summary: Denver isn't sure how to navigate jealousy, Wayne struggles with hidsight.
They had been working up the courage all night. Wayne didn't pick up on hints, and Denver knew they would have to ask if they wanted to dance with him. They hadn't expected it to be so daunting, though, so absolutely terrifying to ask.
He might say yes, but he might say no, might realize the depth of their affection for him. They might ruin their friendship, and that thought scares the hell out of them. So they had spent the night in a cycle of courage building and anxiety, drinking probably more than they should have.
Denver glanced up as a pretty woman about their age appeared at Wayne's side, her smile flirtatious as she offered him her hand. Wayne nodded, knocking back his shot before taking her hand. Their heart cracks a little, and it's nothing. It doesn't matter, but the alcohol makes it feel like a ravine had just opened up behind their ribcage.
”Where are you going?” Katy asked as they shoved themselves off their stool. She frowned, followed their gaze before they're able to tear their eyes off Wayne and the blonde. She made a noise of understanding, and god, they hate the sympathy in her eyes when she looks back at them.
“Home. It's getting late, and I have an early start.” They tried to force a smile, but they know it comes across wet and queasy. Dan and Darry glanced at each other, then Katy. They know the three know.
They know a lot right now. Their mind is a tornado, and their heart is trapped right in its path. If they don't get out of this bar right now, they're going to start crying. They just want to go home.
“You’re nots gonna drives in this weather, are youse?” Dan asked gently, and Denver shook their head, trembling smile still plastered on. Keep going, just keep breathing-
“Nah, I'm gonna walk. I'll come dig my car out in the morning.” They gave Katy a quick side hug, threw their jacket over their shoulders, and marched immediately for the door. They can't help themself, tossing a glance in Wayne's direction as they pull it open. He and the blonde had reached the dance floor, swaying to the music. Denver cursed themself, their emotions, and every moment that had brought them to Letterkenny in the first place.
They wanted to go home. The door slams behind them, and the tears start just after - hot and fat down their cheeks as they storm in the direction of their house. The wind howled, snow slashing against their face, but they can't feel any of it. They don't want to feel anything.
He's halfway back to his seat when he realized something was missing. Wayne paused, looked around the bar. No flash of green hair to be seen, and as he eases himself on to the stool beside Darry, he catches Katy's look.
“Where did Denver go?”
“They went home, early start and all.” Katy answered, raising an eyebrow at him. He frowned, looking over his shoulder at the door.
“They didn't seem like they were feeling well,” Darry chimed in.
“They can't drive that little car in this weather.” He looked between his friends, “I would've given them a ride home.”
“Oh, no, they walked home,” Katy took a swig of her beer.
“What? They could have come and asked me.”
“Well youse seemed a little busys there, Wayne. They didn't wants to interupts your dance.”
He swiveled to Dan and Darry, back to Katy. She raised her eyebrows at him again, glancing at the door.
“Yeah, they took off right when you and that blonde girl started dancing.” She shrugged, “They're a big boy, they’ll be alright.”
He turned back to his beer, took a swig. Denver - thin blooded, hates the cold, two coats and a hoodie Denver had chosen to walk in the snow instead of waiting for him to finish dancing with someone? That didn't make sense.
They didn't want to wait for me to dance with someone else.
His head snapped up at the thought. Someone else. Denver had chosen to walk home in the snow because they didn't want to wait for him to finish dancing with someone else. They would rather face the cold than watch him dance with someone else. He inhaled sharply, turning to Katy wide-eyed.
“Katy.”
“Yeah, big brother?” She had to have known he'd pieced it together, lips curled into a smile behind her bottle.
“Should I have asked Denver to dance?” He looked to Dan and Darry, back at Katy. She shrugged.
“If you wanted to.”
“D'you think… They wanted me to ask them to dance?”
“Possibly. That's something you would have to ask them, though.” She stood, patted his shoulder before heading for the dance floor. Wayne turned to Darry and Dan, hands itching for something to do.
“Have a dart?”
“I could haves a dart,” Dan agreed. Darry nodded.
“Yeah, I could have a dart.”
As the three of them step into the frozen air, Wayne breathed a sigh, relieved for a moment that the snow had lessened. A gust of wind cut through his coat, and the relief chills with it.
They had walked home in a blizzard because they didn't want to watch him dance with someone else.
The thought kept circling, especially now that silence had finally fallen on the house. The wind had stopped, the snow alongside it. He can't sleep, tossing and turning as the words repeat ad infinitum.
He should have asked them to dance. He had thought about it, of course. As soon as they had walked through the door, he had thought about it, but it hadn't felt like the right time. None of the songs had felt like the right one, and then he had missed his chance entirely.
Wayne threw his blanket off, standing out of bed and crossing to the door without a thought. He needed an answer, something that could stop the never ending circle of thoughts.
”Katy.” He rapped his knuckles against her door. Katy groaned from inside.
“What?”
“I messed up.”
There's a shuffle, and the door opened. Katy blinked at him, hip cocked as she leaned against the doorway.
“I'd say so, yeah.”
“I should have asked Denver to dance. They wanted me to ask.”
“Yeah, I think they did.”
They're both silent for a moment before Katy sighed, shook her head.
“Look, just talk to them about it in the morning. I'm going back to bed.”
He could. He knows that. He could call them in the morning and have a real conversation with them, like adults. Except… He's not sure he could sleep if he tried. The thought keeps circling. His hands are itching for something to do. As he passed a window, he glanced out of it, stopping in his tracks at the snowy expanse past the panes.
He’s no good with talking about his emotions, but he sure as hell knows how to show them.
Denver grumbled, trudging through the snow towards Modean's. They'd woken up with a headache, eyes sore from crying, and cheeks rubbed raw. God, jealousy was the stupidest human emotion on the planet, and alcohol was the stupidest human invention in all of history.
They paused at the end of the sidewalk and tossed a glance in both directions before crossing the street. The snow shovel dragged behind them, skipping over displaced pebbles and splashing slush up the back of their legs. Why in god's name had they moved to Canada, of all places? Even their heavy jean jacket with the wool lining did nothing against the bitter chill.
With another grumble, they stepped into Modean’s parking lot and finally looked up from their feet to search out their car. They stopped short, blinking in confusion. Their little car had been dug out and cleaned off. Denver looked at the shovel in their hand, back to their car. Someone had been by to clear the snow for them.
They approached slowly, still trying to wrap their mind around the sight in front of them. Someone had cleaned the snow off their car and dug out the wheels. Stopping just shy of the driver side door, they stared at it, eyes slowly drifting over the hood until something caught their eye.
Tucked under the windshield wiper was a plastic baggie, a piece of paper safely inside. They frowned, pulling the wiper back a little to retrieve it.
I'm sorry, I should have asked you to dance. -Wayne
Their heart stumbled across their ribs, breath catching in their throat. Denver's hand found their keys in their pocket, never taking their eyes off the words. There was a conversation to be had, and no amount of anxiety was going to stop them this time.
A/N: it's truly brainworm o'clock tonite because i was so consumed that i wrote this in the app. (alternate title: would you still love me if i was cursed by god?)
It's the second time they've done this, curled up on Grisham's old couch to waste away another night together. He must've dozed off for a while - blinks at the ceiling and sighs bitterly. Oliver hums back, both greeting and apology.
"Aren't you tired?" Grisham lifted his head from the back of the couch, watches the shadows play across Oliver's TV lit face. The other trainer frowned at the screen, hand never stopping its slow course over Pyroar's head.
"Grish, I don't sleep." His voice is oddly flat, something close to resignation. It doesn't aound right, and it sets him on edge. They're silent a minute, Oliver watching TV and Grisham watching him.
"You keep saying that," He doesn't know how - what - to ask, his own mind addled by the lack of sleep. Oliver sighed, his hand finally stilling, dropping to his lap.
"I literally can't sleep. I'm cursed; like actually genuinely cursed by Celesstia."
"Cursed." Grisham repeats, watching the other trainer's profile for any hint of a joke. He nodded, lips pursed.
"I got lost as a kid when we were on vacation in Sinnoh. When they found me, I was asleep, but when I woke up in the hospital, I told them that a scary pokemon had told me I would never sleep again."
For a moment, he has to wonder if he's dreaming this whole conversation.
"You're being serious."
Oliver finally looks away from the screen, fixes Grisham in place with the desperation and resignation warring on his face, "I truly wish I was joking."
"How do you get cursed by Celesstia? I thought it was friendly."
"I don't know, man, I was five!"
"You haven't slept since you were five?" He has to be dreaming this conversation.
"I might have just turned 6, but yes." Oliver shrugged, "I don't think I miss it, but I don't really remember what it's like either."
Grisham dropped his head against the back of the couch again and stared at the ceiling for a moment. The first few times he'd found Oliver at the truck before opening, he'd been annoyed. Now, it was the biggest reason he got up in the morning. The whole time, he'd assumed Oliver was grabbing coffee and heading home to sleep, some sort of reverse nightcap.
"Why are you at the truck every morning if you don't sleep?"
The silence that follows is heavy, echoing. He lifted his head again, finds Oliver staring at him, expression unreadable. For a heartbeat, he's sure that the other trainer is about to say something cruel, that history will repeat and that he will never be free of Team Flare -
"I like ending my nights by seeing you."
His thoughts screech to a halt, heart stumbling blindly across his ribs. He doesn't think he's ever let on how reliant he is on Oliver's visits, blinking back at the other man. In an instant, Lumiose doesn't exist because it is just the two of them, this room, this moment.
"I like starting my day by seeing you."
Oliver grins, flare blitz bright, and maybe it should be worrying how Grisham is willing to burn for this. He could reach across the couch and take the other trainer's hand. He could just say something.
A/N: pro tip- if you like birds, look at pictures of birds on bad days :) (divider by @/diviniyae)
Shoresy's a crier. He has been his whole life and has made his peace with it. Somehow, in all his years, he'd never actually learned how to comfort other people crying. It's why when he finds Icarus sitting on the floor of the away team locker room full body sobbing, he just... doesn't know what to do. Part of him considers backing out quietly, but he finds his feet moving closer without telling them to.
Icarus shoots him a watery snarl, and he considers again just backing out, going to get Nat, or hell, even Sanger would probably have a better chance of getting the skater calm enough to talk to. He plops down beside them on the floor instead, lets out a long, slow breath. Icarus' arm jumps a little, like they're going to shove him, but curls tighter around their head instead.
"You, uh, okay?" He tries, flinches a little at the glare that's whirled on him.
"Do I look okay to you?!"
Ooookay, diffrent approach.
"You wanna see pics of Big Sexy?"
Icarus chokes on their next sob, coughs wetly into their knees before regarding him with a blatant mix of disgust and confusion. He's already fishing his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it to bring up his photo app.
"Who is Big Sexy?"
"She's my bird." He hears Icarus sniff, and when he glances at them, they're wiping the last of the tears from their face, expression softened.
"You have a bird?" Their voice is soft, still a little wet and wobbly. Shoresy nodded excitedly, turning the screen their way to show them a picture.
"Yeah, she's an alexandrine parakeet."
Icarus sniffled again, lips quirking slightly into a smile, "she's beautiful."
"Isn't she? Look, this was from her birthday-" and something in his chest loosens when the man next to him laughs, grinning sunshine bright back at Icarus. They don't say much else, nodding or 'mhm'-ing at the proper places as he tells them all about Big Sexy, but he can see the weight coming off their shoulders slowly.
"Thank you, Shoresy." They mumble, finally, looking away from the birdie baby pictures he's been excitedly showing off, "this was really cool of you. I'm sorry I was an asshole."
He waves it off, shrugging.
"We're all fuckin assholes sometimes, yeah? Do ya feel better now?" He locks his phone screen, realizes that they've been pressed practically shoulder to knee the whole time, doesn't know what to do with the realisation that he misses their weight against him as soon as Icarus straightens themself.
"I do, thanks. Give Big Sexy some scritches for me, alright?"
"I'll let her know she saved your day," he glances back at them one more time, unsure why his feet don't seem to want to listen today, "See ya tomorrow."
They look up, and the suprise on their face is both confusing and maybe a little, teeny tiny, infinitesimal bit endearing.
F/O: Sevika | WC: 1842 | Warnings/Tags: Semi-public place (alleyway), fingering, strap-on sex, minor degradation (aka one use of the word slut), possessiveness hehe | Masterlist for this ship // so I promised to do both prompts that @clancykisser requested! This was 15) jealous sex in the alleyway behind the bar & also my first smut w/ her I've written so <3
April's breath hitches as Sevika spins her around to press her against the door to the back entrance of the Last Drop.
"So, what was that?" Sevika murmurs, a knowing glint in her eyes. One that spells danger, fun, or both. And one that makes it clear that she already knows the answer, she just wants April to say it out loud.
"What was what? I was completely normal." Despite knowing she's not fooling anyone, least of all the woman in front of her, admitting what she'd been feeling feels embarrassing.
"Normal? Hah, sweetheart, you were brooding. That's not like you." Sevika presses a little more firmly against her, raising her right hand to lift April's chin when her eyes drift away. As cute as her embarrassment is, she wants to hear it.
April pouts slightly at the words, thinking back to what happened inside the bar. Brooding seems a bit much, but she can't deny it either. She'd come down from Silco's office after a brief business chat to find some woman leaning against the counter next to her girlfriend, clearly making eyes at her.
She knows she shouldn't compare herself to her, but she can't help it. Not when the other woman was so much more attractive than her.
Sevika huffs softly, using her grip to raise her chin another centimeter. "Come back to me, princess. You're drifting." And almost scowling, but she leaves that out. "Tell me. What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"
"I…" April bites her lip, feeling silly about it with how intensely Sevika's looking at her. The older woman never entertains someone else now that they're together, and the same is true of the woman at the bar. Sure, she'd been listening and nodding along, but that's not the same as showing interest.
And it certainly isn't anything like the softness in her eyes anytime she looks at April.
So, voicing it feels ridiculous. Usually, it's Sevika being the jealous one (even if that jealousy is tempered by knowing that she's the only one April's ever wanted to be with).
Sevika sighs softly, though it comes out more fond than annoyed. "Next time you're jealous, sweetheart, just come over and make it obvious who I belong to, okay?" She murmurs, brushing her thumb against April's bottom lip and chuckling when it makes her eyes go wide.
"Huh?" It takes everything in her not to flick her tongue against that thumb, or worse, draw it into her mouth. She's so used to doing that when they're alone.
"You heard me. Drape yourself over me, kiss my neck, anything you want. Make it obvious." Sevika drags her lip down teasingly, knowing what thoughts are playing in her head. She leans down so that her breath brushes against April's ear. "Say it. I'm yours."
"You're mine…" April says, barely a whisper, almost entranced by how Sevika's behaving.
"Attagirl. Louder." Sevika's lips press just under her ear with the command, and she grins when she feels a shiver run down her girl's back.
"You're mine." The words leave her mouth with a little more confidence, and a hint of genuine possessiveness that has Sevika's eyes darkening.
"Damn right I am." Her teeth briefly skim the skin of April's neck. "All yours. Now, what are you going to do about it?"
One of April's hands finds the back of her neck, gripping and tugging her up for a kiss, which Sevika chuckles approvingly into. She wraps her prosthetic arm tightly around April and lets her lead the kiss, humming when her teeth inevitably sink into Sevika's bottom lip.
"That's my girl…" She breathes out against April's lips.
April takes advantage of her mouth being open and presses her tongue inside, her hands wandering anywhere they can, not caring that someone could come down the alley and spot them at any moment.
No. If anything the idea of it makes a fire burn hotter in her blood.
"Mine…" She murmurs, breaking the kiss to drag her lips along Sevika's jaw and down her neck. She's practically on her tip toes, and Sevika still has to lean down to let her, but let her she does.
A soft groan leaves her throat as April presses kisses along the blue scars trailing down her neck, each kiss carrying a residual electricity. "Yours," Sevika agrees, her flesh hand dropping to April's thigh and squeezing it firmly.
Her fingers trail up her thigh under her dress, testing her willingness to keep going here. Her only response is April nipping at one of her collarbones, which simply makes her chuckle. "Yeah. Leave marks if you want, baby girl."
If she ever complains about being covered in marks from her favorite girl, something's seriously wrong.
Besides, it's not as if April isn't covered with her own. She'd be a hypocrite to complain.
A ragged sound leaves April's throat, somewhere between a whine and a growl, and she finds a spot on the other side of Sevika's throat to bite down on. She worries the skin enough until it starts to bruise under her teeth, and only then does she let go to press a grateful little kiss against the forming mark.
"Just like that…" Sevika encourages, rubbing her fingers over the wet spot on April's panties and chuckling when her hips arch against her touch. "Already so wet for me. You love it, don't you? Knowing I'm yours…"
"I do," April murmurs against her throat, pressing a kiss against her pulse point. She leaves a few smaller marks wherever she can reach, though her hands have stopped wandering. Instead, one's gripping Sevika's bicep and the other her left shoulder just shy of her prosthetic. They're anchoring her, keeping her standing when each brush of her lover's fingers against her makes her legs feel weak.
"That's what I thought." Sevika delves beneath the fabric and sinks two fingers into April all at once, drawing a breathless moan from her throat. "Though… I think you like the idea that someone could see us. Could see what a pretty slut you are for my fingers…"
Sure enough, April's walls flutter around her at those words, and Sevika's grin sharpens. Gods, this woman is perfect. Despite how her body practically screams the answer, April lets out a little 'mm-hmm,' her hips rocking into every thrust of Sevika's fingers.
"Of course, you do…" Sevika murmurs, crooking her fingers and pressing against that spongy spot inside her.
April crumples with a sharp cry, her legs giving out at the pleasure. It's only Sevika's arm around her that's holding her up, a fact that seems to make the older woman very pleased.
So, it doesn't seem to make any sense why Sevika withdraws her fingers from her. "No, no, don't--" She protests, the desperation in her voice making her girlfriend chuckle again.
"Shh… Just here. Bend over this," Sevika murmurs, guiding her where she wants her. Her hand moves down to undo her belt, and a shiver runs down April's spine with the realization of where this is heading.
Of course, she'd be strapped up on a night like tonight. Sure, they usually end up in the bathrooms, but she's not about to complain, not when Sevika tugs the skirt of her dress up and presses the head of the dildo against her through her underwear.
"Please, Sevi, don't tease…" She whines. "You're mine, right? Then fuck me."
Sevika smirks and tugs the fabric to the side, rubbing the tip against her to gather some of her slickness on it. "With pleasure," She mutters, pressing all the way inside her in one thrust.
April gasps at the immediate fullness. "Yes, just like that…" And of course, Sevika picked one of her favorites for this.
Warmth blankets her back as Sevika leans over her, giving her a moment to adjust that she doesn't really need. Not with this toy. But one that she appreciates, especially as her girlfriend starts pressing kisses along the back of her neck.
"I'm yours," Sevika reminds her as she starts moving, not nearly as slowly or cautiously as she would with one of their bigger toys. No, she knows April can take it, and the environment is getting to her, too.
"That woman? I barely remember what she looked like." Sevika's breath is warm against her ear, but the words touch somewhere deeper. "I was thinking about you, you know? Waiting for you to come downstairs… I was going to buy you a drink, but I think this is better, hm?"
April's cheeks grow warm at that. They were meant to stay quite a bit longer before she got all jealous, but if Sevika isn't upset… then she won't feel bad about changing their plans.
"You're beautiful. Perfect, even. I don't know what you were thinking when you were looking at her, but just know: no one compares to you." Sevika speeds up her movements then, feeling April trembling underneath her.
She's unsure if the whimpers are from her words or the pleasure, but either's good. "You're mine, too, remember that. I don't want anyone else." She punctuates those words with a sharper thrust, her hand splaying over April's stomach.
"Now, here's the plan. You're going to cum all pretty on my cock, then I'm going to take you home, fuck you again, and treat you like the princess you are after. Sound good?" She chuckles when her only answer is a louder moan. She knows quite well how hard it is to talk being fucked this well, after all.
Her hand drifts down so her index finger can rub April's clit just the way she likes. "Good. Then cum for me, princess."
April buries her head in her hands to muffle the sharp cry that leaves her throat, smothering the desperate little whimpers and gasps that follow so there's less chance for someone to catch them. Shame. Sevika will just have to make her be even noisier when they get home so she can hear them properly.
Her hips slow to a stop, and she stays draped over April for a few minutes, pressing kisses to her neck and the back of her head as she slowly comes down from her orgasm. "There's my pretty girl…" Sevika murmurs as April's head lifts back up.
She pulls out of her and takes a second to tuck the strap back into her pants, finding the little whine of loss to be utterly adorable, even as it makes her want to fuck her all over again. Still, once she's presentable again, she does the same for April, tugging her underwear back into place and smoothing down her skirt.
She carefully picks her up, settling her bridal style in her arms. "Feeling okay?" She asks, leaning down to catch April's eyes.
"Mm-hmm…" April nods, still trembling slightly even as she snuggles close to Sevika.
"Good. Let's get you home." With that, she starts walking, already looking forward to another round of making sure April knows exactly how much she wants her.
Summary: A peaceful day shattered by the arrival of the Legendary Super Saiyan in Metropolis. Thankfully, earth had it’s own legend on call—
A/N: I couldn’t wait for my invite link from ao3 anymore I wanted to post this so so bad. These bitches insane!!!!! Also this is set in my crossover au, hence the appearance of the Justice League and mentions of Transformers.
The best part about livingout in the boonies with no neighbors for miles had to be the fact Gia could lay out in nothing but bikini bottoms with a bowl of fruit and a sangria without worry of some uppity neighbor complaining about ‘indecency’. What was more indecent (to her, at least) was having her legs be a completely different color from her arms. There was no way she was going out in shorts if her half of here was pasty as hell while the other half was sunkissed! Speaking off, Gia suddenly felt something heavy and wet place itself on her thigh followed by a high pitched whine. When Gia hgnlifted a lid she was met with a pair of pleading grey-brown eyes and a slobbery muzzle squished against her thigh. For such a massive dog, Kaykay’s noises could have been mistaken for a French bulldog instead of a Cane Corso.
“What?” Gia cooed, reaching over to scratch the mastiff’s head. Kaykay’s attention glanced from her to the fruit bowl before whining again. “Want a blueberry?” Gia asked, earning an excited wiggle from Kaykay’s nub tail. The redhead would be the first to admit her dog was spoiled, but she deserved it. Besides, who could resist such a sweet face? Gia’s hand practically disappeared under the dog’s muzzle, leaving nothing behind but a trail of saliva that she wiped off on her towel. After receiving her tribute Kaykay went back to laying at the foot of her lounge chair, plopping back onto the grass with a satisfied grunt.
Truly a perfect summer day.
Until her phone buzzed, cutting off her Spotify playlist. Damn it, she thought she set that thing to u ‘Do Not Disturb’!?
Gia groaned, her hand slapping over to her side table and checking the collar id. Her annoyed expression quickly morphed into one of confusion—“Sups”. Superman barely called her, hell the only reason she even had his number was so the Kryptonian had a direct line to her dad. Goku had a tendency to never take his phone with him, and when he went off planet to train with Beerus he, of course, forgot it. But Superman knew Goku was away so why…?
“Yo.” Gia answered, only to be met with ear piercing yelling and the sounds of destruction.
Oh shit.
“Gia!” The voice on the other end was most definitely not Superman, she’d recognize the gravely, highkey-intimidating-when-they-first-met voice of Batman anywhere. That made her sit up. “Where’s your dad and brother!?”
“They’re training on Beerus’s planet with Vegeta I thought—?”
She was cut off by a loud yell followed by a ‘Damn it!’ From the caped crusader. “What’s going on over there?!” Gia questioned, “Where’s Supes—are you guys ok or…?!”
“Obviously we’re not!” He barked, ok fair that was kind of stupid to ask. “There’s a saiyan attacking Metropolis, we have the whole league mobilized but he won’t stay down—even the Boy Scout is breaking a sweat!”
“Oh shit.” Gia cursed under her breath, quickly getting up and redressing herself. The only time she remembered Superman actually straining was when he was training with her dad and uncle Vegeta. The fact it was another saiyan too gave her pause, from what her uncle had told her her father and himself were the only full blooded saiyans left after Freeza. “Are you sure it’s a saiyan—?”
“Wall of muscle, spikey hair, monkey tail.” Batman listed quickly. Ok, definitely a saiyan. “And he keeps yelling your dad’s name. You know him?”
“He keeps yelling ‘Goku’?” Gia questioned, raising a pierced brow.
“No, he’s yelling Kakarot.”
Gia’s confusion only grew the more Batman spoke. “Wait, how do you know my dad’s—nevermind.” That wasn’t important, Gia would question how much Batman actually knew about her family later. She quickly got up and redressed herself, her phone tucked between her ear and her shoulder. “I’m coming, hold out for like ten-twentyish more minutes!”
She whistled, signaling Kaykay to go back inside. Spoiled as she was, her recall was top notch.
“Make it five,” Batman ordered sharply. Gia wanted to snap back at him,say something like ‘I haven’t mastered instant transmission so if one half of me is in Metropolis and the other stays here we’re all fucked’, but she held her tongue. Instead she slipped into her shoes and took off in a blaze of fire towards Metropolis. Thank god she was taught to fly, it made things so much more convenient.
“I’m on the way.” Gia said before hanging up.
The sounds of buildings crashing down and sirens blaring grew louder the closer she got to the city, strangled by the acrid fog of smoke that hung overhead. It wasn’t hard to spot the other members of the league, more specifically the barrier of one or multiple Power Rings blocking off a warzone. Christ, the devastation had to be on par with Megatron’s first attack and it had all been caused by one saiyan?!
“Yo!” Gia landed next to the first familiar face—a bruised and hunched over Flash. “What’s happening here, is Supes still holding out or..?” She asked, only earning a small wheeze of a laugh from the speedster.
“Hello to you too, kid.” He greeted, wincing as he tried to stand up straighter. “Glad to see you’re as caring as usual.”
“I’m not gonna ask because the answer is obviously no.” Gia rolled her eyes. “But that was caused by him? The saiyan?” She asked, shoving a senzu bean into his hand.
Flash tensed, clenching his fist around the bean. “He looked right at me.” He said, “He saw me while I had to be going at least Mach ten, stared directly in my eyes before clotheslining me into a building.” His gaze turned back to the redhead, “can all saiyans do that?”
“Dunno. Sounds like a Vegeta question.” Gia shrugged, suddenly feeling a pang of something between anticipation and downright glee. This guy was able to lock onto Flash and counter him, the fastest man on earth.
This guy was strong.
“Don’t waste that bean.” Gia said, making her way towards the barrier.
“Uh-oh…” Flash shot her an amused grin before popping the senzu bean into his mouth “I know that look. Don’t incinerate Metropolis outta excitement, ya hear?”
Oh? Gia hadn’t realized she’d been grinning.
“I won’t, I won’t…” Gia muttered. She wasn’t twelve anymore, she knew better than to fight in populated areas like a city. She wasn't sure she’d even have to use the Phoenix Fire for this guy, her hopes were up sure but…
“Mind forming a door?” Gia asked, gently nudging one of the Green Lanterns, a woman Gia hadn’t met before.
“A door—? Are you crazy!?” The Green Lantern looked at Gia as if she’d grown a second head. “I can’t in good conscious let a civilian—!” Gia immediately realized she was new.
“One door, coming up.” Kilowog spoke up from the right.
“Thank ya, thank ya.” She waved to the Bolovax as she stepped through.
“Kilowog!?” The woman protested.
”It’s ok Jessica, she’s the reinforcement. Ah, so she was a new lantern—that explained a lot.
It was so, so much worse on the other side—the force field put up by the Lanterns acted both as a physical buffer and a sound barrier against wailing sirens from cars that had been thrown through buildings and the distant reverb of energy blasts in the distance. But through it, Gia heard a roar that cut through the rest of the noise sharper than any blade:
“KAKAROT!”
Yep, clear as day her dad’s saiyan name was being screamed like a curse. At least she wouldn’t have to look too hard for the saiyan. That feeling of anticipation and anxiety grew as Gia’s boots crunched the destroyed asphalt before taking flight again.
Batman was not exaggerating, this guy was a saiyan all right— or an insane exaggeration of every saiyan trait. He easily cleared seven feet tall, a literal wall of muscle draped in gold matching the tell-tale super saiyan hair. Gia was led to believe it was only Superman facing off against this monster but flanking him was Wonder Woman and Hawkgirl, all of them fighting desperately against the saiyan.
Before Gia could intervene Hawkgirl landed a hit with her mace, the electricity searing into the saiyan’s flesh. Momentarily stunned Wonder Woman landed a haymaker directly to his cheek, lurching his head to the side with a sickening crunch and yet the manic grin the saiyan wore remained. With speed that shouldn’t have been possible for a being that size, his massive fist locked around Wonder Woman’s arm and swung her back, crashing into Hawkgirl before returning his attention to a visibly disoriented Superman. Ok, wow, that was the first time she’d ever seen him look that out of it without kryptonite being in the picture.
‘Can I beat this guy?’
The thought was fleeting, a spark of uncertainty after nearly ten years of throwing down with aliens, meta humans, and giant robots. All of which Gia came out on top of, she was a Phoenix after all. The holder of the divine fire that could erase any and all threat to her, something that made even the God of Destruction himself take pause. But Flash’s words, ‘he looked right at me,’ still echoed like a warning. This guy saw him through the Speed Force, he was making Superman bleed…when had her hands begun shaking? Why were her hands shaking??
Fuck it, now wasn’t the time to pussy out. Son Gia never pussied out!
“Yo, Roid Rage!” Gia punctuated her yell with an energy blast thrown directly at his back.
It connected dead center, the saiyan’s body heaving forward from the impact but not with the force Gia had expected. He leaned back upright slowly, craning his head back towards her.
“You…” His voice rasped, it wasn’t as deep as she’d expected it to be. But Gia was more distracted by his lack of pupils, her own amber eyes locked with blank, predatory white. “You’re new.” The pit returned, but Gia did what she did best (other than fighting, of course).
“And you’re clearly compensating.” She retorted, a lazy smirk playing on her lips. “Attacking a crowded ass city full of people you know can’t defend themselves? That’s some fuckin’ micro dick behavior.”
The saiyan scowled, easily taking her rage bait while giving Superman, Hawkgirl, and Wonder Woman time to escape. “Mouthy little bitch…” He sneered through gritted teeth, his attention now fully on her.
“Yeah no shit. Anyways…” She casually rolled her shoulders. “You’re strong, that I can acknowledge. So why don’t you give me a shot?” Her suggestion made the behemoth cackle, as if her challenge were some incredible joke.
“A little bug dares challenge me?!” He questioned, “You don’t know what you’re demanding, girl. But if you’re that desperate to be crushed…” Without realizing it he had been charging a ki blast in his palm, “then die!”
“Gah—!” The blast came at her at breakneck speed with Gia dodging it only by a hair. She had no time to recover, in the blink of an eye the saiyan was above her and bringing his fists down in an axe handle right between her shoulder blades. Gia plummeted, crashing into the earth like a comet and landing on her side. She shakily got back to her feet.
Ow.
Ow?
When had Gia ever felt ‘ow’ before?
She didn’t have any time to wonder, his massive fist was about to come down on her again—instead of dodging Gia was able to block. She used his fist as a springboard and launched herself up, connecting a powerful roundhouse kick to his head. In the moment the saiyan was stunned Gia threw her own ki blast at him—red light exploding in a fireball onto his side. He may have been built like a brick shithouse, but he was still organic. Still made of flesh. Flesh could sear, flesh could burn and sizzle like meat on hot iron.
But even as the saiyan’s skin rose and blistered he only laughed, the feral grin still plastered on his face. “That burns…” He said, cocking his head to the side as he stared at her. Somehow his gaze shifted, the blood lust was still there but now it was more curious, analyzing even. A predator acknowledging its own kin and trying to determine how much of a threat it posed. “You fight like a saiyan, but you reek of something else.” He pointed a massive finger at her, “before I kill you, tell me what you are!”
Gia scoffed, he really couldn’t have picked a more cornball way to phrase that? Besides, why would she do anything this asshole said? She just wanted to kick his ass and then go home, this was not how—!
Her train of thought was cut short, suddenly aware of a massive fist concaving her stomach. She tasted blood, unable to breathe but hacking up saliva in a forced exhale. Something cracked, a rib? Her sternum? Gia couldn’t tell, she just felt the pain bloom in her center and spread. Fuck— she’d never taken a hit like that before, even when Gia was training with her dad and brothers they never hit like that. Her ears rang as she was launched back into a nearby mountain, her body forming a crater in the stone.
Holy shit.
“If you won’t speak,” the saiyan grinned. When had he gotten so close again? “I’ll tear the answer out of you!”
There was that pit again, mixing with physical pain and forming an excruciating cocktail of agony and dread. This guy wasn’t just strong, his power was bordering on immeasurable—he was no Bane or Vegeta he was a league all his own! He was fucking scary!
Despite the fear and how bad it hurt to even take a breath Gia laughed. Though it came out more like a wheeze and her lungs howled with each intake of breath, her laughter filled the dead quiet landscape. She was fearing for her life, fearing what it meant for her to die!? When had she felt such primal emotions before? When had she ever had a fight this serious before!?
The saiyan looked at her oddly before scowling, “laughing? Have you simply lost your mind from fear?”
“Nah…” Gia grinned, spitting out some blood. “You wanna know what I am?” She echoed, letting her own fire spark to life. Her red curls ignited into dancing flames and her fists engulfed into twin infernos. “I’m Son Gia, and I’m a god damn phoenix!”
When was the last time she went all out like that?
Gia couldn’t count the amount of times Kaioshin and Whis drilled into her that ‘phoenix fire shouldn’t be used lightly’. That it must be maintained as a source of purification and not one of annihilation. Blah, blah, blah, important divine being stuff she probably should have paid more attention to—but they were her flames to bear. Son Gia was the Phoenix of Universe 7, or maybe the Phoenix was Son Gia? Whatever, it didn't matter either way. What mattered in that moment was she finally, finally got to use her fucking fire after nearly two years of being dormant!
The saiyan’s shark-like eyes widened slightly before breaking into a manic grin that matched Gia’s own. “So you’re not as worthless as I thought.” He said, “I am Broly, remember it. You’ll be begging to me once I put those flames out!” That only earned a manic cackle from the redhead, no snappy comeback, no snarky thoughts about his cornball threats. Gia just launched herself right back at him, the sand under her feet hardening into glass. Right, control, control…she wasn’t going to erase this guy—‘Broly’. She’d singe him a bit, maim him a little, enough to put him down temporarily. Because Gia would fight Broly again, he didn’t have a choice. He was too rare a find, an opponent with battlelust that matched her own and the raw power to back it up.
Gia’s fists flew, connecting, blocking, she couldn’t tell when one was moving and another pulled back. Was that her blood or his?
Two hands around her waist—massive, crushing against a scorched chest.
A laugh (or maybe a shriek?), teeth sinking into a solid trapezius. Gia tasted blood before she was ripped away. She took the chunk of flesh with her. Bitter.
Plummeting again, not again because she flew. Blinded temporarily by a ki blast, dodged but grazed her side.
A distraction, a knee to her back, lurching around on a bruised spine only to be clotheslined. Didn’t matter, it was too much fun!
Manicured nails dug into his arms, iron grip, a resounding crack amongst a chorus of euphoric laughter and the smell of burning flesh.
Feet connected to his chest and pushed, heels breaking bone.
When did Broly get blue eyes?
Both of them were suddenly earthbound, choking on blood and laughter. Gia’s bruised legs straddled Broly’s torso, one of his arms bent at an awkward angle and crimson flowing down his heaving chest. The bite was deeper than Gia intended, no wonder that gamy taste was stuck to her tongue. “Hey…” Gia breathed, twitching from multiple broken ribs. “You’re…really fun…” She giggled manically, gazing down at Broly as she nearly collapsed forward before bracing her palms against his pecs. “I wanna …fight you more…! You better fuckin’ fight me more…! I need it!”
Her psychotic plea was only met with an amused scoff. Broly’s uninjured hand shooting up, grabbing her by the nape and twisting into sweat soaked curls. “And you’re…an absolute freak…” He sneered back, trying to force her head forward and close the distance.
Yeah, no.
Gia threw her head down, her forehead crashing into his own. Something fractured, not bone, something that felt like metal and glass.
She couldn’t be bothered to find out, or rather her body couldn’t be bothered to keep her conscious enough to find out. The intensity of their battle left both of them unconscious yet satiated. Broly didn’t outright answer her but she recognized the feral look in his eyes, a ferocity that rivaled her own. If it were anything like her own Gia knew that ferocity would find itself directed back at her again.
He's been carrying an engagement ring for nearly two months when the courage finally finds him, slumped halfway onto the surface of the island, head in his hand, and still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The orange-ish light of sunrise is flooding through the windows, painting everything in pastels. Kandomere is busy with the coffee pot, humming just slightly with the elevator music playing over the forecast in the living room. Same jingle as every morning, and it's a punch to the gut, breaking the surface of cold water for a gasping breath. this is gone in an instant, reeling with the realization that he wants this forever, sees these same idle mornings stretching out before him, and wants so deeply his chest aches. There’s no such thing as perfect moments, but this might just be the exception - and his mouth is working faster than his brain, words spilling over his lips in a rush.
“Will you marry me?”
Kandomere stops, blinks once at the contents of the drawer he’s just opened before he turns to meet the human’s gaze. Every heartbeat feels like a million, seconds blurring into lifetimes. He finally raises an eyebrow, lips curling into the slightest of smiles.
“Say that again.”
Alistair sits up, leaning in on his elbows. His heart is pounding so loudly he can’t hear himself, hands shaking. He’s trying not to laugh, breathless all over again. He might cry.
“Will you marry me?” He can’t keep the grin off his face, watching the corners of Kandomere’s lips twitch as he tries to smother his own. He crosses the few feet between them, takes Alistair’s face in his hands, and kisses him. It only lasts for a moment before he’s pulling away, watching the blond’s eyes flutter open. They’re barely a hair’s breadth apart, breathing the same air. Alistair grins.
“Is that a yes?” He’s absolutely going to cry, tears dewing on his eyelashes and voice wobbling.
“It always will be,” Kandomere pulled back just slightly, wiped at his own tears with a wet laugh, “I love you.”
“I love you.” The giddy grin returns, “Dude, I’m totally taking your name-”
“You just proposed, and you’re going to call me dude.”
“Yes! No take backs!” Alistair held out his pinky, Kandomere laughing immediately before he links his with it.
There's a hockey stick hanging from their keys, a little metallic 69 dangling beside it. For a moment, Shoresy's sure he hadn't seen that right. That he had hallucinated the whole thing, until Icarus sets their lanyard on the table and the hockey stick is right there. So is the 69, his number.
"Is that?" He points to it, a shit eating grin crossing his face. Icarus' eyes flash down for a second, blinking once.
"Everyone else was sold out," they shrug, voice non-committal, "I felt bad, yknow?"
"Bullshit! You bought it because you like me." His grin only grows at the eyeroll he earns.
"So?" They rest their chin in their palm, eyes focused on him over the rim of their glasses. It's inexplicable that he's struck suddenly, overwhelmingly, with the urge to flirt with them the way he flirts with Laura. He tries to swallow it, chokes.
The feigned nonchalance is gone as he splutters and coughs, the last flash of their face all suprise before he buries his own face in his sleeve. When he's recovered enough to look again, their face is creased in worry, one hand out and water glass pushed his way.
"Christ, Shore, you okay?"
"Yeah!" His voice is squeaky, and even a swig of water doesn't release the tightness in his chest, "yeah, I'm totally fuckin fine! Just peachy!"
Their head cocks, brow furrowing. He is not passing this off, fumbles for a reponse that isn't god please just once. Maybe it's some kind of divine intervention, when their sandwhiches arrive just as he's gearing up to say something that is going to have repercussions. Icarus gives him one more curious glance, lets the moment go to reach across the table and snatch a fry off Shoresy's plate.
"Motherfucker! If you want fries get fries!"
"If I get fries, what am I going to piss you off with?"
He purses his lips, curls an arm protectively over his plate, and desperately tries to suppress the butterflies that appear when the skater across from him throws back their head and laughs. He can't possibly be feeling.... whatever he's feeling right now. No way. He shoots one more glance at Icarus, watches them idly scratch something in their notebook, and can't take his eyes off their hands. He finally tears them back to his plate, holds his breath.
