#i will hopefully be getting back to art in general soon

[dominarava]

Angel

Ghostface × Female!Reader

CW: Dub/Non-Con, Blood, Stalking, Breaking & Entering, usual fucked up GF stuff

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: The quiet guy in your discord server decides to chat you up in the general vc, and as expected, has a lot more to unpack than you ever expected.

Notes: I was lazy and just posted the ugly default AO3 link when I first posted this, so I'm coming back and making it look nicer with new and improved tags lol

This piece doesn't specify who is really behind the mask, so whoever you want is up to you~

I had fun with this and left light references to the movies, Dead By Daylight, and Mortal Kombat to honor some of my favorite appearances of him-- hopefully it doesn't ruin the immersion lol

I don't usually leave notes, but it's been a while and I've adored all the comments and kudos I've gotten in my absence, cause at the end of the day, that's what will always bring me back. I love all your support and time reading this and hopefully I have more soon to come for you all!

Thank you again so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy! 🔪💕✨️

AO3 Link

This had become the nightly habit: get off work, make dinner, chill with the lads in a Discord call until bedtime. Mindlessly playing a game, you weren't surprised by the sound of someone joining the call, however you were surprised by who it was. He was a rando that had joined a while back, was nice enough, but didn't have much to say as he relegated himself to really only short replies or emoji reactions. You could have sworn he posted a thirst trap without his face in the #selfies channel, but you weren't 100% sure. When he would join calls he would always stay muted, opting to reply in the text chat or not at all, merely listening to and enjoying just being around the good times happening. All the same, you felt it rude to not say at least a little hello. 

“Hey! How’re you doin’ tonight?” 

“Hey there~” 

The voice on the other side was low, having a bit of a flirtatious twang in the sigh of his greeting. Your heart skipped a beat, you weren't sure if he had ever spoken to you, much less anyone else in the server. And if you were being honest, he sounded kind of hot. Letting the giddy feeling ride, you tried to keep him talking since it was just the two of you. 

“Woah–” You poked cheekily, “I dunno if I've heard you say anything before.” 

“I'm more of a one-on-one kind of guy,” He offered smoothly, “But I enjoy listening to everyone having a good time.” 

“Fair–” 

The air fell dead as you wondered what to talk about next, letting him cut into the silence with a question, “So.. what's your favorite scary movie?” 

Having just finished a server horror movie night not too long ago, the question felt like a natural segway into your interests, “Hmmnn that's actually a good question– I think if we're just talkin’ horror in general my first and favorite would have to be Silence Of The Lambs. The back and forth relationship between Clarice and Dr. Lecter was probably one of the most challenging to my mind at the ripe age of twelve, since then I've loved horror that has a female protagonist that is put under pressure by the killer to make difficult choices and solve the puzzle he left for her.

“But– that's not to say pieces like Substance or Midsommer aren't incredible mentally challenging works of art to me, I love both, along with movies like The Empty Man, Smile, It Follows, The VVitch, The Void, V/H/S–”

He cut your train with a light chuckle, “I definitely want to know which you thought was better, Smile or It Follows, but I meant to ask, what’s your favorite slasher movie?” 

You gave this one a lot more consideration as your heart swelled with a damning excitement at the thought of your favorite killers, “That's such a hard choice! Of course Micheal Myers from <i>Halloween</i> is like everyone's big daddy– but I think if I had to choose it would have to be Stab! Ghostface is just a lot more fun, playful, and let's be honest– horny.” 

“Oh yeah?” He hummed, “Why's that?” 

How his tone seemed to curl at the end of his words made your chest tighten and a heat rise to your cheeks, “I mean, at the heart of it.. the voice actor responsible for his voice changer in the movie said that his tone is flirtatious, beyond that– between the fact that the first Ghostface seemed to get off on the idea of causing his object of obsession, Sidney, the most pain possible by the mocking of her mother being the town bicycle and it's even pointed to at the end of the movie that the two who were behind the Ghostface killings were the same two that brutalized Sidney's mother–” 

“Goddamn–” Nearly groaning his words as he cut you off, he cleared his throat and pressed, “Good girl~ You sure do know your stuff.” Praising you with words that melted like chocolate over your tongue, your mind tilted at his words, ‘Good girl’. 

Good girl?!

“Excu–”

“I fuckin’ love girls like you–” He went on, swearing you could hear the ache of him through the call, “Your type always knows how really appreciate us..” 

‘Us’?

Before you could get a word in, he went on, “Buuut it looks like that's my cue– I hope you're ready for some fun this evening.” Leaving the conversation with the disconnect sound chiming through your ears in silence to process what just happened. 

The sound of him leaving the call let a wash of relief run over you, only lasting for a moment as the floor creaking caught your attention with arms wrapping you in a winding embrace. Having your arms pinned at your sides, your hands flailed looking for any sort of way out. Only, the way your grip seemed to find his length caged behind his pants before skirting over to the long hunting knife strapped to his leg, making your struggle against him stop with a gasp.

“Yeah.. that's all for you Babe, whatever you need– so.. let's behave.. alright..?” The same voice that was lingering in your headset only moments ago was in high definition against your back. 

Firmly pressing his hand over your mouth, you froze as someone else joined the empty call with you, “Hey you there?” 

Your headphones loud enough for him to hear, an uneasy pause passed between you two as his hold over your lips lessened, “Yeah-” He let you breathe through his nitrile gloved fingers.

“Good, kinda glad he's gone, he's chill and all, but it kinda bugs me that he's just in here just dead-ass silent all the time. Fuckin’ weird.” 

Looking over your shoulder a bit to get any sort of a look at him, you were only met with the deep black drooping eyes framed by a gasping bone white mask. Familiarity of the visage made your heart drop into your stomach, forcing you to chew on the harsh fact that that same familiarity you knew to fear, also brought the flutter of butterflies in with it.  

A rough bump of his hips to your back-end snapped you out of your own mind and made you bark out, “Uh– Same– he is kinda weird, I've– talked to him a little bit and he just– seems like a bit of a creep..”

“Oooh shit whaddaya mean?” 

He peered over your shoulder to look at you, curious to see how you would pull this along as his other hand pushed at the elastic of your pajama bottoms, “He uh– waited for everyone to leave– and then started hella chatting me up–” 

“Are you good? It sounds like you're doing something.” 

Eyeing him, the slight nod of his head coaxed you to keep talking while his fingers made their home in exploring your heat, “Yeah I'm fine– I think I pulled a muscle and I–”

“Oh shit– sorry, one sec– groceries are here, I'll be back in a minute!”

At the sound of her disconnection he lifted you up with a near effortless toss onto the bed, wasting no time crawling on top of you to get at what little clothing was left with his blade. Watching the fabric dance away from your frame, he gripped your wrist as you tried to switch your mic off.

“Go on.. stay in that call.. let ‘em all know what a stagy little whore you are.” He pushed, lifting the hem of his hoodie above the glimmer of the silver button hiding his length behind the black denim. 

No time was wasted getting into you, making himself at home between your legs with a few rough thrusts and shivering grunts that made your mind twist. Squirming under him the grit falling off his boots into your blankets made you buck against him in frustration, earning a low sigh from him as his beat picked up. 

“Mmn if you keep fighting me.. I'll gut you like a fucking pig.” Groaning into your ear, the delicate touch of his knife teased itself between your breasts. 

Defiance sparked in you to bite back, “If we're– oh god– following the rules, you'll just do it anyway–” 

The blade pulled its edge against your skin, splitting you like a ripe peach under its cut, “True.. but the killer's favorite little slut never dies.. she's gotta make it to the sequel, the trilogy, hell! Maybe a whole fuckin’ saga..”

Suddenly ringing in your ear the sound of the bluetooth assistant chimed,

Battery Low.. Please Charge Soon.

You held your lips tight as the length of him pushed to the hilt over and over, letting the air in the call stay dead as your friend and others passed through, thinking you were away from your keyboard. 

“What’s wrong? Suddenly have nothing to say? I thought you liked the idea of being yanked around by a big man with a knife? Little different than on the big screen, ain't it Babe?” 

You could practically hear him purring behind the mask, his pace slowing to deep grind as you felt the rub of his metal pants zipper dig into your skin like a threat.

“Mmmm– remember a couple weeks back– we were all watching that scary movie– when you wouldn't shut the fuck up about how you wanted to ride that slashers cock like a carnival ride– fuck you don't know what that did to me– hearing you get all giddy about bouncing on dick after a kill– goddamn you don't have a fuckin’ clue– how bad I wanted bust through that fuckin’ window and tear you apart–” 

Gripping his palm across your eyes to pin your head to the bed, the unrelenting barrage of what came was less of a kiss and more of a hostile takeover of your senses. You couldn't tell how long you were left to his devices, using you with the excitement of a new sex doll he'd been waiting months for. The fight in you began to fade with the swipe of your tongue to his, earning the zeal of him rutting into you harder. 

“See.. I knew you'd love it..” 

Battery Low.. Please Charge Soon.

Dipping down to your chest to kiss the fresh wound that lay spilling blood around your breasts, taking in the heavy scent of your rubies like a jewel thief making his biggest heist. Slipping his free hand over your chest to the slick of your nipple made you gasp as a perfect distraction before pulling his mask back down. Adorning his usual visage now laid a smeared print of your life in blinding crimson, letting that be the first and only thing you saw as he let you have your vision back in the darkness. Against the blur of your eyes readjusting from the pressure of his weight on them, the dip of his frame dropping against yours with his hands gripping the sides of your head in a vice made you dizzy with a feral beat between your legs. Throughout his treatment you didn't feel that familiar latex rub of a barrier between you, forcing your stomach into a twist as his panting behind the mask got heavier. 

The first grace of the evening came when you finally heard the powering down beeping of your headset giving its last bit of juice before cutting out. Unbound by the fear of being heard, your voice let out a moan that vibrated the silence of the dead air room. Relaxing a little under him, he pushed your rear up, angling himself better to pump deep before running his fingers over the tacky blood joining the fresh on your chest in a macabre mess. Having the dig of his fingertips into the open wound weeping from you was a new kind of violation before he breathed out a shaken manic pleasure from the mask that captivated you. 

“Oh fuck– I'm going to smear your blood over my every  fucking pore!” The bubbling frenzy in his tone gave away his devouring bliss as it promised to swallow you whole. 

Honestly, you weren't long for the session either way as he found just the right spot to rub his tip into the soft warmth of you hugging his length and perfect grind of his mound against your bud aching to come undone. Seeing him watch you in those last moments before you went over the edge was enough to send you there as you trembled and cried out under his grip. Moaning and reaching to touch him in any way you could, you couldn't get enough of him as your body craved the closeness it needed. Expecting swift punishment for the affection, he surprised you by taking your hand in his, slowing his pace. Lacing your fingers as one, the gentle caress of his thumb to your skin had your rose colored glasses as red as they could be. Watching with a affectionately hazed gaze while he pinned you down, your skin when cold as his words dripped from his lips like sweet poison: 

“You think you're getting away that easy? I'm just gonna cum and that be that? No.. I prepared for this all day. You're not goin’ fucking anywhere.”

[somethingsomethingcomic]

was drunk AF last night and wanted nothing more in this world than a donut

sorry bout the inactivity. tears of the kingdom is out so

[panthermouthh]

Here’s how Victor made the creature I’m pretty sure idk I didn’t read the book

[cbdinodoodlez]

fun idea i had almost a year ago where luke realizes clive isnt him, so he confronts him

here's a version w/o text and filters and also the original 👍👍👍👍

[storfulsten]

hey uh sorry for disappearing yet again for a couple months. don't have much of an excuse, though things have been more stressful than usual, offline life having involved family and hospitals and stuff, but not gonna go into any details, things are better now either way so ye. my way of coping with things have been mostly to just play games (ffxiv mainly, leveling alts and other grinding can be a good distraction sometimes) and nothing else to keep my mind off things, so haven't been able to focus enough to do much of any art at all. I am hoping to get back into the swing of things, I am back on my meds that I skipped out on for like a year due to various reasons, but they seem to be helping again so yeah, fingers crossed that things will work out and such ha

[1980ssunflower]

jesus

[its-howboy]

I know I come on here like twice a year and say this time I'm posting art for real but This Time I'm posting art for real!! Starting with a new icon hopefully

[inbabylontheywept]

the fine and subtle art of arguing with old men

it was a good week for testing which meant it was a slow week for me. most of my job is fixing the machine when it goes down. if it doesn't go down, i don't have much to do. 

fortunately neither did marc. in a site full of ornery old bastards, he's the oldest and the orneriest, so it goes without saying that i enjoy spending time with him. he reminds me of my grandpa. hell, he reminds me of a lot of people. i've befriended enough grumpy old men that i've got a sort of momentum to it now - you know how it is, when you meet someone that reminds you of someone else you really like. you get to start that friendship off half built, because you already have an idea of how to like that guy, and some of that old warmth can be brought to the new friendship. a little ember to start the stove up with.

(i think that's one of the really undersold beauties of getting older. you stop viewing people as strangers and more like remixes of friends.)

anyway, i was sitting next to marc and we were talking about the future. i've got my eye on having kids sometime soon (year or two? hopefully?), and he's very happy for me. i've tried asking him for advice, but all he says is that he didn't do a great job with his own kids and they still turned out okay, so i should stress less and trust myself more. i hope he's right. he believes it, at least, and it's a hell of a thing to have the faith of an old man. his faith is hard won.

as for his plans, he's retiring at some point in the next six months, and is hoping to sell his home and buy something in florida. he's republican, so he views the state as paradise, and i'm not inclined to even try talking him out of it. it's his dream, you know? i know for a fact my paradise would be a lot of people's hell. life's funny like that.

still, we kept going on, and it was a good time, and then he reminisced about the last time he got close to quitting - back around 2020. our job required getting vaxxed, and he refused, and there was a big kerfuffle about it before the job actually backed down. i know there's not a lot of sympathy for the unvaxxed out here, but the man's 62. you get the shot when you're under 30 to protect the people around you, but when you're over 60, you're just getting it to protect yourself and it's hard to be mad at someone for kicking their own ass. 

still gave me pause though. i knew he wasn't going to take it well, but half the job of collecting curmudgeons is keeping them around, so i said 

hey. i'm sorry they bent your arm over it, but.

but. 

you should really get that shot. 

and he looked over at me, and i looked at him, and he actually spat. not on me, just the concrete, but it was enough to show that he was mad. then he walked away, as abrupt as anything.

i felt bad about it. i wasn't sure what i'd expected, when he was willing to lose his job over it before, but i'd been so invested in his dream of retirement - the idea of him sipping margaritias on a beach next to his wife, the wife he calls every day during lunch, the wife he says is the one thing in life he ever got right on the first try. the wife that almost divorced him back when he was in the airforce because he just wasn't home enough. 

(but he can be home now.) 

and then he mentioned the vax thing, and it was like seeing a pin hit a balloon. he works out every day and takes all sorts of crazy vitamins and is generally committed to getting the most out of his pension and his life. i didn't want this dumb weak point to be his achilles heel. 

---

i wasn't actually sure how long marc would be mad at me. i've seen him stay mad at some people for weeks. i wasn't sure if being friends would make that time go up or down. 

it went down. i'm glad it went down. 

he stopped being mad about two days later. we were doing front end maintenance one morning, and it was just that simple mechanical rhythm - hex key, replace the anode sheets, punch some off-gassing holes, oil it up, put it back in - that put things at ease. it always does. people working there are too busy to remember grudges, and it has this sort of mandatory practical communication that helps smooth things over. it was going great, and then out of the blue he said babs, you gotta be careful giving advice. those shots come with complications. what would you do if i got that shot, had a stroke, and died? 

and i don't know what answer he was expecting, but i just told him the truth, which is that i would be devastated. i'd feel like i killed him. i thought that was a pretty normal response, but he looked taken aback. he asked why i said it then, and i said i'd have felt the same if he died of covid. that's just life. sometimes, there's no way forward that doesn't risk some kind of regret. 

we finished the tube after that, in a silence that felt heavier than peace but lighter than anger. it felt like the ball was back in marc's court. like it would be rude to take that turn from him. 

we parted ways with a nod and didn't speak until the next day. 

---

i was doing spreadsheet work when he found me again. standard paper engineering - thinking of things we might need and ordering them in batches, months ahead of time. it always feels a little like plugging holes in a dam with my fingers. 

but he popped up, and we didn't even exchange pleasantries. he just said i'm gonna die one day, and you can't blame yourself for that. 

which is a hell of a thing to just tell someone right off the bat. 

so i said what 

and he said babs, i am in my 60s. something is gonna get me eventually, and whether it's covid or heart disease, or a stroke, there will be something you could have said or done before. and that's okay. it's not your job to make me live forever. 

and you know, he actually made a lot of sense. so i said 

okay. 

i'll keep your business yours. i just

you were talking about your retirement before this. and i want that for you very much. you've worked hard for 45 years, and you deserve a break. we're getting to sick season, and it would be the saddest fucking thing in the world if you got this close to winning the race then tripped in the last ten feet. 

and we sat there a few moments longer. i wasn't sure what to say, and i wasn't sure what he'd say, but eventually he just shrugged and said

yeah 

then he left. i figured that would be the end of it. 

---

i did front end maintenance yesterday, after being gone a week. it's one of my favorite things to do. i like working with my hands. i really like working with my hands. i'm glad i went to college, but in a different life, i think i could've made a better electrician than an electrical engineer. 

and at one step, when we were both hoisting the plate back onto the machine, his sleeve rode up, and i saw two bandaids on his arm. 

we finished the install, and i was ready to go back when marc actually stopped me. 

i got the shot, he said, almost embarrassed. like he'd been caught. and i knew he was gonna say something dumb about it, so i just cut him off by giving him a hug. 

i was relieved. hugging old men is kind of like picking up cats. if they like you a lot, they'll tolerate it, but that's about it. we sat there maybe three beats before his hands went up, and then he gave me one overly-hard thump on the back. in my experience, this is how old men tell you that they're done, so i let him go.

carla talked me into it, he said, almost defensive. his wife. his one good decision.

tell her i said thanks, i said back.

trump got the shot too, he said, less defensive, but oddly pleading. like he was consoling himself.

like he was nervous.

then it's gotta be safe, i said, and he looked up at me, strangely searching, strangely vulnerable. i don't know exactly what he was looking for, but i guess he found it because after a few moments his shoulders relaxed.

yeah, he said, one hand on the back of his head.

it's gotta be.

[crazeno]

To D, Orion, Elita, and B:

Merry Christmas!

May you make wonderful memories together that’ll last you a lifetime!

And a VERY Merry Christmas to you as well, mod!🎄🎄🎄

Hope everyone has a happy holidays even if you don’t celebrate christmas!

Been a bit busy with some ol xmas shenanigans, hopefully i can get back to general art and answering asks soon :o)

[fever-project]

I’m not DEAD, Daniel (2904 words) by FeverProject Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, Danny Phantom Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Danny Fenton & Wild (Linked Universe) Characters: Danny Fenton, Wild (Linked Universe), the rest of the LU gang are also there but they aren’t important Additional Tags: This isn’t crack but it sure is silly, very much so for me, Ghost King Danny Fenton, Tired Danny Fenton, Wild (Linked Universe) is a Little Shit, might be ooc hopefully not, Misunderstandings, just a little bit Summary: DPxLU crossover because I couldn’t help myself. Surprised I didn’t do this earlier considering gestures at my everything Wild has an encounter with the Ghost King. It is definitely an experience.

Uhhh fanfic, yeah. I’m going to explode. Art

Enjoy 👍

▼

Wild was bored. Which wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence, but it was one that he hated. It was night time now and he was supposed to be asleep, just like everybody else in the inn. But he wasn’t like everybody else, he already slept for 100 years straight, sleeping was only useful to him if and when he wanted to be more healthy. And sleeping every night was generally considered to be healthy, but Wild didn’t care, he needed to move.

Out the window he went, quiet as a mouse. Hopefully no one would notice he was gone, and that he would be back before morning came. But there was an entire forest nearby to explore, and he felt like he could-no, should explore to his heart’s content. The wilderness called to him, beckoned him in. That’s what he kept repeating to himself in his mind anyway, as a way to reassure himself, that as a hero who had saved Hyrule, sneaking out at night and potentially worrying the other heroes wouldn’t be a stupid thing to do. Zelda would’ve thought otherwise, and he knew that, but tried not to think about it too much.

The forest was mostly quiet, save for things like the chirping of birds and crickets. The faint rustling of trees was like music to his ears. There was a light breeze, which felt nice against his face as he ventured further into the forest. He tried his best to walk in as straight of a line as he could, to more easily find his way back. He really wished his Sheikah Slate worked properly in this time, maps made everything much easier. But then he would have to go searching for those towers, and while as fun as they were to activate, took up far too much time, much more than he and his group were currently willing to spare.

Wild was suddenly on edge. That odd shapeshifting, Lizalfos-looking, portal opening thing was still out there. Not to mention the black-blooded monsters that thing infected. Wild sighed as walked, now paranoid and frustrated. After a few moments of that, he finally gained enough brain cells to figure out that he should probably head back. With another sigh, which was more of a groan, he spun on his heel, turning around to make his way back to the inn.

Soon enough, something in the air…shifted, he couldn’t tell what. An oddly familiar yet unnatural feeling enveloped his senses as the sky started to turn into an odd shade of pinkish purple. The few clouds up in the sky, only a slightly lighter shade than the sky itself, swirled around above him, as the space in front of him split. Wild felt his heart drop and his breath leave his body as the rift continued to grow. Green glowing light bleed out from it, lighting up the trees and grass and him. Something was happening, something bad, and it was targeting him. He stumbled back, he had to, he had to get away and yet. And yet. It was calling to him. It was scaring him, the world behind the rift hated and loved him all the same.

Wild had to escape.

Wild tried to breathe, in and out, slowly, calmly, he looked for a way out. Trees, there were only trees and more trees and bushes and grass and even more trees-slowly, in and out, his breathing, his breath. He was alive, and he was going to make sure he would stay that way, bright green portal notwithstanding. The portal was growing bigger, quickly, but not as quick as Wild’s mind was when it was panicking. Maybe that meant that panicking was a good thing. Wild almost stopped panicking completely once he realized how stupid that thought sounded. His panic swiftly returned when a white boot stepped out of the portal. When matching white gloves also came out, Wild went to get out his sword and shield, fumbling with his slate as the person emerged from the rift, it closing behind them soon after.

“Excuse me?” The person asked, their words 

echoing, despite the conditions for that to logically happen simply not existing here. Wild stiffened, having only gotten his sword out. But he knew deep within his soul that it wouldn’t be very effective against the higher being standing before him. Yet his grip tightened despite that. He wouldn’t run away, not now, he would try his best to fight this being off if he had to. And if that failed, he would retreat, tactically.

The being was dressed in an odd black and white outfit, having tan skin and white hair. Their bright green eyes, glowing body, and their crown that was literally on fire were very clear signs that this person wasn’t anything he’s seen before. Not to mention the hovering. And the portal they just came out of. And the weird voice-and Wild needed to start focusing on the situation at hand.

The being raised their hands up defensively, “Hey, put down the sword, I’m not looking for a fight,” they said, “I’m just. Looking for someone, yeah.”

“Uh huh,” Wild dumbly nodded, keeping his eyes on them.

“Right, okay, let me just-“ they looked around, suspicious at their surroundings, “-okay, don’t tell anyone you saw me, or that you saw this. Actually, it doesn’t matter, forget what I just said.”

Wild nodded again, watching as a ring of light came out of their waist, enveloping them as they donned a more hylian appearance. They had even odder clothes on in this form, baggy and worn. Their skin was paler and their hair was pitch black. They looked like death in the form of a teenage boy.

“Are you Death?” Wild asked blatantly. Listen, he was curious, he need to know this. The being raised an eyebrow at him, confusion evident on his face. “Like,” Wild scrambled to rationalize his less than rational thought process, “I don’t know, you seem scary? And corpse-like? Are you dead? Am I dead-well, no, I can’t be dead, that would be silly, ha. But are you?”

“Well I am the Ghost King, king of ghosts,” they said plainly, with a shrug, “Name’s Danny, Danny Phantom, and that’s really all you know about that. Listen-“

“Aren’t you like, twelve?” Wild knew they probably weren’t twelve, but this ‘Ghost King’ guy looked pretty young.

“What? No! I’m not twelve, I’m like-“ they pouted, like a twelve year old, snapping their fingers in thought, “older than you!”

“Oh yeah, I’m-“ Wild stopped, wondering if it would be smart to tell the Ghost King that he’s technically one hundred and seventeen years old. “I am at least seventeen! And I look like it as well.”

“You’re the same height as me.”

Wild looked at the ghost, glared at them, walking a bit closer to them. He placed his hand on top of his head and moved it forward, towards the Ghost King’s head. His hand brushed against their hair, but it clearly didn’t reach the top of their head. Wild grinned, well, wildly at the sight of being taller than them. They looked unimpressed.

“You’re the one acting like a twelve year old you know,” Danny scoffed, pouting.

“Says the pouter.”

“Look, can you just help me find this guy, since you’ve clearly calmed down now.”

“And why should I?”

“I’ll make your afterlife terrible otherwise.”

“Fine, I’ll help, gosh,” Wild was probably going to help anyways, he liked helping people. He just wanted to be annoying. “So, who and why?”

“Great! So, I’m looking for this guy named Link,” oh no, “Clockwork-he’s a time ghost, don’t worry about him-told me that he was hoping around other times with other guys also named Link.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well-okay, you’re annoying so I’m just going to ignore that-“

“Time isn’t real.”

The two stared at each other, and Wild both wanted to punch himself in the face, and thought he was the funniest man alive. Danny seemed to think the same way too, with their bewildered expression suddenly turned into one holding back a lot of laughter.

“Al-alright, that was good I’ll give you that,” they chuckled, “Anyways, I’m looking for this specific Link because they’re supposed to dead, and I’m supposed to like-do something about that. I think I have a picture of this guy that Clockwork gave me, hold on.” They stuffed their hand through their goddess forsaken chest, and rummaged around like their own body was a mere storage container. Wild was instantly jealous of them. Sure he had his Sheikah Slate, but it wasn’t a part of his body.

Wait, Danny had a picture of him. Oh no, they were going to kill him. He didn’t need them to say word for word that they were going to kill him, but Wild didn’t know what else they could do to him. He needed to be on his toes and hone his quick reflexes in order to survive this ordeal.

“Annnd-nope, that’s my thermos-here it is!” They pulled out a piece of folded paper, and just as they started to unfold it, Wild snatched it from their hand and shoved it into his mouth.

“Wha-WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!” Danny shrieked, hands on the side of his head, horrified.

“‘Cause,” Wild responded in a muffled voice, chewing the paper. Tasted inky.

“Okay, you are definitely the weirdest person I’ve ever met, an I know a ghost who whole personality is boxes, just boxes. Actually, I don’t think he’s that weird compared to some other fruitloops I know of-but that doesn’t matter, spit that out!”

“No.”

“You are acting like a twelve year old-no, even twelve year olds wouldn’t do this, you’re five.”

Wild gasped, photo smushed to the side of his mouth, in between his cheek and teeth so it wouldn’t fall out.

“You’re just mad I’m right.”

“Nah uh!”

“Then how about you spit that out, like a normal, seventeen-you’re seventeen right?” Wild nodded, “Right, like a normal seventeen year old would, or I’ll phase it out of your mouth by��force.” Wild did not like sound of that. So he spit out the photo, the slobbery mess falling onto the grass. Even Wild was grossed out by what he had done. Danny clearly was.

“You’re going to have to unfold that yourself, I’m not touching that,” Danny looked sick.

“Yeah, that’s fair, I’ll do that,” why wasn’t the paper metal, then he could use his Sheikah Slate to pick it up. Good thing he had some spare gloves stored in it, so it was fine, it’s fine. He started to unfold the paper, Danny peering over his shoulder, both with matching disgusted expressions. Wild was right about the contents of the drawing. His face, blast scars and all, was right there. Wild looked at Danny. Danny looked at him. Wild wanted to punch them in face and run off, but they are a ghost. But Wild still slowly raised his free hand into a fist, retaining eye contact.

Danny began to speak, “So-“ Wild swiftly punched them in their face, and skittered backwards, trying to look for a way back to the inn safely. The ghost had stumbled back, clutching their face in pain.

“Huh, so you can punch ghosts,” Wild noted.

“You can definitely punch this ghost,” Danny rubbed their hurt nose, “Didn’t even get me a chance to speak.”

“Please don’t kill me.”

“I’m not going to kill you, that’s not what I’m here for.”

“Oh.”

“Bet you feel stupid now, don’t ya?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

Danny sighs, pinching their nose, not in pain this time, but annoyance. “So,” they started again, “what I’m trying to do is get you on the ‘Supposed to be Dead but Came Back Anyways’ census. Basically, the name’s a work in progress.”

“And…I’m supposed to do something about it?”

“Kinda? Look, just sign here, and I’ll get out of your hair.” They pulled out another piece of paper out of their chest, with already had a few other names on it in neat little boxes. Wild couldn’t read any of those names, but Danny probably could.

Wild’s face scrunched up, trying to think about what he should do next. They hadn’t really explained their reasoning for any of this, so he still didn’t trust them too much. Maybe this was some elaborate ruse to kill him.

“Will me signing this ‘census’ give me any benefits-will it give you any benefits?” Wild pointed accusingly at Danny.

“Well, are you dead?”

Wild groaned, “I’m not DEAD Daniel,” Wild threw his hands into the air in frustration, “Just use your stupid ghost words to explain to me what I need to do and why.”

“Okay,” Danny squeaked out, “But first off, name’s just Danny.”

“Uh huh.”

“And secondly, I’m doing this because there’s a bunch of ghost legal jargon where your name was already listed on both the ‘dead,’ and then also the ‘not dead’ list after you came back to life. You signing this will help fix that.”

“…Aren’t I time traveling right now?”

“Yes, but it’s still good to note down who had came back to life. Please just make my life easier, this is themost stress inducing part of my job I’ve ever done.”

Wild was starting to feel a bit bad now. So now, with a better understanding of the situation, he took the paper from Danny’s hands.

“Here’s a pen to write with,” Danny gave him a pen from their chest.

“Can all ghosts store stuff in their bodies?” Wild asked as he wrote down his name in the next free box, adding on his title of ‘Hero of the Wild’ in the same box, just to specify things.

“No, but I sure can,” they said with a big smile.

“That’s so cool.”

“I know.”

The two laughed a bit as Wild returned the paper and pen to Danny.

“Well, sorry for not explaining my motivations fully, I’m a bit…tired, ha ha,” Danny rubbed the back of their neck, clearly embarrassed.

“Yeah. Sorry for punching you.”

“Now I’m going to go take a nap. Or sleep for once.” A ring of light enveloped Danny yet again, returning him to his more ghostly form. Then he turned around and held out his hand, before cutting the space there, opening the bright green portal.

“See you in the Ghost Zone, Link! Eventually!” They waved as they stepped into the rift.

Wild waved back, “That sounds pretty ominous, but okay!” Danny laughed at that as he went all the way through, the portal closing soon after. Now Wild was left all alone in the woods.

He needed to get back to the inn.

It took him some time, but he eventually found his way back to the inn. In through the window, as quiet as a ghost, he was back in his room. He flopped down onto his bed, mentally exhausted. He would’ve rather been bored than have had dealt with…whatever that was. Not really, but Wild was certainly ready to go to sleep now, and pray that he wouldn’t have to meet that Ghost King ever again. Not because he was scared, but because he was a bit embarrassed about what happened. He acted a bit stupid there. But none of that mattered now. All that Wild had to do now, was to sleep.

ー

“Has anyone seen the champion yet?” Time asked, looking over the group that were all hanging around the inn’s dining room.

“Nope,” Warriors said with a pop, “He’s likely still asleep.”

“But I’m hungry,” Wind whined, “Captain, do you know how to cook?”

“I know how to make things edible and nutritious,” Wars plainly answered, receiving a few groans from various Links.

“We could just have the food they serve here,” Twilight suggested.

“Champ’s better,” Four retorted.

“How about we all wait a bit longer,” Time said, “It hasn’t even been half an hour since we woke up after all.”

They all muttered their agreements, and choose to occupy themselves with taking count of their resources for the time being. A few more minutes passed before Legend noticed something.

“Hey guys, I think I see the champ coming down right now,” Legend pointed at the staircase, and the other heroes scrambled to see their resident chef stumbling down the stairs.

“Are you doing alright?” Hyrule asked.

“You seem exhausted,” Sky added.

“Ye-yeah,” Wild yawned, stretching his arms, “Ghost problems and all that stuff.” He set out to make some food for his companions, who were looking at him with confusion and concern.

“Ghost problems?” A few of them asked at once.

“Is this place haunted?” Wind looked around with an excited grin on his face.

“Nope, but I sure got haunted in the woods out there,” Wild waved in the vague direction of where the forest was, “Now I’m going to make something to eat, want some?”

Of course they wanted some, food was important. They continued to ask questions about the ghost, but Wild didn’t answer, he didn’t feel like it. Maybe in like, two days he would. But for now, he just wanted to eat some Vegetable Risotto, maybe with a few Endura Carrots thrown in as well. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to deal with that Ghost King again anytime soon. At least, hopefully not before this time traveling adventure ends.

[doesephs]

may have burnt out because i’ve overdone my workload for three months in a row and created unnecessary deadlines that i didn’t have to do but proceeded under the mentality of take every opportunity. don’t get me wrong i want to keep creating art and publishing it, kinda have to it’s my job, but after a bunch of harassment and general unwelcoming behaviour abit done with trying to please all parties. this isn’t a rant or anything because there’s no real pressure on me it’s all percieved. being present on social media is part of this issue, seeing so many amazing artists all i can do is look at my own work and degrade myself for not being up to standard despite them being years older than me. especially with arcane coming out, a media i’ve been fixated on for almost 3 years, it made me so frustrated that i couldn’t produce anything with substance being so busy. it has been inspiring to see the creativity though, fandom culture is alive and kicking. thank you to everyone who has said nice things though, means a lot even if i can’t see it myself. not going away but scaling back, hopefully get over myself soon x

[thehollowwriter]

Summary: Slaving away in the bowels of Octavinelle as an anenome, Ace finds himself desperate to find a way out of his mess. Being put under the watch of a quiet Octavinelle second year thrusts an opportunity at Ace. Ace decides that, yes, Finn Clearcove would definitely be a help in this situation. It goes about as well as expected. (It does have a part 2, but I'll see how well this goes before rewriting that XD)

This is a rewrite of my first ever Finn fic, over a full year later. Please stick around to the end, I've got some special words for ya'll. (Here's the original, but pls don't look DON'T LOOK it's embarrassing/hj) Art for banner by @authoruio

Warnings: Swearing, forced labour, mentions of blood, that's about it Word count: 5239

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤️)

Anenome-Free Gaurauntee! (Hopefully)

Ace Trappola had fucked up. Now, this may seem unsurprising to most. Ace could never keep himself out of trouble. Whether it be running his mouth mouth or acting brashly, his actions often landed him in hot water.

This time, though, Ace had really fucked up.

The ghastly purple and blue anenome protruding from his head like some vile fungus was the bane of his existence. Not only did it look ridiculous and showcase his failures to anyone with a pair of eyes, but it turned him into a living puppet that bastard Azul could pull and contort as he pleased.

Ace was so confident when he made that contract. He never once thought he'd be kissing his freedom goodbye when he scrawled his signature onto that damning page.

Ugh, if only he'd known how many other poor souls had also made contracts and that he wouldn't have a chance. Maybe then he wouldn't be in this mess.

"Or maybe you wouldn't be in this mess if you didn't make a contract at all and asked Riddle for help or something." Yuu had said pointedly, and Ace could only groan in frustration and regret.

Now, Ace was standing in the VIP room in front of Azul's polished and tidy desk, wondering why he had been called here.

He didn't do anything wrong, did he? Floyd wasn't going to squeeze him again, was he? Oh no, anything but that, his ribs still hurt from last time-

"Don't look so terrified," Azul said, his smooth, suave voice laced with amusement. "You haven't done anything wrong. This time. But you're cutting it awfully close. I decided it would be best that I be generous and warn you that you're riding a fine line, Trappola. Your next punishment will be much harsher if you continue fighting against paying your dues. You're almost worse than the Savanaclaw anenomes."

There was a brief silence, and Ace quickly nodded, his gut tightening as he wondered what could possibly be even harsher than what was already dished out.

Azul checked his watch. "Your break ends soon. You best get going. But while I have you here, I'll let you know we're holding an event to commemorate the sports tournaments this weekend. Further details will be announced in time, but Floyd will be playing for the second year's, and Jade will be working front of house. You," Azul pointed at Ace with his cane. "Will be in the back because I can not have your abysmal attitude ruining the experience for the guests."

"Wait," Ace spluttered. "I have basketball games on the weekend too, I can't-"

"Your games are midmorning." Azul interrupted calmly. "You can work in the afternoons and evenings."

"But I'll be exhasuted-"

"Then you're lucky to be working in the kitchens and not running around for customers. Aren't I just so benevolent?" Azul's smile was stupidly smug as he spoke. "Of course, you will need someone watching you and the others while Jade and Floyd are absent. Hmm, I think Finn should be up to the task. He can keep you all in check."

"Who?" Ace blurted. Finn? Who was Finn? The name was vaguely familiar, but there were so many students in Night Raven that it could be anybody.

"Finn Clearcove. One of my second years."

As Ace eyed Azul wearily, that feeling of recognition sparked again.

Finn Clearcove. He'd heard that name before. When did-

Ah. Ace remembered now. When he and the others were helping Yuu and Grim investigate the strange freak accidents orchestrated by Savanaclaw, Finn was one of the students on their list of possible targets.

They found him in the library, reading silently in a dark corner. Ace almost couldn't believe that such a tiny, though definitely not light, guy was on their list at all. Sure, the dorm leader was small too, but he carried himself in a way that demanded respect and let you know he was powerful. This guy didn't give that vibe at all.

Their attempts at talking to Finn failed drastically as Finn's piercing eyes stared right through them, and he told them into to leave in a way that hinted at consequences if they did not listen.

Ace didn't really think about Finn after that. Finn wasn't scary, and he didn't do or say anything particularly striking, like the twins or Jack did.

Now, though, Ace's mind was running a mile a minute, trying to scrape up any other memories of Finn that may have been buried under other things weighing on his mind. Nothing.

What was Finn like? Was he as bad as the twins? Did he also relish in people's suffering? Did he play around with the emotions of others, too? ...Did he need a stepstool when getting stuff from a shelf?

Ace was drowning in these thoughts even as Azul ushered him out of the VIP room and back to work, forcing him to slave away under the watchful eyes of the twins until the skies turned dark.

Ace collapsed into bed, exhausted and woke up sluggish and filled with dread. Although he was confident in his skills, the damn anenome prevented him from practising when he wanted and left him tired and grumpy even when he did have time.

Unsurprisingly, this affected his gameplay. Cut to the aftermath of that morning's game and...they lost horribly. Sure, NRC lost a lot anyways, but even as Ace wiped sweat from his forehead and chugged down water, his heart was pounding in a mix of exertion and fury at the fact that the damn anenome made this loss worse than it ever could have been.

He made so many dumb mistakes. Mistakes a beginner would make! It pissed him off and embarrassed him to no end. And that wasn't even covering the fact that the stupid thing sticking out of his head was visible for all to see! They kept pointing and laughing at it!

Ace's mood was sour, and a storm cloud might as well have spawned above his head as he got changed and stomped to Mostro Lounge.

Somehow, Ace's heart managed to sink further when he saw just how many people were there. Not just students but families who came to watch the games. Parents, siblings, extended family, the whole place was packed to the brim.

When Ace arrived at the kitchen doors, Azul and Finn were already there, quietly conversing with each other.

Ace couldn't hear what they were saying, but he wouldn't have cared anyway because he was too busy biting back a snort at the sight of Finn. The guy was even smaller than Ace remembered, probably shorter than Epel.

Finn's face was set in a blank, unreadable expression as he quietly listened to what Azul was saying and occasionally murmured a reply. The conversation came to an end when Azul caught sight of Ace and that enraging smile spread onto his face.

"Ah, Ace, I see you're on time for once. Good." He said. "Finn, this is Ace Trappola. You'll need to keep an extra eye on him today and tomorrow, I'm afraid."

Finn nodded but didn't say anything in reply. He gazed silently at Ace with bright, light purple eyes that would make one think of an amethyst stone.

Ace met Finn's gaze and was suddenly overcome with such an overwhelming feeling of dread it startled him.

Azul must have noticed because he smirked and said, "I'm sure you'll behave, Ace." And left.

Ace didn't answer, still locked in some kind of weird staring contest with this tiny second year.

Finn suddenly turned and motioned for Ace to come inside the kitchens, where the other anenomes had already started working; preparing ingredients, cooking, washing dishes, and more.

Finn pulled a kitchen uniform from the small rack near the entrance and began putting it on, then pointed to where a Pomefiore student was frantically washing an ever growing pile of dishes consisting of both kitchen equipment and dishes from the Lounge itself.

"You're on dish duty, Mister Trappola." He said, and Ace realised this was the first time he'd ever heard him speak since the library encounter. His voice was so soft that Ace almost didn't hear it, but it was firm and commanding all the same. Sharp teeth just barely poked out from his lips. Was he like the twins?

Ace nodded and forced a smile, goosebumps rippling across the skin as he looked back at Finn. When he looked away to go and start on the dishes, the feeling of dread vanished.

Ace looked back at Finn. He caught his eyes, and while Finn gestured at him to get to work and feeling returned. Ace looked back to the dishes. The feeling vanished again.

Ace frowned. Weird.

"Get moving, Trappola!" Finn, well, it was too quiet to classify as a shout, so... called. He called, and Ace hurried to work.

Ace hated dish duty. There was always more than he could keep up with, but he didn't want anything to slip out of his hands and break, so he had to take it slower than he wanted. He was always hurried and run ragged, and then those damn twins would tell him he "missed a few spots" and make him do it all again.

Ace much preferred working front of the house, charming customers, and carrying drinks and food to and fro.

Well, at least he could see the rest of the kitchen from here since his station was at the back and out of the way. Ace found himself focusing on Finn.

For someone with such chubby fingers, Finn was nimble and efficient with knives. He wielded them with an ease and familiarity that only came from years of experience.

Though Finn was small and soft-spoken, the anenomes and other staff listened to him whenever he gave those quiet but firm commands.

Some anenomes were stubborn, but Finn's withering stare got them to shut right up. If they continued to resist, well, a harsh tug on the blue and purple monstrosities on their heads was enough pain to get them in line.

Ace wondered if he missed something because, sense of dread aside, Finn was pretty hard to take seriously with the way he strained his neck to look someone in the eyes and how he needed a step stool to grab anything a bit far off the ground and the way the buttons of his uniform seemed ready to snap right off with the way it strained against his middle.

When break came around, Ace was ready to bolt and embrace his brief moment of respite when he realised the room wasn't completely empty.

Finn remained alone in the kitchen and busied himself with making two cups of tea and a small snack.

"Pretty sure we aren't allowed to do that." Ace commented. "We have to bring our own stuff. Azul's gonna take that out of your pay, you know."

There was a long stretch of silence before Finn quietly said; "It's for Jade and Azul."

Ace furrowed his brows. "Why? Are you like their assistant or something?"

Finn didn't reply. Ace decided to take that as either a yes or a maybe. He watched Finn disappear into the VIP room, where he didn't come out until the very end of the break.

When Finn returned to start prepping for the next slew of orders, Ace found himself paying a little closer attention to him and his appearance.

Well, he didn't see anything new at first. Just the same details as before. Finn was very short, very chubby, and had curly green hair pulled back into a painfully tight bun. His eyes were like shining lilac amethyst gemstones, the colour only accentuated by the... dark circles under them.

Huh. Ace didn't notice that before. Now that he really looked, though, Finn looked really exhausted. He didn't really show it in his actions or voice, but it was prominent in his eyes.

"Work, Trappola." Finn hissed, and Ace nearly jumped out of skin. How had Finn noticed? Nevermind, he had to get to work before he got in trouble.

The rest of the night went by surpsingly quickly, the pace becoming calmer as the number of customers dwindled and the sky darkened.

At 9pm, Mostro Lounge closed its doors to customers. At 11pm, Ace was finally allowed to leave now that every bit of cutlery, crockery, and cooking utensils were cleaned and packed away, and the work surfaces and tables were wiped down, and the floor was swept and mopped until the place was sparkling clean.

Ace was the last anenome to leave, exhaustion from his game and full day of working slowing him down.

However, before he left, Ace paused at the doors when he realised Finn was still there, bringing tea to the VIP room.

"You do know that Azul's not gonna pay you overtime or give you special treatment for doing all that, right?" He called. "Your shift's over."

Finn stopped walking and glanced at Ace, his usually deadpan face crinkling to form an irritated expression. "We don't tolerate loitering, Mister Trappola. Leave."

Ace felt a sudden spike of pain at the base of his anenome and laughed nervously. "Hah, right. Yeah, I'll go. You keep doing... whatever you're trying to do." He said, backing away and out of the Lounge.

When he was out of sight, Ace heard the door to the VIP room open and close.

Just how long was Finn going to be in there this time? What was he doing in there? It didn't take an entire half-hour break to give someone tea.

...Well, going out of your way to make someone tea when you aren't obligated to is pretty nice.

Ace sighed. Poor Finn. If he wasn't an assistant or trying to gain something like Ace first thought, and instead acting out of the kindness of his heart or whatever, then the shortstack was in for a nasty surprise. Azul would take full advantage of someone like that.

The next day was Finn's second and last day of watching over Ace and the other anenomes. It passed by without incident, more or less the same as the previous one.

After Finn's time there ended, and things returned to normal, Ace found himself paying attention to his presence anytime he noticed him.

He wasn't too sure why. Maybe it was that sense of dread. It did pique Ace's curiosity. He's never experienced something like that. Maybe it was Finn's unusual dedication to the finely dressed tyrants that made Ace's life hell.

Whatever the reason, Ace's observations carried on enough for him to recognise Finn had a routine that repeated day in and day out, a routine that he rarely broke from.

Finn was always at the lounge early, before any of the other staff or anenomes arrived, either talking to Azul and the twins or beginning prep for the upcoming shift.

He worked quietly and efficiently at the bar, which seemed to be his usual workstation (how had Ace not noticed him before?), methodically mixing drinks and avoiding people's eyes. He rarely spoke aside from a passing word or two to customers and co-workers.

In his brief moments of respite, when he had nothing to make, Finn would close his eyes and listen to the live band always performing at Mostro Lounge, or gaze out the large glass wall into the sea of vibrant corals and fish with a tired, melancholy expression. Or at least, that's what Ace guessed it was, Finn's face still looked more or less the same as always.

When Finn's break came around, he would busy himself with making tea (the number of cups depended on if either of the twins were there or not), then disappear into the VIP room until his break ended.

And that wasn't all. Even when Finn didn't have a shift, Ace would occasionally spot him around. Most of his time would be spent in the VIP room if he did show up, unless there was a "client" seeing Azul.

When he left, sometimes his clothes would look just a bit ruffled, and other times, his face would look just a little pink. Weird.

Ace wouldn't dream of giving a fraction more of his time to those bastards outside of what he was forced to give. He couldn't imagine willingly going in there in his free time (that is, if Finn was willing at all), but it seemed Finn didn't stop there.

Sometimes, but very rarely, Ace would catch sight of Finn having lunch with Azul and the terror twins at the cafeteria. His plate would be piled high with food, and he'd quietly eat while the other three spoke.

Finn would join in from time to time, but he only really seemed to say a word or two. Sometimes, he'd even laugh. At least Ace assumed that's what it was, if Finn covering his mouth with his hand as his shoulders shook slightly and his eyes crinkled was anything to go by. Ace wondered what they were talking about.

It was... weird. Watching Finn. Ace couldn't for the life of him figure out if Finn was a secret addition to Octavinelle's infamous trio, or some poor soul somehow forced into the role of assistant or secretary and made to follow them around.

"Is Finn... always around those three?" Ace asked another Octavinelle student during his break, gazing at the firmly shut door to the VIP room. He wasn't a creep, he wasn't going around following Finn everywhere he went! He barely knew anything about him!

The third year he was talking to shrugged. "Not always. But Finn's been hovering around them since they arrived together in their first year. No idea what he could want with them, nor do I care.. He's a weird little creep that keeps to himself, and I'm happy with that as long as he doesn't come near me."

Ace glanced back at them to ask another question but stopped when he saw them holding their hand out expectantly.

Ace growled a curse word and dug through his pockets to slap a few madol in their hand. He didn't say anything, though. It was on him for asking something from an Octavinelle student. However, he didn't entirely regret it.

Finn Clearcove was definitely... close to Azul, Jade, and Floyd in some weird way. Ace wouldn't go so far as to say they're friends, but they weren't simply strangers or acquaintances either. Ace knew Azul would rather die than let just anyone enter the VIP room as they please. There were also a few occasions when Ace witnessed Finn sway Azul's opinion in one way or another or convince him to do something.

However, Ace swore he saw Finn with Azul's study guide once. He would have thought Finn was actually an anenome too, but the second year was very much lacking the presence of an anenome on his head.

The best guess Ace could venture was that Finn worked for those three, running around like a personal assistant making tea and everything, and being run so ragged he had eyebags.

Ace mulled over all he had learned, and then, well, an idea began to form. Would it work? He had absolutely no idea. Probably not. But it was worth a shot to get out of this hell.

Trying to convince Finn to help get rid of the anenome shouldn't end too badly... right?

***

After another gruelling half shifted at Mostro Lounge, Ace sacrificed the momentary relief that was his break to instead stop Finn before he could leave with his teatray to enter the VIP room.

Finn was busy fixing a pot of tea as always when Ace came into the kitchen.

"Hey, Finn!" Ace said, coming over to stand next to him. Finn didn't reply, simply busying himself with placing the teapot onto the silver serving tray with the teacups and their matching saucers and the milk and the sugar.

Ace frowned.

"Finn! Hello, I want to talk to you!"

Finn continued to ignore him. Ace reached out to tap his shoulder, but what whatever he was going to do or say next was interrupted by Finn suddenly grabbing his hand and wrenching it back before he could even react.

Finn clutched his wrist so tight it hurt. Ace yelped and tried to pull back, but the older boy's grasp was far stronger than expected.

Finn's eyes seemed to pierce right through him, and that horrible sense of dread came crashing down on him once more.

Ace paled. One of the reasons for Finn's placement on the list of Savanaclaw's potential targets sprang forth, finally clambering free from its place buried underneath other memories.

"He has a knack for spotting weakness."

"Mister Trappola," Finn said slowly. He didn't loosen his hold. His knuckles started turning white. "I'm busy. What do you want?"

"I, uh-" Ace swallowed before continuing, deciding his freedom was worth the shortstack's wrath. "I wanted to- to ask if you could do something for me."

Finn's expression didn't change, but there was a brief flicker of interest in those creepy, iridescent eyes. "If you want something, Azul-"

"No!" Ace snapped. Then he took a deep breath and continued again. "No. Stop with the Azul advertising! Please? I want a favour from you, Finn."

For a good few minutes, there was no reply. Ace would say Finn was in a state of disbelief, but it was impossible to tell.

Finally, Finn raised an eyebrow and looked Ace up and down, then said; "Is that so?" In a tone that almost made Ace take his words back. "Well, what do you want, then? I want to leave while the tea's still hot."

To emphasise his point, Finn gently tapped on the teapot with his pointer finger.

"Uh, right. So, you and Azul seem to hang around each other an awful lot. He must trust you quite a bit, right?" Ace said quickly, silently cursing at himself as every single word came out the entirely wrong way than intended. "Well, I mean, of course he must, you're always in that VIP roon of his and- and you've changed his mind about a few things more than once. That's quite impressive, right? A guy like him doesn't seem interested in what other people have to say, unless-"

"Get on with it, Trappola." Finn interrupted, his soft voice cutting clean through Ace's own much louder one somehow.

"Right, sorry. What I'm saying is, you and Azul have some weird situation going on, and I won't pretend to understand it at all, but I do understand enough to ask that perhaps you would have mercy on this poor freshman and convince the boss man to get rid of this anenome early..?"

Finn blinked at him, and for once, Ace could actually read his expression. Disbelief. 'Better than anger, I guess..?'

"You want me to... what?"

"Get rid of this anenome!" Ace repeated, a little louder. "I can't stand being a puppet! I want this damn thing off my head! Look, I'll even help you get out from under Azul's thumb yourself in return, just please get it off!"

Finn crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Ace, contemplating his words. Something... shifted in his eyes, though Ace couldn't really describe what it was.

On the inside, Finn wanted to laugh. He didn't know Ace all that well. Their interactions were few, and conversations, fewer. He didn't like Ace and didn't care to spend much more time around him than he needed to.

Now, though... now, he had an interesting opportunity presented to him, an opportunity in the form of an overworked and desperate freshman who did not seem to understand that the person he was talking to was not some sucker contorted to Azul's whims.

"Fine. I'll humour you. You want me to question my own housewarden for you, then? Me, not even the vice housewarden, asking Azul Ashengrotto to free a stubborn little first year from the terms of his own contract? The 'payment' you just offered me?" Finn made a noise that sounded far too much like a haughty scoff for Ace's liking. "That is bottom of the barrel scrap. For what you want me to do, I just might take your services for myself."

"I can do that!" Ace squawked, trying and failing not to sound as desperate as he felt. "As long as I'm not slaving away for that guy, I don't care!"

Finn regarded him with a bemused expression.

"And why would I want that?" He asked. "You slack off and put up a fight, Mister Trappola. Why would I agree to this when I could make the same deal with someone more obedient?"

"I- Well, I- I'll listen to you!'

Finn cocked his head to the side. "Can you prove it?"

"Yeah! If you just give me a chance, then I'll-"

"A trial period, then?" Finn asked, humming thoughtfully as Ace frantically nodded his head. "That's not a bad idea. How about this. I'll give you, ah, about a month. Do what I ask of you, and if you behave and meet my expectations, we'll negotiate further terms from there, and I'll see if I can convince Azul to release you. Deal?"

"D- wait. Do I have to do all that on top of my work as an anenome?"

Ah, so he wasn't that stupid, then. Finn hummed. "Yes. I won't be unreasonable, but you will be giving up more of your free time. Of course, whether it's something worth giving up is up to you."

Ace went quiet, quite an unusual thing for someone like him, as he pondered his options. Although Yuu was confident they could somehow find a way to get rid of the anenome, Ace wasn't too sure. He certainly couldn't get rid of it himself, and Jade and Floyd weren't going to help him unless a miracle happened.

The other anenomes and Octavinelle students didn't want to risk coming under fire, and his own dorm leader was a bit too enthusiastic at the idea of him suffering the consequences of his actions. The professors seemed uninterested in doing anything about Azul at all.

That just left... Finn. Ace could either A. Slave away until Azul completed his education at Night Raven, losing sleep and energy and the will to live, or B. Slave away while also doing things for Finn for one month, and if he impressed Finn enough then maybel he'd have a chance of losing his anenome and just doing stuff for Finn, who was quite notably not running an entire cafe, instead. Ace much preferred those odds, slim as they were.

Ace looked back at Finn, wincing at those piercing eyes, and nodded. "Deal."

There was a brief pause, and Ace became painfully aware of the fact that Finn still hadn't let him go.

"Uh-" Ace pulled, though it was futile against Finn's iron grip. "You can let me go now-"

Finn tightened his hold and pulled Ace down so they were eye level. "We're not leaving it at that, Mister Trappola." He hissed. "Hold still."

Ace couldn't bite down the shriek of surpise and mild pain that left him as Finn's free hand scratched at his skin with nails that seemed a little longer than they were before. A tiny droplet of blood bloomed on the surface of his skin, red against peach.

"Ow, what the hell-"

"Shut up." Finn growled. He swiped the droplet away with his pointer finger so that it stained his own skin. Then, he began to... well, Ace wasn't too sure what it was doing, but it looked like he was drawing a picture in the air.

Ace opened his mouth to ask Finn what the hell he was doing, but his mouth clicked shut as sparks of scarlet began to appear before his very eyes.

Ace watched in silent awe as Finn began to draw a circle of scarlet around the spot where he gripped Ace's wrist, then drew some weird symbols Ace couldn't recognise inside that circle

The pentragram-sigil-glyph-thing?- hovered like that, quivering. It made Ace feel a bit nauseous just looking at it.

Finn murmured something too quiet for Ace to hear, and the cursed circle thing pulsed, then disappeared.

"What..." Ace almost couldn't find his words for a moment. When Finn finally released his grip, the card soldier cradled his aching wrist . "What the hell was that?! That's no magic I've ever seen!"

"That," Finn said slowly, feeling the side of the teapot and frowning. "Is a binding. To ensure you keep your word. I don't make contracts like Azul."

"Is that some kind of second year spell I haven't heard about?" Ace's mouth was moving almost immediately. "Ugh, I knew my brother was hiding some cool kooky stuff from me-"

"No." Finn's curt response stopped Ace short and blinked at Finn.

"No?"

"No." Finn repeated. "You won't learn that here."

"Where did you learn that, then?"

Finn said nothing, and Ace, upon realising he wouldn't be getting a response, instead asked, "What does that do, exactly?"

"I just told you, it ensures you keep your word," Finn replied, tapping his pen against the teapot to reheat the now lukewarm water.

Ace furrowed his brows, tracing over the bruises Finn left on his poor wrist, red slowly turning purplish.

"What happens if... if I don't?"

Finn put his pen away and tilted his head at Ace. Then, he smiled. His teeth, still not fully visible to Ace, gleamed in the light. It was an... unnerving sight. Ace wasn't sure if he had ever seen Finn smile before. If this was his smiles really looked like then, well, he understood why.

"I don't think it'll come to that." Finn said softly. "But if it does... you'll be wishing you never spoke to me at all. Now, off you go. You've wasted enough of my time."

Ace hesitated for a moment, but the dull aching of his wrist was a good reminder to listen. He scrambled for the door, mumbling his goodbyes, and vanished into the fray of staff and customers beyond the kitchen.

He leaned against the wall in one of the furthest corners of the lounge, panting a little from his run. As he tried to calm down and tried to collect himself for the next shift that was bound to start soon, he wondered if he had perhaps made a mistake of some kind.

Unbeknownst to Ace, Azul Ashengrotto was leaning against the doors to the kitchen, smiling at Finn with that sharp smile only Azul was capable of.

"When I noticed you hadn't come, I didn't expect to find you terrorising poor Ace." He said without a hint of sympathy. "What a magnificent display, Finn. I didn't realise you finally got that binding spell right."

Finn laughed. "Hah, no. That's far too advanced for me. Papa's helped best he can, but I'm not quite there yet. Doesn't matter, though, Mister Trappola seems quite convinced it's real, and that's good enough for me. Besides, it wasn't all for show."

Finn held up the hand he'd been grasping Ace with, a large smile spreading onto his face and displaying all his teeth to his unflinching housewarden and... partner.

"I have a new voice now."

-End

...........................................

Super Special Author's Note: Over a year ago, on November 14th 2023, I wrote a story for my twst oc Finn. That's nothing too surprising, I like to write stories for my characters, after all. What did surprise me was how it all snowballed into where I am today, with so many wonderful moots and friends I never thought I'd meet, as well as their wonderful ocs I never thought I'd get to know.

It's been a pleasure to interact and draw and write with everybody, and I hope we're able to do all the more in the next coming year. Thank you everybody for caring so much about my skrunklies and getting to know me. You all mean so much to me.

Quinn <3

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @inotonline

@1dont-really-know @kazumify @minteasketches @elysia-nsimp @skrimpyskimpy

@casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @tixdixl @poisoned-pearls @the-trinket-witch

@ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts @sillyslipperybananapeel @cloudcountry

@skriblee-ksk @twstinginthewind @lumdays @theolivetree123 @natsukishinomiyaswife

@authoruio @jewelulu @raguiras @honeynclove @moonyasnow

@skibidibabygirl @paperclvps @quartztwst @yuizenihaswriten @devosin

@yourlocalyin @sillyfull-jua

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 20.

Summary: The evening of the Arts Collective dinner somehow gets even worse for you as Farleigh gives you some unfortunate news about Oliver and Venetia and their moonlight exploits. The worst part is having to figure out a way to break the news to Felix.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: angst, mentions of childhood/ongoing parental neglect.

A/N: 3729 words. I finally cracked it!! Figured out the ending!! Sorry for the delay I was busy writing 20k about Jacob Elordi being hot and mean which I will never publish (Euphoria, a show I STILL have not watched beyond like 20 minutes of clips on YouTube lol). Anyways I've missed you and these characters and hopefully 21 won't be too far away xx (also I started my new job so that's been exciting but also Ooft ouch my bones hurt)

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

For a day that was already pretty damn shit, Oliver's cruelty was like salt in the wound. Hand still on the doorknob after you close it, you listen to him retreating over the ringing in your ears. If you let go, you'll see your hands shake, so you're frozen, heart in your throat, the house growing quiet around you. It's familiar, but unwelcome in this moment.

Tears well in your eyes as you sit back at the desk, computer humming pleasantly, bathing you in a cool glow. Part of you was desperate to run after him, to oblige him, to reveal every inch of your past and soul to him, hoping he was true to his word. That he could actually care about you in a way that very few have ever bothered to. That he could love you the way Felix did.

I don't know you.

An even stronger part of you wanted to run right across the hall, to bury yourself beneath the covers of your bed, safe and waiting for Felix. Surely he'd be back soon, if Oliver's return indicated anything. You hadn't heard him return, but it wouldn't be long. But how were you meant to look at him, lie next to him, even touch him, after all of that. It had been easy to bite your tongue on your disappointment so far, knowing that like so many others, Oliver's love for you thus far had been merely as a proxy for Felix himself. You knew Felix was vaguely aware that that was how others sometimes viewed you, but you'd always been eager to assure him that as long as he genuinely cared about you, and the others were good to you, you'd be more than happy.

And that used to be true. But none of the others were Oliver. Felix knew you loved the boy just as genuinely as he was coming to, you could never tell him that your affections were not as genuinely returned.

Your pride held you hostage in this room on both accounts.

When you finally raise your head from your hands, scrubbing unspilled tears from your eyes, you try and focus yourself once more on rereading the email that had already put you in a foul mood before Oliver had made it worse. It had taken all afternoon to detach yourself from it's contents, especially knowing your mother was waltzing about the grounds, spoiling your sanctuary.

The details of an official nondisclosure agreement, sent from your parents' team of lawyers. The paperwork was to arrive in the next few days, but you were being warned ahead of time. Before Oliver had interrupted, you were finally getting to the point of finding it all funny, that they were that insistent on cutting social ties with you that they'd go to almost any lengths that remained discrete, and out of the general public's reach. Now it just... ached.

Felix's heavy footsteps echo through the long gallery outside your study door, but he heads straight into bed. You wonder if it's even worth it to head to bed that night, you can't see yourself getting much sleep.

Now mostly, tragically, sober after you'd spent the afternoon trying to get out of your mind to cope with the day, you wonder if a drink would help put you to sleep, put an end to this abysmal day you'd endured. Which is how Farleigh finds you in the Blue Room, frowning at the bottle of liquor you'd left in the broken piano.

"You're up late," you mused flatly, still trying to decide if it was worth it to drink until you pass out in your study, "how was the -"

"We need to talk," Farleigh's tone is even more irate than you'd expected. Neither he nor the Catton siblings were ever in a particularly bright mood after being forced into any kind of proximity with your mother, and you were always touched by their loyalty, but this was something else.

You lower the piano lid, leaving the liquor for the time being. Turning to look at Farleigh, it's almost shocking to see how dark the look in his eyes was.

"What... happened?" You asked slowly. Farleigh's gaze flicks to the door behind you, to the long gallery and to the entrance to both yours and Oliver's bedrooms. Prying eyes, listening ears, though you were almost certain you'd heard Oliver leave not too long ago. A muscle in Farleigh's jaw twitches, and you instead offer your study for some privacy.

"You're not going to like it," is the first thing Farleigh tells you once the study door is closed. He sounds furious. Turning off your computer monitor, you choose to sit yourself on the sofa by the window, looking at him expectantly.

"This day's been a fucking nightmare already, I'm sure I can handle it," you rolled your eyes. Farleigh, however, chooses to sit at your desk, sideways on the chair, rather than joining you.

"You told Oliver not to fuck around with Venetia, didn't you?" It's unsettling to see Farleigh so serious. Still, his words have something twisting in your gut, even as you tried to play it off.

"Of course I did."

"Then tell me why I saw them practically eating each other on the front fucking lawn."

It's like you can feel the moment your blood turns to ice in your veins.

"This isn't funny," your lip curls, but Farleigh's severity remains, "this is a sick fucking joke, Farleigh, and a shitty thing to try and pull today of all goddamn days," your voice is rising, but he lets your fury build, uninterrupted.

"It would be an awful joke," he agreed, "if I was joking." All of the hopelessness that had plagued you since Oliver had left began to crystalise, calcifying into rage as his words settled in, "I don't care about Oliver," Farleigh's gaze shifted for a moment, still tense and furious, but there was something very nearly apologetic in his next words, "but unfortunately for me and for you right now, I care about you and Felix."

"Felix." Oh God. This couldn't be happening again. You'd told Oliver; you'd warned him. The fucking nerve!

"Yeah," Farleigh mutters quietly, "and you're going to be the one to tell him." When you try and protest, you're met with a sharp glare, and a stern reminder of how this exact situation had been reversed only twelve months ago over Eddie, "I'm not doing that again," Farleigh warned, "you owe me."

"Fine," you spit, "fuck, I'll tell him," hands shaking, you light up a cigarette. Farleigh stands, but hovers by your desk for a moment.

"He really knows how to pick them," He muses flatly.

"Shocking taste in men," scowling our of the window, your agreement is nonetheless irate, "fucking unbelievable," you hissed under your breath, "and he thinks there's something wrong with me?"

"There is," Farleigh's words surprise you, stinging a little, all things considered, "you fell for that stupid, little boy too," he reminds with a particularly vicious look.

"So it's my fault I have to break Felix's heart?"

"I'm saying that you've given me a lot of attitude for not liking him, but Oliver wouldn't even be here without both of you."

"Get the fuck out of my study, Farleigh," you order, pointing at the door, cigarette in hand and fury in your eyes.

The anger bubbling in your gut is beginning to burn. A thousand things are racing through your mind; top of the list is wondering just how quickly you make sure he's never welcomed back at Oxford. All you'd need was your computer and an hour to ruin Oliver Quick's entire life; you'd done it before. But if you turned that monitor on, if you had to once again look at that fucking email from your family - not even your family, their lawyers! - you think you might throw up. Tomorrow, with a clear head, you'd make your move.

And you'd tell Felix. No need to wake him now, give him a few hours to still live in the fantasy where the boy he was falling in love with wasn't once again going after his sister. Fuck- Venetia.

The more you thought about it all the more frenzied your outrage became. She wasn't innocent in this either, she never was. Venetia Catton was more than adept at finding both yours and her brother's exact pressure points and pressing with vehemence. So desperate to be loved yet so unable to come across as anything but insatiable, she'd always taken what she could get. You were good, but clearly you weren't enough to distract her from new, shiny Oliver.

The taste of smoke sticks to your teeth, as does your sour contemplation on how little the people you tried to love respected you. Or Felix. Christ, how were you meant to tell Felix?

Except you can't even really begin to contemplate how you'll break the news when you hear footsteps across the gallery.

Felix doesn't even knock - not that he ever has - before he lets himself in. You thought you'd have more time; the anger still burns white-hot inside of you, but despair and guilt flickers at the edges. He looks about as rough as you feel, concern and ebbing irritation in his expression. Of course, he'd spent the evening in the presence of your mother; none of the others ever felt nearly as much ire in her presence as he did.

Without a word, he strides across the room, all but pouting, and throws himself onto the sofa beside you. Drawing his legs up onto the sofa, he makes himself as small as possible - quite a task considering his size compared to the small, squashy sofa - and leans against you, head on your shoulder.

"Hate that woman," he hisses under his breath. You know he means your mother, but your mind is on his deceitful sister. All you can think about is Venetia and Oliver, but you can't very well tell Felix now. You don't have the words to not make everything so much worse if you tried. Already you'd decided to tell him in the morning, but right now you had to keep him from figuring out what was bothering you. Or that you were bothered at all.

So you decide to take a leaf out of Felix's own book, keep him happy and distracted in the way you knew best.

"Bad night?" Your voice is low as you move your arm back, fingers carding through his hair. The way Felix hums is still dark, but he shifts closer to you. After another moment of quiet, he huffs an irate breath out through his nose and begins to pluck at the hem of your shorts.

"Can I maim your mum the next time I see her?"

"She's not worth going to jail over," you tell him, leg shifting into his touch. Felix's hand stops fussing with your shorts to grip your thigh.

"You are," he huffs resolutely, and even despite your own anger you smile.

"My knight in shining armour," you laugh softly, lips against his forehead, "but do you really want to be so far away?" Leaning back against him, your hand moves from his hair to graze your nails down his bare arm, hoping he takes the hint. Thankfully, he does. The warm grip on your thigh tightens, and when he turns to look at you, there's something hungry in his eyes, "she's not worth your time, Fi," it comes out almost as a snarl, a truth you believe even in the depths of your own, otherwise mostly unrelated anger, but you turn your tone teasing, smirking at him, "I just choose to think about how I was apparently on your mind all night."

"I'm always thinking about you," he almost sounds a little breathless as he says it, managing to sit up more properly without moving away. You let your gaze flick to his lips before going back to look him in the eyes. Tongue darting out to wet your lips, you tilt your head very slightly, beginning to smile.

"And what are you think about me now?"

You'd always quietly loved whenever Felix was feeling possessive, and now moreso than ever. It made distracting him easy and fun, and Felix himself, his hands as he pulled you over to straddle his lap, to hold you close, to cradle your face as he kissed you so furiously, it was almost enough to distract you too. In all honesty, it was the only good thing to have happened all day, though even this was coloured by guilt, knowing what you still had to tell him when you found the right words.

However suddenly, Felix pulls back wearing a frown. For a few moments you find yourself catching your breath, confused, arms still around his neck.

"Something's wrong," it's not a question.

"Nothing's wrong," you lie, and hope it's more convincing them his usually are, "nothing at all," you hum, and move back in to press kisses to his jaw, hoping it's enough of a distraction to trail those kisses down his neck.

"You're angry about something," damn it. Of course Felix knows you too well.

"Am I?" You want to keep the ruse up for as long as you can manage, "and what would that be?" You murmured before you're sucking a beautiful, bruising hickey against his neck.

"I don't -" but his breath catches, grip on you tightening. It almost works; he swears faintly under his breath, losing himself in the moment and leaning into you, but then he actually seems to shake himself out of it, "come off it," he sighs, and you sit up, trying your best to appear both confused, and still in the mood, "if I'm not allowed to do this, neither are you." He says pointedly. Even though you're fighting a losing battle, you still lean in, still try and distract him with your mouth on his.

"Do what?" You murmur, nose to nose as you peck him quickly, desperately trying to keep your tone light and teasing. But you can see it in his eyes before he even says it; he knows exactly what you're doing.

"Distracting me because you know how fucking hot I think you are."

"And if I was," you murmured, pressing yourself against him, "why would that be such a bad thing?"

"Because you're being evasive," Felix pushed you back, held you at arm's length as your expression began to drop, fury beginning to creep back in as you remembered what exactly it is you didn't want to tell him, "you're not evasive with me;" he insists, "everyone else, sure, but this - whatever this is - is.. it's- it feels weird. This isn't you!"

"What am I then, Felix?"

"Mine!" He answered far too quickly, frustration sling out of him, but appears to catch himself, correcting to, "my best mate, alright? You don't not tell me things."

"So if there is something I'm not telling you, can you not trust that I might have a reason?" Finally your anger bursts from you, furious in the evening light. Felix has gone quiet, shocked; it's been a long time since you'd yelled at him like this. He looks wounded, apologetic, something you're not used to. Climbing off of him, you stand, you have to give yourself some distance from him, "there's a lot I don't tell you, Fi," you sighed, expression pinching as you tried to force yourself to calm down.

"You can tell me anything," Felix's voice has softened, leaning forward on the sofa. It aches to look at him, to see him so beautiful and vulnerable in these moments, "you know that."

"I know," you agreed, "it's not that I can't tell you, it's that I don't want to," you pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes, groaning; you can't look him in the eyes, can't even look at him right now, "and I will, that's the thing; I'm going to tell you, you're right, I always do, I just -" in a moment of weakness, your voice comes out almost sounding pitiful, defeated and frustrated, "I thought I had more time."

"What's wrong?" Felix asks softly. When you laugh, there's no humour in it. The more the reality of your situation sinks in, the more the fight leaves you.

"It's going to make you angry, or upset, or probably both," you sound rather helpless when you say it, but it seems like you no longer have a choice in when you get to tell him.

"Is it your mum?"

"I wish it was my mum," you shook your head, finally moving your hands to shake them out as you stepped back, leaning back against your desk with defeat. With every moment that passes you can feel Felix's gaze upon you, burning into you. When you are upset, he will never relent until he finds the source; usually it would be a gift, make you feel wanted and special and like you actually mattered for once. But this knowledge feels like a curse.

"We could run away," it's a last resort, barely more than a mutter as you look at your hands.

"What?"

"Just us," you continue, fidgeting, unable to look at Felix and the concern you knew you'd see in his eyes, "I could get us a little apartment in some artsy, London suburb," it's not going to work, not going to distract him, to keep him from prying the information from you that you know will hurt him, but it's all you have left, "you know nan would help us out, she'd kill for me. We could do whatever we wanted, never have to work a day in our lives. We could be whoever we wanted, wouldn't have to live in a house where they'd rather we die of heat stroke than ruin the wood panelling with an air conditioner," all you can think about is how you fell for a boy who didn't love you the way you hoped he would, and turned out couldn't even really respect you, "never have to go back to Oxford."

"What happened?" Standing, Felix crosses the short distance to your desk. There's so much sweetness in his voice as he sits in the desk chair beside you, looking up at you with his damn perfect brown eyes.

"I can't let this happen again, Fi," you hadn't even realised you were close to tears until it becomes harder to speak, "I tried, I fucking tried, I told him -"

"Who?"

"Ollie," you sniffled, face growing hot as you couldn't stop your tears from beginning to fall, "I warned him not to go near Venetia- I just- I can't believe she'd do this again, that Ollie couldn't respect when I ask him this one thing -"

"Ollie and Venetia?" There's an unsettling, blank quality to Felix's voice. The look in his eyes is far away and ice cold.

"Apparently hooking up on the front lawn," you clarified, voice weak, trying to wipe the tears from your eyes, derision edging it's way back into your voice as some of the anger returns, "for God, and Farleigh to bare witness," you took in a deep, shaking breath, attempting to pull yourself together, "I tried, Fi -"

"Fucking unbelievable," Felix snarls furiously, getting to his feet, "both of them- fuck, was Farleigh sure? He wasn't making some sick joke?"

"Even Farleigh wouldn't fuck with us like that," you muttered darkly, before adding, quiet, sounding actually pained with frustration, "I've been nothing but good to them, Fi, I thought -"

"You are never touching my sister again," Felix cuts you off firmly, voice forcibly calm. Surprised both by his tone and his words, you look up; he's so much closer than you'd realised The look in your best friend's eyes almost overwhelms you; protective, possessive, "I'm not watching her treat you like that anymore," he braces himself against the desk either side of you, crowding you against it.

"Fi," your barely manage a whisper, heartbeat racing in your chest, "I..." for just a moment he looks almost pained, and he hangs his head, faint, humourless laugh escaping him.

"I have to watch you fuck around with people who would barely give you the time of day; you're so fucking good it kills me sometimes," he bites out; you can't tell him that you know they're just using you, that so many people simply entertain the idea of you as a way to stay in Felix's life. Even if he'd never admit it, Felix knows. There's very little in his life that he's ever felt the need to reflect on, and even less that he feels any particular guilt about. You used to think he was fine with this arrangement, that he knew you could find the fun in these one-sided dynamics, "they're fucking using you," he grits out, but you're surprised by the way his fury almost sounds like despair, "I watch them and they're fucking using you like you're not even a person, Y/N."

Felix looks up; the looks in his eyes is more serious than you think you've ever seen from him. Deliberately, firmly, he takes your face in his hands.

"You're not my shadow, you know that, right?"

For a very long moment, you think you feel your heartbeat stop in your chest. On the surface it's a completely ridiculous question, except...

Feeling your face grow hot, you know he can see you tearing up; Felix has always known you better than anyone, always known exactly what you seem to need to hear. Nodding weakly, caught, pinned by his intense gaze, his focus on you, your lip trembles. Already fraught with emotions from the day, and the evening that had just passed, you have no fucking idea what to say. Felix has never spoken this out loud, never let himself properly wrestle with the subtext that coloured so much of your dynamic; it flickers across his face, the surprise and guilt and realisation as it hits him what he'd just said.

You are so much more to him than anyone else will ever give you credit for.

You are not his shadow, but you are unequivocally his.

So you kiss him.

[mtmpossession]

Someone New, Someone Better

Aaron Bradford, son of one of the wealthiest business owners in Australia, was the quintessential party boy. He was known for his excessive spending, luxurious travels, and extravagant dinners at the most expensive restaurants. He also had a penchant for collecting women, never shy about flaunting his good looks and charm. As Aaron traveled the world, he could often be seen behind the wheel of the latest car models or riding on expensive Vespas. His unique style and taste for the finer things in life made him stand out wherever he went.

Unfortunately, his father, Robert Bradford, was growing tired of Aaron's antics and lack of motivation to work for the family business. In a fit of exasperation, he decided to take matters into his own hands. He summoned his new intern, David Caballero, and gave him a simple yet important task: find Aaron and report back on his whereabouts.

David, eager to impress his new boss and hopefully move up the ranks, accepted the challenge with determination. He began his search for Aaron, tracking him down to a beach in Botany Bay. There, he found Aaron lounging on a beach towel, surrounded by a bevy of beautiful women. Aaron wore red shorts that accentuated his chiseled and muscular body, a sight that left David feeling both envious and a bit resentful.

As he watched Aaron lazily laugh with his entourage, David couldn't help but wonder why someone with such a charmed life would waste it away partying all the time. It was then that he felt a tug on his shirt. Startled, he turned around to find a mysterious old man standing behind him. The man wore a fedora and sunglasses, giving him an air of secrecy and intrigue.

"You must be David," the old man said in a gravelly voice. "I've been expecting you." He held out his hand, revealing a small wooden amulet in the shape of a boomerang. "Take this. It will help you achieve everything you desire."

David hesitantly took the amulet, his curiosity getting the better of him. "What do you mean, everything I desire?" he asked, feeling a strange energy emanating from the amulet.

"Oh, I think you know what I mean," the old man replied with a knowing smile. "But if you insist, let's just say that it's within your grasp now. Go on, use it. See what happens."

Before David could say anything else, the old man disappeared into the crowd. He stood there for a moment, the amulet in his hand, feeling both excited and apprehensive. He knew he should report back to Robert Bradford, but something about the amulet made him curious.

David closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He imagined himself in Aaron's shoes, living the life he always wanted but never thought he could have. The thought was intoxicating, and before he knew it, he found himself reaching out to touch the amulet. As soon as his fingers made contact with the wood, the world around him shifted.

When he opened his eyes, he saw the same beach in Botany Bay, but now he was the one lying on the beach towel, surrounded by beautiful women. He felt a surge of energy course through his veins as he realized that he was now in Aaron's body. His muscles ached with pleasure, and he could feel the heat of the sun on his skin. But more than that, he could sense the power that came with being Aaron Bradford.

David sat up, taking in the view of the ocean and the women surrounding him. He felt like he could do anything he wanted. He stood up, flexing his muscles, and threw his head back, letting out a roar of laughter. The women around him giggled and blushed, their eyes fixed on his chiseled chest and toned arms. He felt invincible.

He walked back to the beach house, a luxurious mansion that had been in the Bradford family for generations. The sand was warm and soft beneath his feet as he made his way inside. The house was filled with expensive art and antique furniture, a testament to the family's wealth and influence. He couldn't help but feel a sense of ownership as he walked through the halls, admiring the priceless works of art and the breathtaking views of the ocean from every room.

David made his way to Aaron's private quarters, his heart racing with anticipation. The bed was huge, with plush pillows and soft, satin sheets. On the nightstand was a crystal decanter filled with expensive scotch and a bowl of expensive, exotic cigars. He sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling a familiar ache growing in his groin. He reached down, undid his shorts, and freed his erection.

As he began to stroke himself, he couldn't help but feel a sense of power and control. It wasn't just about masturbating; it was about asserting his dominance over Aaron's body. He thought about all the things he could do now, all the women he could have, all the money and influence he could wield. The more he thought about it, the harder he got.

He imagined himself walking into a high-stakes business meeting, wearing one of Aaron's tailored suits, commanding the room with his presence. He could hear the respect and awe in everyone's voices as they addressed him as Mr. Aaron Bradford. He pictured himself making deals, forging alliances, and expanding the family's empire.

As he continued to stroke himself, he felt the familiar tightening in his balls and knew that he was about to cum. He groaned, his hips bucking as he shot thick ropes of semen across Aaron's abs. The hot liquid splattered against the defined muscles, leaving a sticky trail.He lay back on the bed, panting heavily, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. He looked down at his hand, still wrapped around his softening cock, and smiled. He couldn't believe he had just cum in Aaron's body. It was a feeling unlike anything he'd ever experienced before.

He stood up and walked over to the bathroom, opening the shower door. The warm water cascaded down his chest, washing away the remnants of his orgasm. He stepped into the shower, enjoying the feel of the water on his skin.

As he lathered up with Aaron's luxurious soap, he couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. He had successfully taken over Aaron's body, and now he was going to live the rest of the day as him. He grinned to himself, wondering what sort of mischief he could get into next.

After rinsing off, he reached for a towel and dried off. He then put on Aaron's favourite Grey joggers, feeling the soft fabric hug his legs. He admired himself in the mirror.

With a newfound confidence, he decided to take a selfie. He posed in front of the mirror, striking Aaron's signature smoldering look. He snapped the photo, and to his surprise, it actually looked pretty good. He couldn't believe he was able to pull off Aaron's charisma even like this.

5 months later:

David left his old life behind him and fully embraced his new identity. He threw himself into his work at the company, making sure to keep Robert happy and impressed. He made important connections, closed lucrative deals, and expanded the family's empire. It was as though he had been born to do this.

He found himself falling into the rhythm of Aaron's life, adapting to the luxurious lifestyle with ease. He began to understand the weight of responsibility that came with being the next in line of such a powerful family. He made sure to uphold Aaron's reputation, both in business and in the high society circles .

As time passed, David felt more and more at home in Aaron's body. He even began to think of himself as Aaron, as if he had always been this person. The memories of his old life seemed distant and hazy, like a dream from another lifetime. He had truly become someone new, someone better.

[jnnul]

the right side of wrong. (part one)

TAGS ▸ violence (fighting, blood, general superhero warnings), warnings vary per chapter, uhh like trauma but it's not gone into super deeply, lots of mentions of isolation and manipulation, young justice au!, nightwing!sunghoon, there is a vision here of sunghoon as nightwing and i want everyone to have it as well, superhero au

PLAYLIST ▸ yosemite - travis scott, back - jey, stay - ari abdul, element - pop smoke, dirty laundry - blackbear

WORD COUNT ▸ 11.4k

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i’ve fallen back into my superhero phase (which i’m always in, who am i kidding?) and everyone needs to understand my love for the found family + superhero trope. extremely self-indulgent and shamelessly fun to write! it’s a little different from what i usually write (college aus) so hopefully i do it justice (haha get it). part one out of eight-ish parts! quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!

TAGLIST ▸ @hybeboyenthusisast

[march 17, 20XX 6:32 p.m.]

[???]

ALL Y/N ARDOR FAUST CAN SEE IS ABSOLUTE DARKNESS. at first, she panics, grasping at air as she falls into despair when she realizes that she cannot manage to actually latch onto anything. no matter how much she tries to feel around for something - anything - she fails to do so, instead only managing to lose her balance in the nothingness. she knew that this would happen when she first devised her plan but she hadn’t known just how frightening it would be to escape.

escape. is that really what she was doing? or was she just painting the target on her back even larger? did it even matter anymore? if she couldn’t leave this place, she might as well give up. after all, once they found her, it didn’t really matter whether she would have escaped or not. no one would live to tell the story of the girl who escaped a prison with no exits.

she vaguely registers that someone is screaming and she wants to tell them to stop, that they were blowing her cover and that she definitely wouldn’t be able to escape if they kept screaming. it was too loud. too loud!

only when her vision clears does she realize that the person who had been screaming had been herself.

[march 12, 20XX, 4:19 p.m.]

[mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

sunghoon park shifts uncomfortably as he watches black canary wipe superboy off of his feet. jay grunts as his body meets the ground, the sensors in the training ground floor sounding out a resoundingly depressing “SUPERBOY - LOSS” that echoes throughout the training chamber. even after three months of training, it seemed like none of them could really beat black canary when it came to martial arts.

and sunghoon was trained by batman, so that really meant something. canary and him were tied (32 - 32) and he had a feeling that wouldn’t change any time soon.

“nightwing? you want to run roll next?” canary asks, eyebrow cocked in challenge. sunghoon smiles, adjusting his mask before he steps onto the training ground, the sensors announcing “NIGHTWING - BLACK CANARY” as soon as he does.

“why? taking out our heavy hitter wasn’t enough?” sunghoon asks and canary scoffs as she hunches into a fighting stance, ready to pounce the moment he gave her a chance to do so.

“hey! i was distracted,” jay exclaims, thanking miss martian slightly when she offers him an ice pack. sunghoon doesn’t have the heart to remind her that jay was half-kryptonian and that ice packs didn’t really help him in healing as much as she thought they did but he doubted it would make much of a difference. soojin was just about head over heels in love with jay and vice versa - she could offer him kryptonite to heal him and jay would accept it happily because his loving girlfriend gave it to him. or something like that, at least.

“just like nightwing is,” canary says before lunging forward, slicing at sunghoon’s head before shifting her position to aim for his knee instead. sunghoon launches backwards before he even realizes what had happened.

“nightwing has also been training in mma since he was in diapers, practically,” kid flash, aka jake sim (aka one of sunghoon’s oldest and best friends), points out. even sunghoon’s body on autopilot, maneuvering and ducking out of black canary’s well placed traps, was a lethal force but sunghoon had no intentions of breaking the tie in canary’s favor.

“technically, superboy’s only five years old,” soojin points out and jake grimaces underneath his mask.

“do you want me to point out the moral flaws in you dating a technical five year old? even if he’s biologically 21?” jake asks and soojin lifts her arms in understanding.

“point taken.”

“glad to see that martians don’t take well to that either.”

“i don’t really think that anyone does, kid.”

“now that we’ve established that everyone in the milky way has the same moral compass, you gonna spar with me or what, nightwing?” canary says, smiling cattily (oh, the irony) before sweeping at sunghoon’s leg, grunting when he leaps gracefully.

“you’re right, canary. hate to keep you on your toes,” sunghoon says. and with that, he successfully is able to grab her left arm, catching her off balance and causing her to try to twist her body to keep from falling but sunghoon is too fast. he lets go of her before she can find something to latch onto, and canary fails to knock sunghoon off his feet before gravity wins out.

she falls to the ground in a somehow still graceful manner, the mat below them reading “NIGHTWING - WIN” as sunghoon helps her get back on her feet.

“you know i’m going to tie that score up again, right?” canary says, cocking her head to where the scoreboard (only the two of them had a score; nobody else really needed one against canary) now read 33 - 32 in nightwing’s favor.

“counting on it. it’s the prestige of the league and the team at hand, after all,” sunghoon laughs and canary flashes him a mildly amused smile before straightening up once more.

“i know that it’s not the justice league’s jurisdiction to comment on the team’s inner workings anymore but some of the leaguers have expressed a little concern at the fact that the team is not accepting new members at this time - especially considering the fact that there are heroes like blue beetle or bumblebee who have made a considerable impact without compromising their identities in team fashion.” black canary sighs, running a hand through her blond hair before shaking her head. “but it’s not the league’s responsibility to propose additions to the team - it’s yours. specifically, nightwing’s.”

sunghoon exchanges a look with jake before shrugging. “i can appreciate the league’s trust in the team and the…forward thinking to increase our numbers. but we’ve decided that we’re not going to even consider additions to the team unless we’re all here to decide together.”

“yeah. unless aqualad and artemis are here, we’re not really jumping at the chance to make any big decisions,” jake echoes, and sunghoon sees jay shrug when soojin nods.

“i figured as much but aqualad and artemis have been in action for a while. the decision is yours but it’s hard to operate a team when 1/3 of it is currently unavailable,” canary says.

“i think you’ll find that we’re more than capable of holding our own,” jake says, arms crossed against his chest. he’s about to say something else but a look from sunghoon calms him down and just shrugs when jay looks at him.

“i don’t doubt it. but it’s just a suggestion from our own experience,” canary says, leaning over to pick up her previously discarded jacket, shrugging it over her shoulders.

“thanks. we’ll keep it in mind.” there’s no room for questioning in sunghoon’s voice in the way that he speaks but black canary appreciates the formality he carries nonetheless.

“alright. well. it’s up to you guys. i’m headed out but let me know if any of you need anything.” with that, canary bids the team goodbye, using the zeta tube to teleport out of the cave (where the team practiced and a few members of the team lived). in the next second after black canary has left, soojin uses her telepathic powers to establish a mind link between the four of them in the room, ensuring that they could all communicate via mere thoughts.

how much do you want to bet she’s going to go relay that to the justice league? jake says telepathically, eyebrows raised.

as much as you’re willing to bet that they don’t actually want us to replace members. they just want to know about what aqualad and artemis are up to, soojin retorts.

and as much as i’m willing to bet that that little black bat behind sunghoon is a bug placed by canary on batman’s orders, jay snorts, looking determinedly to the right of where sunghoon was standing.

don’t give it away, superboy. we know that they’ve bugged us and they’ll know soon enough too but let’s take the lead that we can for now. sunghoon sighs, stretching as he gathers his duffel bag with more comfortable clothes than his suit to change into.

“i’m gonna hit the showers,” he announces out loud.

“yeah, i’m not exactly feeling like i’m doing so hot the fragrance department right now,” jake says without missing a beat.

“alright, well i’m gonna go bake cookies if you wanna meet in the kitchens in a bit,” soojin says, getting up. jay rolls shoulder carefully, grinning when he finds that it doesn’t sting when he does so.

“cool. i’ll follow the crowd and take a shower too and we’ll meet you when we don’t smell like the inside of a middle school gym,” jay says, grimacing when he catches a whiff of jake’s training (which he had changed out of about 3.2 seconds after his defeat to black canary) gear. 

the three boys part ways with their friend (and in one case, girlfriend) to hit the showers. soojin turns on the mental link once more once they're out of earshot.

how far are they getting, anyway? the old bat’s not gonna be in the dark about what’s happening in his own city for very long, jake says telepathically and sunghoon sighs, turning on the hot water once they reach the showers.

i’m not sure. i last heard from aqualad two days ago but i haven’t heard from yujin in over a week.

a WEEK? sunghoon winces when he hears jake’s incredulous voice echoing in his head. YOU HAVEN’T HEARD FROM MY GIRLFRIEND IN A WEEK?

it might be my super hearing but was that loud for everyone else too? jay asks, rather innocently.

yes, jay. i don’t think that’s how it works though, sweetheart. but jake’s right, sunghoon. you haven’t heard from artemis in a week? soojin asks from wherever she is in the den.

sunghoon shuts off the water, tousling his freshly washed hair as he steps out of the showers, contemplating how much to share with the rest of the team. 

well. i’ve heard from heeseung about yujin but she herself hasn’t checked in lately. but remember, we knew that she was going to go no comms. jake, you knew that she was going to have to go under the radar from us too when they got closer to the objective.

jake doesn’t say anything, physically brushing past sunghoon to get to his own room down the hall from him.

i really hope so, sunghoon. i really hope that your objective is worth it.

[march 17, 20XX, 10:51 p.m.]

[gotham city, southern end of new jersey]

“you shouldn’t be out in this part of the city this late at night,” ardor hears a voice say from behind her. she looks over her shoulder to see who was talking to her, and the person takes a step back, gasping when they make eye contact with her.

ardor was hunched over on the ground in mouth of a frighteningly dark alleyway, shivering and teeth chattering. her hair was a complete mess, her arms covered in bruises, and she was holding herself protectively.

“hey, you alright?” the person knelt next to ardor and she couldn’t help but to inch away from this new person, hands gaining new injuries from making contact with the unforgiving gravel of the alleyway.

the other person raises her hands, almost as though she were trying to prove that she wasn’t a threat to ardor, who eyes her suspiciously as she wraps her arms around her knees.

“i promise i don’t have any bad intentions, but are you alright? i think that we should get inside before it hits midnight, and maybe you can tell me what happened to you?” the woman says and ardor stares at the stranger’s helping hand before slowly reaching out her own bloodied hand, only to be interrupted by a loud crash from behind the stranger.

“well, well. if isn’t two little girls on the wrong side of town, standing too close to the bank for their own safety.” the stranger grimaces as she turns around, coming face to face with the big pain in the ass himself, icicle sr. 

“icicle, don’t you have better things to do than to terrorize gotham? like, i don’t know, spending quality time with your family? trying out a new hobby? when was the last time you picked up a book, huh?” the stranger says with a sigh, and while her tone is still lighthearted, ardor sees the stranger slowly shift into a more defensive stance, moving so that she was shielding ardor from their unwanted visitor.

“artemis, one of these days, that smart mouth is gonna land you somewhere you don’t wanna be,” icicle sr. growls, cracking his neck as he adopts a more offensive stance. ardor is silent all the while, more fixated on the blur of motion behind the big lump of human shaped ice than the ice itself.

“artemis, look out!” ardor yells. no sooner do the words leave her mouth does the blur of motion come to a halt in front of artemis, jabbing at her side. but artemis is quick, sidestepping the affront and pulling a bow and arrow out of seemingly nowhere.

the rest of the goons that were in the car suspiciously parked outside of the bank also start descending on artemis, ardor seemingly cast side for the moment. she tries to pull herself to her feet but the injuries from the impact that she had taken on her legs when she tumbled into gotham were still tender enough so that she couldn’t move too quickly.

ardor hunches over herself, looking down, only to see her foot completely twisted, facing the wrong direction.

she grimaces but tries to pull herself up regardless, a strange fire lit in her eyes. she reaches down and takes a deep breath before snapping her foot back into place, unable to keep the scream that escapes her throat inside.

“FUCK!” she screams, and this moment is the moment that changes y/n ardor faust’s fate forever. because no sooner does she yell this, a series of things happen in seemingly slow motion. 

first is that a pack of icicle sr.’s goons descend upon artemis and ardor in quick succession. the second is that artemis is quickly overwhelmed by the seven people that seemed to have manifested out of thin air - likely other, smaller goons that had been drawn to the areas like moths to a light after hearing ardor scream. the third thing is that ardor is forced to protect herself from icicle sr. himself.

“normally i’d go for the blondie but risk assessment tells me that i should take the wimp out first,” he says, cracking his knuckles. his cronies fall back a little bit, letting their ‘macho leader’ take on the injured girl himself. she supposed that he probably always took the first punch when it came to new victims. he fit the personality type of a secretly impotent man trying to secure his place in society by victimizing those around him anyway.

“alright,” ardor says. “well then, i hope this doesn’t hurt too much!”

and with that, a column of fire leaps out of her palms and straight into icicle sr.’s chest, propelling him backwards. he flies so far back that he crumples into the van that he’d arrived in, about twenty feet away.

for a moment, ardor panics, fearing that she may have accidentally killed him (she hadn’t used her powers for the past year and a half, and that meant that she was seriously out of practice). but she hears him groan and twitch, his cronies looking between her and his form against the car (which had made a serious dent on the passenger side).

“what? want me to turn up the heat on you guys too?” she snarls, a little fireball dancing on the palm of her hand.

artemis looks back to see ardor launch the fireball in the direction of the mob that had descended upon them, watching them scatter like roaches from the light of her flame, the goons piling into cars or leaping on buildings’ fire escapes to leave the scene.

artemis turns to ardor dumbfounded, to which ardor can only smile ruefully. “don’t worry - it’s cold fire. it doesn’t burn but it leaves a pretty nasty feeling. kinda like being submerged into a bucketful of icy water.”

“couldn’t you have done that before?” artemis says, shaking her head. ardor blinks at her owlishly before tilting her head. 

“um, i’ve never actually trained in combat with real people before so…” ardor says. “kinda didn’t wanna accidentally - maybe - really, hurt someone.”

artemis rolls her shoulder, where she’d shoulder-butted someone in an attempt to get them off of her. it worked, but her shoulder had to suffer for it. 

this girl had pyrokinetic powers, knew how to use them, but had never engaged in combat? it was practically impossible to think that someone who was this well-versed in their powers could exist on earth without batman knowing about them. and artemis knew for a fact that batman didn’t know about this girl because if batman knew, nightwing knew. and if he knew, and this girl was from gotham, then artemis definitely knew.

which meant that this girl was not on anyone’s radar. that usually was not a good thing.

“what’s your name?” artemis asks after a beat of silence. 

ardor thinks for a moment. “ardor.”

she didn’t know who this artemis kid was - although she was pretty sure that she was one of the good guys if someone robbing a bank wasn’t her biggest fan. but still. she didn’t come here to make friends with the wrong people. not again.

y/n faust needed to find the justice league. and she needed to make sure that she was on the right side of history this time.

“ardor,” artemis repeats slowly. she knows that ardor is not her real name, but artemis wasn’t about to supply this strange girl with her real name so she had reason to expect that ardor would give her hers. 

still, something about this girl indicated that she was hiding something that she definitely should not be. for some reason, she kind of reminded artemis of…herself.

again, signs pointing things more than a little on the fishy side.

but artemis knew better than to judge based on things like that. she herself was a super criminal’s daughter. what right did she have to judge anyone else based on their life experience?

and besides, the way ardor looked around, taking in the grimy alleyway of gotham was too innocent. it was like she was seeing it for the first time - like she was seeing everything for the first time.

“alright ardor. well, what brings you to gotham?” artemis asks. ardor looks at her and then back down at her foot, leaning against the disgusting wall of the bank that they were so inconveniently next to to relieve some of the pressure on her injured foot.

artemis could practically see the gears turning in this girl’s head and she’s once again hit with the fact that either this girl was a really good actress or she genuinely had gone under the radar this whole time. in any case, whoever had taught her to use her powers hadn’t taught her how to keep a poker face. 

“would you believe me if i said i came from another dimension? to look for the justice league?”

artemis searches ardor’s face, furrowing her eyebrows when she doesn’t see a single trace of lying in her eyes. she was speaking the whole, genuine truth. which of course, would have to be verified by batman and the rest of the league but as far as this girl herself knew, she was telling the truth.

she sighs, shaking her head and pulling out a transmission device on a secure line.

“sure. we have a speed force and zeta tubes. why not have alternate dimensions?” she mumbles under her breath, clicking a few buttons on the transmission device. 

“nightwing? pull me out. i’ve secured the objective and uh, a friend that i think you should meet.”

[march 18, 20XX, 12:19 a.m.]

[happy harbor bowl-o-rama, happy harbor, rhode island]

“does everything in your dimension look this…depressing?” ardor asks, wide-eyed as she takes in the rather sad state of the bowl-o-rama. 

artemis exchanges a look with nightwing before shrugging. “i mean, you did come straight from gotham right? that’s not exactly the happiest place to start off in…a different…dimension.”

nightwing nods. “yeah. what’s your dimension like? less crazy than icicle sr., i hope?”

there’s a wry smile on ardor’s face that feels out of place. like she’s not used to such an emotion.

“i don’t know; i wouldn’t call it less crazy necessarily. i mean, nothing’s ever normal when klarion’s involved,” she says, deep in thought. nightwing pauses, doing a double take and looking at artemis. 

don’t look at me! i have no clue what this kid knows either, she says telepathically. miss martian hadn’t made ardor’s acquaintance, since nightwing wanted to keep this as under wraps as possible before deciding their next steps.

“i’m sorry, did you say klarion? as in klarion the witch?” nightwing says incredulously. ardor blinks, before nodding slowly. 

“you’re not his friends are you? i doubt it, since klar doesn’t exactly do friends and his friends are definitely not as nice as you guys have been but of course, that could just be a false front as you wait for me to let down my guard so you can kidnap me and send me back to my dimension.” 

now it’s nightwing and artemis’s turn to blink at ardor. i see what you mean, yujin. she’s definitely not showing up on any of our databases so i don’t think that she’s an undercover agent because she’s not really giving any of those signs. not to mention that ‘klar’ mixed with alternate dimensions is a pretty severe indication that this girl probably has been living a life hard to understand by our standards. and…as much as i can’t stand klarion and his stupid evil magic stuff, i think that her association with him might not be as evil as we think it is.

“no, we’re not his friends. in fact, i don’t think that he likes us very much at all,” artemis says gently. ardor’s eyes seem to glow in the dim lighting of the bowl-o-rama when artemis says this, and she leans forward excitedly.

“you wouldn’t happen to be connected to the justice league, would you? they’re pretty much the only people that i know for a fact klarion hates with a passion - and that means a lot for a warlock with the emotional maturity of a prepubescent boy,” ardor says. nightwing fights to keep the smile off of his face at ardor’s enthusiastic spirit at the sight of finding those who didn’t like her acquaintance (?). 

it’s easy enough to do when the questions in his mind start to spin out of control.

“we’re familiar with people who could get you in touch with the justice league, sure. but before we do that, do you mind telling us why you’re here? in this dimension? and maybe why you’re willing to look for people who are actively working against your…acquaintance?” ardor’s smile from before starts to fade with nightwing’s torrent of questions as she looks down at her bandaged ankle, trying to come up with all of the answers to his questions.

“um. well, sure. but please, you have to promise to hear me out fully before you decide anything! and whatever i tell you, please please don’t send me back to where i came from. even though i’m pretty sure that’s kind of impossible without dark magic, i just really can’t go back,” ardor says with a hint of desperation in her voice.

artemis reaches out to place one of her hands over ardor’s hands clasped over the table that they were sitting at.

“i promise that we’ll give you a fair chance to explain yourself,” artemis says. “trust me.”

careful yujin. you said that she’s got pyrokinetic powers but we don’t know what else she’s got, nightwing says through the link, never once moving a muscle on his face.

i know that, sunghoon. but we’ve all had our fair share of dark pasts. we’ve gotta at least hear her out. and innocent until proven guilty, remember? artemis fires back, tuning back in when ardor opens her mouth to explain.

i know i’m not supposed to sift through her mind, but if it makes either of you safer, from what i can tell just from being as minimally invasive as possible to keep her from knowing i’m in her mind, she’s telling the truth, soojin says through the mindlink that allowed them to speak to each other and artemis almost misses the way that nightwing relaxes subconsciously, fighting to keep the smile off her face.

“uh…i guess there’s no easy way of putting it but my name is y/n faust. as in the daughter of felix faust, the magician,” ardor - y/n - begins. both artemis and nightwing nod, as if to coax her into continuing, thoughts racing at a mile per minute.

“i’m not really sure who my mom is. but i found out a year ago that my father moved me from this dimension, where i was born, to the dimension he created to keep me locked away from this world. he told me that it was too dangerous here and that he created that dimension to protect me from the horrors of this world - something like the story of rapunzel, if you guys have that in dimension.

“i’ve been living in a sense of seclusion for the past eighteen years. for seventeen years, i believed everything that he said. i thought it genuinely was dangerous in this dimension and that my dad was keeping me isolated from everything and everyone because he didn’t want me to get hurt. but there were things that just stopped adding up - if he was truly trying to protect me, why was he always in a different dimension, fighting those people called the ‘justice league’ instead of staying in my dimension and protecting me? why were the only people who were allowed in my dimension scary looking people like klarion? why did he only ever teach me out to make pretty shapes and do stupid party tricks with my powers instead of ever teaching me how to protect myself? why didn’t he ever let me see what the dimension next to me looked like? if it was so bad that i wouldn’t be able to survive, letting me see such a horrible dimension would make me want to run straight back into my safe little bubble, wouldn’t it?

“the questions kept adding up and i just never got any answers that i needed from my dad. one day, i managed to get klarion to confess exactly how i got stuck in that dimension and why my dad never let me leave. he never told me the full story - and obviously, i had to take everything he said with a grain of salt - but i’d gleaned enough to understand two things: one, my father was hiding me from the world, sure, but mostly from a specific person. two, he wasn’t the good guy like he was parading himself to be before i’d been able to trick into klarion telling me. i don’t think i actually tricked him, to be honest. i’m pretty sure he only told me out of spite for something my dad had done, but he told me anyway.”

artemis leans back in her chair, letting out a low whistle as her and nightwing process everything that y/n had just revealed to the two of them.

“i never knew faust had a kid,” nightwing says softly, and y/n (ardor?) shrugs, a wry smile wringing at her lips.

“faust’s kid didn’t really know there was a whole different dimensional world until last year so i won’t hold it against you,” she says. artemis and nightwing exchange a look.

soojin, i know that we’ve been pretty against mind-searching but do you think you could do a quick scan - as much as you can without getting caught - so that we can verify her story. i want to believe her but that’s a lot of information that can’t be checked otherwise. i mean if she’s really from a different dimension, there’s no telling what exactly happened in that dimension, nightwing thinks through the mindlink.

“so what made you come look for the justice league?” artemis voices out loud and y/n looks back down at her foot before shaking her head. 

“my dad and his so called friends are doing some bad stuff in this dimension. i don’t know exactly what he’s doing but i think i have some intel that might be able to get the justice league ahead of my dad and his friends this time. because i don’t think this dimension should have to see the light.”

artemis bristles at the mention of the light. an evil counterpart to the justice league, the light was capable of any level of evil that the justice league was seeking to put an end to but with the company of various high level figures such as vandal savage, klarion the witch boy, felix faust, ra’s al ghul, and lex luthor. 

even her father, sportsmaster. 

they were twisted, evil people who thought that the best way to elevate humanity and make them the ‘ultimate ruling race of the universe’ was to eliminate those who were ‘too weak to serve their purpose’ and use the rest as braindead killing machines.

all for power. everything just for power.

which was why any and all intelligence that could be provided in the fight to first figure out what the light were up to and then to figure out how to stop it was of defcon priority one.

but a single look at nightwing’s face is enough to tell artemis that she might be the only one thinking that way.

sunghoon was lost in thought, analyzing the behavior of the girl in front of them carefully. his body language was cautiously open, showing that he was open to whatever information she was presenting to them, but his arms were crossed over the table that they were sitting so that it looked like he was leaning over to examine y/n and every single tell that she was giving.

“so that explains your search for the justice league then. and i guess the pyrokinetics. any chance you might clue us in on what information you have on the light?” nightwing asks, and y/n shrinks back, suddenly looking very unsure of herself.

“i - i don’t think so. you both have been very nice and i really have to thank you for being one of the good guys and not hurting me in my time here but i, uh, really would rather talk to the justice league. when i landed in gotham, i saw batman on one of the justice league posters. i don’t know any of the other members of the justice league so if it would be possible, i’d like to tell him directly,” y/n says with a somewhat regretful tone. “not that i don’t trust you guys! i think you would’ve hurt me already if you wanted to. but…from what i can tell, the light are some really dangerous people. i just don’t want more people to get hurt than i can help.”

anything, soojin?

nothing, sunghoon. she’s clean. she’s telling the truth. but i do have to say that she’s keeping something from the two of you. it’s nothing evil, but it’s definitely something personal. i wouldn’t ask her about it because i’m pretty sure it’s private business but i do think that it might be important later so make sure that you make her feel comfortable enough to ask, soojin responds and sunghoon makes sure to file away the information in his brain before tuning back into the conversation. 

“…we totally understand where you’re coming from, y/n,” artemis is saying when he starts listening again. “and since it seems like you don’t have too many friends to stay with in this dimension, why don’t we take you to one of our safe houses before we can determine our next steps? like you said, we’re dealing with some pretty powerful and not so nice people. we want to make sure that everyone is safe before we do anything.”

“sure. i understand.” y/n pauses, seemingly hesitant as she looks down at her clothes. it’s only then that nightwing realizes that her clothes are somewhat torn from her scuffle (and undoubtedly from her tumble into their dimension).

“do you - i mean, only if you want - a change of clothes maybe? i’m not really sure what’s fashionable in your dimension but i’m sure artemis can conjure something up in your size. not that you won’t look good in whatever…if you care about that. not that you should! or shouldn’t, of course,” nightwing says, tripping over his words as he speaks. yujin turns to him with a interested glint in her eyes that signaled nothing less than i’m onto you as she turns back to y/n with a soft smile, who’s blinking at the two of them owlishly.

“uh…to be honest, when the only other female figure in your life is talia al ghul, you learn to kind of make your own fashion standards,” she says slowly, a small smile on her face.

“right. makes sense.” sunghoon stands up abruptly, unsure why he was tripping over his words and making himself seem like such a loser all of a sudden. “i’ll leave you two to it then. i have some things i need to take care of elsewhere.” 

some things? you mean me, sunghoon? aqualad says in sunghoon’s mind and it takes everything in him to keep from freaking out in front of y/n and artemis, although the latter was faring no better than he was.

heeseung had been checking in - more frequently than yujin had been, anyway - but given the objective he’d been given, it worried sunghoon more than he cared to let on when he didn’t hear from him in over six days.

or did you mean anywhere but here, by elsewhere? jay adds and sunghoon can hear the thinly veiled poke at sunghoon’s floundering in front of y/n before. 

see, this is why i hate superpowers sometimes, sunghoon grumbles, pushing the door to the bowl-o-rama open. and heeseung, i thought we were meeting directly at mount justice whenever you secured the objective?

already finished the objective, captain. i was just dropping by here since i was told by kid flash that there was an interesting show going on at the bowl-o-rama. i wanted to provide reinforcements if they were needed, heeseung says nonchalantly. 

you’re just itching for seeing me make a fool of myself, sunghoon corrects and even soojin can’t keep the laugh out of her voice.

she is very pretty, to be fair. i’d probably fumble my words too. i just thought you’d be a little more suave for someone like you, nightwing, soojin says. 

that’s - that’s not why i was fumbling. and besides, we don’t even know for sure if she’s really on our side or not. she might just be a horribly good actress and i don’t want to really give her the benefit of the doubt right now. that’s up to batman, nightwing says gruffly. but he still can’t help but turn around and glance inside the bowl-o-rama, where y/n is laughing at something that artemis is saying.

sunghoon shakes his head, unable to keep the smallest of smiles off his face. sunghoon is nightwing. he’s cool. suave. the boy wonder. he doesn’t get flustered in front of pretty girls. no, he flusters pretty girls. sunghoon is the man!

uh, boy wonder? big guy in blue? gray son of gotham? we can still hear you, jake says and this time, not even soojin keeps herself from laughing.

fuck my life. and fuck you guys too.

[march 18, 20XX, 8:19 a.m.]

[mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

“how long has the bat been in there?” jake asks, munching on an apple. yujin not so subtly jumps away from the door of the room that batman and ardor were sitting in, discussing whatever it was that she had on the light.

“at least forty-five minutes. i mean she said she didn’t have much so i don’t even know what they’re talking about this point,” yujin huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the door.

“you’re awfully overprotective over someone you met less than twelve hours ago,” jake comments and yujin rolls her eyes, pulling jake’s arm so that he stumbled over to her.

“and you’re awfully jealous of my attention being on a girl i met twelve hours ago,” yujins reasons, and jake leans forward to press a kiss to her lips, only to jump backwards when they heard someone clear their throat behind them.

“i understand that the two of you have been separated for quite some time but don’t you think that reunions should be done in places that are more private? such as perhaps the home that the two of you share?” heeseung says with a bemused smile and a raised eyebrow.

“lighten up aqualad,” jake says, punching him in the arm. “don’t worry, i was concerned for you too. i missed having to hide from people like i was going to get in trouble for kissing my girlfriend.”

“speaking of getting in trouble,” heeseung begins, pushing jake’s hand off of his arm. “don’t you two have school?”

“oh shit! it’s already 8:20? we’ve got ten minutes to get to class!” yujin says, checking her watch. she leans over to press a chaste kiss to jake’s cheek before rushing over to the zeta tubes to transport her directly to palo alto, jake hurrying to follow suit.

“you haven’t been back for more than a day and you’re already on parenting duty?” sunghoon asks, leaning against a pillar, mug of coffee in hand.

heeseung shrugs, nodding towards the door that was still closed. “well someone has to get them away from this door and back to their degrees.”

“i could barely keep them off of each other for long enough to get a mission briefing from her last night,” sunghoon says, shivering as he recalls the horrible sight of having to watch jake physically have to be separated from yujin when they reunited in mount justice last night.

“you say this now but you were definitely killing yourself trying to make sure that she was alright when she went under. especially since i bet kid flash was giving you hell about it,” heeseung says with a knowing glint in his eyes. sunghoon just offers him a tired smile as he waves, retreating into the kitchen.

“you’re welcome to take back team leader position whenever you’d like to, aqualad,” sunghoon calls out from the kitchen.

“no thanks. i’ve already got the title of ‘aquaman’ hanging over my head. i don’t think i’ll be itching for any new titles any time soon,” heeseung calls back. sunghoon sticks his neck out over the counter that separated the general meeting space from the living space, an incredulous look on his face.

“so it’s true? arthur’s handing over the mantle of aquaman?” he asks, now fortified with a plate of buttered toast. heeseung sighs, rubbing his hand over his face as he sits down on one of the bar stools on the other side of the counter.

“yeah. it’s hard to manage being the king of atlantis and the representative of atlantis in the justice league so he’s been asking for a while if i wanted to take on the responsibilities of aquaman,” heeseung says softly.

sunghoon lets out a low whistle, looking up at the bright lights of the kitchen before looking back at heeseung.

“what do you think? i mean…i hate to say it but you’d have to leave the team if you were to become justice league material. you know, our team being covert and all.” sunghoon’s tone is light, almost as if he were jesting but both heeseung and sunghoon know that his heart is heavy.

“you, jay, and i formed this team together. and with so many new threats, it feels as though i have had such little time with our team. i just can’t imagine leaving it so soon,” heeseung says comfortingly but sunghoon is able to read between the lines.

“but you have a responsibility and a duty towards your king,” sunghoon says, his words filling in the blanks. 

“it won’t be anytime soon - if i were to accept the offer - but i figured it would be best to talk it over with the team leader before i made any decisions,” heeseung explains. “not to mention that our team has changed quite a bit in the past year already. i’m just considering all the routes to be taken right now. especially since the fact that entry into the justice league would be to abandon the covert identity of the team to expose myself to the public. for a good cause, of course, but i could never return to a secret team such as our own ever again.”

“hm. whatever you decide, it’ll be the right decision, heeseung. i can tell you that much. and as your team leader, i’d like to remind you that this team will always need you and have a spot on the team for you, so long as your identity remains covert. but at the same time, this team will never stay the same forever. i think that jake and yujin moving out to california was the first indication of that. but that doesn’t mean that our friendships or that our team will ever lose you,” sunghoon says after a moment of contemplation.

heeseung finally smiles a relieved smile. “it brings me great comfort to hear you speak that way, old friend.”

sunghoon can’t offer more than a bittersweet smile, and heeseung and sunghoon both know that things have been different between the three founding members for a long while now, even if they all hated to admit it.

“batman has asked you many times if you wanted to turn to fighting crime in the name of the justice league, has he not?” heeseung asks. 

“yeah. he has. but i don’t know. i don’t think i’m ready to leave this team just yet,” sunghoon says, and for some reason, he finds his gaze trailing over to the door that was still shut. usually the therapy room was occupied for no more than twenty minutes (or longer if the mission had been particularly mentally taxing, but that was very rare).

“yes. there is still much to be done. many people to save,” heeseung says, and sunghoon snaps his gaze back to heeseung’s knowing one and for some reason, although the age difference between heeseung and sunghoon is but a year and a half, for some reason, it feels as though heeseung is lightyears ahead of sunghoon.

“i’m not into her,” sunghoon says feverishly, but heeseung just shrugs.

“i never said you were. she is someone to save, is she not?”

sunghoon doesn’t know what to say to that, but he finds that he’s saved (once again) by his old mentor, and batman steps out of the therapy room, y/n behind him, her eyes red and swollen, as if she’d been crying.

“i expect that mount justice has space for one more inhabitant?” he asks, but the tone of his voice makes it clear that he’s not exactly asking. 

in fact, batman rarely used words that he didn’t exactly need to use. ‘mount justice’ meant that y/n was safest here, in a secret location that was used by the team as a secret headquarters. that meant that she was probably in danger - from the light, at sunghoon’s best guess. the fact that he also said ‘one more inhabitant’ meant that y/n’s powers (which had been described briefly by yujin) were to be utilized for good.

if sunghoon chose to. or realistically, if the team decided that she would be a good fit and that adding her to the team wouldn’t put her in more danger than she was already in.

“we have the space,” sunghoon says carefully, and batman almost smiles at the caution that he’s drilled into his mentee so many times in the past.

“she needs a place to stay. and she can hold her own - she’d be a good addition to the team,” batman confirms, and sunghoon can hear the true message behind his words.

she’s safe. her story checks out. you can trust her.

batman has never been wrong in the past; sunghoon saw no reason to start questioning him now.

and besides, when sunghoon had done some digging of his own last night, her saw that y/n’s story mostly checked out. at the very least, it would explain the inter-dimensional issues that were growing larger, according to doctor fate. 

“then, i am going to leave sunghoon to showing you to your room. i have some business on atlantis to attend to,” heeseung says, and sunghoon catches the stray glance he throws at him, choosing to ignore it steadily.

“i’ll head out then, too. but nightwing, i’d like to have a one on one with you later on,” batman adds and it’s slight, barely there (as much of batman’s emotion usually was) but sunghoon can hear the faint jest in his words.

the cave (the nickname that they called the area where the training grounds, zeta tubes, and the therapy room were all located in, adjacent to the kitchen) grew emptier as the zeta tubes rang out twice, reading out batman and aqualad’s recognition numbers.

“and then there were two,” sunghoon says, largely to himself. y/n’s eyebrows furrow as she pouts, trying to recall if she’d ever heard the phrase before.

“i thought the book was called and then there were none?” she asks slowly and sunghoon shakes his head, a small smile on his face.

“i guess there’s a lot of gap between inter-dimensional sayings.”

“probably. the only saying that i know of is ‘don’t venture too far into the darkness or you’ll die.’ i didn’t know how to tell my dad that i was scared of the dark anyway.”

“for someone who grew up around the light, you’re pretty softhearted.”

“eh, it’s easy to not listen when your powers involve pyrokinetics. you know, because fire? and fire emits light? light beats darkness? also, you know my dad is involved with the light, right? it’s all pretty ironic and hypocritical if you stop to think about it.”

sunghoon blinks, unsure if how they ended up in this conversation all of a sudden. huh. it wasn’t like him to lose track of a conversation like that. to be fair, when your conversational partner is usually jake sim, half the time sunghoon was just stuck asking him to stop talking at the speed of sound.

literally.

“uh-huh. anyway, let me show you your room,” sunghoon says, rounding the corner to exit the kitchen and reach where y/n was standing. the two of them walk side by side and sunghoon leads her down the hallway past the amenities (pointing out the essential ones - the gaming room - as they walked) towards the bedroom.

“i’m sorry. i’m not being a burden staying here, right?” she asks after a lull in the sunghoon’s tour guide speech. sunghoon looks at her, somewhat startled by the question.

“why would you be a burden?”

y/n sighs, looking at the ground as they walked, finally stopping in front of the room that she had slept in yesterday. “i don’t know, but i’ve just been alone for my entire life. the closest person i had to someone that was kinda my age was klarion, the witchboy himself, and he doesn’t exactly make good company. i don’t really know what it’s like to be around people my age all the time - especially not people i thought were evil for so long.”

“you thought we were evil?” sunghoon asks and he wishes he could stuff the words back into his mouth. here this girl was, risking her life to share information to save them, and confiding her feelings to him and sunghoon was butthurt about being called evil. what happened to being suave? the big guy in blue? the smooth-talking hero that dropped panties?

maybe the last part was a tad bit tonedeaf. and unnecessary.

“uh. yeah. that’s why i was told i shouldn’t come to this dimension? why the justice league was bad and we should all ‘see the light’?” y/n says. 

“right. sorry. um. how did you figure out that the light wasn’t really the good guys if the information you got in that dimension was so controlled? i can’t imagine klarion just letting up information like that. i know that you said that he did it to spite your dad, but it’s just so strange, is it not? i mean, klarion may be a pain in the ass but he’s not stupid enough to risk falling on the other side of the light’s alliances,” sunghoon says after a beat and y/n shrugs, but her eyes are guarded.

“it’s a long story,” she says, and sunghoon is left wondering if maybe batman had had the same question. that’s probably why the ‘interrogation’ too so long earlier, he realizes belatedly.

“i won’t pry. but y/n, i do have to remind you that the more information you’re ready to share with us, the more prepared we are when the light comes to this dimension to wreak whatever havoc you want to prevent,” sunghoon says, picking and choosing his words very carefully.

“and i’ve already given all the information i have to the justice league. i don’t know why i should have to share the information i have with every single person in this dimension. and besides, what does my personal enlightenment have to do with the light’s plans?” y/n asks, her tone quick and sharp, unlike sunghoon has ever heard her before.

granted, he only knew her for a total of about ten hours, but still. he never expected to hear such a tone from a girl like her, especially when she had been so open before. but it was like she said - when your only female figure is talia al ghul, it’s hard to imagine trying to be anything but the most cunning and cutthroat person possible. maybe all of her friendliness was just a facade and this was her true personality?

speaking of female figures, sunghoon wonders what had happened to her mother. clearly, she wasn’t in the picture if y/n had no clue who she was. but sunghoon knew from his own time as the detective of the team that oftentimes, in cases where the children were isolated from the rest of the world and raised by a singular parent, it was a trauma response from a behavior from the other parent.

of course, it wasn’t as though sunghoon had a bunch of cases to base his theories off of, but the patterns were almost glaringly obvious in the few cases that he did have.

“right. i’m sorry if i was prying. i just - never mind. i’m sorry y/n. you’re entitled to your privacy,” he says, stepping back from the doorway of y/n’s room to turn around and leave when he feels a hand grab onto his wrist.

his first instinct is to flip the owner of it over his shoulder and press a knife to their neck (battle worn responses, courtesy of training with batman and black canary) but for some reason, his second instinct is to cover y/n’s hand with his own. and sunghoon definitely doesn’t have any answers for why exactly.

“i’m sorry. i know i’m being touchy. it’s just that everything is just so new and so much. and like i said, i went a good part of my life thinking that you guys were the bad guys; it’s hard to remember that i can actually tell people things. and you know, trust people with information. you gotta give me some time. i promise, i’ve already said everything that’s absolutely vital to say,” she says, offering a sheepish look as an olive branch.

sunghoon’s heart pangs with guilt, and he takes another step back, barely registering the look in y/n’s eyes when his wrist disconnects from her hand. “yeah, of course. trust me, i know what it’s like better than most people what it’s like to feel like you can’t trust those around you. especially when you’ve just been thrown into a new environment. i’ll leave you to getting settled in.”

he turns around, making his way down the hallway, stopping halfway and turning around, only to make eye contact with y/n, who was watching him walk, her hand on the doorway and her body leaning slightly out of the room to get a better look.

“um. soojin and jay should be awake soon. they live here so you’ll never be completely alone, so don’t worry about safety or anything, okay?” he says awkwardly, trying to offer some sort of explanation of why exactly he kept hesitating to leave her standing there.

“thanks. that’s good to hear. but um, you don’t live here?” she asks, thumbing the metal of the doorway.

“nah. just soojin and jay. the rest of us live in our own places outside of mount justice,” sunghoon says, and he can’t help the eyebrow that cocks upwards, the corner of his lips tugged upwards. “why? would you prefer if i did?”

“no! i mean, no! i mean, like, i don’t have a preference if you lived here or not - it would be totally cool either way. i just - i was just asking,” she says, stumbling over her words and sunghoon finally feels the tension in his shoulders melt. turns out, his charm still worked on cute girls. even cute girls who’ve been surrounded by psychopaths like talia al ghul and klarion the witchboy.

for some reason, that thought suddenly makes the tension return to his shoulders.

“whatever you say, y/n.”

[march 18, 20XX, 6:48 p.m.]

[gotham city, southern end of new jersey]

“i assume you didn’t ask me to come back to gotham to feed me dinner, eunwoo,” sunghoon says, but he helps himself to another serving of steak, which doesn’t go unnoticed by neither eunwoo (batman, and the man that had raised sunghoon ever since he was orphaned) nor alfred (the family butler who had truly raised sunghoon). 

“no. but i figured that it would be appreciated,” eunwoo says, and sunghoon can hear the affection practically dripping from his voice. when sunghoon had first seen eunwoo don the attire of the ‘batman’ suit, he’d been shocked.

sunghoon had always known eunwoo as a rather sweet and disciplined man, but he’d never imagined that eunwoo would also have the side of him that showed unreal levels of intelligence, seriousness, and a thirst for justice that he’d successfully passed down to sunghoon.

“alfred’s cooking never goes unappreciated, that much i can guarantee.” sunghoon sets down his fork, chewing slowly as he lets the silence between them grow longer.

when he was younger, full of passion to prove his worth to batman, sunghoon would run his mouth with things he’d learned or discovered, unintentionally telling batman many things that he probably wouldn’t have in other circumstances, just to fill the silence. but now, sunghoon just ate quietly, feigning nonchalance.

he knows that he’s won the battle of wits when eunwoo breaks the silence.

“so about ardor,” eunwoo begins. his eyes are trained on the food in front of him but sunghoon knows that all of his attention is on him. “she’s interesting. she’s shared some information that’s hard to believe but if it’s true, it could put at a serious advantage above the light.”

“right. well, i hope that information reaches the right people,” sunghoon says, shutting his eyes in regret when he realizes the freudian slip he’d let through his filtering system.

“what do you mean by that, young master?” alfred asks, and sunghoon sighs, knowing that the question was said by alfred but it was coming from batman. and sunghoon could never really keep any secrets from alfred anyway. the old man had a way of weaseling secrets out of him; sunghoon figures that alfred was secretly in espionage before retiring to help eunwoo take over cha enterprises.

or something like that, anyway.

“i just mean that she really emphasized that the information should get to the right people. she landed in gotham after she escaped the dimension she’s from. now i don’t know how much control she had of where she landed, but she’s mentioned many times that she thought that the justice league was evil. but the very point of our team is espionage and identity protection; there’s no reason that she should have to suspecting us, since she would have no idea who we were. but she still refused to tell us any information and insisted on only telling batman, who could’ve been proven to be evil, for all she knew.

“it could just be because she landed in gotham and did a little bit of research to figure out who the vigilante of gotham was, fixated on that singular person, and decided not to trust anyone else because of the people she’s been exposed to her entire life. but someone so skittish wouldn’t reveal any details to anyone and just insist on talking to you - batman - the whole time. there’s no real reason she had to give us any details if she truly didn’t trust us.

“so, that can’t be the reason why she was so hesitant sharing the information about the light with the rest of us. my guess? we’ve got a mole in the justice league or in the team. it’s likely not the team, since everyone just came back from their objectives safely and soojin would definitely realize if someone had been turned with her mind-reading capacity. i don’t doubt that martian manhunter, since he has the same set of powers, would also be able to see if there’s a mole in the justice league. but it’s different. not only is soojin more powerful, she’s also got an emotional link between the six of us - we all read certain signatures in her mind and she’s the first one to know whenever one of us have the slightest changes in our emotions. she’d figure out a mole in a second.

“so that rules out the team. her information must have something to do with the light having a mole. but she doesn’t know anyone else in the justice league, or maybe she knew for a fact that you weren’t the mole, which is why she’s been so fixated on finding you and telling you everything else. i assume that you’re only even telling me anything after verifying her information and getting her consent to tell me, if you found me safe enough to tell.” sunghoon can practically see the brainwaves radiating off of batman, analyzing every word that sunghoon had chosen to use to explaining his reasoning.

sunghoon hadn’t planned on revealing that soojin’s (and the team’s) bond ran deeper than just connecting them telepathically, but at least by telling batman that, he’d realize that the team was more than capable of taking care of each other and that they definitely didn’t need any new members right now.

besides y/n. if she wanted to join the team, sunghoon honestly wasn’t opposed to the idea of her joining, and he doubted that anyone else was truly offended by her presence. she’d be rather welcome, he thinks.

which is not what he should be thinking of right now. right.

“you’ve deduced the truth. there’s a mole in the justice league,” eunwoo says, shaking his head and leaning back into his chair. “but if we were to brute force it and try and figure out who it was in a way that’s obvious, the light would either find someone else to manipulate or just declare all out war on the justice league. and considering the members of the light, we cannot afford a war like that right now.”

his gaze turns to sunghoon, and grows thoughtful. “but the team can help us out. you specialize in espionage. it would be considerably easier for the team to find the mole, since the light isn’t exactly aware of the team besides chance encounters with a few villains here and there that might be affiliated with the light. in addition, if ardor were to be part of the team, she would have an easier time easing into this dimension, or maybe even be able to point out exactly who the mole is if she’s ever seen them before.”

“are you sure that y/n should be on the battlefield though? i don’t doubt her abilities but we really don’t know how strong she is. and she’d be fighting people she was once on the same side as,” sunghoon points out and eunwoo’s face grows visibly sad, something that sunghoon has seen very rarely during all of his time with him.

“i know. and i hate to ask that of her. but you and i know better than anyone else what it’s like to grow up around such evil people throughout your entire life. and having no one else to turn to? she needs people her age around her who can show her what life is supposed to be like. no one else should have to suffer like she did, but something tells me that she’s strong enough to be able to point the proverbial finger at the proverbial villain. living with such people could not have been easy. i hate to ask her to channel her revenge in this way but - ” eunwoo cuts off when he sees the look in sunghoon’s eyes.

“i’m not going to ask her to stand in danger’s way just so that it’s easier for us to beat the people that she’s always grown up with - the only people she’s known for her entire life. but the team will help her assimilate into this dimension. we’ll be her friends,” sunghoon says, and his voice has a protective edge to it that he can’t bother to disguise.

“just promise me that if she ever wants to join the team, you don’t shut her out,” eunwoo says finally. “give her a chance.”

sunghoon just looks at eunwoo. “i won’t stop myself from doing what’s best for the team.”

dinner is relatively quiet after that, alfred starting conversations here and there about sunghoon’s day job as a detective (it was relatively easy to deal with normal, petty crime here and there when there were so many crimes that involved superhuman people with streaks of world domination). but other than that, the three of them were rather silent, each of them absorbed in their own thoughts.

sunghoon excuses himself, offering to wash the dishes to take the load off of alfred, gathering the plates and balancing them delicately as he leaves the room to reach the kitchen.

alfred looks over to eunwoo, who’s looking up at the light fixture that they’d installed three years ago, at sunghoon’s request.

“our dining room looks more like a funeral room, eunwoo,” sunghoon had said. “come on, old bat. let’s add some color. some pizzazz.”

“pizzazz?” eunwoo had asked, eyebrows raised in humor.

“you know, whatever young kids call it these days.”

“you’re nineteen, sunghoon.”

“and you’re twenty-four. we all need some more life in this place. you’d think we’re all alfred’s age with the way this house looks.”

“young master, what offense has my age brought in all of this?”

“sorry alfred. low hanging fruit.”

“that feels like a euphemism.”

“that’s gross.”

eunwoo sighs, a quick huff of air escaping his mouth. that was about as close to a laugh as alfred was used to these days, anyway.

“when did we end up like this, alfred? he used to look up to me for everything. we did everything together. and i still love the kid half to death but it’s just difficult when it feels like we’re fighting about everything,” eunwoo says, never taking his eyes off of the light fixture. what do you know? it did have some pizzazz.

“that’s a part of raising kids, young master. you learn that at some point, the world is no longer ours. it’s the next generations. and they might not listen to elders’ advice because they have their own plans for the world but if there’s anything i’ve learned in raising you, it’s that oftentimes, their head is in the right place. they see things in ways that we cannot.” alfred smiles, leaving his seat in the middle of the table to sit right next to eunwoo, his gaze warm and comforting.

“he’s not my actual son, you know that right?” eunwoo says and alfred leans over to smack him upside the head - something that many people would dare to do to the batman.

“and you know as well as i do that blood relations means nothing when it comes to family, don’t you?” alfred says gently, his tone as firm as a warm hand clasped in a friend’s.

eunwoo glances at the doorway that led down to the kitchen and smiles faintly. 

“yeah. i know that.”

[march 18, 20XX, 6:48 p.m.]

[???]

“YOU WHAT?” felix faust roars, fisting klarion’s freshly pressed shirt in angry palms. “WHERE THE HELL IS MY DAUGHTER?”

“alright pal, i’m gonna let that one go because i’m not in the mood right now. calm down,” klarion says, pushing faust off of him. 

“YOU TOLD MY DAUGHTER THE TRUTH ABOUT THIS DIMENSION AND YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN? YOU MOTHERFU - ” faust never gets to finish the rest of his sentence because the second that he gets back in klarion’s face, the witchboy casts a spell over him, causing him to fall asleep right where he was standing.

klarion looks at his slumped figure on the ground, almost disgusted before clicking his tongue. “i don’t know where these lower level peasants get all their audacity from.”

he looks around for teekles, his cat familiar, stretching his arms out for teekles to jump into.

“hm. it would be a big issue with the rest of the light if they realize that faust’s daughter is missing. pah, i don’t know why i helped him keep her here the whole time. she was gonna be a liability anyway,” klarion mutters to himself. “then again, i guess i was the one who let her out. and told her the truth. well. it was bound to come out at some point.”

he shrugs, ready to walk away when teekles meows in his arms and he groans, stamping his feet childishly.

“what do you mean i have to clean up my mess? i don’t wanna!” klarion says but teekles just meows at him once more and klarion drags himself, kicking and screaming to the dimensional pocket that lead him in and out of this isolated bubble dimension faust had created to isolate his daughter.

“i’m not going to tell the light just yet. let’s see where this girl could’ve gone. oh bother. this is too much trouble for the five minutes of fun i got.”

“meow.”

“i don’t appreciate the sass, teekles.”

and in his childish hurry, for all of his wit, klarion the witchboy is none the wiser when felix faust rises from his slumber, plotting the death of his own daughter.

[vixen-tech]

if you want to -- maybe AUTO with a botanist reader? i just think it'd be so interesting how it would play out !! u dont have to, so only do it if u want to!!

🩹 anon

To be Loved, To Maybe be Changed (Auto x Botanist!Reader)

Oh that certainly is a concept!! It's a great one for Auto to, this put an entire storyline in my head that I think justifies breaking out the oneshot format rather than headcanons. Which works out great because I think out of all the Ai's I've written for, he would need the most 'set up' from how not-sentient he's protrayed in Wall-E. Anyways grab a snack floks this is a long one

It had been many generations since the Axium returned home to earth. Humans, robots, and the all important plant finding themselves back on soil, populating the deserted planet once more.

Things have changed since then. The human body began readapting to earth's gravity, the majority of buildings around the landing site have been fixed up and inhabited, and most importantly: the city is covered in plants. Grasses sprout between broken walkways, invy weaves its way up repurposed skyscrapers, gardens spill out of every available alleyway, a gaint tree stands where that first plant took root all those centuries ago. Each year it seems the sky gets a little more blue.

The ever diversifying flora had captivated you ever since you first had the words to describe it. As soon as you had a say so, you began studying it. Dispite the flourishing growth, any sort of plant husbandry was still something of a lost art. You lived off of the ancient manuals and beginners guides that eventually made their way out of the Axium's archives.

Yet even those could only do so much for you when most of the crops that had evolved from that first seedling had taken forms a far cry from their original pre space-age forefathers. It became your life's mission to learn how to best take care of these new cultivars and of course, spread the knowledge (and hopefully passion) for botany that you had gained throughout your life.

That was what fueled your visits to the Axium. Still parked at the foot of that monumental tree, it had been transformed into something of a community center. With most of its facilities still running and new services offered everyday. You often came to drop off your experimental findings, teach classes, and check to see if other botanists had done the same. Why you began exploring the depths of the halls that one fateful day, you still don't know.

The spaceship was massive, clearly a crowning jewel of its time. To this day many rooms remained unused and largely blocked off. The bustle and warmth of public spaces giving way to dust and insect nests as you roam through areas no longer needed. Bathrooms too far from the people to warrant upkeep, storage rooms that were once filled with replacement parts for the robots that now walked side by side with humans. And at the end of your journey, the captain's quarters.

The door was practically sealed shut with age, and the room behind it was hardly any better. The air attacked you with a cloud of dust once you finally managed to shove open the door, and no matter how much you rubbed your eyes there still appeared to be an almost foggy looking quality to the room.

That's when you found Auto.

He was still dangling from the ceiling above a control panel you doubt still worked. You had seen and befriended many robots before, they were just as common as humans in the city nowadays with remarkably little tension between them. Recognizing that the innert steering wheel in front of you was once one, your heart ached. You were no mechanic, but surely you had to at least try to get him up and running again. What can you say, you were always a bit of a bleeding heart.

After carefully detaching him from the ceiling you carried what was essentially an inanimate hunk of metal all the way back home with you. People stared, sure, but they kept any questions or judgments to themselves as you made your way home.

Your residence was rustic, to say the least. A fairly rundown shack renovated into a makeshift greenhouse. Produce and flowering plants alike overflowed from their neat rows of pots on benches. Some were for you, more were to sell, all were part of research in one way or another.

You loved walking through your own little botanical garden to get to your living quarters. The moment you pass through the front doors you're always hit with a wave of earthy freshness. The smell of petrichor and pollen greeted you (and your new... friend?) just as it always did. Never once failing to make you feel at home.

Your living quarters themselves were similarly homey. Not drastically bigger than a hotel room, it's a modest living area with a kitchen tucked in the corner and two doors along the wall. One leading to a compact bathroom, the other your bedroom. Some may call it cramped, but to you it's cozy. You spent most of your time in the greenhouse anyway.

That might have been the only day you mourned your lack of space. As if he were a friend you had to drag home after a night of drinking, you placed Auto on the couch. Promising to yourself that you'd do your best to fix him up. You'd probably have to give him some wheels to, since you ripped him from the ship. Well, your life could always use some more excitement.

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

Your knowledge of machinery had definitely improved over the past few weeks. On all accounts you were extraordinarily lucky that he was in such good shape. Age had rendered most of his circuits unusable, but isolation kept them from becoming unrecognizable. Night after night you would come home with a new part and with surgical delicacy, swap it out for its damaged counterpart.

You had heard stories from the time of the Axium. You knew of the 'evil autopilot program that tried to trap humanity in space'. You knew that you were probably trying to fix said evil autopilot program. It may have been the weeks of one sided bonding, but you didn't buy it. Surely at worst he was just following orders. And who knows, maybe with some free will he might be able to turn over a new leaf.

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

"What happened?" His voice was striking, deep and inhumanly regular in a way that was still seen a trademark of artificial speech. He was upright on the wheeled body you attached him to, the red eye (camera?) at the center of his face seemed to scan you up and down before doing the same to the room around him.

The cocktail of pride and anxiety had yet to leave your chest. You attempted to explain, "Well I fixed you-"

"Before that." He interrupted. Slowly wheeling himself to the living room window, still unsure of the new addition you had made to his body. "Where are we?" He added.

You should have been prepared for that one. "We're on earth, in my house." You watched with apprehension as he stared out the window. The steering wheel that made his outer body clicked back and forth as if he were swaying in thought.

"Earth is habitable." His voice lacked strong inflection, you were unsure if he was asking you a question or stating the fact to himself.

"It has been for a long time." You said as gently as you possibly could. "You were... on that ship for centuries, a lot has changed since then."

If he was listening to you, he made no effort to show it. Instead continuing to look outside as if he were zoning out in thought. "There are plants", he observed.

The view out that window wasn't remarkable by any means. Just some grass and a few odd trees before the city's skyscrapers blocked your line of sight. But the mere mention of plants was always enough to get you excited. "Oh if you're interested in plants you should see this." Gesturing for him to follow you as you opened the door to your greenhouse.

He paused for a moment before trailing behind you.

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

Auto made for a strange guest. With no astro-cruise to run he spent a considerable amount of time staring at you while you worked. It was only as you were measuring the pH of your plants' soil that you began narrating your work to him. It started as a way for you to simply diffuse the tension and explain why you were so invested in the vegetation.

He made for a good wall to rant to. You didn't have many close friends and certainly none as into botany as you, most other botanists spent as much time with their garden as you do. But thankfully, no matter how much you asked if you were being annoying, he would repeat that "The information is important, please continue." All while focused on whatever orchid you made the subject of your newest lecture. You did make it clear that he was free to leave at any time.

He never did.

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

Your first trip to the Axium since Auto's reactivation was an awkward one, at least on your part. When you announced that you needed to go to drop off your latest batch of research he requested to could come with, one of the first things he asked of you since waking up.

Perhaps you shouldn't have been surprised, Auto had barely took a step outside your home. Relying instead on you and whatever books or documentaries you had to fill him in on what the world had become. Who were you to deny him some fresh air?

Although you had grown much more comfortable around him you were still anxious to hear what he thought of everything. And as always his judgment came in the form of definite reports. It was all "Humanity is stable." Or "Plant life is flourishing." If he had any semblance of opinion, he didn't tell you about it.

He didn't behave much differently on the Axium, continuing to trail you like a lost duckling and thoroughly scan the surroundings. It wasn't until you met up with a fellow herbalist that he spoke a word.

They asked you about a specific project you were working on, a new crossbreed of a medicinal herb of particular interest to them. However, as it wasn't the purpose of your trip you didn't have any of its records on you. You were about to apologize and tell them so until Auto informed them, "The crossbreed has shown accelerated growth but a greater sensitivity to sunlight." The herbalist thanked both of you and walked off.

Even though you shouldn't have been shocked to learn that he was actually storing the information you spat at him, it was still nice to know that he cared to some degree.

"Thank you, Auto."

"You're welcome."

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

The days have gone on much the same since then. You had never sought out an adventurous life. Often you go out the greenhouse in the morning and find Auto observing the various moths and flies that had evolved as pollinators alongside the new flora. "Morning Auto!" You would cheerfully greet.

You never fully understood why he stayed, but it didn't matter to you at this point. He was here and he made no effort to go. You had more than enough room in your life for him anyway.

"Good morning."

And so another day starts.