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#but i will say that i had so much fun writing this fic
littlemissmiller · 15 hours
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𝑀𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑌𝑜𝑢
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Pairing: joel miller x fem!reader
Summary: the summer before you graduated college, Joel Miller became a regular at the bar you worked. he was perfect except one small problem…you already have a boyfriend
Warning: 21+ (drinking), fluff, slight age gap (reader is in her early 20s and Joel is 30) smut, oral (f receiving) p in v, slight body worshipping, porn with plot
Word count: 5.2k
A/N: i did it! i finally wrote a fic to live up to my blog name! i’m so proud of this one y’all like omg…i love it, it’s so perfect. such a cute lil fluffy smut (≧◡≦) ♡ also still can’t get over the fact that people like my little hobby, so thank you for all the love! it only encourages me to write more. speaking of which, i have so many stories for the summer coming up, especially with tom blyth coming back as billy. i already have a few stories started so hopefully they will be out sooner rather then later. ok that’s it i have nothing more to say. enjoy ❣︎
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It was your last summer before graduating college and being home made you want to cherish your last year even more. You were looking forward to it and ready to be done bartending so you could see your friends and have some real fun. Sure, this job made you a ton of cash, but being home was nothing in comparison to being with your college friends in a town totally catered to you and your fellow students. Although your hometown had its perks. At least it used to. Your longtime boyfriend had never left your hometown or went to college. He had instead opted for going into a trade and becoming an electrician.
Your relationship was strong at first, but every semester it became harder and harder to navigate. Time after time you had convinced yourself that he was still your best friend, but meeting new people in college and getting to experience the joys of youth on your own for the first time, had given you a lot of perspective. So every birthday, holiday, and summer, you felt like you were coming home to a completely different man. Yet you stayed with him because you really wanted to make it work and you told yourself you loved him. Yet something unexpected had happened. One evening at work, a group of men came in to watch the Rangers game. That’s when you first met him and that’s the night Joel Miller would become a regular at your bar.
He was clearly older, at least thirty, but you couldn’t help but practically gawk at him all night. And you couldn’t help but think that Joel was eyeing you too. But you felt a wave of guilt overcome you. You knew you shouldn’t feel like this. You knew you shouldn’t be staring down another man like that but you couldn’t help it. But his arms looked so strong, like he could carry you effortlessly. You couldn’t help the way you smiled every time he would share a boisterous laugh with his friends. His own sweet smile drew you in and you noticed he had the cutest cheek nimble on top of it. From his big chiseled nose to his perfectly crafted jawline, he was an absolute Adonis. Just then another wave of guilt washed over you and you tried to shake away your feelings of disloyalty as you walked into the kitchen, putting their food order in.
As you walked out of the kitchen and brought them their next set of drinks, you tried not to look at him so much but it’s hard not to. Then he spoke up.
“Hey darling? Could I get some more napkins when you get the chance?”
“Yeah sure!” You scurried off and came back immediately
He smiled at you as he thanked you which made your heart flutter. As you made your way back to the kitchen, another server catches up to you.
“Who’s the handsome cowboy at 13?” She asked
“Oh” you started “I’m not sure. Are you talking about the man in the white shirt?” You lied acting like she was talking about someone else
“Girl, don’t play. I can see him undressing you right now”
You glanced over, and caught him smiling at you while he sipped his beer. You started to smile back, when the guilt hit you again and you turned back to your co-worker.
“Oh…yeah…h-he is handsome yeah…but not like I’m interested.” You lied again
“Okaaay whatever you say…” she said unconvinced, rushing off to her table
Joel and his buddies left around 9 and you noticed that Joel leaves the biggest tip out of everyone. Around 10 o’ clock you clocked out and headed to your boyfriend’s house where you had planned on spending the night. Once you arrived, you walked straight into his room where he was playing some PC game. His back was towards you and he didn’t notice you at first with his big headset on. You hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek. He startled and you jumped back.
“Woah! Hey! Your home” he remarked, clutching his chest, barely glancing at you “Jesus you scared me.”
“Clearly” you giggled
“God don’t sneak up on me like that. Could have cost me the game” he sighed, as he returned his full attention to the screen.
“What ya playing?
“COD” he remarked dryly
“Are you gonna be finishing soon?” You inquired
“Ahh probably not. I figured you’d be too tired to hang after your shift so I told the boys I’d be on tonight.”
“I thought you said we would watch a movie after work tonight?”
“Oh yeah, I mean I don’t know I just kinda figured you’d want to go to bed when you got home. Plus you fall asleep to every movie we watch together”
“Yeah” you sighed in disappointment, wanting to follow it up with “but that’s not the point.” You knew he’d get upset at you for pulling him away from his game. “I just want to cuddle you.”
“Ok ok I got ya. I’ll be in bed soon, ok.” He said halfhearted, still not looking at you.
You changed into a pair of sweat shorts and an old shirt and got ready for bed. As you climb into bed you want to cry. And you questioned your guilt from tonight. Maybe it was because it had been a while since a man seemingly flirted with you that made you realize just how lousy your boyfriend has become. When was the last time he genuinely made you feel special? You fell asleep, but were woken up by small kisses on your neck, but your boyfriend began to move more aggressively, trusting and grinning his crotch against your ass. At that point you’re too tired for sex, and all you wanted was for him to hold you and care for you.
“Mmm babe I’m really tired” you whined
“I thought you wanted attention?” He asked, continuing his actions. You pushed away slightly but he continued, only pulling you closer against his chest.
“I do, just not like this. Not right now ok? I just want to sleep.”
He sighed, turning over
“See this is why I don’t want to do a movie with you. I knew you would be too tired.”
“That’s not…” you wanted to finish your sentence again and say “that’s not fair” but once again that would probably upset him and now he was annoyed with you so you don’t want to push it. “I just want to sleep now ok.”
“Ok. It’s fine. Goodnight.” He huffed, falling asleep.
The next couple of shifts your mind is preoccupied by your newfound feelings about your relationship. Your boyfriend wasn’t abusive by any means, but it was clear the relationship wasn’t healthy anymore. That’s when the crying at work started. Mainly because you had just come from his house before each shift and every interaction with him pained you. The only thing that kept you from continuously calling off was Joel. Almost every shift around 5 o’clock he would come in, order a few beers, maybe something to eat, and chat it up with you.
By the third week, all your co-workers were teasing you about him. Whenever his truck would pull up in the parking lot, someone would come get you.
“Your cowboy is here!” Someone yelled out to you, stepping out of the kitchen. You left the servers station to greet him.
“Hey Joel! Mich Ultra? You asked
“You know it darling. How you’ve been?” He smiled, causing you to practically melt into a puddle. You gathered yourself and smiled back at him.
“About the same as the last time you saw me.”
“And still as beautiful as ever.” He winked
“You flatter me Mr. Miller. I bet Mrs. Miller is one special lady hmm?” You asked more or less trying to see if he was actually flirting with you or just being nice.
“She would if there was one.”
“Oh I thought you said you have a daughter?” You questioned more
“And a man can’t be a single dad in this world? How sexist of you” he chuckled sarcastically
You rolled your eyes at him and laughed along.
“I just thought such a handsome cowboy as yourself would have a beautiful gal to go home to.”
“I wish…” he sighed, eyes giving you a once over
“So where is she then? Your daughter? If not with her mom. You know we allowed kids in before 9 right?”
“Yeah, she just has soccer practice at this time three days a week. I figured why not wait for her to be done and come see you since I’m out and about.” He explained
“Ain’t you just a charmer.” I’ll get you that beer.”
You walk over to behind the bar and fetch Joel his beer.
“He’s just all over you” one of the bartenders remarked
“And he tips well too.”
“Gee I wonder why” they smirked, giving you a look “how does your boyfriend feel about him?”
“I mean he’s just a customer. They flirt all the time and who doesn’t like the extra cash?” You started quickly
“Mhmm sure” they said
You walk back to him, bringing him his beer and continuing to chat with him. He ordered another beer then left to go pick up his daughter Sarah.
Now every time at work shift, it felt like an escape. It also felt like a fantastic secret that only you knew about. A fantasy being played out in real life. Joel was so charming.
Even though he was older, his youthful demeanor shone through. He was caring too. If he wasn’t asking about you and your life, he was talking about his daughter. You could tell she was his world. He absolutely adored her, and you loved to listen to him go on and on about her. You didn’t quite care what your co-workers would say or how your boss didn’t like that you hovered around his table, sometimes neglecting your other ones.
But he couldn’t complain too much given Joel was a respectful, paying customer. And a great tipper. And he would always leave a little note on his receipt. Nothing too flirtatious, just innocent enough to toe the line. This went on for a couple more weeks, your boyfriend none the wiser. Not like he was paying much attention to you anymore. Every note, you would take them and make sure to hide them when you got home. You stored them in your sock drawer and kept them secret like everything else about him. You still felt guilty though and realize that you need to end things with your boyfriend. It’s harder than you thought and truthfully you don’t know how to leave someone you’ve cared about that much. And been with for so long. But talking to Joel made you realize what you needed. And what you wanted. And you wanted him. And something told you he wanted you too.
Then back at home, living with your boyfriend it was a totally different reality. He felt so disconnected from you, so indifferent. And the more you faded away from him the less you felt like you really loved him still. And he noticed you pulling away from him. One night, you came home and had kept another one of Joel’s receipts.
“See you Wednesday :) Joel”
You left your server book out on his bed, along with your purse and hopped into the shower without thinking. When you got out of the shower, your boyfriend was sitting on his gamer chair, nose deep in your server book. You froze and tightened the towel around you nervously.
“Oh hey babe. When did you get home? I thought you and the boys were having a boys night? “
“We decided to just get dinner instead. What’s this?” He asked, holding up the receipt.
“Oh, just one of my regulars. Don’t worry about it.” You giggled, trying to play it cool reaching for the book. He holds it back from you and stands up.
“Who’s Joel?”
“My regular” you repeated
“Oh yeah. I bet he tips you well hmm? Pays you lots of attention?” He asked accusatorily.
“I-he…he’s just a regular we get them all the time.”
“Yeah, but you said he is one of YOUR regulars. Why yours? Why is he writing you notes?”
“He-he just always sits in my section I don’t know. That’s not too unusual…and a lot of customers write thank you notes and stuff I can’t control them!” You insisted, readjusting your towel again
“You expect me to believe that?”
You scoffed and rolled your eyes.
“Why are you acting like this?”
“Well I don’t need creepy men hitting on my girl at work.” He barked back
“He’s not creepy and you’re being ridiculous.”
“Oh then what is he?”
“He’s just a customer!” You argued even though it was a lie
From that moment on, your boyfriend had grown highly suspicious of your relationship with him and Joel. Wednesday rolled around and Joel showed up again as expected. You nervously approached him as he sat down.
“Well hey their sugar” he smiled
“Hey Joel” you replied, only giving him a half smile
He searched your face and could tell something is up.
“You ok?”
“Yeah, just life stuff. So Mich Ultra?”
He nodded and you walked off. His eyes followed you, watching you as you went to the bar. You came back and gave him his beer. You wanted to set it down and walk away, but Joel’s concerned eyes beckoned you to say.
“Thinking about food?” You asked him
“Maybe. I’m sorry doll, I don’t mean to pry but if I did anything to put you off-“
“No Joel of course it’s not you it’s just…relationship issues” you huff
“Sorry to hear that sugar. I hope y’all can work it out”
“I hope so” you sigh, knowing it’s a lie.
Just then your boyfriend storms into the bar. You don’t notice him at first, but then you hear a set of heavy footsteps approaching towards you and you look up. Confused, you call out his name.
“What are you doing here?”
“Can’t visit my girl at work anymore?” He asked glancing at Joel
“Excuse me.” You mumble to Joel, walking over to him and grabbing his hand. You lead him out of the building.
“What are you doing?!” You shouted
“Is that him? Is that Joel?” he sneered
“Why do you care all of a sudden hmm? You’ve barely paid attention to me in the last few months. What happened to us?” You nearly sobbed.
He sighed and shook his head
“What do you want from me? I mean I’m frustrated with you too if that helps. You have completely shut yourself off, don’t tell me shit! I’m upset too! Especially that I know you’re flaunting yourself around weirdo old men.”
“Stop! That’s it, I can't do this anymore. I’m so scared to tell you anything because of how you act when I share your feelings. When I come home, you ignore me and frankly it seems like you only give me affection when you want to fuck me!”
He rolled his eyes and scoffed, throwing his arms up.
“Oh my god! You over exaggerate everything. Is this why you’re acting like an attention seeker? Because you think I don’t pamper you?”
“Unbelievable. Pampering really…you know what I’m not arguing with you! I’m done! We’re done!” You shout and storm back into the back
“Done? Really like that? Four years done like that? Fine whatever, be that way, I know you don’t mean it. I’ll see you at home.” And he storms off back to his car.
You wanted to cry as you stormed back into the bar, but you held yourself together.
You tried to hide your clearly upset face as you rushed back into the kitchen and into the back alley next to the dumpsters. Joel noticed and ran out of the bar looking for you. He searched around the building then he called out to you.
“Hey. What’s wrong.”
You can’t help it. One look at him, and you ran into his arms. He embraced you, holding you tight.
“Hey my little firefly…what’s wrong?” He asked, his sweet southern drawl falling like your tears.
“I loved him Joel… why do people stop loving you back…” you sobbed
Joel gently stroked your hair, attempting to calm you down. It didn’t feel strange to be held by him. You felt safe, and comfortable in his arms, despite barely knowing him or even having any interaction with him outside of work, that moment felt right.
“I don’t know darling.” Joel sighed
You eventually gathered yourself and go back inside with him. Your boss thankfully didn’t notice your absence. Joel returned to his table and you returned to your other patrons. After his beer, Joel left and you didn’t really get a chance to see him leave. When you went to collect his tap you saw another note this time with his phone number and it read:
“Gotta go get Sarah. Call me if you need to talk”
Your heart dropped. He had finally given you his number and at the same time you still felt guilty. Even though you had, despite what your now ex-boyfriend thinks, finally ended your relationship. And here the opportunity was. Right in front of you. You look at the receipt, take it, fold it and immediately put it in your pocket to keep it safe. You clock out at ten and are all too eager to get into your car to call Joel. Once you do, you dial the number and it rings.
“Hello?”
“He-hey Joel it’s me…” you uttered
“You ok darling?” He asked sweetly
Maybe it was his voice, the question, or the fact that the weight of the burdens of your life seemed to have fallen apart around you, but you cried again. Letting it all out and at the same time feeling better than ever.
“Hey hey hey” Joel whispered “I just put Sarah to bed…why don’t you come over here? We can talk ok?”
You nodded and sobbed.
“Ok…”
Joel texted you his address and you put it into your GPS. It’s only about a ten minute drive to his house and when you pulled up, you nervously exit your vehicle. You walked up the front door and knocked quietly, not wanting to wake Sarah. A moment later, it swung open and Joel’s handsome face looked at yours with deep concern.
“Come on in.”
You nodded and walked into his home. As expected it’s much nicer than your boyfriends, but then again Joel is an actual adult, with a kid, and mortgage to pay off so it was to be slightly expected. It wasn’t too fancy, just your standard suburban home. You walked over to the couch and Joel followed you.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“Honestly I need something a little strong. Got any whiskey?”
He smiled ear to ear.
“Ya betcha.” And he rushed off into his kitchen.
You made yourself comfortable and tried to relax as you looked around Joel’s living room. You curiously strode over to his bookshelf and read the titles. Lots of history books, a few fiction and then you noticed the framed photo of him and his daughter. You realize you’ve never seen a photo of her, but she’s just as beautiful as you could have imagined. You smiled and Joel caught you in your curiosity.
“She’s been my little gem since day one. Just me and her. I don’t think I ever told ya, but her mom left us so…” he remarked.
You looked at him, smiled and nodded.
“She’s beautiful, Joel. You’re a great dad.”
Joel sat the glasses of whiskey down on the shelf and reached for your hand. You gasp slightly, look at where he’s touched you and then look up into his eyes. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear.
“You asked me why people stop loving people back and ya know, I still don’t have a good answer for that. I guess it’s because I’ve been asking myself the same thing for the last twelve years.”
“Joel…you’re such a good man…” you sighed, squeezing his hand.
“You’re too kind darling.” He smiled
“No really.”
You stared at him for a moment. His eyes searched your own looking for what he suspected you wanted from him. He cupped your face and he leaned in to kiss you. His lips fit perfectly against yours, like he was made for you. It was perfect and passionate. He was so gentle, yet you could feel how badly he had wanted this moment with you. He pulled back for a moment to make sure he hadn’t crossed the line.
“Got a bedroom?” You smirked
Before you knew it, Joel was crawling on top of you and you took off your shirt. At the same time he was busy frantically kissing your neck and jaw. He tossed it off and Joel took a moment to admire your chest. He gasped and reached to grope your breasts. Your soft, perky mounds fit perfectly in his hand and he began to massage you. He was in utter awe of you. Almost overwhelmed that he was getting to have you like this. You stared back up at him, equally in awe at that moment.
His big brown eyes melted your heart and all your troubles melted too. Fuck your lousy ex. All you wanted and needed was Joel. He kissed you again as he continued to play with your breasts. You let out a few giggles that turned into harsh, sharp moans as he moved his mouth down your body.
“Fuck…” you whispered, the word dancing around the room.
As his lips trailed you, your body reacted, your hips bucked and you were practically squirming under him. When his mouth found your cleavage, you felt the heat in between your legs grow stronger.
He continued to kiss you, only breaking away to take off his own shirt. He was toned, his skin smooth and he was unbelievably broad. You couldn’t help but admire the way his collar bone met his neckline. It was clean and sharp. You tried not to think of your ex, but in comparison he was not as fit as the gorgeous man in front of you. You placed your hands on his chest and felt his pecs, running your fingers down to his abdomen. You leaned up to kiss him again. His lips were so soft and addictive. You could’ve kissed him all night, but your desires beckoned for more. He held you up slightly and flipped you over. As he did he unhooked your bra and you let it fall off your chest. He tossed it on the ground and admired your bare chest for the first time.
“You’re so gorgeous. “ he uttered as your hair fell in front of you.
He pushed it out of the way and cupped your face. He pulled you back down to capture your mouth once again, lightly gripping the back of your neck. Your bare boobs pressed down against his chest, a feeling which you love. Skin on skin, the close intimacy and the feeling of being wanted more than just something to fuck. That’s how your ex had made you feel the last few months when you and him had sex, so being touched, cherished by Joel made your head spin. You weren’t used to it and you could feel your body reacting to the unfamiliar sensations. Joel noticed.
“Baby, you ok?”
You blushed at the nickname, smiled and nodded.
“It’s just been some time since I felt like this.”
“When’s the last time he touched you?”
“I-I mean we would have sex once or twice a week…”
“When is the last time he really touched you though. Made you feel special?”
You simply stared at him speechless and tilted your head.
“You know what, forget about him. Just focus on me. Let me make you feel good like you deserve.”
With that, he decided to be bold and reached for your mini skirt. He pulled it down past your hips and you lifted them up so he could pull it off you. He tossed it on the ground with your bra and his hands immediately moved to cup your ass. He squeezed the pillowy flesh as you moved your hips. You could feel him getting hard under you and you eagerly reached for his belt. His hands moved up to your waist, rocking you more. You undo his belt and he lifted up his hips to take off his pants. He slid them off along with his boxers, revealing his length. It was perfect. Just the right size, the mushroom tip red and swollen. Encouraged by his actions, you slide your panties off and you are both completely bare in front of each other.
He soaked the sight of your naked beauty in, eyes trailed over all your curves and edges. You were simply divine to him, a work of art. He runs his hands back up to your chest, briefly groping them, his eyes completely focused on your face. You grab his cock and began slowly stroking it. His mouth drops slightly as he watched you. He tilted his head back on the pillow briefly, before he looked back up to watch you. His breathing became ragged and you picked up your pace. You start to move on top of him, guiding his cock to your entrance, but he stops you.
“Let me get you wet.” He insisted, grabbing your hips and flipping you again. Immediately, he kissed down your body, worshiping you. “You’re so perfect. If you were my girl I’d never stop showing you how perfect you are.” He muttered in between kisses.
He kissed your inner thigh before he experimentally rubbed your clit. You gasped, your hips bucked in his face. He smirked at your reaction, loving how you responded to his touch. Taking that as a sign you wanted more, he gently kissed your slit. He gave you another one and another one until the little pecks of his lips turned into the sloppy mess of his tongue. It had been ages since a man had gone down on you like this. Your ex-never warmed you up beforehand anymore, too eager to satisfy his own desire and pleasure. Joel knew how to be a real man. His tongue and lips suck and rub at your core. He moved his head too, adding to the friction. You reached for his brown locks, desperately in need of something to hold onto. He hung onto your hips and he moved you against his face. He moaned against your core, eating you out like you were the most delicious meal of his life. He pulled back, out of breath and drunk in your juices.
“Could taste ya all day darling.”
You nodded as he inserted a finger in you, twisting it. He slowly pumped it into you, curling it up as he added another finger. He watched as your face scrunched up in pleasure. He sped his hand up, totally focused on getting you to finish.
“Joel…Joel…Joel…” you chanted “Gonna cum”
He nodded and worked you a bit more until you tightened down around his digits. You came hard, the euphoria rushed through your body like a roller coaster.
“So beautiful oh my god.” He praised, rubbing your thighs.
He crawled back up to you. He kissed you letting you taste yourself. You hadn’t felt this kind of passion in a while, this intense feeling of intimacy.
“You ready? He asked, slowly rubbing your clit again.
You nodded as he lined himself up with your slit. You felt as his cock pushed past your folds and stretched you out perfectly. You gasped and he kissed your cheek feather light. He cooed at you as he slid in, hitting the back of your cervix. You gasped, which turned into a raspy moan that floated from your lips. Joel cupped your face, stroking his thumb across your cheek. You two shared in the silence of your pleasure for a moment, taking in how good the other felt. He moved, slow at first then he sped up. He felt so full inside you, and you lost yourself in the sensation of his length. You could have stayed like that all night, the steady motion of his cock pumping into you was pure bliss.
“Does that feel good?” Joel inquired lovingly
“Yes, please Joel I want more. I need more of you.”
Per your request, he gave you more, slightly giving into his own desires to want to ravish you. But given it’s your first time with him, Joel didn’t want a sloppy, lustful encounter. Yet, he picked up his speed, his length now hitting the back of your walls at an almost brutal pace. Joel makes sure to keep checking in on you to make sure you’re okay or that it doesn’t hurt too much. You panted and panted as he continued, gripping onto his waist with your legs, pushing him deeper into you. He moved a bit more then flipped over. You smiled at him, slightly out of breath.
“I want to see that beautiful body riding me. Is that ok?”
You nod enthusiastically, slowly starting to move your hips. Joel’s hands groped your ass, rocking you on him more. He sat up, pressed his lips firmly against yours and held you tight. You started to bounce on him which elicited a guttural moan from his lips. He moved his hand to your hips, looking up at you in awe.
How could anyone not treat you like the absolute treasure you are?
Joel thought and wondered to himself as he held you. He couldn’t believe that your ex-boyfriend would neglect you. What a foolish man, but now he had you. In the exact moment he had imagined. He had you. He moved his hips in sync with yours. You steadied yourself on his shoulders, ecstasy, providing you escape. Your breath hitched as you feel his cock stiffen more inside you. He was close. You didn’t want it to end but then again you had a feeling this wouldn’t be your last encounter with Joel. A few last rocks of your hips and he was spent. He pulled you off him abruptly as he shot his load onto his stomach. You caught your breath, resting your forehead against his. You held his jaw in your hands, settling your hips.
“Joel…” you whispered, the words ghosting over your lips.
“Yes darling..” he whispered back
“Y-you have no idea how much I wanted you like this.”
“I know. Me too, but not just like this. I want you. All of you. Can I please have it?” He nearly begged
Your enthusiasm took over you and you planted a spontaneous kiss on his lips.
“Yes Joel…you can have all of me.”
꧁✩★✩꧂
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187 notes · View notes
dcxdpdabbles · 16 hours
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Hi! I love your writing so much!! I'm currently loving your freelance inventor series! I don't see a lot of danny/bruce fics so it's always fun when you post one!! What danny thinks of the justice league, does he think they're just Bruce's extreme sports friends? Or his kids friends parents?
Danny first meets Bruce's extreme sports friends when Dick plans to introduce Wally-his first boyfriend- on a water skiing trip. It went a little hair-walled due to the misunderstanding.
He had been around the manor with some free time, so he asked Bruce if he could join once Dick brought up the trip and made a comment on how important things he needed to talk about.
Usually, Danny wouldn't have bothered, but because it was so long that thier friendship had started he felt like it was a good time to ask.
At first, both the Waynes appeared to be dancing around the subject that, for a second, Danny thought they didn't want him there. Not wanting to make them feel pressured—and a little embarrassed he had assumed he could tag along—he backtracked quickly, making up an excuse about flying out to see Dani.
There was an awkward dinner that evening, so Danny left immediately. He had planned on staying the night at Wayne Manor, but he felt he had overstayed his welcome from his silly request. Instead, he rented a hotel room in the more dangerous parts of the city.
Danny had been on the hotel's phone line all night, attempting to find a plan to take him somewhere close to Dani. He could fly with his powers the rest of the way, but he needed to create some kind of paper trail.
While he listened to the hold music of the airline representative, he felt a wave of shame. At that point, Danny had only known Bruce and Dick for a year- but with various breaks in between visits- and had thought that made them closer. Who did he think he was?
Bruce wanted their relationship to stay as business associates who occasionally hung out but nothing as important as a vacation trip. Danny had just been the idiot who thought himself more important.
Well, he would not be making the same mistake. He would only come back if it involved his work and would find his own lodging from now on. The Waynes had likely not know how to say no to him.
Idiot, Danny thought, pacing in his room and wiping away tears. Idiot. Stupid. Moron. Of course, Bruce Wayne doesn't think of you as a friend! Get a clue!
"Thank you for waiting, Mr. Fenton. A first-class plane ticket to Calais, France, has been booked for you on Monday, July 7th. Would you like to make this a round trip?" the cheerful woman asks him, and he sniffs.
"No. It's a one-way. I won't be coming back here for a while." The words feel like knives in his chest
She doesn't notice as she chirps "Alright then, that has been done for you. Thank you for using Wayne Airlines!"
Ugh, he even used Bruce's planes by accident. At least this will be the last thing he annoys the man with. The following morning, bright and early Danny is out the door with his suit case. He makes it all the way to the lobby where he bumps into a fretting Dick and some red head kid.
"Danny!" Dick cries. He flings himself onto his waist, squeezing with all his might. Danny is flabbergasted. "Danny, I only wanted Bruce to go on the water ski trip because I wanted to tell him about my boyfriend! I haven't told him I was bisexual yet, I wanted to tell him on the trip, but I made him swear not to mention it to anyone else, but then you asked to go, and Bruce couldn't figure out a way to tell you no without revealing that I wanted to talk about something important-but then you got sad, and then Bruce got sad and I-"
"Babe." The redhead cuts in. "Breath"
"Danny, please don't be mad at Bruce because of me!" Dick cries, rubbing his face against Danny's stomach. "I promise we didn't want to exclude you!"
Danny's heart melts, both by how cute Dick is and the knowledge that Bruce was just a good dad and not any of his insecure-inspired conclusions. "Oh, Dick. I'm sorry you felt that. I promise I'm not mad, and I'm so proud of you. Thank you for sharing that part of yourself with me."
He leans down to hug the boy, grinning as the ten year old sighs. Then he directs a glare at the redhead. He looks about twelve and frankly, Dick is far too young for a boyfriend. "Who's this?"
"I'm Wally West-"
"I asked Dick"
"Oh."
Dick leans back. "This is Wally. He's my best friend and boyfriend! Wally, this is Danny- he's like my second dad."
"It's nice to meet you, sir!" The redhead gulps as Danny's eyes narrow.
"Pleasure." He says in a voice that means anything but. "Dick, sweetie, how did you get here? Does Bruce know where you are?"
"Wally and I...ugh took a cap." Dick everts his eyes. "Bruce was talking to his friends trying to convince them to go on the trip too. He wanted to prove you were his special friend to his regular friends."
A thrill ran through Danny. He was Bruce Wayne's best friend!? "You know I think I can take you kids back home myself. Maybe we can still make a water ski trip!"
Both boys blink owlishly. "Yeah...maybe. Let me just call Uncle Barry to make sure he's going, too."
Wally sprinted to the front desk to borrow their landline while Dick stayed behind, babbling to Danny about how he knew he was bi and how he met Wally. Mentally, Danny was drafting a lecture to give Bruce for allowing his boy to date a co-worker and friend's nephew, especially at this young age! He didn't let his thoughts appear on his face, only nodding and smiling between Dick's word vomits.
Meanwhile, on Wally's side, he uses the Justice League hotline to speak to his Uncle. His call was transferred to the meeting with all the original founders as he used the emergency code accesses Barry had taught him.
His call was placed on speaker for everyone to hear.
"Code Teal for B! Code Teal for B!" he hissed into the phone. The rest of the members sat up straighter and sent Batman looks of alarm. Code Teal was a spouse or lover who thought a hero was cheating on them because of the mission's old hours. We needed to come together to cover for them.
Batman was hiding his face in his hands. ".....Confirm Code Teal."
"Oh and before I forget Code Artificial red for Dick and me" Wally shouts, ignoring the imploding shouts from Batman or Uncle Barry.He hung up not wanting to explain that the boys had chosen to use Fake-out-make-out in order to convince Danny to stay.
He wouldn't mind dating Dick, but maybe later when they were both older. Not that Danny needed to know that.
158 notes · View notes
jaystardust · 3 days
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⋆。‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧。⋆ MY STUPID BIRTHDAY
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Pairing: Park Sunghoon x reader
Genre: fluff, a bit of angst, childhood friends to enemies to lovers, apparition of Jake, Sunoo, Jungwon and Minji (nwjns)
Warnings: slight humiliation, mention of food (tell me if I forget something)
Summary: in a world where every day counts, some days stand out more than others. for y/n, that day is her birthday, a day she shares with her best friend Sunghoon. but at their joint 16th stupid birthday celebration, an incident fractures their friendship
Words count: 3,9K
A/N : it's my first time posting a fic here, i had this idea popping into my head and decided to write something, idk if I will continue to write others in the future but I had so much fun writing this !! i hope you will enjoy it ( I don't really know if it is good or no tbh 😭😭), don't hesitate to give me some feedback or request something 💗
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365 days a year, sometimes even 366 days…you can say it's a lot.
Of all the days in the year, you chose your favorite. Some people like to choose Christmas or Halloween, while others prefer to be original and choose the day when the cherry trees blossom or the first snow falls. But you preferred to keep it classic, a day that might be banal for some, or cliché for others because your favorite day of all was your birthday.
What made this day so magical for you was the fact that you had the chance to share this date, so exceptional in your eyes, with your best friend Sunghoon. And that's why you became friends.
Sunghoon had come into your life at elementary school, arriving in the middle of the year and looking very shy. You remembered his arrival so well because he came to class on your so-called birthday, your 7th to be exact. On that day, your mother had baked your favorite cake, so you could share it with your classmates and blow out your candles, knowing that this day was so special to you.
When the cake arrived, you noticed the sparkle in the new kids's chocolate orbs. Curious to know if he shared your taste in pastries, you asked him if he was looking forward to tasting it. "Do you like strawberry shortcake cake too? They are my favorite!", the boy who seemed so silent didn't answer at the time and just looked at you. Surprised by his reaction, you tilted your head to one side and wondered why he didn't answer.
Ignoring the boy's attitude, you took his hand in yours and led him to the cake. “You can blow out my candles with me if you like!”, at the sound of such a friendly proposal, an expression you couldn't quite determine formed on Sunghoon's face, and his cheeks took on a crimson hue. 
Not understanding his reaction once again, you thought he didn't want to. “Oh, you don't like birthdays?”. The young brunet lifted his head and shook it vigorously, at which point he answered in an almost inaudible voice, “No, no...I like birthdays. Today's my birthday too…”.
Hearing such a statement, you couldn't help but jump up and down with joy at the idea of sharing such a precious moment with your new friend. Sunghoon, on the other hand, couldn't help hiding his face, rather embarrassed by so much attention suddenly focused on him. Seeing him so shy and embarrassed, you took his hand so that he could be at your side. “Let's both make a wish and blow out our candles, okay?”. You offered him a smile that revealed the tooth you'd lost last week and closed your eyes before making your wish. While the boy's wish remained unknown, you wished that from now on you'd be able to spend every one of your birthdays by his side... a day so precious to you
From that moment on, you and Sunghoon became inseparable. Birthdays became a shared celebration, a tradition that solidified your bond year after year. But as you grew older, things began to change. The simplicity of childhood was replaced by the complexities of adolescence, and the once-easy friendship began to face challenges neither of you could have anticipated.
High school brought about a shift in your dynamic with Sunghoon. New friends, different interests, and the inevitable misunderstandings began to drive a wedge between you two. It was subtle at first, a missed text here, a skipped hangout there. But over time, the cracks widened until a full-blown argument erupted on the day of your joint 16th birthday.
It had been brewing for a while, the tension palpable. Sunghoon had become more withdrawn, focusing on his new friends, sports, and studies. The clash came over something trivial—an unfortunate event that happened during your birthday celebration. 
At the long-awaited moment of blowing out your 16 candles, after wishing that things could work out between you and your best friend, Sunghoon had the wonderful idea of pushing your head into your birthday cake...in front of all the people who were invited. And what a shock it was to see one of his new friends named Jake laughing, holding up his phone to film the scene. “ Well done man! You nailed your bet, I didn't think you would!”.
After that, voices were raised, harsh words exchanged, and for the first time, you found yourself dreading your birthday. What a stupid birthday…
Years passed, and the distance between you and Sunghoon grew. From friends to enemies, it seemed. The shared birthday, once a symbol of your bond, now felt like a cruel reminder of what you had lost. Both of you were too stubborn to reach out, too hurt to mend the rift. So you ended your high school days this way.
College was supposed to be your fresh start, a new chapter free from the tangled mess of your high school drama. You had looked forward to it for years, dreaming of new experiences, new friendships, and the chance to redefine yourself away from the shadow of old wounds and betrayals. 
The campus was everything you had hoped for—bustling with life, offering endless growth opportunities, and filled with the promise of adventure. But as fate would have it, the one person you wanted to leave behind, Sunghoon, was also here. Seeing him across the quad that first week sent a chill down your spine. Memories of your 16th birthday, the argument, and the subsequent Cold War came rushing back, tainting what should have been an exciting new beginning.
When your mutual friends first proposed the joint birthday party, you couldn't believe your ears. "It'll be just like old times," Sunoo said, completely unaware of the emotional landmine they had stepped on. Your heart sank. The idea of celebrating your birthday with Sunghoon felt like opening an old wound. The 16th birthday incident left a scar, a painful reminder of how someone you once trusted implicitly could hurt you so deeply. 
Despite your protests, your friends were relentless. They saw the good memories, the fun, and the laughter from your shared celebrations. They remembered the duo that was inseparable and believed that one party could bridge the gap. To them, it seemed like a simple solution to rekindle a cherished tradition.
"Come on, it's just one night," Minji, your closest friend, pleaded. "You both deserve to have fun. It’ll be great, just like before."
You shook your head, frustration bubbling to the surface. "It's not that simple, Minji. There’s a lot you don’t understand."
Minji sighed, her expression softening. "I get that you two had a falling out, but it was so long ago. People change, y/n. Maybe Sunghoon isn’t the same person who did that...stupid thing."
"It's not just about the cake," you snapped, then took a deep breath to calm yourself. "It's everything that happened afterward. He just...he wasn't there for me. We were supposed to be best friends, and he let me down."
Jungwon, another friend who was also part of your mutual circle, chimed in. "Y/n, we're not asking you to be best friends again overnight. Just give it a chance.”
You looked at them, feeling the weight of their words but also the burden of your memories. "I don't know if I can handle it," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "What if things get worse?"
Minji put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "We've all seen how happy you two were back then. We just want to see you both happy again, even if it's just for one night. Can you try, for us?"
You hesitated, the memories of the laughter and joy you once shared with Sunghoon conflicting with the bitterness of your last encounter. The sincerity in your friends' eyes made it hard to refuse outright.
"Okay," you finally said, the word feeling heavy on your tongue. "I'll do it. But if things go south, I’m leaving. I can’t relive that nightmare."
Sunoo's face lit up with relief. "Thank you, y/n. We promise it’ll be worth it."
Jungwon grinned, giving you a thumbs up. "You won't regret it. We'll make sure it's an awesome party."
The first meeting to discuss party details was an exercise in tension. Sunghoon, once your shy and endearing best friend, now exuded an air of arrogance that made your blood boil. He walked into your living room with a confident swagger, greeting everyone casually, as if the years of animosity between you two didn’t exist.
"So, what's the plan?" Sunghoon asked, locking eyes with you for a moment. His gaze was steady, but you could see a flicker of something—regret, nostalgia?—before it vanished.
You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. "We need to decide on the venue, decorations, food, and the guest list," you replied, your tone clipped.
"Great, I was thinking we should go big," Sunghoon said, leaning back in his chair. "A large venue, lots of music, and a huge guest list. It’s our 21st birthday after all."
You scoffed, shaking your head. "Of course, you'd want that. I was thinking of something more intimate. Close friends, good food, a relaxed atmosphere."
Sunghoon smirked, his eyes challenging. "A small gathering? That’s boring, y/n. People want to have fun."
"Fun doesn't mean a circus," you shot back, your irritation evident.
Jake, sensing the rising tension, intervened. "Hey, why not meet in the middle? We can have a decent-sized venue but keep the guest list reasonable. And mix up the music so there’s something for everyone."
You and Sunghoon exchanged a reluctant glance, and to your surprise, he nodded. "Fine. That works for me."
You sighed, feeling a bit of the tension ease. "Okay. But I’m in charge of the decorations."
Sunghoon chuckled. "Deal. As long as I get to handle the music."
The rest of the meeting was a series of compromises. Despite the occasional bickering, you managed to make some progress. However, the tension from years of unresolved issues loomed over every decision, making even the simplest tasks feel burdensome.
One afternoon, after another heated argument over the party's theme, you found yourself alone in the library, trying to finalize the details. Memories of happier times with Sunghoon flooded your mind—his shy smile, the way he used to get excited about your shared birthdays, and the countless hours spent talking about everything and nothing.
You were lost in thought when Sunghoon walked in and sat across from you. "Look, I know we have our differences, but we need to make this work. For our friends," he said, his voice surprisingly sincere.
You sighed, nodding. "Yeah, you're right. Let’s just focus on making this a good party."
Sunghoon looked relieved, and for a moment, you saw a glimmer of the boy you once knew. "I remember how much you loved those fairy lights. Maybe we can use them for the decorations?"
You were taken aback by his suggestion. "You remember that?"
"Of course I do," he replied softly. "Those birthdays meant a lot to me too."
In the days that followed, you fell into an uneasy rhythm. Despite the bickering, there were moments when the old Sunghoon resurfaced. One morning, he brought you your favorite coffee, remembering your order perfectly.
"Here," he said, handing you the cup. "I figured you could use a break."
You took it, surprised. "Thanks."
Another time, he helped you with particularly tricky decorations. As you struggled with a set of lights, he appeared beside you, effortlessly untangling them.
"Let me help," he said, his voice gentle. "You always hated doing this alone."
These small gestures made you wonder if there was still something worth salvaging between you two. Could it be that beneath the layers of hurt and pride, the bond you once shared was still there, waiting to be rekindled?
Just as you began to hope for reconciliation, everything came crashing down. Walking past the student lounge one afternoon, you overheard Sunghoon talking to Jake. Their voices were casual, filled with the easy camaraderie of old friends, but what you heard made your blood run cold.
"Yeah, she's still unbearable," Sunghoon was saying. "I don't regret pushing her head into the cake at all. Honestly, I'd do it again in a heartbeat."
The words felt like a dagger to your heart. Any progress you thought you’d made, any hope for a rekindled friendship, shattered in an instant. You turned and walked away, not wanting to hear another word. The small gestures, the moments where you thought the old Sunghoon was resurfacing, all felt like lies. The betrayal was raw and overwhelming, stirring up all the old hurt and anger you had tried so hard to move past.
That evening, you decided to confront Sunghoon. The emotions you had kept bottled up were boiling over, and you needed to let them out.
“Sunghoon, I overheard what you said to Jake,” you began, your voice trembling with suppressed anger.
Sunghoon looked up, confusion and worry flashing across his face. “Y/n, what are you talking about?”
“You said I’m unbearable and that you’d push my head into a cake again,” you replied, each word laced with the pain of your resurfaced wounds. “I thought we could maybe get past what happened, but clearly, you haven’t changed at all.”
Sunghoon’s face fell, and for a moment, he looked like the boy you once knew, the boy who had been your best friend. “It’s not like that,” he started, his voice soft and pleading.
“I don’t want to hear it,” you snapped, cutting him off. The anger in your voice masked the hurt you felt. “We’ll go through with this party for our friends, but after that, I don’t want anything to do with you.”
Sunghoon’s shoulders slumped, and he took a step towards you, desperation in his eyes. “Y/n, please. Let me explain. It was a stupid joke. I didn’t mean it.”
You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. “A joke? You think that’s funny? Humiliating me, and then saying you’d do it again? That’s not a joke, Sunghoon. That’s just cruel.”
“I was trying to fit in with the guys,” Sunghoon said, his voice breaking. “I didn’t mean any of it. I’ve been an idiot, but I don’t want to lose you again.”
The sincerity in his voice made your heart ache, but the pain of his words was still too fresh. “You already lost me, Sunghoon,” you whispered. “A long time ago. And this just proves that you don’t care.”
Sunghoon reached out, but you stepped back, putting distance between you. “Y/n, please, don’t do this. We’ve come so far.”
You shook your head, feeling a mix of sadness and anger. “No, Sunghoon. You might think we’ve come far, but we’re right back where we started. I can’t keep doing this.”
With that, you turned and walked away, leaving Sunghoon standing there, looking lost and broken. The weight of your decision settled heavily on your shoulders, but you knew it was the right choice. You couldn’t keep reopening old wounds, hoping they’d heal. You needed to move forward, even if it meant leaving Sunghoon behind.
The rest of the preparations were a blur. You avoided Sunghoon as much as possible, communicating only when absolutely necessary. Every interaction was charged with tension, a constant reminder of the unresolved issues and the hurt still lingering between you. The memories of the overheard conversation haunted you, making it difficult to focus on anything else.
Despite the strained atmosphere, you channeled all your energy into making sure the party went off without a hitch. Your friends noticed the strain but chose to focus on the upcoming celebration, hoping the event would mend the rift.
The party was in full swing. Music blared, lights flashed, and people danced and laughed. You kept your distance from Sunghoon, mingling with friends and trying to enjoy yourself despite the heavy weight on your heart. The venue was beautifully decorated, with fairy lights casting a warm glow over the scene. Everyone seemed to be having a great time, but you couldn’t shake the hurt and betrayal lingering in your mind.
Minji caught you alone near the drinks table and pulled you aside. “Hey, how are you holding up?”
You forced a smile. “I’m fine. Just trying to get through the night.”
She gave you a sympathetic look. “I know things have been tough, but maybe tonight can be a fresh start?”
You sighed, looking over at Sunghoon who was laughing with some friends. “I don’t know, Minji. It’s hard to forget everything that happened.”
“I get it,” she said softly. “But I’ve seen how he looks at you. I think he genuinely wants to make things right.”
Before you could respond, someone called Minji away, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 
As the night wore on, you found yourself on the balcony, staring out at the city lights. The cool night air did little to soothe your turmoil.
You heard footsteps behind you and turned to see Sunghoon approaching. He looked hesitant, his usual confidence replaced by a tentative vulnerability.
“Y/n..” he started, his voice soft. “Can we talk?”
You crossed your arms, trying to protect yourself from more hurt. “What is there to talk about, Sunghoon?”
He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been a jerk, and I know I hurt you. But you have to understand, Jake and I… we have a complicated relationship. I was just trying to impress him, but it was stupid, and I regret it.”
“Why should I believe you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Sunghoon sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Because,” he said, stepping closer, “I miss you. I miss us. And I know I’ve screwed up, but I want to make it right. Not just for tonight, but for good.”
You looked at him, searching his eyes for any hint of deceit. “You think just saying sorry will fix everything? You humiliated me, Sunghoon. You made me feel like I meant nothing to you.”
“I know,” he admitted, his eyes downcast. “I’ve been an idiot. I let Jake’s influence get to me, and I hurt the one person who mattered most. But I swear, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make it up to you.”
“Why now?” you demanded, your voice rising. “Why should I trust you now?”
“Because I’ve realized how much I’ve lost,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “And because I don’t want to lose you again. Not when we’ve been through so much. I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking for a chance to prove I’ve changed.”
Something in his voice, in his eyes, made you want to believe him. The sincerity, the vulnerability—it all felt genuine. And maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to forgive and start anew.
“Okay,” you said softly. “But this time, no more cake pushing.”
Sunghoon laughed, a genuine, warm laugh that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, things could be okay again. “Deal,” he said, offering his hand. “Let’s make a new wish together.”
As you shook his hand, you felt a spark of hope. You both walked back into the party, side by side, and your friends immediately noticed the change. Minji gave you an encouraging smile, and Jake looked pleasantly surprised. Their eyes seemed to convey a silent message of hope and reconciliation, urging you both to embrace this newfound chance at rebuilding your friendship.
Sunghoon led you to the table where the birthday cake sat, a beautifully decorated strawberry shortcake, just like the one from your childhood. The room quieted down as everyone gathered around, sensing the importance of the moment. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, a tangible sense of possibility lingering in the air.
Sunghoon turned to you, his eyes soft with sincerity. “Ready to make a wish?”
You nodded, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement coursing through you. “Ready.”
Together, you both closed your eyes, allowing the weight of the past to momentarily fade into the background. At this moment, there was only the promise of a fresh start, a chance to mend what had been broken between you.
“On three?” Sunghoon asked, his voice a gentle reassurance.
You nodded again, a small smile playing on your lips. “One, two, three.”
You both blew out the candles in unison, the room erupting in cheers and applause. For the first time in years, you felt that familiar warmth of the bond you once shared, slowly but surely being rekindled. The collective joy of the moment washed over you, melting away the layers of resentment and hurt that had accumulated over time.
The night continued with laughter and joy, the tension of the past giving way to the lightness of the present. You found yourself by Sunghoon's side more often than not, the ease of your interactions reminiscent of the friendship you had once cherished.
As the hours passed, you found yourself engaged in heartfelt conversations, sharing memories and dreams with Sunghoon as if no time had passed at all. The barriers that had once divided you seemed to dissolve in the warmth of companionship, leaving behind a renewed sense of connection and understanding.
At one point, amidst the laughter and chatter, Sunghoon leaned in close to you, his voice a whisper in the bustling room. “I’m glad we had this chance, Y/N. I’ve missed you.”
You met his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes echoing the sentiment in your own heart. “I’ve missed you too, Sunghoon. Let’s not lose this again.”
He smiled, a genuine expression of warmth and affection. “We won’t.”
At that moment, surrounded by the people you cared about most, you knew that this was more than just a party—it was a celebration of forgiveness, of second chances, and of the enduring bond between friends. As you looked around at the smiling faces and heard the echoes of laughter filling the air, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the opportunity to rebuild what had once been lost.
And as the night drew to a close, and the last echoes of laughter faded into the night, you found yourselves standing alone in the quiet embrace of the moonlit balcony. The world seemed to hold its breath, anticipation hanging heavy in the air as you gazed into each other's eyes.
Without a word, Sunghoon reached out, his hand cupping your cheek with a tenderness that stole your breath away. And in that fleeting moment, with the stars as witness to your reunion, you leaned in, your lips meeting in a gentle kiss that spoke volumes of the love and forgiveness that had brought you back together.
Now, every day with Sunghoon, whether it’s 365 or 366, will be a reminder of the bond you share—a bond strong enough to weather any storm. As you melted into the warmth of his embrace, you couldn't help but reflect on the journey that had led you here, from the pain of this stupid birthday to the sweetness of this moment, where love and forgiveness triumphed over past hurts.
145 notes · View notes
oxymorayuri · 3 days
Note
HI YURII, i absolutely adore the way you write and i wanted to request some hc’s or a small fic abt law reaction to reader’s pregnancy, likeee how’d he react after telling him and how those 9 months would affect law’s personality and relationship w reader
but only if u want too ofc! thx and have a wonderful dayy <3
A/N: Hi there, my darling ♡
How can I refuse such a lovely request? I feel very honored every time you guys tell me that you enjoy my stories. My heart fills with pride when I read your kind comments.
OneShot or HC? Why not both? Two are better than one!
Here are the headcanons [Law|Ace|Kid|Doffy]
Okay, let's go! Have fun with the OneShot!
✦ Pairing: Trafalgar D. Water Law x Reader ✦ Content: idk, not much, i guess? I'm pretty bad at this lol. bit angst, a little jealousy and endless fluff ✦ Spoiler: none ✦ Description: You're pregnant and Law's reaction is everything you could wish for *-* This OneShot doesn't completely fit the request, hence the HC, hope that's okay :3
Wordcount: 6383
❝𝑌𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠!❞
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It's quite unusual for you to wake up in the middle of the night, but you woke up with an overwhelming craving for something sweet. Falling straight back to sleep is hopeless, so you're forced to stare around the room until perhaps drowsiness sets in.
Aside from the ticking of the clock, it's absolutely silent but you feel as if the ticking is becoming progressively louder 'til you have satisfied your ravenous appetite.
You picture it, the mousse that Ikkaku made… You have no clue how she makes it. You've tried to make it yourself, even following her recipe, but it's just not the same. However, when Ikkaku makes it, it tastes heavenly.
You can feel the foamy dessert melting on your tongue and the subtle hint of dark chocolate spreads through your mouth. Your saliva starts to gather in your mouth... That's enough! You need to eat dessert. Immediately!
The chance of waking Law is high, yet you would kill for a little midnight snack! The only thing is; you have to get out of Law's arms first...
You look at the dark haired man as he sleeps with a peaceful face. One arm around your waist, face to face.
On days like this, when you two haven't had much of each other, you'll at least have your little moments in your shared bed. With your faces turned towards each other, you talk about your busy day… Until one of you falls asleep and that one is usually you.
It's mostly you who talks about your day and Law hangs on your every word while you talk enthusiastically about all sorts of things.
Law is usually a bit reserved, because in his opinion he always does the same thing anyway and you must be getting bored of that. But that's not the case. You love the sparkle in his eyes when he talks about the things he has learned from his book, or when he has got hold of a rare coin.. He always lights up like a little boy who's been at school for the first day.
[throwback]
“…And did you know that an adult's entire intestine is 5 to 7 meters long? Imagine that.” You raise your eyebrow in disbelief.
“Five to seven meters?! No way, how is that supposed to fit?” You stroke your stomach while Law laughs at your bewilderment. Of course you believe him, you believe anything he says. He could tell you every lie and you would believe it immediately, but luckily Law doesn't lie to you. He is sometimes very secretive towards you and keeps a lot to himself like a loner, but he is by no means a liar.
“No joke, you can believe me… I could show you if you like.” Law speaks with a confident self assurance that makes you snort.
His confused eyes look at you insistently and he repeats that he could show you while raising his hand.
“Room!” You immediately realize what he's up to and you reach out with both hands to stop him. He really is planning to show you his intestines. Ah, no thanks.
You shake your head, still chuckling.
“I always believe you, my love… It's just kind of hard to imagine…” - “Yes, I know... I could hardly believe it either. That's why I took my intestine out straight away and measured it.”
You can't take any more. Law speaks with a nonchalance that brings tears to your eyes. You love him for his strangeness, that's what makes him so human.
“Anything for science.” you whisper quietly to him.
No longer interested in how long the human intestine is, you lean over and give him a little kiss. Being with Law is always a learning experience, the special thing is what you learn about Law along the way. About his heart and mind, while he talks about all the things that fascinate him.
Gosh, you adore him so much.
[throwback end]
Law's slight movement snaps you out of your reverie and for a moment you have the chance to slip out of his arms.
Silent as a ninja, you sneak out of your room and scurry into the kitchen.
Once in the kitchen, you can't wait another second and spoon up the dessert right in front of the fridge.
Whilst you let each scoop melt in your mouth, you hear footsteps coming closer to the kitchen. You try to hide, but it's too late because Bepo, who also wanted to sneak into the kitchen, enters.
You look at him like a frozen deer and he gives you a similar look. With your eyes still staring at the polar bear, you slowly bring the spoon to your mouth and devour the chocolate mousse. Without your eyes parting for even a second.
“What are you doing?” You leave the spoon in your mouth and look at him with a tilted head.
“Err, what does it look like…?” Your voice a little muffled, as if you were brushing your teeth. It's obvious what you're doing? With the bowl in your hand, you sit down at the table and wave the Mink over to you.
“Come on, get over here before the mousse is gone.” A little taken aback, he blinks a few times and joins you at the table.
Of course he wants some of the chocolate wonder, so he hurries to you.
You take turns spooning from your bowl and after each bite you hold your hand to your flushed cheek. It tastes simply divine.
However, you barely exchange a word, because it goes without saying that this meeting will remain a secret. You only hear a pleasurable moan and a soft mumble in between.
A few days have passed since then and a few other unusual things have happened. Your cravings have become a little weirder, your sense of smell has increased and fish suddenly no longer tastes good to you! As soon as you smelled sushi, you felt sick to your stomach. Unusual, you thought, but it could have been something else. You didn't think anything else of it and went about your everyday duties, quickly forgetting about the oddities anyway.
Until you got up one morning and ran straight to the toilet. You felt nauseous and it came out faster than you would have liked, so you left the door open and it gushed out of you straight into the toilet.
Your dinosaur like noises woke up the grouchy Law who rubbed his eyes in a drowsy state.
Who or what is that? And why is it so loud?
Law is definitely not a morning person. Talk to him before his coffee and you will see… Well, nothing will happen except that he ignores you and turns around. He won't even talk to you before he takes a sip, but no problem. Isn't it always like this; that a bright person is together with a grumpy one?
Tired, the black haired man sits up and runs his fingers through his tangled hair while still sitting on the edge of the bed with his eyes closed.
The noise is unusually loud and seems as if it is directly in the next room… In the next room… And finally it clicks in his head. You are making that noise.
Law snaps his eyes open, being fully awake now, and hurried to the open bathroom. There he looked down at you with your head almost IN the bowl, unable to stop vomiting.
At first he stood in the doorway, looking somewhat at a loss, until he finally remembered that he was a doctor.
You weren't responsive right now anyway… So Law prepared a few things for you when you finally finished throwing up…
Concerned, he stands behind you with a glass of water in his hand. It seems to be reaaally bad. He doesn't like seeing you like this, your health is important to him, probably more important than his own.
You've noticed for a while that Law is standing behind you and you appreciate him not saying anything. You're not embarrassed, not in front of Law, he's taken care of you before when you've drunk yourself into a coma so the sight shouldn't be that strange. You had to smile a little when you noticed how he tied your hair in a ponytail, so it wouldn't fall in front of your face, while you emptied out your stomach.
“Oh god. There shouldn't be *bleurggh* anything left in my *bleurggh* stomach…” A little out of breath, you lean against the wall next to the toilet.
You're not quite sure if it's the end, but it feels all right.
“I assume it's a little better now?” Tired from throwing up, you look up at him while he hands you the glass of water with a scrutinizing look.
You can't do more than nod half heartedly.
Law walked over to the toilet and flushed the contents, which looked like two days' worth of stomach contents.
He squatted down to you and began to clean your face with a lukewarm cloth. You don't look sick. Your eyelids don't droop and your skin doesn't look too pale. You just look a little worn out, which is no wonder. After all, you've given the toilet the biggest serenade of your life.
“I should take you to the infirmary and run some tests.” His hands reach for yours. With his thumb, he gently strokes the back of your hand and pulls lightly to help you to your feet. A little wobbly on your feet, you hold on to him and smile weakly at him.
“…I'm fine, thank you my love.” A little cold water on your face should be enough, so you go over to the sink to freshen up.
“Don't argue y/n, as your captain and doctor, I'm telling you that I'll give you a check up.” You look at him through the mirror as you run your wet hands through your face and roll your eyes.
“Uh huh, as captain and doctor…”
he groans a little and takes you in his arms from behind
“And as your partner too, of course.”
He kisses you on the cheek and you lean into his embrace with a little chuckle. For just a moment, you can savor your embrace, but the very next second, you find yourself in the same position with him in the infirmary.
That whole shambling around doesn't do you any good at all, you were already feeling sick anyway and you always feel a bit dizzy when he teleports with you. You put your hand over your mouth but it's too late. You quickly rush to a garbage can and fill it with your vomit.
“Hah… Law, that wasn't so clever…” You lean on the bin with both hands as you kneel in front of it.
“Ah…uh…sorry, force of habit…” His words seem a little flustered and as you look over your shoulder you see him sheepishly stroke his beard.
Yep, force of habit… It's definitely not the first time he's teleported you somewhere. Whether he wanted to kidnap you in your busy routine or wanted to steal you away from annoying guys.
He can be a bit jealous sometimes, even if he doesn't say anything, you can see right through him. Honestly, you have to admit to yourself that you enjoy it perhaps a little too much. Law usually reacts rather passively, but at some point things start to get over his limit and he reacts, somewhat flashily…
[throwback]
It's a lovely afternoon on the Sunny, and before you went your separate ways, the Heart Pirates and the Straw Hats wanted to throw a nice party to celebrate your victory.
You had a good time together and formed strong friendships, it makes you a little sad that you won't see each other for a while… but you are sure that your paths will cross again soon.
You keep glancing back to where Law is drinking some sake with Zoro, while Usopp and Luffy were doing all sorts of silly things. You can't help giggling at the sight. Their conversations are also rather short, but somehow they both seem quite relaxed and enjoy the silence between them. Your sweet introvert…
You turn back to the ladies at the table and get into a conversation full of girl stuff and laughter. Right by your side, there's Bepo napping on the floor and while your chin rests in one hand, listening to Nami, you pat Bepo's head with the other.
At your service is none other than Sanji and he serves you with the most distinguished manners. You like Sanji, he is charming and knows how to talk to women and sometimes you allow yourself to have fun and go for it… You don't flirt back, no way! You're crazy about Law and everyone knows it, but you like to have a bit of fun.
“Here my beautiful ladies, I've allowed myself to prepare your favorite drinks.” With grace and style, he holds the tray in his hand and serves you some fresh drinks. He pushes a beautifully decorated cocktail glass in front of you, one with a light blue liquid, topped with whipped cream and blue glitter sprinkles.
You know exactly what kind of drink is in front of you and happily thank the Blondie. How thoughtful he is… he's made you your favorite drink; swimming pool!
You gleefully nip at the straw and let the refreshing drink run down your tongue. As you spoon down some of the cream, you notice that Sanji has used coconut milk ice cubes instead of water ice cubes. How creative! This way the drink doesn't get watered down and only gets creamier and that's exactly how you love your swimming pool - creamy!
“Aww Sanji, you're always so thoughtful and good to us!” With your eyes closed, you enjoy your drink. It's so well prepared that you can barely taste the alcohol; how dangerous.
With your hand on your cheek, you praise the cocktail. Nami gushes with you and sighs contentedly that this is her everyday life... and Sanji loves doing it! That's the best part.
“We're really lucky to have Sanji, aren't we?” Robin giggles, as Sanji loses his temper in a dramatic way. It's as if all the attention is making his heart leap through his chest, and on one knee he babbles something about how it's not just an honor to serve you, but his greatest joy.
He may be a little pushy but isn't he also a little funny? Your girl gang bursts out into laughter, oh dear, if you only knew how Law watches the spectacle from behind with an annoyed expression…
With his chin in his hand, Law taps his cheek a little impatiently with one finger. He can hit on whoever he wants, but does he always have to get so close to you? He's got Nami and Robin to ogle, but you're his!
He knows he doesn't have to be jealous. You're only being friendly to him, as you are to everyone, but the reaction of others is what annoys him. The fact that some people think you're flirting with them, when you're just very kind and approachable (yea guess who's not.) literally pisses Law off.
He is quite sure that no one but himself has a chance with you, in fact he knows that you can become quite different if someone crosses your line… If Law's line hasn't been crossed before… It's pretty different sometimes…
Like today for example, today Law doesn't have that much patience and since Sanji moves in your inner circle, his limits are crossed quite quickly. And maybe all that sake is also to blame.
Because of your lively conversation, you realize far too late, how Law has formed his blue dome over you and just as Nami remarks it, you find yourself already on Law's lap.
Bewildered, you look up at him while his gaze is somewhat serious on Sanji. When he felt your gaze on him, he looked you in the eye with his typical grin and spoke with an absolute calmness that made your heart flutter.
“You all right?” You widen your eyes a little and raise both eyebrows. Is he serious? As if it's such a normal thing to just teleport me onto his lap out of nowhere, like it's the most normal thing in the world.
You know exactly why he did it. You saw the look he gave Sanji, but okay, you just play along. Let's see what happens.
“Yes, of course. Do you need something, love?”
He comes a little closer to you, his gaze melts the ice in your drink because you're getting so hot, but you try not to show it and smile at him innocently.
Before he reaches for the straw, he looks provocatively over to Sanji and drinks from your cocktail.
“You talked so highly of it, I really wanted to try it too, you know?” - “Sure…” like hypnotized you watch him sip from your drink while his eyes rest on your lips.
“You've got some whipped cream on your lip…” you want to quickly wipe the cream away with your hand but Law holds it tight and speaks in a low mellow voice "no, let me..."
Barely a second later, his lips are already on yours and he licks the cream off your lips in a luscious kiss.
You didn't even realize what was happening to you as you sat frozen on his lap. You can only vaguely make out the annoyed murmur of Zoro telling you to get a room or Nami cheering joyfully. You slowly come back to your senses and lean close to his ear, to whisper a few sweet words…
“I love sweet kisses… how 'bout we continue on the Polar Tang?”
Honestly, you love the way Law steals you away. He doesn't do it in an aggressive way, but in a way that makes it clear who you belong to. He never confronts the others, he just shows how in love you are with each other.
If that's not territory marking then you don't know BUT you love it.
His reaction is as expected. You know that look all too well. There's something overwhelming about the way Law's beautiful eyes run over your face as you innocently bite your lip. You could swear his eyes darken and he runs his tongue over his lower lip with a grin.
His grip tightens and his laugh deepens so that you can feel the vibration of his voice.
“Good idea.” He places a small kiss on your cheek before saying goodbye to the others. The question marks are written all over your face. You really just wanted to tease him, but you could have guessed what is about to happen.
You barely managed to wave goodbye before you found yourself back in your room on the Polar Tang. And well, you know it's obvious what will happens next… ;)
[throwback end]
“All right, so far so good. Now just a small blood check and then we'll be on the safe side.” His words bring you out of your memory and you look at his back. At a small table, he prepares a syringe to take some of your blood.
With concentration, he turns around and traces along your arm to locate a suitable vein.
“Could you make a fist?” You do as he says and he nods in response. When he had found a suitable spot, you were allowed to relax your hand and he smoothly drew the blood into the tube.
You watch him in complete devotion as he looks attentively at the syringe. Your eyes meet for a moment before he quickly returns to his task and presses a band aid onto the needle mark.
“That's it.” Again, he turns away from you to dispose the materials properly. A little disappointed, you slide down with your butt from the stretcher. You wish you could have watched him a little longer. He always looks so handsome when he's fully concentrated on his work.
“When will the results be ready?” you ask curiously as you look over his shoulder. By now you're feeling much better, you're sure it's nothing serious.
“Give me a few hours and I should have something out.” - “Hardworking as ever.” You gently stroke his shoulder as you went to turn around and Law quickly reached for your hand.
He gently pulls you close to give you a kiss on the back of your hand, his eyes always have a powerful effect on you and your cheeks turn a soft pink.
“We should go for breakfast, you should regain your energy. Go ahead, I'll clean up and come straight away.” Your heart softens at his care.
“I'll make us some coffee then.” Satisfied, he nods at you and lets go. In a good mood, you walk along the corridors of the cold Polar Tang, humming a bright melody.
The day went on as usual, the work on the Polar Tang was pure routine. A few small repairs here and inspections there. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just as you were about to leave the engine room to write your report, you bump into your friend.
“Heyyy y/n, already done with work?” You look up from your notes and have a chat with Ikkaku. After an waaay too short talk, you part ways as her beeper has gone off and she quickly went back to work. Apparently she has a lot to do... Your eyes go back to your list. You need to talk to Law, because you're slowly running out of materials for the maintenance of your submarine.
You've been underwater for quite a while now and you should be ascending soon. Ikkaku could probably use some materials too, maybe you should do a general inventory and make a supply list with Law. Just as you were about to turn around to go to Ikkaku to start with her, your beeper sounds.
A quick glance at your black device tells you that Law wants to talk to you, so you turn around again.
So, then you'll start the list tomorrow. After all, you'll be traveling for a few more days before you reach the next island...
You can't quite believe your ears and you stand in front of Law with your mouth open, completely frozen. Your pretty brain has to process this information first. You actually want to say something but don't quite know how to start the sentence.
“Y-you say I'm pregnant?!!!” You automatically reach for your belly.
“How could this happen?!” you look up at Law, unsure of how you should feel. To be honest, you're a little overwhelmed, but it's not actually a bad thing. You're actually at the age where it's appropriate, aren't you?
Law, who is leaning against his table in front of you, takes a breath to explain to you HOW this could have happened, in a physical and medical sense.
With knitted eyebrows, you shake your hand in front of Law in order to stop him. You know how, but somehow you're surprised. You often hear that the birth control failed here and there and the woman got pregnant, but somehow you think it would never happen to you and now it's happened to you.
Surprise, surprise.
You drop into a chair and look a little defeated.
“Shit…” you mutter. Law takes the results of your blood report and tries to change the subject.
“But hey, judging by your results, you're perfectly healthy and have the best possible condition for the baby." He turns the page to check a few more things.
“We should probably just get some more sun and fresh air for your wellbeing. Your vitamin D levels are a little low… No wonder down here…” In his head, he makes a mental note to talk to Bepo and Hakugan about surfacing today.
That sounds as if…
“Do you want me to keep the child?” You look up at him, a little surprised. A pleasant excitement spreads through your chest at the thought that Law will be the father of your child.
His eyes peek over the edge of the paper, looking down at you. He examines your glazed eyes, places the papers on the table and crouches down in front of you to be closer to you.
“Do you want to keep the child, y/n?” he notices that you're a little unsure, but that's okay. That's normal... but he will follow your final decision. No matter what you decide, he will stand by you and make sure you are both safe and happy.
Somehow it all feels surreal. You and Law are having a baby. That will change everything now, but you're longing to find out what it's like. You shrug your shoulders a little sheepishly.
“Uh-huh… kind of, yea.” Somewhat embarrassed, you smile at him. For you, getting together with Law has always been like hitting the jackpot, but you'd never thought about you two becoming parents.
But dear, if you only knew how Law sees you… He'd be lying if he said he wasn't happy about becoming a dad, but right now you're coming first, since you're feeling 'a little under the water'. [sorry but I couldn't help myself, lol]
“Well, I guess we have something to celebrate, don't we?“
Law's grin makes you smile. Somehow he always pushes the right buttons with you. With his charming looks, his cunning manner and clever little head, he always manages to mess with your feelings. You've never felt this way about anyone before and you weren't exactly a virgin before… Now that you're becoming parents, you feel like you're starting to really mature with Law.
“How are we going to tell them?” Parties are not his thing, you know that, but as soon as the others find out, they want to throw a party anyway.
He seems to be thinking deeply as he plays with your fingers.
“Maybe we'll just throw a party…” you look down at him in surprise, but he explains why.
“I know for a fact that we won't be able to avoid it…” a small giggle slips out of your mouth and you gently squeeze his hand, but Law breaks your eye contact.
“Well, I won't be able to get around it…” You're never against a fun party, but after an hour Law's social battery is usually drained and he disappears into his study.
“Not a bad idea, actually. If we plan the party, we can be sure that it won't be too chaotic. Let's keep it simple.” Law is pleased that you share the same thought. Well, it's probably because you can't party as hard as usual, but it doesn't make you sad. Somehow the joy slowly sets in.
Law gets up and pulls you up with him while you both hold hands. Without saying a word, he takes you in his arms and you breathe in his calming scent. At this very moment you just feel so good, even though you were so scattered until a few moments ago, you are sure that everything will work out with Law by your side.
You're kind of excited. The crew thinks you're throwing a party because you're resurfacing today and they believe that cheap lie, but what pirate crew needs a reason to throw a party? They probably don't give it a second thought and are happy to have food and booze under the sun.
In a good mood, you hum a little tune in the kitchen while you prepare a few treats in the kitchen. At some point, Shachi comes by and you tell him that he shouldn't be snacking, but he just laughs cheekily at you and stuffs a filled onigiri into your mouth. You hum contentedly as you taste the tuna cream.
“You're getting better and better y/n, the shape is a real triangle this time too!” you smack him on the back of the head and huff in offense.
He's used to it and your blows don't even really hurt so he just laughs as he rubs his head.
“I'm sure Law will be more than pleased.” Without a care in the world, he picks another treat from the little buffet you've set up and disappears into the corridor.
Your gaze rests on your bitten onigiri. You are secretly thrilled that he thinks Law will be happy. You wonder if he is looking forward to your current situation in general.
After you surfaced with the Polar Tang, Law and a few others set up the deck. Tables and benches were set up and you and Ikkaku hung up some hanging garlands to make it look more festive. After putting the finishing details on the final appearance, you put your hands on your hips in satisfaction while Law stepped to your side.
“They really don't suspect anything…” he whispers in your ear.
You just smile to yourself. After all, it just seems like you're having a party as usual. The buffet, the decorations, the festive lights and a small bar on the deck are just the same as usual.
Law doesn't know it, but you couldn't help yourself and had to tell Ikkaku about it immediately. After all, she's your best friend. You can definitely trust her not to spill the beans and it shouldn't be too difficult because you're throwing the party today anyway. She even offered to prepare a few desserts. With hearts in your eyes, you accepted her offer, of course.
All in all, it was an evening like any other with your crew. There was laughter, some dancing, a lot of goofing around and singing. Avoiding the alcohol was quite difficult, but luckily Ikkaku was your knight in shining armor. She always swapped your cup with hers, with only water inside, in an discreet fashion.
As the sunset glowed over your submarine and the atmosphere on deck calmed down allowing everyone to enjoy the last rays of sunshine, Law decided that now was the perfect time to spread the news.
He raised his glass and tapped it lightly with his fork so that everyone's attention was drawn to him by the clinking sound.
A few of the pirates look up at him in surprise. It's not that unusual for Law to make a speech from time to time, but there shouldn't be any special reason for him to make one today. Or maybe there is?
Glances go round among themselves. You smile knowingly to yourself as you watch the confusion on their faces.
“Sometimes there are unexpected twists and turns on our travels and sometimes it's the best thing that could have happened to us. In the end, everything always turned out well and that's only because we trusted and helped each other. We may be pirates, but we are also…” - “A FAMILY” Penguin and Sachi cry and shout in unison.
Law's words are unexpectedly touching. His words are always wise and uplifting… but this time he not only speaks from the heart, but with it and everyone is moved to the core.
You could cry because you know why he uses such beautiful words. With a satisfied grin, he agrees with the men.
“Exactly. We are a family and today y/n and I want to announce something to you.” Little by little, questioning glances wander to you and Law nods to you with an encouraging expression on his face. He now leaves you the honor of continuing.
“I'm pregnant!” you blurt out in a squeaky voice.
The looks go back and forth between you two in a rather funny way while the surprise is written all over everyone's face.
All of a sudden, the group erupts into a joyful roar and congratulations are given to you. Ikkaku can finally take you in her arms, her eyes overflowing with tears. A few of the men are shaking hands with Law while Bepo rushes up to Law and almost crushes him in a hug.
Your heart bursts as you watch the cheering crowd and stroke Ikkaku's back in a soothing manner as she utters some incomprehensible words of joy…
In the chaotic happiness, your and Law's eyes met. He seems as happy as you feel.
The atmosphere were already great before, but now it's just amazing.
They raise a toast to both of you and your little one, while Penguin and Shachi fight over which of them gets to listen and feel your belly first. You have to laugh at their goofiness, because there's not much of the typical pregnancy belly to be seen yet.
Bepo comes running towards you with cute beady eyes and gives you a warm embrace. He snuggles up to your head and you brush against his soft fur…
You hear his soft sniffle and in a low voice he whispers to you how happy he is for you guys.
“You're going to be great parents!” You wipe a small tear of joy from his face and pull yourself together so that you don't burst into tears yourself, but you're just too emotional. Your walls collapse and the tears roll down your cheeks.
The rest of the gang decides to come up to you and engages even Law in a huge group hug. It touches you more than anything how happy your friends are for you.
You can hardly wait to tell your friends the Straw Hats. You wonder how they will react. You secretly hope that it will be the reason you'll see each other sooner than you thought.
You really want to go shopping with Ikkaku, Robin and Nami for the baby!
You let the evening fade away together until at some point it was just you and Law.
The evening got a bit chilly and before you could even get cold, Law put his coat around you. Thanking him with a quiet smile, you can still see the joy on his face… And you? You can still hardly believe it. You're going to be parents… but you're still thinking about how Law really feels. He's obviously happy but you wish you could hear what he's thinking.
“Law, tell me, how do you feel?” Your eyes are fixed on the sea. You watch the glittering reflection of the moon in the water, while his gaze rests on you.
“I don't know. I kind of feel everything. Excitement, joy but also some fear.” Your gaze quickly goes up to him, but his eyes are now on the open sea.
The fact that he feels the same as you is somehow reassuring. You're a bit jealous of him for always keeping such a cool head, because unlike you, he seemed so calm and confident the whole time.
“You know y/n, when I went through the results today I could hardly believe my eyes when I realized why you were feeling bad.” With his arms leaning against the railing, he smiled down at you.
“I thought my heart stopped working and when it started beating again, a new feeling was born...” The glimmer in his eyes is as calming as a fire, that is about to fade out.
You are not used to so many touching words and your heart starts beating quicker with each word. The way he says everything is saved in your brain like a video and you dare not to speak a word.
He turns his upper body towards you and moves a little closer to gently brush a strand of hair out of your face. A little hesitantly, he begins to speak again, as if searching for the right words in your eyes.
“A feeling... that I thought I had long lost… The feeling of having a family.”
Okay y/n don't cry. Don't cry!
Law kisses your forehead as he wipes a tear from your face. The feeling of his warm lips disappears faster than you'd like, though, and Law takes a step back to get down on one knee.
With his gaze fixed on your eyes, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box. You know what this means but you fail to move or say anything. Wide eyed, you follow Law's movements.
“I wanted to do this much earlier… but somehow I didn't find the right time… or maybe I was just waiting for this very moment?” Law isn't quite sure himself where he gets these words from, but so much has changed after today. He opens the box and your gaze falls on the sparkling ring.
“Y/n will you marry me?”
With quivering lips, you nod at him while tears flow like a waterfall and you throw yourself onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
You usually have a lot to say, but this time Law has left you completely speechless.
You could have said yes a thousand times but it would never be enough to make it clear how much you want to be his wife.
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A/N: Oh well… Law. I bet you'd be great as a dad.
I hope you enjoyed it ♡
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Text
Stuff of Fairytales - Floyd
Author Notes: Happy MerMay Twisted Wonderland! I won't lie, this fic kind of flew together while I was just sitting and chatting with my mom and sister. It doesn't have any specific music that it was written to or anything like that and my only real idea that went into this was MerMay. Nonetheless, I had fun writing this fic. As per usual, Reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!
Type: Gender-neutral reader/ MerMay/ fluff/ romance implied/ sfw
Word Count: 1264
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Ignoring Floyd was always something that one did at one’s own risk. Especially when he was staring quite as pointedly as he was staring at me right now. And even more especially so considering that I was sitting on the edge of the pool while Floyd was in his merform.
He drifted over, and I cautiously met his stare, not entirely sure as to what I should expect from him.
For one thing, he’d been oddly peaceful this entire time. And while that didn’t necessarily mean anything, it still felt suspiciously like the calm before a storm.
He tilted his head, slowly coming to a steady stop right in front of me before crossing his arms and resting them on my knees, where I had my legs hanging over the edge of the pool and in the cool water, “Hey Shrimpy, did your world have any merpeople?” 
His tone was relatively innocent, but I still felt my eyebrows lift warily before I shook my head. Half-surprised by his question even as I answered him, “No… They’re the stuff of fairytales in my world…. Kind of like magic is.”
He hummed, rolling his mismatched eyes up to meet mine as he rested his chin on his arms. Almost as if he were, suspiciously enough, trying to look innocent.
I watched him silently for a moment before finally biting the bullet and questioning him as he continued to stare up at me, “Why?”
That singular word had a grin splitting its way across his face, perfectly displaying his too-sharp teeth that made so many others uncomfortable.
But just like how I’d somehow gotten used to his merform’s slimy texture, I was perfectly used to his sharp-toothed grins by now.
“Nothing~ It just explains why you had such a cute, surprised reaction when you first saw mine and Jade’s merforms.”
I rolled my eyes slightly at his teasing tone, even as I smiled despite myself at his words, “You say that like I was the only one who was surprised. I seem to recall Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Grim all being pretty shocked too.”
Despite my words, I couldn’t deny that I had been genuinely startled. Floyd and Jade were nothing like the fluttery, magical creatures I’d imagined as a child. Instead, they were far more dangerous-looking. Something that was fitting, considering their personalities.
But even then, there had still been something enchanting about seeing a merperson for the first time. Much less two of them.
Not that I was ever going to tell Floyd that. He was already amused enough as it was.
Floyd faux-pouted up at me in an almost playful manner, “But none of them were cute. They just looked like a bunch of guppies silently opening and closing their mouths.”
He paused as I fought the urge to snort at his analogy, and, as if somehow he could sense my amusement, he grinned again. His tail slashing through the water as his eyes all but sparkled at me, “You weren’t like that though, Shrimpy. Your eyes were all bright. Like you were excited.”
I almost sighed at his pointed, pleased-sounding words. Because while I couldn’t say that they were wholly accurate, they were a little too perceptive in a way that I could only describe as very Octavinelle.
Floyd, Jade, and Azul were all practically uncanny when it came to their ability to hit upon something people didn’t want them to know.
“I wasn’t excited….” I trailed off unconvincingly, not entirely sure how to defend myself in this situation since he wasn’t entirely wrong.
Lying would be useless. Floyd was so used to his brother’s slippery nature that he would be able to see through any fib I came up with in a nanosecond.
I didn’t have to rush, though. Floyd was waiting. An amused smile on his face as he waited for me to give up in a rare display of patience from the usually restless young man.
But then, I supposed being patient might be easier when victory was assured. His grin wasn’t making it any easier for me to come up with an excuse, though.
“Well, how would you react if you suddenly saw something out of a fairytale?!” I gave up in an exasperated half-surrender.
I refused to tell Floyd that a slight bit of childish enchantment and awe had shot through me when I’d first seen him and his brother’s merforms.
Doing that would just result in him telling his brother, and then there really would be no escaping the teasing and harassment.
As it was, I would just have to put up with Floyd’s teasing and amusement until he drifted onto another topic. He might bring back up my initial reaction to his merform every so often, but I could deal with that. 
After all, it was only fair with how often I got to pick him on numerous things as well.
At odds with my expectations of his laughter, Floyd straightened from where he’d been resting his chin on his arms this entire time and tilted his head in a thoughtful fashion.
After a brief moment, he grinned, and something ever-so-slightly worrying flickered through his mismatched eyes as he met my gaze once more, “I guess I’d squeeze ‘em.”
Before I could even think about reacting, his arms were wrapping themselves around my waist. Pulling me closer and squeezing me with a surprising degree of care considering who it was that I was dealing with.
I gasped slightly in surprise at both his actions and the cold from his wet arms, my hands flying up and grabbing hold of his shoulders in a slight panic. Not entirely trusting him to not pull me into the pool with him.
I didn’t go splashing down into the water though, and my reaction only caused Floyd to grin even more at me, “Your reactions are too much fun, Shrimpy~”
His words were all but cooed, and I frowned slightly, “Floyd, you know your slime is hard to get out of clothes.”
I scolded him in retaliation, continuing to frown down at him, but my words were met with little more than a nonchalant shrug from the merman, who certainly didn't seem like he was going to be letting go of me anytime soon.
In fact, he seemed perfectly content, smiling up at me from the pool that I was now perched precariously on the edge of. Fully relying on Floyd to keep me balanced as he held onto me.
He smiled, tilting his head slightly, perfectly unbothered as he grinned up at me, “Just use the washer at Octavinelle and tell Azul it’s my fault.”
I sighed at his words, feeling myself surrender ever-so-slightly as I let a smile slip onto my face. Sometimes it really did feel like there was no winning against Floyd, and, to be fair, his plan probably would work.
Azul was nothing if not used to Floyd’s mercurial ways that often caused him troubles. 
I relaxed, letting my hands continue to rest easily on Floyd’s shoulders as I smiled down at him, “Just don’t come whining to me later.”
 He outright grinned at my words, his eyes sparkling in an almost challenging way, “No promises~”
I shook my head fondly at both him and his words as I continued to smile down at the man who hugged me close to him.
Floyd himself might not exactly be the stuff of fairytales, but he was definitely  unforgettable, and there wasn’t a thing I would change about him. 
Even if he could be a pest sometimes.
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amourtoken · 1 day
Text
Good morning!
it's finally time for me to elaborate on the beloved sleep paralysis demon iii post.
I don't typically write structured fic so I apologize if this rambles too much I'm not a big fan but wanted to get the thoughts out lol
*NSFW below the cut, MDNI*
cw: dubcon (I wouldn't say noncon entirely, however if non specific consent bothers you pls be careful this is definitely a rough pairing), forced breeding, ig you could consider this somno and/or bondage to a degree, condescending ass iii, threatening/toxic behavior, creepy iii (ofc he's literally inhuman), borderline stalking? He's a demon feeding off your energy so take that as you wish. Tentacles if you squint, oral (f receiving)
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♡ god lmao this has been itching at the back of my mind for weeks bc I myself go thru sleep paralysis pretty often and I'd do anything for some fun hallucinations rather than the weird ones I tend to experience 💀
♡ anyway
♡ you'd been having trouble sleeping recently, always tossing and turning and never being able to fall very deeply under. It's starting to really effect your day to day and you can't seem to concentrate on anything cause you're so fucking tired all the time. You can't help but notice this all started shortly after some paranormal instances in your apartment. Since then, you swore someone was staring at you every time you laid down. Strange.
♡ once the weekend hit you swore you were gonna try and catch up on sleep to start the next week off better. You even went to bed early, how convenient for him.
♡ iii had taken a liking to you. Typically he'd look for any random host to leech off of for a while and leave when things went too far (ex: accidentally leaving past hosts in comatose states with no explanation), but with you he couldn't help but want to drag it out. You always went to bed in the cutest outfits and he got off on the fact you had no fucking clue he was watching.
♡ that feeling of someone watching you was because he absolutely was. If you weren't asleep, he was concealing himself so he could watch you. His eyes followed your hands as they tugged the waistband of your pants down, bending over just enough to give him a pretty view as you stripped down for bed. He was gonna have so much fun with you tonight.
♡ he impatiently waited for you to finish your night time routine, pacing your bedroom unbeknownst to you the entire time. It was a little chilly in there, maybe you forgot the a/c was on? (Or a literal inhuman being was feet away from you, but who's first guess is that?)
♡ once you finally fell asleep, he jumped to his plan. God he'd been waiting so long for this, he wished he could just reveal himself to you and have it be mutual but he knew it wouldn't be a positive experience for you, so this would have to do for now. Maybe you'd enjoy yourself, maybe you'd wanna do it again?
♡ iii quietly crossed over to you, eyes drinking you in. He'd seen you naked before but this time would definitely be different. You looked so peaceful he almost felt bad...not that it would stop him, he's just taking mental notes. His cold hands met the skin just under the hem of your shirt, sliding up to your sternum and splaying across your stomach. God you were so warm...you squirmed uncomfortably at the sensation but didn't wake up, his presence caused a prickling pins and needles sensation to spread across your skin.
♡ iii continues, sliding his hands from your stomach down to your hips, hooking his fingers under the waistband of your shorts and tugging them off. He ran his hands back up your thighs, sighing heavily squeezing at your plush hips. You were so soft to him, unattainable. Which is why he felt the need to make himself known this way, you'd never agree otherwise (or would you?)
♡ he settled himself at the end of your bed, arms hooking around your thighs as he tugged you forward to rest your legs on his shoulders. This motion unfortunately was a little too eager, waking you up much earlier than he planned. Unfortunately for you, your eyes being open was about all you could manage. Your body felt so fucking heavy and your brain felt foggy, pins and needles pricked across your skin as your heart rate kicked up. The sight of iii between your legs sent you into near hysterics, hyperventilating pathetically as you tried your best to move anything but couldn't.
♡ "I'm sorry. I hope you understand I had to keep you under a bit. It's for your own good." He breathed against your skin, his hands felt so cold against your contrasting warmth. Was any of this real? Surely it couldn't be.
♡ it definitely felt real when he buried his face in your pussy.
♡ iii had a whole speech planned but like the rest of the night, his plans went out the window. He needed to feel you, to taste you right now. It was definitely abrupt but fuck you were just so sweet he couldn't help it. His arms squeezed your thighs tightly and held you closely to his face. His tongue felt pretty normal at first aside from being ice cold but that quickly changed when you realized just how long it was.
♡ the stretch of having well over a foot's length of cryptid tongue buried in your pussy was definitely new, and he was enjoying himself as much as possible. A hand left your thigh to press on your stomach, feeling the writhing of his tongue through your skin as he filled you entirely. You made his head spin and all you were doing was laying there, the other hand that had been on your thigh shifted to rub tight circles on your clit as he fucked into you with his tongue.
♡ you tried your best to squirm and make noises of protest but at best all that came out was a strangled whine which made iii smile against your pussy. He could feel you squeezing against his tongue and he tried his best to fuck himself deeper into you. The pricking sensation in your body concentrated right in your stomach as he drug you through your first orgasm. All you could do was lay there and let the sensation wash over your body, eyes rolling back while his fingers slowed their motion against your clit.
♡ iii sat back, retracting his tongue and leaving you feeling impossibly empty. He admired the slick mess he made between your legs before tugging his pants down just enough to free his length. Everything about him was fucking massive no wonder his cock was the same. He leaned over you and buried his face against your neck, pressing messy kisses all over your throat and collar while his hands explored your upper body. His cold fingers brushed your nipples and pulled a pathetic whine from you. He made a point to pinch and tease at your nipples with one hand while the other traced circles on your clit with the head of his cock.
♡ normally you could at least close your legs or squirm away from the overstimulation but his presence had you locked in and still. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you felt yet another orgasm creeping through your body like an electric current. iii leaned back just to toss your legs over his shoulders and fold you into a mating press with a dramatic huff. Your eyes widened in surprise at the action before rolling back in your head as he slammed into you in a single motion.
♡ fuck he was big, every thrust made the messiest slick sound and drew deep groans from his chest. "Fuck, this pretty pussy grips my fuckin cock so good...why did I wait so fuckin long to have you-" he drew out almost entirely before hilting himself again, bullying your poor cervix and creating a visible bulge in your belly.
♡ he fucked into you like he literally wanted to split you in half. He was panting pathetically against your ear while gripping your hips tight to keep you steady. the drag of his cock against your walls was pulling you ever closer to a third orgasm and you swore you couldn't handle it but that wouldn't put a dent in his harsh rhythm. Feeling you pulse around his cock actually only aided in making it worse.
♡ his hips stuttered slightly, making him dig his nails into your soft skin to try and steady himself. "Fuck- gonna fill you up- gonna look so pretty full of my kids, yeah? G-gonna breed you so good-" he was really struggling to keep pace, he didn't wanna cum yet, he wanted to spend more time with you :((
♡ unfortunately, one sloppy thrust later it threw you both over the edge. You falling first only served to pull him down with you and he moaned harshly against your neck, the sound breaking into a whimper as he kept fucking his cum into you. If you could be, you'd be trembling and begging him to stop cause you couldn't take much more. So overly sensitive from his other actions.
♡ he only pulled out when he literally couldn't take it anymore, twitching profusely at the overstimulating feeling. iii sat back on his heels in front of you, admiring the mess he'd made you into. How were you going to explain the littered fingerprint shaped bruises across your hips or the insane dark hickeys across your neck and chest to anyone? No one else would believe you, but nonetheless you were branded just for him. He'd love a round 2, but knew he had to let you out of your stasis eventually.
♡ regrettably, he slid off your bed and disappeared. Not before pressing a cold kiss to your forehead. Once he was out of view, you gasped as feeling slowly returned to your now aching limbs. Did any of that really just happen?
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nico-di-genova · 3 days
Text
A Lesson in Braking
Chapter 2
Read on Archive of Our Own
A/N: hehehehehehe (my only thoughts while writing this fic).
Warnings: NSFW and a brief mention of anti-harm dorm furniture.
“I fucked an old guy last night,” Lance says to Esteban, when he’s lying on the floor of his dorm room, head resting on the Spider-Man pillow he bought Esteban for his birthday last spring. “Behind the Barnes & Noble. Hand job.”
Esteban hums. He’s  sitting at his desk that he’s moved to slot beneath the single small window of his room, curled over his laptop and working on some complex string of numbers. Three weeks into the semester and Esteban is already drowning in assignments – Lance doesn’t envy him.
“He ate my cum,” he continues, picking at a fraying edge of the pillow. When he pulls at the red string it snags on the fabric and then releases, growing longer in Lance’s grip. He should buy Esteban a new one, maybe a whole bedspread to match. The thought occurs that he could buy a matching set, just to sleep on during the nights when he’s too drunk to get back to his own place and crashes in the living room.
Esteban hums again, pushes his glasses further up his nose, keeps clicking away on his laptop so that the number sequence only grows longer. Lance can only catch pieces of it from where he’s lying on the floor, head angled backward to stare up at Esteban as he works. But even the small bit he can see is enough to give him a headache.  
“When I kissed him I tasted it.”
That gets him.
Esteban sighs, leans back in the chair as far as it will go given its anti-tip design – dorm furniture made to prevent kids from hanging themselves from their light fixtures – rubs at the bridge of his nose and then falls back forward with a groan.
“You’re telling me this, why?”
Lance pouts, tips his head further back on the pillow so he can get a better look at Esteban with one arm on the back of his chair, leaning down to stare at him with mild judgement.
“You don’t want to know about the old man sex I had?”
“I can barely tolerate hearing about the normal sex you have.”
Lance laughs. The spider-man plush, also bought by Lance from the birthday trip to Disneyland last spring, rises and falls on his stomach with the movement. Technically, he has homework for his intro to Marketing class, but it’s more fun to laze around on Esteban’s dirty floor, talking about his sex life, than it is to learn about how to make people buy things. Besides, he’s grown up listening to his dad rant about his successes in the industry, so much so that his first word might as well have been entrepreneurship. It shouldn’t be a hard class to pass.
The dorm room is so tiny he almost runs the whole length of it, one foot nearly to the door, his head at the base of Esteban’s chair, one knee propped in the air. One of his arms is spread wide enough that it’s laying underneath Esteban’s bed, fingers toying with the shoelace of a sneaker that’s been kicked off underneath. It’s a familiar sight by this point, Lance taking up space in Esteban’s room, his life, with ease and spreading out enough that he can be found in nearly every corner of it. Esteban always makes room for him, sometimes will join him on the floor when his course load isn’t too much. But junior year is already different from the two prior, kicking off with a speed that is giving Lance whiplash.
He misses Sovi, the freshman dorms that once made him feel caged, but provided infinitely more freedom in that they weren’t tied to the paths that had led them here.
“My normal sex life just involves Pato, you’d rather hear about me fucking Pato?” He asks, smirks, just barely dodges the pencil Esteban flicks down at him.
“I don’t want to hear about you fucking anyone! Get a journal!”
Lance muses, “I guess there was also that one guy a few weeks ago. From that party in Q,” the building a few doors down from Esteban’s. It sat on the shore of the lake and far enough away from the central hub that university police tended to overlook it. Esteban had called Lance four beers deep a week into school and told him to get there quick, didn’t specify where ‘there’ was, so Lance had to use Find My to even locate him. When he’d pulled up the party had been in full swing on the third floor, and he was welcomed into the cramped apartment by Esteban who reeked of alcohol and weed. Lance ended up fucking one of the guys who lived there, riding him hurriedly and enduring the guy keeping a sweaty palm pressed to his mouth so he didn’t make too much noise in the room they’d locked themselves in.
 Esteban squints at him, “You said that guy was shit.”
“He was.” He came first and then didn’t even bother to get Lance off.
“So why the fuck would you want to talk about it again?”
“Because you don’t want to hear about the good old man sex.”  
Esteban’s nose crinkles in disgust, “Well how old was he?”
“I didn’t ask.”
The mechanical engineering is quickly forgotten, Esteban spinning around fully in his chair and staring at Lance with wide eyes. Lance grins up at him innocently, flutters his eyelashes, scoots over on the pillow as a silent invitation for the man to join him on the ugly blue carpeted floor. Esteban doesn’t take it, yet, Lance is still confident he can convince him.
“How old did he look?”
“I don’t know, forties maybe?”
“Forties?! What the fuck, Lance!?”
“What?”
The deadpan stare Esteban gives him isn’t new, it’s pretty standard actually. “You are insane. And stupid.”
Lance, because he likes testing his luck, pushing at the boundaries of his and Esteban’s friendship, seeing where the line is so he can be prepared for when it snaps, keeps going, “I’m seeing him again tonight.”
He wishes he’d been filming, just so he could preserve the way Esteban’s eyes get impossibly wider. Finally, Esteban gets out of the chair, but he doesn’t join Lance on the floor, instead he paces the length of the room, hands held on his head and mumbles a rapid string of words that Lance doesn’t quite get but he thinks are mainly swears.
“You are joking, yes? Tell me you are joking.” Hands on his hips, towering over Lance, he looks like a giant. Tall and lanky with big eyes behind his wire-rimmed frames.
Lance hadn’t been. He’s been texting Fernando since late last night, ignoring calls from his dad in the process. So far the conversation has consisted of little substance, just enough to establish that Lance is a junior, Fernando is retired, and lives in one of the mansions on the other side of the lake that is right outside Esteban’s prison cell-sized window. Mainly they’d talked about Fernando’s cock, how Lance is upset he didn’t get to see it, taste it – how he’d like to return the favor preferably outside of the backseat of a car and somewhere a bit more comfortable.
He wants to be called beautiful again, reverently, spread out on silk sheets and spread open by Fernando’s fingers. He blames the accelerated horniness on the dry summer he’d just had, the time spent at his father’s house with little else to do and no one to hook up with because Lawrence had insisted on spending as much time as he could with Lance. They’d gone to the track to watch a few races, the office where Lance was meant to be shadowing, galas and banquets, and the golf course most mornings so Lawrence could ensure Lance actually had something to show for the tuition he was fronting. Lance knows it was mainly a last ditch effort on his dad’s behalf to maintain their relationship, before Lance slipped off back to Florida and began predictably sending him to voicemail. Which is why he had even bothered enduring it in the first place, when he just as easily could has gone off to the Mykonos with a group of guys from his frat.
He'd refrained from debauchery all summer, was paying the price for his abstinence now. But, like always, the cost was something to which Lance paid very little, until the bill began to raise eyebrows, as Esteban’s now are.
“Lance. Tell me you are joking!”
“Why would I be joking?”
Esteban glares down at him, while Lance sprawls out further across the thin carpet, concrete flooring beneath digging into his shoulder blades, and smiles. It’s wide, lazy, slow to draw across his face. The sort of shit-eating, self-assured, smirk that Esteban hates.
“It was good sex, Este! He did this thing-“
“Stop! No! Stop! I don’t want to know.”
Lance stops, goes quiet, but continues to smirk. In his pocket, he feels his phone vibrate, probably Fernando again. They’re meant to be meeting in a few hours, once the suns gone down enough that being outside doesn’t make him feel like he’s melting. When Fernando can take him to the bar in the shopping plaza nearby and treat him to a beer before he fucks him senseless, as he’s been promising all day.
He doesn’t tell Esteban this, figures he’s maybe traumatized him enough for the day. Instead, he changes the topic to Esteban’s course load, feigns interest in the math still open on his laptop. Esteban is all too willing to explain it to him, to turn his attention away from the phone Lance pulls from his pocket and grins at with cheeks turning red.
Fernando has sent him a photo of his outfit, button of his slacks undone, zipper pulled low,  hand holding the waistband below his hips. He has a tattoo on the inside of his forearm, close to his wrist, something Lance hadn’t noticed in the dark of his car last night, but that he now can’t draw his eyes away from. It’s a cross of some sort, produces the sort of sacrilegious thoughts that he can’t linger on for too long for fear of losing his religion.
‘Wear something nice,’ Fernando’s text says, when he manages to read it.
Lance doesn’t own much that fits the description, other than a suit he saves for formals, but he figures it maybe doesn’t actually matter that much. Fernando promises to rip whatever it is off of him anyway.
Esteban throws another pencil at him when he tries to show him the photo, holds his hand up to block the view and then lands the writing utensil right on Lance’s nose.
------------
His dad calls when he’s fresh out of the shower of his own apartment, steam curling in the air around him and his phone vibrating steadily against the granite countertops of his humid bathroom. He answers before it goes to voicemail, figures he owes his dad this because it’s the third time he’s called since that morning, and he doesn’t want to risk pissing the man off too much.
“Hey,” he says as he’s wrapping a towel around his waist, slicking his wet hair back out of his face with his free hand. He leaves the phone on speaker, lets his dad’s voice fill space as he busies with getting ready.  
“I’m going to assume you’ve been ignoring my calls because you are going to class.”
He only has one class on Tuesday’s, and it’s finished by noon. Advanced golf merchandising, a pointless elective where he’s meant to be learning the management of a retail location. He takes notes, enough to retain the important bits, but he already knows management isn’t where he’s going to end up. His dad would secure him some corporate position within his company before that was even an option. Which, he doesn’t want either, can’t stand the thought of being forced to wear a shirt with a collar every day.
“Yeah, I just got back from campus,” he lies, he’s been hiding out at Esteban’s since class ended, it’s seven now. The lie comes too easy, but the truth would only hurt the both of them – that Lance is avoiding his father because their conversations hurt more than they help these days. That Lance is growing, but it’s in a direction away from Lawrence, from the idea of who his dad thought he would be.
His dad wishes Lance were still small, and Lance wishes that too, but only because when he was a child hurting his dad only resulted in a brief scolding. Now it leads to awkward silences that neither of them know how to fill.
“Class is going well?”
“Um, easy so far, yeah.” They’re only three weeks in. “Other than this financial accounting class, it’s brutal.” He’s already had to ask Esteban for help, already knows he’s going to need to visit the library for tutoring.
He wipes steam from his mirror with the palm of his hand, catches a glimpse of his dripping reflection. Somehow, he needs to assemble himself into something relatively attractive within the next ten minutes, only for it to most likely come undone the second he slides his helmet over his hair. There’s a twisted sort of humor in him wondering how best to style himself for Fernando, while he’s on the phone with his father, pretending to care about classes that had stopped being fun once Lance realized they were actually supposed to lead to something.
“You spent all summer looking at the books,” Lawrence says. Which is true, but it had made more sense when things were hands on. Now it’s just a jumble of words and numbers on a whiteboard, a professor who knows the course is meant for weeding out those who are too weak to continue, and who looks at Lance every time he shows up late with a knowing sort of disappointment.
People didn’t used to look at him like that, it’s a growing sentiment the more Lance stumbles.
“Yeah, I know. It’s just- it’s different. All reading and equations and- I don’t know. I’m not a numbers guy, dad, you know this.”
“You got it pretty well while you were here.”
Only because he’d felt his dad’s eyes on him the whole summer, felt the pressure and the weight and need to prove he could do something. His professor doesn’t bother to look at Lance once he’s sat at a desk, which means Lance zones out, doodles designs in the margins of his notes and then wonders why the numbers don’t add up while he’s doing homework later.
“It’s different,” the exasperation in his voice is audible, he pauses where he’d been drying his hair with a towel pulled from under the sink. Closes his eyes. Breathes. “But I’m trying. I’ll- I’ll figure it out.”
“I know you will, Lance. I didn’t say you wouldn’t.”
They’re being careful around each other, the eggshells just beginning to crunch beneath their feet. Neither one of them want a fight and Lance can feel the tension of it through the phone, the tightening of something in his chest that threatens to break every time he speaks to his father now. This is why he lets it go to voicemail.
Fernando texts him, he sees the notification come through as he’s staring at the phone, hands braced on the bathroom sink. Probably asking if he’s on his way. Lance’s hair is still dripping water in cold tendrils down the back of his neck, a puddle forming on the carpet at his feet. He hasn’t even bothered to find an outfit or brush his teeth.
“Look, dad- I- um, I gotta go. I have a, uh, a study thing with Pato-“
“Oh, okay, yeah. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Lance closes his eyes again, bows his head, tries not to care about the hurt that’s audible in his father’s voice and finds that it somehow manages to dig between his ribs anyway. He hangs up before there’s the chance for the line to fracture further, and then he busies himself with texting Fernando back.
‘You are still coming?’ Fernando asks.
Lance says he’ll be there soon, and then he focuses on the toothbrush in his hands, getting himself ready, and ignores everything else.
-------------
“I need a drink!” Lance yells over the music, leaning further into Fernando, who holds him up with ease. “A shot!”
Fernando’s hand on his waist tightens when Lance rocks on his feet. They’re standing in the press of bodies on the dance floor, people on all sides. The crowd makes it easy for Lance to press against Fernando, the flashing lights adding to the disorientation. No one notices the way Fernando’s got one hand gripping Lance’s hipbone, the other on his ass, tucked into the pocket of his jeans and cupping the curve of him.  
They’re the same jeans he’d worn last night, pulled from the crumpled heap on his floor and slid back on because he couldn’t find anything else. If Fernando has noticed he doesn’t say anything, too distracted by the white linen button-up that Lance wear, only half done-up and exposing nearly the full expanse of his chest in the multicolored lights. Lance knows it puts the chain around his neck on full display, makes his collarbones stand out, shows how broad he is, and produces the impressed reaction Fernando had exhibited upon first seeing him.
He’d bought Lance his first drink, and then the first requested tequila shot, leaning on the bar top and staring at the exposed column of his neck as Lance tipped the liquor back and downed it with practiced ease. Lance had seen the way Fernando’s eyes had darkened as his adams apple bobbed, looking from the corner of his eye just to see the response that would be elicited with the movement.  
“What do you want?” Fernando asks now, hand on his hip coming up to pull Lance down to him so his lips just barely brush over Lance’s ear.
He shudders, breath stuttering when Fernando’s fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck and pull just enough that there’s the promise of something better later. He’s been teasing Lance since Lance first arrived, the ghost of a touch, a tongue tracing over the sweaty line of his neck, enough to have him hard in his jeans but never doing anything to solve the problem.
It’s the most public foreplay Lance has ever engaged in, even if everyone is too drunk or too involved in their own games to even notice.
“Vodka?” Lance yells, knowing he probably seems young for only ordering shots, but he’d only just turned twenty-one last October. Most of his experience with alcohol has been bagged wine fountained before entry to a party or the mix of Kool-Aid and whatever liquor could be procured into a giant tub for jungle juice. Shots are simple, uncomplicated, and he knows he can handle them. Plus they hit fast, or at least feel like they do, give him the liquid courage needed to grind against Fernando as Pit Bull blares around them in the crowded bar.
The Keys is a mixed sort of space, half occupied by college kids who were too lazy to drive all the way to Rusty’s and half-filled by the locals who are looking for fun outside of their mansions. It means he and Fernando don’t draw attention, Lance fits in with the group of kids in their backwards caps and low cut shirts, Fernando blends with the guys in their pressed button-ups and black slacks. He just looks hotter than the others, the pants hugging his waist and ass well, clearly tailored. And the peak of a tattoo Lance gets on the back of Fernando’s neck as he follows him back up to the bar, Fernando’s hand around his wrist towing him through the crowd, separates him enough from the older guys smoking cigars outside on the patio. He wants to know what the tattoo is, slide Fernando’s shirt off his shoulders and trace the ink with his tongue.
But that’s for later, for now he lets Fernando guide him, lean him against the bar top, slide a hand back into the pocket of his jeans because the shape of his palm over his ass is becoming familiar. He flags down the bartender, orders two shots of Vodka and then they tip them back together. Lance can feel how flushed his neck is getting, wonders if the red of it is spreading to his chest, his cheeks. His hair that was still slightly damp from the shower is frizzing in the humidity of the packed space, falling over his forehead.
Fernando stares up at him, lips wet with vodka and his own spit when he licks them, Lance follows the movement, starts to lean forward like he intends to taste the lingering alcohol himself. Fernando stops him with a hand on his chest, fingers splayed across bare skin, index finger dipping into the hollow of his clavicle. Lance shudders, Fernando feels it.
“Let’s get out of here, yes?”
“Yes.”
Lance can’t drive his bike, just drunk enough that he knows he couldn’t keep his balance. Instead, he climbs into the passenger seat of Fernando’s Aston Martin, and deposits his own keys in the cupholder, casting a forlorn look back at his gear in the backseat. The same seat he’d come undone in last night, now occupied by his motorcycle helmet with the sticker of a cat waving the Canadian flag – something Pato had found online and ordered because ‘it’s Canada, Lance! You know, you!’. Fernando had asked him about it when he parked earlier, traced the outline of it before Lance had taken his helmet off, lifted Lance’s visor so he could see his eyes more clearly as he did so.
When he looks back at Fernando in the driver’s seat the man is staring at him. Lance knows what it looks like when someone wants him. He knows the way Pato gets all slack jawed and dopey-eyed, eyes flicking to Lance’s lips every two seconds even though he wouldn’t even try to kiss him. But Fernando’s look of want is different, more demanding and all-encompassing. He looks like he’s plotting the best course of stripping Lance out of his clothes before they’ve even reached their destination, like he is thinking of the best way to take him apart.
Maybe it’s because he’s more experienced, or maybe it’s because he’s less. Lance doesn’t know enough about him, anything really, to know if he is the first man Fernando has hooked up with or not. They still haven’t found much time to talk, or maybe just haven’t wanted to make the effort. Lance is okay with that, his idea of foreplay is not long discussions and get-to-know-you’s. He doesn’t have the patience for that, much prefers Fernando’s method of cutting to the quick and easy of it.  Which Fernando does when he leans across the console enough to grab Lance by the chain around his neck and pull him in for a kiss.
Lance is still not used to the kissing, just opens his mouth and lets Fernando’s tongue slide into it because he’s not practiced enough. He’s okay with letting Fernando take control, likes how he doesn’t have to think about it, just follow. Fernando tastes like vodka, and Lance swallows the familiar taste of it when their spit mixes and he can no longer tell whose is whose.
When Fernando pulls back Lance tries to chase him, is stopped again by a hand on his chest, firm and unyielding.
“You are still okay with coming to my place?” Fernando asks, and something in the way he says it is slightly sobering. It makes Lance remember his bike two spots over, prepared to be abandoned for the night and hopefully still there come morning.
“Yeah. Definitely.”
“I will drive you home, instead. If you want. Up to you.”
“No. No I’m good. Trust me.” He’d prepped himself in the shower and everything, knew what he was getting into before a drop of alcohol ever touched his tongue. “I’ve been thinking about this since last night.”
Fernando eyes him, glances down at his chest where his skin is still red and hot and bare against his hand.
“Okay. God, you are beautiful.”  
The praise shoots straight to Lance’s cock, has a quiet moan escaping him, something he only just barely manages to bite back with the press of his teeth into his bottom lip. Fernando catches it anyway, grins like he’s realized the praise wasn’t just a one-off from the hand job last night, but something Lance actually enjoys.
"Don’t worry, pretty boy,” he promises, “Make you feel better soon.”
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babyblue711 · 12 hours
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Little Dragonseed
Sister Story to Loyalty Aemond Targaryen (HOTD) x Handmaiden - Part 1 Summary: A young maid of Harrenhal has been forced to remain hidden from the public eye, but as soon as she sets her eyes on a true Targaryen, she realizes to whom she truly belongs. Words: ~1.5K
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Chapter Warnings: None, this chapter is tame. But it won't remain that way. A/N: This is more of an introduction and I thought it best to break this story up into smaller parts rather than present you all with one traumatically long fic. Yes, that is Daemon on the banner, he is integral to Part 1, but this is very much another Aemond story. So far, I am planning 3 chapters that will eventually be tied together in Part 2 of "Loyalty". This story quite literally came to life on its own. I did not set out to write a multi-chapter fic, but here we are. My fingers typed, but the characters did things themselves without my approval and I went along with it anyway! 🤯 I am sure many fellow authors know this feeling of a story quite literally writing itself. It was a fun experience. 💙 My personal head-cannon for the little handmaid is Freya Allan (Ciri from The Witcher series). 💙 Thank you to @arcielee for being my sounding board and reading over this for me. Your enthusiasm means everything. 😘 And thank you to @myfandomprompts for recreating the Targaryen symbol for me for the banner. She’s so incredibly talented y’all 😘
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She knew from the moment she laid eyes on him. 
She felt it in her very bones, a deep revelation that she couldn't quite explain. She saw it in the perpetual frown upon his brow, in the shape of his chin, in the sharpness of his nose. She saw it in the color of his brilliant blond hair, indisputably the same hue as hers.
Her eyes didn’t share the same vibrant shade of purple that belonged to the royal family who ruled Westeros, but her light baby blues and bright silver-blonde hair had always been enough to attract attention in this part of the kingdom. She didn’t look anything like the humble folks of the Riverlands. 
Growing up, she had often wondered about her origins; she had known that her mother passed away during childbirth, leaving her without any further knowledge of her parentage. In her stead, she had been raised with care by the head matron at Riverrun. When the young maid questioned about her family, the matron would elaborate on the few details she recalled about her mother. She learned of the few physical attributes that the young maiden inherited, but if she pressed about her father, a dark cloud would shadow the matron's face and she would always refuse to say more.
Then, when Harrenhal passed to House Strong, the matron was called to oversee the running of the new household, as she had some distant familial connections with the new inhabitants. Unable to part with her adopted child, the matron brought the young maid along with her. 
Despite her best efforts to provide a sense of home, life at Harrenhal was anything but comforting. The castle was dark and ominous with rumors of haunting spirits that sent chills down the spine of anyone who dared to speak of them. As the young maid blossomed into womanhood, her adoptive mother started to impose strict rules upon her, forcing her to wear a headscarf at all times, hiding her unique features from the prying eyes of visitors and castle inhabitants alike. Now at one and eight, the young woman had begun to resent these restrictions, longing for the freedom she once had at Riverrun where she could roam without fear and be herself. But she knew the matron only had her best interests at heart: with her unique beauty, outsiders may be tempted to kidnap her, and worse, sell her into slavery at a brothel.
The Rogue Prince strode into Harrenhal with the air of absolute authority, and for the first time in her life, the young maid beheld a true Targaryen, suddenly feeling like everything was falling into place. Usually, she would have been kept hidden from unfamiliar faces within the castle’s walls, but due to the war's demands and the shortage of staff, she had no choice but to do as she was bid, and she had been bid to personally serve this member of royalty. He stopped right in front of her and as their eyes locked, she thought she saw a glimmer of recognition from him and an ever so subtle double take. But with her hair bound and wrapped, he didn’t have a chance to see the color of her matching tresses. 
In his full set of armor, Daemon looked huge and intimidating. Without a word, he handed her his helmet, a silent directive that she was to assist him with his armor. She set to work, hands trembling slightly as her fingers worked deftly to undo the numerous clasps and buckles that held the armor together. At last, when she was done, she bent to gather his things when he caught her unexpectedly by the wrist, sending electricity coursing up her arm and straight into her heart as her eyes jumped back to his.
“Clean it well, little one,” he said, in a much more gentle tone than she had anticipated before he immediately turned and strode from the room without a backwards glance.
She didn’t remember making it to the washroom with all of his armor, she didn’t remember anything for the next few hours. All she could think of was his face, the way his eyes bore into hers, the way he seemed to see through her. Inexplicably, she knew from the moment her eyes landed on Daemon Targaryen that she was one of them, that the notorious Rogue Prince himself could quite possibly be her father. Intrigued, she longed to mention her suspicions to the matron, but the memory of the matron's reaction whenever her father was mentioned gave her pause, and she thought it best to keep it to herself for the time being. 
Daemon didn’t linger at Harrenhal for very long; she suspected the witch had something to do with that. With each passing day, the shadows under his eyes grew darker and he seemed increasingly on edge, flinching at the slightest loud noise. The young handmaid suspected it was her behind his growing distress, likely attempting to drive him away from the castle just as swiftly as he had arrived.
During the course of his stay, he didn’t show any further signs of recognition as she carried out her duties diligently. Her heart was full of hope and fear, constantly questioning if she should say something to him. On the last night of his tenure in the castle, she entered his room, carrying freshly laundered clothes and unexpectedly found him sitting by the fire. He was gazing into it without really seeing and her presence seemed to break his trance as he beckoned her forward.
“Set that on the bed,” he said with a careless wave of his hand, the silver rings on his thick fingers shimmering in the firelight, “and come here, little one.”
She did as she was bid, heart thundering in her chest as she took her place before him, eyes cast downward, hands clasped in front of her.
“Take off your scarf,” he instructed softly. She hesitated; the matron had strictly forbidden her from removing it, no matter who asked. But she knew that this was the moment she had been waiting for, a spark of fate, of destiny. And so, with trembling fingers, she untied the scarf and shook out her long, silver mane, eyes flicking nervously to meet his gaze.
His violet stare was so intense, it was like looking directly into the sun as he studied her appearance, a deep frown on his low brow. She tried to stand tall and proud but, ultimately became too intimidated to maintain eye contact, lowering hers to the floor by his feet.
“No, child, please,” Daemon said as he stood, towering over her and reached out to gently lift her chin so their eyes met again, “You look just like her,” he whispered, sounding awestruck. His thumb traced her jawline paternally, a faraway look in his eyes, as if he was remembering another time. Her heart thundered in her chest, was he referencing her mother?
“We have much to discuss, little dragonseed, but there isn’t any time,” he became serious, adding, “I have some important matters to attend to now, but I shall return for you.” Her heart swelled with his confirmation, she had just known she belonged to him. 
He dismissed her shortly after, leaving her no time to ask any of her questions. In the dead of night, the hauntingly shrill cry of Caraxes sent a shiver up her spine and she knew Daemon had departed the castle. She cried herself to sleep, desperate to go with him and join her greater destiny, not understanding why she had to wait. She cursed the witch under her breath for purposefully driving Daemon away faster…if only she just had a little more time with him.
But little did the handmaid know that another Targaryen relative would soon arrive at the castle. Within just a few days of Daemon’s departure, an unexpected thunderclap echoed through the clear blue sky, though it wasn’t a precursor to a storm. A dark shadow fell over Harrenhal and another great dragon descended from the sky, its immense wings blotting out the sun. Atop the dragon's broad back, a tiny blond figure could be seen—barely more than a speck from the ground.
The castle’s inhabitants paused in their activities, gazing upward in awe and trepidation at the tremendous size of this giant, much larger than Caraxes had been. Whispers spread quickly as the dragon landed with a thud that shook the ancient stone walls. The blond figure leapt gracefully from his seat to the ground as the castle’s gates prepared to receive yet another army, but this time the banners that approached were not the familiar black and red of Queen Rhaenyra but the green and gold of King Aegon II. The Prince Regent, Aemond Targaryen, had come to lay claim to Harrenhal, and unbeknownst to the little handmaid did she know what was next in store for her.
Part 2 Coming Soon
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jnnul · 1 day
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the right side of wrong. (part one)
TAGS ▸ violence (fighting, blood, general superhero warnings), warnings vary per chapter, uhh like trauma but it's not gone into super deeply, lots of mentions of isolation and manipulation, young justice au!, nightwing!sunghoon, there is a vision here of sunghoon as nightwing and i want everyone to have it as well, superhero au
PLAYLIST ▸ yosemite - travis scott, back - jey, stay - ari abdul, element - pop smoke, dirty laundry - blackbear
WORD COUNT ▸ 11.4k
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i’ve fallen back into my superhero phase (which i’m always in, who am i kidding?) and everyone needs to understand my love for the found family + superhero trope. extremely self-indulgent and shamelessly fun to write! it’s a little different from what i usually write (college aus) so hopefully i do it justice (haha get it). part one out of eight-ish parts! quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!
TAGLIST ▸ @hybeboyenthusisast
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[march 17, 20XX 6:32 p.m.]
[???]
ALL Y/N ARDOR FAUST CAN SEE IS ABSOLUTE DARKNESS. at first, she panics, grasping at air as she falls into despair when she realizes that she cannot manage to actually latch onto anything. no matter how much she tries to feel around for something - anything - she fails to do so, instead only managing to lose her balance in the nothingness. she knew that this would happen when she first devised her plan but she hadn’t known just how frightening it would be to escape.
escape. is that really what she was doing? or was she just painting the target on her back even larger? did it even matter anymore? if she couldn’t leave this place, she might as well give up. after all, once they found her, it didn’t really matter whether she would have escaped or not. no one would live to tell the story of the girl who escaped a prison with no exits.
she vaguely registers that someone is screaming and she wants to tell them to stop, that they were blowing her cover and that she definitely wouldn’t be able to escape if they kept screaming. it was too loud. too loud!
only when her vision clears does she realize that the person who had been screaming had been herself.
[march 12, 20XX, 4:19 p.m.]
[mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]
sunghoon park shifts uncomfortably as he watches black canary wipe superboy off of his feet. jay grunts as his body meets the ground, the sensors in the training ground floor sounding out a resoundingly depressing “SUPERBOY - LOSS” that echoes throughout the training chamber. even after three months of training, it seemed like none of them could really beat black canary when it came to martial arts.
and sunghoon was trained by batman, so that really meant something. canary and him were tied (32 - 32) and he had a feeling that wouldn’t change any time soon.
“nightwing? you want to run roll next?” canary asks, eyebrow cocked in challenge. sunghoon smiles, adjusting his mask before he steps onto the training ground, the sensors announcing “NIGHTWING - BLACK CANARY” as soon as he does.
“why? taking out our heavy hitter wasn’t enough?” sunghoon asks and canary scoffs as she hunches into a fighting stance, ready to pounce the moment he gave her a chance to do so.
“hey! i was distracted,” jay exclaims, thanking miss martian slightly when she offers him an ice pack. sunghoon doesn’t have the heart to remind her that jay was half-kryptonian and that ice packs didn’t really help him in healing as much as she thought they did but he doubted it would make much of a difference. soojin was just about head over heels in love with jay and vice versa - she could offer him kryptonite to heal him and jay would accept it happily because his loving girlfriend gave it to him. or something like that, at least.
“just like nightwing is,” canary says before lunging forward, slicing at sunghoon’s head before shifting her position to aim for his knee instead. sunghoon launches backwards before he even realizes what had happened.
“nightwing has also been training in mma since he was in diapers, practically,” kid flash, aka jake sim (aka one of sunghoon’s oldest and best friends), points out. even sunghoon’s body on autopilot, maneuvering and ducking out of black canary’s well placed traps, was a lethal force but sunghoon had no intentions of breaking the tie in canary’s favor.
“technically, superboy’s only five years old,” soojin points out and jake grimaces underneath his mask.
“do you want me to point out the moral flaws in you dating a technical five year old? even if he’s biologically 21?” jake asks and soojin lifts her arms in understanding.
“point taken.”
“glad to see that martians don’t take well to that either.”
“i don’t really think that anyone does, kid.”
“now that we’ve established that everyone in the milky way has the same moral compass, you gonna spar with me or what, nightwing?” canary says, smiling cattily (oh, the irony) before sweeping at sunghoon’s leg, grunting when he leaps gracefully.
“you’re right, canary. hate to keep you on your toes,” sunghoon says. and with that, he successfully is able to grab her left arm, catching her off balance and causing her to try to twist her body to keep from falling but sunghoon is too fast. he lets go of her before she can find something to latch onto, and canary fails to knock sunghoon off his feet before gravity wins out.
she falls to the ground in a somehow still graceful manner, the mat below them reading “NIGHTWING - WIN” as sunghoon helps her get back on her feet.
“you know i’m going to tie that score up again, right?” canary says, cocking her head to where the scoreboard (only the two of them had a score; nobody else really needed one against canary) now read 33 - 32 in nightwing’s favor.
“counting on it. it’s the prestige of the league and the team at hand, after all,” sunghoon laughs and canary flashes him a mildly amused smile before straightening up once more.
“i know that it’s not the justice league’s jurisdiction to comment on the team’s inner workings anymore but some of the leaguers have expressed a little concern at the fact that the team is not accepting new members at this time - especially considering the fact that there are heroes like blue beetle or bumblebee who have made a considerable impact without compromising their identities in team fashion.” black canary sighs, running a hand through her blond hair before shaking her head. “but it’s not the league’s responsibility to propose additions to the team - it’s yours. specifically, nightwing’s.”
sunghoon exchanges a look with jake before shrugging. “i can appreciate the league’s trust in the team and the…forward thinking to increase our numbers. but we’ve decided that we’re not going to even consider additions to the team unless we’re all here to decide together.”
“yeah. unless aqualad and artemis are here, we’re not really jumping at the chance to make any big decisions,” jake echoes, and sunghoon sees jay shrug when soojin nods.
“i figured as much but aqualad and artemis have been in action for a while. the decision is yours but it’s hard to operate a team when 1/3 of it is currently unavailable,” canary says.
“i think you’ll find that we’re more than capable of holding our own,” jake says, arms crossed against his chest. he’s about to say something else but a look from sunghoon calms him down and just shrugs when jay looks at him.
“i don’t doubt it. but it’s just a suggestion from our own experience,” canary says, leaning over to pick up her previously discarded jacket, shrugging it over her shoulders.
“thanks. we’ll keep it in mind.” there’s no room for questioning in sunghoon’s voice in the way that he speaks but black canary appreciates the formality he carries nonetheless.
“alright. well. it’s up to you guys. i’m headed out but let me know if any of you need anything.” with that, canary bids the team goodbye, using the zeta tube to teleport out of the cave (where the team practiced and a few members of the team lived). in the next second after black canary has left, soojin uses her telepathic powers to establish a mind link between the four of them in the room, ensuring that they could all communicate via mere thoughts.
how much do you want to bet she’s going to go relay that to the justice league? jake says telepathically, eyebrows raised.
as much as you’re willing to bet that they don’t actually want us to replace members. they just want to know about what aqualad and artemis are up to, soojin retorts.
and as much as i’m willing to bet that that little black bat behind sunghoon is a bug placed by canary on batman’s orders, jay snorts, looking determinedly to the right of where sunghoon was standing.
don’t give it away, superboy. we know that they’ve bugged us and they’ll know soon enough too but let’s take the lead that we can for now. sunghoon sighs, stretching as he gathers his duffel bag with more comfortable clothes than his suit to change into.
“i’m gonna hit the showers,” he announces out loud.
“yeah, i’m not exactly feeling like i’m doing so hot the fragrance department right now,” jake says without missing a beat.
“alright, well i’m gonna go bake cookies if you wanna meet in the kitchens in a bit,” soojin says, getting up. jay rolls shoulder carefully, grinning when he finds that it doesn’t sting when he does so.
“cool. i’ll follow the crowd and take a shower too and we’ll meet you when we don’t smell like the inside of a middle school gym,” jay says, grimacing when he catches a whiff of jake’s training (which he had changed out of about 3.2 seconds after his defeat to black canary) gear. 
the three boys part ways with their friend (and in one case, girlfriend) to hit the showers. soojin turns on the mental link once more once they're out of earshot.
how far are they getting, anyway? the old bat’s not gonna be in the dark about what’s happening in his own city for very long, jake says telepathically and sunghoon sighs, turning on the hot water once they reach the showers.
i’m not sure. i last heard from aqualad two days ago but i haven’t heard from yujin in over a week.
a WEEK? sunghoon winces when he hears jake’s incredulous voice echoing in his head. YOU HAVEN’T HEARD FROM MY GIRLFRIEND IN A WEEK?
it might be my super hearing but was that loud for everyone else too? jay asks, rather innocently.
yes, jay. i don’t think that’s how it works though, sweetheart. but jake’s right, sunghoon. you haven’t heard from artemis in a week? soojin asks from wherever she is in the den.
sunghoon shuts off the water, tousling his freshly washed hair as he steps out of the showers, contemplating how much to share with the rest of the team. 
well. i’ve heard from heeseung about yujin but she herself hasn’t checked in lately. but remember, we knew that she was going to go no comms. jake, you knew that she was going to have to go under the radar from us too when they got closer to the objective.
jake doesn’t say anything, physically brushing past sunghoon to get to his own room down the hall from him.
i really hope so, sunghoon. i really hope that your objective is worth it.
[march 17, 20XX, 10:51 p.m.]
[gotham city, southern end of new jersey]
“you shouldn’t be out in this part of the city this late at night,” ardor hears a voice say from behind her. she looks over her shoulder to see who was talking to her, and the person takes a step back, gasping when they make eye contact with her.
ardor was hunched over on the ground in mouth of a frighteningly dark alleyway, shivering and teeth chattering. her hair was a complete mess, her arms covered in bruises, and she was holding herself protectively.
“hey, you alright?” the person knelt next to ardor and she couldn’t help but to inch away from this new person, hands gaining new injuries from making contact with the unforgiving gravel of the alleyway.
the other person raises her hands, almost as though she were trying to prove that she wasn’t a threat to ardor, who eyes her suspiciously as she wraps her arms around her knees.
“i promise i don’t have any bad intentions, but are you alright? i think that we should get inside before it hits midnight, and maybe you can tell me what happened to you?” the woman says and ardor stares at the stranger’s helping hand before slowly reaching out her own bloodied hand, only to be interrupted by a loud crash from behind the stranger.
“well, well. if isn’t two little girls on the wrong side of town, standing too close to the bank for their own safety.” the stranger grimaces as she turns around, coming face to face with the big pain in the ass himself, icicle sr. 
“icicle, don’t you have better things to do than to terrorize gotham? like, i don’t know, spending quality time with your family? trying out a new hobby? when was the last time you picked up a book, huh?” the stranger says with a sigh, and while her tone is still lighthearted, ardor sees the stranger slowly shift into a more defensive stance, moving so that she was shielding ardor from their unwanted visitor.
“artemis, one of these days, that smart mouth is gonna land you somewhere you don’t wanna be,” icicle sr. growls, cracking his neck as he adopts a more offensive stance. ardor is silent all the while, more fixated on the blur of motion behind the big lump of human shaped ice than the ice itself.
“artemis, look out!” ardor yells. no sooner do the words leave her mouth does the blur of motion come to a halt in front of artemis, jabbing at her side. but artemis is quick, sidestepping the affront and pulling a bow and arrow out of seemingly nowhere.
the rest of the goons that were in the car suspiciously parked outside of the bank also start descending on artemis, ardor seemingly cast side for the moment. she tries to pull herself to her feet but the injuries from the impact that she had taken on her legs when she tumbled into gotham were still tender enough so that she couldn’t move too quickly.
ardor hunches over herself, looking down, only to see her foot completely twisted, facing the wrong direction.
she grimaces but tries to pull herself up regardless, a strange fire lit in her eyes. she reaches down and takes a deep breath before snapping her foot back into place, unable to keep the scream that escapes her throat inside.
“FUCK!” she screams, and this moment is the moment that changes y/n ardor faust’s fate forever. because no sooner does she yell this, a series of things happen in seemingly slow motion. 
first is that a pack of icicle sr.’s goons descend upon artemis and ardor in quick succession. the second is that artemis is quickly overwhelmed by the seven people that seemed to have manifested out of thin air - likely other, smaller goons that had been drawn to the areas like moths to a light after hearing ardor scream. the third thing is that ardor is forced to protect herself from icicle sr. himself.
“normally i’d go for the blondie but risk assessment tells me that i should take the wimp out first,” he says, cracking his knuckles. his cronies fall back a little bit, letting their ‘macho leader’ take on the injured girl himself. she supposed that he probably always took the first punch when it came to new victims. he fit the personality type of a secretly impotent man trying to secure his place in society by victimizing those around him anyway.
“alright,” ardor says. “well then, i hope this doesn’t hurt too much!”
and with that, a column of fire leaps out of her palms and straight into icicle sr.’s chest, propelling him backwards. he flies so far back that he crumples into the van that he’d arrived in, about twenty feet away.
for a moment, ardor panics, fearing that she may have accidentally killed him (she hadn’t used her powers for the past year and a half, and that meant that she was seriously out of practice). but she hears him groan and twitch, his cronies looking between her and his form against the car (which had made a serious dent on the passenger side).
“what? want me to turn up the heat on you guys too?” she snarls, a little fireball dancing on the palm of her hand.
artemis looks back to see ardor launch the fireball in the direction of the mob that had descended upon them, watching them scatter like roaches from the light of her flame, the goons piling into cars or leaping on buildings’ fire escapes to leave the scene.
artemis turns to ardor dumbfounded, to which ardor can only smile ruefully. “don’t worry - it’s cold fire. it doesn’t burn but it leaves a pretty nasty feeling. kinda like being submerged into a bucketful of icy water.”
“couldn’t you have done that before?” artemis says, shaking her head. ardor blinks at her owlishly before tilting her head. 
“um, i’ve never actually trained in combat with real people before so…” ardor says. “kinda didn’t wanna accidentally - maybe - really, hurt someone.”
artemis rolls her shoulder, where she’d shoulder-butted someone in an attempt to get them off of her. it worked, but her shoulder had to suffer for it. 
this girl had pyrokinetic powers, knew how to use them, but had never engaged in combat? it was practically impossible to think that someone who was this well-versed in their powers could exist on earth without batman knowing about them. and artemis knew for a fact that batman didn’t know about this girl because if batman knew, nightwing knew. and if he knew, and this girl was from gotham, then artemis definitely knew.
which meant that this girl was not on anyone’s radar. that usually was not a good thing.
“what’s your name?” artemis asks after a beat of silence. 
ardor thinks for a moment. “ardor.”
she didn’t know who this artemis kid was - although she was pretty sure that she was one of the good guys if someone robbing a bank wasn’t her biggest fan. but still. she didn’t come here to make friends with the wrong people. not again.
y/n faust needed to find the justice league. and she needed to make sure that she was on the right side of history this time.
“ardor,” artemis repeats slowly. she knows that ardor is not her real name, but artemis wasn’t about to supply this strange girl with her real name so she had reason to expect that ardor would give her hers. 
still, something about this girl indicated that she was hiding something that she definitely should not be. for some reason, she kind of reminded artemis of…herself.
again, signs pointing things more than a little on the fishy side.
but artemis knew better than to judge based on things like that. she herself was a super criminal’s daughter. what right did she have to judge anyone else based on their life experience?
and besides, the way ardor looked around, taking in the grimy alleyway of gotham was too innocent. it was like she was seeing it for the first time - like she was seeing everything for the first time.
“alright ardor. well, what brings you to gotham?” artemis asks. ardor looks at her and then back down at her foot, leaning against the disgusting wall of the bank that they were so inconveniently next to to relieve some of the pressure on her injured foot.
artemis could practically see the gears turning in this girl’s head and she’s once again hit with the fact that either this girl was a really good actress or she genuinely had gone under the radar this whole time. in any case, whoever had taught her to use her powers hadn’t taught her how to keep a poker face. 
“would you believe me if i said i came from another dimension? to look for the justice league?”
artemis searches ardor’s face, furrowing her eyebrows when she doesn’t see a single trace of lying in her eyes. she was speaking the whole, genuine truth. which of course, would have to be verified by batman and the rest of the league but as far as this girl herself knew, she was telling the truth.
she sighs, shaking her head and pulling out a transmission device on a secure line.
“sure. we have a speed force and zeta tubes. why not have alternate dimensions?” she mumbles under her breath, clicking a few buttons on the transmission device. 
“nightwing? pull me out. i’ve secured the objective and uh, a friend that i think you should meet.”
[march 18, 20XX, 12:19 a.m.]
[happy harbor bowl-o-rama, happy harbor, rhode island]
“does everything in your dimension look this…depressing?” ardor asks, wide-eyed as she takes in the rather sad state of the bowl-o-rama. 
artemis exchanges a look with nightwing before shrugging. “i mean, you did come straight from gotham right? that’s not exactly the happiest place to start off in…a different…dimension.”
nightwing nods. “yeah. what’s your dimension like? less crazy than icicle sr., i hope?”
there’s a wry smile on ardor’s face that feels out of place. like she’s not used to such an emotion.
“i don’t know; i wouldn’t call it less crazy necessarily. i mean, nothing’s ever normal when klarion’s involved,” she says, deep in thought. nightwing pauses, doing a double take and looking at artemis. 
don’t look at me! i have no clue what this kid knows either, she says telepathically. miss martian hadn’t made ardor’s acquaintance, since nightwing wanted to keep this as under wraps as possible before deciding their next steps.
“i’m sorry, did you say klarion? as in klarion the witch?” nightwing says incredulously. ardor blinks, before nodding slowly. 
“you’re not his friends are you? i doubt it, since klar doesn’t exactly do friends and his friends are definitely not as nice as you guys have been but of course, that could just be a false front as you wait for me to let down my guard so you can kidnap me and send me back to my dimension.” 
now it’s nightwing and artemis’s turn to blink at ardor. i see what you mean, yujin. she’s definitely not showing up on any of our databases so i don’t think that she’s an undercover agent because she’s not really giving any of those signs. not to mention that ‘klar’ mixed with alternate dimensions is a pretty severe indication that this girl probably has been living a life hard to understand by our standards. and…as much as i can’t stand klarion and his stupid evil magic stuff, i think that her association with him might not be as evil as we think it is.
“no, we’re not his friends. in fact, i don’t think that he likes us very much at all,” artemis says gently. ardor’s eyes seem to glow in the dim lighting of the bowl-o-rama when artemis says this, and she leans forward excitedly.
“you wouldn’t happen to be connected to the justice league, would you? they’re pretty much the only people that i know for a fact klarion hates with a passion - and that means a lot for a warlock with the emotional maturity of a prepubescent boy,” ardor says. nightwing fights to keep the smile off of his face at ardor’s enthusiastic spirit at the sight of finding those who didn’t like her acquaintance (?). 
it’s easy enough to do when the questions in his mind start to spin out of control.
“we’re familiar with people who could get you in touch with the justice league, sure. but before we do that, do you mind telling us why you’re here? in this dimension? and maybe why you’re willing to look for people who are actively working against your…acquaintance?” ardor’s smile from before starts to fade with nightwing’s torrent of questions as she looks down at her bandaged ankle, trying to come up with all of the answers to his questions.
“um. well, sure. but please, you have to promise to hear me out fully before you decide anything! and whatever i tell you, please please don’t send me back to where i came from. even though i’m pretty sure that’s kind of impossible without dark magic, i just really can’t go back,” ardor says with a hint of desperation in her voice.
artemis reaches out to place one of her hands over ardor’s hands clasped over the table that they were sitting at.
“i promise that we’ll give you a fair chance to explain yourself,” artemis says. “trust me.”
careful yujin. you said that she’s got pyrokinetic powers but we don’t know what else she’s got, nightwing says through the link, never once moving a muscle on his face.
i know that, sunghoon. but we’ve all had our fair share of dark pasts. we’ve gotta at least hear her out. and innocent until proven guilty, remember? artemis fires back, tuning back in when ardor opens her mouth to explain.
i know i’m not supposed to sift through her mind, but if it makes either of you safer, from what i can tell just from being as minimally invasive as possible to keep her from knowing i’m in her mind, she’s telling the truth, soojin says through the mindlink that allowed them to speak to each other and artemis almost misses the way that nightwing relaxes subconsciously, fighting to keep the smile off her face.
“uh…i guess there’s no easy way of putting it but my name is y/n faust. as in the daughter of felix faust, the magician,” ardor - y/n - begins. both artemis and nightwing nod, as if to coax her into continuing, thoughts racing at a mile per minute.
“i’m not really sure who my mom is. but i found out a year ago that my father moved me from this dimension, where i was born, to the dimension he created to keep me locked away from this world. he told me that it was too dangerous here and that he created that dimension to protect me from the horrors of this world - something like the story of rapunzel, if you guys have that in dimension.
“i’ve been living in a sense of seclusion for the past eighteen years. for seventeen years, i believed everything that he said. i thought it genuinely was dangerous in this dimension and that my dad was keeping me isolated from everything and everyone because he didn’t want me to get hurt. but there were things that just stopped adding up - if he was truly trying to protect me, why was he always in a different dimension, fighting those people called the ‘justice league’ instead of staying in my dimension and protecting me? why were the only people who were allowed in my dimension scary looking people like klarion? why did he only ever teach me out to make pretty shapes and do stupid party tricks with my powers instead of ever teaching me how to protect myself? why didn’t he ever let me see what the dimension next to me looked like? if it was so bad that i wouldn’t be able to survive, letting me see such a horrible dimension would make me want to run straight back into my safe little bubble, wouldn’t it?
“the questions kept adding up and i just never got any answers that i needed from my dad. one day, i managed to get klarion to confess exactly how i got stuck in that dimension and why my dad never let me leave. he never told me the full story - and obviously, i had to take everything he said with a grain of salt - but i’d gleaned enough to understand two things: one, my father was hiding me from the world, sure, but mostly from a specific person. two, he wasn’t the good guy like he was parading himself to be before i’d been able to trick into klarion telling me. i don’t think i actually tricked him, to be honest. i’m pretty sure he only told me out of spite for something my dad had done, but he told me anyway.”
artemis leans back in her chair, letting out a low whistle as her and nightwing process everything that y/n had just revealed to the two of them.
“i never knew faust had a kid,” nightwing says softly, and y/n (ardor?) shrugs, a wry smile wringing at her lips.
“faust’s kid didn’t really know there was a whole different dimensional world until last year so i won’t hold it against you,” she says. artemis and nightwing exchange a look.
soojin, i know that we’ve been pretty against mind-searching but do you think you could do a quick scan - as much as you can without getting caught - so that we can verify her story. i want to believe her but that’s a lot of information that can’t be checked otherwise. i mean if she’s really from a different dimension, there’s no telling what exactly happened in that dimension, nightwing thinks through the mindlink.
“so what made you come look for the justice league?” artemis voices out loud and y/n looks back down at her foot before shaking her head. 
“my dad and his so called friends are doing some bad stuff in this dimension. i don’t know exactly what he’s doing but i think i have some intel that might be able to get the justice league ahead of my dad and his friends this time. because i don’t think this dimension should have to see the light.”
artemis bristles at the mention of the light. an evil counterpart to the justice league, the light was capable of any level of evil that the justice league was seeking to put an end to but with the company of various high level figures such as vandal savage, klarion the witch boy, felix faust, ra’s al ghul, and lex luthor. 
even her father, sportsmaster. 
they were twisted, evil people who thought that the best way to elevate humanity and make them the ‘ultimate ruling race of the universe’ was to eliminate those who were ‘too weak to serve their purpose’ and use the rest as braindead killing machines.
all for power. everything just for power.
which was why any and all intelligence that could be provided in the fight to first figure out what the light were up to and then to figure out how to stop it was of defcon priority one.
but a single look at nightwing’s face is enough to tell artemis that she might be the only one thinking that way.
sunghoon was lost in thought, analyzing the behavior of the girl in front of them carefully. his body language was cautiously open, showing that he was open to whatever information she was presenting to them, but his arms were crossed over the table that they were sitting so that it looked like he was leaning over to examine y/n and every single tell that she was giving.
“so that explains your search for the justice league then. and i guess the pyrokinetics. any chance you might clue us in on what information you have on the light?” nightwing asks, and y/n shrinks back, suddenly looking very unsure of herself.
“i - i don’t think so. you both have been very nice and i really have to thank you for being one of the good guys and not hurting me in my time here but i, uh, really would rather talk to the justice league. when i landed in gotham, i saw batman on one of the justice league posters. i don’t know any of the other members of the justice league so if it would be possible, i’d like to tell him directly,” y/n says with a somewhat regretful tone. “not that i don’t trust you guys! i think you would’ve hurt me already if you wanted to. but…from what i can tell, the light are some really dangerous people. i just don’t want more people to get hurt than i can help.”
anything, soojin?
nothing, sunghoon. she’s clean. she’s telling the truth. but i do have to say that she’s keeping something from the two of you. it’s nothing evil, but it’s definitely something personal. i wouldn’t ask her about it because i’m pretty sure it’s private business but i do think that it might be important later so make sure that you make her feel comfortable enough to ask, soojin responds and sunghoon makes sure to file away the information in his brain before tuning back into the conversation. 
“…we totally understand where you’re coming from, y/n,” artemis is saying when he starts listening again. “and since it seems like you don’t have too many friends to stay with in this dimension, why don’t we take you to one of our safe houses before we can determine our next steps? like you said, we’re dealing with some pretty powerful and not so nice people. we want to make sure that everyone is safe before we do anything.”
“sure. i understand.” y/n pauses, seemingly hesitant as she looks down at her clothes. it’s only then that nightwing realizes that her clothes are somewhat torn from her scuffle (and undoubtedly from her tumble into their dimension).
“do you - i mean, only if you want - a change of clothes maybe? i’m not really sure what’s fashionable in your dimension but i’m sure artemis can conjure something up in your size. not that you won’t look good in whatever…if you care about that. not that you should! or shouldn’t, of course,” nightwing says, tripping over his words as he speaks. yujin turns to him with a interested glint in her eyes that signaled nothing less than i’m onto you as she turns back to y/n with a soft smile, who’s blinking at the two of them owlishly.
“uh…to be honest, when the only other female figure in your life is talia al ghul, you learn to kind of make your own fashion standards,” she says slowly, a small smile on her face.
“right. makes sense.” sunghoon stands up abruptly, unsure why he was tripping over his words and making himself seem like such a loser all of a sudden. “i’ll leave you two to it then. i have some things i need to take care of elsewhere.” 
some things? you mean me, sunghoon? aqualad says in sunghoon’s mind and it takes everything in him to keep from freaking out in front of y/n and artemis, although the latter was faring no better than he was.
heeseung had been checking in - more frequently than yujin had been, anyway - but given the objective he’d been given, it worried sunghoon more than he cared to let on when he didn’t hear from him in over six days.
or did you mean anywhere but here, by elsewhere? jay adds and sunghoon can hear the thinly veiled poke at sunghoon’s floundering in front of y/n before. 
see, this is why i hate superpowers sometimes, sunghoon grumbles, pushing the door to the bowl-o-rama open. and heeseung, i thought we were meeting directly at mount justice whenever you secured the objective?
already finished the objective, captain. i was just dropping by here since i was told by kid flash that there was an interesting show going on at the bowl-o-rama. i wanted to provide reinforcements if they were needed, heeseung says nonchalantly. 
you’re just itching for seeing me make a fool of myself, sunghoon corrects and even soojin can’t keep the laugh out of her voice.
she is very pretty, to be fair. i’d probably fumble my words too. i just thought you’d be a little more suave for someone like you, nightwing, soojin says. 
that’s - that’s not why i was fumbling. and besides, we don’t even know for sure if she’s really on our side or not. she might just be a horribly good actress and i don’t want to really give her the benefit of the doubt right now. that’s up to batman, nightwing says gruffly. but he still can’t help but turn around and glance inside the bowl-o-rama, where y/n is laughing at something that artemis is saying.
sunghoon shakes his head, unable to keep the smallest of smiles off his face. sunghoon is nightwing. he’s cool. suave. the boy wonder. he doesn’t get flustered in front of pretty girls. no, he flusters pretty girls. sunghoon is the man!
uh, boy wonder? big guy in blue? gray son of gotham? we can still hear you, jake says and this time, not even soojin keeps herself from laughing.
fuck my life. and fuck you guys too.
[march 18, 20XX, 8:19 a.m.]
[mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]
“how long has the bat been in there?” jake asks, munching on an apple. yujin not so subtly jumps away from the door of the room that batman and ardor were sitting in, discussing whatever it was that she had on the light.
“at least forty-five minutes. i mean she said she didn’t have much so i don’t even know what they’re talking about this point,” yujin huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the door.
“you’re awfully overprotective over someone you met less than twelve hours ago,” jake comments and yujin rolls her eyes, pulling jake’s arm so that he stumbled over to her.
“and you’re awfully jealous of my attention being on a girl i met twelve hours ago,” yujins reasons, and jake leans forward to press a kiss to her lips, only to jump backwards when they heard someone clear their throat behind them.
“i understand that the two of you have been separated for quite some time but don’t you think that reunions should be done in places that are more private? such as perhaps the home that the two of you share?” heeseung says with a bemused smile and a raised eyebrow.
“lighten up aqualad,” jake says, punching him in the arm. “don’t worry, i was concerned for you too. i missed having to hide from people like i was going to get in trouble for kissing my girlfriend.”
“speaking of getting in trouble,” heeseung begins, pushing jake’s hand off of his arm. “don’t you two have school?”
“oh shit! it’s already 8:20? we’ve got ten minutes to get to class!” yujin says, checking her watch. she leans over to press a chaste kiss to jake’s cheek before rushing over to the zeta tubes to transport her directly to palo alto, jake hurrying to follow suit.
“you haven’t been back for more than a day and you’re already on parenting duty?” sunghoon asks, leaning against a pillar, mug of coffee in hand.
heeseung shrugs, nodding towards the door that was still closed. “well someone has to get them away from this door and back to their degrees.”
“i could barely keep them off of each other for long enough to get a mission briefing from her last night,” sunghoon says, shivering as he recalls the horrible sight of having to watch jake physically have to be separated from yujin when they reunited in mount justice last night.
“you say this now but you were definitely killing yourself trying to make sure that she was alright when she went under. especially since i bet kid flash was giving you hell about it,” heeseung says with a knowing glint in his eyes. sunghoon just offers him a tired smile as he waves, retreating into the kitchen.
“you’re welcome to take back team leader position whenever you’d like to, aqualad,” sunghoon calls out from the kitchen.
“no thanks. i’ve already got the title of ‘aquaman’ hanging over my head. i don’t think i’ll be itching for any new titles any time soon,” heeseung calls back. sunghoon sticks his neck out over the counter that separated the general meeting space from the living space, an incredulous look on his face.
“so it’s true? arthur’s handing over the mantle of aquaman?” he asks, now fortified with a plate of buttered toast. heeseung sighs, rubbing his hand over his face as he sits down on one of the bar stools on the other side of the counter.
“yeah. it’s hard to manage being the king of atlantis and the representative of atlantis in the justice league so he’s been asking for a while if i wanted to take on the responsibilities of aquaman,” heeseung says softly.
sunghoon lets out a low whistle, looking up at the bright lights of the kitchen before looking back at heeseung.
“what do you think? i mean…i hate to say it but you’d have to leave the team if you were to become justice league material. you know, our team being covert and all.” sunghoon’s tone is light, almost as if he were jesting but both heeseung and sunghoon know that his heart is heavy.
“you, jay, and i formed this team together. and with so many new threats, it feels as though i have had such little time with our team. i just can’t imagine leaving it so soon,” heeseung says comfortingly but sunghoon is able to read between the lines.
“but you have a responsibility and a duty towards your king,” sunghoon says, his words filling in the blanks. 
“it won’t be anytime soon - if i were to accept the offer - but i figured it would be best to talk it over with the team leader before i made any decisions,” heeseung explains. “not to mention that our team has changed quite a bit in the past year already. i’m just considering all the routes to be taken right now. especially since the fact that entry into the justice league would be to abandon the covert identity of the team to expose myself to the public. for a good cause, of course, but i could never return to a secret team such as our own ever again.”
“hm. whatever you decide, it’ll be the right decision, heeseung. i can tell you that much. and as your team leader, i’d like to remind you that this team will always need you and have a spot on the team for you, so long as your identity remains covert. but at the same time, this team will never stay the same forever. i think that jake and yujin moving out to california was the first indication of that. but that doesn’t mean that our friendships or that our team will ever lose you,” sunghoon says after a moment of contemplation.
heeseung finally smiles a relieved smile. “it brings me great comfort to hear you speak that way, old friend.”
sunghoon can’t offer more than a bittersweet smile, and heeseung and sunghoon both know that things have been different between the three founding members for a long while now, even if they all hated to admit it.
“batman has asked you many times if you wanted to turn to fighting crime in the name of the justice league, has he not?” heeseung asks. 
“yeah. he has. but i don’t know. i don’t think i’m ready to leave this team just yet,” sunghoon says, and for some reason, he finds his gaze trailing over to the door that was still shut. usually the therapy room was occupied for no more than twenty minutes (or longer if the mission had been particularly mentally taxing, but that was very rare).
“yes. there is still much to be done. many people to save,” heeseung says, and sunghoon snaps his gaze back to heeseung’s knowing one and for some reason, although the age difference between heeseung and sunghoon is but a year and a half, for some reason, it feels as though heeseung is lightyears ahead of sunghoon.
“i’m not into her,” sunghoon says feverishly, but heeseung just shrugs.
“i never said you were. she is someone to save, is she not?”
sunghoon doesn’t know what to say to that, but he finds that he’s saved (once again) by his old mentor, and batman steps out of the therapy room, y/n behind him, her eyes red and swollen, as if she’d been crying.
“i expect that mount justice has space for one more inhabitant?” he asks, but the tone of his voice makes it clear that he’s not exactly asking. 
in fact, batman rarely used words that he didn’t exactly need to use. ‘mount justice’ meant that y/n was safest here, in a secret location that was used by the team as a secret headquarters. that meant that she was probably in danger - from the light, at sunghoon’s best guess. the fact that he also said ‘one more inhabitant’ meant that y/n’s powers (which had been described briefly by yujin) were to be utilized for good.
if sunghoon chose to. or realistically, if the team decided that she would be a good fit and that adding her to the team wouldn’t put her in more danger than she was already in.
“we have the space,” sunghoon says carefully, and batman almost smiles at the caution that he’s drilled into his mentee so many times in the past.
“she needs a place to stay. and she can hold her own - she’d be a good addition to the team,” batman confirms, and sunghoon can hear the true message behind his words.
she’s safe. her story checks out. you can trust her.
batman has never been wrong in the past; sunghoon saw no reason to start questioning him now.
and besides, when sunghoon had done some digging of his own last night, her saw that y/n’s story mostly checked out. at the very least, it would explain the inter-dimensional issues that were growing larger, according to doctor fate. 
“then, i am going to leave sunghoon to showing you to your room. i have some business on atlantis to attend to,” heeseung says, and sunghoon catches the stray glance he throws at him, choosing to ignore it steadily.
“i’ll head out then, too. but nightwing, i’d like to have a one on one with you later on,” batman adds and it’s slight, barely there (as much of batman’s emotion usually was) but sunghoon can hear the faint jest in his words.
the cave (the nickname that they called the area where the training grounds, zeta tubes, and the therapy room were all located in, adjacent to the kitchen) grew emptier as the zeta tubes rang out twice, reading out batman and aqualad’s recognition numbers.
“and then there were two,” sunghoon says, largely to himself. y/n’s eyebrows furrow as she pouts, trying to recall if she’d ever heard the phrase before.
“i thought the book was called and then there were none?” she asks slowly and sunghoon shakes his head, a small smile on his face.
“i guess there’s a lot of gap between inter-dimensional sayings.”
“probably. the only saying that i know of is ‘don’t venture too far into the darkness or you’ll die.’ i didn’t know how to tell my dad that i was scared of the dark anyway.”
“for someone who grew up around the light, you’re pretty softhearted.”
“eh, it’s easy to not listen when your powers involve pyrokinetics. you know, because fire? and fire emits light? light beats darkness? also, you know my dad is involved with the light, right? it’s all pretty ironic and hypocritical if you stop to think about it.”
sunghoon blinks, unsure if how they ended up in this conversation all of a sudden. huh. it wasn’t like him to lose track of a conversation like that. to be fair, when your conversational partner is usually jake sim, half the time sunghoon was just stuck asking him to stop talking at the speed of sound.
literally.
“uh-huh. anyway, let me show you your room,” sunghoon says, rounding the corner to exit the kitchen and reach where y/n was standing. the two of them walk side by side and sunghoon leads her down the hallway past the amenities (pointing out the essential ones - the gaming room - as they walked) towards the bedroom.
“i’m sorry. i’m not being a burden staying here, right?” she asks after a lull in the sunghoon’s tour guide speech. sunghoon looks at her, somewhat startled by the question.
“why would you be a burden?”
y/n sighs, looking at the ground as they walked, finally stopping in front of the room that she had slept in yesterday. “i don’t know, but i’ve just been alone for my entire life. the closest person i had to someone that was kinda my age was klarion, the witchboy himself, and he doesn’t exactly make good company. i don’t really know what it’s like to be around people my age all the time - especially not people i thought were evil for so long.”
“you thought we were evil?” sunghoon asks and he wishes he could stuff the words back into his mouth. here this girl was, risking her life to share information to save them, and confiding her feelings to him and sunghoon was butthurt about being called evil. what happened to being suave? the big guy in blue? the smooth-talking hero that dropped panties?
maybe the last part was a tad bit tonedeaf. and unnecessary.
“uh. yeah. that’s why i was told i shouldn’t come to this dimension? why the justice league was bad and we should all ‘see the light’?” y/n says. 
“right. sorry. um. how did you figure out that the light wasn’t really the good guys if the information you got in that dimension was so controlled? i can’t imagine klarion just letting up information like that. i know that you said that he did it to spite your dad, but it’s just so strange, is it not? i mean, klarion may be a pain in the ass but he’s not stupid enough to risk falling on the other side of the light’s alliances,” sunghoon says after a beat and y/n shrugs, but her eyes are guarded.
“it’s a long story,” she says, and sunghoon is left wondering if maybe batman had had the same question. that’s probably why the ‘interrogation’ too so long earlier, he realizes belatedly.
“i won’t pry. but y/n, i do have to remind you that the more information you’re ready to share with us, the more prepared we are when the light comes to this dimension to wreak whatever havoc you want to prevent,” sunghoon says, picking and choosing his words very carefully.
“and i’ve already given all the information i have to the justice league. i don’t know why i should have to share the information i have with every single person in this dimension. and besides, what does my personal enlightenment have to do with the light’s plans?” y/n asks, her tone quick and sharp, unlike sunghoon has ever heard her before.
granted, he only knew her for a total of about ten hours, but still. he never expected to hear such a tone from a girl like her, especially when she had been so open before. but it was like she said - when your only female figure is talia al ghul, it’s hard to imagine trying to be anything but the most cunning and cutthroat person possible. maybe all of her friendliness was just a facade and this was her true personality?
speaking of female figures, sunghoon wonders what had happened to her mother. clearly, she wasn’t in the picture if y/n had no clue who she was. but sunghoon knew from his own time as the detective of the team that oftentimes, in cases where the children were isolated from the rest of the world and raised by a singular parent, it was a trauma response from a behavior from the other parent.
of course, it wasn’t as though sunghoon had a bunch of cases to base his theories off of, but the patterns were almost glaringly obvious in the few cases that he did have.
“right. i’m sorry if i was prying. i just - never mind. i’m sorry y/n. you’re entitled to your privacy,” he says, stepping back from the doorway of y/n’s room to turn around and leave when he feels a hand grab onto his wrist.
his first instinct is to flip the owner of it over his shoulder and press a knife to their neck (battle worn responses, courtesy of training with batman and black canary) but for some reason, his second instinct is to cover y/n’s hand with his own. and sunghoon definitely doesn’t have any answers for why exactly.
“i’m sorry. i know i’m being touchy. it’s just that everything is just so new and so much. and like i said, i went a good part of my life thinking that you guys were the bad guys; it’s hard to remember that i can actually tell people things. and you know, trust people with information. you gotta give me some time. i promise, i’ve already said everything that’s absolutely vital to say,” she says, offering a sheepish look as an olive branch.
sunghoon’s heart pangs with guilt, and he takes another step back, barely registering the look in y/n’s eyes when his wrist disconnects from her hand. “yeah, of course. trust me, i know what it’s like better than most people what it’s like to feel like you can’t trust those around you. especially when you’ve just been thrown into a new environment. i’ll leave you to getting settled in.”
he turns around, making his way down the hallway, stopping halfway and turning around, only to make eye contact with y/n, who was watching him walk, her hand on the doorway and her body leaning slightly out of the room to get a better look.
“um. soojin and jay should be awake soon. they live here so you’ll never be completely alone, so don’t worry about safety or anything, okay?” he says awkwardly, trying to offer some sort of explanation of why exactly he kept hesitating to leave her standing there.
“thanks. that’s good to hear. but um, you don’t live here?” she asks, thumbing the metal of the doorway.
“nah. just soojin and jay. the rest of us live in our own places outside of mount justice,” sunghoon says, and he can’t help the eyebrow that cocks upwards, the corner of his lips tugged upwards. “why? would you prefer if i did?”
“no! i mean, no! i mean, like, i don’t have a preference if you lived here or not - it would be totally cool either way. i just - i was just asking,” she says, stumbling over her words and sunghoon finally feels the tension in his shoulders melt. turns out, his charm still worked on cute girls. even cute girls who’ve been surrounded by psychopaths like talia al ghul and klarion the witchboy.
for some reason, that thought suddenly makes the tension return to his shoulders.
“whatever you say, y/n.”
[march 18, 20XX, 6:48 p.m.]
[gotham city, southern end of new jersey]
“i assume you didn’t ask me to come back to gotham to feed me dinner, eunwoo,” sunghoon says, but he helps himself to another serving of steak, which doesn’t go unnoticed by neither eunwoo (batman, and the man that had raised sunghoon ever since he was orphaned) nor alfred (the family butler who had truly raised sunghoon). 
“no. but i figured that it would be appreciated,” eunwoo says, and sunghoon can hear the affection practically dripping from his voice. when sunghoon had first seen eunwoo don the attire of the ‘batman’ suit, he’d been shocked.
sunghoon had always known eunwoo as a rather sweet and disciplined man, but he’d never imagined that eunwoo would also have the side of him that showed unreal levels of intelligence, seriousness, and a thirst for justice that he’d successfully passed down to sunghoon.
“alfred’s cooking never goes unappreciated, that much i can guarantee.” sunghoon sets down his fork, chewing slowly as he lets the silence between them grow longer.
when he was younger, full of passion to prove his worth to batman, sunghoon would run his mouth with things he’d learned or discovered, unintentionally telling batman many things that he probably wouldn’t have in other circumstances, just to fill the silence. but now, sunghoon just ate quietly, feigning nonchalance.
he knows that he’s won the battle of wits when eunwoo breaks the silence.
“so about ardor,” eunwoo begins. his eyes are trained on the food in front of him but sunghoon knows that all of his attention is on him. “she’s interesting. she’s shared some information that’s hard to believe but if it’s true, it could put at a serious advantage above the light.”
“right. well, i hope that information reaches the right people,” sunghoon says, shutting his eyes in regret when he realizes the freudian slip he’d let through his filtering system.
“what do you mean by that, young master?” alfred asks, and sunghoon sighs, knowing that the question was said by alfred but it was coming from batman. and sunghoon could never really keep any secrets from alfred anyway. the old man had a way of weaseling secrets out of him; sunghoon figures that alfred was secretly in espionage before retiring to help eunwoo take over cha enterprises.
or something like that, anyway.
“i just mean that she really emphasized that the information should get to the right people. she landed in gotham after she escaped the dimension she’s from. now i don’t know how much control she had of where she landed, but she’s mentioned many times that she thought that the justice league was evil. but the very point of our team is espionage and identity protection; there’s no reason that she should have to suspecting us, since she would have no idea who we were. but she still refused to tell us any information and insisted on only telling batman, who could’ve been proven to be evil, for all she knew.
“it could just be because she landed in gotham and did a little bit of research to figure out who the vigilante of gotham was, fixated on that singular person, and decided not to trust anyone else because of the people she’s been exposed to her entire life. but someone so skittish wouldn’t reveal any details to anyone and just insist on talking to you - batman - the whole time. there’s no real reason she had to give us any details if she truly didn’t trust us.
“so, that can’t be the reason why she was so hesitant sharing the information about the light with the rest of us. my guess? we’ve got a mole in the justice league or in the team. it’s likely not the team, since everyone just came back from their objectives safely and soojin would definitely realize if someone had been turned with her mind-reading capacity. i don’t doubt that martian manhunter, since he has the same set of powers, would also be able to see if there’s a mole in the justice league. but it’s different. not only is soojin more powerful, she’s also got an emotional link between the six of us - we all read certain signatures in her mind and she’s the first one to know whenever one of us have the slightest changes in our emotions. she’d figure out a mole in a second.
“so that rules out the team. her information must have something to do with the light having a mole. but she doesn’t know anyone else in the justice league, or maybe she knew for a fact that you weren’t the mole, which is why she’s been so fixated on finding you and telling you everything else. i assume that you’re only even telling me anything after verifying her information and getting her consent to tell me, if you found me safe enough to tell.” sunghoon can practically see the brainwaves radiating off of batman, analyzing every word that sunghoon had chosen to use to explaining his reasoning.
sunghoon hadn’t planned on revealing that soojin’s (and the team’s) bond ran deeper than just connecting them telepathically, but at least by telling batman that, he’d realize that the team was more than capable of taking care of each other and that they definitely didn’t need any new members right now.
besides y/n. if she wanted to join the team, sunghoon honestly wasn’t opposed to the idea of her joining, and he doubted that anyone else was truly offended by her presence. she’d be rather welcome, he thinks.
which is not what he should be thinking of right now. right.
“you’ve deduced the truth. there’s a mole in the justice league,” eunwoo says, shaking his head and leaning back into his chair. “but if we were to brute force it and try and figure out who it was in a way that’s obvious, the light would either find someone else to manipulate or just declare all out war on the justice league. and considering the members of the light, we cannot afford a war like that right now.”
his gaze turns to sunghoon, and grows thoughtful. “but the team can help us out. you specialize in espionage. it would be considerably easier for the team to find the mole, since the light isn’t exactly aware of the team besides chance encounters with a few villains here and there that might be affiliated with the light. in addition, if ardor were to be part of the team, she would have an easier time easing into this dimension, or maybe even be able to point out exactly who the mole is if she’s ever seen them before.”
“are you sure that y/n should be on the battlefield though? i don’t doubt her abilities but we really don’t know how strong she is. and she’d be fighting people she was once on the same side as,” sunghoon points out and eunwoo’s face grows visibly sad, something that sunghoon has seen very rarely during all of his time with him.
“i know. and i hate to ask that of her. but you and i know better than anyone else what it’s like to grow up around such evil people throughout your entire life. and having no one else to turn to? she needs people her age around her who can show her what life is supposed to be like. no one else should have to suffer like she did, but something tells me that she’s strong enough to be able to point the proverbial finger at the proverbial villain. living with such people could not have been easy. i hate to ask her to channel her revenge in this way but - ” eunwoo cuts off when he sees the look in sunghoon’s eyes.
“i’m not going to ask her to stand in danger’s way just so that it’s easier for us to beat the people that she’s always grown up with - the only people she’s known for her entire life. but the team will help her assimilate into this dimension. we’ll be her friends,” sunghoon says, and his voice has a protective edge to it that he can’t bother to disguise.
“just promise me that if she ever wants to join the team, you don’t shut her out,” eunwoo says finally. “give her a chance.”
sunghoon just looks at eunwoo. “i won’t stop myself from doing what’s best for the team.”
dinner is relatively quiet after that, alfred starting conversations here and there about sunghoon’s day job as a detective (it was relatively easy to deal with normal, petty crime here and there when there were so many crimes that involved superhuman people with streaks of world domination). but other than that, the three of them were rather silent, each of them absorbed in their own thoughts.
sunghoon excuses himself, offering to wash the dishes to take the load off of alfred, gathering the plates and balancing them delicately as he leaves the room to reach the kitchen.
alfred looks over to eunwoo, who’s looking up at the light fixture that they’d installed three years ago, at sunghoon’s request.
“our dining room looks more like a funeral room, eunwoo,” sunghoon had said. “come on, old bat. let’s add some color. some pizzazz.”
“pizzazz?” eunwoo had asked, eyebrows raised in humor.
“you know, whatever young kids call it these days.”
“you’re nineteen, sunghoon.”
“and you’re twenty-four. we all need some more life in this place. you’d think we’re all alfred’s age with the way this house looks.”
“young master, what offense has my age brought in all of this?”
“sorry alfred. low hanging fruit.”
“that feels like a euphemism.”
“that’s gross.”
eunwoo sighs, a quick huff of air escaping his mouth. that was about as close to a laugh as alfred was used to these days, anyway.
“when did we end up like this, alfred? he used to look up to me for everything. we did everything together. and i still love the kid half to death but it’s just difficult when it feels like we’re fighting about everything,” eunwoo says, never taking his eyes off of the light fixture. what do you know? it did have some pizzazz.
“that’s a part of raising kids, young master. you learn that at some point, the world is no longer ours. it’s the next generations. and they might not listen to elders’ advice because they have their own plans for the world but if there’s anything i’ve learned in raising you, it’s that oftentimes, their head is in the right place. they see things in ways that we cannot.” alfred smiles, leaving his seat in the middle of the table to sit right next to eunwoo, his gaze warm and comforting.
“he’s not my actual son, you know that right?” eunwoo says and alfred leans over to smack him upside the head - something that many people would dare to do to the batman.
“and you know as well as i do that blood relations means nothing when it comes to family, don’t you?” alfred says gently, his tone as firm as a warm hand clasped in a friend’s.
eunwoo glances at the doorway that led down to the kitchen and smiles faintly. 
“yeah. i know that.”
[march 18, 20XX, 6:48 p.m.]
[???]
“YOU WHAT?” felix faust roars, fisting klarion’s freshly pressed shirt in angry palms. “WHERE THE HELL IS MY DAUGHTER?”
“alright pal, i’m gonna let that one go because i’m not in the mood right now. calm down,” klarion says, pushing faust off of him. 
“YOU TOLD MY DAUGHTER THE TRUTH ABOUT THIS DIMENSION AND YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN? YOU MOTHERFU - ” faust never gets to finish the rest of his sentence because the second that he gets back in klarion’s face, the witchboy casts a spell over him, causing him to fall asleep right where he was standing.
klarion looks at his slumped figure on the ground, almost disgusted before clicking his tongue. “i don’t know where these lower level peasants get all their audacity from.”
he looks around for teekles, his cat familiar, stretching his arms out for teekles to jump into.
“hm. it would be a big issue with the rest of the light if they realize that faust’s daughter is missing. pah, i don’t know why i helped him keep her here the whole time. she was gonna be a liability anyway,” klarion mutters to himself. “then again, i guess i was the one who let her out. and told her the truth. well. it was bound to come out at some point.”
he shrugs, ready to walk away when teekles meows in his arms and he groans, stamping his feet childishly.
“what do you mean i have to clean up my mess? i don’t wanna!” klarion says but teekles just meows at him once more and klarion drags himself, kicking and screaming to the dimensional pocket that lead him in and out of this isolated bubble dimension faust had created to isolate his daughter.
“i’m not going to tell the light just yet. let’s see where this girl could’ve gone. oh bother. this is too much trouble for the five minutes of fun i got.”
“meow.”
“i don’t appreciate the sass, teekles.”
and in his childish hurry, for all of his wit, klarion the witchboy is none the wiser when felix faust rises from his slumber, plotting the death of his own daughter.
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al-of-the-stars · 2 days
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Hii! I came back after some time. I hope you are doing good <3
I've recently had my mind on Stolas and Stolas only soooo I have a request:
Could you maybe do something like the reader is Octavias' new mom? I'd honestly prefer if you put child Via but I'm not picky! :))
Also, relationships (cause I don't wanna sound weird) Octavia+Reader= Platonic 〔〕 Stolas+reader= Romantic
And I am so sorry if I'm working this with your request closed! I first do then think!
~💎
A Happy Family
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A/n: AAAA THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA!! This was so fun to write! For plot purposes, in this fic, Stella and Stolas had the divorce already when Via was a kid. Hope you enjoy!! :D
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You were nervous to say the least. You were about to meet Octavia, Stolas’ daughter. You knew a lot about her already from how much Stolas talked about her. She seemed to be really sweet and on one hand, you were excited to finally meet the little owlette. On the other hand, you were afraid that she wouldn't like you. Stolas’ encouragement definitely helped you feel a bit better. As you entered the castle, you had only one goal: make a good first impression. Stolas wrapped his arm around your waist and led you to the living room, where an adorable purple-haired owl demon sat on the couch. Her eyes lit up when she saw you and waved enthusiastically. 
“Octavia, this is Y/n!” Stoals gestured toward you calmly. You smile and wave back at her, trying to hide how much you were internally panicking. 
“Woah! They're pretty!” She said. Your goal had been achieved! Now all that's left to do is go to Looloo Land and just have fun with your fiance and future daughter. Via watched in excitement as Stolas opened a portal right in front of the gate to her favorite theme park. The rest of the day was spent going on rides, playing super rigged carnival games (which frustrated Stolas to the point where he asked you to take Via elsewhere for a few minutes while he threatened the annoying man running the game), and eating a ton of sugar. When you returned to the castle, Via immediately hugged you.
“Y/n, can I call you Mom?” You hugged her back and held back tears of joy 
“Of course!” As the cute moment continued, you suddenly heard a camera click. You both turn your heads to see Stolas teary eyed with a smile on his face and a camera in his hand. This was a new page in the story and the start of a happy family .
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midnight-sun08 · 3 days
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to fable smp
oh god the finale is today. time has really flown. i haven’t been a fan for very long, i had only subscribed to sherbert on youtube back in july i think? i had stumbled upon some old dsmp cosplay compilations, looking for some technoblade cosplays. it was around the anniversary of losing my great grandmother , and needed something to get me through the grief.
that’s when i found sherbert. their cosplay was one of the few that really stuck out to me, so i looked in the description to find their youtube channel. while scrolling through it, i saw something called ‘fable smp’. not really thinking much of it, i clicked on one of the vods.
now id watched minecraft roleplays before, empires smp and outsiders smp mainly, but fable struck me on a whole new level. i think that one of the things that really drew me in was how much everyone really connected with each other in the smp. it seemed like the cast was super close, and i loved that. the story telling was also incredible, unlike anything i’d ever seen.
i got twitch near the end of june, for some summer camp streaming class i took a whim, thinking it would be fun, but i never really watched streams. that all changed once i found sherbert, heyhay, ghosty, ven, and so many other streamers. i became invested in fable, thinking up headcanons, thinking of possible fic ideas i never got around to writing, and sketching the characters in the margins of my notebooks.
then my great grandfather passed away, about a month ago. the last time that i had had a family member pass away, i kind of just suppressed it, being quite young. this time however, i couldn’t hold it in. so i turned to fable. i spent so much time watching old comfort vids while doing homework, or studying. fable had helped me through quite a few hard times, and im eternally grateful for that.
i even tried out cosplaying because of fable, if you could call it that. it was really just an old halloween costume that i had worn for one of my cousins costume birthday party, but i tried out some of the things that i’ve seen the cast of fable do for their cosplays, and found that i really enjoyed it.
to make this long post even longer, i just wanted to say thank you to each and every single cast member, mod, and anyone else that has helped out behind the scenes, voiced a character, body acted for a cutscene, done art for an animatic, or anything else that we the fans don’t even know goes into making what has surely helped so many people, like it has with me.
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bongo-clash · 2 years
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Peacock Au Part 2
Okay so!!! Part two of this post about the DPxDC eldritch Danny fic that I'm now calling the peacock au lmao!!!!
(Chapter two of the fic under the cut) (Edit: You can now find part 3 Here!!!)
-
When the feeling of being just slightly dispersed settles onto the outer layer of his skin while he’s lying in bed, Danny knows what’s about to happen.
The thing is, he’s in his pyjamas. Sure, he could just stay in his human form for the summoning- because he’s done it before and it went fine- but he never knows who it’s going to be, and being spirited away to some college students’ dorm in his pyjamas is embarrassing. And sure, having something appear in the circle in the first place is probably enough that they’re not paying attention to what he’s wearing either way, but he refuses to bank on that. So, with a sigh, he allows himself the transformation, his human appearance falling easily away. 
It always feels more natural to be a ghost during rituals, probably because they’re summoning a ghost and not a human, but still, it’s different. He feels that little bit looser, maybe even a little more himself, though he guesses being a bit more glow-y is just nice generally, and the space decals that tend pop up as part of his whole light-show-summons are a homely touch. On the other hand, it does make it harder to take stock of his surroundings when he finally fades into view wherever he is. He can make out vague grey walls and floors, but that’s about it. 
Well, that and the man in front of him. Blond, taller than him if he wasn’t in the air, somewhere past his forties, wearing a beige trenchcoat and looking oddly terrified. Danny can see his hands shaking just a little. Does he know this guy from somewhere?
“Uh, dude?” Danny calls, going for something light. It’s annoying being dragged from the comfort of his own home, definitely, but this guy doesn’t look like some cult member, and if he’s alone and this scared it might mean he really needs the help. Danny can sympathise with doing stupid things in stupid situations. “You good? You’re not looking too hot there.”
He knows he’s using ghost speak, but it feels weird to use English in a summoning like this, and fortunately, Danny spies a translation sigil wrapped around the inner centre of the circle, so he knows it should be translating right back to the guy in front of him. Very handy for language barriers, he’ll admit- and it’s working, too, if the reply is any indication. 
“I was told you could- you could help with the pits?”
His voice is gravelly, and he can’t tell if it’s because he’s nervous, doesn’t speak much, a smoker, or all three. Either way, probably not Danny’s business, and right now he’s just curious about what the man’s talking about. “Pits? That’s kinda vague, man. What pits?”
“The Lazarus pits to, uh, to be specific. There’s a huge one cropping up under Gotham that’s not supposed to be there, and the local- I mean, the locals are getting antsy about it. I… heard you could take care of ‘em.”
Lazarus Pits. He’s heard of those, Clockwork’s mentioned them a couple of times. They’re natural portals that open when enough energy is built up, and end up stabilising into the ground instead of collapsing to help seep ambient ectoplasm into the air. They don’t work as actual portals after that, but it’s vital to keep at least a few around no matter how corrupted they can get through human interference, because it keeps the balance of both realms steady. Having too many around isn’t a good thing, though, and especially not in populated areas. It can cause ecto-contamination, which is a lot more dangerous when you haven’t been around it since birth (or if you aren’t from Amity). 
Speaking of which, it certainly is stinking up the place, now that he’s aware of it. Or maybe that’s just Gotham, he’s heard a lot about-
Hang on. Gotham. Weird potentially magic dude. He knew he recognised him! That’s John Constantine! Danny’s heard of John Constantine! Sam’s got her fingers in enough credible occult spaces that they’re at least vaguely aware of some of his endeavours, but if he’s in Gotham then that probably means he’s doing something for the Batman and, wow, Danny totally would’ve tried to go more professional for this if he knew this was going to be his first encounter with the Justice League,of all things. 
Well, he guesses it’s too late now. At least the guy’s not being too weird about it or anything. “Man, yeah, I’ve totally got the smell stuck up my nose now that you mention it. Do you get that as well? Since, y’know, you’ve probably dealt with a couple ghosts.”
“Uh… no, I don’t think so. But can you fix it?”
Dang, the guy seems stressed about this. Maybe he just doesn’t like being in Gotham territory? He’s pretty sure he’s heard of Batman having a thing about magic. “Sure I can.”
“…Will you fix it?”
Danny figures that if they already know about his status through his Zone maintenance duties, and he’s going to be helping the Justice League, he might as well show off a little bit. Assenting with a hum and trying not to grin, he puts his hands to the floor, and lets his ectoplasm reach out to the source of the smell, sending a flash of light across the ground as it goes through. When it twinges back a response, he closes his eyes, and his energy curls around it, threading through like needles to seams, and pushes it shut with a gentle nudge. Luckily, it hadn’t been around for too long- barely fully formed and not even corrupted by human contact yet- it would’ve be a lot more difficult if it had. 
He lets his hands rise up again after a long moment, looking to Constantine for a reaction. He can’t quite gauge what the man is thinking. “Alrighty, that should’ve done it.”
“Uh… cheers?”
He’s about to say something along the lines of ‘no problem’ or ‘you’re welcome’, but then he remembers he should probably warn him about the aftermath so he doesn’t freak. “The pit shouldn’t come back again, but just as like, a PSA: you might see more shades than usual hovering around for the next while. It shouldn’t be too big a deal so long as you leave ‘em alone, though, so don’t worry about it.”
For all that Danny’s trying to be considerate here, Constantine doesn’t look very considerated. “Can I- uh, yeah, great advice. ‘Appreciate it. But, can I ask just, y’know, what you are? Or not.”
“…Dude, what d’you think I am?”He replies, thoroughly bemused. Isn’t this guy supposed to be one of the League’s paranormal experts or something? He really should be able to recognise a ghost by now. “I keep your Lazarus Pits in check. You know, the pits of the dead?”
Okay, maybe a little rude on his side, but he thinks Constantine’s expression is a bit of an overreaction; he can see the sheen of sweat across the man’s forehead reflecting the light of the sigils. “Fair enough! Forget I asked- cheers for sorting out that pit, though. Uh, don’t suppose you’ll just let me go on my way or anything now.”
“Well, I mean, this was a favour for Batman, right?” He asks blithely, pointedly not paying attention to the way the man’s face keeps contorting. He swears Sam said he was more stoic than this. “I’m gonna go- ‘cause I’ve got things to do- but I guess if something comes up I’ll come to you? Or Batman, since this is his city and all. Don’t worry, I’ll let you know.”
Figuring there’s nothing left to be said, Danny lets the return sigil on the edge of the circle activate and punt him back home, wheezing a half-sigh and arching his back once the wispy image of wherever they’d been recedes. He probably looks exhausted after all that- no matter how recently formed the pit was, it still takes a little strain, and he’d just been about to sleep before he got summoned- but looking in the mirror on his wall for confirmation, he doesn’t find his usual face. Something twinges against where his spine should be, confirming its own previously unnoticed presence in the mortal plane. 
…He didn’t go ghost when Constantine summoned him, he used his true form. That must be why he looked so nervous that whole time! And, man, ghostspeak never translates over quite right in this form, either- the Ancients use a different dialect to original ghostspeak- the man probably wasn’t hearing what Danny thought he was at all. What if the only reason he wasn’t attacking was because he was terrified? What must Constantine have thought of him? 
Crap. He has to fix this. How is he going to find him?
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polaroidcats · 7 months
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Ugly crying & the marauders generation - a pseudo-scientific approach (my marauders crying PhD abstract)
Abstract
In recent days, there have been a variety of claims as to who the prettiest and ugliest crier in the marauders generation could be. This paper aims to address the recent surge in opinions on the matter, and categorize different approaches as well as add a new approach to the scientific examination of ugliness/prettiness when it comes to crying. I hope to provide readers with an overview of the current state of research and encourage all marauders scholars to add their own and I intend to make a contribution to the discourse by committing to the bit and writing a pseudo-academic paper about it instead of actually working on my thesis.
Introduction
In the following paper, the discourse about 5 marauders era characters will be examined in regards to their various levels of perceived ugliness whilst crying. Scholars who may ask why Peter [Pettigrew] is not included in this analysis are advised to refer to acclaimed marauders ugly crying scholar @lynxindisguise's (2023) original poll on the popular blogging website "tumblr.com" which did not include Peter, but rather two non-marauders characters named Lily and Regulus. This paper will follow that approach, since Peter is the nastiest skank bitch I have ever met, I do not trust him and he is a fugly slut. The characters included in this approach are as follows: James Potter, Lily Evans, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Regulus Black.
Following the scientific criteria for ugly crying, as stated by lynxindisguise et. al (2023), the question of the ugliest crier can be answered by observing the crying person and assessing their ugly-levels on the following parameters: (1) unbecoming facial expressions, (2) facial swelling/blotching, (3) unsettling noises, (4) snot factor, (5) tear volume, (6) general loss of dignity, (7) glistening eyes/lashes, (8) Victorian heroine factor, (9) elegant tear-wiping, (10) post-cry glow (ibid).
Criteria (1)-(6) can be categorized as the ugly crying parameters whereas (7)-(10) are pretty crying parameters, creating a false binary between ugly and pretty crying, which may be problematised and addressed in another the paper. In contrast to lynxindisguise’s original 10 criteria to measure the aesthetics of crying, this paper proposes to add (11) explosiveness of cry as another ugly crying parameter, in order to get a more clear assessment of where on the ugly-pretty crying scale a character falls.
The ugly crying parameters
(1) Unbecoming facial expressions
James Potter is mentioned in this category by several marauders scholars: @jaylienpotter talks about his red face and ugly sobbing, @artbyace mentions his “scrunched up cry face” and @sectoren claimes “james (…) is that one handsome guy that when the waterworks get going becomes like. Cartoonishly ugly”, raising the question of upkeeping toxic masculinity in order to avoid having to witness more of James Potter’s crying “mug”.
Though James Potter features heavily in this category, another character who is also mentioned just as often is Remus Lupin: @kaaaaaaarf, @appreciatedmoron and @http-starboy all emphasise that Remus Lupin is the one with a red and blotchy face.
(2) facial swelling/blotching
While there is a definitive overlap between the categories of facial swelling/blotching, unbecoming facial expressions and snot factor, Sirius’ and Regulus’ victorian heroine complexions, which give them an advantage in the homonymous category, may be to their disadvantage in the “blotching” category. This will require further research by other scholars.
(3) unsettling noises
James Potter is mentioned in this category by Jaylienpotter (2023), claiming he not only hiccups when crying but also that “his cries are one of the most heartbreaking things you’ll ever hear” and similarly, artbyace states that “James loves and feels so loudly”, whereas “Sirius is silent”, both sentiments are reminiscent of znelda’s (2023) statements that James “was allowed to feel his emotions freely in a loving household” and “Sirius (…) [is] used to hide [his] feelings and [has] become stoic”.
With several other scholars, among them also @jamesunderwater (2023) raising the point that James may be the ugliest crier due to him being “the only one well adjusted enough to have access to his feelings” this raises the question of possibly introducing another category, maybe of emotional awareness/stability to be able to measure this parameter more efficiently, though emotional vulnerability may also just be a part of the unsettling noises parameter, suggesting that there is a correlation between noisiness and the existing environment being welcoming to and accepting of various expressions of emotions.
(4) snot factor
The most popular winner in the snot factor category seems to be Remus Lupin, with several scholars agreeing that his sobs are the dampest and snottiest out of all the candidates. kaaaaaaarf (2023) writes “he turnes all red and blochty and snot drips out of his nose (…) he cant (sic) not cry with his mouth open as well so there is a lot of spit”, and appreciatedmoron (2023) agrees with kaaaaaaarf on this.
It only seems right to me to include spit in the snot category as well, seeing as they’re both crying-related bodily fluids that add to the ugly-cry factor. http-starboy (2023) also mentions snot in regards to Remus Lupin, which compared to both their comments in (1) opens up the question of how unbecoming facial expressions, more particularly redness of the face and snot factor may be related, as several authors seem to write about both specifically in relation to each other. Whether this is just pure coincidence or not would need further research, for which we currently do not have enough funding. This is only one of the many research gaps in the relatively new field of marauder’s ugly crying studies, which cannot fully be addressed in this paper.
James Potter is also mentioned in the snot category, namely by the marauders scholar artbyace (2023).
(5) tear volume
Artbyace (2023) claims James Potter is “full on bawling” which can only be assumed to refer to tear volume, but the most convincing argument for tear volume comes from the acclaimed marauders scholar @fruityindividual (2023), stating that “tsunami warning tones go off in sirius’ brain anytime remus is close 2 (sic) tears” which already indicates high levels of tear volumes. The author then goes on to specify the volume by claiming that “indeed the ocean wishes rj lupin would jump in and help contribute 2 (sic) rising sea levels”, further emphasizing the volume of Remus's tears.
(6) general loss of dignity
@pastaplatypus (2023) writes about James Potter not being able to do a Melodramatic Bollywood Cry, which is perceived as inherently racist by the crier.
I would like to argue that Sirius Black also deserves to be mentioned in this category. While as of today, with less than 1 hour left to vote, 15.5% of voters agree that Sirius is the ugliest crier, the more outspoken voices all argue for different ugly criers. Due to their upbringing, I am tempted to name both Black brothers in the “loss of dignity” category and look forward to reading future contributions to this discussion.
The pretty crying parameters
(7) glistening eyes/lashes
Undoubtedly Sirius Black deserves to be mentioned in this category. I believe his dark lashes and glimmering eyes are part of what makes him the prettiest crier. Whereas Remus’s eyes also sometimes glisten or appear red, and it is usually attributed to be caused by drug consumption, which more often than not is a wrong assumption, but he happily goes along with the pretense of being a weed-smoking bad boy in order to hide his ugly crying damp tendencies.
(8) Victorian heroine factor
It almost seems superfluous to even mention Sirius (and, to a lesser degree, Regulus) Black in this category. This category was made for Sirius, as is apparent when reading lynxindisguises (2023) description of the victorian heroine factor, in response to a question by the scholar @plecotusauritus:
“the Victorian Heroine Factor is a deeply scientific assessment of the Vibes. Is this person giving tragically beautiful, windswept Victorian Heroine, sobbing gently into their hands while sprawled across a boulder or a well or a fountain of some sort? When they look up at you, do their tear-plumped lips part elegantly as a single tear slides down their cheek?”
(9) elegant tear-wiping
There hasn't been a lot of research in this area, but I would like to propose handkerchiefs with embroidered initials and family crests as another potential factor in favor of the Black brothers scoring high marks in this category as well as the Victorian heroine factor.
(10) post-cry glow
Artbyace (2023) claims “lily is always beautiful (…) even when crying”, which is echoed by znelda’s (2023) earlier claim that “Lily (…) [is] a woman and no woman is ugly when crying.”
Sirius is the other popular choice by marauders scholars for this category, with @in-flvx (2023) stating that he “handsomely handsomes while dying after 12 years of torture hell and another year in shackles”, which would mean that “a few tears would[n’t] stop him from being the hottest person in the room at all times” (ibid).
Additional parameters
I am suggesting to introduce an additional metric in order to further specify and better assess the ugly-crying levels:
(11) explosiveness of cry
@felixantares (2023) introduces the idea that Remus “is the type that very few people have been seen cry because he ignores every difficult emotion hes (sic) ever had (…) and it all explodes at once and its horrible to watch when he breaks down”, a sentiment shared by several of the other authors mentioned above in various other categories.
Further opinions & conclusions
The most popular consensus seems to be that Sirius cannot be the ugliest crier, sometimes also in direct comparison to his brother: @spindrifters (2023) answers the question of the ugliest crier with “obviously it’s regulus”, elaborating that “at least [it’s] definitely not sirius bc (sic) reg is canonically less handsome in all ways” which brings up the question if regular beauty plays into ugly crying. This is contrasted by lynxindisguises argument, that Sirius may be an ugly crier because he’s so gorgeous, and his ugly crying subverts the expectations of beauty:
“the most beautiful man alive looks hideous while crying, and his deeply awkward and perpetually damp bf (sic) is literally in his element while crying – dampness becomes him, you might say.”
This statement raises yet another question – does regular crying make the crier more or less ugly? Can an ugly crier become a pretty crier by practice or are we all born either ugly or pretty criers, condemned to this fate for life?
While this paper has given an overview of the current state of research to ugly crying/pretty crying, it has also raised many more questions. Other topics which may be addressed in future papers also include the philosophical question whether ugly crying is in the eye of the beholder and if it is possible to ugly cry without being perceived, and if it is possible to ugly cry if the person perceiving you doesn’t find it ugly. Since the research field of ugly crying is a relatively new one, we can only hope to read many more opinions on these and other topics in the future, and I look forward to reading different scholar’s approaches to these highly relevant topics.
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13eyond13 · 3 months
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love it when a character that's hard to read intuitively for you has like a dedicated fandom interpreter who can just glance at their blank face in a panel and then give you a 3k word essay on their innermost thoughts & desires & fears and neatly tie it back into the themes & whatnot as if it's the most obvious thing in the world
#im talking about griffith btw#guts i feel i get intuitively - maybe because i have some personality traits in common with him#and we get more about his life concretely told to us in canon. so he is a bit easier to pin down as a character and feel attached to for me#but whenever i was reading the manga i just kept wanting more insight about griffith's actions and feelings#like ok yeah its fun to have mysterious antagonists and suspense /tension etc but its also fun to feel like you deeply understand them too#and i felt like that was a bit missing from him for me in canon#so reading about him in analysis and fics is the most fun for me rn#he always felt kinda half unreal to me- which maybe was the point of him - but i wanted a bit more about his childhood or something?#and wished we had more stuff explicitly from his pov in the story to read or explanation about his transformation or wtv#and now he's so much more closed off to me even than he was in the golden age. i keep waiting for him to explain stuff and he does not#ANYWAYS all this rambling to say some people out there are very good at interpreting him and making his like. insecurities#more obvious to me bc i didnt really get that side of him from canon intuitively well#also im really enjoying reading the first few berserk fics ive read#there may not be a ton of them out there but there is def writing talent in the fandom#i'll share some recs once i'm done sifting through most of what's out there to read#also (not to tie everything back to death note but it IS my home fandom after all)#i feel griffith is obvs the more light-like character here and L maybe a bit guts-like? but unlike berserk in death note#light is the one you get to know best and L is the mysterious / unreal one you don't get a lot of concrete insight into#and in the DN fandom I can read the more mysterious character intuitively but had to warm up to the less mysterious one instead#and the mystery of L makes sense to me and doesnt bug me as much due to like - he HAS to hide a lot about himself or else he will die lol#so some similarities there but also some opposite feels as well#berserk spoilers#p
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fogwitchoftheevermore · 2 months
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(context for watcher/listener!sausage can be found in the “videos” tag on my blog if you want it, but this ficlet can be read without said context)
- - -
“Y’know, of all the Hermits I was expecting to be pulling me into a dark corner tonight, I did not expect you to be first, Grian! I love the initiative!”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Grian says in a voice near a hiss. He’s got Sausage by the wrist, leading him into a small area of the upper floor of the tavern in Sanctaury that does look like it was built for the exact purpose Sausage is implying. Grian decides to ignore that as well.
“What are you doing here?” Grian’s straight to the point. He always has to be, with these Things, if he doesn’t want to get trapped in a loop of slant rhyming pleasantries.
“What do you mean?” Sausage asks, shaking his wrist out of Grian’s tight grip and leaning comfortably against the wall. “This is where I live. It’s my home. If anything, I should be asking you mysterious strangers what you’re doing here, but I’m sure you’ve heard that question enough for one day.”
“You know exactly what I mean.” Grian crosses his arms and tries his best not to look petulant, but he sure feels like it. “I thought They’d given up on trying to snatch me back, so why would They send you of all people? What’s your game?”
Sausage laughs, honest to god laughs, like he can’t believe Grian’s even asking him such a question. Grian thinks it’s a reasonable question, in this scenario, but what he thinks and what’s reasonable rarely seems to matter with these things.
“They didn’t send me,” Sausage looks him up and down in that way that makes Grian have to physically stop himself from curling inwards. This is why he never talks to Them. “Nobody sends me anywhere, they don’t tell me what to do and I like it that way! I just do my own thing. Isn’t that what you’re doing?”
“No you’re not! You’re not- you can’t be! That’s not how this works!” Grian begins to notice that he’s no longer whisper-shouting and starting to just-normal-shout and takes a deep breath, trying not to draw the attention of his friends enjoying themselves on the floor below. And, realistically, in the other dark corners Sausage seems to have built into this place.
“That’s exactly how this works. You didn’t think you were the only person who’d left, did you?”
Grian opens his mouth, closes it, and thinks. In hindsight… yeah, he had kind of assumed he’d been the only person who’d left. Not for lack of trying, probably- but They’d tried for so long to get him back, kept him closely surveilled even when They’d accepted he was gone- surely some people had caved to that pressure eventually. When there was no sign They’d ever let up, ever let you go… he could understand eventually letting it overtake you.
“Did- did you leave, too?” Grian doesn’t remember the last time he saw Sausage’s face. He didn’t know him back then, of course. He probably would’ve connected the man with the person Pearl so often spoke about sooner. But he knows it’s been a long time, maybe even longer than the last time Grian had gone There. He doesn’t think Sausage had been There, that day. This might explain why.
“Eh, not quite?”
“What-“ Grian flails, both mentally and with his arms a bit. “What do you mean not quite?”
“Exactly what I said! I was never- it’s complicated, y’know?”
“Explain. Now.”
“Well, uh,” Sausage seems to flounder for the first time since this conversation started, which Grian is choosing to take as a victory. “Look, I wasn’t- they didn’t pick me. For this, or for anything, ever. Sometimes things just happen and you get yourself into a place you shouldn’t have and then… they can’t get rid of me, I can’t get rid of them, it is what it is.”
Grian stares at him for a long moment. Really stares at him, in the same way Sausage had looked him over earlier, in the same way that makes you feel like you’re under a microscope. Judging by the sudden nerves in his eyes, Grian can assume he feels it too. Grian remembers his face. That had been the first thing he’d noticed, when the Hermits had arrived. It had been a long time since they’d seen each other, but Grian knew his face. And now that Grian was studying him, really trying to remember… he’s not sure he quite likes what memories he’s dredging up.
“What are you?”
“Grian!” Sausage’s voice drips with mock offense as he puts his hand up to partially cover his mouth. “We only just met, do you think that’s polite?”
“Answer the question,” Grian sighs. How Pearl deals with this man on the regular, he doesn’t know.
“Well, if you insist.” Sausage sighs, somehow even more exaggerated than his previous movements. “It’s just… if you’ll believe it, it’s somehow even harder to answer the first question.”
“It shouldn’t be,” Grian says. “They’re two very different People, you know.”
“But they’re the same species, when it all comes down to it. Like, you might be very different than a chicken, but you’re both birds in the long run.”
Grian pauses, fanning his wings out a bit behind him as he considers. “I don’t think that metaphor’s quite landing the way you want it to.”
“No, me neither. Anyways, let me continue.
When they don’t pick you, things go a little differently! You don’t get sorted onto one side or the other since, well, you’re not really supposed to be there? So I’m… whatever I want to be, really. I think I’m feeling like more of a Listener, today, but we’ll see how the mood shifts.”
Grian flinches at the Name, on instinct. He doesn’t know how to feel about that, so he files it away to be dealt with at a later date. As for the rest of what Sausage said-
“What?”
“You heard me.” Sausage shrugs. He’s so nonchalant, Grian thinks he might strangle him, if not for the worry that that’s exactly what he wants out of this, somehow.
“Did I? Did I hear you?” Grian wants to pace, but that requires leaving the security of the corner, so he forces his feet to root themselves to the floor. “I thought- I thought you had to- if you wanted to change sides, I thought you had to-“
Grian closes one eye and takes his thumb to it, twisting the finger into his eyelid. The gesture seems to get the point across.
“Well, that’s the funny thing about this, actually.” From the way he’s been talking, Grian assumed Sausage thought this whole thing was funny. He restrains himself from saying that out loud if only so Sausage will finish his explanation.
Sausage reaches up to his left eye, pulls his eye lid back a bit, and unceremoniously pops out his prosthetic eye.
“All these processes and rituals actually have a lot of loopholes.”
Grian doesn’t know what face he’s making, but it’s enough to make Sausage giggle while he pops the eye back in. Because of course he does. Because this how his day is going, apparently. Walk through a weird portal in his basement and wake up in a world filled with his friends who don’t recognize him and also a guy he only ever saw There, who he was never supposed to see again. Sure. Of course he’s laughing about it. Grian thinks if he was a slightly different person, he’d be laughing too. It is, undeniably, absurd.
“Well, I think we’re done here then!” Grian would probably object if he weren’t so shocked about the loopholes. As it is, he just stands there a bit stupidly.
Sausage turns away to return to the party before turn around again for just a moment, reaching over, and ruffling Grian’s hair. That shocks him enough to shake him out of his stupor and swat Sausage’s hand away, though not before his hair is suitably messed up.
“What was that for?!”
Sausage smiles as he reaches up to rough up his own hair as well. “I assumed you didn’t want your friends asking questions about why you were dragging me into a dark corner, you know?” Sausage even goes far enough to pull his shirt a bit out of where it’s tucked into his pants, because of course he does. Grian tries not to cringe, but Sausage is right about this one thing. It is the easiest way to dodge any questions about where he’d gone off to- at the expense of the many knowing looks and teasing remarks he’ll be getting from the other Hermits instead.
“Have a good night, Grian!” Sausage calls over his shoulder as he turns to leave for real this time. “And remember, drinks are on me for all you guests tonight! You look like you need it.”
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crossbackpoke-check · 2 months
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it’s all the rest of what i want with you
connor dewar/brandon duhaime :: 8k
Summary:
“Brandon,” Connor says with a sigh. “There’s no baby in there.”
“Not yet,” Brandon says. Connor feels his stomach twist, almost like what he would imagine a baby kicking to feel like.
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in these trying times of dewvorce, may i offer you 8k of pwp inspired by @stillfertile’s wonderful art which i had. several breakdowns about 🫶 anyway please enjoy!!!
#OFFICIAL FIC ANNOUNCEMENT 🗣️🗣️🗣️‼️‼️‼️ i wish i had pretty fic graphics but alas i have No Skill and also. so much work i should be doing bu#HI SHE’S HERE i would love to say this is a complete surprise drop except i have Anxiety & i needed to ask you guys about it beforehand#in my defense i started writing this in like. january far before any tragedy occurred#because square asked about my tags on their dewey2 art and she spawned like. a million more thoughts about it#including the part where i got absolutely kicked in the face with the lightning vision of those two lines.#like those two lines are the first actual lines of the fic i wrote ajdhkwdiowdjiw ANYWAY please be nice to me i know i am always like#‘this is not the first real fic i ever thought i’d post’ and if i had a nickel i’d have three but this is the first pwp i’ve ever posted#and it’s 8k and it’s not a fic for an exchange (although technically i did very much write this for the dewey^2 hivemind so.)#i have SO many things to say i have so many comments on this doc also i couldn’t pick a title for the LONGEST time and i finally decided on#this one but the full quote was too long:#all the rest of what i want with you that scares me shitless#so. i was angling SO hard to make a yung gravy lyric as a title bc i saw the video of him at a wild game but i couldn’t find a good one#and instead y’all got a very sentimental title l m a o.#liv in the replies#shout out to the extended universe this lives in and also my unhinged comments in the docs.#if you liked fun fuck a baby in him friday i’ll be here all week i promise i am the exact same in the comments as i am in the tags 🫡#the NUMBER of times i wrote something in this by pulling it out of my ass and then actually went back and did the research & was RIGHT is.#far too high. also the amount of coincidental things that dropped while i was writing this (yung gravy song about pregnancy AFTER i wheeze#laughed myself into a yung gravy title the athletic player poll confirming my restaurant & bar choices from googling ‘st. paul good bars’…)#also if anybody got advice on formatting for these little announcements. help. this is different from my miro/luka one &i’m still not happy
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