#diana fics

[diana-rose-25]

☆Hidden Divination Teaser

pairing/s: Hashira! Kyojuro Rengoku x Hashira! Reader (for a brief time), Hashira! Sanemi Shinazugawa x Hashira! Reader

warnings: dead dove do not eat themes: brief description of pedophilia, miscarriage, child abuse, child endagerment, child marriage, child pregnancy, death, mentions of sexual s/a, mentions of ptsd, panic and anxiety attacks, miscarriage

description: How can you make noise in an empty can? How can you write with no ink? How can you live without a will? How can you have hope in a world that has relentlessly failed you over and over again? How is (Y/N) still alive after everything? It's a gift, a blessing, as most would say that she is still alive and kind. "She feels like the warm sunshine after the rain," "always smiling, always so lovely," most would describe, yet a certain Wind Hashira will say otherwise. Not because he disagrees, but because he knows — he saw — how a woman everyone says is almost invincible and gifted and warm, has her hidden storm beneath the sky.

Warning: Mentions of past s/a, child abuse, child pregnancy, miscarriage, pedophilia.

“I got pregnant when I was twelve.”

Sanemi was surprised his head was still intact to his neck at how he turned beside the girl so fast. The air surrounding the two of them became heavy with the confession. The white-haired man could only stare silently at the girl with wide eyes, frozen in place, feeling mixed emotions of disgust, anger, (not towards her, of course) and sadness.

"I got pregnant by a much older yet non the wiser man back in my village."

The two of them sat at the porch on one of the Wisteria Mansions provided by the corps for recovery after missions. There are no bruises or cuts that litter their bodies anywhere. They didn't even face any demons this day. Yet, in Sanemi's opinion, this has been one of the hardest and most painful mission he has ever encountered yet.

He wishes Masachika is here with them. He's far better than Sanemi with these heavy emotional encounters, but he's sent on another mission, leaving him to deal with this alone.

The two of them sat side by side, a three feet distance between the two of them. The girl, no older than fifteen, sat with her legs together, back straight, with her hands folded on top of her lap. She's sitting there so quiet and serene, as if she didn't drop the deepest, darkest lore of her origin seconds ago.

Sanemi felt his fingers twitch — to reach out to her and comfort her, or find the damned man who did those unspeakable things to her, he didn't know.

(Y/N) didn't look at him, her gaze focused on the sky above them. It is a wonderful night. There are no clouds that can hide the view of the stars that shine above them, the luminescent light of the full moon, it is heartbreakingly beautiful this silent, serene night. Try as she might hide it, the beautiful night sky also can not conceal the tears that pool her beautiful eyes despite the small smile on her face.

"I lost the babe when he pushed me down the stairs."

He swallowed the lump on his throat painfully, lips parting and closing again as he tried to find the words that are appropriate in this situation.

Sanemi couldn't remember what led to this moment. Maybe it was the mission earlier, maybe its been bottled up for so long that she had to share it with someone, or maybe she's starting to trust him now after a year of joining the corps. He didn't know. Sanemi didn't know many things, and he isn't certain about all the things he knows, but one thing for certain is that he's not going away any time soon.

A gentle breeze caused (Y/N) to close her eyes, welcoming the gentle wind to cress her face in a sense of comfort, and brushes her hair away from her face and wrap her in a cold hug.

For the millionth time that day, Sanemi's heart broke at the familiarity of it all. A long time ago, this exact same scenario happened to a sweet, kind, and beautiful woman who didn't deserve any of it. They had done nothing in their lives to deserve any of this. Nobody deserves the lives they've lived.

(Y/N) felt his presence come closer with caution, as if she's a gazelle that would scatter away if he moved too suddenly. Her eyes are still closed as her smile grows a little. She didn't mind his presence. If anything, she felt safe around him the moment her corps fitting disaster. She knew he wouldn't do anything that would cause her discomfort.

So it came as a pleasant surprise when she felt a caloused yet comforting hand rest on top of hers. (Y/N) opened her eyes and turns her head slowly to face the white-haired man beside her.

Sanemi's lips parted when her eyes met his, it was filled with so much pain and agony as much as it was beautiful. When she didn't pull away, he grips her hand a bit more tightly — not enough to inflict pain, but enough to provide that secure comfort (Y/N) could not find anywhere else other than her father figure Gyomei.

With much needed courage, Sanemi brought his other hand on top of her head, patting it gently with a rare smile, albeit pained.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)."

It wasn't his fault. He had no need to say sorry to what happened to her in the past. He wasn't there, and he didn't have any part to play in it. Those words had never much impact on her, used to that comment with the select few she shared her story with, but with the way he said so sincere and soft, salty tears unknowingly ran down her face.

(Y/N)'s body shakes into a full sob the moment Sanemi pulled her closer in an embrace, holding her tightly as she falls apart right in front of him.

Yes, there is no more doubt in her mind. Underneath the cold sky and with the stars and moon as witnesses, here in his arms, (Y/N) had never felt more safe and protected.

I do not own Demon Slayer (Kimetsu no Yaiba) and their characters.

divider by @xxbimbobunnyxx and @inkedreverie

— ©All Rights Reserved @diana-rose-25

[adreamfromnevermore]

AU Where the Justice League forms as usual except for one slight difference where Bruce just so happens to have been the one superheroing for the longest. (Excluding Diana, who got up to it in World War 1 and then mostly didn't while she learned about Man's World)

Bruce helps form the Justice League, ignoring all of the comments as they come to the sudden realization that Gotham's baby cryptid story is actually a man in a very intimidating armored suit who can and will break your arm if you cause problems for him. They are unaware that this is not the first team he's led, and actually he's used to teams full of mostly teenagers who also happen to be his children. This should be easier, this team is primarily adults.

He realizes rapidly that he doesn't understand these people.

His kids take bonding activities to mean learning a dozen different ways to break someones leg. That doesn't fly with these people. And that is most of Bruce's ideas, hell when he was a kid Alfred took every opportunity to get him out of his room and mostly that was with the agreement that Alfred would teach him how to defend himself. He's come by it honestly.

This team is not easier. They have more drama than when his house was actually full of kids. It's insane. He doesn't know what to do with it, usually he just sent the kids to their rooms or grounded them from patrol. That doesn't work here.

He comes to a strange crossroads. That falls apart when he forgets who he's working with and snaps at Hal with a full room of heroes that the next person to throw a punch or an insult without a reason too will be sparring with him.

A long standing rule in the batcave that worked two fold to prevent infighting between the kids and too ensure that they were well and truly trained.

It works wonders. No one says a word out of line for the rest of the debrief. Bruce becomes the unofficial mediator of the league over Clark because anytime he walked in on a fight it suddenly became 10 times more civil out of sheer terror of what he'd do to them in a sparring match.

Eventually they actually meet his kids. Well, one kid.

Half way through a mission (one of the rare ones in Gotham) the Bat comes to a complete stop at the edge of an alley. Every single league member on the team comes to a stop behind him. Slowly from the shadows of the alley a man in a red helmet stalks out to greet them.

"You don't call, you don't write"

"Red Hood."

"Don't Red Hood me! We've been worried sick!"

"I was at the cave last night."

"You didn't answer my texts B. You always answer my texts."

Somehow it ends with big and scary following them through the rest of the mission with a running commentary of how much Bats has let him down in his failure to respond in a timely manner to a text send less than an hour before he ran into them in the alley. It only ends when Red Robin shows up.

And even then it only ends because Hood can't keep himself from throwing a punch and Bruce has to snap at him that if he throws another one they're sparring when they get home.

And by god is Jason giving up the chance to punch his brothers.

[taurasiluvr]

SIZE KINKS WITH MY FAVORITES !

including . . . paige bueckers, diana taurasi, emily engstler & caitlin clark

how you can help palestine

 ⠀ ── ⠀warnings ;; nsfw under the cut, mdni. lesbian... sex, a lot of it lmao. fingering, praise, size kinks.

 ⠀ ── ⠀rylin's notes ;; requests are open for those who want to send them in :p also just wanted to add i tried making this as inclusive as possible, if you are plus-sized, let me know if this was good !! its never my intention to make anyone feel left out, my writing is for EVERYBODY (except men)

PAIGE BUECKERS (slight nsfw)

 ⠀ ── ⠀paige is taller than most people, standing at around 5"11'. all her previous partners were taller/around her height so once she'd began dating you, everything kind of shifted and she loved it. she likes to tease you about it a lot – and yes, she is the type to purposely put the mugs on the highest shelf so that you call her over – and with some convincing (she loves seeing you struggle on your tippy-toes, trying to reach), she'll come and help you.

however, not only does she love it – it turns her on exponentially. the way she could easily push you around and assert her dominance in small, playful ways became an undeniable part of your relationship. she adored the way you looked up at her with those wide eyes, the mixture of surprise and amusement whenever she effortlessly moved you out of the way or pinned you playfully against a wall.

paige found herself reveling in the power dynamic, her hands lingering on you a little longer, her touches a little more deliberate. the height difference allowed her to envelop you completely, to make you feel secure yet electrified by her presence. she loved how easily she could lift you, how her strength contrasted with your smaller frame, and how it made her feel in control yet deeply connected to you. every time you called for her help, whether it was to reach something or open a stubborn jar, she felt a thrill run through her. it was more than just the physical act; it was the way you relied on her, the way you trusted her to take care of you in those moments. that trust, that dependency, was intoxicating for paige.

she wouldn't call it a kink per say – more like an aspect of your relationship that added an extra layer of excitement and intimacy. she loved the way you looked at her when she teased you, the playful spark in your eyes that matched her own. it was a game you both played, one that kept the flame of your relationship burning bright. and while she wouldn't call it a kink (it for sure is), she couldn't deny how incredibly turned on she was by the way your dynamics played out.

“need some help, shorty?” she called out as she walked into the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe with that familiar, mischievous smirk.

you sighed dramatically, “you know, you could just put things where i can reach them.”

“but where’s the fun in that?” she teased, stepping closer.

she pressed herself against your back, reaching up effortlessly to grab the bowl. you felt her breath on your neck, and a shiver ran through you. she lingered, her body warm and solid against yours, and you could sense her enjoying the moment. her arm brushed against your side as she placed the bowl in your hands, and she didn't pull away immediately. instead, she stayed close, her fingers lightly tracing the line of your shoulder.

“you're too cute when you struggle,” she whispered, her lips brushing against your ear.

you turned around to face her, your heart racing. the playful glint in her eyes had shifted to something deeper, more intense. she looked down at you, her height making you feel both vulnerable and cherished.

“it's not fair,” you said softly, but your voice lacked any real protest.

paige smiled, her hands coming to rest on your hips. she leaned down, her forehead touching yours, and you felt her warmth envelop you.

“that's too bad cus i really enjoy it,” she murmured, her lips dangerously close to yours. you scoffed, shaking your head dramatically as she laughed.

you could feel the heat between you both, a magnetic pull that had your pulse quickening. she loved having this slight edge over you, the way it made you look up to her – both literally and figuratively. unable to resist any longer, she closed the distance, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and fierce. you responded immediately as her arms wrapping around you, lifting you slightly off the ground, making you feel even smaller in her embrace. the kiss deepened, and you melted into her, your fingers tangling in her hair.

when she finally set you down, you were both breathless. paige's eyes were dark with desire, and she pressed her forehead against yours once more.

“you drive me crazy, you know that?” she whispered.

you smiled, your heart swelling with affection. “great. now, can we get back to making dinner? ’m starving.”

she laughed, a rich, joyful sound that made your heart soar. “only if you promise to keep needing my help with the high shelves.”

you nodded, a playful glint in your eye. “m’kay.”

DIANA TAURASI (nsfw)

 ⠀ ── ⠀she knew what she was getting herself into the moment she began dating you. unlike paige, she would (and has) admitted to having a shameless size kink. diana towers over almost everyone, being 6ft and all – but it really gets her going when it's you.

in bed, she never ever shys away from showing you not only how small you are compared to her – but how strong she is. diana's eyes gleam with anticipation as she playfully pins you down, her muscular frame effortlessly holding you in place. the contrast between her towering height and your smaller stature ignites a primal excitement in her. she loves the way you fit perfectly against her, the way she can envelop you with her body and make you feel both vulnerable and protected at the same time. diana takes immense pleasure in using her height and strength to her advantage, positioning you just where she wants you, lifting you effortlessly, and holding you in place with ease.

she's fiercely confident, and it shows in every movement. diana knows exactly how to play with the power dynamic, teasing you with her dominance while also ensuring you feel cherished. her touch is commanding, yet tender, and she enjoys exploring the boundaries of her strength and your responsiveness.

when she's not pinning you down, she enjoys playfully lifting you, carrying you around, or simply holding you close to her, making you feel small and cherished. diana's size and strength are constant reminders of her presence, and she loves the way you respond to her, the way you melt under her touch, the way your breath catches when she effortlessly moves you. and again, it turns her on in a way she can't even begin to explain.

diana's enjoyment of her size kink isn’t just physical; it's also deeply psychological. she loves the way you look at her with a mix of awe and desire, the way your body reacts to her dominance, the way you crave the unique dynamic you share. it's an intoxicating power play that she never tires of, of strength and submission that fuels her passion.

diana's eyes gleam with anticipation as she pins you down, her muscular frame effortlessly holding you in place. the contrast between her towering height and your smaller stature ignites a primal excitement in her.

“look at you,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “so tiny beneath me.”

diana revels in this dynamic, the way you squirm under her dominance; it's a game she loves to play, and you're a willing participant.

she lifts you with ease, her hands gripping your waist as if you weigh nothing. you feel the heat of her breath against your skin as she whispers, “could hold you like this forever, princess.”

there's a possessive hunger in her eyes, a deep-seated desire to remind you of your place in her world. she seats you down on her lap as she spreads your legs, you could feel her breath fanning on your neck. she rubs your clothed pussy, earning a moan from your lips. her lips quirked up into an excited smirk as she watches your reaction.

“you like that, don’t you?” she teases, her voice low and husky. her fingers continue their relentless teasing, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive you wild. the friction, even through your clothes, sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

“such a good little thing for me,” she praises, her tone both affectionate and commanding. her free hand moves to your hip, holding you in place with a firm yet gentle grip. the intensity of her gaze never wavers, her eyes drinking in every expression that crosses your face.

she leans in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. “love how responsive you are,” she whispers, her breath hot against your skin. “every little sound you make, every shiver... it drives me crazy, baby.”

diana's hands grow bolder, one slipping under your shirt to caress your bare skin, the other continuing its tormenting touch. she revels in the way your body reacts to her, the way you arch into her touch, the soft gasps and moans that escape your lips.

“mine,” she murmurs possessively, her voice a mix of desire and adoration. “all mine.”

with each passing moment, the intensity between you builds, a potent mix of lust and intimacy that leaves you breathless. diana's dominance is unwavering, yet there's a tenderness in her touch that speaks volumes about her feelings for you.

her lips find yours in a searing kiss, full of passion and possessiveness. her hand moves faster, the pressure increasing, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “wanna hear you, princess.” she demands softly, her voice a tantalizing whisper against your lips.

EMILY ENGSTLER (nsfw)

 ⠀ ── ⠀emily liked the fact she was much taller than you, but it wasn't until she finally slept with you when she realized how much it turned her on. in daily life, it was honestly just a plus for her – she loved holding your hips as she led you places, feeling the way you fit perfectly against her side.

she reveled in the little things, like reaching for items on high shelves for you or wrapping her long arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you walked. it made her feel protective and strong, and she could see the appreciation in your eyes, the way you leaned into her touch. and like paige, she'd never call it a size kink even though... it for sure was.

but it was in the privacy of the bedroom where emily's height advantage truly came into play. the first time she had you beneath her, your smaller frame dwarfed by her own, she felt a surge of excitement that she hadn't anticipated. the sight of you looking up at her, wide-eyed and eager, was intoxicating – it got her wet beyond comprehension.

she loved the way you responded to her, the way you would shiver under her touch, your breath hitching as her hands explored your body. emily found herself becoming bolder, her confidence growing with each gasp and moan she elicited from you the more you guys fucked. she'd pin your wrists above your head, her grip firm but gentle, and savor the sight of you laid out beneath her, completely at her mercy.

emily's dominant side thrived on your willingness, your trust in her. she enjoyed the power play, the way she could effortlessly maneuver you into different positions, the way her strength made you feel both vulnerable and cherished. it was a thrilling dynamic, one that brought you both closer together.

outside the bedroom, her dominance was subtler but no less significant. she'd guide you with a hand on your lower back, steer you through crowds with ease, always keeping you close. the height difference was a constant reminder of the bond you shared, a dynamic that seeped into every aspect of your relationship.

"you're so beautiful," she murmured, her voice low and husky. "love how perfectly you fit with me."

with a fluid motion, emily lifted you effortlessly, placing you on the bed. you gazed up at her, feeling a familiar thrill as she towered over you, her presence both commanding and comforting. she straddled your waist, her long legs framing your body, and leaned down to kiss you, her lips capturing yours in a slow, passionate kiss that left you breathless.

she pulled back slightly, her eyes dark with desire. "you like it when i take control?" she asked, her voice a seductive whisper.

"yes," you breathed, your response immediate and sincere.

a smile curved her red lips as she pinned your wrists above your head, her grip firm but not painful. the weight of her body pressed against yours, a delicious reminder of her strength and dominance. she leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. "good," she whispered. "cus i love it too."

CAITLIN CLARK (nsfw)

 ⠀ ── ⠀caitlin never missed an opportunity to show you how small you are compared to her. whether it was easily pushing to the side or or lifting you up as if you weighed nothing, she reveled in the stark difference between your statures. it was a reminder of her strength and dominance, and you couldn't help but feel a thrill every time she did it.

caitlin's dominance showed in countless little ways, she loved wrapping an arm around your waist, guiding you through crowds with an ease that made you feel safe and protected. her height allowed her to effortlessly reach things on high shelves for you, a simple act that never failed to bring a smile to her face. she enjoyed playfully teasing you about your size, her comments always laced with affection.

caitlin's physicality was a constant presence, whether she was picking you up for a quick kiss or pulling you into her lap while watching a movie. she thrived on the power dynamic, finding joy in the way you responded to her strength. your smaller frame seemed to increase her confidence, making her feel both powerful and nurturing.

her protective nature extended beyond physical gestures. caitlin was always looking out for you, her sharp eyes and quick reflexes ensuring you were never in harm's way. she took pride in being your rock, someone you could rely on no matter the situation. this sense of security and trust deepened your bond, reinforcing the unique dynamic that defined your relationship.

in more intimate moments, caitlin's dominance took on a deeper, more intense form. she loved exploring the contrast between your bodies, the way her hands could easily envelop yours, her arms strong and reassuring around you. she loved watching your reactions, the way your breath hitched and your body shivered under her touch.

she placed you gently on the bed, her hands lingering on your hips as she leaned down to kiss you. the kiss was soft at first, but it quickly deepened, her lips moving against yours with a hunger that made your heart race.

caitlin pulled back, her eyes dark with desire as she looked down at you. "you're so perfect like this," she murmured, her hands sliding up your sides. "so small and delicate."

you shivered under her touch, the weight of her gaze making you feel both vulnerable and incredibly turned on. caitlin's hands were firm yet gentle as she pinned your wrists above your head, her body pressing against yours. the sensation of her strength holding you in place sent a wave of excitement through you.

"you like it when i take control, sweet girl?" she asked, her voice low and husky.

"yes," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

a satisfied smile spread across caitlin's face as she leaned down to kiss your neck, her lips leaving a trail of faint hickies in their wake. her hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and contour with a possessive hunger. she loved the way you responded to her touch, the way your body arched and trembled beneath her.

"so fucking pretty," she whispered against your skin, her voice full of adoration. "all for me."

her words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but moan softly in response. caitlin hands moved to your hips, gripping them firmly as she positioned herself between your legs. her fingers teased your entrance, you were practically dripping and caitlin loved it.

"so wet and i haven't even touched you yet, baby." she mumbled as she looked down at you, her lips quirked into a smirk.

her finger slipped into your sopping cunt as your head fell back in pure ecstasy. she added another finger, then another and you swore you've never felt more full in your life despite it just being her fingers.

"let go for me," she urged, her voice a soothing command. "wanna hear you."

with each thrust, the sensations built within you, your moans growing louder as you neared the edge. caitlin's touch was everywhere, her presence overwhelming and comforting all at once. you clung to her, your body responding to her in a way that was almost instinctual.

when you finally reached your peak, you cried out her name, your body shuddering with release. caitlin held you close, her strong arms wrapping around you as you came down from your high. she kissed your forehead, her lips gentle and tender against your skin.

"my sweet girl," she whispered, her voice filled with genuine affection. "i love you so much."

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

[perilusjax]

Dc x dp

Young adult Danny just calling various heroes nicknames not caring who they are

Constantine: Soul Sl#t, sad trench coat man, Mr stinks

Diana:Cool Lady, Ms. Diana, cousin, Favorite Hero

Green Lantern(s): Ring Pop, glowstick, Mr vomit,

Superman: captain underpants, Supes, crybaby, man weak to rock candy, Big Blue

Batman:Mr. Broody, Bats, Mr Knight, Leather D*ddy, B,

Note: u can add your own

[ghostbsuter]

"Excuse me?" Jazz's voice echoes in the meeting room in space. She gains the attention of the heroes immediately and sees them tensing up in at her appearance.

Behind her, he swirling green portal is open, waiting for her to return.

A blond, coat wearing man, curses upon seeing her and gives a half bow. "Princess Jasmine," he speaks up, eye twitching.

"What brings you here?"

At the greeting and reveal of her title, few others fall into bows, the lady at the head of the table, wonder woman?, gives her a smile.

Her eyes pin the green skinned man to his seat, who in return tilts his head at her.

"My brothers birthday is soon," she focuses on the man again. "I'm simply here for a present."

The man tenses, another curse slipping. "Ah– king phantom, right? I wasn't aware his birthday would be so soon."

Jazz ignores him, calmly walking to the Martian and placing a picture of Mars before him.

"The tales of your people have brought much interest to my brother. He became a big fan." She tells, sharing her intentions at his light poking.

"I ask for a signature, it would make his day."

Martian Manhunter, alien hero, and once upon a time, a father even smiles. He's delighted yet feeling a deep-rooted sadness. The tales of his people continue to spread in the afterlife, it seems.

Jazz leaves quickly after, not before giving Diana a number, they are cousins after all.

Danny will love her present.

[homage-to-errata]

From @tracedinairlwa's adorable fic Heartbeat, which you can read here! All writing is theirs, taken directly from the fic.

Thanks so much for all your diakko contributions, Trace. I have really enjoyed reading your work.

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXV)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Tim pulls a fast one on Batman for their mutual benefit. Everybody giggles. Danny goggles.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

(Additional TW: I think this counts as a panic attack ngl)

On the one hand. The room Danny’s in has a killer view of the earth from the moon.

The wall is basically just one big window. Danny is also apparently permitted to mash his face into the glass and ogle the Earth from Space for as long as he wants until the stinky dad, whoever he is, finally emerges from the depths of the building.

Diana’s the only one beside him today. She looks nice—nicer than usual, in her armor and bright clothing rather than soft scrubs and hair net. She can push his chair without getting tired—she could probably fly and carry him too, if she had to, so. Danny’s maybe counting on her liking him if this stinky dad tries to be mean.

So. Diana (nice lady) and Danny (half-dead ghost boy) are quietly seated in a dim, peaceful board room, absorbing the early morning (?) space radiation when the door hisses open across the room.

In the doorway is a long, dark, shadow of a man.

…And the green guy!!

Okay, if the stinky dad man brought a friend to this meeting the same way Diana’s meant to supervise him, Danny feels like he’s been lawyered up for the sake of some kind of court trial. This is not fair. Danny wasn’t able to review his case with his legal representation before this.

Well. Danny fumes. Whatever. His lawyer is Diana, the most powerful living being he’s seen ever in his life, and she can totally kick the green guy’s ass. Hell, Danny could probably kick the green guy’s ass.

...You know. If he wasn’t. Sick.

The stinky dad guy looks a lot like the blob his kid drew him as. That’s kind of neat—his suit is all black with little to no variation, which sort of just washes out the colors Danny might have been able to see if his eyes were still good. He’s very quiet, which is nice, and he’s very not-trying-to-read-Danny’s-mind, which is even better.

The two sit. Danny’s already in a wheelchair, so he just lets Diana wheel him to the table. The lady sits beside him in the spinny office chair.

Hello, the green guy opens with, already toying with the edges of Danny’s aura.

Danny sends back an abundance of ass-kicking emotions.

…Alright then, the green man capitulates, the barest hint of bemusement quickly stifled.

Good. Danny is mean. He’s awake enough to be mad about other people touching his aura from any end of his personal bubble.

But then the green guy…says stuff to the dad guy? And it’s very? Quiet?

Explanations, the green guy says. The image of a sign language translator at a baseball game floats over to him, and—

…Oh. He’s translating. For Danny.

That’s…nice? Nicer than Danny expected, honestly? Most of the time, people are perfectly happy to misinterpret him. It was kind of the way of the world at this point. Getting blamed for stuff, getting accused of stuff…

Man. If they turn out to be indoctrinating him for secret war purposes, at least they’re going all in. Danny might actually. You know. Like it here. A little.

He squirms in his chair, and tries not to look at anyone in particular. Diana—the lady who’s been nice to him—makes as if to straighten his hair for him, and remembers at the last second that he doesn’t like to be touched.

And sure. Danny doesn’t want to be touched. By bad guys.

…But Diana’s been really nice to him, so. Maybe. He scratches at the back of his neck, and ducks his head down—and remembers to use his words. “Yes,” he consents verbally. He can’t make eye contact. But he can…let her. Brush his hair back. A little.

Diana asks something long and complicated—and the green guy presses an image of Wonder Woman asking permission, being kind, being gentle­—up against the edges of Danny’s awareness.

Danny nods at the floor instead of at the lady. It’s fine. She’s fine. It’s fine.

And her fingers carefully brush through the front end of his fringe, and Danny. Danny is so normal about it. He doesn’t even cry or anything. Not even in front of his friend’s stinky dad.

And she doesn’t do it like Mom did it. And she doesn’t ruffle his hair like Dad did.

But it’s. Nice. And she doesn’t pull.

…And she doesn’t hit.

Danny eventually leans back into his wheelchair. It’s a little bit embarrassing to be halfway in and halfway out, but. Whatever. The scary-looking-dad with the earsies on his helmet has his own teenager. He should understand what it feels like to get emotionally weird with your teen in a public place. If he doesn’t, well...he wouldn’t be a great dad, then, and his opinion would suck anyway.

Based on what Danny knows about the masked kid, Danny isn’t sure the guy would tolerate a bad dad. The teen seems kinda unhinged.

The man says something, and the green guy presses a number of translated feelings against Danny’s awareness: Greetings. Questions about Danny’s wellbeing. Curiosity, but not demanding.

“…Hello,” Danny says back, and. Waves.

The man waves back. He’s got little claws on his gloves.

…Like a cat? Is it to go with his ears? Danny wonders about the possibilities of the guy being cat themed. It’s possible, presumably.

So…they want to know how Danny’s doing? Danny shrugs, and he glances at Diana, since, you know, she could probably fill them in? She does speak their language. And she’s been here the whole time.

The lady leans in close to him, black hair falling out from behind her ear. “What do you want to say?” she whispers into her ear, hand covering her mouth from their watchers.

Uh. It’s up to…Danny?? Somehow??

Danny winces. “…Good?” he tries, unsure if the word he uses means okay or fine or well. “…Not…hungry?”

“Very good,” Diana agrees, a little louder. She looks proud. Being not hungry must mean a lot to her, then. It means a lot to Danny too—he can remember the sensation of his stomach rubbing against itself, friction pulling raw at his insides as acid ate at him.

It was. Bad.

It was bad.

Danny’s glad he’s not there anymore. Anyway, there’s a guy in the room who reads minds, and Danny doesn’t really want to share that memory with anyone ever; especially someone who could turn it back on him.

The stinky dad says something else, but he uses words too thick and long for Danny to understand. The green guy translates, pure conceptual recall brushing against Danny’s outer aura—Needs? Wants?

…Danny frowns.

Danny looks at Diana, who looks back at him. Wants, needs…? What?

“Do you need aniþing?” Diana whispers to him, which. You know. Mostly makes sense.

Does Danny…need anything? He has medical care, he has food, he has water, he has toys and brain teasers, even…he has people to hang out with, he has people who stretch his legs with him so that he can go back to normal…heck, he doesn’t even have to clean his own waste bag. There’s people who do that for him.

Like. What more could Danny ask for?

Danny shrugs. He just wants to heal up and run away. Maybe…maybe, if Diana is real and not just pretending to like him to keep an eye on him, she’d let him visit her later or something. Danny would do what Dani doe—did. What Dani…did. And he’d just go a bunch of places and come back when he wants to.

But. No. There’s nothing he really needs right now.

The pointy-eared guy and the green guy share a look and a couple quiet words. Danny flares his annoyance into the silence, but all he gets is a silent Apology/Apology, which isn’t answers.

Ugh. Danny leans over the arm of his wheelchair. This is kind of super boring; it’s more boring than it is frustrating, even.

The stinky dad guy says something else, and Danny feels the push and pull of something double ended tugging on the outer edge of his aura. Additional/information, giving/take?

Danny really wishes he’d brought a fidget toy or something. His nerves are ramping up but all he can do is contort his fingers together, feeling the strain in and the joints click as he pushes them together and twists them apart. They want…to ask him questions? No, they’re already asking him questions. They want Danny to…give them questions??

…Danny doesn’t really want to. Still, he probably…should.

“The…space station,” he says, using the wrong word for their big space building but not knowing the better one; “Is this…where…why is it?”

The black-caped dad grumbles something vaguely approving. A tablet pops out of the table—spooky—and the guy starts drawing on it, explaining all the way. The green guy simplifies more of the verbally complicated concepts for Danny as they go.

Anyway. So they’re in space because it’s their…job? Danny thinks? They do…fighting stuff. Which Danny knew. Because he’d seen them on the news.

But it looks like they do a lot of things—they clean up after storms, and chase regular bad guys and super-bad-guys instead of just big ones. And they stop bad aliens from hurting people on Earth.

The green guy shifts from a green-looking, pointy-headed, red-eyed form to a warm, brown, human skin tone. And even. Like. Human clothing.

Danny stares.

…And the guy immediately takes back his natural form, his body physically shifting and morphing, which, fair, but holy crap. He’s living, on Earth. He passes as normal, on Earth. No one snitches on him. No one’s selling him to the government for parts. No one’s trapping him in a cage and not feeding him.

This guy works here, and everyone lets him.

Danny shifts in his chair. He…he wants that. He wants that. He wants to pass as human and not have to worry about…about anyone getting rid of him. He wants to go back to school. He wants to hide, and never ever not ever be found by anyone or anything when he does.

“I want that,” Danny says. There’s no inflection. He feels dead. He is dead, but usually he doesn’t feel it. “What do I do for…that.”

Help/Searching/Finding? the green—alien—questions, but there’s nothing for Danny to find. He knows exactly where everyone he loves is—and unless they’re already fully formed in the ghost zone…

…Well. Danny has forever to wait and see if he’ll see his friends and sister again. Maybe he’ll find them again one day, in a world purely green and glowing.

He shakes his head.

The next question comes…softer. Gentler. The mental push feels more like a breeze than a gale. Friends…Home/family?

The question comes tinged with all sorts of sensations that Danny’s suppressed—warmth, security, happiness, oxytocin, fondness, pride and being the source thereof, warmth and love, love, love—

Danny’s sweating. He can’t stop. His hands are shaking faster than usual—he kicks the brakes off his chair with the heels of his palms, and jerks the wheels back, pulling away from the desk—

He’s halfway across the room before he hears the noise. It’s just. Noise. It’s Diana, carefully shushing the loud heartbeat churning in his ears, hands on his hand, trying not to cage him but trying to keep skin on skin contact. Her hand is on the back of his hand, and on his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Diana whispers. Danny’s shaking. His whole body is shaking. “Shhh, sh sh sh. It’s alright, it’s okay.”

It’s not it’s not it’snoit’snotit’sNOT. His sister is dead. His friends are dead. His parents sold his captors the equipment to catch him and they didn’t care if he got hurt doing it and now they’re DEAD. They tore open his hometown down the middle just to catch him, they stole him—they took his dead parent’s things as tools to hurt him—they HURT HIM and there isn’t—he can’t—he can’t—

Something is holding him down, and Danny thrashes. He has arms, but they’re injured—he has legs but he needs a tail and he—and—

He cries into Diana’s arms, sobbing and wailing. It’s a miracle that the building stays together. She holds him tighter, and he cries even harder into her soft under-layers.

He wants to run away. He needs to run away. Someone is holding him, and he can’t even flicker through her the way he wants to; his core is already too strained just from talking.

Danny’s sick. He’s dying. He’s—

“Take a breath,” Diana whispers, calm and sure. She models it for him. Danny gasps in air. “Good. Lete it out slow. As bobbels in a straw.”

He tries to copy her he does and she’ll be so angry if he can’t do it right on the first try but she lets him try, over and over again, until Danny’s able to stop hiccupping and leaking tears and ectoplasm all over her and realize that she’s holding him like a baby. Like. Actually cradling him against his body armor.

…You know what. He’s too tired to even be embarrassed. Screw that. Danny leans all the way over her and goes completely limp. Someone else can deal with his him for a little bit.

She does. Diana just…holds him.

It’s nice. Mom and Dad used to do that for him, when Danny was still…more human, he supposed. More than he is right now.

Something else touches his hand. Danny looks blearily downwards.

The teenager’s dad gets to his knees and takes Danny’s hand—and he doesn’t need the translation to understand.

“I’m sorry,” the man says, over and over again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Danny blinks sleepily. What does his friend’s stinky dad have to be sorry for? He didn’t even do anything to Danny in the first place.

Danny won’t remember, afterwards, being wheeled back to his room for a nap. They must have wheeled him back, though, because the alternative is that Diana tucked him into bed like a baby, and that’s just kind of embarrassing to even think about for too long.

[pbnbucks]

word count : 510

warnings : smut, alcohol consumption, cussing

summary : diana comes home drunk and horny

you were laying back in your bed as your wife Diana was out partying with her team celebrating the win for the teams WNBA championship.

as brittney texted you saying they where going to drop Diana off, as she was the one person who drank before 7 pm as it was only 9 pm as the knock on the door grows louder with the whining of Diana fills the outside of your house.

you open the door as Diana throws herself on to you as shes being held up by brittney’s long arm as you give her a tight lipped thank you as you close the door as you feel wet kisses being placed on you neck with a bunch of mumbles “so pretty mama” she coos playing with your waistband trying to maneuver your pants off but you push her hands away making her whine

“Diana im not going to fuck you your drunk” you force the words to leave your mouth but your bodys begging for her touch “yea yea save the speach for later” she retorts with a grin as you raise an eyebrow as she throws your panties leaving your lower body bare as the cold air hits your slick

“open your legs, i wanna see you” she whines now that shes laying on top of you on the love seat. “so beautiful” she coos as her head dips in between your legs parting them farther from each other as her tongue attacks your clit at an instance leaving you a moaning mess as her tongue slides up and down your sensitive clit.

her tongue teasingly slips in and out of your hole as she licks up your slick folds. “oh shit” you cry out as her hands fly to your breast grasping them in her hands as her head digs deeper into your cunt. your hips grind against her tongue as her smile grows from ear to ear.

“wanna ruin you so bad” diana growls out bringing her middle and ring finger up to your cunt sliding in and out of you. her skilled hands knowing every curve of your body, her tongue flipping against your clit as small cry’s come from mouth while diana’s need for you growing with each small thrust with her skilled fingers.

“so fucking hot” she coos splurging her tongue in every crevice of your folds as wet noises fall from your drenched clit. “Diana- so fucking good” you choked out as dianas fingers begin to bend in your stomach slamming in to your g spot.

the familiar knot builds up in your stomach threatening your release making your vision blur as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“deep breaths baby” Diana muttered as your cum spills on to her lips licking every last bit of your liquids she can get, coming up placing a sweet and soft kiss on your lips tasting yourself on her tongue. “did such a good job” Diana says placing her lips back on your swollen ones moaning in to the kiss.

[diana-rose-25]

★*☆ Eugh, As If

pairing/s: Sirius Black x Evans! Reader

warnings: Severus Snape.

description: The younger sister of Lily Evans takes revenge for her when slimy old Snape betrays her and calls her a mudblood. Sirius wants to marry her now.

status: unedited

word count: 5.2k

Note: I word vomitted.

“You think Potter will ever stop with his shenanigans in getting Lily to fall in love with him?”

Dorcas leans back while biting on the toast to look at the entrance of the dining hall, watching Potter try to stand tall and cool in front of the woman he fancies, and failing miserably.

It’s no secret that James Potter is one of the most sought out bachelor in the school, maybe even the Wizarding World, and he fucking knows it. When one is constantly praised for everything he does, have the ground he walks on practically worship, a star player in Quiddich, comes from a prominent family, insanely wealthy, and, there is no denying it, a handsome lad; one while develop a massive ego.

James Potter knows he is the shit. He is not only gifted in the athletic aspect, he can also hold himself well in the academic aspect.

Strutting around the school like a peacock, as if he runs the school, and maybe he looks like it from the swooning glances he gets from the ladies and the envious looks from the guys. With his charming smile, messy hair that compliments his features, and laid back attitude, James Potter can attract anyone and everyone.

Well, anyone but the one he wants.

Dorcas and Marlene sighs at the sad, and almost pathetic efforts to woo their friend. While James is trying his best to appear cool and composed, they know the young man well enough that his palms is sweating by the way he brushes them in his trousers, his stance is somewhat off by the ways he’s constantly shifting his weight from side to side, the way he constantly brushes his hair back, and if they squint closely, they can see how the corners of his lips are shaking in his smile.

Meanwhile, Lily Evans could care less. Despite her look being indifferent and the way she nods her head from time to time, she has this far away look in her eyes. Dorcas and Marlene shares a concerned look, if the rumors are true, then that event from yesterday and last night are the cause of it.

Lily then made an excuse from the looks of it before walking away towards them and James looking surprised. It’s the first time that Lily actually made a civil excuse to get away from his attempt at making a conversation rather than cussing him out and walking away.

Dorcas hummed, tearing away her look once she sees Lily walking towards their seat to look at Marlene. “You think she knows?”

“Only way to find out is when she walks through that door,” Marlene replies before sipping on her tea. As if she’s summoned, (Y/N) walks into the dining hall right after Lily takes her seat beside Dorcas who rubs a hand on her back comfortingly.

“Oooh, she definitely knows something,” Marlene smirks in her cup.

Lily and (Y/N) couldn’t be any more different from each other despite being twins, well, fraternal twins. Although the twins share those deep, forest green eyes, and a few quirks and mannerisms, everything else couldn’t be anymore different.

Lily is known for her famous, shiny, flaming red locks with a matching extroverted fiery personality, a beautiful stars of prominent freckles painted all over her face and body, always with her big group of female friends wherever she goes and is academically competitive. An overachiever honor student. Hence, joining a few orgs that catches her interest to broaden her horizon in the Wizarding World. Lily Evans is unafraid to speak what’s on her mind and call people out on their bullshit, earning her the title of the Gryffindor Princess.

Unlike her older sister, (Y/N)’s hair does not command the attention of the room upon entering. Although it’s still beautiful on its own way, being pitch black even when the sun hits her hair. She also sports freckles on her face, not as noticeable and its only littered around her nose, cheeks, and a little on the chin. (Y/N) mostly keeps to herself but enjoys the company of her two friends, Pandora and Elisia. She’s not as intense in academics, but still impressive as she only falls right behind her sister, being number 2 in their whole year. (Y/N) is more mellow compared to her sister, though still sporting that fiery temper but is rarely shown and more controlled. That doesn’t mean she can’t show her blatant dislike for her someone, her face says everything without uttering a single word.

The two sisters couldn’t be any more different physical and personality wise, yet are the most desirable bachelorette in the castle to both muggle born and purebloods (they will never admit it publicly other than a few friends).

You would think that between the two of them, Lily is the most terrifying. But if you ask Lily Evans herself, she would only smile at you and say: “you have no idea.”

James instinctively raised his arms and swiftly moves aside before (Y/N) crashes to him by the way she walks. The woman usually sports her rbf (resting bitch face) which is often mistaken as annoyed or indifferent, but her face is now devoid of any emotion. Like suppressing a fire beneath the exterior. The only evident clue about her burning rage is her body language, the frown on her lips, and her clenched jaw. None of her admirers dares to approach or even bother her once she sits down beside Pandora on the Ravenclaw table.

“Isn’t she a part of the dueling org? And she’s with you, right?” Marlene nods at Dorcas’ question. “And there is a compulsory meeting this afternoon to welcome new comers?”

“Who are you talking about?” Lily asks with a bit of her toast, getting her answer when Marlene nods her head towards her twins’ direction.

“Yeah, there is, what about it?”

Dorcas shrugs her shoulders, sneaking a glance towards Ravenclaw’s way. Noting the way (Y/N) had a fist resting on her cheek with her elbow propped on the table, blowing on her coffee before taking a sip, face still visibly annoyed.

“Can non members watch later?”

~~~

“Think Snivellus’ll show up his face today?” Sirius jumps towards James’ back, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as they walk towards the Dueling Org’s room.

James scoffs, “better not or its on sight.”

The pair followed the clump of first year students who are taking their time ogling at the wide infrastructure of the room. The walls are lined with ceiling to floor windows, craved with different magical creatures ranging from the tiny fairies to the huge dragons seemingly soaring through the sky. In the middle of the room, four pairs of tables are assembled together to create a stage where practice spells are demonstrated and duels will commence.

Students are idly chatting around the tables, the first years almost bouncing around excitedly from the front whilst the older years can feel their nerves shake from the building adrenaline the more they wait. Having the compulsory meeting as a welcome to new new members means having the chance to be picked in a duel demonstration.

Professor Flitwick and Professor Slughorn stands on the make believe stage of the room, talking amongst themselves and another student. Sirius Black smirks upon seeing her figure from beside the professors, taking notes in whatever they are talking about. Sirius taps James’ chest to direct his attention towards (Y/N). The two of them share a knowing smirk before walking towards where she is.

(Y/N) had barely touch a foot down to the ground when she hears the annoying voice of a certain, older Black.

“How is my favorite Evans doing today?”

She could feel a headache forming earlier today, it turns worse when she saw the infuriating grins by what she calls the Dumb and Dumber Duo. There in front of her stands James Potter and Sirius Black, shoulder to shoulder with arms crossed against their chests, a playful gleam in their eyes as they peer down at her.

She sighs and rolls their eyes at them, before turning her back against them and looking through the notes she just made. “What do you idiots want now?”

“Can’t I just approach my favorite sister-in-law for no reason?” James playfully pouts, approaching her side and wrapping an arm around her which earned him a hard shove against his chest that has him wheezing on impact.

“Eugh. As if.”

“Oh come on now, Sweetie Pie,” (Y/N)’s face scrunches up in disgust when she feels a breath on the other side of her face and her hair getting twirled around a finger. Sirius shot her a playful wink and smile when she slaps his hand away and takes two steps back, his proximity is too close to her liking.

“Didn’t I already tell you not to call me that?” Sirius tilts his head in confusion, smile still on his face, “did you?”

“Yes, I did you mongrel,” (Y/N) says with a roll of her eyes. “I’ve told you countless of times already.”

“Really?” The tall man mocks, placing his pointer finger and thumb on his chin and looks up, painting himself to be thinking of a deep thought.

“Hm, I don’t remember. Mate, you remember anything about (Y/N) Evans telling me to stop calling her Sweetie Pie, Honeybunch, Sugar Pie, Light of my Life, Apple of my Eye, Baby Babe, and Darling Princess?”

(Y/N)’s eye and fingers twitches at the sheer audacity of the man in front of her, her grip on her pen tightening to the verge of snapping when James skips to Sirius’ side with a faux, innocent wide eyes.

“Really? She said that? When?”

James mirrors Sirius’ pose, the duo somehow forming an innocent aura around the two of them. To the first years, it seems like two men deep in their thoughts, to those who knows better, the two idiotic duo are up to something again.

(Y/N) is one of the people who knows better. Yet before she can conjure up her wand to send a stinging spell their way. Professor Slughorn calls everybody’s attention to the front to start the introduction.

Sirius stuck himself to her side whilst James positions himself to his other side, hoping to catch a glimpse of Severus and send a certain finger his way.

The other first years and new members flocked themselves to the front, squeezing themselves together as much as they can to listen eagerly and get the best view. Unknowingly shoving the three sixth years together until their shoulders press together.

It might be a sharp quill or paper, but something stung (Y/N) on her arm causing her to let out a low hiss and instinctively pull it away, all without looking at the perpetuator.

Sirius looks down at her, brows furrowing when he catches her pull her arm away and the eager first years once again pushing themselves and crowding the front row.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He calls out loudly, taking (Y/N)’s shoulder and pushing her against his side whilst he holds the other arm out towards the first years. The small crowd looks at him with slight fear in their eyes at the strict tone of his voice and freezes in their feet.

“Stop pushing guys,” he reprimands. “I assure you all will see and hear everything, but let’s avoid an accident by not pushing and let’s make some space, yeah?”

Sirius shoots them a charming smile as he uses his hand to motion a push to create some space. As if activating his Black Charm, the girls swooned at his strong and charming appeal and immediately listened to him, taking a few steps back while keeping their eyes at him. Emitting girlish giggles while the boys scoffs and turns their heads away, still following them nonetheless.

(Y/N)’s eyes widens at how effective and fast Sirius can make the crowd listen to him, she almost finds it admirable. She gently pushes herself away from him and looks up at him with an impressed look.

“Thanks,” she says before looking at the front again. “Not bad, Black.”

Stunned, Sirius’ eyes widens at her acknowledgement of him. She rarely, or him ever, compliments him on anything. Although he had never done anything worth complimenting before. He made a happy sound at her, eyes almost disappearing at how large grin makes its way in his face. There’s a bounce in his step when he turns his direction to Professor Slughorn again. This time, he stands more taller with his posture straight and chin tilted upwards, a small, proud smile still on his face.

James looks at his mate with a playful scoff before shaking his head, finding the situation all too amusing. Unaware that he acts a lot more worse with Lily, and she doesn’t even acknowledge his presence most of the time other than calling him out on his bullshit.

The meeting continues on with discussing the rules, attendance, and basic etiquettes of dueling. The long lecture already had some of the older years almost dozing off due to boredom as they have had this discussion before. James falls victim to that boredom, opening his mouth widely to yawn without any sound and shaking his head to shake away his tiredness.

Sirius, on the other hand, is having the time of his life by constantly teasing the younger Evans beside him, poking her constantly and unnecessarily commenting to her about anything and everything. He only stops momentarily when (Y/N) pinches his arm so hard that he had to stick himself to James’ side, rubbing the wounded area before talking (Y/N)’s ears off after the pain disappeared. (It was bruised when he checked.)

“Now,” Professor Slughorn claps his hands once, effectively gaining the attention of everyone, including those who are in the midst of dozing off.

“Now that the rules and regulations are stated, I do hope you all take it seriously and to heart. After all, punishments are not to be taken lightly.”

“To formally start off the welcoming ceremony of the Dueling Club,” the older students perk up at Professor Flitwick’s insinuation. James, Sirius, and (Y/N)’s back straightens, feeling their fingers twitch in anticipation. “Professor Slughorn and I will choose students from the older years to give you a glimpse of a proper duel.”

The older students starts whispering excitedly, some playfully raising their hands in hopes that they will be picked while some try to turn their heads away to avoid being seen. James and Sirius holds their head up high, if the professors want to show the new comers some entertainment, it is in their best option to pick them two. If it’s a show they want, then it’s a show they’ll get.

Professor Slughorn and Professor Flitwick whispered amongst themselves before nodding and walking to the other ends of the stage, anticipation and excitement fills the air once they face the students.

“From my house,” Professor Slughorn starts, “I would like to call upon Mr. Severus Snape as one of the students for demonstration.”

Giggles and small laughter can be heard in the room, the heads around Snape’s area turn to look at him with proud smiles and pats on his shoulders. Of course the idiot will surround himself with the other posies after yesterday’s event. They are the only ones left who will so much as talk to him.

James, Sirius, and (Y/N)’s eyes narrows, shooting stabbing glare towards Snape’s direction as her climbs up the stage and proceeds to where Professor Slughorn is standing. The older man clasps his shoulder and wished him a silent good luck.

“If Professor Flitwick picks me, I’ll make sure to end this lesson with him bald to put an end to his greasy monstrosity of a hair.” James says, crossing his arms while not tearing his gaze away from the Slytherin boy in front.

“Oh please, you’ll be just doing us a small favor.” (Y/N) scoffs, “I don’t think his hair is the only greasy thing about him.”

“I bet you, he’s never heard of a body exfoliator and wash cloth before.” Sirius adds, lips twisted downwards as they continue to stare daggers at him. “I don’t think he even knows what a regular shower is.”

The three chuckled darkly before Professor Flitwick calls upon one of them.

“In that case, I will pick out someone from my house as well. Ah, Miss (Y/N) Evans, would you kindly join us?”

“Certainly professor,” (Y/N) replies with a smirk and a wicked gleam in her eyes before quickly masking it with a beam and wide eyes. She immediately walks up the stage, head high and shoulders squared, causing the young boys and girls to awe in the confident aura she’s portraying.

Throughout the years, Severus Snape gained more confidence for himself, getting acknowledge and praised for his growing mastery at potions, and surrounding himself with fellow Slytherins with the same aspirations in life. His friendship with Lily really helped him out throughout all the unfavorable events that happened to him, and although he should also be friends with (Y/N) by extension since they all grew up together, they never really clicked but remained civil.

(Y/N) had always kept her mouth shut about her opinions on Severus Snape in respect towards Lily. She never understood why Lily would befriend him when he does, and is still doing questionable things, and his whole vibe is off. Her older sister was protective of their friendship, even once not talking for a week when (Y/N) said she refuses to be in the same room as him without her. It was one of the hardest week of her life. Ever since then, she never brought him up to anything ever again unless Lily started it.

However, due to him calling her a mudblood yesterday, the unspoken civilized rule between the two of them shattered.

Severus Snape never thought he would experience so much fear just by looking at someone’s eyes. There was ringing on his ears and sweat starting to form on his forehead, he grips his wand for some sort of comfort with a shaky hand while trying to maintain eye contact with her.

He doesn’t know why he’s so terrified, (Y/N) is just standing in front of him with arms crossed over her chest with her head tilting down to hear what Professor Flitwick is talking about. She nods her head from time to time but her face remains devoid of any emotion and green eyes are still burning deep to his soul. Snape gulps down, praying to whoever is out there that no one can see how difficult it is to hide how terrified he is right now.

It’s just (Y/N), he never has to worry around her before. Besides, she’s not much of a duelist and he’s probably better than her. She can hold her own but nothing special nor spectacular about the way she duels. She’s lost more than won duels from last year. Snape shakes his head and rolls his head around to release the tension, it’s just her look that’s making him terrified. Yes, that’s right, he soothes himself, I’ll be fine. He’s a better duelist than (Y/N) will ever be.

A sigh of relief escapes his lips before quirking up to an arrogant smirk. His posture changes, from his shoulders slightly hunch back, chin tucked on his chest causing his disgusting greasy hair to cover his face, to standing tall with an overconfident aura about him, sporting a nasty smile that almost looks like a grimace.

It’s just (Y/N) , what could happen? Snape thought, now casually twirling his wand around.

Sirius and James noticed the shift within Snape from their view. They grit their teeth in annoyance and worry about their friend (at least, they consider her as one, they don’t know if she considers them as one). Sirius feels his fingers twitch, wanting nothing more to take his wand out and blast the ever living shit out of the man to snap him out of his arrogant stance.

“We ought to teach him a lesson,” James says through gritted teeth, Sirius only hums in response.

Professor Flitwick was saying something to the class, but Sirius couldn’t hear anything that comes out of his mouth. He looks at where (Y/N) is standing, he’ll say that he’s surprised, but he honestly expected it.

(Y/N) remains the same, except this time, she had her head tilting downwards as she stares at Snape through her lashes with lidded eyes, a reminiscent of a taunting snake. Sirius let’s out an impressed noise, he’s 100% sure that if she wasn’t sorted into Ravenclaw, she would have perfectly fit in with Slytherin house.

Sixth year students know that (Y/N) is not the best duelist out there, but Sirius can’t help but feel that there is nothing to worry about. He hums as he crosses his arms against his chest, still looking at her when the two of them starts walking towards the center of the stage, wands in front of their faces in customary respect to formally start the duel.

James looks at him, stunned at the laid-back demeanor of his best friend. He taps him on the chest, “mate, why do you look like that? Your crush is over there about to have a duel with that git.”

“Relax, James,” Sirius glances at him briefly before looking at her again, the smirk still on his face. “Just watch.”

Five paces apart, now the two are facing each other with wands drawn. Snape smirks, opening his mouth to conjure up his spell, “confringo!”

“Protego!” (Y/N) let’s out instantly, effectively blocking the spell with a wave of her arm. The way she projects the shield spell causes a ripple effect, making Snape stagger back before regaining his footing while she remains the same.

Snape’s eyes widens at the force of the spell. She didn’t even use Protego Maxima to project that kind of ripple effect. It was just a simple spell, Snape gulps, but why the hell was it so strong? Enraged, Snape grits his teeth holding onto his wand tightly before swinging his arm and shoots another spell. “Everte Statum!”

(Y/N) successfully blocks the spell without moving an inch. The nonchalant attitude of hers rubs Snape off the wrong way, further frustrating him. He then sends spell after spell after her, his adrenaline getting the best of him as he hurls his arm left and right while taking step forward after each step. His face contouring, not bothering to hide his frustration anymore.

Professor Flitwick sees this, and calls him out, “easy on the spells Mr. Snape! This is just a demonstration.”

The younger crowd watch in awe at the display of magic, witnessing the how much potential possibilities they have with the use of magic. They watch with eager eyes at the colorful display of cells Snape lets out from his wand and how flawlessly it is counteract by (Y/N). His group of friends continues to cheer him on and constantly belittling her calling her names, shuting up only when Professor Slughorn called by out and someone sending a stinging jinx at them. All of them had to exit the room immediately to head on to the infirmary room.

Sirius continues to glare daggers at Snape, his fingers gripping tightly into his arm as he watches (Y/N) continuously blocking spells but not doing anything to counter back. He gnaws on the bottom of his lip, wondering what the hell is your plan? Do you even have one?

Gusts of wind blows (Y/N)’s hair back as she continues to counter spell. It’s beginning to tire her arm out, and frankly, it was starting to bore her. The force of a spell causes her to momentarily stumble back, and that distraction is all Snape needs. ”Mimblewimble!”

Gasps echo around the room as they witness (Y/N) recoil back from the force of the spell, sending her straight to the floor with her back first, effectively punching the air off of her.

James and Sirius let out a shout of concern an disbelief, immediately running to the side of the stage. James had to hold on to Sirius’ sleeve to prevent him from jumping up. Shouting out strings of curses that shocked the first years and reprimanded by Professor Flitwick who’s tending to his student.

“Watch your mouths Mr. Potter and Mr. Black!” He scolds before turning his attention to his student, who is now shaking her head, arms and elbows on the side of her as she props up her body on the floor. “Are you well Ms. Evans? Can you stand?”

(Y/N) cracks her neck to the side before opening her mouth to answer her professor, but nothing coherent escapes her lips. The Mimblewimble spell ties the targets tongue in a knot, preventing them from making a coherent speech, or saying incantations correctly.

She clicks her tongue in annoyance, standing up after nodding to the head of her house, signaling that she is fine and is still able to duel. She made a show of dusting her skirt a cloak, then making her way towards the center of the stage once again.

Snape looks rather pleased with himself, much to the annoyance of James and Sirius. If looks could kill, the Slytherin would be dead from the moment he set foot on stage.

“Wands at the ready!” Professor Slughorn says, the two students immediately had their wands up, waiting for the signal. A beat has passed, then two. “Begin!”

“Immo-” Snape could himself ascend from the ground before he can even finish talking.

Wordlessly, (Y/N) blasted him a spell that sent him flying out the ground. A shout escapes his lips until his body roughly slams down to the ground with a loud thud. A sound of ‘oohh’ escapes most of the audience while James and Sirius lets out a victorious ‘yeah!’

It takes a few seconds for Snape to snap out of it, tapping Professor Slughorn’s arm when the former offered his hand out to help. To say that Snape is completely taken aback is an understatement, because how the hell did (Y/N) know how to use wordless magic before him? That requires intense concentration, skill, and proper technique.

A muggleborn besting him at something? And humiliating him in front of everybody in this room? No, that is not acceptable.

Snape’s face contorts again into that ugly face he likes to show as he sends furious spell after spell again after the signal. However, unlike the beginning, (Y/N) didn’t only counter spells, she also started sending one of her down.

Students watch in awe at the two who looks like they are fencing with the way they both take steps forward and back, symbolic of a dangerous dance the two are tangled in. The new-comers think that these are the two most eloquent and dangerous students in the org. However, older students will tell you that this is the first time someone lasts this long in a wordless duel, let alone a sixth-year student. A pretty impressive feat that not even older witches and wizards have mastered, yet alone confident enough to perform it.

Here is (Y/N) Evans, going from a mediocre duelist to being one of the best in school. A muggle born who struggles to think and recite spells during duels is now blasting magic left and right as if it was as easy as breathing. No word or sound escapes her as she continues shooting spells left and right before ending the duel.

“Yeah! Yeah! Kick his ass!” Marlene and Dorothy shouts from the back.

(Y/N)’s lets out a jet of water, not enough to take Snape down but enough to push him back and lose balance. His mouth then starts bubbling up with soap as she uses scourgify (to which James and Sirius laughs loudly at) before bandages wraps itself around the head out of thin air, effectively blinding him and covering his mouth. Snape’s hand went to his face in a panic to claw the bandages away from his face and spit out the putrid taste of soap in his mouth, yet he is unable to when (Y/N) turns her body to gain momentum for the spell, throws her wand out, sends the final blow, immobilizing him and sending his paralyzed form down the ground.

His body falls down the floor with a thud. The room is silent, then booming cheers fills the room.

(Y/N) hums at the sight of Severus Snape on the ground, now currently being tended to by Professor Slughorn who is undoing the effects of her spells. She twirls her wand around her finger twice before tucking it into her pocket, then facing the crowd with a grin and curtsying for them.

Professor Flitwick claps his hand, congratulating his student with a tap on her hand. “Well done my dear! I see you’ve been working on what I taught you. Hurry along now to Madame Pomfrey, get that spell of yours fixed with an antidote.”

The said girl hums and nods her head in agreement before bouncing down the steps, feeling much more better and preppy than this morning.

(Y/N) meets the awestruck faces of James and Sirius whose jaws are open in shock along her way, shooting them a teasing smirk and a wink. She pass by them with an air of arrogance she rarely sports, but she’s proud of herself this time. Basking in the attention of heads turning towards her with stars and envy in their eyes.

They continue watching the girl as she walks towards the door with a bounce on her step, hands out in a girly way, and hips subtly swaying from side to side with the crowd parting their way for her.

James feels a shiver down his spine as he witness the raw power and skill she has. Now all too aware that she can kick his ass anytime if he ever pushes her or her sister again. “I’m gonna be nice to her now.”

“Yeah? You do that,” James turns his attention to his best mate. Rolling his eyes at the love struck gaze he still holds after the woman exits through the door, eyes still fixated on it.

“I’m gonna marry her.”

note: idk why, I sat down for three days straight and started writing this. It's originally a series, but I don't know if you guys would like it.

[blackbatofel]

I just finished my reread of JLA: Tower of Babel and frankly, I'm surprised by the lack of Superbat fics about this plotline. I mean, it's the perfect setting for all the Superbat angst you could dream of.

How everyone keeps pointing out that Supes is the one closest to Batman, Clark emphatically referring to what happened as "your betrayal", how Bruce's files are cold and professional about everyone EXCEPT Clark (his fear of seeing him in pain), his guilt, how everyone else is loud and angry but Clark is silent and hurt, the fact Clark gave him the kryptonite in the first place. Clark having the final say and voting Bruce out of the League. Bruce KNOWING that he would do that and leaving because he didn't want to hear it.

The confrontation on Divided We Fall with all the accusations and the obvious hurt on both sides... then the agreement to reveal their identities together.

Tell me this wouldn't be an excellent break up/getting back together fic? The hurt/comfort of all times. If someone doesn't write this soon, I might have to.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Reclaiming What Was Lost (Part 13)

Previous | Masterpost | Next

“Will you come up to the roof with me?” Dick asked softly, he’d pulled Jason aside once the Teen Titans filtered out to head home, Tim and Ellie had lingered a bit longer to hug their family members, but even they had left now. “There’s someone else who’d like to talk to you, if you’re up to it?”

Danny was there in a flash, sometimes Jason forgot about Danny’s enhanced hearing until moments like this when he leaned against Jason’s shoulder and half glared at Dick. “Who is it?” He demanded to know suspiciously, Dick looked startled. 

“Oh, it’s…” He glanced back and forth between the two of them. He’d probably wanted to talk to Jason alone and underestimated the extent to which the two of them didn’t do anything alone at this point. At least not without prior discussion and, usually, having a tracker on each other. “Diana was hoping to see you again.”

Jason’s breathing caught in his throat and stopped entirely for a long moment. Danny looked up at him worriedly, pressing impossibly closer and giving a questioning little trill. “Jason?” He prompted softly. Jason shook his head, trying to knock himself out of his stupor, it didn’t particularly work but at least he was breathing again. He had been both hoping for and dreading this, and now that it was happening he didn’t know what to do.

“Jay, I don’t think she’s mad,” Dick said softly, stepping a little closer and resting a hand on his arm, ignoring or not noticing Danny’s little growl when he stepped into their space. “She doesn’t have a no killing rule like B. She is… upset, but I think it’s because of what happened to you, not because of anything you did, or being disappointed in you.”

“I hope so, because I don’t think I could stand her being disappointed in me.” Jason meant it to be a joke, but it came out far too raw. He took a deep breath, rolled his shoulders, and nodded. “I’ll come,” He agreed, shaking out his arms and drawing on what determination he could.

“Can I come,” Danny asked softly, still tucked against Jason’s side, looking up at him with puppy-dog eyes Jason thought were probably unintentional. He didn’t mean to pressure Jason into letting him come, he just wanted to be there to help in any way he could.

“Yes, you can come. Just.. let me handle it okay? Unless she attacks me I guess-”

“She won’t!” Dick put in, shocked at the suggestion. 

“Right,” Jason said, nodding again. “But unless she does, just hang back and let us talk,” He told Danny gently. 

“Alright,” Danny said. It might be just a little bit of a struggle for him because he was used to jumping in when Jason was struggling to express his feelings, but Jason believed that he would do it. Unless Jason asked Danny to, so he’d just have to resist doing that impulsively if things got hard. Danny was good at expressing Jason’s feelings for him, but Jason didn’t want to rely on Danny for this, especially because he didn’t know the history between Jason and Diana.

“Alright, she’s waiting for us now. She has been for a bit but I didn’t want to break up the party and she said she’d wait as long as we needed. I know she was always your hero Jay, but she cared about you too,” Dick encouraged, before leading the way up to the roof. The stair to the roof access had never felt so long to Jason, he was glad to have Danny right behind him or he might have turned back.

Jason hesitated in the doorway when he saw Diana’s outline, sitting on the edge of the roof with her back to them, her long curly hair swishing slightly in the night breeze. She must have heard them though, because she turned to face them and smiled softly. Jason took a deep breath and stepped out of the doorway, walking across the roof towards her. She met him half way in a flash and he flinched as she reached out to him, and pulled him quickly into her arms. 

“You’ve grown so much, Little Bird,” She murmured into his hair. She was barely taller than him anymore, it had felt like she would tower over him forever, and now they were the same height. He was an adult, he was grown, he still felt small in her arms. 

He hugged her back and burst into tears, pressing his face into her shoulder. 

“Ohh, little warrior,” Diana soothed and lamented, cradling the back of his head and holding him close as he sobbed like he hadn’t since he was a child. “You’ve been so brave, I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been through.”

Why was he crying? He was crying for the child who he had been, the child who had to grow up far too fast and who had died. He had still been a teenager when he was resurrected, he was barely out of his teens now and he had missed those years he’d grown the most in a haze of glowing green rage. He wore a helmet so no one would know how young he was. Running his fucking empire of crime when he could have been in his second year of university if the Joker hadn’t killed him. Could have had a… not good, but maybe decent relationship with his adopted father. He grieved furiously for what might have been had the world been kinder.

“You’re still a warrior Jason. You’re protecting your people, as any good leader should. I’m proud of the man you’ve become,” Wonder Woman told him and Jason sobbed again, clinging to her hard enough that it would probably hurt an ordinary person but she was sturdy. 

“You- You have no idea how much that means to me,” He gasped brokenly. 

“I know, and I mean it. You will build a good life for yourself here, things will be better,” She cooed, rocking him gently. “You have your lover, you have your brothers, and your friends. And me, now that we know that you’re back you won’t be alone anymore. We won’t lose you again,” She promised him. “Just promise me that if you are ever in a situation like that again, you’ll call us this time.” 

“I promise,” Jason agreed and it felt like he was finally able to breathe, after so fucking long the weight on his chest lifted a little. Danny believed in him, Dick and Tim didn’t fight with him, but Danny would have followed Jason anywhere, and not fighting was not the same as believing. That Diana was proud of him, that someone else truly believed in him, meant more to him then he would have imagined. “Thank you.” 

A part of him wanted to pull away, pull himself together as quickly as possible to avoid the appearance of weakness. But he needed this, she had been like a parent to him and he had been so starved for parental love. He took a deep breath and tried to pull away, but she held him tighter.

“Take as much as time as you need to,” She told him softly, earnestly enough that he let himself believe it and relaxed back into her arms. She just held him as he cried out the years and the abandonment of his father, the death of both of his mothers, and all the shit he’d been put through with the League. “Never doubt that you are loved.”

Finally Jason pulled back and wiped the wetness from his eyes. They felt puffy and a little sore, but he felt much better anyway, if thirsty as hell! Jason glanced around and saw Danny hovering nearby, looking uncertain and worried. “I’m okay Beloved,” Jason said, opening his arms to his boyfriend who flitted into them immediately and held Jason fiercely, nuzzling into his chest. 

“Thank you for coming to see us, Diana. Um, this is Danny, Hyena. He’s been my partner since pretty soon after I came back, and my boyfriend a bit more recently.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Diana said warmly, reaching out to shake Danny’s hand waiting till Danny decided he was willing to let go of Jason with one hand at least. Jason could tell as they shook hands they were both squeezing too hard, testing each other. “Don’t you hurt him, he’s been through enough,” She warned Danny softly.

“I’m not planning on it,” Danny agreed, leaning against Jason’s chest lightly. “We’ll invite you over for dinner sometime soon, if you’d like to come. Won’t we Jason?” He asked, glancing up at Jason who nodded.

“Of course, just give us a heads up and you’re welcome to visit any time really,” Jason reiterated.

“Thank you, I would like to get to know the man you’ve become as well as I did the child you were,” Diana told him. “I will call you soon. I want to have another… chat with Bruce tonight.” She said grimly, she gave Jason one more hug, and nodded to Danny before she leapt off the roof and across half a block in one bound, carrying on out of sight quickly.

“I told you it would go well didn’t I Jay?” Dick said, and Jason had almost forgotten he was there. He’d been hanging back, watching the touching scene. As he walked forward he brushed some tears from his eyes even as he smiled, the sentimental bastard.

Jason stepped forward and scooped Dick up in a tight hug, lifting his feet off the ground as Dick wheezed. “Ya, you did, thanks Dick,” He said before putting Dick down just as quickly. “Now don’t overstay your welcome. I want to go home,” He muttered gruffly, he had had just about enough emotions for today. 

“Right, of course little brother, I’ll see you soon,” Dick agreed, patting Jason’s shoulder before he headed out as well.

Jason turned back into Danny’s waiting arms, drooping and letting his forehead rest on Danny’s shoulder, letting Danny hold him. God he was exhausted. What a fucking day. He let Danny guide him home using his powers to lower them through the roof so they could skip the stairs.

--------------

It seemed like after that disaster of a meeting the news that the second Robin was back was hot gossip in the hero community. It worked its way around the grapevine and Jason received calls from a few more heroes who found out who he was. Not all of them went well, some seemed downright disgusted by what he’d chosen to do with his life. But it was mostly fine, he didn’t really care what they thought about him anyway.

There was one call Jason still hadn’t gotten, and wouldn’t admit that he was waiting for, but he’d heard about what had happened to Roy. Kidnapped and cloned and kept unconscious for years by CADMUS. Ah the joys of being a child hero huh?

He went by Arsenal now apparently, and it seemed like what they’d been through, while not exactly similar… Well, they both had just about comparable levels of angst. Surely Roy wouldn’t judge him, surely Roy would reach out? Or was he too mad that Jason hadn’t reached out first, that he’d had to hear his friend was alive through the rumour mill? Jason would understand that honestly, he’d thought about reaching out, he really had! But somehow he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Danny could tell he was worried and was worried too in turn, hovering near him more often and watching as Jason compulsively checked his ‘work phone’. Danny had asked what was wrong, but when Jason had just shook his head he seemed to resign himself to waiting out whatever this was and supporting Jason as well as he could. Jason didn’t want to worry Danny, but he didn’t want to talk about his quiet yearning for his old best friend. Speaking about it would make it too real, and Danny would probably advise him to just call Roy. It wouldn’t be bad advice, but Jason just wasn’t ready to hear it.

Jason was just starting to resign himself to the fact that he was going to have to reach out himself when the phone call finally came. When it rang Jason snatched it up quickly and answered it before the ringing could disturb Danny’s sleep. Pausing the movie Danny had fallen asleep to so that he could focus on the call.

“Hey Fuckface, too good for your oldest friend now?” Roy’s voice came through the phone. It was deeper and rougher then Jason remembered but it was still familiar, it still had that slight, almost unplaceable accent that Roy had. 

“Course not, it’s good to hear from you,” Jason said, smiling despite the fear that Roy was mad at him. Fuck it was good to hear his voice again!

“Then why didn’t you call me?” Roy demanded, furious and hurt. Jason couldn’t blame him.

“I… I wasn’t ready to, after everything. I wasn’t ready to be Jason again for a really long time and then I was worried it was too long and you’d be mad. I’m really sorry, I should have reached out,” Jason said, ashamed of himself.

“No… I’m still mad but I do get that,” Roy admitted, the wind leaving his sails abruptly. “I couldn’t go back to being who I was after what happened to me either. That’s why I go by Arsonal now, you heard that right?”

“I did ya, and I heard what happened too. I’m sorry dude, we both got the shit end of this ‘hero’ stick huh?” Hood said with a bitter little chuckle.

“Yep. And everyone’s still pissy we want to be a little selfish with our skills now. But I just want to live a good life and have a little fun now! And provide for my little girl.”

“Your-” Jason cut off, his jaw dropping for a moment. “Holy shit, Roy do you have a kid?!”

“Ya I do. Her name is Lian and she’s the light of my life. Her mama’s in prison so it’s just the two of us, so I do what I gotta do to provide for her while spending the least amount of time away from her I can manage. The jobs I take have gotta be worth getting a nanny to take care of her too, and you would not believe how expensive childcare is!”

“Congratulations dude! I’m sure you’re a great dad,” Jason cheered softly. He was, though the Roy he’d known before he went missing would probably have been a shit father the way Roy talked about his daughter now left no doubt in Jason’s mind Roy was a good dad.

“Thanks dude, I certainly try. What about you? No kids but I’ve heard through the grapevine you’ve got a partner?” Roy asked with a teasing note to his voice. It was like no time had passed, it made Jason smile even as he blushed just a little.

“Ya, Hyena has been through a lot of the same shit as me. He understands me, you know? He’s… he’s really good to me, puts up with more of my shit then he should have to and I love him for it.” 

“Damn, I’d like to meet him. And see you. It’s been too long since I’ve had contact with… any of our old crowd you know? They just don’t understand anymore,” Roy sighed, Jason echoed the sound. 

“Ya, I do know. You should come visit, we’ll get some drinks and the three of us can bond. You’ll like him, maybe you’ll get two friends for the price of one,” Jason suggested hopefully. 

“Ya, maybe. That would be nice. How about.. Next Thursday? Weekends are always busiest for our ilk, eh?” 

“Ya, that sounds good.”

“You don’t have to ask Hyena first?” Roy questioned curiously. 

“No, he won’t mind. He’s pretty content to go wherever I go honestly,” Jason said with a little shrug. 

“He’s there with you right now?” Roy sounded amused. 

“Ya, he’s asleep with his head on my lap,” Jason chuffed, glancing down at Danny and stroking his hair, his presence barely registered to Jason anymore. He was always there, being with Danny was like being alone, but so, so much better. Being with Danny had all the comfort of being alone with none of the loneliness, coldness, or opportunities to spiral. He felt his heart flutter as under his hand Danny’s purr stuttered and then grew louder as he cuddled in closer. 

“Hmph, will you wake him up so I can give him a shovel talk?” Roy asked, and Jason got the impression he was only half joking. 

“No need, Nightwing already gave him one, and they’re all pretty performative anyway since he could beat up God in a Denny's parking lot… To be honest that’s something that’s bothered me. Not the power thing, I mean people want to give him a shovel talk about me, but no one’s given me one about him. And I’ve definitely hurt him worse than he’d ever hurt me, but there’s no one… left. Besides his little sister and I don’t think she will. She needs to believe he’s indestructible because he’s all she has left,” He sighed, letting his head fall back against the couch cushions.

“Holy shit dude,” Roy breathed on the other side of the phone, with a sigh that made Jason wince with the static. 

“Ya, sorry, I think I got a little too deep there. This is the first time I’ve talked to an… actual friend in a while you know? I’m back in contact with my brothers, and Diana came to visit. But I haven’t reconnected with any of the old crowd and I don’t really want to talk to my brothers about my relationship, you know?”

“No, I mean, Ya I get it, and no worries. We really should meet up for that drink, and maybe it’d actually be best if it’s just me and you first time? That way we can catch up and you can tell me all about your worries. Maybe I’ll even give You a shovel talk, stand in for whoever would have done it for him if they got the chance? But I was talking about him being able to beat up god.”

Jason let out a bark of a laugh, he’d forgotten Danny’s powers weren’t out in the open yet.“Ya, he’s powerful as hell, he just doesn’t use them much because it wouldn’t be fair to the rest of us.” Jason agreed, nodding even though Roy couldn’t see him. “Meeting alone first sounds like a good plan. I’ll get the Birds of Prey to kidnap him for the evening, Harley and Pam absolutely adore him, and not just cause he killed Joker.”

“I’m sure they do,” Roy said a bit absently. “Hey, Jay?”

“Ya?”

“I really missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

[ghostbsuter]

Sometimes.

Just sometimes.

Bruce, tired father of too many children, wished for a small break.

Just a tiny one.

He pinched his nose, cowl covering his head and expression and glared.

"I can't believe you snitched on me!" Billy batson, freshly revealed teen and sitting on his usual spot during meetings, hisses.

"If I have to get parented, so do you!" Danny fenton, also freshly revealed teenager, glared right back.

"Boys." Both their attention snapped to wonder woman, still tense and warry.

"Do you two have adult supervision, at least." Batman asks, feeling slightly more drained than before, he can feel Nightwing's stare at the back of his head, coming closer.

"Do the voices count?" Danny asks, to which Billy nodded. "Yeah, do they? Zeus has strong opinions, and many kids. He probably can parent, somewhat."

They shrugged both, like they hadn't just opened another whole can of questions.

"Wait!" Danny snapped his fingers, "what about clocky? He sends us on time missions, has his own lair, and lets us hang around. That counts? Right?"

The other teen nods in agreement.

(Knowing both are black haired and blue-eyed teens, he already knows Dick will never let him live this down. Deceived by children, for YEARS.)

(So much for being the greatest detective.)

(The text he sent to Alfred is between him and his butler dad.)

"Or—"

In the end, the two agreed reluctantly to stay around for a while. The Kents, the Allens, Diana, and the Waynes have opened up their homes to house them permanently.

Much their amusement, they declared, that to make no one jealous, they'd switch homes every other week or so.

That alone smelled like chaos.

Whatever, it was Diana's first week.

(And if the house of mysteries appeared in front of them sometimes, that's also between them and a very suffering John constantine.)

.・゜-: ✧ :-

A continuation

[frownyalfred]

TRINITY STRIP CLUB?

I had some bits and pieces written for an outsider!POV fic of the Trinity going undercover of a strip club, but I think I scrapped it since I ended up going with a similar storyline for dead man's party.

(snippets below, unedited)

---

“Oh fuck. VIP in the big suite.” 

Amy set down her gatorade, swallowing quickly. “This late?”

Matt tilted the POS screen her way, showing her the time block. “They just grabbed the last two blocks for the night.” 

“Shit,” Amy said, biting her lip, “That’s pricey.” 

“Ask if they want any bottles,” Matt said, immediately switching to business mode, “Actually, don’t ask. Just bring in the champagne.” 

Amy made grabby hands until he stepped out of her way, letting her look at the screen. She thumbed through the schedule, frowning at the room reservation -- John Smith -- and the underlined note: Do not disturb. 

“Taking first dibs?” she asked, glancing at his sweat-soaked shorts critically. Matt stuck his tongue out at her. 

“They don’t care this late,” he said, “It’s all coming off, anyway.” 

Amy scanned the screen one last time -- three guests -- and snagged her serving tray off the counter, going off in search of champagne glasses. 

Matt, wisely, split off for the dressing rooms, likely to freshen up. He was wiping down with baby wipes in full view of the door when Amy passed by a few minutes later, a chilled bottle of Dom Pérignon carefully perched in an ice bucket on her tray. 

“Give ‘em hell,” he said, grinning lewdly. 

Amy made an unimpressed noise, heading for the stairs. 

(line break)

“Hello, welcome to Club Charlie. My name is Amy, I’m going to be your--”

Three heads shot up, staring at her in surprise. Years of training prevented Amy from immediately stopping in her tracks. She balanced the bucket off of her tray and onto the table, focusing on keeping her heels under her. 

“We didn’t order champagne.”

Amy looked up from the bucket, already reaching for the glasses. 

“Compliments of the…” she faltered, “...house, sir.” 

The man in the middle of the couch -- sunglasses, dress shirt open to the third button, broad shoulders -- didn’t seem amused. Delicate lips pressed together, highlighting their curve. 

“We also asked not to be disturbed,” he said. Not upset -- not really, the truly wealthy ones never did -- but on the road to it. “Miss…?”

“Bruce,” the man to his left said, interrupting before Amy could respond, “let her be.” 

He was just as broad-shouldered, wide blue eyes keeping just above her collarbone. On the table in front of him was an iPad and several notepads, half filled in with penciled diagrams. 

“We can drink champagne,” the third person -- a woman, in a deep red, one-shoulder dress -- said, leaning forward, “I will do the honors.” 

Amy handed off the champagne bottle to the woman, mouth slightly open. 

There had to be a convention in town. A convention for highly attractive, black-haired, blue eyed models. It was like staring at a movie star in real life. 

The woman smiled at Amy in thanky, digging a perfectly manicured finger through the foil of the bottle. Before she could offer the bottle opener, the 

“Holy fuck,” she said, stumbling back into the dressing room, “you need to get in there now.” 

“Are they rich?” Matt asked, looking up from where he was tweezing a hair from his upper thigh, “Please tell me they’re good tippers. I got absolutely fucked by that last DJ set.” 

“They’re models,” Amy said, breathless, “literal, actual, fucking works of art. I’ve never seen three more attractive people in my life.” 

“Bullshit,” Matt said, returning to his hair. 

“Seriously. Grab Leslie. There’s three of them.” 

---

“Two birds, one stone,” Sunglasses said under his breath, “I need to be here.” 

“You said you were available,” the younger man protested, “I didn’t think that meant you were at the strip club.” 

“You said it was urgent,” Sunglasses said, raising an eyebrow at his companion, “and I am available.” 

The woman gave Matt and Leslie an encouraging smile as they mounted the stage. 

“I don’t…” next to Sunglasses, the younger man wiped a hand across his face, “Lois is going to kill me.” 

“Lois would already have her wallet out,” Sunglasses muttered, “and you know it.” 

“Gah.” 

“See something you like, gorgeous?” Matt called to the woman, slinging a hand around the center pole. 

The woman’s sculpted eyebrows lifted, lips forming a perfect, cherry-red pout over her champagne flute. “Will you show me something I’ll like, μωρό?”

“Oh God,” the younger man said, glancing back and forth between the two of them, “This was a mistake.” 

Sunglasses glanced up at the stage, looking marginally more pleased than his companion, “Might as well enjoy it, boy scout.” 

“Enjoy it?” 

“More champagne, sir?” Amy asked, darting in with the fresh bottle. The younger man stared up at her in shock. God, his eyes were really fucking blue. She could get lost in those eyes. 

“I--um,” the man shoved it out at her, “Sure. Please. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have --”

His reply was drowned out by the sound of Kim Petras blaring through the VIP suite speakers, marking the beginning of the set. 

[homage-to-errata]

@dianakko-week Day 1: Sun and Moon/Music Music school AU! In which Diana plays a piano, Akko plays a guitar, and the two have a lot of fun together: "Diana threw her head back and laughed. Funny how the compliments didn’t bother her the way that they always did when they were spoken. Maybe it was because of the slightly teasing gleam in Atsuko’s eyes and the wry grin that touched her lips. It was obvious they were having fun, and that, too, made it worth it. They continued playing together, improvising lyrics at points but mostly just having fun. In fact, Diana couldn’t remember the last time that she had had this much fun just playing music. She enjoyed playing music, but it wasn’t fun very often. This… was a very nice change of pace." This illustration is part of a collaboration with my friend @onhirel, who wrote an amazing and heartbreaking story for day one that will no doubt stick with me for a long time. You can read it here. Thanks for letting me be a part of the story's creation <3

[thiccpersonality]

The Realization

It's hard being the only human in a team full of meta-humans, aliens or straight up gods, but Bruce manages to get by...even if internally he's overly critical of the work he does, always comparing himself to others and telling himself to do better. But, he secretly counts his blessings one-by-one at how he has friends colleagues that reassure him everyday that he does so much-yes, even when he doesn't ask for it...Clark always tells him it's in his eyes, that's how he knows Bruce wants it.

Bruce finds that stupid though, the only thing in his eyes is exhaustion, and if not exhaustion, then anger; and if not anger, then it's probably a cocktail of self-loathing, self-hate and self-deprecation sprinkled with a healthy dose of "I wish I was dead."

Anyhow, Bruce counts his blessings secretly, even if it doesn't seem like he's doing so. And while it's hard being one of the only humans without a power in a group full of meta-humans or fully fledged super powered beings, he is grateful for the other aspects of power he has: his name, his face, his money, influence-and one of his actual favorites...when he's in a good mood-his body. Bruce isn't an idiot (Jason: "Not all the time anyway!"), he sees the way people eye him up and down, both men and women alike, he knows their thoughts towards him...or well, his body at least.

He has seen the way women eye his arms and pecs (Wally: "You mean, Batboobs®!? And doesn't everyone eye those?"), watches the way mens eyes glaze over when staring at his mile long legs.

Which brings us to how Bruce never truly feels small, not anymore at least. Even if he was of smaller height for a man (or in general) his position in life and as a hero/vigilante would make him feel and appear big to people. So, Bruce hasn't felt small in a very long time, he tends to not pay attention to things like height much-to reiterate: he never feels small because 1. He isn't and 2. Even if he was, who would be brave enough to tell one of the richest men on earth-let alone THE Batman that he's short?

The answer: no one.

So while Bruce has never had anyone say to his face that he's short, he's the World's Greatest Detective™ (Jason and Stephanie: "Ehhhh...occasionally.) and can see for himself the difference of him compared to everyone else.

Who is everyone else you ask? Well, it's the people he works with and-and Jason. It's kind of hard for Bruce to truly pay attention to height when he never pays attention to it in the first place or when he's usually in life-threatening situations to really care, in fact, he doesn't know why he is even obsessing over such a thing-'but you do know'-his mind replies. The thing Bruce hates most is that he does-he does know what kick-started this whole height thing, and it was his son; Jason.

XXX

It was any other normal day at Wayne Manor...if you count your son entering your top-secret cave injured as normal. Bruce had his mask off, his icy blue eyes analyzing the information on his computer unblinkingly, there's been an issue with abductions recently and he doesn't want to waste any time on finding out who is up to it, so Bruce has been working overtime (Alfred in a tired tone: "As usual...") trying to find out who it is.

Just as his brain is stringing something together, he hears the sound of a motorcycle outside the Cave, Bruce's brain immediately switches to finding out who it could be. He takes into account every person already inside the house, outside of it, what said people outside said they were doing until his brain very obviously deduces that it must be Jason. Hm? Should he heat some leftovers up for Jason? What is the other here for? Why is he even overthinking it? Jason is free to come over anytime he wants...

....

.....

......

But what if the reason is bad? Is Jason mad at him again? Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose from the sudden headache he gets from his mind panicking, the man just groans softly and turns around just in time to see Jason riding into the Cave, his eyebrow raising suspiciously at the lack of fancy tricks his son bothered not doing.

Bruce silently analyzes his son's body for any signs of distress, starting from his head, he immediately noticed the crack in the helmet and can feel his muscles tighten in worry before remembering he's trained his kids to fight and be able to receive hits as well. The thing that causes him to stand up though is the fact that Jason hasn't noticed him yet, and the way the young man is holding his side isn't helping to ease Bruce's racing mind.

"Jason, is everything alright?"

Hm? Was that too forward of him? Bruce knows his children, but he especially knows Jason and Damian hate being asked for signs of-what they deem as-weakness and injury (Damian sipping his tea: "Wonder where we learned that from, father?)

Jason finally looks up at Bruce, his tone sounding a bit slurred as he speaks, "Jus' fine, B. A little-" he grunts as he stumbles off his bike-"scratch never...hurt me." Okay, so it's more than a little scratch, Bruce catches Jason and can't control the immediate frown he makes when the boy doesn't bother fighting his hold. "What actually happened? It's not just a little scratch...you are clutching your side like you've been sh-" his breathing hitches at the words he almost uttered, w-was Jason actually-

"What? S-Shot? Why's it matter if-" Jason quiets down when Bruce's words finally process, his baby blue's widening under his mask at the small ways his dad is starting to panic from the thought-"No! I was jus' stabbed is all...no shots."

Bruce will get on himself later about how his body relaxed a bit more when finding out his child wasn't shot, I mean, what kind of father feels relieved that their kid was just stabbed? He knows-deep down-that it's his...ahem..."trauma response" to guns, but it sucks for him to realize he finds himself more at ease when people he knows are hurt in different ways that aren't a gun...he feels like a horrible person when it happens.

For now though, his main priority is his son who is losing blood, blood that Bruce is finally noticing on Jason's hand.

Bruce grunts as he brings his son closer to his body, feeling momentarily surprised when he lets out the sound from moving the younger. Since when did he ever grunt when moving his children? Another thing is, when did Jason get so heavy in the first place? When did his once small boy pack on so much muscle and-oh, God...please...when did Jason ever have to bend his knees when Bruce held him?

His body is on autopilot and he can feel himself moving to the medical table, but his eyes are busy staring at Jason's bent knees, his mind screaming at him that this must be a prank his son is pulling-oh! Or maybe Bruce is actually in an alternate universe where his child is bigger than him.

Bruce sucks in a deep breath when arriving at the table, gently lying his son down so he can get to work on stitching his boy up while also giving a (most likely) hypocritical lecture on how Jason should stay safe.

XXX

It was ever since that day that Bruce has been hyper fixated on his own height, along with the height of others. He hates how he's been sneaking in tests and making things awkward with his family because he chooses not to answer and instead rushes off to panic when realizing Jason is bigger than him.

It all happened as soon as Jason was patched up too, his mind recalls every stupid miniscule little detail, from Jason's clothes to the way his hair was messy from sleep and-the worst part-how he had to look up at the nineteen-year-old when the young man got close enough to him. Barefoot and all. The worst part is how Jason didn't even seem to notice it, and Bruce is NOT risking letting his son know, because then he will be picked on for being smaller than him and then his Bluejay will no doubt drag his siblings into this.

Not to mention how Bruce doesn't want to deal with a furious Damian who will demand that they, in his words, "stop disrespecting father before he slits their throats."

It has been a miserable couple months for him-and don't you judge him for keeping this obsession up for months! How is anyone-let alone a parent-supposed to process that they are shorter than their kid? Bruce holds back his frustrated tears at realizing his children are grown and growing, for goodness sakes, he had a meltdown just yesterday when it caught up to him that Richard is a fully grown man...he will never let anyone know about how he clutched onto old pictures of his eldest while crying.

And everyday Bruce is hoping and praying against Damian's growth...of course he doesn't want his son to be stunted in his puberty process...but if he decides to stay little forever then that is perfectly okay with him.

Besides panicking over his family's growth, which, yay for them...really, Bruce has been noticing-and I mean, TRULY noticing, his friends colleagues heights. There are certain people where it's just so noticeable, like J'onn for example, that guy is so huge that you are stupid if you don't notice it. Another hero is Big Barda, I mean, she's a seven foot tall woman...you would obviously notice that.

But there are just some people he noticed it with but it didn't bother him before (thank you Jason for kick-starting this!) And now Bruce is constantly comparing himself to the most closest of colleagues to one's he barely speaks to, it's insane how many files he's gone through just to look at heights. His two closest friends colleagues Diana and Clark are two people he didn't bother with height wise. It didn't matter since they made him feel small in different ways...I mean, you have the Amazonian princess with strength and skills that would put any living creature to shame and a Kryptonian that is more human than most humans, who truly has a heart of gold despite any negative views towards him.

And then there is Bruce: cold, stoic, a touch too sarcastic, jaded, cynical, a negative Nancy, a party pooper (Jason says that), no fun, emotionally stunted, anxious, depressed, stressed, old, washed up, unfunny-and the worst of all; short.

Bruce holds back his distressed noise as Wally West, AKA: Richard's best friend who has been over a million times, stands next to him with that ever bright smile of his and is animatedly talking, effectively ruining his depressing train of thought. When did he get so big? So...grown? He takes in the maturity of his once soft face, the man is still cute no doubt, but he isn't that same round faced boy who bothered him about Alfred's cookies. Okay, okay, maybe he still is that same kid...just older looking and taller now.

"-and that's why I'll need that penthouse full of Agent A's cookies."

Bruce blinks away the sudden wetness in his eyes and looks down (ha!) at The Flash confused, though to the normal eye he looks the same old disinterested as usual. "You need a penthouse? What happened to that modest apartment you got?" Wally blinks in shock behind his mask before giving a toothy smile, "Is that what your mind got from that? I was joking about the penthouse...though Agent A's cookies would still be much appreciated."

The ginger shifts in place nervously at the way Batman is staring at him, did he do something wrong? The only thing that somewhat assures Wally that things are okay is the fact that Bruce gives a grunt of agreement before walking off.

He can't take this anymore! If Bruce stays around Wally any longer he's afraid he'll start crying in front of the kid. Instead, he'll just head to the cafeteria and drown his sorrows in today's dessert. Bruce walks in and sees that Diana is already in line, holding back his grumble as he stands next to the woman and internally mourns the fact his head only reaches her shoulder. "Good morning, my friend! It's a lovely day in space is it not?"

Bruce grunts and doesn't bother looking up at Diana, "It's the same view we see everyday we come up to the Watchtower."

The Amazonian just smiles brighter, warmth radiating from her mood. "Though we see it everyday it doesn't make it any less gorgeous up here." Bitterness. Bruce's heart is filled with bitterness at the words "up" and "here" , is-is Diana teasing him? Did she somehow find out about his fixation and is now subtly letting him know that she knows?

The feeling of warmth, like that from the sun, at his right side causes Bruce to automatically look up at the person standing so close to him. His icy blue eyes only widen under his mask at fully tilting his head back to look up at Clark, he feels like sobbing when realizing his head only comes to Clark's chest, why is the man even taller than Diana!?

"Good morning Bruce, Diana. Lovely morning up here, is it not?"

There's that stupid word again! And is it really a good morning when he's been suffering for so long? Bruce frowns at the gentle nudge at his side and Diana's jovial tone, "Told you the view is still beautiful." At Clark's questioning look Diana just smiles more, "Our friend here just is being a sourpuss today. He's grumpy about how I said the view is nice, he just replied about how we see it everyday."

Clark just smiles and looks down at Bruce, his smile turning amused when his friend doesn't move up the line. "Are you just going to stare at me all morning or will you move down the line?"

A scoff is all Bruce can give, not noticing the concerned looks shared over his head as he focuses on piling his food tray with dessert. The concern isn't necessarily from Bruce eating sweets, Diana and Clark both know how much their friend actually has a sweet tooth, the issue is coming from the fact he is willingly eating sweets in front of others on top of the amount it is. Clark just frowns worriedly and sits actual food on his plate while mouthing to Diana about what's wrong with Bruce.

In return, the princess just shakes her head and looks back down at Bruce, choosing to speak up. "You know, it's been awhile since we've eaten alone, just the three of us. Why don't we head to one of our rooms or something?" What she actually means by that is: "let's get Bruce alone so we can figure out what's wrong with him."

The two super powered heroes find themselves even more putoff at Bruce's distracted grunt...it is rare he pulls that one out, usually his grunts have some level of awareness to them, but this one is telling them that he's not actually paying attention. Which is cause for alarm in and of itself. Plus, Clark and Diana have been getting calls from Bruce's family, they are worried about how he's been acting as of late. They report Bruce is running off on them whenever they ask him what's wrong...which actually isn't out of character for Bruce, but if the Batfamily are saying it's different than usual, then it's different than usual.

The two taller heroes lead the shorter to his room, punching his code in before the door opens and they watch as Bruce automatically walks over to his bed and sits on it, shoving a cookie in his mouth and causing Clark to signal to Diana in confirmation that something is wrong.

They use their friend's distracted state to quietly talk about it while joining him in the room, "What's going on with him?" Diana raises her brow as she asks, tilting her head up and to the side so Clark can whisper in her ear. "I don't know for sure...but his lip is jutting out into a micro-pout. I quickly scanned him to see if he was hiding injuries, and while he's not, his muscles are tense as if he's holding back something."

Diana softly ah's and sets her tray down on Bruce's desk, the noise causing the man to look up at them finally. His eyebrows raising when noticing he's in his room, "Why didn't we just eat in the cafeteria?" Bruce holds back his fidgeting at the look the taller two heroes share.

Clark clears his throat, "We were going to originally...but we noticed you were acting off and suggested eating in one of our rooms as a test-"

Diana, being one to never hold back, gets to the point. "A test you failed, Bruce. To be honest, you've been acting off enough to worry your family into calling us to step in. So, can you please tell us what's going on?" Bruce feels genuine embarrassment that this is where his fixation has gotten him, he's too flustered to admit that his issue is the fact he's begun to notice people are bigger than him, I mean, what kind of issue is that?

At Bruce's silence Clark steps forward slightly, his voice patient and gentle when he speaks.

"We are your friends, B. Heck, you even feel like family. And family is there for each other just like me and Di are here for you. Jason has been feeling particularly bad lately...he says he didn't know what he did this time to make you so upset with him, you keep staring him down angrily only to storm off when he looks back at you."

Bruce feels angry with himself for letting such a stupid non-issue get this far. His looks of "anger" weren't anger towards Jason at all, he knows when he thinks hard about stuff he can sometimes look mean apparently, but he was never upset with his Jaylad...the distress was just showing on his face and Bruce most likely masked it with the first emotion that came to mind, one that's easiest for him to express or replicate; anger or irritation.

Bruce hates the involuntary distressed sound that escapes his crumb covered lips, however, for the sake of his family and ending this stupid misunderstanding, he chooses to be...honest (Batfamily: *collectively gasping*)

"Jason...he's bigger than me-" Bruce keeps the Batman mask on so he won't be too vulnerable, his hands tightening on the metal tray from the thought-"For months I have been noticing the sudden growth of my children and I...I didn't know what to do with that information. Did you know that Jason has to crouch when I hold him now? Since when did he need to do that?" At this point of his ranting, Bruce is out of bed and pacing across the room while his friends patiently listen.

"And then it hit me one day that Richard is truly a man now. Maybe that's why we got into so many fights before? I never truly realized that he didn't need my help like before-" Bruce pauses in the middle of the room and clenches his cape in his fists-"He is so much taller now and shining brighter than the little boy I picked up. Timmy is even starting to grow a bit more...which, I don't know if I should be upset or pleased that he's finally growing, that boy scares me sometimes with how small he was."

Bruce's hands instinctively reach up to run his fingers through his hair and he huffs at the mask being in the way, choosing to hide his hands underneath his cape instead.

"Wally is even so big now, did you know that? I remember the young boy with that fat freckled face pestering me about Alfred's cookies...and now that boy has the audacity to get big on me, I think I hate realizing that Dickie-bird is actually taller than his friend now, it's only by one or two inches-but still!" Bruce starts pacing again, his nerves building up once more and telling him to move.

"And don't get me started on Damian. I feel I constantly am trying to sabotage his growth...I never got to see him as a baby and so I hope he stays that small, chubby faced little boy I've come to know. I feel horrible for wishing against his growth, but I want to make his childhood as enjoyable as possible, did you know he didn't even know what movies were when he came here? He was deprived of fun and he can't grow too quickly now or fun childhood memories can't be made."

Bruce stops to finally stare at Diana and Clark, pointing accusingly at them.

"And then you two! I noticed it before, but it was never something of interest to me. I didn't need to pay attention to your heights when I feel small in other ways with you two...you-" Bruce grunts at Clark gently slamming into him and hugging him, the man sounding a mix of fond, touched, baffled and sad. "You don't need to feel small with us. I for one think you are bigger than any of us in many different ways...I mean, you just admitted to having a crisis at realizing your family grew."

Diana joins in on the hug with a soft chuckle, "I'm just surprised you didn't notice our height difference sooner. Clark and I always talked about how cute it is to pick you up, your our tiny human."

The woman just smiles more when Clark nudges her side in warning for her playful words, "But in all seriousness. This has to be the cutest moment we've seen from you ever, instead of a midlife crisis you are having a parental crisis-" Diana cackles again when Clark pokes her side again-"What? I am being serious. But also, this just shows how much you care...and I think it's only normal to feel this way when you never expected to have a family of your own in the first place."

Bruce's breath hitches at the gentleness in which Diana speaks the last part, his eyes prickling with tears at realizing deep down she's right. Ever since he took in Richard he was always amazed and scared at having a family, and no matter how much he's tried to deny it in his worst moments, that's what Richard became ever since he thought of taking him in. Bruce never expected a family, which is why he tries so hard to deny it...and I guess after years of taking care of children it's finally caught up to him that his family-more specifically, his children (because that's who they are) have grown into functioning adults.

He never thought he would want a family after losing his in that alleyway, but if anyone were to take down his defenses...of course it'd be a child.

Clark gently reaches up to tug Bruce's mask off and finds himself wanting to cry at seeing the fat droplets-hanging on for dear life-onto Bruce's eyes, even now his friend doesn't want to seem weak. He can't help but chuckle at the incredulous look Bruce gives him for wanting to cry as well.

"You can cry, Bruce. What are friends for?"

Bruce feels his face grow red, his body loosening in Clark and Diana's hold as months of tension leaves his being through his tears, choosing to hide his face in his friends strong bodies. He hates crying and how good it makes him feel afterwards, he doesn't think he deserves that feeling most days, but for now, it's okay. Bruce also can't help the eye roll at hearing Clark sniffle as well, he's such a crybaby. Diana just smirks at her two boys, carding her long, elegant fingers through Bruce's hair, the two taller heroes paying close attention to Bruce as he shifts in their hold and speaks up. Voice slightly muffled.

"Never speak about this to anyone."

Diana and Clark share a look before silently coming into agreement and lifting Bruce off his feet, reveling in his annoyed protests with laughter.

"We wouldn't dare."

("1. He isn't and 2. Even if he was, who would be brave enough to tell one of the richest men on earth-let alone THE Batman that he's short?" Does the second option imply or mean Bruce is short or is it just a scenario? You decide! I constantly switch between Bruce being a genuine short king and him just being around people that make him feel freaking short 😂.

"Clark gently reaches up to tug Bruce's mask off and finds himself wanting to cry at seeing the fat droplets-hanging on for dear life-onto Bruce's eyes, even now his friend doesn't want to seem weak." <-(Damian and Jason sipping on their tea: "Seems we found that answer to who we learned that from. 😌")

Also, I am so sorry this story got so long! I didn't mean to 😭. This idea has been in my head, and I usually forget my ideas...but this time I actually wanted to remember lol. This is also kind of based off of the one day I was hugging my baby brother and realized I actually had to look up at him...he's only 14 (while writing this I also just remembered he's 14 😭😭😭), I went back into my room and literally just sat there reminiscing on my bed about when he was brought home from the hospital to all the good times we had together and even things I wish I did different with him growing up 😂.

Also, also, I apologize for the constant whiplash from some semblance of humor (or something), to slightly crack-ish (I think so at least) writing to things getting deep and emotional. I was feeling fickle with the vibe of this story I guess, so I said: "why not everything?" 😂😂😂

This is getting even longer cause I like talking too much in notes lol, so I'm going to leave with a thank you! Anyone and everyone who bothers to read this long mess is very much appreciated!

Please remember to stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛)

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXIII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... J'onn broke the news that Danny thinks he's going to be forced into combat in exchange for his medical care. Everyone disliked that™.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

COME GET YOUR NEW ART HERE 💥🍳!!💥 IT'S FIBERCRAFT!!Shoutout to @rainbowbeansprout for crocheting a fic accurate injured ghost Danny!! That's outstanding!!

💚👻👽👻💚

So, Wally broke all of the bones in his legs yesterday.

Which is…not ideal. Still. He’s pretty used to it at this point, though, and he’s already mostly healed.

It’s just that. Well.

…The rest of healing is kind of…time-consuming.

So Wally’s in basketball shorts and a mask and a t-shirt he’d started using as pajamas when he was in college and he’s on the med floor of the Watchtower, and yet another physical therapist is helping him bend his leg back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, because he’d tripped in the middle of the Speedforce and busted everything hip-down.

So. (Back, and forth. Back, and forth. Back…) This sucks.

“Do we have to do this every time?” Wally asks, as if there isn’t a team of medical professionals kept on hand to deal with Superpower-wrought Super Medical Problems.

“Do you have to shatter your legs every time?” the PT asks back wryly, which, hey! The pressure pressing up against his bare foot is an additional stressor to the sass. “Bend this more for me, Flash. You can do it.”

Wally grumbles, and pretends the angle his leg is bending at doesn’t make him wince. Wow is he going to have to build his flexibility back up again.

The physical therapy room looks just like any other gym, basically; a lot of squishy mats in playful colors, a lot of grippy tape; a LOT of wipeable vinyl surfaces that can be sanitized at a moment’s notice. It smells kind of weird and plasticky and kind of like alcohol cleaner.

It’s not his favorite room in the Watchtower, but, eh. It could be way worse. What’s unusual is the whirrr of the door opening and closing in one of the private care rooms for another patient, since, you know...HIPAA and all that. Wally assumes. Or is it costume confidentiality once you leave Earth's atmosphere...?

Usually everyone knows who’s stopping in for PE through the sheer power of the Justice League gossip groupchats. (There’s at least nine. Wally’s in four of them. He aspires to be in two more by April.) There hasn’t been a big fight that requires long-term medical care in a while, and there’s no one Wally can think of who’d need this kind of recovery.

Something’s buzzing at the outside of his awareness, though. It sounds kind of…

Wally perks up. “Hey, the alien kid’s here!”

The PT holding Wally up at the waist hums. Her name is Cindy, and judging from their previous conversations, she thinks that Wally is the dumbest man alive. “There’s a million of those, Flash. Which one?”

“The one who bit Superman,” Wally adds.

Judging by the face Cindy makes, this clarifies nothing.

“Most recently,” Wally stresses, carefully not wincing as his leg gets stretched out again, only to be pulled back into position as tightly as before. “OW. Cindy, you’re killing me.”

Cindy makes a strangled noise. She asks: “What, again?” which is how Wally remembers that he got torn back out of the time stream not all that long ago, and it may be a big gauche to joke about your own death with the people who care about it.

Whoops. Wally winces. “…Nevermind?”

The other PTs make various fussy and annoyed noises, but the alien kid is wheeled onto the other side of the medical floor’s only gym. (The actual training floors are on another level. Wally wishes he was there. Alone.)

(Without four PTs clinging to his legs at all times.)

Wally waves. It’s a nice enough gesture, and now that the alien-phantasm-turned-flesh-and-blood-boy is more physically embodied than he used to be, the boy even deigns to carefully wave back.

The kid’s PTs—Wally thinks at least one of them is from the team that supervises Bart and his super-powered-leg-problems—end up encouraging the alien kid’s chair round to the soft mats where the kid can lay down. He ends up in the exact same position Wally is—horizontal on the floor, legs forcibly pinwheeled by enthusiastic but firm PTs.

Wally can physically feel the kid’s astonishment and discontentment buzzing in the air as he figures out what’s being done to him. Wally can’t help but laugh.

The kid angles his head towards the speedster. His face still looks—well, it looks…bad. It looks bad, unhealed and still threatening to weep neon green body fluids; there’s a wet, living crack running up and down his face that makes eye contact kind of hard. His hands are all spidery—this kid can probably hold and grip things, but the previous breakage have left his hands a little too easy to splay, a little too oddly-angled. He’s too thin to keep himself fully upright for long. When he looks at you, his eyes shake like a poorly lined-up television signal.

Martian Manhunter had said that he’d once looked like a healthy, happy human child. His current form is a reflection of the injuries he’d experienced since.

...What a thing for a kid to go through. Wally wouldn’t wish this sort of injury on anyone.

“­Alright, up you go,” the PT above him—Rhys, Wally remembers at the very last second—orders, and Wally is prompted to let the man help him back upright. “Over to the bars for you. You think your legs are up to bearing that kind of weight as you try out walking?”

“…Sure,” Wally lies to Rhys. It’ll be fine. Probably. By the time he gets over there, his legs might have already speed-healed by then. “Hand me the—?”

“Yeah, yeah, here’s the crutches. Don’t destroy yourself trying to make this happen, okay?”

So Wally gets set up at the glorified playground equipment in his least restrictive gym clothes, one long iron bar under one arm, and one long iron bar under the other. Two full-size physical therapists spot him as the speedster completes the most strenuous task available to him at the moment: walking across a very short distance without putting his full weight on his legs.

Wally puts one shaking leg in front of the other. The steps are slow. The urge to zoom to the end of the little bowling lane he’s stuck in—and therefore shatter his legs under the speedforce, again—is irresistibly temping.

Healing sucks. And Wally’s even got the longer end of the stick.

In the end, Wally sticks the landing. He is unreasonably sweaty. He is miserable. But he makes it to the end. Every one of the witnessing PTs applauds as if this is a great success. It’s literally not. It’s the inevitable result of pushing himself too far for the third time this year.

A question buzzes through the air, fluffing through Wally’s hair and the little fine hairs up and down his body. It’s nothing but inquisitive—whatareyoudoing whatareyoudoing?

Wally lets the PT maneuver a chair underneath him. It gives him enough breathing room to turn his upper torso, and he ends up catching the eye of the little alien kid in the corner. He’s sat on a yoga ball, two members of his medical team and one of the kids’ PTs trying to get his attention back to his exercises.

“Hey,” Wally realizes suddenly. “Your casts are gone!”

The kids’ legs are actually bare, which Wally’s never seen before. They’re twiggy, sure, stretched taut over a bone frame, and discolored and pale, but they’re legs. Wally hadn’t even known the alien had possessed legs until he’d formed a physical body months and months ago.

“Dude, that’s great!”

Happy/smug/proud vibrates through the room, making Wally’s teeth buzz. The kid smiles through a half-split lip, and bounces on the yoga ball ever so slightly.

“Good,” the kid says, surprising Wally, his PTs, and the kid’s usual medical team. He was talking already?! He thought J’onn had said—

“Hurt?” the boy asks, concern/concern flooding through the air. Oh. Right. He’s probably here for his busted legs; it would make sense that by virtue of the setting, Wally would be injured too.

And, sure, Wally busted his legs, but he at least heals with all the swiftness of the speedforce. “Meh.” Wally waves off the question. “I’m fine. It’ll be quick for me; some rehab and some lunch and a few days off, and I’ll be in shipshape.”

Wait. Wally’s eyes scrunches up. Is using wordplay appropriate with this kid…?

“Pain?” the kid asks, and turned his attention to the closest member of his medical team. “He pain?”

The medical professional sighs, which finally clues Wally in that the man is no longer masked. Hey, the kid is out of medical isolation! “The Flash has his own medication, thankfully. His doctors know what to do.”

The kid frowns. He doesn’t get it. He looks at Wally, and he looks at the staffer, who shrugs. “It’s the usual indicator word he uses for pain medication. He’s wondering if you’re hurt enough to need some.”

Wally hums. On one hand, it’s sweet that the alien kid is worried about him. It’s a huge step upwards from the alien who spent all his time hiding in abandoned meeting rooms and occasionally biting Superheroes.

On the other hand, the kid doesn’t just look worried that Wally might not be getting care; he looks scared.

Something happened to this kid. Something he can't shake off.

Wally breathes in, and breathes out.

—And breathes in sharply when Cindy starts wiggling his feet. She doesn’t respond at all to his glare, because she is a professional, and he is not a big baby of a superhero.

Mean.

“I’m fine,” Wally finally responds, trying to alleviate the kid’s concerns through sheer vibes-telepathy alone. Who knows if it’s working, but it makes Wally feel better about trying at the very least. “I’ve got my own team to fix me up, and they do a good job of taking care of me. Even if they’re bullying me at my most vulnerable.”

“Anything for you, boss,” Cindy volleys back cheerfully. “Gimme your other leg.”

The tension in the air slowly dissipates. The kid doesn’t stop shooting occasional looks at the unadorned, half-out-of-uniform Flash, but he does let Bart’s little PT team get to working on stretching out his previously-bound now-physical legs and getting him upright—if only for a few seconds at a time, balanced precariously by humans who actually touch his back and arms and hips and legs.

Wally’s session wraps up before the kid’s does. He’s not in any rush. He gets onto the walking crutches Rhys leaves out for his temporary use and lopes over to watch, occasionally hooting and applauding when the kid pulls off something no one’d been sure he could do.

The double handed high-five Wally offers him at the end is punctuated with shaky eye contact, two working hands, and a green-threaded beaming grin.

*

Diana cheerfully digs into her kebab lunch, plastic cutlery pushed to their maximum limit before threatening to break under her prodigious strength. “You know, Batman,” she starts, beaming, “My charge gave me his name the other day.”

Bruce sets down his muenster-ham-and-whole-wheat sandwich mid-bite. “I’ll need to hear everything,” he says immediately, to which Diana tuts.

“Oh, Batman, I could never break his trust like that,” she says, sweet as anything. She finesses a bite of lamb from the skewer and takes a neat bite.

“…Wonder Woman,” Batman says.

“Hm?”

“Diana.”

“Is there something you needed, Bruce?” Diana asks, pleased with herself. There genuinely is very little that could be done with a vague description of a now-altered human form and a first name alone; besides, she genuinely does feel that hearing the boy’s name come from others’ lips would be upsetting for him. Danny offered his name to Diana alone, and so it shall remain until hers alone he offers it to others.

Still, she is not above bragging.

“I need information.” Bruce’s face underneath his mask is stone.

Diana dips a second chunk of lamb into a little container of tzatziki sauce. “Well, then,” she points out, “Shouldn’t you spend some time building rapport with my charge, then?”

The feared Batman of Gotham, father of a half-dozen highly trained heroes, bristles like a wet cat. The demeanor is almost comical. He knows what he looks like to non-Gothamite children. He knows his suit will make this fight for common familiarity an uphill battle.

Diana smugly works through her lunch and ignores Bruce’s silent brooding as he does the same.