#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 : 308

warnings : insecurities, fluff

summary : Pregnant reader being super tired and over worked and Diana taking care of her and talking to the baby and complaining about being too old to have a baby

your swollen feet were being placed on a newly fluffed pillow Diana set down for you as between each of her task she would stop to place few kisses on your tiny bump that held your little bean.

“i cant wait to meet you my little angel.” she sung out rubbing your belly as she laid down next to you cuddling into your side.

“our little princess” you say adjusting her hand moving it to the right side of your stomach placing her hand on the part you felt your little bean kicking.

she laughs insufferably as she felt the baby’s kicks vibrate off your belly as she watched your stomach contently. “be nice to mommy” she coos as she brings her head back down to study your stomach.

you quickly snuck your phone off the end table snapping a quick picture dedicating it to the phone album with thousands of pictures that contain Diana in them.

you hear her mumble a soft cry as you feel her body sink down on to your stomach as you rub her back. “huh?” you mutter before placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

“do you think im to old?….” she says as her voice grows insecure with herself as the pregnancy gained her criticism for waiting so long, diana’s reasoning was she wanted to wait for the right person and when she met you she knew then that you where destined to have her baby.

“your not to old baby, your perfect” you say softly trying to reassure her confidence in your relationship. your heart broke seeing her doubt herself as a mother role.

after talking with her for a while your sentence was cute short by the sounds of her relentless snores that bounced off the walls as her body created the perfect blanket for you.

[diana-rose-25]

— Seasons of Love

pairing: ex-girlfriend! Bada Lee x Reader

description: It left you a mess, the breakup with Bada Lee left you a mess. Promises broken and dreams together shattered, including you. Yet months after the unforeseen breakup, you know it's time to move on and choose yourself first, even after a certain someone enters your life again.

warnings: None. Angst

word count: 1106

status: unedited

now listening to:

"Hey," how you prayed to hear that voice months before. Yet with how cruel fate it, that is the sound of someone you no longer want to see ever again.

You blow the smoke out of your lips as the cold breeze of the night caresses your face, you hum in acknowledgment without looking at the person behind you. Too entranced by the city lights below you and frankly, too scared to face that person without breaking down in tears.

As you take another puff of the cigarette, you can hear the person make its way beside you and copied your position from the terrace, leaning against the barrier with her arms folded.

You let the silence engulf you both, only accompanied by the moon, the city lights, the heavy tension, and the music of the party inside, three feet apart.

Funny how this was the same night months ago, yet the atmosphere was much lighter, no party, only the company of each other, and bodies close and intertwined, at peace and happy.

Bada steals a glance from you, frowing as you take another puff of the cigarette between your fingers and lips.

"I thought you said you never liked or even tolerated smoking?" She asks before she can even think about it, cringing at herself for ruining the awkward moment in favor of asking you that question. She looks back at the city below as she discreetly pinches her arm.

"Yeah? Well, things changed I guess." You answered nonchalantly making Bada wither at the tone.

"Right," she clears her throat. "H-how are you?"

You roll your eyes at her, being nervous doesn't suit her, yet you couldn't care less.

Not after she so confidently broke up with you a couple months prior.

"Been better."

You've been working on yourself after she left you in the air on your own like a flightless bird thrown in the air by someone with a promise of catching you when you fall.

And fall you did in the dark abyss by yourself, drowning in your thoughts more and more after finding out she had someone new 2 months later.

Bada could only let out a cough nervously after your cold comment. She knows this is her fault.

Friendships and relationships were broken after what she did to you.

"(Y/N)?" She starts off, playing with her fingers as she looks at you. Adjusting her body to fully face you as she tries to reach out for your hand.

From your peripheral vision, you can see what she's trying to do. So without hesitation, you out the fire of your cigarette using the plate beside you and throw it out harshly out the street beneath you.

Bada recoils at the anger behind your throw and pulls her hand back.

You turn your head away from her, not wanting to see her hurt face from your action. Hoping she'll get the hint and leave you alone once and for all.

because standing here beside you hurts, it really hurts.

"I'm sorry." She says shakily, her hands forming into fists by her side to keep herself from crying in front of you. "I'm really sorry, (Y/N)."

You swalloed dryly, forcing yourself to let the tears stay in your eyes while you take a deep breath.

go away go away go away. Your mind repeats while your heart aches so much. you are the last thing I need or see right now.

You nod your head once without looking at her, and Bada wants to sob. Because deep down inside, she knew she did this to you.

She tried to get into a relationship after breaking up with you to forget, but it failed after a week. The cycle continues unhealthily but she knows her mind and heart will always return to you.

"C-come back," Bada breathes out quietly. "Please."

Funny how months ago, that was you. That was you begging her to come back after she left you in the dust with no explanation whatsoever.

Funny how you both were happy and content on a Thursday, and over on Saturday.

Funny how she expects you to do that after breaking up with you through text.

You let out a small laugh, finally allowing the tears to fall down as you stand up tall before facing her.

Bada never thought you could look any better than you already do despite your glossy eyes. You, wearing your favorite jacket and the wind blowing your hair, framing your face so beautifully. You, who she lets go in favor of listening to her fear without communicating with you. You, beautiful beautiful you.

"Stupid, stupid Bada." You say, walking towards her with hands in your pockets and a small smile on your face, yet it is deprived of happiness.

Bada wanted nothing more than to wipe the tear that went down your cheek, so she did. And you let it happen, resisting the instinct to lean into her warm palm.

"You willingly let me go months ago without hesitation," you start as Bada shakes hear head and gently cups your face this time with both of her hands.

"You chose to let me go without hesitation, Bada." Bada lets out a sob as she shuts her eyes tightly and presses her forehead against you.

You look at the woman you once loved break down in front of you, it aches your heart to see her like this. But you can't do anything about it but place your hand on top of hers, sliding your thumb against her in a comforting manner.

You both knew that this is the last time you'll ever be this close.

The last time Bada will get to hold you like this.

And the last time you'll allow yourself in her embrace and delude yourself that she'll choose you over anything else.

So you close your eyes and say, "there is no doubt and assurance in my mind that you won't do it again."

You step away from her and walk away before she can reach out and pull you close again.

Funny how you would give up anything to hear those from her months ago.

But this time, as you walk out of the door and away from the party, funny enough, that was the final thing you needed to do to finally let her go, and free yourself from the promises and dreams she once spoke.

This time, you're choosing your reality, no matter how painful it is to let go of someone you once loved.

It’s not always a happy ending, but its always a new beginning when a chapter closes.

— ©All Rights Reserved diana-rose-25

[im-not-buying-it-ether]

Decided to be fun about a body swap whump prompt and laughing at the pictures i put into the fic

Plastic man being overly animated in Arthurs body, trying to turn in body only his own could and realizing with popped joints and aching muscles that he doesn't bend like that right now.

Diana immediately ditching the Helmet of Fate when she's stuck in his body and hating every minute of this situation even harder bc of the body dysmorphia of suddenly being male

Clark just disappointed in everything because he got Oliver of all teammates as his body swap partner

Billy not handling the heels and different everything of suddenly being in Diana's body

and then there's Bruce who, the second he's in Marvels body, gets kicked out for one of his patrons to play dolls because Bruce dint know to keep them out of his head and not interfering

[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]

Not-So-Common-Sense (Part 22)

Previous | Masterpost | Next

“Ghosts are a sovran people, more than that we’re a sovereign nation,” Hyena boomed, speaking over the assembly as he demanded everyone stop whispering and pay attention to him. He glared at the assembled leaders as he transformed in sparks and flashes, hair turning white and muzzle transforming into a snarling skull until he was fully ghost. “And I am done listening to all of this bullshit, so enough debating. Now explain to the Crown Prince of the Infinite Realms why you have allowed these people to violate my people’s rights and hold me captive.” Danny-No Phantom demanded.

He was glad he didn’t have a heart to be pounding in his chest as with a wave of his hand he created a throne of ice and sat down in it. He pushed his mask up and as it dissolved a circlet of shimmering ice formed around his brow. It wasn’t the official crown, he had yet to take the crown of flame but it was just a bit of showmanship to add to the effect. He needed these people to take him seriously after all. Jason stepped up to stand beside him, and to Danny’s surprise Deadman came down to take the other side, leaving Ellie to perch on the back of his makeshift throne, draping herself comfortably there. Danny settled himself more comfortably and confidently in his chair, and in his new role because whether he was ready or not it was time to act and he had the people who mattered behind him without question.

“Explain to me why we should not go to war.” Danny demanded in a terrifying shadow of his ghostly wail.

“What, no, the ghosts don’t have any sort of leader or structure. They’re completely disorganized,” Agent W insisted. 

“That’s not true,” Deadman said, shaking his head. “Ghosts follow the strong and have always been a monarchy. We haven’t had an active king in centuries, since the last one went mad but it is well known that, when he is ready to, Phantom will be able to claim the throne. He is not lying about his position in the Infinite Realms and many spirits will follow him to war should he command it.”

“Including you?” Batman asked in a tone of mild curiosity that wasn’t fooling anyone that actually knew him. 

“I recognize Phantom’s authority. The only reason I didn’t bow and acknowledge him when he answered the Justice League’s call the first time was that he asked me not to. More importantly many others, including multiple Ancients, recognize his authority and will follow him if he asks even if he is not yet the true king. His threats are not idle.” 

“He should not be making threats at all! This is a diplomatic meeting,” One of the leaders exclaimed indignantly.

“Oh is it?” Danny asked, raising his eyebrows. “Because it sounded like what you were about to do was excuse and pardon their crimes against me and my people and offer them more resources. If that’s not what’s happening and you were about to mete out proper consequences then by all means, carry on and prove me wrong,” Danny said with a ‘go on’ gesture of one hand and leaned back in his chair, looking down his nose at the assembly. 

Silence hung awkward and heavy over the room, which was all the confirmation Danny needed of the bad direction things were starting to go. He tried very hard not to fidget under the eyes of so many people. He knew that he was the prince, he was going to be the king overseeing basically an entire dimension with other monarchs and leaders under him, he was of a higher rank than anyone here! If only he wasn’t still so young, with so much more to learn. Speaking of which...

“How do you people deal with crimes like imprisonment and torture without cause? There are punishments for these things aren’t there?” Danny asked, cocking his head. He’d never paid much attention to politics, and what little he knew about politics didn’t really give him much hope for how this would be handled. 

“Of course there are,” Diana said calmly, once again trying to force the room to move on or get left behind. He really did admire her ability to control the room as much as she did. “Since there is no question of the crimes the Ghost Investigation Ward did commit, the only question is what the consequences will be.” She looked around, but it seemed this time her attempt to nudge the leaders along had failed. 

“With all due respect, ‘Your Majesty’,” Agent W directed at Danny, not even trying to hide her skepticism and contempt of his title. It made Danny bristle and got his hackles up immediately. To her credit, she didn’t flinch under his glowing glare. “It’s not our job to protect your people, we need to protect our own.” 

Danny heard a few murmurs of agreement, he looked down for a moment thinking about that and trying not to bite his lip. He should stay, he should try to argue further and come to a peaceful solution, but he had been doing that for years! He had always just avoided the humans who hunted him, he had barely even defended himself from them for years, and he was done trying to be nice, to play by their rules.  

“Right,” He said, standing up and surveying the collective leaders. “Who agrees with her perspective?” He asked scanning the collective.

There was a moment's hesitation before hands started to raise. He nodded firmly and looked back at Agent W. “Good, you protect your people,” he sneered, “ and I’ll do the same. Red Hood, Phantasm, let’s go,” Danny said and turned away, taking Hood’s hand and pulling him out through the wall, Phantasm followed. When Danny noticed Deadman looking torn, Danny gave him a small smile; “Stay with your team, there should still be one of us in the room. If they come to their senses let me know.”

He left the room through the wall and let invisibility cloak them as he grabbed Phantasm as well and flew straight up into the sky, not so high that Jason would struggle to breath but far enough they’d be guaranteed privacy. He let go of Phantasm since she could float on her own but kept Jason held close so gravity could not reclaim them.

“So, you’re not just giving up,” Jason said casually, “So, you have a plan?”

“Yes I have a plan,” Phantom agreed with a solemn nod. “It’s not my first choice, and I don’t really want to talk about it in case it fails. If it works I’ll let you know, if not you can help me brainstorm a plan B. Okay?” He glanced at the two of them, Jason didn’t hesitate in agreeing, Phantasm looked worried, but she nodded too. “Thank you. Phantasm take Jason please, you two stay put. I need to go… get something, and I have a feeling they’ll be calling us back soon once they see the storm they’ve unleashed on themselves.” He said with a thin smile. 

“Right?” Phantasm said, she still sounded uncertain but she offered Jason her hand, and when he took it she took over keeping gravity at bay. 

Danny smiled and drifted closer, kissing Jason’s helmet softly. “I’ll be back soon, just trust me okay?” He asked, ruffling Ellie’s hair. 

“I always trust you, Cub,” Jason said, sounding tired but fond even through the helmet’s modulators. 

“Just… don’t do anything stupid string-bean,” Ellie sighed. 

“I’ll try pipsqueak,” Danny agreed before speeding away from both of them. 

He needed to find his way back into the Ghost Zone but that wouldn’t be easy but it was far from impossible. There were natural portals opening up somewhere in the galaxy all the time, and Danny could get back in contact with Wulf somehow if he needed to. How he wasn’t sure, but he was on a time crunch so he had better figure it out fast. He didn’t want to leave Ellie and Jason hanging and time was of the essence. He had a feeling he could sense portals if he really tried, other ghosts seemed to know where they were after all! He just needed to get away from any distractions, to where his mind was clearest and his core shone the brightest, and for him that would always be space.

Once he was far enough away that the earth was a frisbee amongst the stars Danny settled into a cross legged position and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath he didn’t need and exhaled slowly, trying to remember what little he knew about meditation and, like, opening one’s third eye. 

“Alright portal, where are you,” He murmured rolling his shoulders, only to jump out of his skin when he heard a crackle and boom right under him. He shot up as he opened his eyes, half expecting an attack only to see a swirling green portal directly under him. “Great, of course,” He sighed, and let himself drop into it. 

The green resolved into the large foyer of the ghost kings palace surrounded by the observants and a few ancients. 

“We’ve been waiting for you,” Chorused the observants.

“Great, how long have you guys been watching me? Fucking weirdos,” Danny muttered, but he couldn’t stay angry as Frostbite cheered and rushed in to hug him, scooping him up in a bearhug that would have cracked a rib if he had any. Clockwork followed more slowly, moving slowly and leaning on his cane, a thin smile on his elderly lips. 

“It is good to see you, Young One. I'm sorry I know you haven’t had an easy time. I’ve been watching over you but didn’t feel it was possible for me to step in. Despite it all, you’ve done really well,” Clockwork said. He looked nervous, and Danny couldn’t blame him, he couldn’t count the number of times he had cursed Clockwork when things were at their worst, for not intervening to save him, but now…

“It's alright, I made it out and I found a new purpose. I assume if you had saved me I would have just spiralled or something like that?” He asked with a crooked smile that was really more of a grimace. It wasn't really okay, it would never be okay that Danny had lost his family and a part of him would never forgive Clockwork for having had the power to stop it and didn't. But he had also learned there was no point in holding Clockwork to human or present focused morals, he had his reasons and felt justified. Trying to hold Clockwork accountable would be counterproductive and maddening, he did trust Clockwork meant well.

“Something like that,” Clockwork agreed, mirroring Danny’s expression as he reversed into his child form. The expression looked very odd on his child-like face. 

“We've been waiting for you,” the Observants chorused again, apparently impatient with the reunion. “Are you ready to take the crown?”

“Wow hello to you too,” Danny sassed, rolling his eyes at the ridiculous collective of giant eyeballs. “Yes, I'm ready,” Danny agreed, standing straight and holding his head high. He looked sure, even though he really wasn’t, but there was no putting this off any longer. “Release Pariah Dark and I'll be waiting for him in the world of our last battle.”

“That is not how-” 

“I don't care if that's not how it's done, that's how I'm going to do it,” Danny interrupted the Observants. He really hasn't spent much time with them after his first defeat of Pariah and his capture but he was already familiar with the phrase.

“It is tradition to-” they started again and Danny interrupted with a growl. 

“If I'm going to be king, this is a good time to get in the habit of obeying me. Release him, I'm sure he'll want revenge so he can find me in the world of our last confrontation and I'll defeat him properly this time, on my terms,” Danny insisted, bearing his teeth in a snarl. He knew that they weren't pleased, but he didn't care, he didn't plan on his rule to be dictated by trading so they could get used to it. 

The Observants didn't have any mouths but he was sure that if they did they would look like they'd just bitten into a lemon. He'd never really understood why they were like this, Pariah Dark couldn't have been particularly obedient to tradition, but maybe he’d been gone so long they'd forgotten what it was actually like to have a ruler and only had the idealized version from inside their own minds. “As you wish,” they agreed sourly.

“That’s better,” Danny smiled thinly, there was little joy in this situation but he could find some in pissing off these uptight bastards. He nodded to them and looked back at Clockwork, he must know what Danny was planning and Danny was a bit surprised Clockwork didn't seem to have any objections. When he had intervened before it had been to stop Danny going ‘bad’. Maybe this time was different because Danny wasn’t planning to cause the damage himself, just… allow it to happen.

“You will be a good kind Danny,” Clockwork said softly. “Sometimes a leader has to compromise their own values to do what’s best for their people.”

“Ya, I’m not sure that’s what I’m doing Clockwork, those people hurt me worst of all, I think I have some pretty personal motivations,” Danny said bitterly.

“Even so,” Clockwork said with a shrug and a knowing smile that set Danny’s teeth on edge.

“Right,” He grumbled as he turned and walked back through the still open portal before turning and slashing through it from the other side. They would have a hard time opening another in the exact same location, not that Danny was planning on sticking around here, but the less of the universe and the more of Earth Pariah would have to rip through before he found Danny the better. He grinned far too wide and rocketed back towards earth. 

He had done it! Pariah would be right on his heels and that bastard had no respect for human life. He would give the stupid humans something to fear~ By the end of the day they’d be groveling and begging for Danny to save them, and maybe he even would, if they asked very nicely. 

He stopped on a dime next to his fiance and little sister again. They both jumped at his sudden appearance which made Danny laugh, Jason had taken off his helmet and his look of shock was particularly amusing! It was usually so hard to sneak up on the hypervigilant man. Danny reached out to take Jason back from Ellie and settled himself comfortably in Jason's lap while Jason wrapped his arms firmly around Danny's waist so he wouldn't fall. Ellie mimed gagging at the display of affection but didn't say anything. 

“So, what did you do Danny? You weren't gone long enough to have gotten that far. Did it not work out?” Jason asked curiously and Danny gave him an impish smile.

“Oh no, it worked. I'm sure the Justice League will be calling us in just a few minutes once word gets to them about what just entered their dimension.” Even as Danny was talking he felt the change, the wave of dark energy that had just broken through the barrier between worlds. He didn't react, but it made Ellie stumble. 

Danny remembered this dark energy from last time he'd fought Pariah but he had thought that was just because he had been nearby. It was disconcerting to know it could be felt at such a distance by those sensitive enough. Danny was sure he could handle this, but for a moment he was still worried he'd bitten off more than he could chew. 

“Danny, what did you do?” She asked, sounding seriously worried.

“I released Pariah Dark,” he told her plainly, no point being cryptic now since this wasn't exactly a fun surprise. Her look of horror was cold water dumped on the burning coals of his rage and he winced.  “Go back to your team Starlight, keep them safe but don't get yourself in trouble. This is… not going to be pretty,” he told her gently. He wasn't ashamed of what he was doing, not really. But he did worry about how she would feel about him afterwards, especially if one of her friends was hurt in the fall out. 

Jason's phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket as Ellie rushed away from the two of them, back towards Titans tower. Danny watched her go, biting his tongue so he wouldn’t call her back and selfishly try to keep her safe. She and Jason were the ones he loved most but it would be selfish to hold her safely prisoner, especially when Jason's family was bound to be out there too.

“That can't be them already?” Danny asked Jason worriedly, forcing himself to look away from Phantasm’s retreating form to check the notification on Jason’s phone. She was strong and clever, she’d be alright, he needed to have faith in her. 

“It's not, it's an emergency alert. He didn’t waste any time fucking shit up did he?” Jason asked, unlocking his phone and opening social media. It was already starting to flood with half corrupted videos and pictures of Pariah Dark and his army of skeletons. He had landed somewhere in the US by the looks of things, which Danny was glad of, and all the videos were full of screaming and fire. Occasionally he bellowed demands for Danny to show himself, but they were in ghost speak so none of the humans understood what he was asking for. 

“Damn that's one big mother fucker,” Jason whistled. “So that's the mad king?” 

“Yes,” Danny sighed, leaning his head against Jason’s chest. “Now we just see how long it takes for those idiots down there to realize the GIW's weapons are like water guns to him. I'm not going to negotiate with them anymore, but I will accept their surrender and once they've agreed to all my terms I'll deal with him.” 

“Isn’t he coming for you? Why’s he in America?” Jason asked as he kept refreshing his social media feed. 

“He can’t tell where I am, I could find him but I’m less flashy then he is, and I got used to minimizing my ecto-signature to avoid the GIW. Pretty sure he’s hoping that if he causes destruction he’ll smoke me out since last time I fought him it was to protect my town. Not this time, it’s not my job to protect these people anymore, they’ve made it very clear they don’t want me too,” Danny sneered, rolling his eyes.

Jason nodded gravely, and hugged Danny more tightly, he knew this hadn't been an easy choice. Danny nestled in against Jason's chest, his eyes glowing brighter than usual with anger and sorrow. 

“How are you feeling, Moonlight?” Jason asked softly. They had some time as the GIW rushed to arrive on scene and prove how useless they were. “This means that you’re going to be king after this doesn’t it?” 

“I'm not sure how I feel,” Danny sighed, biting his lip for a moment before continuing. “I wish it felt better, more righteous. I wanted revenge but most of the people being hurt had no idea what their government was even doing, and they're suffering for it, so I can't really feel good about it anymore. But I also don't exactly feel bad about it either, you know? And a part of me wishes I did because I tried so hard to be good when I was younger and how little I care now feels like a failure. 

“But then again I guess it was Sam that really insisted I use my powers for good. I was a teenage boy and other than protecting my friends my first instincts were to sneak into the girls locker room, and douse my bully in half spoiled meat. Maybe I was just never that good.” He sighed, hanging his head and trying to swallow down the uncomfortable knot of shame and dread in his stomach. 

“As for being king, I never really wanted to be king, but Clockwork seems to think that’ll just make me a better king, I hope he’s right. And I do think I'm ready, with you, your siblings, and Ellie I finally feel like I have a firm foundation again. Your proposal felt like the last puzzle piece I needed to feel whole, I'm as ready as I'll ever be.” 

“You are good Danny, and you'll be a good king, but even good people have their breaking point. It's their fault they pushed you to yours. The Justice League and the Teen Titans will be on the scene to help evacuate soon and I’m sure it won’t be too long before those idiots down there will realize they’re up shit’s creek and call for help soon.”

[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

[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

[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.

[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.