#I kinda snorted when I first saw the message | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theemporium · 2 months

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[3.3k] a friendship begins to blossom between you and luke as he begins to feel more settled in new jersey. the jump from college was intense, but he was somewhat glad he had a supportive group around him. and maybe his makeout sessions with you were a great stress relief too. (less smut and more heated makeout)

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cherry🍒: i don’t believe you can cook

cherry🍒: sounds fake tbh

Luke snorted to himself, his lips twitching upwards as he stared at your message. You had sent it at some point during practice, continuing the conversation the two of you had been having the night before.

The irony wasn’t lost on him.

Less than two weeks ago, he was practically dry heaving on the ice at the idea of meeting up with you and now there hadn’t been a day the two of you had gone without talking.

He didn’t even text his brothers this much when they were apart, and now he was practically glued to his phone whenever he got the chance—something Jack loved to point out.

Pre-season training was intense, he expected as much when he entered the NHL. Both his brothers had warned him about it, too. He just hadn’t realised how intense it was going to be, or how big the jump between college to professional hockey would be.

And he didn’t realise how much more he would be eating.

Jack had found it fucking hilarious. He continuously chirped his little brother for always having a snack in his hand. Whether it was in their apartment, on the road or in the locker room, Jack would be the first to laugh, teasing him about being a ‘growing boy’. The rest of the team were a little more sympathetic, but that didn’t stop them from making some jabs themselves.

It meant that Luke had to adapt, meaning he had to learn to cook more meals beyond the three staples that had got him through college when he wasn’t relying on any meal plans. And it meant he was getting pretty fucking good at it too, much to his own surprise.

hockey boy: i cook so well, you’re just jealous

He paused, his shirt still half-hanging around his neck as he saw you typing.

cherry🍒: prove it then

Luke grinned.

hockey boy: i’m about to blow your mind with my steak subs

He felt a rush of anxiety—a good kind, for once—when he saw the bubbles show up on his screen again. He waited, anticipating your response. He had practically forgotten about the fact he was standing in the locker room, half-dressed after practice until he heard someone calling his name.

“Luke!”

His head snapped up, turning to find that most of the boys had already left. There were a few stranglers, still packing up their stuff with no real rush. But it was Nico who had called his name.

“Uh, yeah?”

“You free to talk?” Nico asked, a kind smile on his face like the other boys on the team had always said. It was hard to feel anything but welcomed by the Swiss. “After you’ve changed.”

“Oh,” Luke glanced down at his phone, seeing a notification that you had replied but quickly shoved his phone down on his bag. “Like, right now? Because I kinda had some plans—”

“It will be quick,” the older man assured him.

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat and smiled a little. “Yeah, I’m free.”

Luke moved pretty quickly after that, ignoring his phone as he quickly changed back into the sweatpants and hoodie he had thrown on this morning when Jack had banged on his door at some ungodly, early hour. He shoved most of his things into his bag, trying to act like he felt completely normal and stress-free about a one-on-one conversation with his captain.

He tried to act nonchalant as they made their way to the lounge area where some players crash before or after a practice. Fridges and shelves were stocked with a variety of trainer-approved snacks and protein shakes, it was probably one of Luke’s favourite rooms recently. But now he felt too on edge to even grab one of the lemon muffins he loved.

“Calm down, you aren’t in trouble,” Nico eventually spoke up, settling down on the couch as he looked at Luke expectantly. “I just wanted to talk.”

Luke cleared his throat, settling down on the couch too. “Yeah, so you’ve said.”

Nico’s lips twitched. “How are you finding Jersey?”

“It’s good,” Luke nodded.

Nico raised his brows. “Just good?”

Luke blinked. “...really good?”

“Hm,” Nico hummed, but he sounded amused. “Usually I have trouble shutting Jack up, you’re like the opposite.”

Luke laughed a little. “Jack was always the yapper.”

“He’s kinda what I wanted to talk to you about,” Nico added, almost far too casually. He briefly wondered if his captain was waiting for an in to whatever the real reason behind this conversation was.

“Yeah?”

“You know I’m your captain too, right?” Nico asked, and this time he sounded a lot more serious than he did thirty seconds ago. It was how he sounded on the ice, how he sounded on the bench during playoffs last year. He hadn’t seen much of this side of Nico, but he recognised it well.

Luke frowned. “Is this a trick question?”

“No, I—” Nico paused, shaking his head. “I just want you to know that I see you as one of my boys. Not just Jack’s little brother. When I played with my brother, I know sometimes it feels like you’re just…there. In his shadow, sometimes. I just don’t want you to feel like that here.”

Luke relaxed a little. “I don’t—”

“But you’d tell me if you ever did, yeah? I’m your captain too. I want you to know I’m there if you need me, as a captain or a friend.” Nico had a sincere but serious expression on his face, and a small part of it reminded him of Quinn. That warmth and comfort that came from someone a little older, a little more sure of themselves—a true captain.

“I know,” he promised the older boy with a nod.

“Good,” Nico said before his face broke out into a smile. “Do you need a lift home? I told Jack he could go and I could drive you back—”

“No!” Luke blurted out before blinking, seeing Nico’s slightly surprised face at his outburst. “I, uh, meant that I didn’t need a lift. I was just going to get an Uber.”

Nico’s brows furrowed together. “There’s no need, I can drive you back. I know where—”

“No, I just,” he paused, feeling his cheeks heat up in response. “I’m heading to a friend’s house. Not going home. So.”

“I see,” Nico murmured, and there was something shining in his eyes that Luke didn’t fully understand. He wasn’t sure he wanted to understand. “I can drive you to your…friend’s house, if you want.”

And let you watch him get dropped off by his captain? Yeah, he would rather not.

“I’m fine with an Uber, but thanks,” Luke said with a slightly strained smile, only hoping he didn’t look as guilty as he felt. He didn’t even know why his whole body felt on edge, he knew he was doing nothing wrong.

But something about the way Nico was staring made him feel like he could see right through him, through everything.

He was almost convinced his captain knew exactly where he was going and why, and that was something Luke didn’t want to think about.

…

“Back off!”

“But I’m hungry!”

“There’s gonna be nothing left if you keep eating everything.”

“But it’s taking so long.”

Luke shot you an exasperated look, though he didn’t bother to hide his smile as you slumped against the counter beside him. “It’s only been forty minutes.”

“I was hungry before you got here,” you defended with a huff.

“And you’ve practically eaten all the cheese I was gonna use,” he retorted.

You crossed your arms over your chest. He tried to ignore how endearing he found the act.

“C’mon, give me five more minutes and your food will be done,” Luke tried again, and he managed to finally crack a small smile from you.

“This better be worth it, Hughes. This is my first meal of the day.”

“I—” Luke frowned a little. “Yeah, we’ll dive into that later.”

You raised your brows, something like amusement painted across your face. “Worried about me, Hughes?”

“At the fact it’s one o’clock and you haven’t eaten a single thing?” Luke pointed out. “Yeah, actually, I am. And I think that is a justified reason.”

You waved him off. “I had coffee.”

His lips parted. “That’s not—”

“Cook for me, Hughes,” you interrupted, a grin stretched across your face as you playfully slapped his ass. “You said you would prove yourself.”

Luke’s cheeks flushed. “You’re bossy.”

“And you like it.”

He didn’t disagree.

…

“Stop looking so smug.”

Luke glanced over at you. “I never said anything.”

“But you have a smug smile on your face.”

“I don’t.” He definitely did. “But I am waiting for you to admit I was right.”

“Fine. You’re a good cook or whatever.”

Luke beamed in response.

He was never an overly confident or arrogant guy, not even on the ice. He knew when he played well, he knew when he made people eat their doubts that the youngest Hughes brother wasn’t as good as the other two. He was never the kind to go fishing for compliments or praise either.

But there was something admittedly satisfying when he got to see that expression on someone’s face, the one they got when he proved them wrong.

Whether it was something as big as proving his high school coach that he was good enough to make it into one of the best college’s hockey team, or as small as proving to you he was a damn good cook, and he made a damn good steak sub.

He didn’t like asking for compliments, but it was nice to receive them. To have that reassurance. To know that maybe he wasn’t as hopeless as he sometimes felt in his own body.

You raised your brows. “What? No cocky follow up?”

Luke shrugged, leaning back into the plush cushions of your couch. The plates and the rest of the dirty dishes had been shoved in the dishwasher, some random old sitcom was playing on the tv and the two of you were sprawled on your couch with your feet on his lap. Not that he was complaining.

It was sweet. Relaxing. Domestic.

Almost like you two were just friends hanging out.

“Not really my thing,” Luke admitted. “You said I was right. That’s enough.”

You tilted your head in interest. “That’s enough?”

He missed the heat in your words, the shift in tone in your voice. His eyes were aimlessly focused on the tv, trying to work out what was going on after he zoned out for a few moments. He missed the way your eyes dragged over his body, lingering on the way his shirt stretched over his shoulders and clung onto his arms.

“Yeah,” he nodded absentmindedly. “Jack is the one who would—oh.”

You grinned at the way he fell silent, as he blinked in surprise at the way you planted yourself in his lap.

“I—” Luke cleared his throat, no further words coming out as you placed your hands on his chest.

“Just wanted to say thank you,” you told him, your eyes following the way you ran your hands over the expanse of his chest, the way his heart thundered under your touch before your fingers traced along his neck. “For cooking for me.”

“Right,” Luke said, swallowing a little.

“Can I say thank you, Luke?”

He nodded.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes,” he rasped, his wide eyes staring up at you. “Please.”

“So polite,” you teased before you leaned down, your fingers fisting the material of his shirt in your hands as you pressed your lips together.

It took Luke a few seconds before he eased into the kiss, into letting you take control as your tongue swiped over his bottom lip. He sunk further into the couch, his hands hesitating a few moments before they rested comfortably on your waist, just like they always did.

And you waited.

You waited for them to move as you deepened the kiss, as your tongue explored his mouth. You waited as your hands ran up and down his chest, feeling the way his body shivered under your touch, at the way your nails lightly raked down his stomach. You waited as you felt his hands squeeze your waist, like he was finally giving in.

But his hands remained where they were.

“Luke,” you murmured, a little breathlessly between kisses. “Move.”

He paused, pulling back as he looked up at you with a confused expression. “What? Like, from the couch?”

You couldn’t help yourself as you snorted. “No, I meant your hands.”

“My hands?” He repeated dumbly.

Your smile softened a little as you reached for his hands, squeezing his wrists tightly. “Your hands are your friends,” you told him, biting back your laugh when you noticed his confusion grow. “There’s more to making out with a girl than kissing her.”

“Right,” he cleared his throat a little. “I knew that.”

“You like it when I touch you, right?”

He nodded.

“So, do the same,” you told him, squeezing his wrists again.

Luke blinked, swallowing hard. “I—”

He quickly closed his mouth, his cheeks flushing as a familiar feeling of embarrassment washed over him. He looked a bit hopeless, and it tugged on your heart strings a little to see him so hesitant.

“You can ask me anything, Luke,” you reminded him, your tone soft and void of anything remotely mocking like he almost expected. “I won’t judge.”

His eyes flickered back to your face. “Where…do I touch you?”

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth. “You want me to show you where I liked to be touched, baby?”

He nodded, his face flushing a deeper shade of red.

You never tore your eyes away from his face as you placed your hands over his, trying not to focus on how much bigger they felt than your own. You watched the way his brows furrowed, like he was trying to concentrate as you guided his hands along your waist until they dipped down to cup your ass.

He swallowed. “Is this okay?”

“So okay,” you told him before you leaned down to kiss him again. His hands remained still on your ass and it made you smile against his lips as you prompted him, as you let his hands experimentally squeeze your ass. “Girls like this.”

“O-Okay,” he breathed out.

“Feels nice when you wanna take a bit more control,” you told him, lightly nipping his bottom lip as he let out a choked noise of surprise. “Control the pace.”

“Mhm,” he hummed, his eyes fluttering shut as you began to guide his hands over your body again.

“Sometimes a girl just wants a little more when you’re making out,” you continued to whisper between kisses, taking his hands to the hem of your shirt. You felt him freeze a little beneath you as you guided him under the material of your shirt and softly squeezed his hands in reassurance. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

“Just wanna make you feel good too,” Luke murmured, a little bashful in his admission as his fingers skimmed over the skin of your stomach.

Something inside you twisted, in a good way.

“You’re making me feel good, Luke,” you told him, your lips grazing his as you spoke, as you continued to move his hands further up your body. “Just doing exactly what I tell you. Such a good boy, such a fast learner.”

“Shit,” he breathed out as you rested his hands over your tits. He paused for a moment before giving them an experimental squeeze, finding the smile you gave him in response much more rewarding than anything else.

“That’s it, baby, just gotta be a little more confident,” you murmured before you dipped your head down, finally pressing your lips against his again.

And yeah, it was a little awkward at first when you dropped your hands from his. You were kissing him, your tongue swiping against his and his hands were just lingering on your tits like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

But then you rolled your hips against his, snapping him out of whatever brain fog he was lost in and he decided to just let himself sink into it. To just let his instincts take over. To trust the fact you would help him if he was doing something wrong.

And, fuck, Luke thought he might have to listen to his instincts more often if these were the results he got.

One of his hands slipped back down to your waist, to keep you on his lap as the other squeezed your tit over the fabric of your bra. You keened under the touch, almost panting against his lips between kisses as you gripped his shoulders. And then his other hand moved lower, moved to cup your ass and squeeze until he was helping you rock against him.

Your nails dug into his skin, but the pain was dull and desirable. It showed him that you were enjoying this, that you were enjoying the way he pawed at your tits and squeezed your ass. It showed him that maybe he did just need some confidence, to just trust that sometimes he would just instinctively know what to do.

His head dipped a little as your pants became heavier and the kiss was harder to continue. He tucked his face into the crook of your neck, experimentally mouthing along your skin until he found a spot at the base of your neck that made you shiver under his touch.

He slowly ran his tongue along the spot, smiling a little when your fingers moved to grip his curls and tug a little. His teeth grazed the spot, a small voice in the back of his head wanting nothing more than for him to wrap his lips around the spot and suck until—

RING! RING! RING!

Both of you jumped at the shrill of the phone echoing through the room, both of his hands dropping to your waist to hold you tightly before you fell on your ass. His eyes snapped over to where his phone sat on the coffee table and groaned when he realised who was calling him.

“For fuck’s sake,” Luke grumbled, eyes narrowed on his phone as he watched Jack’s call ring on until it stopped.

“For someone who was desperate to get you laid, he sure knows how to ruin a moment,” you commented, though your voice was amused and lighthearted.

“I told him I’d be back later,” Luke huffed out. “I don’t know why—”

He was cut off by his phone buzzing again. And then again. And then again. He sighed deeply as he reached over, not moving you off his lap—and you made no move to slide off either, so he wasn’t complaining. He swiped, unlocking his phone as his brother’s messages came through.

jack attack: yo how did the thing with nico go?

jack attack: also idc what you said, we are having a birthday party for you and the boys agreed

jack attack: bring your lady friend ;)

Luke groaned a little, rolling his eyes and locking his phone instead of replying.

“Not a fan of parties?”

“Not a fan of Jack’s parties—especially ones that are three weeks after my actual birthday,” Luke corrected, his lips twitching downwards as his hands rested casually on your waist. “He tends to be a little…”

“Much?” You supplied.

“Yeah,” Luke snorted. “He also said he wanted me to invite you.”

You raised your brows. “Do you want me there?”

He raised his brows in response. “Do you want to come?”

“I’ll never say no to a party,” you said with a smile that was anything but innocent, leaning down until your lips were brushing his. “Plus, it’s your birthday. I think you deserve a little treat.”

Luke gulped a little. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you grinned before kissing him, whilst his whole body flushed at the implications of your words.

jack attack: i know you read my texts

jack attack: stop fucking and reply, asshole!!

#luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #luke hughes smut #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl smut

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kairoot · 6 months

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the hide my bfs here prank one with jay is so real 😭😭 i cant wait to see the break up one 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 hopefully u don’t plan on making it too angsty or anything :00

enhypen, break-up prank ꒰♡︎꒱ . ⁺

genre: fluff, a little emotional but not too angsty!

warnings: mentions of ending a relationship, nothing too much, jay’s is a text message oneshot

requested: yes!

pairing: enha x gn!reader

author’s note: of course, i didn’t plan for this to be too angsty, mainly all jokes! 😽💕

🔖 — heeseung.

instantly turns into a confused Bambi

doesn’t take you seriously at first

but then he’s kinda worried

a rollercoaster of emotions tbh

esp after you tell him it’s a prank

heeseung had noticed that you were acting weird all day. whenever he went to kiss you you didn’t kiss back, or when he talked to you your responses were short. he wasn’t sure what it was.

as he entered the room, he saw you sitting at the edge, scrolling through movies on the tv.

he sat on his knees in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“love?” he called, your gaze not on him but you could feel his on you. you gave a half-hearted hum, eyes still on the tv.

“is there something wrong?”

“hee,” you started, putting the remote down. “i think we should break up.”

his heart sunk for a moment. that was so random, you weren’t serious right?

“babe,” he laughed a bit, taking your hand in his. “seriously, what’s wrong?”

you finally look down at him, a sour look on your face. his expression changed, doe eyes now sparkling up at you.

“did I.. did I do something?”

the prank didn’t last very long since you weren’t able to resist the look in his eyes.

“oh, baby,” you wrapped your arms around him, cooing. ok, now he was really confused..

“i was joking honey, i can’t leave you.”

that made his insides all fuzzy. but he was still indeed, confused.

🔖 — jay.

confused pt2

esp when you call him by his first name

is lowkey upset

he’s in denial

cause how are you gonna try to break up with THE park jongseong??

over text too??!

will not let you “break up” with him

🔖 — jake.

might actually break down in tears

he’s a bit emotional guys

is literally going through a list of things he did in his day to check if he did anything wrong

shut him up with kisses please before he starts panicking

definitely don’t try this prank on him again

“hey, babe-“ jake sat next to you on the couch, going in for a kiss. he stopped his sentence though, when you dodged the smooch he was about to give you.

“jake, omg this is why i wanna break up with you.” you playfully rolled your eyes. his turned into puppy ones, now leaning away from you slowly.

“w-what? did i do something? am i being too touchy? clingy? did i forget to put the seat down? did-“

he began to rant before you grabbed his face in both of your hands and brought your lips to his soft plump ones.

he made a confused noise but still melted into the kiss.

“I’m confused.” his words were muffled by your lips still on his, his hands coming to rest where yours remained on the sides of his face.

“i can never prank you.”

🔖 — sunghoon.

smug.

knows you’re not serious

cause once again, how are you gonna leave HIM?

does not take you seriously

“hoon, we should end this.” you said to him, leaning on the countertop in your kitchen. he stood at the stove, attempting to make dinner for the both of you.

“what, me trying not to burn dinner?” he chuckled a bit, that deep laugh making your cheeks warm. you tried not to get distracted by his charm and continue with the prank.

“no, our relationship.”

he snorted, not sparing you a glance, “y/n, please.”

“what?”

“you love me way too much to leave me. i’m just too handsome and lovable.” he shrugged, continuing to stir around dinner in his pan.

“you’re no fun, sunghoon.”

🔖 — sunoo.

ok?

then leave?

will not complain 😹

only cause he knows you’re not serious

if you were, he’d obviously talk to you abt it

but because he’s not fooled by your little jokes anymore he’s like fine 🤷🏽‍♀️

“sunoo, we should break up.”

“okay.” he responded from the sofa, scrolling through his phone. he didn’t even look up at you, just shrugging his shoulders when he answered.

“okay?” your mouth was agape as you laughed a bit.

“mhm. bye-bye.” he waved somewhere in your direction, still not looking up from his phone.

“SUNOO, YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO FIGHT FOR ME.”

“nah, im good.”

🔖 — jungwon.

is like wtf

wdym break up

what did he do?

lowkey has a hard time processing what you just said

you walk side by side with jungwon up to the library the two of you would be studying at. you stopped outside of the door, a faux pout on your face.

“what’s wrong, love?” jungwon stopped to look at your face as your gaze seemed to be on the ground.

you turned to him, “wonie, we need to break up.”

“what?” his eyebrows furrowed below his beanie. he shifted on one foot, eyes still on you as he tried to process the words that escaped your lips. the words he never, ever wanted to hear.

“we have to break up.”

“y/n, did you seriously bring me all the way here just to tell me that?” now he sounded irritated, his jaw clenching.

you finally looked up to see his expression, actually feeling bad now.

“no, baby, im just joking.” you hid your giggle with a small smile, wrapping your arms around his torso.

he sighed, shaking his head while mirroring your smile. he placed a hand on your head while the other came to wrap around you.

“come on, we’ve got some studying to do.”

🔖 — ni-ki.

wants to take you serious when he sees your face but he just can’t

ki is the prank master, he can see right through your little jokes

is like, “you? wanna leave me? yea ok 😹”

clowns you 100%

ni-ki plops on your bed, ready to share different details about your day when he notices your expression.

“what?” he lifts his head, propping himself on his elbows.

you sigh, not looking up, “i wanna break up.”

there was a loud silence before it was interrupted by ni-ki’s loud laugh. he cackled for a good while, grasping his stomach as you looked at him like he was crazy.

“are you really laughing right now?”

“i-im sorry, it’s just-“ he snorted, laughing even harder this time. you sat there, arms folded. you could never fool someone who could pull pranks better than you.

⟢ milan’s notes: another short reaction im sorry 😞

taglist: @haechansbbg @contyynishimura (message or comment to be added)

#kairoot #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen reactions #enha x reader #enha scenarios #enha fluff #enha

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goosewriting · 2 years

Text

Just a little tipsy, I swear (rottmnt x reader)

summary: the turtles discover how clingy you get after drinking one too many.

relationship: Rise Leo, Raph, Mikey, Donnie x GN reader (separate)

warnings: mentions of alcohol, fluff, maybe secondhand embarrassment? lol please read the reader and turtles as aged up to what the legal drinking age is where you live! F/n = friend’s name.

word count: 3.2k

A/N: tysm for the request! hope i made it justice :) also sorry Leo’s is longer than everyone else’s,, can you tell who my fave is? sdfsdf

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

– – –

It had been a while since the turtle had heard from you; the last couple text messages you had left on read. He knew you were at a party with your friends, and had insisted you tell him when you went home so he could accompany you. It was 3am already and still no news from you. He was starting to get a little worried.

Just as he took out his phone to message you again, the device rang in his hand, your name appearing on the screen.

🔵 Leo

“Y/n! What’s up, you having fun?” Leo greeted you after picking up the call.

He didn’t get an answer however; he just heard you giggling and some shuffling sounds.

“..Hello, you okay?” he tried again.

“‘m ready for pick-up” you slurred. He snorted at how wasted you sounded.

“On my way, send me your location. You still at the party?”

“Yessir” you answered, blinking at your phone, trying to find the option to share your current location. Instead you turned on your front camera.

Leo laughed at your face, how you squinted at the screen, not quite comprehending why you were seeing yourself.

“How much did you drink?” he laughed.

You counted on your fingers, thinking hard, but lost count at 7 and just shrugged at him.

“Just stay there okay? I’ll be right there!” Leo grabbed swords, ending the call.

Within seconds a portal opened a couple metres behind you, and through came your favourite turtle.

You hadn't seen him yet, and as he was approaching you, his phone pinged: it was you texting him, saying how much you missed him, and that you needed cuddles, and he should hurry.

On one side he found it very cute how clingy you seemed; it was the first time he saw you this drunk.

On the other side a mischievous grin formed on his face as he was already planning how to get the most out of it, probably take some pics or videos to embarrass you tomorrow with.

You were waiting outside your friend’s house where the party was still going hard. Music and flashing lights could be seen and heard from the street.

You were waiting leaning onto a tall planter by the sidewalk.

Leo approached you, greeting you with a peck to the cheek. You leaned into his touch.

“I missed youu~” you whined and hugged him. “Next time we gotta ‘ave a biiig party in the lair”.

“Yeah yeah, we can have a one next time” he said, patting your head.

“This party doesn’t seem over though? Were you not feeling well?” he said, pointing at the house still in full rave mode.

“It wasn’t fun without you there” you mumbled into his plastron. “Wanted to see your face”.

He blushed at the loving smile you were giving him. How could you still look this good in such an alcoholised state?

“Well, here I am” he finally said and tried to separate you from him, but you only hugged him tighter. “We gotta get you home tho. You’re pretty wasted.”

“I am not” you scoffed, taking a step forward to prove how sober you were, and immediately losing your balance.

If it weren’t for Leo who effortlessly caught you mid-air, you’d have landed face-first into the ground.

You grabbed onto him for dear life, and he wasn’t really complaining.

Since you were kinda not really able to walk, he picked you up bridal style as he made a portal leading just outside of your place.

You didn't even notice you were already home; holding onto him you kept telling him how much you loved him, how good he looked, how strong he was, etc etc

He soaked it all up like a freaking sponge. His ego was through the roof, and he even encouraged you to shower him with more compliments with “You really think so?”s and “How come?”s.

After some minutes, he tried to set you down so you could both climb through the window, but you didn’t let go.

“Y/n please, we can’t both fit through at the same time. Can you stand?”

But you were in full koala mode, shaking your head and holding on tighter.

He sighed; you’d really be the death of him.

Making yet another portal, he got both of you inside.

Finally arriving at your bedroom he gently set you down onto the bed with a grunt.

Leo had to fight you for a couple seconds to pry your arms from his shoulders. Had you always been this strong?

“Noo, don’t go” you whined, holding his hand.

“I’ll just get you some water, I’ll be right back”. Picking out your PJs from the dresser, he set them next to you on the bed. “Meanwhile change into these.”

Leo left to get you your water; he brought a pitcher and a glass, as well as some aspirins.

As he set everything down on your nightstand, he saw you had managed to change but your shirt was on backwards, the tag sticking out under your chin.

You were lying with your legs to the side, dangling off the bed, your torso contorted in an angle that could not have been comfortable, your hair and arms sprawled all over.

Leo took a couple pics from different angles, holding in his laugh. The idea came to him to get a marker and scribble something on your face, but you suddenly shot up, sitting on the bed.

“What is it? Do- Do you need a bucket or something?” he feared you were gonna be sick, already standing up.

But you only exhaled in relief when hearing his voice.

“No, ‘s okay. Thought you were gone” you lied down on your back again and scooted over, patting the space beside you.

“Will you stay with me a while?” you asked, your voice no louder than a whisper, and Leo felt like he combusted on the spot.

The way you looked so enticing right now, all he wanted was to devour you whole. But you were in no state for that.

Getting comfortable next to you, you tucked your face into the crook of his neck.

“I really did miss you. Wish we could hang outside more. There’s so much to see and do”.

“Really, like what?” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Like, hot dogs. And Pretzels. Deep dish pizza.”

“I think there’s more to New York than food. Are you hungry?” he chuckled softly, but you didn’t answer. You were already fast asleep, your even breathing fanning over his plastron.

“Good night Y/N” Leo kissed the top of your head and pulled up the covers over you both. He made a mental note to take you out on a picnic date sometime soon.

🔴 Raph

“Y/n! Is everything okay?” Raph asked, his voice laced with worry.

“Hey big guy~” you slurred. He blushed at the unexpected tone. “‘m ready to go home.”

“On my way! Just stay where you are okay? I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

Instead of a response he heard an “Oof!” followed by a crash and your groaning.

“Y/n! Are you okay? What happened?”

“…Fell.”

“Are you hurt? Just- Stay where you are and don’t move. Got it?”

“Aye aye captain” you saluted, forgetting that he couldn't see you.

Before heading out, Raph quickly grabbed the first aid kit.

He was so worried it only took him 10 minutes to get where you were.

He found you on the front lawn of your friend’s house where the party was still going loud.

You had taken the “don’t move” to heart: there you lied, face-down in the grass, a broken vase next to you.

“Why are you on the ground, you’ll get a cold!” he scolded you as he picked you up.

Turning you around he saw your tears streaming down your cheeks, to which he panicked.

“Are you hurt somewhere?” he frantically checked over your body, looking for any injuries. “Please say something?”

“It isn’t the fall that hurt” you finally whined. He tilted his head in confusion.

“Was it your pride?” he asked sympathetically, but also with a chuckle.

“Nooo” you whined again, wriggling in his hold. God, you looked so cute right now.

Raph wiped some mud off your cheeks, asking “Where then?”

“Here” you answered, hitting your chest twice with your fist over where your heart would be.

“Huh? Did someone say something?” Raph questioned, 100% ready to storm into that house and throw hands.

“My friends don’t believe me you exist” you said and wiped your dirty sleeve over your face in an attempt to dry your tears, instead spreading more grass and mud over your face.

“You know I can’t exactly waltz into a room of humans” Raph said sheepishly and rubbed his neck, but deep inside he knew what you meant. He also wished he could take you out to ‘normal’ dates and places like restaurants, and not just ones in the Hidden City.

“I knooow, but sill” you continued whining, this time lightly hitting his plastron with your fists.

“I just wish I could show them what an amazing, thoughtful, strong and handsome boyfriend I have! Who cares if you’re a giant turtle? I don’t!” you explained, trying to stand on your own but failing, falling right back into Raph’s chest.

His gaze softened and he chuckled, endeared at how open you were being about him. Maybe he’d have to get you to drink more often, just in a safer space.

“Alright, let’s get you home then.”

He picked you up effortlessly and carried you all the way home.

All the while you kept holding onto him and peppering his face in kisses here and there.

Once you both arrived, you climbed through your window first, stumbling to your living room, where you opened the balcony door for him.

You kept whining about how he was the best boyfriend and no one believed you because they hadn’t seen him.

Meanwhile he was wiping the dirt off of you, answering with “Uh-huh”s and “I know”s here and there.

When he finally managed to get you changed and tucked you into your bed, he got you something to drink.

You gulped down the glass of water, and intently looked at him with half asleep eyes.

“What is it Y/n? Do you need anything else?” he asked, and you took his big hand in yours.

“Stay the night.” you finally said, it was more of an order rather than a question.

Still you were giving him the most adorable puppy eyes he had seen you make yet.

Engraving this moment into his memory, Raph chuckled.

“I’ll shred your bed to pieces if I get in there with you” he admitted sadly.

“Let’s make a fort then.”

And with that you hopped out of bed, losing your balance once or twice on your way to the living room.

You dragged some blankets and all the pillows you could find in front of the couch.

It looked more like a nest than a fort but it still looked inviting.

You got in there, cosying up, and patted the space next to you.

Raph lied down behind you. You liked being the small spoon; it made you feel safe and warm in his arms.

Turning around one last time you kissed him tenderly.

“Thanks for always putting up with me” you whispered and wished him a good night.

“Anytime, sweetheart” he responded, and you were both quickly pulled into dreamland, lulled into sleep by each other’s heartbeats.

🟠 Mikey

“Yellow~?” Mike answered the phone.

“Mikeyyy~” you whined.

“Yes Y/n?”

No response. Just some giggling.

Then some shuffling sounds and laughter in the background.

“Is this Y/n’s S/O?” an unknown voice asked.

“Yeah, what’s going on? Are they ok?” Mikey started to panic a bit.

“They’re fine, just wasted. Can’t even walk in a straight line.”

“I’m not! Just a lil’ tipsy is all” he could hear you retort in the background.

“They’re more than a ‘little tipsy’. I’ve never seen them this drunk, it’s kinda hilarious to be honest- No! Y/n! Get out of the aquarium!” Mikey heard some laughing and splashing. Just what was going on?!

“I’ll be there in 15 minutes! Just, keep an eye out for them please? Thank you!” Mikey said and your friend agreed to have them at the door by the time he arrived.

He hurried to get to the house the party was at, it was probably the place of the person on the phone.

Hiding behind some bushes first, he saw you coming out the door. You spotted him and waved, saying your goodbyes to your friends.

Once they were out of sight he walked towards you, and just in time, because you very non-elegantly fell down the few steps on the porch.

He caught you by your waist, and you let him hold your whole weight, because your legs had just decided to stop working.

“Hmm” you hugged him and talked like you were telling him a secret. “I don’t think I can walk.”

“Yeah, you don’t say” Mikey laughed and picked you up.

That’s when he noticed your left arm and leg were wet up to your elbow and knee.

“So, I take it you had fun?” he asked as he started the trip to your home.

“Yiiiis” you giggled. “F/n has an aquarium! With a turtle, I swear it looks just like you, it’s so cute”.

You started crying remembering just how adorable the little reptile was.

“But not as cute as me, right?” Mikey asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

When you didn’t answer, he gasped in mock offense.

You laughed through your tears. “Of course you’re the cutest. The handsomest. The bestest.” Between every wrongly declined adjective, you gave Mikey a kiss on the tip of his snout. “But the other turtle’s a close second.”

He giggled and kissed your nose as well.

You were especially cute when drunk, he noted.

Having arrived at your place he considered if he should stay a bit longer to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself.

“Can you walk now?” he asked, setting you down. Your bones were jelly and you just crouched on the ground.

“Yes” you said confidently, when clearly you could not.

“Alright” he laughed and helped you climb through the window.

He turned on the small lamp on your desk, at which you hissed and covered your face.

“Let’s get you ready for bed” he said and guided you to the bathroom to change into something dry, and to clean yourself from the faint aquarium smell you had.

Once you were in your PJs he took you to your bed, but you didn’t let go.

“Y/n, you need to sleep” he said, tugging at your arms, but you were holding onto him for dear life.

“Noo” you whined. “Stay the night. I’ll be lonely without you.”

You were looking up at him with so much love, your cheeks adorned with a blush. How could he say no?

“Scoot over” he finally gave in and you giggled in glee, making room for him.

But being next to Mikey wasn’t close enough for you, so you climbed on top of him.

“You comfortable up there?” he chuckled, to which you nodded your head and sighed contentedly.

Mikey’s arms snaked around your waist and he kissed the top of your head.

“Good night Y/n~” he whispered, but you were already fast asleep.

🟣 Donnie

“Well, look who finally decided to pick up the phone” Donnie said in mock offense; he was clearly glad you finally gave some life signal.

“I- I think ’m lost” you slurred your words.

“Wha- Wait. Did you leave without me? I told you to wait at your friend’s until I came to pick you up” Donnie scolded you, earning a whine from you, as he was typing frantically into his computer.

“Can you describe where you are or what you see?” he asked, but he was already pulling up your location on his screen. He could both track your phone and the subcutaneous tracker he had put on you, just as on his brothers, because better safe than sorry, right?

“Uhm- I’m in the United States. I think. Everything is spinning around, wee~” you giggled.

Donnie groaned as his GPS triangulated your location. It beeped and showed where you were standing: behind him.

“What-“ he started and spun around, only to see you wobbling into the lair.

Donnie hung up the phone and walked towards you.

“Hello? Hellooo~?” you spoke into the phone.

Seeing he had hung up, you started wailing softly.

“I’m right here” he sighed and gently grabbed you by the shoulders, stabilising you.

“I thought you ‘ere gonna leave me” you cried, holding back your sobs.

“Why would you think that? I would never- oomph!” you let your phone and bag/purse fall to the ground, hugging him tightly.

“Y/n, work with me, please” Donnie said, noticing how you were kinda just hanging from his neck, letting him support your whole weight.

He tapped your thigh, indicating for you to lift your legs, and picked you up.

Your legs went around his hips, and he held you by your thighs.

Donnie carried you to his room while you sniffled into his bandana, staining it in tears and probably a bit of snot.

“How much did you drink anyways?” he asked you, trying to set you down onto his bed, but you weren’t letting go.

“Jus’ a lil’ bit”, you lied, remembering the beers and shots you took one after another, your memories becoming fuzzy after your friend had brought a huge bottle of a mysterious blue-greenish liquid.

“Can you please let go Y/n” he sighed. “You need to sleep, and I need to work.”

You shook your head, making you slightly dizzy.

“I wanna stay with you” you said into his plastron.

Donnie took a deep breath and exhaled, readjusting your weight in his hold.

“Fine. But you better not complain over how hungover you’re tomorrow, you hear me?”

“Promise~” you happily said and kissed his cheek.

He entered his lab, you immediately hissing at the bright lights.

“You sure you wanna stay?” he smirked. You only nodded your head, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

Donnie sat down at his table, with you straddling him, and adjusted your body so his arms were under yours, and he could look over your shoulder. It wouldn’t be easy but he’d be lying if he didn’t like feeling your weight and warmth on him like this.

“I’ll try to finish quickly so we can go to bed okay?” he pecked the side of your face and went back to work.

You sighed happily into his neck and mumbled sweet nothings to him.

He couldn't make out everything but he did catch some “I love you”s and “You’re the best boyfriend”.

With a light blush and a soft smile adorning his face, he finished up his work quickly, leaving most of it for tomorrow, so he could have you cuddle him to sleep.

#goose feathers #rottmnt #save rottmnt #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt raph x reader #rottmnt mikey x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #tmnt x reader #el-chiste

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britcision · 1 year

Text

OKAY FRIENDOS

This chapter fucking fought me, not least because I wasn’t actually sure what exactly Danny wanted out of meeting Waylon… and then I realised that was because Danny wasn’t sure either

I did consider just letting this one run long and posting in two parts when all was said and done, but this was where I’d have had to break the chapter in two for Tumblr anyway, and it’s actually a really good place to end… so one more chapter for Waylon!

And then tumblr mobile decided not to let me fucking paste the chapter in, and I am fucking DYING with the laggy piece of shit that is the mobile website. I crave death. Let me join the boys.

First Chapter and AO3:

Previous Chapter:

——————

A Good Excuse To Be A Bad Influence

Jason wasn’t exactly expecting to roll up to Danny’s dorm to thumping stripper music, and yet as he turned off the bike… that was definitely what was happening.

Flicking the visor up, he soon caught sight of the cause, a visibly frazzled Danny hurrying over. His pocket seemed to be having an independent party that Danny himself was not invited to.

“I have sinned against the almighty Tucker and am being punished for my crimes with an endless loop,” he explained flatly without being asked.

Jason snorted, reaching back to unhook the new helmet from the back of the bike and hand it out.

“Oh? And what did you do to upset his highness?” He teased, a smile tugging across his lips in spite of himself.

In spite of the certain knowledge that Tim would absolutely be latching onto this form of punishment the second he found out.

He’d not really felt like smiling since he got in last night, yet the second he saw Danny his anger eased.

Didn’t hurt that the pit was practically vibrating in smug satisfaction, clearly appeased that he also wouldn’t let them be kept apart. But there was still an open happiness all Jason’s own in watching his new friend suffer.

Danny sighed, pulling out a heavily wrapped sock-sausage that eventually contained his phone, and scrolled to show Jason some messages.

Jason scanned through them quickly, because the music was fucking loud entirely unmuffled, then passed the phone back to be reburied.

“You knew what you were doing,” he told Danny entirely unsympathetically, and Danny snickered.

“Sometimes he needs to be told when he’s being a dramatic bitch. So were you there for the whole,” he waved a hand vaguely, the other stuffing his phone back into his pocket.

Which meant Jason had to think about the cave again. And the phone call he’d gotten an hour after ignoring Bruce’s summons.

:::

Jason was actually on his way to bed on time for once in his life, the early end to patrol and lack of crime lord duties giving him a chance to get a full five hours sleep.

He should have known he wouldn’t get lucky two nights in a row; Constantine wasn’t around to distract Bruce anymore.

He’d contemplated not answering. Contemplated trying not to shoot Bruce in half an hour if the fucker showed up at his window.

The pit growled.

It was the worst thing he’d ever heard. The worst thing he’d ever felt. And he did feel it, vibrating in his very bones.

It sent shivers creeping up and down his spine, muscles tensing as if to run away from something inside him.

He answered the call, hoping it wouldn’t show in his voice.

“What.” Flat, unfriendly. Not encouraging conversation.

“You didn’t come to the cave.” B’s voice was equally flat, but in his case it sounded like a condemnation. An accusation.

Jason gritted his teeth.

“I have shit to do in the morning. Make it quick,” he snapped, giving his bed a glare it definitely didn’t deserve.

His pillows had never done anything to hurt him.

There was a momentary pause before B audibly decided not to push it.

Good.

Jason was in a mood to bite.

“We have intel on the Infinite Realms. I’ve sent the report. You need to stay away from Danny Fenton, for your health,” B said, still cold, still clinical.

Like he didn’t care. Like what Jason wanted didn’t matter.

Jason’s grip tightened and the phone case cracked.

“Yeah, no. Fuck off.” He spat the words, adding “get new phone” to his list of chores for the morning.

He’d been doing so well with this one. Of course B had to ruin it.

At least the old man didn’t seem surprised by his reaction.

“Jason. It… he. His abilities may affect your condition,” he said slowly, sounding tired. Old.

The pit snarled, sensing weakness, and Jason kinda wished he was still lost in its rage. Back when he was, it was easy just to hate those moments.

B showing signs of humanity fucking hurt.

“He is. He’s making it better,” he shot back, brooking no argument.

“We don’t know that, Jason. Please, just… just for a few days. Until we can talk to the League, understand what he’s doing to you.”

Was.

Was that Bruce begging?

It froze something small and soft in Jason’s chest, stuck him in place. And did nothing to stop the flood of icy rage from filling him up.

Filling his chest, crushing his lungs, making it hard to breathe. Because of course, anyone and everyone else’s judgement was worth more to the man than Jason’s.

Begging Jason to listen to him, when he would never, ever, fucking ever listen to Jason. When it didn’t fucking matter if Jason begged.

“And why the fuck would the League know better than a doctor from the Realms?” He finally snapped, ignoring the way his throat tightened.

There was a long silence.

“A doctor?” Bruce asked softly, his voice still so flat and emotionless that only his kids could have read the confusion. Jason rolled his eyes.

“Danny brought me to a doctor. I’m gonna be fine,” he ground out reluctantly, part of him resenting Bruce’s constant insistence on knowing everything.

But… well. If it got the guy off his fucking back.

There was a long silence, one that Jason was fully aware B was likely spending working this new information into his latest paranoid fantasy.

Jason seriously considered just hanging up and going to bed. He was about to do it when Bruce spoke again.

“Would this doctor be willing to speak to the League?” And there it was again, Batman voice, clinical and distant and always, always fucking suspicious.

Jason rolled his eyes harder. With emphasis. Willing to be interrogated by first the Justice League and then separately also goddamn Batman.

Actually, now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure B wouldn’t get anywhere with Frostbite. Frostbite took his work seriously and was, yeah, king of a full realm of yetis.

None of Bruce’s pointed silences, menacing looming, or vague growls would bug the guy who got Danny through Fucked Up Ghost Puberty.

(And would probably be helping Jason through his own Fucked Up Ghost Puberty… joy of joys.)

It might actually be fun to see him try. If just being here wouldn’t put Frostbite in danger, because hell fucking no that wasn’t happening. The guy may not be his king but Jason would still die first.

But of course, in all his paranoid bullshit about the Realms influencing Gotham, B had somehow conveniently missed what America was doing to the Realms.

Like Jason hadn’t even done the full write up.

“Not while the fucking League are required to hand him right to the US government for torture and experimentation. Which, by the way, did you read my report on the Anti Ecto Acts?” Jason asked sarcastically, doing his very worst fake concern.

And again he was met with silence. Fuck, maybe Bruce hadn’t read it. Jason had dropped it in the day before all this gala bullshit had started, and it had been a busy two days since.

Maybe B deadass hadn’t put the pieces together. Might as well hammer it home for him.

“You know, the one that says you, me, Cass, and Damian are all non-sentient because we’ve been exposed to the pits?” Jason added, eyes narrowing.

Which wasn’t technically true, since it was the resulting liminality and ability to process ectoplasm that made them count, but Bruce didn’t need to know that yet.

Finally he spoke again, voice gruff and clipped.

“I’m looking into it. But for now, Jason, please-” he said again, the cover of Batman beginning to slip.

But Jason was done. No fucking chance Bruce was giving him orders when he hadn’t even bothered asking for Jason’s opinion.

He wanted to spout off about dangers of the Infinite Realms after talking to some wet paper bag of a man who hawked his soul like it was a pokemon card. Hard pass.

And even after hearing that Jason knew what was going on a damn sight better than Bruce did, he still wanted to push him around?

Fuck that.

“Sorry B, legally non-sentient, guess I can’t be blamed for my actions,” he drawled, then turned his phone off and dropped into bed.

He had a lot of shit to do before picking Danny up in the morning.

:::

Jason shook his head, partially to clear it but also in answer to Danny’s question.

“Hell no. Tim told me he was being a paranoid old fuck again so I went to bed,” he growled, a little surprised by the sudden rush of anger the memory brought.

It must have been strong enough that Danny noticed it, because he could feel Danny’s worry too.

He sucked in a sharp breath, pushing the anger back down. He still hadn’t turned his phone back on.

Actually it might still be beside the bed in his apartment. It didn’t really matter.

Danny took the new helmet from him, leaning up against Jason’s side in a soft wave of comfort-sorry-amused.

Amused?

Before he could ask, Danny had turned the helmet over to look at the visor.

“So I’m guessing, from what we talked about in the car, what Tucker told me, and what you’re not telling me, that Bruce thinks you should be far, far away from me?” He asked innocently.

The pit fucking growled again, raising the hair all along Jason’s neck, and Danny trilled soothingly to it.

Even knowing what to expect, the sudden and complete lack of rage still made Jason shiver.

“Thanks,” he said before Danny could apologise.

For managing Jason’s unstable emotions for him when Jason couldn’t. Although…

If they actually were the pit’s all along, that’d explain why it had been so hard to push through. It was weird that the idea was actually starting to feel comforting.

Danny gave him a slightly relieved grin, nudging back.

“Yeah, well, not like you recently bound your entire soul and afterlife into keeping me safe. Not like either of us know what the fuck that’s gonna mean,” he said, all flippant and glib, and…

Yeah, he’d almost have a point, except Jason had put himself on the chopping block to keep others safe since he was thirteen years old.

He shook his head, chuckling softly.

“Oh, I didn’t get on with the old man long, long before you came into the picture,” he assured Danny with a dry smile, rolling his eyes.

Danny snickered, spinning the helmet and looking “innocently” up to the sky. Whatever the fuck came out of his mouth next, Jason was ready for it to be a doozy.

“Yeah, well… if I’m the bad influence boyfriend your dad wants you to stay away from…” and that sentence alone almost made Jason choke, without even the kicker, “can I drive your motorcycle?”

At least it stopped Jason from coughing. He shot Danny a sudden suspicious glare.

“Do you even know how to drive a motorcycle?” He asked with a full awareness of what the answer would be.

Danny shrugged, giving Jason his best “innocent” smile.

“Definitely motorcycle adjacent?” He offered sweetly. Jason shook his head firmly.

“Nope.”

“Oh come on!” Danny pouted, tossing both hands into the air, his new helmet held tight despite the dramatic gesture.

Jason shook his head again, in case Danny had missed the point.

“Nnnnnnnope,” he drew the word out, popping the p, and Danny rolled his eyes at him.

“It’s not like a crash would kill either of us anyway,” he huffed, and while he may have that kind of confidence in his ghost powers, Jason’s core hadn’t formed yet.

He wasn’t about to fucking risk it.

“That doesn’t mean it’ll be a fun experience. They’re called “donor-cycles” for a reason,” he told Danny archly, definitely not moving from astride his girl while this was “up for debate”.

Glanced back to find Danny staring at him, clearly holding back a snicker.

“That sounds waaay more like something the Disapproving Dad Who Doesn’t Like His Son’s Hot New Motorcycle Boyfriend would say,” he pointed out, rising on tiptoe to rest his chin on Jason’s shoulder.

Jason licked him. Mostly on the cheek.

It was a stupid impulse, the kind he usually didn’t even get with anyone but Dick, and he might have regretted it immediately if it hadn’t fucking worked.

Danny jumped back, cheeks flushing, and while Jason was pretty sure his own had pinked up, well, behind him Danny couldn’t see that.

But he pulled on his helmet just to be doubly sure.

“Yeah, well, protecting your ass includes not letting you kill us both in a fiery wreck. Or maim us,” he added before Danny could voice the protest Jason could clearly taste.

Silence from behind him, and then Danny sighed and pulled his helmet on, climbing aboard behind Jason again. Who decided to throw him a bone.

“I’ll teach you how to drive it first,” he promised, and Danny cheered loudly, thrusting both fists into the air as they pulled out.

Neither really noticed that Danny’s background music had changed to Radar Love.

When they’d finally dragged themselves to bed, Tim had offered to let Tucker use one of the manor’s nearly infinite guest rooms.

They’d picked one out and everything, changed into pyjamas (Tucker borrowed an old pair of Dick’s), and sat on the bed in Tim’s old room talking about technology until they both fell asleep.

Probably around 8am.

Tucker hadn’t had a proper slumber party since leaving Amity Park, but he was kinda getting used to waking up tucked next to a still-sleeping Wayne adoptee when his phone buzzed around 10am.

Foul treachery from Danny. As usual.

Tucker barely woke up, hand crawling from the pile to rest against the PDA, and that was all he needed. His awareness slipped from the device to his phone, always linked.

From his phone to Danny’s. Into Danny’s music app, where he picked a suitable vengeance even as he slipped back into sleep.

Watched Danny through the phone as if it were a dream, easily filtering out the sounds of his own music as Danny flailed around, trying to turn the music off, trying to turn the music down, failing on all counts, and flailing his way out of the dorm.

Down to meet Jason, his phone now buried in six layers of socks that did nothing to stop the music from being heard, or Tucker from watching.

Tucker cranked the volume a little more anyway. The thought had to count for something.

If Danny wanted to call him petty, well, Tucker Foley could redefine “petty” all on his own.

Providing his friends with a semi-mocking soundtrack really was the least of his abilities; he was literally doing it in his sleep.

Honestly, driving in Gotham wasn’t even all that exciting from Danny’s perspective. After being tossed around the GAV despite the seatbelts, a couple of cranky fellow drivers just didn’t register.

If they hadn’t been going through the city, maybe going highway speeds it might have been different, but he’d kind of worked out how loud he had to be to be heard.

By Jason snickering when he screamed at pedestrians.

If they didn’t want to be screamed at they shouldn’t be trying to loom menacingly.

Of course, that just meant now was the perfect time for him to use his new power for evil. Danny flipped his visor up, straining as high as he could to yell to Jason.

“SO, THAT CONSTANTINE GUY?”

There was a sudden click in his ear and he jumped as Jason’s voice came through, quiet and definitely amused.

“There’s a radio in your helmet, Danny.”

Oh.

News to fucking him, he was pretty sure that wasn’t standard in motorcycle helmets, but not from any lived experience. Johnny 13’s dead experiences were a little out of date.

Poking around the sides of his helmet, Danny soon found a button.

“Sweet. Looks like you finally forgot to mention something,” he teased, and heard Jason snort loud and clear.

Didn’t have to hold the button to talk then. Good times. He’d get Tucker to take a look on the way home after he ecto infused it. For now he flipped the visor back down.

“Looks like,” Jason agreed dryly, swerving them around a cluster of traffic.

He wasn’t exactly sticking to the letter of the law, they were definitely half again over the speed limit, but they hadn’t gone on a sidewalk so it was nothing to a Fenton. There was even an empty slot in the lane he merged into.

“So what about Constantine,” he prompted, and while it broke Danny out of his musings, it also reminded him of the exact thing he’d planned to do to make the trip more interesting.

“Oh, I own his soul. Like, a dozen times over,” Danny chirped perkily, grip tightening just before Jason had to slam on the breaks to keep from hitting the car beside them.

They sped off again before the sudden swerve caused comment, and passed a block or two in silence. Then Jason sighed.

“Of fucking course you do that for everything and not just Mariokart.” He mostly sounded resigned, so Danny allowed himself a snicker.

“What, it’s not like we’re gonna die. You’re even still on the road,” he dismissed easily, waving a hand to show just how unconcerned he was.

Did not expect Jason to huff, reach back and grab his hand, and pull it back around himself.

“I’m reconsidering teaching you to drive,” he told Danny flatly, and Danny pouted but took the hint and held on.

“Oh come on, you can’t say that, you haven’t even seen me try!” Danny protested.

Jason made an unimpressed noise.

“Your town’s weather includes reports of if your parents will be on the road.”

Which, by the way, was totally unfair of him, since he’d never have known that if Danny hadn’t told him. Or Tucker hadn’t told Tim.

Same difference.

“My parents, not me,” Danny argued anyway, shrugging, “and it wasn’t their driving that killed me.”

This time he was close enough, snugged tight to Jason’s back, that he felt the guy’s whole body shiver with a loud and rumbling growl. The same growl he’d heard and soothed earlier.

Something had really riled up Jason’s pit ghost.

Danny hummed another quick soothing trill, stroking his aura gently across Jason and his extra passenger.

Sort of trying to do it unobtrusively; he would actually really prefer that they didn’t fully crash. It kinda worked, in that Jason managed to unlock suddenly solid muscles enough for them to make the next turn.

“Sorry,” Danny said quickly, kind of to both of them, “guess Pitty doesn’t like the death jokes today.”

They passed another few buildings in silence, and Danny had definitely noticed by now that they weren’t heading for the manor. Didn’t matter so long as Jason knew where they were going.

Danny waited him out, long enough that he almost wanted to make another joke and lighten the mood. Again though, Jason broke it first.

“Pitty.” He did not sound impressed. But he didn’t feel mad. More what the fuck just came outta your mouth.

Danny gave him a quick squeeze, and almost felt the pit purr.

It was kinda getting stronger the longer they hung out. Technically that probably meant that both cores were making progress.

“Well, technically you probably get to name it, but until you come up with something I’m calling it Pitty,” Danny explained, and rather felt that Jason should be grateful.

Unlike the rest of his family, Jason had seen the full list of how Jack Fenton named things. Danny preferred to think he took after his aunt.

He coulda called it the Fenton Pit Friend or something. Really, it wasn’t hard to think of anything worse.

From his aura, Jason now seemed to be intentionally ignoring him.

Stewing in indignation-disbelief-confused-confused-confused. Well, that was his call.

Anyway.

“Back to Constantine though, I wasn’t kidding. I do actually own his soul,” Danny said casually, since they’d gotten distracted from his previous attempt to make the drive more interesting.

For a moment he wasn’t sure if Jason would rise to the bait this time either, and then another sigh came over the radio.

“Y’know, somehow, that’s the least surprising thing you’ve said. Man sells his soul so much everyone seems to have a chunk,” Jason grumbled, and Danny snickered.

“Oh, pretty much. He’s the Caterpie of human souls. He never made a deal with me directly though,” he added quickly, without being fully sure why.

He was pretty sure Jason wouldn’t jump straight to “Danny is a soul trader”, but honestly he’d gotten used to getting ahead of wilder trains of thought.

“Oh? How’d you get twelve then?” Jason shot back, clearly warming back up to things.

Mission accomplished. Danny grinned.

“Well, previous Ghost King was in nappy time for a couple thousand years, but he had this whole thing about collecting souls to add to his army of thralls, so basically anyone could sign their soul over for a chunk of power. Real charmer,” Danny snorted, rolling his eyes.

It was so far from the worst thing Pariah Dark had ever done, but so far it was definitely the longest lingering annoyance.

“I got the impression,” Jason agreed in pretty much the same tone, prompting Danny to continue.

Which. Yeah. Was more fun than thinking about the mountain of thrall contracts still awaiting their owner’s deaths, which the Observants were still fussing over.

Nobody wanted more thralls, souls wiped clean of everything that made them, well, souls. Just unliving batteries. Even ghosts found them creepy.

On the other hand, there was nothing the Observants loved more than rules. And the rules said a signed contract had to be honoured.

Really they shoulda expected Danny to ask who the fuck signed for Pariah, since he was (again) in nappy time prison. He hoped nobody else died while they sorted that out.

“Danny?”

Ah. Yup, he did it again. Danny shook his head and sighed, kinda missing the wind in his hair. It kept him more present than the enclosed space of the helmet.

“Sorry. So, John Constantine, clever bitch, wrote himself a contract that signed his soul over to the Ghost King, not Pariah Dark. Got through whatever screening was in place no problem, and now he’s my problem.”

A problem that Clockwork had presented Danny with on his fucking birthday no less.

That had been part one of the soul screening process; who was stuck with Pariah by name, and ho boy that was a depressingly long list… and still growing, though it had slowed recently.

News of Pariah losing his crown was slow to spread, and frankly Danny himself could be doing more to help that, except. Well.

Not taking the damn crown himself until he had to. Not wanting to give the creeps of the world anything to call him.

There were a lot of good reasons, okay? And Clockwork had specially singled out Constantine’s contract and delivered it to Danny himself as a birthday present.

“Well, that explains one,” Jason agreed with a snicker, pulling to a stop in front of the police station, “but what about the other eleven times?”

Danny snorted a laugh, sliding off the bike and stretching. As much fun as hugging Jason at high speeds was, he didn’t like being still for too long.

“Tax season,” he explained cheerfully, pulling off the helmet and looking around, “I guess we’re meeting Harley here?”

Snickering to himself, Jason pulled off his own helmet and tucked it into the storage on the back of his bike. Danny passed it over, noting that Jason had also had to get a second little pod for the other helmet.

He wasn’t gonna ask. Maybe they were in storage?

“Yeah, we’re meeting Harley here. Better not to swing by the manor for a while,” Jason added, his expression souring.

Which did make Danny feel a little bad actually. He didn’t want to cause trouble for Jason with his family…

But before he could say anything Jason ruffled his hair roughly, shaking his head.

“It’s not your fault, Danny. This kinda shit happens every other week, Bruce gets on his bullshit and I steer clear. He’ll calm the fuck down eventually and remember to mind his own business,” he explained dryly, nodding towards the doors.

Danny hesitated before moving to follow. It felt true, he could feel Jason’s sincere-exhausted-familiar-still over it clear as day, it just.

“I’m still sorry I wound him up though,” Danny finally decided, heading after Jason up and in. Jason who rolled his eyes and held the door open.

“Danny. He winds himself up. You could be a literal angel and he would not fucking care. You couldn’t unwind him even if you miraculously found the key. We’ve all tried,” Jason said with a sigh, though at least the anger seemed to have burned off into just…

Tired.

Jason just felt tired.

Probably cuz he was off fucking around with Cass last night, but Danny wasn’t about to call him out on it.

Not when they’d just walked into the police station (ew) and the wild sight of Harley Quinn, hair in pigtails and dressed in her signature red and black, sat on the duty officer’s desk with a bat. Filing her nails.

Total silence filled the room, broken only by the swing of the doors opening as Danny and Jason stepped through.

The whole room was watching her in a kind of terrified awe, like she was a particularly dangerous bomb waiting to go off. Danny’d swear they weren’t even breathing.

She looked up as the door opened, grinning broadly at the sight of them and waving in a large, exuberant gesture.

“Oh, there’s my boys! Hey boys!” She called in obvious delight, and half the room flinched.

Didn’t seem to matter that she hadn’t even been in Gotham for ages, let alone being her former roguish self. She had the kind of presence that left a lasting impression.

No wonder Danny liked her. She coulda fit right in with his ghost friends.

Maybe she’d come join them for fight club.

Pulling himself slowly from sleep just a little past noon, Bruce had to admit he was feeling better. The headache had dulled to a low throb but he felt clearer.

More aware of himself, and after a glass of water, more like he could take on the day.

It was far from his first concussion and he was well used to navigating the symptoms over the next few days. So long as he didn’t get any serious memory loss he wasn’t going to worry about it.

He had far more serious things to worry about, but even they seemed more manageable after almost nine hours of sleep.

Honestly… he wasn’t surprised that Jason hadn’t come to the cave. Hadn’t agreed to stay away from Danny when asked.

It had felt like a reasonable request at the time, like the bare minimum of common sense. But they didn’t have that kind of relationship anymore.

Jason didn’t trust him. Didn’t trust Bruce’s judgement, in how to deal with criminals or anything else.

Jason hadn’t been the boy who’d looked to Bruce with such trust, such wonder and awe, even before he’d died.

Sometimes Bruce wondered where he’d gone wrong.

But there was no use dwelling on the past. Bruce would like to re earn Jason’s trust some day, but he wouldn’t ignore their present relationship.

Jason wouldn’t trust that Danny was a danger to him without proof, so Bruce would find that proof, if it existed. Hopefully before Jason’s condition became proof itself.

The first and most obvious step would be to consult the Justice League Dark at today’s meeting, and then make arrangements for this doctor from the Infinite Realms.

He’d have to look into those laws Jason mentioned ahead of the meeting. Perhaps bring them up to Constantine, see how it might affect matters with the Infinite Realms.

A bitter part of him mused that he wouldn’t be surprised if the magician was completely unaware of most international laws, let alone the ones of the various lands he travelled, but still.

The man had been so adamant that the Infinite Realms were completely beyond their ability to handle. That they should cut and run at any cost.

Bruce could hardly imagine he’d be pleased that the US had apparently declared its inhabitants the targets of its newest genocide.

Of course, changing the laws and having them struck down would take time, but Bruce still hoped that the act of beginning might be enough.

Enough for him to visit Jason’s doctor in the Realms or some other neutral ground, since the doctor couldn’t come here.

Jason had said that he would be fine, not that he was already fine. Bruce wouldn’t have believed him if he had, not really; Jason hadn’t been fine since he’d been dunked in those damn pits.

Their poison had stuck with him far longer than anyone Bruce had ever heard of.

Hells, Bruce had had his own dunking. He could just barely remember the rage that had forced itself down his throat, into his lungs as he was brutally thrust back into the land of the living.

He had controlled it, had mastered it quickly, and now it was nothing more than a faint scrap of memory. Even that was still enough to grant his deepest sympathy to Jason’s struggles.

If the rage had never left him…

But no, he decided, going through his morning routine like he was still the young playboy Brucie who never showed his face before 3pm.

There was no point in indulging those thoughts either. He had mastered the pit’s fury, and it released him. For whatever reason, Jason hadn’t.

And now they all had to deal with the consequences.

Still, Bruce let himself hope for the future instead.

If his children were right, if Jason was right… if Danny or this mysterious doctor from the Infinite Realms could help him with the pit rage…

He might one day see that little boy again. The boy who looked at Bruce like he’d hung the stars, who could fly because Robin made him magic.

There was nothing in this world or any other that Bruce wouldn’t give to see Jason whole again. To see him happy.

The United States government were going to learn (again) what it meant to come between the Batman and the safety of his sons.

The Justice League’s meeting would be in another four hours. He had plenty of time to do some research and amend their presentation.

So long as Jason was right.

And speaking of Jason… there was just one other thing he’d like to do this morning. Heaving a sigh while he had the privacy of his room, Bruce pulled up his phone again.

He didn’t quite indulge himself as far as making a face as he punched in Constantine’s number, because concussed or not he was an adult. And he was going to need the man’s help.

Surely Jason wouldn’t object to a single check in with a trusted practitioner?

As the phone rang, Bruce once again cursed the circumstances that kept Zatanna off world. He was about 75% sure that Jason actually liked her.

But maybe the extent to which Constantine annoyed Bruce would also cheer him up.

The call went through, and Bruce snapped his wandering attention back. Maybe he’d take the rest of the day off after the meeting. Heal up a little more.

Alfred would be proud.

“Constantine. A moment of your time before the meeting?” It even sounded like a question, not a command. Sleep really had done him a world of good.

Part of Jason wished he could say he was surprised that Harley had taken GCPD HQ hostage just by showing up, but he honestly wasn’t.

Part of him wished he didn’t think that was exactly her intention, but… he didn’t particularly like lying to himself. Harley was fun.

And got results, even if she also tended not to end lives. He could respect that.

And promised not to rat him out to Danny, even if she made no promises about Waylon, who definitely also knew both his identities.

That… Jason wasn’t really surprised by that either. They’d never talked about it, but Waylon had definitely known he was the second Robin for some time.

A few of the rogues did, or at least assumed as much from the way the Batman would either obsessively chase or obsessively avoid him in mask.

Jason personally preferred and egged on the side that thought Red Hood was Batman’s evil twin brother. Or clone. Mostly because Bruce hated them.

Knowing civilian identities was a step beyond that Bruce would certainly never admit that more than one or two knew, but Jason had (slightly) less issues.

It was kinda an open secret among the rogues who’d been around since the glory days; Bruce Wayne is Batman. As Danny so rightly said of Dick, the butts matched.

(Jason was considering adding more padding to the body armour in his pants, if only to change the silhouette, because that was a fucked yet accurate identifier apparently.)

Most of the rogues didn’t fucking care, Joker and Two Face especially, but it was something that no one talked about.

And that they all specifically agreed to keep from Riddler for as long as possible.

(It was his punishment for being obnoxious at trivia nights in Arkham; no one bothered to suggest banning him or asking him to behave.)

For rogues like the Gotham City Sirens? Hadn’t been a secret since Bruce took off the mask for Selina.

Killer Croc probably wasn’t technically one of the sirens yet (and wouldn’t that be fun?) but he hung out with Harley, and despite his size he wasn’t stupid.

The only thing Jason was a little worried about was Waylon mentioning his current alter ego in front of Danny, but honestly the fact that they were at a police station would probably keep his lips closed.

All vigilantes were illegal.

Red Hood was illegal and a serial killer.

And probably couldn’t get the silent and terrified reverence Harley currently held over the station even if he walked in with a rocket launcher.

She beamed at them, hopping down off the desk with her bat over her shoulder. A little closer, Jason noted that this bat was also bedazzled, but in a different pattern from the one she’d had last night.

Or the same bat, redone, but he wasn’t putting money on it.

She hopped down off her desk and skipped across the room towards them, and Jason wished for half a second that he could command half as much menace doing something so… well, innocent.

But no, he just put heads in a bag, that wasn’t scary apparently. Fucking Gotham.

He obediently bent down for Harley to kiss his cheek, not wanting to be yanked around in the cop shop (even as a civilian), and still managed to be surprised when Danny also accepted a cheek kiss and then returned it.

Harley squealed in delight and ruffled his hair, then pinched both Danny’s cheeks.

“Awww, ain’t you all cute and cosmopolitan! So, shall we go see my big green bestie!” She declared happily, releasing Danny and turning back to lead the way out of the room.

Didn’t go for the keys. Didn’t address the question to anyone who should have been leading them down. Just got going, the way Harley always did.

No one moved to stop them.

Surprising precisely no one, Harley absolutely knew the way down to the cells at the GCPD. Not from a lotta personal experience, o’ course.

Nah, Harley usually went from crime scene to Arkham back in the day, but she’d known people and busted people out of holding before.

It had taken a couple real big favours to get Waylon kept here instead of shipped back to Arkham, but that was what favours were for. No one liked having a Harley-debt over their heads.

And Brucie’s word was gonna get Waylon released on her recognizance, once she scooped some shivering copper out from under their desk.

He’d have to actually behave this time though. No big bat-centric events, nothin’ above ground.

Honestly… she might ask him ta head home. Being in Gotham wasn’t good for either of them. Too many old patterns and bad habits, and Waylon had been doin’ a real good job keeping his nose clean.

If he wanted ta head back to Coney, they could get ‘im a ride. And if he didn’t, well, she’d have someone to watch the new show with.

Her two baby birds were following her like good little ducklings too, absolutely adorable. Although… she paused for a second, cocking her head.

“Is there a reason we’ve got theme music?” She asked with a delighted giggle as the song clicked.

It was a little muffled, but Styx’s Renegade? Ballsy choice for a trip to the cop shop.

The question seemed to surprise both boys though, and then Danny sighed, reaching back to pat a weirdly bulging pocket.

“Yeah, I upset my techno-god bestie this morning. Apparently my punishment is a soundtrack of my life,” he said dryly.

Jason paused, a slight frown on his face as he listened too.

“Wait, it changed? I thought you were on a loop?” He asked, and that was an interesting development.

Danny just shrugged.

“Yeah, he’s probably keeping an eye on us and changing it up when he thinks it’s funny. I think I know this song,” he added with a slight frown, brows furrowing as he listened.

Jason listened a moment longer, then snickered and shook his head.

“Tuck’s got good taste in music,” he said simply, and yeah, Harley remembered Tucker from dinner. Another lil cutie, all tucked up with Timmy in their own little world half the time.

Damn good at Mariokart and Spiderheck too.

Danny snorted and flipped Jason off.

“Suck up.”

And immediately the music changed, flipping straight to Pink’s Slut Like You, suddenly louder… although that mighta also been the song.

Danny groaned as his pocket loudly declared that he was not a slut, and Jason laughed at him entirely unapologetically.

“And that’s why I’m not the one with the soundtrack,” he declared smugly and Danny sighed, raising both hands in unequivocal surrender.

“Yes, yes, I’m a bad and naughty boy and I’m getting my just punishment. Can we just get going?” He asked almost rhetorically.

The music changed again, sultry twanging of a guitar before Lil Nas X began to sing Montero. It took Harley a moment longer to place it than the boys, both of whom now looked confused.

“I can’t tell if he’s encouraging you or not,” Jason said finally, and Danny sighed.

“Well I’ve pole danced into Hell before, so I’m taking it as a compliment either way,” he decided with a shrug, trying to shove what looked like an overstuffed sock deeper into his pocket. “I swear the volume shouldn’t get this loud.”

“Joys of a touchy tech friend,” Harley opined with a snicker, glancing around to see if there were cameras Tucker could be watching from. She blew both she found a kiss, then spun to continue their quest.

And realized that neither of the boys had followed her, both now watching her warily.

“What?” She asked, frowning and turning to see if she’d stepped in something. Nope, just clean floors.

“Danny’s sin was calling Tucker overdramatic,” Jason explained, and oh. Yeah, that explained the looks.

Harley waved a hand cheerfully, deliberately brushing it off.

“An’ now he’s givin’ ya life a soundtrack, so I dunno that he disagrees,” she said lightly, skipping back towards the stairs, “c’mon!”

And when no new burst of music began to switch out Lil Nas, the boys got to following again, Danny grumbling about unfairness.

Harley liked Danny. He had a refreshing lack of fucks to give, a good sense of humour, and he doted on Jason, who fucking deserved it.

They’d be so good together, and Harley was gonna have the time of her life watchin’ them work that out.

Which, now that she thought of it…

“Hey, by th’ way, ya said ya didn’t wanna meet at the manor?” She prodded, turning to walk backwards down the steps to the cells, frowning at Jason, “what’d Brucie do now?”

And watched the ease in Jason’s face freeze, muscles tightening, and Harley sighed. Yeah, a trip back to the manor was definitely in order.

“Just his usual bullshit,” Jason grumbled, running a hand through his already wild helmet hair. Danny snickered beside him and gave her a broad grin.

“Jason’s officially banned from hanging out with me,” he explained far too smugly, since there wasn’t a chance Jason would have listened to any Bruce-ban.

But, he was beside the tall and handsome stud he had a crush on, so Harley wasn’t gonna argue. She grinned back at him, just as her foot nearly slipped on a step.

Before the fall could fully start, she pushed off harder with the other foot, dodging both startled hands grabbing for her, and turned the fall into a backflip down the rest of the stairs.

Taking gymnastics as a kid really should be a prerequisite for villainy. Especially with the Robins flipping around all over the place.

She landed almost perfectly, stepping onto her back foot and then raising both arms and giving the boys a little bow. Then she sighed, resting her bat over her shoulder and mock pouting, tapping the side of her jaw.

“I guess I’m just gonna have ta go back and give ‘im a lil percussive maintenance… bet he hasn’t been restin’ right since he got that concussion either. Maybe I’ll call Selina ta keep ‘im in bed for a week,” she mused. Jason mock puked.

“I thought you wanted him to rest,” Danny snickered, earning himself a glare from his one true love. A consequence that did not phase him in the least.

Harley laughed and waved a hand lightly, skipping ahead to get the door into the hall that held the actual cells while they descended the rest of the stairs.

“Oh, she’s a big girl, Selina can do the work,” she teased, laughing louder when Jason groaned like his soul was being sucked out.

There was a cop still sat behind the desk just inside the door, an older man whose stocky frame had started softening with age.

He didn’t quite jump out of his seat as she entered, but dark eyes widened and ruddy skin paled when he saw her. Which, yeah, she had that effect on people.

“Why are you here?” He demanded, voice only shaking a little.

Harley gave him a sceptical once over.

Not someone she’d run into personally, though probably on the force when she’d been active. Off the streets now, probably not far from retirement and trying to make it all the way there.

Not a lotta Gotham cops did these days, in spite of the rampant corruption. Being in the Penguin’s pocket did sweet fuck all to protect ya when Scarecrow was having a hissy fit.

This old bugger had probably joined back in the bad ol’ days when they could just ignore mob crimes, hassle the homeless, and look the other way if a situation got violent.

These days between Gordon, the bats, and the increasingly dramatic rogues (among which she still counted herself even if Batsy didn’t, she had a reputation to uphold)?

Lookin’ the other way wasn’t the protection it used ta be, and bein’ conveniently “late” to a crime scene didn’t help much either.

This guy? Probably folded like cheap laundry at the first sign of trouble, but he’d stayed in place. That’d make her job easier anyway.

Smiling sweetly at him, Harley strolled forwards and propped her bat on the floor, both hands on the handle as she leaned forward over it.

“Pickin’ up a friend,” she told him sweetly, nodding to the line of cells down the hall, “Uber for Mr Waylon Jones?”

The guy (Officer Perkins, said the name tag, but he’d not really proved himself memorable yet) swallowed visibly, hands shaking but still visible above the desk.

Not going for a weapon. Not surprising.

No one who’d seen a gun pulled on Harley before tended to try it themselves. Just like the Robins, she was a tough target. You had to be real sure.

“Do you have the appropriate paperwork?” He rasped, a Gothamite accent still prominent despite the quiver.

Harley raised an eyebrow, letting her smile go deadly sweet.

“Would ya stop me if I didn’t?” She cooed, rocking forwards on her toes and grinning when his chair slammed back almost two feet.

The shaking had progressed to a full body shiver, sweat dripping down a blotchy brow as he slammed a ring of keys on the edge of the desk, as close as he was willing to get.

Harley scooped them up and straightened, tipping him a wink as she sauntered past.

“Thanks bud! But yeah, I do actually have the paperwork, Judge Thompson’s gonna fax it all along this afternoon,” she told him brightly, twirling the ring of keys around one finger as she skipped back towards the cells.

The judge’d fax it after she had another lil chat with Brucie. They’d cut things short last night, apparently too short for even their actual chat to finish sinking in.

Gotta fix that.

And remember to mention Waylon.

And maybe see if he had any info on her own little issue. Though she might hit Barbara up for that first, bring some treats down library way.

It was gonna be a busy day for ol’ Harley, but at least she got to spend time with the kids first.

“Was that really necessary?” Jason asked with a raised eyebrow, following her down the hall with barely a glance at their shaking audience.

“Necessary?” Harley asked sweetly, glancing into the first couple cells and skipping on. “No. Fun, yes!”

“See this is why I like her,” Danny decided with a sage nod, and Harley shot him a wink, “she knows how to have a good time.”

“I know how to have a good time,” Jason said immediately, and holy shit that was just sooooooo cute she nearly dropped the keys to go pinch his little cheeks again.

Just all pouty and defensive and they weren’t even talkin’ about him! It was too much, Harley couldn’t stand it!

“Yeah, and I like you too,” Danny replied in what he probably thought was a cool way, but no, that was just fucking adorable too.

Too.

Cute.

Harley was gonna die.

And maybe get herself a cool glowy transformation sequence apparently, which would be kinda cool. She’d always kinda wanted a magical girl moment.

She could be their fairy-ghost-mother!

And, to be fair ta Waylon, she had definitely gotten side tracked again. Almost forgot who she was here for.

But really, it did not mean he had to make a grab for her when she almost walked right past his cell! She coulda done him an injury!

He released her arm before the bat came down though, chuckling in that growly way of his and raising both hands.

“Hey. Didn’t want you goin’ right past,” he said innocently, and Harley sighed fondly and reached her bat through the bars to bonk him gently on the head.

“Hush you, I’m not that distractible,” she scolded him, completely ignoring any disbelieving noises from her two little love birds, “an’ anyway, you gotta be nice to me. I’m bustin’ yer ass out.”

She jangled the keys at Waylon instead, then began swiping through them for the right one.

The big guy obediently stepped back to let her look, his attention shifting past her to Danny and Jason.

“An’ you brought company,” he growled, a wry grin on his face. She had to wonder if he’d noticed how dang adorable they were already at the gala.

She’d missed soooo much! But he’d catch her up, because that’s what besties did. And cuz she’d kick all the kittens out of his room if he didn’t.

Jason shrugged, coming up behind her to lean on the bars.

“I had a passing interest in why you wanted to use me as bait for Two Face. We’re not exactly close,” he explained, the edited down version for their legal listeners in.

“Ya got balls for a rich kid,” Waylon chuckled just as Harley found the key. One quick victory fist pump and she got to work on the lock.

Really, there was a reason modern stations had one key ta open all the cells. Or electric locks. What if there was a fire?

But then, it was Gotham. They’d happily let all their perps burn. An’ probably keep usin’ it as an excuse why they all needed a fat budget increase.

“Victory! An’ he’s my adorable lil nephew, Croccy, so you’re gonna play nice,” she warned Waylon sternly, swinging the door open and wagging a finger at him sternly.

Again, for the benefit of their audience, but also because she enjoyed putting on a little panto. A bit o’ show.

(She’d have to remember to tell him Danny wasn’t in on the whole Hood secret though. She’d slip it in somewhere.)

Waylon grunted in amusement and stepped through the door, stretching to his full height and breadth in the hallway. And stopping.

“Who’s playin’ music?” He asked, head cocked as he tried to trace the muffled sound.

Honestly, Harley’d kinda forgot it was playing until he said it.

Danny sighed again, at his most put upon, and raised a hand.

“I have offended the technogod and am being punished by soundtrack,” he explained in a tone so dry it desiccated. And didn’t exactly help.

Harley patted the now-more-confused Croc on the elbow.

“He’s upset one of his lil nerd friends by callin’ him dramatic, so his friend hacked ‘is phone to make it play music,” she explained much more helpfully for sure.

Again, Jason and Danny took slight steps away from her.

Again, nothing continued to happen.

Harley’s smile grew more smug.

“An’ apparently said friend still can’t get inta mine,” she declared brightly, shooting another glance up at the security camera and tapping her pocket.

Waylon grunted again, clearly not needing to ask further because her explanation was perfect, and gave Danny a nod of recognition.

“An’ is that why you’re here? Mood music?” He asked, heading off down the hall back towards the doors. Which, yeah, they had places to be.

Danny brightened right away, grinning up at Waylon and moving to let the big guy pass.

“Unless you want a rematch? I haven’t been tossed around like that in a while and I could use the exercise,” he snarked, and yeah, this was why Harley liked him.

Waylon clearly did too, snickering and clapping a massive hand on Danny’s head on his way by.

“Mouth like that’s gonna get yer killed one day, kid,” he grumbled, ignoring the still cowering cop as they made for the stairs.

And Danny, bless him, angel of timing, just laughed and followed along, shooting Jason a wicked grin.

“Oh, it’s way too late for that,” he said light as air, making Jason let out a snort of laughter.

Waylon glanced down to Harley again, fully aware he’d missed something. She gave him another pat on the elbow.

“Jason an’ Danny met at Dead Kids Anonymous. Kid’s got himself a ghost transformation an’ everything,” she explained simply, which didn’t have to be completely true to get the point across.

It made Waylon snicker again, even as Danny cackled along behind them.

“Now THAT is what we’re telling everyone else. We might as well have,” he rasped between laughter.

His pocket music seemed to have changed to Thriller. Appropriate.

Jason rolled his eyes, but he was still grinning.

Harley didn’t think she’d seen him smile this much the entire time he was alive again. It was nice; most of the times she’d seen him as Robin they’d been fightin’, but he’d always been havin’ so much fun.

At least he looked like he had. Poor kid deserved to smile a whole lot more too.

Waylon was taking the news of Danny’s lack of mortality pretty well, giving the kid a thoughtful look. They’d made their way mostly out of the station now, their little bubble of terrified silence moving with them.

That’d get old one day, but until then Harley was gonna take advantage.

“Maybe we’ll have another tussle then,” he agreed with a low chuckle, holding the door for the others to leave through. Real southern gent. “Good t’know I won’t break ya.”

Danny bounced through the door as chipper as Harley herself, giving him a beaming smile.

“Hell yeah, we’ll find somewhere nice and out of the way. Oh, we had some questions too though,” he added almost as an afterthought, giving Jason a sheepish look that again: too cute.

Maybe that was how he’d really died. Too cute to live. Though she’d let him make that joke himself.

Jason didn’t seem bothered, though he did look a little more tense. Not sure where they’d be taking this, more’n likely.

“Once we get somewhere private,” Waylon agreed, glancing between Jason and Harley himself.

That probably meant it was on her to pick a destination then. Well, Harley had a place in mind that (while not technically private) wouldn’t involve onlookers.

“Yeah, I know a spot! I’ll send ya the address, Jayjay, an’ we’ll meet ya there. Don’t think we’ll get four on that bike,” she teased, pulling out her phone.

She knew the perfect spot, and it’d give her a chance to loop Waylon in. All good news.

Jason held up a hand quickly.

“Not got mine on me. Text Danny,” he called, and Harley waved her phone over her head in acknowledgement. It might give Tucker a way to jump into her phone, she wouldn’t know.

Tech wasn’t her shtick. Just a good thing they’d all exchanged numbers the night before.

It was a weird feeling to have his body shaken while his consciousness was so far from it.

Feeling his face pull into a frown not quite mirroring what he felt it should be. Tucker could never have explained precisely what part of him entered his devices; just that it was him.

Quintessential, pure essence of Too Fine. Everything he was without the meat he was born in.

But then he did have to slot back into that meat, and trying to do that without matching positions always left him feeling weirdly off kilter the next day. Like he’d put on a shirt but the shoulders were skewed too short.

So despite not being conscious of a face on his extended form, Tucker tried to form it into a frown anyway, sliding back under his own skin like a teen sneaking back through a window after curfew.

Hadn’t those been heady days?

Eyes slowly opening, it took Tucker a moment to remember how to focus them. That they weren’t cameras. But then Tim Drake-Wayne came into focus, and the frown changed to a grin even before he fully “woke up”.

“Morning,” he mumbled, rolling and stretching, getting used to the feeling of a body again. It was a little weirder each time, which he might have worried about if he didn’t see himself as an extension of his PDA anyway.

“You were singing in your sleep,” Tim told him without preamble, returning the smile.

Tucker hesitated for a moment, suddenly embarrassed. If… well. If he’d been singing along, that…

Look he’d picked songs that’d embarrass Danny, he wasn’t gonna give a fuck about it. The only actual question was, did he tell Tim?

Who else would ever understand better just what it meant to interact with tech the way he could? Could get excited with him about how cool it was?

He wasn’t fucking gushing to Technus. No way. Tuck was easily the one winning that ongoing hackathon, but it was the principle of the thing.

To the zone with it. Tim knew about Amity Park, he knew about the ghosts and the liminal tech. And while they hadn’t exactly discussed liminal people, it’d come up.

Tim could have a sneak preview. As a treat.

Decision made, Tucker gave the younger man another broad smile because yeah, bragging about your super powers to a very cool and impressive person? That felt good.

Tim might be a vigilante too, but Tucker was pretty sure Jason was the only souped up Robin. Most of the bats were famously power free.

“Oh, yeah. I was bullying Danny,” he explained with a light chuckle, glancing up to find his beloved PDA, Ida. She was half under a blanket now, so he tugged her back out.

Tim chuckled softly, leaning back and stretching himself.

“Good dream?” He asked and Tucker snickered, stroking gently across the screen.

“Danny wishes it was a dream.” Tucker paused, frowning a little at the confusion on Tim’s face. “So you remember we kinda talked about the whole liminal thing?”

That seemed to jog Tim’s memory, confusion fading into an analytical frown that Tucker was already becoming familiar with. That good ol’ geek face.

“The humans with budding ghost powers,” he agreed, and Tucker had to wonder if maybe he just hadn’t put the right pieces together yet.

He hadn’t exactly said that most of Amity Park were liminal, but it was a little hard to remember he had to. Like, they lived on a portal to Hell.

Maybe he shoulda.

Well, at least it was a cool way to introduce it to him.

Tucker pulled Ida into his lap, flipped her over, and tapped the plain plastic backing to demonstrate.

“Mine’s a low level technopathy at the moment,” he explained as the PDA hummed and then began playing… well, still Montero, so he flicked it again and changed it immediately to Country Roads.

Tim was watching him with a kind of hungry fascination, and Tucker turned the music off with a thought, then passed her to Tim so he could check for secret touchpads.

“It’s not something I can do with anything,” he explained with a modest shrug, grinning with pride as Tim immediately got to scanning the casing.

All simple plastic, not even biometrics; what would be the point? Even touching the PDA was pretty much a formality at this point. She was a part of him.

“Technopathy? So you can control it with your mind? Why not with anything?” Tim asked eagerly, hands stroking over the plastic, eyes darting between it and Tucker.

Like he wasn’t sure which was more interesting, Tuck or tech, and Tucker absolutely took that as a compliment.

“It has to be a device I’ve really gotten into. Like, down to the source code, or something I’ve cracked before a couple times, and then I can just feel how all of it works.”

Tucker wiggled his fingers demonstratively and the PDA beeped to life under Tim’s hands, making the other man gasp. And yeah, totally envy in those cute blue eyes he turned all balefully on Tucker.

“How many of the functions can you use? Anything the PDA can do, or…” Tim trailed off, clearly thinking of everything he’d already seen the PDA do.

The real question would have been what couldn’t Ida do. And honestly? Yeah, Tucker remembered the trial phase.

He gave another shrug.

“Technically? Yeah, anything she can do, but I still prefer hacking the old fashioned way. Most of the network stuff too, cuz I’m only really “in” the PDA. Or Danny or Sam’s phones.”

Tucker hesitated, wondering how best to really explain the difference. Danny had never been any good at it, Tucker’d had no idea what he was talking about from the video game thing right up until he’d been sucked in himself.

Which… was probably gonna be a next-hangout adventure for Tim and the bats. And Oracle, if he could swing it.

For now he gave up, giving Tim a hopeless grin.

“Honestly it’s something you’ve really gotta feel for yourself. Danny’s great at the transition from real world to code, but he always just punches things, y’know? Turns out knowing how code is actually supposed to work doesn’t translate well to being part of it,” he added with a sigh.

Because frankly? It was bullshit unfair. Tucker could code an entire other galaxy around Danny with his eyes closed, but put them in the same metaphysical layer as a firewall and Danny could just.

Punch it.

Which, theme for the week, was also not how firewalls fucking worked. At some point Tuck figured he’d either gain a new level of understanding through liminality, or give up and ask Technus a couple questions.

Technus was currently Tucker’s subject instead of Danny’s anyway. They’d made a bet.

Which meant Technus shoulda told him about their shenanigans in time, which was probably what Tucker would hold over his head for the whole firewall thing.

It was so nice when things just worked themselves out.

Tim looked a little disappointed, but mostly still intrigued. Tucker could see his fingers just itching for his own tablet to take notes.

“Do you think that’ll change?” He asked, blurting it out like he couldn’t hold back now that Tucker stopped talking, “I mean, if you become more liminal? Or just practice your abilities more?”

And see, this was what Tucker loved about Tim Drake-Wayne. They were on the same wavelength. He grinned back.

“Probably. But I mean, it’s kinda cheating too. For now I kinda like that I have to do things the way I always used to first, before any ghostly powers kick in. It’s more me, y’know?” And like hell he’d let anyone think his code skills were just some meta ability.

He’d worked damn hard for those skills, and he was damn good. One of the best, and he was also good enough to know he still wasn’t actually top of the charts.

That was the Oracle, although knowing they still hadn’t cracked his servers felt really good.

Tim was all but vibrating, clearly full of questions, but they were both interrupted by a loud growl from Tucker’s stomach. Immediately echoed by Tim’s, so at least he wasn’t alone.

The two shared sheepish grins, and then Tucker stretched.

“So, breakfast and then Twenty Questions?” He offered cheerfully, and Tim nodded at once, thrusting the PDA back and rolling off the frankly massive bed.

“We can start while we eat, everyone else has probably gone out by now,” he said over one shoulder, stripping out of his clothes from the previous night and hurrying for his closet.

Ah hell, Tucker had only brought the one change of clothes… which Alfred had laundered yesterday after the snowball fight. Which would mean they were.

In a place.

Probably in the manor.

Maybe in the room they’d talked about setting up?

He looked to Tim, and only then noticed that his tech idol was shucking off his boxers in exchange for new ones, entirely unselfconscious.

Tucker frowned back down at his current borrowed shirt instead, waiting til he at least heard both feet on the floor before looking over again. Tim might not care, but in case he did, Tucker could be a gentleman.

And then he could ask the important question.

“Speaking of Alfred… my clothes?” He asked hopefully, and yeah, the way Tim’s mouth dropped open and his brain visibly blue screened?

Just like Danny. They were gonna get along great.

Of all the top secret, private places in Gotham to go and have a villainous chat… Danny never would have expected a milkshake bar. But like he’d said last night, that was kinda what made it perfect.

Who’d expect to find Harley Quinn and Killer Croc, properly Waylon, sat in a pastel pink corner booth in the back of the bar?

Honestly, none of the staff seemed surprised. But they might not have been to see all the bats walk in; it was Gotham. Rogues happened. If no one pulled a weapon, don’t be the reason that changes.

It made him feel right at home, really. Just like Amity Park.

And they made a damn good milkshake. Danny took another deep slurp of his, cookie butter and cheesecake was definitely a combo he’d been sleeping on.

If pressed, he couldn’t really explain what he’d wanted out of this meeting.

Something in what Harley had said last night had struck home in a way he hadn’t expected, but with Waylon in front of him now… well, for one thing he seemed a lot more like just some guy who happened to be green.

And who was just adorably happy with his cotton candy milkshake, complete with little umbrella.

At the gala, he’d been big and menacing and monstrous, all things Danny was very used to and meant “friend” more often than they meant anything else. He’d still take a rematch, but he just…

Well, that was just it, wasn’t it?

Waylon really wasn’t all that monstrous, if you looked the faintest scratch past sharpened teeth and scales. He was polite to the servers, a happy straight-man to Harley’s jokes, and he could have teased Jason more for Danny’s tastes but it was definitely effective.

Jason was much more at ease here with two rogues than he’d been any time his adoptive dad was around. That… well, Danny knew full well he didn’t know much about Jason’s life.

It felt like he’d learned a whole lot more just today already, though again, it’d be hard to explain exactly what.

The conversation had been light, easy, and full of banter so far, and Danny really wasn’t sure how to segue from that to “so you were called a monster all your life”.

Because while for the most part Danny now only had to deal with the GIW calling him a monster (and they’d been quiet for years now, still rebuilding after the whole “bomb the ghost zone” bs)… the things his parents had called him still hurt.

The things people thought he was, ghosts and living alike, he just… he didn’t know what to do with it. These days he could mostly ignore it, and unlike Waylon he could even pass for living.

(Never for a ghost though. He’d never be able to stop any ghost from seeing him and knowing immediately, instinctively, that he was other.)

In some ways it felt like meeting Vlad all over again, but without the crushing disappointment. Well, what it might have been to learn there was another halfa if he hadn’t preceded it by being a massive creep.

It was… complicated. And all tangled up in his feelings around Jason, because Jason actually was like him and really did get it, or would soon.

And Jason clearly liked Waylon, for all he grimaced and bitched about the deadpan teasing. Waylon had a lot of interesting stories about Jason’s cape days, most of which Jason hurried to try to interrupt.

Harley had more, and they’d sat at opposite ends of the table before the boys had arrived, almost certainly so Jason couldn’t shush them both at once.

If he clapped a hand over Harley’s mouth, Waylon would either take up the tale or start one of his own, and vice versa. There was just no way Jason could win.

It reminded Danny of his own rogues, though maybe more Fright Knight than Ember or Johnny. The ones he got along with, but more respectfully than just his friends.

Kinda like watching Harley with the rest of the bat-brood.

Danny was very nobly doing his best not to enjoy it too much; within a week or two it’d be his turn roughhousing with his rogues, and he was hoping Jason would return the favour.

There was no way he could get any kind of ghost fight club going without his usual players, and those were the ones with all the most embarrassing stories of his early days.

Johnny and Kitty especially had blackmail material for days, so as much as Danny was loving the lil baby Robin stories (carefully never actually mentioning the name, since no one was masked)… no, his feeling was kinda more impending doom. It’d be his turn soon.

And Ancients help them if Harley and Waylon met Johnny and Kitty… nope, not thinking about that. Suppressing a shudder, Danny deliberately tuned back in to Waylon’s story about the time he’d kidnapped Bruce Wayne.

At least Jason was having fun with this one.

Of course, it couldn’t have the obvious ending; whether or not Waylon had known at the time that he had Batman, you couldn’t mention the punch line out in public. It’d be rude.

He left the story at the Robin beat down instead, declaring that the big Bat himself hadn’t even bothered to show up. Didn’t quite go full stage wink, but it was pretty much the next best thing.

Danny laughed along with the table and Jason shook his head, settling back into his seat with a low huff.

“Fun as this is, we did have some questions,” he said, voice just a little lower than before.

Danny was a little surprised he’d bring it up in such a public space. Right up until Harley glanced around, nodded, and settled back into her seat.

“Clear too. Any o’ the gawkers ‘ve been seen out,” she agreed with a slight nod.

Danny startled, looking around himself. The milkshake bar was… about half as full as it had been when they arrived. His confusion must have been obvious, because Waylon snickered.

“It ain’t the Iceberg Lounge, kid, but this is one of Dr Freeze’s more self sustaining operations. Can’t all be heisting diamonds,” he added with a slight shrug.

Not noticeably less confused, Danny turned to Jason instead. Jason chuckled softly, shaking his head and giving Danny a grin that was almost proud.

“Shit, you’ve lived in Gotham a year and it’s a fucking miracle how little you know. Iceberg Lounge is the Penguin’s upscale club. This place is run by the guy we talked about last night, freeze rays and diamond heists,” he explained quickly.

Harley snickered, draping her arms over the back of their booth.

“An’ if some o’ his ol’ Arkham buddies come in ta chat, his people know ta clear out anyone tryin’ to listen in too hard,” she added, nodding to one of the servers.

Well.

That tracked.

Danny had also definitely thoroughly demolished his “keeping away from rogues” spree, which kinda sucked. But then, since he’d basically gone from one extreme to the other?

Maybe that’d be fun to tell his classmates about too. It definitely tracked more with Danny’s understanding of his own luck. A whole year, no trouble? More like no chance.

Also meant this had to be a safe place to talk, apparently. What was it about rogues that made them so eager to get on with each other but nobody else?

Well, Danny got on with most of his now. But still.

Jason leaned forward, arms folded on the table.

“So what’s going on with Two Face, Waylon?” He asked quietly, still apparently aware of eavesdroppers.

Waylon glanced around the bar, then shrugged, settling back against the booth.

“Hard to say, with ‘im. Coulda been a coin flip, coulda been somethin’ else, but he wasn’t just gunnin’ for the gala. Somethin’ about you specifically put a bug in his ass, kid,” he added with a frown, nodding towards Jason.

Something in Danny tensed, not liking the idea of anyone targeting Jason. Of course, it must have happened before… when he was Robin.

And he’d died.

Danny hadn’t even noticed he was clenching his fists until Jason nudged his foot under the table.

Safe-worry-you okay? Jason’s aura was getting clearer, and Danny did his best to smile back. Sometimes his Obsession still snuck up on him.

Forcing himself to relax, he grabbed his milkshake instead. It felt warm, which was odd until he realised his hands were icy cold.

Not quite literally, but closer than he’d come in a while.

Neither of the rogues seemed to have notice, Harley playing with her milkshake while she frowned at Waylon.

“An’ you decided the best thing ta do was hit the gala first?” She asked dryly, her tone neatly conveying just what she thought of that idea.

Waylon shrugged.

“Not like I coulda swung an invite to get in nicely. Sounded like he had somethin’ real nasty planned, kid,” he added, shaking his head and leaning back in his seat.

Jason frowned, giving Danny another soft kick on the ankle as he leaned forward. Unnecessarily, for sure, Danny totally had his shit under control now.

“But no one said anything about why? I don’t think I’ve even met him,” Jason asked and yeah, that probably meant as Jason. Maybe even post Robin.

Waylon shrugged again.

“It’s fuckin’ Two Face. Maybe he ran outta matching targets and figured two lives had ta count?” He offered, though it looked like it was still bugging him too.

Harley huffed and shook her head, blonde ponytails bouncing.

“I’ll keep an ear out too. There’s a couple people who’ll prefer talkin’ ta me over you, sugar,” she teased Waylon as he grunted, a tinkling laugh falling from her lips.

Waylon snorted, but a reluctant smile curled his lips.

“More likely to spill to ya,” he agreed in a low grumble, poking his straw around a mostly empty milkshake.

Harley nodded brightly, clapping her hands.

“Exactly! ‘Specially if they don’t want any of their own special lil secrets told,” she agreed with a truly wicked smile. Then she paused, a slight frown curling her brow.

It was still a little weird to be able to see the moments where her brain revved up. Danny had to assume it was having been raised by Jazz; it was clearly easy for people to get lost in the bubbly exterior.

Fingers drumming on the table now, something had clearly jogged her memory.

“Might be somethin’ ta do with Black Mask too,” she said more quietly, gaze unusually serious as she caught Jason’s eyes, “he’s been quieter ‘n I like lately. Keepin’ ‘imself out of trouble.”

Danny might just ask if Jason could get him a rolodex of the Gotham villains to match the server Danny had provided for the Zone.

It did not help that they all had their own wild code names. He was used to dealing with people who had a lot of personality, sure, and theatrics. But ghosts usually just had the one name.

Except apparently for Frighty, or Halloween as Danny would have to start calling him now. It’d take some getting used to.

Jason noticed his desperately pleading puppy eyes and sighed.

“Look, I’ll give you the rundown on everyone tonight. Black Mask is a whole ass problem. Crime boss for the False Face Society, really likes skinning peoples’ faces. Red Hood kicked him out of Crime Alley a couple years ago, he firmed his grip on the rest of Gotham, and him being quiet is never fucking good.”

And as if that didn’t sound bad enough…

“An’ he really doesn’t like Jason,” Waylon growled, shoulders tightening and straining his shirt.

Something in Danny tensed again, and he forced himself to take a long, deep breath. Closed his eyes and took another.

This was why he’d avoided the whole subject. Until now.

He could taste Jason’s concern like a tang in the air as he spoke up.

“There’s fuck all he can do while I’m in the Alley though. Unless something’s really changed he can’t challenge Red Hood,” he explained quietly, leaning in until their shoulders brushed.

Harley heaved a dramatic sigh, raising a hand and waving to one of the servers.

“Yeah, yeah, you jus’ take care of yaself, kid. Roman’s a pain in the ass an’ if ya let him kill ya again he’ll be intolerable,” she grumbled, the tone at odds with the cheery smile she gave the first server to glance over. “Another round!”

“Anything different?” The server, a young man with shaggy blond hair asked.

Danny considered it, since the menu was both extensive and interesting, but really? It’d complicate things, and he didn’t want to think about something else.

Just the idea of some asshole gangster trying to kill Jason was bad enough. But he sucked in another deep breath and reminded himself that this was pretty much all speculative.

Black Mask was quiet, not actively threatening, and Gotham had an army of vigilantes to keep an eye on him even before Harley and Waylon got involved. An army of vigilantes who all seemed to like Jason.

Jason wasn’t worried. Danny wasn’t gonna go all protective mama bear on the guy just because rogues existed.

The one thing he’d always promised himself was that even with a Protection Obsession, he was never gonna be as bad as Jazz at her clingiest.

He loved his sister, she meant well, but he’d hated her constant fussing. Danny had actually died sure, but he’d come right back and she hadn’t noticed for months.

Jason didn’t have a scratch on him. Or any reason to put up with a clingy almost-stranger, Danny reminded himself as he accepted his new milkshake, hiding a smile behind the glass.

Hell, if Jason being Fright Knight meant he’d sense if Danny was in danger, maybe that could work both ways. That’d be worth asking Frostbite about, and they had to see him for Jason’s core checkup soon.

Having survived one Clockwork encounter without a lecture, Danny wasn’t pushing his luck.

And if it turned out that it wouldn’t be that easy… well, there were other ways Danny could know if Jason was hurt, and unless they had a way to change dimensions? No Gotham rogue could take Jason anywhere that Danny couldn’t find him.

The feel of another halfa was still faint for now, barely noticeable unless Jason was in the same room, but it was already stronger.

Or Danny was more used to looking for him. More used to the feel of his energy, the boiling rage of the pit tangled up in everything else that was Jason.

Kinda a lot still angry, but tempered. Mixed in with that wonderful sense of humour, dry sarcasm and death jokes, and determination.

Danny was pretty sure he could find Jason pretty much anywhere on Earth right now if he had to. And it would only get easier.

With the question of Harvey Dent settled as much as it would be (and if a flip of a coin was all he needed, maybe as much as it could be), the conversation turned lighter.

Harley and Waylon stayed off the topic of rogues, probably to minimise the need to keep filling Danny in. They also mostly avoided embarrassing baby Jason stories though.

No, instead they filled Danny and Jason in on what they’d been up to down on Coney Island.

Danny had never expected to enjoy another circus story again, let alone an actual freakshow, but somehow? Hearing Harley tell it, he almost wanted to drop by.

Not see the damn show. Nope. Hard pass.

But hanging out with the performers, Harley’s tenants? That sounded like fun. They were just ordinary people, if a bit to the left.

Roller derby sounded great, even if Danny wouldn’t play it with humans. In the Ghost Zone though? They could probably make a rink. And baseball bats.

Waylon’s stories were way more domestic too; there was just something about a 7’ crocodile man telling you about his efforts to finally hold the skittish little grey kitten upstairs.

It was just… well. Like hanging out with Kitty and Johnny, or Wulf. Maybe the only people who could understand what it was like to be a vigilante were the rogues who fit the other half of the mold.

They all lived lives skewed away from the normal, didn’t fit in. The more they talked and shared stories, the more Danny settled. Relaxed.

Which was when the last piece finally fell into place. He knew what he wanted to ask Waylon now.

Still on edge from the night before, Constantine wasn’t exactly thrilled to bits to be hearing from the Big Bat again so soon.

Honestly, why couldn’t he have a nice, normal emergency? Just the world ending, some arch demon jumping for the throne of Hell, a wayward amateur magician or cursed artefact?

Why did it always have to be Amity fuckin’ Park?

Still, after they’d given the whole League the rundown, John was planning on washing his hands of the whole affair. They’d be up to date, they’d have his recommendation (leave well enough alone), and whatever they did after that?

That could be Zatanna’s problem. Or Shazam’s. Which didn’t really matter.

So of course there was just one more thing that Batman wanted from him first.

“A health check on yer revenant?” He asked skeptically, arms folded as he scowled at an annoyingly refreshed and rejuvenated looking Batman.

Who just nodded patiently like he hadn’t said anything crazy.

“Nothing strenuous. Just a check in, and then we move on to the meeting,” he agreed blandly, watching John from behind the cut outs.

Constantine pinched the bridge of his nose and drew in a heavy breath. Let it out. Decided not to think about all of the things that could go wrong tangling with a fuckin’ revenant.

Bats was still here, hale and healthy, so the kid was clearly used to extreme provocation. How bad could John’s company be?

Way, way worse the little honest part of him supplied, but…

Well. The worst of it all was, no matter how damn annoying the man was, how fucking insistent on poking into shit that’d get ‘em all killed?

Constantine liked him.

Just a bit. The tiniest, littlest bit, that he firmly ground under his heel at every opportunity, and especially when that poking was getting close to end-of-the-world levels.

It was the only reason the League had his number at all, because John Constantine sure as shit was not a hero. He liked the world not ending, yeah, but he coulda had Zatanna call him for those.

He just. Had maybe the very smallest soft spot for how earnest the Big Three all were, deep down. Wonder Woman especially, there was a lady who’d been in the game longer than John himself, and yet it never fuckin’ touched her.

They still looked at the world, at an old shit like John Constantine, and saw something worth saving.

So even when he was tired, stressed, and wondering just how deep he should dare to probe to check the Bat’s explorations in Amity Park hadn’t garnered the wrong kind of attentions…

He huffed another reluctant sigh. It did not help knowing that even if he refused, the Bat would just argue him down until John gave in, or the meeting started.

It was three hours before the meeting was due to start.

Constantine would rather jump straight through the damn Fenton portal.

“Fine,” he growled, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his trench coat. If the revenant got cranky, he could always hide behind the big Bat.

The bastard didn’t even bother thanking him, just nodded like he’d expected John to agree all along, and made for the exit.

Were they fuckin’ going out in full costume? In the middle of the day?

Well heavens forbid Bruce Goddamn Wayne do anything subtly.

Tim’s afternoon was going great. Thanks to Tucker, he’d had a full and hearty brunch, which made Alfred happy.

Tim wasn’t much of a gourmet himself, probably as a result of having to survive on what he could find in the house between his parents’ visits. So long as it went down his throat and kept him alive, he was happy.

He knew Alfred’s cooking was great, it always tasted fantastic, he just… didn’t get excited about food.

Tucker though? Tucker gushed enthusiastically over every bite, moaning loudly as he dug into pancakes, sausages, bacon, and even black pudding.

He enjoyed his food almost as much as Wally, and Tim found himself savouring his own a little more as he watched. Usually he’d swallow half of it whole, just to get back to work.

But he didn’t have a new case today. Sure, there was still work to do on Amity Park (and rewriting all of the Justice League reporting protocols, ugh).

But he had Tucker here to help, and really, today could be about getting to know the guy. He’d more than learned his lesson from the last few days.

It turned out that food tasted a whole lot better if he actually stopped to chew it.

They’d talked while they ate too, Tucker often with his mouth full like he just couldn’t stop and wait to swallow.

It was kinda adorable.

Tim had shared some stories about the missions he’d been on with Young Justice, Tucker had told him more about Technus. There may have been a secret side trip to Amity Park in the works so Tim could meet him.

And introduce Cassie to Pandora.

There may also have been a secret side trip to the Ghost Zone being planned too. That one was gonna have to be extra-double-top-secret though, since Constantine put a bug in B’s ass about the Infinite Realms.

But honestly, how bad could it be if three completely untrained teenagers could just hop in and out on a whim?

Sure, there were risks. Some of the bigger, scarier ghosts that Tucker told him about. And just the air of the realms itself, which wasn’t great for humans in the long term.

That, Tim was a little less sure about. Tucker could say it’d never done him any harm all he liked, but he was kinda half dead now. Dead enough for super powers.

Not that Tim wanted super powers. It’s not like he’d ever needed them to keep up with his super friends. He didn’t need them, not even to interface his brain with his computer…

Nope.

But that was also how they got around to how Tucker would be getting home, because Tim finally twigged.

“Wait… when you say Danny flew you here, you didn’t actually mean what you said about the plane, did you?” He asked cautiously when they’d migrated back to the bat cave (with a plate of cookies and juice. Alfred was totally taking advantage of a chance to feed Tim).

Tucker grinned sheepishly and shrugged.

“Well, I didn’t know Danny was gonna just go off like that right away. But yeah, he just came and grabbed me and we flew through the Ghost Zone.”

He seemed to think Tim might be upset with him, but honestly? This was great news. They might be able to wrangle a little extra time.

“So… needing to go home today was because of Danny?” He asked hopefully.

Tucker caught on at once, like the genius he was, tracking Tim’s grin and beginning to smile in return.

“Well, technically I do also have classes on Monday, but so long as I’m back tonight I can fake it if you have another way to get me home, like… say, a bat plane?” He asked innocently, head cocked to one side.

Tim snatched up his phone, sending a quick text. Of course, there was always the chance Connor wouldn’t answer. Or that he’d be busy. Or that he’d have school.

As if he wouldn’t have dropped pretty much anything when Tim called him. God Tim loved his boyfriend.

“I was actually thinking of something a little more discrete than the bat plane… especially since you have some experience being carried.”

————————

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai

Next chapter:

#dp x dc #danny fenton dead and loving it #dc x dp #dead on main ship #danny x jason #chapter 14 #a good excuse to be a bad influence #it’s finally heeeeere #despite the world’s best efforts #the musical interlude

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stuffymcstuffsworld · 8 months

Text

No, I'm not dying

The flu was nothing new to humans. They had been dealing with variants of it for centuries despite what some assumed. So, really, you calling in a sick day and locking yourself inside your room so the kids didn't get it wasn't a big deal. Or so you and Iruma had thought.

Apparently, it was a big deal to demons. Your phone received hundreds of different texts and calls the main culprit being Balam, who was practically a hysterical when speaking to. Why in Devi's name did he think you were dying?

Asking what he should do for your human burial rights and everything. It kinda pissed you off that he had so little faith in your immune system! And if Balam was being dramatic, Sullivan was being 10x worse.

Balling his eyes out and rambling about not wanting to lose his baby. Honestly, what a headache. It wasn't until after you woke up from a nap that you saw a text from iruma that made you think twice.

'I think there's some kind of misunderstanding. Maybe flu means something else here?' You thought back to all the crying and excessive messages. That might explain something. But you still had 2-3 more days for recovery.

So you simply texted back. 'Kindly remind your grandfather that we are not demons and therefore will not die from demonic disease.' Then you shot a quick text to the sniveling demon outside your door. 'I'm not dying for devi's sake. I just need rest!'

Then you called Balam and demanded he come over now if he was going to be so emotional about this. The large demon was outside your balcony in minutes. You swung open the doors and gave the sharpest glare you could muster with your stuffed up system at work.

"I'm gonna make this very clear, so listen." Your voice a little nasally, but luckily, it wasn't too bad. "I'm not dying. I will not be dying. Humans have dealt with this for generations. it's a part of life. Now stop fussing. All I need is bed rest for 3 more days max and then I'll show you that I'm still alive and will beat the ass of anyone who says otherwise."

You coughed a few times, but the glare you gave when the large demon reached out stopped him in his tracks. "I'm kicking you out of the nest till I get better." He gasped "what no please what if it gets worse or-"

You gave him a look. "I am fine. I will be fine. You can ask questions and give me a full check-up when I am better." You slammed the door back into place. Knowing that if he wanted to, the demon could easily rip it off its hinges. But also knowing he wouldn't.

A knock at your door reveals a tear stained Sullivan looking at you. Or well, it's more like through you. "Humans are so delicate." He murmured. You snorted.

"Of course, we are compared to demons. That just makes all of our accomplishments more amazing! Watch me, Papa, I'm gonna get better, then I'll be kicking down the doors to babyls again in no time." You flshed a cheeky grin.

***72hrs later***

You race down the stairs, wishing the kids good morning. Bestowing hugs and kisses freely as you went. Leaping past a shocked opera and into the dining room where a sulking Sullivan sat.

You started texting your colleagues that you were fine as you made your way over to the slim demons side. "Papa, I'm feeling lazy. Will you carry me to school?" You teased. The demon perked up and looked at you.

You smiled and twirled in place a moment. "Hurry, Papa, I have so much to do before classes start." Sullivan scooped you up immediately spinning you around the room.

Laughter filled the room. Later that day, just as the bell rang for first class to start, you kicked down Balams door. Students shocked yet egar to see you. "I lived bitch!" You shouted before striding over to the trembling demon and pulling him in for much needed cuddle time.

#mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #reader #lord sullivan #iruma suzuki #balam shichirou #balam x reader

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louscartridge · 1 year

Note

hii can you make a how you arisu and met/started daiting and can you possibly add smut to it 🤞🏽

i do not give permission for my fics to be posted claiming to be yours, translated, or posted on another platform without credit.

arisu x gn reader

cw- not rly proof read, swearing, arisu being a little bit of a stalker in a cute way if you squint, karube and reader being close, karube being a teasing shit, eventually established relationship, death, crying, kissing, arisu having a slight panic attack, the heart game arisu played :,(

A/N- unfortunatly, i coppied the intire story after i wrote it so it was like on here twice to if you read something more the once or something lmk so i can fix it lmaooo. also i got a liiiiitle carried away lmfaoo sry. also also theres no smut in this (because i got carried away) however you super duper cool favorite writer is going to make up for it by writing super duper cool smut headcanons n shit for arisu xx. edit- heres the smut

❥ you and arisu had met on a video game tbfh

❥ well no that was a lie

❥ you saw each other at the bar karube worked at, but like quite literally NEVER said jack shit to each other.

❥ you were just aware of each other but never rly thought about each other until you would see each other at the bar

❥ but then, you needed help on a paper for school and arisu was right next to you. you would ask karube, but you knew he wouldnt understand anything you wouldve said, and youve heard from karube that arisu was pretty smart so why not? you asked arisu the for help which he gladly accepted, he was bored anyway. soon enough you got the awnser. (which earned a snort from karube)

❥ then you like MET, MET in a video game

❥ karube and you knew each other fairly well and arisu knew that

❥ so instead of arisu talking to you himself, he seriously asked karube for your instagram

❥ after karube poking fun at arisu for ‘liking you’ he finally got it.

❥ you instagram led to your discord

❥ your discord led to your playstation (please idk if arisu played playstation or xbox.... or neither. kill me.)

❥ he saw you were in a game so he took that as his chance to add you as a friend cause if you were in a game you most likely wouldnt accept or deny it right away

❥ he joined the game you were playing and kinda just like did absolutely nothing

❥ he just watched you play

❥ he ended up being really impressed with how good you were doing tbh

❥ when you were done with the round you were playing you quickly accepted the request from arisu, knowing it was him since karube was laughing his ass off when arisu first texted him about you.

❥ when you went to meet the guys at the mall the next day you immediately went up to arisu seeing as he was right where he said they would be, talking with karube and chota.

❥ when you walked up to them karube whistled

❥ slowly turning to face arisu karube said “woooowww! look at that! someone is talking to you man!”

❥ after another teasing remark towards arisu karube patted both of you on the sholder with a wink before walking away, chota frantically following behind him.

❥ “so..how’d you get my gamer tag hm?” (this is so stupid) you smirked

“i- what? i- i didnt?” he would lie his thumbs safely tucked into the straps of his backpack over his shoulders.

“god your such a bad liar! look at you, not making eye contact at all, squeezing onto the staps of your backpack like im gonna kill you. karube wasent even trying to shut up when you texted him. i mean quite literally, laugh and reading me the text messages.”

“well seeing as you dont have a problem with any of that.. could i maybe- possibly get your line? or- or something”

❥ he was so shy it was adorable

❥ who were you to say no? (not like you wanted to)

❥ and so for a few months, you guys were inseparable.

❥ every time karube was with arisu so were you.

❥ every time you were with karube so was arisu.

❥ yet, you were both still oblivious to your feelings towards each other.

❥ karube was obviously not, still taking ‘sarcastic’ jabs at the two of you.

❥ playing games together, calling, sleeping, going to school, not going to school, pretty much everything was done together.

❥ however, that included the borederlands.

❥ you were with karube, arisu, and chota when everyone but you guys seemingly disappeared.

❥ at first it was fun, just you and your best friends with you and not needing to worry about anything at all.

❥ until it wasent.

❥ now it wasent pretty much everything was done together. it was absolutely everything was done together.

❥ but it still wasent until the hearts game that you guys didnt anything officially romantic together.

❥ you had gotten split up from everyone else during another game, earning you to miss the hearts game.

❥ when you went back to the apartment the five of you were staying in you expected to see everyone. chota, karube, arisu, shibuki. everyone.

❥ instead, you were met with no one.

❥ panic hit you right away thinking the worst of the worst. ‘they couldve just been getting food right?’

❥ quickly whipping towards the door, you didnt know if you were safe or as you heard the door to the apartment open hurriedly.

❥ luckily you were.

❥ “oh my god arisu! where were you? wh- wheres everyone else-”

you were cut off from arisu walking towards you, pulling your face to his. his pull was harsh, though you knew he didnt mean it. the feel of his hands on the side of you cheeks were the opposite though. gentle, caring, loving, but.... they were..slightly shaking? before you pulled away, you felt a tear touch your cheek.

“why are you shaking? please tell me something..” you said to him looking in his eyes, trying to find anything other then the tears and almost numbness.

“theyre gone. y/n everyone is gone. but your not, oh thank god your not.” arisu cries. he puts his hands back on your cheeks but he doesnt kiss you this time. his eye just keeps darting all over you almost as if he was questioning if you were really there. “please- please will you be my partner?” he quickly asks breathing heavily.

“what?”

“loosing the others made me realize how much i actually love you i cant loose you i didnt and if i do i cant have you die not knowing how i feel about you”

“yeah- yeah! yeah ill be your partner” you conform as you drag him over to the couch in the middle of the room. when you guys lay down you end up spooning, him being the little. your arms get rapped in with arisu’s and he tightly grips both of your hands in his, burying his face between his chest and your arms. you press light kisses to his neck and into his hair as he slowly starts to get his breathing down.

you werent going to make him talk about anything. you figured if he wanted to he would. right now the two of you were fine like this. you tried to imagine what arisu went through, what happend, what happend to karube? he was your best friend. if you couldnt thank him for that you wouldve liked to at least thank him for getting you and arisu to where you are now.

you eventually get snapped out of your thoughts as you hear soft, even, quiet breathing. arisu had fallen asleep. in your arms. you sniffed slightly thinking about how karube would be making fun of you guys right now and the amount of sex jokes he would try.

you kiss arisu’s head again whispering a ‘i love you too’ into his hair before drifted off to sleep yourself.

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idontplaytrack · 28 days

Text

MY CHARMED ONE [7]

Capri Donahue x Harper Sibling!fem reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, coarse language

In which Capri tags along to celebrate Mrs. Harper’s birthday with the family.

“Are you sure it’s okay for Capri to come with us?” You ask.

“Of course, sweetheart.” Your Dad confirmed.

“Not you- Darby. Are you absolutely sure?”

“Given that she’s not a bitch anymore, sure, y/n. Of course I’m alright with that.” Darby jokes.

“Dad, she’s just joking.” You interjected before your Dad blew his top, “Right?”

“Yes!” Darby snorted laughing. “y/n, relax. I’m okay, for real.”

“Tell her we’ll be there in 15 minutes to pick her up.” Your Dad says.

“Will do.” You replied, sending Capri a voice message to inform her.

“Alright, let’s get going.” Your Dad grabs his car keys from the credenza, “After we pick up Capri, we need to stop at the flower shop.”

Once your Dad turned the radio on, a very familiar tune started playing through the speakers. “Mom’s favourite song.” You and Darby said, nearly at the same time. Your Dad turned the volume up as he started driving. And you, you were feeling a lot of different emotions. At first you felt a twinge of sadness, then you were a little happy and excited to go see her, and then the song started playing so you were back to sad. Darby seemed to be feeling the same, through her nonchalant facade. She gives your hand a squeeze and you lay your head on her shoulder. “Did I ever tell you I saw Mom when Capri took me to visit?”

“You did?” Darby asked.

“Yeah, I’ve never seen her before and I was really shocked, but apparently Capri felt something too? I guess she finally showed up because I really needed to see her.”

You saw your Dad glancing at the two of you through the rearview mirror. He smiled. “I’m glad you got to see her.” Darby rubs your arm.

“Me too, honey.” Your Dad quips.

When Capri’s house was in sight, Darby offers to sit up front so you could get a little bit of time alone with Capri. “No, it’s fine. I kinda just want to sit with you for a bit, y’know?”

“Okay.” Darby agrees.

“Hello, Capri.” Your Dad unlocks the doors.

“Hi, Mr. Harper.” She smiled, getting into the backseat with you and Darby. “Hi, honey.” She kisses you on the cheek. “Hey, Darbs.” Capri waved a bit.

“Hey.”

A little while later, the car pulls up outside the flower shop. Darby and your Dad went inside to get the flowers while Capri stayed with you. “Did you manage to get some sleep last night? Please tell me you did.”

“I took a couple of those melatonin chocolates and waited for it to kick in while I laid in bed with my eyes closed. So, yeah. I guess I did because when I woke up the sun was shining.”

Capri chuckles, “Good.”

“You know, after we visit my Mom, we’re going for a picnic.”

“That’s cool.” Capri intertwined your fingers with hers. “I remember you guys always went on a lot of those.”

“Yeah, we did.” You nodded, “Mom always made those peanut butter and Nutella sandwiches specifically for me. Darby hated those.”

————

“We’re gonna give you a minute, Dad.” Darby decided, leading you and Capri away so he could have some time alone with his wife.

The three of you watched while you all stood leaning against the car. “How are things with you and Alex?” Capri broke the silence.

“Pretty great. He’s out of town right now for a chess tournament so- I’m a little bored. Especially with you spending so much time with my sister and all lately. But that's a good thing considering how happy she's been since you two started dating."

"Well, if you two sisters want to hang out alone, don't hesitate to tell me to piss out." Capri jokes.

"Have either of you thought of college yet?" Darby asked next, earning an eye-roll from Capri.

"No?" You told her. "I'm actually not sure where I wanna go or if I even wanna go. But I'm worried Dad would insist I go anyway."

"You still have some time to decide. Don't worry too much about it now." Darby said back, "Capri?"

"I've been cheering my whole life so it would make sense if I continue and get into a school that offers a scholarship for that, most likely? San Diego state?"

"Makes sense." Darby shrugged, "But don't limit yourself to just that, you know?"

"Yeah. Capri, you're so smart. And if you feel like cheer isn't something you'd want to continue with anymore, don't force yourself to do it just because it's been a big part of your life. Things change." You chimed in.

"Thanks, guys." Capri smiled softly.

Your Dad walks closer, "Alrighty- you girls are up." "Darby, you go first." You told her and she went ahead. You watched with squinted eyes as the sun shone down on you all pretty harshly since it was nearly noon. After Darby was done, she started walking back. You let go of Capri's hand and walked up next.

"Hi, Mommy." You began speaking to her while sitting down, "It's been a few weeks since me and Capri came by. Happy birthday. I just wanted to tell you that I love you so very much and I miss you and think of you every day, mama. Darby brought up college but I'm not sure it'd be the right fit for me. Do you think Dad'll be okay with that?" You chuckled, sniffling, "I'm not even sure if you'd be 100% okay with it. In fact, I don't even know what I wanna be when I grow up. But somehow...I feel okay. I get good grades and I'm not too stressed about where I end up because being able to study and improve myself? Anywhere's just as good. I haven't seen you since that day, though. Think you could pop by in my dreams tonight...say hi and give me a hug? It's okay if you can't though. It's your birthday so you're probably partying up there and having fun. Which you totally should be, because you deserve it. Okay, bye Mommy. I'll be by again sometime. I'm gonna leave our favourite doll to play with, here with you, okay?"

"Okay, ready to go, sweetheart?" Your Dad asks once you got closer to them. "Yep." You nodded, looking away so you could hide the fact that you were tearing up. Capri wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. "You alright, baby?" She whispered. You gave her a nod as Darby opened the car door and got in. You climbed inside next, leaving Capri in the same seat she was in before.

"Picnic time, ladies." Your Dad took a deep breath, "Let's go have lunch." And so, the four of you end up at your family's favourite park for a nice afternoon together. "Here you go, y/n. Your favourite sandwich." Your Dad hands you a cling-wrapped peanut butter and Nutella sandwich which you excitedly accepted. "Ooh, I want one." Capri gasped. "Sure thing. We have plenty." Your Dad chuckles, "Sure you don't want one, Darbs? It's pretty dang good." "I'm good, thanks, Dad." She bites back a laugh, unwrapping her egg salad sandwich.

————

Awhile later, you've had your fill of snacks so you were now laying on Capri's lap while you chatted with your company. "Dad, remember last week you asked me about college?"

"Yeah?" He asks, taking a swig of seltzer.

"I'm not too set on going." You decided to just let the cat out of the bag. "I don't even know what I'm actually interested in. I don't want to force myself to go to school when I'm not certain I'll like what I'm studying."

"Well, your Mom and I have always emphasised the importance of education. But doing what fufills you is just as important. There are plenty of options."

"You're not mad?"

"Why would I be? Honey, your future is in your hands. Though, I'm always going to be here to help you."

"Thanks, Daddy." You smiled, relieved. And then Darby says, "I gotta be honest- seeing you two being all sweet together still screws with me sometimes. Like your attitude and y/n's are polar opposites."

"People will surprise you, Darbs. Get used to it- I'm gonna be around for a long time."

#auli’i cravalho #capri donahue #darby harper #darby and the dead #female reader #sibling reader #reader insert #x reader #lgbtqia #queer #wlw #wlw fanfic #fanfiction

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angy-mouse · 10 months

Text

Puck Bunny Part 3

5.7k, no smut but definite M-rated banter and important plot (unless you're just here for the foursomes in which case you can skip this chapter ig but its pretty integral for the finale)

do you wanna go on a date?

Read 5 Minutes Ago

You stared at the message, sent directly instead of through the group chat. As if that wasn't weird enough, you'd just gone on a date (with heavy air quotes) with the three of them and you had yet to get your panties back, thank you very much. You started drifting down memory lane and forced yourself to snap out of it. This was not lecture appropriate thinking.

You get another text.

with me, idk if that was obvious lol. sap + sam are stuck running drills all afternoon bc they suck

Okay, so not a group thing. That was good, at least. You might be able to walk after all. Except…

Honestly, you don't feel like sex. Not even mind-blowing, four-orgasms-in-a-row, written-by-a-woman sex. You were tired, and still sore, and really craving something fruity but also sweet? Maybe a chocolate orange. Point being you did not feel sexy and imagining a naked man only stirred thoughts of needing to buy lotion.

i was thinking shopping and dinner - my treat ofc - but whatever you want is cool too x

Fuck, you do need a sweater. Damn changing seasons making your sundress collection obsolete.

You flipped your phone over and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath and rolling your shoulders back. Fuck the rest of the lecture hall, you were aceing this class anyway and you needed to check in.

Do you want to see Punz today?

You didn't even have to think about it. Of course you did, you wanted to see all three of them and maybe shove your face in their perfectly perky pecs, but so far seeing them entailed sex, which you were not up for. You didn't think for a second that Punz wouldn't accept a no, but you were 50/50 on whether you would cave at the first touch just to experience that intimacy.

Call yourself a slut, but it was kinda hard to deny a man who acted like you were a literal goddess.

Next question: do you want to go on a date today?

As long as it was a date-date and not their last idea of a date, that would actually be nice. You were past the awkward small talk stage with Punz, so no fumbling or awkward silences should happen. Plus you already knew he would compliment you to the high heavens, which certainly couldn't hurt your mood.

So what were you waiting for?

You thought, but you couldn't find an answer. A handsome, fit guy who treated you amazing and was great in bed wanted to take you shopping and treat you to dinner. You'd have to be a fucking idiot not to.

You flipped your phone back over and found another text.

no pressure ofc, but id be a fucking idiot not to try spending time with you without the peanut gallery

You snorted, thumbs gliding over the screen to save him from his nerves. Even if he was cute when he rambled.

tbh shopping and dinner sounds exactly what I need rn

A beat where you thought too much and got lost for just a moment. You bit the bullet, putting a heart on the end and hitting send. Then, as an afterthought:

should I change?

what are you wearing?

For a moment you considered telling him you forgot about a lecture you can't miss, and you actually can't go and you're so sorry but maybe next time-

omg wait not like THAT

i just mean last two times i saw you you were wearing a cute asf dress and then that nice shirt with big sleeves and the black skirt so as far as im concerned anything you wear is perfect

He's talking about your lantern sleeve blouse. Something about the way he fumbles, not knowing anything about what things are called and only knowing that he liked them enough to remember makes you just melt.

oh lol well thank you. Did you wanna meet somewhere or…

The response is instant.

ill come pick you up! whens your last class get out?

You tell him and get a thumbs up and heart emoji pairing, then a gif of snoopy doing his happy dance that makes you laugh under your breath.

"Stop sexting in class,"

You flinch and clutch your phone to your chest before recognition kicks in and you glare at Niki. "I'm not sexting," you hiss. "Punz is picking me up for a date." She rolls her eyes. "An actual date." You didn't know why you needed her to be happy for you so badly. Maybe with both your long term best friend and slightly less long term boyfriend both kicked out of your life, you were just craving companionship. It would certainly explain your current disaster of a dating life.

"Okay," she says but it doesn't sound like she means it. "Just so you know, I only have one romcom binge weekend in me a year, so if this harem breaks your heart, too, you're on your own."

"I appreciated that, you know." She blinks like she wasn't expecting anything less than snark, but you meant it. You came into your dorm with eyes so full of tears you didn't even realize she was there until she was coaxing you into your PJs and shoving a carton of Ben & Jerry's into your lap. Suddenly your mysterious roommate you only saw once in a blue moon when your schedules rarely overlapped was the shoulder you were crying on, voice ringing through your ears promising you were still the baddest bitch and he was the loser here.

"It's no big deal," she finally decided. "You need to learn people don't deserve praise for not treating you like crap."

You didn't have a comeback for that, so you finished class in silence.

"Do I get to meet this one, too?"

You can't fight your smile. "You want to?"

"Gotta make sure you're not dropping your standards. Again."

"I changed my mind: fuck off." She curled her hands into a heart with a grin before you turned away, hearing her chase after you. 'Chase' very loosely translated to 'took four quick steps to easily catch up because she's a lot fitter than you.' Damn skinny people.

"If he just pulls up and honks, you are not getting in the car. Date ends there."

"Any particular reason?"

"A man who can't wait to get out of the car to greet you can't wait long enough for you to come."

You grinned over your shoulder as you walked into the afternoon sun. "Oh, believe me: not a concern."

"Ew,"

"You started it."

"And I'm finishing it."

Tires screeching on pavement caught your attention, just in time to watch two students nearly get run over by a cherry red Challenger. You bit your cheek. "You don't think…"

The car came to a stop right in front of the stairs (only because it was physically incapable of climbing them, you were sure) showing off the VAL-U sticker on the back window.

"I do think," Niki said solemnly. A single honk came from the car. "Oh, fuck no-"

"Niki, please," you begged as you watched Punz climb out of the driver's seat in a crisp collared shirt, buttoned only enough to be appropriate in public. You practically melted as he gave you that sparkling grin, running a hand through his blond locks as he climbed the stairs two at a time to join you.

"I had one rule for you-"

"Sorry," Punz breathed out, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek, close enough you could feel the faint heat rushing through his face. "I slammed my elbow on the horn trying to unplug my phone."

You'd be embarrassed by the loud snort that left you if you weren't so grateful it drowned out Niki's, "you're lucky, valley."

"You look beautiful." It was hard to believe when you'd just sounded like a literal pig. At least, it would be if he wasn't looking at you like you hung the stars, hands sliding back on either side of your waist until he was holding you gently against him. His lips ghosted over yours. "I missed you, bunny."

You missed him, too. “You saw me two days ago,” you say instead, but you let your hands link against the nape of his neck as he gives you a soft kiss. Something more than a peck, but nothing you were embarrassed to do in front of Niki. Something just right.

“And it was painful,” he announced, squeezing you tighter against him like he knew it would make you giggle into his neck. “Forty-eight hours with Big and Rich for company.”

“Are you ever going to run out of demeaning nicknames for them?”

“Haven’t yet. Hi-” It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to Niki over your head. “Friend?”

That one was directed at you, so you hum an affirmative and gently peel yourself away to run through introductions. Punz only lets you get out of one arm, the other moving to hang over your shoulders with a squeeze that clearly said ‘that one stays.’ “This is my roommate, Niki. Niki-”

“Punz,” she mused, offering her hand. “I know all about you.”

“Is this a shovel talk?”

“No. I don’t talk before shoveling.”

“Niki,” you beg, but Punz gives her a firm shake.

“Big fan of that,” he declared with a grin. “I’ve got a buddy with a truck, we should get you two in contact.”

She nodded solemnly. “Alright,” she directed at you, “you can go on the date.”

“Niki!”

She took your keys off your bag. “I’ll take your car back to the dorm. Don’t get pregnant.”

“NIKI!”

“Bye, Niki,” Punz cheered with a cackle, arm around your shoulders keeping you from chasing after her to commit some mild manslaughter. “Nice to meet you!”

“Don’t say, ‘nice to meet you,’ when she’s humiliating me.” You got a kiss pressed to the side of your head instead of an apology as he started down the steps, dragging you along with. The gentle pressure of his arm on your neck solidified your feeling like a yappy chihuahua being tugged along by the leash. It all felt a stark difference to the usual sultry air that followed you around these three. This actually felt like a… date. Not a sex on the nearest surface date, but a proper meet the parents soon date.

You tried not to think about how scary that was.

Instead, you thanked Punz as he held open your door, your hand in his as he helped you climb in. You held in a giggle as he shut the door behind you and raced around the hood like he was worried you’d leave without him. “What are we shopping for,” he asked as he threw himself into his seat, but you were distracted.

“Why do you have a suicide knob?”

He grinned, wide and toothy, tongue poking out as he used the knob to wiggle the steering wheel. “Because it’s fun.”

You buckled your seatbelt.

“Oh, come on,” he huffed, pulling out of the parking lot. “I’ve never gotten into so much as a fender bender with this car.”

“This car?”

“Don’t say it like that! I haven’t gotten into an accident since I was a teenager, is that better?”

“Yeah, and what are you now, twenty?”

“Twenty-five,”

“Oh my god, you’re old.”

You regretted it as soon as you said it. You were so not at the stage where you could make fun of each other and especially not something as potentially sensitive as his age and why he's still at University-

"Well, you're a brat, so I thought we made a good pair." There's a beat where your mind races, but Punz reaches over to take your hand off your lap and cuts it short. "That was a joke. I know you're not a brat."

"Only a little bit," you admit, and squeeze him back, a little promise that you didn't take it harshly. "If you were serious about taking me shopping, I could use some warm clothes for fall.”

The car pulled to a smooth stop at the light, and he fixed you with a look like you’ve accused him of secretly kicking puppies. “Dead serious. I love shopping.”

“You’re clearly very passionate about this.”

He took his stare off you to pull through the light, bringing your joined hands up to his lips. “Well, I have an addictive personality, a great credit score, and excellent fashion sense.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Hey, what’s with the doubt?!”

“Don’t get me wrong,” you promise, using your joined hands to gesture to his open shirt, “today’s pirate-with-no-inhibitions look is super sexy, and I’m a big fan of the pleather pants, but every other time I’ve seen you, you wore a hoodie and basketball shorts.”

“That’s not fair: you always see me after practice! I can't squeeze into these pants while I’m still sweaty.”

“Well, I’m very appreciative of your sacrifice.” You wait until he’s looking at you to pointedly eye up his thick thighs, practically seran-wrapped in black fabric. “Very appreciative.”

“Bunny’s secretly a pervert,” he accused, “God, I’m not a slab of meat.”

“Really?”

He finally broke, laughing so hard he hit the rumble strips and had to swerve back into the lane. “You’re such a little shit! You’re lucky it makes you lovable instead of annoying.”

“You three practically snap me in half every time I see you: I’m allowed some eye candy!”

“I’ll be your eye candy,” he promised, and flicked open another button on his shirt. “Boom.”

“Whoa, now,”

“Too hot?”

“I nearly creamed.”

“I hate you,” he wheezed, shoving the gearshift into park. “Get the fuck out of my car.”

“Rudeness!”

His hand snatched yours when you reached for the door. “Wait, I wasn’t serious!”

“I’m getting out!”

“No, wait for me!”

“I’m getting out, and I’m telling Sam you let me open my own door!”

“No, he’ll kill me!”

“Good!” Despite the snap, you can’t pry the smile off your face and you find yourself staying perfectly still in your seat as Punz races around the hood again. “Oh, Merci,” you chirped, taking his offered hand as you stepped out.

“De nada, my little bunny."

His arm laid across your shoulders again like you were boyfriend-girlfriend on an average date. He even reached out to open the door for you as you walked into the mall. But you weren't boyfriend-girlfriend, you were a puck bunny brat. "Every time I think you're kinda sweet, you call me that."

"It's a talent of mine: making an ass of myself. Where do you wanna look first?"

“I usually go to Salvation Army.”

Punz started walking towards the Aeropostale, dragging you along with. “I’m offended you think I’d offer to take you shopping and take you to Salvation Army.”

You started struggling, grabbing a fistful of his shirt to try and curb him. Your heels tried to find purchase on the tile, but he slid you across the floor like dragging a sled. “I’m a college student! And so are you, for that! I’m not letting you spend your food cash for the week on clothes for me- Jesus Christ, how are you this strong?!”

He stopped, but it had nothing to do with your attempts. He spun you in his arms as if you were nothing more than a doll to him, something he could carry with him and arrange however he wanted. The thought made you feel equal parts small and bratty, but his hands on your hips made you bite your tongue as he held you close. His eyes were stern, a slight tremble in his features betraying his nerves.

“Alright, I’m gonna tell you something, and I don’t want you to freak out.”

Oh, you were totally going to freak out.

“I didn’t want to say this so soon because it totally changes how people think of me, but you’re clearly going to fight me on this, so here it is.” He took a deep breath, eyes screwed shut in a wince. “I’m a trust fund kid. My parents are loaded.”

It didn’t click at first. Not until you blinked. “... oh my god?”

He nodded solemnly. “I know.”

It was a shock, the same way any new information about someone you knew was a shock: mild brain buffer as your mental file was updated. Other than that, though… You couldn’t seem to care. Other than, of course, another chance to mouth off. “Oh my god,” you performed, shaking his shoulders. “Eat the rich, Punz!”

“I’m not into butt stuff,”

“I hate you,” you lied, trying to push away. “I hate you and your gated mansion community-”

“I live in the frat house, it’s practically a homeless shelter.”

“You and your diamond studded underwear-”

“Where are you getting your information on rich people: Richie Rich?”

“You’re an old rich guy, too!” You gasped, clapping your hands on either of his cheeks. He gave a minor wince from the impact, but it was swept away just as quickly by rapt attention as you pressed your forehead to his. “Am I a sugar baby?”

“Well, you haven’t actually let me buy you anything yet-”

“Wrong answer.”

He shook his head between your hands, essentially making you slap him repeatedly. “No, bunny, you’re not a sugar baby, not in the slightest. Now, can I buy you more clothes than you can ever wear?”

Your gaze narrowed, but it probably wasn’t as intimidating as you hoped when you had to cross your eyes to look at him. “You swear your wallet won’t feel it?”

“May lightning strike me down.”

It took a moment, but with not even a rumble of thunder, you supposed you had to believe him. “Alright,” you conceded, “but we’re going somewhere that actually carries my size.”

<3E>

“I’ve never been in a Torrid,” Punz admits to you as you walk in.

“Really? You don’t lurk in the lingerie section hunting for big women?”

“There’s a lingerie section?” He’s too excited at the prospect to entertain your sass, but evidently not too excited to take the pants you were looking at right out of your hands. “You’ll have to try everything on for me. Even though I’m adamantly opposed to anything that covers your legs.”

You tried to take them back and he casually moved out of reach, adding a blazer to his haul. “Just because I’m built like an elephant seal doesn’t mean I’m actually insulated-”

“Hey-” You jump at the sudden appearance of a sales associate, a beautiful woman with an undercut and dangly earrings, and flush at the reminder that you were in public. She points an empty hanger at you sternly. “We don’t do self deprecation in here.” The hanger tip shifted over to Punz. “Are you not telling her how beautiful she is enough?”

You can feel your face turning purple as Punz claims, "I can't: I need to eat and sleep sometimes," and starts plucking one of everything off the racks without bothering to check sizes.

"Wha- Punz! Stop that! I don't need-"

"What you need is to let me love you!"

Undercut woman has a giant grin as she turns to walk away. "I'll get a dressing room open for you. Name for the door?"

"I don't need-"

If Punz wasn't trying to smother you in twisted affection, you might've started to get pissed off at the way he interrupted you again. "Bunny!"

"You're gonna get a foot up your ass in a minute here!"

"She don't bite," he insists, wrapping a thick arm around your neck to yank you against him. He starts pressing fat kisses to your hair, the kind where he just puckers his lips ridiculously and smacks them against you. The first few are gross. The next annoying. Then he starts cooing about she's just a sweet little thing and your attitude crumbles like a wall, entire body melting against him like a stray that's finally caving into affection.

You can feel his lips curl into a wide grin against your head, but you can't make yourself rebuild that wall when he's nosing your hair away from your ear so he can whisper, "are we done being a brat, baby?"

“...yeah,”

His finger crooked under your chin, gently lifting your lips to his for a soft kiss. “Yeah? My sweet girl’s gonna let me dress her up?”

My girl.

You stole another kiss, dropping one on Punz’s jaw as you pulled away for good measure. “At least grab the right size, you big lug.”

You may as well have promised him a puppy. His grin stretched wide across his face, bottom lip pulled between his teeth before he ducked his head, hiding from you. He nuzzled into your neck, puckering his lips so they just barely grazed your jugular, feeling your pulse race. “Yay,” he murmured, arm around your shoulders sliding down your back until he could grip your soft waist. “Because as hot as you look in this dress, I don’t approve of how the leggings hide away our tummy.”

“You mean my tummy?”

“I’m filing for joint custody. You don’t appreciate her enough.”

“I appreciate her just fine. It- fuck me, now I’m doing it! Give me something to put on!”

He cackled, tugging your collar aside to check the tag and leaving you to rifle through the racks. “I’m gonna build you some outfits,” he promised, flicking through some camisoles to add to his armful. “And I wanna see every single one.”

“I thought you wanted to make it to dinner at some point.”

He found one in your size and handed you the completed stack. “Then you’d better run that cute ass into a stall for me. Ooh, swimsuit sale!”

You huffed and rolled your eyes all the way to the back of the store and all the way into the dressing room until the door was shut behind you. You only allowed yourself the time it took to strip and redress to think about how warm you felt inside. How nice it felt to have someone who wanted to drape you in silks and pouted when you made him settle for overpriced plus-size fashion. Someone who was ready to watch you try on one of everything, knowing full well how long it’d take.

You settled the blazer over your shoulders and turned to the mirror, lips pressing together.

By no means were you ashamed of your body… but you leaned more towards ‘screw the world I don’t owe it to you to fit your beauty standards’ and less towards ‘I’m fat and fuckable.’

The flared pants sat just too low to tuck away your muffin top. No matter how you tugged on the camisole, it couldn’t cover that inch of skin- unless you wanted to walk around with your bra out.

“Shoppin’ for my baby!” Your gaze snapped to the door, hearing the rhythmic shuffle of feet. “Shoppin’ for my bunny!” You slapped a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing- if he heard you, he might stop singing. “Shop ‘til you drop! Bop-bop-bop! Gonna get a crop- top! Yeah, I could’a been a rapper. Fuckin’ missed my calling.”

“You so did,” you called out, threading the buttons on your blazer as you bumped the door open. “What would your rapper name be?”

“Lil’ Pucky,” he called back without hesitation as he turned. Blood rushed through your ears as his jaw dropped open, eyes cruising up and down your form so intensely you worried you’d forgotten to put clothes on at all. “Hello, bunny.”

“Hi,” you giggled. You gave a twirl and laughed when a swoon of “oh, ass,” passed his lips. “You like?”

“I love.” He groped for your waist, pulling you into his chest until you could feel his heartbeat through your right tit. “I changed my mind: you can wear pants, but only these.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yup.”

“These are better than the leggings?”

“Leggings are too tight. Anything that delays me from getting in your guts for more than six seconds is going in the bonfire.”

Your hand came down on his shoulder and he pretended it hurt, stumbling into one of the plush chairs. “That’s why you wanted to take me shopping! You figure if you buy me enough, you can get rid of everything you don’t like!”

He couldn’t even pretend to feel guilty, a grin wider than a fucking canyon stretching across his face. “It’s gonna be short dresses and tight pants if I have my way.”

“And what makes you think you’ll get your way?”

He held out his hand, a silky two-piece bathing suit with a halter strap top and a skirt layered with frills dangling from his fingers. “Because I found this in your size-” his other hand revealed a mesh shopping bag half full, “and enough panties for Sam to steal as many as he wants.”

You accepted the swimsuit to try on, but gave an apologetic smile. “I’m very picky about my underwear: I don’t want you to be upset if I don’t wear what you pick out for me, okay?”

“Don’t worry, I’m working off a reference.”

There’s two beats where you process his words before you’re beating him with the swimsuit. “You’re the one who ended up with my panties?!”

Punz didn’t even move to block your hits, hand coming up to lay over his heart. “I pledge my allegiance every morning, first thing.”

“Where did you hang them?!”

<3E>

“I can carry something, you know.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” Punz piled the bags all onto one arm as if he took your offer as a personal offense to his strength and very manhood, looping the other around your waist. “Taking a fine lady out and making her carry her own bags- who do you think I am?”

You’re getting used to his dramatics: you barely acknowledge him as a stall catches your eye. “Ooh, boba!”

His arm doesn’t budge around you, but it doesn’t keep you in place like you’ve experienced before. Your path shifts towards the drink shop and his elbow pulls straight for barely a second before he shifts right with you, letting you lead him wherever you desired. “That milky stuff with the gross balls?”

“Yes, but no.” There’s laminated menus on the tables so you pick one up and scan the flavors. “You’re thinking milk tea with tapioca pearls. I get fruity tea with popping pearls.”

“You’re really cute, but I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I’m gonna blow your mind right now.” You slipped your card out of your purse as you walked up to the counter to make sure Punz knew you were buying this time. “Hi, can I get a large strawberry fruit tea with green apple pearls?”

He barely gets out the total and asks for a name for the order before Punz slaps his card on the machine from the side. "'Punz': exactly how it sounds, but with a 'Z'."

"I was gonna pay for it, asshole!" The only response you get from him is his signature on the pad- which is nothing more than a colon and a 'P'. You stuck your tongue out right back, skipping out of reach to snatch up a straw from the pick-up counter. "You're gonna let your guard down sooner or later."

"You make it sound like you're gonna kill me." You drag the straw across your throat. "Wow," he snorted, pecking the tip of your nose, "total savage."

“I know. I’m totawy scawy.”

“Fwightening.”

“You’re a dork,” you informed him with a huff of laughter, stabbing your drink as soon as it arrived. “Poison check,” you claimed, taking the first sip. You skewered a pearl for him before handing it over. “Alright, taste that thang.”

You waited eagerly as the straw passed his soft lips, on the edge of your nonexistent seat as he took his first sip.

He shrugged. “Yeah, it’s alright.”

You rescued your drink before smacking his arm. “No taste!”

“It’s about as good as fruit can get, but it still tastes like fruit. Give me a burger any day.”

“I’ve never met such a dumb man,” you huffed, sipping for yourself.… Okay, so it had too much ice, but it was still delicious!

“Liar,” Punz accused as you started your walk again. “You’ve met Sapnap.”

You bumped into him with purpose. “Yeah, but it’s cute on him.”

“Ouch, you’re really wounding my pride there, bunny,” he drawled, making sure his sarcasm seeped through every word. “As if I could be jealous of Sappy.”

You could feel your lips curling into an evil grin around your fat straw before the thought of what to say even formed. “I don’t know: he’s cute, and strong, and a gentleman, and he’s great with his tongue-”

“Alright, you’re pushing it!” A cry left your lips as he snatched your cheek, pinching only hard enough to pull it around a bit. “Talking about another freaking guy this much, even if he is my teammate-”

“Leggo uh meee!”

He gave another yank before releasing you with a huff. “Such a little brat…”

His tone changed. It was slight, but there was a definite change- enough to make you stop and backtrack. Did you push too far? Was he actually insecure and being compared to Sapnap was a jab in the gut? Or maybe he was just getting sick of your attitude when he was treating you like a princess.

“I’m sorry.” Punz let out a small noise from the back of his throat that you took as prompting to continue. “I don’t know why I even said that, but I’ll try not to be such a- such a brat.”

“It’s okay,”

“It’s not-”

“Why are you upset?” He turned to look at you properly, pulling you to a stop once he saw your expression.

You huffed, frustrated that you had to say it out loud, but more frustrated at yourself. “Because you’re wonderful to me-” His hand came up to your cheek, warm and soft, and suddenly your eyes were clouding up. “And you don’t deserve all the snapping I do-” There’s a lump growing in your throat. “And I don’t even know why I say that kind of shit because I’m having a great time with you-”

“Oh, honey bunny.” You caught a glimpse of his handsome face twisted into concern before he was pulling you into a nook for some semblance of privacy, setting your bags on the floor before hauling you tight against his chest. “Oh, you’ve really worked yourself up over this, huh?” You know it’s not really a question, but you find you’re nodding into his shoulder anyway. You don’t even feel like you’re crying: there are tears streaming out of your eyes, but that’s it. Almost like someone’s left the faucet on and forgot about it.

Punz’s lips press firmly against your head, hands rubbing circles against the tense muscles in your back, like he was trying to find the button that would make it all better. “Can I tell you something, bunny?” His lips briefly twitch into a tiny smile when you nod mindlessly against his shirt. “I know you’re having a good time. And I am, too. And I know you just like chatting shit. Makes you feel strong, huh? Like you’re big and in charge?” You didn’t even realize it before he put it into words, but he was exactly right, earning another nod. “And you wanna know something else?

“I like chatting shit, too.” You pull back as you realize the tears have stopped, and he only lets you go a few inches before he’s holding you still with warm hands on your waist. “The boys told me all about your drive before our movie night. You know how Sammy threw his little tantrum over your seatbelt?” His choice of words pulls a throaty laugh from you that makes him grin. “We all want different things when we’re with you, bunny. Sam wants to make sure you’re taken care of, so when you brat, he’s gonna nod and take it until you run out of steam and ask him nicely, then he’ll give you anything you want.

“But I kinda like to fight, bunny. Nothing mean, but when you poke me, I wanna poke back. I think it’s fun just like you do, and I think we could have a good time pushing each other to the limit to see who gives.” His lips twitched. “Now, Sappy: I think that boy just wants to die under a big woman, so you gotta watch out for him, make sure he’s still breathing when you sit on him-”

You try to smother your laughter because this is serious, but then you’re imagining a headline that says, ‘Local Man Attempts Suicide By Pussy,’ and you break into manic giggles that send you right back into Punz’s chest as he laughs with you. His hand rubbed up and down your back, slow and soft, melting your form against his.

You turned your head once the giggles calmed down, taking a deep breath of his cologne while you listened to his heart. “I still feel bad,” you admitted. “Like I pushed too far.”

“I promise you didn’t, baby.” The speed of his answer makes you melt just a bit more. “I get being worried about it, though, because I do, too…” He hummed as he thought. “Sappy said you guys decided on a safe word?”

You nodded against him. “Pineapple,”

“Pineapple. Okay, so how about we both promise that if the other crosses a line, we say ‘pineapple.’ Then we know it’s an actual ‘no’ and not just more playing. How’s that sound?” You give another nod that he returns with a squeeze. “You want me to take you home, baby?” You’re shaking your head without a second thought, pressing yourself deeper against him. You get another squeeze in response, a silent, ‘I won’t leave you.’ “You wanna get some dinner?”

You forced yourself to pull away, his fingertips trailing over your body as long as they can until they hook onto yours. You beamed at him. “That sounds really nice, old man.”

Punz laughed. “Let’s go, then, brat.”

#angymouse #puckbunny #punnysqueaks #minors dni #mcyt smut

36 notes · View notes

quirkthieves · 2 months

Note

👫+ monoma & kiri / kaiba & marik / ishizu

this has to be under a cut i got out of hand

ISHIZU & KAIBA

i think the moment she met him she went into older sister mode. not out of like, a need to baby him or whatever its actually the opposite he is so machiavellian and uppity and willing to escalate a situation that she was just like right yeah this is exactly how marik is. hes at that age, where boys like to blow up buildings in death matches.

for the aforementioned reason i think thats also why he gets to see a slightly more impish side to her she doesnt really share often. the banter is dry and fast she has said "skill issue" to him at least once and she absolutely does stunt on him whenever she manages to even slightly best him in anything. shes rambling about predynastic art and taking forever to get to her point on purpose. and when i think he and her are an absolute menace to joey like his va and her va did a duel once in character and she was murdering him verbally. at one point they were talking about the north american tournament and joey was like "yeah they wouldnt let me enter cuz my decks got banned cards in it" and shes like "joey if you entered even with your current deck you wouldnt win" and he was like "what? why do you say that? did your necklace tell you that?" and she said "no, I just used common sense." . i could feel her and kaiba high fiving on that one i saw it so clearly

also i really like how in battle city we see that like, especially after their duel and as the marik v yugi fight looms ever closer that she and kaiba genuinely talk strategy on the side. she and him are standing on opposite sides of the ring than yugis gang, like, given her whole thing you think shed be kicking it with them but now she and kaiba are gossiping and speculating and i think that shows that he genuinely respects her skill as a duelist even if he thought the fate stuff was bullshit. he knows her meta game was crazy real recognizes real.

theyre gonna have a really, really long talk after dsod.

MARIK & KAIBA

as above i think the two of them are very similar and i think that pisses them both off. they absolutely refuse to acknowledge it like if you said that theyd snort with derision and be like im nothing like him [insert snide remark here] but thats exactly what i mean. for that reason you cannot just leave them to their own devices together its going to get ugly, or if they have a mutual enemy, felonious. both of them designed Saw Games for yugi.

that being said i do think they should be on a podcast together to talk about like, duel monsters news and commentate on tournaments and stuff like the one-liners would be VICIOUSSSSSSSS . it would be like a frenemies situation i think.

he still feels. REALLY bad about the whole "maiming if not murdering" some of the medical staff on the battle city blimp and he has like, no idea how to broach that topic like if he should send a gift basket or apology text or what so like, hes pretty awkward around kaiba at least at first and is kinda just waiting for the day he brings it up. u said kaibas keeping that as an iou in his back pocket and i agree.

i think the ishtars sometimes hang out with (babysit) mokuba and whenever ishizu and rishid wont let him do something he goes to marik because marik 100% enables younger brother behavior . hes taken him on motorcycle rides. he probably showed him how to forge papers at some point. its really educational

MONOMA & KIRISHIMA

so like. ok hear me out. im about to grab manga panels you know this shit is about to be so for real serious. so like i talk a lot about the team up mission chapter where class a is nice to monoma and he freaks it but id like to bring up that kirishima is one of the main three actors of this plan, esp during the phase where they're trying to gather info on what monomas "secret message" is. deku asks monoma how hes feeling, and monomas like....im not fucking telling you that. so,

(condensed version for time and space). but the important part here is that while deku and Iida fail to engage Monoma in normal conversation because Monoma doesn't have normal conversations with Class A, when Kirishima is like "dude just fucking punch me" Monoma is vaguely confused but goes all in, despite the fact that fist fighting Kirishima is probably more of an immediate threat to his health and safety than talking about his feelings.

so what I'm getting at here is that like, I think Kirishima is fundamentally more capable of communicating with Monoma than maybe other members of Class A not despite the sourness between them but because of it. While Kirishima is kind enough at his core to do this because they think Monoma's in danger (and because they think figuring it out will make him...stop. the things he does.), he also has picked up on the fact that communication with Monoma, even well-meaning, has to be delivered in an antagonistic manner, because he has already done the back-and-forth bickering with Monoma that makes his world go round, unlike Iida and Midoriya.

So I think even though they dislike each other, ironically, Kirishima's better at getting a read on him than a lot of other people.

um. I'm just gonna keep going till it loosely approximates four ideas im in too deep. anyways. It's also important to remember that the remedial classes in the forest training camp were fucking LONG. They were four hours a night. That is.a LOT of acute Monoma exposure for the Class A flunkies late into the evening and we know from the light novels that during that time, he was getting up to mischief and frequently taking "restroom breaks" in which he went and cheated in games on behalf of his classmates who did not know he was doing this. but again anyway the point is that kirishima was. very early on introduced to and spent extended periods with monoma's particular brand of crazy and this would only be even more relevant if hes friends with tetsutetsu, who monoma is also fairly close with. i think thats kinda why we see a willingness for kirishima to get up in his personal space more:

which like, watch out kirishima you may be roped into the monoma handler crew. but like i think a lot about that and like, how kirishima actually tries to explain it to monoma even though as someone who has acute monoma toxicity poisoning he knows this is a very futile effort because kirishima is someone who, actively, is trying to be the manly guy he idolizes, but god, this motherfucker does make it really hard sometimes. most of the time. every time. he is trying to give him the benefit of the doubt because maybe one day it will be different but he does not have his hopes up and he does not know what is wrong with this dude.

which leads me into the next thing i think, sort of along the same lines as bakugou although not as much, monoma does both envy and admire kirishima for being one of the "strong". naturally he'd rather chew his own hands off than say it, but i also dont think he's picked up on the fact that kirishima is the way he is in a very deliberate manner, like that, he worked to be the person he is today and continues to do so. i think if he did know, monoma would respect him a lot more, because he really admires that kind of self-determination and deeply wishes he, too, could form that strong of a personal identity. again, he probably really wouldnt.... express it that well? like i think maybe monoma admiring your strong traits more is kind of a fast track to him being even more annoying because he is truly instinctively a little hater . but he doesnt actually dislike kirishima for any personal reason, like, he has no qualms with kirishima as a person-- he himself is good friends with tetsutetsu. it's solely the class a thing, and the fact that monoma cant really detangle those feelings of jealousy and admiration. he doesnt really care what kirishima thinks of him, but he does make more of an effort when he engages in his antagonism with kirishima, because hes feeling like "look, i want to stand on ground with you as an equal, i see you as strong enough to be worth putting the energy into this rivalry, youre so cool that i feel like im strong if i can keep up with you" except even he doesnt know this is what hes thinking and nobody really wants this. but i dont think he could even really bring himself to HATE hate kirishima or even match his pure dislike as an individual because monoma has no reason to. hes just an awful little man.

also monoma pesters him a lot because he really really likes his quirk. you should be honored kirishima , really. its really fun to him. naturally he does use it for mischief but even non mischief reasons he just thinks its neattttt hes probably got him some deku-style notes about it. its also probably why monoma would tag along on any training tetsutetsu invites him to do with kirishima around bc otherwise he would be like . why would i want to be sweaty and around those despicable clowns when i dont even have to be. <- knows he has no chance of winning a sparring match and is not even going to try

#RABBIT HEART://ISHIZU HC #NEEDLES://MARIK HC #IMPERFECT CACKLES://MONOMA HC #resolutepath

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charlescoded · 1 year

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“is now a bad time to tell you i’m claustrophobic?” for my claustrophobic ass? 😂 any pairing you want (side eyeing charles/jason for example 👀)

!!! ellie my beloved!!!!! you tempted me to write jason, how can i ever resist that~? can't believe it got this long tho, it took me like 3 hours to write 😅

FORCED PROXIMITY PROMPTS ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🐚 ꒱ -- found here!

“Aha!” Charles quietly celebrates, barely able to slip through the closing doors of the elevator. The rickety old thing would take forever to return to the bottom floor if he'd missed it, so, like he's been a lot lately, he'd made a mad dash to the doors when he saw someone step inside.

He gives himself a moment to catch his breath, flushing slightly when he sees someone looking at him. "Désolé," Charles mutters, and behind the book the guy is holding, he can see his lips quirk up in amusement.

"You're fine." He dismisses, his French slightly accented. Charles briefly wonders if he's from up north.

The elevator creaks as it starts moving and Charles rests his back against the wall, turning his attention to his phone. He barely gets the time to reply to some messages congratulating him on his pole position before the elevator comes to a sudden halt.

Charles frowns when the doors remain closed.

"Are we stuck?" He asks, not really expecting an answer.

"...Might be, try some buttons?"

He moves to the panel and presses the open button. Then the button of the current floor. Then, when nothing seems to work, on the phone. A voice springs up, and to Charles relief, informs them that they're already working on the issue.

"Half an hour of waiting isn't too bad." He says once the call ends, turning back around.

The guy lets out a humourless laugh. "...Is now a bad time to tell you I’m claustrophobic?"

Charles finally looks more closely at the guy. Black hair with a white streak right at the front, sunglasses, a leather jacket, but... his skin looks unnaturally--almost sickly so--pale. Shit. That's not good.

"Uhm," He wrecks his brain trying to figure out what to do. "Distractions help, right?"

The guy smiles, uneven, and shrugs his shoulders. "I'll be fine." Charles isn't entirely sure if that's a lie or not, but he watches as he takes off his sunglasses first, and then his jacket. Charles would consider him quite handsome with his strong cheekbones and startling blue eyes if he didn't look so uncomfortable. Underneath his leather jacket, he's wearing a red sweater with a collared shirt, a stark contrast to the bad boy look he had earlier.

When he sits down, Charles joins him against the back wall. "What's your name?"

"Jason," The guy--Jason--looks at him, but Charles doesn't see any recognition. "Yours?"

"Charles," And to keep the conversation going: "What brings you to Monaco?"

Jason snorts. "What brings most people here? It's a beautiful city." For whatever reason, he sounds sardonic, like he's telling the truth, but there's something more to do it.

"Around this time of the year, most people come for the grand prix."

"To watch you race, yeah, I get that," Charles blinks in surprise. And here he thought Jason didn't know who he was. "Your face is plastered all over the city, it's kinda hard to miss." Jason adds when he sees Charles' questioning look.

"Oh, yes, of course, that makes sense." He rubs the back of his neck. "Do you watch, then?"

Jason shakes his head. "Haven't had the time in years. Alonso was still with Ferrari. I did get to see him take a podium in COTA, back then."

Charles grins at him. "Does that mean you're a Alonso fan, or a Ferrari fan?"

He rolls his eyes, but there's a small smile on his lips anyway. "It was both. Ferrari has always been the team to root for where I grew up," He explains, before switching to Italian, "Forza Ferrari, and all that."

"Your accent is really good," He replies, also in Italian.

"Thanks," Jason smiled a bit bemused. "How about my French accent?"

Charles opens his mouth to reply before shutting it again. What is that supposed to mean? "It is good, also..?"

Jason's eyes light up as he grins. "You thought I was French?"

He curses himself. "Your French is very good! How am I supposed to know?"

"I'm American," He says, in English this time. And when Charles' eyes widen in horror, Jason's grin widens further, delighted, teasing, "Oh that's cute, so you thought I was Italian after that."

Charles groans and rubs his hands over his red face. "I did not realise, okay? Your accent is very believable..."

At least, Charles thinks to himself rather sourly, at least the distraction is working.

"Pretty funny, though," He points out, and then laughs when Charles makes a face at him. "C'mon, it's not that bad. You could have--," The elevator jumps once, and Jason flinches harshly, grabbing hold of Charles' arm without warning.

Before Charles has the time to say anything, Jason lets go off him, the colour that had been returning to his face draining away again. "Sorry," He mumbles, voice slightly shaky.

"Hey, it's fine," He shifts closer until their shoulders are touching. "We're going to okay, you know this, right?"

Jason leans his head back against the wall. "Yeah, I know... Still don't like it, though. But," He clears his throat. "I'm glad I'm not alone."

Charles gives him a weak smile. "Will you be fine, once we're out?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll just need a moment. Drink something--Eat something too, that's even more important."

"Are you staying nearby?" He doesn't have anything food-related with him, but once the doors open, he can get something from his apartment if he needs to.

Jason nods slowly. "I'm staying in an apartment here, 8th floor. I'll grab a small snack and then cook a late dinner."

At the reminder that he hasn't eaten dinner either, Charles' stomach grumbles, and he lets out a soft groan of embarrassment. "Yeah, I should do that too."

The elevator creaks again, and this time, Charles offers his arm for Jason to grab hold off. The sound keeps going for a little bit, and then finally, finally, the elevator starts moving again.

"Oh thank fuck," Jason breathing out, and Charles lets out a startled laugh in response. The relief was palpable.

He gets up and offers his hand, which Jason takes, and he helps him up as well. Jason gives him a grateful smile in return.

When the doors open on their floor, Jason says something under his breath that sounds suspiciously similar to 'at least it's not as dramatic as bursting open a coffin' and they get out.

"Didn't take as long as they said," He comments, when he looks at the time on his phone.

"Thank the heavens for that." Jason grins at him, and he's still looking a bit pale, and now a bit tired as well, but it's better, much better than before. "Hey, how can I thank you?"

Charles blinks. "Thank me? I was just trying to help."

"How about I cook for both of us?" He offers.

"Oh, really, you don't have to do anything for me." Charles gives him a smile, not entirely sure why he'd want to.

Jason looks at him, his blue eyes scrutinising. "Well, I know that, but I'd really like to thank you for helping me, Charles, to show you my appreciation. That, and I'm a pretty good cook."

And oh. Is he flirting with Charles? He's not entirely sure, but he can't exactly say no to good food either.

"I'll be the judge of that," He says cheekily. "But fine, if you give me the time to go home and shower, I will come over after."

"Fine with me," Jason agrees easily. "I'm staying in 816, so I'll see you in a bit."

Charles smiles in return. "See you soon."

Huh. Maybe that rickety old elevator isn't so bad after all.

#answered ask #my writing #jaycharles #idk that's what i'm going to call it #hope you like it dear <3

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roxie-roo · 1 year

Text

Bird of Prey Chapter Five: The Long Road Home

(taglist: @carry-on-my-wayward-gays, @bluiex, @devorakian-guilt, @teslapenguini, @majickth )

When Jimmy awoke, it wasn't white. It wasn't as quiet as it had been. Faintly, he could hear the little whispered murmurs of the void around them. He stood up slowly and cracked his back, fluffing out his wings and stretching a little to get his body back into motion. In the distance, he could make out two figures. A Watcher, purple eyes shimmering around their body, and a Listener, golden wings glowing dimly against the light of the void. Jimmy carefully approached them, and both looked over to him, welcoming him with broad smiles.

"Hey, there he is!" Grian laughed softly and clapped a hand against Jimmy's back lightly. "The man of the hour! You won, Tim!"

"I did?" Jimmy tilted his head. "We went out together, though.."

"He died a bit before you." Martyn explained. "Congrats, Jimmy.. you earned this."

Jimmy smiled a little bit, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah... n- no hard feelings, right you guys?"

"Of course not." Martyn shook his head. "Cleo was acting like a bitch anyways.. I needed that wakeup call."

"Are you kidding, Tim? I'm so proud of you." Grian smiled and yanked Jimmy into a hug, snorting as he heard his friend let out a squawk. "That was your moment.. and you owned it! And- don't worry. They got your message loud and clear. You're alright. I promise."

Jimmy slowly melted into the embrace and grinned, content to stay like that until he heard Martyn clap and clear his throat.

"So! What'cha got planned now, Jim?"

"I... I dunno..." He hadn't really given it much thought, now that he looked at it. He was more focused on the game, and on Tango. Not on what comes after.

Grian hummed in thought. "It's been a thousand years in Empires since the first season... no one will remember the Codfather, y'know. Well- Except Pix, maybe, but y'know. That's Pix for ya."

"Yeah..." Jimmy smiled. Going back to Empires sounded fun. And maybe he'd build a new ranch, something to dedicate to the one who showed him what freedom truly felt like.

Freedom. The word felt foreign now that he had it, in all honesty. But he couldn't be happier, he decided. This was freedom.

Freedom in going back to Empires, becoming a sheriff. A promotion from being just a plain rancher.

Tango would be so proud.. He found himself thinking.

Tango would be proud of him for more than that. He'd been actually standing up for himself, moreso than he used to. Even if half the time it fell on deaf ears. He was at least trying.

Often times he found himself thinking about his soulmate. He'd zone out in the middle of a work day, mentally back in the old ranch, Tango by his side. It almost physically ached sometimes.

"Sheriff?" Fwhip had caught him zoned out, waving a hand in front of his face. "What'cha thinkin' about?"

Jimmy couldn't lie to him. Not that it wasn't easy, he just felt this wasn't something he needed to lie about. "My soulmate..."

Fwhip looked up at Jimmy with almost a child-like(or maybe cat-like) curiosity. "Soulmate?" His eyes flickered towards the ring on Jimmy's left hand. "What's a soulmate?"

Jimmy paused at the question. He couldn’t help smiling as he leaned against the wall of the cave. "Well,, a soulmate.. at least from my experience, is the most wonderful person in the world..."

"I'm Jimmy,, real nice to meet you."

"Tango. You're kinda cute, yknow."

"Very funny."

"Sometimes the universe assigns you exactly who you needed."

"You paired me with Tango?"

"Yeah, I did. Saw you two eying each other up during Last Life."

"The person you needed the most in your life... they make you feel safe. And warm.. and loved, most of all. No matter what."

"Never love a canary... they're meant for the coalmines."

"I'll be your coalmine, then."

"He sounds great.." Fwhip broke the sheriff from his thoughts with a little tug to his vest. "Come on though- we got work to do!"

"Right- right-" Jimmy followed him quickly. And for a while, neither said a word. Until Fwhip looked up at him again.

"Do you think you'll ever see him again?"

Jimmy hadn't given it much thought. He'd like to see Tango again. He hoped it'd be possible eventually, maybe before the next death game.

Would Tango even recognize him? He hadn't changed a whole lot, he wanted to think. Blond hair, blue eyes, a blue bandana.. the only real differences were the sheriff hat, the badge, a bit of stubble at his chin and... of course.

The wings. He'd lost his wings in the journey over. Things hadn't started by the time he got to Empires, so he had time to stop and rest at a town for a bit. There, he learned the consequences of upsetting a rigid status quo.

Maybe it was a punishment from the Watchers.

He couldn't say for certain. He realized Fwhip still wanted an answer, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh.. right.. I- I hope so... I hope I can see him again.." He managed a little smile. "Maybe some day.."

He didn't expect it to be the day of the rift, the festival, after he'd been pushed around by practically everyone.

First, it was a laugh and teasing from Grian, hearing him yell "You're not even safe in your own server!". They laughed and hugged and exchanged playful jabs. And then he heard it.

"Is that my rancher?!"

His head whipped up to see who had called for him. And lo and behold.

He sprang forward into Tango's arms, the ice mage spinning him in delight as he cupped his face and kissed him. With all the sweet tenderness that had built up in the time they'd been gone.

He could hardly hear the jabs of those around them. All he could see was Tango.

His soulmate. His rancher.

He was home.

(A/N: hey all!!! glad to see how much you've been enjoying this fic, and now it's come to a close. It's been a fun mini project to work on! If any of you want to write anything based on it, feel free!! All I ask is that you tag me, and use the Bird of Prey au tag ! Special thanks to @carry-on-my-wayward-gays, for encouraging this, I'm glad you've been having a good time with it <3 That's all from me for now! Au Revoir, mes amis!)

#roxie's writing #double life smp #double life fic #double life jimmy #Bird of Prey au

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quotethemenevervore · 1 year

Text

Hey @squishys-soft-stories I said this weekend but I really meant tonight

Content warnings: soft, safe, g/t vore, very slight mention of unsafe vore, injuries, panic, fear, and a temporary character death

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was a fairly good morning, the fiancés sleeping in and cuddling. Karl had elected to store them for the night, and the two remained within. The shapeshifter knew that they should get up, they should get ready for the day, but he couldn’t bring himself to really care, staying curled up with his arms wrapped around his middle. At least, until his vision blacked out, making him bolt upright in a panic, only for the black to fade to a familiar swirling pattern of teal and purple.

“Karl!?” “Karl, are you okay!?” He couldn’t hear them over the static and his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

No, no no no no no! Not now!

The other two had been sleeping peacefully, until their surroundings suddenly tossed them around. They landed with a soft thud, the avian sprawled out atop the fireborn. “What the hell!?” Quackity had gotten ready to cuss the other out, sitting up to let Sapnap get back up. Or he planned on it, before the walls went completely dark, a first since the fiancés had started doing this. “What-“ the colors were pulsing again, but they weren’t good ones. Dark blues and purples, blood reds… it worried the two, especially when they picked up on the rapid breathing. “Karl, what’s going on?” The only response they received was the sudden onslaught of purple liquid, followed by the space around them shrinking and losing the colors it once showed, leaving the fleshy red of.. oh.

“Karl, what’s going on out there!?” “Sapnap?” He turned to look at the avian, who looked worried and confused out of his mind, and it then registered that he wouldn’t know about the potion. He’d never told him.

“Karl’s in his human form.” Quickly cutting off the shocked sound the blackette made, he added, “But we’re not in any danger. The potion he drank shuts his system down. He can’t absorb anything.” “How do you know that for sure?” “Dream’s tested it. Hell, he’s used it on me before.” “I thought that was just admin crap he pulled to keep you safe?” “No.” He turned back to pressing against the walls around him, yelling out for his panicked fiancé once more. “Karl, talk to us! Did something happen?” Something pressing into him, and decreasing their space to move, answered him. “Karl!” Quackity tried yelling, hoping he could get an answer if Sapnap couldn’t.

The fireborn’s communicator went off, and he checked it to find that Karl had finally reached out to them.

You guys need to stay as quiet and still as possible. We’re all going to be in serious danger if not.

“What does it say?” Sapnap slapped a hand over the avian’s mouth, showing him the message. He could see the conflict on the other’s face before he retrieved his own communicator.

Do you think he’s traveling again?

Why else would he tell us to do this? Everyone else kinda knows at this point.

Shit. What are we gonna do? We can’t stay here that long, can we? How long do these usually last?

The last one took like two weeks before he came back.

He saw the look of distress that overtook his fiancé’s face, scooting over to tug the other into a side hug. Resting his head on his shoulder, he typed out another message.

It’ll be okay. The potion can’t wear off unless it’s deactivated, and I know Karl won’t put us in danger.

He took the communicator from the fireborn, typing another message out.

But how are we going to keep still for two weeks? And what about when we need to eat? Are we just gonna starve?

I.. don’t know. Karl will figure something out, though. You just gotta put some faith in him, he’s done this multiple times.

I know. I trust him.

With a quiet snort, Quackity typed another message out.

I feel like we’re gonna want to do nothing but sleep when we get out of here.

I’m ready to sleep now.

With that, he shut the communicator off and put it away, warming his body up a smidge to try and convince the avian to sleep as well. Despite the worry flooding both of their hearts, they were able to get some sleep.

At least, until a sudden voice caught the fireborn’s attention and jolted him awake. It.. it sounded like him. Careful not to wake the other as much as he accidentally had, he leaned an ear against the wall they leaned against, trying to hear more. “Haven’t seen you around before.” “No, uh.. I’m new around here.” Karl responded, sounding slightly nervous but more so bored. “What’s your name?” “Karl. Yours?” “I’m Nathanial, but you can call me Nate.” Nate? “So, why don’t you tell me a little bit about this place? I don’t know very much, I just arrived.” “Yeah, I can.” And then they were on the move. “This is Obsidimore, it’s less of a town and more of a resistance camp. See, we had to break free from the kingdom that held control over us, and now we’re just gathering supplies and people to help.” Sapnap tried to stay awake, he really did, but the steady sway of his surroundings along with the voice going on about the resistance lulled him right back to sleep.

The next time he awoke, it was thanks to Quackity. The avian shuffled out of his grasp to try and stretch, causing him to fall to the side and jolt awake. He about yelled at the other before remembering their predicament and slamming his mouth shut, glowering at the blackette despite knowing he wouldn’t be seen. A moment passed, and then a message came through the communicator, Sapnap pulling it out and reading it before holding it out to the other to read so they didn’t move more than they had.

I’m hoping it doesn’t take much longer guys, I’m sorry about this.

“Got nothing to be sorry for, Karl.” Quackity responded, voice only slightly hushed so he knew the other heard him. With nothing more to do, the two went back to sleep.

~ ~ ~

Karl legitimately couldn’t tell if this was meant to be set in the past or the future. They were mostly steampunk themed, in ways of machinery and voices and clothing, but they also had modern touches that had his head spinning. At least, the part that wasn’t completely focused on his fiancés. They’d been doing good so far, moving only minimally and not talking loudly like they usually did when he’d store them. If there was ever a time he was thankful for telling them about the time traveling, it was definitely this entire situation.

“Karl? Are you coming?” “Oh! Yea, I am.” He caught up to Nate, who offered a wry grin. “Penny for your thoughts?” “I'm just thinking of things that could help our cause. The sooner we can take down that monarch, the better, right?” “Absolutely. And what I'm thinking of is this: we have the arms to do it. I say we storm the castle tonight.” “Tonight?” Karl blinked, trying to hide the eagerness he felt. Maybe they could get home pretty quickly. “Yeah, tonight. We get the others to handle the guards and you and me sneak in to get the king himself. I think we can do it.” “Yeah, that sounds good. I’m pretty sure we have the supplies we need, so we can go ahead and get ready.”

Get ready they did, Nate handing a short sword to the brunette and latched an ax to his hip. He grabbed a bag, putting bandages and other healing items within it. The entire time, he carefully hid his expression, mind lingering on the idea of getting home fast so he could finally let his fiancés out and give them a proper apology. Despite the eagerness in both of their movements, Nate still made them wait until nightfall to even begin towards the castle, so Karl simply found a secluded part of the camp to rest in and think over everything for a bit. Subconsciously, his hand rested over his stomach as he began to think about how to word this tale when he returned. He wasn’t quite sure what to call it, only the description, really. He came to a small camp called Obsidimore, a small refuge to separate from a tyrant ruler. Huh, kinda resembles Pogtopia. He shook the thought off with a snort. Of course it does, most tales are cautionary to prevent history repeating. The only thing left to think about was how this tale was going to end. He lingered on the possibilities well into the evening, until Nate came to get him and the small group they had set out for the castle. Once more, he tried to hide his eagerness.

We’ll be home soon.

~~~~

The castle was huge, stone towers spearing into the night sky, the full moon being the only illumination the building had. All the lights were out; All the royals were asleep. It was time.

Nate brought Karl over to the balcony under the king’s bedroom, and he didn’t even think twice before climbing up the ladders they brought. Though, it was kinda weird that Nate would know exactly where the King’s room was…

That was his mistake, so eager to get through that he wasn’t paying attention to the tale itself.

When they slipped into the glass door, the monarch lay peacefully in bed, eyes closed. To the immediate right of the bed stood an armor stand, a long-handled ax with a wickedly sharp blade resting in the hand on the wooden mannequin. Karl tried to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but he just couldn’t seem to do it. By the time they did, Nate was already at the bed. “Cmon,” he whispered. “You should do it.” That made sense, Karl supposed. His blade would be quicker than the ax blade. He crept over, trying to keep quiet, not even thinking of the consequences of taking the life before him. He just wanted to go home, relax and pray that his fiancés were okay-

A hand gripped his wrist with an iron grip, startling him so bad his sword dropped to the bed with a soft thud. The king’s venomous eyes glared daggers into Karl’s icy blue ones. “How dare you.” The king spat. Throwing the brunette’s hand away from him, he quickly got out of bed on the other side, yanking the axe off of the suit of armor beside him. He stalked over towards the two. “You leave my kingdom, come back in the dead of night to try and assassinate me, and think you’d get away?” A step forward, but when he’d tried to step back he felt a shove pushing him closer. Nate? “I told you I’d catch them, father.” Nate’s voice rang out behind him, and he gasped. A sickening grin split the monarch’s face in two. “Let’s see how well you get away from this!” He lunged forward, at the same time Karl got shoved harsher than before, right into the King’s path. The last thing that he saw was the ax blade coming at his face, feeling a sharp sting of pain before everything went black.

Then white, as he woke up on the hard ground of the In Bewteen’s castle floor. At first, his eyes blinked harshly to try to get used to the light, every bit of his head screaming in pain. Despite that, the second his bearings were gotten he bolted upright, hands pressing into his abdomen harder than he meant to. “Sap? Q?” An answer didn’t immediately come, and his veins turned to ice. “Sapnap!? Quackity!? Answer please!” Why weren’t they answering?

Before panic could completely grip him, there was a shift, then a flurry of movement as either one or both began to sit up. “Karl!?” “Sapnap, are you okay!? Is Quackity okay!?” “We’re fine, we’re fine. Are you?” The avian pressed against a wall, eyes partly closed due to the sheer brightness of the organ they were in. Normally he’d chalk it up to the other being fearful, and while the startled icy blue he recognized was there, the entire organ itself was a silvery white color. Pulsing in and out of that white were lavenders, light blues and periwinkles, those of which neither fiancé could recognize.

“I’m okay.” No he’s not. He just died, respawned in the In Between despite being told he’d get to choose. Perhaps XD had a feeling he needed to leave quickly, rather than stick around to try and reanimate some memories. The overseer himself was nowhere to be seen, and shakily the brunette got to his feet. “We’re not home yet, but we’re in a place where you two shouldn’t get affected by being found out. Are you sure you two are okay?” “Yea, maybe a little stiff from being curled up so long but we’re fine.” “Are you sure you’re okay?” Sapnap piped up, subconsciously heating his temperature up in an attempt to soothe the larger of them. “You still seem really shaken up, and I doubt it’s because of me and Q taking too long to answer.” “It’s…” he sighed. “It’s not fine, I.. wound up dying, and I got scared that you two had as well.” “Oh, Karl…” “I’ll be alright, I have been before. I just gotta reach the portal and then we can finally relax.” “Who did it?” The fireborn blurted out, mentally face palming. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer-“ “It was the king. Nate pushed me into him right as he swung his weapon, I had no way to dodge.” Nate, the one that sounded like me?

“I’m so sorry.” “It’s not your fault, Sap.” “Still.” “Hey, I’m happy that you two weren’t involved, okay?” It was like he could read his thoughts. “I know, but it doesn’t change the fact that-“ “That what? Your descendants or ancestors aren’t as kind as you guys are? I’ve accepted that already. And for the record, I’m glad I live in this time with you two.” Normally, his stomach would be glowing pink at that point, but it remained the colors it had been since they’d woken up.

“Is.. something wrong with your stomach, Karl?” “Huh?” “It's.. white. It hasn’t changed colors at all.” Quackity added. “Oh. Oh. Okay, I could probably give an answer for that. So the place I’m in now, the In Between, it’s like a giant castle made entirely of white building material, like quartz and stuff. Anytime I’m here my hoodie goes completely white, so maybe that’s why? It wouldn’t surprise me, anyway.” “What’s the significance of the In Between, if I’m allowed to ask?” “Well, it’s where I usually wind up when the ‘tale’ ends, or if I die while in a different time. A while back, instead of being brought here I got taken to a god’s realm instead. He gave me the ability to choose where I go when I leave the ‘tale’, so there’s another realm too. This one helps me leave faster than the other does, and this one is helping me get control over the time traveling too.” “Did you choose to come here this time too?” “I woke up here. I guess XD just chose for me this time.” Sapnap froze. “What did you just say?” “X- oh. Shoot, I forgot about that, I’m sorry Sapnap.” “What did he do to you? That bastard’s good as dead if he laid a hand-“ “He hasn’t hurt me! He.. he’s been helping me with this. Though, I guess he kinda has to since he’s the one who made me a time traveler. He said his last one completely lost his memory and couldn’t be relied on anymore.” “So he uses you like a damn puppet.” “I guess? But he’s been helping me more than hurting me.” “And he’d better keep it that way.”

Karl idly wondered if the god could sense the fireborn’s presence, and that’s why the overseer hadn’t come to stop him. Without anything holding him back, he quickly stepped through the portal that he knew led home.

The second his feet were on solid, recognizable ground, he shifted out of his human form, thankful to finally stretch out again and laughing softly as he felt the other two do the same. “Oh fucking finally! Wonder what’s gonna ruin it this time.” Quackity snarked, stretching his wings out. Wilbur was absolutely going to kill him about the state of them, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. The pinks and golds had finally flooded the colors, making both fiancés relax instantly. Though, an icy blue streak flashed through the organ, catching their attention and leading Sapnap to investigate again. “You’ve all been gone for days! Dream’s literally about to call a manhunt for you three.” “I’m sorry, George. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.” “What do you mean- wait, don’t tell me you-“ at the nod, the brunette’s face dropped. “Karl.” It was spoken softly. “They were safe the whole time. I made sure of that.” “Did you make sure you were, though?” At the lack of answer, he sighed, taking a noodly arm in his hand. “Come on, I bet you’re ready for some sleep.”

“It’s George.” The fireborn relayed to Quackity. “Yea, no shit-“ “We’ve been gone for days, he said.” “Oh, fuck. I’m not even hungry, is he sure that’s accurate?” “He’s telling the truth.” Karl mumbled. “What?” “Sorry, I was- um..” he finally understood Sapnap’s embarrassment about being caught storing people. George took one look at his reaction and recognition flashed behind his goggles, giving a soft hum in acknowledgement before gently nudging the other towards the bed. “Do you need anything from me before I go? I’ll tell Dream you’re all okay.” “I think we’re alright. Thank you, George.”

He got a half-smile in return as the other took his leave, settling under the covers and curling up slightly, arms wrapped around his middle once more. “Do you two want out?” “You sleep first. We’ve been here this long, a few more hours won’t hurt us.” Quackity spoke first, followed by Sapnap’s agreement. “Yeah. I dunno how long you’ve been awake for, but I’m not leaving until you get some sleep.” “Nimrod.” He scoffed affectionately. “Seriously, sleep. We’ll be fine, and we can all make breakfast together tomorrow.” “You sure that’s a good idea?” “Doesn’t matter.” “Alright, I’ll try to sleep. Good night, guys, I love you both.” “Love you, Karl. Good night.”

“Told you.” Quackity whispered, nudging the other with an elbow as he settled back down. “Told me what?” “We’d want to do nothing but sleep. We’re gonna be worse than George at this point.” “Nobody can be as bad as George when it comes to sleeping.” Sapnap mused, resting his head on the other’s shoulder. He got a soft hum in return, and the duo settled down for one more nap.

When they woke up, it was to being released and gently cleaned up by their third, who looked very sheepish about the entire situation. With a groan, Quackity flopped back on the palm. “No, let me go back to sleep.” “We need breakfast, Q.” Karl giggled. “Noooooo…” he opened his eyes to look up at him. “They’re going to make me go back to work.” “Call in.” Sapnap suggested, stretching his arms above his head. “Can’t. They’re already gonna be mad about the past few days.” “Let them.”

The two were set on the floor, Karl halfway shifted to his human form. Pulling a splash potion of growing from his inventory, he ensured the two had their ears covered before dropping it in front of the two. As the two grew to their normal sizes, the brunette finished shifting and stood up to meet them at (almost) eye level. His eyes glittered pink and gold as Quackity got his bearings first, launching himself at the taller. “You know Wilbur’s gonna fucking kill me about the state of my wings.” He grumbled into the multicolored hoodie. “All the more reason to call in today. I can preen them for you.” Gently carding his fingers through the avian’s feathers, he smiled when the other relaxed fully against him. Sapnap took the opportunity to ruffle the blackette’s hair, and sprinted for the stairs when the Mexican squawked and pulled away with a hot glare, giving chase. Rolling his eyes, the time traveler followed his fiancés down the stairs, smiling at their antics.

He wouldn’t lie, it had been the worst experience he thinks he’d endured while traveling before, if only because of how worried he was. But at least in the end his fiancés understood, and weren’t even mad at him about it happening. The time traveling thing sucked, it was always going to. But, maybe with a support system like he’s got it can’t be too bad.

#shrunken manhunt #soft vore #safe vore #mcyt vore #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #injury tw #temporary character death #yea I made a whole new tales episode #if I ever see a single piece of this used in an actual tales episode I’m actually gonna panic

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jadekitty777 · 1 year

Text

The Emotionalist: Chapter 3

I’ma be honest, I just found out that copying and pasting to tumblr is not saving my bold and italics. I’m too lazy to fix it, so uh, I recommend reading these chapters on A03 lol Particularly this one which is text heavy.

Prompt for Day 4: Sick

Rating: T

Word Count: 5K

Summary: Clover Ebi was a huntsman who, like most Atlesian soldiers, hid most of his emotions behind a mask of calm professionalism. That is, unless, one knew where to look. And Qrow looked a lot.

Or, 5 times Qrow learned to read Clover’s mood not from his face, but from his ears. [An adjacent story to Hunting Season Hunting Season; events from Qrow’s POV]

Ao3 Link: Burning like the Sun

Did you get the day off too?

Qrow leaned against the wall beside the Aceops office, left leg propped on the wall behind him and beating a staccato rhythm while he tapped a message back to his eldest niece. Yeah. Ol’ Jimmy has a heart after all. Got plans?

FNKI invited us out to a club. She replied. Rubes and Weiss aren’t interested but Blake and I are going.

He arched an eyebrow, snorting. Try not to blow this one up firecracker. 🔥🔥🔥🔥

IT WAS ONE TIME!

He could practically imagine the way Yang was fuming.

Another ping only moments later, Anyways, what are you gonna do?

Things. He thumbed out, eyes drifting down the hall. Still empty.

He didn’t look away until another ping chimed for his attention.

…Responsible things?

He started to type out one of his typical answers, something that fit the blasé and uncaring attitude he often pulled with his niece. He had a dozen he used on any occasion, but some of his favorites were ‘Responsible people don’t have fun’ or ‘Ain’t my style’.

Then he paused and wondered at the ellipses his brash and impulsive niece never used in her texting and wondered if this question was more serious than he was used to.

He didn’t have to think hard to figure out why it was there.

Swallowing guilt, he told her a half-truth instead of an uncaring dismissal. If you must know, I have a date.

That certainly started some sort of implosion, as he saw his niece start and stop typing for several moments.

Then, nothing except a big long pause.

Qrow realized he should be worried when a reply finally came in a burst of yellow text drawing itself along his screen:

Congratulations Old Man!

His shoulders shook to contain his laughter. I think my eyeballs just exploded. Then, with a huff, added, And don’t call me old.

You’ll survive. She quipped right back. After firing off a few annoying emojis his way, she finally said, Figured something was going on between you and Mr. Prince of the Forest.

Any amusement he had left died in his throat.

Blood burning, he typed back aggressively, Don’t call him that Yang. Ever. That shit’s not okay.

Why are you suddenly mad at me??? Even through text, he could hear her indignation.

He started to type rapidly, not even double-thinking his harshness - Gods, she liked Blake for maiden’s sake! - but before he could even finish, her next reply stopped him cold.

That's what you called him!

No I didn’t, He defended back immediately. Sure he didn’t used to be the most sensitive about Faunus discrimination. There were definitely things he’d said or did in his youth that he wasn’t proud of, with his jeering tribemates egging him on. And because he was an idiot so desperate for approval, he hurt a lot of people who never deserved it - but that was a long time ago, and he’d grown up a lot since he’d left his old life behind and better people opened his eyes.

But, his niece was swiftly proving that false, pings coming back quick and short,

Um yeah. You did.

Like two days after the whole arrest bs

During breakfast

I mean you were kinda rough but

Yeah

As the words drilled into his skull, they reached into his brain, pulling out a foggy memory.

He hadn’t been… great when he first stopped drinking. Better than most, aura was a blessing sometimes, but he knew detoxing threw him for a loop. It was why he often preferred not to.

But with James not willing to put them onto the field until they at least settled in and the kids got their weapons fixed up - not even him - it had left Qrow with little to do but ride the waves of sicknesses and nausea.

Still, he had made an effort to join the kids for breakfast, even if he couldn’t stomach it. It was important they knew - well, that Yang and Ruby knew - that he was still trying.

Those first few days were always the worst though, leaving him sweaty and shaky and just all around in a piss-poor mood. That day in particular, he recalled having just come off from one of the worst sleeps of his life. First at the table but slumped over it and clutching his cup of undrinkable coffee like a lifeline.

Yet Ruby joined him as if it was just another Tuesday.

And the small exchange he’d completely forgotten about surfaced like an oil spill on the ocean, black and poisonous:

“Hey, hey Uncle Qrow!” Ruby said enthusiastically, “Penny told us that when we get our weapons back, the Aceops want to take us all out on a mission together. Doesn’t that sound great?”

He scoffed, saying loud enough he knew every single person heard every single last one of his damn words, “Oh great, can’t wait for a prance through the frozen wastelands with Mr. Prince of the Forest and all his little woodland friends.”

He couldn’t recall exactly how anyone responded beyond a few uncomfortable laughs before the subject was quickly changed.

He especially didn’t know what Blake’s had been - he had never looked up.

“Fuck.” He hissed to himself, smacking his head back on the wall.

He… owed her an apology.

But first he had to fix something else.

He forced his eyes back onto his scroll, his turn to rapidfire back replies.

Well I shouldn’t have.

If I ever say anything like that again, about ANY Faunus, punch me in the face.

As hard as you can.

I want to go through the WALL.

Got it?

He watched the little drawing quill dance as his niece started to reply but never let her get there as he asked, Why are you repeating me anyways?

The quill didn’t come back.

His scroll went dark, then black.

“Qrow?”

He jumped, almost dropping the device. Looked up and around, to see Clover standing just a few paces away, eyebrow raised. His arms were relaxed at his sides, his own scroll held limp in his hand. But through the transparent display, he could see the polls newscast rolling, sound probably feeding directly into Clover’s communicator.

The sight of his ears, still in the near-permanent droop they’d fallen into since the start of the week, reminded Qrow why he was here.

“H-Hey!” He straightened up, corner of his lip pulling up in a half-smile. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Clover’s eyebrow only hiked higher, looking past him briefly. “At my own office?”

“Uh.” He articulated gracefully. “Yeah well. Figured you’d have the night off like everyone else.”

“I do.” Was the even reply, playfulness starting to glimmer in Clover’s eye. “Which only further doesn’t explain why you’re here though.”

Damn.

Qrow cleared his throat, trying to save himself by appealing to the clever idiot, “Lucky guess?”

Clover’s ears twitched, raising just a smidge, mimicking the slow smile gracing his handsome face. “Is that so?”

“Of course.” He jutted out a hip, placing a hand on it. “Come on, don’t act like you’re not happy to see me Clubs.”

The slow roll of the other’s eyes on him was heated and absolutely deliberate. “I’m always happy to see you.” The husky promise sent a thrill through him.

Yet, as fast as the flame was lit, it suddenly burnt out as something Qrow didn’t hear made Clover look down at his scroll, holding it tight enough he was surprised it didn’t break.

His ears had fallen once more.

“Anyways, I was just here to send off a few files Winter requested before I headed to the polls.” Clover’s tone was that clipped professionalism he usually reserved for the field as he walked past, opening up the door. “Did you need something?”

The change of pace took out some of his bluster, but he carried on as he trailed in after the other. “Well, I haven’t had a chance to see the sights lately. Was thinking you could give me a grand tour. Saaaay over dinner? Your choice, my treat?”

The other paused, hand hovering over the power button to his computer as he stared back at Qrow. “Not sure I’ve heard of a lot of tours that happen stationary in a restaurant.” The playfulness was back.

“Clover.” Qrow santured over, hopping onto the corner of his desk. “Come on already. We can even go to your favorite.”

This time he actually chuckled, finally booting up his computer. “I’m afraid my favorite place isn’t really your scene.” Clover glanced at him meaningfully. “Or your crowd.”

He’d guessed as much.

It said a lot about the soldier and the way he’d been treated over the years that he so quickly was willing to shelter Qrow from experiencing his own culture. He didn’t think it had to do with a lack of pride, but rather a lack of agency in his own position. A Faunus holding such a high rank in the military, being James’ literal right hand, should be something to simply praise for the accomplishment itself. A sign of times truly changing.

But it was obvious from people like Robyn or Jacques, who would so easily use that stance against him, that all Clover could do instead was constantly mock an image of perfection and pureness to the world so that they couldn’t tear him and everything he stood for down.

He was so used to doing that, that it seemed to become almost second nature to hide anything that might come off as ‘troublesome’.

Unfortunately for him, Qrow wasn't really into all that rigamarole. He especially wasn’t when he wanted this to work so badly - the conversation they’d had two weeks ago about his insecurities over his semblance had only solidified that in his mind. What started out as just a bit of flirting and mutual attraction had turned into so much more. Clover was special and inspiring in a way he’d never met before, and he very much wanted to keep him in his life.

“All I’m hearing is a bunch of excuses.” Qrow went in for the kill, leaning over the desk and dragging a hand through his own hair, disheveling it purposely as he put on his best smirk. “Come on Clover, take me out for a night on the town.”

Hook, line and sinker. Clover’s breath caught, eyes darting between his eyes and his lips, giving in with a simple, “I suppose dinner does sound nice. How ‘bout you meet me at the helipad docks at 6?”

Yes! Qrow did a mental victory dance, slipping off the desk. “You got it Clubs. I’ve got a few things to take care of, but I’ll see you then~”

“Yeah. I’ll be there.” Clover’s bright smile and raised ears was the last thing Qrow saw before the door closed.

He started down the hall, already looking up locations for a good clothing and cologne store when his phone pinged.

A message from Yang.

He paused, the conversation from before Clover’s arrival coming back in a rush.

Reluctantly, he tapped over to read it.

I dunno. I guess ‘cause you said it, I thought it was okay.

A hard knot of shame bunched in his stomach as the implications of that fully hit him.

“Shit.”

Six o’ clock on the dot, Clover walked into the station.

Qrow took a mournful moment to admire him. Despite neither of them saying a word, it seemed they’d come to the universal agreement that this was a date.

Clover had dressed down for the occasion, and though he already missed the sleeveless vest, Clover filled out the dark green turtleneck rather prettily. His pants were black and framed shapely thighs. Kingfisher was still hitched to his hip and the leather belt it was attached to had a buckle with a shamrock printed on.

And, of course, completely for Qrow’s benefit, he wore a single chain drop earring in the tip of his right ear, a set of silver feathers that hung at the bottom tinging together anytime he moved.

As he drew close, Qrow could smell the cologne he wore.

“Hey.” Clover breathed, eyes rolling over him shamelessly. “You look great.”

He glanced down, almost forgetting himself. He’d kept it simple, going for a pair of charcoal gray pants and matching it with a black dress shirt that had a red and white floral design on the inside of his collar and the rolls of the sleeves. He’d dug out his old necklace, the little cross settled over his heart.

But where he’d really gone all out was his nails - colored with a polish so dark blue it was almost black, with little silver confetti stars pressed over top with a clear coat. They caught the light nicely, little constellations twinkling along his hands.

The question on why he bothered with the effort still escaped him when he was about to ruin everything.

“Not as good as you, Clubs.” He tried anyways, even though his heart wasn’t in it.

Clover picked up on it immediately, one ear raising up like an exclamation as he asked, “You alright? If you’re having second thoughts-”

“No.” He cut him off quickly, not wanting Clover to think for a second it was about that. “But you might in a minute. I just… need to come clean about something.”

“Okay?”

Clover only seemed further confused as Qrow handed over his scroll. “Read it. Next page too.” He mumbled.

They were just screenshots of the tail end of his conversation with Yang, starting from the damning slur to her last words to him.

Clover was quiet as he read it, eyebrows twisting down somewhat as he swiped to the next picture. Swiped back and read it again. Neither his face nor his ears were giving anything away, as if he was completely frozen.

Qrow felt his anxiety fester the longer he just stood there, staring at it. Eventually it grew to be too much, and he blurted out, “I’m really sorry.”

Clover looked up at him.

On instinct, he looked away, then forced his eyes back. Look at him damnit!

“I-I know that doesn’t make up for it. But you had the right to know.” He explained hastily and then he waited for whatever punishment was coming.

He mostly expected a punch to the face.

What he wasn’t expecting was for Clover to just blink and hand back his scroll with a calm, “That’s it?”

Excuse him - WHAT?!

His shock must have been evident, because the other man continued, “Qrow you’re not the first person to relegate me to deer-focused idioms.”

“Doesn’t mean I shoulda fucking said it.”

A sigh. “No, you shouldn’t have. But, and take this as nicely as you can - I’m not surprised that you’re kind of a total asshole to people you first meet.”

Qrow winced, but didn’t deny it. He could sweet talk like the best of them when he needed to, but on a general day-to-day? Especially with Atlas folk? Yeah, he wasn’t exactly Mr. Nice Guy.

Still…

“Clover, don’t make excuses for me.”

“I’m not.” He insisted, placing a hand on Qrow’s shoulder. “Look, listen to me, okay? I understand that you’re human and that you probably grew up with a lot of racists throughout your life. I’m not about to hold you up on a pedestal above everyone else. This stuff is complicated and more terrifyingly systematic than even I like to think about most days.” His fingers squeezed, just slightly. “But that’s not the important thing. You want to know what is?”

Qrow thought it over, shrugging a bit. “That I... was honest?”

“No. Well yes, but no. It’s that you understand it’s wrong and are willing to change it. Most people don’t give me that kind of respect.” He insisted, pulling back to rest his hand on his hip. “You know what happened when I told my last boyfriend I didn’t like him calling me ‘Fawny’? He got mad at me, asked why I was being ‘so uptight’ about it. And when I explained, he claimed I was just being dramatic.” Clover rolled his eyes, spitting out, “Fucking asshole.”

Even though it sounded truly awful, it was odd that he actually felt lighter at hearing that - but Clover tended to have that effect on him. Somehow, he always saw the best in him.

Well. Mostly.

“Didn’t you just call me an asshole, like, two sentences ago?” Qrow teased.

He waved him away. “Yeah but you’re like a general asshole, not a calculated one.”

“And that’s better?”

“Will you let me compliment you already?”

“That was a compliment?!” He mock-cried.

To his surprise, Clover burst out laughing.

It was a really nice sound, and he couldn’t help but join in.

As it petered out, the two of them sharing smiles, Qrow admitted cautiously, “I’m really surprised you’re not mad at me.”

“Trust me Qrow. When I’m angry, you’ll know.” That promise sounded oddly terrifying. Before he could dwell too much on it, Clover pointed to his scroll. “But I think you’re not giving yourself enough credit - again. You know you never needed to tell me this, right? That you could have hid it forever, and I probably never would have found out.” He met his gaze, sincere and kind as he said, “The fact you did despite that says a lot more about the good in your character than I think you realize.”

Qrow’s eyes widened, a flush of warmth rushing through him. He might have been swooning. He was definitely blushing. “Clover…”

The soldier just seemed pleased with himself. Then a chime from the itinerary display went off, and his ear perked up before his eyes followed it. “Our flight’s ready.” He jabbed a thumb towards the loading station, giving him a wink. “What say we get outta here?”

Utterly enchanted, there really was only one answer to that. “Lead the way Clubs.”

The Dog Pan was a hole in the wall kind of place, right in the center of Mantle’s lower end district. It wasn’t quite the slums, but it was clear the side of town had seen better, with broken out windows and graffiti on most walls.

Yet, the moment they walked in, he could immediately feel the closeness and community that seemed to radiate from the very core. The windows had top curtains with little leaping dogs weaved out of yarn and privacy blinds made of bed sheets with colorful designs. They matched well with the walls where, in place of traditional pictures, were long, flowing, multi-colored tapestries with beaded ends. One of them depicted the God of Animals, another the Shallow Sea and the island of Unitas it banked. It all looked hand-woven.

The place was also packed to the brim, some of the chairs shoved against tables not matching as if they had been brought in. There was music playing but he could barely hear it over conversation, which seemed unusually loud; yet despite any eared Faunus obviously pinning their ears down, there was still a kind of comradery in the laughter and noise.

“Wow. I figured it’d be nuts but not this crazy!” Clover's own ears had dropped but he was grinning. He glanced at him. “You still sure you’re good?”

Qrow snorted. He used to frequent rave bars at an alarming rate. This was nothing. “You’re gonna have to try harder if you want to scare me off Clubs!”

“Clover!” The shout had them both looking forward, a plump and jolly looking woman weaving her way around the tables towards them. She had a skin tone that reminded him of Marrow and black dog ears that flopped over on the top of her head. As she reached them, she was quick to pull Clover into a hug. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight! You haven’t been around in ages.”

“Good to see you Maxi.” He replied, hugging her back.

She stepped back, zeroing in on Qrow, curious and welcoming. “And who is this handsome one?”

“This is Qrow, my new field partner.” Clover chuckled, patting his shoulder.

Taking his cue, he held out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

She shook it. “You as well darling. So, just you two then? I can’t get you a table, but I do have some room at the end of the bar.”

Clover shot him a questioning look.

He knew she meant a food bar, but it still settled like an itch on his skin. Shaking it off, he assured, “Works for me.”

“Lovely! Follow me.”

They picked their way carefully through the restaurant to get towards the back, settling into circular seats that creaked and had tears in the leather. The counter was worn and he could see words and symbols carved into the softwood. Maxi took their drink orders and, with her so close to the kitchen, was back within moments with a soda and a pot.

“Gotta say,” She said to them as she poured Qrow’s coffee. “I’m disappointed you didn’t bring my son with you.”

Wait…

“‘Fraid we couldn’t. He’s working security tonight.” Clover explained.

Maxi sighed. “Remind that boy of mine it wouldn’t kill him to see his mother now and again, would you?”

He gave her a two-fingered salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You just call when you're ready, dears.” She said before departing to handle some of the other tables.

Qrow leant towards Clover. “So she’s…?”

“Yeah. Marrow’s mom. This is actually how I met him. Saw him stop a whole tray from falling out of his sister’s hands when she tripped.” Clover told him. “I asked him why he wasn’t in the academy, and he told me he was. He just spent all his free time here, bussing tables and cleaning dishes. I knew ever since then that if I ever got a spot on the team, I wanted him on it.”

How exactly a spot ‘opened up’ was left unsaid.

Qrow could probably guess anyways.

“He was a good choice. Kid’s got talent, just needs more steadiness.” He said instead. “So, you’re the only one with the night off?” He knew Elm, Harriet and Vine were all working security for Jacques’ campaign. They’d been specially requested, for obvious reasons. Likewise, Robyn had asked for whoever was left.

“Perks of being Captain.” Clover joked. “And, James wanted Winter and I on standby.”

“For what?”

“For whatever happens once the polls close. Riots are uh, likely.” His eyes flicked to a TV set in the corner, and though it was inaudible, the picture of Jacques and Robyn on screen, the gap between their percentage ratings narrowing every minute, told them all they needed to know. “Among other things.”

Qrow kinda wanted to shoot it. “Y’know, I was trying to get you away from all that tonight.”

“Oh Qrow, I was always going to look. But,” He slid his hand across the table, the sides of their hands brushing. “At least I’ve got some good company to get me through it.”

Qrow hooked their pinkies together, a silent support.

“Come on, let’s order.”

Qrow had never seen a menu with so many post-it notes. The effect of the embargo was clear, as many foods had become too expensive or outright impossible to obtain - but anything with a cheaply grown vegetable, like corn or rice, or an easily obtained meat, like chicken which were bred plentifully or fish which was naturally fished and farmed out of the tundra, were still in supply.

In the end, he took Clover’s suggestion to try the smothered chicken legs.

Baked in gravy and coming with a side of cornbread and mashed potatoes, it was all sinfully good and filling.

He also managed to coax Clover to let him have a bite of his - the fried pike burst with flavor, likely attributed to its freshness. It came with a side of fries. Qrow stole a few of those too, mostly being cheeky about it.

Yet, as dinner carried on, the mood of the restaurant shifted. Conversations became hushed and subdued, a worry rippling through the people. No, a fear. If he strained to listen, he could catch snippets of conversation, whispers of what would happen to families stuck in the slums, of their children in the schools, of their jobs, their very way of living. Even Maxi seemed to hold her tray heavier with every pass, her smiles more strained. More people came in. Few left. It got so crowded, Qrow only had to lean back slightly to touch another person.

Try as he might to keep him distracted, Clover kept glancing at the TV. His ears were low enough, the feathers of his earring were resting against his shoulder.

As the last of the fries disappeared between them, Qrow asked softly, “You want to stay here?”

“‘Til it’s over.”

He nodded, and as their plates were gathered, asked for a refill. Sipped black coffee in one hand while the other slipped over damaged wood to touch Clover’s again.

After a moment, Clover reached back, nudging under Qrow’s fingers so they slipped over top of his own.

The minutes ticked on.

The percentages between Schnee and Hill grew smaller and smaller.

47-53.

48-52.

49-51.

At the final second, it hit 50-50.

The whole restaurant had gone dead silent as the polls disappeared, reporter Oliver Sikes taking over the screen. “And there we have it! The polls have officially closed and the final tallies are coming through now. Phew, what a close race. It’ll be just a minute now folks.” He rambled on for a bit more, detailing out the last districts that were decided on and the few they were still waiting on the exact counts from. But like all things in Atlas, his prediction was precise.

As the sixty second ended, Sikes was announcing, “Oh and here we go, I’m being told the counting is done! And it looks like…”

The polls flashed back on screen.

57-43.

“Jacques has been announced the winner!”

The declaration was like pulling the pin off a grenade, a sudden, explosive roar starting up around them as the restaurant descended into chaos.

The hand in his had tightened into a vice.

“What the fuck!” Qrow exclaimed. There was no fucking way, with a race that close, that Jacques pulled that much ahead. That meant some of the votes had been falsified. He jerked his head around, spitting, “Clover, that’s - Clover?”

Clover didn’t so much as respond to him, his wide eyes still staring at the screen where Jacques had started his victory speech. His face was completely motionless and impassive.

It was his ears that told Qrow the real story, as they had flipped back horizontally, the entire lengths of them trembling with barely withheld rage.

Just as soon as he’d seen it, it was gone when a furious outcry from the back had them both looking over their shoulders in time to see a man with moose antlers toss his chair. It hurtled its way across the restaurant and slammed right into the TV, shattering it on impact.

Had it been up to him, Qrow would have given the guy a medal.

Clover didn’t seem quite as praising, as he slammed his hands on the counter before climbing up onto it, shouting across to the crowd. “EVERYONE CALM DOWN!” He bellowed. “This is a Faunus-friendly establishment - a piece of our own community! What are you doing wrecking it?!”

Some people heard it, others didn’t, still arguing and trying to trash the place.

“No-No, please don’t!” Qrow heard Maxi cry just as one of her tapestries was pulled off the wall. Another person threw a plate on the floor.

A window cracked.

Sensing things were about to get further dangerous, he hopped the counter while Clover continued to try and appeal to the growing mob. Just as Qrow had managed to usher the sobbing woman through the kitchen door where the rest of her family was, ordering, “Get out the back!” he heard someone’s scream pierce the air that had him whirling around in horror.

“Wait, aren’t you Clover Ebi!? You voted for Schnee! Traitor!”

“Traitor! Traitor!” The mob chanted.

It was like a wave as they surged towards Clover, grabbing at his legs and trying to pull him off the bar. He yelped, grabbing onto a light fixture. It yawned worryingly.

“HEY!” Heart hammering in his chest, Qrow lunged towards Clover, trying to pull him the other way, kicking some of other Faunus back. “Let him go!”

The light fixture snapped but Qrow had just enough leeway to yank him down on the other side of the bar.

They backed up against the wall as the mob all started to round it and climb over.

He curled a hand around Harbinger’s hilt. Was he really going to have to…?

In the corner of his eye, he saw Clover desperately flick the feathers of his earring.

A second later, an unmistakable siren pierced the air.

Grimm.

Everyone froze.

Then some started to panic, rushing out the doors. Others flung themselves under tables or into the corners.

Sharing a look, he and Clover moved, using the sudden space to leap onto the tables around the thinning crowd and make it to the exit.

They spilled into the street and started running. The first block was for safety.

At the second, Clover finally managed to lift his shaking hand to his earpiece, “Marrow, report.”

Qrow grabbed his shoulder, pulling them both to a stop. He could feel the tremors leaking from Clover’s skin.

“Right. Roger. We’re on our way.” Clover dropped his hand to Kingfisher, taking a deep, steadying breath as he unfurled it. “Robyn’s party was attacked. A dozen people are dead and the grimm are flocking to it.”

Qrow gave him one last check over, just to make sure he was really okay, before he unsheathed Harbinger. “Let’s go.”

#qrow branwen #clover ebi #fair game #fairgameweek2023 #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

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