. “I knew it!”

He turned around and helped Gungi back to the village. Omega stayed back for a few short moments and looked at Sarah and Tech the same way Wrecker had, and Sarah could tell Omega was struggling to hide a mischievous, painfully obvious grin before she ran off after Wrecker.

“They all know,” Sarah said into the darkness when they were finally alone.

“Oh, they definitely know,” Tech agreed.

Sarah sighed. “I’ll deal with them later. We should really get back.”

“We will deal with them later, my dear,” Tech corrected. “And there is no need for urgency. The battle is won and all that’s left is to put out the fire, but the warriors have that covered.”

Sarah smiled at Tech as he began pacing carefully, helping her along with him.

“I can walk,” Sarah said softly. “Really.”

“I will not ease my care until I have supervised a thorough medical examination,” Tech said. “Until then, I will aid you.”

Sarah blushed, grinning suggestively at him. “You’re so attractive when you’re strict about others’ well-being, you know that?”

“Then you’ll have quite some trouble concealing your appetites for me over the next few hours, my darling,” Tech glanced at her. “I will not let you out of my sight.”

Sarah gave a fake moan. “Stars, take me now.”

“Be serious,” Tech said.

“Okay, I’ll be serious,” Sarah said, leaning into him just a bit more as Tech continued to walk her back towards the village.

By the time the sun rose, the flames had all been quenched. Sarah rested on a cot inside one of the treehouses of the village with her back against the headboard, watching Tech as he put away his supplies. The sight of him taking the role of medical caretaker inside a Wookiee household brought back yet another swarm of memories to Sarah, but being in Tech’s company, these memories felt more sweet than bitter.

“Remember the time you had to inject an antidote into my butt?” Sarah giggled.

“Yes, I remember quite well,” Tech said as he finished cleaning up and put his helmet beside his datapad, looking straight at Sarah. “I do not know why you are making such a big deal of it.”

“It’s nostalgic,” Sarah smiled.

“Yes, but there is nothing there I haven’t already seen,” Tech replied.

Sarah gasped. “Tech! You sly dog!”

“I speak the truth only,” Tech picked up his datapad and approached the cot. “You are indeed alright, you just needed rest.”

“I told you there was nothing to worry about,” Sarah reached for his hand.

“Yes, well,” Tech said. “I will always want to be sure. Now, I should see how things outside are going. I’ll come and get you when we’re about to leave.”

“Okay,” Sarah muttered.

Her gaze lingered on Tech as he gathered his things and left the room, and just as he was on the doorstep, he was blocked by another figure. Both Sarah and Tech tensed when they realized it was Hunter who had appeared at the doorframe, and when he saw that they were both together, Hunter let out a heavy sigh and acknowledged Tech with slightly unamused eyes.

“Tech,” Hunter said.

“I was just leaving,” Tech answered. “Do try not to have your usual effect on her after whatever conversation you may have.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hunter frowned.

“Tech, it’s okay,” Sarah called from the cot. “Really.”

Tech directed a look at Sarah over his shoulder, and after nodding, he acknowledged Hunter one final time before making his way down to the village. Hunter and Sarah were then left alone in a thick, tense silence, and unlike most times in her life, Sarah had no idea what to say. She didn’t know where to begin. She didn’t have anything to hold Hunter accountable for. Stars, she knew he was the one who had every right to hold her accountable. Sarah looked at him, worried, waiting for whatever it was he had to say.

Hunter carefully stepped into the room, crossing his arms as he looked at her without any particular anger in his gaze. No, as Sarah watched him, she decided he didn’t look angry. Hunter looked tired. Weary. Disappointed.

“I…” Hunter broke the silence. “I heard about you and Gungi.”

Sarah felt some of the weight being lifted. If Hunter was willing to make some sort of small talk, it was surely a good sign.

“Yeah, well,” Sarah answered. “It was fitting for us to stick together and use our common abilities.”

Hunter nodded, finding himself at a loss of words. Sarah then sighed, and she was just about to speak up when Hunter held his hand out, softly shaking his head.

“Don’t, Sarah, please,” he stopped her. “This is already hard enough.”

Sarah nodded. She wasn’t pleased with sitting in that tension, but she didn’t say anything more in the meantime. It was then that Hunter reached for the medication that sat on the cot’s bedside stool, hoping to distract himself momentarily by looking into what was in it, but when he bent over, a small object seemed to escape one of his pouches. It was tiny, and it bounced a few times on the floor before Hunter finally caught it and held it between his fingers, looking at it and sighing in relief as not having lost it. Sarah looked at the object too, as well as Hunter’s relieved facade when he held it safely in his hand, and Sarah felt her heart plummet to her stomach when she realized what he was holding was yet another little nod at the first time she had been to Kashyyyk with Clone Force 99, one last reminder of her first time down in those caves.

It was the emerald that she’d gotten as a gift for Hunter.

Looking at him, she felt numb. A faint sensation of vertigo washed over her, swaying her as she leaned harder back onto the headboard to keep balance when she realized how tired she was of fighting him, how tired she was of hurting him, of punishing him. She realized how much it was hurting her too, and everyone else in that family, for that matter.

“I’m done fighting with you,” she finally admitted.

At that moment, when Hunter heard those words, his chest sank as he exhaled every bit of tension he held within him. He felt he could run to her and take her in his arms, tell her how sorry he was for everything he’d done, for all the pain he’d caused her.

“Sarah…” Hunter walked up to her, his arms extending, ready to pull her into an embrace. He hesitated, waiting for her to stop him.

But she didn’t stop him. She didn’t do anything.

“What is it?” He asked her, his voice hushed in fear.

Sarah met his eyes. “I only said I don’t want to fight anymore. That doesn’t mean you and I are still… you know.”

Hunter lowered his arms. “Of course. You and Tech, huh?”

Sarah breathed out, and she too seemed to release some unwanted tension. But when she looked up at him again, tears pooled her eyes.

“I was going to tell you,” Sarah said. “I have no excuse. You didn’t deserve to find out that way. Hell, you didn’t deserve a lot of the things I said or did to you.”

“I caused you pain, Sarah,” Hunter said. “I never wanted to, but I did. I understand if you at any point felt like you wanted to get back at me.”

“That’s not what this is,” Sarah said. “I promise you, Tech isn’t a rebound. I’m not using him, I never would. Tech has been there for me all this time. He’s been so amazing. And… well, this happened.”

Hunter nodded.

“I’m so sorry,” Sarah continued. “I know a part of you hoped we would get back together, but I just don’t feel that way, and it’s not fair for you to be holding on either.”

Hunter put the emerald back in his pouch and took a seat at the foot of Sarah’s cot, looking at her softly. “I can’t exactly tell you I’m thrilled about seeing you and Tech be a couple.”

“And you’re right not to,” Sarah said.

Hunter’s features softened, and he met Sarah’s gaze, and he looked at her with the sincerity only someone who loved unconditionally could muster.

“But I don’t want to fight with you either,” Hunter admitted. “You don’t have to be my lover, I just want you back.”

Sarah’s features softened too. “I can do that.”

“Just…” Hunter continued. “Just let me tell you, Sarah. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. All this time I’ve only wanted to choose what’s best for everyone but I didn’t stop to think about how it would affect you, and now you’re caught up in the middle of it all. You’ve a right to be angry at me, and I know I don’t always make the right decision.”

“I know you only try to do what’s best,” Sarah said. “And I know what a weight it is on your shoulders to know it hasn’t always worked out for everyone. That’s why I’m sorry too… for throwing it all in your face like that.”

Hunter nodded softly and mustered a subtle smile. “Thanks.”

Sarah nodded back, and after a brief moment in silence, she removed the covers from her figure and swung her legs down the side of the cot, ready to stand back up. Hunter helped her up from the cot, and the two walked out of the hut together, heading down the stairs.

“He does look after you really well, Tech. I’ll hand him that,” Hunter admitted.

Sarah smiled softly. “I’ll say. After the way he just bared his teeth at you?”

Hunter chuckled. “You should have seen him as a cadet. He took nothing from no one. After a few years, he simply decided to focus plainly on what mattered. You should take it as a compliment that he’s willing to invest time arguing over you.”

Sarah laughed softly in return. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Hunter mustered a smile, but Sarah could see it in his eyes. It still hurt for Hunter to have to let go of Sarah that way, and it hurt Sarah to cause him such a pain. But progress had been made, and if the two were heading down the village without arguing for the first time in a very long while, Sarah would accept it. For the time being, at least, it was time to go home, and they would be able to do it together, without the need to split up upon arrival.

Sarah found comfort knowing that was, in some ways, what was best for the family.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog to support me! Divider at the top made by stars-n-spice.

Taglist: @nunanuggets @arctrooper69 @jelly-m0onbeans

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NEXT CHAPTER ->

[aliasknives]

wip wednesday

tagged by @threeofswrds (thank you)! tagging @nullcanary @mycolalia and @orlesianapologist to join in if they would like (sorry it’s so late in the day for EDT people). also tagging anyone that wants to join!

surprising nobody, it’s more pre-canon durgetash. this is a first draft so it’s still very unpolished. i wanted to write their first meeting and how it went (it went badly, arguably, but not as badly as it could have).

he was an arms-dealing worshipper of the god of tyranny, she was literally murder incarnate, can i make it anymore obvious…

cw: canon-typical violence, mention of animal death

Only now does Enver realize that he is outmatched. That he might die, here and now, and it would be the end of everything. Assassinated in his prime, chest split open by a knife buried in his heart. Bleeding to death in a damned alleyway like an urchin. Like a cobbler’s son.

The moonlight catches on the man’s leather armor, glinting on the silver pin on his breast. A Harper symbol: the sign of a meddling do-gooder. He’s almost flattered. If the Harpers have caught wind of the church’s resurgence, it must be going well.

A flash of movement, and hot blood spurts across his face; the assassin’s throat splits near to the bone. The man’s knees buckle, and he crumples to the ground, knife clattering with him.

The new shadow before Enver is slight, and descends upon him before he can breathe a sigh of relief. In an instant, there is a new blade against his chest.

“You have Harpers following you.” The voice is smooth, melodic. Not unpleasant, but cool and uncaring.

Had, Enver catches himself thinking. No matter. Now is not the time for splitting hairs. He nods once in agreement.

“Why?” She—he’s guessing, but quite certain—spins the knife in her grip, but does not let it fall away from its target. The blade scratches a thin line into his skin.

“Political differences,” he grits out. Between the figure’s cowl and the night’s cover, there is no telling who stares back at him. Or what.

“Bold of you,” she replies. “To keep secrets from one who holds your life in her hands.”

Her. He was right. Hardly a victory given the circumstances, but it’s something to cling to.

“You follow Bane. Or at least,” she nods to the Harper splayed out on the wet cobblestone, “he thought you did.”

“Do you mean to gut me for it?”

He swears he can feel her smiling, and imagines a mouth of razor teeth.

“Do I look like a Harper, Banite?” The shadow sheaths her knife with a sweeping motion, flexing her long fingers as if she’d been holding it for some time.

“Difficult to say.”

She lets out a curt sigh, and lowers her hood. There is an uncanny air to her, a predator’s aura; her dark hair is a mess, and a pair of unblinking yellow eyes stare back at him. Curious, he first thinks. And then it dawns on him.

Hungry.

As a boy, Enver watched a cat corner a mouse. The feral thing swatted it back and forth, tearing at it with its claws, before finally planting the killing bite.

It is not a memory he often thinks of.