#i mean i could just message their system and ask how he is but then id come off as an asshole
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dykedvonte · 3 months ago
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You ever just see a Mouthwashing take that makes you want to bang your head into a wall? I literally just saw someone claim Curly couldn't have been emotionally abused by Jimmy before the crash because he was in a higher position of power than Jimmy.
-Shrimp Anon
The mouthwashing fandom has shown me that people genuinely do believe that certain types of abuse are not as detrimental as other types especially when they deem those immune/resistant, ergo, believing one is objectively worse no matter how it affects the person nor the intersections of power, history and dynamics at play.
Get ready cause this is a yap session:
Cause like it's heavily implied that Curly and Jimmy's friendship was toxic and abusive, pointedly in the direction of how Jimmy uses Curly's belief/comfort in him. Curly wasn't forced to enable Jimmy but he was emotional and mentally on edge around him in almost every scene in some way. Mental and emotional abuse are not contingent on what positions you have at work. Yeah, he's Jimmy's boss but he was Jimmy's friend first and it's like getting into Psych discussion to talk about how social power tends to overshadow any perceived organizational power in the human mind. People are concerned about their jobs ofc but they tend to hang onto and put more value/investment into their personal relationships, hence why there tends to be laws and restrictions around mixing the two.
I always see the sentiments that "Curly is a grown ass man", "Curly is bigger than Jimmy", "Curly is Jimmy's boss", "He just needed a backbone" as criticisms of Curly and while I do agree that on the surface level all of these to be true and viable ways Curly could've taken more control of the situation, I often look at the parallels of Anya and Curly as victims of Jimmy pre/post crash.
The way Jimmy talks to Anya post crash is how he talked to Curly in the pre-crash segments. It's hard to pin-point mainly because we know he hates and wants nothing to do with Anya compared to his contrary but similarly handled obsessions with Curly. It's a weird sort of "honey-moon" effect of abuse Jimmy does in terms of emotional and mental victimization. He is always horrid to Anya, always talking down or questioning her abilities and thoughts in a situation, this of course includes the harassment and assault. However, he has a moment of attempted gentleness/conditioning when he question her about the mouthwash when she's contemplating drinking it at the table. The key difference is he has no personal investment in Jimmy outside wanting nothing to do with him, meaning there is no sort of romanticized version of him that he can condition her off of. He knows this, hence, why he always reverts to trying to make her to scared to oppose him.
This sort of give and take of "kindness" doesn't work on her because she knows he is just doing it to take more from her than whatever he could possibly give but it reflects even the "softer" scenes between him and Curly where he always rewords or rephrases Curly's sentiments and concerns to sound more shallow. He is feigning a deeper understanding by reworking Curly's emotions into something bad and needing to be hidden. Everything is laced with envy and resentment, an outburst just around the corner, I mean he even slams the table in the birthday party scene, a tactic in emotional manipulation to set the victim on edge and cloud their ability to respond. Even if Curly knows Jimmy won't get physical in that moment, the physical actions is intended to make him back down in the confrontation in case it does. This is something that is just not person specific. It ingrains itself into how you interact with the world and life and it shows in major and minor ways with Curly.
Post-crash, the abusive nature is more in tandem to the physical victimization Anya went through and the stripping of voice and autonomy we see take place. Like the parasite in HFIM, Jimmy speaks for Curly most of the time and puts words in his mouth, similarly to how he takes Anya's plans as his own. He very commonly, with the both of them mind you, supplements the worst aspects of himself into them; pettiness, selfishness, lack of understanding... And tries to cover himself with their best qualities; kindness, planning, initiative, etc...
These parallel are just to say that positional power has little to do with if a person can be abused and how it can even be flipped to further the abuse. There is no doubt that Curly could've picked up on Jimmy's envy of his position hence another reason he never confronted him as a Captain but as a friend as doing so would immediately put Jimmy in a space to be confrontational/combative.
I think the disdain some people have when they talk about the heavily implied if not implicitly stated emotional/mental abuse Curly experienced being Jimmy's friend is when treating it as an excuse to why he didn't do more. I can understand that completely because it is not an excuse to why he didn't do more but is a very real reason people in his position in these scenarios can experience whether in the context of a work or social environment. However, I also think the way people talk about it really does demonstrate a bigger problem when talking about abuse when somehow who is/was abused is either part of the issue or enabled it.
Harkening back to the sentiments about Curly's inaction regarding Jimmy, I think the exact phrases I used/have seen show how there is an inherent belief that it is easier to overpower the effects of emotional/mental abuse that go in tandem with the perception of Curly as someone who should be able to. There is not an age you suddenly stop being susceptible to abuse nor a set point or low where you realize how it has affected you. You don't suddenly know to stand up or put a face on to face your abuser nor admit that you inadvertently enabled them to subjugate someone else to the same treatment. Maybe it's my psych brain but their is this growing belief that direct action is somehow easy or always the best method with the game shows you instances where it is not always the case. In real life that rings true too. He should have done more, but it's not impossible to see why he struggled to find a way or didn't even if it makes us mad.
It's not easy to suddenly gain a "back-bone". You don't immediately want to resort to aggression, especially if it mirrors the type you were a victim to. You don't want to believe you allowed yourself to be treated this bad, let it get that bad or allowed something bad to happen to someone else. It is easy to be in denial, to retreat to your thoughts or make excuses to avoid the painful truth. It's frustrating but in a way we know is relatable. It why we both hate and love Curly for it. We know we'd be better, we think we'd be better, we like to think we wouldn't falter in the same ways but it's always easier to say that from the outside looking in. It's easy to see what he was doing wrong because we are seeing it, not him, but the game really does make you picture what you would do if this was your raw reality and it's why this debate about Curly seems so never ending/contradictory. We can all say what we'd do but bottom line is that's much different when you're in the moment with all the emotions and human feelings attached.
I personally think Mouthwashing tackles the themes of rape culture, enabling, toxic masculinity, types of abuse and patriarchy in ways that are meant to deconstruct the typical straightforward views we mostly have of these concepts and how little subtilities of them are just as, if not more, detrimental than the overt/obvious parts. The game deals with the idea of little details and bigger picture in a way to show that sometimes the bigger picture is not the issue but the little details that make it up. It's why I have a personal dislike of depictions of Jimmy as the typical horrible person who would of course do something like this because the game is about noticing the little warning signs, the foreshadowing and foresight.
It's why I dislike the typical discussion of "bro code" and "boys will be boys" for the game because the game makes a point to avoid the standard depictions of such. It is about the type of men who still enable despite not condoning, agreeing or even perpetuating harmful beliefs because they can't see the little details or the ways it seeps into their everyday. The severity is not obvious to them as it was not obvious to Curly, Swansea or even Daisuke the way it was to a woman like Anya. There are little details about Jimmy that should ring alarms but if you are too naive like Daisuke, too distant like Swansea or too conditioned like Curly, they are just off markers.
There is 100% more constructive/concise ways to say "Curly was a victim of Jimmy's abuse on an emotional and mental aspect that clouded his judgements and perceptions in the scenario" while also critiquing on the side of "Curly still had a responsibility to protect Anya as a crew mate and Captain that he failed to do due to biases and stigma's he failed to surpass" without the weird condemnation people give him about should've knowing better than to let himself be manipulated by a person he considered a close, if not family/best-friend and had his own reasons to trust initially. Also stop being weird about victims of abuse in general with this fandom, like sorry not everyone has a like social epiphany the moment someone's nasty to them. People are treating it like you immediately know when you are in a toxic relationship immediately or comprehend when a person is actively dangerous and either it's your fault for not knowing how to leave/cut them off or you deserve it. Like the hypocrisy of people believing how certain fans treat the story reflect their irl views but not their own is crazy.
End statement is: I honestly don't even know man, I've been writing this too long and just like no man on that ship was perfect or really helped Anya when it mattered and I feel like pitting them against each other in discussion on who did the least or most or how it was justified sucks cause in the end Anya always did the most and best thing for herself.
#i also think it is because mouthwashing is first and foremost a game about rape culture and the patriarchy especially in work spaces#regarding women and centering conversation around Curly a man rubs people wrong because it does overshadow that commentary#but it still mixes other topics into its initial theming and message on how abuse conditions you to accept certain things that are harmful#and how getting used to a culture/enviornment does not mean you are happy healthy or most importantly safe in it. I personally like to#explore those aspects where it mixes all the themes so we can discuss the ways you have to watch out for things because there is a differen#in the idea Curly enabled Jimmy just because they were bros and because he was an example of another man afraid to step out from what#is a still oppressive system that does try to punish those who act against it even if they fall in the category of those who would benefit#from it as Jimmy and PE 100% represent that sort of misogynistic system where men that would be “good” are altered until they follow line#in a way both on the personal and professional level as PE is the corporate lock out and Jimmy represents the social and its just the issue#that the discussion of it sounds like “in defense of men” when I am more so trying to discuss how it is much deeper than men being scared t#upset other men but complacency is rewarded by not becoming another person subjugated hence as all the moments Curly does try to do#something we can tie it back to how Jimmy reacts and a possible penality from PE where we now need to address the ways to combat those#two concepts so we dont get cases like Curly or Daisuke or Swansea where male avoidance of the issue is considered neutral or even good.#i think most of this boils down the perfect victim mentality to where if someone who underwent or is being abused is not a perfect example#or accpetible type than their abuse can not be considered a valid or substantial reason for effects on their behavior compounded with the#fact that Anya's abuse at the hands of Jimmy is a systematic issue that Curly is a part of even if unwillingly and was more physically#violating and topical cause sometimes i have to remind myself that all media is still critiqued through the lens of the culture it came out#in cause i do think about what if this game came out inlike 2014 like the conversations would be sooooooo different could you imagine it?#but back the before statement Curly isn't perfect but I feel like boiling it down if hes a good person or man is not the point of the game#but more so good people can still be part of the problem and the idea of condemning a person for one act creates a false sense of#rightouesness and justice that does not aid the victim and in fact aids the abusers in escaping blame for their mulitple behaviors as we se#how the men on the ship tend to blame Jimmy for just one act against them including himself while there is a plethora of things Anya is#concerned about with Jimmy#and its not that Curly just made one mistake with Jimmy but more so we consider his actions more damning because he didn't stop Jimmy#instead of focusing on the fact Jimmy did what he did regardless of Curly and the consequence because we already know he's bad n maladjuste#which is problem in the conversation where the individuals are blamed but the system and perputrator are overlooked in a sense of acceptiab#complacency as we know how they are and the lack of tangibility to personally affect them on a larger scale like I should just make a post#on like cutting out the face when it comes it confronting systems of oppression rather than tag talking but just ask me to clarify if#you want that like im jus trying to say we avoid talking about Jimmy and PE so much cause it is obvious what they do wrong that we make#the initial and inherent problem out to be one aspect someone in this case Curly does and the the constraints they use to force actions
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luveline · 10 months ago
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do you have anything more from office frenemies with james? i just read it and i loved it so much
yes! love u ty
—you and James don’t get along until you kind of, sort of do. fem!reader, 1.5k
James listens to the most obnoxious playlist in the mornings. There’s about a fifteen minute window between when he arrives and when the workday officially starts, which coincides exactly with your window. He often gets the same elevator ride, walks a pace beside you, and decides whether he’s going to let the ‘lady’ go first through the door depending on the day. 
That morning, he’d opened the door widely, grinned at you with music blaring loud enough to make a normal person deaf from his earphones, and let you pass. Then he pretended to stick his foot out to trip you up, pulling it back at the last second. 
Jerk, you think, angry even now as he tucks himself into his desk, his earphones still ridiculously loud. He actually, genuinely, is going to get hearing damage. You’re not being bitter. Human ears aren’t meant for that. 
You click onto the workplace Outlook and open a tab on your desktop. How loudly can you listen to music? you google. A few articles appear straight away that fit your purpose —you drag them each into an empty email. Then, smiling to yourself, you find an article on the negative effects of workplace noise pollution and how this sort of selfishness can affect your coworkers’ mental health and add that at the very top. 
Hi James, 
please find attached a few articles I felt might be important for you to read.
Worst, 
Your unhappy adjacent desk. 
You know he’s received it when he laughs loudly, turning down his music with a few quick clicks on his phone. 
An email comes through to your inbox shortly after.
Hi bestie, 
I’m so so sorry for the noise. Please find attached a few articles I, in turn, felt you might enjoy. 
Best, 
James Potter :) 
He’s attached an irksome variation of articles. Why music can help you get ready for the day. Ten ways workplace friendships are important. Can you really find your soulmate at work? 
You open your personal messaging system. You tend not to use it with James, but this morning he’s winding you up. 
I could report you to HR for that last one, you send. 
He replies quickly. You try very hard not to look up at him from over your desktop. I didn’t mean me. 
You’ll be deaf by thirty. 
Jealous you don’t have such great taste in music? 
Jealous of everyone in the annex. 
Want a cup of coffee?
You meet his gaze finally over the computer, find him already looking at you. You shake your head scornfully. In what world would you ever want him to make you a coffee? He’s never actually offered to make you one before, to be fair, but he’s awful to you so what are you supposed to think? He’ll probably poison it. 
He stands to leave. Remus, the other accountant to complete your trio, arrives while he’s gone with his boyfriend Sirius in tow. They’re also James’ best friends, unfortunately. It makes for some awkwardness. 
“Where is he?” Remus asks you, in the midst of a quick goodbye kiss before Sirius makes his way to his desk further down the office. 
You nibble your lip and give a dispassionate shrug. You hate talking about James. You hate his stupid mess of hair, his reading glasses, his lips when he smiles crookedly and worse when he’s glaring at you. You hate the way he sighs as he clicks his neck, the quick lap he does every other hour complaining of tired legs, the genuine tenderness he shows you whenever you’re sick. You hate James. You don't like to think about him too much lest you get caught, a fish in a net.
Or a fish with a painful hook in its lip. 
“Ah, you’re here,” James says, two cups of coffee in his hand. 
You’re only a little heartbroken when he puts one on his desk and one on Remus’. Didn’t want one anyways. 
Remus grins as James comes up behind him for a rough hug and hair ruffle. “How was last night?” 
“I wish you’d come. Sirius spent all night trying to out drink Marl, you know he can’t, so I spent all night holding his hair out of his face. I wasn’t gonna talk to him this morning, but he was being very pathetic.” 
James laughs. You pretend you aren’t listening to them, pretend you don’t feel left out even if they have no reason to be your friend, clicking at random things on your screen and scrolling through spreadsheets long finished and filed. “You know I couldn’t come, Moony,” —no point starting on their awful nicknames— “what if she needed me?” 
You still. She? 
“James, there’s not much you can do,” Remus says gently. He’s a quiet, soft sort of man, but they’re all so loud about loving one another. “You have to let her… you know.” 
You feel them both looking at you, your gaze steadfast on your screen. 
“Try not to think about it,” Remus says. 
“I’ve been distracting myself,” James agrees. 
Oh, you think. Oh. I’m such a dick. 
“You could go home?” Remus says, putting his face in his hand. “I could cover you.” 
“It’s too much work.” 
“I know, but, you know, I’ll do half, and you’ll only have half to catch up on when you come back.” 
You’re not sure who she is, and you very much still don’t like James Potter, but you're not heartless. He sounds awfully upset, fragility to his voice and a foreign balling of his fist by his hip. “Um,” you say, clearing your throat weakly, “well, with me and Remus, we could cover for you.” 
James’ face is unreadable, looking down at you. “You’d cover for me?” he asks. 
“Your work isn’t exactly hard, James.” 
“But you’d do it?” 
“How long will you be off for?” 
James frowns. “Like, two days?” he says quietly. 
“That’s fine. We can do that,” you say, checking with Remus from around James hip. “Yeah?” 
“Of course,” Remus says quickly. 
James looks at you long and hard. “You’re not kidding?” 
“No, James. Not kidding. You’d do the same for me, right?” 
James leans down to hug you before you can stop him. His arms wrap around your shoulders, a perfectly amicable touch made up of sleeper muscle and the attractive smell of almond oil, nearly sweet, slightly woody. He laughs against your cheek as he pulls away, turning back to Remus for a similar hug. “Thank you. I’ll go tell Danny right now.” He beams at you. His relief is thick as honey, palpable in his warm tone. “Thank you.” 
You can’t look at him very long. 
The memory of his fingers linger, the weight of his arm behind your head. He excuses himself to go talk to your boss, and you and Remus sit in a semi-awkward silence, of which you’re wholly responsible. 
“His cat is dying,” Remus says eventually.
You wince. “Oh, no, really?” you ask. 
“He’s had her since we were kids. It’s really nice of you to do this.”
“I really do think he’d do it for me,” you interrupt. “I’m not, you know, cruel, because we don’t get on.” 
“I know. James knows that too.” 
You want to get defensive. Why does it matter if James knows? But Remus is too nice to argue with, and secretly, strangely, you’d wanted James to know you aren’t mean. You wouldn’t have sent him that email this morning if you’d known, and maybe this is apology enough for that. 
Still, it doesn’t feel right when James returns, gathering his suit jacket from the back of his chair. “Thank you guys, so much. I will bring you the most amazing desserts of all time as a thank you. I won’t even put your mug on the top shelf the next time I wash it,” James promises you. 
You bat aside the rage of knowing he’s the culprit and instead get out of your seat before he can leave. “Uh, James?” you ask. 
He raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?” 
You look at the floor by his shoes. “About earlier…”
James stands subtly between you and the bulk of the office. “You okay?” 
“I just– I’m sorry for complaining about your earphones. I wasn’t trying to be insensitive.” 
“You weren’t insensitive,” he says, “I was being obnoxious. Don’t worry about it, okay?” 
“I–” You hate yourself for all your stammering. “Hope whatever is wrong, that you’re okay. I’ll cover for you for the week if you need me to.” 
“Please stop feeling sorry for me. It looks weird on you. I much prefer you when you’re frowning, you get these super deep wrinkles in your forehead that I just love.” 
You turn away without looking up. “I’m gonna input all your sales information wrong.” 
“And I’m gonna bring you the best donut you’ve ever tasted to say thanks, sweetheart.” 
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gothhabiba · 3 months ago
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@ anon
I think it might be actually dangerous to publish your ask, but I'm sure from my response people will be able to tell what it's about anyway.
You're full of actual, absolute shit if you're pretending not to know by now that verification processes to ensure the legitimacy of Ghazzawin's fundraisers have been undertaken, and that details about what these processes entail have been shared by several people. Several people, some of them currently in Gaza, put themselves through countless hours of work video-calling people, judging their knowledge of dialectical Arabic, seeing their faces and their children's faces and their living conditions, seeing IDs and bank information, asking invasive, personal questions that they didn't want to be asking & that the people responding probably didn't want to be answering, and physically visiting people in Gaza and video-recording their interactions, just so that people like you could be sure that these fundraisers were legitimate. If you're ignoring all of the blood & tears that went into that process just so you can hand-wring about scams, no one needs to be concerned with convincing you of the legitimacy of anything, because you were never going to donate to these people anyway. You are just looking for any plausible-sounding excuse not to do what you already didn't want to do.
If, by some miracle, you actually didn't know about the verified fundraiser spreadsheet (which is frankly still blameable bc, where on earth have you been?), then there it is. The post of mine that you're referring to never even mentioned responding to asks; using this spreadsheet is an absolutely valid, reasonable way of donating directly to families.
Now let me treat some of your statements as though they were questions (which, they were not).
How do people in Gaza have internet access?
Internet infrastructure in Gaza is very robust (e.g. in what cables are made of, how deep they're buried, amounts of redundancy in the system, &c.) because they have been getting bombed by Israel all the fucking time for decades, so they expect this infrastructure to be put through a lot. There have still--if you've been following the situation at all--been several outages caused by damage that Ghazzawin have needed to repair. Though I do have to say that I find it odd that you doubt Ghazzawin have internet access, but also say that you buy eSims...?
A lot of people right now are indeed connected via eSim, which to my understanding only need to connect to wifi once, right when they're activated. People put themselves at risk to connect to eSims because they need to get a good wifi signal, which usually means walking for several miles trying to find high ground. One of my contacts once urgently called me (this is the only time he hadn't just texted) because he had been told his friend had found a signal and so they needed an eSim right then, before they went back to their tent.
I've been trying for some time to connect another of my contacts in Gaza to an eSim, but we're not having success. At Crips for eSims for Gaza they / we (I'm on the server getting advice and helping out but I'm not using their funding; I'm using what people on tumblr have given me to purchase eSims with) keep a constantly updated sheet of which eSim providers use which networks and which networks work in which areas--because the situation is constantly changing. Because my contact doesn't have an eSim on a personal phone, she has to go to a central location to be allotted three hours of internet access from someone who has managed to get connected. Lots of people, on their fundraising posts and pages, specify exactly how they've gotten internet access, how difficult it's been for them to get it, and how stressful it is to be relying on this tenuous connection, spending hours away from their families (at high risk of being shot at by IOF soldiers the whole time), just to message people for hours straight and then go home again.
2. How do people in Gaza have tumblr accounts?
This is a stupid question. Anyone with an email address who is capable of picking a username and password can make a tumblr account. I have personally helped several of my contacts in Gaza with the process.
3. How do people in Gaza know to come into people's tumblr accounts?
This is also a stupid question. I don't really see how you could ask this question if you saw Palestinians as, like, real humans beings. You understand that people talk to each other, yes? Like with words? As soon as a few people had success fundraising to evacuate Gaza on tumblr (nearly a year ago... this news has had a lot of time to spread), obviously they told other people about it.
One of the ways that Israel conducts its genocidal war is through the destructiveness of frustration and boredom. It's a strange situation because everything is extremely dire, urgent, terrifying, and dirty, but there's also seldom anything to do. People are singing, telling stories, going to the beach, inventing games and contests, to entertain children, but also to entertain themselves. And this is the situation--with a bunch of desperate, bored people packed into a tiny piece of land--this is the situation that you think it's impossible for people to talk to each other in? Come on.
If you want to donate to Anera and World Food Kitchen and buy eSims, that's fantastic. Please do that. But if you are as ignorant of the particulars of what this situation is like as your ask makes you appear, then I hope you refrain from speaking on what the situation is like.
I've been nattering on for a long time so here's my call to action:
Decide what you're capable of giving right now, or the next time you get paid
Scroll down on the vetted fundraiser spreadsheet and find someone very low on funds, or with injured children who urgently need treatment or evacuation, and give that money.
AND / OR give it to the PCRF or the IRW
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coldilikeit · 1 month ago
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Isekai reader x Batfam (Neglected au)
Female reader
Chapter 7- the true princess of Wayne Manor
Short chapter*
_____________________________
"(Name)... I noticed something from you" Dick says "When you try something new, you stop pursuing it if you're not immediately good at it"
A reincarnated and two vigilantes go rock climbing, sounds like the start of an awful joke huh?
After the continued event of you encountering the villains and school shooters, they decided to teach you some stuff, Karate, Muay Thai, Taekwondo, jujitsu, painting, swimming, Camping, Ziplining, trying the scary roller coaster rides-
Huh?
This is slowly starting to feel like family outings
You jump further up "What do you mean?", He looks up at you "I mean... When we went swimming and Damian dived you wanted to try it out too, but when you realized you couldn't do it you just stopped, but when we tried archery and you could do it, you wanted to stay there longer"
"I just don't want to keep on trying on a lost cause, I hate feeling helpless and disappointed" you say, as you three reached the top, you rest for a bit and Jason hands you a bottle of water "what kind of helpless?" He asked
"When mom was sick, we had one problem, and it was money, I thought to myself that it'll be okay since I know how to make money, just give me a couple of months and we'll have what we need, turns out we didn't have a couple of months, I worked really hard and I was just disappointed that I couldn't save her, there I promised myself I wouldn't try on a lost cause" you drank the whole bottle and even burped after"Excuse me"
"I mean" you stated "Why didn't you think I never even tried to get along with you guys, first meeting Damian calls me an 'it', who'd expect family after that" you laugh
Nevermind the fact that you know you're in a world where they're not supposed to love you
After losing your family the first time, and your mom the second time, knowing you'll have no one after that was depressing, you wanted to at least defy the system, you told yourself that if you tried to get along with them, maybe they'll accept you
The system quickly shut that thought down by telling you that "In any of the fics you've read, were any of the readers successful?"
Basically telling you that if in the fiction you've read no main character succeeded, you trying to gain their love would do nothing, you'd just set yourself up for failure
Reader... I'm sorry but you are on the verge of failing, at this rate, you won't get the special reward...
You look up at the screen in curiosity, their hatred meter was on 2%, but the past few days that the new vigilante Protagonist has been fighting with the bat family, it went up again to 15%, and whenever they spend time with you it goes down again, when they spend time with protagonist it goes up again, you honestly have no idea what's going on
Bruce's hatred meter is already in the negatives, if all of them go to the negatives you've failed
Dick hugs you "Let's go shopping" he smiles
____________________________
And you find yourself at the mall, you find some books you think you'll like and Jason pays for you, you find some clothes you think you'll like and Dick pays for you
They both drag you to a dress store, and to be honest you feel like you're forgetting something really important
You open your phone to find no messages, not from your friends or anyone
They settle you with a black dress you like, of course they'd pick something in their color, and you ride the taxi home
The Manor is eerie and quiet, Alfred isn't there to greet your return and frankly you're worried, he's always there to greet us, did something happen?
The Joker attacked? But you didn't see any bat patrolling? And why would Dick and Jason be with you?
You open the doors of the manor and-
"Happy birthday (Name)!" They yell, there you see Alfred, your friends, children from the orphanage you visit, the children you tutor, and some paparazzi, some rich looking people you don't know, and holy fuck- is that the justice league in civilian form!?!? oh and also your family is here
Right.
It's your 16th birthday...
And this... Is your first official Wayne Gala
You totally forgot.
You rarely celebrate your birthday... Because sometimes, the system tells you to celebrate it alone, sometimes it doesn't, you only remember your birthday when the system makes a mission surrounding it
Shit.
You can't get out of this one
Bruce smiles at you and he takes your hand the music starts
Another shit.
Is this a father-daughter dance?
It is.
Everyone is eager to see it, the paparazzi has cameras pointed at the both of you, your friends are smiling enjoying the party, and the kids are laughing
"(Name) Looks like a princess!" A kid says
You laugh uncomfortably "I don't know how to dance" you whisper to your father (that's a lie, you're amazing), he then places your feet to step on his "that's fine" he says
Then you he dances, his feet guide yours and it becomes this adorable moment where dad doesn't mind that his daughter doesn't know how to dance and is just happy that your in his arms
You are screaming on the inside.
How could you forget about something like this!?!?
You see his hatred meter drop even more, then you see the others, from 15% it goes to 10% then 5% then-
The dance finishes, the crowd claps and cheers, the dance showing you and your father's closeness...
Then a girl speaks "Excuse me?" She says, Everyone's attention is on her and she smiles, she runs to your father "I'm so happy to finally meet you!" She holds his hands pushing you away
Bruce pulls away from her "What are you doing!?" He glared
She looked flustered but smiled either way, she pulled out some documents and gave it to Bruce
"I thought it would be the right moment to tell you since everyone is here... I'm your long lost daughter Viviana!"
_____________________________
EHEHEHEHEHHEHE MANHWA READERS YALL PROLLY KNOW WHERE THIS IS GOING
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nathaslosthershit · 11 months ago
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Teen Dad (OP81)
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(Part 1 of the Blind Item Series) (Part 1 of the Teen Dad OP AU)
Summary: Rumors are flying about a young driver with kids
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Seeing the rumor, and various other tweets commenting on the matter, first thing this morning was like getting a bucket of ice water dumped on him. Oscar immediately sat up, frightening his fiancée who was asleep next to him a moment before.
“What? What's wrong? Are you okay?” she asked, sitting up.
“Fuck this is not good.” He mumbled as he looked through more tweets. He knew he had minutes before his PR team started messaging him on how best to proceed. 
“Osc, you are really scaring me. What is going on?” His fiancée asked again. After 5 years together and two kids, she knew him well enough to know that Oscar isn’t easily woken up. While he usually wakes up early to train or help the kids, on days like today where he has the chance to sleep in, he will usually take it. But the amount of notifications he started getting were enough to get him to check his phone and once he saw the severity of the situation he was awake and alarmed. 
“A blind item about a ‘younger f1 driver with two kids he had as a teen’ just went up. No confirmation on who but it seems they have gotten it down to only a few of us. They don’t know yet but I am sure they will know soon.” 
He was grateful they hadn’t clocked in on him but Oscar was sure with a bit more time to dig people would put two and two together. He wasn’t ashamed of the fact that he was a teen dad, not anymore at least. When he was even more so an up and coming driver, he kept it hush because he was nervous being 18 with two kids would lead teams to reconsider where his priorities were, his family or his career. That wouldn’t have been crazy of them to do though, as important as racing was to Oscar, he would always pick his family first. Luckily, though, he had a great enough support system so he didn't have to choose. 
Most people in Oscar’s life knew. Any teams apart from Prema, Mclaren, and Alpine were none the wiser but why would they need to know? Not all drivers knew either, some who he had become closer to were let in on the secret, especially Logan, who had been there the entirety of his kids' lives. Annoyingly, at least in Oscar’s opinion, he has been titled ‘the cool uncle’ from day one. 
“What do we do?” his fiancée asked, snapping him out of his spiraling.
“I imagine it is up to my team to figure that one out. I’ll message them now. Get the kids ready and I’ll be done in time to help with breakfast.” He said as he got up.
After a long, pretty impromptu, call, it was decided Oscar would make a statement about it before it was revealed to be him. He wasn’t too happy about not getting to really do it on his own terms but this is the way it worked out, and hey, Oscar would be lying if he said he wasn’t already planning which race he was going to bring his kids to first.
oscarpiastri
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oscarpiastri This is of course not how I wanted to do this. I had hoped to have more time before I had to let the peace of privacy go but these things happen when you are in the spotlight. So yes, I am a father of two great kids and I have been since I was 18. I am not ashamed by the fact I was a teen dad, and am certainly not hiding my kids out of anything but love. I hadn’t realized I could truly love anything or anyone more than racing but then these two came into my life and I realized I would give it all up for them. Luckily, with the support of their mother (who is my fiancée) and my family, I didn’t have to give it up. My four person family means more to me than anything and I count my lucky stars each night that I have been blessed with them. I ask that you please respect our privacy. This isn’t the end of you seeing the Piastri twins but I, being the over protective father I am, am not ready to throw two 3 year olds into the chaos of the motorsport world just yet.
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Part 2: A Much Needed Interview out now!
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mydearestbeloved · 1 month ago
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Chapter 23 [Draft]
Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader
CW:
Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”
[Masterlist🦋✨️]
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“What’s with this traffic jam? It’s really backed up.” Jinwoo asked, his voice breaking the lull as he drummed his fingers lightly on the steering wheel. As the car inched forward at an agonizingly slow pace, he muttered something about taking the subway, eyes scanning the congested road ahead, a faint crease of irritation forming on his brow.
You glanced up from your musings, your elbow propped on the car door, chin resting in your palm. Your eyes were fixed on the distance, far past the endless rows of brake lights ahead—almost indifferent, as if the raving engines and honking vehicles just outside were nothing more than background noise.
“Maybe a gate popped up in the middle of the road?”
Jinwoo turned his head to you, giving you an incredulous look. His sharp stare lingered until you caught it out of the corner of your eye, remaining unfazed. “What?”
Before Jinwoo could respond, his phone buzzed to life, the name on the screen flashed: Chairman Go Gun-hee.. He answered, listened intently to the voice on the other end, and replied as necessary. The situation was, in fact, just as you had guessed—a gate had indeed materialized, right in the middle of the highway too, hence the massive traffic disruption.
After the call ended, Jinwoo turned back to you with a similar expression as before. The hint of amused resignation was new though.
“What?” you repeated, your voice carrying that deliberately lackluster touch of feigning innocence.
This time, instead of being interrupted in a timely-good manner, his silence was broken by a soft chuckle as he leaned back in his seat, his posture relaxed, as did the uptilt of his lips, despite the urgency of the situation.
After a beat, that easy smile was directed towards you. “You gonna come with?”
You tilted your head slightly, mimicking his casual demeanor but with an air of mockery that was all your own. “Depends. Let’s see what the system has to say.”
“So, not a no?” Jinwoo’s tone took a turn as he leaned closer, leaving no other way for you but to meet his eyes, his grin just as daring.
Perhaps reflex played a role when you raised your hand and planted it against his face before he could get too close, gently pushing him back with just enough pressure to send a clear message: Don’t push your luck. Jinwoo showed little resistance, the twinkle of mirth in the backdrop of grey peeking between your fingers unmistakable.
You dismissed how you could distinctly feel his mouth move as he played along with your antics. How the soft brushes of lips felt on the border of your palm and wrist, teetering so close to where one could feel vital signs through the skin.
“Shut up,” you grinned back, and the following vibrations on your hand, mimicking the act of chuckling, told you more than enough.
It was good to know that he was now comfortable enough around you to be like this.
“I’ll do a quick detour for our emergency preparation,” you added, finally pulling your hand back and breaking eye contact. Your gaze shifted out the window as if searching for something unseen. “I have a feeling it’s going to rain.”
Jinwoo raised a brow, stealing a glance at the sky through the windshield. The sun shone unobstructed, the horizon was clear, with no sign of rain clouds in sight. Still, he’d learned by now that your ‘feelings’ were rarely wrong.
Cryptic words and double meanings, he just had to figure them out—figure you out.
The game both of you had been playing since the very start.
How thrilling.
Jinwoo hummed, opting for another question, though it was one he already had a pretty good guess on the answer. His smile never left. “How many backups have you planned, really?”
“A lot.” —a simplistic answer that was just so you, flashing him a sweet smile of your own.
With that, your form began to shimmer, your edges dissolving into myriads of lights, the chimes of your butterflies filling the air.
Through the mirror of his iris, the beautiful fragments swirled. Jinwoo closed his eyes briefly as the luminous insects flitted past his face, bringing forth passing warmth against the skin.
“You go on ahead,”
When he opened them again, only a single butterfly remained where you once sat, its iridescent wings fluttering softly. It went to perch on his instinctively half-outstretched hand, and Jinwoo brought it closer, feeling the faint, ticklish brush of its wings on his lips.
I’ll find my way to you.
The butterfly dissolved into nothingness, yet he knew it was keeping him company, always, despite its lack of visibility.
He was not alone, not anymore.
Jinwoo leaned back in his seat, raking a hand through his hair as the corner of his mouth curved into a grin, lingering all the way as he made his way to the gate’s location.
If he had truly looked at himself in the rearview mirror at this moment, would the faint color of his cheeks and the creeping warmth had only been the effect of the rosy-hued sky and the golden glow of the setting sun?
Jinwoo muttered under his breath, though there was no mistaking the fondness in his every little action then.
“What a difficult woman.”
---
Jinwoo stood amidst the wild greens of the foliage; the air as ominous as ever if not more. The oppressive heat and humidity were immediately followed by the torrential downpour. The thick jungle surrounding him, water cascading down the leaves and pooling into muddy streams, and the dense magical energy crackling in the air all pointed to one thing.
“You know…” Jinwoo said to no one, his tone as flat as it was dry, despite him literally soaked from head to toe. “However I see it, this feels like a red gate.”
“I told you so,” your voice rang out light, and Jinwoo looked up to see you hovering in the air, donning your usual raid ensemble, your form bathed in faint iridescent white glow. The rain parted around you and the butterflies flitted, refracting light in a way that made Jinwoo feel like he was witnessing a scene from one of those vibrant stained-glass windows.
Divine—that word again.
Soft chimes mixing harmoniously with the rhythm of harsh pitter-patter. Despite his enhanced physique, the falling rain still dug uncomfortably into his skin, under the layer of wet fabric. But even so, he couldn’t look away.
As for you, for a moment, you entertained the idea of looking after a wet cat.
With a subtle motion of your hand, Jinwoo suddenly found himself enveloped in the same translucent glow and phantom warmth. The raindrops now bounced and slid off him harmlessly, though the protective barrier couldn’t undo the soaked clothes below.
“You’re a little late, don’t you think?” Jinwoo quipped, though there was no bite to his words.
Yeah—a sopping wet, fussy black cat.
“You seem fine enough,” you quipped back, starting to make your descent. “I’ll help you dry off once we’re out—shit!”
The next second, the world seemed to blur as the storm surged louder in your eardrums—a brief flicker caught Jinwoo’s attention before his instincts kicked in.
Time seemed to slow after—closer than either of you expected, stealing the air from your lungs, senses overwhelmed by proximity’s warmth. Dimly, you felt familiar, sturdy arms supporting you, and the scent of damp earth mixed with something distinctly him.
Déjà vu—and the disconcert of living through a cliché.
Chaotic fluttering, the butterflies’ notes twisted into a cacophony of delight, increasing in volume alongside heavy rain and thunder. Yet, all seem to blend into the background of mingling breaths, inches apart.
None spoke, eyes locked with another in a moment that felt stretched too long and too short all at once. Light danced in between, shadows fleeting across each other’s features.
Somewhere, amidst the cold shower and warm softness in his hold, Jinwoo felt a strange awareness settle within each heartbeat.
And then, the moment broke. The chimes quieted, and everything faded into the storm’s veil once more.
---
[A hunter is born to hunt.]
“So,” Jinwoo started, attention flicking between you and the battle up ahead. “you can teleport from outside now?” Intrigue flashed in his eyes, though his tone retained its usual calmness.
“…”
“(Name)?”
“…Yeah,” you finally replied. Distracted was an understatement of the nearly two decades you’d been thrown into this world. “The recent ascension automatically leveled up some skills. My teleportation works the same as before, but now it’s more… precise.”
“Precise?” Jinwoo’s brow arched in question.
“Mm-hmm. Visualizing the destination is no longer enough; I need to know the place like the back of my hand.” Your eyes followed a purple butterfly fluttering past his shoulders. “Being manually taxing is a recurring drawback to my powers, so I’m not too surprised. The good thing that came out of this is that there are less restrictions. Dungeons are basically another world altogether, but now I can go in and out even after the gates closed, granted I still have memory of the place and that nothing unusual happened. Still researching on that.”
“Bless my children, since I still need an ‘anchor’ for the first travel.” The butterfly joined the fray. “Under normal circumstances, they can travel on their own. But for traversing between realms? In case they’re not strong enough to withstand the force, they need to attach to someone who can cross to the other side. Once inside, that child can send me the specific ‘data’ via telepathy—the area’s distinct wavelength, for example.”
You made a light sweeping motion with your hand. “And voilà.”
A hunter’s foe isn’t limited to monsters.
Jinwoo hummed thoughtfully, his gaze sweeping across the battlefield. He watched his soldiers press forward; their footwork precise even on the rain-slick, muddy ground. The flitting butterflies wove among them as usual, shimmering beacons boosting any soldier in close range and playing with their food the enemies. What was unusual was the flashes of forms far too humanlike to be his shadows.
Jinwoo narrowed his eyes, studying the contrasting figures. Their movements were seamless, as if rehearsed, covering each other’s blind spots. As chaotic as these fights could get, there was an unmistakable rhythm to them. A Danse Macabre brought to life.
“They can fight too?” Jinwoo asked, his voice tinged with slight awe.
Following his line of sight, you smiled faintly. “Yes. At first, it was the adults’ initiative. I’m fine with them as they are, but my darlings wanted to make the most of it now that they can maintain corporeal forms without the hassle of constantly using hallucinations.” You nodded toward the entities in question. “Their skills heavily depend on what I’m capable of myself, since they weren’t initially designed for direct combat, but…” You tilted your head toward the nearest skirmish. “What can I say? Adaptation is one of our mottos.”
[A hunter must take care not to become the hunted.]
Jinwoo followed your gesture and saw Igris, his long sword cleaving through enemies with practiced ease. Covering his back stood a familiar elegant figure, crimson strands in a braid and wielding dual rapiers. She was as pristinely suited as the first time she introduced herself. The tailcoat, patterned like her wings, followed her movements fluidly, making her seem like she was dancing.
Hup!
Light on her feet, she launched herself in the air and struck. The thrust precise and deep despite how delicately thin the blade looked, evident by the fountains of blood erupting from her staggering victims before Igris followed up with swift decapitations. With how calm she looked at times, her eyes were another level of intense, like an undying flame.
She landed with a bow and—did the raining blood just turn into showering petals?!
“You’ve already met Red,” you said casually, though Jinwoo detected a hint of pride. “My right hand.”
Gaze lingering on the pair, Jinwoo was unsure what was more baffling: the eerie theatrics or how seamlessly Red fought alongside Igris without a single word exchanged.
His attention shifted to another figure, starkly different in demeanor and a paler complexion.
On top of her head were triangular-shaped ears blending into straight snowy-white locks. The color contrasted sharply against the battlefield’s murky tones, as did her pale blue eyes. Seemingly a staple to your children who gained a more tangible form, the black and white attire she wore was adorned with fluffs from neck to boots.
The situation can always reverse,
“That’s Blanche.” You chuckled softly seeing the girl reflexively nuzzle into her thick scarf, only for droopy eyes to narrow, clearly displeased with the wetness clinging to her usual comfort. Even her long fluffy tail wasn’t spared, slumping dejectedly in response.
Peeking out from the tufts of her of sleeves were clawed hands of clear ice, at least twice a normal sized hand. That same hand tore straight through an adversary’s chest. As the beast dangled from her grip, she flicked them off with ease to swipe at another incoming attackers.
What was interesting to Jinwoo was how the minion sent flying looked stiff. Only when Tank caught them with his mouth did Jinwoo have his answer. The chilling crunch when the shadow munched on them, how pieces of the body cracked like glass and fell off with no sign of the usual dripping warm liquid, suggested that they were frozen solid. It was a frigid carnage.
“She’s dozing off.” Jinwoo noted dryly as Blanche retracted her claws and leaned onto the massive ice bear, sinking into his wispy black fur.
“Leave my baby alone. It’s nearing her hibernation hour anyway.” You cooed in the pair’s direction, seeing that Tank decided to not disturb Blanche’s nap and just sat there, munching away at the frozen enemies she left behind.
“And when exactly is that?”
“Almost all the time.”
Jinwoo didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or sigh at you.
“You’re spoiling her.”
“Blanche always got her job done before going to sleep, so I see no problem.” You trailed off.
[And it’s the mark of the first-rate hunter to avoid becoming complacent.]
Jinwoo chose not to comment further. He followed your wandering eyes toward a blonde figure next. Hair tied in ponytail, she wielded a massive shield with an ease that belied its size, using it to batter enemies in a manner that seemed more recreational than necessary.
“There are two of them now.” Jinwoo deadpanned.
True to his words, it was quite a sight.
Iron was, unsurprisingly, doing what Iron did best: slamming down the blunt end of his battle axe on what appeared to be an enemy, a pretty much dead one. The blonde woman, with eyes resembling the sun, mimicked his actions with her shield and an almost childlike glee. The two were taking turns in smashing the unfortunate foe until it was simply unrecognizable.
“That’s Sol,” you said, sweatdropping. “She’s, well, energetic.”
Jinwoo sighed, and honestly, you couldn’t blame him.
“I can see that.”
“…Sol’s a good child.” You continued with a wry smile. “Just a curious spirit most of the time.”
“Right. And she follows Iron around because…?”
“She finds him amusing.”
“That sounds even worse somehow.”
You could only offer a helpless shrug.
The next child Jinwoo noticed was perched comfortably on Tusk’s shoulder, nonchalantly swinging her legs and humming a tune. Turquoise eyes glowed against dark bronze canvas, various runes of the same bluish-green circling her, and a tome floated by her side. Her hair was a striking red, blue, and the occasional hints of white and purple, shifting hues with every movement like a living aurora. Her ears were long and the tips pointed, Jinwoo noted.
Whether you hunt tens, or even hundreds, of monsters,
“That’s Neonie.” you introduced. “Abilitiy-wise, think of her as a living magical artifact.”
Each motion of the her fingers brought forth circles of magic, materializing across the battlefield. Glittering mist flowed out, a blanket of cloud around the High Orc Shaman and magic unit below, amplifying spells’ firepower, restoring mana, and decreasing casting cooldowns in a near constant cycle. Some smaller magic circles stationed strategically around the fog-affected areas automatically shot projectiles to melee foes closing in on the mages.
Jinwoo was squinting at this point. Mist aside, the output of spells back-to-back were blinding enough.
“Can we adjust the brightness?”
“Sure! When you managed to control your first instinct to not glare at my sorceress every time you see her, we’ll talk.”
“Huh?”
“Oh please, I saw how your face scrunched up seconds ago. I already made Baruka’s remains a stat boost for your dagger, give the guy a break.”
You rolled your eyes, though the twitch on your lips betrayed you when he made a face again.
A strong gust of wind swept past, ruffling your hairs and prompting you and Jinwoo to glance upward. Kaisel soared overhead, his massive wings stretching over the rain-drenched jungle below, cutting through the winds. Trailing close behind was what seemed like a flurry of butterflies in a weird formation, a blur of royal blue.
You whistled and the cluster halted in its flight, only then did Jinwoo could get a proper look at the silhouette. The most attention-grabbing feature was the pair of wings, flapping in brief intermissions to keep the bearer afloat. They weren’t the delicate blue and black structures patterned on her uniform; instead, there were layers of translucent feathers, matching the end of her trench coat. She had rich blue eyes; dark brown strands framed her face in a bun.
[You must hunt ceaselessly.]
“Jinwoo, meet Gale.” The aforementioned bowed to Jinwoo. “The best flyer of my butterflies.”
“And also,” Jinwoo barely had time to process this before his sharp ears caught a distinct metallic clack from above. His gaze snapped back to Gale—was that a minigun?!
“Our aerial support—”
“Everyone duck!”
The assault began, the shots ripped through the ranks of enemies below. Jinwoo’s caught another detail then: like the briefest projection, the feathers spread wide dispersed light in a way that momentarily resembled the intricate patterns of a butterfly. They flared, and from the 'eyes', beams of light shot downward, incinerating adversaries that got caught in its line, leaving charred remnants in her wake.
As the dust began to settle, Jinwoo quickly noted that his soldiers and your children remained unharmed, courtesy of Tusk’s and Neonie’s protective barrier that had shielded the allied forces nearest to the blasts. Iron and Sol too, raised their shield to protect the others nearest to them.
“…and sniper—”
BOOM!
Yeah, no.
The resulting shockwave left Jinwoo’s hair slightly disheveled, and he noted with some amusement that yours wasn’t spared either.
That was a fucking missile.
Again, none of his shadows nor your butterflies had been harmed. Gale’s actions might seem reckless, but, as far-fetched as it sounded, the attacks were isolated in a way, suggesting some level of careful handling and not just reckless abandon.
“I…” You looked dumbfounded if anything, mouth parting a little bit, and Jinwoo found it cute. At least that reaction was enough of a confirmation for him: you didn’t, in fact, planned that, not to this degree at the very least. Jinwoo reckoned Gale took some liberties, and it was just good bad timing on your part. “…I’ll speak to Gale on toning it down.”
“Good call.” Jinwoo chuckled.
You cleared your throat, a strange look of avoidance passed through your expression. “Well, that’s all of them that are present anyway”.
Even when you said that, Jinwoo’s gaze drifted past you, landing on the peculiar silver-haired figure standing still under the rain. She seemed wholly engrossed in her own world, her face tilted upward to let the water trail over her features. Her expression painstakingly crafted to exude pensiveness, it was as if she were playing out a dramatic scene in some high-budget movie—you know, where a character’s thoughts were spoken aloud by outside voice? Minus the pile of corpses beneath her heels of course.
“What is she doing?” Jinwoo finally asked, his tone edged with skepticism, finding it very hard not to be openly judgmental this time. Your lips twitched, unsure whether to laugh away the embarrassment like a maniac or dig yourself a hole and simply die with it.
[As that unknown presence does too.]
The King has no plan to stop his hunt—"Ouch!”
The woman in question abruptly yelped in pain and doubled over. Her hands flying to the top of her head where an angry red bump had formed. Her face scrunched up into a teary expression as yellowish-orange orbs turned to the crimson-haired figure now looming over her.
“What in Mother’s name was that for, Sist-AH! Ow…” Trick’s indignant protest was cut short as another sharp smack landed squarely on her head, resulting comically in a bump on the previous bump. Red stared down at her younger sibling, arms crossed, twin rapiers momentarily sheathed by her hips.
“Stop monologuing.” Despite how flatly the delivery was, each word was emphasized with a progressively terrifying glare that could have frozen a lesser soul.
Poor Trick got the heebie-jeebies. The adult silver butterfly pouted and whined, still clutching her head as she pointed to the air where intricate golden-white screen glitched to life. “They started it!”
[ :D ]
The red butterfly could care less.
“Get. To. Work,” With one last warning look, Red turned her back without waiting for a response. She strode back toward Igris, who had paused mid-swing to glance in her direction. The shadow knight tilted his head slightly, a silent inquiry.
Red’s expression softened in an instant, throwing her rapier to stab the battered magical beast, formerly twitching hand about to grab the shadow knight’s leg while he was distracted, now laid as limp as it was dead. “I’m alright, Sir Igris. Thank you. Let’s continue,” Her tone gentle and respectful. Igris gave a small, almost imperceptible nod before they resumed their rhythm.
Meanwhile, you pressed your fingers to your temple, trying to stave off the impending migraine while watching Trick sulking nearby at the slightest possible prospect of the older butterfly ignoring her. She shot a glare toward the hovering interface.
“(ಥ﹏ಥ) …Traitor.”
[ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ]
“Just ignore her.” You sighed, already too tired to deal with this today.
As if to prove your point, Beru chose that exact moment to land near with a thud that sent a wave of muddy water splashing in all directions, including Trick’s, who let out a hiss like a bristling feline. The former ant king let out some clicking noises.
“What are you doing?”
“Nun-ya.”
“What?”
���Nun-ya business.”
“Yeah,” Jinwoo followed your lead and turned away at the sparks practically flying between the two summons. “Let’s. Ignore them.”
Unfortunately for the several totem-masked monsters who thought they could take advantage of the apparent distraction, lunging toward the insect pair, they unknowingly only hastened their doom. With a snap of Trick’s fingers, the attackers froze mid-charge, consumed by sheer terror as they clutched at invisible wounds. It was borderline terrifying how convinced they were that they had already been slashed to pieces, only for Beru to tear through them for real a fraction of a second later.
“Kekeke. First to 30 wins?” Beru’s multifaceted eyes had a competitive glint in them aside from the bloodlust.
Trick shot back with an eerily wide grin, showcasing inhumanely sharp canines hidden below her usual mischievous smile.
“Now we’re talking!”
Gunshot pierced through a few masked foes in groups. The twin guns disappeared from slender hands just as fast as they appeared at the start of a different moveset from the humming butterfly.
An up wave of her hands was followed by several foes cut vertically from the bottom—
“One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.”
Up, down, cross, side, up…!
—and the rest was as follows.
Only after the motions slowed down did the rain and blood shine light to the glinting threads wrapped around Trick’s fingers into various directions, including the beasts that got shot at the start, limp bodies serving as effective anchors.
Trick turned around, hands now on her hips and sticking out her tongue, only to yelp when she saw a body thrown in her direction. Reflexively cutting it in half with her threads revealed the sight of Beru’s smug look not far off, already done with his fair share of enemies.
“Watch it, you—”
 “kEKEKEKEKE!”
“That girl sure knows how to hold a grudge.”
“The pot calling the kettle black. Beru also indulged her too much.”
You and Jinwoo locked eyes in a silent battle of wills for a few seconds before bursting into laughter.
As the laughter died down and the two forces tore into the enemy ranks, that strange feeling from the very first start of this battle settled in you again—the sense of being out of place. Should you feel weirded out that you could only bring yourself to comment on it now?
“Jinwoo.”
“Hmm?”
“Put me down,” you said bluntly, your tone carefully devoid of emotion as you tried to school your expression despite the steady warmth creeping up your neck. And your back. And the back of your thighs—whatever parts of your body that were touching Jinwoo’s right now!
“…”
“…Please?”
“No.”
This man! He purposely waited for you to do that only to reject you, didn’t he?
Jinwoo looked at you with a maddeningly fake smile of innocence, his tone leaving no room for debate. His arms around you didn’t loosen; if anything, they tightened when you started wriggling around, successfully securing you in place.
Sure, it was not the first time he had done this. At the end of your second trip to the demon castle, Jinwoo only let your feet touch the ground after the two of you arrived at the hospital, where you could just sit and rest safely as he tended to his mother. You admit that you were exhausted, very well out of your mind, and thus you were thankful to him—back then.
This is different!
“I can walk on my own—”
“Nope.”
…What a mean man.
From the moment your children had somehow hijacked your landing to now, Jinwoo had been carrying you in classic bridal style, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Oh, you could feel his muscles—and you almost leaned closer in an attempt to hide your growing fluster.
You don’t even know where to put your hands. Sure, you wrapped your arms around him, once, to steady yourself right after you fell into his arms—God, that sounds so cheesy. Right now, though, you were awkwardly fiddling with your fingers on your lap. This dilemma came to a much quicker end than the ongoing mental gymnastics in your mind when Jinwoo started walking, where you instinctively held onto his shoulder, simultaneously giving up on the matter of being carried like some damsel in distress until who knew when.
Even as the path ahead cleared—his shadow soldiers bowing deeply on either side and your butterflies fluttering like honor guards—Jinwoo showed no intention of putting you down. And you have to admit, there was undeniable comfort in the way he held you, grounding and unwavering just like his presence.
You almost forgot that you were inside a dungeon.
When did you start being this comfortable around Jinwoo?
Was it before meeting Norma Selner, the very first-time trust between you felt balanced in scale? Was it while on your first trip to the demon castle, when you brought yourself to hold his hand to calm him in what otherwise would be a precarious situation? Or was it further back?
How romantic!
Isn’t this basically ‘walking down the aisle’?
Mother—
You winced as the telepathic chatter from your children filled your mind, their voices buzzing with excitement and a variety of commentaries.
Love?
To a man who deserved everything and more? When you couldn’t even be sure of your place in this world, how could you do that to him? To the man who [̴]̷[̵]̶[̵]̶[̴]̴[̷]̵ you?
…?
Jinwoo [̸̦̄́̈́]̶̲̭͐̂̕[̸̭̄͘]̴̼͖̌͒̽[̵̲̝͂]̷̘͂͊͒[̵̙̦̬̒̈́̽]̸̥̈́͆[̶̙͊]̸̨͎͎̏ you.
???
[̴̨͚̥̤͖̣͍̱̥̥̃̽̂͂́̕]̷̞͋̀̍̆[̸̥̀̊̀]̴͍̑̇[̸̺̬̲͉̯̱̭̥̖͔͊̉̓]̸̧̡̛̳̰̬͉̰̗̮͙̄[̴̺̳̮͇͕̩̌̅͜]̴̢̥̭̮̩͉̜̼̽́͠[̶͚̓͂̃̿̇̃̀͝͝]̶̡̨̰̙͔͚̀͜ͅ—!
W-What is…my memories—
“-me)…(Name)!”
You jolted. For a few moments, the only thing you could see was grey.
“I knew it, you’re—”
“I’m fine, Jinwoo. And stop making that face.”
“What—”
“It doesn’t suit you.”
“Oi—”
Before he could let out another syllable, you circled your arms around him and buried your face on his shoulder. You were well-aware of how his muscles tensed then, how his breath hitched when yours warmed his neck, and how he shivered when you played with his hair at the base with your fingers. It was a sly move on your part, to distract him like this.
How far can I go? What a dangerous thought.
It was impossible not to notice the signs, how confusing they all were.
It might have been a stretch to assume, might even be delusional, but unless it was normal behavior of this time and age to kiss the back of another’s hand—other than family’s—you doubted you read the situation too far in that case. The gesture might be normal occurrences for affectionate people, and you wouldn’t claim to know how Jinwoo would be if he had someone who truly accompanied him on his journey, step by step. What you did know was that Jinwoo showed that he cared, less with words, more through actions.
So, what did his actions so far told you?
For a lone wolf such as he, Jinwoo had been quite... tactile. You doubted he would be to just anyone.
Comfort, maybe?
Which led to the next question: you no longer fit in the category of ‘just anyone’ to him, weren’t you? After all, it was one of the many possibilities you had entertained, especially when he didn’t leave you much of a choice but to stay close.
Trust?
“…” You pursed your lips.
Or something else?
Y̸̦̖͓͛o̵͕̦͎͆̃ụ̶͎̗̒̈́ ̴̻̩̳̏ d̶̩̉i̸͓̭͒̕d̴͙͑̍ň̶̝͍͠'̶̧̙̍t̴̹̓ ̸͓͍̎̎ŕ̴̲̩͕̅͋e̴͔̾m̷̦̞͗e̴̢̥̗͑̔m̵͖̳̄b̴͈͎͋̌e̵̡͔̜̍̅̈́r̶̨̳̜̂̉͑ ̶̘̒͘i̶̡̖͘̚f̴̺̳̎̀ ̶͍͍͔̐̏́ý̵͍̳͐͝ò̸̦͇͑̀u̷̧͌ e̶̜͓͗̕v̵̬͈̱̀̃̌ḛ̸̛͋͘r̴̺̀̋ ̷̛͙͕̻̑͆h̶͇̻͛̕å̸͙͖̭͒d̵͕̮̃ ̴̰̒̍a̷̻̘͌̂ ̸̹̔͑͜ͅl̴͙̈́ô̶̹̣̼v̴̘̪̄̂e̵̡̓͘͝ṟ̴̽́̏ ̴̺̌̑̐b̵̫͕̦̄̇e̴͔̅̀͐f̶̰̍o̷̩̐͝r̷̘̥̒̔e̶͚̦͒.̸̪̝̉͊͝
You were a fan of Jinwoo, yes, just one of the many, and a hopeless romantic to boot, considering the amount of romance genres you consumed in your free time up till now. It was a good thing if he actually found some comfort in you, God knew this man deserved more, so you didn’t really mind the hand-holding, hugging, and overall proximity. If you were being honest, every time he sought you out, it never failed to make you feel giddy—too giddy.
It was hard to turn a blind eye to the changes.
How could you describe this? Feverish, fuzzy, and your stomach did the thing? It felt too textbook copy-paste—everything was—which was fitting, considering your situation. But, simply ‘feeling’ it was not enough. What an excuse that was, when there was not yet definitive evidence to support your claims. Would you stoop that low?
In any case, you were threading onto treacherous grounds.
But—
You tightened your hold on Jinwoo, hiding yourself from the world.
System, can I afford to indulge myself?
[ … ]
“Enjoying yourself?” Jinwoo asked, and while you couldn’t see it, you just knew that he had to be smirking.
Look who’s talking. That question could apply to him too.
You mumbled something incoherent into his shoulder, and Jinwoo tilted his head, his smile widening. “What was that?”
You didn’t feel like gracing him with the answer he wanted this time. Instead, you nuzzled further into him, your head bumping against his chin from below, and your lips inches away from his Adam’s apple.
Just as you predicted again, Jinwoo shut his mouth pretty quick.
Revenge sure tasted sweet, but you decided that you would spare him some mercy. After all, you were still thankful for the distraction he provided, knowingly or not.
A small smile bloomed against his shoulder.
For all your children’s teasing, a small part of you couldn’t help but agree: this moment, despite every absurdity that surrounded it, was undeniably romantic.
Just this once.
Behind the curtain of the rainy dungeon, you just hoped this wouldn’t become a habit.
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End Note:
Unfinished Draft of [30/11/2024] -
Dear [Trial Player]'s Readers,
Happy New Year! 🎉
First, I’d like to apologize for not posting this chapter on New Year's Eve as planned. Time was tighter than I expected, and honestly, this chapter could have been better. My apologies for that. If you have any questions, feedbacks, & comments, feel free to send them here or send in an ask—I may be slow, but I’ll do my best to respond as soon as I can! ❤️
With this chapter, we’ve officially reached the end of Season 1 of the Manhwa. Huzzah! 🎊
This chapter is a whirlwind, I admit. There’s a lot happening, such as: new revelations, developments, and information; foreshadowing and scattered implications; and official introductions to several new characters—the mysterious [???], also known as the [Children of 'Trial Player']! I have used these twenty-ish chapters so far to 'set up the stage', all will be revealed in the events of Season 2 of the Manhwa, so stay tuned! 🦋✨️
I’ll be returning to college for exams starting on January 6th, which will keep me busy for about three weeks. As such, there won’t be any major updates to this story until late January or early February. In the meantime, I’ll try to answer the asks you all have already sent to my inbox. Thank you so much for your patience and for showing interest in this work—I truly appreciate it. I apologize for the late responds in advance. 🙏
Thank you for all your support so far, everyone! 💖
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ot8xbangchansgirlsblog · 4 months ago
Note
can you write an OT8 x reader where the reader gets into an a bar fight with a few guys and she calls them?
(you dont have to make it very violent)
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𝔾𝕚𝕣𝕝𝕤 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕗𝕦𝕟!
Warning: Angst/comfort, cursing, hate.
Summary: Request!
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Y/n knew that since she was out tonight most of her lovers would be awake waiting for her, so getting messages from the group weren't very shocking.
Minho: Text me or Chan when you're ready to go come home bbg.
Hyunjin: All the maknaes miss you but we put them to sleep. hahaha
Chan: Stay safe. Call if any one bothers you. I mean it.
Those were the last two messages from her boyfriends—sent that evening—that she read before quickly tapping out a reply and switching off her phone. The glow of the screen faded, and her attention shifted to one of her friends, Aeri, who was animatedly ordering drinks from the waiter, her laughter ringing out above the chatter of the bar.
She felt a twinge of guilt for shutting her boyfriends out, knowing the hangover was sure to hit her hard the next day, but she reminded herself that she needed this night out. Sure, she'd much rather be home, cozied up with them, sharing quiet moments and stolen kisses. Yet, a deeper part of her understood how long it had been since she'd spent quality time with her girls—Aeri, Charlotte, and Desi—who had been reaching out to her with messages filled with emojis and longing.
The trio had been her support system, her partners in crime, and it felt like ages since they'd laughed until their sides hurt or shared secrets over cocktails. She could see the excitement in Aeri's eyes, and the thought of those familiar faces filled her with warmth. They had missed her, and she had missed them too. Tonight was about reconnecting, about letting go of the weight of everyday life, even if it meant facing a brutal hangover the next morning.
It took them about eight rounds of shots, four cocktails, and two mocktails for Y/n to finally grasp just how intoxicated they all were. Desi hiccuped, her cheeks flushed, and gave Y/n a sly smile. “Y/nnie!” she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement. “Should we get another round?” Her giggle was infectious, prompting the rest of the girls to join in, laughter echoing around their corner of the bar.
Y/n couldn’t help but smile, but the reality of the situation hit her hard. “I think we need to get home now,” she replied, her tone slightly serious. “Leeknow is going to kill me, and Sun-hoo is definitely going to kill you when you get home.” She quickly waved over the waiter, hoping to end the night on a responsible note.
“NOOO! I’m going to miss you!” Charlotte pouted, her lower lip jutting out as she reached for Y/n’s hand. “Let’s take one more round! I know you’re going to be hibernating once you get home!”
Y/n felt her resolve weakening, the warmth of camaraderie pulling her back in. “Okay, one more round, but that’s it!” she relented, a laugh escaping her lips. In all honesty, she was already pretty far gone, and she knew there was no way she could drive home. So why not enjoy this moment a little longer?
Once she settled the bill—thanks to Changbin practically shoving his card into her hand—Y/n pulled out her phone to dial Chan’s number, knowing he was likely still awake. It only took one ring before his familiar voice came through, raspy from sleep. “Hello? Baby? You there?”
“H-hey Channie,” she slurred, struggling to get off the table while clutching her wallet tightly. Her friends were already heading toward the exit, and she could hear their giggles mingling with the bustling noise of the bar.
“Hey, babygirl? You okay? Need me to pick you up?” Chan asked, already sensing trouble. He was slipping out of bed, careful not to wake Han, who had been snuggled against his side.
“P-pleaseee,” she managed to reply, guilt washing over her. “I’m sorry for—”
“Aeri!” she heard Aeri squeal, drawing her attention just in time to see her friend stumbling and colliding with four guys standing on the pavement outside the bar.
“Aish! Omg!” Y/n sighed, watching as Charlotte and Desi rushed to help Aeri, who was apologizing profusely to the very annoyed group of guys.
“What happened?” Chan asked through the phone, grabbing his keys and heading toward Leeknow’s room to let him know he was heading out.
“One second, babe. Aeri just knocked over some guy’s drink, and he looks really mad,” Y/n explained, stepping closer to the chaotic scene unfolding in front of her.
“Don’t get too involved if they’re super drunk,” Chan warned, his stomach tightening with unease. He could already picture the scene and the potential for trouble, and his protective instincts kicked in. “Just keep an eye on her, okay?”
Y/n nodded, even though Chan couldn’t see her, focusing on smoothing things over with the group outside. She felt the weight of the night settling in, knowing she needed to keep her friends safe while also managing to navigate the rising tension.
“Watch where you’re going slut,” one of the guys grumbled, annoyance etched on his face.
“Excuse me?” Desi jumped in, her confidence shining through. “If you want a new drink, we can totally pay for it. No need to be rude!”
“All you girls do is come out to the bars, get super drunk, and ruin people’s nights,” he shot back, taking a step closer, making Desi feel a bit uneasy.
“We’re really sorry, sir! It won’t happen again,” Y/n said quickly, trying to keep the peace. She reached into her wallet and pulled out some cash. “Here, you can take this for your drink and dry cleaning, ”
“I don’t need your money, okay?” he snapped, swatting the cash from her hand. Y/n stood there, momentarily stunned. Did he just hit her?
“Y/n? Baby? You there?” Chan’s voice crackled through the phone, but she was too shocked to reply.
“Hey, what’s your problem?!” Charlotte piped up, stepping in front of Y/n as she picked up the money from the ground. “Why would you hit a girl?!”
“Y/n?!” Chan’s voice turned urgent as he overheard the commotion. He felt a knot in his stomach. Did Charlotte just say someone hit her? Without hesitation, he shook Changbin awake, urgency in his voice.
“Someone hit Y/n,” he said, his heart racing as he grabbed his jacket. He couldn’t believe this was happening and felt a strong urge to rush to her side.
“Wha—what?! Chan, hold up!” Changbin exclaimed, fully waking up as he scrambled to grab his shoes. Leeknow and Hyunjin soon joined them, both equally confused and moving quickly.
“Why do you both look so panicked? And why are we grabbing our shoes like something just happened?” Leeknow asked, concern growing in his eyes. He knew they would fill him in eventually, but the urgency of the moment pushed him to act.
“Try calling Desi, please!” Chan urged as he attempted to call Y/n again, but she wasn’t picking up.
“I’ll try Aeri,” Changbin said, already dialing.
“I’ll try Charlotte,” Hyunjin added, his brow furrowed in worry.
“Someone hit her,” Chan said, anger bubbling inside him as he gripped the steering wheel tightly.
“What the hell? Who?” Hyunjin growled, his protective instincts kicking in.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to bash their heads in,” Chan glared at the road, his heart pounding in his chest. Changbin’s frustration mounted as none of the girls answered, while Leeknow stayed focused, knowing Chan was in fight mode.
As they pulled up outside the bar, they spotted the girls standing outside, visibly upset. Charlotte was yelling at a group of guys, her anger palpable.
“Is that them?” Leeknow said, determination setting in.
Without waiting for an answer, Changbin and Leeknow jumped out of the car and charged toward the men.
“I told you, her boyfriends are going to kill you!” Desi smirked as Changbin grabbed one of the guys by the collar. When one of the guy’s friends tried to intervene, Leeknow swiftly blocked the punch and jumped in, igniting a full-on brawl.
The girls watched in shock as Y/n desperately tried to intervene. “Please! Chan, let’s just go home,” she begged, pulling at Hyunjin’s arm.
She felt guilty but couldn’t shake the belief that those men deserved the beating they were getting. Changbin was fierce, and Y/n feared he might send someone to the hospital if it weren’t for the security guards who finally broke up the fight.
“Where did he hit you?” Leeknow growled as he reached Y/n, noting the bruise forming on her wrist and feeling a metallic taste in his mouth from the adrenaline.
She pointed to her wrist, and he let out a frustrated huff before examining it carefully. Chan was making sure the other girls were okay while Hyunjin worked to calm Changbin down.
“This is why we don’t let you out without us,” Chan said, pulling Y/n into a tight hug, relief flooding through him.
“Are you both okay?” he asked, glancing between her and Leeknow before giving Leeknow a quick kiss on the forehead.
“Yeah, are you?” Leeknow replied, steadying Y/n as she swayed slightly; she was still drunk, after all.
“I’m fine, just a little shaken,” Y/n admitted.
“You okay, Hyunjin? Changbin?” Y/n asked softly, her eyes searching their faces for any sign of distress.
“I’m just so happy you’re okay, love,” Hyunjin replied, leaning in to give her a gentle kiss that nearly brought him to tears. “Never scare me like that again. What if we weren’t here, huh?”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her sincerity evident. “I really am. It won’t happen again—”
“If it does, I’ll bash them again,” Changbin growled, and everyone chuckled, knowing he was dead serious.
"I don't think it's safe for your friends to go home alone drunk. We'll let them stay at the pool house, yeah?" Chan asks knowing how severely drunk they were.
"Sure my love," he smiled at the response before holding Y/n's purse.
“Take her to the car; I’ll get the rest of the girls,” Chan instructed, heading toward Y/n’s friends. Y/n watched in awe at how much her boyfriends cared for her, and their concern only deepened once they got home.
Changbin carefully carried her to the kitchen, encouraging her to drink some water to help her sober up. Chan led her friends to the pool house outside, where they would be staying over, while Leeknow grabbed the first aid kit and Hyunjin warmed up some food for everyone.
“Never scare me like that,” Changbin grumbled, making her drink more water.
“Mmmm, I love you, Binnie,” she slurred, wrapping her arms around him, feeling safe and cozy.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” she said again, yawning and slowly resting her head on his shoulder.
“I know you’re tired, babygirl, but I have to ice that bruise. It looks nasty,” Leeknow said gently as he examined her wrist.
She instinctively pulled it away, whimpering at the pain, her reaction adorably cute.
“Don’t make me fight you on this,” Leeknow said, giving her a playful glare. She finally relented, “Fine…” she mumbled, knowing he had her best interests at heart.
“Okay, everyone is asleep, and I’m filing a report in the morning,” Chan announced as he walked back into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Hyunjin’s waist and planting soft kisses on his cheek.
“What a night, right guys?” Changbin chuckled, spooning some food into Y/n’s mouth, hoping no one would ever try something like that again.
“Huh?” Y/n blinked, still a little dazed but comforted by the warmth of her boyfriends around her.
Funny thing is, she never remembered a thing when she next woke-up.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Don't forget to reblog and follow! <3
A/N: Thank you anon!
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shadowsndaisies · 1 month ago
Text
codename: nightingale- auld acquaintances
reference: young justice season 1 episode 26
wc: 10.3k
synopsis: well shit gets real, conner yeets ng and robin, all while, ng reminds us why she’s the best, and the otp(s) get their shit (collectively and respectively) together
main masterlist
codename: nightingale series masterlist
a/n: I CANNOT BELIEVE I DID IT. you guys and your support have carried me though this process and the many YEARS it took me to get to this point. I have loved writing this since the beginning and I still do. Thank you for loving this story and the characters as much as I do. Enjoy!
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MOUNT JUSTICE
December 31st, 03:12 EST
The cave was quiet as you zeta’d in. You’d only managed a few hours of sleep before you woke up in a fit. Ollie’s penthouse was silent though. And a quick check through the security system told you no one but you was home, in fact no one had come home, since you had. The team had made the decision to host a debrief at 0730, the next day, allowing everyone (mostly you) to recenter.
Given that the penthouse was empty, you decided to head to the cave early, if you were lucky, you’d be able to check the logs and see if Ollie, Dinah, and Roy were still up in the Watchtower or not.
“Recognized: Nightingale b-14,” the computer’s voice echoed in the darkness of the cave, and a couple of light flickered on in response.
“Computer, pull Zeta logs for the last 24 hours to the Watchtower, Nightingale Access delta echo charlie zero six,” you call out your code after a brief look assures that you’re the only one around.
“Access Denied,” the computer’s response throws you off guard as you pull up a screen, but you’re treated to a red screen.
“Under who’s authority?”
“Designation 0-2.”
“Batman?” you whisper the answer to yourself, but you can’t understand why. You’ve had access to the Watch Tower logs since Ollie and Dinah told you about the tower. You couldn’t get there without them, but you could access the logs to see who’s there currently, and you could usually see the calendar to know when Dinah and Ollie were scheduled.
“Computer, Canary Override: charlie romeo yankee seven eight nine three,” you attempt.
“Override denied.”
“What? Why?”
“Override denied per designation A-0-4.”
“A-0-4? Who is A-0-4?”
“Access Denied.”
“Oh, fuck’s sake!” you shout.
“Perhaps yelling at our computer system is not the best use of your limited time to rest?” a new voice interrupts.
You frown as you turn to look at Kaldur, “it won’t let me access the Watch Tower logs,” you huff, pointing at the red message glaring back at you.
“Why are you looking to access the logs?” he asks, brows furrowed as he looks between you and the screen.
“No one came home last night, K. I needed- I wanted- I just need to talk to Dinah, after everything that happened? I just wanted Dinah or Ollie, and they weren’t home. I passed out on the couch waiting, and when I woke up, they still hadn’t come back. I just wanted to see if they were still there,” you explain.
Kaldur’s lips pull into a frown, “They may be pre-occupied, the League, as you know, better than most, can be demanding, even at the best of times, and with the best of offers,” he states.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you defend, sensing his double meaning.
“You mean to tell me, my King is but a liar?” he challenges.
You’re quiet for a moment, Kaldur knew better than anyone, just how much you respected King Orin, “what did he say, exactly?”
“That you were also accepted into the League, that you were by far the best candidate off all those who were inducted, and yet, you were the only one who has said no to date,” he admits.
Your voice is quiet as you look at your friend, before you sigh, “how long have you known?”
“Since the meeting in November.”
“You didn’t say anything…”
“Neither did you, I decided it’d be best to follow your lead. You would have said something when you were ready to,” he shrugs.
“I’m not ready. I don’t feel ready, to be there, at that level,” you explain.
“You owe me no explanation, old friend. I have always had faith in your decisions, I won’t start questioning them now,” he assures you.
“Thanks, K,” you sigh. “Did he really say I was the best candidate?”
Kaldur smiles knowingly, and gently places a hand on your shoulder, “Come, M’gann stress baked cookies last night upon our arrival. We can indulge in those while we watch something?”
“Yes, please.”
You both got settled on the green sofas with a plate of cookies on the coffee table before you, and two mugs of tea. You were flipping through the available options when Kaldur spoke up again.
“I watched when you were barely in double digits trying to learn how to sort through your feelings and emotions,” he began and your grip on the mug tightened, while your hand with the remote dropped. “I watched as you turned it into a motivator, a strength. I watched how you learned to center yourself and be objective, even with only a decade beneath you. What you feel now, how you feel now, might be stronger, but you know how to utilize that, you know how to sort it. But until you can, until you’re able and ready, I hope you know I will be here to temper it. Just as I was before,” his tone is firm, as he expresses himself.
Slowly your gaze moves to him, and you take him in. This Kaldur was nearly an adult, he had given up the Conservatory, and trained with King Orin. This Kaldur taught you Atlantean, he helped you learn how to open yourself to magic.
“Kaldur…”
“We used to spar, do you remember? You were so full of rage and I remember the Queen sending me to spar with you one day. Garth and Tulla thought it would be unfair, they thought that with my age, my size, my magical and home advantage, you would be unable to compete. Fitting, that you knocked me down in mere minutes, despite being slowed by the water, despite being in a new place, despite your age and size. It was then that we all realized that you hold so much raw power, much more than you ever seemed to realize yourself.”
“You’d think you would’ve learned your lesson after Wally,” you scoff, sniffing to yourself and recalling the first time you met the boys.
“Oh, I did. Which is why I asked for you to be included in our studies, it’s why you studied with me, specifically, at the conservatory. You needed an outlet, then. So, you studied with us, trained with us, and despite not being naturally adept at magic, despite being out of your element, you held your own, you beat us several times. You mastered skills quicker than we ever did. You needed the distraction, to let go of all that you had been forced to carry at such a young age. I just hope you can trust me to help you with that again.”
“You were my first true friend, Kaldur’ahm. I had Roy, but he had always been introduced as a brother, you were a friend. You saw me, the realest version of me, rageful, angry, upset, scared, all of the negative emotions and you still decided that you would help me. You have always looked out for me, and you have always had my trust,” you’re resolute in your answer, no one had supported you through the hard parts like Kaldur had, because he was right. He had seen you at your angriest, he’d watched you fight as an outlet, seen you train yourself to the brink of exhaustion just to be free of the rage, even for a minute, and instead of telling you that you were wrong for your methods, he instead offered you new outlets, new opportunities. He lent you his strength and stability when you had none.
“I am honored to hold that title, my bird. We made a promise, you remember? A piece of our histories intertwined,” he states, smiling at you as he tugs a gold chain from under his shirt. Your gaze lingers on it for a moment before dropping to the ring you’d been subconsciously fidgeting with.
The ring that had allowed you to breathe underwater, the one that allowed you to live in Atlantis as if you were an Atlantean yourself, it was obviously special. But what made it so treasured was not the gift it gave, it was the who the gift was from. The ring had belonged to Kaldur’s mother. It had been she, who when King Orin asked for a volunteer, a home for the girl from the dry world, had stepped forward. She had opened her home, and had offered the ring to be enchanted for you. She became your advocate while you lived in Atlantis, she treated you like you were one of her own. When it was finally time for you to return to your home, over a year later, she had told you to keep the ring, “I’d always hoped to pass this ring to a daughter,” she’d said, and you cried as you hugged her one last time.
On Kaldur’s first trip to visit you, merely a month after you’d gone back to Star City, you’d given him a chain. It had belonged to your father, and he’d worn it his whole life. Something that had been gifted to him when he was young from his father, who got it from his father before him. There’s a small pendent that hangs, your family’s crest, just like on your ring, they were a set technically.
You’d managed to enchant the item with your limited ability just in time for Kaldur’s first visit. “It’s meant to be passed to sons. I’d really like it if our histories were intwined. If I’m going to carry such a meaningful part of yours and your mom’s history, then I’d really like if you were to carry this of mine.” As far as you know, he hadn’t taken it off since you gave it to him almost three years ago.
The frown reappears on your lips as you look at the chain, and then at Kaldur. “Sometimes… I wish I was still there. It was easier living with you. There were no secret machinations, just you and me, and Garth and Tulla. I- I was hurting, I know that, but-”
“I understand,” he promises and you can’t help but let out a watery laugh.
“Of course you do. You’re Kaldur’ahm, no one ever seems to understand me as well as you do,” you smile.
“Rest, my friend, you have earned it. Our debrief with the Batman is 0730, however, I suspect he will be here early.”
“0700?” you ask.
“See you then,” he promises, tossing you a pillow and a blanket.
“Thanks, K, for everything,” you smiled, plopping back.
“Anytime, my friend, anytime.”
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MOUNT JUSTICE December 31st, 06:30 EST
When you wake up again, it’s to Conner staring down at you with a quirked brow.
“Shit, Conner, why are you just staring at me like that?” you groan rubbing at your eyes.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you yet,” he admits, one hand rubbing at his neck.
“Yeah, I came earlier this morning. Canary and GA were at the Tower all night long. K, sat with me for a while.”
“Well, since you’re here… maybe we can talk about-”
“About your dad?” you ask, staring up at the roof of the cave.
“Don’t. Please don’t call him that. There's so much to figure out, but he’s not… not my dad,” you haven't turned back to him yet, but you can hear the tension in his tone.
“Genetic Donor then?” you offer turning back to him with a lazy smirk before adjusting yourself to lean against the arm of the sofa, tucking your legs beneath you.
“Genetic Donor works,” he sighs, sitting down in the now empty space on the sofa with you.
It’s silent for a minute as you both process, and then you're giggling. Conner’s eyes blow wide, as he stares at you. You cant help yourself though. Your giggles soon turn to full blown laughs, tears forming in your eyes.
“NG… nightingale… (y/n)!” Conners tone grew increasingly harried with each call to you.
“I’m sorry, I- I just… he killed my parents. I’m an orphan… be-because of Lex fucking Luthor, and he’s the only reason you're even here. He’s the reason I’m here!” you’re still laughing.
It has to be some sort of break, your mind finally deciding it's had enough.
That's when the laughs trail off, and you're left with tears.
You stop heaving and you take a deep breath, everything grows silent, you shut your eyes and center yourself. When you open your eyes you're staring at Conner again.
“I don't know how to fix this,” he admits.
You offer him a weak smile as your shoulders droop, “you can't,” you relent and Conner sags back into the sofa too.
“What now?” he asks.
“We be honest with each other, and the team. You and me, we're bonded by something now. I didn't realize it when we freed you from your pod, or when you helped us escape, but we are.”
“Allies against Lex?” he offers, holding out his hand.
“Allies against Lex,” you confirm, shaking his hand.
A not so innocent piece of you takes advantage and reads his emotions. You're reassured by the feelings of honesty, compassion, and belonging. You stare at Conner for a moment before letting go of his hand.
“What time is it?” you ask, stretching out a bit.
“You have about 15 until debrief.”
“Okay, thanks,” you sigh, standing up.
“I’ll see you in the cortex?” he asks, standing up as well.
“Yeah,” you confirm before heading to the locker room.
You're all standing in a line when Batman finally zetas in. You hadn’t had a chance to talk to Rob, or anyone else from the team about yesterday before he arrived.
He starts by asking for a rundown of events. Which we oblige. We explain everything from start to finish, the reveals, the truths, the plan for Santa Prisca. Everything leading up to the moment of Lex Luthor’s escape.
And when all of that is said and done you swallow your fears down hard before stepping forward, “Additionally, after defeating Bane with Robin and Zatanna, when I became aware of Luthor’s escape-”
“She was a little upset, which I’d argue is completely warranted considering everything we found out yesterday,” Wally cuts in, interrupting you before you can admit to how you lost control.
“Yes, but-” your second attempt is interrupted as well.
“Which is why we would like to request that the development of a case against Luthor be a Team priority,” Robin’s the one to cut in this time, proffering an official request on behalf of the team.
You risk a glance at the Team, and you don’t need M’gann’s abilities to understand what they're trying to say. So you shut up, and step back in line, waiting for Batman’s response to the debrief as well as the request.
He doesn't say anything for a minute, and then Kaldur is stepping in, “We have reason to feel proud of yesterday's victories. But one thing has not changed,” he alludes.
“Somehow, the bad guys are still getting intel about us,” Robin offers.
“Yeah, but at least we know none of us are the mole,” Wally counters.
For the first time that morning Batman finally speaks up, “That's correct,” he confirms, and he does so with serious conviction.
You want to be reassured by his confirmation, but something about the whole briefing was throwing you off, and it wasn't the discussion of Luthor.
“The mole,” he begins again, “was Red Arrow.”
Theres a brief silence as Roy’s image is displayed before everyone explodes.
“Roy?” Robin repeats disbelievingly.
“No way!” Wally’s voice had pitched up in his rebuttal.
You on the other hand, felt as the first of the strings holding you up snapped. Kaldur places a hand on your shoulder as if he knew, before turning back to the Dark Knight, “Batman, that cannot be. He was Green Arrow's protégé. We have all known him for years.”
“Unfortunately, the Roy Harper we have known for the last three years is another Project Cadmus clone,” Red Tornado explains.
You have to fight to catch your breath, this couldn’t be happening. You’d known Roy longer than that, you would've realized!
“We've learned the real Speedy was abducted and replaced soon after becoming Green Arrow's sidekick,” Batman explains and you finally step forward.
“No,” the seriousness of the word echoes in the cave. “I’ve known Roy longer than that, its been way more than three years! I would have noticed if CADMUS had substituted my own brother in front of me!” your argument is urgent, something had to be wrong.
“Unless they took a self fabricated opportunity to substitute the clone in a time of chaos. Where Speedy’s patrol partner and closest confidant was… gone?” Batman paints a picture but you're so hyper-focused on the Roy of it all you miss what he’s hinting to.
Theres a sharp intake of breath behind you, when you turn you see Kaldur, his eyes wide as he stares at you, “You came to Atlantis almost four years ago, you were gone from the surface world for over a year…” he reminds you, and you feel another string snap.
“No.”
“You said everyone seemed different, you were different, you were re-adjusting, it’d be reasonable to assume you wouldn't have noticed,” Kaldur’s tone is soft.
“No! Don't you understand?” you shout, turning to the team. “If that's true, it means the riot where they escaped was planned, they meant to cause a distraction, to throw us off guard so that they could switch-”
“Switch their Roy for ours,” Wally finishes, green eyes full of remorse on your behalf.
“And they waited almost year to put that into action, capitalizing off of the disarray of Star City's heroes,” Artemis tacks on.
“I would have noticed!” you argue, voice cracking as you try to reign in your emotions.
“The clone was pre-programmed with a drive to join the Justice League,” Batman intervenes, continuing to provide the information he had at hand. “Which is why he was so angry over any delays to his admission and why he refused to join the Team. This Roy Harper had no idea he was a clone or a traitor. And his subconscious programming drove him to become League-worthy. So he struck out on his own as Red Arrow.”
Your head was spinning, heart beating so fast and loud in your ears, it was a miracle you were still standing up. Something was wrong, something had to be wrong. Where was Dinah and Ollie? If this were true they’d come to tell you in person, they would. How could Ollie have not noticed? How could Dinah? Something had to be wrong.
“When he was finally admitted, his secondary programming kicked in and he attempted to betray the League to Vandal Savage.”
Your stomach flipped, Savage?
“Fortunately, I had already deduced Red Arrow was a clone. We were prepared.”
He had what?!
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you whisper, Conner and Kaldur seem to be the the only two who hear you as they offer you mildly concerned expressions.
“Savage was subdued but Red Arrow escaped. He is now a fugitive, armed and dangerous,” Red Tornado continues.
“If you guys hadn't rescued me from CADMUS...” Conner trails off, eyes jumping from me to Kaldur.
“What happened to the real Roy?” Rob’s the one to voice the question and your heart stutters. Real Roy as if the one you'd known since your return wasn't real in some way. They were both real, at least they were to you.
“We don't know. He isn't at Cadmus. We have to face the possibility that the real Roy Harper is dead.”
You can't stop it. The bubble of grief, pain, and guilt. It bursts out of you, and of course Kaldur’s the one to catch it. His hand lands heavily on your shoulder, and you take deep breaths to center yourself. They don't know, you remind yourself. He could be alive and on ice somewhere, you repeat. You're forcing thoughts of hope down your own throat, hoping something will be digestible.
The last thing you're expecting is for Robin to grab ahold of your hand, not in front of Batman, and not after yesterday’s incident. Today, however, he doesn't waver or flinch back like he had the day before, so you can't tell if he can feel what you are right now. He simply snags your hand and tightens his grasp, until you're squeezing back.
“The clone Roy. The Team will find him,” Kaldur decides, his tone leaves little space.
Yet, somehow, Batman blows it wide open, “Negative. Red Arrow's a member of the Justice League now. Leave him to us.”
There's an argument forming on your lips, but a beep from his comms forces you to shut up.
“I'm needed on the Watchtower. Tornado, stay with the kids,” Batman decides and Robins hand slackens a bit. Kids? Since when did Batman call you kids?
The zeta lights up a second later, “Recognized, Batman, zero-two.”
You turn and run to the closest bathroom, you can hear as a few people shout after you, but you’re focused on making it to the bathroom. Your knees hit the ground hard as you all but collapse and then your heaving up the little that’s in your stomach. The protein bar and cookies that Conner had swiped from the kitchen for you, the orange juice Kaldur had poured for you, and the the blueberries that you’d scarfed down as well.
There’s a hand on your back, another keeping your hair back. “Wally?” your voice is a hoarse whisper.
“It’s me,” he affirms.
You nod and close your eyes for a second before you’re heaving again.
“I got you,” he promises, gently rubbing circles into your back.
You knew that, Wally’s always got your back. You know he probably didn’t hesitate to chase after to you, and that he most likely told everyone else to stay back. “I would have noticed,” you repeat.
“(Y/n)…”
“I should have noticed,” you say, sliding back, wiping at your mouth and leaning against the wall before turning to your friend.
“That’s not on you,” Wally argued.
“He’s my brother, my responsibility,” you shoot back.
“C’mon, let’s get you back before Rob starts panicking,” he huffs, pulling you up.
“I need to bru-” before you can finish Wally disappears and reappears with the toothbrush from your locker and a tube of toothpaste.
“Your teeth?” he asks cheekily.
You shake your head before quickly brushing your teeth. When you and Wally get back it’s to Kaldur’s awaiting stare. You offer a nod and he turns to face the rest of the team before looking back at you. He gives you a look signifying that it was your move this time, your call. Your stomach’s still unsettled but you swallow down your nerves and confusion before addressing the team.
  “Clone or no clone, Red Arrow was one of us. For three years, he was ours. We will go after him, and we will figure this out, on our terms,” you decide.
  You had planned to say more, but the sudden sounds from Red Tornado force you to stop. He freezes about a foot and a half away from you. Then, it's like he shut down. A sound as if he was being powered down, as the entire armor freezes, and his head tilts down.
  “Tornado!” M’gann’s shout is slightly panicked.
“What happened?” Conner’s squinting.
“He's powered down,” Wally notes, tone slightly curious.
“All functions off-line,” Robins got a frown as well, analyzing Red Tornadoes stats on his wrist-computer.
“Something doesn’t feel right,” you note, staring between the stats as well as Tornado.
“Guys, I'm sensing a low-level mystic force at play. I don't know if it caused his shutdown, but… now that I think about it, I was getting the same buzz off Batman,” Zatanna admits, and your frown deepens.
“Batman,” Robin repeats. “He called us kids. He never does that.”
  You step forward, analyzing every aspect of Tornado that you could, Wally comes up behind you and does the same.
  “Look,” Wally’s call pulls your attention. When he straightens up you can see something in his hands, “One of those bio-tech chips we confiscated off Cheshire.”
“Nightingale is right, something is not right,” Kaldur agrees. “Robin, Kid, Zatanna, Rocket, see if you can get Tornado back online,” he directs. “The rest with me to find Ro... Red Arrow.”
  The team pauses despite Kaldur’s clear instruction, and slowly they look from him, to each other, and then to you. You know why they paused, even Kaldur seems frozen as he stares at you. His decision would put you into the field, it would allow you to look for Roy, to be there when the Team finds him. Going with them would also separate you from both Wally and Dick.
  You must’ve stayed silent too long, “Birdy,” Wally’s voice seemed to echo as he called out your name.
“Sorry,” you mutter, looking up. “Kaldur’s right, we.. uh, we have to split up.”
  Wally and Dick look at each other and then they look at you.
  “It’ll be okay,” you tell them. “I have to find him, my brother, my responsibility. Plus, who knows him better than me?”
  No one has an answer and you nod.
  “Suit up,” you confirm once more before the team nods, and disperses accordingly.
  Wally, Dick, and Kaldur hang back. The three of them don’t speak, but they’re exchanging looks with each other and with yourself. No one says a word, but you offer a look of your own, and then roll your eyes at them. They pause and as always, Wally’s the first to crack. He throws his hands up looking at the two other boys and then gesturing to you. When that doesn’t get the response he wants, he throws his hands up again, waving them around.
You smile softly, hands coming to Wally’s shoulders. You offer a forced lopsided smile, tilting your head to the side. Wally responds by shaking his head, and you tighten your grip. You give him a pleading look, Wally’s face scrunches but he finally stares at you head on. You nod, gently and he sighs before nodding back.
You pass along a feeling of comfort, trying to make him understand that it’ll be okay.
“Yeah,” Wally confirms, before walking off.
Kaldur offers you a nod of his head and you nod back, before he walks toward the bioship.
You pause for a second and take a breath, and then there’s a hand on your shoulder and you’re hit with concern, longing, and a need to protect. You take another breath and turn to face Dick. He’s staring at you for a second, he opens his mouth and then closes it. In the end he stares at you making a closed fist with his right hand and rubs little clockwise circles on his chest. Your ASL was passable, a skill that Dinah and Ollie thought was important to learn for the streets, it seems like Bruce thought the same for Dick. Sorry, that’s what he was saying.
You know what he’s sorry for, you knew it the second he grabbed your hand. You take your right hand, rub a circle with your palm against your chest, and then with a flat hand swipe above your temple with your fingertips, I know.
He shakes his head, the barest of a smile on his lips.
You offer a soft smile at Dick one last time before walking towards the locker room. You’re quick to grab your gear, and you’re silent until your in the bioship, and in the air.
“Old friend,” Kaldur’s voice is soft inside the bioship, but you’re forced to pay attention to him regardless.
“I know what you’re going to say,” you sigh.
“Oh?”
“It’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known,” you trail off.
“Wrong,” Artemis interrupts.
“Am I?”
“Yeah, we were all going to say it,” Conner scoffed.
You soften at that.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” you say sadly.
“How so?” M’gann’s voice is as soft as it has always been.
“Because I did know, a piece of me did, at least,” you tell them, gaze focusing on the clouds as you pass them by out the window.
“What?” Conner’s accusation cuts clear.
“I knew something was wrong. I could feel it. Ever since my abilities… he would get angry, over things he never used to. I just wrote it off, I- I knew it was wrong, it felt wrong, it didn’t feel like natural anger, it was sudden, it was triggered but not by anything I could see. I should’ve said something, should’ve told someone,” you admit to them.
“You had no reason to suspect ulterior machinations,” Kaldur countered. “And though I know it bothers you, you both had grown apart since the foundation of the team.”
“Yeah,” you nod, fingers tracing over the ring dagger you’d been fidgeting with, “maybe.”
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WASHINGTON, D.C. December 31st, 09:06 EST
“Logs indicate Red Arrow zeta'd to the Hall from the Watchtower,” Artemis stated, “But he could be anywhere by now, I also was only able to read the Hall logs, the Watchtower ones have been classified,” she adds on.
Kaldur clears his throat and turns to you expectantly, “So, I kind of didn’t appreciate how Roy tried to cut ties with everyone when he went solo, so I might’ve done some digging…” you trail, typing in new coordinates.
“Digging?” Conner asks.
“Okay, fine, investigating, and tailing, and the whole package pretty much. I found his main apartment, and discovered that he had installed equipment caches in several major cities,” you relent.
Conner coughs out, “stalker,” before clearing his throat, and you roll your eyes.
“One is here,” you continue as the bioship comes to a stop over an apartment complex.
“So… who’s going down, because, uh… not it,” Artemis muses weakly.
“I am,” you assure her.
“We are,” Kaldur corrects.
You nod and you both stand, you readjust your utility belt and pull a sweatshirt over the top of your suit, and then you pull your leather jacket on as well. It looks inconspicuous enough, at least as much as it would ever for your needs.
You and Kaldur drop to the roof, the access door was unlocked and you made your way down one floor. Roy had gotten an apartment on the top floor. When you come upon the door you crouch down with your lock picks, but between your latent anxiety, and the need to find Roy, your focus is slightly skewed.
“Perhaps, this is not the time for stealth?” Kaldur offers sagely.
You sigh and hang your head, hiding your lock pick tools in their place under your sleeve once again, “yeah.”
“Shall I? Or, would you like to?” he asks, gesturing to the door.
“I will,” you nod, standing back up.
You take a breath and stare at the door, and then with a heafty amount of force you kick down the door, you manage to put in enough force to rock the door off a hinge, and when it clears your vision you’re greeted by Roy holding up his bow with two arrows notched.
You notice the way his hand dips a second as he realizes it’s you he’s got an arrow focused on, “How’s it hanging, Roy?” you ask, but there’s a tough edge to your tone.
“You know, business as usual, Birdy,” he huffs out, but he retrains the arrows on you both.
“We have not come to harm nor apprehend you,” Kaldur cuts in. “But the Team requires answers-”
“Me first,” Roy interrupts. “Tell me something you haven’t told anyone else… tell me who broke your heart.”
Your jaw drops, “Roy!” your tone is more chastising than it was before. You know why it’s necessary, but it’s a low blow for Kaldur, a very low blow.
Kaldur places a hand on your shoulder, “Tula. The girl I loved chose my best friend Garth over me,” he answers, and you can hear the fight to keep his voice level. “While the man I consider by best friend on the surface world aims an arrow at my chest.”
Roy moves and suddenly both arrows are pointed at you.
“Roy-” Kaldur’s tone turned dangerous, but to your credit your eyes narrow and you tilt your chin up at him daringly.
“E.T. phone home,” Roy says, and you don’t need to touch Kaldur to feel the confusion rolling off of him.
There’s a pang in your heart, Roy, this Roy, was pulling on one of the earliest decisions you all made, code phrases. Methods to promise sanity, self, but also a warning when necessary. They were all movie phrases, famous enough to remember, but mismatched enough that no one would be able to guess. You’d both decided on them after you’d returned from Atlantis and Dinah let you return to patrol.
“Toto, I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore,” you whisper.
Roy’s entire body sags. The bow and arrows clatter to the floor as he drops to his knees, and you’re quick to drop with him. You land on your knees right in front of him.
“You’re killin’ me, Smalls,” you whisper once again to him.
“As if,” he shoots back, and you crush him in a hug.
The both of you clutch onto each other, you grip him tight just for the minute being. You hug him tight and he hugs back, and you revel in it. In it’s familiarity. He might have not been the Roy that was brought home to you, but he is the one you spent the last three years with, he is still your Roy. The one who helped you readjust to being back in Star City, the one who would drive you to school, and would tap you gently when you’d accidentally slip back into Atlantean. The one who would reassure you that life was going to be okay, who would sit beside your bed, who would hold your hand, who watched your back, he was your brother. Your brother, your responsibility.
Slowly you both re-centered, and then you hauled him up to the roof, and then all three of you were pulled back up into the bioship. It’s quiet when you’re all back.
“We’re clear,” you say quietly and there’s a collective breath let out.
Everyone settled into their seats and soon enough we were back in the air.
Kaldur doesn’t waste any time, “We were told you were the mole,” he explains and Roy puffs out a breath.
“But we have reason to doubt,” you quickly inserted.
“Forget doubt. I was the mole,” Roy states, and you let out an audible groan, staring up at the roof of the ship.
“Batman and Tornado said you’re a CADMUS clone, like me,” Conner admits.
Roy turns to look at you, and you offer a slight nod, “That explains it,” he nods with a sigh that makes him seem more tired than surprised. “I was a sleeper agent, pre-programmed to infiltrate the League…. I think Sportsmaster was my handler. He had a key-phrase, Broken Arrow… that could shut me down, put me in a hypnotic state to steal secrets for his superiors, or incorporate further programming. I'd then carry out all orders subconsciously completely unaware of what drove me.”
Roy paused and you stared back at him, “take me back?” you whisper to him and he shut his eyes and nodded once more before turning back to the rest of the team, specifically the three seated behind you.
“I think one of those orders was to focus suspicion on the three of you. I'm sorry,” he adds on.
“How did Batman discover this and prevent you from betraying the League?” Kaldur asks.
Roy pauses, and looks at you, “He didn't.”
“Fuck,” you sigh.
“Birdy,” Kaldur’s voice is level, and there’s a request in it to make sure you remain so as well.
“So what happened?” you ask, pulling yourself together.
“The entire League’s been put under mental domination via those chips you guys found,” Roy sighs, scrubbing at his face.
“The ones we got off Jade?” Artemis cut in.
“Yeah, he called ‘em Starro-tech, an alien bio-organism infused with nanotechnology and magic,” Roy explained.
“Nanotechnology and magic?” you repeat. “Artemis, in the Bayou, you said you saw-”
“Klarion, the Brain, Gorilla Mallah, and Professor Ivo,” she answers.
“If there was ever a trust that could pull something like that off…” you trail.
“What do they do? The chips?
“It shuts down the mind’s autonomy, allows the controller to reprogram the individual to suit their needs,” Roy explains.
“Wait…” Conner calls interrupting. “You said He called them, who’s he?”
Roy grimaces, looks around the ship and then straight at you, and you already don’t like where this is headed, “Savage,” he says and you don’t even make it a second before you explode.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” you shout. “VANDAL SAVAGE? WHAT THE FUCK!”
“Language,” Roy says automatically, and then he twitches, like he hadn’t meant to say it. “And I knew you weren’t going to like that.”
“But this chip, it affected everyone?” M’gann asked, and you had no doubt she was thinking about her uncle.
“This Starro-tech, it worked on super-powered humans, four flavors of alien, an android, even Doctor Fate,” Roy explained.
“Defeating all of you without a fight?” Conner asks.
“Indeed. A remarkable achievement. One not easily countered,” Kaldur points out.
“I'm sorry, but how is it that you are no longer enslaved?” M’gann’s the one to ask and your body tenses up.
“No Starro-tech, for starters. Just my CADMUS programming, and once I had satisfied its last parameter, my mind began to clear,” Roy admits. “I'm sure Savage planned to Starro-tech me, but he paused to bask… I escaped.”
You turn in your seat and look back at M’gann, urging her to understand, and luckily, she does. She nods at you with a gentle smile, “I promise, I can clean any residual programming from your mind,” M’gann says, reassuring you, despite the intention being directed at Roy.
  “Linking both squads and de-camouflaging,” M’gann’s voice suddenly echoes in your head and you spot the super cycle as it moves into docking position.
“Great. Because we really need to compare notes,” Robin’s voice has an edge, and as you come face to face with him and the other half of your team, you spot Wally’s frown and notice Dinah.
“What the fuck?” your voice takes on it’s own lethal edge as your gaze jumps from your unconscious and tied up mentor to the rest of the team.
It took some time but eventually both halves of the team had been caught up, now the only think left was to figure out the next move.
  “What if we reverse engineer the starro-tech?” Wally’s the one to make the suggestion and it has all of you pausing.
“Great idea, but how?” Artemis’ tone is dry but she makes a valid point.
  It goes quiet and that’s when you have an idea.
  “ti tha ginótan an rotoúsame ti vasílissa?" (what if we were to ask the queen?) the question echoes across the link but only one person can understand.
Kaldur blinks slowly and in a hesitant tone asks, “*Rota tin gia ti akrivos?*" (ask her for what exactly?)
Your lip quirks a bit, “*an boroúme dioikitís Giatrós V?*" (if we can commandeer Doctor V?)
You’re not sure what you were expecting but you’re not sure why you were surprised, Kaldur’s always backed your plans, “Pistévete óti o Red échei akóma ton arithmó tis Roquette?" (Do you think Red still has Roquette’s number?)
You offer a lopsided smile, “**Tha chreiastoúme óli ti voítheia pou boroúme na pároume**." (We’re gonna need all the help we can get.)
“Would someone like to clue those of us not fluent in Atlantean in?” Conner’s tone cuts through your conversation.
  You share another look with Kaldur.
  “It’s your plan,” he prods.
“Wally has the right idea, we have to reverse engineer the chip. We don’t stand a chance if we don’t,” you remind everyone.
“But you have a plan that will address that,” Robin realizes.
“Of course she does, when it comes down to it, our girl’s always got a plan,” Wally snorts, but by the way he scrubs at his face you realize he’s on edge.
You nod, “what do we know about the staro-tech?”
“Alien bio-organisim infused with nanotechnology and magic… what are you thinking?” Roy trails.
“I think you have the number for a nanotechnologies expert who owes us a favor, and I happen to know a few individuals who specialize in magic and science, in fact they run a whole conservatory, that teaches kids like us, well, like Kaldur,” you hint to everyone else.
“Doctor Roquette and Queen Meera,” Robin realizes.
“Alongside Doctor Vulko, who runs the Atlantean Science Center, he’s the Minister of Science for the kingdom,” Kaldur adds.
“Doctor Spence too,” Connor adds, “She worked for CADMUS, she probably can help reverse engineer the chips.”
“Which means there’s also three people we need to pick up, ASAP,” you point out.
  Another silence fils the ship, Wally’s already shaking his head, and Rob’s still staring straight at you.
  “We have to split up,” Rocket’s the one to state the obvious.
“Again?” Zatanna’s voice wobbles a bit.
  You bite down hard on your lip to keep yourself focused.
  “We have to, the quicker we get them, the quicker we fix this. We have to fix this,” you say, voice level.
“How do you want to handle it?” Robin’s the one to ask, his own voice level, but you can see the twitch in his hand.
Your lips tug down as you prepare to answer, because there’s only one possibility, “Superboy and Miss Martian will pick up Dr. Spence. Kid Flash and Robin will escort Red Arrow-” you don’t mean for your voice to crack but it does. “Will escort Red Arrow and retrieve Dr. Roquette.”
“You’ve got to be joking,” Wally’s scoff, clearly depicts what he thinks of your decision.
“Dude,” Robin’s quick to cut him off.
“And Aqualad and I will take the super cycle to go to Atlantis,” you finish. “Artemis, Zee, and Rocket will play support, and keep tabs on Canary. Please do not lose my mentor. Plus they can run background with RT.”
  You’re met with silence.
  “This is the plan, if someone has a better idea, speak up now, otherwise, you know what you have to do,” you swallow back the anxiety, and focus your gaze on Kaldur, you can’t look at anyone else, not right now.
  You remember his words from earlier, to lean on him, and to allow him to support you. It was all so overwhelming, it’s all too much, but staring at Kaldur reminded you of the little girl who was barely 10 when she was dropped in Atlantis. The girl so full of rage she couldn’t sort through her own emotions. Kaldur knew how to help that girl center herself, taught her how to cope and handle things.
  “Well if no one else is going to say it; I have some thoughts,” Wally scoffs again.
“Trust me, we know you do, Wall-Man,” Artemis’ dry tone actually puts a smile on your lips, a small quirk of a thing, but it works.
“I’m only taking constructive criticism at the moment,” you tag on, and your gaze finally flickers to Wally who is simply glaring at you.
  You offer a shrug in response, and you can feel the heat of Wally’s glare, the discomfort radiating off of Dick, but you don’t have it in you right now to address it.
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ATLANTIS December 31st, 13:13 EST
“Our friends are… displeased,” Kaldur notes cautiously once it’s just the two of you on the supercycle.
“I know,” you nod, and you did, you felt it in the air, rolling off your teammates, your friends, as you and Kaldur geared up to split off.
“What are you thinking, poulí?” the question weighs heavy on you.
“I am thinking that this is my only plan, K. I don’t have a back up if we should fail this time around,” you admit.
“Then it’s good we trust in your planning, old friend. Your plans have never led us astray thus far,” he muses.
“Define astray,” you scoff back, Kaldur lets a smile slip, and then a hand lands on your shoulder comfortingly.
“They believe in you, and so do I,” he reassures you. “This idea, utilizing our resources, it is a good plan.”
“Vandal Savage, Kaldur, it’s a big play we’re chancing at here,” you sigh, twisting your rings nervously.
“Yes, and we are making the most educated choices we can. Believe in yourself, poulí, just as we do.”
You nod silently doing your best to absorb Kaldur’s reassurances. Soon enough the Super-cycle begins to descend. It pauses part way submerged, and you reach out with the ring clad finger to touch the water. Kaldur is silent beside you as you ground yourself. You feel the current, the pull of the ocean, and firmly you say, “anapnéo,” the ring made from atlantean metal glows, and then with a tap to the Super-cycle it submerges completely.
The first breath is always a bit nerve wracking, it feels like you’re entirely out of practice, and therefore not prepared to breathe. But you do. You cautiously, slowly breathe in, and when it feels as normal as it does on land your body relaxes.
“pos niótheis poulí?" (how do you feel, Birdy?) Kaldur’s question jars your wandering thoughts back into the present.
“étoimo na cheiristeí ó,ti prépei na cheiristeí ,” (ready to handle what needs to be handled) you assure him and he nods.
Minutes pass and then you are confronted with the city of Atlantis, beautiful in all its glowing magic and technology. You smile at the city fondly and catch the wanting in Kaldur’s eye, this was him home, and for a year it had been your own. The two of you had developed your friendship in this city, it will always, without a doubt, be a very special place for you.
As the cycle passes through the gates and toward the conservatory, you push the melancholic nostalgia away, and do your best to focus in on the mission at hand, there was too much as stake to be distracted by memories of the past. As Kaldur disembarks, you follow, and the two of you make your way into the Conservatory of Magic.
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MOUNT JUSTICE
December 31st, 15:42 EST
“So you need us to develop something that will work against, whatever magicked up alien technology that Mr. Big Bad, Vandal Savage is using against the Justice League?” Roquette’s tone was the same as it was when you first encountered her, and you share a look with Kaldur when you both notice it.
“The heroes have come to us for help, should we not so long as we are able?” Dr. Vulko, ever the voice of reason, and forever on the side of progress is the balm you didn’t realize you’d need.
“I agree, this is an opportunity to do good with the knowledge we have acquired over our years,” Dr. Spence’s agreement catches you off guard, but the pride and satisfaction rolling off of SB tells you this is exactly what he’d hoped for.
“It’s simple, Kaldur’ahm and Poulí told us what’s wrong, you’re either here to help, or they can show you the door,” Tulla’s blunt and to the point, and you have the choke down the snort as you stare appreciatively at the redhead, you notice that Kaldur’s doing the same, some things, you imagine, would never change.
You’d all regrouped at the Cave, scientists and specialists in hand. Tulla had been Queen Veera’s contribution and envoy as she could not leave Atlantis without a sane monarch, and especially not in a time where the King had been compromised. Each recruit had been given the details during their travel, but once they were all together, the gravity had seemingly begun to set in. Dr. Rouquette was as vibrant as she had been when you’d first met, despite that though, they had begun a prompt discussion on how the chip works, and a prefatory analysis on the confiscated chip.
  “So do we think this is gonna work? Or should we be considering a back-up plan?” Rocket’s voice echoes though the open link and while the specialists continue their discussions, the team sends knowing looks to each other.
“this is the plan, the only plan,” you tell them seriously.
“Wait, seriously? You always have a back-up?” Artemis’ surprise is evident, and your lips twist down in response.
“Figures, considering her go-to has also been compromised,” Wally’s judgement is clear and your eye twitches in response.
“Sorry about that,” Zatanna’s voice is meek in response, and you catch the way Artemis, punches Wally in the arm, and his accompanying wince.
“So not your fault,” you finally cut in. “And I don’t hear you offering something else up, Wall-Man?” you state bitingly, shooting him a glare at which Wally winces again.
“To be fair, this was originally his idea,” Conner cuts in.
“Semantics,” Robin disagrees, “plus, Birdy’s the one with the connections to make it happen.”
“Gee, thanks, Rob. My genius and l feel so appreciated,” Wally scoffs, rolling his eyes.
“Right, so… back-up plan?” Rocket asks again.
“I don’t know! Short of contacting any non-affiliated heroes, or intergalactic organizations, I’m not sure what else we can do,” you sigh, a hand coming up to pinch at the bridge of your nose, while you work to secure your emotions and constrain your frustration.
“Intergalactic organizations?” Rocket repeats.
“OA,” the response is echoed by Wally, Rob, Roy, and Kaldur, you can’t help but notice this is the first time Roy was participating.
“OA,” you confirm, and then catching the confused look, on Rocket and Zatanna’s faces you add, “The Green Lantern Corps.”
“Oh,” Zatanna’s understanding is soft, as her eyes widen.
“We have a line to them?” Rocket asks, surprise evident.
“…We have potential avenues,” Robin supplies, defending your point while making eye contact with you.
“We do?” Artemis’ question is fair, and you hesitate, but your eyes lock with Roy, and then with Dick.
“Earth has another Green Lantern,” You remind the team.
“Is he not a part of the league?” Zatanna squints.
“…There were some concerns about his attitude and maturity,” Dick supplies cautiously.
“But they let Roy in?” the dig slips from Artemis’ thoughts, and by the look on her face you know she didn’t mean to project that particular thought.
  You can’t help the very audible snort, and a hand comes up over your face in embarrassment as everyone turns to you.
You catch the small smirk on Dick’s face, and Wally’s chuckling a little bit too. And when Roy turns to you, betrayed, you can’t help but start to giggle, and when your avert your gaze, they land on Wally. Which really was the worst move because then you’re both laughing.
“Okay!” Roy huffs. “Laugh it up, Birdy,” he scoffs.
“Sor-” you try but burst into another fit, until you’re practically leaning on Kaldur to stay upright.
When you finally get control, you catch the small smile on Kaldur’s face, and even Roy’s scowl has faded a bit.
“Sorry,” you say seriously, bitting your lip and straightening up.
  “Should we be worried?” Rocket asks, wide eyes on you.
“No, sorry, I just… whew, I needed a laugh, thanks Artemis,” you smile.
Artemis blushes a bit in response, “What were you going to say about the other Lantern?” she prompts, pushing the conversation back on track.
“Right, Guy Gardner,” you share. “Kind of a bully based on Canary’s files, it’s the reason he hasn’t been inducted. But he is a Lantern, and the ring did choose him. He’s based out of Baltimore, Maryland. If we fail here, we just need to get word to him, hopefully he’ll take it seriously,” you shrug.
“Reassuring,” Rocket laments flatly, and all you can do is shrug again.
  “Kaldur’ahm, Poulí, I think we may have come to an understanding,” Vulko’s voice booms across the room, and your head snaps to him immediately.
“What do you need?” you ask, setting your shoulders, as the rest of the team turns to face the brain trust.
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THE WATCHTOWER December 31st, 23:16 EST
Infiltrating the Watchtower was not something you’d ever thought you’d have to do. However, somehow, you really can’t find it in you to be totally surprised.
Dinah, now freed from Starro-Tech’s control, along with Roy and Red Tornado had gone in as a distraction, allowing the team to handle the rest. Part of you had been hesitant to let Roy out of your sight after finally finding him. Not to mention Dinah. You’d twitched a little too violently, when she volunteered to go back, and Roy and Dick had both given you cautious looks as a response.
The waiting was the worst though.
You watched as M’gann, Kaldur, and Connor broke through the wall where the Bioship had docked. Robin kept an eye on the alarms and scanners the entire time, covering the Team’s tracks as he went.
Eventually, it was time.
  “RT did it. Wirelessly bypassed security for us as soon as he arrived. Savage shouldn't know we're here,” Robin confirmed, once we’d all regrouped inside the watchtower.
Aqualad nodded, before casting a quick glance at the rest of the team, “move out.”
“Currently tracking five League members between us and Savage,” Robin shares as you and Kaldur begin leading everyone though.
“Which ones?” Artemis’ tone is dubious, even through the link, and you can’t really say you blame her.
“Plastic Man, Hawkman, the Atom, Captain Atom, and… well,” Robin pauses on the last one and you turn back to look at him. “Green Arrow.”
  The team pauses, as they wait for the next move. There were nine of you, which meant almost everyone could double up, almost.
A quick glance at Kaldur tells you he was thinking the same thing.
  “Here’s the plan…” you speak first, “We work quietly and quickly. Take every opportunity to knock as many of the Leaguers out as we can before Savage and his cohort baddies realize what’s happening. Artemis and KF, you two take Plastic Man. SB and Rob, Hawkman. Zatanna and Miss M, the Atom. Aqualad and Rocket, Captain Atom. Leave GA to me,” the team nods, but once again you notice their hesitation.
“What?” you press.
“Are you sure you want to handle GA? One of us can do it,” Wally offers tentatively.
“No. He’s mine. But Rob, I could use a favor…”
  Armed with one of Robin’s recording birdarangs you split off from the group. You’re following your map to where GA’s icon is moving, and periodically you get updates from the rest of the team.
First it’s KF and Artemis.
  “Plastic Man in gassed, and chipped,” you can practically hear Wally’s smirk as he reports in.
  You turn another corner.
  “Hawkman’s chipped too,” Robin reports.
“Probably going to be out for a bit. I might’ve hit him a little too hard,” Superboy admits.
  You pause when you hear Oliver’s footsteps. Spotting the crates, you launch yourself up. Walking on the balls of your feet, you climb up, silently.
  “We got the Atom,” Zatanna confirms.
  You catch sight of a support beam, a few feet above you, and launch yourself up with as much strength as you can muster. You manage to grab hold, and then you pull your body up, until you’re balanced on your feet, walking the beam.
  “Captain Atom is incapacitated, but chipped,” Kaldur’s the next one to confirm, which just left you.
  You pull the chip from your belt, as well as the birdarang. Following Oliver’s path ahead, you toss the birdarang, it lands solidly in the wall.
A beat passes.
And then a second.
And then-
  “Ha, Ha, Ollie, over here!”
  Your giggle echoes down the hall, and Oliver’s quick to turn to the sound.
  “NG, status?” Robin’s voice rings through the link but you ignore it.
  You take your grapple line and wrap it around the support, making sure it’s snug in place, before attaching the line to your belt.
  “Birdy, you copy?” Wally this time.
  Oliver’s almost in position, and so you count.
one.
two.
three.
  You hold your breath as you lean back.
For a second you’re falling, and it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Luckily, the speaker starts again.
  “Ha, ha. Ollie, over here!”
  The recording covers the sound of the grapple going taught.
  “Nightingale, report in!” Kaldur, and he’s serious.
  You get about two seconds before Oliver realizes the birdarang’s what’s making the sound, and you’re suspended in the air, halfway between the ground and the support beams of the Watchtower.
The chip, which you’d been flipping around your finger’s is poised between your index and middle fingers, and right as Ollie turns, baring the side of his neck, you toss it. You throw it the way Dinah taught you to throw a shuriken.
The balance had practically been the same.
It hits Ollie and there’s a second when he turns to you, arrow drawn.
And then he collapses.
You tug on the grapple cord and it slackens. You land on your feet, twisting the cord back into your grapple as you walk up to the downed Green Arrow.
  “GA’s chipped,” you finally say, tuning back into the link.
“We’re not splitting up anymore,” Wally says quickly.
  You roll your eyes.
  “Don’t be ridiculous, KF-”
“You didn’t answer us!” Artemis cuts in.
  This time you scoff.
  “They have to realize by now,” Robin speaks up.
“He’s right, we need to move. Zatanna and Miss Martian, you two head for the dock Zeta, Rocket and I will join you,” Kaldur decides. “The rest of you head up.”
“On the way,” Zatanna confirms.
  You’d started making your way back up, sticking to the support beams as much as possible, so far, you’d avoided any further League interactions.
  “That’s Dr. Fate, Icon, and Captain Marvel taken care of,” Zatanna speaks up, and you pause for a second.
“Too bad Cure-tech doesn't work as fast as Starro-tech. We could use these guys,” Rocket huffs, and your lips quirk up, she’s not wrong.
“It is a small miracle Queen Meera and Doctors Roquette, Spence, and Vulko were able to re-engineer a cure and vaccine at all,” Kaldur reminds her.
“And their combined 8 PhDs,” you muse.
Before anyone can respond to your joke, KF interjects, “If you guys aren't busy...”
Your breath catches, but Kaldur’s already on the move, “On my way. You three rendezvous with Robin and Superboy.”
  You pick up your pace as well, and are only partially paying attention when Zatanna gives her confirmation.
  “Uh, I'll be right behind you,” she offers.
  You manage to arrive at the main deck in time to Batman hit Robin.
  “I am so not turbed,” is how you announce yourself, as your jump down from the level you’re on, using your grapple to loop down to the one where Robin is.
“Yeah, me neither,” he promises.
  You’re on your feet in time to fall in step with both Superboy and Robin, both seem to be smarting a bit after taking on Batman and Superman, understandably.
  “We're not gonna beat them one-on-one,” Robin finally announces.
“Plan B, then,” Superboy confirms.
“And I thought my contingencies were drastic,” you manage to joke out before taking Connor’s hand.
  Conner grabs a hold of you with one hand, and Robin with the other. Using his strength he spins you both, before launching you one after the other at Batman.
You land first, grabbing a handful of his cape to pull him with your momentum.
Robin’s body crashes into you both a second later, and then the three of you go into the wall. You can feel your bones rattle from the impact, but when you slide down, you manage to grab a hold of a chip as Robin hold’s Batman steady.
You place the chip, before changing your stance to drop into a roll. You pop up on one leg, escrima sticks in hand, and Robin lands crouched beside you.
You barely have a second to catch your breath before you hear Superman and Superboy go into a wall of their own.
You both take off and you hesitate when Robin reaches to his belt.
“You sure about this?” you ask as you both run up to them.
Superboy manages to grunt out a, “Just do it!” as he strains to hold Superman in place.
You grab hold of another chip while Robin opens a box.
The green light reflects off their faces, and you watch as it seems to drain them both. Conner and Superman both start sliding down, neither of them fighting anymore as they go.
As soon as Superman falls, you’re quick to place the chip, and once you do, Robin’s shutting the lead lined box tight.
You sit back on your ass and let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, turning back to check on Conner, who was pulling himself up to sit against the wall beside you.
He lets out a groan, looking at you and then at Robin, “Ugh. Kryptonite… hurts,” he admits, and you can’t help the scoff that slips past your lips.
It brings a smile to Robin’s face though.
“Which is why,” he begins, offering a hand to Conner. “Batman keeps it in an overwhelmingly impenetrable vault at the Batcave,” he explains, pulling SB back to his feet.
“Overwhelmingly impenetrable, huh?” you smirk up at the two.
Both boys smile down, offering you a hand.
“Well, more like a whelmingly penetrable vault,” Robin corrects.
You snort, taking their hands, and they’re quick to put you back on your feet as well.
“Let’s go. Vandal Savage awaits,” you remind them, and the two nod at you, before the three of you take off toward’s the main viewing deck, where the main Zeta point was for the Watchtower.
Unfortunately you get there just in time to watch Vandal Savage, Klarion, and his familiar, Teekle, disappear through a portal. Wally skidding into where they had been not even a second before.
You redirect yourself over to where Dinah and Roy are unconscious on the floor.
Wally whizzes up to you and grabs your spare de-programing chips, placing them on the leaguers who were up here, before sliding back up to the rest of you.
“Congratulations, Team. You have won the day,” Red Tornado announces, and you let out a tired chuckle at the thought.
None of you have an opportunity to respond though, because in the next second, a holoscreen appears.
“Happy New Year, Justice League,” the computer announces.
You don’t catch what Wally said, but when you turn to him, he’s holding Artemis, and they’re kissing.
Your lip twitches up, and then Connor and M’gann too.
“I’m liking this Team more every day,” Rocket decides, smirking as she kisses Kaldur’s cheek.
You roll your eyes and gag at Robin and Zatanna, both of whom smother their laughs. Zatanna looks away as she tries to keep her composure, but Robin stares back at you.
“Milkshakes?” you mouth to him while no one’s watching.
“Definitely,” he mouths back.
“Human customs still elude me,” Red Tornado announces in response to the kissing, and you can’t hold back your snort.
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THE WATCHTOWER January 1st, 00:42 EST
It took some time, but eventually the Leaguer’s began to wake up, and slolwy they all arrived back in the entry deck.
“Everything I thought I knew about myself was a lie. I'm not a hero or a sidekick. I'm a traitor, a pawn,” Roy’s tone was low, dejected, in a way you’re not sure you’d ever heard it.
Dinah reaches out, placing a hand on his arm, “Roy, it'll be all-”
You wince when you watch Roy pull back from her. Bitting too far into your lip and tasting blood.
“I'm not Roy! I don't know what I am. All I know is I need to find the real Roy. I need to rescue Speedy,” he counters.
You’d been too anxious to sit when everyone else had. electing instead to stand across the table from Roy while Ollie and Dinah took the seats on either side of him.
“We’ll help you. The team I mean. And if not, then I will. We’ll find him,” you cut in, licking over your split lip.
“Guardian is already searching Cadmus,” Batman add, reassuringly.
Ollie had been unusually quiet.
“We should take Ro- Red Arrow, home, at least, for now,” Dinah decides.
You caught her slip up, everyone at the table probably did, but no one commented.
“Of course, all four of you can go,” Batman nods.
You catch the tonal shift, and you hesitate.
You’re not sure you would’ve noticed it if not for the rest of your abilities, but you know there’s something else.
“I’d like to stay,” you announce and everyone turns to you. “Just for a bit,” you backtrack, “I want to make sure the Team’s set, and I need to speak with Aquaman about how we deconstructed the chips,” you expound.
Roy looks like he wants to bolt, not that you balme him.
Ollie’s holding himself stiffly.
Dinah looks a little queasy at leaving you here on your own.
“I’ll be fine,” you reassure them.
“I’ll escort her, to Arthur, and then back to the Zeta’s,” Batman offers, and you notice as Dinah realxes, but only a little.
“Not too long,” she adds, though it’s perfunctory, you can tell.
“Promise,” you nod.
She smiles once more at you, weak and strained, before she and Ollie take Roy toward the Zeta’s
You wait until they’re through before you turn back to Batman. Robin and Kaldur had taken the seat on either side of him, and the four of you were the only ones left in the room.
Your hands land on the table with a loud smack that echoes thorough the room, and all three sets of eyes shift to you.
Yours, however, are focused on Batman, “Something else is wrong,” you say.
You’re not asking, you’re not, because you know.
Batman hesitates, looking to Robin for a second before turning back to you, and then nodding.
“The entire League was under Savage's spell for just over a day,” Robin begins, sharing a holoscreen with you. “We've accounted for most of that time. But these six went missing for a full 16 hours we can't account for.”
You stare at the screen. Batman, Superman, Green Lantern; John Stewart, Hawkwoman, Wonder Woman, and Martian Manhinter.
Powerhouses, all six. Each in their own right, different skills, different tactics. It’s terrifying to think what they could have accomplished for Klarion and Vandal Savage in sixteen hours, the implications were limitless.
“Sixteen hours,” Batman repeats, “what did we do?”
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STAR CITY January 1st, 02:04 EST
It’s another hour or so by the time you make it back to Star City. You’d talked with King Arthur, shared with him how you and Kaldur had gone to Atlantis, and that Queen Meera had been appraised. And then you’d circled back to the cave to shower and change.
It’s two in the morning when you make it home, and frankly, you’re surprised to see Roy still up.
Dinah and Ollie weren’t around so you assumed they’d gone to bed. They probably thought he had too.
“Hey,” you greet lamely.
“Hi,” is all he offers back.
You drop your gym bag down by the door, and replace the lock before walking over to the sofa. You drop down beside Roy, but you leave a healthy space, not wanting to crowd him. You turn, tucking one leg under you, so that you can face him better.
“I know it’s a stupid question, but I’m going to ask anyways,” you begin, but he doesn’t look at you, focused instead on something just past your head. “How are you?”
He lets out a snort, but it’s dry, and sad, and you can hear it for what the answer it offers. Stupid question.
“I don’t know…” he says after a minute of silence. “But… I don’t really know anything anymore,” he adds on.
You bite on your lip again, wincing when your teeth make contact with the split lip you’d forgotten about.
“Fair,” you offer, agreeing.
“It’s fine,” he huffs, shrugging you off.
Your eyes narrow at that, it was a lot of things, fine isn’t one of them.
“Roy-”
“Don’t call me that!” he hisses, and you pause.
“Okay,” you concede, swallowing thickly. “What should I call you?” you prompt instead.
“I- I.. I don’t know, just.. I’m not Roy Harper, I’m not!” the last words come out as a sob, and you flick the piece of you that wants to give him space the recesses of your mind, scooting closer and wrapping an arm around his middle the best you can.
“How about Red, at least until we figure it all out?” you offer instead.
“Stop,” he cries. “Stop being nice, and understanding, I replaced him!” Roy’s voice is low, and sad, and you know he wants to make his point, but seems not to want to wake up Dinah or Ollie.
“She’s asleep so I’m going to say the bad words she tries to keep me from using,” you begin, delighted when it gets a wet snort out of the redhead. “But fuck that,” you say seriously, and he snorts again.
Finally turning to look at you, though he’s stuck with it, seeing as you’re practically pressing into his side.
“Look, I’m not blaming Ollie but I’m sure as shit not blaming you either. And I think it’s okay to acknowledge the fact that what you went through in the last few days has been harsh. That it was thirty-one flavors of traumatizing. God, Red! I’d be a fucking mess if it were Dinah coming after me, but it’s not your fucking fault or theirs!” you huff out.
“You owe Dinah at least $20, for just the last minute alone,” is all he says in response.
You scoff.
“Look, Roy or not, you’re my brother too. You have been for the last three years, and just because you’re a clone, it doesn’t make it less true,” you say seriously, and he goes quiet.
You let out a long sigh.
“You should get some sleep, tomorrow’s gonna be a long day,” you finally offer after the silence stretches.
“Yeah,” he huffs, standing up.
You stand after him, tugging him into a tight hug, that he doesn’t seem sure of how to respond to.
“Goodnight, Red,” you say gently.
“Goodnight, (y/n),” he whispers, before peeling you off of him, and walking away.
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STAR CITY January 1st, 10:22 EST
You slept horribly.
The worst ever, actually.
Okay probably not, but it was still pretty bad.
The light at the end of the tunnel where the two hours of no questions you’d managed to wrangle out of Dinah.
You were already in a booth when he walked in.
Sat with your eyes closed, leaning against the linoleum seats, and when the overhead bell of the entry door rings, you blink them open in time to see Dick find you.
You offer him a muted lazy smile, and he gives you one in return.
“Hey,” he greets.
“Hey,” you say, sliding down.
He takes the invitation, settling down beside you instead of across from you.
The two of you fall into a comfortable silence. It seems you both were talked out after the events of the previous day.
Eventually, Mrs. Lenetii brings out a milkshake for you both, cooing over you, before siappearing to take care of another table.
Your head lands on his and his fingers interlace with yours.
“Bad night?” he asks after you’d both been ignoring your milkshakes for too long.
“yeah,” you nod.
“Yeah,” he repeats.
Slowly you lift your head.
You’re close, the two of you. His face is right there, his lips.
He’s staring at you with the wide blue eyes, and you wonder if he’s suddenly as nervous as you were.
You thought of Wally and Artemis at Midnight, of M’gann and Conner, even Rocket. But they were all older. You and Dick were the youngest on the team. It had never felt like it more until right now.
“Um-” he stutters out. “I… uh.. Can I?” he trails off.
“Have you.. ever?” you question back.
Neither of you have moved apart though.
“No,” he admits. “You?”
“No,” you share.
He offers you a shy smile, and it’s the first one in almost forty hours that doesn’t feel strained.
When he tilts down, you move up. There’s no fireworks. And your noes’ bump, and you giggle. And then your teeth clack, and he laughs. It’s awkward and kind of strange, and not at all what the movies make it sound like it’ll be, but it was your first kiss, and it was his too, and it tastes a little like the chocolate and strawberry milkshakes you’d both been sipping on, and all of it together makes it kind of magical in an of itself.
No matter what happened next, what came next, you had Dick, and you knew he had your back.
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everything tags: @butterfly-skinnylegend
dc taglist: @batarella @loninctzencarat @escapenightmare @uh-oh-howd-i-get-here
cnng taglist: @babymango-writes @smile-more19 @bruiscdlikeviolets @truly-dionysus @farfromjustordinary @sometimeseverythingsucks @dweeb-central @lucy-roo @casedoina @cipheress-to-k-pop @anonomano @seninjakitey @whelmedparker @officiallydarkgeek @midnxghtblue @unini @blackwhiteandshadesofgradient @dontmesswithbeebo @raggedyoldwitch @bouqet-of-gay @duckmylife18 @kendallambrosio @notslaybabes @torchbearerkyle @cynthiarose07 @mono--moonchild @emo-space-tea @notsostraightweeb @sassyspanishartist @ahyeonah @acceber1313 @onepieceformeplease @whatislifeandhowdoidoit @luvelyxp @lovelyartemisa @evermoore580 @mischiefmanaged71 @cryingnotcrying @aces-tattooartist @we-flower-fan @awkward-youtube-trash @laurcad123 @sanovr @feverish-dove @lolsnacks
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inc0gnitoo · 3 months ago
Text
repost from ao3- modern au!scara x fem!reader
CW… smut, scara is mean, AFAB reader, phone sex, etc etc..
NSFW UNDER THE CUT
· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·
it almost seemed fucking impossible to you that a day could go this wrong.
it started with the bus this morning. you chose to get up earlier than usual, wanting time to work on your assignment thanks to your procrastinating it til the due date. this wasn’t new for you, and it didn’t bother you either! it worked. it was your system. until you got too caught up with your articles, and when your eyes drifted to the time, you had under 4 minutes to scurry over to your bus stop. and you didn’t even pack your bag yet. rushing out the door, stomach empty and sweat beading down your forehead you ran to the bus and- it was late.
it only got worse from there.
university was a place to be. only good thing it had was food. after your first lecture, you decided to spoil yourself to a bagel which was your second choice on the menu, they ran out of your favourite. begrudgingly, you made your way to class. the people being even more poisoning than the source material. ignorant hallway dwellers, come on, we’re in university people! a classmate took your unassigned-assigned seat, your eye twitching in frustration. and it was only 10am. finally, after a long day of excruciatingly boring classes. you managed to get home, only after getting caught in traffic on the highway. just your luck, you kept saying, your mind twisted with rage.
body filled to the brim with exhaustion, you collapsed to your bed, lazily tossing your bag to the side of your bed with a groan. finally, your bed. tonight was for yourself, you decided. what better to do after a shitty day? you deserved a break, not having any assignments due for a while, you finally had the opportunity to just lay down, and do absolutely nothi-
bzzt.
“mm?” you hummed, peering over to your phone beside you. a text message, from scaramouche. a classmate of yours from highschool who ended up going to the same university as you for a separate major, engineering or something along those lines. raising a brow you leaned over, taking your phone and reading his message.
scara: Didn’t come say hi to me today
scara: Kinda rude, if you ask me
rolling your eyes, you sat up in your bed, clicking on your lamp on your bedside table before typing out a response..
you: i didn’t have a very good day today
you: everything seemed to go wrong
scaramouche, at home, let out a hum of agreement at your reply. he knew that feeling all too well. especially when it came to people. they made him so sick, he didn’t know why he even bothered on taking this degree.
scara: Mm, I see
scara: Wanna call and talk about it?
heart warmed as his request, you stared at it for a moment. you were really just going to stay alone tonight, play some games or something, occupy yourself in other ways that didn’t involve people but.. it was scara. he knew better than most people how frustrating life can get. and he’d listen too, maybe with a grumble or two. or a rant about humanity, but, he’d hear you out after a few.. maybe, rude comments.
you: give me 1 sec
getting up you turned off the big light, not understanding why you’d punished yourself by keeping it on in the first place, especially with your lamp on. now, your room had a warmer atmosphere, more comfy, and overall more relaxing. turning on your humidifier you let out a sigh of contentment, changing into a pair of pyjamas and relaxing yourself back into your bed. taking your phone, you texted scara-
you: ready :P
barely a couple moments go by before your phone begins to vibrate, picking up the phone, “hey.” scaramouche greets you, his voice tired and monotone.
“hi, how was your day? before i start bitching about myself, haha.”
a groan is heard from his side of the phone and a short shuffle through the mic, seemingly from a shifting position, “ugh, long. i’m really starting to get tired of a few of my classmates, such insolent people..” he replied, eyes rolling. you imagined, at least, just from his tone.
“ah, you’re telling me..”
and the monologue began.
you weren’t sure just how long you were talking for or how frustrated you felt about the day. but it felt good getting it off your chest. relieving yourself with a bit of bitching is always the best comfort, you thought. scaramouche on the other hand.. seemed a bit, distracted. it didn’t seem like much to you, him not being as responsive as usual, a bit of a shuffle or two coming from his end, an ‘mm’ of agreement. that wasn’t necessarily off limits when it came to the question of ‘is scara acting weird?’ it was when you began to settle down a bit, your emotions returning back down, your anger beginning to lower that you heard a muffled murmur, almost spoken under his breath, “_____..”
what?
you almost froze in place, pulling the phone closer to your ear in an attempt to hear more but, to no avail. pondering whether or not you should, you spoke, “scara?”
a hurried movement, slightly covering the mic, scaramouche spoke up, “yeah, yeah- i’m here.” he mumbled. physically of course he was, there to listen for her. but mentally, scaramouches mind had travelled to other places. his voice betrayed him in that way, sounding almost strained and the husk of his voice easily portraying just how distracted he was.
innocently, you spoke up, “y-you just.. sound tense, is all. are you alright?”
foolish you were, he thought. such an idiot, not being able to read his tone, understand the shuffling and the movement, the whispery gasps he’d been letting out unintentionally. by god, he was beyond grateful you were this oblivious, the excitement of your cluelessness almost encouraged these bad thoughts to begin with.
“yeah, i-i’m fine.” scaramouche stuttered, “you don’t worry about me..” a few sounds, another heavy breath, “just keep talking all cute like that.”
what..? (again.)
what was happening right now? he had befuddled you, thoughts rolling through your brain attempting (and failing) to find a reason for his odd behaviour. scaramouche was a very, very closed off guy. and not one for compliments. of course, you’d get one from him every once a while, earning a ‘wow, you actually managed to do that,.’ or a ‘yeah, good job.’
but, cute..?
your question left your head, coming out your mouth, “cute?”
a shudder ran down scaramouches body, a bead of sweat, and a wave of warmth down his groin. so stupid, he thought, so so stupid. he loved it, “ah- uh huh.” he affirmed your question, a small curse leaving his breath, a sound of readjustment, switching his phone to another hand.
your brows furrowed, starting to get a little frustrated now, “why are you being so-“
“stop asking so many questions, just fucking talk.”
he bit his lip, a sharp intake of breath before it, sounding restrained and almost.. uncomfortable. you had absolutely no idea the strain he was putting himself through, the cause of all this until-
it clicked.
was he.. masturbating?
“scara, a-are you..?” it was silent for a moment. the only sounds were not just of your own heavy breath, but scaramouches as well, heavy pants that you now realize were not just in your head. these, this time, did not go unnoticed.
finally, after a billowing and agonizing silence, scaramouche breathed in, speaking up..
“yeah..” he exhaled, finally accepting he’d been caught. part of him had a sick obsession with you being as lost as you were, but perhaps your knowledge of him getting himself off to your voice was enough too. if you’d just stay there, keep talking, he wouldn’t be a bother. except he was being a bother, gasping and breathing into your ear like that. over the phone, it almost made it worse.
your mind had begun to drift, and you spoke, softly, “i-i-..”you struggled to form words, a reaction, a response, but he spoke for you.
“cmon… speak up..” scaramouche whispered, breathy, so so breathy. it was almost incoherent from how sharp he was breathing. his hand sped up, you could tell, hearing the shuffling increase over the mic. your heart began to pound.
“do..” hesitating, you bit your lip. was this about to be a huge mistake? “do you want me to help you?”
a groan left his mouth, his head fell back onto his pillow, trying his hardest not to moan instead. “fuck, yes. please.”
nearly choking on your own spit you attempted to speak, placing your hand to your chest to feel your own heartbeat, pounding so hard in your chest. this all felt fake. like, you were about to wake up from some sick fucking fantasy. a dream.
pulse quickening, you parted your lips to speak, “y-you sound so hot right now..”
scaramouches breath hitched, a moan caught in his throat.
okay, maybe he was grateful you figured it out.
his hand pawed at his boxers, finally deciding to tug them off, stroking the tip of his cock. his anticipation was evident in how hard he was, the pre-cum sliding down the sides of his length. how fucking humiliating, he thought. he watched his own hand as he began to stroke himself, thoughts of it being your own. those pretty little hands of yours. the idea in his head had been haunting him. scaramouche was obsessed with you. and had been since highschool. you were so smart, so innocent, and oblivious to him. he swore he was going crazy, when he’d go home, masturbate to the thought of you.
“ohoh, yeah?” scaramouche whispered, his breathing only quickening further as he heard a shift from your end.
that shift.. was you sliding your hand into your shorts, teasing your clit with your fingers through your underwear, almost feeling guilty giving yourself the pleasure of touching it bare. “u-uh huh..” you murmured, shamefully. it was going to eat you alive.
“maybe..” scaramouche begins, his voice mellow and hushed, “maybe i wanna hear you too…” your heart stops, he heard you.
“i know what you're doing right now.”
your hand not daring to stop, even almost speeding up from his tone of voice, the movement was definitely heard over your mic. this made scaramouche smirk, a sigh of satisfaction as he continued.
“tell me, ____. what are you doing to yourself?”
moaning quietly, nervously, with much hesitation and an evident feeling of lust, you managed to speak, “i-i’m.. touching..” you cut yourself off, a whispered gasp as you rubbed at the sensitive nerve, an eye closing from pleasure. scaramouche, what are you doing to me? you kept repeating in your mind. you were a mess because of a fucking voice over the phone. is this how desperate you’ve become?
but it wasn’t just any voice. it was scaramouches. and if he kept talking to you like that you’d listen to it all day.
“yeah? ngh- s-slowly? or fast..?” scaramouche moaned, a bit of a whimper in his throat.
“slowly, slowly..” you echoed yourself, breathing out a held exhale of air, “w-wanna savour this..” admitting to your feelings, you found yourself forming a knot in your groin. this exhale, that erotic breathy noise from you, is enough to earn you a soft moan from scaramouche on the other line.
he stiffened at your words, eyes screwed shut at the image he’d burned into his mind of you. yearning to hear more, he spoke up again, his hand beginning a slow pace as he stroked his cock, “oh, fuck. you wanna savour me..” he grinded his teeth, jaw shifting, “how does that feel, ah? good?” his voice is condescending, low and almost.. degrading, picturing you beneath him as he speaks. believing you as something below him, both physically and sexually.
”ahg-mhm..” you breathlessly agreed, “feels good, scara.” slowly, you overcame that guilt. that fear, it didn’t matter anymore. he wanted this. he wanted you. that thought was enough to allow yourself to feel it too, slipping your hand into your underwear and sliding a finger between your wet folds, a gasp escaping you.
biting his lip so hard he could draw blood, he held back a soft whimper, the sound of his name spoken from your lips like that. it was driving him crazy how the only thing keeping him from you was this damn phone. a short laughter came from him, low and raspy, “nngh, yeah… so good. you sound so good..” he spoke, managing to keep his voice just at a level enough for you to hear him. hear his want. his need for you.
a curse fell out of your lips, “fuck, ah..” drawing a faster circle on your clit, your mind began to slip. slipping to places you wish you were, positions you wish scaramouche was holding you in. what his hand would feel like doing this to you instead. and the lewd noises being caused by him instead, not just you rutting weakly into your own palm. his voice was so hoarse, just a little whiny, sending a rush of blood to your head. he’d have you against the wall, slamming into you from behind-
“god, i’d give anything to be there right now. under my hands, fuck, all the pretty noises you’d make.”
immediately a moan exhaled from your chest, “a-ah, yeah.” you moaned, “want your hands on me..” in your head, they already were! all over you, his mouth too! saying more of those things to you, right in your ear, spoken through hushed whispers and gritting teeth.
scaramouche could feel it in every single bone in his body. every fucking last drop of his blood wanted to hear you scream his name. his grip tightened oh his phone, a scratchy moan coming through the microphone. “ohh..” he laughed breathily, stretching out into a whiny moan as his cock hardened to the touch of his hand, his pace speeding, “you sound so pathetic, such sweet sweet sounds..”
you could hear him, so lewd and filthy, his hips were bucking subconsciously into his own hand. in his mind too, you were there. not just in his ear, “fuck, i bet you look so dirty right now, fucking yourself on your hand.”
“please, scara,” you whined, rolling your hips, causing a muffle over your mic, an irritated groan comes from him. if you’re gonna be doing this, why aren’t you paying attention? he needs to hear every fucking word.
“can’t hear you. louder.”
“scara.” you moaned. god, that voice of yours was intoxicating.
“oh, the way it just rolls off your tongue-ughn..”
scaramouche whimpered, the sounds leaving his lips just above a whimper, words becoming impossible to form. his mind was blanking, fogging with lustful ideas and thoughts, possessed by his craving for you, “are you close? god, tell me you’re close. i can hear it.. the way you’re whining.”
responding with only a moan, your wrist beginning to ache from how vigorously you slid your fingers in and out of yourself, your other beginning to shake while holding your phone to your ear. you didn’t even consider the possibility of moving it away, wanting-no, needing to have his voice right in your ear. more than just in your head. it was here now, he was doing this. with you. just if only he was physically here.. but right now, that didn’t matter.
scaramouches voice alone was bringing you to the edge and he himself knew that too, utilizing his tone in such a way he knew it would tip you over. he wanted you to do this over and over and over, beg him to touch you, to do anything to you, and he’d do that til he was satisfied. maybe he’d even let you touch his cock if you asked nicely. having you do it yourself, instead of his hand.
grunting out a moan, you spoke, “mmfg, yes, scara,” whining, breathing, tears stinging at your eyes, “please-ngh, don’t stop talking.”
“ugh, i-i won’t, won’t-fuck.” forcing more harsh words out of his mouth, scaramouche lets his eyes flutter shut, pumping his cock like it was the last thing he’d ever touch, wishing it was your body instead. he’d be happy dying inside of you. feeling you clenching, tightening around him, grinding down on him in a needy, feverish manner. his grip fastened on his hardness, a guttural moan escaping his lips, “these fucking hands of mine would make you feel so good, ____.”
“y-yes! yes, please! need them so bad, need them instead-ah!” you gasped. now you knew your neighbors would be mad. this apartment was not thick enough for this. imagine if he was in your room now, too. your face pressed into your sheets, fuck, probably against your door knowing him. he wouldn’t give you the chance to lay down. you’d be scraping paint off the wall. and skin off his back. this was too much. all too much. too much too much-
“i’ll have you, ngh- screaming on my cock after this. just you wait-“ interrupting his own monologue with a hoarse moan, his hand pumping a delicious pace on his dick, he threw his head back, “cum, _____. do it already. do it with me.”
almost at his words, treating them like it was an order your body gave out on your, back arching in a cramp inducing position, cumming on your hand just like he instructed. that knot released, sending waves upon waves of a much needed climax, “pleasepleaseplease- scara!”
you were reeling in ecstacy, and from the sounds scaramouche was making, you were sure he was too.
scaramouche found himself reeling on his hand, his orgasm coming just as yours did, throbbing with cum. curses left his mouth, a mess of words and your name and other things you couldn’t pick up over the ringing of your own ears. his hand loosened its grip, weakly falling to his side as he panted almost erratically, a round of silence filling the call with nothing but breathing from both ends. it was scara that spoke first, his voice a bit weak, cracky, “was that good?”
breathing out, struggling to respond, “oh.. oh yeah. for sure.” you affirmed, sliding your hand out of your shorts. the exhaustion returned now, after the pleasure.
as if he sensed it, he spoke up once more.. “don’t get comfortable. i’m coming over.”
…okay. maybe your day didn’t go that wrong.
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varpusvaras · 4 months ago
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Jason is driving when he gets the message.
It's a nifty little system he has added to his helmet. He gets alerts of messages that are high priority, and he gets them played out by the com unit. The message is from Lian, which means it's the highest priority, so Jason lets it play out as he waits at the intersection.
Jay I need help quick please I messed up
Jason had been on his way to pick up some groceries because it's his turn to make dinner, but those can wait now. The lights turn, and he makes his way to the front of the line, threading between cars, and makes a definitely highly illegal U-turn and starts to head back home.
His makes it to the house in record time after probably making half of the city hate motorists with how he had been driving, and he runs inside while still tugging his helmet off.
"Lian?" He calls as he makes his way through the door.
"Here!" She's calling from the bathroom. Jason runs to the door so fast that he overshoots just a little when he tries to stop.
"Are you okay?" He asks. He drops his helmet onto the floor and tries the handle before noticing that she has the door locked. "Are you hurt? Lee?"
"I'm okay", she says, and Jason is a little less panicked now.
"Okay", he breathes. "Can you open the door?"
"Just don't be mad at me?"
Jason doesn't remember ever being mad at Lian.
"I won't", he promises, still. He hears Lian walk up to the door. There's a moment of hesitation, before the lock turns, and the door creaks slowly open.
"What's going on?" Jason asks, turning his head to see inside, and oh.
"Don't be mad." It's more of a demand now than a request, like Lian is challenging him to keep his promise. Jason isn't paying much attention to her words, however, as he is busy staring at her head.
Her head that is full of very blotchy, bleached hair.
"Okay", Jason says. Then he leans against the doorframe and breathes. "Oh my God."
"Are you mad?" Jason breathes again.
"No", he says against the doorframe. "Just please send me a little less of an omnious text next time. I thought you had burned down the house or chopped your fingers off."
"Oh", Lian says, and Jason can hear the grimace in her voice. "Sorry."
"It's fine." Jason deems that his heart rate is calm enough again, and he straightens up. "So what happened here?"
Lian grimaces again.
"I wanted to dye my hair", she says.
"I can see that."
"And since neither you or dad were here, I thought I could do it now, but it's terrible."
"Yeah, it is." Lian sticks her tongue out at Jason for that. "Why didn't you wait for us to be here too?"
Now Lian crinkles her nose in a slightly guilty manner.
"...I didn't want dad to say no?" She offers.
"I don't think he would've", Jason points out. "He's pretty okay with different forms of self-expression."
He is dating Jason, after all. Compared to whatever Jason did as a teenager? Dyed hair is like a newborn baby smacking you.
He kinda understands it, though. He certainly remembers doing things Bruce would've been completely okay with behind his back, especially back when he had first arrived at the Manor. But he had been traumatised and neclegted by parental figures before, and Lian is not.
Maybe it is just something all teenagers go through. In any case, Jason is taking happily taking this over anything else, and he knows that Roy is too.
"You think he isn't going to be mad?" Lian asks. She glances up at her bangs.
"Over some badly bleached hair? No way."
"...I also bleached the sink."
Jason's inner Alfred wants to come out at that, but he pushes it down fast. Not now, Alfred.
"That sink has seen worse things", he says instead. "....listen. I have Bruces credit card with me that can easily pay for that to be fixed and dyed to all of the colors in the rainbow if you so want to. Let's go find a professional."
Lian grins at him, and Jason grins back.
"I only want it to be blue, though", she says.
"Blue it is, then." Jason nods. "Go get your helmet."
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saphronethaleph · 6 months ago
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Legally Mandated Vacation Days
The holoprojector in Palpatine’s private quarters activated, an image shimmering to life, and Palpatine smiled in anticipation of seeing Vader kneeling before him.
That lasted approximately half a second, until he saw the actual image.
“Your Majesty!” an extremely nervous Imperial Navy lieutenant said, saluting. “It’s an honour to-”
“Where is Vader?” Palpatine asked. “This is his personal hologram frequency!”
“Ah… Lord Vader assigned me to take his calls while he was away,” the lieutenant explained. “It’s, ah… an honour to be speaking to you… do you have a message?”
“Away?” Palpatine repeated. “Why is Vader away?”
“I don’t know!” the lieutenant protested. “Your Majesty, I don’t know anything more than what I’ve told you – he just told me to take his calls and said he was using up some annual leave, since he hadn’t taken any since the year one.”
It took Palpatine a fraction of a second to actually calculate what that meant, because replacing the calendar when he came to unquestioned power had been what the youth called ‘a flex’ but it had also caused significant calendrical chaos and he personally still thought in the old system at least half the time.
Eleven years, then. Vader had eleven years of stored up annual leave, and he was choosing to expend some.
“Where did he go?” Palpatine asked.
“I didn’t ask!” the lieutenant replied. “Your Majesty, I didn’t want to die, and also I don’t think I’m allowed to ask anyway…”
Palpatine glowered at the hologram, then untensed.
Marginally.
“Inform Vader that I want to speak to him as soon as possible,” he said, then ended the call before the lieutenant could start fawning again.
“Uncle Owen!” Luke called, running down the steps of the homestead. “Aunt Beru! Someone’s coming!”
“We’d better see what this is about, then,” Owen Lars decided. “Did you recognize them?”
The pre-teen looked thoughtful.
“Don’t think so,” he said. “Whoever it was, they were wearing black. Not sure why.”
“Black robes are just as cool as white,” Beru commented. “I know black gets hotter, but it doesn’t reach the skin.”
Luke frowned.
“It might have been robes,” he said. “Don’t know.”
“Well, let’s see who it is,” Owen decided.
Beru’s gaze darted to where one of their blasters was hidden, as Owen headed up the stairs.
“Oh kriff,” Owen said, in a tiny voice.
Then a black shape, like death, came down the stairs.
The figure in the armoured suit and cloak wasn’t really forcing Owen to retreat, not really.
Not through any physical means, or otherwise.
He was just… walking, and Owen was responding in an instinctive sort of way to get out of the way of Darth Vader, the Emperor’s Enforcer, the sign of death across the whole of the known galaxy.
Upon reaching floor level, Vader examined Beru, then Luke, then the room around them.
“So,” Darth Vader said, in a dread but awkward voice. “How have you been doing?”
It took all those present several seconds to find their voices.
“...what?” Owen asked, eventually.
“I know it has been a while,” Vader went on, then stopped. “…ah, of course. It is unsurprising you fail to recognize me. I… was not wearing this, before.”
“Then who are you?” Beru asked. “You’re acting like you know us, but… you’re Darth Vader.”
“Yes,” Vader agreed. “I… have had a complicated last few months. I ran into someone from my past. We fought. I was seriously injured, and it gave me reason to consider what I have made of my life. About the relatives that I have failed to visit.”
Owen and Beru exchanged glances, then both looked at Luke.
“Are you really Darth Vader?” Luke said, sounding fascinated. “Everyone says you’re really scary, but you’re in our kitchen and I don’t know if that means you’re scary.”
“I am extremely scary,” Vader replied, in tones of either great seriousness or impressive deadpan. “I have killed people for annoying me. I have killed people who did not have the time to annoy me.”
“Did you cut their heads off?” Luke asked, in that way that children can. “I’ve never seen that happen but it sounds like it’d be really messy. There’s two bits of person then.”
Vader made a sound that, charitably, could be interpreted as chuckling.
“It appears I have been remiss in not talking about my work to my step-brother’s child,” he said. “I approve of you, child.”
“Step-brother’s child…” Owen said, then his eyes went wide. “You’re – you’re Anakin!?”
Vader tilted his head slightly. “Who else would I be?”
“I’ve got relatives,” Beru pointed out. “I wouldn’t have thought any of them was Darth Vader, but… we thought Anakin was dead.”
Vader appeared to think about that.
“I can see why you would think that,” he admitted.
“Does that mean you’re my dad?” Luke asked.
Vader did a double take.
“What,” he said.
For a moment, simmering anger filled the room, then it faded away.
“I suppose if you thought that I was dead, then taking in my child would be reasonable,” he conceded. “As my only surviving relatives of any sort.”
“I’ll get some water for us to share?” Beru suggested, falling back on basic hospitality. And on a way to get out of the sight of the others for a minute.
She was going to need to comm Ben Kenobi to stay the absolute kriff away from the homestead for now.
It was at least possible that Vader – Anakin – whichever would be more interested in his very much alive and present son he was reconnecting with than a mention of an absent Kenobi somewhere else on the planet who made Luke toys.
Kenobi here? The fight would destroy the homestead, and that would make it considerably more difficult to keep Luke safe… even with how the difficulty of that had jumped significantly in the last ten minutes.
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little-diable · 1 year ago
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Following Rules - Spencer Reid (smut)
I don't know where this idea came from, but boy do I love this. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: What if JJ had an older daughter? What if Spencer had known said daughter ever since she had been a teenager? What if Spencer no longer remembers the rules he was supposed to follow when (y/n) finally gives in and pulls Spencer close?
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f and m), age gap, mom's best friend situation, teasing
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (3k words)
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If there was one thing Spencer had learned from an early age, it was following rules. Perhaps it wasn’t so much about the rules themselves, about the sometimes random-seeming words that somehow managed to transmit a message burned into his mind from the second the rules were spoken to him, no matter the age. Perhaps it wasn’t so much about how the people teaching him these rules tried to pronounce the important words, underlining the importance of the rules he was supposed to follow. No, it wasn’t about these things, but it was all about Spencer desperately trying to fit in, hoping to blend in with those around him as he remembered sentences that had no real meaning to him.
If there was one thing Spencer was good at, it was remembering everything, from single words, long conversations or the plots of books that had more pages than even some other so-called geniuses could count. He could remember every rule that had been forced into his mind, no matter his age, but fuck, those rules were really testing him whenever he was around her. The girl who was just above twenty-one, the girl he had known since she was a teenager, the girl who called his best friend “Mom”. 
“C’mon, (y/n), please. It’s just one night.” JJ’s sigh echoed through the living room, hands placed on her waist, eyes staring her daughter down. (Y/n) was sitting next to Spencer, eyes flickering up from the book she was reading, barely listening to the words her mother had spoken.
“I have a test next week, I need to concentrate and not babysit Henry. Why don’t you ask Penelope?” Before JJ could reply, eyes momentarily fluttering close to give in to the inner battle she was fighting – torn between being proud of her daughter for her academic success and the annoyance (y/n)’s determination pushed through her – Spencer spoke up, forcing all eyes towards him. 
“I am free, I can totally look after Henry while (y/n) studies for her test.” The softness of Spencer’s voice momentarily distracted (y/n) from the way her heart began to speed up whenever he was close to her, wearing that smile that could melt her from the inside out, paired with the glistening pupils she saw whenever her eyes fluttered close.
(Y/n) was anything but proud to admit the way she had been crushing on Spencer for the past years. Once a harmless crush she had tried to accept when she was a teenager, it had escalated into something deeper, something more sincere the older she got. Deep down she tried to accept that this wouldn’t ever be more than a crush, a one-sided one that is, and yet she wasn’t ready to shake those feelings just yet, clinging to the thin thread as if it was her lifeline, saving her from drowning. 
“You don’t have to, Spence. I know how much you enjoy your Saturday evenings.” (Y/n) tried to stop her eyes from rolling, not wanting to give her emotions too much room as she was surrounded by two profilers, but the small bits of annoyance filling her whenever her mother looked at Spencer with those big eyes of hers were hard to shake. She wouldn't be surprised if her mother had some feelings for Spencer, leaving (y/n) with a bitter taste on her tongue.
“Oh, no, I’d love to do it. And I can even help (y/n) with studying.” Their eyes met for a few seconds, seconds that felt like hours, forcing heat to rise in her system. “Not like she needs any of my help, but who knows, maybe I’ll get the chance to learn something new from her. So it’s a win-win situation for us all, I’d say?”
……
Music rang in her ears, eyes focused on her notes, trying not to give in to the distraction silently calling for her, luring her eyes towards Spencer’s frame. A sigh wanted to leave (y/n), cursing herself for giving in all too easily, not used to being around Spencer without her mother or any other member of the BAU around. Fuck, she’d need to get a grip before one of them could see through her lies, all too aware of her crush on Spencer. 
“I think it’s almost dinner time. Do you want to eat with Henry and me?” Spencer’s soft voice drew a smile onto (y/n)’s lips, clearing her throat as she tried to shake her sinful thoughts. 
“Uhm, sure. I think Mom prepared something for us.” She felt his eyes on her frame, watching (y/n) make her way towards the fridge, reaching for the containers filled with food. The sound of his Converse meeting the ground filled the momentary silence, coming to a halt next to (y/n) to help her fill their plates, standing way too close. 
“How’s studying going? Do you need any help?” Heat rose to her face, eyes forced to concentrate on the food rather than the unmistakable grin tugging on Spencer’s lips. For a moment (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder if he was aware of the buzzing atmosphere, of the way he made her feel something she had only read about in books so far. 
“It’s going okay. Maybe you can quiz me later, once Henry’s in bed?” God, she was digging her own grave, a grave so deep she’d never be able to escape. Just the mere thought of spending any more time with Spencer, without her little brother near, left her shuddering in excitement. 
“Absolutely, whatever you need, (y/n), I’m here for you.” 
Fuck, if it was only that simple.
……
“I knew you wouldn’t need any of my help, you’re acing it!” A proud grin tugged on her lips as she sunk further into the couch, feet finding Spencer's lap before she could even think about what she was doing. But while (y/n) was panicking inside, debating pulling her feet back, Spencer didn’t seem to mind the contact, hand finding her right foot without taking his eyes off the sheet he was using to quiz her.
“Alright, two more. Name me some sources for Shakespeare's Macbeth.” With a hum leaving (y/n), she tried to focus on the question, yet barely able to do so as Spencer’s hand began to move up from her foot to her shin, absentmindedly stroking her skin. Goosebumps covered her body, growing more and more with every passing second. 
“Uhm,” her eyes fluttered close, hoping to collect herself. “Bits from the Daemonologie of King James, several tales in Holinshed's Chronicles, and parts of Hector Boece’s book Historia Gentis Scotorum.”
“Good girl.” The praise was spoken all too softy, yet loud enough to force her eyes open, finding his darkening ones within seconds. Spencer was looking at her with something unreadable swimming in his pupils, something that seemed to call her name, begging (y/n) to move closer, to find her way to him with her gaze set on his lips. But she didn’t try to move, not daring to give in first. “Last question, finish the following quote: Was the hope drunk-”
“Wherein you dressed yourself? Hath it slept since? And wakes it now to look so green and pale, at what it did so freely?” Spencer hummed as (y/n) finished the first parts from Lady Macbeth’s monologue, unable to meet his eyes. She felt him shift, watched him place the sheet down before he turned back towards her. 
“From this time such I account thy love. Art thou afeared to be the same in thine own act and valour, as thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that which thou esteem’st the ornament of life, and live a coward in thine own esteem, letting ‘I dare not’, wait upon ‘I would’, like the poor cat i’th’ adage?” Spencer’s words rang in (y/n)’s ears, eyes focused on his wandering hand, moving up her leg till it found her trembling fingers. Their eyes met, wordlessly communicating, forcing her to shift her weight, slowly sitting up.
“You know, if there’s one thing my time at the BAU has taught me, it’s seizing every chance, even if you’re held back by rules you are supposed to follow, if it’s something your heart desires. I’m tired of fighting this, (y/n).” Spencer whispered his words, words that forced a grin onto (y/n)’s lip, barely believing her luck. Perhaps it was the warmth his words pushed through her body, perhaps it was the excitement his words made her feel, whatever it was that guided her on, it forced her to press her lips against Spencer’s before either of them could overthink this very situation. 
Within seconds she found herself in Spencer’s lap, thighs placed on either side of his, squeezing them. A moan clawed through the both of them in unison, tongues meeting as their hands started wandering. (Y/n)’s fingers tugged on Spencer’s curls, forcing the man to groan against her mouth as his hands found her behind, squeezing the soft flesh through the thin fabric of her leggings. 
“Spencer,” she hummed his name, fingers moving down to his chest, toying with his sweater, desperate to get it off him. “I need you, I want you, all of you."
“You have me, pretty girl, I’m all yours.” A smile widened on (y/n)’s lips as she kissed him again, shifting her weight further against him. The deep groan that left Spencer as her core met his hardening cock made her feel as if she was on fire, needing to feel more of it.
“Bedroom?” All Spencer could do was whisper the word, not trusting his voice, trying to hold back before he’d fuck her ruthlessly on the couch. Wordlessly she guided Spencer to her room, pulling her shirt over her head before he could get his hands on her. The sight left Spencer moaning, teeth nibbling on his lower lip, “You’re so beautiful, more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.”
“Onto your knees, be a good girl for me.” The shift of his voice, now dripping with dominance, made her walls clench around nothing, watching him plop down near the edge of her bed. She sank to her knees close to him, eyes following his long fingers, watching how they undid his trousers, how they freed his cock.
This moment had something so intimate to it, (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder why they hadn’t done this much sooner. For a second, she was forced to think of her mother, wondering how she’d react to knowing that Spencer was about to fuck her daughter, thoughts that were swallowed the second (y/n)’s gaze found Spencer’s twitching cock.
“C’mon, open that pretty mouth of yours for me.” Wordlessly she followed his command, eyes rolling back into her head as he forced her lips apart with the red tip of his cock. Groans clawed through Spencer as her tongue explored the parts he had pushed into her mouth, tasting him, feeling him, hoping that she’d never forget this very moment again. “Tap my thigh two times if this is too much for you, sweetheart.”
She hummed around him, choking on her breath as Spencer forced himself deeper down her throat. (Y/n) gagged around him, tears were instantly dripping from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks one by one, but she didn’t dare pull back, wanting to make Spencer proud. He fucked her mouth slowly, trying to keep his moans from growing any louder, not daring to attract any unwanted attention. 
“You’re taking me as if you were made for me, such a good girl for me.” His praises left (y/n) moaning around his cock, trying to keep her hands from wandering, needing to take care of the heat growing between her thighs. Spencer could tell how needy she was, how much she wanted to feel his hands on her – a sight that only spurred him on. She was at his mercy, would follow his every command, like  his own toy to use, to own, to love. 
“I want you to swallow for me, can you do that, pretty girl?” Their eyes met, his blown wide from the lust thumping through his veins, hers glassy from the tears that kept on rolling. She tried to nod, tried to move her head, though without any luck, Spencer’s cock was too deep down her throat, forcing her to hold still. Her hands pumped the parts he didn’t force down her throat, adding more friction to the way he fucked her mouth.
He twitched against her tongue, about to cum down her throat, letting go with a silent groan. (Y/n) watched his head roll back, eyes fluttering close, lips parted – a sight she’d take to grave with her. She swallowed every drop he offered her, groaning at the salty taste, hoping that this wouldn’t be the last time he fucked her mouth, the last time she got to taste him. 
“Take your clothes off and get onto the bed, sweetheart.” Spencer’s gaze burned straight through her, watching her shuffle out of her sweatpants, panties and bra, bare in front of him. The mere sight of (y/n), naked for him, was enough to leave his cock twitching once again, already begging to feel her around him. 
Their eyes held contact as Spencer stepped closer, quickly undressing himself before he rested between her thighs. He pulled her in for a teeth-clashing kiss, hovering over her with his hands exploring her naked body, cupping her breasts, pinching her hardening nipples before they found her dripping core. 
“Oh god, feels so good, Spence.” She whispered her words, eyes fluttering close as she felt his warm breath clashing against her soft skin, tongue darting out to run along her folds, tasting her arousal. Spencer took his time with exploring her cunt, thumb rubbing her pulsing bundle as he dipped his tongue into her tightness.
(Y/n) choked on her moans, having to cover her mouth to try and stop her sounds from clawing through her too loudly. He studied her with mischief swimming in his pupils, set on making her thrash around beneath him, body shaking from the first of many orgasms he’d push through her.
His thumb picked up its speed as he pushed two fingers into her, instantly finding her swollen spot, close to making her cum right there. Soft praises left him, praises she couldn’t pick up on, already too far gone, about to cum for him. Her teeth drew blood from her lip, biting into the soft flesh all too forcefully to try and keep her sounds bottled in.
“Cum for me, pretty girl, let go.” Spencer’s words seemed to push her over the edge, holding her close as if he was scared she’d disappear right in front of his eyes, not daring to ever let her out of his sight again. His fingers fucked her through her high, marvelling at (y/n) and her pleasure-drunken features. “You did so well for me, so well.”
“Spence,” (y/n) murmured his name with her voice raspy and exhausted, yet dripping with anticipation. “Fuck me, I need you inside of me.”
“Are you sure?” His hands found her chin, forcing (y/n) to get lost in his pupils, struggling to reply. A soft “Yes” rolled off her tongue, momentarily pushing him away to reach for her nightstand, placing a condom in his hand. They kept holding eye contact as Spencer rolled the condom down his hard cock, as he positioned himself near her entrance, and as he pushed into her all too slowly. 
“Fuck, you’re so tight.” His curses left her clenching around him, needing to deeply exhale as she tried to adjust to his size. Spencer watched her intently, not daring to move before she quietly whimpered his name, telling him to fuck her. He took his time, wanting to properly enjoy this very moment, feeling her walls flutter around him with every thrust.
(Y/n)’s moans guided him on, eyes staring up at Spencer, at the concentration tugging on his features, on the way his tongue kissed his teeth, on the way his eyes swam with a mixture of love and lust. His name rolled off her tongue every now and then, a mere whisper made for his ears only, a confession that weighed all too heavily, a confession that left both their hearts racing in excitement. 
He fucked her faster with every passing second, holding onto the headrest of her bed to try and stop himself from properly destroying her, not wanting to mark her up on their first night together. And even though Spencer tried to control himself, wanting to properly concentrate on (y/n), she couldn’t help but beg for more, letting go of a “Please” every now and then, luring Spencer further into the darkness calling his name.
“Touch yourself for me, pretty, make yourself cum on my cock.” Their eyes kept meeting, watching one another as her fingers circled her overstimulated clit, drawing a few more moans from her slightly parted lips. Spencer knew that he’d never forget this moment, the way she looked so perfectly buried beneath him, made for him only. 
“I’m close, Spence, need to cum, please.” Her words drew a “Fuck” from Spencer, knowing that he was just as close as she was. With a small “Cum” leaving Spencer, she let go, choking on her gasps with her eyes closed and her head thrown back. He kept on fucking her, high on the feeling of her, on the way she called his name, on the way she was his only.
Spencer let go a few seconds later, burying his face in the crook of (y/n)’s neck, silencing his sounds. For some moments they were engulfed by a thick blanket of silence, with only their moans echoing through the night, filling her room over and over again. Only as Spencer pulled away, throwing away the condom, did she dare to find her voice again.
“Spence,” the call of his name left him smiling, finding his way back to (y/n)’s bed. “Don’t leave just yet.” 
“I’ll stay right here with you, promise, but I’ll be gone before your mom comes home, we can’t risk anything.”
Perhaps breaking rules had some perks to it after all. Perhaps breaking rules wasn’t as awful as people have always told Spencer.
973 notes · View notes
moonlight-records · 1 year ago
Text
IOU | OP81
pairing: ghostface!oscar x ghostface!reader
summary: reader & oscar are best friends but reader would love to get a shot with ghostface. what they don’t know is that their chances are closer than they think…
warnings: [DARK THEMES USED & SMUT] slightly descriptive murder, mention of stalking stalking, mention of blood, breath play, public sex, oral sex (m receiving), dry humping, dom!oscar, sub!reader, degradation, hair pulling (if you squint??), face fucking, deep throating
a/n: once again, dark themes used! please read the warnings above!!! i answered a asked on my main here and decided to make a oneshot of it (yes i quote J's ask cause it was too good). tbh didn't even plan for a plot but here we are! I know my answer and this are vastly different...i don't wanna talk about it. also ghostface!oscar series belongs to @piastrification so homie this one is for YOU!! Also happy belated Valentines day omg. Hope you enjoy 🫶🏽
word count: 4.5K
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This week has started out to be one of the worst weeks you’ve had in a very long time. Monday started off with your car breaking down on the way to campus and you completely missed your first class. When you got to campus an irritated Oscar was waiting asking why the hell you didn’t call him. “Even though I was in class, I would’ve left and gotten you,” he told you. You weren’t in the mood to argue so you just apologized and told him you’d call him next time which seemed to ease his irritation slightly. Seemed he also had a pretty shitty Monday.
Tuesday brought your shitty manager everyone hates at your job to end a relatively quiet day. It was the typical bullshit but still didn’t mean you had to enjoy it. You spent the whole drive home on the phone with Oscar screaming your head off about all the things your manager had done. The micro-managing of your work, the snarky remarks, the extra work so he can just fuck off in the back, god you could not stand this manager at all. Oscar listened like he always did. “You don’t deserve that,” you could hear the frown in his voice, “honestly he shouldn’t even be a manager. I could take care of him for you.” You laughed. You thanked Oscar for the offer but you had already decided that your manager would be your next victim. It would be tricky considering everyone in the store knew how much you two despised each other but it would get done.
You ended up with a stomach bug on Wednesday. You woke up around four in the morning with a jump and just made it to the bathroom before you got sick. You stayed in there for a good hour before there was nothing left in your system and you dragged yourself back to bed. You somehow coherently managed to message your professors you’d be missing class due to illness and texted Oscar that you’d be out sick today before promptly falling asleep. You woke to a knock on your front door and dragged yourself out of bed. You made a face seeing Oscar standing outside with a bag. “What are you doing?” You ask.
“Taking care of you. Can I come in?”
“What if you catch it? What about classes?”
You watch Oscar simply pull a KN95 mask out of his pocket. You narrowed your eyes as he slipped it on. You didn’t need to see his face to see the cheeky smile he was giving. His eyes twinkled slightly with humor as he gently turned you around and guided you back inside your place as he listed the things he brought over and how he can afford missing one day to make sure you eat and rest, a habit you tend to struggle with. He really was a good best friend.
Thursday is really when you hit your limit. Arriving on campus you and Oscar head to class though neither of you really paid attention. You two spent most of the time texting each other even though you guys were sitting right next to each other. When class ended the two of you headed to the closest campus cafeteria before parting ways. You got on the line to grab the food while Oscar secured you two seats since it was roughly lunch time and everyone would be out and about.
Carrying the two to-go containers after paying you make your way to the back left corner. It’s usually where you and Oscar sat and enjoyed just people watching and gossiping about other students but you slowed your walking. Oscar was looking up at someone. Fucking Brittany. One of the sororities girls. Sorority president actually. Brittany was in a nice blouse, a skirt, some fucking heeled boots. Her blonde hair was thrown up into a messy bun and she was leaning forward slightly while smiling wide at Oscar.
Jealousy hit you like a truck. You grip the to-go containers tighter while standing frozen in your spot watching them. You wanted to march over and tell her to fuck off. Grab your stupid bun and slam her head into the table until she’s bleeding out. Or maybe take the plastic forks that rested on top of the to-go containers and gauge her eyes out for having the audacity to even look at Oscar. Alas, you refrained from it all. Instead you just tilted your chin up and made your way over with a tight smile. “I’m back!” You announce to Oscar. The both turn to face you and Oscar visibly relaxes slightly but Brittany is giving you a once over clearly unimpressed. You turn and blink, feigning surprise. “Oh! Brittany. Hi,” you keep your tone light and friendly, “what brings you here?”
“Oh, I was just talking to Oscar,” Brittany smiles, “we’re partners for our history project.” You could give two shits less what it was as you spy Brittany’s hand moving to Oscar’s upper arm and resting there with ease. Something so subtle but could come off as flirty and you wanted to cut her hand off. How dare she think she can touch Oscar like that? “…and wanted to see if he wanted to come to the frat party Saturday night,” she concludes.
“Oh, isn’t that sweet of you. Can he bring a plus one?” You ask putting the containers down, sliding one over to Oscar.
“If he wants…” Brittany glances at Oscar with a smile then back at you, “but we need to know to make sure they’re on the list. Even then…it depends on the mood if everyone gets in.”
“Then it seems kinda stupid for a list, don’t you think so?” Oscar asks finally. Brittany laughs. It wasn’t even that funny. You realize now that she’s flirting with Oscar. Well. This just won’t do. Not like you care anyway. Oscar is your best friend. Sure you love him but it’s platonic -or so you tell yourself- so it shouldn’t bother you but it does. It does bother you because Brittany was the queen heartbreaker. She used guys until she got bored. Until they got attached and couldn’t offer anything else after giving her everything. You were not about to have Oscar be a pawn in her fucking game. You had missed the remark Brittany gave as you sat down, your heart pounding in your ears.
“…let me know!” Brittany calls out as she’s already walking away.
“Ugh. As if,” Oscar murmurs and turns his attention to you. “Hey,” he starts softly. Bring your gaze to him and you blink, “you okay?”
“Yeah,” you manage a smile, “I’m fine. Did you see the shoes she was wearing?” You ask to divert the subject as now you might have something fun to do this weekend.
* * *
Personally, you never understood the hype of sororities and managed to curb every single one who tried to recruit you. It was just a bunch of girls with money and tried to make it sound like it wasn’t a cult but it most certainly was if you got in. Moving into the house, what they expected you to wear, how to act in public, who can and cannot date, for fuck sakes they monitored your social media post and if they didn’t approve of something you posted they would either make you take it down or probably kick you out. You much preferred your freedom over dealing with that bullshit.
Luck had shined down on you when you heard some of the girls mention Brittany couldn’t go to the bar tonight because she was under the weather and just ‘had to get better for tomorrow in case her special guest came’. It was a miracle that you didn’t march over here and slaughter Brittany right then and there but you bide your time. You had to be careful.
Now, slipping the mask on, you give it a five minutes after everyone else leaves before slipping through the back door. Standing quietly, you listen to the water running and slowly making your way through the house. Climbing the stairs you follow the noise until you’re outside the bathroom. You hear Brittany singing and you silently open the door. Steam hits your face and it takes everything not to cough from the sudden heat. Stepping in you watch Brittany’s silhouette run her fingers through her hair. Gripping the hilt of your knife, you inch forward. When Brittany turns you stab the knife through the shower curtain and straight in her heart. Twisting, you step forward until Brittany is pinned against the wall as she weakly has a hold of your wrist trying to pull the knife out her screams being drowned out by the shower and her choking on her own blood. You pull out before stabbing again to ensure that there was no chance she would be able to survive. When her attempts falter, you pull the knife out. Cleaning the knife off, you slip out of the house the way you came smirking knowing the rest of them wouldn’t have hot water for a long time.
Carefully you pack everything into your backpack you left in the woods by the house before securely zipping it. Slinging a strap over your shoulder, you start to head back to your apartment. You emerge from the treeline right into an alleyway and into town which is bustling with college kids. Perks of living in a college town. You just turn left and make your way back to your apartment which is a bit further uptown and you notice as the people start to thin out.
You feel eyes burning into the back of your skull. Turning your head over your shoulder, you stop. At the end of the block you see a figure in all black and an identical mask standing there. Normal people would do anything but stare. Call out to the figure, turn away and walk, call the police, something except just stand there silently and face off with this killer. Copycat killer that is. You suppose you’d have fans, sick and twisted probably, but you didn’t expect you’d end up creating a copycat killer. Not that you minded, actually the gesture touched you actually. People had been too stupid to realize it was a copycat but not you.
After all, their first kill happened to be one of your best friends you recently dropped.
You can’t even remember why but you arrived to apologize and found her body on the floor, throat cut. It was a bit messy. The cut wasn’t as clean as you would’ve expected and there was blood everywhere. Even on the poor bitch’s hands. Then you realize that there’s a few stab wounds. Seemed she put up a fight before whoever did it got the kill. Then someone clears their throat and you raise your gaze.
There you saw him.
An identical ghostface mask, black long sleeve shirt, jeans, and sneakers. Personally you preferred boots but to each their own. As much as some little sane part in your head told you to stop judging this person’s choice in shoes and run, you stood there staring because god he was so *distracting*. Honestly, the tight fit long sleeve should be illegal for killers to wear. It clung to him defining each curve of his muscle and you couldn’t help but get turned on because well–they’re a well fit masked killer.
“Did you do this?”
The killer nodded. Silence fell upon the two of you before you finally asked, “why?”
“...Why?” The voice asked. A shiver ran down your spine hearing the low murmur. A voice modulator just like you. Smart and well fit? Shit, “that’s all you can ask? Why? Aren’t you supposed to be running and screaming?”
“Well I find that a bit stupid,” you retort, “you’re right here. Masked or not, you're taller. You have length compared to my short legs. I might have you in agility and you’re a bit messy with your killing. Shaky in the hands.” You tilt your head to the masked figure with a small smirk. You watch the figure tighten his grip on the hilt of the knife before he’s in front of you in about four steps. You gasp as your head is yanked back by your hair, knife against your throat.
“Are you asking to be killed right now?”
“I mean you gonna fuck me before you kill me?”
Ghostface reels their head back slightly. Stupidly, they loosen their grip from the shock. Taking your chance, you grab the first with the knife and twist it away from you. They shout out in pain as you get your hair free and release their wrist before kicking the figure harshly in the stomach. You step on the figure’s chest a bit harshly. Smirking down at him, “expect the unexpected sweetheart. But you never answered me. Why?”
You can hear something faintly. You cannot believe this guy is mumbling. Leaning down slightly, you turn your ear, “I can’t hear you,” you tease.
“I did it for you.”
Now you’re stunned. You lean back slightly, hand over your heart. You don’t dare move though. You expect it to be some sick joke but the laughter never came. You bite your bottom lip having half the mind to suck him off right then and there. You stay strong though. Instead, you move to stand over the figure and bend down and hook a finger under his mask. His hand flies to your wrist and you laugh.
“I’m not gonna take your mask off,” you explain, “Trust me. Right now I am getting extremely horny and I don’t think I can handle you being ugly under the mask. Would just completely kill the mood.” You laugh hearing the figure let out an offended noise, “but aren’t you sweet,” you tilt your finger up and the figure follows, lifting his chin, “don’t be a stranger, yeah? Now, you should get off so I can feign the heartbroken emotional ex- best friend.”
Ghostface is in front of you now. He’s got your chin between his thumb and finger staring down at you and you blink as you come out of your memory. He’s close and you can hear his soft breathing which forces your own breath to hitch. You curl and uncurl your fingers and you hear a small huff behind the mask accompanied by a smirk you assume. “My,” he murmurs softly, “what do we have here. You shouldn’t be walking alone at night like this little one. You never know what lurks in the dark.”
You take a deep breath to keep your voice even. Pressing your thighs together you try so hard to stop the heat that’s starting to spread through your body. You should not be getting this turned on but how could you not? You had a copycat killer who kept killing people that you had issues with somehow and someway. “I–” You start, biting your bottom lip trying to find the words but you’re cut off with a chuckle.
“You’re so worked up for me. I can see it in the clench of your legs, the flush on your cheeks, the way your pupils dilate and the way you bite your lip for me. You don’t even know who I am. I could be a total stranger, who followed you home one night and just never stopped, but I could also be your best friend, that you’ve known for years, who you think you know like the back of your hand. You don’t even know. But I know one thing for certain though- I’m sure your panties, if you’re even fucking wearing any, are already soaked.”
You hate the fact he’s right. Your breathing slightly heavy as your eyes widen as you listen. Shifting, you clench your thighs even tighter as one of your hands slips between your thighs slightly. You can’t see his eyes but you can feel his stare bruning into yours and you actually look away. This hasn’t happened before.
“Look. At. Me.”
Your eyes snap back and your mouth hangs open slightly. You can feel how wet you are every time you shift and by god do you need something here. “What do you want, love?”
“I would very much like to take you up on that offer and suck you off,” you nod your head in the direction of the alleyway.
“Excited, aren’t we?”
“We’ve been at this for months of fucking course I’m excited.”
He grips your jaw tightly, “I’d watch that tone if I were you. I can happily just walk away and leave you here alone.” Your eyes travel downwards and spy his half hard bulge against his jeans and then back up, “I can handle myself and sleep much more satisfied than you probably would with your fingers,” leaning close to your ear, “but I’d be a fool to leave you so desperate without giving you a taste.” Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head but he lets go of your jaw and spins you around, smacking your ass. You startled with a yelp before quickly scurrying to the alleyway.
Any sane person, seeing the alleyway lead to the woods, probably would have taken the chance to run but not you. You were so desperate to finally fuck this copy cat that you spun around as he rounded the corner. You gasped as your back slams against the brick wall feeling pain through your shoulder for only a brief moment as your hands fly to Ghostface’s wrist as he holds you there by your throat. Oddly enough your calm even though he could easily choke you as your breathing becomes a bit more jaded. Lifting his mask slightly you stare at the slightly chapped but pink lips as you drop your bag. They look so familiar, why?
You can’t really think longer on it as he moves his hand up to your jaw tightly and his lips are on your neck as you gasp for air. He wedges his knee between your legs and immediately you roll your hips whining loudly. You let your eyes drift close as the figure litters your neck in kisses along with marks. You let the figure tilt your head so he can litter the otherside in matching marks. Your nails dig into his wrist earning a hiss against your neck. When he pulls back your eyes stare at his lips and you’re so tempted for a taste. You find yourself starting to lean in before he’s pushing you onto your knees. Blinking, you're now eye level with his obvious bulge and glance up at him fixing his mask.
Dropping your gaze, your hands get straight to work. Undoing his jeans you pull the zipper down before pulling his pants down just enough. You hold your breath seeing the outline of his cock because oh it looks so much bigger than you’ve had which…was very few. There was only one way to really find the truth. You let your fingers dance across the waistband of his boxers before you tug, cock basically popping free. You lean back with wide eyes because it is bigger than you’ve had. It’s actually the biggest you’ve ever had. The length was maybe just an inch or two over average which was impressive enough but it was the girth that really made your mouth water and the precum leaking out just makes you drool.
Gently wrapping a hand around his cock, the figure’s breath hitches as he bucks his hip. You give a few experimental tugs not really for a reaction but more so to get a feel of him in your hand. Big. Girthy. Heavy. God, how pent up was he? You feel fingers through your head as you continue to cautiously jerk him off before licking the tip. The reaction pulled out of the figure was a low satisfied groan and it encourages you to take the tip of his cock into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the tip before sucking, alternating between the two before you finally you’re ready.
If you had known how big he was you would’ve been a bit more…prepared. You weren’t naive enough to think you could take all of him down your throat. God no. Maybe with some training and patience later if the figure would let you but you didn’t have either of those things or really time on your side. Still, you had to make sure to keep the figures interested in you- even if he’s killed for you already. Better safe than sorry, right?
Hollowing your cheeks out and flattening your tongue on the underside of his cock, you start to suck him off. Bobbing your head you can’t help but feel a bit of a rush go to your head as the figure above lets out another loud ground. You glance up to see the figure’s neck as his head is tilted back. You're absolutely drenched watching him and find yourself slipping a hand into your own pants and moan around him as you rub your clit. That catches his attention as his head snaps down to look at you.
“Naughty girl. You’re so turned on from sucking me off that you have to touch yourself?” It earns a strangled whine, “such a pathetic slut.”
You can’t help but moan at that. “Wow. You are so fucking pathetic it’s adorable.” The figure coos and grips your hair to stop you. Shifting, he puts one foot in front of you and smirks, “here why don’t you just hump my leg while you’re at it.” He taunts.
Funny enough you’ll take him up on that. The moment he frees your head you go back to bobbing your head on his cock humming in delight as you hug his leg, settling on his foot and grind your hips down. If your lips weren’t so occupied at the moment you would smirk at the shocked reaction you pull from the figure but you’re lost in your own world. The stretch of your jaw combined with the already dull ache lulls you into a peaceful trance. You completely ignore the spit that’s starting to wet your chin.
You feel the figure’s other hand gently grab your jaw trapping you in place suddenly. You stared up with doe eyes as the figure fucked your face before you felt him hit the back of your throat. You gagged and your hands flew to his thighs for some stability as he repeated the action. “So fucking good. Taking my cock,” the figure grunts out and tears prick your eyes when he stops moving and you gag because he’s so far down your throat. He pulls off just enough for you to gasp and get some air before he’s back in your mouth and fucking your face again. You’re prepared for it this time as you relax your throat and gag less.
Having lulled yourself into such a peaceful you nearly let your eyes slip close. Sliding your hands down, you wrap your arms around Ghostface’s leg as you continue to fuck yourself against his foot while he fucked your mouth. You ended up tuning everything else out except him and listening to him ramble was going to get you off alone. ‘Such a gorgeous cock drunk whore’, ‘you look so pathetic humping my leg while you let me fuck your mouth it should be illegal’, and ‘you’d look so beautiful being my personal cock drunk slut’. It’s the one you made out between all the groans and moans and curses. You felt his tug at your hair as a warning and you finally opened your eyes.
“Fuck–shit–I’m gonna–” He groaned but doesn’t stop his thrusting. He does the opposite as he picks the pace up. That’s all the encouragement you needed. You find your hips onto his foot even harder and faster as you. You feel the familiar coil in your abdomen and you’re trying so hard to reach it. He snaps his hips forward and forces himself down your throat. Your eyes go wide and you gag, choking on his cock as he spills into your throat. You hit his thighs and try to focus on breathing through your nose but even still the rough face fucking before forced deep throating was enough to send you over the edge. You groan and whine as you continue to hump his foot before he pulls you off his cock and slips his foot out from under you.
Sitting there, you gasp for air as your chest heaves. You look up at Ghostface and lick your lips slowly as you debate if you wanna turn over and let him fuck you right now. He would. For sure…probably and he taste good to. But that would be giving too much. You were the original after all. Finding your footing, you stand up and slide your pants down. There’s a choked sound from Ghostface and you glance over at the figure looking away.
“Seriously?” You raise a brow and giggle, “you just fucked my face but you get all bashful about seeing me in my panties.”
“I–well. I mean. No–” This one sucked at lying. Rolling your eyes, you look away as you take your pants off before sliding your panties off. “What are…” Ghostface’s voice trails off as you stuff your soiled panties into his front jeans pocket. “Consider it an IOU,” you say as you hurriedly put your pants back on. You’re grabbing your bag before the figure gets a chance, “this was fun but I have to run. My friend is coming over for a movie night and he’ll be pissed if I’m not there,” you sigh dreamily at the end of the alleyway, “he’s so caring like that. Anyway, bye!” You say before you’re slinging your back over as you take off. You get home and quickly change into some pajama panties (with new panties) and a sweatshirt before finding yourself settled on the couch while flipping through for a movie.
Hearing keys jingle you look up, you smile at your best friend walking in. You two are so close that he has his own copy. Oscar’s in a baggy grey hoodie with some black jeans on as he takes his shoes off before making his way to the back of the couch. He smiles slightly at you and offers dinner but you decline. As he turns for the kitchen, you spy something hanging out of Oscar’s pocket. It looks like a fabric of some sorts. Watching him in the kitchen, you decide to get some water. Quietly getting off the couch you stand in the doorway. Oscar continues to cook himself dinner and you wait until he’s focused on whatever is in the pan to strike. Passing behind him, your eyes drop down and your breathing stops. Black lacy panties with red roses on them. You look up at Oscar who’s glancing at you over his shoulder. His gaze follows yours and he smirks.
“Can I cash that IOU now, darling?”
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suzukiblu · 5 months ago
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Thank-you sentences for u-h-h-g-h behind the cut; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))
. . . wait, actually, is he gonna have to start reading biographies and historical stuff? He’s a dad now. The other dads are gonna expect him to know stuff about the Civil War and World War II and, like, lawnmowers and how to grill, aren’t they. His dad didn’t even grill, Mom did! Dad always got distracted by his book or something and let the hot dogs burn! 
Billy is not optimistic about his capacity to mow a lawn, though at least they’re in an apartment. Like–probably somebody handles that, right? That’s gotta be a thing, doesn’t it? 
. . . he should check with Batman about that, maybe. 
. . . . . . and also figure out what the wisdom of Solomon knows about how grilling works. 
Or, uh–work on the focus thing, maybe. Definitely the focus thing. It’s just–it all feels like so much, and Billy doesn’t wanna mess up and wreck Lynn’s whole entire life and make him miserable forever or ever make him feel like any of those foster “families” and social workers ever made him and just about all the other kids he knew in the system feel or– 
Billy wonders if he could maybe find a god to talk to about asking to borrow, like, the forethought of Apollo or the precision of Arachne or the strategy of Ariadne or something sometime (though definitely not the concentration of Atalanta, because one golden apple and he’d be right back where he started). Like if he could maybe swap it out with the stamina of Atlas or the courage of Achilles when he needs to, that’s all. Just when it’s, like, situationally useful or whatever. 
. . . he’s really not doing a good job with this focus thing at all, yeah. Which he’s pretty sure he’s thought a few times now already, too, just–
He’s just really nervous, still. He’s really glad Lynn doesn’t hate him or think he’s lame, but he could still totally do something that’d make Lynn hate him or think he’s lame and–
Focus. 
“Want me to serve?” Billy offers, pointing at the plates. “I mean I know I don’t know how much you need to eat yet, but neither do you, and I’ve seen a lot more people eat than you have, sooo . . .” 
“. . . you’ve seen Superman eat?” Lynn asks, looking–uncomfortable, briefly, and looking down at the plates in his hands. Billy’s gonna have to start finding stuff for him to look at instead of people, he’s pretty sure. Like, little puzzles Lynn can be messing around with or little crafts he can be doing or something, so people just figure that’s why he’s not making eye contact with them and not, like, him being antisocial or something. 
“Oh, yeah, tons of times,” Billy says, since that’s a valid question and all, considering actually the way big majority of the people he’s seen eat were human and Lynn is actually not, so actually that might not be helpful anyway. Superman’s diet would be way more useful to know about. But the problem there is–“But like, I don’t ever really know if he really needs to be eating or if he’s just doing it to be polite? ‘Cuz I do that sometimes, definitely. But also sometimes it’s just ‘cuz something looks good? So yeah, I dunno. I’ll have to ask him when I get a chance, maybe I can catch him after the next League meeting. Or I guess I could email him, I guess that’s a thing . . .” 
He doesn’t really use his League email or messaging accounts or anything like that, like, basically ever, but Batman did give them the phones and all, so he’s not gonna have to go to the library to do it anymore, sooooo . . . 
Lynn doesn’t say anything; just keeps his eyes down and on the plates he’s still holding. Billy tries not to frown. Lynn doesn’t talk much or make eye contact all that much, so far, so it’s not like it’s new. Just–he doesn’t know, really. He’s still got this weird feeling like something’s wrong, all of a sudden. 
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heavyhitterheaux · 1 year ago
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Ghost Part 1
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AN: everyone ignore the fact that it took me almost a year to finish this lol
Synopsis: You're an OnlyFans model that gets pregnant by none other than Jack Harlow, who runs at the first sign of taking responsibility for his actions. But soon enough, his responsibilities get to be too much for him to ignore
Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
'I'm a good girl'
At least that’s what you told yourself 
But good girls didn't go to school by day and were a cam girl at night.
However, you were 
It was only for a little while
Just until you finished school
You needed a way to pay for it somehow
Besides the money was good and it kept a roof over your head
You admit that this wasn't your first choice in a career path obviously, but you had to do what you had to do in order to survive.
You had been in foster care since you were 9 because your parents and brother passed away in a car accident while you were the lone survivor
Your grandparents were older and they couldn't take care of you so that's when you went into the system 
Your aunt which was your mother's sister and your mother didn't get along and she said that there was no way in hell that she would take you and that you were someone else’s problem
I mean she did have five kids of her own to take care of, but to be that cold hearted to a nine year old?
You admit that you had survivor's guilt and would do anything to have all three of them here with you. But you knew that they would have wanted for you to have the best life that you could possibly have and that you were going to make sure of it. 
But if they were here, then maybe just maybe, your current life would be different.
You had dreams of becoming a preschool teacher since you were diagnosed at 15 with PCOS and you were told that your chances of getting pregnant were slim to none. It definitely hurt because since you didn’t have any immediate family left, that you wanted to have as many as you could. 
But you figured if you couldn’t have any of your own that you would teach them instead. If you could plant little seeds into their minds that will be able to set them up for greatness then you were all for it. 
You put on your newest lingerie set that was gifted to you by one if not your favorite supporter you would say who went by the name Mr.Missionary and was setting up your camera in order to get the perfect view.
One thing about you is that you never showed your face
Only thing they could see was from the neck down
You did that on purpose because the last thing you wanted was for someone to know what you looked like.
It wasn't the fact that you were embarrassed of what you did, but you wanted to remain as anonymous as possible so for the future, your career wouldn't be impacted. You could only imagine what would happen if someone found out what you had done in college when you were teaching their small children. It probably wouldn’t be good and the next thing that would probably happen is you being out of a job. 
You saw time and time again that happening to different people and that's one thing you did not want to deal with.
But, back to Mr. Missionary
He was a sweet talker and knew exactly what to say.
It all started with a message from him asking you if you were comfortable showing your face to him.
Since he had been supportive of you since day one, you figured why not. But also told him not to share any of the photos that you sent him to anyone else. 
So your jaw definitely dropped when you answered the incoming facetime call and was staring back at no one other than Jack Harlow.
The two of you would talk every week and you mentioned one time how you had never been off the east coast before and would love to go. Only Fans did pay well now that you had a lot of subscribers, but it hadn’t always been that way. However, you really only used the money for school and to make sure that you had a place to live. 
The semester had just ended and you weren't taking any classes during the summer so Jack offered to fly you out to L.A. to spend a week with him while he was recording new songs and you quickly said yes. 
This would happen periodically, him flying you out to different cities to meet him all summer long and soon you found yourself getting ready for the new semester to start.
You had about another year to go at Howard University in D.C. until you graduated with your degree in early childhood education while your friend Nadia was majoring in business administration.
The two of you met your freshman year and had been close ever since when you had to take a few prerequisite classes together.
She was from Louisville and was a big fan of Jack, but you didn't bother telling her what had happened between the two of you.
You signed an NDA anyway.
And since she had gone home for the summer, she had no reason for the thought to even cross her mind. 
But when you just so happened to go to your OB/GYN appointment you had gotten a huge surprise.
You were pregnant and apparently had been for three months.
Your period was irregular and you would often go for months without getting one so you thought nothing of it.
The first thing you did when you got back to your apartment was call Nadia and couldn’t help but to blurt it out.
"I'M PREGNANT!"
"Well first of all hello to you too and WHAT?!”
"I can't get pregnant! At least that's what I was told. They told me that when I was fifteen!"
"Well apparently you can. How far along are you?"
"Three months apparently and I had absolutely no idea. I wasn’t craving anything, no morning sickness, no nothing. None of the usual symptoms."
"Oh so when the semester ended, those legs were open for business, huh?"
"NADIA! BE SERIOUS PLEASE." You said while pacing around your bedroom. 
"Well, who's the father? Did you tell him?"
"Sooo, this is probably going to sound really bad." You muttered while pouring yourself something to drink.
You couldn’t see Nadia’s face, but you could just imagine how it looked. 
"I mean, how bad? You're an adult who can do what you want."
"Ummm…. He’s one of my supporters for my cam show."
"Y/N!!!! IS THAT WHY YOU WERE FLYING EVERYWHERE THIS SUMMER!? YOU WENT TO SEE HIM DIDN’T YOU? DO YOU KNOW HOW DANGEROUS THAT COULD HAVE BEEN?"
"Um, maybe and well, I didn’t die."
"What do you mean maybe?! It's either yes or no! And you didn’t die, but now you came back pregnant!”
"Uh, then yes."
"You need to tell him NOW. It’s his responsibility as much as it is yours."
"I will and then I'll call you back." You said while sighing. 
You didn't have enough courage to call him, but you needed to. It was better to get it over with sooner rather than later. 
You knew he was busy and decided to text him first.
You- Hey, call me when you get a chance 
Jack- I will right before I go to sleep tonight. Hopefully I can get another private show 😉
You didn't even bother responding and just waited for your phone to ring while working on assignments you had to do for class instead. 
Another thing you had to worry about now was graduating on time since you were now pregnant and would be due at the start of the last semester before you graduated. 
It was around 11:52 pm when your phone finally rang indicating an incoming facetime call from Jack.
"Hey pretty girl. I'm sorry it took me so long to call you.”
"Hey. It's okay, I was just studying while I waited.”  You quietly said and Jack was immediately eyeing you knowing that something was wrong.
"You okay?" Jack curiously asked while looking at your solemn expression.
"No, not exactly." You quietly responded while starting to fidget as you closed your textbook that was in front of you.
It was now or never.
"What's going on?"
You took a deep sigh before the words left your mouth. Might as well get it over with.
"I'm pregnant." 
Jack immediately went quiet and pinched the bridge of his nose before he said anything.
"I thought you said that you couldn't get pregnant and I always wore protection every time just in case."
"I thought so too and obviously you didn't."
"How do you know it's mine?" You immediately rolled your eyes.
"Didn't I spend basically the entire summer with you?"
"Some of it, not all of it. I don't know what you were doing when you weren't with me." Your jaw had hit the floor. He had some nerve.
"Don't do that. Why would I lie?"
"I'm being honest. Don't get mad at me for telling the truth. And why would you lie? Because I’m a millionaire the last time I checked, that’s why. Sounds like you tried to trap me." 
"Look, I just want them taken care of. AND EXCUSE ME? TRAP YOU? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?"
"I still don't see what that has to do with me and yes trap me, you heard me the first time."
"Seriously? How could you even say that? I have given you no reason to think that about me."
“Well people can surprise you, everyday. Until I get a paternity test, I'm not believing anything."
That was about three years ago and nothing has changed since then.
You were basically a single mother and Jack popped in occasionally when he wanted to. 
Which wasn't often. 
You were struggling living on your own with no support system in D.C. and Nadia had convinced you to move to Kentucky to be near her so she could help out as much as she could. Her business was finally taking off and she told you that you could find a teaching job at one of the elementary schools since they were hiring for preschool teachers.
When Jack found out that you had moved to Louisville he was not only convinced that you trapped him, but now you were stalking him too.
He had no idea that you were in this by yourself, literally. No help from family or anything.
You could count on one hand how many times Jack had seen Ace since birth and you came to the conclusion that you were probably going to be a single mother and stopped asking him for anything. The last time that he had talked to you was almost two months ago. During that three minute conversation he didn’t even ask how his son was and he only lived less than fifteen minutes away from you.
After the paternity test was done and Jack was proven to be the father, he had accidentally left the paper out on the table and no one other than his younger brother Clay found it. He had questioned Jack about it and because Clay was holding the obvious proof in his hands there was no possible way for him to back out of it. Clay then took it upon himself to reach out to you because he wanted to meet Ace. He met him when he was a month old and at that time Jack had only been to see him once. Because of how he acted, you knew early on not to put his last name on Ace’s birth certificate.  
After moving to Louisville, you met two of Nadia’s close friends, Blaire and Liv. Blaire was a baker who had her own bakery and would have breakfast waiting for you every day for you and Ace before you dropped him off at daycare and went to the school to teach while Liv taught kindergarten at the same school where you were. All four of you had become extremely close, but none of them knew who Ace’s father was. 
Because you signed an NDA, all you ever told them was that he really wasn’t a part of his life and that you were doing this all on your own and they accepted that as an explanation, but it was only a matter of time before they found out the truth. You knew that they would all look at him differently because they were such big fans of him. Plenty of times they had asked you to go to his concerts with him, but you steadily declined, but they never questioned why. 
All Jack did was send money to help with daycare and that’s when he actually remembered to do it. You got a discount since it was actually in the same school as where you taught, but it was still expensive. Especially on the salary that you got.
It was currently almost four in the afternoon and Jack was supposed to pick Ace up to spend time with him and you were hoping that they would be able to spend more time together. You knew that his career was demanding and he was at the height of it, but you just wanted Ace to have a relationship with him. He told you that he would be coming around 2 and that he would take Ace to the Louisville basketball game later with the rest of PG and spend the weekend with him. 
From what you knew, Urban was the only one who knew about Ace and was guessing that this would be his opportunity to tell them. You sighed as you looked at your baby waiting at the door with his little backpack on wanting to see the moment his dad was going to come through the door. 
After a while, he just sat down and sighed which made your heart break.
“Mommy, daddy not coming is he?” He quietly asked you and all you did was sigh.
“We just have to wait and see, bub. Maybe daddy got busy and got caught up with doing something.” One thing that you were tired of doing was making excuses for Jack.
“Does daddy love me?” He looked up at you with tears in his eyes and you quickly sat down next to him and slid him into your lap.
It took everything in you not to cry right then and there, but immediately pulled out your phone to call him.
“Of course he does. Here, baby. Let’s call him to see where he is.”
You didn’t know if you were trying to convince Ace or convince yourself.
You put the phone to Ace’s ear and Jack actually picked up on the third ring which you were surprised by.
“Hello?”
“DADDY! Where you at? Still coming to get me?”
“Oh, hey little man. Um, something came up, but I promise to get you another day.”
“But you promised you were coming today. You said that last time.”
“I know, bubs but I’ve just been so busy.”
Not wanting for the conversation to go on any further, Ace handed the phone to you with tears in his eyes, threw off his backpack and ran down the hallway into his room.
“Ace!” You called after him, but he continued down the hallway. 
“Are you…..? Are you serious right now?! You made him cry because all you do is fucking lie to him and to me!” You took a deep breath before letting him have it. 
“Y/N, please don’t fucking start.” You heard him say before sighing and you could hear cheering going on in the background indicating that he was already at the game.
“Oh, I’m going to fucking start because he has been excited for this all week! Why would you bail on your son like that? You did the same shit last time. You begged me to come and see him and when I told you what time would work best, what did you do? Not even bother to show up. Either you want to be in his life or you don’t and you need to make a decision. Tired of my child constantly being disappointed in his father.”
“Look, I’ll talk to you later.” Jack said and then hung up without another word leaving you fuming from your conversation. 
You simply got up while grabbing Ace’s backpack and made your way to his room. Once you opened the door, you found him laying down with his head resting on his hands just staring off into space.
“Ace….”
“Mommy, can we just go to the park?” He asked not even mentioning what Jack had done.
“Sure, baby. Whatever you want. I also think that it’s a perfect day for ice cream. What do you say?”
At the mention of ice cream, Ace immediately perked up and eagerly nodded his head.
“Can I get chocolate chip cookie dough?”
“Whatever my Ace wants, he gets.”
Upon hearing this, he immediately smiled and you were happy that you could take his mind off of what his father had promised him, at least for a little while. 
Two weeks had passed and you were rushing to get both of you out of the door and to Blaire’s bakery for breakfast so that the two of you would at least have something on your stomach for the busy day ahead.
You had sent a text last night to Jack asking him to send you money for daycare for the month of October, but he never responded leaving you frustrated because you literally now only had 24 hours to come up with the money otherwise you weren’t quite sure what you were going to do.
Your Only Fans was still active, but that was a last resort.
While driving to the bakery, Ace fell asleep in the backseat when you decided to call him.
“Yes, Y/N? What now? I’m busy.”
“Good morning to you too. Did you get my text last night?” You asked after rolling your eyes at how he greeted you.
“Didn’t I just give you money for daycare? Why do you need more already?”
“You see, Jackman….”
“Don’t call me that.”
“That’s your name isn’t it? Given to you by your parents?”
“Look, what do you want? I’m in the studio.”
“No need to be rude. I need more money for daycare. I have to pay it every month.”
“Why the fuck is it so expensive? Got damn a round trip to L.A. is cheaper.”
“I don’t know, but I already get a discount and I have to pay it by tomorrow so can you just send it to me?”
“1600 dollars?!? That’s the discounted price? You have got to be fucking kidding me. They act like you have six fucking kids. He’s one person.”
“Just… can you do it or not? I wouldn't ask you unless I absolutely had to.” You asked, hating that you even had to do so.
“Yeah, I’ll send it and you better be using it for daycare and not something else. Because if I find out you did, you better not ask me for it again. Anything else you want to bother me about?”
“Ace is in the car. Do you want to say good morning to him?”
“Not really. I’ll call him later. Bye.”
“I-....”
Jack hung up without another word and all you did was shake your head at him and how your three year old is more well mannered than he is.
Once you pulled up to the bakery, Blaire met you outside on the curb and immediately ran to your window with a bag of food as well as two drinks. A hot chocolate for Ace and her specially made coffee for you. You swore that she put jet fuel in it and as many times as you asked her for the recipe, she never told you. 
It literally allowed for you to stay energized throughout the day and didn't even want to know how much caffeine was in it.
She handed you yours, while she opened Ace’s door and handed him his.
“Thank you, Auntie Blaire.” He quietly said before taking it and you looked back at him to see that he was pouting and Blaire immediately asked him what was wrong before you could.
“Daddy didn’t say good morning to me when he talked to mommy.”
Oh.
So he was awake.
“I’m just sure he was really busy. You can try calling him later once you get home, yeah?” She said to try and get a smile at him, but all he did was nod his head.
So much for getting a good start to the day.
Ace had been upset the entire time he was in daycare even when you went to go and check on him and brought a cookie as a peace offering which he wasn't excited by and thought that making his latest favorite dinner might take his mind off of it. 
You never in a million years thought that Ace would love to help you cook, but here you were. He told you that he wanted to be a chef when he grew up, so you obviously set him up with everything that he might need.
He told you on the way home that he wanted to make chicken parm with noodles so you stopped by the store to grab the ingredients.
Ace was wearing his apron that you had gotten him as a gift for his birthday which said Chef Ace on it and standing on his step stool to add salt to the boiling water for the noodles while you were finishing cutting up the chicken and about to start making the breading for it.
He didn't bring up for the rest of the day what had happened with Jack earlier, but you had a feeling that it was coming and more than likely it would be around bedtime. But for now, you were simply going to focus on spending time with your little one.
“Ace, do you want to grab the Italian seasoning for mommy to use?”
“Yes!”
He promptly moved his step stool to be in front of the spice cabinet and climbed up when there was a knock on the door.
Ace had handed it to you and stepped down before going to get a sip of juice out of his sippy cup.
“Be right back, bubs. Remember don't touch anything without mommy being in here with you. We don't need you getting hurt.”
“Okay, promise.” He quickly answered before taking another swig of his juice as you went to answer the door to come face to face with Nadia,  Blaire, and Liv.
“Heyyy. Blaire told us baby daddy troubles this morning sooooo…. We brought wine and lemon cake that Blaire made for Ace.” Nadia said as she held up the wine and Liv held up the cake and all three of them were smiling back at you.
“You guys didn't….”
“Shut up and let us in. Yes we did and what is our little chef making tonight?” Liv asked as you moved to the side and let them in while closing the door behind you.
“Chicken parm and salad and Blaire’s cake can be added to that now.”
“HI AUNTIES!” You heard Ace as he ran full speed towards the four of you.
“Auntie’s baby!” Nadia exclaimed as she opened her arms to engulf him into a hug.
“Food should be about done in another thirty minutes.”
“Well until then, we have the wine to keep us occupied.”
After gushing over how good the meal was along with Blaire’s lemon cake, Nadia pulled out her phone and shoved it towards you.
“What am I looking at?” You asked her as Ace had climbed into your lap.
“Jack Harlow and his No Place Like Home concert. I thought I would get tickets for all of us to go.”
Ace then peered at her phone and got a confused look on his face.
“Oh, that's daddy!”
Silence.
Looks of shock.
Looks of disbelief.
Nadia, Liv, and Blaire knew how intelligent Ace was so they didn't think that this would be something that he would lie about all while trying to wrap their heads around it.
When no one said anything, Ace turned to look at you.
“Are we going to call him before I go to sleep?”
“Um, sure bubs. We’ll call him. Do you want to go and pick out a book for us to read tonight before we do?”
He eagerly nodded before hopping down off your lap and heading to his bookshelf in his bedroom.
All you did was sigh and wait for the interrogation to begin.
Nadia was first.
“Y/N!!!!! I…. WHAT!?”
“Do not say anything because the last thing I need is him finding out that other people know.”
“He is a literal ASSHOLE to you and Ace. The mother of his son and his actual son. All the shit that you’ve told us he’s done!?! Or hasn't done for that matter.” Liv exclaimed as she poured herself another glass of wine.
“So that's who was flying you out that summer?”
You simply nodded.
“Y/N…..”
“Look, I don't need the looks of pity. I’m fine, my son is fine and that's all that matters. We’re going to be okay with or without him.”
Blaire who had been quiet the entire time simply shook her head.
“I can always call my brothers to jump him.”
“NO, BLAIRE!”
“The offer still stands. Just say the word.” She replied while shrugging.
“I know how you three love his music so get the tickets and have fun. Me and Ace will be okay.”
“No. One band, one sound bitch. If you have beef with Jack Harlow, so do we.” Nadia said while crossing her arms. 
“Come to think of it… Ace does look an awful lot like him.”
“All I can do every day when we go out is pray that no one notices. I have to protect him and it’s sad that I actually have to do it from his father.”
It was around 7 PM when you had finished giving Ace a bath and had finished reading the book that he picked out earlier to him when he asked to call Jack.
“Can we call daddy now?” He asked looking up at you hopeful and all you did was give him a small smile.
“Of course we can.”
You grabbed your phone and attempted to call Jack on facetime while handing it to Ace.
All it did was continuously ring and you saw the pout on Ace’s face become more pronounced.
“Maybe, he’s just busy, bubs.” You quietly said before you took your phone back and the look of disappointment across his face broke your heart.
“He’s always busy, mommy.”
“But, at least you get to spend the day with him tomorrow! That’s something to be excited about. Do you have any idea about what you want to do?”
Jack had begged you to come and get him tomorrow to make up for not taking him to the basketball game with him and as much as you felt that he was going to go back on his word, but you were willing to give him another chance. But the chances were slowly running out.
“No, I’m just sleepy.”
“Okay, let’s get tucked in so we can sleep.”
Once you had gotten Ace settled, you went into your room and logged onto your banking app to see that Jack in fact did send you the money to pay for daycare and you let out a sigh of relief that you didn’t realize that you had been holding. 
Ten minutes later, you got a text from him.
Jack- I’ll come and get him tomorrow. Be there around nine. 
Hopefully this was a way for him to redeem himself for not showing up the other day and prayed that he would follow through. 
You were tired of seeing your child disappointed. 
The next morning after getting Ace ready, Clay came to get him and you would say that you were surprised that it wasn’t Jack, but that would be a lie. Ace was still excited to see Clay, so the last thing you wanted to do was upset him. You got to have a full day to yourself which you hadn’t had in a while.
Your time was spent going to the mall, seeing a movie, and even going to your favorite restaurant by yourself.
You made sure to soak this all in because you didn’t know the next time that you would be able to get another opportunity to do this and spend your time and money on yourself.
It was around 5 PM when Clay dropped off Ace who you could tell was still on a sugar high since he was running around the apartment and not able to keep still for three minutes when you got on the topic of Clay’s brother since you knew that it was inevitable. 
"Clay, I have given him chance after chance to do right by him and he literally disappoints me and him every time." 
"I know and I'm…."
"No. Do not apologize for him. If he could have just seen his face when he promised to come and get him to go to the game with all of you and to have a cooking date and he didn't show. Like my baby was bawling with tears running down his face and asked me does daddy even love me? Clay my heart can't take too much more of this. This has been going on for way longer than it should have. My son is my entire world and he deserves a father in his life that wants to be consistent and be there for him. I don't think Jack will ever get there." 
"So I guess I shouldn't tell you that he still hasn't told our parents about you or Ace?" Clay asked while scratching the back of his neck.
You then looked at Clay in disbelief as Ace came up on your left side and lifted his hands up to indicate he wanted to be picked up by you or his uncle and Clay quickly did. 
"Your brother is just full of surprises isn't he? You're more of a father to him than he is."
"Reality hasn't hit him yet."
"It doesn't take three years. It's just crazy how you were the only one who welcomed him with open arms, but then again you had already saw the DNA results so you had no choice but to believe me. I guess Jack never thought in his wildest dreams he would sleep with a cam girl and end up with a kid."
Just then your phone went off indicating a text from the man of the hour.
Jack- Y/N, I know you're mad at me but I promise to get him next time.
You- Don't even worry about it. Once again your little brother is stepping up and doing what you should have done. So much that he actually called him dad the other day. Think about that.
You saw Jack would start texting and then stop indicating that he didn't have a good comeback for that one.
How could he?
It had been a quick slip up a few weeks ago by Ace, but Clay simply brushed it off and thought nothing of it. You remembered him saying to Ace, ‘Well we do look alike, don’t we?’ And he quickly agreed.
And just then your phone went off indicating Jack was calling you.
"What?" You asked as you rolled your eyes.
"I'll be outside in 20 minutes and I want to see my son."
Once you hung up, Clay turned to you and asked you what he said.
“He said that he wants to see him, but my thing is that if you really did want to see him then you would have gotten him earlier. The last thing he better do when he comes in here is make a scene.”
Twenty minutes didn’t even pass before you heard knocking on the front door and you immediately rolled your eyes before getting up to answer it.
Once you did, Jack was clearly annoyed and was looking right past you to see where Ace was.
“Where’s my son?”
“Oh, so now he’s your son? Are there certain days of the week that you claim him or?”
“Y/N, I’m not doing this with you right now, where is Ace?”
“He’s with your brother in the kitchen if you must know and you better not go in there and make him upset.”
“Now, why would I make him upset?”
“I don’t know, you tell me. Since all he knows you’re good for is disappointing him.”
Jack didn’t even bother to respond as he walked past you to come face to face with Clay playing with Ace.
Once Ace saw him, he quickly ran to hide behind Clay.
“Bubs, it’s me, daddy. No reason to be scared.”
All Ace did was peek out behind Clay��s leg who was trying to also tell him that it was okay.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t come and get you today, but I promise that I will next time.”
This led to Ace shaking his head no and holding onto Clay’s leg tighter.
“Ace, what’s the matter?” Jack asked seeing as Ace had never acted this way towards him before.
“Daddy, you forgot about me….. Again.”
“I… I didn’t forget. Daddy’s just been really busy, but I’m here now.”
“Maybe if you actually showed up when you were supposed to this wouldn’t be happening.” Clay snapped at Jack as Ace quickly ran to you and you picked him up as he hid in the crook of your neck.
“Clay, I already get it enough from Y/N, I don’t need to hear it from you too.”
“Well obviously you do, because hearing it from one person obviously isn’t enough! Now, why is your kid calling me daddy? Oh, right. Because his real dad actually ignores him.” Clay said while raising his voice at his older brother.
“I DON’T IGNORE MY SON!”
“WHEN IS THE LAST TIME YOU ACTUALLY SPENT TIME WITH HIM? I’VE SEEN HIM MORE TIMES SINCE HE’S BEEN ALIVE THAN YOU HAVE!”
At their heated exchange, Ace began to cry and you knew that you needed to put a stop to this immediately.
“Okay, you two, we’re done. Jack, get out.”
“If I leave, I’m taking Ace with me.”
“You are not taking MY son anywhere. Can’t you see how upset you made him? And I told you once you step foot in here not to upset him and you did the exact opposite. Just leave. You've done enough.”
Jack had let out a frustrated sigh as he was contemplating his next move. He stepped towards you, but was immediately blocked by Clay stepping in front of you.
“Just do what she asked you to do and leave.”
Taglist:
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selineram3421 · 7 months ago
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Hey? I just found your account and absolutely love it!
When you write with Alastor I always get this vibe from him:
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And absolutely love for it 😭🥰
Oh my god.
Matched Search History
Prologue
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Alastor X Writer Reader
Warnings⚠
⚠ Human AU, serial killer stuff so expect murder or mentions of it, oh and blood/gore, cussing, all caps for screeching/yelling, italics=thoughts, mentions of death, slight introvert reader ⚠
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It wasn't your idea but your friend's.
There was a website that matched you with someone that had similar search history.
Currently, both of you were in the cafe with coffee and snacks, sitting at a two person table and having the usual friend hangout until she brought it up.
"Isn't that...a breach of privacy? How is this allowed?", you asked concerned.
"They only get what you give them! Like a questionnaire thing. You put down what you search and they set you up with someone!", she says and shows you the site on her phone.
"This is shady as fuck.", you say.
"Ok, maybe a little bit but you put what you want shared!", she smiles. "I mean you can meet another writer or someone who is super hot!"
Honestly you didn't know what to think of it, but maybe you could give it a shot.
I mean what's the worse that could happen? Haha..
"Ok..", you sighed and gave her the go to for making your account.
"Yay!", she squealed and started up a new profile. "Ok, so name, age, occupation..", she started typing furiously.
Once the basics were set up, she passed the phone to you to fill out the questionnaire.
At Matched Search History we only share what you give us! Any information you put into the system will be coded to find your Search History Partner, any other information you add in will also be added but stored away privately.
Please be aware that if any home address is added in the BIO or in MESSAGES it will be made public.
Yup. Shady shit right here. You thought and kept reading.
What do you search the most?
Answer: _______
You snort and type out murder techniques and first aid.
I'm definitely on the FBI list. You smile.
After taking care of the first one, you put down recipes, art and art history, science, little things like radio technology and other in depth research. You also make sure to put down cats.
"Here.", you hand the phone back.
"Wow that's a lot.", your friend scrolls down your list.
"What did you expect? I do a lot of searching on my laptop for the littlest things.", you shrug.
"Yeah, should have expected that.", she nods and looks through her photo album in her phone.
Leaning on the table, you look as she scrolls for the perfect photo.
"Which one are you gonna pick?", you ask and take a sip of your coffee.
"That cute one where you're hugging a cat.", your friend replies.
"Nah. Put the Halloween one."
She stops scrolling to look you dead in the eye, only to see your smug grin.
"No."
"Aw what? Come on!", you whine. "It'll be funny!"
"No! You're covered in fake blood!", she rejects the idea.
"But think of it! It would be fucking hilarious.", you nudge her arm.
"No and that's final! I'm putting this one!", she says and adds a photo without looking.
.
You honestly forgot about the account you both made until you got a bunch of emails about the website finding your match. You ignored most of them as they didn't go over 70%, that was until you saw the one you got today.
"What?", you asked with a mouth stuffed with noodles, being in the middle of eating lunch.
Picking up your phone, you check the email and feel your eyes widen.
You immediately called your friend.
"DUDE!"
"What?", she asks.
"THERE'S A HOT GUY WHO MATCHED 98% WITH ME!! WHAT DO I DO!?!?"
"Send me his pic! Duh!", she replies.
You take a screenshot of his profile picture and send it over.
"HOLY SHIT! I KNOW WHO THAT IS!!!"
"Who is it?", you ask.
"Don't you listen to his podcasts!?", your friend screeches. "He's the hot voice talking about murder mysteries and other creepy shit! You always listen to him while writing!"
"Huh, so this is him?", you ask. "How do you know? You hate hearing creepy stuff."
"I got bored one day.", she says.
Understandable. You thought. "Ok but back onto the topic. WHAT DO I DO!?"
"Send that love message to meet up!", she replied.
You deadpanned.
I have to go outside? I mean it wouldn't be bad if we went to a cafe or library. Maybe a bookstore... You thought.
"Fine. Since we already know his face he won't be able to run far if anything happens.", you said, making up your decision.
"Geez, don't talk like you're about to die.", your friend groaned.
"What? It's true.", you say. "Statistically, women are more likely to get killed on a date. Which doesn't rule out males but it does happen."
"UGH! Send me pics of what you're going to wear already!", she demanded.
.
You sat on a bench near a bus stop, messaging your friend. It was the best location for you to wait, there were multiple people around and restaurants with cameras.
Not gonna find out my address~ You sang in your head as you messaged your "match" that you had arrived.
You messaged him a brief description of your features and what you were wearing, so that way he wouldn't go around like a headless chicken trying to look for you.
Just in case things went south, you had a back up outfit to change into.
As you waited, a sudden thought came up.
Why was he on the dating site MSH? You wondered. Maybe his friend also pressured him to make a profile or someone else.
Then another thought.
What if it isn't him and someone just used a random photo they found to put up? You frowned at that. I hope that's not the case. That would be very annoying to deal with.
"Now, I hope that I'm not the reason my date is wearing a frown."
Turning your head to see who had decided to approach you, you saw a familiar face and warm reddish copper eyes. He was dressed very nicely, white button up long sleeve, dark red knit sweater vest, black pants, and black looking dress shoes.
"I'm Alastor.", he smiled. "And you are my date for this evening, yes?"
Damn it. You thought, trying to keep a straight face. He looks like a bookish nerd and that is definitely my type.
You stood up from the bench and gave a smile back.
"Nice to meet you.", you greeted and then introduced yourself.
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Thank you for bringing this to me. I have read this post but forgot about it until you brought it back.
~Seline, the person.
Taglist@
@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @willowshadenox @aria-tempest @alastor-simp @nonetheartist @gallantys @i-3at-kidz @luxky-aish @ceafighter @xalygatorx @xangel-8 @big-brother-problems @mistpurpl3 @chewbrry @willowbrookhoot @briethekitsune @alastorthirsty @sir-aadiboii @fuzzyturtlepaws @+?
ML II for Alastor🎙
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