#I wish I could draw just so I could show you guys how Ballister looks in my head
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madlad-sadgal · 1 year ago
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Goldenheart AU
Should I really start thinking up a whole other AU when I'm still trying to plan out one? No. Am I gonna do it anyways? Yes.
Quick note #1, this is a mix of Band AU and "Separated Childhood friends who meet again as adults (except one doesn't know it's their childhood friend)" AU.
Also a note at the end.
Nimona Spoilers (Maybe? Not sure, but I'll out a cut here just in case)
In this AU, there's no kingdom surrounded by big ass walls with canons, although I'm not sure if there are shapeshifters or not (Nimona's still there, I'm just not sure if they can shapeshift or not or if they're just this weird energetic teenager). What is there though is social classes.
The Queen, aka Valerin, is Ambrosius' mother and she runs a very successful company. Ambrosius is therefor part of the richer class which basically has access to anything.
Ballister Boldheart, on the other hand, although he isn't living on the streets, his family isn't doing the best when it comes to money and he does some easy jobs to try and gather money to help his parents.
The boys meet at the park one day. Ambrosius was out playing with some friends from school (Todd maybe with a few random OCs) when he saw the scrawny boy picking up trash, so he decided to approach him. Turns out the scrawny boy (Ballister) was picking up trash to help the park keeper who'd then pay him depending on the amount of trash he picked up
Ambrosius felt bad for him so he decided to help him and didn't leave until his mom's secretary and his nanny (The Director, who else) came to pick him up
The Director obviously saw the two interact and didn't think much of it, until Ambrosius starts asking for money from his mom to help his new friend, which she actively gives him and praises him for helping people in need, and then Ballister's coming to visit and now the two are inseparable
Now she obviously doesn't like that, but she brushes it off thinking that this'll pass when Ambrosius grows up and realizes that he's much better than that
But then something happens (you choose what, can be a death, something good with the company) and Ambrosius has to move away, so the two boys who have been friends for like six-seven are now separated and heart broken, and since Bal can't afford a phone they won't be able to keep in touch, and he outright refuses to let Ambrosius give him one, so now they're separated
Fast forward a few years, it is now Ambrosius' 21st birthday, and to celebrate, he's allowed to choose one band that Valerin will pay to show up, and he chooses the Shifters/The Shapeshifters/whatever else references the movie or comic
The Shifters are a small band that's pretty recent, but Ambrosius loves their songs, and he thinks the lead singer, who goes by Bal, is cute
The band shows up and Ambrosius is having the time of his life, even more so when two members of the band, Bal and Nimona, come to personally wish him a happy birthday
Obviously, he's just talked to his celebrity crush, so he fails to notice just how familiar Bal is, and he doesn't think he'll ever meet the man again
Bal, on the other hand, is well set on seeing Ambrosius again, because holy fuck that's his childhood friend, and he had to practically beg Nimona and the rest of the band (some OCs maybe) to come here just so he could see him
Ballister started this band in hopes that it would take off and he could make a living out of it to help his parents (for plot convenience, it works out or not, depends what direction you wanna go)
So, when Ballister sees Ambrosius again in a cafe, he strikes up a conversation and they end up talking for a long while and end up exchanging numbers
What isn't planned in the plan is for the Director to recognize Ballister and know how much of a crush Ambrosius has on him (despite him not knowing who he really is) and she doesn't like that because someone from higher class dating someone lower class like Ballister hell no
Then starts her plans to foil everything, Nimona being slightly annoyed at Ballister desperately trying to get back in contact with his friend, Ambrosius having a celebrity crush that surprisingly actually works out and Valerin being oblivious to all of this
Ambrosius looks pretty much just like he does in the movie when he's wearing his civilian clothes, except he has long hair with the under part shaved (Is there a name for that haircut?)
Valerin and the Director dress like business women instead of royals
Nimona has basically the same style, except add a bunch of colour: pins, dyed streaks of hair, bright bracelets, etc.
Ballister has a similar style to Nimona, and he dyed a streak of his hair pink (because I can)
That's all I got for now. If this catches anyone's eye, I'll make another part exploring why the Director dislikes the mix of classes so much and how she frames Ballister this time, or the next part can also be about how Bal and Ambrosius get closer.
Quick note #2, this doesn't have anything to do with this, but I'm starting to realize most of my ideas come when I'm doing the dishes, and as dumb as it is, it gives me motivation to do them, so I'm not complaining
Quick note #3, I'm thinking of doing and angsty one shot of that one scene where Ambrosius gets stabbed and it's actually him, except Ballister sings "You Are My Sunshine" to him as he dies because Ambrosius used to sing it to him before everything. Would anyone read it if I posted it?
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amerie-wadia · 4 years ago
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jj spends all the restitution money on a hot tub and misses his hearing. he doesn’t tell pope. 
a mayward one-shot that has been floating around my head since the first time I watched the show. i've read so many post-canon mayward fics (and they’re all great) but none of the ones i’ve read really address jj’s restitution money. i wanted this to be longer but i hate writing about legal stuff since i don’t understand it, so this is somewhat short. i don’t think i’m gonna make a part two, but i might write like an established relationship drabble in this same series/universe/canon. 
Pope knows it’s a bad idea to go to JJ’s house. He’s been there a handful of times before and usually Luke is off playing poker, working, or getting drunk at his favorite bar. This time is different, though. This time, it’s been two weeks since he’s heard from JJ and JJ has no idea Pope is coming. The last time Pope showed up out of the blue JJ was sending bullets through his childhood teddy bear.
When Pope parked his car in the driveway of beaten down grass and sand, it was like looking at still water. The only movement or sign of life surrounding the house was the soft sea breeze rippling through the branches and the tattered screens that no longer stuck to their frames. Pope hesitated before stepping out of the car.
Luke is a scary dude. Luke scares Pope more than anybody on the island and when he opens the front door, he looks pissed.
“The hell do you want?”
Pope figured it was obvious—that he had come for JJ—but Luke didn’t appear to be connecting any of the dots. Pope glanced over Luke’s shoulder, he had never seen the inside of JJ’s house. Dishes, dust balls, and bottles littered the living room where Pope could see. The smell was strong and Pope couldn’t tell what it was. It didn’t smell like weed, but it also didn’t smell like a cigarette. He figured it must be a mix of sweat, alcohol, and garbage. The only thing he could even compare it to was bile.
“Is JJ home?”
“No.” Short and stark. His eyes didn’t even blink and he looked ready to close the door so Pope quickly interjected, still keeping his distance.
“When will he be home?”
“He’s not.”
Which wasn’t even a full sentence and Pope couldn’t figure out what Luke meant by it.
“What?”
Luke rolled his eyes and sighed as if Pope was a nail under his foot.
“He’s not coming home, kid. So get out of here.”
“Why? Where is he?” Pope knew he shouldn’t push, especially with someone like Luke, but his answers were vague and peculiar and the last time Pope saw JJ was the night John B died. He needed to make sure JJ was okay.
“Wadesboro.”
Oh. Oh shit.
“What? Why?”
“Kid, I don’t have time for the interrogation. I have a business to run, so you get off my property before you make me mad.”
Pope thought Luke had been mad the whole time but now his fists were clenched and as much as Pope needed to keep asking, he knew the answers had already stopped coming.
“Thank you.”
“Get out of here.”
Luke had disappeared into the house by the time Pope was starting up the engine. Wadesboro? How the hell had JJ managed to get himself thrown in juvie in the two weeks since Pope had seen him? Not that JJ getting arrested shocked Pope, per se, but still it shocked him. Pope pulled out of the driveway and went fifteen over the speed limit until he got to Kie’s house.
“Kiara!” He called out as he padded his knuckles against her front door, ringing the bell enough times that his own father would give him a soft smack on the back of his head. “Kiara, open the door!”
He rang the bell two more times before the door opened and Kiara’s wide eyes met his own.
“What’s wrong?” she asked immediately, reaching out to tug him inside. Pope realized his hands were shaking a little bit when she wove her own through his.
“It’s JJ.”
“You finally heard from him?” She pulled him up the stairs and over to her bedroom. It was only the second time Pope had ever been in it and the lines were too straight, the floors too clean, and her shelves too neat for the room to feel like Kie’s.
“I went to his house,” he admitted and as Kie’s mouth opened wide to reprimand him, he continued. “He wasn’t home and his dad told me that he’s in Wadesboro.”
“Wadesboro?” Pope could tell she really didn’t understand because she still looked angry.
“Juvie.”
Her face dropped and she plopped down beside Pope.
“Why?”
“He wouldn’t tell me. What do we do?” Pope could feel the panic in his voice and Kie held onto his hand again and gave it a squeeze.
“We can use my dad’s lawyer. We can go visit him.”
“When can we visit him?”
“I don’t know. Here,” she said, opening up her phone to Google. “I’ll look up their visiting hours and we can go see him.”
“Do you think he’s scared?” Pope asked, because it felt wrong to ask if he was okay. He knew Kiara didn’t actually have a good answer for him. She just nodded and continued to type with her thumbs.
It calms Pope to watch her focused, watch her biting her lip. She finds the hours and tells Pope that next weekend they can go.
“That’s in four days away!” Pope exclaims, as if Kie doesn’t know and as if being upset could solve his problem. Usually, Pope is the one finding the solution but right now all he can think about is JJ sitting in a prison cell and an orange jumpsuit.
“Oh wait,” Kie interjects, softer and it worries Pope. “No, we can’t. He has to put us on a visitation list otherwise we can’t see him.”
“How do we contact him to put us on a visitation list if we can’t see him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Kie?”
“Yeah?” she asks, finally drawing her attention away from the phone and back to Pope. He feels himself near tears and he thinks she might be too. “Do you think this is my fault?”
“What? Of course, not,” she insists, her voice gentle and high and she squeezes his hand. “Why would you even think that?”
“I let him take the fall for me. What if he couldn’t pay back the restitutions and now he’s in jail because of me?”
“Juvie. He’s in juvie not prison.”
“it’s the same thing.”
“No, it’s not.”
“We have to help him.”
Her face softens again and she just nods, resting her head on his shoulder as if the idea how helping JJ has already exhausted her.
“We should talk to your dad’s lawyer, then.”
“Yeah?”
“Maybe he can get us on a visitation list, at least.”
———————————————————————
“Who are you?” JJ asks when somebody who is absolutely not his lawyer takes a seat on the other side of the table. There is nobody else there but JJ can see the guard’s shoulder through the little square window on the door. His right hand is cuffed to the table and he’s sweating through his clothes and even he can smell his own odor. The man sitting down beside him has a suit and gelled hair and wristwatch. He smiles slightly at JJ and it makes him squirm.
“My name is Gabe Walters. I am your friend Kiara Carrera’s father’s lawyer. They’re really worried about you, bud.”
Bud sounds weird. Bud makes JJ feel even more uncomfortable and he wishes he had something in his hands to fiddle with.
“I already have a lawyer.”
“You have a public defender, is that right?”
JJ nods because, to be honest, he doesn’t know if that’s what the first guy was called. The new lawyer sounds very confident when he says it, so JJ just goes along with it.
“The Carrera’s would like for me to represent you. I think I can get you out of here. Is that something you would like?”
The way he worded that comment was sneaky and JJ knows this guy already thinks he’s a loose cannon. Maybe he is a loose cannon. He doesn’t want a pity lawyer. He has no idea how Kiara even found out he was in. juvie.
“I already have a lawyer,” he says again, quieter, because he really doesn’t know what to do and the guard outside has turned around to glance inside the room and it’s distracting. JJ adjusts the way he sitting and kicks as his toes.
“I can’t force you to do anything. But I have a lot more time and more resources than the lawyer you have now. I know, Jim, he’s a good guy. But he has a pile of cases so high he can’t see the top.”
JJ shrugged, wanting to say yes but also knowing very well that he couldn’t. He didn’t have the money to pay the restitution let alone pay a fancy lawyer to get him out of juvie for not having enough money.
“I can’t afford it anyway,” he finally said after a minute of silence that he was dying to break.
“I don’t think you understood, son. You wouldn’t owe me any money. The Carrera’s want to cover the legal fees.”
Fuck no.
“No, that’s okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“They shouldn’t have to pay anything.”
The lawyer sighed and rested his hands on the table. He was looking too deeply into JJ’s eyes so JJ reverted his gaze down to his lap, all too aware of how grimy and tired he looked. It was pathetic.
“I know how important pride can be, especially when you’re in a place like this where they’ll try to strip you of every ounce of what you’ve got. I sat where you when I was seventeen. I had a shit lawyer and I ended up serving three years for stealing a bag of chips. I didn’t have anybody in my life offering me a hand. You don’t have to take it, I’ll leave right now if you ask. But I’d think all of this over before you make your decision.”
It was patronizing, but comforting. JJ looked up and the lawyer’s eyes were still glued to his own.
“You think you can get me out?” JJ asked softly. The lawyer nodded.
“I can’t make any promises, but I think there’s a very strong possibility I could get you home within the next two weeks.”
Home. JJ wanted nothing more in the world to go home. His bed, his pillow, clean underwear, pooping with the door closed.
“Okay, then.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes, sir.”
———————————————————————
Kie’s dad’s lawyer gets her and Pope on the waiting list for the following weekend and she offers to drive since Pope is a terrible driver when he is anxious. Plus, he always goes exactly the speed limit and it makes Kie go ballistic. She picks him up Saturday morning and they stop at McDonald’s on the way there for breakfast.
Normally, Kie has music queued up for long car rides. Today the drive is silent.
After around five hours, they pull up to the detention center. It’s cold and lifeless and wrapped in a snake of barbed wire fences. There are boys outside playing basketball and walking around a track. Kie looks over to Pope and he looks paralyzed.
“If you can’t go in, it’s okay,” she tries to reassure him. She knows how scared he is of the prison. How scared he is to see JJ. She reaches out for his hand.
“I can do it,” he says, voice quiet but determined. Kie just nods and turns off the engine.
It takes them a few minutes to find the correct entrance and then they go through security, sign in, and take a seat in the waiting room. The chairs are made of plastic and leave imprints on Kie’s thighs but she can feel how close they are to JJ. There are a few other people in the waiting room, one looks like a lawyer, there is a set of grandparents, and a woman who is likely somebody’s mother. She’s crying and it makes Kie’s stomach churn. The two guards standing by the door are chatting, laughing. While the woman cries.
“Alright, this way,” a guard finally instructs the two of them down a hall. Kie can see windows beginning to line the wall ahead. It’s the visitation room. Her heartbeat increases and Pope squeezes her hand. “Only thirty seconds of touching, you cannot give him anything, and we have the right to escort you out immediately should the situation escalate.”
Kie isn’t paying attention to what the guard is saying because as he opens up the door to the room she spots a blond head of hair.
“JJ!” Pope cries, both of them dashing toward where JJ is sitting. He stands, turning to look at them, and they both stop in their tracks. He has a dark bruise lining his neck like a noose and his eye is purple. The smell is putrid. He doesn’t move, just blinks as he takes them in. A huge grin grows over his face and Pope throws himself at JJ.
Pope takes all thirty seconds so Kie just gives him the best smile she can muster up and takes a seat beside Pope. JJ won’t stop smiling and Kie wants to smile back, she really does, but he looks to terrible and Pope’s hands are shaking and there are way too many other people in the room.
“Are you okay, dude?” Pope speaks first, voice warm and grounding and it brings Kie out of her head and into the moment.
“Never been better,” JJ lies, giving them a shrug and his smile drops for a moment. She sees the exhaustion and hurt in his eyes before he brings the smile back, even if it’s just for a second it was there. “I mean, it could be a lot worse.”
“How long have you been here?” Kie asks. JJ doesn’t meet her eyes, just looks down at his hands and then up at Pope.
“Only a week.”
“What the hell happened?” she asks when he doesn’t elaborate.
“Missed my hearing. Forfeited my plea deal when I bought that stupid hot tub.”
Kie’s eyes are welling up by how cold his voice sounds. He’s still smiling but his eyes are hollow.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Pope asks, so delicately that Kie almost didn’t even hear it. “Do they let you use the phone.”
“It costs money to call somebody in a prison.”
“JJ,” Kie melts, feeling a tear roll down her cheek but she tries to wipe it away before anybody noticed. She knew she couldn’t get too emotional right now. She needed to focus on JJ right now.
“Call us tomorrow, yeah?” Pope asks, but it doesn’t sound like a question.
“There won’t be much new to talk about.”
“We’ve missed you.”
Kie nods her head in agreement, not trusting her own voice quite yet. JJ keeps his stupid fake smile on his face and scratches at the back of his neck. Involuntarily, he reminds them both of the bruising around his neck.
“How long are you going to be in here?” Pope asks.
“At least until my next hearing. Maybe longer.”
“When is the hearing? We’ll come,” Kie offered, her voice shaky but she tries to steady it.
“It’s two weeks from tomorrow,” JJ comments and Kie pictures him sitting in a cell and counting down the days. “And thanks, but since I’m under eighteen you actually can’t come.”
Pope lets out a trembling breath and Kie knows how hard he’s fighting not to break down. JJ still sounds and looks lifeless, hiding behind his smile.
There’s yelling from across the room and the guards are rushing over to break it up. They announce that visiting hours are over because of the fight and JJ loses his fake smile. The guards step closer to escort Pope and Kiara out but before they arrive JJ grabs a hold of Pope and tucks his head against his shoulder. Pope holds onto him for a moment—even kisses his forehead, which makes Kie really want to cry because Pope is the kindest person she knows—and then the guards pull them apart. They’re too aggressive with both of them and Kie wants to yell but she’s afraid and so she holds onto Pope and tells him that it’s going to be okay.
A guard manhandles JJ out of the room, his grip hard and frank, but JJ doesn’t look to put up a fight. He smiles to Pope and Kie. She can’t tell if it’s genuine but she gives him a small smile back until he’s being led out the door and Pope and herself out another. The visit was supposed to be a lot longer. Kie still has so much she wanted to ask.
The second they get in the car, Pope starts to cry. Kie shoves down her own desire to let it out and pulls Pope into a hug. His grip on her is tight and she buries her face against his chest as it bounces up and down to the rhythm of his cries.
———————————————————————
JJ calls Pope every day. He waits in line for usually about an hour or two until one of the phones is free and dials up Pope’s number—another guy had to teach him out to use the payphone, but it wasn’t that once he figured it out. Pope picks up after two rings every time. They talk until the guard tells JJ his time is up.
“How did the date go?” JJ asks since the day before Pope told JJ that he and Kiara were having a date night.
“It was nice.”
“High praise,” JJ jokes, and it feels so good to be light-hearted for a moment, to hear Pope chuckle through the phone. JJ feels hot eyes on his back from other guys waiting to use the phone but he curls toward the wall and clutches the phone close to his ear.
“Things are awkward between us. Like, we both care a lot about each other…” Pope trails off and JJ would let him finish but they don’t have an unlimited number of minutes.
“But?”
“But sometimes I wonder if us being together is actually a good idea.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Like, I care about her obviously. And we like spending time together but when it comes to the romantic stuff, it just feels weird.”
“She’s a bad kisser?”
“No! No. But, I mean, I don’t feel much emotionally when she kisses me.”
“But you feel it physically?” JJ laughs and he can feel Pope rolling his eyes.
“I’m being serious, JJ. I think we might break up.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not going to affect the Pogues though. I mean, we’ve talked about it actually, what we would do if we broke up.”
“You know, talking about how you would handle a breakup in the first three weeks of dating usually isn’t a good sign,” JJ comments.
“You’re telling me. Have you heard any more from your lawyer about the hearing?”
“Nope.”
“Are you ready?”
“It’s not like I’m the one who actually has to do anything.”
“I’m ready for you to get out of there.”
“Me too.”
The guard tells JJ the time is up and Pope tells JJ he loves him. JJ says it back. It’s just something they do now.
JJ likes it a lot more than he would ever admit. He thinks about it when he sits back down on his bed. His roommate is reading a book, not angry right now like he usually is, and JJ lays down and stares at the cinderblock wall, thinking about Pope and Kie having to break up. Thinking about his hearing. Thinking about Pope. Thinking about his dad. Thinking about how he has to go to the bathroom but isn’t in the mood. Thinking about going home.
———————————————————————
Pope and Kie wait outside the courtroom, Heyward sitting them beside and Mr. Carrera. Pope has told his dad the day before that he was going to go to JJ’s hearing and just sit outside, in case they released JJ on the spot. Heyward had done a double take and then immediately picked up the phone. Pope had thought his dad was ignoring him and was annoyed until five minutes later he popped his head in Pope’s doorway and told him he got his work shift covered and he would come too.
Mr. C and Heyward talked about fishing quietly, blissfully unaware that Pope and Kie had broken up the night before. It had been a loving breakup—if you can call a breakup loving. Kie had agreed it would be for the best. She said she never wanted to lose their friendship and Pope had been eternally grateful for how amazing of a person his best friend was. He reached out for her hand about halfway through the hearing as he started to get lost in his worries. She gave it a squeeze.
The doors open and Mr. and Mrs. Thornton spilled out first. They were both standing too straight and it made Pope uncomfortable but they walked out with their lawyer and then JJ’s lawyer made his way through the doorway. Then Luke. Then JJ.
Pope felt like he had just lost one hundred pounds.
“You’re out!” Kie cried excitedly. JJ flashes her a big smile and this time it looked genuine. Luke said something to the lawyer and then reached out for JJ’s arm. The flinch was tiny, but Pope noticed it.
“JJ, it’s good to see you,” Heyward started, but Luke gave him a wild look and then tugged JJ.
“You can talk to your friends later. We need to have a chat.”
Mr. Carrera took a step in front of them to block the path to the exit.
“Our kids have been waiting here for two hours and would appreciate a moment to say hello.”
Kie’s dad had balls. Luke didn’t seem to care.
“I’d appreciate it if you took a step back.”
His words were vicious and JJ started down at his feet. JJ’s entire body was tense and he was biting down on his lip and Pope had never in his life seen JJ looked so scared. Pope’s chest hurt and he squeezed Kie’s hand.
“Take a step back. And don’t you talk to me about my boy again.” He turned to JJ. “Outside, now.”
Mr. C took a step to the side and Luke pulled JJ out of the courthouse.
“You know,” the lawyer said quietly to Mr. C—but Pope was good at eavesdropping and listened. “I know a good Children and Youth Services lawyer. If that’s necessary.”
Pope’s blood boiled when Mr. C just nodded and shrugged. What can ya do? There was a lot they could fucking do. Heyward lead Pope and Kiara out of the courthouse while Mr. Carrera talked a little bit more to the lawyer.
At least JJ wasn’t in juvie anymore.
“Have either of you ever met JJ’s dad?” Heyward asked as they walked outside. Kie shook her head but Pope nodded. “When?”
“About a week ago.”
“I don’t want you ever going near that man again, got it?”
Pope got it. Kie nodded too, even though Heyward had no control of her here.
“If you ever JJ say something that sounds off about it, I want you to let me know.”
It was too late for that, and Pope wasn’t sure if he even could tell his dad what he knew about Luke. What he figured was about to happen. It made him feel sick. But he agreed and so did Kiara.
“What an ass,” came Mr. Carrera’s voice as he approached the three. “Excuse my language, honey.”
Kie looked over to Pope as if to silently ask what they could do to help JJ. Pope shrugged.
“We drive all this way, provide him with a lawyer that actually gets his kid out of juvie, and he can’t even let the kids say hello?”
Heyward was mad, but Mr. Carrera seemed genuinely shocked. He must not have heard the rumors about Luke Maybank before.
———————————————————————
“How did the hearing go, baby?” Pope’s mom asks when they arrive home.
“He’s out of juvie.”
“Isn’t that wonderful. Maybe we can have him over for dinner one night this week to celebrate.” It’s the first time either one of his parents have ever asked Pope to invite JJ to their house. Heyward sighs behind Pope as he places the key ring on a hook and comes into the kitchen to start up the electric kettle.
“Pope why don’t you go and lay your suit across my bed. I can put it away for you,” his mom instructs. He knows that they just want him to leave the room so they can talk about JJ and his father. Pope wants to leave before they start asking him questions he’s not allowed to answer, so he grabs a cheese-stick from the fridge and makes his way to his bedroom.
He has two unread messages from Kie but he’s not really in the mood to answer them. He changes his clothes and places the suit on the bed like he was told. He opens up his phone and sends a text to JJ, asking him how he’s doing and when they can hang out. He doesn’t expect a response back tonight, but he hopes that he’ll get one anyway. He’s used to talking to JJ every day.
Pope waits until his mom calls him back into the kitchen for dinner. They don’t talk much about the hearing or JJ or JJ’s father during dinner. Pope finishes quickly, thanks them, cleans his dishes, and heads to bed. He’s wiped out from the day and he has to get up early to tutor a freshman in geometry the next morning, so he’s ready to get in bed and go to sleep by ten.
He comes very close to falling asleep when he hears a clinking sound. Then another. And another. It’s coming from his window. Kiara can’t throw for shit, so his mind goes straight to JJ and he’s rushing over to the window to pull the blinds up. Sure enough, JJ is standing in his backyard, throwing pebbles at Pope’s first floor bedroom window.
“Be careful, you could break a window,” Pope says as he slides the window up high enough for JJ to crawl through.
JJ’s not crying and he’s not covered in blood, which Pope takes as a good sign. As he stumbles to his feet, Pope sees the bruises peaking below the hem of his shirt. JJ tugs it down into place.
“Are you okay?” Pope asks because what else is there to say.
“Fine. I just couldn’t stay in that house any longer.”
JJ’s words are practiced and Pope knows they’re a façade, but Pope also knows this is not the time for an argument.
“Are you gonna stay for the night?”
“If that’s cool?”
“It’s good, I just need to go get the air mattress.”
“No!” JJ cries and reaches his hand out as if to pull Pope back. “I don’t want to wake your parents.”
“They’re asleep, they won’t hear.”
“Please, Pope.”
Pope isn’t sure if he has ever heard JJ say please in his life so he respects his wishes. Pope has a twin bed, so he’ll just sleep on the floor and let JJ take the bed.
“Do you want to shower or have something to eat?” Pope asks, trying not to sound too gentle because he doesn’t want to embarrass JJ. JJ’s eyes fall and he shrugs. Pope takes it as a yes.
“I’ll get you some food, the bathroom is just down the hall. Don’t turn the handle too far left or the water will burn you.”
JJ doesn’t say anything but Pope hands him a clean towel and heads into the kitchen to heat up some of the leftover mac and cheese. Pope wonders how much JJ ate in juvie. How much JJ eats at home.
He can hear his parents faintly arguing in their bedroom from the kitchen and tries to block it out but he hears JJ’s name and instantly panics.
“You think DCS doesn’t know about his father? Do you know how many times I dropped Pope off to elementary school and that little boy was bruised or bleeding? We have nothing to report that they don’t already know.”
“You should’ve heard the way he spoke today. The way he scared that kid.”
“I believe you, baby.”
“We have to do something.”
“We’ll have the boy over for dinner. As many dinners as he wants.”
It wasn’t really a fight, just louder than usual. The microwave buzzed and Pope removed the plate and fished a spoon out of the drawer for JJ. He took them back into his room even though he technically wasn’t allowed to have food in his room. And technically he wasn’t—JJ was. There was no rule that JJ couldn’t eat in his room.
And after the conversation he had overheard, Pope didn’t think his parents would actually be upset if they found out.
JJ walked back into the bedroom shortly after Pope. He was wearing the same clothes from earlier but his hair was wet so Pope figured he must’ve showered. Pope ushered to the mac and cheese sitting on his desk and JJ took a seat.
“It’s not as good in the microwave, but it would’ve taken forever to turn on the oven.”
“It’s perfect,” JJ hummed, shoving heaping spoonfuls of pasta into his mouth until he started to cough. Pope, unthinkingly, reached out to put a hand on JJ’s back and it caused JJ to jump out of his seat and he fell on his butt beside the desk. Wide-eyed and quick-breathed, JJ scooted further against the wall until it hit his back.
Pope took a step back and held his hand to his chest.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t think.”
“I’m fine you just uh startled me,” JJ said, trying to sound nonchalant but his voice cracked and his eyes were still big.
“JJ.”
JJ swallowed and Pope noticed the spit up pieces of mac and cheese on the carpet. They would probably stain. JJ’s eyes had gone wet and Pope hesitantly stood before him. He held his hands up so JJ could see where they were. That they weren’t reaching out to hurt him. With his eyes locked onto JJ’s, he reached out a hand to help JJ up.
“I’m sorry,” JJ whispered, taking Pope’s outstretched hand and helping tug himself up. JJ looked to the floor where the mac and cheese had sprinkled. “Shit.”
“Don’t worry about that. Just eat slowly, okay? We have more if you’re still hungry.”
JJ nods and takes a seat in Pope’s desk chair, taking a significantly smaller bite of mac and cheese. If it wasn’t so hearting breaking it might be funny how the moment he begins chewing a tear falls down his cheek. But it is heart breaking and Pope doesn’t know what to do because he’s not good with words and he can’t touch JJ. He sits at the edge of his bed so they’re close, but he doesn’t touch. JJ doesn’t wipe his tears away, and he eats slowly just like Pope suggested.
He finishes what’s left on the plate and tries to steady his breathing but his chest is rising and falling rapidly and Pope notices the way JJ is fiddled his thumbs around the hem of his shirt.
“You take the bed,” Pope says, standing up and taking a few steps back so that he’s not in JJ’s space.
“That’s stupid,” JJ whispers.
“It’s not stupid at all.”
JJ looks up at him and Pope realizes he hasn’t actually stopped crying yet. Pope motions his arm toward the bed even though he wants to reach out and pull JJ into a hug. But he can’t. JJ stands and climbs into the bed. He lays above the covers so Pope grabs a fuzzy blanket from the upper shelf of his closet and sets it at the foot of the bed.
“If you need it,” he says. JJ pats the space beside him softly and Pope freezes.
“Please?”
His voice is barely there and there are still tears running down his cheeks and Pope is in absolutely no position to say no to JJ right now.
Pope slides into the bed, laying down on his side and sticking his hands under his head so that they’re face to face. JJ blinks, tears fall, and he reaches his hand out to the middle of the space between them with his palm facing up. Pope isn’t sure if it’s what JJ wants, but he pulls his hand out from under his head and places it on top of JJ’s. JJ grips his hand instantly and Pope feels relief wash over him.
“Are you okay?” Pope asks again, wondering if maybe in the dark JJ will have a different answer than he had before.
“No.”
“Can I hold you?”
Pope is surprised he even asked the question and wants to take it back the moment he opens his mouth. It sounds so stupid and JJ gives him a confused look and Pope feels like an idiot.
But then JJ mumbles, “Yeah,” and Pope doesn’t feel like an idiot anymore.
He reaches his free hand out above them and JJ burrows into the space between Pope’s chest and his arms and Pope wraps his arm down across JJ’s back. JJ’s tears are wet against his shirt and they seep through his skin. It’s sticky.
“I’m so glad you’re home,” Pope says, wanting to see JJ smile. JJ doesn’t smile though, only chokes on his breath. “JJ?”
“I didn’t mean to,” he whispers. It’s hard to hear him before JJ is speaking into Pope’s chest but he manages to decipher the message. “I never mean to do it.”
“It’s not your fault.” JJ doesn’t seem to hear and continues mumbling into Pope’s shirt.
“I didn’t mean to do forget the hearing or spend all the restitution money. I didn’t mean to.”
Pope’s heart is crumbling like rubble to ash and he can’t seem to hold JJ any tighter so he uses one of his hands to run circles around his back because it always calms Pope when his mother does it to him.
“It’s not your fault.”
“I didn’t mean to get John B killed or break up you and Kie.”
“You didn’t get JB killed, man,” Pope says, even though it feels weird to call JJ man when he’s holding him so gently. “And Kie and I didn’t break up because of you.”
JJ shakes his head and continues rambling as his cries begin manifesting into sobs.
“I didn’t mean to make Mom leave.”
Pope thinks JJ might be too far gone to realize what he’s saying at this point.
“I know,” Pope says, running his hand through JJ’s hair and then brings it to his back again to run his fingertips around. “It’s alright.”
JJ shakes his head again but he’s finished talking—unable to get anything else now that he is sobbing. His fingers are twisting Pope’s shirt and he can feel his nails lightly throw the fabric across his chest. It doesn’t hurt, but it reminds Pope that JJ isn’t just sad but angry too. That JJ isn’t just soft but has sharp edges and steep slopes.
“It’s alright,” Pope says again, brushing through JJ’s hair and across the skin of his arms as he tries to sooth him. JJ clings to him.
The sobs eventually die down and JJ’s hand loses its grip on Pope’s shirt. Pope can hear snores escaping his lungs and feels relieved that he’s fallen asleep. Pope holds him just as tight, taking the blanket from the end of the bed and uses his foot to pull it closer. He wraps it around them both—giving the vast majority of the blanket to JJ. He brushes the hair out of JJ’s eyes and tries to keep his fingers as far from the purple and blue skin as he can.
In his sleep, JJ curls closer to Pope.
Since JJ is asleep and Pope wants to scream but cannot, he chooses instead to press a kiss to JJ’s forehead. It’s all he can think to do. It’s not enough.
———————————————————————
tagging: @kikifromtheblock (if anybody would like to be added to a mayward taglist, feel free to lmk!)
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mizmahlia · 6 years ago
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Talia brought Jason back, but he abandons his plan to kill Bruce.
Talia doesn’t like to be told ‘no’.
Ooooh, boy. This one is definitely AU.
After ten days of recon work, Jason stood outside a small, but comfortable safe house in the middle of Monte Carlo. Talia was likely up in her bedroom at this hour; her private plane arrived at the airport about two hours prior and her driver took every precaution to make sure they weren’t being followed. Not that it mattered to Jason. Few people could spot him following, let alone actually lose him.
Based on his intel, Talia had a run-in with her father the day before on the island of Crete. Ra’s discovered Talia’s efforts to help Jason escape their compound that night so long ago, and he tortured information out of one of Talia’s bodyguards about where she was headed next. Apparently, no one escaped the wrath of the Demon- not even his own daughter.
Her security detail hadn’t had time to properly lock down the compound, and it took much less effort than it should have to get in undetected. He made his way through the house, sticking to the shadows and avoiding her guards, and crept up the stairs to her bedroom suite, stopping just outside her door. True to form, there was music playing- Brahms, by the sound of it- and he could smell the incense she burned whenever she was stressed.
He turned the handle and opened it, striding quietly into the room and stopping ten feet behind her, not bothering to draw a weapon. She was standing in front of a full-length mirror, a small desk lamp shining directly on a laceration along her left side. Smudges of blood marked her dark skin and she paused her sutures long enough to look at him in the mirror.
“Being punished for your insolence, I see,” Jason quipped. He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head, taking several steps closer. “I hope it was worth it.”
Her brown eyes narrowed, anger at his intrusion glinting in the low light, before she resumed the neat line of stitches. Her nimble fingers made quick work and she would barely have a scar by the time it healed. Bruce would have been impressed by her skill.
“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she answered, setting the needle and leftover thread aside. Jason watched as she taped a small gauze pad over the wound and smoothed her silk top down over it. “My father may still be the Head of the Demon, but he’s not as quick as he once was.”
She turned and put her hands on her hips, her critical gaze coming to rest on his torso.
“You wouldn’t have needed the guns or the blades,” she said. “My guards know not to lay a hand on you.”
Jason shrugged and gave her the once over as well, noting her swollen bottom lip, the red mark on her cheek and the hand print bruise on her throat. Either Ra’s fared far worse and needed a trip to the spa, or he went easy on her and allowed her to walk away. Either way, Jason didn’t care.
“That last guy you had me meet with. The German one? He’s dead. And I’m done with your “lessons”.”
To her credit, Talia didn’t flinch or react at all. Her only tell was a subtle flare of her nostrils when she was angry.
And she was definitely angry at the moment.
“You should seriously consider not killing everyone you come into contact with,” she said. Her voice was sweet as honey, but carried an ominous tone most people didn’t survive to talk about. “It’s hard on my reputation.”
Jason made a show of glancing around the room, noting the knock-off designer bedding, the fake carpet beneath his feet, and the lack of ballistic glass in her windows. She really was laying low.
“Perhaps you should consider not associating with pedophiles, drug traffickers and murderers,” he replied. “I don’t care who they work for. They deserved what they got.”
Talia said nothing, but moved toward the bed where an unopened leather satchel sat on the end of the bed. She reached in and pulled out a folder, tossing it toward the desk to Jason’s right.
“Will he deserve what he gets?” she asked.
He slid the envelope toward him and emptied the contents onto the desk. They were eight by ten photographs of Batman, with Gotham City in the background. But Batman wasn’t alone in the photos; there was someone else present. Someone else wearing a red, yellow and green uniform. And that someone was definitely not Dick Grayson.
Jason smiled.
“Sorry, Talia. I already knew about the new guy. You forget I grew up in Gotham and still know people, the kind of people who are happy to provide information for a few bucks so they can eat.”
Talia was facing the window, hands resting on the sill. Her knuckles went white at Jason’s non-reaction to the photographs. Jason grinned, his smile dark and cocky.
“Oh, you thought you still had something over me,” he said, taking a few steps forward. “You thought you’d dangle this carrot in front of me and I’d take off to Gotham to try and take the revenge you don’t have the nerve to take yourself.”
In her reflection, her face hardened. But she didn’t turn around, so he continued.
“This isn’t how you earn my respect, Talia.”
She remained silent for a few moments and when she spoke again, she spoke so softly Jason almost didn’t hear her.
“You should be grateful, Jason. Everything you are is because of me. You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for my generosity.”
Rage bubbled up in Jason’s chest, coloring the edges of his vision a bright green. He pushed it down until he could speak clearly.
“That’s true,” he said. “The man I am is partially because of you. The things I’ve done. The monster I’ve become. That’s all on you. Well, you and the Pit, anyway.”
He turned to leave, stopping in the doorway.
“I won’t do your dirty work for you. If you want Bruce dead? You’ll have to do it yourself. I’m over his bullshit. Whatever life I have, I’m living it on my own terms. And I’ll live it for me.”
Talia spun on her heel, anger and betrayal in her eyes.
“You’ve learned nothing, you insolent child. You’ll regret this.”
Jason shook his head and smiled, though it disappeared a moment later. When he looked up at her again, her blood ran cold and she fought the chill that ran up her spine. Before closing the door behind him, he made one last threat.
“You shouldn’t have brought me back, Talia. But if you even think of coming to Gotham, you’ll wish you’d killed me when you had the chance.”
The door didn’t make a sound when it closed behind him. Talia laid a hand against her chest, trying to calm her heart pounding in her chest.
What had she done?
Mortal Kombat Sentence Starters
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mint-yooxgi · 6 years ago
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[5] - Belonging - Wolf!Junmyeon X Reader
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Wolf AU - Part of the EXO Trails of Moonlight Series
Genre: Fluff, Angst, Mature
Pairing: Junmyeon X Reader
Words: 2,570
A/n: Yay! Small update for you guys! I hope you enjoy this chapter, as it contains key plot information in order to really start the ball rolling for this series. If you have any questions, feel free to ask! As always, feedback is much appreciated! Enjoy!
Previous ~ Next
An involuntary growl escapes Junmyeon’s lips as he learns you’re being hunted.
“Is there anything I can do?” He asks, hands digging into the dirt beneath him in anticipation. There’s no questioning his need to protect you has skyrocketed.
“I wish there was,” you sigh, looking down at the edge of the pool.
“What-“ he pauses, his wolf clawing at him to ask the question on the tip of his tongue, “what happened?”
“My aunt took me on a run when I was still learning to control the shift, but we had no idea we were being tracked by hunters,” you begin, your eyes glazing over as you recall the story. “Apparently they had been tracking us for weeks, just waiting for their opportunity to strike. They were after my uncle, being the alpha and all…” you trail off, briefly glancing over to Junmyeon out of the corner of your eye. 
“The quickest way to flush out and kill a pack is taking down the alpha, or alphas,” he nods in understanding, brows furrowing as he hears you continue.
“Well, they couldn’t get to my uncle in time, so they settled for the next best thing,” a shiver runs down your spine. “His mate.”
A snarl rips past his lips before he can stop himself, “those bastards.”
Attacking a wolf’s mate is one of the highest forms of violence a hunter can perform on a wolf. Not only does it guarantee hurting one wolf, but the other has to suffer through the pain of the loss for the rest of their life. That is, if the hunters don’t get to them first.
“I was being careless, running aimlessly trough the woods, too far ahead of my aunt. I couldn’t help it, I finally felt free, like I was in control of the shift for once. I was so happy,” you start to close in on yourself, your voice getting rougher the more you continue. “I couldn’t sense them at the time, but my aunt did.”
At this point, Junmyeon shifts even closer to you, pulling you into his arms, conforming you in anyway he can. If there’s one thing he can’t stand, is seeing someone he cares for in pain.
“They came out of nowhere,” you let out a shaky breath. “My aunt, she pushed me out of the way in time, but they got to her. I tried to help, but I was so scared. I was too weak.”
“No-“
“I didn’t know what else to do, so I called for the rest of the pack,” you recount. “How could I have been so stupid?”
“You did what you thought was best,” he reassures you, rubbing your back gently with his hand.
“As soon as I howled, they managed to capture us, holding us hostage as the rest of the pack came running to us,” You continue. “They’d tied me down, but my aunt, they’d hurt her badly, so they didn’t need to tie her down as much as they did me. My uncle led the pack in, and he was just in time to see the state my aunt was in. He went ballistic, his instincts taking over his rational thought.”
You don’t even need to explain the details, because he knows exactly what you mean. If a wolf senses their mate is in danger, let alone sees their mate injured or being harmed in any way, they go ballistic. Junmyeon knows that he’d probably react the same way your uncle did if he was in that situation with you.
“They made sure that he watched when they-“ you choke on your breath as the first of the tears make their way down your face, “they killed her.” His arms tighten around your figure. “I don’t know how we managed to get away, but we did. My uncle has never been the same since, but he’s never once blamed me for what happened. Although, my pack does. That’s why they hate me so much. Ever since I came to join them, I’ve brought them nothing but bad luck and grief.”
“That’s not true and you know it,” he voices, comforting you in whatever way he can. His wolf whimpers in his chest seeing you in the state you’re in, and hearing you say these things about yourself.
“Yisung resents me. All of them blame me for my aunt’s death, and for the hunters that are still tracking us to this day,” you sob. “It would have been easier for everyone if it was me they killed instead of my aunt.”
“Don’t say that,” a whine escapes his throat. “You don’t mean that.”
“I’m sorry,” your voice quavers.
“No, no, don’t apologize,” he comforts you. “I’m the one that’s sorry. Sorry I wasn’t there to help you, to protect you. You are worth everything, and more, and it sounds to me your uncle knows this too. Hunters are ruthless, their actions are not your fault, you couldn’t have known they would do that once your pack got there. Please don’t say that about yourself, you’re worth so much more than you’ll ever know.”
You simply bury your head in his neck, doing your best to quiet your sobs as he softly calms you down. After a few minutes pass, you’re able to calm your breathing and quiet your sobs, wiping the final tears from your eyes. 
You manage to avoid his eyes, embarrassed you let him see you like this. Especially after knowing him for such a short amount of time. However, you believe it’s the effects of the mate bond influencing the both of you, for in the next moment, you feel his hand gently cup your chin and tilt your head up to look up at him.
“Please don’t think that what happened is your fault, for it’s not,” he says, eyes filled with sorrow. “If it ever gets too much, I don’t care what time it is, you come and find me. You’ll always have a place with me.”
“Junmyeon,” you whisper his name, your wolf cooing at his words. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you,” he frowns.
“No, no, it’s not your fault,” you stare into his eyes, a tight lipped smile pulling at your lips before letting out a nervous chuckle. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that, I swear I’m not some sissy that’s always crying all the time.”
“It’s okay to show your emotions to me, (Y/n), I don’t mind,” the corner of his lip twitches up slightly in reassurance. “I know the truth anyways.”
“The truth?” Now it’s your turn to furrow your brow.
“Yeah,” he smiles fully. “I have the strongest, most beautiful mate in the world.”
At this, your heart skips a beat, a shy grin tugging at your lips as you avoid eye contact with him, “really?”
Your eyes flick back to his once you feel his hand that was previously gripping your chin move to cup your cheek.
“Yeah,” he breathes, softly stroking his thumb against your skin, eyes staring deeply into yours.
You can feel your wolf urging you to close the distance between the two of you, to just lean forwards, take that little leap, and kiss him. You can tell he’s having the same internal battle, but he holds himself back, leaving it up to you to set the pace.
You slowly start to lean in, him mirroring your movements as soon as he feels you drawing nearer.
As soon as he feels your lips on his, his wolf is letting out a purr of content. Your lips feel so soft against his, like they were made for him, a fact which only causes his chest to rumble in contentment. His wolf howls as he hears you do the same.
All too soon, he feels you pulling away from him. He watches your face carefully, your eyes still closed in bliss until they’re fluttering open to look at him once more.
“I’m sorry,” he breaths, hoping he’s not overstepping his boundaries already.
“It seems we’re both doing a lot of apologizing tonight,” you joke, a soft blush coming to rest on your cheeks.
“It would seem so,” a soft smile pulls at his features as he continues to look at you, his hand now resting on top of yours between the two of you.
The rest of the evening is spent with his one arm around your waist as the two of you lean back to gaze at the stars. The mood now shifts to one of peace and tranquillity, a stark contrast to the somber one only moments before. You lean into his side as the two fo you continue to talk about anything and everything, but mainly focussing on the pack dynamics of your own packs between the two of you.
Just as Junmyeon is in the middle of telling you a story about how Jongdae and Baekhyun convinced Chanyeol that shooting stars were fallen wolves flying through space when they were younger, he hears you let out a soft snore. Looking down at your figure, he sees you’ve fallen asleep with your head on his chest. His wolf coos in content.
Using his other hand, he gently strokes the side of your cheek, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Ever so slowly, he leans down to place a soft kiss to the top of your head.
Clearly, you are not expecting that, for in the next moment, your eyelids are fluttering open to look at him in confusion. His eyes widen as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t have, but your calming gaze has him relaxing soon afterwards.
“Thank you,” you begin, “for tonight.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” he replies, his eyes holding so much sincerity, your wolf can’t help but coo in fondness at him.
“Not just that, but for listening to me, and not running off after I told you what has happened to my pack and I,” you say, meaning every word.
“I would be an idiot if I let you go over a reason like that,” he chuckles slightly. “I know things are a bit confusing at the moment, not to mention difficult, but you don’t have to stay with your pack if you don’t want to. Like I said, you’ll always have a place with me.”
“Junmyeon,” his name is no more than a whisper as you bring your hand up to cup his cheek. He feels himself leaning into your touch, eyes closing briefly in content as he feels your skin against his own. “That means more to me than you’ll ever know.”
“I just want you to be happy,” he tells you, bringing his hand up to cover yours, and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“Look at us, already acting like an old married couple,” you giggle, and he swears it’s the most melodic sound he’s ever heard.
“I’d take it as a good sign that we get along so well already,” he grins back. He leaves out the fact that you’re perfect for each other. But judging from your hum in response, you’re thinking the same thing.
A few minutes pass by in silence until you’re moving to sit up from his hold, both your wolves whining at the loss of contact between each other.
“I should get back soon, just in case my uncle wakes up in the middle of the night. Last thing I need is a confrontation,” you joke.
“When can I see you again?” He asks you, hope shining in his eyes.
“I’m busy tomorrow night, but the night after that we can meet back here again,” you quirk a brow at him.
“Okay!” He agrees immediately, all but a bit too enthusiastically.
You giggle as a soft blush begins to rise up his neck.
“I mean,” he clears his throat, “Sounds good to me.”
In the next moment, he helps you up from the ground, standing in front of you with his hands in yours.
“I’ll see you in a few days,” you squeeze his hands slightly, gazing softly at him as he does the same to you.
“I can’t wait,” he grins.
Just as you go to turn away from him, you feel him tug your hands, turning you back around as he pulls you into his chest. His lips are on yours once again within the next moment, your eyes closing is bliss as you feel your mate pressed up against you.
The kiss is soft, letting you know how much he’s going to miss you over the next few days until he can see you again. He can tell you’re enjoying it just as much as he is.
All too soon, you’re pulling away from him in order to gaze into his eyes with your own, a look of fondness in them that sets his heart racing.
“I’ll see you soon,” with a final smile, you’re pulling away from him to disappear into the forest, just like you did the previous night.
“Until next time,” he whispers, but he knows you’ve still heard him.
With a smile on his face, and a small skip to his step, he begins making his way back to the pack house. Humming to himself, he decides to walk the full way back, thinking over the entire night he’s just had with you.
He couldn’t be happier that you’ve opened up to him like this, but it pains him to hear what you’ve been through. What you’re still putting yourself through. Until those hunters are caught, you’ll never be truly safe. For the meantime, he’ll just have to keep an eye out for you, and see if any hunters decide to show up in town. Maybe he could even enlist Kris’ help. After all, Kris is the better tracker.
Arriving back to the house, Junmyeon quietly makes his way through the door, closing it gently behind him.
“You’re home late. Or should I say early,” Kris’ teasing voice nearly causes Junmyeon to jump in surprise.
“Shh, you’re going to wake the others,” he whispers frantically, motioning for Kris to keep his voice down.
“You’re too paranoid,” Kris laughs. “You’re forgetting the rooms are not only soundproof from the inside, but the outside as well. No one can hear us.”
By the end of his statement, Kris’ voice has gradually grown louder, causing Junmyeon to cringe slightly. He sighs soon afterwards, “you’re right.”
“Mhmm,” Kris hums in amusement before changing the subject. “How is she?”
“Wonderful,” immediately, the corners of his lips turn up in happiness as he thinks about you.
“Good, I’m glad,” Kris nods.
“We’re meeting again at the clearing in two days’ time,” Junmyeon informs him.
“Junmyeon,” Kris lets out a sigh, causing Junmyeon to frown.
“What?”
“Just be careful, especially now that you’ve given her pack that clearing as part of their territory. They may think you weren’t being serious if they catch your scent all over it,” Kris shakes his head, “and her.”
His beast snarls at this. Who is Kris to say he can’t be with you, his mate?
“Now before you get all defensive, there’s another reason you should be wary,” Kris continues before Junmyeon can get a word in. “Someone has let hunters into our territory.”
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sanguinifex · 7 years ago
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Who does Alim get along with best among the Origins/Awakenings crew, besides Zevran? Is there anybody he wishes he had NOT picked up on the road for any particular reason?
By late adolescence, Alim learns that not picking fights with people for the heck of it makes things go better (he doesn’t have much sense of self-preservation during that time period, but it’s actually a combination of relative apathy and being extremely goal-oriented), so he gets along okay with most of the people he works with. He already knows Wynne, and Maker is it weird that she’s treating him like an adult now, and he gets along surprisingly well with Morrigan, because they have to work together for mage practice. (Which Wynne directs. She actually likes having the challenge. Half of which is making it simultaneously challenging for both of them, because their talents are at pretty opposite ends of the magic spectrum and Morrigan is still learning all the Circle terminology.) So he probably hangs out with them most for most of Origins. (Of course, this makes the Dark Ritual all the more awkward. Alim just doesn’t see her like that.)
Of course, then Things happen in Denerim during the Landsmeet and for a few weeks he and Zevran end up working very closely with Leliana. Alim realizes that she’s not the Maker-addled novice she appeared to be in Lothering, not quite, and that she’s actually a very skilled bard and political mastermind. He’s seen her fight for months, but people can be quite good at archery but still basically dumb as bricks in other respects. Not her. So they wrangle the Landsmeet into installing poor Alistair (because they don’t trust Anora not to kick the Wardens out as soon as the Blight’s over) and make sure they have a lot of blackmail material on anyone else who wants to be the power behind the throne, and Leli almost accidentally ends up with a job offer from the Grand Cleric, and they all keep in touch after. Years later, Leli gets Alim and Zevran jobs at Skyhold, bc Orlesian universities are mostly super racist and the Warden administration isn’t helping.
He’s wary of Alistair at first, because the entire way he moves and even his footsteps just scream “Templar,” but by the time they’re out of the Korcari Wilds, he realizes that there’s a reason Alistair didn’t finish his training–he’s just not the kind of guy to smite first and ask questions later. (And then, over the next few weeks, it turns out he literally can’t recognize blood magic if you do it in front of him. Alim has to tell him outright, eventually.) He’s pretty reserved around Sten and Shale, because that’s how they like it. Sten teaches him some stuff about strategy, though, because when Sten challenges him (and Alim just flattens him), Alim’s like, “Okay, how would you do it?” Many diagrams ensue.
The one person he really dislikes is Oghren. The dude just won’t stop following them! Worse, Oghren somehow seems to think he’s best buds with Alim, and Alim’s just standing there going “uh huh” and grinning like “PLEASE SOMEONE SAVE ME” and it’s. SO. AWKWARD. Alim gets him a job and thinks he’s rid of him, and then he shows up in Awakening and it’s like “Are you fucking kidding me?” (Though he grudgingly accepts that the dude’s good at killing darkspawn.)
He’s pretty good friends with Anders, but it’s a little awkward because Anders was already pretty much grown up back when Alim was a tiny ball of bad pranks and ballistic rage. When Anders says “I remember you from the Circle!”, there’s a lot that could mean. It’s probably screaming and sliding down the library staircase banister. Velanna gets pretty close to him and helps him look for his clan (and teaches him cool vine magic). He takes a while to trust Nathaniel, but it’s very useful having a local who can be told Warden stuff, and it’s also politically useful to have a Howe on hand. Sigrun’s pretty cool. Justice freaks him the fuck out, for good reason, but that whole Spirit Warrior thing kicks ass. (Alim starts thinking about the magical connections between mage abilities, Spirit Warriors, and Templar skills. There’s an alarming amount of overlap.) He and Anders both find it useful to have a spirit physically present to draw from, because Spirit Healing. (They did ask first!)
I think that’s everyone? So I guess the person he’s most friends with would be Morrigan, followed by Leliana and Velanna. Especially in Awakening, he’s like super aware of needing to have professional boundaries, but he does get a little closer to some people. It’s usually that some outside need or circumstance causes him to end up becoming that familiar with people, not just casual bonding.
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flyacrossadoublerainbow · 6 years ago
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Perfect Girl| Life is Strange Nathan Prescott x Reader
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Author's note: I'm sorry if i go a little overboard on Nathan's character ot god knows what else, i just had a small plot in my head and decided to use it and it will follow the timeline of the game and it may be seperated into different parts, in any case i hope you enjoy my drabble.
You were what people called the 'perfect girl'. Not because you were the girl every guy wanted, or because you were popular, but because you never attended parties on your own accord and you always stuck to your work. You wanted to focous on your writing career and become an author, you already had an idea for a story worked out, but it just didn't know if you wanted to take a chance and try to make a comic or actually write a book. Just because you wanted to become an author doesn't mean it has to be limited to a book filled with words, but you also knew that words are the most powerful thing to humans, it describes scenarios, allows you to give detail and can make a story feel alive, but a comic can allow people to see the action and not have to look up so many big words. You remember those days before you learned so much, you figured you may as well put it to use. 
As you sat back in your dorm, listening to some music to help bring your story some light, you heard a loud knock on your door. After pausing your music, you got up and opened the door and was greeted by Dana's annoyed face. "why didn't you hear me knock? Blasting your music again?" "yeah, I've been working on a character for my story and i needed some music to help me gain ideas" you nodded as Dana sighed "imagination isn't bad, but you should come out with Hayden, Juliet and i tonight, we're gonna go to the beach for a little and have a small party." "no thanks Dana, maybe if i get a date or convinced I'll consider the vortex club's 'End of the World' party." Dana sighed and nodded. "alright then (y/n). But if you do want a date come hit me up and I'll hook you up with someone." you giggled at Dana's response "I'll keep that in mind Dana, but for now I'll stick with my fanfics." "alright then my little nerdette, but you'll have to come down from your tower someday." "maybe if my knight in shining armor shows up." Dana grinned and giggled "you would even turn down your prince? That's sad, but your also a fighter at heart and he'll have a lot on his hands, i wish you luck." smiling, you told Dana that one day you'll find your 'prince' and that she better hurry and meet Juliet and Hayden. Once you closed your door, you were alone again, in your perfect room of solitude.
As you sat in the back of the class barley listening to what Mr.Jefferson was saying, you glanced around the class and ended up resting your gaze at Nathan Prescott. You have no reason to talk to him, let alone think about him, but from what you know about Nathan and have seen, you know he's an asshole, but it's sad. If you had the courage you would try to befriend him....But you've had too many experiences with guys like him and most of them attached themselves to you, you were like their 'angel' that they couldn't let go. Despite your past, you wouldn't mind getting to know Nathan although, it would be dangerous, and take forever to pull him out of his shell. As the class continued while you were taking notes and drawing small pictures and symbols all over your spiral, a crumbled note landed on your desk from god knows who. As you looked up at Mr.Jefferson who was too busy talking to pay much attention, you grabbed the ball of paper and carefully unfold it that had told you to meet at the Two Whales diner after school and to sit in the back near the Jukebox, but the writer is still unknown. The rest of the day went on as usual until you arrived at the Two Whales diner.
When you arrived at the diner you sat in the back near the jukebox as the note instructed while you waited for your anonymous sender. We're you worried? Well, worried was an understatement, you were kinda scared especially since in a town like Arcadia Bay where there are mostly druggies, even most students were into that stuff and who knows if a druggie or a dealer comes in for you for anything they want. Your worries we're washed away as Joyce came to your table to take your order, and to make yourself better you went with a strawberry milkshake. You sat and looked out the window as you heard the bell hanging above the diner bell ring, it was nothing unusual until you spotted Nathan walking towards you in an assertive manner. As you turned your head and watched as Nathan sit on yhe opposite side, he told you that his time better not be wasted by meeting with you.
"why do you want to meet with me?"
"don't ask questions, i don't want anyone to assume anything between us and meeting here is a bad thing anyways, so don't ask questions and be thankful that it's not an alley!"
"alright, i won't ask anything. Now what do you want?"
You watched as Nathan glanced around the diner and turned back to you and saying in an almost whisper
"i need someone to help cover for me at the next Vortex club party and you would be a good candidate."
Now you were worried 
"I'm sorry Nathan, but why me and not someone lile Victoria?"
"because, you are the good girl, you don't wanna get into trouble and you barely join any of the parties so you can make up for me being gone, a lot of people in the Vortex club watch what you do and a few of them swear that your a better dancer than most of the girls in the club especially after you drink."
"so...What your telling me is that you want me to attend a Vortex Party on your behalf because I'm the talk of the campus?"
"pretty much, and if you want i can pay you-"
"i don't need your money, and if i would go to the party i would need to be heavily persuaded, amd not by money."
As you sat back and watched Nathan's face turn hard, Joyce came back with your milkshake that you gladly accepted. The ment that Joyce left Nathan spoke in a low, harsh tone.
"if you don't do this I'll make sure that your out of Blackwell!"
"why should i worry when i pretty much have my degree? I'm only staying for the next year or two for any extra degrees i want."
You could tell that Nathan was gonna go ballistic, but Nathan didn't do something that you ever thought he would do, bargian.
"fine- if that doesn't work, then what would it take?"
"hmmmm... If you can fimd me a date by Thursday, I'll go and make it worthwhile and I'll habe more leverage for the Vortex to talk about."
Nathan grinned, he had to admit that for a good girl who studies hard and doesn't care to party, you know exactly how to gain people's attention.
"you have yourself a deal (y/l/n), i already have a few people in mind that will be perfect for you. And you may as well stay in contact with me too just in case."
"what for? In case i change my mind?"
"if you find someone other than one of my friends for the dance."
You nodded as Nathan put his number into your phone and put yours in his. You have no other choice than to agree.
"alright then, i guess I'll see you in Photography."
"don't worry, you'll see me a lot more than just in photography."
As you watched Nathan walk out of the diner you knew you sold your soul to the devil of Arcadia Bay, and that the week was gonna be a long one.
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reluctanthunterjohn-blog · 8 years ago
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Happy Hunting || Self Para
John knew his weekend plans to hang out with his friends would have been cancelled against his wishes. His stepfather had a lead on a powerful witch that called Vermont home. Naturally, John had to drop everything and take the weekend trip with Gio and a few other hunters. It didn’t help that he had a game on Friday. The only reason John was even allowed to play in it was because he convinced Gio that it would draw attention to him when he needed to blend in. But, as soon as the game was called, John was expected to go straight home and hit the road.
“How was the game?” Gio asked as his car roared to life. John shrugged. They won, of course, but the victory was bitter since he couldn’t celebrate with his friends. They were all heading back to Gary Brickston’s house and were probably jumping into the freezing pool (of course Gary has it open already and it’s only hit up sixty for like three whole days). The girls were probably giggling and having a good time pretending to be so cold that only the guys can keep them warm. It wasn’t even that John wanted the girls. It was just normalcy. He’d rather be catering to the needs of a silly girl than hunting down a witch.
When John didn’t answer, Gio just turned on the radio. He had a thing for classic rock. John didn’t mind really. It was something to fill the gap. They used to talk strategies for the takedown but that stopped when John stopped caring about hunting witches.
The verbal silence ended as they pulled up to the hunter’s cabin. Every state in the United States has a hunter, even the rural ones like Vermont. The hunter they were meeting was Jebidiah. He was a scrawny man with tawny hair and wide set brown eyes. His slacks were dirty and his hands were callused from years of manual labor. “Jeb!” Gio boomed as they got closer.
“Gio, John, how goes it?” He extended a hand and shook both their hands.
“Same old, same old,” Gio replied looking at his stepson to nod his head in agreement. “So, you said you found a coven. How many witches do you think there are?” They’re not covens, John thought to himself. He learned so much from the witch. Covens was an outdated term that no-maj, what they called people who weren’t magical, used. They were simply communities but John wouldn’t correct Gio. That would draw more suspicion on his new distaste for hunting.
“It’s up in the woods. It was hard to find. I spent days getting lost and feeling woozy.” The man moved his hands along with the words. “Then bam! One night, I found it.” That was how most of the hunter come upon communities of witches. They cloak the town with spells and magic but it’s not perfect. Every once in awhile, they broke through and found the witches. There were more sophisticated ways to go about locating witch communities but out in the boonies, you worked with what you had.
“Let’s get everything together and we can go on a witch hunt,” and Jebidiah led them into the cabin and showed them all of the “witch hunting” gear he had. In reality, a typical bullet could kill a witch like it would kill anyone else.
Armed with the new knowledge, the “witch hunting” gear wasn’t nearly as impressive as it was before. The antique killing apparatus was only a rusted piece of junk worth the two seconds it would take to throw it out.
__
The small town was peaceful. John felt as if they were walking through a small area of Adamsville. The beat rows of houses and the small shops set in the middle. It was late and most of the people were inside. Jebidiah and Gio were talking to one another and the other hunters that joined them whispered as John kept to himself.
The silent command to stop came from Gio. He sent different hunters in different directions to maximize their efforts, to rid the earth of as many witches as possible.
The house John was sent to had been a squat two story with a big bay window in the front. It sort of reminded him of his grandmother’s house down in Connecticut.
“What’s ya plan?” John rolled his eyes as he heard the hunter next to him speak. “Ya got one, right?” John nodded. It was a lie. He didn’t know what to do but he was Gio’s stepson and he was expected to know these things.
They crept up the small steps and the lump in John’s chest grew. He reached for the front door and it was unlocked. Damnit. He was hoping it would be magically locked. He wasn’t equipped to break through any magic. It would’ve bought them some more time.
The house was furnished modestly. The family that lived there was just like an average family. They had a living room and a kitchen. John noted the lack of a television but he’d noticed a lot of witch families didn’t have one.
The hunter with John decided to venture up to the second story as John made sure the place was secure. A flash of green came from the staircase and the sound of something rolling down the stairs sent John into high alert.
“Who’s here?” A voice came from upstairs, “I know how to use a killing curse! I’m not afraid to use it!” John was faced with the difficult decision whether or not to out himself. “Hello!”
John moved with his hands in the air, “I’m here but I mean you no harm.” He moved slowly to show himself to the witch.
“You’re just a boy,” the person rubbed her temples with one hand as she tapped her bottom lip with the dark wand. “Stupefy!” As the word came from her lips, a stream of light came toward him and rocketed him through the beautiful bay window. Shards of glass radiated outward and that feeling of suspension set into his stomach as he was sent through the night. Gravity soon took over and pulled his body toward the ground on a bed of grass littered with glass.
Cracks could be heard all around the community. Witches were leaving. Brooms were seen taking off and John was sure there were witches on those brooms.
Gio could be heard in the distance. John rolled to the side as glass cut into his skin. His palms was sliced as he tried to push himself off the ground. “Son!” Gio came as John rose from his glassy bed. “Are you alright? What happened?”
“Louie went to investigate upstairs and I was downstairs still securing the place. The green light came and he was dead,” John said as he picked a large piece of glass from his palm.
“Damn it all,” Gio groaned as he kicked at the glass. “They got another!” He shouted to the rest of the hunters.
“We got one!” A few guys came from the darkness shoving a young man forward with his hands behind his back. “Caught this one trying to climb through a chimney.” The young man looked to be around John’s age or younger. His golden locks were a tousled mess. He appeared to be covered in soot and his shirt had been torn from the hunters yanking him from the fireplace.
John and the young man locked eyes. They both shared the same expression, stoic with an undertone of fear. Apparate, damnit! John learned that the witches were able to leave so quickly by a process called apparation. He didn’t exactly understand it but it seemed to be effective. He knew that the rest of the witches escaped that way. He knew that because the witch told him so.
“Sorry!” John heard a whisper in his head and the young man gave him a small smile. Suddenly, the young man was gone. There was screaming and blood everywhere. One of the hunters had his hand taken off. John heard about a complication to the apparating thing. Spliching? Splinching? Something. It meant the hand went with the young man. Oh well, John thought, I hope he’s a lefty.
____
“John Smith!” Annie, John’s mother, bellowed when he walked through the door with bandaged hands. “What in the world!”
“We were dirt bike riding and there was glass. John’s tire popped and sent his flying. He should be fine, Hun,” Gio walked in behind and placed a firm pat on John’s shoulder that sent ripples through his back. Each small cut from the glass whimpered but John has to suck it up. His mother couldn’t know. She would go ballistic.
“Oh, my baby,” she came over to investigate. “You need to be more careful. And you,” she turned to her husband, “find less dangerous things to do. Like knitting.” Annie tried to hold back the laughter but it slipped through a smidgen and a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She knew her husband and son would never pick up knitting but she was tired of seeing them come home with bumps and bruises. Surely there had to be a hobby that didn’t cause bodily harm that could satiate their need for an adrenaline rush.
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cheshirecaine · 8 years ago
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Family Man [fic]
Hal stumbled down the steps, wobbling as his toes clenched for purchase and flapping his sleeved arms to maintain his balance. Damian looked up his nose at him from beside his father and the rest of the Bats. He stared at the side of Bruce’s head, questioning his taste, even as Bruce stared at the monitors in front of him. Bruce narrowed his eyes, focussing in on a section of the main screen like a camera lens. The keyboard keys clicked as his fingers tapped them at an erratic pace. The footage enlarged on screen and he zoomed into a corner of the video surveillance. He played the short clip again, this time with the reflection of the witness’ more pronounced. His mouth movements were blurred and none of them could make out any clear words. He switched to a visual display of the audio, filtering out any background noise, before turning back. He replayed the clip and the Bats leaned forwards, concentrating harder. The screen turned to static mid-speech and Bruce rewound once more. “Scott Kohr? Kore? Did the witness know any Scotts?” Tim asked, his cowl leaving only the turn of his mouth visible to show his apprehension. Jason narrowed his eyes. “No. He was friends with a lot of scum, but Johnny boy didn’t know any Scotts.” “You sure about that, Red? Just ‘cause he worked in your territory ‘doesn’t mean you know all of his friends,” Stephanie pointed out, her hood pulled down—unlike Tim’s—and her expression betraying her disbelief. “I know that,” Jason responded, forcing the words out through clenched teeth. “Except he’s– he was one of my informants. As a precaution, he told me everything from his mum’s surgery dates to”—he waved a prompting hand—“the names of everybody he ran across. Fat lot of good it did him though. Booted out of the military for a bullet wound and now he’s in a medical coma.” Stephanie looked like she was about to carry on anyway, so Jason moved his hands from beside his guns and crossed them across his chest into a position that screamed back down. Barbara cast them a too-casual glance, turning back to Bruce. “Why did the CCTV cut out?” “Faulty wiring,” Bruce answered, his steepled fingers casting a shadow over his face. Tim tugged his cowl off his head, pulling a hand through his hair in an acquired tic. “I’ll get on that later. After we’ve dealt with this, and after I’ve gotten ahead on this month’s Neon Knights paperwork.” Dick dropped a hand on his shoulder, dragging his hand up his nape through his own hair. “Don’t worry about that right now. It’s more important to focus on whoever he was talking about.” He addressed the last to Bruce, before turning to Jason. “Do you have any clue what he was talking about, Jason?” Jason considered. If the situation had been less serious and less personal, he would have been in more of a mood to bask in their dependency on him. “. . . He was off his meds.” Bruce spun around in his chair. “He took his prescriptions regularly without fail. And he looks pretty steady, considering the circumstances.” “He’d finished his last dose already, so he was planning on picking up his prescriptions on the way home. And nothing says that without his meds he immediately switches to jumping at shadows. He gets overwhelmed; he’s not getting high on Fear Toxin.” “Tt. You couldn’t have mentioned that earlier, Todd?” Jason knew Damian would have something to say. “I didn’t know earlier. The only way it could make sense is if he was being chased a whole hour longer than everybody here predicted.” Dick latched onto Damian to hold him back. Barbara pulled a handheld from her bag, plugging the USB cable into the mainframe. “If that’s the case, it’s a good thing we’re all here. It’s a bigger problem than we realise.” Bruce leaned backwards in his chair to give her better access to the computer keys. “This level of preparation is unorthodox. And it explains a lot about why all the criminals in Gotham have been acting all weird lately. Like they know something we don’t.” She stopped typing for a blink, then started up again, her fingers striking the keys with undeserved vengeance. “The only problem is . . .” “They were right,” Bruce sat up straighter and joined her, processing her searches and setting up his own algorithms. The computer let out a chirp, signalling the search’s end. Dick’s eyebrows shot up. “I know we were expecting a lot of hits–” “But that’s a lot of hits,” chimed in Stephanie, her own gaze affixed like his to the number emblazoned in red across the screens. “The sooner we start narrowing them down, the quicker this is over.” Tim’s words weren’t as comforting as he thought. In all fairness though, his forehead was creased in that way it got when he realised he was going to spend full days with minimal sleep. Hal was still perched on the stone stairs. He took a leap to the ground and slunk towards them with an air of practiced innocence. “Hey, guys—I didn’t know Scott Cawthon was visiting Gotham!” In that moment, the Bat family had one mind, and only one thought. What? “If I’d known he was visiting, I’d have gotten some autographs for my nieces and nephews!” said Hal, watching the looped video shifted to a corner of the centre screen. “What?” None of them could tell you for sure who or which of them asked the question. “They’re huge fans. It’s kinda creepy. How can they not be scared? Some of them haven’t even hit puberty yet!” Bruce stopped typing, and stared intently at the main screen. “I suppose it’s not the worst thing in the world—better than shooter games or, doing drugs, I guess?” Bruce turned his gaze on Hal. “What?” Damian slammed a fist on the desk and barked out a response before Bruce could speak. “Who is this Scott Cawthon? And why do you know him?” “Oh, please.” Hal rolled his eyes. “As if none of you know who Scott Cawthon is—Wait. If he travelled to Gotham, that wouldn’t exactly be publicised . . . Have you guys been stalking Scott Cawthon? ‘Cause I get it—I wanna know if he’s actually sticking to deadlines with this one—but there’s such a thing as boundaries.” Another anonymous “What?” “Sometimes I worry for the younger kids, my older nieces seem to waver when it comes to morality. But, then again. Isaac and Natasha said that they couldn’t be scared because their favourite uncle is Green Lantern . . . I am not looking forward to when they get old enough to start lying. “I wish Cass was here.” “Oh . . . Isn’t that her on the ceiling?” Hal pointed upwards. And lo and behold, there she was. She swooped her way down and shot the others an unimpressed look. "Detectives.” They winced. “Do you think he’d be upset if I asked for an autograph? And maybe a photo? Might even buy him a drink as thanks for the whole”—he flopped his hand over in the air—“everything.” He tilted his head; considering. “Maybe I’ll get him to spill some info about the next one.” His lips quirked mischievously. “The kids’ll go ballistic.” “Explain, Jordan!” Damian stared Hal down through the lenses of his mask. “Scott Cawthon’s in town?” Hal’s voice rose in pitch at the end—it dawned on him that he seemed to be on a different page. “Who. Is. He?” “The game designer. Creator of the Five Nights at Freddie’s series. Well, franchise.” Damian huffed, still visibly fuming. Hal looked from him to the others. “Is this a crime thing?” “Got it in one, little green nightlight.” Tim held a hand over his face, looking as weary as a man three times his age. Damian flung his head to glare at Stephanie. He twisted back to bark out something derogatory at Hal. Jason stepped in front of him, blocking his view. “You know anything that could help us find the shitheads that got my guy?” “How low you’ve fallen, Todd+. You expect him to help us?” Jason shrugged. “I care more about making things right by Joel than I do about your ego, kid.” He ignored Damian’s scoff and spoke to cut him off. “Do you know why someone would link Scott Cawthon to some gun running?” “Apparently, a ton of Gotham kids are fans too. Louise said her pen pals in Gotham had gotten together with a bunch of kids from other schools to deck themselves in FNAF stuff for Friday the 13th. ‘Cause, you know, horror. There’re supposed to be a few schools in a bunch of districts getting involved. I think some of the richer kids are buying toys to send to the others that morning. Charity’s a good thing, but I’m guessing the guns’ll be smuggled in the trucks and the toys.” “. . . Thanks, Hal.” “No problem, Jason.” “I’ll send you guys any intel I can scrounge up in the next few hours.” Jason called over his shoulder, directing his words at Bruce mostly. Bruce had already opened up a dozen forums, and was scanning them to isolate any posts talking about the day. “Oh!” Hal called out to Jason. “And maybe check the sewers around those schools too.” He regarded Jason’s quirked eyebrow. “They needed places they could get into near their school to store stuff without anyone seeing it—janitors and teachers get more vigilant in the lead up to Halloween. Besides, what kids use warehouses?” Jason acknowledged his words with a nod, then slammed his helmet onto his head. “I’ll come with you. I need to stop off downtown anyway, and I’ll liaise with some of the clean police officers.” Tim trotted over to him, drawing his cowl over his face. He swung onto the bike behind Jason. Jason revved his bike, and they screeched out of the cave. “I’ll go butter up my dad.” “I’ll go with you, Babs.” “Aren’t dads supposed to hate their daughter’s exes? It’s like my dad likes you more than me.” “At least me being there will justify talking about police work for an hour straight.” “I know.” Dick rested a hand on Damian’s shoulder, urging him upstairs, as he and Barbara made to leave. Stephanie turned to Cass, the only one left besides Bruce and Hal, trying to avoid the growing tension. “Feel like getting a burger, Cass?” “Cheeseburgers. With fries.” “Deal!” Steph briefly linked their pinkies. The cave was left in silence as they followed in the wake of Jason and Tim. Hal smacked his lips. “So? You planning on going anywhere too?” Bruce spun around in his chair and steepled his fingers. “They can investigate this on their own—they’re enough to cover all of Gotham easily. I can provide them with back-up from here. It’s more important to collate all the info on this I can get from their correspondence.” “Do you really need to be here to do that? Or can the computer do it on its own?” “The search is automatic and according to protocols I’ve already set in place.” “So, in a word: no.” “No then.” “And Alfred can cover them from here. Right?” “I suppose.” Bruce rubbed at his temple. “I don’t look forward to co-ordinating all of them.” Hal smiled—he always enjoyed getting Bruce to slip out from under the professional burden of Batman. “So . . . you’re not busy then?” Bruce quirked a brow in an almost exact copy of Jason. Just less objectively endearing, thought Hal. But subjectively very endearing. “I’m just saying, we could spend the rest of the day together. In bed. Or the shower. Whichever you prefer really.” “It’s the middle of the afternoon, Hal.” Bruce still had some resistance up, turning back to the computer and ignoring Hal sashaying his way over to him. “I just got up. Doesn’t that count as mid-morning sex?” He leaned over Bruce. “I’m only saying, you don’t want to be working and I’m giving you an out. Don’t you miss seeing me naked?” He planted a quick kiss on Bruce’s lips, then spun away, dashing out of reach. Nobody moved for a second. Bruce leapt to his feet, smashing his lips to Hal’s and nearly knocking the man over. Hal held Bruce’s face and slowed the pace, nipping and biting and sucking wetly. Bruce lined Hal’s neck with kisses, gently scraping his teeth along the skin to mark his way. Hal moaned, tossing his head back to give Bruce more room. Seeking out Bruce’s mouth, he drew forwards again. Bruce caught his lips and licked his way into Hal’s mouth . . . Then he ripped away from Hal and stomped back to the computer. Hal looked at Bruce like he’d just whispered ‘Hail Hydra’ in his ear. Bruce jammed his finger onto a few keys, then sighed as confirmation messages popped up on screen. He thundered his way back to Hal and let Hal leap into his arms like the overly spoilt cat he wished he could be. Bruce carried him to the lift, holding Hal securely to avoid jostling him as he stepped out into the study. Bruce pressed the clock entrance shut with his foot and carried Hal to his room, letting the man flop onto the bed unceremoniously and stretch across the sheets. “You’d think you were the one doing the heavy lifting.” Hal opened an eye. “What can I say? I’m still tired.” He pulled himself up. “And whose fault is that?” Bruce smirked. “What can I say? You were the one who wanted something to make up for your time away.” Hal collapsed back onto the pillows. “Fine. It’s my fault. Now punish me by taking the lead.” “I can think of better things.” Suffice it to say, Hal didn’t have any more energy when they were done. . . . But enough to agree to storing the footage of their tryst deep within Bruce’s archives where none of the kids would find it and where it would remain unwatched . . . until the next week, when Hal returned from another brief spell away on Lantern business.
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