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mamsieur · 6 months

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Used to it | Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Summary : Being Pete Mitchell's daughter has never been easy. But maybe one mission could bring you back together ?

TW : angst and fluff, angst with a happy ending, mention of alcohol, panic attack, canonical character death, age gap (reader is 27 and Bradley is 35)

Length : 7156 words

AN : I'm sorry for making Pete seem like a bad father but that man is not stable enough to handle a child in my opinion.

posted on AO3 July 12, 2023

You were 7 when your mother left your father, Pete Mitchell.

You didn't have many early memories of him. There were only the arguments with your mother, his departures on missions that left you in tears, the missed birthdays and Christmases. It’s all you’ve ever known so you were used to it and being a child, you found it normal.

You were 7 when your mother decided to move out, leaving your whole life behind. You remember crying your eyes out in protest. As your mom tried desperately to get you out of the house, you clung with all your might to Bradley. Bradley Bradshaw was 15 and your regular babysitter, though your mother thought of him as a son, Carole and her were really close. They liked to remind you that when you were 4, you proudly announced that you were going to marry him. Bradley was almost always around, and Pete was his godfather, and they had a bond you envied. Despite the eight-year age difference, you remember being very close to your "Bradbrad" . He never pushed you away, was always ready to play Lego or other board games with you. He even took you to the park or with him when he went to the theater with his friends - when the movies were kids friendly -.

You were 7 , and your whole world shattered. No more Bradley, no more hanging to the naval base to have a glimpse of your dad and his incredible plane, no more aunty Carole and her sweet singing. You had hated your mom for years before understanding you left for the best. She was finally happy ; not completely, she missed her friends and sometimes your father, but you could feel that she was happier away from the hustle and bustle of the navy, of your dad. You were not used to the strange calmness of the city, but your grandparents made it easy to adapt. Soon enough, you got used to the loving cocoon your mother succeeded to create around you.

You were 16, at your mother's funeral, when you had to accept the fact that you had to go back to live with Pete. When the two of you finally found each other in the crowd, he didn't say much, just gave you a few brief updates. You asked him about Bradley, a bit sad to not have seen him here, and he didn't have much to say. Only that the two of them were no longer as close as they had been.

The silence between you was uncomfortable.

Of course, Pete had kept in touch over the years, calling on your birthdays, sending a little something. You spent some Christmas with him when he wasn't working and a few days during the summer break ; but Pete Mitchell loved his work too much to focus on you. As long as you lived with your mother, Pete's absence from your life wasn't something you suffered from, at least not really.

You were used to it. Used to the absence, used to the missed calls, used to the Christmases with the attention of other aviators and their families but the ignorance of your dad, used to the unanswered phone calls. Used to his silence.

But now your mum was dead... and you were dreading having to join your father in California.

You were 16 and you didn't want to live with him, you already knew what would happen ; he'd go flying, on a mission or for his own pleasure, leaving you alone at home - if you could call it home. The hangar where he lived now was something you'd always hated . It had no place for anything or anyone other than his passion for the sky, for planes and speed. You didn't want to leave your new life, even though you loved California. Your school, your friends, your family, your routine. But you didn't really have much of a choice. You were 16. He was now your legal guardian and you didn't want to drag your grandparents into a custody battle. Even though part of you told yourself that your dad would probably agree to let you stay with them, you didn't want to take that chance. And you hoped he'd be more present, that you'd finally have the father you'd dreamed of, that your other friends had. If other military parents could be there for their children, why couldn't Pete?

Perhaps because Pete loved flying more than anything else in the world. The sky was his one true love.

Even though you knew it, you held out the faintest hope that he would finally take his responsibilities as a father. Unfortunately, Pete was still Pete. He wasn't cut out to be a father. A fun uncle, maybe. A parent, no. The fact that Bradley no longer spoke to him proved that.

You were 18 when you packed your bags and headed off to the naval school in Maryland. You wanted to be a pilot too. And you wanted to get away from that bloody hangar, so empty, so alone.

Pete wasn't there when you left. Not even a message or a note. Nothing at all.

You weren't even surprised.

It was Tom Kazansky - Uncle Tom - who had taken you to the airport. He had been more present in your life than your own father, even though you rarely saw him. You knew your relationship with Pete was a sensitive subject, and you knew when Tom gave him a hard time. Pete was suddenly more present - too present . He'd pop into your life for a few days, trying to be the cool or bossy dad, but it always ended in a fight.

You hated it when he did that. You hated the way he would act like your friend, or like a strict parent, talking about curfew and how no boys were allowed in his 'home'. You hated the way he would try to be the father that he had never been in your whole life. You hated the way he tried to convince you that he was trying to change, that he'd be there for you.

But you couldn't blame Uncle Tom for trying to shake your father. He had children too, but despite his love of the air, he had been a present parent to them.

But some days were not as bad as others. Sometimes, when he was in a good mood, Pete would take you flying. And even though it was hard to admit, you were a bit of a flier yourself. The feeling of freedom, of being alone in a comforting way. It was mesmerizing.

So, without him knowing, you decided to join the navy after graduation. You took your mother's name, Evans , so that you would not attract attention. Only Tom knew, so your dad wouldn't and couldn't pull your papers like he did with Bradley.

You found out that he had done this when you saw Bradley one day in the summer before you made your choice. At first you did not recognize him. He was 26 now. He was taller, more muscular and had a 80s mustache that suited him well - puberty had treated him really good. He was the spitting image of his father, whom you'd only seen in photographs and heard about when Tom and Pete reminisced over drinks about the past.

But Bradley had the same look in his eyes as his mother, Carole.

As a child, you adored Carole. She was always there to comfort you when your parents were at odds, picking you up from kindergarten when your father was on a mission and your mother was at work… She was kind of a second mom. You went to her funeral with your mother eight years ago, you never cried so much.

The summer of your reunion with Bradley had been the summer of his return from the Naval Academy, which he had graduated from with honors. He was a very good pilot and would soon be going on a mission. The day before he left, you snuck out of the hangar to meet him at a nearby bar. He had celebrated his departure with you and a handful of friends, promising to keep in touch as often as possible. As he left, you realized how much you'd missed your Bradbrad.

You were 18, and you remembered how quiet the ride to the airport had been. Part of you wanted to stay. You loved California. It was close to the ocean, the people were friendly, and at the Navy base everyone knew you.

You'd even earned a nickname, the call sign you hoped to use soon : Tempest . It was a bittersweet memory of a stormy night when Pete "forgot" to pick you up from baseball practice. You had landed on the base, mad as hell, soaked to the bone. You'd yelled at your father as hard as the storm had raged. It had been a huge fight. And of course, everyone had heard. Surprisingly, many had defended you rather than your father. You were relieved then. And to cheer you up while your dad was embarrassed, Tom took you to your favorite fast food and laughed with you about the scene. "You walked in there like a damn storm, a tempest ! Heck, that should be your call sign when you join the ranks !" You smiled as you remembered his raspy laugh and all the stories he told you about his days at Topgun .

It was through those stories that you learned a little bit more about your father, The Maverick . His accomplishments, his reckless attitude in the air, his urge to always define what’s possible and pushing the limits. Your desire, your need , to join the Navy to become a pilot only grew, digging a hole of longing for the sky deep inside you. You wanted your father to see you, to acknowledge you. You wanted to be more like him.

You were 27 years old when you were called to the NAS North Island for a "top secret" mission that required "the best of the best". To your surprise, you were one of the youngest and one of the only women. But you'd missed California too much to worry about such details. Like many pilots, you had joined the Hard Deck for a drink the day before training began. You soon met Natasha "Phoenix" Trace and Jake "Hangman" Seresin. Two strong personalities. Then came Javy “Coyote” Machado and Robert "Bob" Floyd. He was discreet, a bit shy. And before you could introduce yourself to the others, someone entered the bar and caught Jake's eye.

"Bradshaw. As I live and breathe."

"Hangman. You look... good." His voice was behind you and you didn't dare turn around to see him.

"Well, I am good. I'm very good Rooster ."

You let the two men talk, then Bradley greeted Natasha and the others. At last, his gaze landed on you. You couldn't help but smile stupidly. He looked so surprised and happy. "Y/N Tempest Evans?!"

"Hey Bradbrad ..." you smiled and happily accepted his embrace. He squeezed you against him and asked you all about your journey, which you happily did, while in the distance the bell rang, indicating that a customer couldn't pay his bill and had to be kicked out. Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you recognized your father, but Jake and Javy had already grabbed him by the arms and dragged him outside. You didn’t have the time to really think about it, Bradley taking you by the hand to sing with him at the piano. You laughed and followed him with the others in his Great balls of fire ’s reprise. It had been a great night.

The next day, at the first meeting, you thought your heart stopped when you saw that your instructor was actually Pete... and from the look on his face, he wasn't happy to see you there. Before the meeting was over, you heard his voice call your name ; it had a barely disguised note of anger. "Lieutenant Evans. You’ll stay after training, we'll have a word."

Bradley looked at you, concerned. He knew that you had never told Pete about the Navy, but he didn't know that even after nine years, your father was still unaware of your career. The others were confused and you could feel questioning gazes on you. Great way to begin this thing , you thought.

You were 27 and a very good pilot. An excellent one. One of the best. That's why you were here after all, wasn’t it ? You walked in your father’s footsteps, perhaps as talented as him at that age. But you were also as reckless as him, living up to your callsign. A tempest was never soft or delicate, neither were you. You had risked your life so many times in your five years of service. Tom often told you that you were just like your father and that it scared him. You didn’t think, you just did , you wanted to go faster, higher and further. Acting like the storm that you were, leaving your enemies confused by what had just happened. The adrenaline, the speed, the immensity of the sky, the feeling of freedom... you finally understood why Pete loved being in his plane so much. You felt a little closer to him in those moments.

And yet, in nine years of absence, he had never once contacted you. You had disappeared one day and he hadn't even looked for you. Your uncle had promised not to say anything about your career, but Pete hadn't even been interested in why or where you were going.

Seeing him angry made you furious . How could he have the nerve to be mad at you?

After the training and the 200 pushups you had to do because - of course - you didn't beat your old man, you stayed on deck and waited for the others to leave. Bradley gave you a little squeeze on the shoulder, as if to give you strength, and reluctantly left. You heard Hondo telling Pete to calm himself before saying things he might regret out of anger.

Once again, the silence between you and your father was heavy.

You couldn't take your eyes off him, waiting for him to finally speak. You could see that he was trying to stay calm. But you already felt like exploding . You could feel the reproaches, the so-called concern. You could feel that he wanted to push you away .

"Y/N... how did you... you went to the Academy behind my back?!"

"Iceman," you replied simply, your eyes and voice cold. "And you never asked where I was either."

"You-?! I should have known, you lied to me."

“It’s not lying if you’re not asked.” you mutter, “You taught me that.”

“Now’s not the time to play that game Y/N,” he snapped, "you can't be here."

"With all due respect, Captain, that's not your call."

You really tried to remain calm, knowing that the others must have been listening nearby - especially Jake. You didn't want to draw any more attention, but you felt your blood boiling under your skin.

"I will talk to Vice Admiral Simpson about this. I don't suppose anyone's made the connection between us. But now there's clearly a conflict of interest-"

"You have no right to take this mission away from me. It's not fair," you gasped, eyes wide.

"I am your father ! I can and will do it."

"What ?! No ! No, you can't ! 9 years of nothing but silence and now you're acting like a worried father ?!" you snapped, moving towards him and pointing an accusing finger. A nervous laugh escaped you and you sighed, pursing your lips. "Why do you always have to act like this ? You've never acted like a father to me, except to get in my way !"

"Get in your way ? No ! I care about you-"

"Really ?!" you cut him off, raising your voice, "Then where have you been for 9 years ?! What did Tom have to say to you that you weren't even lookin' for me ? Where was all this care when I left and you were not here ? Where were you huh ?! Where was all that concern ?!"

Pete's eyes widened and he searched for words. He should have known that he could not argue with your point so he just huffed then scolded. "I'm your captain, Lieutenant Evans ! Keep your voice down !"

"Oh, now it's not my father talking ?!" you couldn't hold back a nervous, fake laugh. "You see how you are ?! Always twisting things your way ?! Why are you avoiding that conversation ? Why are you running away again ?!" you’re almost screaming, inches close to him, eyes locked in his.

"Lieutenant Evans !" he growled. You grumbled and let out a heavy sight, calming yourself. You stepped back and clenched your fists along your body.

"Will that be all, Captain Mitchell ?"

You clenched your fists even harder, your knuckles turning white. You wanted to physically shake him to finally have answers. But you couldn’t, at least not here, not now.

"Y/N..." he huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Will that be all, Captain ?" you repeated, your voice slightly trembling. Tears of rage threatened to fall. You held them back, too proud to cry in front of him. Pete looked at you and sighed quietly.

"You're dismissed Lieutenant Evans..."

You left the deck with a quick stride. Your heart was pounding in your chest, a mixture of anger, frustration and sadness. Of course, the rest of the squadron was there, already clean and changed. Seeing the anger in your eyes, no one said a word, not even Hangman. He just stared at you, confused, as you slammed the door of the changing room.

Later that evening, as the squadron relaxed at the bar, Jake couldn't help but bring up the earlier scene.

"So our dear Tempest's dad is the famous Maverick?"

" He's not my father ," you muttered, finishing another beer. "My genitor maybe. But he's not my father."

"Why Evans if Mitchell's your old man?" Jake insisted.

You could hear Bradley and Natasha telling him to drop it, but he kept coming back. You could feel your anger rising again. You downed another beer and slammed the empty bottle down on the table.

"Tell me, Bagman , weren’t you taught to keep your mouth shut about things that don't concern you? I'm sure your mama taught you some manners, didn't she? Now shut up before I put my fist through your face," you growled, half drunk, half angry. Jake scoffed and held his hands up in defense while Bob stopped you from approaching him. Seeing your father enter the bar only made you feel worse. And it took all your patience not to slit Jake's throat on the spot as he continued his overly curious and unpleasant comments with his snide attitude.

Bradley went with you to get some fresh air as he wasn't too keen on seeing Pete either. When you arrived at the beach, a wave of sadness washed over you. You knew that your father would do everything in his power to get you out of this mission, but what was worse was that he didn't even try to talk to you, to reconnect. Your shoulders shook and you couldn't hold back the tears any longer. Only a sobbing hiccup betrayed you and Bradley rushed to take you in his arms. You felt the strength leave your legs and the two of you ended up sitting in the sand, crying your eyes out and clinging to Bradley. "I've got you... Let it all out..." he murmured between two kisses on the top of your head. His big hands gently stroked your back, letting go of all your pain. "It's okay, baby girl... it's okay..."

Bradley and you practically lived together now. You’ve inherited your mom’s old house by the ocean and it’s confier than being on base. So those kinds of pet names were almost common now. But this time you didn’t blush at it, your emotions a mess.

You cried against him for a long time, as you hadn't done for many years. Rooster held you until you calmed down. "It's not fair..." you whispered, sniffling. "He's going to take me off the mission..."

"He won't be able to... Ice recommended you... there's nothing he can do about it..."

You shrugged, not really sure if Tom could help you. He was very ill and you didn't want to tire him out with your disagreements with your father.

“He’s just an old dickhead, don’t worry…” Bradley tried to cheer you up but you’re too distraught to play along. After a little less than an hour later, you find the force to get up and you head home with him. You fall asleep in the car and wake up the next morning in your bed.

There wasn't much time left before the mission. Training sessions were coming up and so were your fights with Pete. Cyclone hadn't pulled you out of the mission, but you weren't sure if it was to spite your father or because he felt you were capable of succeeding, just like your comrades.

Days passed at an alarming pace. The team slowly bonded through group exercises and moments of relaxation, especially with the game your father had invented: dogfight football.

You couldn't lie, it felt good to have such moments. But your father still didn't talk to you and you were still angry. You remained professional, but you couldn't stand his fatherly attitude towards you.

All your hopes of renewing real ties disappeared when you learned of Tom's death. You had seen him the day before and he had made you promise to try to take care of Pete. His funeral was one of the hardest moments of your life.

And because bad news never comes alone, the mission was moved up by a week. Pete was temporarily relieved of his duties, as Admiral Simpson still believed his plan of attack was doomed to failure. Of course, your father, in his legendary arrogance and cockiness, proved him wrong with an unauthorized flight. Hope rose in the team but it was still a very risky plan.

Cyclone decided to make Pete team leader, and not surprisingly, he didn't choose you as his wingman. Part of you was angry because you felt you could do it, and another part of you was mortified when he announced that his choice would be Bradley. This mission was suicide, and you couldn't afford to lose them both. You couldn't afford to lose anyone in the squadron, but these two, it was just too much.

You didn't catch up with Pete as much as you wanted to, there were still so many questions left unanswered, so much time to make up for… You hadn't been able to make things right with your dad, you hadn't been able to tell him that you had this passion for aviation because of him. You hadn't been able to tell him that you regretted not telling him about the academy, that you regretted the 9 years of distance between you...

And you didn't spend enough time with Bradley.

Sure, you were always glued to each other in your free time, taking walks on the beach, talking and singing together at the Hard Deck piano, having movie nights... but you didn't want it to stop. Not after you'd half confessed how you felt about him after a few too many drinks, telling him that your 4-year-old declaration still stood. He laughed and told you that he hadn't forgotten either.

On the day of the mission, you barely managed to find your way to your father. "Captain?" your voice was louder than you had expected.

"Lieutenant Evans?"

"I... Before you go, I'd like to talk-"

"We'll talk when I get back."

"... Promise me you'll come back."

For a moment, you were that five-year-old girl again, watching her father leave. Pete must have seen it in your eyes and climbed down from the cockpit to take you in his arms. "I promise I'll come back in one piece, kiddo..." You hugged him tightly and nodded in agreement. After a few seconds, you let go and let him settle down. You ran to Bradley and made him promise you the same. He smiled confidently, even though you knew he was stressed. "Don't worry, we've got a Star Wars marathon to watch," he smiled before gently and discreetly kissing your forehead. You blushed and nodded, a worried little smile on your face.

Reluctantly, you left the track and joined Jake. You were glued to your radios, following the progress of the mission. Everything was going well until two enemy fighters spotted them.

You stopped breathing.

First they had Bradley in sight and locked on.

The enemy fired.

But your father took the brunt of the missiles and saved Rooster.

Your brain didn't know how to process all this information and shut down when you heard Bradley's decision to go after Pete before getting shot down too.

You don't remember much else. All you knew is that Jake had to leave in a hurry to find and rescue them. When they landed with that really out beat up F-14, you rushed out on deck to greet them, swallowing all your worry and anger at their unconscious behavior for the moment.

Once ashore, the entire crew decided to celebrate their success at Penny's Bar, dragging Pete with them. You stayed close to Bradley, as if afraid that it was all a dream and that he wasn't really there. He wouldn't let go of you either, his arm tight around you. You felt like a schoolgirl, it was stupidly comfortable. You looked at Pete, who was happily chatting with Penny and other members of the team. You didn't want to spoil the evening with a discussion that was out of your control…

Around one o'clock you went out for some fresh air, leaving Bradley to play with those who hadn't returned home yet ; Reuben, Natasha, Mickey and Javy.

As a cold shiver ran through you, you felt a heavy jacket on your shoulders. You immediately recognized the peculiar smell ; old whiskey mixed with motor oil and a hint of cologne.

" Dad ? "

"I thought you wanted to talk ?" he asked quietly, moving toward the beach. You nodded and took his pinky with yours like a child, searching for your words.

"I'm sorry..." you breathed, holding back your tears. "For going to the Academy behind your back and not telling you… not talking to you for almost ten years... I know that giving news is supposed to go both ways and all, but... but you weren't even there when I left... and I guess... I guess I resented you as much as I wanted you to be there, you know ?" you sniffed before continuing your monologue. "I just wanted you to see me . ‘Cause… it’s because of you I wanted to go down this road, you gave me this love for flight, for speed, for the sky. I... I just wanted you to be happy that we finally had something in common, but... but you had already pulled Bradley's papers, so I didn't think and I just did what seemed most logical and easiest. Take Mom's name, ask Ice not to tell you. I know it was stupid… but I also know it would have hurt too much if you had stopped me. And... And then no news for nine years... It hurt even more. The Academy and my first years of service weren't what I thought they would be... it was rough and sometimes I just… I just wanted to call you to come and pick me from there… but… but I wouldn't change that for the world. Because I’m still a Mitchell and Mitchells never quit right ?” You took a few seconds, your gaze meeting his, to see if he wanted to intervene but he didn’t. He just looked at you, taking all the information you gave him. You let out a shaky breath, playing with the sleeves of his jacket nervously. “And I know you must and may resent me for the rest of my life, but… but I just wanted you to be proud of me and... and for us to finally be a family." You bit your lip, trying to calm the flow of emotions that came through.

The sky began to rumble and your father remained silent after your speech. A few tears rolled down your cheeks as he couldn't find the words.

"Please, Dad, say something..." you sighed, your voice breaking.

The rain began to fall slowly and Pete's silence was too much for your heart to take. He couldn't even look at you anymore. You thought you could take it ; you were used to his silenced treatment, used to the fact that he couldn’t express his feelings. But right now, you needed him to speak, to ease your worries, to confront you.

"Dad... please... I'm begging you... talk to me…" you repeated desperately.

You broke down again and cried like a little girl in front of your mute father. You hated that he couldn't open up to you and you hated that he saw you so frail, so fragile. Your sobs mingled with the rain, which grew heavier, the wind and waves making the silence deafening. You bit your lip and wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, in vain.

"I know I'm not... I know you didn't plan… you didn’t want to have me with mom-"

"No, it's true... I never planned to be a father... The very idea of having children terrified me and still does," Pete interrupted you, "but... you're one of the most beautiful things, if not the most, that has ever happened to me. And I'm petrified of anything happening to you, I'm helpless on so many levels... and I... I didn't know how to be there when you needed me... I know I must have let you down a lot..." He sighed, catching his breath and holding back his own tears. "I thought... it would be best for both of us to let you have your freedom... but the weeks, months and years went by and I didn't have the guts to try to contact you. I was too ashamed... but Y/N, I never stopped loving you... you're my daughter... and even if you have my damn temper and your mom’s stubbornness," you couldn't hold back a little laugh and a slight smile despite your tears, which your father tenderly chased away with his thumb, "you'll always be my little girl, too eager to get on our little plane for a ride, passionate and fierce… I don’t resent you… I think I would have done it your way if my old man put me in this situation…" He allowed himself to cry as well as the two of you finally hugged each other, relieved of an enormous weight.

"I love you too, Dad... sorry for everything..." you mumbled against his shoulder.

"No, no… I’m sorry… It's my turn to apologize, sweetheart..."

The two of you lay embracing in the rain for a while, making up for years of distance in a few minutes. You were the first to let go. You once again took his hand like a child.

"We better get back before Hangman starts gossiping..."

"Or before Bradley starts worrying," Pete teased. You blushed and looked at him with wide eyes. "What? Like I haven't noticed the way you two look at each other. I'm not that blind kid!" He laughed “Ah… your mom and Carole would have been thrilled !”

You returned to the bar, soaking wet, chatting about anything and everything. Seeing you, Bradley's expression changed from worried to relieved, then back to worried as he noticed you were shivering a little from the cold. He politely left his conversation with Mickey to join you.

"Are you okay? Do you want to go home and change?"

"That would be a good idea..." you smiled at him. You had to admit you were exhausted from this rollercoaster of emotions. You said goodbye to the others from a distance, then to your father in a final hug, and followed Bradley back to his old blue Bronco. The two of you made your way to your small house.

Bradley was a good roommate. You each had your own room, but you often fell asleep together in front of the TV or on one of your beds after long late-night discussions. You liked the routine you created. And you hoped with all your might that nothing would change. But your feelings for him were becoming more and more obvious in your mind and heart. You wondered how much longer you could hide it.

Seeing you so silent, Bradley placed his hand on your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Are you all right, lil’ Tempest?"

His eyes never left the road as his thumb traced small circles on your jeans. A shiver ran through your entire body and you wished this contact would never end.

"Everything's fine Roo... don't worry..."

"Okay..."

He squeezed your knee again and left his hand on your thigh. The warmth of his palm made you shiver and you placed your hand on top of his shyly. Once again, you felt like a teenager. It was stupid.

The ride home was rather quiet, in a comforting way, Bradley driving carefully in the pouring rain and humming the song that passed on the radio. When he parked, you stayed in the car for a moment. You sensed that he had something he wanted to say to you, and he sensed the same thing on your side. After a few minutes of silence and shy glances, he smiled at you, got out of the car, and you followed. He ran to unlock the door and waited for you under the porch.

You wanted to run as well, but your legs felt heavy. That's when your anxiety decided to take over. The stress and worry of the past few days were finally catching up to you. As you saw Bradley step out into the rain with a worried expression, the conversation on the radio played in your head. Your father's F-18 had exploded, and Bradley was on his way to pick him up. And now it was his turn to go down. A huge pressure on your chest stopped you from breathing and new tears rolled down your cheeks. You couldn't move, pinned to the pavement. Silent sobs shook you as your vision blurred. You couldn't see or hear Bradley any more. You felt so alone, so cold. Your panic attack froze you under the heavy rain and you couldn't get out of it. You couldn't hear anything except the intense ringing in your ear. You wanted to throw up. The world spun around you as your mind screamed what the communications officer had said earlier, "Maverick's down ! Rooster's down !"

They were dead.

For the long forty minutes or so that followed, they were dead . And you were stuck in that loop. One minute everything was fine, the mission was a complete success. The next, the last two most important people in your life were dead. The ground began to feel strangely unstable as you fought harder to breathe. Eventually your legs gave out and you felt yourself fall, but you didn't hit the ground. You felt two arms around you, holding you securely but not too tightly, then lifting you up as if you weighed nothing. The buzzing in your ears slowly faded away and you didn't feel the rain on your skin anymore. You gasped for air when you finally heard Breadley call your name, concern in his voice. As you raised your eyes to look at him, a sudden relief washed over you and you couldn't help but sob again.

He was home. You were home. With him.

"What's going on, Y/N? Hey... Breathe... breathe and talk to me..." he said quietly.

"I thought... I thought you and Dad... you... you were dead..." you managed to say between sobbing hiccups. You clung to his shirt, afraid he would fade away. He smiled a little and kissed the top of your head as he cupped your cheeks with his calloused hands. Then he took your hands and laid them flat on his heart. You could feel it beating at a regular pace.

"I'm here. I’m okay. You're okay. I'm very much alive, Mav is too, and you're stuck with me, with us, little Tempest..."

"Yeah ? Promise ?" you sniffed, your lower lip still trembling.

"Yeah... Promise." he smiled at you again then hugged you tightly.

He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, the bristles of his mustache tickling you a little. One of your hands reached up to his neck, your fingers brushing his little hair. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, absorbing each other's presence. You felt so relaxed in his arms, as if you belonged there. Your heart fluttered as you heard him hum one of your favorite songs and then felt him beginning to slow dance with you, taking you peacefully to the bathroom. You were too exhausted and shaken from your panic attack to even ask him what he was doing. You just obliged and listened to him, hypnotized. He declared that you needed a long relaxing bath and in the meantime he would order pizza. He helped you take off your shoes and socks, then your hoodie. He kissed your forehead and let you finish undressing, leaving the bathroom to give you some privacy.

You couldn’t stay too long in the bath, your mind being too loud. You knew you would break down again if you weren’t close to him . Bradley made you feel safe, secure, grounded. That was what you needed to relax. You were so used to being alone before, used to the silence, the empty rooms. But since he decided to kind of move in with you, you couldn’t bear the loneliness. The house was so warm now, so welcoming and comfy.

As you crossed his room after you’ve washed, you noticed that old hoodie you bought him one Christmas when you were in naval school. It’s a silly one, the hood designed to look like a rooster. An amused sigh escaped you and you took it to wear. It was still as soft and comfy as the day you bought it.

“Stealing my clothes I see ?” he chuckled when you joined him in the kitchen.

“Stealing my beers I see ?” you teased him back, pointing at the bottle in his hand, “I thought cranberry beers were for chicks ?”

“Mama Carole didn’t raise me to be picky” He scoffed in défense, with a smirk.

“Oh I know she didn’t. And my mama didn’t raise me to steal, I’m just borrowing that hoodie.” you smiled, putting the hood on. “Look, we’re twins now, Rooster !”

The both of you laughed at that stupid joke. He then smiled at you and put a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Feeling better sweets ?”

“Yeah… sorry about that I… I think these past days were a bit too much for my brain…”

“Don’t be sorry… it’s normal to break sometimes… everyone does.”

You hummed and nodded, but before you could talk, the doorbell rang. “Must be the pizzas ! Get yourself comfortable on the couch and choose a movie Y/N, I’ll be right back !” He kissed your cheek, close to your lips - too close - and ran to the door. You stood there for a moment, cheeks and heart warming up, before doing what he asked you. Once again, you felt like a schoolgirl at her first sleepover with her crush. You couldn’t help but feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach and your face turning a bit red.

You should tell him. But you risked losing that friendship you had. And at the same time, you wanted more than that. You wanted to feel his arms around you, his lips - oh those lips - on you, to wake up next to him each and every morning in your bed… You fantasized about a life with him for a minute, not noticing him getting back with the food. You jumped slightly when he waved his hand in front of your eyes to snap you out of your reverie. Your gaze locked with his as he asked if everything was all right.

"Yes, yes... I was just lost in thought..." you smiled shyly, your cheeks flushed, letting him settle in beside you. He took the plaid to cover both of you, then put his arm around your shoulders.

"And what were you thinking about? Or who?" He teased.

"About us, actually..."

"Us?" He said, a little surprised.

Your cheeks were crimson. You'd said too much already. You couldn't run anymore. You just nodded, not daring to meet his gaze. You felt him come closer and turn a little towards you after a few seconds of silence.

"Me too, I have to admit..."

"Really?" you almost whispered, looking up at him. He smiled and nodded.

"Yeah... to tell you the truth, I like it here, but... I don't want to be just another roommate anymore. We're pretty similar in a lot of things, Phoenix even says we look like an old married couple that's always jammed together." You chuckled a little but couldn't help but agree. Bradley smiled a little before continuing, a little nervously. "And... the crash, almost getting killed... It made me realize a lot of things... like the fact that I didn't want to lose you. And that... maybe... the fact that I felt so comfortable with you meant... meant more than friendship..."

Your heart raced in your chest. Was he going to confess what you were thinking? You bit the inside of your cheek to prove to yourself that you weren't dreaming, and before he could continue, you pulled him by his collar and crushed your lips against his. The kiss was desperate, as if you needed it to keep on living. Bradley didn't waste a second in responding, one of his hands sliding up your cheek and the other down your back to press you against him. You would have liked that moment to last forever, but the lack of air forced you to pull away a little. He pressed his forehead against yours and let out a small laugh. "I guess it's mutual, then?"

"You're a little genius aren’t you ?" You couldn't help but tease him before kissing him again.

You felt so good against him, kiss after kiss. You felt complete, soothed.

And you could easily get used to it .

#top gun maverick #top gun imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #dad pete mitchell #reader is pete daughter #jake seresin #bob floyd #penny benjamin #tom iceman kazansky #carole bradshaw #angst with a happy ending #pov second person

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gothgleek · 2 months

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Agnus Tully- NSFW Alphabet

I do not own the Holdovers nor the images used in this post. All thoughts are my own. The borders are from @saradika-graphics

TW: sexual acts, kinks, parental issues, mention of mental hospitals, porn.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated but not required 🌸🌼🌸

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Really cuddly and clingy but quiet. He’ll pepper you with kisses and praise, but he’s the one who needs more attention afterwards.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

We all know Agnus is a breast man. You will need to snap your fingers a few times before his eyes can tear away from looking down your shirt. Pervert.

He also LOVES biting them and marking you up.

His favorite part of himself is his legs. He takes a lot of pride of being tall and take any opportunity he can to show them off. Hence the James Bond trunks.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He has a paralyzing fear of parenthood but he LOVES cumming inside you unprotected. Especially if he can watch it drip out of you before he eats you out. He wouldn’t mind painting your tits with his cum either. He’ll take a pic of you like that too and ruin it later.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He steals your underwear and uses it to jerk off. He’s also into roleplay but he hasn’t found the right time to bring it up.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

His only previous experience comes from porno mags. Maybe he had a partner or two in college, but I doubt it got anywhere emotionally. Regardless, you’re his first MAJOR relationship either as FWB or serious partners.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Mating press. Pretzel dip. The butterfly. As long as he can stare into your eyes and have your legs in his hands, he will be a happy man. Also you against the wall, him in his knees so he can give you oral and try to make your legs shake.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Half his dirty talk is him being sarcastic shit. Other times he has to keep himself from laughing at your cum drunk expressions because he’s proud he did that to you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

This is the 70s so he’s trying to grow chest hair and a bush. However, he’s very particular and he trims himself.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Once he’s in love, he will make sure you know. However, he’s still Agnus so he might be a little shit about it. He’ll whisper sweet nothings while pounding you or while he teases you. Nonetheless, he’s his most romantic during aftercare.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As much as he tries to deny it, he loves jacking off. The dorms make it hard for him to do it as much as he wants but as soon as he’s whipping it out. He’s quick too, to the point he was worried he wouldn’t be able to control himself when he fucks you. Thankfully that’s not an issue.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Taking pics of you as we’ve established. Role-play as well. Due to his many boarding schools, he’s developed an appreciation for uniforms. He’s also warming up to having a minor religious kink. The two of you definitely role played as James Bond and a damsel before though.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s got an exhibitionist kink in him so the woods and library are the most fun for him. One time the two of you fucked at an open air concert. But he loves fucking in his room so the two of you can nap and cuddle after.

He hates the beach though. He took you on a family vacation once and sand got everywhere when the two of you fucked.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Thank god for the sexual revolution and its hatred for bras. Low cut tops and kindness. That’s what attracts him to you. Also when you wear a low cut top and beat him at pinball, that’s when he is all over you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Restraining him (ropes, handcuffs, etc.) reminds him of his father so that’s a no-go. Maybe he’ll warm up to the idea of restraining you but not for a long time. Nurse roleplay he’s on the fence about because he could jack off to the idea or a pic of a sexy nurse but he could not get turned on irl for similar reasons. Also not fond of daddy kinks but would be open to a mommy kink. He’s not gonna talk to a therapist about it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves eating you out. And then you introduce him to rimming and he is excited about tasting more of you. He doesn’t even need to touch himself, he will rut against the bed while eating you out. He loves your blowjobs as well but he keeps his hands to himself, pulling his sheets and clawing the walls.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He actually prefers slow and sensual (though no less kinky). Why shouldn’t he take his time with you? Even if it’s a quickie his mouth is everywhere on you, drawing it out as much as possible.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

While he loves taking his time, he has an appreciation for quickies as well given the lack of privacy he’s always had. If you fucked before dating, it would’ve been mostly quickies but now that you’re together, it’s longer. He’s more willing to have a quickie when it’s a stressful time for the both of you (family trouble, finals week, traffic jam, etc.).

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

The great part about the 70s is the sexual revolution. He would be down to experiment with almost anything. Repression is known for creating super kinky people after all. Both of you keep notes about each place and position you’ve fucked, well well as a running list of what kinks you would try again.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

When you first get together, he doesn’t last very long but after a quick break, he’s ready to go again.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Thanks to the sexual revolution (and his wallet), the two of you have more than enough toys. Unfortunately Google tells me sex toys were scary looking during this time so the once the excitement of sex toy shopping wears off, you really only stick to the vibrators. Maybe once nipple clamps are more popular, he’ll have you wear them as well. Your favorite toy to share is the famous hitachi massager.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves teasing you soooo much. He’s such an asshole about it too, teasing you anywhere from a car ride to the library to bed. He enjoys someone he can banter with too so he will take anything you’ve said to him and throw it back in your face later. Absolute menace.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s chatty at first (he LOVES dirty talk) but when he really gets into it, he will just be panting, all words lost. When he finishes, it’ll be a low moan in your ear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s a biter and will mark the hell out of you. Especially your thighs and breasts and ass. Also he had, at one point, made a sex playlist but stopped using it when he couldn’t hear you over the music.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Long but not girthy. Curved. Cut. Grower, not a shower. A nice little happy trail as well.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high. The poor guy is so touch starved, he can’t keep his hands off you. Even if he’s not horny, he acts like it and is always touching you, just so he can tease you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He needs to hold onto you before he falls asleep. He’s secretly romantic and likes to match your breathing and circle his thumb in your skin. When it’s a quickie though? He turns into the energizer bunny and won’t burn out until hours later.

#angus tully #the holdovers #angus tully x reader #angus Tully imagine #angus tully smut #reader imagine #fanfic #mine

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piratefishmama · 1 year

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Pt1

It continues, also with Robin. She leaves Steve on that floor, pathetically cycling through this random metalheads video game music repertoire, sending a silent apology for her fallen friend to the lady in the apartment below them, sure she got to hear Steve practicing his songs every now and then which was a blessing, but she also now had to deal with his pathetic puppy crush as well.

Sorry two (definitely not house-trained) poodle owning lady, Robin sent her condolences for her hearing. But only a little condolence, one of those dogs had left a steamer in the elevator and it was a tall-ass apartment block. Karma really, sweet sweet karma.

It continued because Robin had a mild gift for hunting people down on the internet, it was a skill she’d developed and honed purely to hunt down the assholes who occasionally popped up on Steve’s insta with threatening messages and dumb as shit behaviours that a best friend refused to abide by. Steve had never allowed her to do anything with the knowledge, but one day, one day, the dogs of war would be released, and she would rain fury down upon them for making him make the sad puppy eyes.

He was just a dude, sure he grew up with wealthy parents, sure he had connections since birth to help him get to where he wanted to be, but… that didn’t make him any less of a soft-ass with a genuine love of sports, and sweaters, and listening to audio books in reading nooks with mugs of coffee like some kind of pinterest mood board model.

That didn’t make him any less of an actual mother hen to several child actors and young musicians ensuring they got fair treatment, ensuring they were never taken advantage of by the industry or the people around them.

It continued because within an hour of sleuthing, Robin poked her head back around from Steve’s guest room (read: Robin’s second home), and proudly announced “Found him!” As loud as she could to get over the cover of the final boss battle from Banjo and Kazooie that Steve absolutely did not recognise but was clearly vibing to.

“Found who?”

“Your mystery hater! He’s a—”

“Robin!! You can’t dox people!!”

“I’m not doxing him, I’m telling you exactly where he is so you can go confront him.”

“That is exactly what doxing is. How did you even find him?!”

“Dumbass posted a pic of a newspaper article that his friend wrote, which, uhm, that’s pretty cool I guess, but it had her name on it! All I had to do was search LinkedIn for her and boom, I gottem.”

“…Okay so he’s basically asking to be found is what you’re saying right now.”

“EXACTLY, can we go? Can we? I wanna see him squirm like a little bitch baby when you turn up to confront him.”

“All you’ll see is my pathetic attempts to flirt with him because I don’t know how I’d be anything but pathetic around him I mean have you seen his hands? Do you remember the Hemsworth incident? Do you remember the Hemsworth incident, Robin?” The incident in question involving a low doorway and a concussion that left him delirious in the fantastic arms of the God of Thunder.

“Do I remember you acting like a drunk school girl with her first crush around a guy with biceps bigger than your head? Yes. Yes I do. It was hilarious and you gained a handsome Aussie as a life-long friend out of that pathetic display—"

“I was concussed.”

“Drunk school girl. That doesn’t mean you can’t manage to charm a little bitch from Indiana, we’re from Indiana, we have common ground, you can bond with him!”

“Oh, because being born within the same state makes for such a conversation starter… should we really go?” Would that be stupid? Would that be crossing a line? Would that be absolutely batshit insane?

“For true love—" and champagne in First-Class "I think we should.”

“…Fine.”

Part 3

#Steddie #PirateWrites #ficlet #I DONT EVEN HAVE A NAME FOR THIS ONE #but it's in demand apparently so here #take it #Stranger Things AU

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solar-wing · 14 days

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⚣ Open Arms ♾️

⚣♾️ A/N → yall betta love my butt from dawn till dusk and kiss it from dusk till dawn. 25K WORDS?!?!?! EXCUSE ME?! Anyway, another request done! This was an anonymous one, though that I got from my previous account but never did. So, whoever sent this in, I hope you see and enjoy it! Gotta say, it definitely feels good getting these requests out of my inbox. Well, my screenshots, at least. I used this request as a continuation of a previous fic I did, which you can read here: ⚣ Forever 💛 You can read this as a standalone, but I recommend reading the previous part beforehand for context. ALSO HERE'S THE ANGST YALL WANT SO BAD FROM ME YOU FIENDS! NOW GET🤺 GET🤺 BACK I SAY🤺 WARNINGS: Mentions of Death | Angst/Comfort | Emotional Fluffy Vibes | TW: Neglectful Parenting | Implied smexy stuff but compared to what I write, it's literally nothing | ETC

⚣♾️ Summary → Conner couldn't let it go; wouldn't let it go. He was out there somewhere, lost and afraid. His instincts have never lied to him in the past, and he was certain they weren't starting now, no matter how much the Team thought he was holding on to lost hope. They made a promise to each other, and Conner planned on keeping that promise no matter what.

⚣♾️ Words → 25.6K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY ♾️

How long is forever?

By definition: it means ‘for all future time; for always.’ Another line says ‘lasting or permanent.’ That’s what it was supposed to mean by the books at least. When he promised he would stay forever, that’s what he was supposed to do. That’s what he should've done.

Guess not all promises were meant to be kept, and words were really just that, words. No power to them at all.

Whoever said the pen is mightier than the sword, Conner wanted to meet that guy just to show him how wrong he was, possibly with an actual sword if he had his way, but, hopefully, that wouldn’t happen.

Hopefully.

It had been over a year since Y/N’s disappearance. A year since he up and blinked out of Conner’s life, his friend's lives, and so on. There wasn’t a day that the young superhero didn’t find himself dreaming or thinking about Y/N. He’d catch himself frequently getting lost in remembering the way his smile always put him in a good mood.

When he was happy, Conner was happy.

Truthfully, he felt as if everything that happened before he met the young super was less significant now. Everything that happened before the two met didn’t matter anymore. Only what happened then and in the future.

Not even the day when Dick, Wally, and Kal found him at Cadmus and set him free. Or when Batman and the Justice League set him and his new friends up with their own headquarters and stealth team. Not even the day when he finally seemed to have Superman’s acceptance and bond as a mentor and family figure.

Before Y/N, life was just that; life. Something where he got up every day, worked out or trained with the team, went to school, beat up bad guys, and then went home to do it again. All those were supposed to be exciting things, for him at least, since those were things he never had or would’ve gotten to experience had it not been for his ‘liberation.’

At the time, that could’ve meant something special to him. But then some new guy stumbled into his life and fucked everything up.

“Heard we’re supposed to be getting a new recruit,” Wally mentioned as he and Kal were currently sparring in the training circle.

“Yeah, me too, or at least I read about it. Saw his file on the Batcave and read over it. There wasn’t much detail in there besides a little bit of his background. He goes to that really prestigious boarding school in the Midwest and his family is one of the most elite and wealthiest families on the East Coast.” Robin said as he was typing away at the computer.

“Great. Another spoiled rotten rich kid on the team. Sounds awesome,” Artemis uttered while organizing her arrow pack.

“Hey, I’m not rotten!” The Boy Wonder responded, feigning offense.

“Ah, but you weren’t offended by the spoiled rich part. Point still stands then,” Artemis smirked.

“Why do we even need another person? It’s not like we’re lacking or anything.” Conner proclaimed, his arms crossed in his usual defiant manner as his face held not an ounce of joy on it.

“I don’t know, I think it’d be nice to have a new member as a part of the team. It’s always great to meet new people. And who knows, maybe they can help us be even better.” M’Gann spoke.

“So you think we’re bad and need improvement,” Conner responded with an accusatory tone.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I just don’t think it’s bad if we learn from other people.” She responded, though slightly more irritable than before.

Part of the reason why she had no problem when Conner proposed they split up and just remain friends/teammates was not having to deal with his mood swings and attitude all the time. Don’t get her wrong though, he was a great boyfriend, inside and outside. But, it was clear to her that she was not a high priority on Conner’s radar.

Superboy was still getting to know who he was and understanding his place in this world, and that came with understanding his emotions and how they responded to certain situations. As time passed, he realized his ‘feelings’ or what he thought were feelings for the Martian girl were nothing more than platonic.

A byproduct of his exposure to the outside world, and society’s definition of a ‘normal’ relationship, which usually consisted of a handsome, strong fella and a nice, pretty gal. He figured that was the role he had to take on. However, after some time, realizing how forced and unhappy he felt with the role he placed himself in, it created a wedge between the two superheroes, thus prompting them to end their relationship on good terms.

Conner had things he needed to work through, and M’Gann wanted someone who put her first before anything else.

“I agree with M’Gann. Meeting different people and learning from their stories is always a valuable lesson. You never know how they could impact you in the present and the future,” Kal commented after beating Wally in their match, the floor lighting up to announce the speedster’s defeat.

Conner only let out a displeased grunt in response before the sound of the Zeta Gateway activating caught his and everyone else’s attention.

Everyone was a little apprehensive about adding a new member to the Team in the beginning, even M’Gann and Kaldur despite their positive attitudes. They had a dynamic, a flow that worked for them, and they were all more or less living by the line of thinking that if something wasn’t broken, why try and fix it?

But, change was inevitable. And, this change may have been something they all could happily get used to, seeing how the recruit seemed to tame their hot-headed Kryptonian the moment he walked into the mission room.

Okay, not tame in a way like he was an animal, but more in the manner of calming down. It was no secret that everyone knew Superboy had a bit of a temper and given his biology and nature, Wally once made a joke that they all should bring hard hats to the Cave just in case Conner was in a bad mood and needed to punch something.

He didn’t find it amusing, but he also couldn’t deny the truth of it. It became something the Kryptonian sort of obsessed over and wanted to change about himself. Especially in front of the recruit who he couldn’t understand why for the life of him he cared so much about what they thought about him.

He didn’t even realize how much he was trying to show himself as a level-headed person in front of the new guy until M’Gann pulled him aside one day and asked why he was acting so weird.

He tried to deny it at first, claiming he wasn’t acting weird at all and M’Gann was reading too much into something that wasn’t there. As expected, the Martian didn’t let it go and decided to present evidence to back up her claim.

She brought up the first week Y/N spent at the Cave, and Conner didn’t necessarily come off as anxious, but everyone could tell he was nervous, which had them all puzzled. Before then, it was rare (try never) that any of them would see the Kryptonian nervous or anxious about something. And if he was, he’d usually mask it with anger or disdain.

Yet, after meeting the new hero on their team, something about all of that changed.

“I wonder what kind of abilities he has,” M’Gann wondered aloud, an excited look on her face as everyone stood by the entryway to the Zeta Gateway.

“There wasn’t anything recorded in the file on the Batcomputer. Maybe he’s another vigilante like Artemis and me.” Robin said.

“Hopefully, a better one than Bird Boy.” The snarky smirk the archer currently held was met with an unpleasant look from the Boy Wonder before their attention was redirected to the gateway, hearing the computer announcing their mentor's arrival.

Batman, Superman, and Flash came through one by one, while being followed by another individual none of them had recognized. The computer announced their name as a guest, which Robin figured was because he wasn’t fully registered into the Justice League systems yet.

He had a puzzling feeling about why Batman was being more secretive around this individual, seeing as he usually puts every single detail he can find on a person of interest into a file. Plus, he would always have things like registrations and paperwork taken care of before anything else was done.

Not to say it made him suspicious, but he was curious.

The others waited patiently while their superiors came into the mission room, followed by the individual who was carrying a small designer duffle bag. His clothes and look were simple, and he held a genuine and curious look in his eyes, tinged with a bit of uncertainty that Superboy managed to pick up as well from how hard he was staring and analyzing the boy from the moment he walked in. Though, if you asked him, he’d most definitely say he was not staring.

It wasn’t obvious, as the guy took whatever measures he could to hide it, but he could tell the young man came from wealth. It was a familiar aesthetic and look that the Kryptonian had come to learn by being friends with Boy Wonder and all, even if he wasn’t necessarily born into a rich family.

Plus, through certain missions and social events his ‘status’ would get him into, he’d had his fair share of interactions and hand-shaking with those who had more money than they would ever need. He’d begun to learn their various looks and covers. Most were unpleasant, hiding underneath a vain and inflated sense of superiority. Something he almost could relate to at one point, considering he used to believe his powers and abilities put him above everyone.

This guy was different, though. Conner couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about him was intriguing. Nobody he had ever met before made the young Kryptonian feel whatever that Earth saying was he’d heard M’Gann rambling about one time. Something about butterflies in the stomach.

Why one would even eat a butterfly was beyond him. Yet, the feeling she described was exactly what Conner was feeling in his stomach at the moment. His first immediate thought was that his stomach was broken and it took Zatanna, Artemis, and M’Gann explaining it with the help of Black Canary that a week and a half later he was nervous or scared.

“Hello, everyone. As I’m sure you’re already aware, we’ve decided to recruit a new addition to your team. His name is Y/N, and he’ll be staying here at the Cave for a few weeks while we get more details situated. Y/N, meet your new team.”

Everyone introduced themselves one by one to the recruit, and since Conner was on the end, he was the last one to be greeted which he now regretted. He started going over in his head how he should say ‘hi’, not wanting to come off too aggressive where he scared him, but also not wanting to sound like he was some weakling.

It took getting an elbow shoved into his side from Robin for him to notice everyone looking at him, including the reason for his distantness.

“Oh, uh… Sorry. Hello, I’m Boysuper.”

Everyone started laughing, including Superman and Flash, and Conner swore he saw a hint of a chuckle from Batman as well. It wasn’t until he thought back on his words and realized his mistake that he blushed embarrassingly. Though everyone found it funny, they were all more or less completely thrown off.

This behavior was completely out of character for Boysuper! If someone were writing a character analysis of him, they’d say this was completely unimaginable and not realistic at all. It wasn’t anything like him or something he would do.

Which is exactly what made it all the more shocking and funny.

Y/N, also tickled by the name mistake, gave him grace and just pretended it didn’t happen.

“Hi Superboy, nice to meet you.” His smile was something that clouded Conner's thoughts, focusing in on the innocence in his face and the twinkle in his eye as he looked back into the Kryptonian’s eyes.

For a fleeting moment, Superboy forgot everyone else was there as he reached his hand out to shake the others. As far as he knew, Kryptonians didn’t sweat, yet his palms felt hot and they felt damp. He was almost scared to touch the boy’s hand, thinking the man would find him gross and disgusting perspiring in his palm.

It didn’t happen, though. They shook hands, and Conner got a weird tingle up his arms that had him freaking out even more on the inside. But, the smile on Y/N’s face kept him rooted. Kept him from leaping off the ground like a spooked cat who’d just been electrocuted.

Despite his nervous feelings, seeing the beautiful face smiling at him made him feel happy on the inside. It was a nice feeling, a very welcomed feeling. Something he wanted to cherish and protect forever.

Wait, did he say beautiful?

At some point, Black Canary along with Superman helped explain to Superboy what he was feeling of desire and attraction, and that it was completely normal to have those feelings, no matter who they were aimed at.

Artemis was a little less careful and just stated the simple truth.

“You’ve got a crush lover-boy.”

Everyone chuckled and laughed at the statement and the somewhat irony behind the revelation.

That day, Y/N changed his perspective on the meaning and purpose of life. Before, he didn’t see the significance in the saying ‘You only live once.’ True, you do only live once, but if you live to do the same thing over and over each day, then what’s the point of living at all?

What was the point of getting to know things or wanting to improve and get better at something when we all had the same eventual fate, give or take how many years it took for it to come? What did life really mean if all it had was for you to wake up and do the same thing you did yesterday and the day before that?

It was one of the constant questions he had mulled over in his head since his liberation from Cadmus and being welcomed into the Team. His first and only purpose in life was to be a weapon. Now, besides doing good and saving the world now and then, he had the chance to do something meaningful with his life.

He just didn't know what meaningful was.

Until he met Y/N, who from the very moment they met had a way of bringing out the best in Conner and making him want to be a better person. It wasn't like the Kryptonian was a bad guy or anything. In fact, he was a great friend, teammate, and hero. But, there was something about the boy that just made him want to be a better version of himself.

Even despite the rocky start to their relationship.

"I'm telling you, there's something up with that kid. Batman said something about them needing to do 'more tests' and that he couldn't return back until they were sure he wouldn't be a liability," Conner spoke with his teammates in one of the library rooms in their base.

Conner had recently overheard a conversation between Y/N and Batman when he was going to try and 'confess' his feelings for him as his friends had encouraged him to do, even M'Gann. But, those plans were halted when he overheard the Dark Knight talking to the recruit about tests and making sure they wouldn't be bugged.

He mentioned something about the school Y/N was attending and how they also had to make sure his parents wouldn't be a liability or get caught in the crossfire. The biggest thing that caught the Kryptonian's attention was when Batman said he had to absolutely keep his full identity a secret from the rest of the team, especially from Conner himself.

And, no matter how sad and reluctant Y/N sounded when he agreed to Batman's instructions and feeling a strong urge to comfort him, he didn't waste a second before running back to his friends and telling them everything. After the Red Tornado ordeal with his siblings, he didn't want to take any chances, no matter how his heart felt.

Everyone seemed on the fence though when he first told them. They all had gotten along really well with Y/N during his first few days and didn't want to think the guy could be a threat to him. But, they'd all learned from their mistakes in the past, and so decided they needed more information before they proceeded with anything.

Dick had pointed out that there still wasn't much in Y/N's file that he could find besides his background. The only solid things he was able to find were about his parents and how they shared very similar views with Lex Luthor on supers. It wasn't enough for them to outright accuse him of being up to no good but it was something for them to look into.

The Boy Wonder suggested the best way to learn more about him was to spy on him, and despite how much it didn't feel right to Conner, he agreed to do it. They know confronting him directly wasn't the best strategy, especially if he was being told by Batman to not reveal anything to them. They needed to be covert.

That's what led them to this moment right now. Conner had just overheard another of Y/N's conversations, only this time he was talking to his parents. Everything seemed fine at first, despite the obvious fact that his parents had no clue their son was currently living in a cave with a bunch of teenage superheroes and vigilantes. The Kryptonian was ready to call it quits, already feeling guilty enough for listening in on such a private conversation until...

"Yeah, everything's great at the school. I'm having a lot of fun and have met some very interesting people. And, yes, Uncle Lex has been really nice to me. His tests have been effective so far and he's confident he'll reach a solution soon."

That confirmed everything the Kryptonian and the others needed to know. They were all convinced Y/N was a mole sent here to spy on them and the Justice League for Lex Luthor. They were going to bring it to Batman, but Dick once again pointed out the conversation Conner heard earlier between the Dark Knight and the recruit, and that he was probably already aware of everything and was investigating on his own.

But this was their team, and they were going to do whatever they could to protect it. So, they decided to set up a trap for the mole.

Dick created a fake mission while Wally, Artemis, and Zantanna went to recruit Y/N to come with them. They spun a fake story about the League being in danger and that they needed all hands on deck. Of course, Y/N was willing to help them. He didn't ask questions and just followed them to where they were supposed to meet up with the others.

They had to wait for a few minutes for everyone else to arrive. Y/N was sitting on the ground, waiting patiently and trying to make conversation with everyone. When they finally arrived, Dick began his 'fake' briefing.

He decided to trust them, but something still felt off. And he didn't know why, but the look Conner was giving him let him know he wasn't being given the full truth.

"Alright, team. We have a situation. The League has been compromised and we're the only ones who can save them."

"What's going on?" Y/N asked, confused.

"The League has been captured and is being held by Lex Luthor. We don't know what he's planning, we only know that they need our help," Dick explained, not even batting an eye at the ridiculousness of the situation he was describing.

"And, how do you know all this?" Y/N questioned, confused as to why Batman wasn't the one giving the briefing.

"Batman told us before he got captured. He managed to send us a signal before Luthor's goons cut him off. We're the only ones who can help," Artemis added.

"How do we know they're really in trouble?" Y/N inquired, looking at everyone and their lack of gear or weapons.

"We have to trust Batman," Wally answered, trying his best to act as natural as possible.

"I don't know, guys. Something doesn't feel right about this," Y/N muttered, trying to figure out what was happening.

"Y/N, we're the only ones who can save Batman, the Flash, and the others. We need you," M'Gann pleaded, placing her hand on his shoulder.

Y/N was hesitant, not sure if what they were saying was true. He thought back on his conversation with Batman and how he made him promise not to tell the team about him and his family until they had everything figured out. But, if he was really in danger...

"Okay. Let's go."

And that's how Y/N found himself tied to a tree in a random park near his boarding school. A convenient location, the others thinking it would trick a confession out of the mole. But, when Y/N instead was warning them that by bringing him there, they were putting not only him in danger, but themselves and the League.

They didn't believe him at first, thinking this was just the cover story he was using if he got caught. But, then Batman, Superman, and the Flash found the young team of heroes and vigilantes would soon realize their mistake.

"Tell us the truth, now! Why are you here?" Kaldur demanded.

"I'm telling you I don't know what you're talking about," Y/N insisted.

"How dumb do you think we are? We know you're working with Lex Luthor. Just admit it!" Artemis spat, annoyed that the boy was trying to lie to their faces.

"Yeah!" Wally added, throwing peanuts from his snack compartment at the boy's face.

"Seriously, KF?" Dick said.

"What? Maybe if he has a peanut allergy, this will make him fess up."

"I don't have a peanut allergy."

"Oh, well. Now, it's just for fun," Kid Flash said before throwing more at him.

"Okay, this is just getting ridiculous. We know you're working with Luthor. I overheard your little conversation with your parents about Uncle Lex's tests," Conner said, his tone carrying its usual hard edge, but not as much aggression as it would be for someone else.

"You were eavesdropping on me?"

"That's not important. What's important is you confessing what you're doing here. What are you trying to do? What's your mission?"

"I don't have a mission. I don't know what you're talking about and what you overheard, you heard out of context," Y/N stated, the last part aimed at Conner who looked away from his hurt gaze.

"Y/N, please," M'Gann pleaded.

"I'm telling you the truth. I'm not working for anybody, and even if I was, it wouldn't be with Lex Luthor of all people. But, we seriously need to leave. We're not too far from the school, and if he finds out I was here, with all of you out of all people, it's going to cause more trouble than ever."

"Alright, Zatanna. Truth spell him..."

"He's already telling the truth."

Everyone turned around to see Batman, Superman, and Flash approaching with not-very-pleased looks. Then again, when has Batman ever looked pleased?

"Then, why didn't you tell us?" Dick asked with an accusatory tone toward his mentor.

"Because we didn't want this to happen," Flash stated, looking over at Y/N and the mess their young protegees made.

"What, so you don't trust us all of a sudden?" Artemis accused.

"This had nothing to do with trust, it had everything to do with a delicate situation."

"What situation?" Wally asked.

"A delicate one," Batman reiterated.

"Y/N is being used by Lex Luthor," Superman began explaining.

"So, he's not a mole?" M'Gann asked.

"No, he's not a mole. He's actually the exact opposite. His family is a known affiliate of Lex Luthor, and he's been using their known distrust of Superman, myself, and the rest of the League as a way to perform experiments on him with the promise of removing his powers at the request of his parents. However, someone like Lex, we can be sure has other purposes for these experiments. Purposes he intends to use for his own advantage and as a means to target the League," Batman continued.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Conner questioned, feeling even more guilty while glancing back at the recruit who was currently rubbing his wrists, having been freed from his restraints by Superman.

"Because we didn't want you getting involved. Lex has eyes and ears everywhere, especially in that school, and if he were to discover our involvement, it could put Y/N and his family in danger," The older Kryptonian pointed out, while placing a reassuring hand on the younger male's shoulder, who held a slightly worried look at the mention of his parents being put in possible danger.

Despite his still guilty feelings, something in him felt he should have gone over to comfort the younger male. He along with the rest of his teammates apologized to Y/N for their distrust before making their way back to Mount Justice.

Since everything was out in the open, Batman gave Y/N the okay to share with the others everything about his background. And share he did. He told the entire story of how everything came to be.

His parents had always been more or less distrusting towards Superman, The Flash, Wonder Woman, etc., and saw their powers and abilities not as ways that could help protect regular people like themselves and others, but as a means to oppression. They felt the very thing that made them superheroes gave them an unfair advantage over others.

Kind of how other people saw their super wealthy status as an unfair advantage over people of a lower class but that's another discussion for another day.

So imagine their surprise when their very own son ended up manifesting his own powers early on in his childhood. It started with small things like enhanced durability and moving at inhuman speeds.

But then, when it turned into being able to fly and manipulating energies in his teenage years, his parents had had enough. They were afraid their son was going to become just like the superheroes they hated so much. And, they were afraid of what he could do if his powers became too out of control.

So, they did the only thing they could think of.

They turned to Lex Luthor for help.

They told him about their situation and how they were desperate for help. They didn't want their son to be a danger to himself or others. Lex promised them he'd do everything he could to help their son and to try and remove his abilities.

The wealthy elite suggested sending him to one of the prestigious boarding schools that he funded. It was a school that catered to kids with extraordinary talents and abilities. They would provide him with an excellent education and would have the best teachers and professors teach him.

As a bonus, they were very confidential and private with their students and wouldn't share any information without explicit consent. That meant even if his parents were to come by and ask, they wouldn't be able to say anything, thus keeping their son's secret abilities safe.

However, they were none the wiser to Lex's true intentions. With these experiments, he'd finally have the advantage he needed to rid the world of Superman and the Justice League. But, of course, things wouldn't be that easy.

But, when Batman, Superman, and Flash came to his school in their civilian identities but still in disguise, they offered him the chance to truly understand and control his powers along with a spot to join their team of young superheroes as a new recruit. They also promised to find a way to end these experiments with Lex as Y/N explained that he hadn't met success with getting rid of them, but he did suspect he was up to no good, he just didn't know what to do as he knew his parents wouldn't listen to him.

It's why Batman also initially told him not to tell his new teammates anything about himself, at least until they found a way where Y/N could work and be protected from the experiments without putting his family at risk. Lex was known to be crafty and wouldn't hesitate to use the young teenager's parents as leverage to force him to comply

"Of course, I want to use my powers for good and help people. It's why I came with Batman and the others in the first place. But, not if it means I could put my parents in danger. Yeah, we have our differences, and they're not the most accepting of my abilities. But, they're still my family and I don't want anything bad to happen to them."

The others all felt for the young man and apologized again for their mistrust and promised to do whatever they could to help him out. They were a team after all, and a team sticks together through thick and thin.

Conner, on the other hand, still felt guilty for accusing him and even considering he was a mole. Y/N, however, was more understanding and forgiving than the Kryptonian thought he deserved.

"Ah, don't be too hard on yourself, Conner. If I were you, I would have probably done the same thing."

"Really? You don't hate me?"

"Why would I hate you? Sure, you accused me of being a spy for a supervillain, but it was only because you wanted to protect your team and the League. How can I hate you for that?"

Conner had been stunned by the younger male's response. He wasn't mad at him or even holding a grudge. He wasn't even holding the peanut incident against him. He was just so understanding. The Kryptonian knew if the situation were reversed, Y/N would be considered lucky if he hadn't blown up at him.

It was then Conner realized that maybe he felt something more for the young man than just a simple crush.

He thought about how much he admired how positive and enduring Y/N was, despite the challenges he was overcoming. His parents not accepting him, being used as a pawn to hurt others, and the same people meant to protect and love him allowing it, despite them being ignorant to it. But, the younger male still held onto hope and wanted to use his powers for good. He saw the best in people and wanted to help them, no matter what.

Y/N had this infectious energy about him. He always did everything with a smile and a positive attitude, no matter how much his life proved to be the opposite of positive. Yeah, he was a bit naive, but despite all that, and all of the things he'd been subjected to, he was innocent and pure.

He was like an angel, a light shining in a sea of darkness. And, Conner wanted to be the person that light shined on. The Kryptonian wanted to protect and cherish him. He wanted to hold him in his arms and never let go. He wanted to love him.

And, Y/N wanted to love him back.

He didn't care that Conner's temper was a bit short or that he could be a bit stubborn and aggressive. He understood he was just a boy raised to be a weapon. He had been taught to view the world in a certain way, and it was only now that he was learning there was more to life than that.

He understood that despite his gruffness, it was just the way Conner had learned to live, and that deep down he was a very loving and caring person.

Of course, their eventual getting together was nothing like anyone had expected, despite them waiting for the two idiots to confess their obvious feelings for each other.

It had been about a month since the incident with the fake mission and the eventual truth about Y/N being revealed to the team. After returning to Mount Justice and going over some logistics with the rest of the Justice League, they all got a debriefing from Batman on what would happen from there.

They knew that they couldn't risk keeping him away too long, otherwise, Lex would get suspicious and alert his parents. So, Y/N would go back to school as per usual, but he'd be under the surveillance of a team of League members disguised as his teachers and other staff. They would keep an eye on him and Lex Luthor's experiments and if they became too much, they'd intervene.

Conner, however, was not happy about this arrangement. He wanted to be the one who would look out for the younger male, but the Dark Knight had other plans.

"I can't allow you to do that. If we have you constantly watching over him, it'll be too obvious. He'll be under constant surveillance and have League members watching over him at all times. You'll be too obvious, Conner."

"Then, I'll just go back with him. I can stay in the school, and watch over him. I won't leave his side."

"Conner, the school isn't equipped for a teenage boy with Kryptonian abilities. We can't allow you to be there with him. If you go, it'll just put him in more danger." Superman said, attempting to reason with him.

"But, what if he gets hurt? What if Luthor does something? What if..."

"Conner, please. I'm going to be fine. You heard what Batman and the others said. They're going to be right there with me and won't let anything happen. They'll protect me." Y/N said, placing a hand on the younger Krypontian's arm to reassure him.

"Besides, we've worked out a way to disrupt Lex's experiments. With the help of our scientists at S.T.A.R. Labs, we've created a dilution solution. Whatever Lex decides to inject him with, these solutions will work to nullify them. It'll give us more time to figure out a way to end these experiments for good and won't pose any risk to Y/N's powers." Batman explained.

Conner wasn’t happy with the idea, not one bit. But he knew he had no choice but to let Y/N go with it, no matter how much he hated it.

"Of course, he'll still be a part of this team. We're setting up a new Zeta Gateway near the school, and one of our agents will make sure he gets there safely and without alerting Lex. Y/N will come here after his classes and sessions with Lex to report anything new as well as keep his training up."

With that, Black Canary and Captain Marvel came forward with a box, handing it over to Y/N with a smile. The young man opened it excitedly to find a brand new super-suit, specially made and tailored for him.

"Welcome to the Team, Primus."

The other members congratulated him with cheers, hugs, and claps, a little bit more enthusiastically than they would have with someone else, but it was deserved. He'd already shown to be an amazing member of the team and an amazing friend, and they were happy to have him.

They celebrated later that day on the beach, before Y/N's eventual departure. Batman made it seem as if he was on a vacation with his parents while he was here at Mount Justice, so he knew he'd have to return eventually to prevent any eyes from getting raised.

Everyone was having fun, playing, swimming, and laughing. At some point, they all ended up lounging around on the sand, laying or sitting on their various blankets and chairs while watching the sun slowly descend towards the horizon, signaling the closer approach of Y/N's leaving.

"I have a question," Y/N suddenly said, "I had meant to ask this before after everything that happened last month but kept forgetting. When Batman told me to keep my background a secret from you all, he specifically kept telling me to not tell Conner about my connection to Lex. Why?"

Everyone looked around at each other, before settling their gaze on Conner, who looked down at the ground with his eyebrows furrowed.

"Well, it's a bit of a long story," Dick began, not wanting the boy to feel awkward with his question.

"I'm Superman's clone," Conner interrupted, silencing not just the Boy Wonder but everyone around him as he continued, "I was made in a lab from the DNA of both Superman and Lex Luthor to be a weapon against the Justice League. I'm not an actual person, and if it wasn't for these guys, I'd still be in Cadmus, probably sitting in a pod right now."

Y/N seemed taken aback, not saying anything as Conner continued to look down at the sand in shame. He was afraid of revealing the truth to Y/N, thinking he wouldn't see him as an actual person.

However, he, along with everyone else, was more than shocked at his response.

"Wow, you are a miracle to all the gays around the world."

There was a beat of silence before a chorus of laughter erupted around them. Wally, Artemis, and Dick did nothing to hide their hysteria while Zatanna and Kaldur attempted to conceal their own chuckles. M'Gann and Conner were both confused, but the Martian laughed as well, while the Kryptonian was just looking at the younger male in front of him, his cheeks turning red.

"I-I don't know what that means."

"Let's just say I know some people who kill to have someone like you in their lives. You're more special than you know," Y/N answered, smiling at him.

Conner was shocked, not expecting that response.

"You don't think less of me?"

"Of course not. Why would I?"

"Because of what I am. What I was made for and who I was made from."

"I don't care about any of that. You're you, and you're the one that makes you, you. Not what other people made you to be if that makes sense," Y/N said with a humorous, confused look that Conner couldn't help but smile at," You're a person, Conner, and I think you're amazing," Y/N looked at the Kryptonian with a smile who had the blush on his face returning even more.

"Thank you."

"Hey, guys. The sun is going down. We should take a picture," Dick suddenly said, pointing out the setting sun.

They all gathered around for a group photo, Y/N and Conner being the closest, with the younger male leaning into the Kryptonian. It was a great moment for all of them, and the perfect way to start their journey as a team.

Eventually, the sun had set and it was time for Y/N to make his departure. He made his goodbyes to everyone, promising he would be back soon before eventually stopping in front of Conner who nervously looked down at the boy, his emotions still all over the place from their previous conversation.

"Can I actually talk to you in private before you go?" The Kryptonian asked.

Y/N looked a little shocked and turned to Batman who gave his nod of approval, "You've got five minutes."

The two boys walked a bit away from the group, the others looking on with eager faces and eyes as they not so subtly tried to see what was happening.

"Um, I just wanted to apologize again for everything that happened. I know it was stupid, but I didn't want anything bad to happen to the Team or the League. And, I thought if there was a chance you could be a mole or something, I needed to find out. But, I realized that it was stupid, and I was just being paranoid..."

Without even realizing it, Conner began to ramble and Y/N had to take his hand to get him to stop talking, "Conner, it's okay. I told you, I already forgave you for that. And, remember, I was the one who said you were justified in doing it. You were trying to protect your team and that's something I respect and admire."

"You do?" Conner asked, feeling a bit hopeful.

"Of course, I do. You were willing to do anything to protect the people you care about, and that's admirable. I could never hold that against you. My own parents don't trust me just because I have powers and sent me away to a boarding school to be experimented on in hopes of getting rid of them. You only reacted the way you did because you were worried about the people you cared about and loved. Something only a real person is capable of doing," Y/N said.

Conner didn't know what had come over him, but the feeling of Y/N's hands in his own and the sincerity of his words had him pulling the younger male in for a deep kiss, his lips fitting perfectly against his own.

Y/N was surprised, but after a moment, he wrapped his arms around Conner's neck and deepened the kiss, not even realizing the shocked expressions of the people around them.

"It's about time," Artemis muttered.

Y/N had left back to his school and sessions with Lex and returned to Mount Justice within a month where he'd reported everything that had happened. The dilutions were working for the most part and Lex was none the wiser from what he could tell.

And once the Zeta Gateway was set up, Y/N was able to return every other night or when he was needed for a mission. It gave him the time he needed with the Black Canary and the other League members to test and train his powers.

Conner, on the other hand, had a new drive. He was less of the brooding and angry teen he used to be and was a lot more caring and less abrupt and aggressive. Y/N had made him want to do better, to be better than he was before.

And with their new relationship, Conner was more determined than ever to protect Y/N and keep him safe, no matter what. As far as the Kryptonian was concerned, no one would be allowed to hurt him. Not Lex Luthor, not his parents, no one.

Their relationship developed and deepened very quickly during their time together with the two becoming nearly inseparable. When Y/N would come to the Cave, Conner would frequently join in on his training sessions with Black Canary, and he would realize how fast of a learner his boyfriend was.

Within a couple of months, he was able to adapt and adjust to his powers, growing more confident and powerful. He was even able to keep up with the Kryptonian's own speed and strength, something that impressed the others.

"I can't believe how much he's improved in such a short amount of time," Dick said.

"Yeah, he's been doing well. I've never seen anyone adapt to their powers so quickly," Wally added.

"Yeah, well. With the right motivation, I think anyone can do anything," Kaldur said, watching the two lovers spar with each other while shirtless from across the room.

"Yeah, I bet," Artemis said, watching the two as well.

"Conner's become really protective of him," M'Gann said.

"Yeah, well. When you're dating a guy with superpowers by someone who's kind of your arch-nemesis, you tend to get a bit protective," Dick pointed out.

"You think we should do something about it?" Wally asked.

"What do you mean?" M'Gann questioned.

"I don't know. It just seems like Conner's gotten a bit more possessive than usual. I mean, Y/N can't even go to school without him worrying. And, he's always asking about him and his progress with his powers. It's like he's obsessed or something."

"Well, it's not like he's done anything wrong," Zatanna pointed out, "We don't even know what's going to happen with his parents and Luthor. I mean, imagine how Conner must feel when Y/N has to go back to the school and those experiments and he can't do anything about it."

"Plus, the fact his family is essentially allowing this, whether they know about the full situation or not," Kaldur added.

"Yeah. I mean, the guy was practically raised in a lab and was used as a weapon by that same jerk. So, the idea of his boyfriend's family being involved with his arch-nemesis would definitely get his panties in a twist," Artemis added

"Well, hopefully, we can figure something out soon. I'm not sure how much longer Conner can handle it."

"I think we should just let things play out. If it gets to a point where it's affecting our missions or our teamwork, then we can intervene. But, for now, I think we should just let them be," Kaldur said, ending the conversation.

As if on cue, the two boys finished their sparring match, with Y/N pinning Conner down against the floor.

"I win," Y/N said with a smile.

"Only because I let you," Conner replied.

"No, you didn't. You just couldn't handle me. I'm just too fast and strong for you," Y/N teased before letting them both up.

"Oh, yeah? Well, let's see who's too fast and strong now," Conner said before grabbing Y/N and throwing him over his shoulder.

The Kryptonian carried him around the room, his boyfriend laughing and protesting while the others just rolled their eyes.

"Alright lovebirds, that's enough flirting. We've got a mission," Dick said.

"Yes Father," Y/N replied sarcastically before having the Kryptonian put him down who had a disgruntled face at being interrupted, "Stop pouting, you big baby."

"I'm not pouting," Conner mumbled.

"You're totally pouting."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"Haha! I win!" Y/N said before giving Conner a peck on the cheek, causing the Kryptonian to smile while his boyfriend checked his phone, "Oh Crap, I didn't realize how late it was. I have to get back to the school."

"Do you have to go?" Conner asked, his arms wrapping around his waist.

"You know I do. We don't want to alert anyone. I promise I'll be back later, okay?" Y/N said, cupping the Kryptonian's face.

Conner nodded before leaning down and capturing the younger male's lips in a sweet kiss.

"I'll see you later."

"Bye, babe."

"See you later, Y/N," The others called out as the young male made his way to the Zeta Gateway.

"Man, I don't know how he does it. If I had a boyfriend like Conner, I don't think I'd ever leave," Artemis said.

"Yeah, well. I think the only reason he's able to is because of the fact that he's being experimented on by his parents' best friend and his parents are okay with it. He wants to be there to protect his parents and keep them safe, despite what they're doing," Dick pointed out.

"I hope we can find a solution soon," Wally said, "I can't imagine what Conner's feeling."

"Yeah, we'll figure something out," Kaldur said, before they made their way to the mission briefing.

Things continued on like that for almost a little over a year. During the day, Y/N would attend his classes and sessions with Lex while still taking the dilutions S.T.A.R. Lab made for him. Then, at night, he traveled back to Mount Justice for training, any missions he was needed on, and to provide updates to the League while they worked on shutting the experiments for good.

He'd come far in his development and was no longer the helpless kid who had no control over his powers. He was now a superhero in his own right and had become a very important member of the team.

Plus, he and Conner were as close as could be, deeply in love with each other and always together. The Kryptonian was still a bit protective and possessive of the younger male, but not to the point where it was interfering with the team. If anything, it had the opposite effect.

When they were out in the field, Conner was more determined and focused than ever, especially if Y/N was involved.

He still went out of his way to make sure the younger male was safe, even taking on the responsibility of walking him back to his campus at night, in disguise of course. Batman objected to it at first, but knowing how stubborn Conner was, especially when it came to Y/N, he decided to allow it.

And that's where Y/N got to discover the jealous side of his boyfriend when they ran into his roommate one night the Kryptonian escorted him back.

"Hey, Y/N. Who's this?"

"Oh, this is CJ, my boyfriend. CJ, this is my roommate, Mason." Y/N said.

Conner gave his boyfriend a look at the fake name before turning back to the other present male, "Nice to meet you," he said, a bit more gruff than he intended.

"Same here. I'm glad to finally meet you, Y/N's told me a lot about you. Well, when he's here."

"I'm sure," Conner replied, trying not to sound as jealous as he was.

"Well, I'm gonna head back. I'll see you back in our room, Y/N" Mason said.

Conner did not like how suggestive that sounded and was glaring daggers into the retreating boy's back. He should have considered himself lucky that the Kryptonian didn't have heat vision, otherwise he'd be a pile of ash on the ground.

"You okay, babe?" Y/N asked, seeing his boyfriend's expression.

"I don't like him," Conner stated.

"Why? Because he's my roommate?"

"Yes. He's your roommate. And he's a guy. A guy who spends a lot of time around you. A guy who sleeps in the same room as you and knows you have a boyfriend. A guy who probably has a crush on you and is probably fantasizing about you being with him right now."

"Conner, you're being ridiculous," Y/N said, rolling his eyes.

"I am not. I know what guys like him are thinking about. He wants to get into your pants."

"So, what? Do you think I'm just going to let him? Or that I'm not capable of fending him off?"

"I know you can, but that doesn't mean he won't try. And, I don't like the idea of you being alone with him. You need to switch rooms."

"What? Just for me to end up in another room with another guy?"

"Doesn't this place offer single rooms?"

"Yes, but they're for seniors only."

"What about CO-ED?"

"I-... Really, Conner?"

"What kind of prestigious institution is this? Fine, you're moving into the Cave then, and you'll share my room with me. Your actual boyfriend."

"Conner, I can't..."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not safe. If I'm not here, my parents will get suspicious. What if they try and contact me, and I'm not here? They'll get worried and call Lex, and then he'll get suspicious. I can't risk it."

Conner sighed, knowing his boyfriend was right.

"Have I mentioned how much I don't like your parents?" Conner muttered.

"Yes, you have. Multiple times."

"Good."

That wouldn't be the last time Conner would suggest Y/N moving into the Cave, and no matter how much the younger male wanted to, he knew he had to stay at the school.

In their time together, Y/N had become one of the most, if not, the most important people in the Kryptonian's life. He was the light in the darkness, and Conner couldn't imagine his life without him.

However, the strain of the situation was beginning to show.

Lex had started to increase the intensity and frequency of the experiments, and Batman and the other League members weren't having much luck trying to figure out how to stop them. They weren't having much luck with Y/N's parents either, trying to subtly change their views on the League and Lex Luthor to help them see the potential mess they were creating by allowing these experiments to happen, but it was to no avail.

Conner could feel himself getting angrier and more impatient. He wanted to protect Y/N and help him in any way he could and was tired of not being able to do anything.

He'd also become frustrated with the League and his teammates. They were so focused on making sure they didn't make things worse that they were neglecting the actual problem.

When Y/N started slipping in training and showing signs of ill effects, Conner became even more worried and stressed every time the boy left back for school. Not being able to know if something happened to him while he was there was driving the boy up the wall, and as a result, he became more persistent in his efforts to get Y/N to stay in the Cave where he could protect him.

None of them were successful of course. But, things were slowly getting more out of control and dangerous, and Conner didn't know how much more he could take before he lost it.

"Y/N, keep up! Come on," Black Canary shouted as she ran the team through different training drills.

Batman and Superman were also there observing the training. They were there to discuss potential updates to the situation after meeting with the League, but they, especially the Kryptonian showed signs of worry at the younger superhero's seemingly exhausted state.

"He's been training a lot lately. Maybe he's just tired," M'Gann suggested.

"Maybe, but this is unusual. Even for him," Dick said.

"He's been a bit off lately," Artemis added.

"Maybe it's because of the experiments," Wally suggested.

"We don't know that," Kaldur said.

"Well, what else could it be? You saw how he was acting yesterday. He was exhausted, and his powers were all over the place. He's not getting any better. If anything, he's getting worse," Artemis said.

Her words kept everyone silent as none of them could deny the obvious fact sitting in front of them. It didn't help that Conner was already upset about the situation as a whole and the fact that the League had allowed it to go on as long as it did was only making his anger worse, something everyone could see.

"Alright, that's enough for today," Black Canary finally said.

"Are you sure? We still have some time left," Zatanna asked.

"We can finish up tomorrow. I think we all need a break. We've been working hard lately and need some time to ourselves. You can come down, Y/N!"

"I agree," Superman said, "You guys have been doing great. You deserve some time to yourselves."

"I'm going to go see if Y/N is alright," Conner said.

"Maybe we should let him rest for a bit, Conner," M'Gann said.

"What? Why? He's my boyfriend which makes him my concern. So, I'm going to see if he's alright."

"I think M'Gann is right, Conner. You should let him rest for a bit before you see him," Dick said.

"Is that an order?" Conner asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Conner, we're just saying that—"

"Oh my god!"

The Kryptonian was about to make a retort, but the sound of a scream stopped him. Everyone turned to see Y/N falling from the sky, his body limp.

"Y/N!"

Conner didn't waste a second and leaped off the ground towards his boyfriend. He caught him just in time before he hit the ground, his body hanging limply in his arms.

"Y/N! Y/N!" Conner said, shaking him, but the younger male didn't respond.

The Kryptonian's eyes were furious as he turned to the League members who had rushed over, "This is all your fault!"

"Conner, calm down. We're going to figure this out," Batman said.

"No! All of this is your fault. You and the entire League! You all knew this was happening, and you let it continue. You didn't do anything to stop it, and now look at him!"

"Conner, please. I know you're upset, but you need to calm down. We need to figure out what's wrong with Y/N."

"What's wrong with him?! You guys have been using him as your little guinea pig for over a year and now that something's wrong, you're suddenly concerned? You're all a bunch of hypocrites!"

"Conner, please. Let's just get Y/N to the med bay and see what's wrong," M'Gann said.

"Fine!" The Kryptonian shouted before following the others towards the medical bay, his boyfriend still held tightly in his arms.

Y/N was placed on the bed, while the League and the Team watched as Red Tornado checked his vitals.

Batman sent out an emergency call and had some medical professionals from S.T.A.R. Labs come to Mount Justice to figure out what was going on. His diagnosis wasn't good.

"His vitals are improving, thankfully. But, it seems his body is under a lot of stress."

"What does that mean?"

"From initial tests, it seems that the combination of whatever he's being injected with combined with our solutions to dilute and nullify them are causing his immune system to feel like it's getting attacked from two ends."

"But, this wasn't happening before when Y/N started taking the dilutions?"

"Yes, because whatever serums Mr. Luthor was using weren't as strong. We can only assume he's gotten more persistent and amped up the intensity of his tests. Combined with our dilutions, now, not only are they fighting with each other, but it's causing his body to fight itself as well. We need further tests to confirm, but what I can say is that since these experiments are primarily designed to extract and/or remove his powers, his use of them in combat or training causes more stress than he can handle."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that Y/N's body is rejecting the combination of both the serums and our solutions, and the only way to prevent further harm is to stop using them."

"But, that'll mean he won't have any way to counteract the effects of the serums," Superman said.

"Yes. But, it's the only way to prevent further damage. His body is essentially going into a sort of self-defense mode and is attacking itself. We need to stop it now before it gets worse and becomes permanent. Right now, it's only affecting his immune system, but if it continues, it'll affect other parts of his body, and we won't be able to save him."

The doctor unhooked him from the machines, packing his things before being escorted back to S.T.A.R. Labs by Black Canary and Captain Marvel. The room was quiet as Conner stood by Y/N's side while glaring at the Dark Knight.

"You knew this was happening, didn't you?"

"Conner, you need—"

"No! Don't tell me what I need to do. You knew this was happening, and you did nothing. You were fine with just sitting around and doing nothing, letting this happen. You let Y/N get hurt and put him in danger."

"Superboy! That's enough." Aqualad ordered.

"Dude, you think they've been sitting around doing nothing? That's all they've been doing trying to figure out how to shut this all down while dealing with other stuff. Batman even tried going to Y/N's parents directly to get them to see reason." Dick tried to argue on his mentor's behalf.

"And, look where that got us. Y/N nearly died today because of the crap you've all been subjecting him to. It's been over a year and you still haven't done anything. He's the one suffering while all of you get to just sit back and watch."

"Conner, please. We're trying. They just need more time," M'Gann pleaded.

"Time? Y/N could have died today. Do you understand that? I could have lost him. And, it would have been all of their faults."

"Conner, please. I know you're upset, but you can't blame them. They've been trying their best," Zatanna said.

"No, they haven't. If they were doing their best, they would've confronted Luthor directly and put an end to this shitshow months ago!"

"That would've just put Y/N and his family in more danger! They can't just go around accusing someone like Lex Luthor who is known to cover his tracks without any proof!" Artemis argued.

"Conner, enough. We all get how you feel, but they've done everything we can," Kaldur said.

"Really? Cause, from where I'm standing, they've done nothing, " He said before turning his heated gaze to Batman, who stayed silent during all of this, "You're all a bunch of cowards."

"Conner!" Superman yelled.

"No, fuck all of you. I'll save Y/N myself if I have to," He said, before picking Y/N's unconscious body off the bed and exiting the med bay towards his room.

"Should we stop him?" Wally asked.

"No, let him go," Batman answered, "He needs time to cool down."

"He's right though, isn't he?" Dick asked, "We've been putting this off for too long. We've been waiting for the League to handle this, but they haven't done anything."

"We've been trying," Superman said.

"And, yet, you haven't gotten anywhere. Despite his reaction, Conner's right. You've just been sitting around and waiting for something to happen. What have you done to stop this from happening?" Wally asked with a pointed look.

"We've been trying to find evidence against Luthor, but he's been hiding it well. We need to find a way to expose him and bring him down without risking Y/N and his parents. We can't afford to lose this."

"Well, let's hope something can get figured out soon because I don't think Conner can handle any more of this. None of us can," Kaldur said, the tone of his words hanging heavy in the air as he and the rest of the team made their way out of the med bay as well.

Y/N had woken up a couple of hours later, finding himself being held by a softly snoring Conner whose grip around him was so secure, you'd think the Kryptonian was guarding a treasure.

He smiled at the sight, not wanting to disturb his boyfriend, but the Kryptonian sensed his movement and woke up. The second he laid eyes on you, a softness appeared on his face as he brought a hand to caress Y/N's face who smiled back at him while leaning into his hand.

"Should I be worried about this being a regular thing?"

Conner didn't respond, but the slight smile across his lips indicated he was happy to see Y/N could still make a joke out of anything. The younger boy started to look around, wondering how he even got there in the first place.

"What happened? Last thing I remember was being in training, and then nothing else," He asked, turning back to the Kryptonian.

Conner still didn't say anything, just leaned over and pressed a kiss against the boy's lips, forcing him to lay back as he positioned himself over him. Y/N wasn't complaining at the move, kissing back with as much fever and passion as the Kryptonian.

When he broke the kiss apart, Conner just leaned his head down into his neck while being careful not to lay all his weight on the boy, placing small kisses on his neck and breathing in his scent. Y/N brought his arms around the boy, giving small caresses to his back, sensing the boy needed this quiet moment.

He could tell whatever happened wasn't good, and it would likely upset Conner in talking about it. That's when he suggested going to the common room to watch TV, having more time to cuddle, and just relax after what must have been a stressful day. Plus, based on the way he was acting now, Y/N knew his boyfriend wasn't planning on letting him out of his sight for the rest of the night.

Without a word, Conner hopped up off the bed, picking his boyfriend up in his arms, and carrying him out of the room.

"You know, my legs work just fine. Just thought I should remind you," Y/N joked, finally getting a smile from the Kryptonian.

"Shut up and let me take care of you idiot."

"Whatever you say, honey."

"I hate that nickname."

Eventually, Y/N discovered what happened, after he practically had to force Conner to give him his phone which he needed to get back to his dorm and the Kryptonian all but exploded on him for even considering the idea of going back to that place. He knew the experiments were getting worse, and he could feel the effect it was having on his body.

The only thing he didn't realize was how much of an effect it was having on Conner and even his friends who all were concerned for his well being after watching him nearly split open his skull after fainting mid-flight and plummeting towards the ground. But, in the end, all he could think of was his parents and not putting them in danger.

It didn't matter though, because the Kryptonian had made his decision, and he made it clear not only to his boyfriend but to the rest of the team and their superiors. Either he goes with Y/N back to the school and stays with him full-time, or Y/N would remain at Mount Justice and transfer to Happy Harbor and they would just have to figure out another plan to protect his parents.

Surprisingly, he wasn't met with any opposition. Everyone agreed with him. While the League was still concerned about the potential consequences of these actions and the dangers they could bring, they realized their hesitance had already put Y/N in a more than dangerous position that could have cost him his life.

While the League still had a plan in motion and would be monitoring the situation, they knew things had escalated beyond their control. They decided to follow Conner's suggestion, having the Kryptonian pose as a transfer student, allowing him to attend the school and stay by his boyfriend's side.

He was moved into his own dorm with a roommate (despite his initial demands that he be placed in the same room as Y/N, but there was only so much they could do without raising heads) and placed in all his classes. Conner became like his personal bodyguard, making sure he was never alone or in the presence of anyone they didn't know or trust.

He was unpleasantly surprised to find out it was an all-boys school, and it only made the Kryptonian even more suspicious of his classmates, especially the ones who seemed too friendly or close to his boyfriend.

Y/N was not amused.

"Conner, please, stop glaring at everyone."

"I'm not glaring. I'm just observing."

"Observing, glaring. Same difference."

"What? They're all just staring at you. Like, they're undressing you with their eyes. It's disgusting. And you should've told me this was an all-boys school!"

"I didn't tell you because I didn't think it mattered. Plus, I knew you would react this way. Besides, they're not undressing me with their eyes."

"Just because you don't see it, doesn't mean they're not doing it. And what do you mean you knew I'd react this way?"

"Conner, sweetie, I love you, but you've got to be one of the most jealous people I've ever met."

"Okay, you're exaggerating. I don't get that jealous." Conner scoffed.

"Babe, you literally get upset because Wolf always wants to play with me more than he does with you."

"Okay, that's completely valid. I'm his owner or Alpha or whatever, but he only wags his tail excitedly when he sees or smells you coming."

"I've always been a dog person." Y/N shrugged.

"Yeah, well apparently, you're also gonna be the person who gets all these irritating fuckers sent to the nurse's office if they don't find somewhere else to look at."

Y/N rolled his eyes in amusement, "You're ridiculous."

"I'm your boyfriend."

"Exactly."

The Kryptonian couldn't argue with that, not that he would want to.

"I'm still not going to like this," Conner grumbled.

"Yeah, I know. And, I still love you."

"Good."

Looking on the brighter side, however, things were better with Conner attending the school. He was able to provide updates to the Team and League about what was happening, and the Kryptonian was always on high alert when Y/N was at the labs.

Plus, it was nice having the Kryptonian nearby. The fact that his boyfriend was always so close made Y/N feel safer and less stressed, and it gave the Kryptonian peace of mind knowing he was safe.

Of course, there were moments when Conner had to remind himself not to overreact, trying to control the situation, but he was getting better at it.

Ironically enough, Conner ended up becoming a little popular within the school, which should have been surprising. The Kryptonian was the picture-perfect American boy. He was athletic even if he didn't join any sports teams, most people just assumed from his muscular build. He possessed high intelligence thanks to his G-Gnome programming and was insanely attractive in the eyes of many.

Even though he wasn't exactly the most social, choosing to mostly keep to himself or stick by his boyfriend's side, many of the students and teachers slowly began to warm up to him. He was still a bit standoffish and awkward, but his protective nature towards his boyfriend was seen as endearing and adorable by his peers.

It was also envied and desired by many of their classmates. And since Conner was still convinced that certain boys in the school couldn't be trusted because of their obvious love-struck eyes for Y/N, it made him all the more surprised when he realized some of those looks were meant for himself. Much to the displeasure of his boyfriend, of course, which the Kryptonian took great pride in. It was satisfying knowing he wasn't the only jealous one in their relationship.

"You're jealous," The Kryptonian smirked at his boyfriend's irritable expression as they sat in the library studying.

"Am not," Y/N denied.

"Are too."

"And what makes you think that?" Y/N tried to show a neutral face, but Conner knew him too well and could see the visible anger twitching in his eyes.

"Well, for starters, you get this irritable look in your eye like the one you have now when someone tries to come up and talk to me. You looked about ready to blast my lab partner's head off in chemistry earlier today during our experiment. And you've been glaring at Logan for the past twenty minutes ever since he came over here and offered to study with us," Conner stated, his smirk growing bigger as he watched his boyfriend's cheeks begin to burn with embarrassment, "Now, you know how it feels."

"Okay, first of all, I got annoyed because they always came up and tried to talk to you when we were clearly in the middle of a conversation. That would irritate anyone, even a nun—"

"What do nuns have to do with this?"

"—Secondly, I was only looking at your lab partner like that because he kept popping his gum and you know the sound of the shit drives me crazy. Plus, he didn't need to position your chairs right next to each other during the experiment. And, I was not glaring at Liam, which is actually his name, by the way, I was just... observing."

"Observing?" The Kryptonian asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, observing. We're in a library, would you like me to grab you a dictionary? It's when you look at something or someone closely and with attention," Y/N stated, the sarcasm dripping off his words.

"Really? Because it looked more like this," Conner said, before he scrunched his eyebrows together, making a look of intense concentration, his eyes squinting, "Then, the person you were looking at would start to panic and freak out because it looked like you were going to attack them," Y/N held an unimpressed look while actively suppressing the amusing chuckles he felt rising in his stomach.

"Careful sweetie, hold that face for too long and it might get stuck like that," Y/N said.

"Very funny," Conner replied, before his eyes took on a mischievous glint, "I like it when you're jealous, though. Makes you even cuter."

Y/N let out a scoff, "I'm not cute, and I'm not jealous. And if you want to live to see tomorrow, you'll refrain from using those words again."

"Or what?" Conner challenged, a teasing smirk on his face.

"Or, I'll show you just how 'cute' I can be," Y/N threatened.

"Is that a promise or a threat? Cause, I'm hoping for the first one."

"You've been spending way too much time with Wally."

"Maybe. But, I'm not the one who's jealous," Conner said, his smirk still firmly in place.

"Shut up," Y/N said.

"You're cute."

"I'm not."

"Are too."

"Shut up."

"Never."

"Do you want to fight? Because the energy you're giving me right now says you want to fight."

"It's okay, babe. I am also a jealous boyfriend," Conner said.

"I'm so glad you've finally acknowledged it. You know they say the first step in the journey is acceptance and admittance," Y/N said, the sarcasm and humor evident in his voice.

"Whatever. At least I don't deny it like you."

"I've already told you I'm not jealous. You're the jealous one, not me," Y/N argued.

"Whatever you say, babe."

"I'm not!"

"You're so cute when you're in denial," Conner said, reaching a hand across the table and pinching his cheek.

"I will destroy you," Y/N threatened with a fake menacing tone.

"I'd like to see you try, cutie."

Y/N couldn't help but crack a smile at his boyfriend's antics.

"I love you," Y/N said.

"Love you too, even if you are a liar."

"Fuck off."

Across the room, the couple were not aware of the eyes on them as their peers watched them bicker back and forth.

"Ugh, can't those two ever get a room?"

Things seemed to be going well, but not all good things weren't meant to last forever.

Despite their moments of levity and fun, the experiments were still taking a toll on the boy. Y/N's powers were getting harder and harder to control, and the Kryptonian was constantly worried about the boy's safety and well-being.

One lesson Y/N took very seriously from Batman was to always trust his instincts and what his gut was telling him. Those same instincts were telling him that Lex was on to them if his feelings of dread and hyper awareness anytime he and Conner were in class, out on campus, or just anywhere outside of their dorms was anything to go off.

They'd also be fools not to see how just as much as their classmates were observing them, certain members of the faculty were watching them as well. The only thing they couldn't be certain of was if these people knew they were aware of them watching them. Of course, Y/N and Conner both knew the risks of having the Kryptonian on the campus more frequently and the increased chances that Lex would recognize him, even despite the changes in his appearance they did to throw him off.

The teacher and faculty agents the League had sent in were doing their best to uncover Luthor's plot, but even having them on campus watching out for him and Conner didn't do much to ease Y/N's nerves.

Little did he know how right he was to feel on edge.

During one of their sessions while Lex was in the observation room, his assistant came to him with a tablet, "Mr. Luthor, the surveillance footage you requested."

"Thank you. Any developments?"

"Actually, yes, sir. There's a new subject who has joined the school recently," The assistant said, showing footage of their subject eating lunch with the addition in question.

"What's so special about this one?" Lex asked, his eyes narrowing as he watched the two interact.

"From initial gatherings, nothing sir," Mercy said, swiping through the different video files they had recorded of Y/N and this new student around the school since his arrival, "But, after close observation and monitoring, we found the nature of their relationship to be more intimate than expected. And, after noting his unusual practice of never leaving the subject's side for more than a second and their frequent trips off campus together, we ran a facial recognition and found this." She swiped over to an old file from their Cadmus labs in Washington.

Lex's eyebrows raised in recognition while a knowing smile grew across his lips, "Ah, so it seems Project K.R. has gone and fallen in love with our little experiment. How interesting. Expected of course, which gives me a perfect opportunity."

"What would you like us to do, sir?"

"For now, continue monitoring. Keep a close eye on them. If our resident Superboy knows about him and is here assumingly to watch and protect him, we can only assume the League is on to us," Lex instructed, a hand to his chin as he thought over their moves before his usual knowing smirk returned to his face, "Also, reach out to the family of our subject. I do believe it's time we set up a parent-teacher conference."

Mercy nodded at the instructions, before turning to leave. Lex turned back to the one-sided window, watching as the scientists and doctors performed their tests and experiments on Y/N with a knowing smile. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket, opening a message thread and pulling up a photo he received some weeks prior.

A cute and lovely photo it was too of Conner taking a selfie of him and Y/N who was seemingly caught off guard and trying to get the phone back. Lex smiled at the screen with a thoughtful gaze before making his way inside the experiment room, intending to have a little chat with his subject.

Y/N knew something was up, and the only small relief he had to his growing anxiousness was the fact that the League finally had come up with enough evidence and was now formulating a plan to end these experiments and take Luthor down, without risking his parents in the process. Only that seemed less likely when his parents suddenly showed up at the school the following week, surprising both their son and the Kryptonian who immediately became suspicious.

Apparently, Lex had decided to call a meeting with him and his parents to discuss his performance and results. And, if the uneasy dread in his stomach was correct, it definitely had nothing to do with his grades.

The agents immediately reported back to the League, and Conner was insistent that he and Y/N return to Mount Justice as soon as possible, almost certain that Lex was up to something. But, his boyfriend who just as much wanted to agree with the Kryptonian wouldn't allow it.

He was also very aware of the ominous feeling that Lex was setting up something, and that's why he had purposely invited Y/N's parents there. In the past year he'd spent with 'Uncle Lex', he'd gotten to know him pretty well, and getting to know him meant he got to see the parts of Luthor that were cold, calculating and always scheming.

Whether Lex was aware or not that Y/N could see these traits coming out at times, the young superhero noted it. And that's why he was certain he had no choice but to attend this meeting.

Lex got his parents involved for a reason, and he wasn't ready to find out what that reason was. But, Conner was not ready nor willing to let his teammate and boyfriend walk into an obvious trap. Despite his very strong feelings concerning the boy's parents and his wanting to give them a piece of his mind, Y/N's safety was his #1 priority. If his parents were in on the scheme, then any wrong move or miscalculated step could put him at risk, and that wasn't something the Kryptonian was willing to gamble on.

"No, you're not going," Conner stated, leaving no room for argument in his tone, despite knowing his boyfriend would still argue back with him.

"Yes, I am."

"Y/N, this is not up for discussion. You're not going, and that's final." Conner said, looking down straight into his boyfriend's eyes and not budging an inch. In any other scenario, he'd typically argue a little before giving in to the smaller male...not this time.

"Last time I checked, you were not my boss. And you know what will happen if I don't go. Lex will just end up coming after me and my parents," Y/N retorted.

"Fine. Then, I'm coming with you. End of discussion."

"Conner—"

"Y/N, I'm not letting you do this alone. End. Of. Discussion."

"Conner, I have to. You don't understand, he's got something planned and he's not stupid. He knows the League's onto him and this is basically his insurance policy. I can't let my parents get caught up in this," Y/N said, his decision final.

"And I can't let you get hurt," Conner yelled, grabbing Y/N by his shoulders and bringing him closer, his face showing his desperation while Y/N tried to push back the tears building in his eyes, "What if your parents are in on it and this is just you playing into all of their hands? You can't expect to believe that they have no idea what's going on and haven't noticed the condition you've been in all those times you went home."

"You don't think I haven't considered that?! I'm not stupid, Conner. But, if my parents are in on this, then that's something I'll just have to face the reality of. But, I'm their son, superpowers or not, I'm still their kid. That has to count for something," Y/N said, the tears no longer being held back as they broke free and ran down his face.

The Kryptonian softened at the sight and reached his hand up to wipe away the tears, before bringing the boy closer to him and embracing him, his arms wrapping around him as if trying to protect him from the entire world. Just like before, when they stood in the middle of his room at Mount Justice, only this time, the roles were reversed and Conner was the one comforting him.

Just like the many other teens and kids who had the blessing of being gifted with powers and abilities beyond the average human, it came with many circumstances, and sometimes those circumstances outweighed the benefits. As he'd come to learn, he wasn't the only one who had his fair share of daddy and mommy issues, didn't make it hurt any less though.

The idea that his parents couldn't accept him for who he was and would rather subject him to cruel and awful experiments, just to get rid of something they saw as an imperfection in him...stung, to say the least. It wouldn't be the first time he'd wondered about how his life would have turned out had he not had these powers, but he'd be lying if he said it hadn't crossed his mind that maybe his parents would be happier and more accepting.

That thought alone was what made him the most upset. Not the fact that they'd rather see him as a science experiment than their son, but the fact that they'd rather just erase him and get rid of him completely, even if it meant losing their son than having to face the idea of their child being different.

It was something he'd only admitted once before to Conner, and the Kryptonian could still recall the pain he felt at the admission. It was a pain so subtle, yet so raw and so deep that he could feel how much it affected his boyfriend, making his dislike turn to disdain, almost hatred towards his so-called 'parents.'

Now, in the face of everything, Y/N was slowly accepting it as his reality. The thought had been slowly settling in his mind more and more over the past year as these experiments continued. Conner was right. His parents had to have known something was up when they saw him come home the few times he did in the past few months.

If it was enough for his friends and his protectors from the Justice League to see, then they had to have noticed at some point. And the fact that he'd never seen them show any ounce of concern unless it was relating to the state of his 'undesirable traits' as stated by his mother told him everything he needed to know.

At any point, they'd probably agree with what Lex was doing, especially if they knew he was doing it to eliminate Superman and the Justice League. His parents weren't at risk. They never were.

But, the Justice League was.

His Team and friends were at risk.

Conner was at risk, and that was something he wasn't going to take any chance with no matter the cost to himself.

"My parents just texted. They're meeting with Lex in his office. I have to go," Y/N said, going to grab his things and head for the door.

"No, you don't," Conner said, pulling his boyfriend into his hold, "If you think I'm going to willingly let you walk into what's almost certainly a death sentence, then you actually are an idiot. We're going back to Mount Justice and telling the others what's going on."

"I can't, Conner. My parents are already on their way, and if I'm not there, they along with Lex are going to get suspicious. It's one thing if Lex knows about us and the League, but if my parents find out, then we're going to have an even bigger problem to deal with," Y/N argued, still trying to break free from the Kryptonian's embrace.

"And, what about when they figure out you're a superhero and are part of the team who's been working to bring them down? If you're going to that meeting, then I'm going with you, and if I have to, I'll protect them as well. It's not like I can't handle myself. Besides, you'll be there, and we're stronger together," Conner stated.

"No, absolutely not," Y/N refused.

"And why not?"

"Do you honestly think for one moment Lex hasn't prepared a thousand and one different contingency plans? Like I said before, if he invited my parents here, then he did it for a reason. And I'm willing to bet he's got plenty of different backups in case you, Superman, Batman, or anyone from the Team or League tries to intervene. I've spent the last year observing this man, Conner. He's smart, and he's always planning his next move. You should know that more than anyone!"

"Exactly, which is why I'm not going to let him hurt you."

"But, he'll hurt you if you're there! Do you not get it, Conner? If Lex sees you, he'll use you against me. Do you not understand that? If you show up to that meeting, he'll have all the leverage he needs to take everything from me. Despite my not wanting to believe it could be true, I have to accept the reality that my parents may actually be 100% totally on Lex's side, so he won't be able to use them effectively against me like he could if they weren't, which gives me an advantage. An advantage that goes straight out the window if you're there," Y/N explained, hoping the Kryptonian would listen.

"You're not invincible, Conner. Your abilities might rival Superman's, but Lex created you. Even if M'Gann removed all the programming the G-Gnomes did to you before that gave him control over you, Lex still knows how to get to you in ways I couldn't even imagine. And that scares the shit out of me. I can't lose you. I can't," Y/N cried, finally breaking down and dropping his body fully into his boyfriend's arms.

Conner's heart ached at the words, never feeling as helpless and weak as he did at that moment. It seemed no matter how much he tried to protect his boyfriend and keep him safe, all his efforts were in vain, and both of them were at risk of losing the other.

It was amazing how only a year together could bring two individuals who hadn't known each other and were seemingly doing just fine on their own before, could reach a point where they felt like they couldn't go on without the other, and just the thought of was enough to send them down a spiral of panic and misery.

Conner wrapped both his arms around Y/N's waist at that moment, holding him in what could be considered a lethally crushing embrace while digging his face into the smaller boy's neck. His boyfriend never complained though, holding on to his Kryptonian just as tight while rubbing his hands through his hair and up and down his back, his tears still falling silently down his face.

The Kryptonian couldn't hold back his own tears as he felt them drop down his face, hiding his face even further to prevent his boyfriend from seeing him cry. One of them had to be strong for the other, and Conner decided it would always be him. It was what he was made for. His grip grew tighter with every second as he fought the urge to just break through the window and run off with his boyfriend, hiding them away forever.

He wanted nothing more than to take him away from all this. To take him somewhere far away from all the danger and chaos that plagued their lives and just live. The fantasy of having a simple life with Y/N and getting married, settling down, and starting a family was the only thing he could think about now.

"I love you, Conner. You've done a great job at protecting me so far, but, just this once, let me protect you. Let me keep you safe," Y/N whispered, his voice strained and hoarse.

"I love you, Y/N. I promise we'll figure this out, and we'll have that forever we talked about before. Just wait for me," Conner said, pulling back just enough so he could look the smaller boy in the eye, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, his cheeks, and the tip of his nose, before finally landing on his lips.

"With open arms," Y/N replied, the smile on his face bittersweet, yet full of love and promise.

"With open arms," Conner repeated, the tears still running down his face, and his arms still refusing to let go of the boy.

The two embraced in a bruising kiss, one full of desperation and pain, and a silent promise. When the kiss broke, Y/N pulled the Kryptonian into his chest, his fingers running through his dark hair and rubbing small circles on his back, and Conner closed his eyes, allowing the touch to soothe him, wishing he could stay there forever.

"That was so cheesy," Y/N chuckled messily through his tears.

"You were the one who said it," Conner smiled, his eyes still closed as he buried his face into his boyfriend's chest.

"Shut up," Y/N laughed lightly, his hands still rubbing Conner's back.

"I'll let you go, but only on one condition," The Kryptonian spoke, his eyes opening and looking into the eyes of the boy in his arms.

Y/N looked at him, holding back a sad chuckle, knowing the Kryptonian wouldn't let it go easily, "What is it?"

"You have to let Batman and one of our friends go with you, just as a backup. They don't have to go with you inside the meeting, but I'll feel better knowing you have some sort of reinforcement. And the only other option if you don't agree to that is me throwing you over my shoulder and taking you back to Mount Justice."

Y/N almost opened his mouth to argue but held back his words, knowing Conner wouldn't budge and would likely follow through on his threat. He sighed, knowing the Kryptonian wouldn't let him do this alone, despite his protests.

"Okay," He relented, hoping for once that his boyfriend could not read him as easily as he did.

"Promise me," Conner said, the determination and stubbornness still present in his eyes, "You promise me, okay? Promise me, you won't go alone," He demanded.

Y/N nodded, "I promise."

"No, say it. I need to hear it," Conner ordered.

"I won't go alone, Conner. I promise."

"Good," Conner sighed, his grip on his boyfriend relaxing, "Now, who are you going to bring with you?"

"Wally, I think," Y/N answered, "He's fast and can get me out of there pretty quickly if things get out of hand."

"Fine, but just know, if anything happens, I'll come and get you myself," Conner declared.

"I know. But, I'll be okay. Everything will be fine," Y/N reassured, "I love you."

"I love you, too," Conner said before getting up, "Now, you stay here, and do not go to that meeting until I'm back with Batman and Wally. Got it?"

Y/N rolled his eyes playfully, "Yes, sir."

"Good. Remember what you promised," Conner said, before leaning forward and kissing his boyfriend again, the kiss much sweeter and calmer than the one before, but with the same amount of passion and love behind it. He pulled away, giving his boyfriend one last glance before heading out of the room.

That was the last time he saw Y/N.

Conner wasted no time in getting back to the Zeta Gateway to Mount Justice, not caring who saw him leaping across the campus and the city. When he finally made it back to the Cave, he explained the situation and demanded Batman and Wally return with him. Wally had no problem going along with it, not liking the fact that his friend was being put in danger, and not caring that the Kryptonian's protective nature was kicking in, knowing they were all a little protective of their teammate and friend.

Batman needed a few more details, but when he had the whole story, he immediately called in Superman along with the rest of the Team. Conner truly didn't care at that moment, as long as they got back before Y/N did something stupid. Despite the smaller boy's wishes, they were not granted, as the Kryptonian could clearly see his boyfriend was planning something.

When they made it back, Batman held back, opting for Robin to go in his place with him, Conner, and Wally. The three boys, each now dressed in their Team attire made their way to Y/N's dorm, only to find it empty, their teammate nowhere in sight. Conner had to physically hold back from tearing the entire school apart.

"Where the fuck is he?!" Conner screamed, his patience and concern growing thin.

"Calm down, Supey. He probably saw we were coming and made his way to the meeting. Let's just follow the plan and get there so we can be ready to jump in when he needs us," Kid Flash said, trying to calm the Kryptonian down.

"Where's the meeting at?" Robin asked.

Conner took a few deep breaths, trying to get ahold of himself, "He told me it was in Luthor's office. Knowing him, he probably lied thinking I would've gone after him by myself. I'll bet they're meeting in the science building where they've been doing the experiments," He theorized.

"Then, what are we waiting for?" Kid Flash said before the trio made their way over, alerting Batman, Superman, and the rest of their team.

But, by the time they made it, it was too late.

On the outside, the building looked fine. But, on the inside, everything was destroyed. It almost looked like a nuclear bomb had gone off inside the building. The testing lab, where they usually performed the experiments on Y/N was in even worse shape than the rest of the building.

All the equipment and furniture was completely demolished, and the one-sided mirror Lex would watch from was shattered, with a small hole in the wall behind it, indicating the explosion came from the inside.

There were scorch marks everywhere, the smell of burnt metal and plastic filling the air as the four boys walked around the scene. The League had already contacted the police and the fire department, and the school's administration was currently being investigated and questioned by the local authorities.

They couldn't find Y/N though. They managed to find students and faculty who were in the building and trapped under rubble. They found some of the scientists hiding in various spots in the destroyed wreckage of the room like they were trying to shield themselves from the damage.

They even managed to locate Mercy Graves, who was unconscious in the rubble.

But, no signs of their missing friend and teammate.

No trace of Lex Luthor or Y/N's parents either which made the rising anger and panic Superboy was feeling reach astronomical levels.

"Where the hell is he?!" Conner shouted, his patience finally giving out and the anger and concern he'd been feeling the past hour finally bubbling over.

"Superboy, calm down," Batman said, "We'll find him."

"And how can you be so sure? We've been looking for over an hour, and there's no sign of him," Conner yelled, the worry and concern in his voice very clear.

"Superboy, relax. We'll find him, don't worry," Superman said, only to be interrupted by the groan of an awakening Mercy Graves.

"You won't find him," She said, coughing a few times and holding her head as she sat up.

Superboy made his way over to the woman, grabbing her off the ground and throwing her against one of the few remaining walls in the room.

"Superboy!" Batman shouted.

"Where is he," Superboy growled, ignoring his mentor and leader's warnings.

"I told you, you won't find him," Mercy said, smiling through her bloody and bruised lips.

Superboy, very much past his limit, wrapped his hand around the woman's throat, lifting her into the air, "Tell me where he is right now, or I promise I will choke the life out of you right now and enjoy doing it."

By the tone of his voice and the warning squeeze he gave around her throat that had the bodyguard wincing in pain, he was not bluffing.

"Superboy, stand down! We need her to talk," Superman ordered.

"Why? She clearly knows something and she's not telling us," Superboy retorted, a dark and ominous tone to his voice no one had ever heard from him before as he watched the tears build in her eyes from not being able to breathe, "Might as well make sure she never speaks another word again. Save us all the trouble."

"And how will that help you find him?" Batman asked.

"It won't. But, I'll feel a lot better," The half-Kryptonian said, turning his attention back to Mercy, who was trying her best to remove the hand from her throat.

"Superboy, release her and stand down now. That's an order," Batman said.

He seemingly was done listening to them though, his anger-filled gaze focused solely on the woman choking and gasping for breath as her throat was crushed slowly under his grip.

"Superboy, that's enough. You're going to kill her," Batman said, trying to reason with his clone.

"So, what? She's not telling us anything, and she's working for Lex. Who cares if she dies?"

"We need her alive. If she knows something, then we have other ways of getting her to talk. But, if you kill her, you may lose your only chance at finding him. Now, let her go," Superman ordered.

Everyone stood still at that moment, the sounds of debris flying and police sirens drowned out by the struggling noises coming from Lex's bodyguard as she fought to keep herself awake and alive under the deathly grip the Kryptonian had her in. His face was hard, his rage clear as day and not showing any signs of relenting.

Batman was prepared to use external measures, signaling Robin when the Kryptonian suddenly backed off. He released his grip over the woman's throat, letting her fall to the ground as she gasped and coughed for breath. Without another word, Superboy walked out of the room, not turning back as his peers and mentors stared after him in worry.

Superman had to stop him from tearing apart the entire school, as Conner was resigned to doing whatever he could to find his teammate and lover, at whatever cost. Thankfully, Batman was smart in bringing the others along as they were all able to assist in subduing him before anything else got destroyed or someone else got hurt in the process.

it wasn't easy for any of them, as they could understand the world of anger and hurt he was in. It was even harder when Batman gave them all pieces of Kryptonite to subdue him, making it easier for them to take him back to Mount Justice while they wrapped up their investigations.

They weren't able to get much out of Mercy, as she apparently wasn't present for the entire meeting and had only just returned before everything went to hell. She knew some details of Luthor's plans but not everything, but she wasn't the only one they apprehended. They detained some of the scientists who were working on the experiments themselves and brought them in for questioning.

"The experiments were designed to remove the subject's powers and abilities, as requested by his parents. Make no mistake, Mr. Luthor had no plans to deceive Mr. & Mrs. L/N. He had full intentions of honoring their wishes and returning their son to them as a normal child with no powers. However, his motives for doing so were not exactly what they may have thought. Mr. Luthor didn't just intend to remove the young boy's powers, he meant to extract them and duplicate them, hoping to copy those abilities into a new generation of Genomorph clones."

This wasn't news. They knew most of this already, but the truth spell Zatanna cast seemingly worked, as they hadn't gotten this much detail out of the assistant/bodyguard before. Conner couldn't care less though.

All he was concerned about was any information she had that could lead them to finding Y/N. It became all he cared about.

But, it seemed all Batman, Superman, and his so-called friend cared about were the experiments that were performed on him. Experiments that they allowed to go on for more than a year.

"Mr. Luthor theorized the key to extraction and duplication in the matter of the subject's abilities lay within the source of his powers. Only after several experiments were the scientists assigned to the matter able to narrow the source down to a matter of three categories. Genetic Inheritance, Biomolecular Engineering, or Magic. While the direct source was never identified, they had created many different strategies to test extraction and duplication before Mr. Luthor eventually found the correct one, which was the reason for his invitation to the subject's parents. However, one variable was unaccounted for."

"What was it?" Superman asked.

"Though it was never discovered what the source of the subject's abilities was, we did discover various effects and consequences of a potential pathogen that was destroying our serums and nullifying our experiments, which caused almost irreversible damage on the subject and potentially his power source as well. We realized the subject's body was now not only fighting against our serums and experiments, it was rejecting its own innate abilities, essentially fighting a war within itself. It was theorized that since the serums were designed to essentially tamper with the subject's powers, and the body was actively trying to expel the serums, it as a result tried to expel a part of itself as well. This caused substantial side effects, and Mr. Luthor was forced to postpone the achievement of his ultimate goal until he could be sure the subject would not die before extraction and duplication were complete."

The dilutions they were giving Y/N. The S.T.A.R. Labs scientists were right all along. And if they hadn't stopped giving Y/N the solutions when they did, they could've actually killed him from the inside.

Suddenly, everyone was grateful when Conner didn't stick around for the interrogations like he planned to, or else none of them knew how he'd react. If the way he almost crushed Mercy's throat against the wall when she wouldn't answer him was anything to go by, they'd rather not find out. Dick, Kaldur, and Wally already had a taste of it once.

They weren't keen on experiencing it again.

"What was the last thing you saw before the explosion?" Batman asked.

"Mr. Luthor had the subject restrained. He'd had him injected with the final serum, a special concoction our scientists had developed. It was supposed to neutralize the subject's powers and allow us to safely extract them. Once the extraction was complete, the subject would have been returned to his parents, and the serum would have been used to create a new generation of Genomorphs with the subject's powers that would be under Mr. Luthor's complete and total control. However, when the extraction began, something went wrong and the subject's body reacted negatively, causing his powers to go haywire, causing the explosion. I was knocked out during the blast and only woke up after your arrival. When I came to, the room was destroyed, and the subject was nowhere to be found along with Mr. Luthor and his parents. That's all I remember."

"Do you have any idea where they could've gone?"

"It is likely Mr. Luthor took himself and the subjects to safety in one of his remote locations. He is a very resourceful man and had me arrange means of emergency transportation and shelter in case anything grew out of his control. I would have been the one to escort him if I had not been caught in the blast myself. As for the subject himself, one of our scientists has summarized that he was likely vaporized from the overflux of power. The chance of his survival is almost non-existent."

A solemn mood fell over everyone at the news. Zatanna and M'Gann were distraught at the news while Artemis did her best to hide how crushed she was. Dick, Kaldur, and Wally were no better, each expressing their own forms of grief in different ways.

Batman, Superman, Flash, and the other members of the League were also plagued with remorse and guilt at the verdict. It was their fault. Especially the first three since they were the ones who brought Y/N into all of this in the first place.

And despite all the pain and anguish they were all feeling, they knew it wouldn't compare to how Conner would feel. No of them had the heart to tell him either way.

How do you tell someone the love of their life is dead?

No one had the answer, but it seemed, they didn't need it in the first place. When Conner returned to find out what Mercy and the scientists had said, all it took was one look around the room, seeing the red and wet eyes and the looks of despair on all their faces, and he just knew.

He didn't need anyone to tell him.

He didn't need the confirmation.

He didn't need anything.

Except maybe the ability to turn back time.

Because, if he could, he would've gone back and stopped Y/N from going to that meeting. He would've done what he wanted to do in the first place and just tossed the stubborn boy over his shoulder and taken him far away, somewhere safe and hidden, and never let him leave. He would've stayed with him forever, and they would've lived happily ever after.

Somehow, no one was surprised when Conner made for the vehicle hangar, clearly intending to leave.

"Where are you going?" Superman asked.

"I'm going to find him," Conner replied, his voice cold and devoid of any emotion.

"Conner, there's no point. We've searched everywhere. There's no trace of him, and Mercy said-"

"I don't give a shit what Mercy said! I'm going to find him, and I'm going to bring him home. I'm not giving up on him," Conner shouted, the tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

He was on Sphere, aka Super-Cycle, and out the door before any of them had the chance to argue.

When he didn't return for almost an entire day, they knew they had to go looking for the Kryptonian. They figured the best place to start would be Y/N's home city, the school, and certain areas around Happy Harbor.

They were right, though they didn't find him exactly where they thought.

After searching the school and their old dorm rooms, all of which showed clear signs of the Kryptonian's presence if the various holes in the wall and broken furniture were any indication. Yet, nothing of Y/N's was touched or destroyed. In fact, lots of it was neatly put together and packed away, as if someone was coming back for it. They figured Conner planned to take his stuff back to the Cave and keep it as mementos to his lost love.

It wasn't until they were flying back toward the Cave when Dick spotted him in a very familiar area. He was sitting on the ground, staring at the sky while leaning against the same tree he and the others had tied Y/N to when they thought he was a mole.

"Hey, guys, I found him," Dick said, "He's at the park."

"Alright, we'll meet you there," Batman replied over the comms.

"No, wait. Don't come here. Just...just stay where you are. I'll handle this," Robin said, his voice low and sad.

"Are you sure, Robin?" Aqualad asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'll call you if I need you," Robin said before instructing M'Gann to land the Bioship a little bit away. He knew Conner would notice their arrival, but he figured it'd be easier if he just went himself.

"Hey, Supey," Robin called out, walking up to the Kryptonian.

"Go away, Dick," Conner said, his voice still cold and empty.

"I'm not going anywhere, Conner. Not until you talk to me," Robin said, sitting down next to the Kryptonian.

"I don't want to talk. I just want to be alone," Conner said.

"Well, you can be alone with a friend nearby. I'm not leaving, and neither are the others. We're worried about you, and we're not going to leave you alone. You're not the only one who's hurting, Conner. We all are. But, we're not going to get through this if we don't stick together. So, please, just talk to me. Let me help you," Robin pleaded.

"I don't need help. I need to find him," Conner said, his voice cracking a bit.

"Conner, we've looked everywhere. There's no sign of him. Even the League is looking, and they haven't found anything. There's nothing left to look for," Robin said, his voice soft and gentle.

"That's because they're not looking hard enough. I know he's out there. I can feel it. I can feel him. I can't explain it, but I know he's alive," Conner said, his voice growing firm.

"Conner, I know you want to believe that, but-"

The Boy Wonder was made silent when a folder piece of paper was shoved against his chest. When Conner didn't look back at him and just continued looking toward the sky, Dick figured he wanted him to read whatever he just gave him.

So, he did.

"Is this—"

"A fake letter someone tried to make imitating Y/N so I'd think he was dead? Yeah, it is," Conner answered, his voice still cold and devoid of emotion.

"But, how did you know?"

"I didn't. Not at first. When I got back to his dorm to see if I could find him or anything that would lead to him, I found that waiting for me on the bed. I started to read it, but I could barely get past the first three sentences without wanting to rip it to shreds. It sounded nothing like him. Nothing like the way he talked, not to mention the handwriting was too perfect," Conner explained, his voice growing softer and more emotional.

"So, someone wrote a fake letter to make you think Y/N was dead?" Dick had to admit, what Conner was saying wasn't completely off-track. He'd only known Y/N for a little over a year, but reading this letter, he agreed with the Kryptonian it sounded nothing like their teammate. But, then an image of the destroyed lab flashed in his head, and then Mercy's absolute sureness that he couldn't survive the blast...

"Ok, I see what you mean, but—"

"But, what?! What, Dick," Conner snapped, turning to his friend with a glowering look, "You think I'm crazy? You think I'm delusional? You think I'm making this up? Let me be clear since I wasn't before; if I really thought and believed Y/N was dead, I'd have gone and finished choking the life out of his useless assistant and went looking for any possible trace of Lex Luthor so I could stick my fist through his chest and God knows what if I managed to find his sorry excuse of parents."

Dick was taken aback by the Kryptonian's words, not expecting the sudden outburst.

"He's alive, Dick. And I'm going to find him," Conner stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. The only person who'd ever be able to argue against him was lost somewhere, the Kryptonian was convinced of this, and no one but Y/N would be able to convince him otherwise.

Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months. Before anyone knew it, a year had gone by, and no sign of Y/N had turned up.

It was hard to watch for many of the members of their team. Some of them wanted to believe Conner was right and actively helped him in his search for the first few months, but when they kept running into dead end after dead end, they slowly lost hope. Choosing to deal with their feelings of loss and move on with their lives instead of chasing someone they were positive wasn't coming back.

Conner didn't share the same sentiment. In -act, he was more than angry with his so-called 'friends' when they had all but thrown in the towel.

"You're just giving up on him?!" Conner yelled, his anger and frustration clear.

"We're not giving up, Conner. We're just trying to move on," M'Gann said, her voice calm and gentle.

"Move on? Move on?! How can you even say that? You're literally just giving up on him!"

"Conner, we're not giving up. We're just accepting the circumstances and choosing to move on," Zatanna said, her voice calm and understanding.

"He's not gone! He's not dead! He's not!"

"Dude, we're not saying he's dead. If he is alive, we don't think he's coming back," Wally spoke, trying to choose his words carefully.

"What the hell is the difference?!"

"The difference is that we're accepting that he's not coming back. And we're not going to waste our lives waiting for him," Artemis said, her voice a little more firm and serious.

"Waste our lives? You're calling looking for him a waste of time?!"

"No one said that Conner," Kaldur spoke, throwing a pointed look toward the blonde archer, "We're just saying that we've been looking for him for a year, and we haven't found anything. We've looked everywhere, and we've come up with nothing. We've exhausted every option, and we're not getting anywhere. We're not saying he's dead, but we can't spend the rest of our lives looking for him either," He explained.

"No, I've been looking for him for a year. You all gave up on him after the first few months," Conner yelled at his teammates.

"Conner, we didn't give up on him. We're just trying to move on," M'Gann repeated.

"And what if it was one of you? Would you have wanted us to give up on you then? Huh?!"

"Of course not, but-"

"Then, why are you giving up on him?"

"Because, it's not the same, Conner. It's not the same," Dick said, his voice a little louder and firmer than the others.

"No, it is the same. Fine! Give up for all I care. I didn't need your help anyway," The Kryptonian said, turning his back on his friends and walking away.

"Conner, wait," M'Gann called out, but the Kryptonian ignored her, continuing his walk.

"Let him go, M'Gann. He needs some time," Kaldur said, placing a comforting hand on the Martian's shoulder.

"But, we can't just let him go. He's not thinking clearly," She argued.

"He's not thinking at all," Artemis said, her arms crossed.

"Artemis," Kaldur warned.

"What? It's true. Have none of you paid attention for the past year?! He won't even consider the possibility that Y/N is dead," She said.

"He's not ready to accept that," Zatanna spoke, her voice quiet and solemn.

"Well, he's going to have to. We can't keep doing this. We can't keep chasing after him. We have lives, and we have missions, and we can't keep putting them on hold," Artemis said.

"She's right," Wally said, earning a surprised look from his girlfriend, "I want Y/N to be alive just as much as any of us, but we can't keep doing this. We can't keep chasing him. We have other things to worry about. We have school, jobs, missions, and families. We can't keep putting them on hold."

"I agree," Kaldur said, "As much as I hate to say it, we have to move on. We have to accept the fact that he's not coming back."

Everyone else murmured their agreement, while M'Gann still looked a bit hesitant.

"What do we do about Conner? He's not going to give up."

"I say we give him another month, and if hasn't come around, then we have an intervention and force him to wake up to reality," Artemis suggested.

"That might be a bit much," Zatanna said.

"Well, what do you suggest? We can't just let him keep going on like this. He's not going to stop, and he's not going to listen to us. We have to do something," Artemis argued.

"I agree, but I don't think an intervention is the best idea," Kaldur said.

"Well, what do you suggest?"

"I think we should just give him some space. Let him cool off and come to terms with the situation on his own."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then, we intervene."

Things didn't get better as Artemis predicted.

With it seemingly just being himself now that his friends had given up, Conner had become even more obsessed with finding Y/N. He'd slowly done another 180 and turned into a worse version of himself when he came out of the pod.

His temper was back and stronger than ever. He barely spent time around his friends, and he was making rash decisions on missions. Black Canary and Superman both tried to intervene to talk to him, even looking into getting professional psychiatric counseling to help Conner deal with his grief.

None of it worked.

Everyone knew how much he loved—how much he loves—Y/N.

They knew how much he cared about him.

They knew how much he didn't want to believe what happened just as much as they knew he wouldn't accept it.

Conner refused to believe it.

He didn't want to.

He couldn't.

He wouldn't.

He wouldn't believe it until he saw the body.

Until he held him in his arms.

Until he could feel his heartbeat or no heartbeat at all.

His teammates and mentors could intervene all they wanted, it wasn't going to change anything. Either Conner was going to find Y/N, or he was going to die trying. Simple as that.

All the Kryptonian could think about was Y/N and the idea of him being lost and alone somewhere in the world, without him or anyone else to help him. He already failed him once, he wasn't going to do it again.

Even while going through the old interrogation videos they had on file from the scientists and Mercy Graves from the day of the accident, he was thinking about Y/N and the moments they used to share.

Their sparring sessions which frequently ended with them play-wrestling and making out on the floor or against the cave walls. All their dates into Happy Harbor whenever Y/N had free time and didn't have to report back to his school immediately that night. Their movie nights where they'd cuddle and watch all of Y/N's favorite movies and shows wanted, and Conner would pretend to hate it but secretly enjoyed it.

He'd even randomly found himself watching more of the show with the talking sponge and sea creatures, which he still had a hard time understanding. He just knew his favorite episode was always the one he remembered watching with Y/N when they were cuddled on the couch after his near accident that same day.

Y/N was lying against a pillow on the arm of the sofa while Conner lay on top of him, resting between his legs. The Kryptonian's head of dark hair was laid on his chest, and his arms wrapped around the waist of his body, like a child hugging their favorite teddy bear.

He had his arms rested over Conner's shoulders, one of his hands rubbing up and down the Kryptonian's back while the other massaged his head, fingers threading through his dark hair while they watched the ‘Graveyard Shift' episode from Spongebob Squarepants.

“I still don’t get it,” Conner spoke gruffly, “How is he a talking sponge? What gives him the ability to speak and walk?

The smaller boy chuckled at his words, feeling how the Kryptonian nuzzled his head against his chest from the vibration of his laughs.

“I don’t know. It’s a cartoon. Not everything is supposed to make sense.”

“How am I supposed to follow along if I don’t get how the world functions?” He responded, taking one of his arms from under you to gesture at the TV. You couldn’t help the sigh and eye roll that came from your lips at your boyfriend’s antics.

As Spongebob screamed frantically while running to throw the trash out, Y/N removed his hand from Conner’s head to grab his phone off the coffee table. His baby of a Kryptonian let out a disgruntled noise, raising his head to look at him with one of his signature frowns, “Oh, calm down, you big baby. I was just grabbing my phone.” He laughed.

Conner found himself smiling at the memory, always remembering how the sound of Y/N's laugh brought him happiness, despite his occasional grumpiness from losing his head rubs.

He swore for a quick moment he could even remember the feeling of the smaller male's hands running across his head, rubbing his scalp, and playing with different sections of his hair.

It was one of the many memories he had of the two of them, and he cherished each and every one.

He'd never forget the way Y/N's eyes lit up when he talked about his favorite shows and movies, or the way his face would scrunch up in concentration when he was working on a particularly difficult math problem. He always hated math.

Conner would never forget the way his heart would race and his stomach would flutter when he'd catch the smaller boy staring at him, or the way his cheeks would flush and his lips would curl into a smile when he'd catch him. He'd never forget the way his body felt pressed against his, or the way his lips tasted, or the way his skin felt under his fingertips.

The way his name sounded rolling off his tongue, or the way his voice sounded when he was moaning his name. He'd never forget the way his touch made him feel, or the way his presence made him feel. He'd never forget the way his love made him feel.

A particular memory came to mind when Conner was attending the boarding school to watch and protect his boyfriend. It was one of the last peaceful nights he remembered having with him before Y/N found out his parents were coming to the school and their lives were turned upside down.

They were thinking of their lives at the school, wondering what their lives would be like if they didn't have to worry about Lex or his parents. It was something of a dream.

Like a little teaser into what their lives would be like when they were past this entire mess. When all was said and done, Y/N fully intended to follow through on his boyfriend's many invitations to move into the Cave and transfer to Happy Harbor. He definitely wouldn't go back to living with his parents, even if they had changed their minds and views on superheroes and the Justice League.

It was something he and the Kryptonian talked about often, even more, when they found moments of quiet on campus and even before.

The couple was currently lying in Conner's dorm room on his bed, the Kryptonian holding his smaller boyfriend against his body as he slowly regained his strength after another testing session that almost sent him into a mild seizure. Lex was only getting more determined and ruthless in these experiments, throwing all caution to the wind and instructing the scientists to use whatever they had.

Conner was more than angry and was ready to find the bald man and rip his head off his body, but he knew Y/N needed him more at that moment. One of the undercover League agents knew what was going on and supplied the Kryptonian with emergency tools that the scientists at S.T.A.R. Labs said it would be safe to use in case Y/N had any bad reactions to some of the tests.

Thankfully, Conner's roommate was gone for the night, so they didn't have to worry about him coming back. They lay on his bed in quiet, both staring out the large window of the dorm at the bright moon in the cloudless sky. Y/N's body was racked with a small shudder and/or twitch now and then, but for the most part, he was calm and he was comfortable feeling completely at peace and safe in the Kryptonian's arms.

Something was on his mind though, something the Kryptonian could tell he was waiting to ask as he felt his boyfriend's fingers tapping softly against pec, "What's on your mind, babe?"

The smaller boy felt a small smile spreading across his face, the blushing feeling in his chest at how well his boyfriend knew him, sensing when he had something that was bothering him or just weighing on his mind, "Why couldn't we just stay in your room that night forever?"

The Kryptonian couldn't help but smile at the memory, "If I remember correctly, that's exactly what I was trying to get you to agree to, but someone wanted to be stubborn."

"That someone has a name, thank you," He said, his voice muffled slightly, but the humor was still evident.

"Yeah, and they're also an idiot," Conner retorted, feeling the light smack against his chest.

"I hate you."

"No, you don't," Conner responded.

"No, I don't," Y/N confirmed.

The air was silent for a moment, as they just lay there in each other's presence, holding on to as much of the peaceful moment as they could, knowing at some point, reality would come knocking to pull them out of the safe space that was each other's presence.

"You know we can have that, right?" Conner asked.

Y/N looked up at his Kryptonian, "Have what?"

"Forever. Like you said that night in my room, we can have that. You can stay at the Cave with me, Zatanna, and M'Gann and you can share my room with me. You can transfer to Happy Harbor and we can go to school together. I'll even join the football team and let you be my cheerleader like in all those dumb movies you have me watch with you," Conner explained, his voice growing softer as he laid out their future together.

"First off, don't act like you don't enjoy those movies just as much as I do. Secondly, if anything, I'd be on the football team and you'd be my cheerleader," Y/N retorted, the Kryptonian scoffing at the mere idea of that even happening, "And, lastly, don't think I'm not on to you and you're real intentions of trying to get me to share a room with you."

Conner's mischievous smile along with his peculiar hand placement gave away the Kryptonian's thoughts at his boyfriend's words, "I have no idea what you're suggesting. But, even if I did, I'm your boyfriend, so I'd argue that I'm allowed to have those intentions."

"And that's why I'll be making sure I get my own room," Y/N smirked.

"Not if I can help it," Conner retorted, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's lips.

"You're impossible," Y/N said, his voice soft and his eyes full of love.

"But, you love me," Conner replied, his voice equally as soft and his eyes full of love.

"I do," Y/N said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I love you."

"I love you too," Conner said, his voice matching his boyfriend's, leaning down to press another kiss, this one deeper against the smaller boy's lips.

"We'll have that, right? We'll have our forever?" Y/N asked when they eventually broke apart.

"Of course, we will. I promise," Conner said, his voice firm and his eyes serious.

"Good," Y/N said, his voice soft and his eyes full of hope and love.

"Good," Conner repeated, his voice soft and his eyes full of love.

"Hey, Supey, you in here?" Wally's voice called out, startling the Kryptonian from his memories.

He and Dick walked into the mission room, finding the Kryptonian standing in front of the computer, watching the interrogation videos.

"What are you doing?"

"Watching the interrogation videos," Conner answered, his voice cold and devoid of emotion.

"Again? Dude, you've watched those a million times. You're not going to find anything new," Wally said, his voice a bit exasperated.

"Maybe not, but I'm not going to stop looking," Conner said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Dude, you can't keep torturing yourself like this. We've exhausted every option, and haven't gotten anywhere. Maybe you're right, and he's not actually dead. But, if he hasn't come back yet, maybe it's time for you to move on. You can't spend the rest of your life looking for him," Wally said, his voice a bit firmer and more serious.

"And did you ever consider that maybe he hasn't come back because he's being held captive, and hasn't managed to escape?" Conner asked, not even turning an eye to the speedster as he continued watching the videos.

"Yes, we have considered the idea. But, have you considered the possibility that he actually may just be dead?" Wally blurted.

Conner visibly tensed at the suggestion, Dick throwing a nervous look toward the speedster who looked well aware and positively anxious at his word choice. A few moments of silence passed as the next video loaded, neither of the two males knowing what to say before the Kryptonian replied.

"He's not dead."

"And how do you know that?" Dick asked softly.

"Because I just do, Dick. Alright, is that good enough for the two of you?" Conner snapped.

"No, it's not," Wally spoke, his voice a bit firmer, "You do realize it's scientifically impossible for you to have some psychic connection that tells you if Y/N is alive. You need to face reality."

"Dude, back off," Dick said, seeing how the speedster's words were starting to get to the Kryptonian.

"No, I'm not backing off. He needs to hear this. He's not going to wake up and accept the facts until someone makes him," Wally argued.

"Okay, KF. I get what you mean. But, this isn't going to help anything." Dick tried to warn his friend of the increasingly agitated Kryptonian, but it seemed Wally also was no longer listening.

"Face the facts, Conner. He's not coming back. And, if he is, which is highly unlikely, it's not going to be anytime soon. You can't keep doing this. We're all worried about you. You need help, man," Wally said.

"Wally, dude seriously, chill out," Dick said.

"What I need is for you to leave me alone," Conner growled, his hands clenched into fists.

"I'm not going to leave you alone. Not until you accept the truth. He's gone, Conner. And, he's not coming back," Wally said, his voice stern and unwavering.

"No's he not," Conner said, his voice low and his tone dangerous.

"Then, where is he?! Huh, Conner?! Where is he?!"

"KF, cut it out."

"What's going on in here?" Kaldur said, entering the mission room along with the girls.

"Nothing," Conner growled, his eyes turning back to the screen.

"It doesn't sound like nothing," Artemis said, her arms crossed.

"Well, it is. So, leave me alone," Conner said, his voice a bit louder and his tone a bit harsher.

"Conner, are you alright?" M'Gann asked, her voice soft and concerned.

"I'm fine," He growled.

"Are you sure? Because you're not acting like it," Artemis said, her voice a little more firm.

"Artemis," Kaldur warned.

"No, she's right. He's not," Wally said, "He's been watching the interrogation videos again."

"Dude," Dick turned to his friend with a warning tone knowing where this would lead if it wasn't put to a stop.

"What? It's true. He's not accepting the fact that Y/N is dead," Wally said, his voice a bit louder.

"Seriously, knock it off," Dick said, his voice a bit more firm.

"No, I'm not going to stop. In fact, I told you we should've deleted these videos a long time ago. He's been obsessing over them," Wally said, his voice rising.

That got Conner's attention again, and everyone could see it by the furious twitch in his brow.

"Wally, knock it off," Dick said, his voice a bit louder.

"No, dude! He's not listening to us. He's not listening to the League. He's not listening to anyone. He's not listening to the facts. He's not even listening to his own heart, He's not accepting the fact that Y/N is gone," Wally yelled, his voice getting louder and louder.

"Wally, drop it!" Kaldur shouted.

"He's not coming back, Conner. He's not coming back. He's not-"

"Shut up," Conner growled.

"He's not coming back. He's dead, Conner! Are you listening to me right now? Y/N is dead!"

"I said shut up!" Conner roared, his fist flying and hitting the speedster square in the jaw, sending him flying across the room until he landed on the floor by the wall with a sickening thud.

"Conner!"

"Wally!"

Artemis, M'Gann, and Zatanna ran over to Wally to check on him while Kal and Dick shoved Conner away from the computer.

"Dude, what the hell," Dick yelled, his voice a mix of anger and shock.

"He deserved it," Conner growled, his fists clenched and his body shaking.

"You didn't have to hit him," Kaldur said, his voice a mixture of concern and frustration.

"Yes, I did. He wouldn't shut up," Conner said, his voice cold and his eyes full of rage.

Neither would admit it, but both males were very unsettled by the dark and dead look that seemed to be cast over their friend as he stared back at them blankly. If they both unconsciously stepped back to ensure they weren't within swinging distance, it wasn't anyone's business but their own.

"Conner, you can't just go around hitting people because they're saying things you don't want to hear," Kaldur said, his voice a combination of authority and worry.

"Yes, I can. Especially when they're saying things that are wrong," Conner said, his voice still calm and his eyes still cold.

"He's not wrong, Conner. We've all accepted the fact that Y/N is gone. And, it's time you do the same," Kaldur said, his voice a bit sterner.

"I'm not accepting anything," Conner said, his voice a bit louder.

"Conner, you have to. You can't keep living like this," Kaldur said, his voice growing softer and his eyes pleading.

"Apparently, Kal, you've got the same listening issue as Dick and everyone else around here. I'd say it in Atlantean for you, but I don't speak fish so I guess you're just going to have to deal with English. I'm not accepting anything. I'm not giving up. I'm not going to stop looking for him. I'm not going to stop believing. I'm not going to stop hoping. And, I'm not going to stop loving him," Conner said, his voice a lot louder and his eyes a lot colder.

A small groan was heard from the other side of the room, as Artemis and M'Gann managed to prop Wally over their shoulders, getting him back on his feet slowly.

"Hopefully, this teaches you to keep your mouth shut in the future," Conner said before walking off, his teammates watching his retreating back in silence.

"Dude, what the hell," Wally groaned, his head throbbing.

"You deserved it," Artemis said, her voice a bit harsh.

"What the hell did I do?"

"You're an idiot," She retorted.

"You're not wrong," Dick agreed, "You shouldn't have pushed him like that."

"I was just trying to get him to listen," Wally defended.

"Yeah, and you did a great job of that," Artemis said sarcastically.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't think he'd hit me. I didn't think he'd react like that," Wally said.

"Clearly, you didn't think at all," Artemis said, her voice a bit softer.

"I'm sorry, okay. I didn't mean for any of this to happen," Wally said, his voice a mix of guilt and regret.

"We know, Wally. We're not mad at you. Well, except him," Dick said.

"We all want to see Conner move on and get better, Wally. But, there's a difference between helping him see the truth and berating him," Kaldur explained.

The speedster just nodded, before feeling Artemis and M'Gann nudge him away, "Come on, idiot. Let's get you to the Medbay so we can clean that lip. Man, you finally get knocked between your teeth, and I can't even say it wasn't from me or that it was justified. Way to ruin my day, dipshit."

"Aren't you just the loveliest," Wally replied sarcastically.

Dick, Kaldur, and Zatanna watched them walk off before turning toward each other.

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know, Z. I really don't know," Dick answered.

"This is getting out of hand," Kaldur said, his voice a mix of worry and frustration, running a hand down his face.

"Maybe, we should try talking to him again," Zatanna suggested.

"If he reacts the same way he just reacted with Wally, I'd rather avoid it. I was fine with him taking his anger and frustration out on the bad guys, but him doing it to us is a different story," Dick said.

"I agree. We need to find a way to get through to him, and soon before his violent outburst gets worse," Kaldur stated.

"So, no more giving him space then?" Zatanna asked.

"Maybe not necessarily, we don't want to provoke him into open confrontation like Wally just did, but clearly, leaving him alone is only making the problem get worse because he's not acknowledging or dealing with his grief," Kaldur said.

"Agreed. The last thing we need is him going rogue," Dick said.

"Do you think he'd actually do that?" Zatanna asked, her voice a bit worried.

"I don't want to think that, but you've seen the way he's been looking and walking around lately and the one person who could actually get him to listen without being threatened by violence is more than likely buried somewhere. It's almost like being around a ticking time bomb, or worse, walking around someone who's possessed. Kal, tell me you weren't the least bit unsettled with the way he was just looking at us. Like there was nothing behind his eyes besides anger and death," Dick asked his Atlantean friend.

"I was," Kaldur answered, his voice a bit solemn.

"Me too," Zatanna said, her voice a bit quiet.

"Okay, so we're all in agreement. We need to figure out something, and we need to do it soon. Otherwise, the next person who pisses him off might not be so lucky," Dick said.

"Agreed." The two others said.

"Recording in progress. Project: E&D. Log #77..."

The three teens whipped around to the computer, seeing it play a recording none of them ever heard before. They each looked at each other weirdly while listening to the recording, each feeling a little bit unnerved.

"We still haven't found any concrete findings on the source of the subject's abilities, but we have made other fascinating discoveries. According to the parents of the subject, the abilities he displays now all came at different age points in his previous years. First was the enhanced durability, an ability shared by many notable metas and heroes. This power came about in his early childhood, not enough to raise alarms, but enough to have the parents rightfully suspicious."

A sick, ghostly feeling overcame the three teenagers as they realized what they were all listening to.

"Oh. My. God. This is about Y/N!" Zatanna stated.

"And, it's from the experiments Lex was performing on him. This must be from one of the scientists who were working on the project as well." Dick theorized.

"But, I thought Batman, Superman, and the League collected every piece of evidence and recording they could find from that place. We would know since Conner had us listen and watch every single piece of evidence we had in hopes of finding a clue to where he might be. I've never heard this one before," Kaldur pointed out.

The two other team members each shrugged at the Atlantean before they all went back to listening.

"Then, came the power of flight and energy manipulation in his teenage years, which led us to rule out Kryptonian biology after the inhuman speed he developed in his pre-teen years. Since energy manipulation has never been a known or recorded Kryptonian ability, it brought us back to the main three categories we had for the potential answer to the subject's source. But, this discovery along with the new data that's coming in from the tests we've been doing with the serums on his body, has led us to the conclusion that whatever gives the subject these different abilities is active and growing. If these were powers he developed in his early stages of life, it definitely leaves us to question if he will manifest other ones in the future as he ages and develops more."

"Wait, did that guy just say there's a possibility Y/N could grow to develop other powers in the future?"

"He sure did."

"Okay, but, what does any of that have to do with the explosion the day Y/N disappeared?"

"I don't know. But, I have a feeling we're about to find out," Kaldur said, his voice a bit grim.

"The most exciting part is we may have stumbled upon a new power completely by trial and error. After we discovered the unknown pathogen tampering with our serums, we had to reduce the potency and level of our experiments to eliminate any potential risk to the subject's health. But, we found that during one of the experiment sessions post-reduction, when the patient seemed to be under a lot of stress, especially after his conversation with Mr. Luthor, a slight startle from that dunderhead Martin seemingly caused the subject to teleport himself from one end of the room to the other, in theory away from the thing that startled him, i.e. the danger or stressor."

All of their eyes went wide.

"The subject now seems to have unlocked the power of teleportation!"

"Holy shit! Y/N can teleport?!"

"It would appear so, yes."

"With this new ability, the subject could virtually teleport themselves out of situations that pose any danger or stress to them. Imagine the possibilities. If the subject can learn to control and harness this power, it could be the key to the ultimate weapon against the Justice League and their allies. A secret agent, able to sneak into the most secure facilities and locations undetected and unseen. And, if they can't handle the mission, they can simply teleport themselves out of the situation. This is a breakthrough. Unfortunately, since this is an ability the subject unlocked while in a drug-induced state and was not aware of it post-test, Mr. Luthor has instructed no one to inform him of this development, nor does he want any testing of this ability until further notice. Since his discovery of the relationship between the subject and the still liberated Project: K.R., he's been very cagey about things but urging us to speed up our work, as if he's preparing for something. These brainwashed fools may listen to his every word, but I intend to get every piece of data I can from these experiments. Oh- someone's coming. I must end this log early. Grant out."

"Y/N can teleport," Zatanna said, her voice a bit soft.

Dick had a look of realization come over him, "That's why no one could find him. He wasn't vaporized or abducted. He teleported himself away," He said, his voice a mix of relief and realization.

"But, where did he go? And, why hasn't he come back yet?"

"I don't know, Z. But, the fact that we're even asking that question means—"

"Conner was right. Y/N is alive."

The two dark-haired teens turned to their Atlantean leader, who held a relieved but stern gaze over his face as he stared at the recording sitting open on the computer.

"Call Batman and Superman now."

Conner was walking along the beach with Wolf. He needed to get out of the Cave for a little bit, feeling a little bit guilty for how he reacted with Wally. It wasn't completely his fault though!

Wally shouldn't have been pushing his buttons so much. He was basically asking for it.

Either way, the Kryptonian knew he was going to have to apologize at some point. He knew his behavior was getting out of control, and he was aware of how his friends and teammates were starting to feel uneasy around him.

But, he couldn't help it.

All he could think about was Y/N and how much he loved him. How much he missed him back and how much he wanted him back.

He'd give anything to have him back, and he'd do anything to make that happen.

But, maybe his friends were right. Maybe he was chasing a lost dream and it was time for him to move on. Maybe it was time for him to accept the truth.

Conner looked down at the sand, the canine whining at his side as he could sense his human's sad distress, smelling the sad emotions all over him. He blinked repeatedly, trying to hold back the tears pooling in his eyes, but they just kept coming before they were eventually dripping and falling into the sand on the beach.

"I'm sorry, boy. I'm trying. I'm really trying," Conner said, his voice a bit broken.

Wolf barked softly, nudging his head into his human's leg with another whine.

"I know, buddy. I miss him too," Conner said, his voice a bit softer, running his hand across the canine's fur, though he seemed to be poking his snout up at a scent he caught on the wind, his tail wagging back and forth excitedly.

The silence over the beach was so loud, but not louder than the Kryptonian's soft sniffles as he stared out over the water, pulling the folded-up photo out of his pocket. Despite his overwhelming mournful attitude, he couldn't help the small smile that crossed his lips as he stared at the photo of himself, Y/N, and their friends at the beach. The same day he told Y/N he was a clone.

The same day he confessed his feelings for him.

Tears were falling onto the photo.

"I'm sorry," Conner whispered, his voice a bit broken.

"You know, you really need to stop apologizing so much."

Conner's head shot up.

There was no way. It wasn't possible.

Wolf suddenly shot away from his side, barking happily before the sound of him tackling someone to the ground hit the Kryptonian's eardrums.

There was no fucking way. It couldn't be possible.

He turned around slowly, to see the canine licking the face of the person he was currently lying on top of.

"Okay! Wolf, Sweet Jesus, okay! I missed you too, buddy," Y/N or at least someone that had Y/N's body laughed, his voice a bit muffled from his arms trying to cover his face as the canine tried to lick him.

Conner inched a bit closer, scared out of his mind to take too big of a step and risk the sight in front of him disappearing like an illusion. It'd be really ironic and bittersweet if he was to be actually losing his mind at this moment.

"Y/N?" Conner muttered softly under his breath.

When the smaller figure finally managed to get the excited canine off of him, he uncovered his face looking up at the Kryptonian before smiling that same infectious smile that had Conner's heart spiking and his eyes watering even more than they were before, mirroring the same watery eyes staring back at him.

Y/N slowly stood up, looking at his Conner with red eyes, doing his best to hold in his own tears, "Did ya miss me?"

"Is it really you?" The taller boy asked, still 100% not trusting that he wasn't losing his mind and this wasn't a product of his overly emotional state. This is why it was so much easier to keep shit bottled in.

Y/N didn't say anything for a moment, just staring at him leading Conner to think he really was hallucinating or sleep-walking until he opened his arms toward the Kryptonian, "Open arms?"

Realization hit him and before he even knew what he was doing, the Kryptonian felt his feet moving on their own and his arms were wrapped tightly around his boyfriend, holding him close and tight, almost afraid to let him go.

"Don't you ever leave me again," Conner whispered, his voice a bit broken.

"I won't. I promise," Y/N replied, his voice very broken.

But for the first time in a long time, the young hero finally felt comfortable. He finally felt like he could let his guard down after so long, feeling safe in the arms of his lover.

"I love you, Conner."

"I love you too, Y/N."

They sat just like that for a while, holding each other and finally basking in each other's presence again, "So does forever start now?" Y/N asked through a small sob.

Conner smiled through his own tears, comforting his boyfriend like he used to.

"Yeah, it starts now."

☀️ | Conner Kent/Superboy | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

137 notes · View notes

writing-mlm · 3 months

Note

Idk if you take requests right now, but if you do, can you please write more damian wayne x reader 🙏

Sincerely, someone who has been scavenging for damian fics for days 😔

New Years, Same Words [D.W]

Summary: He's tired of hiding, but damn Damian cannot be subtle for the life of him. Pairing: Damian Wayne x male!reader WC: 8.8k

a/n: recs are always open :3

Back home, school was so different, almost every single detail was different. The way humans digested information was so slow and inefficient; back home students wore helmets and immediately got the knowledge they’d need. No need for lectures or turn and talks. They’re learning ideas and math that, quite frankly, a child back home would’ve already learned.

But, you enjoyed this style. No matter how stupid it was. Back home, you never really had a chance to bond with peers or enjoy any activities like art or music. It was telepathic lessons and then home, usually, that’s when the kids would play together. But the school-sanctioned together time was nice.

Everything else sucked.

The hallways were cramped and you had to watch extra carefully to not bump into people and break their shoulders. No matter how badly you wanted to.

“(Y/n)!” You hear from across the hall and look over, seeing your adoptive brother running down the hallway with his bag almost slipping from his shoulder. “I’m here!” He says, beaming as he stands next to you.

“You’re a mess,” You chide while fixing his bag and almost pick him up in the process. “Apologies.”

“You ready for class?” He almost groans as he says it. “I swear, if she gives us another pop quiz, I’m going to laser her!” He whispers the last part and you chuckle.

“No quiz,” You reassure him, turning down the hallway. ELA was at the end of the hallway, right next to the smelly staircase where kids go to smoke or leave the building due to a faulty alarm system. “I heard we have a project.”

“From who?” He says, voice raising several octaves. Jon has this thing, he doesn’t believe news from certain people, even if they’re later proven to be right.

“Marissa,” He stops walking and you can basically hear his thoughts. He’s so debating skipping class. “She said it’s not bad, c’mon!” Grabbing the back of his collar, you pull him after you as you hear the start of the warning bell. Quickly, you pull your headphones from around your neck to your ears and the bell rings.

It’s at a human volume with the headphones on, so it’s still loud but not nearly as loud as it would’ve been otherwise.

School back home also didn’t have bells.

Sliding into your seat, you drop your bag in between your legs while glancing around. Mostly everyone is in class, save for a couple of people. The teacher is late, but you can hear her running up the staircase— not the smelly one, one that’s going to take her at least two minutes to get to class. She never uses a different staircase.

Mrs. Elton is particular about that sort of stuff, her classroom never changes. She’s gone as far as to superglue the desks in a permanent shape around the class. There are three groups of desks, two in the front and one in the back. The one in the back is a straight horizontal line of seven desks while the front ones are arranged in an upside-down T shape. The vertical side of the T has eight tables, with four tables turned to face each other, while the horizontal side has four desks.

Your seat is in the front, on the horizontal line. While seats aren’t technically assigned, they totally are assigned amongst everyone else. Jon has the seat in front of you, and he can never see the board properly since he has to turn his whole body around to see it.

Mrs. Elton finishes her run up the stairs as the final bell goes off and the remaining students trickle into class. Amongst them is your other seatmate, the girl who sits to your right. She looks a little upset but she visibly calms down when she sees you.

“I thought you were absent,” She tells you as she walks around your chair to get to hers. “You weren’t in second period, what the fuck, dude?” She playfully hits you with her bag before it settles on her lap.

“I was late,” You shrug, watching her pull out her pink Macbook case with several stickers on it. “Why, what happened second?” She gives you a look before she slips her bag down to the floor and you raise an eyebrow, looking at Jon who shrugs.

“They were making plans to make a bomb for the winter dance.” She says. “Those two kids who always sit in the back, like that’s normal right?” You nod, the two kids in the back always talk about school shootings and whatnot but they’re typically harmless. “They talked about how their orders for materials came in and exactly where they’re gonna plant it.”

“Text me,” She nods and Mrs. Elton walks into the room, effectively silencing the class. She’s dressed like an English teacher, which you hadn’t known was a stereotype for the longest. You thought there were dress codes for each subject teachers.

Go figure.

“Good morning!” She smiles, her kitten heels clicking on the brown tiled floor as she heads over to her desk. Her laptop is already connected to the smart board so she only has to log back in. “How was everyone’s weekend?” There are some murmurs amongst the kids but she takes what she can get.

“As I’m sure you’re all aware, we have a project!” With her presentation on the screen, she turns to face everyone and clasps her hands together. “This will not be a group project, but there are many options to choose from.” She turns around again, fiddling with the keyboard. “Skipping the do now, let’s get right into it.” She pulls up a slide that’s blank for now. She does this thing where she presses a button and words pop up. “The Best Friend project!” She announces as it pops up on the board.

“This is different from your other projects since this is a project that’s a week long. You only get this week to do it and everyone will be presenting next week. We’ll do it by volunteer order, if no one volunteers then I will call you to go!” She explains and you glance over at Jon. His back is to you, but you can see him rubbing his forehead.

“As seniors, you need to understand how to present. But this is an easier one to do since I’m giving you so many options!” A list of options pops up as she says that. “Firstly, you can make a photo slideshow and explain your friendship; you can make a video collage with a voiceover, you can write a newspaper article and read it to the class, or you can bring the person in. But only if they do not have my class. So say Blake wanted to do his project on say… Michael, he could not bring him in. But if Blake wanted to do his project on his neighbor, he could bring them in. Understand?” Everyone nods and she moves on.

“Pick the way you want to do your project today,” She says, looking over the class. “After today, we will not be working on this during class, we will continue to read Salvage the Bones.”

“Go ahead! Start!” She smiles and turns on the class playlist as everyone turns to their laptops.

“Who’re you doing yours on?” Amira asks, already on a blank slideshow document.

“Not you,” You laugh and she fake scoffs. “You don’t know him, though.” She hums in acknowledgment.

“Do I?” Jon asks and you look at him, head tilted and lips pulled into your mouth. “Ohhh!” He nods. “I’m doing mine on Jay!”

“Fun,” You offer a smile and look over the options.

Writing in English is not your strong suit, it’s why you weren’t allowed into AP classes. You were amazing with working on stuff but you were still learning English, despite living on Earth for four years now. Kara says that’s normal and it took her ages to get to your level of speaking and understanding English, but you feel stupid struggling with the words.

You pull out your phone and open your messages.

would u come to my school next week

4 a project

What type of project?

‘best friend project’

Is this like Show and Tell?

idk what that is…

I’ll explain later.

But I’ll agree, explain it to me tonight, okay?

kk :3

Closing your phone, you set it face down on the desk and look over the “bring a person in” section. It says you can either give a completely verbal presentation but you’ll need to create a transcript for it, for proper grading, or you can create a presentation in which the two of you explain what’s happening. You opt for the second one.

There are some requirements, though. Each presentation needs to be at least ten minutes long; which you think is absurd, there cannot be any cursing included, and visual aids are required for all but the verbal presentation. Videos cannot be longer than two minutes, and only a maximum of two videos— each of them gives an extra five points to your grade.

“Imagine someone does Damian Wayne.” The local Gothamite, Rebecca laughs and you share a look with Jon.

“I totally am!” Her friend, Mariam jokes. “We’ve been dating for ages, darling!” Her group shares a laugh and your mind is settled on doing yours on him.

—

Meeting Damian during his patrols had become somewhat of the norm since you started dating. For many reasons, but mainly since Batman doesn’t have super hearing, despite what the general public and some heroes may think. While you’re not entirely out of earshot of Kal-El, being in Gotham meant that he would have to focus a bit more on listening to you instead of doing whatever he was doing back home. Sure, sometimes Damian came to Metropolis, but that was rare. Only one of you could get to and from in three seconds, after all.

“So,” You start as you slowly lower yourself down to the roof he's standing on, it’s on the outer side of Gotham, away from any of the normal patrol spots. “You’re dating someone else?” Robin frowns and crosses his arms.

“Ya albi, never.” He says in the most reassuring tone you’ve ever heard him speak in while slowly pulling you close. “Where’d you hear this?” It’s hard continuing the charade and you give up, a grin spreading across your face. It lets him immediately know and his frown goes into an unamused glare.

“These girls were joking about dating you during class,” You explain as he pushes you away and rolls his eyes. You smile and pull him back towards you, he crosses his arms and makes a point to keep a distance between the two of you.

“Moving on,” He fixes your cape before wrapping his hands around your shoulders and pulling you down to his height. Leaning in, you watch his eyes close before he kisses you and you let your eyes close. Pulling him closer, you dig your fingers into his hips and smile when he smiles.

“I was thinking,” He says when the two of you pull away. “We should go to the New Year’s gala together,” You pause, standing up straight and looking over the Gotham skyline before back at him.

“As us?” You ask and he nods, his eyes searching your face for any signs of… anything really.

“We could go as us for the one father is hosting and then as Robin and Rao for the Justice League party.” He suggests and he means it. He��s just as tired of kissing in corners as you are and you smile, big and bright before calming yourself.

“Are you sure? This is an incredibly big step, there’s no taking it back.”

You’ve thought about this moment before. Even before you started dating, you’d daydream about the world finding out Robin and Rao were dating. About the world finding out that Damian Wayne is dating the adopted son of Lois Lane and Clark Kent, the world's best reporters.

It wasn’t always the best in your head, you thought of the villains and the press. The jealous fans and suddenly you’re no longer just that kid in school.

And you didn’t care. You’d thought of every single bad scenario, every scenario that almost made Clark and Lois break up; but it didn’t matter. You… you were in love with Damian, in every way. All of him, whatever he came with you were down for. You’d kill for him— you have killed for him. Not that he ever has to find that out.

“Rao,” He says in a stern voice, pulling you back to him. “I… I want you forever. Why would I take any of this— of us back?” He asks as if you’ve offended him, his eyes darting between yours as he speaks. He’s talking as if you had thought so little of him as to think he wasn’t in the relationship a thousand percent. That you weren’t the best thing in his life and he’d do everything to not lose you.

“I dunno,” You shrug, letting go of him but he grabs your hands to stop you from moving. “What if you want someone else one day? Someone who can’t hear the fact that your heart is racing and your blood is rushing? Or the fact that Batman is trying to reach you right now.” From several streets over, you can hear Bruce speaking into his comm trying to reach Damian. He’s asking Barbara why he isn’t responding, worried for his son.

“I will never want someone else.” He promises, squeezing your hand and clicks his earpiece to turn it back on.

“Yes, father?” He takes a step away but doesn’t let go of your hand.

“Robin, where have you been? We’ve been trying to reach you for ten minutes” You hear Bruce tell him, worry lacing his voice.

“Sorry, father. I accidentally turned it off.” Damian gives you a look that screams not to laugh.

“There’s a robbery close to you, it’s just Catwoman,” Bruce explains and Damian sighs, saying he’s going on it. Better than to have his father go and have sex on the roof again.

He still couldn't get the picture out of his head when the gossip pages found them one day. He almost moved out after that.

“Call me,” You smile as you begin to hover above the roof. “I still gotta explain the project to you.”

“Yknow, this could go by faster if you helped.” He offers and you laugh.

“Is Robin asking me for help?” He scoffs and lets go of your hand before walking to the edge of the roof. You watch him, already knowing your answer to his request but you wanted to see how long it would take him to say something.

“Let’s go!” He calls and you grin, flying over to him and he lets you scoop him up before heading over to the bank.

—

A week comes and goes, you’d finished your presentation the same day you had told Damian about it. Clark and Bruce insisted on getting it done as quickly as possible— you’d just take any excuse to spend the night in a fucking manor.

“Good morning!” Mrs. Elton smiles as the final bell rings. “I’m so glad some of you signed up to give your presentations, uhh—“ She looks at a notepad on her desk, reading over the names. “Today we have (Y/n), Rebecca, Julie, and Jesus!” A little confused, you try and think if there’s another (Y/n) in your class. But you’re the only one in the entire grade. And you sure as hell did not sign up.

“You signed up?” Amira whispers and you shake your head.

“I absolutely did not!” You whisper back, pulling your phone from your bag to text Damian. God, it would probably take him at least half an hour to get from Gotham to Metropolis. But as you open your phone, you realize there wasn’t a mixup with the volunteers.

I’m in the office, about to head up.

The text had been sent two minutes ago, and when you look up you can see him at the door. He sees you see him and ducks out of view before anyone else can. You should’ve listened harder, you could’ve spotted his heartbeat sooner.

“Oh, you’re doing a buddy presentation?” Mrs. Elton says as she looks over your slides. You nod, your heart hammering in your chest. “Are they here?” Again, you nod and she smiles. “Excellent! Bring them in!” Standing up, you head to the door and step outside.

“One second, Ms!” You say before the door closes. Damian is leaning against the wall opposite to the room. He’s dressed a little fancier than he normally is, a turtleneck and slacks. But he’s wearing a pair of thick, black boots. Are those yours..?

“You asshole!” You whisper, ignoring the boot situation and he looks at you, faking a confused look. “I’m shitting myself, dude! Oh my god!” You rush over to him, running your hands over your face as you talk.

“Habibi,” He places a hand on your shoulder. “You’ll do fine, it’s nothing compared to fighting Lex, right?” Sighing, you nod and calm yourself. You’d given speeches to entire countries before, this is a walk in the park comparatively. “Good, now let’s go.” He turns you around to face the door and for some reason, talking to the President was easier than walking into that classroom.

Nope. Not fine.

But he guides you back into the classroom and you stand at the open door.

“Come on in!” Mrs. Elton encouraged you with a smile and a gentle wave to usher you over. Licking your lips, you head inside and Damian steps in after you. Immediately there are murmurs throughout the room and several eyes land on him. Mariam gasps and slaps Rebecca’s arm. She’s been on her phone, mostly uninterested for the most part but when she looks up her eyes go wide.

“You may start,” Mrs. Elton hands you a remote that lets you control the slides and you thank her, fiddling with the remote as you and Damian stand off to the side of the screen.

“My best friend is Damian,” You start, trying to shake off the feeling of absolute dread over you. Not that it works. “Um… I met him what— two, three years ago?” Time is hard for you, times blend together and merge, sometimes stretching to points where they couldn’t have possibly happened. But Kara thinks it’s the lingering effects of the Phantom Zone.

“Four,” He corrects and looks over at you. “I was there when you arrived.” That’s right, you’d forgotten when you crashed into Earth. Bruce and Damian had gone with Clark when the Watchtower got a reading of a spaceship entering Earth's orbit. You’d crashed into the middle of the Atlantic Ocean and almost sunk to the bottom of the sea.

You nod, looking back to the class. “Four years ago, when I was adopted, I met him. I think he hated me back then, though.” You chuckle, pressing the slide to pictures you have where the then fourteen-year-old Damian was either attacking you or clearly yelling. In all of the pictures, you’re unbothered or confused, still learning the language. “Can’t imagine why, probably because I’m black.”

“It’s because you kept breaking my stuff,” He corrects quickly. “I went through five phones, six doors, and I think twenty windows that first month.” He lists and you want to defend yourself, imagine suddenly being so strong that a simple nudge could send walls toppling down but you can’t say that.

“Don’t remember that,” Shaking your head, you click to the next slide and look at it. You’d forgotten all about that trip.

“This was when my father took the Kent’s on vacation to The Netherlands,” Damian says, looking at the picture of you looking out of the plane window. You look unamused and you remember saying I can see this all the time, why would I get the window seat? And you ended up switching seats with Jon. Another picture is of you and Damian sitting on the windowsill of the hotel, it’s nighttime and you’re both watching the stars.

You remembered talking to him about your home and he’d talked to you about his.

Another picture is Damian, Jon, and you at a creek. You and Jon are knee-deep in the water but Damian is sitting on a tire swing, clearly disgusted about the idea. He’s yelled about bugs, parasites, and fish pee infecting the water. Jon wanted to throw him in, but you talked him down.

“We spent a week there,” You explain, looking back at the class. “I think that’s when we actually became friends.” He agrees, giving a small nod and you click to the next slide. It’s a video, and from the thumbnail, it’s set around Christmastime.

You’re in the woods, wearing a jacket Lois had gifted you; Damian is holding the phone from what you remember.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Damian’s voice is the first thing you hear as the video starts. It’s different from his voice now and you wonder when the change happened.

“I’m good!” You dismiss and pick up your pace when you see the thing you’ve been looking for. It’s a little embarrassing hearing your voice, especially how you sounded back then. But it’s still a fond memory.

In the middle of the forest was a lake, and it had frozen over. Clark had wanted to give it a couple of weeks to get to a proper thickness and you felt you’d waited long enough. It had been four weeks already, and you heard Alaska got pretty cold.

“Do not,” Damian warns as you hold onto a tree, lowering yourself onto the ice. “(Y/n)!” He sets the phone down on a fallen tree and goes into view of the camera, following after you. But his point was to get as close to you as possible without getting onto the ice.

“I’m fine, Damian!” You wave him off, putting a foot onto the ice. “It’s slippery!” You gasp, putting your other foot, and struggle to find your balance for a good second.

“It’s ice.” He reminds, still holding his hand out. “Now, c’mon! That’s dangerous, even for you.” Looking at him, you hold your hands on your hips and grin. Your balance is much better now that you’ve gotten your bearings.

“Nothing bad ever happens to me!” You declare and take a shaky step further into the lake. It’s more difficult than just standing and you’re tempted to just cheat by flying a little bit.

“You’re an orphan for a reason,” He sighs and you loudly boo at him. You must’ve booed him for a good five seconds, both your thumbs pointed down and he rolls his eyes.

“One bad thing happened to me!” Taking another step, you almost fall and he lunges to grab you but you’re able to remain upright.

“See,” You look at him and he shakes his head, carefully inspecting the ice. His body language changes when he does and he takes a mini step closer, holding his hand out with a sense of urgency.

“Off the ice, now.” He demands and you look down. You can hear the cracks forming and there are white lines starting to appear. But you’d assumed the noises had been from the woods. “(Y/n),” Looking up at him, you grab his hand and he pulls you towards him.

The ice lets out a sharp crack and you remember watching the ice fall into the water as the two of you fell back into the snow, your heart swelling with some feeling. It wasn’t even the fact that you’d almost fallen, you were more than sure you would’ve been a-okay; it was the fact that he had cared that much about your safety.

“I could’ve flown,” You whisper, looking at the spot you’d been standing at. The video doesn’t pick it up, but you remember what happened. How the two of you had fallen back and he held you tightly until that point.

“Doesn’t mean you can be so reckless,” He says, standing up before pulling you up. “Let’s head back to the cabin, be glad Lois isn’t here to scold you.” He picks the camera up as he speaks and you roll your eyes.

“I’m sure you’re gonna tell her either way.” The video ends and you look towards your classmates again.

“That’s an example of why I’m the best,” You announce, faking being serious. “But in my defense, it was my second winter ever and I was very excited.” Back home, the weather was just… not cold. At least where you lived.

“And stupid,” Damian mutters and you nudge him, hiding your grin. He nudges you back and you’re about to start a stupid nudging war when Mrs. Elton clears her throat.

“When was this?” Mrs. Elton asks, motioning to the video.

“Two years ago,” You answer, looking back to the video that’s stuck on a still of Damian and you walking up, a cheesy grin on your face while he’s less than impressed. “Clark and Lois rented out a cabin in Alaska, I invited Damian. We spent the weekend there and he never did tell Lois about the incident.” But Clark surely did hear, so when you returned there was some discussion about safety and caution.

“That same day, (Y/n) decided it would be a good idea to try and befriend a wild bear,” Damian says and you scoff, going to the next slide.

“Me and Jerry did become friends,” You grumble.

“This is for my birthday last year,” Damian says as he looks at the picture that’s in an apartment Bruce rented so Damian could have a small party with just his friends. He saw Billy, Cassie, Bart, Wally, Jackson, Nika, Jon, Courtney (who he didn’t really know, she was more your friend since he had no interest in Stargirl), Jaime, and you standing around a table with him in the center. There’s a birthday cake but most of it is hidden by the several bodies in front of it.

He has a ridiculous paper party hat on and there’s some frosting on his nose. He looks less than amused but you remember he put up no protest to any of the things that happened that night. Although Wally said it’s because it was you doing it and had it been anyone else, they would’ve lost an arm.

And he agreed!

There’s a green Happy Birthday balloon banner behind him and in a different picture, it’s the two of you standing in front of it. You’re both holding sparklers, which was incredibly dangerous according to basically everyone else. But it’s an apartment filled with teen superheroes, a little sparkler was not going to be the thing that caused damage.

“It was a group sleepover,” You announce, staring at the picture Jaime had taken of everyone sleeping on the large couch. There are several blankets over people so no one’s really huddled together for warmth until you see you and Damian in the corner of the couch.

You’re still awake, on your phone but Damian is knocked the fuck out, his head is on your shoulder and if you squint, you can see his legs wrapped in yours under the cover. Your arm is around him, keeping him from rolling onto someone who’s sleeping close by.

“I didn’t think you’d put that one,” You whisper, admiring the picture. When making the presentation, Damian had suggested that you each get ‘secret slides’ and the others were not allowed to look until the day off. Your slide was the ice video.

“Nika considers it a soft launch, whatever that means.” He grins and you smile.

There’s another picture, but it’s a picture of a picture. Taken on those handheld cameras that were really popular in the early 2000s. It’s of you, Damian, and Nika. The three of you are in the kitchen, sitting on the kitchen island with Damian in the middle.

You’re eating cake, surprised that someone was going around taking pictures while Nika is blowing a kiss to the camera and Damian is actually smiling for the picture.

There’s a picture right next to it where you’re actually posed. Your back is to Damian and Nika copies as the two of you fake holding guns, acting as his bodyguards. He’s playfully rolling his eyes, and there’s a wider grin on his face in that picture. It was actually your screen saver.

Honestly, when you first met Flatline, you were kinda upset. She did kinda kill him and then they became best friends? It was confusing as all hell but whatever, you warmed up to her and she was actually really cool.

“The cake was super good,” You note as you press the next slide. It’s another video, and it’s still from the birthday party. “I don’t remember this,” You admit, looking at the thumbnail. It’s when he’s being sung Happy Birthday.

“I do,” He smirks as the video plays. You could hear his heartbeat pick up a little bit and you’d have to admit you’re a little worried about the video.

“-irthday to you, happy birthday to you! Make a wish!” Everyone says and Damian takes a second. His thinking face only appears for a second before he closes his eyes and blows out his candles. They go out and everyone cheers as he stands up tall.

“Try the cake!” Nika shouts from the back.

“Come, aynii,” He tells you and you emerge from the small crowd as he wipes frosting onto his finger. You remember this exact moment and you blink, a slow and long blink as you smile. Damian notices and his heart picks up even more. He tries his best to look composed but Jon can see you unraveling in that moment.

The class watches as he wipes the frosting onto your lips quickly enough that you don’t have time to react before he kisses you.

And it’s an absolute riot when he does. Cheers and shouts take over the room. The kiss doesn’t last long as in the video, the people in the video are also cheering and you pull away, clearly flustered with so many people watching. He presses a quick final kiss to your lips and then licks his, fake-tasting the frosting while you wipe the frosting from your nose.

“Tastes lovely,” Damian tells Nika as the video ends. It ends with you turning away from the camera and Damian pulling you closer to the table and him.

“It was vanilla flavor,” Damian tells the class as they settle down. “That’s the last of the pictures,” The ten-minute requirement isn’t up yet, you have about two minutes left so your teacher suggests answering some people’s questions and you just know they are not going to be about anything other than the video.

“How long have you been dating?” Mariam asks.

“Two and a half years,” Damian answers without hesitation, his hand slipping into yours. You feel his pulse settling down against your skin and run your thumb across the small, barely visible scars littering the back of his hand.

So much for a soft launch.

—

It turns out that the student was not live, but he did in fact post the video online. Very publicly, as it was viral absolutely everywhere. It even reached Worldstar, which you thought died out several years ago. You’d seen it across all your feeds, you’d been tagged a bunch and even sent it directly. News outlets have even contacted you and there've been some vague threats for your life, but nothing you haven’t seen before. It’s just a headache seeing so many new messages you end up making entirely new accounts and setting them to private.

Clark and Bruce had both sat the two of you down when they saw it— which was immediately after it was posted. Seeing as one of them is a high-profile billionaire and the other is a high-profile reporter married to another high-profile reporter and journalist. There was an extremely long talk about… relationship stuff, and it was a little awkward when Bruce asked about some private information. Damian shut it down, though. Giving vague but concise answers to their questions while you tried to bury yourself on the couch.

They ended with basically; you’re both 18, so you’re old enough, blah blah blah, wrap it and tap it, blah blah blah, at least there won’t be pregnancy scares, blah blah blah, no more sleepovers.

That part wasn’t going to be in place for long, though.

All in all, the worst part to come out of the situation thus far was the sudden attention on your back.

People in school suddenly knew your name and while no one was acting strange, it was weird that people would suddenly be nicer to you. But at least no one was homophobic, that was something you were not going to complain about.

“So,” Rebecca and her group of friends swipe the seats around you as you’re finishing up some of your work during gym class. “Damian Wayne?” She grins, sitting next in front of you.

“That is my boyfriend.” You hum, slowly closing your laptop.

“Good!” She grins. “Because we used to go to school together and I’ve never seen him so happy before! Everyone called— fuck it, probably still calls him Arab Psycho.” She imitates his public resting face, albeit very poorly and you think for a second. It’s that human movie. Tim talks about it.

“American Psycho but he’s Arab…” You ask and she nods.

“Always felt racist but those rich white fuckers didn’t care.” She explains and you hum.

“You’re sweet,” She says. “Has he asked you to the winter dance yet?” Rebecca grins, her nails tapping against the glossy floor. “Oh my god! You two would totally be Winter formal royalty!”

“I’m not going.” She frowns and her friends make awww sounds. It’s kinda hard to explain you’re gonna spend the night as Rao, making sure kids don’t try and blow up your school. Not to mention the fact that you really did want to go, but shit happens and you’ve been to every other school dance. And there’s still prom. “But he did ask.”

“You’re stronger than me.” Kirara shakes her head. “What’s your Instagram, by the way?”

—

The day of the dance rolls around and you’re stuck with Damian on the roof of the building across from the school. Forced to listen to the music and watch people dance with their dates, just waiting and watching. He notices, of course. But he doesn’t know what to say, or what to do. He’s always avoided school dances, they felt trivial, beneath him. But you enjoyed the American school traditions like those.

He remembers whenever you’d hang out at the manor you’d insist on watching some high school movie, especially if they had dances. Apparently, they weren’t a big deal back home.

You can’t move from the roof until you’re sure there’s no bomb. Your super-vision didn’t show anything and you scouted the place the two kids talked about but nothing. Jack shit popped up. But the two kids aren’t home, so there’s a chance they might show up and do it later. A mix of Carrie and Heathers, you suppose.

It’s about midway through the dance that something happens. You recognize their dingy car— think a rusted car that is literally duct-taped together and one wind gust from breaking apart. The two of you slink into the shadows and you watch as they open the trunk, grabbing the bomb.

“At least this wasn’t for nothing,” You mutter and fly down, landing about four paces behind them. Robin lands in front of the car, his arms crossed and head tilted up.

“Planning something?” You ask and they spin around, the taller one slams the trunk shut while the shorter one stuffs something into his jacket pocket.

“Just a dance…” Short laughs, tucking his arms under his chest.

“And a bomb?” Robin asks and they spin around to see him. And it’s like the absolute life had drained out of them when they realized they had two vigilantes on them. One with a sword and the other with fucking heat vision.

“We’re sorry!” Tall shouted, getting on his knees, and his hands were in the air within seconds.

“Dude…” Short grumbles and removes the poorly made bomb from his shirt and places it on the ground before getting on his knees. “Fucking pussy.” He glares at his friends while Robin calls for the cops to pick the two up.

You pick up the bomb, looking it over. It’s about the size of a football and fairly heavy. But the intent was clearly there, you doubt it would’ve worked. They didn’t connect the wires properly. Seems they must’ve missed a step in their plans.

The cops arrive soon after along with the bomb squad. They say the bomb is safe and the two kids get locked up. Before, they used to hound for you to go back to the station to make a statement but they know you’ll show up soon and leave with a quick thank you.

“Cops in Gotham never thank us,” Robin huffs, watching them drive off.

“We’re nice here,” You shrug, looking at the school. “Wanna go to the Titans?” He looks at you and your barely hidden frown and then at the school. He’s sure his dignity isn’t as fragile as it seems because the decision isn’t a hard one to make.

“We could go inside.” The frown turns into a smile and you rush inside, your cape bellowing with how fast you move. He rolls your eyes but follows you towards the music.

Of course, the two of you cause a stir in the gym as everyone sees Rao and Robin at their shitty high school dance, slow dancing to the cheesy song playing but that’s perfectly fine. Everyone sorta returns to their own devices when they remember you’re two teenagers who probably just want to experience a dance.

“Thank you.” You whisper to him as the night wraps up. Mariam and some dude who wasn’t her date were voted as the Winter Formal Royalty, despite them trying to give the crowns to the two of you. “This was fun. Very human.” You laugh at the last part, watching as kids get into their parent's car and head on home. You see Jon is waiting for Clark with Jay, he has a strict rule of not interacting with you when one of you is out of uniform. Something about being a horrible liar.

“It was my pleasure seeing you smile.” He says, settling on the railing of the steps. “I’m just sorry you couldn’t enjoy it normally.” He adds, his eyes flickering to the large S symbol on your chest and then to your masked face.

“Please,” You huff, sitting next to him. “We stopped a bomb. It was a… bad bomb, but still.”

“You’re still here!” Mariam gasps when she sees the two of you. She has her heels in one hand and her phone in the other so her date holds the door open for her. “Good! Here—here, take it!” She hands you her crown and the other crown. Apparently the king didn’t care for it and gave it to her. “Don’t say no, either.” She shakes the crowns for you to take and you laugh, grabbing the king's crown while Damian takes the queen.

“Okay, thank you.” The plastic crowns are but paper to you, so you take extra care not to break it.

“Put it on!” She urges, taking some steps back, and points her camera to the two of you. Robin looks at you and takes your crown from you, setting the crown on your head before putting his own. “Y’all are too cute!” She gushes and takes about ten pictures. You’re posing, of course, about three different poses and she’s hyping the two of you up beyond belief.

“I’ll send these to you, bye-bye!” She shouts, running down the stairs while her boyfriend gets in the car.

“Bye-bye!” You call back.

“Clarks here,” Robin nudges your hand and you see Jon get into the car.

“Break has officially started!” Someone shouts from the parking lot. “See yall mother fuckers next year!” You laugh, and float up, pulling Robin up with you. He latches on immediately, looking at you as you shoot into the air and over to Gotham. He’s a little more careful to make sure your crowns stay on than you are and he promises to keep it safe in Gotham. That honestly sounded like an oxymoron.

“What’re you doing for Christmas?” He asks as you take your masks off in the Batcave.

“Mrs. Kent invited us to the farm,” Throwing yourself into the chair, Damian sits on the table while taking his gloves off. “We’ll probably be there for the entire weekend. Unless there’s some emergency. You?”

“We typically do a small gift exchange and not much else.” He shrugs.

“Y'know…” You trail, pushing the chair closer to him. “Martha has been wanting to meet you.”

“She’s met me.” He says, fixing your hair into something that doesn’t make it obvious you had just been flying around.

“Yeah, but not as her grandson’s boyfriend.” He cups your face as you speak, staring at you with this soft gaze that makes you like putty in his hands.

“He’ll go,” Bruce says as he enters the cave. Damian grumbles and drops his hands to his side while you spin around to see him. He’s not in his Batman gear, though. Just his nightwear. “Clark invited all of us yesterday.”

“Fun!” You turn to Damian who’s not too happy about the fact he still has the spend the holiday with his siblings.

“My siblings are going to cause your grandmother to have a heart attack. I’d advise you to fool-proof the house.” He warns you, getting off of the computer and pulling you up from the chair.

“It’s Kryptonian proof. They can’t do much damage,” You call him a name he’s heard a bunch. It’s this word in Kryptonian but you won’t tell him what it means and he doesn’t know the language enough to piece it together. But he likes it. It just feels right.

“That’s what you think.”

But despite his warnings and swearing up and down about his family ruining the day, Christmas went smoothly. Save for the embarrassment of introducing your boyfriend to your family and such, of course. The gifts were wonderful, but what you loved the most was Damian’s recreation of your home, you hadn’t thought he’d remembered so much detail from when you talked about it but he was spot on. You’d gotten him a special sword, made of alien metal and carefully carved with his initials. He said it was too good to use, that something of that marksmanship should never see bloodshed. But his eyes sparkled when you pulled out a set of new charcoal and paints for him.

He spent the rest of the night drawing.

With Christmas wrapped up, the time for the New Year’s party rolled around. Of course, Bruce had formally invited the Kents to the gala that was being hosted at some fancy building in Gotham. You’d been all but attacked by Dick to get a matching suit with Damian. Not that you minded, of course.

“Your first public appearance as a couple, congrats.” Duke grins as he sees you standing next to Damian, the two of you fixing the final details of your suits. You peer up from your cufflinks and see he’s in a fancy yellow suit. He paired it with a soft blush pink undershirt and silver jewelry.

“Thanks,” You smile and check your sleeves. Still nicely pressed and the cuffs shine against the silky brown suit.

“Nervous?” He asks, stepping into the room as Damian hands you the dahlia brooch the two of you were going to wear. Damian knew more about flower symbolism than you, but you just knew the flower meant something about the two of you that he wholeheartedly agreed with.

“Far from it,” Damian responds, pinning his own brooch to his suit. He makes it look so damn easy, but that’s probably because he doesn’t need to worry about breaking the brooch. “Yellow clearly suits you.” He tells Duke who in turn, compliments Damian’s suit.

“Oh, you two did henna?” Duke asks, seeing your deep orange-stained hands. He’s too far away to see the exact details, but he knows henna when he sees it.

“His idea,” You grin, looking at the designs on your hands. “We still have to find our initials, though.” Your eyes flicker to where Amira’s mother had hidden the letter D on your hand.

“In private.” Damian adds, his hand finding reprise in your own. He doesn’t need to look at Duke for him to understand that Damian is telling him to leave and close the door. The clicks closed as he guides you to his bed. The two of you sit together and he looks first.

“These designs are lovely,” He utters, his fingers ghosting over your skin as if you were a delicate artifact he was trying so desperately to keep safe. There were a lot of small details, hardly any of your skin was showing and it just looked like a lace you’d wrapped around your hand. His eyes flicker from left to right, as if he’s reading words in a book trying to find the letter D somewhere in the henna.

He’s far from frustrated, though. He absolutely loves that you’d agreed to do this and even more so that you clearly didn’t half-ass in getting it done. You’d even let the henna sit for two hours extra, just in case your genes made the stain fade faster.

“Here,” He points to one of the curves along a flower, his finger tracing over the hidden D.

“That was fast,” You look up at him and he just can’t look away from your hand. You call him, using another Kryptonian pet name and he looks at you.

“I’m perceptive.” He hands you his hands and you gently take them.

You suppose you’re cheating, but your eyes are naturally gifted and you can zoom in. Even so, it does take you longer than him. You’re looking between his hands, almost stressing about finding out.

“There,” You point to your initial resting on his ring finger, right above the second knuckle. He smiles and nods and you pat yourself on the back. And then he says something— something that’s surely a promise. He says it in a way that’s clear he’s thought about it for so long that nothing is to change his mind about it and you stare at him with wide eyes and an even wider smile.

“It’ll be harder to find when we get married.”

—

The gala is nice. The two of you arrived after your families just two hours before midnight, hand in hand. Perhaps it was on purpose, but you’re holding the hand that has your initial and he’s holding the hand that has his. Maybe that’s his way of keeping it between the two of you; intimate.

There are a lot of people, as is expected with galas. A lot of rich old people, a bunch of shitty reporters trying to kiss ass to Clark and Lois, and their older children. No one under sixteen is ever allowed to gala’s, a rule that came into place when Jason was taken under Bruce’s wing. You were surprised to hear the rule wasn’t because of Dick, but apparently Dick didn’t attend enough gala’s for the rule to be needed.

It’s your first gala seeing you’ve always declined the offers to go but there wasn’t room to say no in this situation. But it’s calm. You were more nervous about your presentation than about this. You and Damian mingle together for around an hour and a half before you see Kara at the snack table and excuse yourself.

You’re talking to Kara about school and she’s talking to you about her job. It just sounds like a bunch of human adult stuff you’re probably going to have to do in five years and honestly? That sounds like hell. But she makes it sound fun.

“Mother.” Damian says from across the room. Your head snaps over to where he is and you see her. Holy shit. You should run. “What’re you doing here?” His head turns to find you in the crowd but you see that Thalia is already looking directly at you. At least she’s smiling, that’s good… right?

“His mothers here?” Kara whispers, having heard that too. She’s been big on meeting the woman who raised him, apparently hearing how Bruce and Damian talk about her isn’t enough for her never-ending curiosity.

“I’m gonna piss my pants!” You gasp, looking at her. “Oh my god, she’s gonna kill me. i— Kara!” Your eyes widen as she tugs you after her. She barely weaves past people and you have to awkwardly apologize to them and let this crazy woman drag you over to your boyfriend and his assassin mother.

“Hello, Ms. Al Ghul.” You gulp as Kara makes you stand between her and Damian.

“Ah, so this is your partner.” Thalia looks at her son and then at you. He’s not upset, but he’s cautious. He’s purposefully slowing his heart rate and you hear the subtle sounds of his joints moving. He’s ready to take you and run.

“Yes, this is my significant other, (Y/n).” He introduces you with a hand on your back. “And his aunt, Kara.”

“I’ve heard a lot about the boy who my son has fallen in love with.” She bluntly says and you don’t know if you should smile or hide. Neither of you has actually said the L word before.

“Mother…” He whispers and she tsks.

“What does he call you?” She asks you, ignoring her son's plea to stop taking.

“Uh…” You trail. “He says: ya albi; habibi, hobbi, and ya hayati. There’s some more but I can’t remember…” When you say them, she takes a deep breath in and turns to her son. He’s a little red but not from anger.

“And do you know what they mean?” She asks, her eyes flicker to you.

“No, ma’am.” You answer honestly and she grins. That’s where he gets it, oh my god.

“He’s professing his love for you. My love, my darling, love of my heart, and my life.” She explains.

“You call him the same things!” Kara points out, slapping your arm and Damian looks over, the embarrassment off of his face and now he’s confused.

“Kara…!” Your eyes widen as it’s your turn to be embarrassed.

“He calls you…” She waits for Damian to tell her the pet names and now you’re embarrassed that he’s repeating them. She doesn’t hide her excitement or her expressions like Thalia had and openly gushes. “The first one is: my only love. Then he says: my life and my reason.”

“Your reason?” He asks and you turn your face from him. If you weren’t surrounded by people, you would’ve flown away.

“Where we’re from, to have someone as your reason is the highest form of love. You’re living for someone, you’re devoting your life to them and their happiness.” You carefully explain and Kara nods, a hand over her heart as she gushes again.

“Let’s leave the boys to their devices and chat,” Thalia smiles at Kara who nods and loops her arms with the literal assassin.

“So…” You trail but the lights turn off and you hear the countdown start from one of the speakers around the room. Geeze, the night had gotten away from you.

“Shall we?” He asks, stepping in front of you. New Year's kiss. Okay, holy shit. This is. Okay, you got this. You hear them say three and you get ready, cupping his face in your hands. You figure this is the best time to say it. Hell, you both have practically been saying it for years now. Just now it’ll be in a language you both understand.

“I love you.” You whisper as everyone shouts Happy New Year around the two of you.

Kissing him, he holds you close and you’re sure you’re about ten seconds into the new year before he pulls back from the kiss.

“I love you, too.”

#x male reader #x reader #damian wayne x male reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x black reader #x black reader

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fallingskiesandrisingseas · 3 months

Text

The Peter Pevensie post did well.

Here's Edmund.

Edmund has trouble putting down his chess pieces that first time. In Narnia he could assume his opponent knew what he was doing, that chess was not just a game, that sacrificing pieces meant a unit, an officer, a collection of friends never seen again.

No one remembers that back in England, where chess is just a game, not a play preparing you for war.

He loses badly the first few times, too often distracted by thoughts of his dead friends. Thoughts of the ones alive, that he hopes to see soon.

Then he becomes unbeatable. When chess is about strategy again, no longer conjures images of men dying, sacrificed to gain a tactical advantage, Edmund becomes a master. Chess champion, of his region, of the country. Not a piece too many suffers.

It takes a few months. Those first ones in boarding school, Peter has to guard him. When bullies gang up on him for his strange way of talking (as if generals listen to his advice), strange way of walking (as if there is a weight on his hip), strange way of behaving (as if there are servants for his every need) Peter protects him. They've seen protective brothers; they've never seen anything quite like Peter, who hits until bone breaks.

Edmund will often remark on how the punches thrown his way lack technique, don't really hurt.

Everyone wonders how a 110 lb 11 year old kid knows anything about punching technique. He's a scrawny white boy from the city, doesn't look even slightly dangerous. How many fights has he been in, everyone wonders, to know what type of blow breaks bone, how to collect fingers into a fist.

When he is not protected by his brother, he displays the tricks he learned in treacherous courts in fantasy lands where the men could snap him in half with half a finger, where monsters ruled. Where only his silver tongue kept him safe.

It keeps bullies far away from him. They're not just afraid of physical repercussions, but of being expelled, reputations ruined, careers unreachable before they begin.

Peter retaliates either way, physical punishment along with the other repercussions. Still, it's strange to hear that the lanky sleepwalking teen mostly interested in political science knows anything about fighting, about blood.

By the third month in boarding school, Edmund has the staff wrapped around his finger.

His tongue is as silver as the lion ring he wears. Ed can talk any opponent into submisson. He can talk any girl into his bed, too, despite other men vying for their company. Sometimes he does it just to prove a point. It earns him a few more fights than he had to be in, but that's okay.

The ones stupid, angry or brave enough to physically fight him learn fast Edmund isn't easy prey, that he knows how to fight, how to think, how to outmanouvre you. Peter is a tornado, all fury, but Ed fights like a chess master. No wasted movement, no unnecessary punches, not moving a single inch more than he has to.

Fighting Peter hurts. People soon find that fighting Ed discourages. He doesn't really seem all that hurt by fighting, often quips when taking a fist to the gut. He can deal blows so nasty you feel the effects two weeks after.

The ones that fight him in groups, still willing to try, meet Peter's fists in a dark ally.

Still Edmund never needed Peter. Their bond is strange, sure, Peter copying his younger brothers' notes without remark, asking for his advice often and seriously.

But both know politics is Edmund's territory. At the start, no one messes with him due to his big brother, who always seems to hit harder than boys his age.

In time, Ed is feared more. Differently.

A fight with the oldest Pevensie brother ends in the infirmary, a fight with the youngest ends your career, ambition, prospects with the ladies.

Edmund knows what he can do. Knows his brother can do it too, but does not prefer it. He is known for his silver tongue, his brilliant mind. Peter, more so for his steel boots.

He plays chess, studies politics, does it right. Highest marks in his class, many extra-curriculars, a seemingly unbreakable bond with his sisters and brother, which he visits often everyone. No one can understand them when they are together, a strange lilt in their voices. Some people are little scared of him. He's a debate champion, talks rounds around anyone. Excellent chef, even though he only cooks for friends.

He's loyal to a fault, clever like the devil, and a perfect gentleman. In an archaic way. Ed is the kind of man to have a hankerchief in his pocket.

That's why no one unserious dates Susan or Lucy. They all know anything unserious ends badly.

Gradually, people start to like Edmund, even if they feared him at first. His smile is devilish, but also charming. Ed is free in his head, in his hands. Brilliant in many different ways, including fencing. There is a rumour in the halls, after a while. That Ed likes men too.

But no one talks.

Edmund goes into politics. He has a family that is in the top echolon of decison making, an analytical mind. Edmund has a talent for justice. In his presence, no one feels left out, everybody is heard. Many feel that with Ed as their PM they are finally represented. A noble man, even with his bloody knuckles, the unimpressive surname.

A statesman in everything. Fashion, vocabulary, manners.

But still he believes in Narnia, goes to see the spectre.

He is facing his brother in the train, happy, talking about Narnia when it crashes.

#narnia meta #narnia #edmund pevensie #edmund #the lion the witch and the wardrobe #prince caspian

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seeingivy · 9 months

Text

triple threat

actor!eren x f!reader

you get cast in the role of your dreams

**part of my method acting fic, masterlist here

content: hange + levi being in love, hange pronouns are written as they/she, you and eren embarassing yourself, some good old cheesy childhood dreams

an: welcome to the actor-verse :DDD

The first time you see that speech, it changes your life. You’re six and barely understand why the situation is such a big deal. That Hange Zoe is the first person, the first queer person, ever to receive the triple threat commendation from The Savants.

The Savants run the industry. From the biggest movies to theatre plays, they hand out shiny gold awards each year to the best of the best. But the triple threat, it’s unlike any of the other awards. It’s not given out at a set time or pushed out yearly like the others.

It’s at random times - some years, there are three triple threats, and others, there are none. It’s the highest award anyone can hope and dream of winning from the industry.

A triple threat is someone recognized for their work in the big three - singing, dancing, and acting. And each of those things can be taken loosely and mean different things to different actors.

For example, Hange Zoe’s co-star and partner, Levi Ackerman, received a triple threat commendation a few years ago. Acting in a Bond movie - his most famous stunt being a skilled walk on a tightrope, which the Savants considered dancing. And with one cameo in the Phantom of the Opera on an odd night when the actor was sick, he sang for three hours and was he was sold.

He became a triple threat three hours after.

And now, Hange Zoe, one of your favorite actors, did all three in their famous film, La La Land, with the same co-star. A beautifully crafted movie - about the highs and lows of the industry, of chasing a dream, of letting go of love to pursue it.

And here they are - tears streaming down their face as they stand to take the award. When they press a kiss on Levi’s cheek and take the stage, you remember the words solidifying, forming, and building in your chest.

To anyone watching at home, in their living room in their rundown pajamas, this is a sign to never ever give up on your dreams. Because that used to be me, and it can be you too. Never let anyone stop you from becoming the triple threat you are meant to be. To let that fire run wild and true and let people see the real you.

And you decide then and there - that it’s your dream to be a triple threat. To let your fire run wild and true. To show people the real you.

July 9th is the most nerve-wracking day in the history of nerve-wracking days. What was supposed to be a regular day at the coffee shop you work at suddenly became one of the most stressful experiences of your life.

WIT Studios, one of the biggest production companies, had sent out a casting call for actors aged 15-18 for a new, multi-season show. And when you accidentally knocked the flyer off the board at your aforementioned silly cafe job, it felt like a sign.

Some part of you, years ago, knocked your dream down. And it was a cumulation of things.

That you never really got called back for casting calls. You couldn’t book simple commercials, and agents said you didn’t have that spark.

And as many interviews you could watch of your favorite actors explaining how they got into the roles and connected with characters, the stupid kibble commercials you were trying to book just didn’t do that.

And you sing in the choir at your school and dance in school plays, but that’s hardly a triple threat category. You can’t even get the position to be head of the choir - to delude yourself into thinking you’re triple-threat material is insane.

So you let it go. And many people do because it’s just like every other silly childhood dream. You decided to stick with school, plan on attending college, and work a simple job. Stream the Savants every year, watch your favorite people sob over winning awards, and then embarrassingly go in the bathroom and practice a speech you won’t ever say.

Granted, that’s humiliating, but it’s better than getting kicked down each time. Because casting actors can be rude. And the entire industry is bleak - because there are only so many times that you can get shot down before throwing the towel in, which is very fast for you.

But the flyer seems right. And there’s no harm in trying after all these years. It’s for a real show, an action drama called Attack on Titan. The casting room - it’s down the street and you can go right after work.

But now that you’re here, awkwardly fidgeting in the cream chairs, you realize you’ve made the biggest mistake. Because the actors in the room - you know them.

Some of the biggest child actors that have been acting since they were kids, flipping through the same script as you. Practicing tongue twisters, taking deep breaths.

And you’re a fraud. Because you don’t know the short of hands or how any of this works. And when that red-haired woman calls your name, a dark green clipboard in her hand, you follow her into the room with a deep lump in your throat.

It’s a small holding room filled with four people. The red-haired woman and two other men sit at one long table, papers spread across the page. There’s a black camera in the center, glaring right into your line of vision from where you’re sitting.

“It’s a chemistry screening. This is Eren. He’s going to be playing the lead in the show. We’re just looking to fill the female co-star role. Just do the scene the way it feels right to you - there’s no correct way to act in this.”

You nod, switching your chair so you’re facing Eren. And then you take him in. He has short brown hair and almost bored green eyes as he takes a swig of his water bottle, his name scribbled in messy writing over the top. You can hear the recording camera beep, trying your best to ignore the fact that you’re on camera with him right now.

You reach forward, tapping on his shoulder with your pointer finger. And he looks up, green eyes timidly looking into yours. You give him the most sincere smile you can and introduce yourself.

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Eren. Eren Jaeger.”

Eren sticks his hand out to you, his grasp firm, as you both give each other a smile. And then you remember the lines. You stick your hand out, placing it on his shoulder as you squeeze. The action seems to take him off guard, his eyes widening as you start talking.

“We should be getting back.”

You watch the realization spread across his face as he timidly nods, rubbing his hand at the back of his neck. You guess your introduction might have thrown him off, and you should have told him you would start the scene now.

Dear god, you were already messing this up.

“What are we doing here, Y/N?”

You lean back in your chair, pressing your hands to the bridge of your nose, trying to remember the rest of the line.

“You were so deep asleep that you’re only half awake now?”

You watch Eren’s face contort into confusion and feel the embarrassment coursing through your veins. Did you remember the wrong line? Did you-

“I had a really long dream. I can’t remember what it was about or-”

And when you meet his eyes, the embarrassment dies down.

Because Eren’s crying.

There’s a soft tear running down the side of his eye, his lower lip quivering as he looks at you. And you can’t help but do it - you reach forward, pressing your hand to the side of his cheek as you wipe the tear away and ask.

“Eren. Why are you crying?”

You hear a clicking noise, and Eren leans back, wiping the rest of the tear on the back of his hand. You look back at the long table, the three adults scribbling on the papers before them.

Right. You were acting. Eren wasn’t really crying. He was just pretending to cry.

And you totally understand why he was cast as the lead because that crying was so believable that it got even you to take a second.

“We’ve seen enough. Thank you, Y/N. If you are selected, you will receive an email at the address you provided earlier.”

You give them all an awkward smile as you turn to your right, where Eren’s shuffling through the pages. You tap him on the shoulder again.

“See you later, Eren.”

“Yeah. I think so, Y/N.”

And when he breaks out into a smile, so warm with dimples showing, you can’t help but fully cheese back. And when you breeze out of the hallway, you pretend the entire thing never happened because there’s no way you’ll ever book that role, with an on-demand actor, like Eren in the first place.

You’re wrong. You’re so so wrong. You’re not sure how it happened, but you book the role. And the turnaround is so fast that you’re packing up your things to move to Germany in less than a week.

Your parents - infinitely supportive of your dreams, who were adamant you shouldn't give up on it - were driving you to the airport. And your little brother, Falco, cries softly when you sign him goodbye.

And when you’re on the plane, it all sits in that you’re moving away from home. That you’re acting. That you could… really be a triple threat. And it’s silly to say when you’re only fifteen but it feels that way.

That this could happen and that it’s real.

You skim the email they sent you again, reviewing the details you have already committed to memory. You’ve read them over a hundred times, and they still haven’t set in.

Dear Y/N, Congratulations on being selected to play the role of Y/N L/N! We’re so excited to have you on the team. Attack on Titan shooting will occur in Nördlingen, Germany, from August to February. Please arrive on set as soon as possible - so promotional images can be taken of you and your co-star and preliminary screen tests can be filmed. You will be living on-set with other members of the cast. Townhouses and assignments will be given upon arrival. Currently, only a small percentage of the ensemble has been cast - others will arrive as they are needed. A large part of the ensemble will be around your age range. In the interests of your personal character development (and following some very legal laws), classes will be provided off days from set so that you are a functioning member of society and all that. Attached is the script for the pilot. Please review your lines in the upcoming days. Congratulations, once again! Signed, Hange Zoe

Hange. Fucking. Zoe. As if any part of this experience couldn’t get crazier, you’re literally acting on a show with your fucking idols.

Some part of you already rues the day that this is going to end. Because you already know it’s going to be everything you wanted.

When you arrive at the townhouse, no one is there. You drag your four bags up the stairs and take note of all the names on each of the doors. It seems that more people are cast in the week it took you to get here because there are some names you don’t recognize on the assignments.

Reiner and Bertholdt

Miche and Erwin

Jean and Marco

Eren and Armin

Mikasa and Y/N

Mikasa. You remember a few of her lines from the script and from your understanding - the show is centered around you, Eren, Mikasa, and Armin. Armin and Eren’s rooms are directly across from yours and Mikasa’s, which you’re sure was on purpose.

After hauling your bags up, taking a shower, and hauling out your beloved noise-canceling headphones, you drag down to the kitchen, where you attempt to find some food.

The kitchen has very little - a few loose packets of ramen on the counter, eggs, and condiments. You settle for making ramen, one of the few meals you can successfully make (because it requires two steps), and set out.

After successfully making your dinner, you drop it the second you turn around.

Because Eren’s staring at you, a glass of water in his hand.

And you figure that your dropping the bowl startles him because he drops his glass too, and you’re both awkwardly staring at each other, rambling explanations as you yank your headphones off and take note of the glass on the floor.

“Eren! I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were here and-”

“Y/N. Are you okay? We just got back. I didn’t mean to startle you or-”

“You shouldn’t move, Eren. There’s a bunch of glass everywhere and-”

Other footsteps cut you off, and you’ve officially entered your worst nightmare. Because not only did you just humiliate yourself in front of your co-star, but now Levi and Hange are standing in front of you - laughing at you.

Well, Levi’s smoldering, but Hange’s literally cracking up so hard that they're crying tears out of their eyes. Levi walks up to Eren while Hange takes your side, dragging you both to the sides away from the glass.

Levi’s scolding Eren as he starts cleaning the glass, both of you shamefully standing against the wall.

“Good going, Eren. If she didn’t hate you before, she totally does now.” Levi states.

You look over to find Eren blushing - his cheeks beet red and the tips of his ears burning.

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Hange.”

“I’m Levi. We hope you got in okay. We just took Eren to the store to get more things for the house.”

“You two should go wash your hands. We’ll make more ramen and call you when we’re done, okay?”

“Okay, Hange. I’ll show you the way, Y/N.”

You follow Eren as you both awkwardly walk to the bathroom.

“God. That was so embarrassing. I’m so sorry, Eren.”

“It’s not your fault. After you didn’t respond three times, I should have noticed they were noise canceling.”

“You were talking?”

“Ah yeah. You were singing, so I asked if you had been doing it for a while.”

When you reach the bathroom, you can’t help but put your face in your hands as if that would stop your cheeks from burning the way they were.

This is literally the worst start ever. You broke an entire bowl of food in front of Eren, and then Hange and Levi had to scold you guys like you were little kids and clean it up for you.

When you and Eren return to the table, Hange and Levi make you fresh bowls of ramen and set them out for you directly across from them. You don’t miss how their hands are locked together on the table and how… romantic it seems - even if Levi’s literally insulting Hange right now.

“I know they wrote the character to be a little dirty, but that doesn’t mean you need to start doing method acting, Hange.”

You interrupt their conversation as you and Eren slide into the chair, their faces quirking toward yours.

“Um. Do you mind me asking what method acting is, Levi? I don’t really know all of this…acting stuff.”

“That’s right. I'm sorry, Y/N.” responds Levi, pushing his bowl into the center of the table.

“Method acting is our secret. It’s how we…act so well. Not to pat ourselves on the back or anything, but we’re pretty decent.”

“Better than decent, you’re both… triple threats,” you respond, shocked at the fact that they’re downplaying something like this.

Surely they can’t be serious.

“Method acting, young Y/N, is a technique we use to connect with our characters emotionally. We already think you’re a good fit for the character you’ve been cast, but you still have to put in the work to “be” that character. Bring your own life and personality into it - even if you’re not playing you.” Hange responds.

“When Hange and I did La La Land, we played two lovers. I was a jazz artist, and she was an actress. While we were filming, Hange and I went on dates each week to get to know each other, and I wrote her songs to get into the mood of filming.”

You can hear Eren’s chopsticks clinking against his bowl as he speaks next, his voice firm.

“But you… you’re dating now. How do you know the line between fake and real?” Eren asks.

“You’ll learn quickly that trying not to love Hange is like holding your breath underwater. You just can’t.”

Hange starts pinching Levi’s cheeks and cooing over him, which Levi swats off before they respond again.

“Acting isn’t…fake, Eren. Like I said, this character - it should be all parts you, your own personality, just in this situation. And we’re not telling you to fall in love like your characters are going to but-”

“Wait. Our characters are going to fall in love?”

“Indeed they are, Y/N. The way it’s written - some part of them has always been in love. Like it’s natural that they don’t know how to do anything else, but you’re best friends for a better part of the show. The romance only really comes to fruition at the end.” Levi responds, standing up as he grabs the bowls before you.

You and Eren give each other a look as Hange peers over, smiling between the two of you.

“So if you and Levi went on dates for La La Land because you were lovers, Eren and I should… hang out to be best friends?” you ask.

Hange laughs, standing up to crush both you and Eren in a hug.

“God, you’re both so cute. I think you’ll end up being good friends anyways - you have lots of scenes together and press and all that, so-”

“No, Hange. I want us to be the best.” Eren states.

You can feel your cheeks burning - at Eren referring to the two of you as “us” - at how he wants the same thing as you, and at how Hange’s smirking at the two of you.

“God. You’re like the perfect kid for this role. Keep that energy when you film the pilot.”

You and Eren amble back up to your rooms as Hange and Levi start attending meetings, preparing for filming. They tell you that you’re filming one scene tomorrow - the one you and Eren screen tested on - and then getting fitted for costumes and harnesses for stunts.

Levi and Hange are producing the show alongside Erwin - one of the other actors on the show. They all attended SHWA together back in the day, basically the best acting academy out there, and now they’re producing and helping the writing of the show altogether.

SHWA is so elite that every single Savant acting winner has attended the academy. There has yet to be a non-SHWA-affiliated actor to win.

But even beyond acting, they’re producing and screenwriting. Just when you think they can’t get cooler, they do.

Eren knocks on your door a little past eleven, shyly peeking into your doorway.

“Hi, Eren.”

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Can we talk?”

“Sure.”

You both plop down onto your bed, staring at the silver fan swinging around on the ceiling.

“I know that, uh. Hange said we would become best friends anyways, but we should really be best friends like you said - like hanging out, trusting each other, and all that.”

“Okay, Eren. Sure.”

“I really want us to be the best, and Levi’s been saying this show is special, and we can use it to… make our dreams come true.”

You turn to your side, resting your hands against your elbow as he mimics your motions.

“Do you have a dream, Eren?”

“Promise not to tell anyone?”

“Hey. We’re best friends. There’s no one to tell but you.”

He smiles, his cheeks turning pink again as he responds, his shoulders relaxing.

“I really want to get a Savant Award for acting. Best Actor in a Lead Role. It’s been my dream since I was a kid.”

You smile, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder as you respond.

“Eren. You’re totally going to see your dream come true. You’re already so in touch with your emotions, I was floored when you started crying during the screen test.”

He’s blushing even harder at the praise, so ashamed that he’s flipped back towards the ceiling, watching the fan spin around again.

“Do you have a dream, Y/N?”

“Yeah. I, um. Want to be a triple threat.”

You whisper it into the air like a bad omen.

Because telling your parents and your little brother is one thing - some part of them has to support you regardless because you’re family.

But telling someone like Eren, someone who doesn’t know anything about you, feels like… you’re bearing your soul to him or something.

“You could totally be a triple threat. You already have experience in singing and dancing.”

“Yeah, but my school choir and plays don’t really count. Triple threats are…next level and I-”

He reaches down, locking his fingers with yours, which triggers some kind of anticipation in you because you’re holding your breath. Clenching your stomach. Drinking in the words he’s saying.

“You’re next level. When your dream comes true, I’ll be right beside you. Telling you that I told you so.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah, Y/N. We’re best friends. It’s you and me till the end. We’ll be laughing about this when it happens to us."

You’re both smiling up at the ceiling, the anticipation, hopes, and dreams you’ve held onto for so long burning in your chest because they’re right on your doorstep.

“Eren.”

“Hm, Y/N?”

“How did you know that I’ve sung and danced before?”

He winces, quietly whispering into the air.

“I googled you after the screen test. I had a feeling it was going to be you.”

You both turn your heads to smile at each other, this night marking the start of your shared dream.

You agree. You and Eren. Till the end.

You film the screen test scene the next day. And when you wipe Eren’s tear off his face again, and the director cuts, Hange and Levi are smiling sunshine at you, the former shitting bricks at the sight of the two of you.

And when Hange runs around set, praising two upcoming Savants, you and Eren can’t help but fist bump behind your backs, smiling sunshine at each other like Levi and Hange were too.

You’re both going to go down in history.

next part linked here

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pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3

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satuguro · 1 year

Text

✧*ೃ࿐ TONGUES & TEETH

[ ACT I: THE GLOW ]

xavier thorpe x valkyrie! reader

#SYNOPSIS— xavier’s attracted to intimidating women, you and wednesday bond over murder methods, and you really need to stop being attracted to trouble.

#CONTAINS— enemies to fwb to lovers, academic rivals, intimidating and flawed reader, gore, blood, death, aged up characters (everyone is 18 except for eugene), sexual content (later on)

#AUTHORSNOTE— spontaneously writing an xavier thorpe fanfic was honestly not on my mind but oh well here it is ! feel free to send me asks/requests about this series or for other wednesday characters

ACT I, ACT II, ACT III, ACT IV, ACT V, ACT VI

a valkyrie was not a mere label. it was a highly respected role, one that was not granted to simply because you were a child of odin. no, the position of a valkyrie was an important one, because every warrior who died in battle, every fighter’s soul, relied on you to bring them to valhalla — no matter what that was for them. heaven, hell, reincarnation — you and your sisters brought them there.

nevermore was seemingly the only available place in which you could reside. you were the youngest of the ten valkyrie sisters, the only one born into the 21st century (as the rest of them were much too old for you to count). odin tried to put his youngest daughter into every school imaginable; public school, private school, boarding school, juvenile detention.

all brought out the same results. you found the material easy and the lack of competition boring, or you were found beating some kid into the ground, your knuckles bloody as adults pried you off of them.

granted, every person you have ever thrown a punch at was deserving of it. but it’s not like the police care about the kid with a broken leg; they care about the person who carelessly broke it with their bare hands.

that was why you found yourself in nevermore, standing awkwardly next to your nine sisters as you loosened your tie around your neck.

the other students didn’t care to hide their stares, their whispers loud and very audible to you as you looked at every single one of them.

“don’t loosen your tie, y/n,” your eldest sister, brunhilde, said with a small look, her arms crossed as she stood towering above the rest of the passing students. “you must look presentable.”

“since when did you ever care about looking presentable?” you replied with a scoff, using one finger to loosen the black tie incompletely. you heard your second youngest sister, gunnr, snicker at that, her laughter quickly hindered by a glare from another one of your sisters.

“ever since father decided to send us to take you here rather than himself,” brunhilde snapped, bitterness evident in her tone as she clenched her jaw. her emerald green eyes flashed in anger; the fact that her father decided not to show up to something like this yet again wasn’t surprising, but it still annoyed her nonetheless.

“he was busy,” eir, the second eldest valkyrie, murmured, coming in yet again as the peacemaker. “besides— this isn’t exactly father’s scene. too many children.”

their conversation melted into the background as your eyes drifted around the courtyard. there seemed to be little cliques within the school — gorgons, vampires, werewolves, sirens, psychics — how cliche. your eyes however, landed on one boy that was painting a raven on the wall, his eyes already set on you far before you noticed him.

his long hair was tied back, his hazel eyes boring into yours as he stopped painting, his hand falling to his side. he was studying you, observing your purposely loosened tie, the sword necklace that hung around your neck, the dagger strapped to your side, and the nine buff women who stood around you. they looked nothing like you, but their energy was strong. powerful. unwavering.

you didn’t break eye contact with him, your eyes narrowing as you challenged him to look away first.

“y/n odinsdottir." a tall woman who practically screamed elegance interrupted your staring contest, forcing you to look away first. her hair was perfectly pinned up, and her cherry red lips curled into a smile as she looked at you. "welcome to nevermore. i assume these are your sisters?" she questioned, looking at your siblings with a warm smile.

"we won't be here long," brunhilde stated, stepping forward. she seemed to be about the same height as the woman, which seemed to please her greatly. she held out a calloused hand. "brunhilde. you're the principal, correct?"

"yes - larissa weems." principal weems' smile never broke as she shook your sister's hand. wordlessly, she began to lead the ten of you to her office. "i have made living arrangements for y/n - i hope she does well with roommates. one of her other roommates is a new student as well."

this new school was, frankly, a lot fancier than most of the schools you had gone to. it looked old, with too many ghosts and history hidden in its walls, but while the school stood out more than the rest, the people seemed to be all the same. prudes with enough money to have the world in their hands. teenagers who have never been told 'no' in their lives. cockiness and pride seemed to ooze from every crevice.

in a way, you found it amusing.

"it was honestly quite a surprise to find all of you here rather than your father," principal weems commented as she opened the door to her office, "i believe that he had told me that he would arrive." she situated herself into her chair behind her desk, placing her hands on the table and clasping them.

you stood in front of the desk, rolling your eyes at her comment. "he likes to lie," you stated bluntly, ignoring the glare eir sent to you as she offered principal an apologetic smile.

"what y/n means to say is," eir began, absentmindedly toying with one of her long golden braids, "our father is very busy. he has other business to attend to."

"he likes doing business." you continued, "especially on his bed."

one of your older sisters, skuld, hissed a small "y/n," as a warning for your words, making you huff in annoyance.

eir's smile was unwavering and her politeness was undeterred as she laughed lightly, "i apologize for y/n's words. she often.. lacks a filter."

"it's no problem, i assure you." principal weems' smile grew as she looked at you, "she's in very capable hands. later, she will receive a tour from one of her roommates, enid sinclair. she's very approachable; i'm sure they will get along."

that statement made your mask fall for just a second.

friends and lovers were topics that were often unspoken between you and your sisters. to put it frankly, it was hard for valkyries to truly find themselves friends with others or loving another because of something you called 'the glow.' valkyries, being a guide for souls in battle, had the ability to know when someone's death was near. it often appeared as a golden glow around the individual moments before a battle or before a specific moment. to help was to lose your position as a valkyrie. to lose your father's acceptance and appreciation of you. it was the foundation of your position, your one important duty to guide the souls of warriors, but there had been instances where the glow appeared for those you cared for. friends. lovers.

it had happened too many times to your sisters. they had all lost lovers and friends in battle, and had to be the one to guide their souls and leave them for eternity. but there came a moment in time where they all decided to stop caring so much for others. they focused on each other, protecting their own sisters out of fear of caring and losing another.

and when you were born, they warned you of that same fate. they warned you of how hard it was to sense death, to be a symbol of war and death. so to say that you would get along with another and care for them was hard to fathom, because your mind automatically thought of losing them in an instant.

and if you lost them and were not able to guide them, you wouldn't know what to do with yourself.

"i will say that your record is.. only mildly concerning, y/n," principal weems said as she pulled out your folder. she scanned through the pages, licking her finger as she turned and read every offense and crime that ended with you getting kicked out of a school. "you've sent tons of people to the hospital for horrible injuries," she murmured, and you swallowed, mentally preparing yourself to hear the list. "you've broken the limbs of many, gave concussions to many more, and in one instance dropped a teenage boy from a thousand feet above ground."

"all deserved. i hold no remorse for them," you stated, a proud smirk making its way onto your face.

principal weems' brows furrowed as she reached the last page in the folder, the words 'saving grace orphanage' in large letters at the top of the form. "kicked out of nearly 20 homes in the span of 13 years."

your smirk fell, your eyes turning cold as you glared at the principal. next to you, gunnr shifted uncomfortably, her hands clenching and unclenching in the instance she had to hold you back from landing a hand on your principal. "how did you get those?"

"nevermore requires all documents from students," principal weems read down the paper, her look of discontent and worry seemingly growing with every line, "even those that have been terminated." one line specifically caught her eye.

has been found at one location consistently. the owner of the property has claimed that there is no reason for y/n to be there, but she seems to be connected to it. if not found at her foster home, she is most likely found here.

how was it you were only here for a few hours and you now wanted to strangle your principal?

"they have been terminated for a reason," you seethed, "my sisters had them forgotten."

"for very good reasons," brunhilde added, her voice eerily calm as she rolled her shoulders back, fixing her posture. "that's private information only our family knows."

"of course." principal weems shut the folder abruptly, the warm smile (though it was nothing more than plastic to you) returning to her red lips. "shall we bring you to your room?"

"i didn't know that valkyries could be as young as you."

you raised a brow at one of your roommates, wednesday, her deadpan tone doing little to influence you as you shrugged. "i'm the youngest of the ten," you stated, walking alongside her as you followed your other roommate, enid sinclair, around.

"that sounds like torture. of the worst degree," wednesday said, making enid clear her throat to catch your attention.

truthfully, enid was much more extraverted than you would ever be, but you didn't mind. she talked, you and wednesday listened - it was a good system. and she talked a lot. the fact that she was bringing around nevermore's first valkyrie was something she seemed incredibly happy about.

good for her.

"i already gave wednesday the whole rundown!" enid said with a contagiously bright smile. "this is the courtyard. everyone kind of hang out around here between classes or just.. whenever!" she explained, practically bouncing with every step as she brought you around. "there's a lot of cliques here; vampires, werewolves - like me, gorgons," her eyes landed on a few people around the fountain, her smile faltering for just a moment, "sirens, psychics, the usual."

"did you kill someone in your last school?" wednesday asked, making enid gasp.

"wednesday! i thought we would bring it up later!" enid scolded, frowning as she nudged the dreary girl.

"i was impatient." wednesday's face contorted into one of slight discontent at the nudge, though she (surprisingly) didn't complain.

you however, merely shrugged in response, folding your arms over your chest. "not the one at my last one. i just broke his legs - why?"

"because rumors spread like wildfire at nevermore," enid explained, coming to a stop in the middle of the corridor, much to some students' chagrin "practically everyone's talking about it! i told you that they'd forget about what you did, wednesday," she said pointedly, making wednesday blink, which was frankly a rather large reaction.

you looked at wednesday, eyebrows raising in curiosity. "did you kill someone?"

"two people. not one."

"what was your method?"

"piranhas from my aquarium at home. and you?"

you hummed in appreciation at her method before responding with a curt, "flew up and dropped him from a thousand feet." it made wednesday nod once.

"impressive."

"okay, steering the subject away from death and murder," enid interrupted, awkwardly chuckling as she continued to walk. she came to a stop in front of the boy who had been painting the raven, her smile of relief much too obvious to go unnoticed by you. "xavier! you've made such good progress!"

"thanks, enid." the boy - xavier - turned around, his mouth seemingly going dry when he saw you staring at him. your arms were crossed over your chest, your head tilted up to observe his painting. "you're the one who dropped the guy."

your look of curiosity turned into one of annoyance, your eyebrow raising as your eyes snapped towards him. "what about it?" you challenged, and you heard enid laugh awkwardly yet again.

"nothing. just asking, that's all," a hint of a smirk made its way onto his face, his hand - the one with paint on it - coming out towards you. "xavier thorpe."

"if you think that i'm going to shake your messy hand, you must believe i'm an idiot," you said bluntly, eyes narrowing.

"both an idiot and impolite," xavier responded, and end immediately grabbed you as you tried to take a step towards him, turning you around and briskly walking you the other way.

you didn't want to see him again after your first encounter with him. you didn't like smug people who had nothing to be smug about - the competitiveness in you wasn't cut out for any of that.

it did come in handy however, for academics.

while it wasn’t as fun as war or training was, it gave you enough competition to feel satisfied in victory. public schools were far too easy in your opinion, private schools equally as easy with more prudish people, but nevermore was more interesting. everyone was smarter, weirder, and more witty than any normie— it kept you entertained.

for the past week, you had been dead set on being the best at every class you had. macabre literature, arithmetic, botany, anatomy - you kept yourself busy trying to make a lasting impact on the professors.

you walked into the art class, eyes widening at its size. huge windows allowed for tons of sunlight to shine in, but since it was a gloomy day (or “a wonderful day” by wednesday’s standards), you could only see the condensation and fog on the windows. on one side of the room was sculpture and pottery supplies, while the other had painting and drawing easels set up in a circle with space in the middle for posing.

principal weems wanted you to do something that didn’t include fighting, weapons, or punching, you were going to join wednesday in fencing, but you found yourself here instead.

the class was small and the teacher was as careless as ever, muttering something about how artists must choose their own paths when creating art. but as you walked in and looked at the few faces, your face soured when you realized who you had to sit next to.

“thorpe.” you stated coldly, sitting stiffly in the easel next to him. it was almost funny how out of place you looked, sitting with straight posture on the stool and staring up at the large canvas in front of you.

xavier however, looked as relaxed as ever. he smiled at you lazily as he looked up from his sketchbook. “y/n. how nice of you to grace me with your presence.”

“it wasn’t my choice — weems wanted me to do something.. nonviolent.” you picked up the piece of charcoal in front of you, lips turning down to a slight frown. you hadn’t drawn in forever.

“i heard you tried for fencing,” xavier hummed, watching you pick up art supplies and weigh them in your hand. “you know that fencing doesn't include actual stabbing, right?”

“i do know that, thorpe,” you grumbled, avoiding eye contact as you removed your blazer, leaving only your white button up and messy tie. you rolled up your sleeves, oblivious to the way xavier’s eyes slowly went to your arms.

you were strong.

he had always guessed it — he had gotten stoned with ajax the night prior and they spent the next hour searching up how strong every outcast really was. valkyries, xavier learned, had superhuman strength, agility, stamina, and fighting abilities, so he wasn’t sure why he was so shocked to see your toned arms.

there was a tattoo of a sword on your inner forearm. it was so intricately drawn that he found himself staring at it for a little too long, simply admiring the style. admiring the way it decorated your skin.

"it's stupid how there's no actual stabbing in it," you continued, absentmindedly rolling up your sleeves. you side-eyed xavier, eyes uninterested as you watched the way he stared at your tattoo. "weirdo," you muttered, standing up abruptly and breaking his trance. “i’m going to do sculpting.”

xavier snorted, covering his gawking with his usual confidence as he fixed himself on his stool, spreading his legs just a bit. "since when did you sculpt?" he asked, half disinterested and half curious as he watched you shrug.

"one of my foster parents had a pottery studio." you stared at him blankly, a pause of awkward silence encompassing you before you said a curt, "bye," and left xavier at his easel.

xavier pulled his attention back to his sketchbook, eyes burning holes into his page of a certain pigtailed girl. for an hour he sat there, drawing in his visions on his sketchbook; many of which were of wednesday.

but one page in particular made him stop and stare. in his trance, much too focused on the feeling of his charcoal pencil on paper to care for what he was truly drawing, he had drawn what seemed to be an angel. it flew in the darkness of the page, her arms outstretched and its wingspan wide as she looked up at the top of the page. her hand was holding an invisible hand, but he saw the detail he put into the bandages that adorned her arms and knuckles.

hesitantly, xavier put his hand over the page, watching as the drawing began to move. the angel's arm moved ever so slightly, and his heart thumped loud in his chest when he saw your tattoo on your forearm.

subtly, he looked up through his eyelashes towards where you had been working, his mouth running dry as he watched you start to center your clay on the pottery wheel. you were surrounded by bowls, mugs, and plates of all kinds, being a rather quick worker with a delicate hand for someone who loved to fight. xavier watched you shape the clay in your hands, the substance molding easily as you moved it.

the sight of your eyes snapping up to meet his made him hide his enamor with a lazy smile and an awkward wave, which made you scoff and return to your pottery. but his eyes lingered on you, focused on the way your elbows were on your legs, how you were hunched over and how your arms were messy with clay. how your hair was much messier than when the class started. how your jaw was clenched in concentration, your eyes like a hawk's as you stared at the mug you were creating.

quickly, xavier looked back at his sketched, eyes set on the drawing he had done of you. it was such a specific image; how odd.

on your first friday in nevermore, enid had dragged you along with her to the harvest festival fair, saying something along the lines of "we have to ride every ride there!" that made you reluctantly agree to go. in any other circumstance, you would have opted to stay home and do anything but go out, but enid was enid, and she had no idea when to quit.

thing - wednesday's little hand friend - also contributed to getting you up and ready for the carnival. he was pretty persuasive.

which was how you found yourself awkwardly standing next to a carnival game after enid ran off with ajax, a boy she very obviously liked. it was confusing how people could be so blind to things like that.

the tight black long sleeve you wore was, in your opinion, enough to keep yourself warm as your body generated more body heat than many others. frankly, you looked pretty grumpy standing next to a carnival game you had already won, one of your hands holding a medium sized teddy bear that you (reluctantly) accepted. if it weren't for the fact that all the games were rigged, then you would have gotten the largest one.

"what happened to enid?"

you groaned as you turned towards the voice, finding xavier standing behind you, his hands in his pockets and his hair down. he was dressed in casual clothing, same as you, but you could recognize that subtle smug attitude anywhere. it was as if the smirk he wore could never get run down.

"went off with ajax. probably on a rollercoaster." you looked him up and down with a discontented look. "why are you alone?"

"i came here with ajax and rowan." xavier shrugged, leaning against the carnival table. a toothy grin crept onto his face, his tone teasing as he continued, "are you willing to keep me company?"

"no."

xavier rolled his eyes at your constant grumpiness, shrugging his shoulders as he quickly changed the subject. "i lost them both a while ago. i've just been walking and looking for.." his eyes left you, landing on some people behind you.

you looked back, immediately connecting the dots as you watched wednesday stand next to a guy near a ride, wednesday (surprisingly) contributing to conversation as they paid you and xavier no mind. an amused smile came on your face, and you held back the laugh you were about to let out. "oh my gods, you like wednesday."

xavier frowned, looking at you incredulously. "i don't," he denied. you watched his body movements with a smirk, observing how he fixed his posture and puffed his chest up ever so slightly out of defense.

"i'm not stupid, thorpe. you just gawked at her like a lovesick fool," you snorted, crossing your arms over your chest again.

xavier found himself staring at your arms, the muscles you had worked hard for easily shown off in your black long sleeve.

"if only you weren't so annoying," he muttered under his breath, sighing. "i don't like her," xavier repeated, following your actions and crossing his arms. he looked at you annoyedly, the amusement that danced in your eyes only pissing him off further. "i think she's interesting, that's all."

"denial is always the first step," you sing songed, your smirk turning into a cheshire like grin. "honestly, you should've seen the look on your face."

xavier scoffed. "what look?"

"the look you always have when wednesday walks by." you were laughing now, your careless teasing and prodding making his presence all the more tolerable in your opinion. "like a lovesick puppy. it's kind of pathetic, honestly - like, haven't you barely talked to her.." your words died out as your eyes caught sight of something you didn't expect to see within your first week in nevermore.

the glow.

you saw the shining gold before you saw who it surrounded. it was blindingly bright particles that floated and emitted a bright light that only you could see. all your senses were honed in on him, far too focused on the soul you had to guide to notice that he was following wednesday, who had trailed off moments prior.

your eyes widened when you saw rowan walk by, the golden glow surrounding him making your eyes cloud over in white. your irises and pupils disappeared into nothing, leaving your eyes a milky white. you felt that familiar tug in your chest, the one that brought nothing but dread and danger, and the immediate pain of loss. the glow that surrounded him was shining horribly bright; his death was really close.

"y/n? hello?" xavier followed your view, a snicker leaving his lips. "oh, i see." he watched as rowan's walk turned into a run into the nearby woods; right after wednesday. "i didn't know your eyes did that when you saw someone you like, y/n -"

"can you shut up, thorpe?" you snapped, shoving the bear towards him before turning around and walking away. your walk turned into a run as you followed rowan, knowing fully well that your agility would make you easily catch up with him. but as with the glow, your mind was only focused on him. nothing else mattered in that moment except for the fact that rowan laslow was going to die.

the sound of a roar made your hold your hand out, your tattoo of a sword glowing and making your sword materialize. on your back, hidden under the confines of your shirt, your tattoo of wings began to glow. that too, began to materialize, your wings writhing and stretching as it ripped through your shirt and spread out around you. pure white feathers flapped a few times, accustoming itself to the space, before you began to lift off the ground.

you flew towards the sound of the roaring, dodging trees and bushes before you saw a large monster over rowan, its claws digging into his chest. wednesday hunched over, catching her breath not too far away, and with no hesitation you flew faster and kicked the monster away from rowan. it let out another screech, one of pain this time, but you couldn't have cared less for its ugly form, for you were too focused on the dying boy on the ground.

the glow never lied. you saw his soul appear next to his body, merely a blue transparent silhouette in your eyes. you swallowed thickly, the pain of such a young soul being lost weighing heavy in your heart as you held your free hand out.

wordlessly, he accepted it. his hand was ice cold against your live one, and with that, you flew. you flew up thousands of feet, moving fast as your wings forced you up higher, higher, higher.

you broke through the clouds, breath heaving as you looked at the silhouette of rowan. the one that used to be alive, with a beating heart and living thoughts.

"there's a light," rowan murmured, his eyes set on the blinding light only he could see. but you saw nothing but the stars and the moon.

you only smiled sadly. "that will take you to where you need to go."

your job was a hard one. you brought them to the entrance of their death and allowed them to go there themselves and be there for eternity. there was no satisfaction from it, other than the fact that they weren't lost. they knew where they had to be.

you felt his silhouette disappear, the hand you were once holding now disappearing into nothing. your eyes reverted back to normal, and you looked around you at the emptiness around you. you were left with only the pain of losing another human.

you let out a sharp exhale, forcing yourself to think of anything but the soul you had just guided to the heavens, before flying back down to the woods. that was one of the hardest parts of your job; you felt the pain of them leaving. you understood that they would be missed, that they had an entire family and friends that would continue to miss them. you felt that pain from the moment you held his hand to fly him to the heavens, to the second he left.

the sound of flapping wings made wednesday look up from where she stood. she had been staring at the drawing rowan had kept in his pocket before your arrival, in which she quickly pocketed it and turned to you. your chest was heaving slightly, your arm bleeding from a twig that had seemingly gotten in your way during your flight between the trees. your wings folded behind you, and you opted to keep them out for as long as possible; it was hard to have them confined for long periods of time.

"did you guide him to valhalla?" wednesday asked, her tone as dead pan as ever, as if the fact that you had huge angel wings was the least of her troubles (which, in that moment, probably was). she was out of breath as well, her once perfect pigtails now a frizzy mess upon her head.

"i guided him to the entrance of whatever he believes in," you replied, looking down at his body and swallowing thickly. to change your focus, you glanced at wednesday, "your lack of response to a near death experience is admirable," you stated, making her nod curtly.

"truthfully, it was the most fun i have had all week," wednesday replied.

ACT II, ACT III, ACT IV, ACT V, ACT VI

#AUTHORSNOTE— that was the first part of my new series! feel free to send me asks about it and ask to be on the taglist! thank you sm for reading :)

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whereonceiwasfire · 4 months

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Look. Look. I am as invested as the next person in a nuanced, well-developed exploration of the fractured relationship between the college trio, but I contain multitudes, and also just really need more AUs in my life where Maddie actually knows Vlad is now a ghost loser simp intent on getting Jack out of the picture and plans on ctrl-v-ing himself in his ex-best-friend's place like a badly photoshopped family picture, because I think this has the potential to be absolutely HILARIOUS.

Neither of them tells Jack because Maddie can't bear to break her husband's heart by revealing the truth about their long-lost friend, and Vlad won't tell him because, on top of the obvious reasons, Jack also keeps inviting Vlad to stuff. Family dinner? Danny's school events? Camping trips? It's remarkably convenient as it puts him in a great position to play Uncle Vlad until he can successfully enact his bonkers plan.

Except now, in addition to Danny knowing Vlad is up to no good and being very much not on board with the Fruitloop's whole shtick, Maddie's in the same boat too. But Maddie and Danny are keeping this info from each other because she still doesn't/can't know her son is Phantom and if Danny outs Vlad, Vlad will turn around and spill his little secret too. And for Maddie's part, she probably just doesn't want her son knowing that Vlad is a ghost. It's a bad look to admit you've welcomed a specter from the afterlife into your house (on multiple occasions) when you've spouted off how dangerous these creatures are since your kiddos could walk.

This sets up a scenario where you've got Jack: oblivious, Danny: trying not to reveal his secret while also keeping Vlad from murdering his dad, Maddie: being a badass ghost hunter protecting her family and blasting Vlad into next Tuesday every chance she gets, and Vlad: just, being very...Vlad about everything. Chaos and hilarity ensues.

Can you see my vision?

Jack's humming to himself while making dinner, back turned, unaware anything is amiss as Maddie saves his life, firing a blaster at Plasmius and sending him through a wall before he can attack her husband. She immediatley hides the ecto-weapon behind her back, giving a too-enthusastic "how was your day sweetie!" when Danny walks in the door, brows raised. Jack turns around at the interruption, giving a bright, oblivious, "Where'd Vladdy go?!" which prompts a groan and a "that guy's here again?" from Danny.

Maddie and Danny can bond over their shared aversion to Vlad's general existance, though neither of them admit there's a little more to it than just "he's an arrogant asshole." Or, better yet, they're both putting on the facade, keeping up pretenses, pretending they don't despise the dude, because how are they supposed to explain why they despise the dude? Vlad is impossibly amused by the whole song and dance they're doing, because of course, he's the only one who realizes that Maddie and Danny both know he's a half ghost and are keeping that from each other. And like, as if he's going to let them in on that little tidbit unless it directly benefits him.

Sometimes Maddie and Danny run into awkward situations where they're both trying to protect Jack, but they don't realize it, and they can't be overt about it without the other person realizing what's going on. "Don't you have homework? You go do that, I'll check on your father and...uncle Vlad." "Oh, no, no, don't you worry about it, you're so busy, Mom. I can go check on them!" "That's really not necessary. I don't mind at all." Meanwhile, Vlad is in the kitchen like "why don't you check that cooking oil with your face, Jack? Oh, I know it sounds unorthodox, but I swear that's how they do it in France."

#danny phantom #dp #dp thoughts #vlad masters #maddie fenton #Jack fenton #college trio thoughts #au #au thoughts

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zepskies · 1 year

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Never Say Goodbye - Part 3

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

Word Count: 4,500 Warnings: Language, fluff.

Part 3: Contact

As it turned out, your life started to get better after you missed that shift at the coffee shop.

Oh, you still got fired. But the experience of nearly getting splattered on the pavement by an oncoming truck gave you some unexpected clarity about your life.

Mainly, you needed to stop wasting it. You were tired of jobs that would pay your bills but not bring you closer to your career. And frivolous thoughts of coffee shop boys and…the hope of running into your soulmate.

Maybe one day, you could dare to hope, but from now on, you wouldn’t let it rule your thoughts. You wouldn’t hope too hard either.

It could save you from the disappointment of never hearing anyone’s thoughts but your own.

So you decided to check the University of South Dakota’s career board for jobs, and you discovered an opening in the history department! A research assistant for one of your favorite professors, who was writing their dissertation on the strange, superstitious, and sometimes down-right disgusting social practices of the Ancient Greeks (including bottling up the sweat of their best athletes, because they thought their musky body oils contained magical properties).

Since you were already majoring in history, you were a shoe-in for the job. And working directly with your professor gave you a great resource for future classes.

Four years later, you had earned your bachelor’s degree in History. You even decided to further your education when you were able to get a scholarship for graduate school.

Now you were just one semester away from finishing your master’s. You still worked in the history department, but you had been able to upgrade—to Executive Secretary to the Dean of Ancient Studies.

It sounded fancy, but really, you were a glorified slave. Or at least, your boss seemed to think so.

“I need you to cancel my meeting at two,” said Dr. Birch. She breezed into your tiny office without knocking, startling you from where you were hunched over your laptop.

“Good morning!” came your reflexive greeting, though it was a bit too loud and sharp. You internally winced at yourself and relaxed your posture, like a bird unruffling its feathers. “Cancel your meeting with Dr. Wells?”

Dr. Wells was a nice man, and an important one. He was the Head Dean of the entire History department. Technically, he was above Dr. Birch. It wasn’t a good look to blow him off, but you weren’t about to say so.

“Yes, I have an important lunch, and I already know it’s going to go overtime. Gary will understand,” she replied. She was looking at her phone rather than at you. For all she cared, you were just a calendar with hands.

Dr. Helen Birch was a brilliant woman. She’d published no less than five books, had won awards for her peer-reviewed articles, and she had been your academic advisor all through graduate school.

She could also rival Meryl Streep for “bitchy-ass boss” in The Devil Wears Prada.

“I also need you to grade the final exams for one of my classes,” she said. “Greek Studies this time.”

You held back a sigh. Again? I’ll never finish my own finals at this rate.

But what you said was, “Sure, I can do that. And I’ll email Dr. Wells to reschedule.”

“Yes, make sure it’s not on Thursday,” she said, brushing a finger through her thin blonde hair. “I have to leave early to get my roots touched up before I go away this weekend.”

“That’s fun,” you chatted while you revised Dr. Birch’s calendar on your computer (and sent an apology email to Dr. Wells). “Where to?”

“Oh, I have this tedious conference in Chicago. But then my boyfriend is taking me skiing in Breckenridge.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I simply can’t wait. This semester has been a drain on my psyche, and just terrible for my migraines.”

With the email sent, you took a little breath and gathered some courage as you got up from your desk and gathered a handful of papers you had stapled together. It was a rough draft of your thesis, which was only a bit worse for wear (including a suspect coffee stain that you didn’t remember accidentally putting there).

“Actually, I was going to ask you if you got my email about my thesis. I just wanted to go over some of the feedback you gave me on the draft,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

Dr. Birch raised a brow. “What of it?”

“Well.” You showed her the front page, which was covered in red ink. “Mainly the part where you crossed out the first three pages and commented, ‘Missing the point.’”

She nodded. “Yes. I’m afraid I have nothing to add about that.”

Well, that didn’t exactly help you. The first three pages was your entire introduction to your thesis, “TV & Film: The Modern-Day Mythology of the Masses.”

You must’ve had a pitiful, lost look on your face, because Dr. Birch finally took pity on you. She sighed.

“You are a creative girl. I’ll give you that, but your degree is not in cinematography. You are a historian,” she said. “And while the ‘Well of Souls’ in Raiders of the Lost Ark may be based on a real historical place in Jerusalem, that does not mean Indiana Jones can, or should be described as a ‘religious experience.’”

My ten-year-old self would bed to differ, you wanted to retort, but you kept your mouth shut and lowered your eyes. Dr. Birch nodded to herself and was about to leave your office, until she stopped short and gave you her Amex card.

“Oh. And get me a coffee, would you, dear?”

The moment your day ended and you were able to get into your car, you let out a long sigh of relief. While you waited for your car to warm up, you massaged your hand, aching from grading papers for Dr. Birch’s class.

You rubbed your hands together, this time to warm them as the frigid air draining from the car still bit into your skin. A shudder tingled through your body, and not in a pleasant way. Honest to God, I hate the winter.

On reflex, you toyed with the silver ring on your right hand—your mom’s ring. It usually comforted you, but today, remembering her made your heart heavy. Because today was the anniversary.

You still remembered that snowy day when you were fourteen, could picture it so clearly, like a scene painted on glass.

With one last sigh, you fished out your phone to call your dad. It rang for a few seconds (it always took him an eternity to answer his phone, and it drove you crazy).

“Hello?”

“Hey, Dad,” you said.

“Hey. Just got off work?”

“Yeah, I’m headed back to Sioux Falls. Want to meet at home and go together, or do you just want to meet me at the cemetery?”

The other line was silent for a moment. Longer than you would’ve liked.

“You’re coming, right?” you pressed.

“Look, I’m gonna have to work late tonight,” Jack said. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“Really?” Your voice was terse. “It’s one day a year, Dad. You can’t even manage that?”

“I told you I’m working a case.” He sounded annoyed. You didn’t care.

You were pissed.

“Whatever,” you dismissed. But then, you realized you weren’t willing to let it go just yet. “You know, I just find it interesting. On her birthday, Christmas, today, somehow you just can’t be bothered to visit your wife.”

“Hey, drop it, all right?” your dad snapped back.

“Sure. It’s none of my business, I guess.”

“I don’t need your sarcasm either.”

You silently fumed, but you weren’t willing to hang up the phone first. You didn’t want to look petty, and apparently, neither did he. You both could be stubborn like that, sitting in a tense stretch of silence instead of just…

Instead of just, I don’t know what, you could admit, if only to yourself. Eventually, his voice reached your ears.

“I’ll go when I can,” he said.

“Fine.”

And you really did hang up this time.

What should’ve been an hour drive back into your hometown took almost two with the traffic.

Oh yeah, you still lived at home with your dad. It wasn’t ideal, especially with a long-ass commute every day. But unfortunately, being a full-time student with a part-time job didn’t give you the budget to have your own life.

At least you had your car—a dark blue Camaro your uncle had restored and gifted you for your twenty-first birthday. You didn’t talk to your Uncle Bobby as much as you would like. Between work and school and taking care of the house for you and your dad, you didn’t have much free time on your hands. You did see Bobby around town sometimes, and occasionally shared a beer with him when your demanding schedule allowed.

Your dad had never liked it, you hanging around your uncle. So you didn’t tell him.

That seemed to work out better for both of you.

In fact…

You reached for your phone again and found your uncle’s number.

“Stop badgering me, Rufus. I’m busy.”

Your lips curved into a grin. “Uncle Bobby?”

“Oh. Hi, darlin’. Sorry, thought you were some riff raff that keeps spammin’ me.”

“What did Rufus do now?” you asked.

“He knows,” Bobby said. The surly edge to his voice made you smile in amusement.

“What’re you doing later? Up for a beer?”

“Usually I’d take you up on that, but I’ve got some people coming in pretty soon.”

You scoffed. “You have people? What people?”

“You’re not the only number in my cell, you know,” he said dryly.

“What, you mean Rufus?” you teased.

“All right, now you’re just runnin’ up my minutes,” he said. “If you really want that beer, you’re welcome to swing by, if you want. I’ve got a stocked fridge full of cold ones.”

You laughed, then you considered his offer. Did you really want to go home and deal with your dad (whenever he bothered to come home)?

“Well, I’m going to the cemetery first, but I could maybe swing by after,” you replied.

“Right, that’s today, ain’t it?” Bobby said. “Give your mom my respects.”

A more genuine smile grew on your lips. “Thanks. Will do.”

You hung up with him just as you got to the cemetery. It was hard not to feel melancholy here, especially in the winter. All the graves were lightly dusted with snow, and it felt like the world came to a quiet stillness here.

You bundled up with your scarf and gloves as you braced yourself for the cold, stepping out of the car. On your way in, you heard the rumble of a car going by. It was loud enough to make you turn your head and see a flash of black speeding away.

You shook your head. People drive like maniacs nowadays.

You were about to continue on your way towards your mom’s grave, when you finally heard it.

Say goodbyeee…never say goodbye-y-aaayy. Holdin’ on we gotta try, holdin’ on to never sayyy goodbyeee.~

Someone was warbling a Bon Jovi song in your mind, and it certainly wasn’t you.

But you did come to a dead stop in your path. Your eyes widened as shock claimed your heart and your brain. Soon enough though, your heart warmed as you became aware of something new. It was like a low hum at first, reverberating inside your chest.

You and me and my old friends, hopin’ it would neeever end. Say goodbye—

The singing continued, but all you could focus on was the thrumming in your skull, the thread of connection you could sense and feel inexplicably. You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt warmth trickling down your cold cheeks. Sniffling, you wiped your tears with the back of your hand and smiled tremulously.

You were finally feeling your soulmate.

Which meant, he was close by…and with that realization came an important question:

What the hell do I do now?

They were in South Dakota again.

Dean knew coming back here was…potentially dangerous. He hadn’t heard his soulmate’s thoughts in four years, since the last time he was in this state.

Truth be told, he hadn’t wanted to come here. After the last hunt though, he could use some R&R at Bobby’s for a couple of days.

This time Dean had his brother with him, albeit the circumstances weren’t…great. Their dad was missing, and Sam had lost his girlfriend in the process of trying to find him.

Sometimes, Dean really regretted going to find his brother at Stanford. Part of him thought, if he hadn’t hooked Sam into coming with him to try and find John, maybe Jessica Moore would still be alive.

A more selfish part of him (one he wouldn’t name) was glad to have Sam with him. Dean was actually having fun hunting with him. And maybe, Dean was having to get to know him again too.

“You think Bobby will have any intel on Dad?” Sam asked from the passenger seat of the Impala. They were about five minutes away from Singer Salvage, the old man’s tow business (and his house).

“Doubt it,” Dean replied, changing the radio station once Bon Jovi turned to REO Speedwagon. He could get down with some pop rock from Jovi, but REO was pushing it.

“Then why are we here?” Sam turned to him with a frown. “We just ganked a poltergeist in our old house and…we saw Mom. You think we should be wasting time right now?”

Dean’s lips pursed. Leaving their old house behind in Lawrence, Kansas was exactly why he needed a minute before jumping into the next case. As much as he wanted to find John, Dean just…he needed a minute to breathe.

Revisiting those old (painful) memories wasn’t easy for him. He wasn’t sure that Sam completely got that.

“Bobby’s got a stack of lore books to Kingdom Come. Who knows, he might have a way to help us find Dad,” he said.

Sam shot him an unimpressed look. “And if he doesn’t?”

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He got why Sam was so fired up. Really. The fact that the kid was having weird…premonition dreams about the near future was concerning. And he wanted to find the thing that killed Jess, that killed their mom, but this was clearly going to be a marathon. Not a sprint.

“In the meantime, we crack open a couple beers,” Dean said, “get one or two of free nights on actual beds, and then we’re on our way to the next gig. How’s that sound?”

Sam let out a sigh through his nose and faced the road ahead. They both knew he wasn’t happy. Dean couldn��t exactly blame him.

When they finally got to Bobby’s, the old man greeted them with a casual wave, beckoning them inside. He offered them the contents of his fridge—a few beers and a frozen lasagna defrosting in the fridge. Dean scoped it out while Sam dropped off his bag in the upstairs guest room.

“That for us?” Dean pointed to the lasagna with a grin. “Didn’t know we merited the red-carpet treatment.”

“’Cause it’s not just for you,” Bobby said dryly, then he hesitated. “...My niece might be swingin’ by later.”

Dean raised his brows in curiosity. “Didn’t know you had a niece.”

Or any family, for that matter. He knew the old man had a wife, once upon a time, but he assumed she’d passed away. No kids. Bobby had never talked about having an extended family. He didn’t have pictures on the walls, and the shelves only had books and locked boxes.

Bobby took a long sip of his beer after opening a bottle each for himself and Dean. He had one ready on the counter for Sam, who came into the kitchen looking tired. The kid hadn’t been sleeping well for the past few weeks, to say the least. Dean handed him the beer.

“I don’t see her much,” Bobby conceded.

“Why’s that?” Dean asked.

It took a moment for the other man to answer. Eventually, he was honest. “Well, she's grown. Going to school, got a job. But you could say I had a fallin’ out with her dad, a while back.”

“You have a brother?” Sam said.

“Brother-in-law,” Bobby corrected. He didn’t say anything more about it though. Sam and Dean shared a look that said they agreed: There’s something off there, but I’m not gonna pry.

“You still see her though?” Dean asked.

“Every now and then,” Bobby said, sipping at his beer again. “It’s a small town.”

That kind of pissed Dean off. Bobby was a good guy. He’d watched Sam and Dean a lot when they were kids, their dad on a hunt. He’d made sure they had decent food to eat, good movies to watch, and even played catch with Dean a time or two.

So what kind of assholes did Bobby have for family, that they couldn’t be bothered to check in on the old man every now and then? They must’ve been off living their lives, in their own little world. Must be nice.

Dean brought the bottle of Heineken to his lips, only to realize it was empty. Couldn’t have that, could we?

He went to the fridge and opened the cap, only to jump as the beer fizzed and leaked over his hands.

Damn it!

Bobby sighed. “And I just mopped the damn floor.”

“All right, Martha Stewart. Keep your slippers on,” Dean teased. “Sam, get me a paper towel.”

Bobby tried to get by him to get the mop, but beer was still dripping down Dean’s arm.

“Would you move to the sink, already?”

Sam finally cracked a small grin as Dean rolled his eyes. “Fine. Jesus. You’d think Miss America was comin’ into town.”

Damn it.

You heard him again. And this time, you could hear his voice, so you knew the thought belonged to a him. The voice was pleasantly deep, and annoyed. You actually felt his irritation and were able to recognize that the emotion didn’t belong to you.

Excitement bubbled in your throat, almost making it hard to breathe as you drove your car down the road. You had been too worked up to go see your mom, and technically you were supposed to head to your Uncle Bobby’s house, but this was too important.

You needed to figure out how to talk to him—your soulmate.

So you pulled over on the side of the road, and even turned the radio off. Okay, now what?

You didn’t know what you were supposed to do. They taught about this subject in school, sure, but that had been years ago! You’d spent the past six years filling your head with college and work and learning how to be an adult.

Okay, just breathe. You calmed down a bit with some deep breaths, and you closed your eyes. When you first heard your soulmate’s singing in your head, you remembered feeling warmth spread through your body, emanating from your chest. Then in your mind, you’d noticed a…a thread, of what could only be described as energy.

You felt it now. You could almost visualize it with your eyes closed. In your imagination, it was bright and beckoning. You focused on it, and it grew brighter, thrumming and soft.

You thought of what you wanted to say, and you tried it—sending your thoughts and your will through the connection.

Having a rough day?

Dean was still wiping beer off the floor in Bobby’s kitchen when he heard your voice ring through his mind.

Having a rough day?

His entire body tensed, and he paused with a ball of wet paper towel in his hand. Sam had taken the mop from Bobby and was about to finish off the floor, until he noticed Dean blanking.

“Dean?” he asked.

It shook Dean out of his shock, enough for him to look up at his brother. “Hmm?”

“What’s up? You were staring off into space.”

Dean feigned innocence. “Nothing.”

Sam’s brow rose, but he didn’t press the issue and went back to mopping. Dean took the opportunity to toss the wet paper towel in the garbage.

“I’m gonna hop in the shower,” he said, and made his swift exit to the bathroom upstairs, so quickly that he didn’t see Bobby watching Dean curiously from the living room.

“Don’t use up all the hot water!” Sam called after him.

Once again, Dean found himself locking the bathroom door and staring at himself in the mirror. His green eyes were conflicted as he tried to calm down. Maybe his heart was starting to beat a tick faster. Maybe a trickle of nervous sweat was making its way down his spine. Maybe he didn’t know what the hell to do.

His dad’s warning was still clear as a bell in his mind.

“Unless you’re prepared to hang up your gun, and stop hunting, don’t open that door.”

Dean knew why John had said it, and even agreed with him…at least, logically he did. His life was complicated, and insane, and bloody. How could he put someone else through what he went through? What he still went through every day? It wasn’t right.

But his chest was aching. He rubbed at it absently.

He could feel your worry again, he realized. You were anxious, probably waiting for him to respond. Dean could feel you. Having a rough day? you’d asked him.

So as usual, he made an impulsive choice.

You could say that, he carefully replied. He remembered the way your voice sounded, smooth and pleasant in his mind, and he couldn’t help smiling a little. But not for long, I’m thinkin’.

Your relief hit him in a slow, but powerful wave. It almost made him feel guilty for taking so long to answer.

Well, it’s not every day you hear someone else in your head. Maybe you’re going crazy.

She was teasing him. You were teasing him.

It brought an incredulous smile to Dean’s face. You’re one to talk. Maybe you’re just talkin’ to yourself right now.

Hmm. I don’t usually warble to Bon Jovi, but maybe you’re right.

A beat of surprise, another to remember what he and Sam had been listening to in the car earlier, and then embarrassment prickled at the back of his neck.

You heard that, huh? he asked wryly.

Maybe, you giggled. It was a cute sound, and it cut through some of his embarrassment. He wasn’t used to being put back a step by women. He was good at reading people’s body language, and usually it didn’t take him more than one look to figure out what a woman thought about him, and what they wanted to do with him.

So the fact that he couldn’t see you was a challenge. With that realization, a slow smile spread across his face. He was game for a challenge.

Well, I’m likin’ your voice so far, he said. Think I could get you to sing for me?

He felt you pause, a flutter of warmth through a tendril of shyness. I’ll leave the performing to you, Romeo.

Come on, it’s only fair.

Who said life is fair?

Dean sobered a bit at that. Ain’t that the truth.

Hmm, so you were having a rough day.

Make it a week, he said.

Yeah, I know the feeling…I wasn’t having a good day today either.

Dean sensed your melancholy and didn’t like the feeling. Well, now you’re talkin’ to me. So it should be smooth sailin’ from now on.

He could feel you brighten at that. It made warmth bloom once again inside his chest, especially because he sensed you were smiling—a bit shy, but genuine.

…What’s your name? he asked.

It took you a beat, but eventually you gave him your name. It wasn’t what he expected, but he liked it. Your name rolled through his thoughts, and he tested on his tongue.

What’s yours? you asked predictably. Somehow, Dean didn’t anticipate the follow-up.

Suddenly he realized exactly what he was doing: he was talking to you. (Something he’d told himself he wasn’t going to do.) Not to mention, he’d been locked in the bathroom for about ten minutes and hadn’t even showered yet. Pretty soon either Sam or Bobby was going to come knocking to see what the hell he was doing, so he might as well shower for real.

He answered you as he turned on the showerhead and started undressing. I’ll make a deal with you…if you can guess what I do for a living, I’ll come by and introduce myself in person.

Dean felt your shock, so he let you think as he stepped into the shower. Eventually you came back, annoyance coloring your emotions and your voice.

That’s stupid.

Dean smiled. Aw, come on. It’ll be fun.

For you!

Don’t you know, sometimes the best things in life come after some delayed gratification.

You paused for a moment, in which Dean didn’t know if you were in shock again, or just pissed. Maybe a combination of both.

Great, I got a comedian, you deadpanned. …You’re not a comedian, are you?

Sweetheart, I’m hilarious, Dean replied. But no. Good guess, though.

He sensed the equivalent of you rolling your eyes.

Just then, Sam knocked on the bathroom door.

“Hey, you better not use up all the hot water!”

“Twenty minutes of peace, Sammy. That’s all I ask,” Dean shot back. Sam made a sound of annoyance, but he went away, leaving Dean almost alone with his thoughts.

Look, I gotta go, he said regretfully. But I expect you to have some guesses cooked up by the time I get back from work.

You were still annoyed, but you begrudgingly agreed to his terms.

Fine. Just…don’t wander too far off. I can’t win the game if I can’t hear you.

Dean sensed your underlying worry, and your fear. You were afraid he was going to leave.

His heart softened. As a result, he ended up promising things he didn’t know if he meant.

Don’t worry. I’m not leaving town until you win, he said.

He felt your warm smile, along with your excitement.

Goodnight, sweetheart. We’ll talk soon.

Okay…goodnight.

He hung onto the feeling of your presence for a few seconds longer, before he let go of the connection. For now.

Dean caught himself smiling, but it quickly turned to a frown.

“Nobody should be waiting on men like us to come home bloody.”

When he once again remembered his dad’s warnings, that new warmth in his heart chilled, and it sunk like a stone. He leaned against the cool bathroom wall and pressed his forehead against the tile, while lukewarm water beat the side of his face and body.

Shit.

AN: Oh, Dean. What're we gonna do with you? lol

I hope you enjoyed Part 3! I promise they'll finally meet soon lol. What did you think of their first conversation?

To keep reading: Part 4

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 8 months

Text

i’ll go see you again tomorrow (spring is coming to an end) ; sashisu

[ part i - spring ; satoru gojo ]

synopsis; a snippet of the spring you share with a certain satoru gojo, who seems intent on making your high school life as difficult as possible.

word count; 5.9k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, enemies to friends but the ’enemy’ part is kinda one-sided, wholesome n sweet overall, no curses au, gojo doesn’t know how to make friends and thinks lighthearted bullying constitutes as a bonding activity, reader doesn’t like gojo at first but dw they see the light eventually

a/n; the shoujo manga vibes are v heavy w/ this part i think. high school gojo was born to shoujo but forced to shounen </3

satoru gojo is annoying.

blunt as it may seem, it’s a conclusion you reach fairly quickly. when you first met him, you weren’t sure what to think, what to feel — a deliberate choice, on his part. looking back on it now, that’s the conclusion you come to.

he wanted to appear unreadable. purposefully hiding his personality and mannerisms, to gain the upper hand. observing all of you, dissecting you inside his mind, while revealing nothing about himself apart from his name. it’s a kind of power, a safety measure.

not like it lasted very long, though.

evidently, holding back isn’t exactly gojo’s forte. after only a day or two, he began to show his true colours, having gotten more accustomed to the new environment and classmates — and with the revelation of his genuine personality, your unease around him festered even more.

where do you even begin to describe him? he’s childish, for one. and cocky. loud, arrogant. selfish and flamboyant. just generally an asshole. you could go on and on; none of the traits are particularly flattering, and you know he couldn’t care less.

gojo is annoying, plain and simple. almost constantly trying to pick a fight with someone, uninterested in manners or even common courtesy. he says what he feels, regardless of how other people take it.

to put it simply, he has no regard for the people around him. his self-interest is limitless.

gojo does have a certain presence, though. a kind of charisma, or what you think could become charisma, if he’d just get off that high horse already. he won’t, though — you know he won’t. he revels in it, in looking down on everything and everyone, annoyingly boisterous and irritatingly tall.

most frustrating of all, however, is that his unbridled confidence isn’t exactly unwarranted.

as much as it pains you to say it, gojo is maybe just a little bit incredible. a natural-born genius, even. he’s intelligent, and observant, and awfully pretty, with those blue eyes and that snowy hair.

and he has no issue in getting what he wants. none whatsoever.

there’s something admirable about it, in a twisted way — it’s almost like he doesn’t even need to try. he’s good at anything, if he just gives it a single chance. evidently, he’s never once given a chance to the prospect of being a decent guy, then.

effortlessly perfect, in the most imperfect of ways. that’s probably how you’d describe him.

annoying is still the most fitting word, though, undoubtedly. or maybe obnoxious. he’s got this spoiled rich kid vibe that irks you, gets under your skin. you doubt he’s ever had to empathize with anyone else in his entire life.

really, you don’t understand how geto can put up with him.

gojo said something to him, during your first week of school. what, you aren’t sure — probably some rude, untoward comment, something taunting. shoko told you about it, but you don’t know the details.

what you do know is that they fought about it, physically. and that ever since then, they’ve been on a first-name basis, attached at the hip. it’s not often you see one of the two without the other. evidently, the fight brought them closer. you think they must be at least a little bit insane, but maybe that’s to be expected of kids who’d choose some weird boarding school in the middle of nowhere over a more orthodox choice.

(not like you’re one to talk, though.)

geto is a little better than his best friend, at least. he’s polite, and relaxed, and easy to talk to, only ever annoying when gojo’s around. you don’t know how he manages to put up with him so well, but you get the sense that he’s the only one who really understands gojo. the only one who even tries to.

you haven’t even attempted to do so, yourself. fondness wasn’t something you held for him, from the very beginning, but every interaction between the two of you only serves to make him more and more insufferable in your eyes.

gojo is annoying to basically everyone, always teasing and taunting, looking down from that high horse of his. and you’re certainly no exception — if anything, he’s even worse with you.

you know he looks down on you, from behind those tacky sunglasses. you’re not as self-assured as your classmates, and you think he must have sensed it, the moment he laid eyes on you. that you’re a little meek, a bit of a doormat, easy to push around and get a rise out of. maybe he also noticed your apprehension towards him, your apparent unease.

you’re easy prey, to put it simply.

so as soon as introductions were over, gojo immediately began to push at your buttons. grinning in that cocky fashion, not bothering to hide what he thought of you in the slightest. the first words that came out of his mouth when he spoke to you were rude ones, but you can’t quite recall them, muddled together with every other unneeded comment that he’s thrown your way since.

his behavior hasn’t gotten better, even in the slightest. gojo is always teasing you, annoying you, trying to figure out what makes you tick. almost like he’s solving an equation — the equation being you, the limit of your patience.

evidently, he’s developed a fondness for getting under your skin; it’s your own fault, really, for giving him what he wants. a scoff, a roll of your eyes, an earnest fuck right off. if you were more like shoko or geto, then maybe he’d leave you alone — if you could just brush him off, ignore him, not give him the time of day. deny him one of those reactions he loves so much.

but you’re not shoko. and you’re not geto, either. you’re you, and you’ve always been particularly bad at hiding what you feel.

it’s not like you hate him, or anything. you really have tried to get along with him. but it’s impossible, at the end of the day. gojo is just too good at being annoying.

and, more than anything, he’s far too out of reach. you can state his negative traits without a hitch, as well as his begrudgingly positive ones, but all of them are surface level when you get down to it. in truth, you don’t understand satoru gojo at all.

and that suits you just fine.

you’re just gonna have to live with it. live with him, his presence in your life, disrupting what should have been your peaceful high school years. your new start.

it sucks, but you’ve already resigned yourself to it. having to deal with him every day is annoying, yes, but what can you do? at least you get along well enough with shoko and geto. at this point, you’ve decided to treat gojo like an annoying little toddler, or an irritating pest. someone to put up with, not take seriously.

for a pest, he’s awfully good at making you angry, though. you can never seem to maintain your composure, when he’s around. it’s not always a bad thing — the banter can be funny, sometimes. just a tiny bit. doesn’t make it any less infuriating, though.

and in the state you’re currently in, you doubt you could handle it without popping a blood vessel or two.

a heavy sigh flows from your parted lips, as you examine your blurry reflection in the mirror. fatigue clings to your skin like a layer of sweat, and your mind is muddled, stuffed with anxious thoughts you’d rather not be having.

you feel thoroughly exhausted, completely spent. and the day’s barely begun. you didn’t get a wink of sleep last night, unable to slip into sleep’s embrace without being awoken by an abrupt nightmare.

and it’s painfully evident. in your face, your posture. in the paleness of your skin, only making your vague eyebags more noticeable, and in the way you can’t help but drag your legs slightly as you walk. in your disheveled hair, in every sigh and grumble you let slip as you try to blink the exhaustion away. you just feel so tired, both physically and mentally.

it could be worse, though. you don’t have any classes today, at the very least. it would’ve been an actual nightmare, in the state you’re currently in; having to stay up, take notes and listen to yaga drone on and on. you like your teacher, you really do, but sometimes his lectures can be just a little bit tedious.

the only reason you even bother to leave your dorm at all, in such a restless state, is so you can grab some breakfast. if you’re lucky, maybe it’ll make you feel a little less like a walking train wreck.

with that thought in mind, you make your way to the dormitory’s shared kitchen, enjoying the sight of the cherry blossoms through the windows you pass.

you’ll manage, somehow. your morning couldn’t possibly get any worse, after all.

when you enter the space, you’re relieved to find it completely devoid of people. no shoko, no geto, or even gojo. running into the first two wouldn’t be the end of the world, but it still wouldn’t be ideal. you don’t really want anyone seeing you like this — tired, meek, somewhat vulnerable.

least of all gojo. you shiver at the bare thought.

with laboured, groggy movements, you move around the kitchen, getting cups and plates and turning on the coffee machine. the sizzling of the pan creates a soothing melody, pleasant to your ears, as you quickly make a lazy breakfast to wolf down.

when it’s finished, you waste no time in taking a seat by one of the tables; eager to enjoy the peace and quiet, at last.

but, as always, the world seems to have it out for you specifically.

”oh? well, look who it is. and here i thought you had left, too.”

you stiffen. ever so slightly, barely noticeable, but still enough that you physically feel the dread envelop every single cell of your body. the voice that echoes across the open space is a chipper one. one you recognize. one you were desperately hoping not to hear today.

inwardly wincing, all you can do is continue to idly sip from your cup of coffee, silently going through all five stages of grief before accepting your unfortunate predicament.

that’s just your luck, isn’t it?

resigned to the sight you know you’ll see when you raise your head, you do just that — and, lo and behold, there he is.

gojo looks the same as always. grinning brightly, wearing those ugly sunglasses, making his way across the room like he owns it. a trait you can’t help but admire, envy, as he plops down next to you like it’s nothing. unconcerned about you or your concept of personal space.

”whatcha up to?” he chirps, in a sugar sweet tone, layered over with a boyish kind of excitement. there’s that teasing tilt of his, too, the one that always accompanies his voice when he’s speaking to you.

usually, hearing him speak in such an irritating fashion would’ve put you off. maybe you would’ve given him an apprehensive look, or tried to sound unbothered when answering his inquiry — that usually only makes him more intent on annoying you, but you just never seem to learn.

in your current state, though, you can’t muster up anything of the sort. you’re too tired, too anxious. you just want to sleep.

and yet, despite your best wishes, here he is; satoru gojo, in all his glory, ruining your hopes of what could have been a peaceful breakfast. you can’t even bring yourself to get mad. today, you just don’t have the energy to deal with him at all.

when you glance his way, your eyes meet, for a second — not like you can actually see them, from behind his sunglasses, but you know they’re there. menacing and uncanny. bright and excited.

you allow your gaze to linger at him for a brief moment, before trailing back to your plate. ”morning,” is all you manage to mutter, before taking a tentative bite of your sandwich.

gojo blinks.

he immediately notes that your voice sounds meek. even more so than usual. and it’s a little confusing — he expected you to give him a scoff, or even just a timid huff. but no such luck. you’re just sitting there, quiet, curling into yourself.

so, after a moment’s consideration, gojo opts to look at you. to really look at you, studying your face, the way your fingers move to curl around the ceramic handle of your cup. he’s always been observant, but it doesn’t take a genius to see that you’re tired.

you look out of it, plain and simple. eyes unfocused as you stare into space. gojo is silent for no more than a mere moment, contemplating his next course of action. he’s never seen you like this, before.

did something happen?

— well, it doesn’t matter. not his problem.

”you look like a zombie,” he grins, teasingly, showing off the white of his teeth.

despite the oddity of your behavior, he can’t hold it back — despite his own intuition, telling him to let you be. he can’t help it. you’re just too fun to tease.

suguru or shoko just raise their eyebrows at him, or stare him down like a misbehaving dog — but you always have a good reaction to give. something to entertain him when he’s bored, or something to distract him when his mind is too full of noise.

so he can’t help but tease you, a little. hoping it’ll soothe the restlessness in his chest.

— but for once, what gojo expects isn’t what he gets.

he expects you to glare at him, or tell him to leave you alone, or even just sigh in exasperation. either one would be fine. it’s just mindless enjoyment, to him, a little fun to lighten up his day.

especially now, when suguru is away on some day trip he wasn’t privy to. traitor, is all he can think. and shoko is nowhere to be seen, either. probably off smoking in some random alleyway, listening to one of her weird indie bands.

the whole dorm is so eerily quiet.

(gojo would never admit it, not in a thousand years, but maybe it’d be just a little bit lonely without any of you around.)

for a while, he assumed he’d have to spend the whole day alone. but then he entered the kitchen, and lo and behold; there you were, his saving grace. his dear old irritable little classmate.

a great relief overtook him, when he set his sights on you. oh, thank god — he thought he was going to die of boredom. but with you at school, too, his day is saved. now he can push your buttons to his heart’s content, bask in your playful banter until suguru gets back.

— only this time, you don’t react at all.

you don’t give him what he expects, don’t indulge his little antics, in the way he’s grown so accustomed to. all you do is continue to eat your breakfast, and drink your coffee, in silence. intent on gulping it all down quickly, so you can leave.

gojo’s words aren’t even irritating to you, right now. barely even a hassle. you honestly can’t be bothered with him at all; he can say what he wants, you don’t care. even mustering up the energy to get annoyed feels like too much for your sleep-deprived brain.

gojo waits, for just a couple moments more. hoping for a delayed reaction, a witty counter, a snarky comment. anything.

but it never comes.

finally, he starts to sulk. ever so slightly, slumping against the leather seat behind him, quieting down with a low huff. furrowing his brows as his lips curl down into a soft pout.

god — just what is your problem? what is with you, today? it’s no fun if you don’t play along.

gojo can’t help but grumble a little, under his breath. you’re usually so responsive, so easy to rile up. so what’s wrong? why are you just sitting there?

whatever. he doesn’t care. not even a little bit. so what if you’re not talking to him? like he cares enough to be bothered by it. gojo has better things to do, bigger fish to fry. he wasn’t even that excited, when he saw you. the thought of bantering with you didn’t lift his spirits, even in the slightest. not one bit.

(he hadn’t realized he’d begun to look forward to your interactions so much.)

but, really — come on. would it take so much effort to just say something? to just respond to his friendly little quip? you can’t possibly be that tired.

or what, did you get insecure, or something? because he called you a zombie? no way. you’re not that sensitive. right? or is that it? what a hassle.

you know he’s just messing with you. so why are you acting so….

(sad, gojo wants to think, but he buries the thought before it has a chance to reach his frontal cortex. he doesn’t want to empathize with you. that’d just be too troublesome.)

nonetheless, a strange frustration bubbles up in his chest. at your lack of reaction, the weak glint in your eyes. he just doesn’t understand why — and that frustrates him even more.

why can’t you just bite back, like always?

it’s fun when you do.

the silence lingers on, stretching out as you gulp down your food while gojo keeps on sulking. he’s still just sitting beside you, waiting for something to happen. he briefly considers getting up and leaving, or saying something annoying to hopefully spur you on —

but you stand up before he can convince himself to go through with either option.

having finished your breakfast, your legs carry you to the sink. finally, you can head back to your room. gojo’s being weirdly quiet, you can’t help but notice; it’s kind of hard not to, with how loud he usually is.

but you pay no mind to it, methodically washing your dishes in silence. deciding not to dwell on it. it’s a rare opportunity, after all, one you’d be foolish not to enjoy it while it lasts. you don’t bother saying goodbye to him, either, as he sits there. still deep in thought and grumbling curses under his breath.

he watches you as you leave, gaze trailing after your form until you’re completely out of sight.

then he lays down, flat on his back, with a frustrated huff. trying desperately to brush away the memory of your dim eyes, the slight frown on your lips. the dark circles under your eyes, that he tried not to notice because they made him feel so weirdly uncomfortable. the meek look you gave him.

gojo sighs.

(he feels just a tiny, tiny bit bad.)

when you wake up from your slumber, you immediately note that your body feels lighter.

no nightmares came to haunt you, this time. you practically collapsed once your head hit the pillow, finally giving you some peace of mind, and some well needed rest. maybe having breakfast really did help.

with a groan, you lazily stretch out your limbs, gaze falling on the clock on your wall. you’ve only been asleep for about two hours, or so, but it’s more than you got last night.

what to do, what to do. you still have the whole day ahead of you. another nap wouldn’t hurt, but you don’t want to waste your precious free time by just rotting in bed. maybe you can take a walk around the schoolyard? the cherry blossoms have started to unfurl, and it’s a beautiful sight — perfect to enjoy on a day like this, framed by the blue of the sky.

it’s a pleasing mental image. enough to have you changing into some light and comfortable clothes, intent on seeing the idea through, before you reach a hand out to push the door open.

as you do so, something is knocked over.

a soft little thud, accompanied by the sensation of collision between the door and something else. that’s all you hear, all you feel.

with a low curiosity simmering in your eyes, you exit the room, eagerly peeking around for a look at the mysterious something.

as you do so, your gaze falls on something pink.

it’s tiny, awfully out of place as it lays on the floor. crouching down to examine it further, you recognize it immediately; a small carton of strawberry milk, with a plastic straw plastered on its side. one of the items sold in the schoolyard’s vending machines.

you drink it fairly often, every time you need a small pick-me-up. the sweet taste always succeeds in soothing your spirits.

and it was sitting right outside your door.

you stare at it in contemplation, holding it in your hand as the gears turn silently in your head. that’s weird. did someone drop it? no, that’s dumb — who’d drop it right outside your door and then not pick it up?

did someone leave it for you, then? because they know you like it? that could be it, maybe, but who would —

….

your mind stills.

the idea is odd, to say the very least. so odd that a part of you doesn’t even want to entertain it. but despite your inherent denial, it’s the most reasonable conclusion to arrive at. after all, neither shoko nor geto are there — and that just leaves one possible culprit.

why would he do something like that, though? he doesn’t like you, you know that. so there’s no way — right?

… then again, you have seen him drink it. both of you seem to like it, contrary to your classmates; shoko doesn’t like sweet things in general, and geto doesn’t go for strawberry milk if he can choose something else. honestly, it might be the only thing you and gojo have in common, the one thing that binds you two together. a single carton of strawberry milk. it’s almost comical.

(you wonder why he did it, if it’s really true. you wonder if he noticed that you were feeling under the weather, and figured it’d make you happy.

you wonder if it’d be foolish of you to believe that it’s true, if only because you like the idea.)

your feet move on their own, before your mind has a chance to question the decision. where could he be, you wonder? in the kitchen? in his dorm?

just as the question enters your subconscious, a flash of white crosses your vision. as you absently glance out the window, you see it; white, soft hair, like a fluffy cloud in the midst of all the pink petals fluttering about.

you stop, and then begin walking once more. with more decision.

gojo is sitting right outside the dormitory, on a wooden bench, legs swinging as he gazes up at the sky. his hair sways slightly with the breeze, soft strands moving and caressing his skin.

the air is filled with pink petals, gracefully descending down to the ground, together with a trail of bubbles. gojo is blowing them, haphazardly, following their movement with his keen eyes. they glimmer in the sunlight, reflecting all shades of the rainbow.

the sight is just a little bit breathtaking.

the ground crunches beneath your feet, when you take a step forward — and gojo turns towards you. you stiffen like a deer in headlights. it was almost on impulse that you walked over to him, but now that you’re face to face, it’s a little nerve-racking.

still, it’s far too late to back out now. there’s not much to do except join him. so that’s exactly what you eventually do, albeit a little hesitantly.

attempting to ignore his continuous stare, burning into the side of your head, you plop down beside him. an uncomfortable silence lingers in the air around you both, as he waits for you to say something.

mustering up the courage to do so is tough, though. the decisiveness you felt when you decided to go see him has faded, now only the ghost of a sensation — you’re somewhat nervous to verbalize what was on your mind when you made the decision.

but eventually, you force yourself to speak. hoping you won’t come to regret it.

”… hey, gojo?” you start, softly, not looking at him. gaze glued on the cherry trees. but you know his eyes are still on you; you can feel them, and their weight.

the carton of strawberry milk is in your right hand, and you raise it up, faintly. to get his attention. then you look over at him, not quite managing to give him a smile, but you try your best to look somewhat appreciative.

”thanks.”

a confused blink. gojo looks down the strawberry milk, and then back at you. eyelashes fluttering.

a moment passes. then he turns his head away, swiftly. his hair is tousled by the movement, a couple pink petals stuck between the soft strands. you can’t see his face anymore.

”i don’t know what you mean,” he huffs, with a voice you’ve never heard from him. he sounds almost embarrassed.

upon closer inspection, you think the tips of his ears may be just slightly red. a smile finds its way onto your lips, unbeknownst to you — like this, he’s actually kind of cute. denying your implication, when it’s so obvious.

some part of you was still a little unsure, but gojo’s embarrassment basically confirms it.

(maybe he’s not as bad as you thought.)

cherry blossoms flutter in the wind, dancing joyously, without a care in the world. a spring breeze ruffles gojo’s hair, as he sits beside you, having begun to blow bubbles again. not saying a word, and looking straight ahead. but can’t help but stare at him, a little.

you find yourself thinking that he looks right at home, among the petals. they’re fleeting, hard to get a grasp on. pretty, and so out of reach, despite being so close.

you could reach over and touch him right now, if you wanted to. you could reach for his sunglasses, lift them off his face, and finally see those eyes he’s so intent on hiding. you could see him, see straight into his soul, and find out who he really is.

you won’t, though. some boundaries aren’t meant to be so callously crossed.

instead, you puncture the pink carton in your hand with the plastic straw, and take a tentative sip. the sweet taste soothes you almost immediately; you can’t help but sigh, softly, relaxing a little further. it’s absolutely perfect, for this kind of weather. the sight before you, cherry petals and shining bubbles. a boy you don’t like, but definitely don’t hate, either.

you both look up, following the bubbles with your eyes as they float up into the sky. as they get smaller and smaller, farther and farther out of reach. neither of you say a word, but the silence is comforting. light.

gojo is the first one to break it, surprisingly, in a voice so small you barely hear it.

”you don’t look like a zombie.”

a second passes. the statement catches you off guard, and you’re left blinking in confusion, trying to decipher it.

unable to resist the temptation, you decide to look over at him. with his eyes conveniently hidden behind his sunglasses, you can’t get a good read on his expression; he’s regained his composure, then.

it takes a couple seconds for his words to sink in — but once they do, all pieces seem to fall into place.

is that why he got you the drink?

you just can’t help it. you laugh, lightly, and this time it’s gojo who’s left confused.

”did —” you wheeze, softly, voice thoroughly amused. almost fond. you try to bite back the laughter, but it’s tough. ”did you think i was bothered by that, or something?”

gojo looks at you, for a brief moment. a little stunned. the sight only makes your smile grow even further, as you meet his gaze, eyes crinkled. you really aren’t trying to tease him — it’s just so funny to you. so endearing.

from the angle you’re viewing him through, as you lean back against the bench, you catch a glimmer of his eyes at last. they’re awfully pretty. blue and bright, full of life. when you look closer, you can see tiny, white splotches of colour in them.

they look like the blue sky.

you called them menacing, before, uncanny, but now you don’t think that’s quite true. they’re awfully soft, in the sunlight. especially when viewed like this, right after catching him slightly off guard. it’s a rare moment, terribly precious.

gojo doesn’t let it linger, though — the moment only lasts for a second or two.

then he scoffs, abruptly, turning away yet again. you swear that he’s pouting, a little, even if he’s trying to sound annoyed and nothing more.

”obviously not,” he huffs, sounding irritated as he rests his jaw on the heel of his palm. ”but with how sensitive you are, i wouldn’t be surprised.”

usually, a comment like that would irk you, and you’d bite back. but now it just makes you giggle, lightheartedly. the tips of his ears turn red, again, at the sound.

yeah. he’s really not so bad, after all.

for a while, you don’t say anything else, afraid of ruining the tender atmosphere. you feel closer to gojo than you ever have before, and you wonder if maybe this is the gojo that geto sees; childish, but well meaning. arrogant and cocky, but oddly innocent. selfish — but not really. you may have been slightly off, with that one.

the strawberry milk on your tongue tastes sweet, sweeter than usual.

”hey,” you break the silence, surprising even yourself. the words fall from your lips like soft little breaths, rolling off your tongue like marbles pouring out of a glass bottle. ”i don’t dislike you, you know?”

it’s an impulsive admission. saying it out loud doesn’t feel wrong, though. maybe a little humiliating, sure, but not wrong. they’re honest words, after all.

you suspect gojo may be looking at you, out of the corner of his eye, but you’re not sure. after all, you’re not looking at him, either — that’d feel a little too embarrassing.

he doesn’t quite know how to respond. you’re being strangely unpredictable, today, and it makes him feel a little unsure of himself. your tone is so soft. almost friendly. he only ever hears it when you’re talking to shoko, or geto.

not learning his lesson, gojo opts to tease you, as always. he can’t let the silence linger for too long. it’s a halfhearted attempt, though — more of a vaguely amused huff than anything.

”what, got a crush on me or somethin’?”

this time, you don’t scoff, or roll your eyes, or give him an earnest fuck right off. you just chuckle, in a way that almost borders on fond. you’re not one to tease, contrary to the boy on your left, but your words are teasing even still. ”i have better taste than that.”

gojo should be irked, should grumble and shoot something back, but you don’t give him the chance to.

”i just… you know,” you mumble, tasting the words on your tongue. ”i still think you’re annoying. and childish.” gojo huffs, and your lips curl up. ”but i really don’t dislike you.”

you take a sip of the strawberry milk, before continuing, hoping it’ll make the words easier to say. ”and it’s not like i know you, anyway. so i’m sorry for making a bunch of assumptions.”

a pause. for a split second, you quiet down, a little embarrassed. ”… that’s all i wanted to say,” you exhale, gaze glued to your lap.

as always, you can’t tell what gojo’s thinking. out of the corner of your eye, you try to catch a glimpse of his face, but you have a nagging suspicion that it wouldn’t tell you anything anyway. his eyes are hidden by those sunglasses, after all, acting as a wall between him and the rest of the world. so you don’t know if the words reach him, if they mean anything at all.

but you hope they do. even as you brush cherry petals and non-existent dust from your lap, and get up to leave.

gojo just sits there, for a second, deep in contemplation.

he tries to bury a certain thought, before it has a chance to reach his frontal cortex, before he has to accept that it exists — only this time, he doesn’t succeed.

the words die before they reach his tongue, but he hears them, in his head. and begrudgingly has to accept their existence, after all.

(i don’t really dislike you, either.)

what actually ends up leaving the confines of his throat is merely a scoff, so faint he doubts you even hear it. ”whatever,” he mutters, hoping it’ll come across as cool and unbothered.

the gruff sound strikes you as just slightly flustered. one last smile reaches your face, before you head back inside. gojo stays behind, on the bench, lost in thought.

you toss the now-empty carton into a trash can, dismissing the stray thought of keeping it as a memento of the interaction. that’d just be creepy. you are happy, though. you feel as if you’ve reached something, the start of an eventual conclusion. something worth cherishing.

you still don’t understand satoru gojo. you get the impression that you just grew a little bit closer to him, though.

there are layers to him, more than what meets the eye. hidden behind those sunglasses of his. you can only imagine what the world might look like, from his perspective. what you look like, reflected in his eyes.

you feel a little ashamed, for thinking you had him all figured out. a spoiled, self-centered rich kid, with no functional empathic abilities — it might be partially true, but you’ll have to reevaluate the statement, to see how well it holds up.

the lacking empathic abilities, especially. you still don’t think his emotional intelligence is anything to gawk at, but you may have been underestimating it, a little bit. it’s there, despite everything. in those eyes, in that carton of strawberry milk.

you think there’s a certain maturity, there, in spite of his childishness. or perhaps the latter is no more than a product of the former, a way for damaged children to dress their wounds. the way he carries himself and the way he speaks both seem a bit forced. like he’s used to performing, used to moving in a way that demands attention.

all eyes on him, at all times. you think that sounds just a tad exhausting.

as you return to the safety of your room, you still can’t help but ponder. there’s so much you don’t know. despite the moment you shared, and the connection you think may be growing between you, he’s still so out of reach.

(almost lonely, in a way.)

you wonder what he’s like when he’s alone, when there’s no one around to perform for. what is an actor without their audience?

you don’t understand satoru gojo, not really. not at all, not in the slightest.

but you think you’d maybe like to.

part 0

#i wrote this part a pretty long time ago so tbh i dont think my writing is. v good. but hopefully itll get better by the end LMAO #i love hs gojo soo much hes so cute. so shoujo manga ml. n hes so fun to write in a no curses au #i just feel like gojo is such a gift giver. physically cant apologize but throws ur fave bag of chips at ur head n acts like it wasnt him #hes so silly <33 #next part will b geto’s!!! but itll prob take a while bc my geto bias needs it to be Flawless #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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