Clone^2 Damian
If you really think about, Damian's situation in the clone^2 au is... kinda tragic? Especially in the early months of his arrival. Like,,, think about it. Damian has always known he was a clone of Damian Wayne, that he was a copy of the blood son. There was nothing 'original' about him, not even his name (of which at least Danny has that). He was just... a replacement. A disposable one, to boot.
And he knew that, to an extent, by the time he was six years old. he might not have been actively acknowledging it -- he's six years old -- but deep down he knew. And like, he's six years old. Every small child craves the love and affection of an adult, especially their parents, and even though he knew he was clone, I imagine he still considered - and still does consider, somewhat - Talia and Bruce as his mother and father. And I really doubt he was... getting it?
Now, I know Talia loves Damian, her son. At least in some interpretations she does, and in this au she does. But... a clone of her son? I'm not so certain if she would have the same affection for baby Dames as she would for Damian. I don't think she would treat him badly, but I don't think Talia would treat him warmly either. Kinda just, distant. Colder than she would have been with OG Damian.
And, I know I've mentioned Damian's arrival from Danny's point of view, and its kind of comical kind of insane from his perspective -- a little boy clone of Damian Wayne falls through a portal and immediately attacks him. That sounds like a bad joke.
But, if you think of this from Damian's point of view? It's like he just got dropped into a scary movie. Like, think about it. You're six years old, and suddenly a portal, as green and as swirling as your grandfather's pools, opens up beneath your feet and sucks you through.
After an intense bout of vertigo, you end up in a massive, urban city -- completely different from the rural mountain palace that you lived in for the last six years of your life, and in this city, you don't know any of the language. You don't know what anyone is saying, you can't read any of the signs - you are completely stranded, away from home.
And then, to make things worse, you're facing a figure with a terrifying mask and eyes as burning green as the portal you fell through. Of course Damian's first instinct, six years old, is to attack. He's terrified.
And this figure, he's not a good fighter, but he's fast, and he dodges you quickly. He grabs your sword with his hands, and tries to restrain you, saying something in a language you don't know. Naturally, Damian is just scared. He's six! He'd just be learning how to read if he was normal child going to school.
This figure halfway through the fight yanks off his mask -- he realizes you're scared -- and looking at you now, is a youthful version of your father. This is a clone of your dad, someone you have never met but, six years old, still wants to. Damian gets defensive. This is an imposter.
But this imposter eventually gets you home with him - and he's using his little box, his phone, to communicate with you through a mechanical voice speaking in arabic. and it's frustrating. The boy, the imposter, can say whatever to you just fine, but trying to talk back is a hassle and a half. He's six, he doesn't have that much patience.
He wants to go home.
And so he keeps trying to run away. He keeps trying to find out of this hellish concrete jungle, and he keeps getting lost. It's loud, and busy, and there are people talking to you and you don't understand them, and there are rules and signs you don't understand - Damian tries to cross the street and nearly gets hit by a car. He doesn't know how the road signs work, he was never taught. They didn't get to that.
And he gets lost. And it gets dark, and Damian is brave, but he is six, and this is the worst stress he's been under in all his six years of life. He wants, desperately more than anything, to go home. Why wouldn't he? The only stable... semi-stable environment he was in just got ripped out from under his feet, literally! He wants his mother.
And it's not happening.
But there's something good to be said, at least. The imposter that looks like his father always comes and finds him, no matter what. He could have left that morning, and he will find Damian at midnight, frazzled and worried, and carrying an extra jacket with him because it is cold in Amity Park and Damian is six years old.
And sometimes Damian attacks him - he's scared and stressed and he doesn't want to be here. And every time he catches the sword. Even though Damian can see it cut into his hand and pearls of blood well up and stains his fingers. Even though Damian can see him wince in pain and bite his lip, he still catches it.
But with that little box, he coaxes Damian to come back with him. It's cold, it's dark, Amity Park is unsafe at night. They can figure something out tomorrow, please. And every time, he agrees, reluctantly. And the imposter takes the extra jacket he brought with -- a flannel, a hoodie, a jacket -- and he wraps it around him. It's warm, Damian's clothes are not that thick, and even though he thinks he might hate this imposter, he still sticks close to his legs as he leads him down the street.
And sometimes the imposter carries him, because Damian's shoes are not that thick, and he cuts his foot on broken glass while they're walking home. The imposter sits in the bathroom with him and carefully cleans the cut out, and makes sure it doesn't get infected.
There's hope you know, he still has it. His mother will be looking for him. She'll be worried. He's important to them. Damian may not be the original, but he is still a blood son. He is still her son. She will come find him. This nightmare will end soon. He can go home.
And then weeks pass, and nothing. Then months, and nothing. His family is not coming for him, and it hurts. Hurts more than anything. And yet while that happens, the boy he's attacked, and hurt, teaches himself arabic in order to speak to him. He takes Damian out of the house one afternoon and buys him new clothes, or tries to. And then he keeps buying him new clothes. He gives him blankets and gives up his bed to him until they can get him one himself, and steadily he teaches Damian english.
This boy is kind. Kinder than Damian's ever experienced, and he doesn't know what to do with it. He's devastated by the fact that he is not as important to his family as his family is to him. What do you do when you're six years old and you learn something like that? When a random stranger who looks like your father is kinder to you, and cares more about you than your family did?
And then Damian tells him he's a clone. He's Damian Wayne's clone, and he tells him his purpose - that their grandfather made him to kill him. And the boy, the imposter, Damian thinks he probably already knows that he's a clone. But he doesn't say that. He just nods, and asks him if he wants to tell his original about him.
Damian says no. He doesn't want to. He's tired of living in the shadow of his original. He wants to keep this to himself. This is his. For once, all of this is his.
And to his surprise, the imposter doesn't try and convince him otherwise. He just nods, and says okay. And when Damian asks why, the imposter - his brother - looks at him and says.
"I don't care about Damian Wayne. I care about you." And in Damian's gobsmacked silence, his brother continues. He tells him that if Damian doesn't want to tell his original that he exists, then they don't need to. They don't need to worry about the LoA going after him, because clearly if his 'grandfather' needs to make a clone of Damian in order to take him out, then whatever it was that Damian Wayne was doing to keep himself safe, was working.
"Wayne already has people in his corner, he's got Gotham's army of vigilantes to keep himself safe." his brother says with his eyes as blue as moonlight. "You, however. Do not." And he continues, and says that if Damian Wayne has the same training as Damian does, then he will be fine. He doesn't need to be aware of his clone. Because if DW doesn't know about Damian, then the LoA doesn't either.
And here's the thing. Damian would not have survived in the LoA for long. Not as a clone. No matter what, he was going to die no matter what he did, and sooner rather than later. The sword of Damocles was always hanging above his head in the League of Assassins.
That portal, and meeting Danny, saved his life. There's no way around it. And to an extent Damian knows this even at six years old. He may not be aware that he would've died, but he knows that meeting Danny was the best thing to happen to him.
It's no wonder after that, that Damian is as clingy to Danny as he is. Danny is the first person he's met to offer him unconditional love, with no strings attached, only pure affection.
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Something about how Fire & Ice give up on going after Pearl directly, and instead both arrow in on dissing Marina-
Something about, Pearl having no shame at all, outright telling Frye right off that Off the Hook is here to “take control” and then literally talking over Frye’s turn. Frye’s snarking on how Pearl isn’t the boss here and no one’s cheering for her, ignored. How she goes after both Frye and Shiver asking where Frye’s big friend is to help her pass this test, moving right on to saying they’re both just goons making a mess anyway, little fish who should stay in they're bowl, but
that seems to give Frye the idea of hitting back with the “who’s backing you? Imaginary friends?” line… like Marina doesn’t even count as a music partner- or a friend?
Pearl literally yaps about Marina being divine, one of a kind, voice so fine, big mind- raps the lines off her cuff and the heart that's proudly pinned there
And Frye and Shiver go TARGET DETECTED. They lock onto Marina.
Shiver doesn’t bother trying to needle Marina about Pearl, the way their partners were each doing- if Pearl has no shame then at least she DOES still have a weakness, a soft spot, a thing she openly cares about- something they can try riling her up over
(problem: Pearl actually has all the confidence in Marina as a musician, partner, and performer. She's WATCHED Marina be all those things for YEARS now)
In the end Frye and Shiver just rile up the gay feels. Because Marina’s been living with a rapper who LOVES hyping her up even when they’re not on stage- Pearl who said she’d cut a fish for Marina. And if you don’t come to Inkopolis with a lot of self confidence, well then getting some from your girlfriend is fine too
But it’s cute that Pearl’s still so obvious about being Marina's no. 1 fan that Fire & Ice thought they could use it against her XD
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hi yes it's me writing another Olli/Allu shortie, inspired by the tags in @xgiuliawrites' latest fic (which y'all should go read immediately if you haven't), particularly I was intrigued by the tags sauna, masturbation, and accidental voyeurism 😳
~*~
Aleksi had not meant for it to happen, because of course he hadn't. He hadn't planned to let his imagination run quite so wild, too wild, while sitting next to Olli in the sauna just moments ago, trying to look everywhere else but Olli's happy trail, trying hard not to imagine the salty taste if he was to place a hungry kiss there (he blamed Porko's stupid playlist which had Olli humming a song about pouring tequila in one's belly button in between throwing more water on the stones, pushing Aleksi's agony to the brink of his sanity).
Likewise, he had not intented to grow a semi while washing himself, the knowledge that Olli might have been staring at his bare backside the entire time exciting Aleksi as much as intimidating him (he blamed the wonky reflection on the shower tap the revealed Olli's eyes travelling up and down his body as he showered).
Even less so, his intention being to get out of the changing room and in the cold winter air as fast as he could to kill his budding boner before it would become a problem, he most certainly had not forgotten his toiletry bag on the changing room bench on purpose. Yet, there he was now, mouth hanging open at the sight he was witnessing through the tinted glass door of the sauna, the toiletry bag and his plans of cooling down long forgotten (for which he only had himself to blame, let's face it).
With his long lashes resting against his cheekbones, it was clear Olli had not noticed Aleksi's return, otherwise he obviously wouldn't have ended up in this situation. That was why he should've turned back the second he had realised what was happening on the other side of the glass door separating the sauna and the changing room, as that's what a good friend and a decent person would've done, immediately and with no hesitation. However, as the past week had proved, Aleksi was not a good friend; verily, he was a horrible, useless, and immoral friend who had gone and started having sexual fantasies about his hot, funny and super cute bandmate late at night while sleeping next to that very bandmate on their song-writing camp combined with a winter holiday (even if no one could hardly blame Aleksi for it, because who wouldn't start lusting over the divine being that was Olli Matela, especially when one got to lay beside his gorgeous naked body at night).
Indeed, there was no denying Aleksi was no decent person either, not with his eyes nailed to Olli as he pleasured himself in the heat of the sauna.
The soles of Olli's feet were pressed against the foot rail, which was exactly how Aleksi had left him, but while Olli's knees had then been close together with his arms relaxed on them, they were now wide apart to fully expose Olli's cock, pointing towards the ceiling with his hand stroking it at a leisurely pace. The hardness of his erection, standing proudly while Olli's fingers slid up and down the length, was a dead giveaway that Olli had wasted no time since Aleksi had left – either that, or he, too, had felt the strange, steamy tension during their shared sauna moment.
While Olli's right hand was devoted to rubbing his erection, his left one was free to roam all over his sweaty torso, which did nothing to ease the building pressure in Aleksi's pants. Aleksi let out a lustful sigh as he watched Olli's hand caress his own abdomen, fondling the happy trail Aleksi himself had lusted over just a few moments ago. When the hand moved up again to massage Olli's chest and to tease a red, harneded nipple, Aleksi had to sunk his teeth into his bottom lip to stop himself from whining out loud. He craved to replace Olli's hand with his own, to be the one giving Olli such bliss that had his head thump against the sauna panelling and his stomach sinking in a deep, euphoric sigh.
Only then – hearing the thud of Olli's head resting against the wall behind him – Aleksi could bear to leave the sight of Olli's body and look up at his face instead. There, Aleksi found a small smile, only barely visible through the coloured glass door, but it spoke volumes of how much Olli was enjoying himself. Aleksi wished he could've joined Olli in his pleasure, perhaps even be the reason for it, but for now he had to settle for palming himself through his trousers to give his own aching cock some much-needed relief. Shortly after, guilt forced him to remove his hand and dig his nails into his thighs when he felt himself getting close to coming embarrassingly quickly.
He should leave. He should throw himself in the snow and let the blizzard bury him, or whatever it would take to reboot his brain and erase all the images of Olli sitting on the sauna bench with his legs spread and his hand pumping up and down on his long, rock-hard cock, because there was no way he would be able to look his friend in the eye after this, let alone sleep next to him under any circumstances.
Just when Aleksi had convinced himself to make his silent escape and perhaps drown himself in the hole Tommi and Niko had sawed in the ice for some post-sauna ice swimming, as that was the least he deserved for being such a pervert, a low moan from the sauna nailed Aleksi's feet to the floor.
His eyes found Olli's erection again to immediately notice that the earlier calm, almost lazy pace of Olli's hand had now been replaced with a much quicker one, one that was determined to take Olli closer to his release with each long stroke. His left hand had abandoned his nipple and was instead fondling his balls, which seemed to bring Olli a great deal of additional pleasure, if the ecstatic expression on his face was anything to go by.
"Aaahhhh... aaaahhhhhh..." Olli's grunts went straight to Aleksi's cock that was twitching inside his boxers as if to poke at Aleksi for his attention. He didn't dare touch himself again, though, having decided he'd rather freeze his own penis by sticking his hard-on in a bank of snow than walk through the living room with jizz in his pants.
As Olli's moans grew louder and more frequent, Aleksi realised he wouldn't probably even need to grab his cock to come undone in his pants from just looking at Olli, at his hardened bicep, at his hair-covered chest expanding and sinking rapidly, at his glistening cock inside his fist that hastened its movements by the second until streaks of white fell on Olli's stomach with one last moan (more like a whine (more like the sweetest single sound that had ever blessed Aleksi's ears)).
Aleksi ignored the throbbing in his pants as he devoured Olli, who was now relaxing against the wall completely, his fingers but resting on his still hard member instead of gripping it in search for an orgasm.
A satisfied, laid-back smile spread on Olli's lips, and all too late Aleksi understood what for. All too late, Aleksi realised he had missed his cue to cut and run in shame, when Olli opened his eyes to look straight into his.
Olli's smile didn't falter, and there was no sign of shock or embarassement in his dark gaze. If anything, the smile widened, and the already horny look in his eyes grew ever more lewd as it flickered between Aleksi's face and his crotch, Aleksi's hand doing a poor job hiding the tent on the front of this sweatpants.
Olli raised an eyebrow and nodded towards it.
"Need a hand with that?"
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mike—who wants to be needed more than anything & feels he has nothing to offer the ones he loves—telling will—who thinks the world of him & wants nothing more than to be by his side always—that even with all of their lifelong friends there, the past year has been weird, because hawkins isn't the same without him. because he, his life, and everything he's ever known aren't the same, they aren't right anymore without will there, too.
will, who has always been there & whose love has always held it all together for him. will, whose unwavering belief in him gives him a sense of purpose. will, who sees him as he is and allows himself to be seen, too. will, who holds his heart in his steady hands, urges him to shed his stoic armor, and gives him the space to be a real human being whose thoughts and feelings always matter.
will, will, will. the boy he'd do anything for and that he's never stopped caring for, even and especially when it hurt. the boy who said yes and whom befriending is the best thing he's ever done. the boy he can't lose without losing himself, too.
mike always pulls will free from any extradimensional monster's grip and makes him feel braver and better for being different. will reminds mike of who he really is at heart, to him and to all, and lights up all the cold and dark corners of his world. they're each other's anchor: the person they trust to lead them back to themselves when they've wandered astray, and the only ones that know each other well enough to be able to.
they've been this since the first day of kindergarten. it's always been them, and it really and truly is giving: "wasn't that the definition of home? not where you are from, but where you are wanted."
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