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drmaliceoffcial · 4 months

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To generate interest in my book, I've decided to share the first two chapters of Dr. Malice for free today!

Take a read and tell me what you think!

In the summer of 1989, the sleepy little town of Midway Falls, Virginia is plagued with bizarre power surges, missing people, and violent murders. Teenager Cammy Karnell finds herself at the center of it all when her brother vanishes without a trace. Determined to reunite her family, Cammy with help from her Galaga playing best friend Billy Brown investigate the bizarre occurrences going on in Midway Falls. As the rumors of government conspiracies and haunted arcades fly, the two teens come face to face with a supernatural force unlike any other in the heart of their local small town arcade. Now tasked with helping the ghost of a dead game developer remember his past and overcome his own inner demons, Cammy, Billy, and the entire population of Midway Falls are about to have the foundations of their lives rocked forever.

June, 1989

“So you think I'm stupid, huh?”

A young girl rode with her older brother in his beat up red Honda Civic. The radio blared Young MC's “Bust a Move” as the two drove down through the downtown streets. The sun was setting, it was warm outside. Kids were walking down the street towards the same place the siblings were heading.

It was summer vacation, and the kids of Midway Falls were ready to have some fun.

Nick laughed, “That's what Dexter told me! He said there’s a ghost of an old man haunting Ant’s and snatches stupid little nerd kids like you straight into Hell!”

“Nick, I don't believe any of that for a minute,” the young girl said, brushing her fingers through her strawberry blonde hair, “I'm not a little kid anymore.”

“You don't believe it started bleeding out of the screen?”

“Dexter is an idiot, of course he’d believe garbage like that. That's why you hang out with him.”

“And who do you hang out with, Cammy? Huh? Huh? You're too big of a dweeb to have friends.”

Cammy huffed, “I have friends.”

“Yeah? Name one.”

“Billy is my friend.”

“Hardly counts, he’s a total dweeb. Then again, maybe that’s why you hang out with him!”

“Why don’t you keep your eyes on the road?”

Nick finally shut up and trained his eyes on the road again, singing along badly to the radio. Cammy was already getting a headache from him, but she was hoping once they got to the arcade she wouldn't have to deal with him much.

Their father was out of town on some fancy business trip. Their mother was working late, helping shut down the school before summer vacation was in full swing. Nick was going to the arcade with some of his friends, but mom insisted he couldn't leave his little sister at home. So he was forced to bring Cammy along against his will. She didn’t really want to come along with him either, but she didn’t have a choice in the matter either.

As long as she stayed out of his way, she'd be fine.

Nick sang along loudly as he punched her none too gently in the shoulder. She groaned and adjusted her glasses, already wishing she could jump out of the moving vehicle.

Finally, the car pulled up in the parking lot of a run down strip mall. Ivy snaked along the brick walls, threatening to consume them entirely. The neon lights glowed brightly on the front of the building, displaying “ANT'S ARCADE”. The “E” in “ARCADE” was flickering in and out periodically, appearing like the flashing light of a club. Other kids Cammy recognized from school were already going in. She was excited.

They got out of the car and strutted into the building. The arcade was full of kids playing on the machines, running around and watching others get high scores. Music was blaring while machines beeped and flashed bright colors. Just watching it was a thrill. Cammy couldn't wait to jump into the middle of it all.

“Shit.” Nick said, reaching into his pockets.

Cammy scowled, “You know mom said not to swear.”

“Shut up!” Nick shot back, “I forgot my quarters at home!”

“Well, sucks to be you then.”

Nick looked at her. His eyes trailed down to the purse hanging from her shoulder. He started smiling evilly.

Cammy took a few steps back, “Oh no you aren't! You did this the last time! I'm not giving you my quarters!”

“Fine then. I'll take ‘em!”

Nick snatched Cammy's purse off her shoulder, digging through it. Cammy cried out and tried to take it back, but he held it out of her reach. He pulled out all the quarters he could find and dropped it on the floor.

“Thanks, dork!” He taunted as he ran off to join his friends at the Operation Wolf cabinet, some stupid shooter war game Cammy had no interest in.

She picked her purse up off the floor and groaned. Nick had taken all of her quarters and left her with nothing. Now she couldn't play any of the games. She'd just be stuck here watching everyone else play for the next few hours.

Except...

There was someone she could talk to. Maybe he'd help her.

Cammy walked through the crowded rows of kids playing the games, reaching the front counter. An overweight balding man ran the counter, wiping down the surfaces and exchanging dollars for quarters. He wore a purple shirt with the arcade’s logo and mascot on it. His cargo shorts jingled with the sounds of quarters. When he saw Cammy, his eyes lit up and a smile crossed his face.

“Aaay! If it ain't Cammy!” He greeted her heartily, “How ya doing? How's your parents?”

Cammy smiled back at him weakly, “I'm good. They're good. Yeah. Umm... Mr. Ant, can I ask a favor?”

Mr. Ant perked a playful eyebrow, “Your brother stole your quarters again, huh?”

Cammy giggled awkwardly, “Yeah... I tried to stop him but he's too tall and held my purse out of my reach.”

Mr. Ant chuckled as he reached into his cargo shorts and pulled out a handful of quarters, handing them to Cammy, “Big brothers will be big brothers. If I see him taking your quarters again, I'll be sure to give him a firm talking to.”

Cammy grinned, taking the quarters and shoving them in her jean jacket pocket, “Thank you Mr. Ant. You're the best!”

“Go have some fun, kid,” he said to her, waving her off. She bounced away, looking for an open game to play.

That was a problem. All the games were full with kids waiting in line to play. Especially the newer games, like what Nick was playing with the pretty graphics and full colors. Cammy sighed as she walked towards the back of the arcade, where some of the older games were. There were less kids back here, but there were still quite a few taking up most of the cabinets. She'd still have to wait until her turn to play.

One of the kids was playing at the Galaga cabinet with a few of his friends. It was Cammy’s friend from school; a pudgy redhead kid named Billy Brown. Billy had just died in Galaga and was putting in his initials when he suddenly let out an angry yell.

“NQC beat my high score!!”

His friends gasped at the scoreboard. Cammy glanced at the screen to see Billy's initials, "BMB" had dropped to second place. At the first place position were the initials “NQC”. Cammy remembered hearing about Billy playing for almost ten hours straight to beat the previous high score that was previously held by NQC. Just a few days ago, he finally did it and claimed his title of number one high score on Galaga. But looking at the scoreboard, NQC had beaten that record by almost two thousand points.

The mysterious NQC held the number one record on every single cabinet in Ant's Arcade. He or she was an urban legend among the regulars at the arcade. No one ever saw them in action. No one, at least from Cammy's school, had the initials of NQC. Even skilled players couldn't come close to the same scores as NQC. Billy was one of the few who had accomplished it, and he only held it for maybe 72 hours.

“When I find NQC, I'm gonna give them a piece of my mind!” He shouted, “I can't believe they beat my high score already!!”

“I guess they're just that good,” one of his friends said, in awe at the score.

Cammy walked away from the group of boys to the very back of the arcade. Even though she was friends with Billy, she didn’t want to interrupt his game. Instead, she walked further back by the bathrooms in the corner, where one of the lights was out, leaving the corner dark. There, partially obscured by the shadows was a free cabinet. No one was playing it. Cammy approached it, looking up at the marquee. The bright red light glared down at her, illuminating the title of the game.

DR. MALICE

She had seen this game in passing when she had come to the arcade, but she never played it. Mainly because her mom told her to never play scary or violent games. And with the blood red marquee and dark cabinet design, it certainly looked like both of those.

But she just had her thirteenth birthday last month. She was a big girl. She had watched Children of the Corn with her big brother and only had nightmares for a week. She could handle anything!

The screen displayed the company name and title in fancy pixelated graphics. An animated sprite of a doctor ran across the bottom of the screen, chasing little green aliens. The screen read:

COYOPP INDUSTRIES INC.

PRESENTS

DR. MALICE

INSERT 1 COIN TO PLAY.

Cammy approached the cabinet. It was quite the intimidating machine; nearly twice her size and certainly thrice her weight. The bright red accents on the dark indigo finish seemed to glow with an almost alien-like power. She noticed there was a severe imperfection on the right side of the machine. The top part of the cabinet’s side was broken, slightly exposing the inside. It drew her curiosity even more, since she had never seen the inside of an arcade machine. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a quarter, pushing it into the coin slot. She placed her hands on the joystick and buttons, feeling an odd static shock as she did. She blamed it on her shoes building up static electricity from running across the carpet.

The game took a few seconds to load up, before it came up with a new screen that read:

LEVEL ONE:

DESTROY ALL ALIENS.

Her character was loaded into what looked like a laboratory. The graphics reminded her a bit of Street Fighter, one she had seen her brother play with his friends, but wasn't allowed to play because it was “too violent”. It also reminded her of Legend of Zelda, a game she would play on her brother's NES behind his back. She moved the character between several maze-like screens. One button threw a syringe, the other was a dodge button. The remaining two buttons seemed non-functional. It was easy to get the hang of.

As she entered a new room, a green alien was in the middle of the space. It turned and started charging. Quickly, Cammy disposed of the alien by throwing the syringe. It promptly exploded into rainbow colors, which she found rather charming. As she moved through the rooms, she cleared out a few more aliens and completed the level.

CONGRATULATIONS! YOU BEAT:

LEVEL 1.

As the next level loaded up, a little cut scene began to play. It was the doctor character approaching a table with an apple sitting on it. The doctor took the apple and ate it. As he did, text popped up below the scene.

WHAT HAPPENS WHEN A DOCTOR EATS AN APPLE?

Cammy raised an eyebrow at the odd question. Just as she was about to question it more, the doctor on the screen exploded into rainbow colors. The text changed to an awkward delivery of a joke.

HE'D PROBABLY EXPLODE OR SOMETHING. APPLES KEEP DOCTORS AWAY AFTER ALL.

Cammy found herself giggling at the dry humor. Yeah, it was kind of stupid, but she found it charming. It was just her kind of humor.

Once the cut scene completed, level two loaded up. It was more of the same with slightly more challenging enemy patterns. This level introduced a small puzzle section. It was a block pushing puzzle, something Cammy was very good at. Since it was still an early level, she had no problem navigating the blocks and getting her character through the room. Once she destroyed the last alien, the game congratulated her again and loaded up another cutscene similar to the first. This time, it featured two aliens in the middle of a conversation.

WHAT DID ONE ALIEN SAY TO THE OTHER?

I HAVE NO IDEA. I DON'T SPEAK ALIEN.

The stupid joke had Cammy laughing out loud. She was ashamed to say she found these silly jokes funny, but she couldn't help it. She didn't think such a scary looking game would have such a great sense of humor.

She ended up playing through quite a few levels, each one getting progressively more difficult, but always rewarding her with a cute cut scene joke. It was challenging. She lost a couple of lives, but she was rising through the levels quickly. In fact, a few of the other children had taken notice and were watching her play, cheering her on. Wanting to seem cool to everyone, she put in her best effort and began to show off.

“She's a natural!”

“How did she get so far in that game? I only got to level five!”

“Woah, you go Cammy!”

Cammy was smiling as she played. Everyone in the arcade was impressed with her skills. She knew she could conquer this game with no problem. Just as she was about to take out an entire room of aliens, a voice from across the room yelled at her.

“Why's everyone watching this dork play?”

Cammy was suddenly pushed from the cabinet by a pair of strong hands. She nearly fell on the floor, but managed to catch her balance before tumbling over. She looked up and saw her brother now standing at the cabinet. She watched in horror as her character was swarmed by aliens and she lost her last life, all thanks to her brother screwing her up.

GAME OVER.

Everyone was actually on her side and booed and hissed at Nick for ruining the game. Nick, being the jackass he was, didn't care.

“You guys really watching a girl play this stupid game?” he asked, “Betcha I can get to level thirteen on one quarter, no problem!”

Nick gloated more before he popped in a quarter, one of Cammy's quarters no less, and started a new game. The level loaded up again, putting Nick in a room with an alien. Not expecting to immediately face an enemy, Nick’s character was attacked and lost his first life. The kids started to laugh.

“Uh, uh, I'm just getting started,” he said nervously.

Cammy was entertained by the comedic timing of his death. Though in the back of her mind, she could have sworn there wasn't an enemy when she loaded up the first level.

Nick tried again, killing the first alien. He moved to the next room and was bombarded with three aliens. He managed to take out two before the last one got his character. He was already on his last life. The audience of children were snickering at his failure to even get halfway into the first level.

“I'm just getting started! Cammy had beginner's luck!” he insisted.

Once again, he loaded up the first level, killed the first alien, then moved into the next room to kill the three aliens. He moved into an empty room. Nick chuckled to himself as he moved the character through. But once the doctor reached the middle of the room, a hole opened up under him, and he disappeared.

YOU HAVE FALLEN INTO A PITFALL.

Nick was flabbergasted. The other kids continued to laugh at Nick's failed attempt to outdo his little sister. Cammy raised an eyebrow. Now that definitely hadn't been there when she played.

GAME OVER.

Underneath the game over was a sentence that almost seemed to be written in a snarky way.

YOU AREN'T THE SHARPEST KNIFE IN THE DRAWER.

ARE YOU?

The laughter of the other children turned even louder at reading this. Nick's face turned red with a combination of embarrassment and rage.

“Did this piece of garbage just call me stupid?!” He demanded, backing away from the machine.

Cammy snickered under her breath, “Well, it confirmed what we already knew.”

The other children cackled at her snarky remark. Nick clenched his fists, glaring at Cammy before he turned back to the machine. He went around to the side of it, where the top part of the machine was partially broken. Breathing in heavy breaths, Nick shouted.

“YOU'RE THE STUPID PIECE OF SHIT!”

He drew back his leg and kicked the side of the machine hard enough to cause it to wobble. The already broken side of the machine came loose, falling out and right on to Nick. The sharp side cut his face, causing him to pull back and cover his face in shock and pain. He shouted expletives as he tried to get his face to stop bleeding.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON BACK HERE?!”

The other children, hearing the voice of an angry adult, scattered like flies, leaving Cammy and Nick alone by Dr. Malice. Mr. Ant stomped towards them, his face contorted into a scowl. He saw the broken arcade cabinet and the cut on Nick's face and immediately made the connection.

“What do you think you're doing, punk?! Tearing up my machines?! Those cost money, y'know!” Mr. Ant scolded the boy, “You gonna pay for the damages you caused? Cause I sure don't want to have to call your parents and tell them you broke one of my cabinets!”

Nick said nothing, just held his face and glared at Mr. Ant.

Mr. Ant stepped closer, speaking in a threatening voice, “What do you have to say for yourself, son?”

Nick looked down, clenching his teeth and his fists. He managed to croak out a very weak “Sorry.”

Mr. Ant sneered, “Get out of my arcade before I call the cops. Punks like you aren't welcome.”

Nick looked like he wanted to argue, but being face to face with the much larger, much scarier Mr. Ant left him speechless. He quickly darted away, holding his head down so none of the other kids would see him. The bell on the door tingled as he left.

Mr. Ant heaved a tired sigh. He turned back to Cammy, who still appeared shaken by the whole thing, “You alright, kid?”

Cammy nodded slowly, “Yeah, I'm okay, thank you.”

Mr. Ant went to pick up the side of the cabinet and try to put it back on the machine again, “Can't believe you two have the same parents. Ain't no way that little brat is related to you.”

Cammy shrugged, “I'm sorry about him.”

“Ah, don't apologize on his behalf. You're a good kid. You shouldn't have to put up with the likes of him.”

Mr. Ant was trying to put the side of the cabinet back into place, but the harsh kick from Nick had dented it in a way that it wouldn't fit properly. He swore under his breath. Cammy picked up on this and approached him.

“Are you okay, Mr. Ant?”

Mr. Ant looked down at her, his face contorted in frustration, “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, yeah I'm alright. It's just this cabinet belonged to a very close friend of mine. It's one of the few things I have to remember him by.”

“So my brother kicking it was like an extra kick in the gut to you, huh?”

“You could say that, yeah.”

Mr. Ant reached into his pocket and produced a roll of duct tape. He looked at Cammy, “Hey, you mind taping this for me while I hold it in place?”

Cammy nodded as she grabbed the tape from Mr. Ant. She carefully taped the broken side to the front and back of the cabinet, being careful not to wrinkle the tape. As she helped Mr. Ant, she managed to get a good view of the inside of the cabinet. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before; a tangle of wires and circuit boards connecting into a large CRT screen. It was very alien and almost a bit unsettling to see what went on behind the scenes of the games. Dust was kicked up from the inside, causing her and Mr. Ant to sneeze. It was almost like no one had touched the inside in over a decade, not even to repair it. Once she was done, Mr. Ant let go and the side stayed in place. It wasn't pretty with the damages on the top, the dent in the side, and now the ugly duct tape holding it together, but it was better than the entire inside of the cabinet being exposed for children to mess with.

“It'll have to do until I can call a maintenance man,” Mr. Ant said, “Thanks for your help, Cammy.”

Cammy smiled back, “You're welcome, Mr. Ant.”

Despite all the damages done to the cabinet, the game itself still seemed to be in working order. Mr. Ant decided to stick an “OUT OF ORDER” sign on the controls anyways, likely to prevent other kids from damaging it further. Cammy was disappointed she couldn't try the game again, but she understood.

“Listen, for all your help, I'll give ya a few more quarters to play,” Mr. Ant said, handing her another handful of quarters, “I'll make sure your brother stays out of trouble until it's time for you to go home. Now go have some fun.”

Mr. Ant waddled away, his cargo shorts jingling with quarters, leaving Cammy alone with the game. As she stared at the imposing cabinet, she couldn't help but ponder over what had just happened. How had the difficulty suddenly spiked when her brother played it? Where did all the extra enemies and traps come from that she never ran into? Did the game somehow... Change itself for her brother? Could games even do that? Surely they couldn't...

Cammy stared at the screen. The demo of the game played quietly.

...

What the...

Maybe she was going crazy, but for a split second, Cammy thought she saw the demo glitch into something else for a moment: a screen full of glitches that seemed to be forming some kind of pattern. Two black voids empty of any data seemed to stare back at her, full of some sort of malicious feeling. But just as quickly as she saw it, it was gone again. It left her feeling uneasy and nauseous, like someone was angry. Maybe not at her...

But at someone who had done wrong.

Feeling anxious, Cammy turned her back on the machine and quickly went to the other side of the arcade, far out of view of the Dr. Malice cabinet. Maybe she was just being paranoid, but she suddenly felt as if someone was watching her every move. She decided to distract herself by playing some of the two player racing games with the other kids at the arcade, which was lots of fun. She quickly forgot about the incident with the Dr. Malice cabinet and focused on enjoying herself.

Midnight rolled around at Ant's Arcade. Mr. Ant slowly ushered the kids to the front door as he started closing down the arcade, bidding them a goodnight and a safe drive home. Cammy was one of those kids. As she walked out the door with the other kids, she saw that her brother's red Honda Civic was gone from the parking lot. She gave a frustrated sigh. She'd have to see if Mr. Ant would let her use the phone so she could call her mom to come pick her up.

Just then, a pudgy ginger boy squeezed between other kids leaving the arcade. Billy Brown ran up next to Cammy, looking out of breath. He waved at Cammy excitedly.

“Are you walking home?” He asked, “I can walk with you!”

Cammy agreed, as she knew it would be safer to walk with someone rather than alone. She said goodbye to Mr. Ant and strolled down the street with Billy. Other kids were walking back to their homes, but since Cammy and Billy lived on the outskirts, they had to walk further than everyone else. Eventually, they were the only ones on the street. The orange lamps lit the dark suburban streets, bathing everything in a warm, industrial glow. Billy was a very talkative kid. He talked about movies, games, and how he was going to practice even harder to defeat the mysterious NQC.

“Who do you think NQC is, Cammy?” he asked.

Cammy shrugged, “Your guess is as good as mine. But I'm sure they're one of the best players in the entire city. Maybe even the entire state.”

They walked in silence only for a little while before Billy spoke up again.

“I saw what your brother did to that machine,” he said solemnly, “What a jerk. And he left you here? Total dweeb. Him and Dexter and all their friends are a bunch of dweebs.”

Cammy chuckled, “Yeah, they are. I wish Nick never met Dexter, but I can't really stop them from being friends.”

“Dexter's the biggest jerk. I wish I was bigger and stronger, and then I can beat him up myself!”

They walked along. The only sound in the night was the occasional car passing by. They came across two lone vending machines, the low hum of their light breaking through the quiet night.

“Hold on, I wanna buy a candy bar.” Billy said, approaching the machines. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a dollar, putting it into the machine. The machine rejected the dollar at first, spitting it back out.

“Rats.” Billy said as he put the dollar back in. It once again spit the dollar back out, making him sigh, “These things never take my dollars!”

With a little more patience, Billy managed to get the machine to accept the dollar. With it, he punched in the numbers for a candy bar. As the machine began to eject the snack, there was a sudden surge of light before everything on the street turned pitch black. Billy screamed in fright while Cammy jumped back, startled at the sudden darkness around them. Just as quickly as the power went out, it came back on. Billy was holding on to the vending machine, looking terrified out of his mind. He locked eyes with Cammy and chuckled nervously.

“I uh... That wasn't me who screamed like a little girl!” he assured her as he tried to look strong by puffing out his chest.

Cammy looked around, her nerves a bit frayed, “More power surges. There’s been a lot lately.”

Billy distracted himself by grabbing the snack out of the machine. He looked out in the distance over the hills and fields to a well lit collection of buildings. Tall smokestacks rose into the air, spitting out smoke into the otherwise clear night sky. The harsh lights made the industrial area intimidating and unwelcoming. On the side of the largest building was a sign with a company name, both in English and Japanese:

JOUZU APPLIANCES AND ELECTRONICS MANUFACTURING.

“My mom said it’s because of that factory they built last year.” Billy said, “She said something about they’re taking all our energy! I voted against it last year but they still built it! Or something like that. I don’t know. I stopped listening ‘cause she started ranting about the government.”

Cammy remembered her parents talking about a factory that was being built last year, and how so many residents of Midway Falls didn’t want it built here. But the government of the town went ahead and okayed the building anyway. It only started production a few months ago, but already it seemed to be causing problems. Most notably with the frequent surges that plagued the power grid. Lots of residents were getting angry. Some had even begun protesting outside the factory’s doors. But it was a fruitless effort. Cammy didn’t really understand why the adults were so riled up by it, but she agreed the surges were annoying and scary.

The two continued on at a faster rate this time, startled by the power surge. They reached the entrance of their neighborhood, where only the low hum of the street lamps cut through the dead silence of the night.

Cammy looked up, checking over her shoulder.

“What's wrong?” Billy asked, already digging into his candy bar.

“Did you hear that?”

“No. What is it?”

“It sounded like... Something heavy. Like it was being moved across the pavement.”

“I didn't hear anything.”

Cammy paused, trying to listen over the buzz of the street lamps. She didn't hear the noise again. Perhaps she was just imagining things.

“Sorry, I think the power surge freaked me out a little bit,” She said, continuing to walk.

“That's okay,” Billy replied with a chocolate covered smile, “I can take out anyone who tries to mess with us. I promise!”

They had finally reached Cammy's house at the end of the street. Billy finished off his candy bar and waved goodbye to her. The front porch was decorated with flowers and old rusting iron chairs. As she approached the porch, she was about to knock on it. She was startled as the door swung open and her mother April stood there, her keys in hand and in her pajamas. She looked down at Cammy, her expression partially obscured by her glasses and messy brown hair.

“Camellia! My goodness there you are!” she cried, taking her in a tight hug, “How did you get home?!”

Cammy, startled by the affection, spoke into her mother's shoulder, “I walked home with Billy.”

“Oh thank goodness, I was just about to come get you!” April said, bringing her inside the home, “To say I was worried when Nicholas came home without you... Well, that would have been an understatement!”

As they entered the kitchen, Cammy saw Nick sitting at the dining table. He had a bandage on his face and seemed to be avoiding their gaze. He looked ashamed. The kitchen was filled with the scent of cigarette smoke, overpowering the nice flowers that sat on the counter.

“Mr. Anthony left me a message on the answering machine,” April said, her tone suddenly becoming serious as she turned towards Nick, “He told me everything Nicholas did at the arcade, including pushing his little sister and stealing her quarters. Not only that, but he came home smelling like cigarette smoke again!”

Nick didn't look at them.

“Nicolas Robert Karnell, you better apologize to your sister right this minute,” April demanded, her tone slipping into that threatening mother tone, the tone all moms used when they wanted you to know you had really screwed up.

Nick hesitated, refusing to look up from the floor. He finally spoke, sounding none too sincere, “Sorry Cammy.”

April didn't look particularly happy with his tone, but decided to turn away and speak with Cammy, “Camellia honey, will you please go to your room for the rest of the night? I need to speak with your brother alone.”

Cammy quickly left the kitchen, going upstairs to her room. For the rest of her night, she stayed upstairs. As she moved around from the bathroom to her bedroom, she could hear her mother yelling at Nick, asking things like what was wrong with him, why he thought that was okay, was he doing it to impress Dexter and his friends, so on and so forth. She barely heard a peep out of Nick during the scolding. Finally, once Cammy turned out her lights and got into bed, she heard the sound of Nick's footsteps stomping up the stairs and into his room across the hall. He slammed the door hard enough to shake the walls. There was no doubt about it, he was grounded for a good few weeks, maybe even a month or more.

Cammy breathed a sigh of relief. At least Nick got a comeuppance for his poor behavior tonight. She snuggled into her sheets and fell fast asleep.

That night, Nick struggled to fall asleep. The cut on his face made it difficult to lay on that side of his body, since the pillow was pressing into the wound. The harsh scolding he had received from his mother also wasn't helping. He sighed as he stared up at the ceiling. He sat up and checked the clock on his night stand.

1:35 AM

Nick swore under his breath as he tried yet again to lay on his side. The cut hurt too much to put pressure on, so he returned to laying on his back. He closed his eyes and started to drift off.

Sniff sniff...

What was that weird smell?

Nick sat up again. His room was empty. He checked the clock on his nightstand again.

2:11 AM

Nick laid back down again. He swore he smelled something. Like... Something mechanical and coppery. Kind of like the smell of change. He felt... Oddly paranoid. He couldn't place why, but he was finding it impossible to go to sleep. Maybe it was all the yelling he had endured from his mother. Maybe he was feeling... Guilty.

Nick closed his eyes again. When he opened them, he was laying on his side facing the clock. Through his grogginess, he saw something... Odd.

: AM

Maybe another power surge had happened during the night while he dozed off and reset his clock. He didn't worry too much about it and dozed off again. He woke up again, feeling... Uncomfortable. He checked the clock again, and found a rather unsettling sight.

8:88 AM

Was the clock broken? That definitely wasn't right. As he sat up to reach for it, he froze. In the corner of his eye was something at the foot of his bed. Something... Tall. Solid. Unmoving. Nick turned, slowly, terrified at the prospect of someone invading his room. He faced the intruder head on.

It was an arcade machine, turned off, completely dead.

To say it startled him would have been an understatement, but he quickly started to laugh it off.

“Okay, you guys got me. That's really funny,” he said with a weak laugh, “You can come out now Cammy, I know this was a prank.”

As he stared at the machine, common sense got the better of him. How in the world would his petite sister get this giant thing into his room? Much less up the stairs and through the doorway?

How did this thing get into his room at this hour of the night?

Just then, Nick jumped as the marquee of the machine suddenly flipped on. He was bathed in a bright red light, illuminating his entire room. He looked down on the floor where a power cord from the machine was sitting.

Completely unplugged.

Nick dared to look up at the marquee. In stark red pixelated letters read the title.

DR. MALICE

A noise started to reverberate from the machine. A deep, synthy bass noise that rose and fell, almost like the breathing of a human.

“What... The... Hell…” Nick breathed, his voice catching in his throat.

Another noise came from the machine. This time, it was a voice, deeply compressed and bit-crushed. It spoke quietly, but just loud enough for Nick to hear it. It chilled him to the core.

“You… You think you're above the consequences?”

Nick started to say something, but felt as if his voice had been snatched from him. It was as if his throat was full of electrified needles, preventing him from speaking. His whole body became numb, like he had lost control of everything.

A deep, almost sadistic chuckle came from the machine, “Oh, you're gonna shut up and listen to me, boy. You've had too much time to talk. But I know just what you'd say anyways.”

The screen on the arcade machine flared to life, filled with strange, glitchy patterns. The glitches seemed to form two black holes on the screen, shaped like gouged out human eye sockets. They stared directly into Nick, seeing into the deepest recesses of his soul.

“I know your kind, Nicholas Karnell. I know what you're all about. I've seen your memories. I've seen the horrible things you've done, just to fit in. All the people you've hurt... Just to feel like you're somebody. Heh. Your kind never changes. Even after so many years.”

Nick's heart raced, thumping in his chest so loud, he could hear it in his ears. His body was soaked with sweat as he faced what he assumed was Satan himself in the form of an arcade cabinet. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to beg for forgiveness for kicking the machine. He wanted to fall at Cammy's feet and apologize for everything he had done to her. He wanted to change his ways right then and there.

But because his voice was gone, he was helpless to do anything.

The machine spoke again, the eyes on the screen narrowing into enraged slits, “You only wish to hurt the little guy. People like your sister, the so-called nerds... People... Like... Me.”

The screen turned off, but the marquee continued to glow. Another bit-crushed evil chuckle sounded from the machine. Something started to glow in the corner of the screen.

No...

Something was coming out of the screen.

A hand, a vaguely human hand, grabbed onto the edge of the controls, pulling itself forward and out, revealing an arm wearing some kind of surgical glove and white sleeve. Another hand came out of the opposite side of the screen, similar to the first. Both hands grabbed the edge of the controls and pulled with it a head full of dark, messy hair, shoulders wearing a white coat, and a chest... A chest with three distinct black spots, coated in red pixelated words that read “ERROR”. It was a man... But it was definitely not fully human. The form glitched and crackled with electricity, smelling like an electrical fire combined with the coppery scent of quarters. The voice spoke again.

“Well... Nicholas…”

The head of the... Man? Whatever it was looked up at Nick, its eyes obscured by a pair of thick glasses. It had no mouth. Only a nose and potentially eyes hiding behind the spectacles.

Wait... It did have a mouth.

No...

Where the mouth should have been was the start of a split that circled around the entire head. It was full of nothing but garbled, corrupted coding and glitches. The split opened wider, seeming to form into some kind of twisted and demented smile. The voice spoke, relishing in his fear.

“Who's the little guy now?”

The "mouth" opened wider, exposing more of the nightmarish nonsense inside as the figure grabbed Nick by the ankles. A jolt of electricity shot through his body, paralyzing him from head to toe as the monster from the cabinet slowly dragged him towards the machine. Adrenaline shot through Nick as he managed to flip over on his stomach and grab the foot of his bed, holding on for dear life. He tried to scream for Cammy, his mother, anybody, but his throat was filled with even more electrifying pins and needles than before. A sharp pain shot through Nick's side, causing him to let go of the bed frame. He was dragged into the screen of the arcade machine by the terrifying creature, disappearing from sight.

Silence. The machine sat still for a moment. The marquee slowly powered down, leaving the room in complete darkness. As silently as it had appeared, it was gone, leaving no trace of itself or the young boy it had just taken.

The clock on the nightstand read:

3:59 AM

#dr. malice #malice sneak peak #dr. malice official #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #80s #arcadecore #original writing #aspiring writer #aspiring author #scifi novel #sci fi #1980s

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best-underrated-anime · 7 months

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Best Underrated Anime Group I Round 1: #I2 vs #I7

#I2: Three girls start a fun club and get into shit

During recess, Olivia, a foreign transfer student who doesn’t know English, plays a game of “look-the-other-way” with Hanako Honda, a loudmouthed airhead. Their rowdy behavior spurs the ire of Kasumi Nomura, a deadpan loner constantly teased by her older sister for her tendency to lose games.

Not willing to compete, Kasumi declines Olivia’s offer to join the fun, but eventually gets involved anyway and dispenses her own brand of mischief. Soon, a strange friendship blossoms between the peculiar trio, and they decide to form the “Pastime Club,” where they are free to resume their daily hijinks.

#I7: Older brother plays catch-up with his younger sibling

On a fateful summer night in 2006, Mutta Nanba and his younger brother Hibito witness what they believe to be a UFO flying toward the Moon. This impressing and unusual phenomenon leads both siblings vowing to become astronauts, with Hibito aiming for the Moon and Mutta, convinced that the eldest brother has to be one step ahead, for Mars.

Now an adult, life hasn't turned out how Mutta had pictured it: he is diligently working in an automotive company, whereas Hibito is on his way to be the very first Japanese man to step on the Moon. However, after losing his job, Mutta is presented with an unexpected opportunity to catch up to his younger brother when the Japanese Aerospace Exploration Agency, commonly known as JAXA, accepts his application to participate in the next astronaut selection. Despite self-doubts about his prospects, Mutta is unwilling to waste this chance of a lifetime, and thus embarks on an ambitious journey to fulfill the promise made 19 years ago.

Titles, propagandas, trailers, and poll under the cut!

#I2: Asobi Asobase - workshop of fun -

youtube

Propaganda:

It’s really funny and hilarious and kind of hard to pin down the demographic and who they were trying to get to watch the show because the girls uniforms are ugly, they make ugly faces and funny noises, and one of the main characters has a strong fear/disgust of men. I live and then I had a really fun time watching it because it’s so out of pocket with the stuff they do.

Trigger Warnings: Gender Identity/Sexuality Discrimination.

One character is implied to be a trans girl and is called out for it by the main characters in a way that suggests they are uncomfortable with it. Her boyfriend is okay with it, though.

#I7: Space Brothers (Uchuu Kyoudai)

youtube

Propaganda:

Have you ever wanted to see adults pursue their dreams in anime, even those they abandoned along the way? Do you enjoy space or the arduous process to become an astronaut? Do you like characters being so well-rounded while still being positive even if they fail? Well, this series is exactly that, but with a touch more wholesomeness. Ranging from comedic moments to heartfelt revelations, this series feels so grounded in reality while still having that air of positivity around it, it just motivates you to follow any dream you might currently have. It is a long journey, almost 100 episodes, but it uses it well to flesh out not only the main pair, but many of the side characters, each coming from different backgrounds. A very character driven story that sometimes doesn’t shy in mentioning the risks of space exploration, but also presents us with the marvel and importance of it.

Trigger Warnings: Discussion of possible death. It’s not in depth, but there were moments where they did discuss the possibility of death since it has a high risk of happening in space.

If you’re reblogging and adding your own propaganda, please tag me @best-underrated-anime so that I’ll be sure to see it.

#anime #best underrated anime #polls #poll tournament #tournament #anime tournament #animation #animated show #group stage #group stage round 1 #tournament polls #group i #asobi asobase #workshop of fun #asobi asobase - workshop of fun -#space brothers #uchuu kyoudai

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ohshy · 10 months

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more punch out headcanons

- I imagine every circuit has a person who tries to be friends or atleast on good terms w/ everyone. For the minor circuit it's Disco Kid, for the major circuit it's Bear Hugger, and for the world circuit it's Soda Popinski.

- Disco kid's very good at figure skating. He’s currently teaching SMM how to do it, with mixed results. Macho, like Doc has commented, can spin very well, but his landings leave a lot to be desired. Macho freaks out every time he does, afraid he'll ruin his pearly whites.

- So-called free thinkers (Glass Joe) when la Marseille starts playing

- SMM was born into a rich family. As a kid, he was able to practice any hobby he wanted to. Boxing was one he happened to have the most talent for. Like Macho Man, Disco Kid comes from riches as well. Unlike Macho man, however, Disco is as nice as can be, but doesn't take boxing as seriously.

- King hippo being 6 plus foot atleast + big n muscular as hell + resting bitch face + deep voice = accidentally intimidates people all the time. The funny thing is, however, he's actually the runt of his family. His ma n pop are 7 foot and 7'5 foot respectively

- The reason poor Von Kaiser is as traumatized as he is, is due to severe bullying at school because of his tics. that’s what happened in the slideshow; his trauma triggered from kids laughing at him.

- Von Kaiser 🤝 Piston Hondo being bullied as kids over their tics

- King Hippo? More like King AUTISM

- Bear Hugger knows a lot about survival in the wild, and loves camping out. Once, he invited the whole WVBA on a big camping trip. Big mistake, several people (namely SMM, Aran Ryan and Don Flamenco) littered, used a ton of ozone unfriendly sprays to get rid of bugs and were either disgusted by (SMM and Don flamenco) or pestering (Aran Ryan) the animals. As a result of this fiasco, he only invites trusted people on his camping trips anymore.

- Piston Honda's dad is a poet, and taught his son all about all kinds of japanese proverbs, which is why Honda's always reciting them during intermissions.

- SMM’s crowd, when they’re not booing him or throwing produce at him, sometimes sing the song ‘’Macho Man’’ by the Village People at him. Why? Because it's funny and they're doing it ironically. SMM is completely unaware of this though; he thinks they're admiring him.

- SMM often hosts ''Best Circuit'' parties for the world circuit. Bald Bull and Mr. Sandman will stand in the corner awkwardly watching the others dance, while Aran and Soda absolutely KILL it on the dance floor. Aran will also often embarrass Macho in front of ladies he's trying to flirt with.

#punch out #disco kid #super macho man #von kaiser #king hippo #bear hugger #piston hondo #piston honda #aran ryan #soda popinski #bald bull #mr. sandman #since u guys enjoyed my other ones sm heres some more thoughts i have #i just rly love these funky little boxers :D

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phantasmal-sunshowers · 2 years

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A fic idea that popped into my mind as I went back to rewatch what was still available of season 0. Doesn’t matter the season, Yugi is just so gosh darn precious…!

As someone who likes fluff, I realized that I don’t normally write openly optimistic/encouraging fics like this one, so it was an experience. I had to end it on that line, no matter how cheesy (๑≧艸≦) I can’t read it without hearing the m-m-m-m-meme-d version of it—

As the rays of the afternoon sun flooded through the classroom windows, steadying my hands, I carefully placed down the angled cards. While my designated seat was at the opposite end, the degree of warmth that submerged the near lifeless room gradually increased as time ticked on.

I had long forgotten the rocky start I had at the beginning of the semester. And gradually, I had came to cherish the irreplaceable friends and memories I made at school. Everyday, no matter how small or mundane, I would look forward to the time I could spend with my friends. During our breaks, we’d gather together. We would play some games, chat, and there would almost always be laughter. Similarly, when school was out for the day, we’d spend a little time hanging out before heading home for the night.

‘And this afternoon will be fun, too!’ … … Is what I would like to say.

I took another pair of playing cards; a soft tap sounded as I levelled them on my desk. And as I delicately placed the arched stock paper, I recalled how this situation came to be.

Anzu, in preparation for an upcoming evaluation in her dance lessons, had been leaving as soon as the last bell of the day sounded so she could get in as much practice as she could. Miho, being Anzu’s closest friend, would leave with her to support and cheer her on. Honda, taking pride in being a part of the school’s custodian body, had his share of responsibilities around the school to see to. And last, but definitely not least, was Jonouchi. When no one else was free, we’d spend the afternoon with whatever caught our interests that day. Tabletop games, manga, the arcades— we went along with wherever our whims took us. But today, having owned Honda a favour, he had been pulled aside to help with the routine duties.

While I said I’d wait for Jonouchi until he finished what was asked of him, it would have been a lie if I didn’t say I was a little lonely. I thought I had forgotten this feeling— the loneliness I used to have…

To distract myself, I busied myself by building a house of cards, hiding away in its shade as it grew higher and higher. By now, although still in arm's reach, the top of the tower was above head height. Standing, I continued working on the construct.

It was strange, though. It was hard to put into words and describe the feeling, but even when I was alone, there were times when I felt like I wasn’t.

“Ah!!” Too focused on the moment, by the time I realized what was about to happen and had grasped the pendant in my hands, it was too late. With the gentle fluttering of the cards, in a flash, I watched as the tall pyramid came crashing down. Its contents dispersed on and around my desk. “... Aw, man…”

I looked down at the ‘culprit’ cupped in the palms of my hands. A dazzling gleam radiated from the golden puzzle basked in the light, a hint of a reflection looking back at me. Unable to find it within me to be frustrated or disappointed, I could feel a small smile spread on my lips. Wasting no time, I started to play a quick round of 52-pickup.

“Here.”

I followed the upbeat voice, finding your gentle expression standing at the end of it. “T-thanks! Uhm…” As I took the stray card you picked up, my voice trailed off as I realized I couldn't put a name to your face.

“[L/n], [F/n] from class A, but just call me [F/n]. And what’s yours?”

“I’m Yugi! It’s nice to meet you!”

“Hey, Yugi-kun,” A playful tone sounded as you crouched down to meet me. “That was an amazing castle. Would it be okay if you let me help you rebuild it?”

“Sure!” Swallowing my hesitation, I quickly mustered all the courage I had, “A–and if you’re interested, I also have other games we could play!”

“You do?” There was an kind sparkle to your eyes as you agreed, “Sure! Sounds like fun!”

Maybe days like this won’t be so lonely after all…

This afternoon, too…

I got to play games with Yugi again.

“Ah–” The gears clicked in place as you realized your mistake.

Things were already too late as you watched Yugi flip the one and final card he had needed to win the game, turning your previous play against you. “And that's my win!”

You gave a defeated sigh in response to his chipper declaration, “And that's my loss…” But the weary facade didn't last, dissipating just as quick as when you recognized your previous mistake. Perhaps seeing that you finally grasped a solid understanding of the fundamentals, Yugi wanted to test you and didn't let his winning chance slip by. Throughout the game, on countless occasions, the match could have prematurely ended if it weren't for him generously letting you undo some of your mistakes. You wouldn't have gotten this far otherwise. “You’re really amazing, Yugi-kun. It’s your first day playing and you’re already able to explain everything so clearly.” Giving a stretch, you shrugged it off, an airy comment slipping from you as you started to regather all your cards. “Not that I expected I could win against you on my first try. I’ve learned that much when we first met.”

“...” Eyes casted downwards, Yugi fell silent at your words as a thought flashed through him. “Sorry…”

“Hm?” But your spirited hum came to a halt as you noticed his quiet introspection, “No need to be.”

“... It doesn’t matter what game, whenever we play together, I’m always the one winning.” The air was stiff as he solemnly admitted, “It must not be fun to play with me…”

By now, you felt like you had a well-founded idea of what type of person Yugi was and that he wasn’t someone who’d act without reason. Putting together what you knew of him in tandem with your previous utterance, something must have happened between the last time the two of you hung out. That ‘something’ must have had to do with his peerless understanding and success with any game he encounters.

With your share of cards now in your hands, you squared off your deck. The audible clack from them took Yugi’s gaze off his lap. “I don’t think so.”

“Huh?”

“Starting something new doesn't mean I'll always do well. And just because I lost or that something is difficult doesn't mean I can't still enjoy it.” Placing your deck of spiralled-back trading cards on Yugi’s side of the field, you continued your train of thought, “Win or lose, first time or not— whenever we play together, we get to spend time together and I get to learn something new. I think that’s already exciting in itself. It might not be in Duel Monsters, but I'll steal a win from you someday— Just you wait!”

Dumbfounded at your straight forward, good faith, as much as he tried to hide it, you could see that Yugi always wore his heart on his sleeves. This time was no different as his astonishment was replaced with a sheepish and heartfelt smile.

“Now, come on!” You urged him along. “I’m waiting for you so I can shuffle your cards. I think I’ve got the hang of things and I’m not done trying to win yet. Or is it that you would like me to pick your cards for you, too?”

“Ah! N-no…! I— Um…!!” Snapping back to his senses, you watched as he scrambled to compile his cards. Lining up his deck, he gave a bashful glance and chuckle as he traded off his cards to you, “Heh… Thanks, [F/n].”

With his spirits lifted, you give him a giggle of your own, “Don’t mention it.”

“Alright,” After a thorough shuffle, sliding the deck back to their original player, the two of you exchanged a nod and a look of understanding as you both declared the start of the new round:

“It’s time to duel!”

#yugi x reader #yugi muto x reader #yugi mutou x reader #yugi mutoh x reader #yugioh x reader #YGO x reader #x reader #Yugi #Yugi Muto

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byneddiedingo · 2 years

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Wendy and Lucy (Kelly Reichardt, 2008) Cast: Michelle Williams, Wally Dalton, Will Patton, John Robinson, Ayanna Berkshire, Larry Fessenden. Screenplay: Jonathan Raymond, Kelly Reichardt, based on a story by Jonathan Raymond. Cinematography: Sam Levy. Production design: Ryan Warren Smith. Film editing: Kelly Reichardt. Music: Smokey Hormel, Will Oldham. "People who can't afford dog food shouldn't have dogs," says the store clerk who has just nabbed Wendy for shoplifting a can of dog food for Lucy, who is tied up outside the store. The clerk is an insufferable young ass, sucking up to his boss, who from the look on his face is somewhat inclined to let Wendy pay for the dog food and go. But under the assault of smarmy platitudes from the clerk, he calls the police instead. Hours later, Wendy is set free and returns to the store to find Lucy gone. And so the central plot of the film, which recalls the search for the stolen bike in Bicycle Thieves (Vittorio De Sica, 1948), is set in motion. But to go back to the store clerk's remark, it's worth considering at face value: Lucy is in fact a luxury for someone as impoverished as Wendy, whose devotion to the dog complicates an already desperate existence. Lucy is by no means as essential to Wendy's survival as the bicycle is to Antonio's in the De Sica classic. Wendy is a dreamer, who thinks that she'll find gainful work in Alaska, and has set out from Indiana in her aging Honda Accord, with only a few hundred dollars, some meager possessions, and her beloved Lucy. But when the Honda breaks down in Oregon (the city is unnamed but the film was made in Portland), achieving that dream becomes infinitely more difficult. At the end, Wendy has neither car nor dog, but she persists, hopping a freight that may take her to her dream destination -- or not. It's a fable of hope and folly that leaves us to ponder the unknown, which is this small film's great strength. Like Bicycle Thieves, it makes a social comment about the need for safety nets and about the Catch-22s that plague the lives of the poor. The security guard who befriends Wendy, an old man who works 8-to-8 standing outside a strip mall to keep people from sleeping in their cars in the parking lot, observes that you can't get a job without an address, and you can't get an address without a job that allows you to pay for an address. But mostly it's a story about how dreams keep people going while also forcing them to pay the price for dreaming and not succumbing to despair. Michelle Williams is, as always, a marvel, a chameleon actress who seemingly can play anything.

#Wendy and Lucy #Kelly Reichardt #Michelle Williams

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kisakunt · 3 years

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RINDOU HAITANI. — life, death, the in between

SFW, hurt to comfort (kinda?), sickening, bile producing fluff (imo), rindou isn’t a creature of love but looks like you can’t help that shit, it’s eh it’s rushed

rindou has never been particularly worried about dying. he clearly doesn’t want to (that would be less than ideal), but he’s never held himself back from doing something he deemed worthy over the idea, or very real possibility, of death. that’s often how he finds himself in situations like these; grin spreading cheek to cheek despite the protruding gash on his arm and bruises along his skin, fingers fidgeting under his gloves as his mind races about how to get what his goal was to begin with, and eyes stuck on the man in front of him.

he always looks forward. it’s what makes sense to him, he’s never understood the point of obsessing over every single detail of what did happen or what could happen.

dynamics with people have always seemed futile to him. he’s self assured, and if he was really in a situation where he needed ‘help’ he always had his brother alongside him when the going got tough. everything else was just a bore, a waste of time and energy in comparison to doing, really, whatever he wants. and he’s full aware there are repercussions to his actions— see the man he’s got locked between his arms right now, face turning blue at the chokehold he’s got him in— but he couldn’t be bothered to give a shit because if it was fun doing it, it was worth it.

he wasn’t mad when he met you, and he didn’t care when you kept repeating your presence in his life, because you didn’t matter. rindou didn’t love you— and he doesn’t still—, and he didn’t care for you or take your care for him, and you were just passing entertainment in his life, the same way everything else is.

you started to get under his skin, though, when he’d pick up your calls when he was about to go to sleep. you started to irritate him when he remembered some dumb shit you’d told him about your job. and he seethed when he bought you something instead of stealing it because it’s more ‘genuine’ that way.

you creeped your way into rindou’s agenda, and he’s grown to terms with the fact that that’s okay because you’re convenient. he realized he’d listened to you because in turn you’d do three times more for him, he stuck around you because you’d do anything for him and there’s no harm in having someone who will break at your every word for free, right?

today, when he calls you, you sound happy. and for a second, he wants to hang up. instead, he tells you if you’re busy to not be and that he’s on his way over. his gloves decorate the passenger seat of his worn honda he’s gotten so accustomed to having you in, and he sighs when he adjusts his rear view mirror to look at himself. he wonders if this is still fun, he picks at his brain to figure out what the fuck part of this is really fun for him, and he tries to rationalize it in some way.

he’s had a long day, he could use your gentle hands on his skin; his head hurts, you make the best cup of coffee he’s ever had; he’s fucking exhausted and your bed is just so much nicer than his. there’s a line between using someone and having to tell yourself you’re using someone that he blurs when he starts his engine.

his hands, now bare and brittled, grip at the steering wheel as he drives and he wills himself not to think about the trivial things. but he does. he wonders what you’re wearing right now— and a small bit of him is worried he’ll get blood on it—, and he thinks about what he’ll say to you when he sees you. he tests a phrase, or two, mutters them under his breath and changes the fluctuation as he repeats them over and over and he feels stupid.

rindou is above you. he’s above all of this, he knows that, he tells himself he’d have told you that if he felt it was necessary. his body knows it’s way to your place and he tucks that away behind the false security that that’s, once again, for his benefit. his body knows everything about you, and he tells himself that’s nothing but circumstantial up until the very point he arrives to your address.

your house is too big for something so small, like it could swallow him whole and turn him further into something he isn’t. because this isn’t him, this isn’t what he does, and he needs to get a grasp on himself before he forgets to all together.

he can tell just from the rear view mirror that he looks fucked up. there’s an inkling in the back of his mind that he shouldn’t go inside or even subject you to this at all, and there’s a smaller thought behind it wondering why he gives a shit how you feel. if he delves into it, though, if he opens up that flood gate, he has to admit he gives a shit to begin with.

his feet carry himself to you before he can make himself sick about it, he knocks on your door with the confidence and poise you took from him, he holds the blank face he’s rested with and let caress him his whole life.

“coming!” and he can hear it, the excitement in your voice, and every dumb quip he came up with in his car leaves him, and every reassurance that you mean nothing is just another white lie. and he does give a shit how you feel, as daunting as that is, and he should turn around and leave, but he doesn’t.

your door opens and the world fucking crashes. he’s selfish, but he’s aware of his pulse when he watches the grin leave your face. he’s heartless, but he’s itching to grab at you when you take a step back.

“you look like shit,” it’s funny how your voice sounds so hollow so quick, like you’re sick over him— or maybe you’re sick of him. he tells himself he doesn’t care about either.

“that’s funny, i was about to tell you the same.”

“what happened to you?” rindou finds it easier to translate the worry in your voice as condescending, and he pushes by you without a warning, without taking his shoes off, without giving you respect.

“oh, yknow, i tripped.” he doesn’t need to tell you about his life. he doesn’t even know why he’s here— you’re in front of him, you smell the way you always do, your house is the same clean-cluttered it always is, you’re wearing white like he was worried about, and he can’t remember the list of reasons he told himself he needed to come here for.

“haitani.” he hates that, he hates this, he thinks he might hate you.

rindou doesn’t care about love enough to know if he believes in it or not. his eyes scan at the way the poorly covered wound on his arm leaks, blood soaking up the cloth around it and dribbling down his skin. you repeat his name when he watches a drop of it fall onto your floor. rindou doesn’t care about love, or other people, or getting stuck in the possibilities of something. he doesn’t look at you, he doesn’t need to. he doesn’t need to be here, he never did, he thinks it’s a joke he was so worried to begin with. you say his name again, harsher.

“fucking christ. what?” he barely has the time to turn his body before he sees the tears in your eyes. his throat barely has the time to close before you slap him. it’s quiet after the initial noise and then you sniffle, and his chest tightens.

“fuck you.” and you cry. he stands there, and so do you, and the air feels like poison, and you cry. he doesn’t know how long you do, but it’s not like he knows much of anything anymore. his skin is on fire, the blood is pooling on your floor and he’s sure you’ll make him fix it even if you never speak to him again.

rindou knows you’re not stupid, and he knows he hasn’t hid his disgust towards the idea of care nearly enough. he knows you’ve picked up on it, that you’ve watched him with yearning eyes and probably looked at yourself with unforthcoming ones. he thinks you deserve something at least, so he stands with you, quiet and bleeding and dizzy and tired and straight-faced and worried.

“you don’t get to do this, rindou.” and for once, he wants to be better. as arbitrary as the concept ‘better’ is, as gray as the line of improvement shows itself in his mind, he wants to be better.

he doesn’t really know why. there’s not a rhyme or reason behind it, but it digs itself into his skin and rests among his bones and in his blood stream. it becomes a part of him, you become a part of him, until it finds its final resting place front and center in his brain.

and his head is pounding, but he thinks that’s just you. this kind of intimacy— this kind of love— is untapped to him, horrific and filthy and so dull, but he finally gets it. your fingers graze over the red of the slap you’d left on him, eyes attentive through the glare of your tears, and he really fucking gets it.

“i’m not sorry for slapping you.” your voice has that tinge it always does, the raw sense of self that’s always pissed him off a little bit, even garbled and wet and sticky and sad. “you need to—” you suck in a breath and rindou thinks it’s horrible he can tell exactly how you’re feeling just from the inhale. “you need to be more careful, asshole.” he almost considers it.

“it was just a stupid fight.” he sounds disinterested, he doesn’t know if he wants you to know better. “guy caught me off guard.” your fingers linger on his skin and it stings more than anything else has today. it aches harder when you pull away.

your eyes are glossed, shiny and on him and tired, too. “okay,” another pause, another silence he’s begging you to fill. “i don’t know what i’d do if you died.” he gets it, again (he’s apparently a man of revelations today), and he gets that you feel it, too.

“you’d probably still yell at me. never know how to shut up.” you breathe a laugh and he breathes in general, swallowing at the saliva that stuck to his lip under the tug of his teeth. you move and brush over the wound on his arm, staining yourself with his blood, stamping his hand with your fingerprints in return when you grab at it.

he’s sure you’ve got a joke about how you could become a seamstress finally with how much you’ve stitched him up with a cheap sewing kit lined up; he’s positive you’ll let your gaze memorize him like it does every time, like you’ll never see him again.

“let me clean you up.” and for once, when you walk away, he doesn’t tell himself this is why he ‘sticks around’. for once, when you walk to grab for your personalized ‘rindou-fied’ first aid kit you’ve put together for him, he doesn’t justify your company with it. for once, when you wipe at his skin with a rag you always get the perfect lukewarm temperature for him, he just lets himself enjoy you. because he really does.

@rindouphiliac the only other rindou lover i tolerate & rindou’s real s/o

#rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #rindou fluff #rindou haitani fluff #rindou angst #rindou imagine #rindou drabble #rindou scenarios #rindou x y/n #rindou x you #tokyo revengers rindou #rindou haitani x you #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers scenarios #not rly proofed ok i’ll kms #and it’s not long enough #feels rushed

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just-some-random-blogger · 3 years

Text

Professional Boundaries

Stray Kids CEO!Bang Chan x Preschool Teacher!Reader & CEO!Hwang Hyunjin x Preschool Teacher!Reader | Part 1 2 Summary: Working with children had always been your strong point, and having a job at a preschool truly was a dream come true, especially when you got to talk to certain parents. Word Count: 6k+ Warnings: Parent AU, CEO AU, fluff, angst, reader is Jisung’s brother so she is a Han okay, jealousy, slow burn, pining, lots of pining, etc.

A/N: uh i would like to dedicate this work to @mostlycompetentwriter because i loved so much her story Domesticated that I had to write a Bang Chan fic. Hi sweetie ya prolly don't care for this but i just wanted to mention you since I did get a lot of my creativity juices flowing cos of ur work 💖 also i raise you DAD!BANG CHAN HUHUHU

ALSO THIS CAME OUT TOO LONG HOASHJDOJASJDAJSO I DIDN’T EVEN DO WHAT I WANTED TO OH WELL HAHAHAHHA

"Appa," a small voice cooed from the back seat. The man the boy was addressing had too much of a soft voice to catch his attention. His father both had been frustrated with an interaction he had at work, and had road rage because of the idiot in the Honda in front of him.

The man in the suit let out a breath and muttered a curse word under his breath, so his son wouldn't hear. The illustrious Bang Chan snorted like a boar in anger and quickly swerved when he had a safe opening. He did not forget to honk at the moron and flash him an intense glare even though he probably wouldn't see.

"Appa~"

Chan began to think of that fly over plan he was offered to invest in. Seems pretty legit to him now.

The boy moans, "ahAhAh Appaaa!"

Chan finally hears and gives his son a quick glance in both the rear view mirror and over his shoulder, "ah, what, what, mate? Sorry, daddy was paying attention to the road."

Chan was able to see his son was still snug in his baby chair and he was probably getting a little fussy because he had been ignored.

"I wan a milk box."

Chan furrows his brows and recalls his mother bought banana milk for his son, "I think Granny already packed some for our cutie Dohyun."

"Nooo, I wan a green milk box!"

Chan knits his brows deeper, "a green milk box?"

Dohyun hums and nods firmly.

"What kind of milk is that? Is it melon flavoured?"

Dohyun blinks and shakes his head, "noo! It's clay milk!"

Chan pulls his head back, "clay milk?"

"Yis!" the boy cheers softly.

The father purses his lips and thinks for a moment, "Hyunie, are you sure it's called clay milk? Maybe it's soy milk?"

"Uhhhhmmmm, I dunno appa."

"Hmm, well, I'll try and look for clay soy milk in a green box okay? But right now, let's get to school."

Chan and his cheery son made their way to the preschool. Had they not looks that were so strikingly similar, you probably may not have thought that the bright and jumpy boy had such a seriously dressed, busy looking father. Then again, most of the kids in this school had parents like Chan-- overly preoccupied and evidently wealthy.

I am faced with the ball of lightning when I meet him in the hallway. He grins at me and runs my way, "TEACHER!"

Dohyun breaks free from his father's firm grip and runs into the entrance.

I pull the straw in my milk box away and prepare for collision, "good morning baby boy."

His eyes gleam up as he looks up at me, "appa brought me to school today."

I smile and take a quick sip of my drink as I turned to the man who walked in. He smiles politely and greets me before his child lets me go. The said child then runs up to him, and the man crouches down to bring him into his arms, "Bye-bye, appa!"

The boy kisses his father's cheek and the father mimics, "bye-bye baby boy. See you later."

He sets Dohyun down, who wastes no time and quickly goes inside the room.

I pull my lips away from the drink again to greet the man, "Hello, Mr. Bang. It's so nice to finally meet you."

"Ah, you're Dohyunie's teacher, yeah?"

"Yes. I'm his advisor. Your mother actually talks about about you a lot during parent conferences so, I understand you're very busy. But we all hope you can make it to their event."

Chan knits his eyebrows, "their event?"

I knit my own brows, "Dohyun's class is having a musical recital soon. I hope you'll be able to see him perform. He's a great dancer and singer, he must get it from you."

He makes a face and tilts his head, "hold on, they have a recital? When will that be happening?"

"Next Friday... we sent a letter to our parents about this."

"Hmm, maybe my mother forgot to mention it," he says, placing a hand in his pocket, "by the way, you can just call me Chan. Only my employees call me Mr. Bang, and usually when they do, they give me news that raises my blood pressure, so Chan will do."

I look at him for a moment and decide to nod. With that, and a strong slurp, I finish the rest of my drink noisily. He watches as I sip the box dry. I begin to feel sheepish. I offer a soft smile. He smiles back at me, and I instantly verify that Dohyun got his dashing looks from his father.

"That wouldn't happen to be soy milk, would it?"

I blink slowly and smile, "yeah, how'd you know?"

"Dohyun asked me to buy him some of in the car a while ago. I guess I know why now."

I give another sheepish look, "ahhh, is that so? This Japanese Rice Soy Milk has been my new obsession, and one time Dohyun spilled his orange juice, so I gave him my box of soy milk. It's a lot less sweeter than most beverages that appeal to children, so I think that's a win for you."

Chan chuckle and nods, "I guess you're right."

I offer one last smile and nod before turning to enter the room. That is until Chan calls out to stop me. I turn to him with raised brows. He gives a soft smile, "I'm not entirely sure where to buy that. Could you help me out with it?"

In this moment, I am slightly taken aback by the insinuation between the lines of Dohyun's attractive father. Believe it or not, this isn't the first time it's happened, but out of all the other times, this interaction was not repulsive since I knew Mr. Bang Chan was a single father.

Still, as much as I would've loved to say yes, I pursed my lips into a soft smile and feigned naivete, "I think you can find them in super markets, Mr. Chan."

Chan reeled back at the slap like line drawn between them by my response and the title mister. It wasn't like he hasn't not been rejected before, but that was before he was a hot shot CEO. Normally women were pining after him, and those he ever asked gave an easy yes. It bruised his ego a tad.

He went ahead and nudged a bit, for the sake of clarification and became more direct, "ah. Would you not be comfortable seeing me out of school?"

I smiled and nodded, "I don't want to confuse anyone. I'm simply Dohyun's teacher."

Chan clarified, "favourite teacher-- the pretty one, he says."

I clear my throat and chuckle, "ah, does he think that?"

"Like father like son."

My eyes widen a bit. I nearly slap my hand to my face. I snort softly and smile, "well, I should really be going inside now. It was nice meeting you again mist--"

"Chan, please, just Chan."

I nod and comply, "Chan."

Minho gave me a look when I entered the room, "that was a loooong talk."

I gave him wide eyes, which he instantly knew the meaning too. He whisper yells, "Damn, girl's got game. Isn't he like a CEO or something?"

I nodded.

"Isn't he the one with the grandmother? He's single right?"

I merely shrug, which makes Minho shake his head at me. "Well? Are you going to see him?"

"Ya, are you crazy? He's one of our kids' parent."

"You're literally resigning two weeks from now. He could pay your student loans."

"I don't have student loans."

"oh right, miss College-Scholar."

I turn to the kids and smile, "alright boys and girls, let's all stand up and do some quick exercises!"

Minho goes and plays some music the turns to me, "I'd let him pay my student loans."

I scoff slightly, "oh I bet you would."

Later that day, by the time Chan, his mother, and son were having dinner and his mind stopped obsessing about money and manpower, Chan began to think about Dohyun's teacher.

Suddenly, he remembers was mentioned earlier, "mum, Dohyun's teacher said they're having a recital next friday. Why didn't you tell me?"

Chan's mother turned to him and gave a look, "well I did, but then you had a call and then I figured you may not be able to attend, so I left it at that."

Chan cocks his head, "mum! It's Dohyun's recital. I can make it work for him, always."

The old woman sighs, "I'm sorry, love. I guess it's good you met Dohyun's teacher today that she was able to tell you."

Chan turns to Dohyun who was quietly finishing up his food. He caresses the boy's head, "you good, bud?"

He nods and turns to his father. Chan smiles and kisses the crown of Dohyun's head.

Chan's mother sighs, "you know, I really like that girl."

Chan turns to the woman, "who?"

"Dohyun's teacher. Dohyun likes her a lot too."

Chan raised a brow and blows air out of his nostrils, "are you suggesting I hit on Dohyun's teacher?"

The woman only eats her food.

Chan chuckles, "well, mum, if you must know, I asked her out and she turned me down. She was very clear that I was Dohyun's dad and she was his teacher."

She chuckles at that, "well I like her even more now. She clearly has a moral compass--" her voice suddenly gets softer, "unlike the poor boy's actual mom."

Chan gives his mother a look, "eomma... Now is not the time."

"It's never going to be the time, but this shouldn't be taboo. Dohyun deserves to know the truth about his mother."

Dohyun begins to perk up at the words he heard, intrigued by the concept of a mother. His classmates seemed to have one, and apparently grandmothers don't count so he wanted to know more.

"What would you even do if she came back suddenly?"

Chan grips his hand. He feels anger boil up in him. He thinks of how heartbroken he was and sighs in defeat, "I dunno."

"Well you have to know, cause it's bound to happen one way or another. Either she looks for him, or he looks for her."

Chan blinks slowly. He knew them both well and he feels it in his guts it would be the latter.

He knew she went back to her parents after they had sworn to be together forever. He had even bought her a ring at that point, but she left that too.

Chan tenses at the thought. He begins to have everything flash like a movie scene in his head. He feels sick when he recalls how they fought after Dohyun was born. They had been so happy up until that moment. He was still in the process of building up his business. He had numerous failed attempts under his belt at this point, and he already felt he was letting everyone down. And at this lowest point, she decided to leave to 'find herself.' Chan knew it was just her way of ditching him and what he was certain she saw as baggage, their son. She never wanted to keep their baby because they were both just out of college.

She had plans to continue her studies in medical school. Of course Chan supported her and promised to get her through it, but obviously she couldn't trust the words of a man who had promised her the world at the time. She most definitely went back to her parents after their fight. They partially were the reason for her decision to leave anyway. They never liked Chan, much less something of his.

Chan sometimes has his stomach drop at the way his son looked and acted. Clearly, Dohyun was his mother's son; it was uncanny. Part of him bubbles up at the idea that there is so much of her in him, but he has become grateful for that reminder. It was proof at one point she did love him, and he was not the one that was at fault.

His tension deflates when Dohyun asks him, "appa, do you have an appa?"

Chan turns to his son and nods, "yes, appa has his own appa."

Dohyun's grandmother smiles, "he's far away now. He lives in the clouds."

"Oooh, is that were my omma is?"

Chan’s mother frowns. Chan can't help but shoot her a dirty look. He sighs and faces his son, "No, baby. Your mama is not with grandpa... I honestly don't know where your mama is."

"Is she lost?"

Chan freezes.

Chan hums for a moment, "she's not lost. But she's living somewhere we can't go to right now."

Dohyun nods, "so can we go to her later?"

Chan sighs and turns to his doe eyed baby. He straightens his back, "hold on." He stands and wanders off somewhere. His mother feels sadness spread over her.

Chan comes back with a small but hefty chocolate box.

"This is some of your mum's things that I saved for you," Chan said, interally thanking himself for not letting anger throw everything of hers away. He points to the brand of chocolate, "this was her favorite. I used to buy her this."

Dohyun cooed at that and it made Chan slightly tear up. He sniffled it away though and scratched his eyes.

Dohyun turns to his father with a smile. Chan smiles back softly and watches as the boy does the honor of opening the box. Dohyun took a polaroid picture from inside and Chan pointed at woman, "this is your eomma."

"She's pretty," he smiles.

Chan take a moment and nods, "she was." He takes another picture from the box. "This was us before you were born. This was her on our fourth date. And this one was when you were already in her tummy."

Dohyun doesn't seem to be too satisfied with it. He blinks, "Appa, can we call omma?"

Chan purses his lips, "I can't bud, I don't know her number."

"But you call uncle Changbin and he comes to our house."

"That's because I know uncle Changbin's number."

"Oooooooh."

Chan sighs, "don't worry bud. I promise when you're older, you'll get to see your omma."

"Okay, and your omma and my omma can play together too!"

Chan smiles, "of course, Dohyun."

Chan is both relieved and unnerved by the fact his son doesn't press on about the matter any further. He has also been uncharacteristically patient with everything.

Normally, when Chan said no to ice cream, Dohyun would throw a little tantrum to get him to say yes. To his surprise, upon getting turned down recently, his son only nodded and kept quiet.

At this point, he was made certain that Dohyun was suppressing his feelings when Chan bought him the soy milk he wanted, and he jumped off of the couch, only to halt and calmly walk towards him and the groceries.

Chan was concerned to say the least. The fact a child knew how to do this, and was doing this for seemingly no reason.

He watched as his son stuck a straw in the green paper box and sigh.

"Love, are you alright?" Chan asked as he carried his son and propped him up the counter. Dohyun was sipping on his drink. He averted his eyes to his appa and nodded.

Chan waited for him to say something, but he didn't.

Chan sighs, "Hyunie, you haven't been acting the same way ever since we talked about your mum. Are you acting differently because of that?"

Dohyun pouts a bit and pulls the straw in his mouth away. He hums, "We can go to eomma if I'm a good boy, right?"

Chan feels like he's been kicked in the gut. It crashes down on him like hail. He inhales deeply and blinks rapidly. He feels hot tears prick in the corner of his eyes. It's too much for him.

He clears his throat and rests a hand in the counter his son was sat on. He curses that his voice breaks, "Dohyun, you have never been a bad boy. But that's not the reason why we can't go to eomma."

"Appa," Dohyun speaks slowly. Chan at this point wipes his face to hide the tears that threatened to fall. Dohyun notices still and places a hand on Chan's cheek, "do you miss eomma?"

That leaves Chan winded. He can't help but cry at this point. He takes his son's hand away from him and pulls him in an embrace, "My son, my baby boy... Appa has been so bad to you."

Dohyun tightly wraps his arms around his father, "appa is not a bad boy. Iz okay to cry. You'll be okay."

Chan chuckles bitterly. How dare he let his son comfort him with his own words?

He sniffles and pulls away. Dohyun cups his face, "are you sad because you miss eomma?"

Chan feels bile in his throat, "No. I'm sad because you thought you couldn't see your mum because were a bad boy."

Dohyun breaks into tears against Chan's shoulder. Chan rubs his back, "Hyunie, the reason why we can't go to your mummy is because she's confused. She's was surprised when she found out she was going to be your mama, so she left trying to figure some things out."

"Can we teach her how to be a mama?"

Chan sighs, "it's not that simple, bud."

It was at this moment, he notices his son is silently crying. Chan curses mentally and scoops the boy up in this arms, "aw mate, I've made you sad."

Dohyun doesn't reply.

"Don't worry. I promise you'll meet your mama, okay. I'm just not sure when."

Dohyun nods against his shoulder, "okay daddy."

Chan was then somehow relieved when the day Dohyun's recital came and he was throwing a tantrum. Teacher Minho had called him from the audience and explained that his son refused to stop crying for five minutes.

It was all because Dohyun knew it was my last day.

I manage to shush him by sitting down and keeping him in my arms. But every time I tried to pull away, he would begin crying again. By the time Chan came around, he looked as if he was my saving grace.

"Hyunie, you have to let go of teacher now. She has to help the other teachers with the show, and you have to get ready to show me your dance. You were so excited about it yesterday, so why are you sad now?"

"Because teacher is gonna leave me."

Chan stills and sighs, "teacher isn't leaving you. She's going home to her family to take care of them because her brother is sick."

"But I don't want her to go appa~~."

"Dohyun," Chan places a hand on the child's back. He finally releases me a tad to turn to his father. "If appa were sick, you'd take care of me right?"

Dohyun nods. Chan smiles, "your teacher is just doing the same thing you would for your family".

Dohyun pouts, understanding but defeated.

"Can you come back?" Dohyun asks me.

I smile and nod. Chan replies for me, "Teacher will definitely come when she can, Hyunie." It was at this point Chan was able to get Dohyun from me.

Dohyun suddenly blurts, "can appa get your number?"

We both still.

Chan chuckle nervously, "what are you talking about, bud?"

"You can't call mama because you don't have her number. You can't call teacher if you don't have her number."

My heart breaks upon hearing this, but it is clear Chan was too uncomfortable to do anything about what his son wanted. "We can get teacher's number later, okay? For now, focus of your recital, Dohyun."

He nods. Chan kisses him on the cheek.

I was about to address what just happened, except Minho yanked at my shoulder and explained there was a audio problem happening. I turned to Chan for a moment and thanked him, "I have to go help with the technical difficulty."

Chan nods and gives a soft smile.

After smoothening that hiccup with the sound, the rest of the performance was good. The kids didn't need much help remembering the steps or the lines which made us all collectively so proud.

Dohyun, we teachers agreed, was the best performer out of all of the kids. Don't get me wrong, Suzy was blessed with such a sweet sounding voice, but she was too distracted with her dress. Jinyoung is great at dancing, up until he forgets the steps. But Dohyun was the whole package, clear with how he sang and danced about fishes in the deep blue sea.

And believe me, I wasn't going to give Chan my number for anything else but for his sweetie pie. But by the time the recital was done and some of the people had left, Chan and Dohyun were gone, and I had no chance to.

Minho offered to pass on my number to the Bangs, but I knew he was going to mix it some questionable information with it, so I took a pass on that.

Going back to my parents house was too relaxing for me. Of course I knew I was going back to take care of my brother because he got into a car accident, but knowing I was going to stay at home for a month felt so nice to me. It somehow made me feel guilty to be away from my kids so suddenly. Thankfully I was preoccupied with a big baby so that I didn't feel too down.

"You do know I still have both my hands right," Jisung stated for the twentieth time this week how he didn't need me and that our mother was overreacting.

"She's worried you'll fall down the stairs."

"I won't."

I snap him a look.

"...again."

"You're lucky I got to you before you could break your head. Not that it was never not broken."

Jisung flicked me in the forehead. I growled and readied to retaliate, "ah! Are you really going to hit the disabled?"

"You're right... I should just not cook for them or help them get to the bathroom."

Jisung is silenced.

I roll my eyes at him and continue browsing through the internet for job openings.

"Why did you resign your job anyway? Couldn't you have applied for a leave?"

"I had already used up all my leaves."

"..."

"They're really strict about leaves. Honestly, I have been wanting to resign for a long time. The only reason I stayed was for my kids and Minho."

"Marry him."

"He's already married."

"That hasn't stopped married people before."

"Listen you little--"

"Woah hey," Jisung points to the screen, "this one pays well and is close to your apartment."

I divert my attention to the screen and find that my idiot brother was right.

"And it's just for secretary work! You literally graduated with a double major in commerce and communication so you are overqualified for this."

I narrow my eyes at him, "are you suddenly looking down in this job offer?"

"No, idiot, I'm saying this job was meant for you. You could up the ladder this way."

"I can't believe you're making sense."

"When have I-" "you said yesterday that if you had one wish, you wanted to be into a duck so you could go to other countries for free."

"Hey, ducks migrate!"

"Doesn't change the fact you'd still be a duck in a foreign country. You literally could’ve just wished to be able to go to any country freely."

“NoW iZ rEaLlY nOt ThE tImE tO Be DisCuSsInG mY liFe cHoicEs.”

I sigh, “sadly, I think this should be talked about to a professional.”

Whether or not Jisung was making sense was still up for debate. What didn't need debate was the fact that this job was really the jackpot. It seemed they were truly in need of a secretary because I got called within the day for an initial interview. I was then scheduled for an interview the next week.

By that time, Jisung had changed his cast and got accustomed to his crutches. He even sent me a video of himself using his crutches as I went to my interview. I in return sent him a video showing the building I was going to from a cafe in front of it.

I nearly jumped on to whom was in line in front of me. Suddenly, someone came up from behind and called my name out loudly.

I turned to my side and gasped when I saw a blonde friend of mine, smiling from ear to ear, "Hyunjin?!"

He chuckles and runs his hands on the side of his head, "who else would look as handsome?"

I chuckled and pulled him into a quick hug, "I never thought I'd see you in a suit. You look expensive."

He scoffs, "that's because I am, miss obvious."

"Says the boy who wore nothing but hoodies for the entirety of college."

"They were designer."

"They stunk."

Hyunjin raises a finger but brings it down. I cackle and turn to the menu sign, "you still like americanos?"

He turns to me and nods, smiling softly.

"You pull off the blonde hair with the suit. It's concerning."

Hyunjin chuckles, "what can I say, I--" "still like pissing you dad off with your hair?"

"Well, okay that, and I just look good in anything."

I avert my eyes to him and withhold the insult I had at the tip of tongue, only because I really did think he looked nice in this particular getup.

By the time it's my turn, I order two iced americanos.

Hyunjin raises a brow, "you like americano now?"

"Trust me, when you've worked at a nursery, you tend to like things that isn't pure sugar."

"Ohhh, she's been stealing candy from children."

"Oh, shut up."

Hyunjin chuckles and raises his hands. I pay for the drink but Hyunjin grabs my hand and moves to get his wallet. I shake him off, "it's my treat."

He rolls his eyes, "which one of us is part of the one percent?"

I blink slowly at his expensive suit and shoes. He pulls out his leather wallet and his black card. I purse my lips, swallowing the sentiment I had about how I was probably going to get a job at a high paying company anyway. Knowing Hyunjin, he probably owned that company. I mean, I never really payed attention to what business family owned since he never liked talking about it anyway but he was no-duh rich.

Hyunjin takes our orders and hands me the drink. He then takes a moment as we're walking to a table, to assess my outfit and comment on it.

"You also look expensive today."

I turn to him and raise a brow, "Unlike you, I actually always look expensive even without the designer brands. It's called personal hygiene."

"You literally act as if I don't wash my clothes."

"You don't, your maid does it for you."

Hyunjin and I sit down on the table. He licks his teeth and narrows his eyes, "I live alone now and I do all my chores. I even cook!"

I snort and take a sip of my drink, "Aw." I move to pinch his cheeks. He leaned away a bit in confusion but I still caught him, "the baby has life skills. Give him a prize."

He pulls away and rubs his cheek, "you're still mean."

"And you're still a baby."

Hyunjin doesn't reply and only sips on his beverage. I mimic then point at the building in front of this establishment, "I have a job interview there."

"Wait, didn't you just say you were working at a nursery."

"Nah. I resigned. Jisung says I can climb up the ladder with this job."

Hyunjin stills for a moment then he snorts, "hold on I just imagine you climbing up a ladder in that dress and falling."

I knit my brows and smacked him, "literally only you would find my death a comedy."

Hyunjin shook his head, "nonono I would cry if you died."

"If I die, I'm taking you with me."

"Oooh, how romantique," he says, pulling out his phone, "could I get your number?"

"Pshh, as if I'd invite you to my funeral."

"Oh come on. I'd bring cake to your funeral."

I made a buzzer sound, "Wrong answer. You'd bring that to taunt me that I can't eat cake anymore cause I'm dead."

Hyunjin holds back a laugh, "nah, I'm bringing it to celebrate one less moron on the earth."

I sigh, "fine. Only because my mom would be sad if I died and she would be happy to see you."

"Woah, woah," Hyunjin leaned in, "no one's actually dying okay."

I click my tongue, "I dunno, I think I may kill you if you breathe wrong way on me later."

"Duly noted, psycho."

After punching in my number, I give it to back to Hyunjin. He then fondles with his phone a bit and brings it to his ear.

I roll my eyes, “I didn’t give you a fake number, genuis.”

He then stands from his seat, “psh, as if I’d ever call you. I actually have important things to do, dummy.” He moves past me and knocks on my head as he heads to take the call outside.

I watch as he paces outside and places a hand on his hip. As much as I'd hate to admit it, even mentally, Hyunjin had always been a looker. I never like pointing it out because he tends to be an airhead cause he thinks it's cute. I suddenly remember all of the parents I had at school who looked and dressed like him. I then agree that when Hyunjin has a kid, he’s most definitely enrolling his kid in that school.

I then think of Dohyun who wanted my number. I wonder how he and his papa has been doing.

When Hyunjin comes back, he sits down with a soft smile, “hey, it was really nice catching up to you today. I’m on the clock though, I have to head back.”

I nod at him, “do you work nearby?"

Hyunjin turns outside and purses his lips, “Yeah, I just have to go down the block.”

I hum and nod, “well, when I get the job here we can have lunch together.”

He smirks, “when huh? Well, it sounds like a deal, miss confident.”

“You gotta fake it til you make it.”

“Text me when you get the job okay.”

“Okay.”

“You liar, you don’t even have my number.”

“Uh, you’re acting like you wouldn’t text me the moment you got out of here.”

“Okay, facts were pointed out.”

During the interview, I wasn’t asked as many questions as I thought I would have been. In fact, it seemed that the interviewer was so uninterested in me that by the time we ended the interview, the confidence I had when I came it had evaporated.

So you could only imagine my surprise when I got called to that I got the job.

And how excited my mom was to be told that I when I would start next Monday, I should wear a formal dress because my superior would be attending a very important meeting. (She had been buying me formal dresses for so long, and now I could finally wear them).

I woke up bright and early and headed off to the fancy building, to its 50th floor.

I wasn’t prepared to see what I did however.

It was Chan talking to someone, who seemed to be giving him a headache. It suddenly hit me that he may just be my boss now. He was a CEO and when I did research, I found SKZ group was reportedly run by someone on the young side.

As I walked up to the office I was supposed to go to, Chan and I met each other’s eyes. I felt like a deer caught it headlights. He raised a brow at me, “oh, hi. Funny seeing you here.”

I smile and nodded, “yeah, I didn’t expect to see you here either.”

In the middle of the silence, Chan suddenly realizes something, “Wait... do you happen to work here now?”

I nod slowly and smile, “it’s my first day.”

“Really? Small world.”

I wait for him to say it. To say that he was my boss now, but he seems to forget to do this. I begin to look around awkwardly, and decide I should just ask him. But at that moment, I then see Hyunjin strutting towards me with a huge grin on his face.

“You’re here!” Hyunjin calls.

“You idiot,” I groan. Chan pulls back at that. I feel my life flash before my eyes as I realize Hyunjin was probably here to rub noses with my new boss just to spite me. He has done way worse in our university years.

I give him a stern look. He looks back at me and pouts, “what’s your deal?”

I grab his arm, “can we talk somewhere else?”

I try to push him to the side but Hyunjin repels me and stays still, “wait, we can talk in the car. I just have to talk to Chan.”

I freeze and turn between my college best friend and my former student’s father. Hyunjin feels wholeheartedly smug, “is it making sense now?”

I give him a confused look.

“Miss Han, I’m your new employer,” Hyunjin poses with his finger and his thumb stuck out underneath his chin. I release him from my grip and pull back, “wait what?”

“It’s okay, I’ll tell you everything in the car,” Hyunjin turns to Chan, “will you be joining us, Chan?”

Chan looks between Hyunjin and I and shakes his head, “no. I have my own car.”

Hyunjin nods, “Okay. Let’s get to parking now shall we?”

Only Hyunjin was the one comfortable in the silence between us as we took the elevator to the basement. You can believe I lashed out on him the moment we were in his car.

“BRUH!”

“Oi, I am mister Hwang to you.”

“You own SKZ corp?”

“Yes, miss Han, if you had been paying attention, you would know it by now.”

“Hyunjin-”

“Mr. Hwang.”

I deadpan him.

“Okay fine, I’ll let you call me by my name.”

“Hyunjin, how could you hire me!”

“What? You were more than qualified, hell, you’re overqualified, considering you were much better in college than I am.”

“Don’t you see how weird and problematic this is?”

“How is it either weird or problematic?” he asks as straps himself in the drivers seat and he starts his car. He motions I do the same and I sigh as I do. I whine, “where are we even going?”

“Tsk, tsk, you didn’t listen to your briefing. We’re going to a event where all the CEOs laugh and talk about how rich they are and sell their products.”

“I was told it was a meeting.”

“It is a meeting.”

I huff, “I’m going to tell HR I change my mind.”

“Woah, woah, woah, didn’t you say you wanted to climb up the ladder here?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to do that when people will think the only reason I got up the ladder is because I used to be classmates with the CEO.”

“You wound me, you could’ve at least said best friends.”

“You’re literally not helping.”

Hyunjin makes his way out into the street and turns over to my in the thick silence. “Is it really that bad? You said you wanted to have lunch with me.”

“You puppy! I do, but not like this.”

“You call me a puppy as if it’s a bad thing.”

“Yes it is! All you’re good for is making sweet eyes and whining.”

“Fine, if you hate it so much, you can resign, but give it a week at least, okay. I really do need a secretary, which is why I’m paying a lot for it. We may be able to find someone else by then.”

“Fine.”

Two months pass, and it feels like my first day of work all over again, considering I’m in another big meeting with Hyunjin in the same venue we went to.

“Mr. Im is gonna want to talk to you about the car development project again.”

Hyunjin makes a face, “I’d much rather watch a romcom with you than work with Mr. Im again.” He takes a sip of his drink and I shoot him a look.

“It’s a complimennnnt. I literally said I’d rather watch a romcom with you.”

“Yes, but you compared it to working with Im Jaebum.”

“You said he was cute once,” Hyunjin said.

“That was before he opened his mouth and revealed how stupid he was.”

“Atta girl.”

At this point, I spot a familiar face in the crowd. I point, “Look, Chan is over there.”

“Hmm? Oh, well I don’t really care. Our partnership is doing well even if we don’t talk.”

I shoot him a glare, “wow. This is why you flunked communications class.”

“Not everyone double majored in communications and commerce, smarty pants.”

“Oh come one, let’s say hi.”

“I don’t really want to feed into his crush on you.”

“Hyunjin, the entire male population does not have a crush on me like you’re making it out.”

“That’s what you said up until Jackson asked you out.”

“Mr. Wang asks everyone out.”

“Okay, but he was serious about it.”

“Whatever, I’ll say hi, you can stay here.”

“Noooo, fine.”

“TEACHER!” I am surprised when Dohyun suddenly runs up to me once we made it to Chan.

Chan scolds him, “Dohyun, inside voice.”

I bend down and embrace the boy. I turn to his dad that gives a look, “sorry, I couldn’t find a nanny, so I bought him over.”

Hyunjin turns from the boy to Chan. He moves over and goes for a handshake, “how’s it been?”

“Good," Chan takes Hyunjin's hand. "Our stocks have never been higher since our partnership."

Hyunjin nods, “good to know.”

“Appa says you’re working with him now. Does that mean you can come over like uncle Changbin?” Dohyun asks, breaking away from to do so.

I was about to answer, but someone beat me to it.

“Uncle Changbin is Chan’s college friend,” the said uncle Changbin blurts as I fully let go of Dohyun. The boy then runs up to the man, and Changbin catches and carries him. He continues, “and your former teacher miss Han is Hwang Hyunjin’s college friend.”

“Who is Hwang Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin raises his hand and waves at Dohyun, “that’s me! I’m your teacher’s best friend.”

Dohyun purses his lips and nods, “hello.”

Changbin and Chan turn to each other.

Hyunjin smiles then turns to me, “should we get going now? It's getting pretty late and I'm getting really hungry.”

Dohyun whines and wrangles out of Changbin’s arm, “nooo, don’t go away.”

“Hyunie, I’m sorry but I’m not your teacher anymore. I work a different job now, which is why I, in a way, work with your papa.”

“But teacher,” Dohyun begins to tear up.

I pout, “It’s okay Dohyun, We can play some other time, and I’ll give you my number so you can call me okay?”

Dohyun nods, “yes! You didn’t give your number before you left.”

“I’m sorry. I tried to look for you and your dad, but you were already gone.”

I stand up and hand Dohyun my business card, “call me okay. But right now I have to go.”

Dohyun nods.

“I can’t believe you gave the boy your number,” Hyunjin complains as we make our way out of the venue.

“He literally had a breakdown when I resigned. He’s never had a mother, so I’m sure he’s projecting on me.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Hyunjin blurts a little too harshly.

I freeze, recalling the memories of how sad Hyunjin was when he talked about his parents for not being there for him. I look at his face and nod, “if I had the chance to do the same to you, I would.”

Hyunjin’s expression falls. He shakes his head, joking half-heartedly, “I can’t believe you want to be my mom.”

“Hyunjin-”

“No, I get it. Thanks... sorry I’m just... protective.”

“You’re always protective, but for a kid?”

“More like his dad.”

“Hyunjin, I-”

“You may not see it, but I do, because we look at you the same way.”

I am silenced by such an answer. Instantly, my mind wanders at what that could possibly mean. My heart begins to beat a little faster, “in what way, Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin shrugs, “that you’re the loveliest person in the room."

At that point, we make our way to his car, and not another word is spoken.

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bbyreigns · 3 years

Text

Here For You.

jax teller x black!reader

Warnings: fluff, mentions of sex

My alarm rang loudly and I groaned at the idea of waking up and having such a long day ahead of me. It was a sunny day and the sunlight peeked through my blinds next to me. Reaching over, I turned my alarm off and sat up, stretching a bit. Looking to one side of the bed, I realized that once again, I was alone. It's been almost a year since my husband left me and our 1 year old daughter. I hadn't been the same since. I worked my ass off day and night to provide for my child. And I spent as much time with her as I could. I knew my husband bailing on me wasn't going to keep me from being a great mother. Rolling over to my nightstand, I saw my baby sleeping fast asleep on the monitor.

Now's the time to take a shower while I can. I thought, climbing out of bed. Walking into my bathroom, I turned the shower knob on to hot, seeing the water flow steadily. Walking over to the mirror, I looked at myself, running my hands over my face in exhaustion. As I waited for the water to heat up, I grabbed my small speaker and turned my phone onto my favorite playlist.

Allowing the water to touch my fingertips, I realized the shower was now hot enough and I stepped in. As I washed my body and let the warm water flow over my face, I thought about getting through yet another day. Quickly finishing up, I turned the water off and grabbed my towel, making my way back into my bedroom. Once I was dressed and lotioned and my teeth were brushed, I walked down the hall to my daughter's bedroom. Opening the door, my daughter smiled at me, her pacifier still in her mouth as she sat in her crib.

"Good morning, baby," I cooed, as she reached her arms up for me to pick her up. I scooped her up, kissing her soft cheek. "Let's get dressed." I opened her closet, moving her closer to her clothes.

"What would you like to wear today, munchkin?" I said, pulling a few dresses out of her closet. I let her reach out and choose one. Her little hand landed on a green dress with pink flowers. "Great choice, honey."

After I changed her diaper and got her out of her PJs and dressed, we headed out of the house. I buckled her into her car seat and we were on our way. My mom normally takes her while I work. About five minutes into the ride, my low pressure light came on and I come feel my car leaning to one side.

"Shit," I whispered, realizing I have a flat. "Looks like we're going to be late princess."

I drove to the closest mechanic, Teller-Morrow, putting my car in park. I took my daughter out of her car seat, grabbed her diaper bag from the trunk and sat her on my hip. As I walked to the door, a few men came out. One was blond, crystal blue eyes, walked with a lean. Handsome. I thought. The other was blond too and seemed nervous and jittery. Looking at their jackets, I could tell they were on their way somewhere. I knew all about the Sons of Anarchy, but I also knew that what they do is what's necessary and best for Charming.

"Hi, um I'm pretty sure I have a flat," I said, pointing to my slanted Honda Civic.

"Looks like you've got more than that," the handsome one said.

"Jesus, is it going to take a long time?" I asked.

"You're going to have to leave it here for at least a day," he replied. I sighed before texting my supervisor that I wouldn't be in today. "I can take you and the little princess home." He smiled, poking my daughter's hand. She grinned shyly and put her head on my shoulder. I nodded and said thank you and leaned against my car.

"I'm Jax, by the way," he stated.

"Y/N. Nice to meet you," I replied with a smile. He told me he had a few things to tie up before he took me home so I waited by my car until he was finished. As I waited, I played with my daughter, throwing her up a little and catching her. She giggled, clutching me every time she came back down.

"Can you give Mommy a kiss?" I cooed, holding her high again. As I brought her back down to eye level, she hummed, making that mmm sound with her lips.

"Mmwah," I said with her to meet her in the middle. "Ooohhh thank you baby. You are so sweet."

Little did I know, Jax had been watching some of our interaction.

Second Person POV Jax had gone to let the other guys know where he was going. When he returned, he saw you making faces at your daughter as she giggled and throwing her in the air.

"Who's the hot mom?" Opie asked and tapped him on the shoulder. Looking at you, Jax couldn't help but be attracted.

"Not sure yet. She is hot though, right?" Jax replied.

"For sure. You hittin' that?" Opie leaned over to ask.

"Nah, don't know her all that well," Jax stated, glancing at Ope.

"Hm. Shit, if you don't, I will," Ope chuckled. Jax smiled and nodded, making his way back to you.

Your POV "Hey, you ready?" Jax asked. I nodded, grabbing my daughter's car seat out of my car. He walked me over to his truck and I buckled my daughter into her seat, before going to the passenger's side. Jax opened the door for me and I thanked him. As he drove, I told him my address and started to make small conversation.

"I really appreciate you doing this," I said with a smile.

"It's no problem. Have you lived in Charming a long time?" He questioned.

"Almost two years. It's a nice town. Quiet. Crime kept at bay for the most part," I replied, glancing out of the window.

"Yeah, Charming PD does a good job of that," he stated with hesitation. I chuckled at his statement. I knew Charming PD weren't the ones keeping the crime low. "What?"

"We both know it's not the cops handling the crime here. It's got everything to do with that jacket you have on," I said, looking at him.

He nodded with a smile, saying "You think you know everything, huh?".

I leaned over, putting my lips next to his ear. "Not everything, but I know enough about you, Jax Teller." We pulled up to my house and I glanced at my daughter who was fast asleep.

"Pretty big house for just the two of you," Jax said.

"Yeah, um I'm divorced. So it's just me and her now," I explained. He nodded and apologized. I grabbed my daughter from her car seat and walked her to the front door, unlocking it and turning to Jax. "Come in. I'm just gonna put her down in her room."

I slowly walked her up to her room, giving her a kiss on the forehead, before shutting her door and grabbing the baby monitor on the way out. Jax stood by the front door waiting for me.

"Thanks again for the ride home. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Something to drink?" I offered, leading him into the kitchen.

"No thanks I'm alright. If you don't mind me asking, why'd you get divorced?" He inquired.

"Um it's complicated. Everything was perfect l, especially when I found out I was pregnant. We'd been trying for a baby for a really long time. Rob was over the moon when we found out were having a girl. But I'm a laywer and I was working a big case. I wasn't home much right before we found out and in the beginning of my pregnancy. He thought I was cheating on him. Started being really aggressive and it only amplified when I gave birth," I started getting choked up as I spoke. "He didn't think she looked like him. Said that maybe I was sleeping around. Although really I was busting my ass on the biggest case in my career and about to bring in much more money than I'd ever had."

Jax put his arm around me, pulling my head to his chest. "Anyway, he said he refused to take care of another man's baby. So he left us and left me with a 4 month old newborn baby," I cried softly. Looking up at Jax, I felt bad for crying. "Sorry, I just get a little emotional. I don't miss him or anything. I just wanted my little girl to have a father."

"It's okay. Everything is going to be fine. You're a great mother and you're beautiful, darlin'. Any one would be lucky to have you," he glanced down at me, making eye contact. I stared into his icy blue eyes, my eyes switching from his eyes back to his lips over and over again. Lightly grabbing the back of my neck, he brought my lips to his, kissing me softly. I slightly pulled away and Jax wiped my tears away with his thumb, before connecting our lips again. We made out, slowly as our lips melted together.

It had been a long time since I had sex and to be completely honest, I felt really needy. But for some reason, I trusted Jax. With his hand in mine, I led him to my bedroom, kicking my shoes off at the door. He assisted me in removing my pants and blazer, and lightly pushed me into the bed. The protective mother in me made me take a quick glance at the baby monitor, seeing my daughter still fast asleep. Jax kissed me again, beginning to kiss down my jawline and neck. He was extremely gentle with me, asking me if what he was doing was okay. Jax paid extra attention to making me feel good and that I finished. Multiple times. He made sure he didn't hurt me and I was grateful for that. I woke up two hours later with my head in Jax's chest. He was looking at me, kissing my forehead when I woke.

"Hey," he said softly, kissing my lips. But for some reason, I was in pure panic. Looking at the baby monitor, I saw my daughter awake but playing with the rattles in her crib. I grabbed the sheet, wrapping it around my body quickly. "Everything alright?"

"I promise I don't normally do this. I'm sorry. I think you should go," I responded. I just had sex with someone I met today. I'm so not the hook up type. "If you're looking for a fuck buddy, I promise I'm not that."He looked at me confused, grabbing my arm and pulling me down to him.

"That's not my intention, beautiful. I like you. I'd like to get to know you better," he said, running his fingers down my back.

"Pretty sure we're past the getting to know each other part. Again, I think you should go, Jax," I said, trying to get up.

"Alright," he responded, starting to get dressed. I washed my face in the bathroom, trying not to think about what I'd done. When he finished dressing, he walked behind me, placing his hands around my waist. He used his hand to gently free my neck as he placed light kisses on it, getting closer to my ear with each press of his lips. "But next time you’re lookin’ for some fun and preferably, wanna go out sometime, you know where to find me."

I looked at him in the mirror as he smiled at me, biting his lip. Damn, that Teller charm. He left my bedroom on that note and I heard the front door close behind him. I sighed, pondering why I was so into this man I'd only met five hours ago. I put my robe on and checked the baby monitor once again, seeing her still playing. A little piece of green paper was next to it, with a number and a name on it. I rolled my eyes, thinking of that handsome biker who gave me butterflies. Making my way to my daughter's room, I picked her up, giving her a kiss on the forehead. But that Jax Teller never left my mind and I wasn't sure how to feel about that.

#soa #soa imagine #jax teller #jax teller x reader #jax teller x black reader #jax teller x black!reader #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #jax teller imagine #sons of anarchy x reader #black!reader

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kishillaa · 3 years

Text

SSM21 Day 16: Dates

Sakura was sitting crossed legs in her room, on the edge of her bed as she looks herself on the body length mirror of her own reflection. She was wearing a burgundy colored dress with small flower petals surrounding the fabric, it was a knee length dress with the sleeves ended just before her elbow that Ino commented as boring.

Sakura cringed inwardly as she thought of the dress Ino had picked for her. It was pretty, but too lewd, showing off too much skin for a first date. She personally like the dress she wears better than Ino's choice; it complimenting her eyes, her skin, and especially her hair. It was really simple, but she likes it better that way. And plus, her date do always wear something simple either.

She couldn't believe her crush had asked her for a date, it was so stoic so boring–Ino's word, nothing extravagant or remotely romantic but it was so Sasuke.

Sakura blushes as she rereads the conversation of their text messages again. It was partly a dare of the truth or dare game she played with her friends a week ago, Temari had dared her to text Sasuke, who they all knew was whom she's been liking since they're younger. She was so glad she was a little bit tipsy that night, or this wasn't going to happen.

Sakura bit her lips, trying to hold her delighted yet embarrassed squeal as she reads their first few texts.

She chug another mouthful of a strong liquor Tenten sneaked out of the bar she part-time at, before she started a conversation with Sasuke Uchiha over text message.

Sakura: Hi...

Sakura: It's me, Sakura. I sit behind you in Biochem with Kakashi-sensei.

Even in her drunk state, her heart was hammering hard in her chest when she saw the three dots moving, signaling that he's typing his reply.

Sasuke: Hey.

Decide to not beat around the bush, Sakura typed bluntly.

Sakura: I met you first time during summer camp when we were 13.

Sakura: I know you already forgetting about me, so don't bother try to remember.

Sakura: I like you that whole month we were there. And still do when it ended.

Sakura: I was surprised to see you the first time we met in Kakashi-sensei's class.

Sakura: And right now, we're playing truth and dare. My friend dared me to confess to you.

Sakura: So, yeah.

Sasuke: I don't remember.

Sakura: You don't have to.

Sasuke: Okay.

Sasuke: Are you free next saturday?

The whole group of her friends surrounded her when she let out a loud squeal, they all follow suit after seeing his reply. When their excitement subsided, they urged her to quickly type her reply. Her hand was shaking terribly as she typed on her iPhone,

Sakura: Uhm, I usually free in the evening.

Sasuke: I'll pick you up at 7 then.

Sakura: Wait! What does this means?

Sasuke: You're still annoying.

Sasuke: I'm taking you out.

Sakura gasped as she read the first text that came in after her reply, "He remembered. That jerk." Her tears of happiness were on the verge of her eyes.

Sakura: Like a date?

Sakura: You did remember, you silly! You keep saying I was annoying those time too.

Sasuke: Call it anything you want.

Sasuke: Of course I do. You were so annoying. You spoke all the time, you put your hand so high up to participate. It was so damn annoying. And your hair is so annoying either!

Sakura: I didn't know you noticed me that much!

Sasuke: You do realized I kind of just typed out my displeasure of you right?

Sakura: You did ask me out on a date.

Sakura: So I just assume you were attracted to that annoying part of me.

Sasuke: Tch

Sasuke: You're so damn annoying

He actually typed out the scoffing sound. Man, he is so cute.

"This was nice." Sakura said when they arrived at her rented apartment. She can feel herself blushed as she looks at the handsome Sasuke Uchiha before her. She do a once over again–she couldn't remember how many time she did. He was wearing a simple dark blue button-up shirt that he neatly folded its long sleeves to his elbow and a pair of black jeans. His hair was in his usual duck-but style as Temari called it.

She focus on his hand which is gripping on the steering wheel lightly, a silver wristwatch she noticed he wears all the time complimenting his simple figure. For all she know, he is the most good looking guy she ever set her eyes on.

"It was." He replied. At the sound if his voice, Sakura look up at him, only to meet the deep black eyes of his.

She couldn't remember when she leans forward, but it was as if Sasuke's Honda Civic suddenly went so small that she has to close the gap between them. And before she even registered what was happening, she was kissing Sasuke Uchiha. If only her lips wasn't attached to that of Sasuke's, she might've screamed her lung out at such ridiculous thought. But its not ridiculous, because she IS currently kissing Sasuke.

The kissing start off in hesitancy, awkwardness and clumsy before they caught each others rhythm and it swiftly morphed into a passionate, aggressive and french. There is definitely tongue there as she grips on Sasuke's hair, tugging it softly. Sasuke makes a satisfy grunt behind his throat before he cups Sakura face as he pulls her already close face to his, kissing and kissing and kissing. Sakura keeps repeating it in her incoherent mind because eh, why not.

When the need of air finally overwhelm them, they pull apart resting their forehead against each other as they breath harshly from the aftermath of their kiss.

Eyes still close, Sakura smiles as she presses her lips on Sasuke's softly before she says, "Do you want to come up to my place?"

Sasuke snorted which confused Sakura. He eyes flew open and search for the onyx of Sasuke's, "What?" She asked.

"We're not sleeping together on our first date." He stated in a duh tone, still looking at Sakura.

To that, Sakura's eyes went wide, as wide as saucers, "N-No. T-thats NOT what I meant. I was asking you to come out for a drink or something. N-NOT for T-THAT." Sakura's hands were flailing in the air as if trying to emphasize her point.

She stopped abruptly when she noticed an amused smirk spread across Sasuke's face, "You're enjoying my awkward moment."

Sasuke shakes his head as he fix his position so his front is fully facing Sakura, "You're just so annoying."

He hold Sakura's chin in between his fingers and pull it closer to him as he captured her lips. When he pulls away, he spoke, "I'll come up on our second date. Or third."

Sakura grins teasingly at him, "Such chivalrous, Sasuke-kun." And then her eyes grew large, "Wait, we're going on second date? NO, did you mention third?"

He scoffed, "Can you stop being annoying." It wasn't even a question.

#ssm21 #ssm21d16 #AU #SasuSaku #SakuraHaruno #SasukeUchiha #prompt #drabble #kishillaa #kishillaawriting

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ygo-is-gayer-than-i-remember · 3 years

Text

Yugioctober Day 10: Chains

(Prompt list) (Read it here on Ao3!)

Summary: A rewrite of the finale of the duel between Yugi and Jounouchi on the Domino docks in a flareshipping-based alternate timeline.

As dire as the situation was, Kaiba was glad to finally get to release some of his pent-up adrenaline.

His intense concentration on the lethal duel between Yugi and a crazed, supposedly possessed Jounouchi was broken by the sound of helicopter blades whirring behind him. One of his own helicopters, thankfully pilotless, soared over the warehouses along the dock, making a beeline for the crane holding a huge metal crate precariously over a restrained Anzu. Seizing the opportunity, Kaiba followed the path of the helicopter, closely followed by the rest of the worried onlookers, to cut the man in charge of the crane off at the pass. With a well-thrown Duel Monsters card, a knee to the guard’s dick, and a few buttons pressed, they had Anzu free of her restraints just in time for the helicopter to smash into the arm of the crane and send them both careening into the water. Unfortunately, this only solved half of the problem.

On the adjacent dock, a clock was counting down to the moment when Yugi and Jounouchi, chained by their ankles to a huge anchor, would be dragged down to the bottom of the sea. Even from afar, Kaiba could hear Yugi making one of his stupid speeches about the power of friendship. It left a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He bolted back down the dock, really wishing he could run fast enough to cross the water on foot. Based on how the rest of the group was just as frantic as he was, they had all picked up on where this duel was going. Kaiba could see Jounouchi’s horrified face and the tears in Yugi’s eyes as he raced towards them. A second later, his worst fears were confirmed.

“I love you, Jounouchi,” Yugi said, and he turned the attack his trap card had absorbed onto himself.

Kaiba snatched his phone out of his pocket, still running. The lock on the box holding the key to Yugi’s shackles was automated, so there must be a way to hack into it. He could figure this out, he still had thirty seconds to--

“Red-Eyes Black Dragon! Attack me and wipe out my life points!”

Kaiba’s eyes widened as Jounouchi’s signature monster attacked him from Yugi’s side of the field. His life points dropped to zero, and a chain reaction was set off.

Yugi’s box opened to reveal his key, which was useless since Yugi was currently collapsed and motionless on the ground. Jounouchi had taken off the Millennium Puzzle that Yugi gave him and was moving to set it down when the timer, registering both life point scores void, skipped the rest of the way down to zero.

The anchor dropped.

Yugi’s limp form slipped into the water along with a frantically struggling Jounouchi who hadn’t had the chance to grab his key. The Millennium Puzzle he had been holding fell from his grip, bouncing off the edge of the dock and dropping below the surface. Out of the corner of his eye, Kaiba barely registered Jounouchi’s sister, Shizuka, rushing to where her brother had stood just a moment ago to snatch his key and dive in after him. Kaiba mirrored Shizuka’s path on Yugi’s side of the dock. Key in hand, he tossed his trench coat aside and jumped.

The water hit him like a slap to the face. He had to force himself to open his eyes and move his stiff limbs, motivated by the sight of Yugi’s multicolored hair just a few feet below and sinking fast. He kicked like a madman, the tiny teenager getting closer and closer until he was finally able to grab onto his shoulder and pull himself down to Yugi’s ankle. After making quick work of the shackle, he scooped Yugi under one arm and turned them around. He could just make out the silhouette of Jounouchi and Shizuka above them.

The four of them broke the surface with a collective gasp, and the two rescuers helped the duelists onto the dock. Honda was draping his jacket over Jounouchi’s shoulders the moment he was out of the water. Jounouchi seemed alright if a bit shook up, but Yugi was unconscious and shivering, his lips beginning to turn a terrible shade of blue. Kaiba heaved himself ashore and knelt by his side for a moment, one hand in front of Yugi’s mouth. Still breathing fine. Thank the gods. Kaiba got up to snag his discarded coat, bundling Yugi up in an attempt to keep him warm. He locked eyes with Anzu, who was checking Yugi for any visible injuries.

“Make sure he didn’t breathe in any water,” he ordered, then turned his back and disappeared below into the inky water again.

He could hear the baffled cries from above, but there was someone else still submerged who he had to save. He could see his prize far below, glittering in the tiny amount of sunlight that made it all the way down to the ocean floor. The Eye of Horus stared up at him from its place among the rocks.

Saltwater burned his eyes, the all-encompassing cold stabbing at his nervous system as he tried desperately not to focus on how long he had gone without air. Spots danced in front of his eyes. He kept going, instinct taking over on his quest to retrieve the Millennium Puzzle and the spirit of the ancient pharaoh that resided within it. Every kick and stroke of his arms sapped more of his strength, but he fought against exhaustion with every ounce of his being. He could feel his body failing as he watched his numb fingers curl around the gold pyramid.

Energy surged through him, pulsing in his veins like he had been infused with the blood of the gods. He gasped only to end up with a mouthful of saltwater that snaked its way down his throat and into his lungs and stomach. He needed air. With all the power left in his frozen, screaming muscles, he shot himself off the seafloor and towards the light.

His lungs greedily sucked up as much air as possible the moment he surfaced. The burst of energy was gone, replaced by fatigue so absolute he could barely tread water. He could hear Mokuba’s voice yelling at him and felt the pressure of hands wrapping around his arms and under his armpits and yanking him onto solid ground. The first thing he did was roll over and retch up all the seawater that he swallowed down below. The next thing he did when the world stopped spinning was look for Yugi and the Puzzle.

The chain attached to the Millennium Puzzle was wrapped tightly around his left hand, the polished gold winking at him in the sunlight from its place in Yugi’s hands. Yugi was awake. Trembling and exhausted and still wrapped in Kaiba’s coat, but awake. Kaiba flopped flat on his back, allowing himself to catch his breath.

“Kaiba…”

He cracked his eyes open to see Yugi staring at him. His violet irises reminded him of a clear summer twilight, stars just beginning to twinkle with the disappearance of the setting sun. He managed to flash Yugi an open-mouthed smirk.

Yugi’s eyes filled with fresh tears as he threw himself on top of Kaiba with his arms wrapped around his neck. He pressed his face to Kaiba’s chest, quiet sobs muffled by Kaiba’s sopping wet turtleneck. Kaiba rested a hand on the small of Yugi’s back and waited for him to calm down.

Seeing they were alright, the others decided to give them a minute and tend to Jounouchi and Shizuka. They had never seen the two duelists act so intimate before. Yugi’s friends were beyond confused from what he could tell, but by the knowing smile on Mokuba’s face, Kaiba was sure his little brother had a feeling where this might be going. Mokuba would keep the dweebs distracted long enough to say what he had to say, and it looked like Shizuka was more than willing to help based on how they were whispering to each other. Kaiba had to admire Shizuka’s tenacity and courage. She was a few years younger than him, not even in high school yet, and she had just finished healing from a major operation. Then the first thing she decided to do with her newfound sight was dive into the water and save her brother’s life. That took guts.

“Thank you,” Yugi whispered, bringing Kaiba back to reality. His tears had subsided into quiet hiccups.

Kaiba just nodded.

“Are you okay?”

Another nod. “Are you?” He grimaced at the way his voice croaked.

“Yeah, thank you…”

He shot a glance at the Puzzle now back around Yugi’s neck. “Is he?”

Yugi followed his gaze and placed a hand on the Puzzle. “He’s fine…Why did you…?”

“Because I need you, okay?” He shuddered at the prospect of laying everything out in the open, but the dam had broken and there was no going back now. “I need both of you.”

Yugi stared at him, incredulous. “I…what do you mean?”

He sighed and watched the clouds passing by, hoping maybe one of them had an easy answer. “Look, I’m not great with the whole ‘feelings’ thing all the time, but it’s been long enough now that I know you’re...important...to me. I thought I was feeling everything for you, but when you and the Pharaoh ended up being two people I was confused on if I felt it for you or him, and it wasn’t any easier to figure out with all the crazy 3,000-year-old black magic bullshit added onto it. Then I saw you duel today and I realized it’s both of you. Then you went and pulled that fucking stunt and I almost lost both of you and I just…” He took a long, shaky breath. “I can’t bear the thought of being without either of you.”

Yugi blinked up at him. “Kaiba…?”

“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? You’re supposed to be my greatest rivals and all I want to do is be around you.”

“Kaiba--”

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before and the first time ends up being with two people in the most unbelievable circumstances ever.”

“Kaiba--”

“And now I’ve just spilled my guts out after almost drowning for you two idiots and I--”

“Kaiba.”

Kaiba’s jaw snapped shut in response to the Pharaoh’s deep, regal voice. He met his eyes, now the color of ripe red grapes.

The Pharaoh smiled a sweet, gentle smile that gave Kaiba butterflies in his stomach. “We want to be around you too.”

Kaiba stared up at him before giving a slight nod and allowing the Pharaoh to rest his head back on his chest. The two of them laid like that for a minute, just listening to their breathing and their beating hearts.

“So, what now?” Kaiba asked.

The Pharaoh chuckled. “Well, let me begin by saying Yugi and I are very important to each other too.”

“I guessed as much.”

“And we both have...rather strong feelings towards you as well.”

“Hmph.” Despite his calm demeanor, he could hear his heart pounding in his ears.

“If you would...like to try--”

“Yes.” The speed of his response made his face heat up.

The Pharaoh’s laughter trailed off into a few weak coughs. “We would too. Perhaps we can discuss this more later when we are both in better spirits.”

“Mm.”

They finally struggled to their feet, their bones feeling like jelly, and wobbled their way over to the group surrounding Mai’s car. They already seemed happier than they had been a few minutes ago, and all of their faces lit up seeing the last two members of their party arrive. Mokuba tackled Kaiba in a hug and gave him another lecture about being a big dumb idiot while the nerd herd surrounded the Pharaoh to pass out hugs and pats on the back. Isono was waiting by the town car a few spots away.

“Kaiba?”

Kaiba turned to see the Pharaoh standing in front of him again, that infuriatingly gorgeous smirk on his face. He reached up to place a hand on the side of Kaiba’s neck and guide him down so they were almost at eye level. Slowly, very slowly, the Pharaoh placed a soft kiss on Kaiba’s cheek. It left behind an electric tingling that Kaiba hoped never went away.

As he moved to the other side, Kaiba could actually see the details of the transition between the two spirits. Garnet eyes became amethyst, features softened, and he had to lean over an extra inch so Yugi could give him a kiss on his other cheek. Yugi’s kiss almost tickled, like someone had brushed cool silk against his skin.

Yugi took a step back, turning to return to his friends. “I’ll call you, okay?”

Kaiba straightened back up and nodded. He ignored the way Yugi’s friends were staring at them like they had just grown five heads and turned purple. He didn’t care what they thought.

The sun was setting, a cool breeze was blowing, and Kaiba’s clothes were still soaked through. Yet, seeing Yugi’s bright smile as he walked away, holding onto the promise of seeing him again, seeing them both again in a way he hadn’t thought possible, his heart had never felt warmer.

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batarella · 3 years

Text

3 birds 1 stone - chapter 9

‘Dick, Jason, and Tim. Supposed brothers 'till the end, until all three fall in love with you. Who wins your heart?

The man who earned it, the man who stole it, or the man who always had it?’

A/N: The first part of this chapter includes the whole scene of how the reader lost her leg, and it does get pretty violent and explicit. I also have to warn that the cause of the accident can get pretty heavy and heartbreaking. This series, as it isn’t already obvious enough, is just about as frustrating and angsty as other love triangle stories there are.

WORDS: 11,923 WARNINGS: violence, building caught on fire, 3rd degree burns, bone fractures, survivor’s guilt, heartbreak, death

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST

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‘Falcon Saves the Commissioner’ ‘Gotham Times’

‘The long beloved heroine has stolen the hearts of many as the vast criminal ring in the undergrounds of Gotham City has once again been interfered. Commissioner James Gordon, who had been reported missing the past two days, was kidnapped from his own home by the masterminds of Harvey Dent and Oswald Cobblepot, also known as Two Face and Penguin respectively. The City of Gotham has been in the state of panic since reports first arrived and a search party taking place in different parts of the city.

However, hope has since been restored and the safety of Gotham no longer as compromised as the vigilante Falcon, with the help of her known crimefighting partner Red Robin, had swooped in and saved the Commissioner, who was held captive at the top of Gotham Plaza. Reports of the heroine literally flying to the rescue, with her trademark wings helping her glide all the way from the building opposite the scene of the crime, have astounded the citizens with her will and bravery.

The Commissioner has thanked the crimefighting duo for their rescue and has been released from Elliot Memorial Hospital Monday night. No severe injuries have been reported and he has since returned to work as the head of the Gotham City Police Department. Gotham has joyously thanked the heroes, especially the young Falcon, for their service to the citizens. They continue to patrol the crime-ridden city and have grown increasingly popular, with the people calling them the fearless heroes we don’t deserve.’

----

“You made the headline!”

Red Robin probably shouldn’t be on his phone reading some news article when two other things were happening right then. One, the runaway that was speeding so recklessly was down the wrong lane and would have definitely hit a few headlights if it hadn’t swerved and narrowly missed a few pedestrians, and that if you weren’t to catch them, it might mean another night of painfully waiting for another robbery to happen just to catch these fools. Two, none of your hands should have been free enough to hold a damn phone at all, not when you and Red Robin were heavily relying on a single grappling gun each to hold your weight, flying past the empty skyscrapers as if it were any leisure.

“Tim, put your phone down!”

“I’m serious!” You both reached a rooftop and already you were on the way to the next one. The car frantically swerved again, this time almost running into some pizza truck. “People love you.”

“Maybe because I’m the only bird in the family who actually has wings,” you snorted.

And at that, you lived up to your name.

You, the Falcon, grappled up a nearby tower and ignored Red Robin’s cry. You were fast, and in such little time you’d reached the top, the cold mist breezing your lips like newly melted ice rode up to your skin. And when you did, you let out your wings.

Then you soared.

Maybe if you weren’t in some high-speed car chase, you’d have closed your eyes and enjoyed the slow, stagnant hover, when you weren’t descending just yet. You’d either fly even higher up in the sky, your ears thanking you violently in the process, when you’d shift your wings and stay in this calm, where you weren’t moving up nor downward. It was then when you felt that peace, as if miles away from the nearest conundrum.

You tilted to the side when you felt that slow descent, and below, you saw Red Robin frantically trying to catch up with you.

You laughed, then dove down, right to where you saw the worn-out red car was heading for, at an intersection where dozens of other cars would have been hit.

You pressed into your communicator. “Tim. I think he’s heading for the docks.”

“I think this is a hoax.”

“You think their boss is trying to give us the goat they’d sacrifice?”

“Might be part of their plan to distract us.”

You shifted your wings, then you landed onto a rooftop rolling to keep your balance, then you were running, Red Robin at your side.

“We’ve got the lead. Wait for them by the boardwalk.”

“Copy.”

Red Robin went over to the fishing port, all the way over to the other end, and you jumped over the ledges, swung by a lamppost, and let your boots completely obliterate this shed’s skylight to break your fall. Knee on the ground, and the room you were in eerily silent, you peeked over the door to see what was outside.

They’d be here in a few seconds.

There. A post holding up the phone wires. You grappled up to the top, crouched over, and waited for the car to drive over to the corner.

And these idiots slowed down, thinking they’ve lost you.

At the sharp turn, you leapt off to the post as if gravity was nothing you’d fear. And with your boots, your wonderful, padded boots that made you jump over larger heights and not hurt even your toes when you landed so harshly, dented the car’s roof and you had to hold tightly onto the metal just so you wouldn’t be thrown off by the sudden swerve.

Then it was Red Robin’s turn. From over to the fishing port, his grappling gun fired right into the roof of the car, and it shattered the windshield right where the driver was at. Left. Right. Then Left again. The driver was going nuts, and you only had so much time. You took out the one at the passenger seat and Red Robin the driver. From out the side windows, you shattered the glass, pulled them out from their collars, and got out of the car just before it crashed into the boardwalk.

And it wouldn’t have been pretty, with it drifting off the slippery wood and not stopping until the vehicle finally fell over the edge onto its untimely death deep in the ocean floor.

By then, you had the two robbers flat against the drenched cement, faces to the dirt and their teeth forcibly gritting from how hard you were both holding them down.

“Fuck!” The one beneath Tim growled. “Alright, alright, you got us!”

“We surrender!”

“Then it shouldn’t have to hurt so much when you tell us who you’re distracting us for.”

“What?!”

You slammed the noisy one’s forehead against the road.

“You know what he means,” you whispered.

“We don’t know about no distraction!”

Red Robin got out his bo staff and pressed it against his skull, just enough to hurt his temple.

“I told you. It shouldn’t have to hurt so much. Doesn’t mean I won't do it.”

Your knee holding down his back, you pressed it harder down his spine until you heard a yelp.

“Talk!”

“I told you! We don’t know nothin’!”

“What don’t believe that.”

The one beneath Tim was shivering down his toes. “Some guy on the phone told us about the bank and promised us a car and some guns if we give him a cut! That’s all I fuckin’ know I swear- ah!”

Tim held his face further down against the ground.

“Does this guy on the phone have a name?”

“I don’t know! Swear! Seemed sketchy and all but who are we to pass up on a free car?!”

You looked at Tim. A distraction still seemed likely, otherwise whoever hired them would have just robbed the bank himself with his own goons instead of hiring some amateurs who thought that 1994 Honda they probably stole from a junkyard was something they couldn’t pass up on. That or their boss was even more stupid than they were.

You grabbed your guy by the neck, hauled him up, then growled to his ear.

“You must be stupid to think we’d believe that-“

“Piss off if you don’t!” He dared scream at you, then you rewarded him with a smack of your knee down the small of his back.

“Who hired you?”

“We don’t fucking know-“

“Falcon.”

Red Robin’s finger was up to his ear, and he was staring intently at the ground. Batman.

“We got our answer.”

“Oh,” you sighed. “No need for these guys then.”

“What the fuck do you mean -“

With one swift move, you grabbed them both by the hair and slammed their faces together, teeth clattering to the ground, and they lied unconscious. Tim went on to listen to Batman bark orders at him while you tied them up by the lamppost and called the police.

Tim nodded at you, pointing to his ear. You tuned in your communicator to listen to their line with Bruce.

“…About ten robberies staged. High and low profile. It gave Lynns and his men time to set fire to three fire departments all over Gotham…”

“Lynns?” you said. “Garfield Lynns?”

“Firefly.”

“I’ll send you all the coordinates. Signal, Black Bat, and Spoiler. You three handle the one in Bristol. Robin, Batgirl, and I will take Otisburg.

“Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and Falcon. You four handle the fire in Cauldron. The fire goes on for two blocks.”

“I’ll send you all the coordinates,” Batman told his team. “I expect a call afterward.”

His way of telling you all not to die, to promise him that you wouldn’t die, that you’d be alive by the end of it so he’d yell at you for an hour over the smallest things you missed.

You heard everyone voice out their nods at Batman, then you and Tim grappled up to the tallest portside shed nearest you, then you were heading for the coordinates.

“Looks like we’re alpha team for once!”

You felt your heart joyously leap when you heard that familiar voice. Cheery and bright. Already, you felt that rush to work even harder than you were expected to.

You pressed onto your communicator when you jumped across a narrow gap between two buildings.

“We’re not exactly team alpha, Nightwing.”

“Well. There are four of us. And we’re handling the biggest fire.”

“Batman’s always alpha,” you laughed. “Maybe he’s handling the most important fire.”

“You can't possibly think there’re arson cases more important than the others?”

“It depends on what’s on fire,” Tim interrupted, and you shot up a tower and let the air take you to what you could now see was a large black cloud in the distance, spanning across almost the whole avenue and growing as tall as a plaza-wide mushroom.

“I see it.”

“I see it, too.”

Another voice. Deeper. Muffled.

“You there, Red Hood?”

“Well, hey there, pretty bird.”

Even in the air, gliding between the concrete jungles of the city, you managed to roll your eyes beneath your mask. You could tell Tim let out a groan, which you heard from your communicator.

“It’s Falcon, you ass.”

“Nah,” Jason laughed. “I like pretty bird.”

“Falcons aren’t very pretty.”

“Yeah,” you heard Dick’s voice again. “But you are.”

The lack of response from both Jason and Tim’s line told you Dick had blocked them off just so he could say that.

Your feet landed onto the concrete of the building just a few more minutes away, and you had your lip too harshly bitten. Maybe it was from the impact on your soles. Maybe because that rush up your skin at Dick’s remark made you want to leap even further off the edge of that building.

You fled to the site. Jumping. Running. Gliding. And at the sounds of screams, sirens, alarms, you went faster.

Tim had caught up to you. Poor thing was panting, and he rushed up to your side.

Then Nightwing came into view, also running across the gaps of rooftops just a few yards away. Black and blue suit, still as light as day even under the moon’s not so generous shine. You smiled at him.

All the way over to the other side, on the roads underneath, you heard the harsh thunder of a motorcycle battling the cries of the uncontrolled flames. Red Hood wheeled up so he could drive past a blockage on the road, which you hadn’t known was from Flynns or the police themselves, but people were surrounding it, and at Jason’s warning, they made way for him to drive past the blockage, actually leaping with the vehicle in the air until his wheels slammed onto the cement.

You could do this. Two. Maybe even three blocks worth of fire.

If it weren’t from suspicion from a hallucinogen or some mirage from how large the fire had become, you could have sworn you saw three duplicates of Firefly, aiming their flamethrowers at the many windows of wood, stone, and steel.

“Firefly has goons now?”

“Seems so,” Nightwing said. “You guys got a plan?”

You and Tim stuck your grappling hooks onto the last rooftop’s ledge and jumped off the building. When you were on the ground, on the street right in front of the fire department that had your skin, eyes, and hair feel like it was burning down to your bones, Nightwing landed gracefully on your side, and Red Hood carelessly drifted on the road, jumping off his seat to join the rest of you and assess this rather difficult situation.

“There are people still in there,” Red Hood said. “I can see them.”

“We have to go save them first.”

“Firefly’s men-“

One of them, who had a fucking jetpack identical to the crazed pyromaniac’s, hovered over the four of you standing on the side of the road, and it was going for the next building.

“About fifteen civilians inside.” Red Hood finished his scan.

“I’ll save them,” you said. “The rest of you take care of those flies.”

“Absolutely not.” Nightwing’s voice was stern. Not something you wanted to argue with. “You need someone to go with you. None of us should be left alone.”

“I’ll go with her.” Red Robin, always your partner, stepped to your side. “We’ll take care of the people. You and Jason fight off those fireflies.”

Jason clicked his guns. “Promise I’ll play nice.”

Dick eyed Tim. A solid, knowing glance, then he turned to you.

“Be careful.”

“You, too.”

“Everyone.” Tim picked up his Bo staff. “Move!”

Your wings wouldn’t be of any use. Not when you’d have to work in a building aflame. Your wings weren’t very fireproof. So with your skintight, cape-less suit looking similar to Dick’s, you and Tim both flung yourselves up from windows and lampposts until you reached an entryway that didn’t burn you at first contact.

You scanned the place. There. A few rooms away. Two bodies huddled together. You went straight for the door until Tim grabbed you by the back of your suit and pulled you away.

Just in time, before a wooden beam from the ceiling came crashing down the burnt foundation, tearing a hole on the floor where you were standing just then. You stiffed. “Thank you.”

“I said be careful.”

Tim then expertly jumped over the beam, on top of the fallen debris that had fallen to the floor that wouldn’t crumble under his weight or would burn his palms when he pushed himself up, spinning in the air to get across the room. You followed right behind him. If you ignored the smoke you desperately tried to keep off your lungs or your skin about to be burnt off, it wasn’t so different from your vault back at home. You were faster, swifter. Your feet were off the ground for a few good seconds and the rush that went with your movements both cooled down your skin and made the fire around you worse. You caught up to him and soon you reached the end of the room seconds faster than he did.

Red Robin nodded, already trying to pry the door off its damaged hinges when he landed. You helped him.

“Dick-“ he grunted. “-taught you well.”

“Thanks.”

The door broke off, and you surveyed the room. The two bodies. Still breathing. But barely. You and Tim went up to them and he covered their heads with his cape.

“Come now,” you said, and you realized one of them must have been ten years old. He was shivering. The other, not much older.

You and Tim got them out of there and not a patch of their skin had to be burnt off. Hopefully, it’ll be the same for the rest.

Then you went in again. In that building alone, there were three more people inside.

Tim broke down a door with his foot, then you vaulted yourself up on beams to reach places Tim couldn’t, and you came out with a five-year-old girl in your arms. She’d been hiding under her bed. Not the brightest idea. But apparently, fire drills need to be done even at this age.

“Tim,” you coughed through the growing smoke. The poor girl was unconscious but breathing. You covered her head with Tim’s cloak. “Why are there so many kids?”

“Orphanage.”

You wanted to skin Firefly’s burnt flesh. Alive.

An orphanage just a block away from the fire department. And still, it was torn down in flames. You helped the kids out, then went on to the next building.

This one was burning so much more than the last.

The fireflies were here.

As you and Red Robin reached the window, the only available entryway, the wall to your left exploded from the other side and Red Hood broke down that very wall with his weight, landing on his back with the worst profanities that would even make Satan blush spurt out of his mouth.

“A LITTLE HELP HERE?!”

Tim got his staff, and as the menacing, horribly burnt creature flew into the room, a mock-up of wings strapped to his back and even more flames spurting out of his jetpack almost completely obliterating the floor underneath, you used what was left of the wall to your side, pushed both your feet against it so you were flying sideways, then your foot slammed on his head. With him stunned, Tim tore his staff right against his jetpack, unlatching it.

Then you flung it across the room so Jason could shoot at it, exploding before it even reached the ground.

“Where’s Dick!?” you asked.

“Third floor.”

Almost as if on cue, the ceiling above you collapsed, and with the boards and slabs of wood that fell through, a body landed painfully on its back. You ran to the site, looking up. Dick was there.

“Nightwing!” You screamed. “Be careful before you hit someone!”

“Sorry!” Then Dick disappeared.

“Where are the civilians?” you asked.

“Over there.” Jason pointed at a hallway. A quick scan told you the bodies were all over the place. In different rooms.

The windows behind you suddenly burst into flames and eventually detonated. You shielded yourself. Tim and Jason to the ground. When you turned around, another one of Firefly’s goons had their thrower pointed right at your face.

“Falcon!”

You leapt out of sight just in time, and you used the beams to fling yourself up, at the destroyed wall that had now let the colder air in.

A risk, but you took it valiantly. Just like a vault. Nothing different from a vault. You ran, hands to your side, let the wind take you. And you only wished the floor was stable enough, because wishing was all you could rely on. You ran. Then you flipped and your hands were to the floor, placing all your weight to your palms, spinning. Then it was your feet again.

Just at the last ledge, in your true gymnast fashion, your hands pushed you further up in the air, as high as any human could jump up to, then you spread your wings when you reached the peak and soared, right at the combatant that shot his eyes up at the sight of you flying straight at him.

You grabbed him by the throat, wings entangling with your own, then you were a flying mess in the air. His jetpack was already malfunctioning, and you directed it to land straight back to the floor where you came from.

But as soon as you got him back on the ground, the firefly had grabbed you by the shoulders and pinned you down so overwhelmingly strong, you needed Tim to smack his head and throw him all the way over to the floor.

“We can't handle these guys alone.”

“But-.”

“Even Jason here’s having a hell of a time.”

“Don’t worry,” Jason snorted. “I’m fine. I’ll try to hold these guys off. Go save everyone.”

He then shot the fly’s jetpack with his explosive bullets, and the light detonation threw him towards a wall.

“Jason!”

“He’s still fucking breathing!”

You panted, the surging nerves, the numbness of your fingertips still there. Jason took care of the fly and hauled him out of sight.

“Come on.”

You went to the rooms, broke down the doors and walls almost with just your foot alone. Two. Three. Four people. A college student. A lone middle-aged man. And in a room far too small for anyone to possibly, humanely live in, a single mother cradling her baby she didn’t even know was still alive. So close to having the smoke take over her lungs, you grabbed the baby with one hand, her arm over your shoulder with the other, then she limped with you as Tim held a small child in his arms, carrying them all out to safety.

The fire was getting worse, and from above, you heard Dick’s screams from being thrown around above you.

You won't have much time before this whole building gives out.

Then, just as you thought you’d cleared the last room, you heard a cry from one of another one of the rooms, the one at the farthest end that had no scans of a body just minutes ago. Now, you saw there was.

And the body was too small for you to notice the first time.

You turned up your scanners, really looked around, for anything else you might have missed. Anything small.

Shit. Another. To the other end of the hall. It looked like an adult, curled up in the corner of his room under a table. Why would he hide under a table in a fucking fire!?

“Falcon!” Tim came up to your side. “You see anyone else?!”

“One there. And another on that side. Let’s take that one first,” you nodded at the door with the child behind it.

“No. There’s no time.”

You both dodged a piece of a ceiling that had fallen in just a foot away from where you stood. Dick. Being mauled too close to death just above you.

“I take him,” Tim said. “You get the child.”

“Tim, I’m not going to leave you alone.”

Another piece of wood from the ceiling. Gone. The wall near you had burnt to a crisp, which made it hurt less when Jason was flung to the ground by another firefly just where the wall used to be.

“We don’t have time to come back for both.”

“And if we don’t, we die!” you said. “I can't leave you alone, Tim.”

“Everyone should be saved. I’ll be fast, then I’ll be right there with you. I promise.”

Tim pushed you to the door, and already he was on the way to the end of the hall. “Be careful!” he screamed at you. With your fists clenched, hoping this wouldn’t backfire on him anytime tonight, you rushed for the child.

“You fucking mosquito son of a bitch!” Jason yelled as his guns went into this uncontrollable frenzy. All over the walls, the floor, anywhere. Just so he’d finally put that flying bastard to the ground. It shot its thrower at Red Hood’s face and so narrowly did he dodge the flames.

He rolled on the ground, eyed the attacker like it was a bomb to defuse. Another shot from his flame thrower, just one good shot, and there will be no other way for him to turn to but even more fire, and it’ll possibly collapse the whole room.

So Red Hood shot at his gun, at his arms. Finally, he got it to drop the weapon to the ground.

Jason grabbed the firefly by the throat as soon as he’d shot down his jetpack, and he flung him across the other side of the debris to trap him, the barricades, to the hallway of rooms where you’d gone into. He stays there long enough and he’d definitely catch on fire. And even if it didn’t, he needed it to be kept away. There were more flies for him to take care of. And they were, quite literally, flying towards him like moths.

A thud, coming from the ceiling above.

Up a floor, Dick wasn’t handling it any better.

Nightwing smashed his escrima sticks against a firefly’s temples, then gave it just enough voltage to stun him. He kicked him off his body, smashing his back against the already charred wall that broke upon impact, but it didn’t take him down. Not yet. Just his ability to fly.

The firefly stood up, snarling much like an animal, then clicked his thrower to point it at Dick. He was leaping, swiftly and gracefully around the smoke-infested debris just to not get burnt.

Dick was finally close enough to grab him by the collar, flinging it over his shoulder, smashing his body against the weakening ground.

But the firefly was too strong, and not long after, he had Nightwing choked to the floor. He had him held down. Dick landed a hit to his face, or what he could see of his face through the mask, then the firefly hit him back. Another. Another. Each time, the floor started to break underneath.

Outside, all alone because he insisted, Tim had safely made his way through the flames.

Always. Every night, by your side. You never left it. Not when it meant his life. Tim was outside, cape to his nose, and he left the building so he could take the nearly unconscious man to the safety grounds away from the smoke. But when he’d come back, pieces of wood had fallen in the hallway where you’d go into and had barricaded the way. You were on the other side. He’d left you alone.

Alone, amid the worst fire you’ve ever had to work through, you coughed out even more of the smoke, tears in your eyes, then broke down the last door in three slams against your shoulder. You were weak, flailing, your chest twisting at the heat and the smoke. But you do not fall. Instead, you push yourself further. Harder.

But it wasn’t anything at all you thought you could handle. You didn’t think you’d be alone in the room where the fire had started. The epicenter. The one so fully engulfed, there was almost no place at all for you to walk on.

You grabbed the child’s unconscious body. He might have been dead by then. He felt lifeless. But as you were on your knees, you almost could not stand. Your weight was too much, and the fire too close to your skin. For a moment, when the pain in your throat and chest came to the very worst, your body started to give out.

At that moment, three things happened. Three things that should never, ever have happened at the same time.

One of the fireflies, the one Jason had thrown right at you and had trapped behind the barricaded debris, picked himself up and saw you from out the hallway. You heard him growl despite the scorching flame.

The ceiling, already so charred, broken, burnt, mists of wooden shards falling right down to your hair. The fighting that went on upstairs was causing it. You couldn’t stay there long. You had to get out before the ceiling collapses. Fast.

And, on top of all that, with the fire that grew worse, your chest twisting, a child almost lifeless in your hands, you were alone. No one was there to help you.

You gained enough consciousness to push the last of your strength. You could do this. You knew you could. If you could just hold on a bit longer, with the child in your arms, and go out the same way you came in, it’d be fine.

But just as you pulled yourself up your feet, the firefly was lunging straight for you.

The child was dead. A boy of six. You were sure of that when something so much larger and stronger than you, that very man who no longer looked like a man, who looked more like a burnt corpse dressed as a moth without wings, lunged at you and grabbed you by the neck. You dropped the child’s body, and the way its limbs were so twisted when he hit the floor, it almost hurt as much as when you were slammed against the wall.

Flashes of red, white, yellow, and even black, the color that scared you the most when it came to circumstances like these, it was all you could see past the gritted teeth that exposed themselves so horribly to you when his mask had been taken down. He was wounded, yet he had the strength to do this, to squeeze your throat so rigidly that in the matter of a few minutes, at least to you, it lasted a few minutes, you were as blue as the night sky. A horrible color when it came to skin.

You wanted so badly to scream, but even if you did, it wouldn’t be of any use. You were alone. And with so much holding you back from just being able to breathe, you couldn’t hear a thing. Not your limbs squirming about, not the man holding your throat crying to let out the smoke from his own lungs, not the fire nor the collapse of the walls. No one had found you yet, and your bones and muscles alike had barely enough will in them to do so much more than just flailing so meagerly. Your lungs, your neck, your throat. It wasn’t enough that you were choking on smoke and debris, his clutch on your flesh gripped on as if none of the flames had any sort of effect at all.

Then.

Then there was the ceiling.

Whoever was up there, he was getting beat up. Hard. And it was making it break even worse. You felt the wood’s dust fall to your eyes. You had to move out of the way, but you couldn’t. No one to help you. No one to help you flee.

Just before that horrific flashes of black and surprisingly inviting, riveting flashes of white overcame everything else your eyes could still pick up, just before that tightening in your neck became less of a pain and felt more of a descent, a slow, painful descent, it all stopped.

You could see color. You could see the flames. The charred wood. The scattered cement from the walls. You could hear it all again. That scorch. That rage. The screams from the onlooking civilians. And the pain was gone. You could breathe. There wasn’t a hand on your throat any longer.

And it all lasted not more than a second. Half of it. A quarter of it even. Still, you felt it, not knowing it might have been your last.

The ceiling above you collapsed.

So did the wall you were being slammed against.

Huge slabs of wood, beams for support, floorboards from the level above, it all came crashing down as if apologetic for the delay, because they weren’t unforeseen. They were expected. You just didn’t get to move away in time.

It hit the firefly’s head the second the first slab tumbled down, and the rest of it followed. With how you fell, and the wall behind you breaking as well, your back was on the floor. But that wasn’t what hurt. Not even a little.

No.

Not when a sizable wooden beam in flames, one that held up the ceiling before it collapsed, fell in and crushed the bones of your leg.

You’d never forget it.

You never thought it was possible for there to be so much pain, not even when it was necessary. And a lot of the time, all the time, in fact, it was necessary. This time, it must have been. It must have been for a purpose. To defeat a foe. To save a life. It had to be.

Because the way that immeasurable weight hit your shin, breaking your tibia in half and twisting it in a way that was far too horrific for any onlooking eyes, you saw it. You saw everything. And God, have you never seen anything so horrifying before.

Then the flames from the beam had spread to your leg. Your suit. Your flesh. That, you felt for a short, agonizing few seconds.

Then, the pain from the burn completely disappeared. Your skin had gone.

Your scream right then, a deathly, ghostly scream, was the worst thing that could have ever heard in your life.

And that scream was what saved you. Otherwise, no one would have known you were there.

Otherwise, not Red Robin, Nightwing, nor Red Hood would have found you, even when it was far too late.

“FALCON!”

“Y/N!”

“NO!!!”

-----

Even in such a drug-induced, near unconscious state, you were aware.

Even with your eyes closed, and your brain playing lighter, less heartbreaking scenes for you to go over in your sleep, you were aware.

Even with everything being nothing more than a blur, the sounds, the lights, the chattering included,

Somehow, you were aware.

You were aware enough to know you’ve been here, on this very bed, for more than a week, and that since then, you haven’t opened your eyes, much less muttered even a syllable for anyone to hear.

You were aware that there were people around you. Sometimes just one, two, mostly three. Three men? Unclear. Often, lots of times, there were more. Different color hair. Different voices. Some sweet. Some deep. Some roughed up and husky. Some nothing more than a whisper.

All of them bearing the same guilt, pity, sadness.

You were aware things weren’t looking so good. Not with a cast over your neck, when you couldn’t even turn to your side when the bruises hurt as much as a tight squeeze. And because of that, when you did manage to open your eyes to some extent, you couldn’t see what went on below your waist.

And judging from what you could see on the ceiling, the murmurs around you, the occasions when you could see the looks on the visitors’ faces, straps holding up your elevated leg, you knew it couldn’t possibly be what you’d expect.

You weren’t awake yet. But you knew where you were. You were aware of what happened. Sometimes you could hear the voices so clearly you felt so close to just talking back. But that couldn’t be, because you were unconscious.

Damn everything.

Damn it all.

Why couldn’t you just be asleep enough to not witness any of this at all?

The last thing you saw, before your eyelids were weighed down by some unimaginable force, was the slightly matted window on the door where you saw Tim’s head facing his brothers’. They were talking.

You couldn’t hear what they said.

But if you could, it wouldn’t have made things at all better.

Tim couldn’t keep his eyes away from you, looking into that window to save his own life and watching you get lost in this illusion of peace, this illusion that taught the people around you that nothing was screaming at all, when in fact you hadn’t stopped screaming since that beam fell. He saw the cast, no longer the shape of a foot, and it hurt all the more to keep seeing it absorb itself into reality.

Jason was right beside that door. He visited just as much as the rest of them. Them being Tim and Dick. But he couldn’t look at you. Not for a second. He hasn’t even turned his head at your direction for more than what he needs to. And he rarely needed to, so he pressed his back against that white wall and let his weight slump him down. He hasn’t talked much. He hasn’t spoken at all.

Dick stood in front of the two, facing the door. He had his arms up to hug his chest. He did not sleep. Not for many nights. He was as bad as Tim now. His once so mesmerizingly bright eyes now stared so dimly and emptily at the white paint, he must have thought to say something, anything, to let out what everyone was thinking right then.

But instead of a word, the first word that day, he ended up catching Jason’s eyes, who glared back the minute he caught Dick watching him for too long.

“The fuck you looking at?”

Dick shook his head, then he let his attention get drawn away yet again by the floor.

“Fuck,” Jason mumbled, then his hand was too harsh on his hair. “Fuck this. I’m tired.”

Dick scoffed at that. “Go ahead. Go home and disappear for three weeks.”

“I meant that I needed to sleep after staying up the past thirty hours, shithead.”

He didn’t face Jason despite him and his nerves popping out of his skin like he desperately wanted to squeeze his eyeballs out of his sockets.

Tim, on the other hand, didn’t even do so much as look at his brothers when he heard them bicker. He just stared at you, how silent and peaceful you looked. Still unknowing.

“How…” Tim swallowed. “How did we let this happen…”

Jason watched the dark corner of the opened supply closet nearby. Dick turned his head the other way, eyes seemingly closed as he listened to the cart being wheeled right past them. That, the scent of ethyl alcohol, the chilling white paint, the flush of cold, and the beeping sound coming from somewhere down the hall, it was all anyone could sense, especially when in so deep in thought.

“We should have… I should have-” Tim finally brought himself to look away from the window. “I should never have let her out of my sight-”

Dick pulled on his shoulder. “Tim-“

“Don’t tell me it isn’t my fault.”

“But it isn’t your fault.”

“I said don’t tell me that!”

He swatted Dick’s hand away and placed his deep into his hood where no one would be able to touch him.

“You think that, too,” Jason chewed on his cheek. “Don’t you Dick?”

“Don’t I what?”

“Blame him?”

He was probably so close to just lunging at Jason just then but he didn’t. Not here. Dick just snarled at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You do,” Tim said. “I know you do. You look at me and Jason like we’re poison.”

Jason shrugged. Dick didn’t know what to say. “Like you two don’t look the same at me.”

“Admit it,” Jason stood from the wall. “You blame us for what happened.”

“I never fucking said that,” Dick growled.

“Good,” he said. “Because so do I.”

“You blame us?”

Jason had his teeth gritted so much they would have broken.

“We all blame something. It’s too hard to admit. But none of us should have to,” Tim whispered. “It was an accident.”

“An accident that wouldn’t have happened if not for us.” Dick chewed on his knuckles, and Jason stood taller, sighing and raising his hands like this ‘point proven’ sort of gesture.

Tim looked back at you again.

“She’ll never forgive us.”

“She wouldn’t have to,” Jason said. “She’ll blame herself.”

“That makes this even harder,” Dick hissed when his teeth dug into his flesh too much. “She has to blame us. At least. It’ll be better for her.”

“Maybe she should be blaming us because we are to blame.”

The silence that followed after was sharp enough to cut glass. Tim grabbed all the hair in his head and pulled, grunting, hissing, gritting his teeth, letting the tears slowly seep.

“Tim-“

Tim laid against the wall. He wasn’t as tired as the two. Staying up for two days wasn’t so much as a change for him. So he had the energy to cry, while Dick and Jason could barely hold themselves up, no matter how much they looked like they wanted to break down themselves.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Tim held his head. “I let this happen to her. I left her alone-“

“Tim, you have to stop-“

“Are you convincing him that it wasn’t his fault, Grayson?” Jason stammered. “Or are you talking to yourself?”

“Jason, will you just shut up-“

“You wanna live in this delusion?” He cried. “Go ahead. But you're not doing anything better for him.”

“I am trying to make sure our brother doesn’t beat himself up for something he didn’t do

“And what do you know about what he did? You weren’t there. You were all the way up on the third floor not having a clue what went on.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Todd?”

“You know what. I’m saying this,” he raised his arms and turned from Dick to Tim, then back again. “I’m done keeping silent. That beam fell on her leg because you were up there making the goddamn ceiling fall in.”

“You son of a bitch-” Dick pushed Jason’s chest.

“She even told you to be careful up there,” Jason said. “You didn’t listen.”

“What the fuck do you want from me?!”

“So you’d know you’re not the only one who knows all that.”

“And why is that, huh?” Dick stood him off, chin up high. “Why’d you bring that up? To lighten the weight on your chest? Tell yourself it wasn’t just your fault and that fucking firefly you threw right at her?”

Tim had been silent since Jason mentioned the wooden beam, but by then, his face had shot up and he was staring at the two squaring off.

“You might as well have handed Y/N right into his clammy hands. You threw him over that barricade he couldn’t escape from. Right after you told her you’d keep them off.”

Jason looked like he could break stone with the ghostly look he gave his brother.

“I didn’t fucking know she was there.”

“Then where else would she have been? You told her to save everyone in the building. And you knew she and Tim needed your help keeping them off.”

Jason shoved Dick in the chest. “You don’t think I fucking know that you-“

“Wait.”

Tim’s voice stayed soft, though it was solid. When he looked up at his brothers, faces flushed and just as full of shame as it was so full of rage for the other, Tim stuttered.

“You two caused this to happen?”

What should have been apologies, or mutters, reasons, excuses, fights to be right again, convictions for their truths, perhaps even lies, Dick stared back and his mouth fell shut. Jason got his hands off him, placed them on his sides. He was silent, too.

“Why didn’t I know about this?”

For once, Jason looked at Dick and it wasn’t so murderous.

“Dick-“

His big brother. The one closest to him. He should have been the one to tell him everything. He might have expected this from Jason. But not Dick.

But they had the same silence, the same guilt-stricken, awfully dark, hooded eyes.

Dick started. “You didn’t… You…” He looked around to make it easier. “You were taking all this harder than the rest of us.”

“Clearly, so should you!”

Tim has never raised his voice before. That wasn’t even much of a scream. But his voice cracked, and there were tears at the ends of his mouth.

“Tim-“

“I thought I was the only one to fucking blame,” Tim stammered. He wouldn’t say this. Not when he was calm. Not when it didn’t involve you. He was always so quiet. The one at the corner finding a place to take a nap. Not the one to accuse. To point fingers. To lash his anger out on others.

“I almost went fucking insane the past week. Now you tell me you two were the root of it all?”

This shouldn’t have to be what he felt. This was just his own guilt taking control. He wouldn’t burden others with such blame to lug around.

“Listen, I-“

“The beam that fell, and that fucking goon that held her down from escaping-“

“Tim, it still would have been a hell of a lot better if you were there,” Jason said.

“If you weren’t there at all, none of this would have happened!”

“Oh!” Jason cried. “Okay. It’s all my fault because I did exactly what was agreed on by the team while you left her alone when she shouldn’t be?!”

“Jason -“

“Everyone knows Y/N almost never leaves your side in combat. She always had you. She was better as your protector, which means she’ll never willingly leave you alone.”

Tim’s tears had fallen to his chin. It was too much out of his control. Too much out of anyone’s control.

“I swear if you don’t shut up right fucking now-“

“You’ll what, Grayson?!” Jason pushed Tim aside and eyed Dick down. “Fine. Blame me. If it does you any better, salvage whatever light she’ll see you in, give you more of a fighting chance with her, huh?”

Dick never looked so badly like wanted to tackle Jason to the ground. He never told Jason about you. He shouldn’t have known, but of course, he knew. “You can't possibly allow her to look at you like you cut off her fucking leg-“

Tim was giving Dick that same look. Dead. He was dead to him.

“This has nothing to do with that-“ Dick pushed him back.

“You caused that fucking beam to fall that snapped her bones and burnt off her flesh-“

“Because that fucking firefly you lead to her held her down! She could have escaped!”

“I told you-“

“You didn’t know where she was?!” Dick cried. “She wasn’t anywhere around you. She only could have been in one fucking place. Behind the barricade. In the apartments. You knew she was there. Maybe you thought you killed that firefly when you threw it off. Maybe you thought it wouldn’t reach her. Or, maybe, you just didn’t care. You didn’t think about how she’d be able to handle it. And even if it did cross your mind, you probably thought she could fight it off on her own!“

“Don’t you fucking tell me what I thought in the middle of a fucking fire.”

“Then don’t patronize me ‘cuz I didn’t have fucking pillows around when I got mauled by a bug and not break the ceiling! Or Tim for thinking saving a life was worth risking their own!”

“WELL THEN, I hope you two think it was fucking worth it.” Jason pointed at the window, at the sight of you so motionless on the bed.

“If I didn’t know how much of a pain in the ass you are when your guilt is eating you up, Jason-” Dick stuck his finger against Jason’s temple and he pushed it aside. “I wouldn’t let you hear the end of this.”

“Is this a threat, Grayson?”

“Do you want it to be?”

“Dick, stop-“

“Stay out of this, Tim.” Dick pushed him aside, and Tim shoved him back even harder so he’d hit the wall. Even Jason looked surprised at him.

“I’m not a kid, Dick.”

Even more so would they have fought, right in that very hallway in Elliot Memorial, if not for Bruce Wayne stepping out of the room, only in his sweats, and he shot every single one of them the dirtiest look.

He blamed himself, too. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here so much. Not when you weren’t one of his adopted kids, not when he had to sit in that room for hours with your own parents nearby, crying, wondering what happened, not having a clue who their daughter even was.

This wasn’t the first time. Even when you weren’t his child, it was the same as when Babs got shot in the spine.

He never let himself hear the end of it. Bruce blamed himself.

Bruce blamed himself for ever trusting Dick, Jason, and Tim to make sure you’d be ok.

“She’s awake.”

The three of them stood still, staring back at Bruce who couldn’t give them a colder look. One so full of hidden resentment, one he tried to hide. But it was all clear, even from those two words alone. He might as well have spelled it out for them.

‘You are all to blame. All three of you. Even if just one of you wasn’t so careless, this wouldn’t have happened.’

He might as well have said that. He should have said that. They needed that kind of reality being thrown right at their denial. They needed that push.

When he left, already it had shifted.

They were going to have to face you now, actually look at you in the eye, and you wouldn’t have to be told. You already knew why this all came to be. There wouldn’t be any use in an argument, evidence, technicalities, bickering. All that shoving and yelling. It’ll all be for nothing.

Because at the end of the day, no matter how much the brothers wouldn’t want to accept this kind of spilled blood anywhere near their skin, it’ll always be true. The only person they blame the most, more than the others, will always be themselves.

Dick, for not even thinking of being so careful with the collapsing floor, even after you told him to. He should have taken it to the second. Maybe on the street.

Jason, for letting that firefly loose, because he was too confident you’d be able to handle it on your own.

And Tim, for not just letting you go alone, but insisting that he not go with you even when you pleaded. Because he thought he’d stop at nothing to save as many lives. He didn’t think about you.

Being in the midst of fire won't cut it.

Dick broke the silence first.

“I’m sorry…”

Tim and Jason couldn’t look at him. Jason faced his own feet. Tim at the door. His face was soft. No longer so rageful.

Tim spoke next. “I’m sorry, too.”

This was about as much affection, affection as it was, that they’d ever shown each other. Jason tried to brush it off by rolling his eyes, keeping his face out of view so no one would see his face trembling.

“Yeah… sorry…”

This was all there is. Guilt.

They can blame whoever they want. It’ll all stem back to their own self-blame that was chipping their flesh away like maggots.

Tim took the first step to the door, heading into the room, and Jason and Dick followed right behind him.

They couldn’t go anywhere near you. Not like this. Not even when they were the boldest. They couldn’t. The cowards they were stood the farthest, lined up a few feet away from the foot of your hospital bed.

They couldn’t possibly face you, not when just minutes after you’d woken up, already your cheeks were soaked and your cries eerie and painful. Your eyes were swollen, neck held back with a cast.

Barbara held you in her arms. Barbara. Of course, it would be Barbara. The only one in the family who knew what it was like to wake up in a hospital and so suddenly lose a bodily function, something so simple as to walk, and not be able to do it just like everybody else. Not being complete anymore. Not be whole.

She was a few of the lucky ones to find that clinic in Africa that gave her that implant. You, on the other hand, probably won't be so lucky.

You. You woke up in that bed, and you didn’t have to hear anything from their conversation outside. You knew exactly what they talked about. You were aware. You didn’t have to hear any part of it or even see the expressions they bore.

That moment you sat up, just enough so you could see just how much damage had been done.

Your right leg had burns. Red marks, scattered all over your skin and ones you knew wouldn’t heal so lightly. You’re to see them for the rest of your life, and you’ll never escape it. The burns went all the way down your toes.

But not even that worried you. You couldn’t care any less about your skin. At least, you actually still had toes on your right leg.

The left one.

The left leg.

You didn’t have one anymore.

You had two thighs.

You had two knees.

One shin, one calf behind it.

Five toes at the end. Burnt as they were.

And the other.

Nothing. Air.

A stub. A useless, ugly stub, sticking out just three inches from your knee. You couldn’t even feel it sting, not when you could obviously see just how much had to be cut off.

Then.

You screamed again.

From a few feet away from the foot of your bed, Tim was in tears, wanting so badly to come to your aid and hold you. Jason looked smaller, despite being the tallest in the room. Right then, he shrank himself from the shame. And Dick. He was shaking. For once, he didn’t know what to do.

Barbara’s soft arms held you so tight, but none of it could muffle your cries.

-----

Could one blame you?

If they’d just known the whole story?

Even after two years, two horrible, spectacular, overly eventful years that passed by all too slow and too fast,

Even after you’d gotten over the nightmares that came and went when you couldn’t sleep without feeling that flame surge past your flesh,

Could you even blame yourself? For not knowing who to trust? To open up to?

Could anyone blame you for being so god-awfully confused, now that you admit to being confused, and so indecisive? For not knowing what, or who would bring you to that eventual happiness?

Could anyone blame you for wanting some kind of release to let all this go, and find that release as yet another option to oblivion? Could you blame yourself for being so desperate, stupid, so careful, just to allow yourself to move on, at the same time convince everyone else that you had?

The only thing you had for yourself after all that were your paints and canvases. They could only have done so much.

But now, with you in front of the Wayne Manor’s staircase fixing up the last of your canvases on a presentable easel, it had gradually felt like it was, in fact, enough.

Tonight, at almost six in the evening, you’d set up twelve of your newest works, the best you’ve ever made. Gotham skylines. Portraits of unknown faces. Hillside landscapes. Action shots you’ve taken from around the city and copied.

You fixed the last one, just as Bruce came up to the foyer with an outstretched smile the moment he saw what you’d fixed. That man rarely smiles.

He eyed them all, more carefully this time, paying attention to detail. You explaining those details when he didn’t catch them. You explaining each of your pieces. Him nodding approvingly.

“This will be a great for everyone, Y/N.”

A smile. “Thank you.”

“And it’ll be amazing for the children most of all.” Bruce kept his eyes on the portrait of an unknown woman with beautiful dark skin. “Will you really give everything away?”

“Everything,” you said. “I won't keep a cent. This is what the auction’s for.”

Bruce beamed at you with so much pride, probably just as much, maybe even more, than he’s given his own children.

Not long after, he left and had Alfred help you out with putting everything back in your satchel. You were smiling. You hadn’t stopped smiling for a while.

You placed the first easel and canvas back into the bag that you’d laid in the staircase just as you heard rumbling footsteps coming from directly above. And just as you thought they’d get nearer, they stopped.

You looked up, and it wasn’t anything you hadn’t expected, nor prepared for.

Dick, however, looked surprised in the least. His hand on the railing caressed the gentle wood as well, motionless the moment he caught your eye. You were calm, serene, and somehow, that smile didn’t even leave when you met his gaze.

His mouth parted open, and by then you didn’t want to just stand around. You nodded at Dick, silently, then you went back to the second easel.

“This dastardly thing,” Alfred muttered. You laughed and started to walk over to him, if not for Dick and his strides longer than yours.

“Here, Alf.” He helped the old man with the knob. It folded right away. Alfred rolled his eyes. “I can take it from here,” Dick said.

Alfred raised his hands, landing harshly at his sides. “I never could work any of those contraptions.” You found yourself feeling warmer at that sight of how gently he’d helped him and handled the knobs. You worked in silence. He did, too. He did not speak. Neither did you.

But even after such a high-strung chain of events, and the drastic way it all had to culminate, with you right back to where you started, there wasn’t at all a feeling of torment, awkwardness. Sure, it wasn’t all the same. You weren’t as close. The laughs felt a bit off. You didn’t hold his hand anymore and maybe you didn’t let your gazes linger for too long when he was so brightly lit by the sun or even just a single bulb. But you were friends. You were there. It was more, so much more, than how it could have ended.

You twisted the knob for the last easel, crouching down, but the base wouldn’t stop hiking up from the ground. You pulled your hair back, squinted, then as a shadow blocked your light, you looked up. Dick was there. He was smiling at you and he held the top of the easel down so it wouldn’t move when you unhooked the knob.

You smiled at him. Softly. Sweetly. He smiled back at you and it kept with the current of that growing peace. He held the easel, and you the canvas, when you went over to your satchel to stick it inside.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You placed the satchel at the side of the staircase, away from the steps. Dick watched you with his head down intently. Then when you made your way up, hand on the railing, you heard him speak just when you thought he had nothing else to say.

“I’m watching Bruce Almighty tomorrow morning.”

You turned to face him, and that bashful grin made you want to chuckle. You allowed yourself to.

“I’d love to join you.”

Another nod, silent, then you went up the stairs. You heard him go to the parlor.

Peace. This must be it. Peace.

Four months of peace, since any other incident happened. This was what you needed. Time to think. A chance to know what things were, what you were.

Because all there was that replaced that hurricane beneath your chest was this bright, breezy whirlwind that instead cooled down those very thoughts.

You reached Tim’s room, knocked three times, and stepped in immediately taking off your sweater.

Tim was leaning against the headboard and had his laptop resting uncomfortably on top of his lap.

“Tim,” you groaned. “You're not working are you?”

“Nah. Among Us streams.”

You snorted and picked your phone out of your pocket, scrambling to his side. Tim shifted, giving you some room, then when you settled beside him, he laid his head on your shoulder. He kept his eyes on his laptop and you made sure he didn’t change so much as a tab. Four months of seeing his sleep schedule back on track, his coffee a tenth from before, and his workload split in half, it calmed you to see him this way. It even made his skin glow.

As he kept his eyes on the screen, you pulled out your phone, with that expected twinge of disappointment when you saw you haven’t a message, the same for so many weeks.

You opened your texts anyway, just to make sure.

You: ‘Hey. It’s been a while. Call me?’ (12 weeks ago)

You: ‘Jason. It’s me. You didn’t change your number again, did you? (11 weeks ago)

You: ‘I guess you did. I’ll keep texting anyway. No one’s heard anything from you in so long.’ (9 weeks ago)

You: ‘Hey. Call me? We heard it got bloody in that raid yesterday. I hope you're alright.’ (6 weeks ago)

You: ‘Hey.’ (2 weeks ago)

That was it so far. You didn’t want to bother him. He didn’t want to be bothered.

But, just today, you let yourself annoy him. Even for just that day in August.

You: ‘Happy birthday, Jason.’

Peace. With everyone. With yourself.

You needed those months to know what it was like to not have any of them at all. To just be a friend. Not a lover.

You let your head fall on top of Tim’s.

A few hours later, you jumped at a ring on your phone. You glanced at it, eyes squinted. It was almost midnight.

Jason: ‘Thanks.’

So much of a smile, and a gentle spike up beneath your chest, when you stared at that message for so many minutes. Partly to let that warmth linger. Mostly out of surprise.

Peace.

You knew there was peace.

But peace did not mean fulfillment.

You still couldn’t tell anyone what you needed, what would hurt less, what choice you were supposed to make.

Because it wasn’t about that anymore.

This was you. This was time for yourself. Four months of not even pining or thinking about boys, working on your pieces, not mulling over your unrequited love or your broken heart or your broken memories or that sheer memory of what happiness used to mean to you. You never needed that. It was you, and every unfortunate event that life had forced into you, that made you so confused.

You still couldn’t make a choice right now, but you weren’t confused anymore. It wasn’t about what you needed, and you didn’t need any of them. Those four months told you so.

But you did want to have love. Eventually. Soon. One that lasts.

Eventual happiness, the ones that can only come from loving and being loved by another, from family, you knew could only be found within them. Dick, Tim, and Jason. You knew it was one of them. For so long as you could think, you knew you couldn’t find that kind of happiness elsewhere. You couldn’t imagine loving another.

Which means, with the peace you had in you now, calming the once tyrannic tides you’ve been forced to reckon with, you knew your heart was there, with one of them. The challenge will be to find out who.

And from now on, you knew you had to choose, and actually think about who to choose, and no longer will it be about whoever lessens the pain, to give in to pressures, to the overwhelming declarations, the to release that pent up whatever’s. This time, in your state of peace, you will figure out who you loved and will stay in love with for the rest of your life. Solely. Wholeheartedly.

You will choose for love.

No longer to just go with the tides.

The tides, you realized, had been there since that very night. That night you had to get your left leg amputated because so much of your flesh had been burnt and your bones were beyond repair.

The tides, you realized, had stemmed from not just your hatred for yourself, for that blame that inevitably crowded your already populated mind, but had stemmed from their guilt. All three of them, because of how much they blamed themselves and how much they let it destroy them just as much as it destroyed you. Because of that, of how they let their resentment for each other and themselves get the better of them, drive them to do so many things they wouldn’t be so proud of, which made that start of the year so hellish. It was all of you. Your anguish for yourself. Their resentment for their self-blame.

Dick not knowing how to treat you right after, treating you differently, treating you like you couldn’t care for yourself. Almost getting married, then later not. Spending too much time with you, then not making a move. You assuming what was worst, then so suddenly, him pouring out his heart just before he was asked to leave town and not see you again.

Jason keeping his distance, staying away, not even calling in the holidays when he wasn’t around, and only ever calling any of you when he absolutely had to or felt like it. Knowing what his brothers felt, and knowingly inching himself closer to you when he saw you hadn’t chosen either just yet. Taking advantage of your vulnerability to quench his desires. Almost using you to get back at them. Then breaking your heart.

Tim trying too hard to make it up to you, buying so many of your paintings even when it wasn’t so necessary when he knew you wouldn’t decline. Confessing his love that night after Dick’s wedding, when you hadn’t a word to say back. Confessing his love for you again, kissing you on Christmas Eve, even after how much he’d hurt you before. You unknowingly choosing him, only for him to make that decision for you and drive you away, even when he thought it was best.

But then, of course, there was more. So much more than just that.

These vicious tides, caused by a disturbance, an accident that wasn’t so often deemed an accident, were not alone, it not for the chilling breeze that went with it, the moon that pulled them that was silent and beautiful, the shoreline that remained unmoving, warm to the toes when it needed to be. The rustling of trees. The ones that surrounded the tides, overpowered them.

Dick not wasting a moment when he saw you upset, filling so many of your days with the kind of contentment you could never bring to yourself. Never missing the littlest things that so much as caused a smirk up your lips, and bringing those details to life to earn that smile. Supporting you the most, with your passion for artistry, your hobbies, the things you loved to do, he pushed you to do. Watching you, caring for you, giving you everything you wanted all for the sake of seeing you happy, even when he should or shouldn’t. Even when you were never his to begin with.

Jason knowing exactly what it was like to be you, understanding that, letting you know that he understood, that you weren’t alone in any of this at all. Knowing he didn’t have much of a chance, stopping himself from falling in too deep for his own sake, but not when it was you who needed him to fall. To at least be with him. Giving you that solitude, letting you know that he, too, wanted to treat you well, wanted you to feel just as beautiful as he thought you were, even when it pains him in the end.

Tim loving you from the moment you met. That sweet, fairytale love story of when you were friends first, and his love that grew from that. Best friend turned lover. Your love story, how you came to be, could all be a novel on its own. Caring for you, staying even after a relationship that hadn’t worked out the first time, knowing you needed him more than anything and anyone there could possibly be. Your partner as heroes, your partner now. Albeit friends or lovers. It didn’t even matter. And after then, even when he loved you so much, still kept your best interests in mind, only ever thought about what was best for you, or what he thought was best for you, all for the sake of you no longer being hurt the way you used to.

That was what surrounded that cruel tide that pulled you back miles away from the shore you just wanted to land on. That tide. That night. The guilt. The blame. The loss. The regrets. Those were the tides, and everything else, it was beautiful.

So now, what will it be? Other than to place it all to the side, forgive that night for what it did to you. move on. No longer will you let it pull you with its current. No longer will you let it get in the way of your happiness. Of their happiness. No longer will you let its lingering darkness settle for too long before it settles for good. No longer will you let the loss of your damned leg cause the loss of your whole life and happiness.

Because of course, they weren’t to blame. Blaming yourself, or someone, would mean they were solely responsible for the penalties that stemmed from what they did, intentional or not. They weren’t responsible. Not even a bit. For what else would it be, other than an unfortunate arrangement and timing of events, something far beyond the control of even the strongest deity. That if the same things done were done differently, would at all be the same. No, they weren’t at fault. They weren’t to blame.

And if you did believe that they were, even in the slightest, then it would be why you’ve been how you had been, how you just couldn’t know, or admit to yourself, who you were to give your heart to. Why you couldn’t open up, afraid that somehow, deep within your own crevices, you hadn’t forgiven them.

But it wouldn’t matter. You have forgiven them, at least now, if they had done anything at all that was to blame. And you didn’t think so. You couldn’t bring yourself to think so. Not when you no longer let that loss be the cause for further pain than it’d already rooted.

No longer, not with who they were, and how they loved you.

Dick, who always had to love you from afar, and never let that love falter despite it being so painful and tempting.

Jason, who had to fight against that love thinking he hadn’t a chance at making you as happy as he knew you could be.

And Tim, who won your heart the first time and gave you these wonderful years as a soul who couldn’t be more perfect beside yours.

They were selfless, gentle, caring young men, who’d bend the world for you if they had to.

One of them, you were sure, will ultimately, wholly, have your heart.

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MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST

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A/N: The next parts definitely won’t be as heavy as this one, but to those who stayed behind and leave the loveliest comments, know that I’m here at all because of you guys 🎉

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