#dinomight writes

[dinomight]

too late, too late to be awake

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)  

Rating: Mature

Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Tim Drake & Prudence Wood

Characters: Prudence Wood

Once, Tim saved her life when no one else could have. Now, Pru tries to return the favor. (Or: Pru's POV of the Red Robin auction in The Conservator.)

Based on the Endophyte series by the illustrious @chemical-processes and @galaxythreads <3

[dinomight]

leave what i’m chasing

or: a double vignette about Liu Sang and family.

Mothers are such tricky things.

Liu Sang always thinks he’s got it down, the repression thing. Quite a simple mechanism of the brain, in that all it requires is a lack of effort. Don’t think about it. Don’t let yourself feel. Keep it in its tiny little corner, and it won’t bother you.

And then Xiao Bai goes and says something like, “I should visit my mom, I could use a hug from her right about now,” and suddenly the corner isn’t enough.

What is it like, to want that? What is it like, to hear the word mom and think warmth, home, comfort?

He wouldn’t know. It’s like a missing limb that he only notices when he tries to use it, when he tries to reach out and want. Suddenly he’s stumbling through open air, grasping at something that just…slips through his fingers. There is no frame for this feeling. Nothing to compare it to. The mother Xiao Bai refers to—not the woman, the concept—doesn’t exist. Not for him.

There was a time, when he was young, when he thought his stepmother fit that role. She was the only kind of mother he’d ever known, after all; his birth mother died before he could even speak, and his father didn’t waste time remarrying. How was he supposed to know that mothers didn’t make the house tremble with their every shift of mood, that mothers didn’t threaten to leave, that mothers didn’t attach conditions to their love?

It took him far too long to realize that. Even longer, to understand it. And it’ll take him a lifetime to accept it.

—

Once, Kan Jian asked if any of them wanted kids. Most of the answers were jokes, Pangzi patting Wu Xie on the back and saying he already had one, Su Nan mime-gagging, Hei Xiazi trying to act out what a tomb raider with a baby on their back would look like.

Liu Sang just took a long sip from his beer and didn’t say a word.

(He thought about his stepmother stepping through the door, the way her mere presence drained any semblance of calm away. He thought about his father slamming a cup down, making the table shake.)

(He thought about anger. The way it sits on his tongue, a vicious beast barely leashed. He thought about the time, a couple weeks before, when he’d had a bad morning and snapped at Pangzi over something stupid, only for a heartbeat to pick up and for Xiao Mei to silently flee the room. He thought about regret, suffocating, like ash in his throat.)

(He thought about his ears. His ears, that got him bought by his shifu and not shipped off to a dozen other places that would’ve ended with him in a shallow grave. His ears, that saved him in that burning house, that told him which direction to crawl when his eyes could barely tell up from down, that always kept him alive to witness the next horror. His ears, that his shifu told him were likely genetic.)

(He thought about a life in his hands. Terribly frail, like the ancient vases he’d seen recovered from tombs and could never bring himself to touch.)

(How unfair, he thought, to never know if it’s out of his reach because he truly doesn’t want it, or if he’s just too scared of the venom in his veins. What an injustice it is.)

(No. If they’d asked him, he would’ve said no. Liu Sang doesn’t want kids.)

title from Class of 2013 by Mitski.

[dinomight]

Some whumptober prompts: Xiao Hua and blindness, with Hei Xiazi helping him through it --- Ransom or auction and Liu Sang ---- Self-induced injuries to escape and XiuXiu ---- "You're still not dead?" and Pangzi ----"Who did this to you" not sure who the whumpee is but Wu Erbai saying it. I would definitely prefer if it had a happy or at least hopeful ending!

ANDDDDD THAT’S A WRAP!!!! fox my beloved here is the last one, as requested!!! thank you so much for sending these in!!!

24. self-induced injuries to escape

Let it be known that Huo Xiuxiu is not offended that she’s been kidnapped. After all, it’s not her first time, and it certainly won’t be her last; in fact, she’s come to find a certain kind of excitement in it. A bit of spice, if you will, to liven up her week.

What is quite offensive is how absolutely incompetent these particular kidnappers are. It would almost be amusing in a way, if that incompetence hadn’t only kicked in when they were tying her up, and not before they’d beaten Xiao Hua unconscious.

“Hold on,” Xiuxiu mutters under her breath as she works at the ropes binding her wrists with a shard of glass. “Hold on, Xiao Hua-gege, just a little longer.”

The glass isn’t the most elegant solution, she’ll admit, but it was the most easily available. Idiots tied her up with rope, and then threw her in the same corner of this cramped room as a couple of broken bottles. She’s not even sure which is worse: the idea that they were too stupid to notice, or that they thought she was too stupid to notice. Either way, Xiuxiu usually prefers the more delicate methods of slipping her bindings, but considering she’s not even sure Xiao Hua’s still breathing—speed is of the essence, at the moment.

Every movement she makes with the glass forces her to bite down on her lip a little bit harder, until she tastes the same sticky iron there that she can feel coating her palms. She’s not sure how many cuts she’s got at this point. Certainly enough to ruin whatever claim she’d had to pretty hands before today.

(The thought doesn’t bother her that much. Of the two of them, Xiao Hua’s always had the better-looking hands, anyways.)

When the rope finally gives, she has to choke back a sob of relief before tossing it and the glass to the side. Her own bloody palms be damned, she scrambles over to Xiao Hua and holds two trembling fingers under his nose.

Whatever relief she’d felt before is a thin note to the chorus that thunders through her when she feels Xiao Hua exhale. “Don’t scare me like that,” she whisper-yells at him, even though he probably can’t hear it. Not that he’d listen even if he could. She keeps going as she struggles to get him on her back, quietly cursing and panting. “I better be your favorite after this, I better not hear one word about Hei-ye for a week after this, I swear—”

She stops herself when she manages to get over to the door. This is the real moment of truth. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the layout of the place on their way in; their kidnappers could be waiting just outside, or they could’ve all left already.

One breath in. One breath out. Xiuxiu shoves the door open.

“Ah, there you are,” Hei Xiazi greets her from just a couple feet away, in what appears to be a badly lit card-playing room. He’s got one hand curled in a half-conscious guy’s jacket collar, the other pulled back in a fist. As she steps, he releases his grip, letting the guy collapse to the floor, taking a folding chair down with him in a loud crash. There are other bodies scattered around, maybe knocked out, maybe dead, she can’t get a good look in before Hei Xiazi’s in front of her.

Xiuxiu immediately leans forward, letting Xiao Hua slide towards him. “Take him, he needs to get to a doctor, they hit him in the head and I don’t—”

Hei Xiazi stops her word vomit with a cluck of his tongue as he shifts Xiao Hua to his own back with ease. (Bastard.) “Doctor’s the first stop, don’t worry. We’ll get you and Hua-er here fixed up in no time.”

“I’m fine,” she says as she follows him across the room to the exit.

That gets her an immediate snort. “You barely touched me and I can still smell your blood all over my jacket. This is my nicest one, by the way.”

“You’d have gotten blood on it anyways, at some point,” she says, frowning, hands held carefully in front of her.

“Sure, but I’d prefer it not be yours.” Hei Xiazi pauses before the door, craning his neck around to look at her. Even with the sunglasses, his gaze feels heavy. “I’m sorry I was late, meimei.”

For a moment, the words just hang between them, a rare glimpse at the human under the hired gun. Then it cracks, as Hei Xiazi grins and adds, “Next time, be a good little damsel in distress and have some patience, okay?”

Xiuxiu rolls her eyes, but as she steps out after him, she thinks: I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

No need to worry about her own hands when there’s always too more pairs willing to catch her, after all.

[dinomight]

oh goody i'm glad u still are. take any time, the surprises are fun. uh liu sang and pangzi, and prompt 2. talking is overrated (choking/gagging) and 17 field care 101 (please don't move!). pangzi comforter liu sang whumped because there's not enough suffering in the fics out there apparently. i just want all the prompts but im tryna choose less done themes haha

Hi anon!!!! Thank you so much for sending these in! Sorry it took a little bit, but here's the second fill (first one is the previous chapter)

Read on ao3 here.

17. Field Care 101 + "please don't move"

“For fuck’s sake,” Pangzi grits out as he pushes down on the wad of bandages, “Jinx, please don’t move.”

“I’m—” a shuddering gasp “—trying.”

“Try harder,” he says, and is immediately met with a glare that might be more effective if it weren’t coming from someone currently bleeding out. It’s worrying, though, when Jinx drops it nearly right away, mouth curling back in a pained grimace, eyes squeezing shut. His skin is turning a sickly shade, its normal warmth gone entirely dull.

Pangzi bites back a swear. The bandages he’s holding to the wound in Jinx’s side are starting to soak through. They can’t wait for Xiaoge and Tianzhen to come find them, not in this tomb with all its tunnels and goddamned traps; he needs to get Jinx to Xiaoge and his wacky medicines, now, or he’s gonna—

No. No, he won’t. Not on Pangzi’s watch.

“What’re you doin’?” Jinx asks, words slightly slurred. Enough to be concerning. Pangzi grabs his hands and presses them over the bandages to hold them in place.

“Press down, don’t let go,” he orders before turning away to dig through his pack.

When he finds the rope, he turns back to Jinx’s raised eyebrows.

Pangzi explains as he starts winding the rope around the other man’s back, “We need to go find Xiaoge to fix you up. Preferably before you complete your little zombie cosplay. I can’t carry you and keep pressure on the wound at the same time.”

The second he mentions carrying, Jinx goes stiff. And then he starts trying to move. Again. “I can—”

“No,” Pangzi growls as he ties the rope over the bandages maybe a bit tighter than necessary, effectively making Jinx still, “you fucking can’t. For once, drop the lone wolf act and let me take care of you.”

Jinx is quiet for a moment while Pangzi does a second knot. Then, in nearly a whisper: “I don’t wanna be a burden.”

Pangzi snorts. “Everybody’s a burden sometimes. Doesn’t matter. Pang-ye here is strong as hell.”

“That’s not—”

“I know what you meant,” he says, leaning back to meet Jinx’s gaze, “and I’m telling you: I can carry you.”

Behind the thick lenses of those glasses, Pangzi watches Jinx’s eyes go almost comically wide, and then start blinking rapidly. He opens and shuts his mouth a couple of times, like he’s desperately trying to figure out a response, until Pangzi takes pity on him and turns around to offer his back.

“Come on,” he says as he helps Jinx maneuver himself onto his back. “Let’s go find your little ouxiang before you bleed all over my favorite jacket.”

Jinx huffs, warm against the back of his neck, and Pangzi smiles.

[dinomight]

I’m literally about to be a whole slut in ur inbox because I love u and also WHUMP 👀👀👀👀

Ok the first one that caught my eye was #18 with Zhang Rishan/Liang Wan because I’m notoriously predictable but I will probably be BACK with more soon so feel free to ignore/do whichever ones speak to u!!

...slutspeare? being a whole slut? in my inbox? it's more likely than you think--

Anyways jokes aside sniffles ilyt thank you so much for sending these in! <33333 I had so much fun with this one you don't even know

Read on ao3 here.

18. The Doctor is In

“What,” Liang Wan says flatly, “is that.”

If she hadn’t seen him face down impossible horrors with nothing but his bare hands, maybe the innocently blank expression on Zhang Rishan’s face would work on her. But right now, with the throbbing gash in her leg, and the perfect view she has of the goddamn sewing needle and gold thread in his hands—Liang Wan is not amused.

“You need stitches,” explains Zhang Rishan, like she hadn’t been the one to say that all but two minutes ago.

She stares at him. The fabric of her favorite cream cardigan, currently tied around her thigh, is slowly turning red. “Yes. Stitches. With a sterilized needle. And sterilized thread. That is meant for stitches, and not embroidery.”

“...I’ve used these on myself before,” he says with a little frown, looking at the needle intently. “It worked fine.”

“How many—” A fresh wave of pain shoots through her thigh, and she has to bite her lip to keep from groaning. “Never mind, we’ll—later, later issue. I stashed a suturing kit in one of your weird cabinets the last time our date got interrupted.”

It’s a testament to how well he knows her by this point that he doesn’t have to ask any questions to know which one she means. He pulls out the kit and brings it over, crouching down next to her.

“Pull out the wipes first, I need to clean my hands before I put on the gloves,” Liang Wan says, holding one hand out as she runs through the steps in her head.

“No.”

Liang Wan blinks. “No?”

“You are not giving yourself stitches,” Zhang Rishan says—no, orders, in that firm tone she’s heard him use on Luo Que. He doesn’t wait for a response before starting to clean his own hands.

“But—” she splutters, pain temporarily forgotten as she shakes her head. “I’m the doctor!”

“And you’re the one who is injured,” comes the infuriatingly level reply, followed by the snapping of gloves on skin.

“Do you even know how to do stitches?”

He nods.

“With actual medical supplies?”

“I imagine it wouldn’t be harder than without them,” he points out, fixing her with that dark, unreadable gaze that hides a century’s worth of love and loss behind it. The look that Liang Wan’s been helpless against since she first met him. “Whatever I don’t know, you can teach me.”

She pouts, like she always does, but gives in. “Fine. But if it gets infected and I lose my leg, I’m going to make you carry me everywhere, president or not.”

The corners of his mouth tug back in that tiny hint of a smile that might as well be a grin coming from Zhang Rishan. “I wouldn’t dare assume otherwise,” he says as he readies the supplies.

It takes less time than she’d expected, though maybe that’s just her pain-addled mind playing tricks on her. Zhang Rishan is, as always, a quick study with his study, she walks him through the process twice before she has to curl forward, bracing one bloodied hand on his thigh, and just try to breathe, but he takes it smoothly from there. By the time it’s done, she’s shed more than a few tears and wants nothing more than to lie down right there, on the floor of Zhang Rishan’s office, and go to sleep.

She must’ve said the last part out loud, or else some part of her expression gave her away, because when he’s done packing away the kit, Zhang Rishan doesn’t hesitate before slipping one gentle arm around her back and the other under her knees, and scooping her up off the floor.

“My leg’s not gone,” she mumbles into the collar of his soft sweater. Distantly, she can still feel the ache in her thigh, but she’s so tired it can’t quite reach her.

“I know,” he says quietly, with a hint of amusement, bending down his head for a moment to brush his lips against her forehead, his grip not shifting in the slightest.

One of his hands is curled tight around her shoulder—it’s that shoulder, she realizes. There’s an instinctive part of her that wants to pull away, to hide, even though she knows the tattoo can’t possibly be visible with the shirt she has on. It wouldn’t matter if it was, though. Zhang Rishan’s seen it. He’s seen all the worst parts of her; he’s seen her jealous, angry, half-starved and terrified out of her mind, even seen her red-eyed and struggling to breathe through the pepper in her throat. To be fair, he’d been responsible for that last one, but still. He’s seen all of that, and he’s stayed.

“Thank you,” Liang Wan murmurs, not even sure he can hear her as he maneuvers them both into his room. But then comes his equally soft response:

“Always.”

[dinomight]

okay Okay first Whumptober ficlet prompt fill for @foxofninetales ! Yes technically it's thirteen minutes past midnight but uhhhhh I haven't gone to sleep yet so it's still the third and this is definitely, totally on time. Apologies though that this is...not actually very whump-y, oops >.<

Cross-posted on ao3, read here.

3.

“Who did this to you?” He keeps his voice even. Low. A hint of concern, but not frantic. And firm, so it’s clear he expects an answer.

Liu Sang shifts from foot to foot, his eyes flitting anywhere but Erbai’s face. There’s a deep bruise dripping down his cheekbone, and Erbai’s watched after his nephew long enough to know what it looks like when someone’s in pain and trying to hide it. “Just a disagreement with a team member on my last job. There’s no need to worry, Wu Er-ye, it won’t impact my performance on this job.”

It is very tempting to sigh, and a testament to his self-control that he does not. “Your last job was with Zhu Ling, correct?” Erbai says instead.

“Yes,” Liu Sang replies, blinking like he’s surprised. He shouldn’t be. Erbai is thorough, even with people he’s hired before.

He hums and makes a note of it. “I assume this team member was let go, then.”

There it is again, that awkward shifting. “Um. Well. No. He’s...Zhu-laoban’s right-hand man. But it’s fine. I was compensated for the trouble.”

“A right-hand man who cannot control his temper is no better than an untrained dog,” he says, catching Erjing’s eye from where he’s sitting, in the other corner of his office. His own right-hand smiles, a soft and lazily confident little thing. It takes a small effort for Erbai to recenter his attention to Liu Sang. “Get checked out by one of our doctors before we set out. If you’re not clear, we’ll push the expedition back.”

“What?” Liu Sang blurts out. “I- sorry, I just mean, you don’t need to postpone anything for me, sir.”

Erbai can’t help but sigh a little bit, this time, and sets aside the papers in front of him. “Liu Sang. The maps you provided us with in that northern tomb were far more accurate than any technology I’ve invested in.” He stares at the young man, but that look of confusion doesn’t change. “If you need time, you can have it.”

“Oh. I- thank you, Wu Er-ye,” Liu Sang says slowly, like he’s still processing.

Erbai takes pity on him by putting an end to the conversation with a nod of dismissal. Always in tune with him, Erjing stands and opens the door, holding it until Liu Sang bows his head and leaves. Once he’s gone, Erjing lets the door close and turns back with a laugh.

“Always the kids, isn’t it.”

“Yes,” Erbai says, shaking his head. “Always.”

[dinomight]

HI IM BACK I told u I would be uhhhhhh #9 with pangxie?!? Xiaoge can be there too if u want I just really want a Wu Xie or Pangzi maybe thinking the other has died and going a lil feral over it??? Maybe???? 👀👀👀

(/｡＼) hiyaaaaaa apologies 'cause I meant to write this on Saturday and got distracted by the sims lol. Thank you so much for sending prompts in! I'm excited to write the other two too!

Content warnings for sorta graphic violence perpetrated by the main characters.

Read on ao3 here.

9. presumed dead + (blind) rage + tears

Half the mercenaries are bleeding out or dead on the floor when a strange thought occurs to him: is he gonna have to sharpen his shovel after this?

It almost makes Pangzi laugh, the thought of taking one of Xiaoge’s fancy grindstones to his rusty, fold-up shovel. Probably would, if Tianzhen wasn’t fucking dead.

The stark reminder of the image burned on the backs of his eyelids—Tianzhen, mouth open in a soft oh, crossbow bolt sticking out of his shoulder, tipping over the edge of the trap-opened abyss, falling—pushes Pangzi back into action. Across the chamber is the man who fired that damn bolt. Pangzi growls as he charges at the bastard, knocking one guy out of his way with a shovel blade to the knee.

They clash violently. The merc’s dropped his crossbow for a machete, which he manages to get oe deep slice across Pangzi’s bicep with. And that’s all he manages to do before Pangzi tosses aside his shovel, wraps his hands around the bastard’s throat, and bashes that fucking skull into one of the pillars.

There’s a sickening crunch, but the guy’s still kicking and letting out strangled grunts, so Pangzi does it again. And again. And again, not stopping when blood flows in thick streams over his hands, not stopping when salt pricks at his eyes and sobs bubble out of his chest, not stopping when another one of the mercenaries tries to come at him. The only thing that makes him loosen his grip and look up is the sound of sword striking flesh and a raspy, familiar voice in its wake: “Pangzi?”

It’s Tianzhen, but it can’t be. Tianzhen fell. He’s gone, so this man standing across the room, clutching his bloody shoulder with half a smile on his lips and a whole lot of concern in his eyes—he’s not real. Pangzi’s hallucinating.

Xiaoge moves past him in a blur, wrenching his sword out of the corpse it created and going for whoever’s left standing. Pangzi should pick up his shovel and help, but his feet have grown roots; he’s stuck, staring.

“Pangzi,” the hallucination repeats, brows furrowing together in that same cute, bunny-scrunched way Tianzhen’s always do. It takes a step towards him and wavers, and that’s what breaks him. Because that pit is only a few feet behind it, and hallucination or not, Pangzi won’t let Tianzhen fall. Not again.

He crosses the space between them in heavy strides, lungs still heaving with half-formed sobs, and wraps his arms around a very warm, very real Tianzhen.

“P-Pangzi, it’s okay,” that voice says in soft puffs against Pangzi’s throat. “Xiaoge caught me, it’s okay, I’m—”

“Don’t do that,” Pangzi chokes out as he slides one hand up to cup the back of Tianzhen’s head, keeping him gently pinned against his chest. Where he’s safe. “Don’t fucking do that to me. Please.”

Tianzhen huffs a little, but he can feel the smile against his skin, the start of a wet spot on his collar. “Yeah. Yeah, alright.”

[dinomight]

wip tag game

I was tagged by the lovely @s1utspeare to do this! might be cheating a little bit bc I'm not sure if it means last line written or last line on the doc but this is. neither. bc everything else I had was too spoilery lmao

rules: write the last line from a wip and tag as many people as there are words in a line. make a new post!

Bai Haotian crumples, a house of cards meeting its first puff of air. The last thing she sees before falling unconscious is Liu Sang landing next to her, eyes cloudy with the same drugged glaze, but still wide. Still aware enough to be afraid.

(it's also technically a last paragraph not a last line oop but I was feeling generous)

uhhhh I have such a bad memory so tagging that many people was never gonna happen in the first place but the only person I can think of who I haven't seen already tagged is @daydreamorama but if anybody else sees this and wants to go for it, consider yourself tagged!