#but my goodness. of all the foods to be lured away by by a mysterious creature you meet in the woods

[wiitzend]

we've been making fun of edmund for years for selling out his siblings to the white witch for turkish delight but neglect the fact that lucy went with mr. tumnus to his house alone after five minutes of meeting him because he offered her sardines.

[britcision]

I am back! And with the beginnings of some answers to the mysteries, though sadly not the full John Constantine lowdown! But I will make it up to you all with some Harley shenanigans!

There just wasn’t enough space to get them both in and of course Harley comes first, I stan a queen (Quinn)

We’re gonna take a much closer look in Brucie’s head this time too as he gets a bunch of new information and maybe some new trauma, so this chapter and the next will be a lil Bruce heavy

(Jason is thrilled, believe me)

First Chapter:

Previous Chapter:

———————

Yeah This Might As Well Happen

Jason really wished he could just focus on having a good time with his family. The food was, as always, exquisite, and Sam and Tucker were moaning happily along with the others.

It smelled great. It looked great. It tasted great, but something in the back of Jason’s head just wouldn’t switch off.

Not until Danny came back.

Even the thought that Danny might be in danger while he just ate dinner sat like a lead weight in his stomach.

The expanded aura… well. It kind of helped? Being practically choked by Danny’s presence, aware in every pore of his skin that Danny was there, was fine, wasn’t hurting, did help.

It just. Made it impossible to really think about anything else.

He was barely following the conversation, just reading the intricacies of Danny’s mood changes and losing track of sentences as people said them.

Finally, finally, Danny’s aura shifted again.

Done-got him-no big deal-coming back.

Jason almost sagged in his seat, shoulders unknotting marginally (they probably wouldn’t finish until he could see Danny and prove he was fine).

Sent impatient-relieved-happy-hurry back as well as he could, and nearly dropped his fork at the warm swell of affection he received in return.

Well.

Affection-amused-teasing.

Clearing his throat, Jason did his best to will away the heat along the back of his neck. Nope, he wasn’t gonna blush when Danny wasn’t even here to look at him while smothering him in those feelings.

And it was definitely just the pit curling up into a little buzzing ball of happiness in his chest. Definitely not actually Jason melting like snow under a blow torch.

Whatever.

Danny was fine, he’d be back soon and Alfred had saved them both plates. And sure, maybe something in Jason wouldn’t unclench until he could see Danny in person, but letting Alfred’s cooking go cold was a sin.

He dug into his still steaming plate, forcing his shoulders to relax a little. Tucker and Tim were still talking about tech, currently disparaging what the GIW thought were elite security measures.

Harley had lured Sam, Duke, and Cass into a discussion of her new place in Coney Island at the other end of the table, and yeah, Jason could get interested in that.

Someone might have already asked, but hey. He waited for a convenient pause and leaned in.

“Didn’t Croc move down there with you? He and Riddler attacked the gala last night,” he explained when Harley made a curious noise, head cocking to one side.

Her brow furrowed, so apparently the others hadn’t gotten this far yet. Not sure if he was glad or gonna tease them mercilessly later.

“He what? Yeah, he moved in, but he came back this way ta keep me company as I came up here. Someone’s tryin’ ta give me a hard time cuzza my criminal record, an’ they’re gettin’ intel from one of your local problems,” she added with a shrug, waving her hand.

Cuz yeah, that was also on the list; she’d been up with Ivy, neither of them noticeably causing trouble before apparently Ida Manson got them out of town.

Cass made a small noise of concern and Harley patted her hand, grinning.

“Oh, don’t you worry about me doll, it’s all under control. Thought it might be Pengy havin’ another go at my spot but he burst into tears when I walked in so it’s prob’ly not him,” she said with a very self satisfied smile.

Jason chuckled softly because… yeah, he could picture that. It tracked.

“Smart man,” Duke agreed with a snicker and Harley gave him a fist bump.

“Yeah, I’ll run ‘em down. But why was Waylon at the gala? He jus’ said he was gonna look inta some shit while I was gone,” Harley asked, looking around the table for an answer.

Jason shrugged.

“All their demands were for Harvey Dent. Apparently he was planning to make a run and they beat him to the punch,” he explained, in as much as he understood.

If no one else had a hand on Dent by tonight, he miiiight stretch one of his Red Hood patrols out of Crime Alley to go for a look see.

The man missed his party. The least Jason could do was pay a personal visit.

“Croc mentioned Jason,” Cass noted with a small frown, looking up at him with concern.

And, yeah, that was the other reason he was thinking of getting involved. He couldn’t imagine what the fuck he’d done as a civvie to annoy Dent.

Harley huffed, blowing blonde bangs off her face and lacing her fingers, pointing at Jason.

“Okay, so we gotta go talk to Waylon tomorrow and find out what’s goin’ on. He’s comin’ with me back to Coney when the time comes so he ain’t got time for Arkham,” she said firmly, and something settled in Jason’s gut.

Waylon had so badly wanted the Red Hood not to turn out like he had; another criminal permanently trapped in the system. Yeah, he’d like to return the favour.

Of course, not everyone in the room was up on all the secrets. Sam leaned forward, breaking her quiet streak that as far as Jason knew was her longest ever.

“Wait, you’re going to break that guy out of jail? He wanted to strap a bomb vest to Jason,” she said harshly, finally snapping Tim and Tucker out of their little happy world.

Jason raised both hands.

“He didn’t succeed.” Much as Danny had freaked out about it, Jason wasn’t gonna complain about things that hadn’t happened.

Too much like it actually happened every day, he’d never be done.

Oh. Maybe that was kinda why Danny had freaked out. That probably wasn’t good.

His personal revelation was dampened by Harley waving a hand easily.

“Nah nah nah, we’re not gonna break ‘im out tomorra. He’s gonna tell us what the fuck he was thinkin’, I’m gonna break Dent’s kneecaps, and Batsy’s gonna give a character statement an’ get ‘im released ta me for community service.”

And if any of that didn’t work, they could still just break Croc out the next day. Jason knew the unspoken corollary.

Tucker’s eyebrows raised and he said the very stupidest thing that Jason had ever heard from a genius, and he’d seen Tim on 72 hours of no sleep.

“You know Batman?” He asked incredulously.

Harley stared at him for a long moment. Then snickered.

“Yeah, we know each other from work,” she said dryly, waving her fork, “we go way back.”

The assorted bats snickered to themselves and Tucker sunk back in his chair a little, grinning sheepishly around the table.

“Yeah… sorry.”

Sam rolled her eyes, arms folded as she frowned down the table. She clearly had a bigger question, which was probably fair for anyone who didn’t know the combined Harley-and-bats history.

“And you think Batman will do you a favour? He’s not exactly known to listen to reason,” she pointed out half sarcastically. Not that anyone in the room would argue.

There was a reason Jason loved her.

Harley weighed her up for a moment, then grinned, leaning forward.

“Y’know, kid, I don’t think we were introduced. There’s somethin’ real familiar about you,” she mused, folding her arms on the table and leaning over them, plate slowly nudged aside.

Sam smirked and shrugged. They were meeting a lot of new people these past couple days, but if she’d been doing the gala circuit her whole life?

Yeah, this probably wasn’t the worst. Harley was better than Jason had ever met at a party.

“Sam Manson. Friend of Jason’s through Danny,” she added with a nod to the empty seat still between her and Jason.

Harley beamed, hiking forward onto the table a little more.

“Oh, you’d be Ida’s granddaughter then?” She asked brightly, clearly pleased to have been right. “Your granny’s a real doll, sent me and Ivy on a real sweet vacation this week.”

Sam chuckled softly and nodded, giving Harley a half apologetic half cocky smile.

“Yeah, that’d be my fault. I’m not allowed to come to Gotham if there’s a chance Poison Ivy is in town,” she explained, fingers on her left hand tapping against her right arm.

Both of Harley’s brows went up.

“Oh? Are they scared somethin’ might happen to ya?” She asked, tone already very firmly suggesting she knew the answer.

So did most of the rest of the table, though Duke hadn’t actually heard the explanation last night. Not like he needed to, having met Sam for more than five minutes.

Sam didn’t disappoint. She gave another elegant half shrug, her smile turning fully dark.

“Oh, more the opposite. They think I’ll run off and join her if I see her,” she said innocently. Across the table, Tucker snorted most of a laugh.

A moment later Harley joined him, tossing her head back and laughing.

“Yeah, that sounds like Ida’s girl,” she agreed, wiping a dainty tear from her eye, “she was a real spitfire in her younger days, the stories she told Ivy when they were protestin’ together were wild.”

Sam was practically glowing with pride, and Jason had to admit that he would kinda like to meet her grandmother. He’d met her parents, and… well, maybe awesome skipped a generation.

Harley suddenly stopped, head cocking as she noticed something, a sly smile creeping across her face.

“So if they think you’ll run away with Ivy… whadda they think’ll happen if ya run into me?” She asked with a delicately studied innocence, examining her nails.

“Only good things,” Cass offered, grinning past Jason at Sam. Sam grinned back, giving Harley a shrug and a similarly innocent smile.

“Y’know, they’ve just never mentioned it. Clearly there’s no concerns there,” she agreed, and Jason snickered, raising his glass in a toast.

“None here,” he noted and Sam laughed, clinking her glass against his. Dick raised a hand, fighting a laugh.

“One concern for the integrity of Bruce’s skull?” He offered innocently, and laughed when Jason threw a napkin at him.

“If Bruce’s skull was gonna break it’d have done it years ago,” Steph opined as the voice of experience. Jason raised his glass to her too, but she was a little far to clink.

She grabbed hers up and raised it back anyway, and Sam filled the gap, clinking hers to Jason’s and then to Steph’s to pass it on.

“It’s good for him ta get his eggs scrambled,” Harley agreed from the other end of the table, raising her glass too, “and I’m gonna guess you did some percussive maintenance too that I’ll ask about later.”

“Bruce might still have a concussion,” Duke offered, not completely certain where he sat with this kind of joking, but the kid was new.

You had to watch Bruce try and kill himself going out on patrol with more bones broken than whole a couple times before you gave in to his indestructibility.

Shit, maybe he should ask Danny if Bruce was liminal. For all the guy was technically a default human, Jason knew literal aliens with a better grasp on humanity.

And ghosts, now.

Harley gave him a nod anyway and patted his hand.

“I’ll aim low then sugar, don’t you fret. But to answer yer other question, Sam, Batman’s gonna get Waylon out for me cuz he doesn’t want ‘im in Arkham any more ‘n we do. Bats wants us all ta get better, and Waylon does best left alone,” she explained with a shrug.

“Until you leave him unsupervised and he teams up with Riddler?” Tim asked with a slight smile.

Jason shook his head, leaning forward on his arms too.

“He wouldn’t do it for no reason. He asked what I’d done to upset Two Face, but I can’t think of anything.” They didn’t even cross paths often.

Dent had taken Red Hood’s claim on Crime Alley as a given, learned quickly that Jason didn’t give a shit about playing nice, and minded his business.

“You sound like you know him pretty well,” Tucker said with a slight frown, and Jason shrugged.

Yeah, Tucker wasn’t in on the Robin thing yet. Luckily there was an easy answer.

“I grew up in Gotham. You guys keep coming back and you’ll get a feel for most of ‘em too.”

Tucker hesitated for a moment, probably thinking back to Amity and their own ghostly rogues. Then he nodded, settling back to poke at his mostly finished plate.

Tim still didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t know Waylon the way Jason did. They’d never had the chance to talk beyond the usual Robin-and-Rogue.

Jason could prove his point tomorrow. Maybe bring Danny along.

And like the thought summoned him, Jason’s phone buzzed to a text from Danny.

‘DannyP: who tf is Constantine??👀👀🤣’

**

Bruce sucked in a deep breath, eye closing, and forced himself to exhale.

He fucking hated magic.

So. Analysis.

From what he understood of Constantine’s general capabilities, him being difficult to find by malicious forces was not unexpected. That seemed credible.

Did Bruce count as a malicious force?

A stern self inventory, past the part that insisted he’d never wish harm on a teammate on principle, and… yes.

He would never have followed the impulse, would have stomped it down the moment he found the man, but he couldn’t deny the urge to lay hands was there.

He’d even been devising new layers of paperwork to insist the man fill out. With, yes, malice in his heart. Just a little bit of spite.

If that counted into making the man impossible to contact… well, he’d bear it in mind. And talk with Zatanna and Dr Fate and see it they could fine tune those wards a little more.

No matter how angry he was about Amity Park, he didn’t want anything actually harmful to happen to a colleague. Even this colleague. Although if he had to pick one…

No. That wasn’t a helpful train of thought.

Taking another steadying breath, this one slower and more evenly, he glanced down at the car. Danny wouldn’t hear anything while inside, but that wouldn’t stop him opening a door to ask what the hold up was.

Forcing Brucie’s casual tones on was harder than normal, but that was expected.

“I can’t really talk about that right now. Can you come by to visit tonight?” Bruce paused, checking his watch. Coming up on seven. “In an hour or so?”

*

The smile dropped off Constantine’s face as quickly as it had formed. Of fucking course the bat wanted everyone to run around to his fuckin’ schedule.

Raising hell for John all fuckin’ night and all fuckin’ day but when John actually got back to him it was all “oh now’s not a good time”.

His more spiteful side wanted to insist on right now, he was a busy man and he had shit to do that Batman wouldn’t even wanna fuckin’ think about.

Shit, John didn’t like thinking about it.

But it was only an hour, and he could use the damn zeta tubes, and it wasn’t like he’d been planning on fuckin’ sleeping. Why would he do that?

And if it unfucked his communicators, he could use that hour to ask the Superboys what the fuck they were playing at in Alaska.

And then he could sleep, Bat off his ass and conscience clean. Fuck it.

“Yeah, whatever. Wanna tell me what’s got your damn panties in a twist in case there’s shit I need to get ready?”

So of course Bat-tastic said the two worst words Constantine had heard in his life.

“Amity Park.”

Fuck.

**

Bruce didn’t enjoy the sharp little intake of breath, followed by no sass whatsoever. It wasn’t easy to make John Constantine speechless.

No, this was definitely just satisfaction that the man knew the gravity of what he’d done. That whatever reasons he’d had, he knew Bruce would be waiting for a damn good explanation.

That there might be one.

Bruce didn’t like even considering that an ally would have done something so serious just because he didn’t want to deal with it. Even Constantine.

When the man hadn’t spoken almost a minute later, Bruce took pity on him.

“I’ll see you in an hour.”

Constantine managed a weak agreement and he nodded, satisfied at least that the man would still be there. And if he wasn’t, Bruce could work out a way to reach him again.

Someone had obviously found him to tell him Bruce was looking for him. And apparently there were consequences for Constantine too if he tried to avoid him.

He hesitated for a moment before getting back into the car. He’d been planning to ask Danny gently about Amity Park, to try and work out what had happened.

Something light that might make him lower his guard. Then turn the subject to Jason. How precisely Danny was helping him. What he knew of the pits.

They wouldn’t have time for a full interrogation, not even in the tail end of rush hour traffic, but it would be a start.

But did he want to tip his hand now? Before Constantine gave him the truth about Amity Park, when all it would take was a matter of hours?

Danny likely knew that Brucie was a mask, but it might be useful to keep it on just a little longer.

Light subjects only then. From what Dick and Tim had reported, Danny was equally likely to just drop some huge revelation to see what Bruce would do.

Yes.

Perhaps he could bait that tendency by being innocuous.

Bruce slid back into the driver’s seat, giving Danny his best, emptiest smile.

“So sorry about that. Just a business contact I’ve been having trouble tracking down, so I didn’t want to let him slip away again.” Honesty, in case he could tell.

They would need to get a better idea of Danny’s power-set. If Duke couldn’t do it alone, perhaps Tim’s observation skills could help.

Danny barely glanced up from his phone, shooting Bruce a quick grin before returning his attention to the screen.

“Yeah? Didn’t know anything got done over the new year, I’d have thought everyone was too hung over.” It sounded like a joke, a cheerful prod.

Bruce swore internally anyway, because he was right. Clearly he knew more than an average student.

He didn’t let it show, chuckling along good naturedly.

“Oh I’d have much preferred getting this done with before the new year, but some people are a little hard to get hold of,” he explained jovially, starting the car and backing out.

Danny hummed an agreement, not looking up from his phone. A sharp glance (he could always say he was checking the boy was strapped in) did not show him the screen.

When had Danny strapped in? Bruce would swear he hadn’t when he’d sat, but it was there now.

Clearly his apparent absorption was a trick. Intended to remind Bruce of a typical young adult, make him lower his guard.

Danny stifled a laugh just as they were leaving the garage, and Bruce barely resisted another effort to look over. The screen would still be tilted away.

His opponent was a cunning one.

Or he was overreacting. It could be a real innocence, not a calculated one. A young man paying more attention to his phone?

He wouldn’t have thought it sinister if it were Tim, Dick, Duke, any of their friends.

No.

He couldn’t take that chance. Not with Jason. He couldn’t afford to relax his guard.

It was unfair to Danny, unfair to both of them.

He’d lost Jason once by not paying close enough attention, and Bruce would be the very first to admit that he’d never gotten his boy back.

Jason had returned in body, mind, and soul, just like he’d wished and prayed for for so long. But there was a distance now that Bruce had no idea how to bridge.

He’d thought he was on the right path last night, but a constant nagging in his gut told him he was wrong.

Every time he closed his eyes he saw Jason’s shocked, white face when he’d apologised. It was a blessing he’d had enough to keep him from his bed.

He’d been so sure it was the right move. The next step to closing the distance between them. Offering Jason the public apology, the acknowledgement that Bruce had failed him.

But that was why Bruce would face gods and walk backwards into Hell before he let anything else try and take his baby boy from him again.

“Y’know, you could just tell Jason you love him.”

Bruce nearly crashed the car.

Luckily they were at a red light, so his reflexive slamming hit the brake, not the gas, and the car barely lurched.

When he was sure his heart was still beating, he chanced a glance over at Danny.

The boy was half smirking down at his phone, clearly aware of the consternation he’d caused, and looked up when he felt Bruce’s eyes on him.

And shrugged, like it was nothing.

“Dude, you’re brooding so hard there’s basically a black cloud over your head.”

Add mind reading to the list of suspected powers.

Bruce felt his eyes narrowing before rigid control snapped back into place, keeping his expression Brucie-open.

“What do you mean?” He asked, in a tone he knew gave nothing away.

Danny snorted like he’d told a joke.

“Man, I’m just saying. Jason barely thinks you fuckin’ like him, it’d save you both a lot of trouble if you’d just sit him down and tell him how you feel.”

Bruce hesitated for a long moment, staring into deep blue eyes that suddenly seemed as deep and unreadable as the deepest ocean. As old as time.

Then he forced his eyes back to the road as the light turned and cars started moving again.

That. Couldn’t be true. It was an attempt at manipulation.

A predator expertly analysing what he thought was Bruce’s greatest weakness, striking to do as much damage as he could.

Of course Jason knew that Bruce loved him. He must have. He had to.

There was no way this stranger who by all accounts Jason had known for barely a week could know more about Jason’s life than his own father.

**

Danny hummed softly to himself, most of his attention on his phone as he texted back and forth with Jason.

‘DannyP: ur dad is giving me the biggest cop energy rn 😳🚔🚔’

Mostly ignoring just the solid waves of angst emanating from Bruce like miasma. Poor guy was only wrapping himself tighter in his own head for Danny’s interjection.

‘JTodd: Yeah Dickie comes by it honestly.’

That was probably a sign Danny shouldn’t do it again.

‘DannyP: 👀👀 think he’s mad at me’

Danny wasn’t great at following signs. Or sitting quietly, in all honesty.

‘JTodd: No one told you not to fly back.’

‘DannyP: Imma make it worse 😈😈’

Tucking his feet up to the edge of his seat, he slumped down as low as he could, glancing up at Bruce through his bangs.

“Sooooooo, how was lunch with Vlad? You seem to have survived, so I’m gonna guess football didn’t come up much?” He prodded, still half suspecting Masters had been up to something.

Bruce wasn’t overshadowed, didn’t have any of Vladdie’s taint that said it had happened in the past, but Danny wasn’t gonna rule out something new.

And all the clenching the big guy was doing on the wheel and on his jaw looked kinda painful.

‘JTodd: I’ll give a touching speech at your funeral.’

Bruce did finally force himself to relax though, sucking in a breath like he’d forgotten he had to.

Mood. Danny forgot about breathing a fair chunk too. Didn’t always remember to do it at all.

His posture changed too, shifting forcefully back to the more lax, open lines of his public persona, but there wasn’t much point. Danny could still feel his aura locked shut like a steel trap.

Being Batman kinda seemed like it sucked so far, and Bruce hadn’t even been a high school hero. Guess being an adult didn’t really make everything easier after all.

The smile he shot Danny didn’t show any of the inner turmoil though, so kudos there.

“It was great, actually. Your godfather is a very charming man,” he added, and Danny stuck his tongue out.

“Oh we’re so not calling him that. He’s just Vladdie, nothing to do with me at all,” he corrected vehemently, making a face.

Checked his phone.

‘DannyP: ABORT ABORT ABORT MISSION HE LIKES VLAD 😡🤮😱’

Bruce made a curious noise beside him, and Danny huffed. There were some things that would have been simpler if Vlad had just been brain washing him.

“Oh? He speaks very highly of you, Danny. I’m a little surprised you don’t get along.” The big guy was clearly fishing, and Danny would give him something to catch alright.

“Yeah? Cuz all he’s ever said to me was that I’m weak, lazy, unmotivated, and will never amount to anything without him. Oh, and that he wants to kill my dad and marry my mom,” he added as an afterthought.

And watched Bruce from the corner of his eye. He looked honestly surprised, but Danny had already learned not to judge from his face.

He felt surprised too though. Surprised and suspicious.

‘JTodd: He’s a great judge of character.’

Fuck it was hard not to laugh at his just flawless acting when Danny had the cheat sheet into his heart.

They drove in silence for a block, Bruce apparently not sure what to say, and Danny gave him a pat on the elbow.

“Don’t feel bad. I dunno what he’s playing at either, but he’s really, really good at telling people what they want to hear.”

And didn’t that do some interesting things to the guy’s aura. Danny had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from laughing.

No matter what he fucking said, it seemed to be convincing Bruce that he was sketchier and sketchier.

‘DannyP: okay but literally every word i say’s making him more and more suspicious and he didn’t even get whammied this is bs 😔😒💔’

He did kinda regret that one pretty much immediately, a sudden wave of protective anger pulsing through his aura.

Making a face again, he focused on wrapping Jason up in his own, soothing him with gentle reminders safe-safe-i’m fine-not hurting me.

Yeah, there were some fucking Issues with a capital I that Danny deadass just wasn’t gonna touch until Jazz got a look in.

No matter what though, he didn’t fucking like what it told him about Bruce. About Jason’s relationship with Bruce.

Maybe he shoulda brought the Fenton thermos. He usually had one on him, but his suit hadn’t come with pockets you could hide a thermos in.

For all Sam bitched about her dress, she coulda carried a rocket launcher and no one would have known.

He was so busy focusing on Jason he didn’t actually notice that Bruce was talking to him again until the man had repeated his name a couple of times, now sounding worried.

Feeling suspicious. Sounding worried.

“Danny?”

Danny shook his head, hair flopping around his face and half his attention still on Jason’s cranky ass.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” he said still half distracted, and felt the suspicion ramp up another notch.

For all that he couldn’t laugh aloud, wrapping the desire and the need to laugh around Jason seemed to be helping. He settled enough to text back anyway.

‘JTodd: Sorry. Probably my fault.’

Well that was bullshit.

“I said I’m sorry, Danny. He mentioned you had a difficult past, but I had no idea…”

And yeah, that probably was too. Easy to prioritise though.

‘DannyP: ur gonna be Jazz’s final psych project if u keep that up and i will not save u 😤🫡👻’

‘DannyP: 🖕💋he’s a grown ass adult and so am i and i can be a sketchy bitch just fine on my own sir’

And since Bruce was going to take whatever he did as suspicious anyway, Danny might as well get him warmed up for Harley.

“Yeah, well, don’t go throwing a public party to all of high society about it. Trust me, I do not need a second creepy billionaire trying to make me a show pony.”

Another block of silence, but Danny was satisfied that this one was at least less certain. Felt like a big decision was afoot.

Finally Bruce sighed and deflated, and for once his aura matched the gesture.

“It was a mistake, wasn’t it?” It almost wasn’t a question. Danny figured that progress deserved a reward anyway. Kinda.

“Well again, Harley Quinn came back from the Amazon to kick your ass about it, so yes. I think we can both agree that was a bad life choice.”

Bruce’s grip tensed on the steering wheel a little and Danny relented. Fuck him for being a softie.

Even when he was also still kinda pissed, it was hard to ignore the sudden doubt, fear, guilt suddenly stinking up the car.

The anger, much more familiar. Danny knew exactly what to do about angry people, but Bruce’s anger felt a little too familiar. A little too internal-only.

“He said you’d never told him you were sorry before, man. Not even once until you shoved him right into the spotlight. What does it say that you can say it to me but not him?” He asked softly.

Bruce was quiet for most of the rest of the drive, but since he actually seemed to be thinking about what Danny had said, Danny left him to it.

It was as they were finally pulling up to the gates of Wayne Manor that he spoke again.

“I may not have been much of a father to Jason, but I won’t see him hurt again. Not if I can help it.” There wasn’t actually any menace in the tone.

Just a stone cold certainty that was way, way scarier.

Well. Probably for anyone who wasn’t the actual ghost king. Or just uncontrollably sarcastic.

Danny grinned.

“Well if this is gonna be your shovel talk, you should be aware that I’ve already been six feet under. It takes a lot to scare me,” he teased, resting his bare feet on the console in front of him.

Outside, the gate swung slowly open. Bruce took advantage of the pause to stare directly at him again, those blue eyes suddenly piercing and not even trying to hide the intelligence within.

“Noted.”

And okay. Maybe Danny needed to invest in some more one liners, cuz that was way fucking cooler than any complicated threat or pun.

Kinda hated how cool it was, actually.

He let just a little of the eldritch creep into the smile he gave back.

“Oh, and Bruce? Samesies. Seems like Jason has a lot more people who have his back than he thinks he does, but now? He’s also got me. And Harley’s probably the nice one.”

If the guy was going to think the fucking worst of Danny no matter what, might as well use that to try and make him be a less shitty dad.

Shovel talking the Ghost King? That took some balls.

Bruce didn’t seem to be noticeably intimidated though. Just stared at Danny for a long moment, eyes narrowed, before he nodded again.

“You don’t know Harley well,” he remarked dryly, heading on up the ridiculously long driveway to the house.

Danny didn’t actually manage to pull all the way back into human tones before he laughed, the shadows stretching and creaking around the sound.

“Yeah, fair point.” He sure as shit wouldn’t argue it where she could hear him after all.

**

It took Steph to finally bring the conversation back around to the thermos.

They’d moved on to telling Harley the actual details of what had happened at the gala, from Bruce’s crimes to Sam and Danny’s.

Harley was absolutely delighted by the whole story, and it was Steph who gave Sam a gentle nudge, grinning at her.

“Y’know, I never got around to asking why you even had that giant thermos. I was with you most of the night and I never saw you drinking from it?” She asked.

Sam chuckled softly, reaching into the deep pocket of Cass’s pants and pulling out the thermos in question. She always had one on her.

Tucker was supposed to as well, but if he knew she was gonna be there? Yeah, he tended to forget. Or save the space for something more interesting.

“Oh, this? Yeah this really isn’t a drinking thermos,” she explained, setting it on the table and sharing an amused glance with Tucker.

Maybe side eying Jason. It was gonna be a drinking thermos for him, poor bastard.

Steph’s eyebrows rose and she reached out, taking the thermos when Sam nodded her assent. Turning it over in her hands.

“Wait, so it’s strictly a combat thermos?” She asked like it was a joke, grinning at Sam as she unscrewed the lid.

Tucker stifled a laugh from across the table and Sam grinned back, leaning back in her chair. The table had been cleared of dinner by now, but dessert they’d wait on Bruce and Danny for.

Speaking of Danny…

“Actually, yeah. The Fenton Thermos is pretty much our best tool for the rogue attacks we get in Amity Park,” she explained with a modest shrug.

Steph looked even more surprised, hefting the unexpected weight of what looked like an empty thermos.

“It made a pretty good throwing weapon,” Dick offered from the end of the table. Tucker snickered and shook his head, holding out a hand to Steph.

“It’s not actually meant to be for throwing, but that definitely worked,” he agreed, gesturing for the thermos.

Turning it to show the table, Tucker pointed to the big green button on the side. The big, obvious green button that you could pretty easily press by accident.

“You can capture ghosts with it once they’ve been weakened, and then Danny lets them out back in the Ghost Zone. It doesn’t actually hurt them, but apparently it’s not comfortable.”

“How do you know, if it only catches ghosts?” Duke asked, a slight frown on his face and he leaned forward to see around Tim.

Tucker shot him a smug grin, twirling the thermos and passing it back to Sam. Clearly enjoying his time in the spotlight, and Sam wouldn’t begrudge him that.

Not when she could bully him about showing off for his new boyfriend later. It was kinda cute watching that hero worship turning into an actual proper crush.

Cuter that Tim was being just an average guy, and Tucker was still losing his shit over it. Sweet revenge for all those times the boys teased her about her crush on Val.

“Well, for one thing pretty much all of our ghosts have stopped trying to attack these days, and some of them are actually pretty chill? Buuuut you can also use it to catch half ghosts,” Tucker explained with a smug grin.

Sam chuckled, taking the cap back from Steph and screwing it back on.

“Danny says it’s like being squished into a really tight sleeping bag. Worse if someone else is in there with him, but they can’t really move or fight in there.”

“If someone’s been a real pain in the ass sometimes Danny keeps them in Soup Time for a week or so as punishment,” Tucker added, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms behind his head.

“Isn’t that unethical?” Dick asked, down beside Damian, and Sam raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, do the people you arrest only get locked up for a day or so?” She asked dryly and Dick grinned, raising both hands.

“They don’t get locked in really tight sleeping bags. But what happens after they’re let out? They just go back in the Ghost Zone?” He prodded, not quelled by her stare this time.

Good. More fun when people fought back. And, for a cop, Dick wasn’t really all that bad.

He’d probably get fired for that pretty soon.

Sam shrugged, taking over the explanation for now and tucking the thermos back into her pocket.

“Pretty much. Most of the ghosts pretty much just showed up to fight Phantom and the trouble they caused around town was part of that.”

“Phantom being Danny’s superhero name?” Tim asked, looking extremely covetously at where the thermos had disappeared under the table.

Sam stuck her hand in the top of the pocket, keeping it on the lid of the thermos. They didn’t exactly have enough to spare.

Of course Tucker swept in when his boytoy had a question.

“Yeah, that’s him. The town used to call him Inviso-Bill until he actually told someone to call him Phantom instead,” he added, snickering.

Sam couldn’t resist chuckling along; honestly, if she ever learned who’d started that nickname she’d send them flowers. It was fucking priceless.

“Yeah. There were some rowdier ghosts, usually when their Obsessions got triggered, but honestly? Once they were beaten most of them settled down. It was just the ones that wanted to brawl with Danny that kept coming back.”

“We didn’t really have anything else to do with them either,” Tucker pointed out with a snicker, shaking his head, “it was Soup Time, back home, or the Fenton family dissection table.”

Their hosts looked suitably disturbed at that, Harley leaning in from her end of the table to be the voice of the room.

“The Fenton family what the fuck? Didn’t ya say the kid was a Fenton?” She asked sharply.

Sam ran a quick mental check of the list Danny had cleared them to talk about. Yeah, the Fenton parents were on it.

Just not the Ghost King stuff, anything about Jason, and anything specific about Ellie. No worries there.

She shrugged again, fingers tapping on the table. From her guess and Jason’s texting, Danny should be back soon.

“The Fenton parents were the ones who made a portal to the Ghost Zone in the first place. They were really interested in dissecting and studying any ghosts they could catch for a long time,” she explained dryly, not bothering to hide her feelings on the matter.

Duke looked a little sick. Maybe she should tone it down some, for the young and innocent among them.

“But that’d include Danny,” Dick pointed out, suspicion rising towards horror.

Sam fixed her gaze on him, not letting him look away.

“Yeah. It did. Which is why the three of us spent our high school years fighting ghosts and protecting the town in secret, cuz if we told anyone we thought Danny would go on the table.”

“They totally took it way better than we thought though,” Tucker tacked on quickly, searching something up on his PDA, probably for pictures of the GAV. “They’re Phantom’s biggest fans now.”

He tilted the screen to show Tim, whose jaw dropped.

Yeah, to be fair, words didn’t do the GAV’s new paint job justice. Tucker passed the tablet on to Tim to show Duke and Harley, and it made its way around the table.

They were probably running out of time.

Sam leaned in, catching the attention of the rest of the table and making eye contact with most of them.

“Some basic etiquette though, before Danny gets back? You never, ever ask a ghost how they died. They might bring it up, but you don’t ask. Okay?”

“Wait, why not?” Tim asked, his brows furrowing as he turned back to her. “Isn’t that the first thing they do in all those ghost hunting shows?”

Which. Well. Sam had a whole special rant about ghost hunting shows and their bullshit, but before she got started Jason cut her off.

“Cuz dying fucking sucks, Timmy. Do you wanna bug Steph or Dick about the times they died?” He asked pointedly, and Tim flushed.

Yeah, that kinda explained the death taint Sam could just about taste from half the table. She wasn’t going to mention it, because she had some damn manners.

Tim seemed to have gotten the point though, stammering a quick apology and sinking back into his seat. Tucker gave him a conciliatory pat on the shoulder.

“Pretty much the first thing you gotta learn about real ghosts is that ghost hunters have no idea what they’re doing. They don’t even ecto infuse their tech,” he added with a derisive snort.

Sam rolled her eyes, stifling a grin. Alfred had disappeared, which probably meant Danny was imminent.

“Harder to do without a ghost or half ghost on your team, Tuck. But more to the point, do you guys wanna see the Fenton Thermos in action?” She asked innocently, pulling it back out of her pocket to wiggle.

Once again, Harley spoke for the table.

“Hell yeah. Are ya gonna throw it at Brucie again too?” She asked brightly, and Sam paused, considering.

Finally sighed and shook her head.

“Probably not. I’ll let you handle him,” she decided, smirking as Harley reached back down for her trusty bedazzled bat.

“That’s what the ol’ Therapy Bat’s for,” Harley agreed brightly, getting to her feet. She’d clearly clocked Alfred’s exit too. And the approaching sets of footsteps.

Sam grinned and readied the thermos.

**

Bruce had almost forgotten that Harley would be waiting until Danny reminded him. An unusual lapse for him, but he had a lot on his mind.

The only thing he wanted to do was get down to the cave and talk to Constantine; to finally get some answers, both on what had gone wrong in Amity Park and precisely what was keeping them out now.

He had the very tiniest bit of hope that one question might also hold the answer to the other; that it was perhaps something Constantine had done, or could undo.

He did not like having to rely on biased secondary sources for data. It was frustrating to run into so many dead ends.

Luckily for him though, Danny had reminded him, which meant he could take Harley aside, find out what she wanted, and get it dealt with instead of going straight to the cave and being surprised.

As little as he liked John Constantine, he wouldn’t subject the man to Harley if he could help it. Harley was something of a kryptonite to many of the magicians; she broke their rules in ways they couldn’t reconcile.

Bruce absolutely did not doubt Zatanna that Harley had temporarily sold herself to a demon prince and within 24 hours annoyed him so much that he gave her back, deal intact.

She was a force to be reckoned with. And privately… Bruce would hang up the cowl if Constantine decided he wanted to give her methods a try on top of his own.

No. Best keep them as far away from each other as possible.

So he was accompanying Danny and Alfred to the family dining room, where he’d collect Harley and take her to his office.

Half an hour to get through whatever she wanted, and then he could go down and talk to Constantine. The perfect plan.

Part of him hoped that Danny had been right, and she was here to explain what he’d done wrong with Jason.

Bruce would be the first to admit that he just… couldn’t seem to do right when it came to his second son.

He loved Jason dearly, but his death was something Bruce had never gotten over. He’d seen Jason so many times, as he died and as Bruce imagined he’d have grown over those years.

It had been hard for him to believe Jason really was himself, even if he looked nothing like Bruce had always expected. He’d always been so small.

No. He’d refused to believe it. Refused to believe the kind, loving boy he’d known could have become this large and angry killer.

It had coloured their relationship ever since. The things Jason had done, the things Bruce had done to stop him.

The fury with which Jason had forced his real identity down Bruce’s throat until he couldn’t deny it anymore. The one person he thought he could never let down again.

Jason was calmer now. Had a lid on the rage, and just plain walked away when he was on the edge of his control. Bruce admired that, as much as he could.

The only thing Bruce knew how to do with his emotions was push them aside and try to keep soldiering on, and it had cost his family so many times.

He’d thought he was getting better, but when it came to Jason… Bruce knew he still wasn’t thinking clearly. He’d upset Jason at the gala, he knew he had.

He’d seen it in his face, even if Jason had covered it before reaching the stage. He just wasn’t sure how.

Bruce prided himself on his ability to read faces. He was certainly no Cass, but it was his most used skill. Jason’s had never been a mystery to him before.

But somehow all Bruce could see in the older Jason’s face was the shadows of the bruises, the beating that face had worn the last time Bruce held him in his arms.

Cold. Lifeless. A death mask that only ever seemed to clear under Lazarus green rage.

He didn’t know when his baby boy had become so unreadable to him. What part of the horrors which Jason had lived through had made him put on a mask so thick Bruce couldn’t see through it.

And he was afraid to ask. Afraid of what he might see under that mask, and afraid to hear everything Jason had been put through because of Bruce’s failure.

He could have asked Danny in the car. At least where he’d gone wrong last night. They’d been alone, without anyone to overhear. And yet…

Bruce couldn’t bring himself to trust Danny. Oddly he found himself liking the boy more since Danny had threatened him, but his doubts remained.

Vlad had been personable, charming, and open during their meal together, and Bruce knew all too well how vile men could put on a front like that.

Normally he would have trusted Danny’s impression of Vlad over his own implicitly; it was part of the reason he brought his children to galas.

Brucie Wayne was too well known, too powerful, too influential. No one wanted to show him anything but their best, the sides they thought he would like to see.

The truest measure of a person came in the way they treated those they saw as beneath them, and for most adults that would automatically always include children.

Danny’s words tracked with the odd moments of quiet regret in Masters’ face when he talked about his godson. Far more egregious than the “misunderstandings” he’d hinted at, but a testament nonetheless.

There had been no trace of a lie in Danny’s voice or face. And yet.

There was no fear either. Not a trace of concern at being alone in the room together before Bruce returned.

None of the wariness one would naturally expect when a young man faced a much older adult who had at the very least made serious threats towards his family and possibly psychologically abused him.

It didn’t make sense. There was no right or wrong way to respond to an abuser, but Danny’s open antagonism of Vlad pointed at something else. A piece Bruce was still missing of what passed between them.

There were too many unanswered questions about Danny Fenton, and the situation with Jason was too delicate to rely on a single unknown factor.

No.

Danny may take advantage of any perceived weakness to steer him wrong, push him to another mistake, widen the rift between Bruce and his son.

It wasn’t safe. Wasn’t the plan.

For all that she’d been a rogue, Bruce trusted Harley implicitly… at least in matters of the heart. On the off chance she was there for anything else, he could still ask her before she left.

Maybe after he was done with Constantine.

Of course no one was around to give him answers when he had plenty of spare time on his hands. No, they had to come all at once.

Fine.

He may have to leave Jason with Danny for now, but they would hardly be unsupervised. The others would keep a watch for him while he got answers.

Bruce was actually beginning to feel pretty good about the evening by the time they reached the dining room.

And then the door opened, Danny walked through, and vanish in a blur of bright blue light.

Bruce threw up a hand to shield his eyes as light flashed across him, and it went dark a moment later.

Sam Manson was holding the thermos again (his head throbbed a warning), screwing the lid back on with a satisfied smirk.

Danny Fenton was gone. Just gone. Like he’d never been there, until.

“I fucking hate you so much.”

That was Danny’s voice, no doubt about it, coming from… the thermos.

What.

As Steph would say.

The fuck.

**

Harley was the first to recover her voice, throwing both hands into the air and whooping.

“Now THAT is what I call a party trick! You kids ever wanna come out Coney Island way ya can stay with me an’ take a turn at th’ Freakshow if ya want!”

The room froze, temperature actually plummeting as the Amity Parkers both flinched.

(Danny mighta also flinched but he was in a soup thermos, it was harder to tell.)

Tucker spoke up, making a face and exchanging a look with Sam.

“Uh… pass, thanks. Had some pretty bad experiences with clowns and circuses,” he explained, and Harley nodded understandingly.

No matter how much he liked to pretend he was, Joker was hardly the first asshole to wear the face paint.

It was why she didn’t wear hers if she was gonna be anywhere around Jason.

Not like she’d liked the full face stuff Joker did anyway. She could have a lot more fun with eyeshadow and a little lipstick, but some people needed to be terrified.

Harley Quinn’s war paint was satisfyingly terrifying enough that she’d pull it out for special occasions.

“Yeah, that’s fair,” she agreed easily, noted the air began to warm.

So it was one of them doing it. And from the way the two she could see relaxed just after, she’d put her money on Danny. Made sense with the ghost thing.

Anyway, she’d come here for a reason. Strolling casually over towards Brucie, she ruffled a hand through Jason’s and then Sam’s hair.

“Yer all still welcome to come visit though, just call ahead an’ I’ll tell the crew to put the theatrics on hold. I got a whole floor full of puppies and kittens that need some love,” she told them cheerfully.

And paused at a sudden horrible ripping sound, like part of the universe had been velcro and just pulled itself apart.

A glowing green hole opened just behind Sam’s chair and Danny’s head poked through, just a little below Harley’s height.

“You have a fucking what?”

She ruffled his hair too, grinning.

“Yeah, building I inherited had a free floor my aunt used ta rent, I didn’t want anyone upsettin’ my crew and all these lil cuties were just wasting away at the pound so Ivy did me up an indoor park. There’s about thirty of ‘em,” she explained brightly.

Sam snickered, settling comfortably in her turned chair.

“Bet cleaning up after that many is a treat,” she commented dryly and Harley tipped her a wink.

“It’s no trouble! I do the scoopin’ and once a week we load the big bags up on th’ roof catapult and shoot ‘em into the city. At the mayor’s house if he’s bein’ trouble.”

“Harley, I have a theory about who might want you gone,” Duke put in from the other end of the table, all dry sarcasm.

Harley laughed and blew him a kiss, giving her bat a lazy twirl.

“Hey, if he wants me ta stop all he’s gotta do is stop bein’ a pain in my ass an’ I’ll shoot ‘em at the dump,” she told him cheerfully, then turned back to Danny.

Back in the black hair. Didn’t seem like it mattered if he was actively a ghost or not gettin’ sucked inta the thermos. Interesting.

“You need a tow out?” She asked, other hand dropping back to his hair to give a gentle tug.

Danny gave her a slightly suspicious look.

“Do you promise no mind control or creepy clown shit?” He asked warily, and Harley loosed her grip to pat him on the cheek.

“Pinky promise, suga. I’m about to go give Brucie ‘is own private dose of scary clown shit that I’m sure he’ll completely understand that he wants to be in private,” she added more pointedly, giving Bruce a sharp look over her shoulder.

Behind her, Danny shrugged and pulled the rest of his body through the green rip, giving Sam a smack upside the head as his feet touched the floor and snatching the thermos from her.

“Confiscated til you’ll only use it’s power responsibly,” he told her, sticking his tongue out and dropping down into his seat, thermos held preventatively back and over his head.

Which made it all too easy for Jason to reach up and grab it from him, tucking it into the front of his hoodie pocket when Danny whipped around indignantly.

“You’re not responsible either,” Jason pointed out smugly and Danny sputtered but didn’t quite find words to argue.

They were fucking adorable.

If she didn’t have ta go try and beat the sense back inta Brucie’s head she’d have the time of her life just pinching their cheeks and winding them up about what to her studied eye was a pair of oblivious fresh forming crushes.

Young love was just the cutest when it was in that awkward blushy denial phase.

Yeah, Brucie was getting an extra whap for tearing her away from that.

Turning back to the big man, she prodded her bat into the center of his chest.

“So! Whaddaya think, big guy? Wanna give a nice big public apology for ya fuck up or shall we go talk somewhere in private?” She asked firmly, emphasizing those last words into a threat.

Bruce’s attention snapped away from glaring at Danny and Jason to fix on her, clearly analyzing her words. Of all the hopeless little shits…

She was gonna find someone to get him his proper diagnosis. Had to at this point.

Couldn’t be her, she was technically a conflict of interest, but holy fuck the man screamed emotional disregulation with a hefty side of autism spectrum.

At least he’d know what direction he needed help in, as if he wouldn’t promptly ignore any advice that included “talk about ya damn feelings”. Too bad for him.

She gave him another firm poke with the bat and he nodded sharply, gaze snapping from her around to the door.

His shoulders settled just a little, posture relaxing in what she knew was relief as he motioned for her to follow. Still looked tense as hell, but she’d probably only get a dime back for bouncing a nickel off him now.

That was real relaxed for Brucie.

Maybe he was finally self aware enough to accept that he needed some help with all the emotional stuff.

Good. Maybe she’d only do one kneecap.

**

As Harley followed Bruce out of the room, Sam’s phone began buzzing dramatically in her pocket. Abandoning her quest for the thermos, she pulled it out and glanced down.

Grinned wickedly. She’d been expecting this for a while now actually.

“Aw, look, my parents saw our selfies on Twitter,” she cooed sarcastically, Manson Party Voice making a brief return.

Danny scooted just a little away from the still buzzing phone.

“So are you gonna get that?” He asked as Alfred brought him a perfectly reheated plate. “What? Oh, thanks.”

Sam shrugged, hit speakerphone, and set it on the table. They’d posted those pictures pretty much solely for the incoming reaction.

“Hey mom, what’s up?” She said sweetly, still in her public facing voice.

Her mother did not sound nearly as composed.

“SAMANTHA. Where ARE you?! What are you wearing?! Where are your clothes and WHY, in the name of all that’s good, are you anywhere near HARLEY QUINN?! Have you been kidnapped?!”

Sam rolled her eyes hard enough that Tucker faked a fatal injury across the table. She flipped him off as Tim and Duke stifled laughs.

“Yes, mother, I have been kidnapped and just answered my phone completely normally. I’m at the Waynes’,” she added quickly, before her mother could jump to conclusions.

And gave her some new conclusions to jump to instead, but who cared. Still, something seemed to be sticking in her mom’s mind.

“With Harley Quinn?” She asked suspiciously after a moment’s silence.

Which, to be fair, was kind of a good point.

“Apparently she’s a family friend? Like Grandma and Ivy,” Sam added delicately, a vicious satisfaction rising through her.

She’d gotten to say her piece at the gala yesterday and had thought she was done, but. Well. Years of restriction and so on.

She was definitely still having fun winding her parents up.

Her mom’s sharp intake of breath was clearly audible even over the phone, and then the shouting started again.

“Samantha MANSON do not even THINK about going anywhere with that woman! You have responsibilities! School! Your work! We’re coming to pick you up RIGHT NOW, and… where are your CLOTHES?!”

Alfred cleared his throat from behind them, where he’d stayed from delivering Danny’s dinner. Sam half turned and he raised a brow, inclining his head slightly.

She scooted her chair out of the way to let him get closer to the phone, waving a hand in open invitation.

“If I may interject,” Alfred said calmly, not a trace that anything was even slightly amiss, “the young lady’s clothes are in the dryer at present. They will be finished shortly.”

Another long silence. Her mom probably realizing that Sam had her on speaker. And that she would still be on speaker the next time she spoke.

Finally she choked out a terse, “thank you. I do hope she has been behaving herself. We will be there to pick you up in half an hour, Sammy, and we will Have Words.”

Which Sam kinda doubted, given where the hotel was and how long it had taken Danny and Bruce to get back, but time would tell.

At least they weren’t hiring a helicopter.

It sucked to have to leave, but she’d have needed to head out soon anyway. Her flight back to university would be leaving this evening, and at least this way she could hang out with the others until her parents arrived.

No reason not to needle them more though.

“Aw but mom, I’m having such a good time hanging out with Cass,” she sighed, switching from Party to Heartfelt Woe expertly.

Down beyond Jason, Cass stifled a giggle. It clearly sent Sam’s mom into another spiral of conflicting emotions; delight, hope, ecstasy, and ongoing horror at the presence of Harley.

Who, technically, was no longer present in the room, but telling her mom that would only make her feel better, so Sam wasn’t gonna bother.

Honestly, if she wanted to run away and be an ecoterrorist with Pamela Isley, she could just ask Grandma to text her. She didn’t need kidnapping.

Still, apparently the risk of a close contact with Poison Ivy outweighed her mom’s desire to see her cozy up with the Waynes.

It’d have been real sweet if it had been a worry for Sam’s health instead of a worry about what Sam would do to other peoples’ health. The lack of trust stung, truly.

“We’ll be there in half an hour, Sammy. Get your clothes back on and say thank you for having you,” her mom warned, tone sharp and clipped.

And then hung up the phone before anyone could argue, because while she never used to listen to Sam before, she did somehow still know her. Ah well.

Sam sighed, stuffing the phone back into her borrowed pocket.

“Guess my parole has ended. I’ve gotta get back for my next semester anyway, but you have my number?” She asked Steph, looking from her back to Cass.

Both women nodded enthusiastically, Steph sighing and slumping forward into the table.

“Do you really have to go? Harley probably won’t be done with Brucie by then, you’ll miss the best part!”

But in all honesty, Sam wasn’t too upset about that. She’d made her feelings perfectly clear via thermos, and if Jason wasn’t satisfied with Bruce’s real apology she could always come back.

So she shrugged, grinning.

“Guess it’s my turn to get the video recap once it’s all over. You guys’ll film it for me, right?” She asked, looking from Danny to Tucker.

Both of whom gave her a thumbs up.

“We should make a new group chat,” Tucker mused eagerly, already pulling his phone up, “one for all of us.”

“Then we’d know which galas you were coming to!” Steph agreed at once, her own phone magically appearing in hand.

Dick snickered, leaning back in his seat.

“Said like Steph’s ever let Bruce drag her to one against her will,” he teased and Steph flipped him off.

“Hey, if you’d had the good sense not to let him adopt you you wouldn’t have to do them either,” Steph told him primly. Dick rolled his eyes.

“I’m his ward, not adopted,” he argued mostly futilely, and Sam snickered.

“And still have to go apparently. Doesn’t the ward thing end once you’re a legal adult?” She asked innocently.

Dick gave her a deadpan stare.

“Ma’am, if you want to try and wrest an orphan from the hands of Bruce Wayne you be my fucking guest, I gave up years ago.”

Which, fair. Their rifts had been legendary enough to make the circuit. She toasted him with her phone and settled back.

“Point taken. If being a cop didn’t make him give you up nothing will,” she added slyly, and Dick mimed grievous injury, slumping forward onto the table as the others laughed.

Grinning her triumph, Sam turned back to Alfred.

“So if you just show me where the laundry room is I can grab my clothes?” She offered, trying yet again to be helpful.

Being from a rich family didn’t mean having no damn manners, no matter how often it looked like it.

The old man gave her another of his extremely arch expressions, an eyebrow rising as if to question her impertinence. He had to be fucking with her.

“I shall bring your clothes to the downstairs bathroom on this hall when they are done so that you may change, Miss Manson,” he said coolly.

She’d never heard anything like it.

It didn’t sound like he was upset or offended the way people usually did when their voices iced over that sharply. Just… not an ounce of wiggle room.

Not a sliver of a hint that anything he was saying would not happen exactly as he’d decreed it. He sounded more imperious than a king, and she’d seen those.

Sam kinda imagined that’d be what Clockwork would sound like if she ever met the guy.

Duke misinterpreted her decidedly impressed stare with a wry chuckle, apparently misinterpreting her expression.

Fair, since he couldn’t know she was comparing him to the living manifestation of Time.

Well. Ghostly manifestation. Same difference.

“Miss Manson’s probably the best you’ll get out of him,” Duke said almost apologetically, grinning. “It’s gonna be that or Miss Samantha.”

Which admittedly was enough to make her turn to face him, curiosity peaked.

“What do you mean?” She asked, glancing back up at Alfred.

She couldn’t read anything but serenity in his face, but mild amusement practically radiated off him. She’d have to ask Danny what he saw in his aura.

Dick took this one too, sitting back in his seat and grinning at her.

“Alfie’s serious about the whole “proper titles and full names” thing. I’ve been trying for almost twenty years to make him call me “Dick”, and I think he’d be slower to give that up than Bruce’d be to unadopt me,” he explained cheerfully, arm tossed over the back of his chair.

Alfred treated him to a slowly raised eyebrow too.

“As you say, Master Richard,” he agreed placidly and Sam pressed her lips together on a smile.

She didn’t have to turn around to know exactly what face Danny would be making. The last thing he needed was another scary old man full naming him.

And right on cue…

“Uh… can I specifically request Mister Fenton then?” Danny asked and sure enough when she turned, yup, he even had his hand in the air like a child.

Alfred treated him to that calm stare as well.

“May I ask why, Mister Daniel?” He asked, clearly prodding despite every line of both face and posture oozing nothing but polite respect.

Danny fully flinched, which was interesting. He barely reacted whenever Vlad said his name.

Sam adjusted her opinion of Alfred along a couple “scarier than Vlad” levels.

“I have name-related trauma from another billionaire who refuses to call me anything but that,” Danny admitted sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It’s a really not-fun association.”

“Vlad again?” Tim asked from across the table, sounding sympathetic.

Danny pulled a face at him, sort of grimacing more than a smile.

“Oh yeah. And let’s just say he also does it in super bad situations, so I’d be happier to just never hear it again.”

Sam peaked back over her shoulder at Alfred, wondering what he’d do with this news.

If Danny was gonna be a fixture in Jason’s life (and let’s be honest, he’d be a fixture in Jason’s bedroom by the end of the month), and Jason was a fixture in Alfred’s… they’d see more of each other.

Everyone knew Bruce had been basically raised by Alfred. If he was half as emotionally constipated…

But there was an actual human expression on the old man’s face now, and it looked a damn sight like shame. He cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to him.

“My apologies, Mister Fenton. Would you perhaps prefer Mister Danny?” He asked, which would have seemed completely innocuous on its own.

Dick slammed both fists into the table, making half the table burst into giggles.

“Fucking SERIOUSLY?! Is it just me! This is bullshit Alfie!” He declared dramatically.

Tim looked equally gobsmacked, jaw on the proverbial floor as he stared at Alfred, and even Steph looked put out and impressed.

Danny, deeply confused but relieved, stuck his tongue out at Dick.

“Hey, if you want another overly possessive and creepy billionaire determined to control your life you’re welcome to take him off my hands,” he declared smugly, and Sam snorted a laugh.

There was a decided devilry in young Damian’s face too, which vanished almost immediately after it appeared as the youngest spoke up.

“Honestly, Richard, you must admit that Danny’s situation is decidedly more grave than your own,” he said simply, a strong undercurrent of smugness under the words.

Tim threw both hands into the air so hard he almost tipped his chair over.

“Him too?! Come the fuck ON!” He proclaimed to the world at large as Duke snorted half a glass of water out of his nose in a choked laugh.

Tim gave him a hearty slap on the back that was probably supposed to help, the younger boy still wheezing and gasping for air, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge him.

There was clearly something of an inside joke going on, and it wasn’t exactly a complicated one.

Danny had already settled back in his seat, perfectly happy with the consternation he’d caused, and Sam joined him.

Watching the dramatics of the extended Wayne clan was even better at home than it had been at the gala. For a show this good, she’d have bought tickets.

**

As she closed the office door behind her, Harley took a moment to give Bruce another, slower once over.

It had been a while since she saw him last, and between what Selina had told her and what the kids told her, she wanted a read on his headspace.

He looked… well, like he had a stick up his ass a mile high, but that was pretty much default for him when he wasn’t being Brucie. Never learned how to take a breath, that guy.

But from the way he moved straight to his desk, not even pausing to see if she shut the door before dropping into his seat, she’d put money on “tired”.

Not just regular nightlife tired either, if he showed it this easily. Freshly shaved, dressed immaculately, face done up with minimal but flattering makeup.

He’d put himself together pretty today, but something was cracking underneath.

Once she was satisfied she’d gotten the big picture, she sauntered after him and hopped up to sit on his desk, foot pressed firmly to the middle of his chest to go for the details.

“So, Brucie, do ya know why I’m here?” She asked expectantly. It’d tell her a lot about where they were starting from; it was hard to fool the big bat, and none of ‘em had been trying.

Bruce raised an eyebrow at her foot, but wisely didn’t move to touch it. Clever boy. He might win a physical fight if they got serious, but he also knew she was damn good at what she did.

If they threw down, she wouldn’t be helping him untwist that mess in his head. And he wouldn’t be walking away unscathed either.

No good with some fresh heroes who weren’t in on the Secret around. She could assume he’d made the calculations, but none of them showed. And wouldn’t it be nice if he hadn’t needed to?

Instead he sighed, leaning further back in his chair and rubbing both hands down his face.

Harley adjusted her estimate from “tired” to “fucking exhausted”. Not a good sign.

“I hope it has something to do with Selina texting you last night about the gala,” was all he said though, cryptic fuck.

Harley pushed with her toes just enough to make the chair roll back.

“Specifically, Brucie. If you can tell me what ya did wrong I’ll make it easier on you,” she teased, waving her bat playfully.

Like they didn’t both know the real damage would be with her words. Bruce preferred the bat though. In all ways, which, ha! She could still rock a killer joke.

He gave her one of his grouchy bat glares too, then slumped. Practically pre-broken. Something had to be up.

“I gave a speech. I… apologized to Jason for not being there when he…” he trailed off and Harley nodded, willing to accept that. Hard topics, and not one they’d discuss today.

Not that she wasn’t waiting with baited breath for Bruce to FINALLY decide he wanted to unload some o’ that trauma. But hey, baby steps.

He looked back up a second later, the mask gone as he met her eyes. He looked agonized.

For Bruce, anyway. Perfectly normal to anyone who didn’t really know how he ticked. But those lines around his eyes, the tension in his jaw?

Harley knew. From watching him when he’d thought he’d failed long ago, and from comforting him when one of the kids got hurt more recently.

“He looked like he’d seen a ghost, Harley. I’ve never seen him so shaken.”

Which Harley did have to bite back an entirely inappropriate laugh at. Jason looked preeeeetty happy to be canoodling with an actual ghost in the dining room right now.

She kept it on lock though. Totally professional.

Honestly, she was a little impressed Bruce had noticed. Jason was infamously his blind spot.

Humming softly she nodded slowly, fingers drumming along the shaft of the bat as she regarded him.

“And why do you think he did that, Bruce?” She prodded gently.

She was gonna have a check in with Jason later, not least for all the deets on his adorable new “friend”. Somewhere private, where the others couldn’t see.

But from what she’d seen tonight… Jason looked good. More relaxed, at ease with himself in a way that really tugged at her heart.

She hadn’t seen a lot of Jason since his return; she hadn’t stayed in Gotham long after breaking free of the Joker. But she’d come back when Selina called, and heard Waylon’s stories.

Of course he hadn’t come back as the happy, cheeky kid full of sunshine and magic. Even if he’d survived the warehouse he’d have changed.

The kid who’d cried at the thought of letting Bruce down so hard she’d foiled Joker’s plans herself so it wouldn’t happen… had been let down even more.

Even from a distance she’d read it in every inch of him; festering rage, pain, moving more like the big Bat than ever. Like his body was just a weapon he was barely connected to.

Like nothing else mattered but his mission, and he’d run on broken legs without even noticing. Like he didn’t think there was anything about him worth protecting.

(It may have factored into one of her own visits back to Arkham, even if Mister J had left her alone.)

The poor guy had been so full of anger ever since he came back, and for all that she’d been Joker’s when he died he’d never blamed her.

If anyone else on Earth knew what it was like to have your life torn to the ground by that bastard, to have nothing left even after you crawled away, it was Jason.

Harley wouldn’t have blamed him for hating her just as much as the clown himself, but he hadn’t. Not even full dark side. Not even that first time, Tim’s blood still on his suit.

He’d tensed to fight, admitted he’d heard about the big split, and believed her when she swore it was true. Even accepted her number, though he hadn’t called for almost a year.

They weren’t close, not like she was with the baby bats these days, but Harley worried about him.

There was something broken in Jason that still hadn’t healed, that he kept gashing himself on its sharp edges. Something that might finally be scabbing over.

So yeah, this was 1000% not the fucking time for Bruce to be all up in his bullshit.

At least he seemed to know that too, shaking his head and slumping forward against her foot so he could rest his head in his hands.

“I… I don’t know. I thought I could show him how sincere I was. Have witnesses who’d hold me to it. Not force him to be alone with me when it’s clearly not what he wants,” he admitted bitterly, shoulders slumping.

Harley let out another low hum, tracking every inch of his posture with alert eyes.

Yeah, that was true. Fucking stupid, especially from a guy as sharp as Brucie, but true. And fully consistent with his character.

Then she sighed, pushing him back upright, foot rising up almost to his collar to make him look at her.

“Did ya think about asking Jason what he wanted?” She asked dryly, fully aware of what the answer would be.

Watched Bruce’s face pinch in annoyance. Probably at himself, which would be good. Sometimes the answer literally was that easy.

He still shook his head, even if he didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“I thought…” he sighed again, running a hand through his hair, but didn’t try and hunch. “I didn’t think. I assumed he would see it the way I did.”

Which he’d clearly already noticed Jason hadn’t. Honestly, Harley was almost proud of the man. He wasn’t usually this emotionally aware.

No wonder he was exhausted. Lotta introspection, using all those brain muscles he abjectly refused to hone.

Harley nodded and crossed one leg over the other, switching out which foot kept Bruce pinned to his chair.

“It’s one helluva lot ta throw at someone in front of an audience, Brucie,” she agreed plainly, and watched with interest as that moment if irritation sharpened.

Almost pulled him back to bat face.

“You sound like Danny,” he grumbled, not actually arguing. Might have tried to cross his arms if her foot wasn’t in the way.

Harley wasn’t having any of it. She knew she’d liked the kid.

“Good, he’s got two braincells ta rub together. What’s more important: that people see you say you’re sorry, or how Jason feels?” She asked sharply, her patient tone evaporating.

To his credit, Bruce didn’t hesitate.

“Jason.” This, there was no question of. Good.

“And who knows best how Jason feels?” She pushed on, eyes narrowing when he hesitated.

“Don’t make me use the bat, Brucie,” she warned him, and Bruce sighed again, shaking his head.

“I know what you want me to say, Harley. But Jason… his emotions are unpredictable. Out of control. I doubt even he knows what they are half the time.”

Which, frankly, they weren’t going to get into at the moment, if ever. Jason’s emotional state was Jason’s business.

Harley fixed Bruce with an unimpressed stare, raising an eyebrow.

“Good thing I didn’t ask anyone to control it, huh? But who. Knows. How Jason feels.” It was barely a question anymore, the tapping of her bat against the desk more an empty threat.

She wasn’t against percussive maintenance, especially where Brucie was concerned; he responded better to violence than words half the time.

Kinda like he needed the stubbornness actually knocked out of him before he could listen. It was why she wouldn’t recommend him to any ol’ civilian friends still in the biz.

Not that they’d have appreciated her recommendation.

He stared her down for a moment, defiant even with the bat to hand. Harley let the other brow rise slowly and crossed her arms, leaning forward to lean on her knee.

Bruce could outstare a cat, but he couldn’t impress or intimidate her and he knew it.

He said nothing, still staring her down, and she could see where his brain had turned off and the stubbornness kicked in.

Fine. She’d played this game before, and she knew what he expected to come next.

Sometimes she even let him have it, a little rough and tumble so he could wrestle himself out of his head by wrestling her. But today, there were way more interesting things for her to do with her time.

Nothing short circuited a pattern of habit like the wrong response. Or a response that pulled up an older pattern.

Still staring him dead in the eye, she stuck her finger in her mouth, licked it wet, then leaned forward to shove it in his ear.

Bruce jerked back, hands almost rising defensively even as he made a disgusted face.

“Harley! Stop!” He protested, already losing a little of that stoic wall, and Harley grinned. It’d worked since they were Jason’s age in college and probably always would.

In his bat-suit, Bruce could take any torture, any indignity and never break. Without that cowl though, he was the same dweeb who’d joined the cheerleading squad with her because Harvey pouted.

It was really a very good thing she’d been on her way out of the rogue business before she cracked his identity, but since he’d always known hers he probably had plans against her.

He didn’t use them though, and she appreciated that, even as she licked her other finger fast and stuck it in his other ear.

“Say it, Brucie, or I’ll lick every pen in this office,” she threatened, watched a smile almost crack. And watched him sag, one of her wrists in each hand, his expression sobering.

Not closing off again though. Now his exhaustion was plain to see, along with the lingering sorrow and regret.

Looked like that little tussle would be enough for today. Probably.

“Jason knows what he’s feeling best. I am sorry, Harley. I never meant to hurt him,” he confessed almost in a whisper, and Harley let her own dramatics subside too.

It wasn’t what he needed anymore.

Hooking her foot in under the arm of the chair, she pulled him back in towards her.

“I know, kid. An’ lucky for you, Jason’s got a lotta people in his corner, and he’s a resilient boy. He’s gonna be alright.” His relationship with Bruce could only get so much worse, honestly.

No matter how the two disasters kept rubbing each other wrong, there was still love there. That was what had hurt Jason so much in the first place.

If he hadn’t loved Bruce, he wouldn’t care what the man thought of him. If he hadn’t thought Bruce loved him once, he wouldn’t care that the Joker lived.

Maybe one day she’d knock their heads together and make them talk it out.

Today, Bruce gave her a helpless look.

“I don’t even know how I hurt him, Harley. I should have asked, I know I put him on the spot, but I never thought… how can I stop if I don’t know what I’m doing wrong?”

Harley sighed softly, straightening back up and tugging her hands back easily, propping them on the desk behind her.

It was a tough one, not because the answer was hard, but because it’d be hard for Bruce. But he might finally be ready to hear it, if he’d done this much of the work without her.

“You know what I’m gonna tell you,” she prodded gently and didn’t push back when he pulled the chair in enough to brace his elbows on the desk on either side of her hips and bury his face in his hands.

Muffled the hell outta his voice, but she could still make out the words.

“Talk to him.” Which, yeah, she had a chuckle at the irony, petting mussed black hair.

“Yeah, yeah, the Bat’s one weakness, clear communication. But you don’t know Jason as well as ya think ya do, Brucie. He’s not the kid you brought home.”

He pushed up at that, frown on his face and mouth open to argue, and she placed a finger across it to shush him.

“I know ya think you know that. But he’s really, really not. And thinking ya still know him the same way is how you keep hurting each other.” She gentled her voice, kept it soft, but he still slumped like she’d punched him.

She went back to petting his hair. He preferred punching.

“Stop trying to surprise him. Ask what he wants. And if you can’t tell him how you feel…” she paused for a moment, let Bruce huff out the beginnings of a grumble, and chuckled softly.

No surprise there.

“Then try writing it down. Write him a letter, and keep it to yourself until you know what you want to say. As many as it takes, and toss ‘em right in the fire. And if ya still can’t say it aloud, hide one in yer underwear drawer or somewhere personal.”

That prompted him to look up again and Harley cocked a brow, grinning.

“What better way ta make one of your nosey lot read it?” She asked, grin settling to a smirk when Bruce’s lower lip slid out in a pout.

Not that fake pretty boy play one he did for cameras, the real Bruce Wayne Does Not Like You’re Right.

Catching it between forefinger and thumb she gave it a gentle tug.

“Seriously though. Try it. It’s easier than tryin’ ta improvise. And always, especially double important if yer gonna be in public, talk ta Jason first. No more surprises, or how’s ‘e gonna trust you?”

He knocked her hand away, but his eyes did that far off thing they always did when he was calculating, so she assumed he was taking it on board.

Finally he nodded, glanced at the clock, and frowned. Rigid mask falling back into place, her old classmate disappearing again.

“I’m afraid I have a meeting, Harley. Cape business. Was that all?” He did actually sound kinda sorry, so Harley forgave him for switching himself off before they finished.

“Fine. But I’m stickin’ around fer a bit, so we’ll talk about the apology thing later,” she warned, giving his chest another sharp poke and then trying to neaten the mess she’d made of his hair with her fingers.

Gave it up as a bad job.

“An’ put the cowl on, ya look like a drowned bat.”

He raised a pointed eyebrow at her, the gesture saying more clearly than words whose fault that was, and let her push him back far enough to stand.

“Thanks, Harley. I probably won’t be back tonight,” he told her, voice already lowering into that bat growl Selina went crazy for.

Hopping off the desk, Harley waved him away and bent to scoop her bat off the floor.

“Yeah, yeah. I gotta check on Waylon tomorrow anyway, but I’ll drop by when I have a minute.” She paused at the door and grinned over her shoulder at him. “The little one didn’t even try an’ stab me today.”

Bruce gave her a tight smile back, already at the clock. Ready for his Grand Descent. Dramatic bitch.

“High praise, from Damian,” he acknowledged, and Harley laughed, heading back out into the manor.

Maybe she’d join the kids for dessert.

**

Bruce had to admit he felt lighter as the door closed behind Harley.

She hadn’t told him anything he didn’t know, not really, but just. Knowing she was here. That she knew why Jason was upset, and would help him fix it.

He was always grateful that she’d been one of the rogues who turned… well, not exactly straight, he kept up with her exploits in Coney Island, but good.

She cared about people, and protected what she considered hers fiercely. Luckily for him, that included his brood.

And. Maybe. Just maybe.

Danny might have had a point.

Perhaps Harley could help him work out why it was easier to tell Jason he was sorry to a room full of people than it was at his son’s hospital bed after a bad patrol.

He changed in the elevator on the way to the cave, the spare suit from his office easy and familiar to put on.

A good thing too, since just as he arrived and settled in front of the Batcomputer to pull up anything he thought he might need (and telling himself it definitely wasn’t evidence against a colleague), the zeta tube activated.

::B069 - John Constantine::

Tonight was finally going to be his night.

**

A hundred feet up in the dining room, Danny Fenton stiffened abruptly mid conversation, senses prickling as someone new crossed his aura.

Well. Someone different. There was no mistaking that potent, crackling cloud of mixed wards and magic. It had been a while since they’d been to Amity Park, but it certainly wasn’t someone new.

A slow, thoughtful smile spread across his lips and he settled back in his chair, ignoring the surprised looks from his companions as he considered this development.

It certainly answered his earlier question.

A hand rose slowly to cup his chin, fingers drumming along his jawline as a slow chuckle slipped free.

Tonight might just be more interesting than the gala after all.

“So that’s John Constantine… huh.”

———————

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[lipstickitty]

I Wanna Be Yours

Chapter Three

3.1k+ words

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS GO AWAY!! demon!reader, fluff, language, drinking alcohol, mentions of death, heavy petting, making out, dirty talk, subby Jake, soft dom reader, restraints, teasing, praise kink Jake, pet names, oral f&m receiving, face riding, handjobs, fingering m receiving, rimming

It went on like that for a while, you meeting Jake for coffee after your shifts, and texting throughout the day on your days off. He’d been trying to talk you into going out with him on one of your off days, insisting that as much as he loved having coffee and petting cats with you, he would love to have an actual meal with you on a day where you’re free, not just trying to decompress after a busy day.

Your continuous refusals didn’t dampen his enthusiasm, however, he was nothing if not persistent (and sweet). Eventually you felt so guilty, and you’d officially run out of excuses, that you begrudgingly agreed to dinner with him. Not that you didn’t want to go; quite the opposite. So much so in fact, that you were pacing your bedroom hours before you’d agreed to let him pick you up in search of the perfect outfit to wear.

This wasn’t a date, which you’d made as clear to him as you possibly could. You didn’t want to wear anything too romantic or revealing and risk giving him the wrong idea, but you didn’t want to go too casual and make him think you weren’t into spending time with him either. Eventually you decided on a simple but effortlessly sexy sweater, skirt and heels, wearing your hair down in loose waves and brushing on some lip gloss and mascara, making sure you looked as good as possible.

Almost immediately after you heard his knock on your door, internally shaking your head at his theatrics. You’d insisted that he call or text when he arrived and you’d walk out and meet him, none of this pick you up at the door first date nonsense, though you couldn’t deny that it was charming. It had been a very long time since you’d felt this giggly over a man. You pulled the door open, letting him wrap his arms around you and pull you in for a quick embrace that set your heart aflutter.

“Alright Romeo, what are the plans for the evening?” You teased as you unwrapped yourself from him.

“Ah ah, not so fast. I promised you an evening of mystery and I plan to deliver.” He quipped while you grabbed your purse and locked up your house.

Jake, in true Jake fashion, had been a perfect gentleman- he’d opened and shut the car door for you, let you pick the music, and kept his hand in its respectful place resting on your knee. You’d come to notice that he was somewhat touchy, never in a creepy way, just part of his warmth and charm that was getting harder and harder to resist.

Finally, Jake pulled his car into a rather quiet looking parking lot, very few cars parked outside and somewhat dim lighting inside. “Jake, did you lure me here to murder me?” You joked, giggling at yourself.

“You wound me. I’d never murder you without at least buying you dinner first.” He teased, leading you inside with one hand gently resting on the middle of your back. The exterior of the place didn’t at all prepare you for the inside- the dim lighting and low music provided a very calming atmosphere, and you were some of the only diners in the place. You were led to a nice table towards the back and each put in a drink order.

“My brothers and I like to come here after a long day, have a couple drinks and debrief over dinner. It’s quiet, not too many people know about it, kind of our secret place. Really good food too.” Jake informed you, taking a sip of the water that had been placed in front of you both while you waited on your drinks.

“I bet you bring all the girls here, rockstar.” He snorted at your comment, rolling his eyes at you.

“Nah, just the ones I really wanna impress.” He said with a big grin, making you roll your eyes this time. When the server returned with your drinks, you both placed your dinner orders and then you asked Jake to tell you more about his work and his family. Truly you just loved hearing him talk, his voice like velvet in your ears.

A couple drinks deep before your dinner arrived, you both ate your meals and continued to talk and laugh and drink long after the plates were cleared. Jake still seemed mostly sober but you were feeling a little tipsy at that point, and more than a little flirty as your inhibitions faded away. Jake’s cheeks were flushed pink, a little from the liquor, mostly from your flirty comments and intoxicating laughter.

After Jake paid the bill, he led you back out to the car with his hand placed low on your back, brushing his hand across your cheekbone before shutting the car door behind you and making his way into his own seat. As soon as he was buckled in you leaned your head over on his shoulder and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for tonight, Jake. I had honestly forgotten what it felt like to laugh like that. I had a really great time.” You said softly, leaning back up on your side of the car. He gently squeezed your thigh just above your knee and then pulled your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it sweetly. “I had a great time too, y/n. Thank you for letting me take you out.” He placed his hand back on your thigh and continued driving in a comfortable quiet, only the music playing softly.

You tried to behave, really you did. But Jake was right there, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body and he smelled so good. Slowly you took one hand from out of your lap and ran it through his hair, gently tugging at the back of his head, making him gasp. Your other hand made its way to his chest, resting on his bare skin where his shirt was unbuttoned. Slowly you glided your hand along his chest and stomach, familiarizing yourself with the feeling of his skin.

“Hmm, feels nice.” He hummed. The hand in his hair moved down to grip his thigh, digging your nails in lightly, making him hiss a surprised breath. “Honey, at least let me get you home before you take advantage of me.” He teased, a pout playing at his lips as you removed your hand from his thigh, and turned into a surprised moan when you cupped his hardening length over his pants. “What’s gotten into you, dirty little thing?” His gaze connected with yours, his eyes gone dark with lust. You tightened your hand around him a little further, leaning in to lick a fat stripe up his neck. “You can’t fuck me, Jakey. But me? I can certainly fuck you.” You whispered in his ear, raising goosebumps on his flesh. You pulled away from him as he pulled the car in your driveway, putting it in park with a slightly shaky hand. He’d never admit it but you had an effect on him like no one else, you made him nervous and he hadn’t been nervous around girls since he was a teenager.

You led Jake inside by the hand, kicking off your heels by the door, stumbling slightly in your tipsy state. He caught you with his hands on your waist, pulling you in to his embrace. “You’re not calling the shots here, Jakey. Follow me.” You demanded, pulling free of his grasp and leading the way to your bedroom, not bothering to check if Jake was following behind.

Once in your bedroom, you pushed him down on the bed and instructed him to get comfy. You shimmied your panties down your legs and stepped out of them, holding them out in front of Jake like an offering. “Hands.” You commanded. He offered them up, allowing you to tie his wrists together over his head using your panties to bind them. “If you’re a good boy, maybe you can keep those.” You whispered in his ear, making him let out a breathy moan.

“I-I’ve never-“ he stammered out. “I know, you’re usually the one in charge, huh baby?” You coo, making him nod slowly. “I do things a little differently, are you okay with me taking control? You can say ‘red’ at any time and everything will stop. Does this sound like something you can handle?” He nods with wide doe eyes, watching you pull your sweater off over your head and unzip your skirt, letting it pool at your feet before stepping out.

“Okay, good boy, baby.” You don’t miss the way his eyes roll back at your praise. “I’m gonna ride your face now, okay Jakey? Since you won’t be able to speak, tap me three times with your foot and everything will stop. If you can make me cum all over your face and clean up your mess I’ll let you cum. Good boys get rewarded. Bad boys get left hard and aching with no relief in sight.”

He nods again. “I need to hear you, baby. Tell me you understand.” You say firmly, tilting his chin to look you in the eyes.

“I understand, mama. You’re gonna ride my face, fuck I want you to.” He whines.

“What are the rules, sweet boy?” You coo, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Tap you three times with my foot if I wanna stop, a-and if I’m good and drink you down like I’ve been dreaming of doing all night then I’ll get to cum.”

“Good boy.” You climb your way up to straddle his face, exhaling a shaky breath as you feel his warm breath hitting your drenched center. “Stick your tongue out for me, baby.” You demand, he obeys instantly. You lower yourself to his waiting tongue, whining at the first stroke of his tongue through your soaked folds. He moans at your taste, tugging at his wrists to try and pull you closer, forgetting they’re restrained. “Such a good boy for me, Jakey. Letting me use your mouth like this, so dirty.” You moan, starting to find a rhythm with your hips. He sucks your clit into his mouth, alternating between gentle suction and sharp flicks of his tongue over the bud. You let out a high pitched whine, tangling your hands in his hair and speeding up your movements on his face.

“You’re doing so good, baby. Your mouth is like heaven. Do you like eating pussy, Jakey?” He lets out a whimper at your question, nodding as best he can with his face buried in you. You raise your hips for a moment to let him speak. “I fucking love it, I fucking love your pussy mama. Tastes so sweet, I want it every day.” You look down at his fucked out face and feel your legs start to shake. You lower yourself back down to his mouth, frantically chasing the high you can feel within reach now. He speeds up the movement of his tongue, freely moaning into your pussy, making your eyes squeeze shut.

“Come on Jakey, be a good boy and make me cum all over your pretty face. I’m so close, fuck.” You whimper out and he starts shaking his head side to side, devouring you like he’s starving, finally sending you over the edge. You ride it out as long as you can, moaning his name and mumbling nonsensical praises as you come down. You feel him slurp and lap at you, cleaning away the evidence of your orgasm, making you cry out from slight overstimulation, so you finally move back down to straddle his lap instead.

“You were such a good boy Jakey, you did so well. Did you like that?” You asked with a grin, still slightly breathless.

“I fucking loved it, mama, please I need more.” He whines.

“I told you good boys get rewarded, baby. Tell me, has anyone ever played with your pretty ass?” You tease, finally undoing his pants and tugging them down his thighs, leaving him straining against the fabric of his black boxer briefs.

“No- well, one time I put a finger- uh, yeah.” He finishes, cheeks flaming red. You brush your knuckles over his cheek, “no shame, sweet boy. I appreciate your honesty. It’s rather hot, actually, picturing you stroking your pretty cock with your finger in your ass. Did you like having your fingers where they don’t belong?” You start teasing your fingers over his throbbing length through the fabric of his boxers, making him whimper out, “Y-yes, fuck. I came so fucking hard, it was everywhere.”

You bite back the whimper that wants to escape you at his admission, choosing instead to lean down and crash your lips together. He moans into your mouth as your tongue meets his own and subtly shifts his hips, subconsciously searching for friction. You finally take pity on him and tug his boxers down, making him hiss as the cool air meets his heated skin. You finally wrap your hand around him, giving him a few soft strokes while you plant kisses all over his neck and chest.

Before long he’s whining for more, and you press soft open mouth kisses all down his chest and stomach before finally arriving between his thighs. You nipped at the inside of his thigh before soothing over it with your tongue, making him hum in pleasure. “Just gonna use my mouth on you for right now, okay baby?” You punctuate the sentence with a soft kiss to the tip of him. He nods frantically, desperate for whatever attention you were willing to pay him. “You’re so hard Jakey, look at you just leaking all over the place. Beautiful, filthy boy.” You’re rewarded by watching his cock twitch.

You start out flicking your tongue along the length of him, then suck just the tip between your lips, starting to slowly bob your head on him. “Ohhhhh, fuck your mouth feels good, thank you mama, thank you.” He moans loudly, brows pinching together in concentration. You moan softly around his length at his praise, feeling a strange sense of pride as you had never told him to thank you for making him feel good.

You pull your mouth off his cock with a soft pop, making him whine until you replace your mouth with your hand, giving him slow but firm strokes as you sink down to tease your tongue over his balls, sucking them into your warm mouth for a split second before ducking back down to lick a stripe from his balls to his entrance, drawing a loud gasp from him. “You remember what to say if it’s too much, sweet boy?”

“Red, and everything stops. I remember. Please, my cock is so hard mama, it’s aching for you.” He lets a slight whine seep into his tone, desperate for relief at this point. You giggle at that, making him eat his words by repeatedly lapping your tongue over him, then sticking just the tip of your tongue past his rim and wriggling it in and out of his entrance as he pants and whines for more. You continue to stroke your hand over his length while your tongue works him into a quivering mess beneath you.

Finally, you rise from the bed and rummage through your dresser drawers until you find the small bottle of lube you keep hidden there in case of emergencies. You strut back over to him, enjoying watching this beautiful creature writhing on the bed for you. You coat two fingers in the slick substance, straddling his calf so he can’t close his legs on you. You wrap your fist back around his cock, gently stroking him as you ghost your fingertips over his entrance. You gently massage over his rim before dipping just the tip of the finger inside him. He lets out a shaky exhale as you slowly push in to the knuckle.

“You doing okay, sweet boy?” You coo, continuing to work your hand on his cock as you slowly pump your finger in and out of him.

“More.” He whimpers and you feel his cock throb in your hand. Taking pity on him, you remove your finger from him to replace it with two, slowly pressing in the same way you did with the first. He’s sweating and panting and writhing on the bed, fists clenching and unclenching where your panties are still holding his wrists tight. Once he’s adjusted to the stretch, you slowly start curling your fingers up inside of him as you pump in and out, searching for the spot that’ll make him a babbling mess.

You know you’ve found it when a high pitched whine escapes his lips and his back arches off the bed. You make sure to hit that spot on every stroke and then sink your mouth all the way down on his leaking cock in one go.

“Fuck, fuck, right fucking there, oh my god!” He shouts, back arching further off the mattress as pitiful groans start escaping him with every movement you make. You hollow out your cheeks, bobbing your head on him in rhythm with your fingers working him.

“I’m s-so close, fuck. I’m gonna fucking cum, oh god please can I cum? P-please, can’t hold it, I wanna give it all to you, fucking PLEASE!” He almost screams.

You pull off him long enough to say, “C’mon Jakey, cum for me baby. You’ve been such a good boy for me, give it to me, I want it” before sinking back down, taking him to the back of your throat and swallowing around his length while you speed up your fingers just slightly. You feel him harden even more in your mouth before he twitches and throbs, screaming out when he finally lets go and you feel him spurting down your throat. You swallow him down greedily before gently licking him clean.

“I’m gonna pull my fingers out now, okay baby?” You whisper, brushing your lips against his skin anywhere you can reach. He just nods, too fucked out to come up with words. Slowly you pull out of him making him hiss, then you untie his wrists, gently kissing each one before placing the wadded up panties in his palm. “I believe these were promised to you.” You mumble against his lips, giggling at his blissed out expression.

“I shall treasure them always, m’lady.” He laughs, still trying to catch his breath. Against your better judgment, you ask him to stay and have to fight the urge to twirl your hair and kick your feet when he agrees.

“I’m gonna run you a bath Jake, you want bubbles? Candles? Music?”

“Well shit, if I knew I’d get the princess treatment I might’ve put out.”

Tags: @jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka @gracev0609

[fefe658]

Refurbishment [ 2 ]

Part 2 of my birthday gift for @chaosduckies, all characters belong to her.

Previous - Next

CW: Mentions of gore, death and more silly things

As the gentle rays of the sun illuminated his little nest, Nathan awoke to the sound of... talking?

Nathan rubbed his eyes, trying to make out what the mysterious voices were saying. He swam up to the entrance of his little cave, just enough to look outside and see-

The giant mer.

Nathan's eyes widened in terror and he immediately shot back under the cover of his cave.

It's back, it's back and it's not alone. Of course it's back why did I stay here instead of escaping? Now I'm gonna die here like-

Nathan tried to get his breathing under control. If he managed to hide from the creature last time, he can wait it out once more and then get the hell out of there.

Since the mer's voice seemed to come from far away, Nathan decided to cautiously look at it to get more information. But as he peered outside expecting to see a group of giant mers, he was confused at what he saw.

The giant mer wasn't talking to anybody. There weren't any other large creatures swimming with it (thankfully). So what was it doing? Was it just talking to itself?

"Weird..."

Before Nathan could realise he had said that aloud, the larger mer's head snapped towards him. Nathan's heart started beating faster than before as he quickly dove for cover.

If- If the giant had heard him, oh god... I just called it weird- I just insulted it behind its back! It's gonna come here and tear away my cover and- and-

Nathan started hyperventilating, waiting for giant hands to rip him away from his hiding spot and tear into his body, crush him betweeen those teeth and-

The larger mer turned away, and started talking again.

Oh.

So it didn't see me. Good. Why did it turn towards me then? Did the giant think they imagined it? Is this just a sick joke? Is it gonna turn around and laugh at me for letting my guard down and-

The larger mer stopped talking. Instead, it put something on the ground and swam away.

Nathan tried to catch his breath for a moment. Was that fish? The giant seemed to have put fish on the ground. His stomach grumbled. This is a trap. This clearly, oh so obviously a trap. The mer put that fish down to make him come out and-

Nathan started fuming. He was way too smart to fall for that. He wasn't just a mindless fish, he wasn't prey. He was so smart in fact, that he could beat the giant at its own game. He'd grab the food and leave this place, making sure to never come back.

Halfway trough his flawless plan, he started to realise just how not-so-smart he was acting. He was swimming right into the mer's trap, and his mind was screaming at him to go back to the safety of his cave.

It's a trap, it's gonna come here while you're eating and it won't even bother to distinguish you from the rest of the fish-

But I'm so hungry.

Nathan's judgement was starting to get overrun by his need for food. He hadn't eaten in who knows how long. He still hasn't seen any live fish in this forsaken reef (maybe because there's a giant mer cleaning out this entire territory you idiot-) and the fish that was oh-so-generously left here looked so delicious-

The mer wouldn't mind if he ate some of it. Would it even notice? He's more than sure the giant could just tear open his hiding spot if it knew there was a tasty little mer inside (don't think about that right now-), so why would the larger mer go tough the hustle of making a trap to lure him out of hiding? It probably doesn't even know he exists (then why could it smell you) so it put that fish down to eat it later (then why did it hear you) he's sure everything's gonna be fine (he's going to die here-)

As he finally reached the food, a dozen of fish neatly lying on a bed of seagrass, Nathan fully expected for something to jump out and kill him. But nothing happened.

Hesitantly, he reached for the fish (could it be poisoned? Why would it poison the fish to catch me if it could just eat the fish? Does it just prefer to eat creatures that can plead for mercy as they're torn to shreds-)

Nathan's stomach let out a growl. It was either certain death by starvation or death by dubiously poisoned fish. As he took a bite, he let out a sigh of relief.

This is the best thing I've tasted in a long, long time.

Granted, he's spent the last days.. weeks? Looking around for a place to call home so he didn't really have time to find food apart from the easily available redfish or flounder (those always tasted awful-)

Nathan was lost in his thoughts when he was caught by surprise by an unfamiliar voice.

"What are you doing here?"

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

Oooooohhh Nathan has been founddd! But by who you may wonderrr??

Anyway I'll eventually explain what exactly happened to Nathan's parents, I'm just joking about something from the original restoration series from the original author (which y'all should check out btw)

WHAT HAPPENED TO RYKER'S PARENTS, MR. DUCKIES?/lh

[gendrie]

“Accordingly, I have decided to defer our repayment of the sums owed the Holy Faith and the Iron Bank of Braavos until war's end."

"Your Grace," Pycelle said in a quavering voice, "this will cause more trouble than you know, I fear. The Iron Bank . . ." ". . . remains on Braavos, far across the sea. They shall have their gold, maester. A Lannister pays his debts."  "The Braavosi have a saying too." Pycelle's jeweled chain clinked softly. "The Iron Bank will have its due, they say." "The Iron Bank will have its due when I say they will. Until such time, the Iron Bank will wait respectfully. (Cersei, AFFC)

as regent to tommen, cersei decides to defer on the iron thrones loan to the iron bank. the iron throne itself has no money (thanks bobby b!) the only person to caution her against this is pycelle but she does not listen. she figures theres a sea between her and the bank and they cannot hurt her. she sasses the iron bank’s representative noho dimittis and makes it clear the iron throne has no intention of paying off their debt anytime soon. 

"I put no faith in these Myrish bankers," Ser Kevan told his good-father. "You had best prepare to go to Braavos." Ser Harys did not look happy at the prospect. "If I must. But I say again, this trouble is not of my doing." "No. It was Cersei who decided that the Iron Bank would wait for their due. Should I send her to Braavos?" (Epilogue, ADWD) 

after kevan assumes the regency he sends harys swyft to braavos to treat with the iron bank in person in an effort to smooth over what cersei has done. they cannot raise taxes out of fear of rebellion and are reluctant to pay off the debt with lannister gold. 

"I thought the crossbow fitting. You shared so much with Lord Tywin, why not that? Your niece will think the Tyrells had you murdered, mayhaps with the connivance of the Imp. The Tyrells will suspect her. Someone somewhere will find a way to blame the Dornishmen. Doubt, division, and mistrust will eat the very ground beneath your boy king, whilst Aegon raises his banner above Storm's End and the lords of the realm gather round him." (Epilogue, ADWD)

before kevan can do much else varys kills him to further undermine the lannisters. he wants cersei to destroy herself to clear the way for “aegon”. nobody will suspect varys of the murder instead they will all point fingers at each other further destabilizing the realm. varys works with illyrio to install a blackfyre on the iron throne. varys’ background is mysterious but he did, allegedly, apprentice with a mummer’s troupe as a child. 

Shivering, she sat up in bed and ran a hand across her scalp. Stubble bristled against her palm. I need to shave before Izembaro sees. Mercy, I’m Mercy, and tonight I’ll be raped and murdered.

This would make trouble for the Sealord and the envoy with the chicken on his chest, she did not doubt. She would think about that later, though. (Arya, TWOW) 

once the lannister party arrive in braavos they are intercepted by arya stark, apprenticing with a troupe of mummers, who lures one of the guards away and kills him. it seems she had a mission to “murder” mercy and frame the westerosi visitors for the crime. this is what the faceless men instructed her to do - on the iron bank’s behalf. this frame up will be used to deny the lannisters. the iron bank is now actively plotting against them in the fight for the iron throne. they have no intention of relenting. 

Tycho Nestoris had impressed him as cultured and courteous, but the Iron Bank of Braavos had a fearsome reputation when collecting debts. [...] When princes failed to repay the Iron Bank, new princes sprang up from nowhere and took their thrones. (Jon, ADWD) 

the iron bank did, however, loan money to lord commander of the night’s watch jon snow to help buy supplies and food. jon references the very plot that his little sister is directly involved in with the bank and the throne.

"The Iron Bank has opened its coffers to me. You will collect their coin and hire ships and sellswords. A company of good repute, if you can find one. The Golden Company would be my first choice, if they are not already under contract. Seek for them in the Disputed Lands, if need be. But first hire as many swords as you can find in Braavos, and send them to me by way of Eastwatch. Archers as well, we need more bows." 

"Oh, and take the Stark girl with you. Deliver her to Lord Commander Snow on your way to Eastwatch." Stannis tapped the parchment that lay before him. "A true king pays his debts." (Theon, TWOW) 

but the big agreement is with stannis baratheon. he got a loan from the iron bank so it would seem stannis is their new pick to take the iron throne. stannis has sent justin massey to collect the gold from braavos and hire sellswords (but not the GC bc they’ve already joined “aegon”)......after he drops off jeyne p. who is posing as “arya stark” at the wall. which, of course, will not be a safe place to leave her bc jon is dead so jeyne will travel to braavos

[pb-dot]

Word Find Tag

@dyrewrites tagged me to particpate in one of these. I haven't done this in forever, but His Impossible Brushstrokes should be a good hunting ground, as it is mostly done.

The words I'm looking for is: tight, blur, trap and sweet

I tag @owlsandwich @caffeineaddict980 @bard-coded and @amandacanwrite

Who'll be looking for point, rich, stage, and strange

Words and snippets below the cut:

Tight

In the kitchen, a wide open space outfitted with the fanciest kitchenware money could buy, Tomasz was preparing something fragrant and, presumably, delicious. The smell of what I came to understand to be some sort of tomato-based sauce made the hunger I had apparently been hiding storm out in the open, but that was secondary in my mind to the sight of Tomasz working on the food. In the lack of a better word, he seemed to have reached a higher plane of awareness. His eyes were open and alert, but there was a focus on the task that made me wonder if he had even heard me come in. The gas fire flickered, the sauce puttered, some sort of meat sizzled on a pan, and a pot of what I assumed was pasta boiled with quiet intensity. There was a poetry to the whole scene I realized, but it was not inherent. This was all Tomasz, it was his will that shaped this beautiful moment, perhaps in the same way his will shaped the art that had grasped my mind tight when I was a young man and just never let go.

The burners of the gas stove clicked off, dispelling the mesmer like a hypnotist snapping his fingers. Tomasz started plating up, his concentration was still intense as he arranged pasta, meat, and sauce on two plates, finishing the presentation with a single leaf of some herb, I assume fresh basil. Once the food was ready, Tomasz himself appeared to come back to my plane of reality.

Blur

Charles coughs, at first once, then two or three more times, I can see there’s blood in his spittle. It’s at this point I’m becoming aware I haven’t blinked for what feels like minutes.

“So I just start trying to rip the thing apart with my teeth,” Charles sounds almost resigned. “It hurts almost right away, but I can’t stop, and I keep trying and trying and at one point a tooth shatters against the wood and I keep going until a couple more break and the sharp shards of the thing still attached to my roots starts scraping against the wood and I just don’t get anywhere. I think the security guys get to me before I pass out from the pain, but it’s all… a bit blurry I suppose.”

I nod, gravely. I want to throw up, but I have to keep up the facade. “I understand,” I say, it’s just about all I can manage. I take a minute to silently choke down the bile in my throat. “And did you succeed in damaging the painting?”

“A bit I guess,” Charles shrugged. “From what I could see, the worst of it was actually from when I snagged it off the hook, a bit near the lower right corner got ripped on the canvas. It didn’t really change much?”

Trap

I wasn’t afraid of elevators, I told myself. I had no reason to be afraid of elevators and I certainly wasn’t going to have a panic attack on account of my journey in the vertical aluminum coffin, even if I did feel a slight coating of sweat on my forehead from the experience.

There was also the question of what would await me at the top, of course. If I were to design a trap to ensnare myself, I probably would make something like this. A mysterious, un-googleable club or society dedicated to the thing I am most passionate about, plant the idea and an invitation with a known collaborator of mine, and then make sure it happened in the most isolated place you could conceivably lure me to. A penthouse law office at night would be a pretty good place for this sort of thing. There were some points I’d improve, perhaps getting Mara to actually urge me to go would have me arrive more at ease and thus easier to jump, or maybe psyching me out was part of the plan.

Sweet

Oscar, I know you’re probably excitedly kicking your legs in the air and scribbling Gildebrant’s name in your trapper keeper or whatever it is you do all day, but please listen to me when I say this. The next text promised yet another link in the chain, so I waited while Mara crafted whatever devastating missive she was going to deliver next. I know you’re excited to go meet Gildebrant, but please don’t go all doe-eyed on the guy. This isn’t really my speed normally, but if I’m honest, I have a bad feeling about this whole setup. I don’t know if there’s actually anything to this whole Gildebrant Psychosis thing, and I don’t know if the man himself has anything to do with the thing if it’s actually real… but please be safe. The world’s a stupid place, but it’s just a tiny bit better of a place with you in it.

This was an unexpected track from Mara. She wasn’t what I’d call emotionally open under anything resembling normal circumstances, and while these definitely weren’t normal circumstances, it still felt weird. I let the whole message hang between us for a little while before I replied. Aww Mars, that’s sweet of you to say.

Fuck you, MN boy. Why don’t you clean your ass with that disgusting potato liquor you love so much!

[a-trying-writer]

[[ house hunted fic - cat’s self indulgence. (okay to reblog this tho i may revise/fix it before posting on ao3. also okay to like. commenting is also nice if no one wants to reblog it. im just having fun here and i like hearing others thoughts on it~! it helps me get an understanding of my own story from others’ perspectives. anyway take it easy!) ]]

Today was my day off, so I decided to pay a visit to a coffee shop that I always wanted to try. The air was filed with this delicious smell of baked bread and cookies, coffee beans being heated in warm water, and best of all, the delicious ice cream that they have on display.

Why not splurge and enjoy myself today? I feel like I deserve it.

As I approached the counter, ready to give my order, Maison appeared behind me and added some more meals to the list, which didn’t bother me, but definitely had me confused. “I thought you were busy looking for buyer,” I asked.

“It’s a slow day, Ms. Cat, so I’ll need to indulge myself into something different to help ease the stress I’m dealing with. You were here for the same reason, right?”

I couldn’t help but give a brief chuckle with a shake of my head. “Not exactly, no. I only wanted to enjoy myself in this comfy coffee shop. But, it’s good to have you here with me, Maison. I like having you around.”

The baffled look on his face made me chuckle again, before I finally placed down my order with Maison’s, then took the receipt and sat down on a nearby table with him. “I assume you didn’t have much luck finding a buyer?” I asked.

“Unfortunately not,” he answer as he sat down on the table with me. “Too many other REALTORs had already snatched up enough to cause another scare in the valley, so that means that people will be more wary about us.”

“Which in turn means you won’t find the ones that increase your ratings, so to speak. You are definitely a picky eater, Maison, but I can understand why. You prefer the finest game that can satiate you for a while, because you are different from certain other REALTORs.”

Maison perked a brow as he leaned against the chair. “You have met other REALTORs,” he said matter of factly.

“Yes, I have. Can’t avoid them like those pesky hairy creatures around the city. They aren’t all bad, the REALTORs, but I can tell that some were barely holding themselves together while around me. I swear they were practically salivating at the idea of me being their meal.” I sighed as I crossed one leg over the other as I pushed my bangs away from my eyes. “But I know I will be fine, as long as I got you around to keep watch over my heart.”

“You know I can’t promise that you will be that safe inside me, Ms. Cat.”

“But you have been doing a good job, Maison.” I gave him a smile and a wink. “You really helped me get a better understanding of the people in Uncanny Valley, which I appreciate a lot. Your title of being The #1 REALTOR in all of the Uncanny Valley may only apply to you and your views of what you are, but I have to say, you almost deserve it, for being more considerate than other REALTORs that I’ve met.”

I wasn’t sure if the smile he held was of pride, or if he was genuinely confused by my compliments, but that soon disappeared when we were called to pick up the meals. I decided to pick up the tray and bring it back on the table, and immediately tore up the wrapping around the paper straw to plug it into the cover of the frappe.

I nearly moaned from the delicious flavor of caramel, chocolate, coffee, and some other mystery ingredient they tossed in there. It tasted like cinnamon, but there was this after taste of something indescribably, yet sweet, that satisfied my cravings for sugar.

Maison, on the other hand, didn’t touch his food, yet, which is natural, given that his lure is just that, a lure, and not his actual body. But either way, I like having him around.

“Thanks, Maison,” I said, before taking a bit out of the chocolate chip cookie. “For hanging around with me, even though I already bought you your meal.”

“It’s certainly quite all right, Ms. Cat. I enjoy your company around parts of this side of the valley. It’s... refreshing, to put it one way.”

“Oh? Is that a good thing, then?”

“Why wouldn’t it be? Changes are inevitable, and for better or for worse, we have to adapt, or else, we will stagnant. But, that’s a topic for another day.”

“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“It’s quite all right, I promise, Ms. Cat.”

“All right...” As I took a sip of the frappe, a thought occurred to me. “You know, Maison, you don’t have to keep using ‘Ms.’ with me. Just call me Cat.”

“Does ‘Ms.’ make you uncomfortable?”

“No, but... it feels too formal, you know? I mean, I keep calling you Maison, because that’s your name, and I don’t see you as anyone less or more than that, despite being a man-eating house.”

Maison was silent, studying my face for a moment, before he then cleared his throat, and straightened out his blood red blazer with an easy smile on his face. “If that’s what you prefer, then I will simply call you Cat from now on.”

I giggled sheepishly while stirring the frappe with the paper straw. I’m not sure how to describe it, but there was this strange feeling in my belly that was similar to it being tickled. Is this what they mean by “butterflies in your stomach”? Weird.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“No, no, nothing like that. I... well... I liked how you called me that. It makes me feel... happy. It’s dumb. A-anyway, if you don’t have anything else to do today, maybe we can go to the nearest park and take a walk? I feel I’ll need that after indulging myself today like this.”

“Sure, I’d be glad to keep you company.”

“Good... That... makes me very happy.” And a little embarrassed, but honestly, I think it will be nice to spend time with Maison.

[sleepystarnights]

Chapter 1, Part 2

"WHOA!"

Sleepy said as she jumped out of her bench. The dream she was in last night felt like it was real.

"Is it the afternoon already? Well fuck, I better go to the mall before its lunch time for everyone."

As she walked through the streets of Breezenico, there's a hint of fear once she thought that the dream is a warning.

She arrived to the front entrance of the mall. It's name is Sunny Days Mall. Cute name for a mall.

The paintjob is proper and bright and the whole structure feels inviting to people.

"Huh, this place reminds me of Starmistia's Shopping Center. A good and a bad thing."

Sleepy went inside the mall and saw many colorful shops and stalls.

"This mall is so colorful, maybe that's the charm." Sleepy said in awe. "Nows not the time for wandering around, I have to eat some food."

She looked at the map of the mall thats on the center of the place and went straight to the east for the foodcourt.

The foodcourt has a lot of stalls. People are packed in many of them and it's very busy on the tables.

"I'm late, I have to go and find some cheap ones quickly!"

Sleepy jogged to each stall until she encountered a mysterious girl with a brown hat and coat waving at her.

"Hello! You must be new in Breezenico. I'm Sally~" The girl said in a friendly tone. "I'm a food critic from QuickTime! Newcomers of Breezenico get food of your choice paid by me!"

At first, Sleepy didn't believe at what they said. She looked through her phone for the food critic for verification.

After some time, she accepted their request and proceed to look for a place to eat.

They found a bakery with a few customers. It has a sale sign on it and welcoming doors.

"Let's eat here!" Sleepy said "Baked goods are enough."

"Alright then!" Sally agreed.

As they went in to the bakery, a cute frilly theme is all around the place. It feels cute but also regal.

The scent of bread lures them to buy many of their goods. There's one bread in particular Sleepy is most interested in.

"Cranberry bread?!" She screamed. "I want 8 of these!! 4 for me and 4 for this person please!"

"Okay okay!"

Waiting time was fast as there's no customers as of now. Sleepy was sitting on the opposite side, admiring the taste of cranberry bread.

Sally however, picked up a paper bag from the cashier and packed up the remaining cranberry bread. They ran away and never came back.

After the cranberry lover ate all of her bread, she sit at the proper side and looked confused.

"Where's Sally?" She said in confusion. "Did she went to the bathroom... or..."

A waiter arrived at her table and gave her the bill. It was 50 dollars for everything.

"What do I do, I have no money and that food critic left me to the dust." She said in her mind

"This is a sticky situation, let us help you!"

"Wait what, you again but you sound clearer than be-"

"Miss, please pay the am-"

"What are you looking at?" The waiter said in shock.

"Huh, nothing?" Sleepy said.

Her phone was beeping loudly which interrupted the conversation. She checked her phone and received a lot of cash from a mysterious donor on her digital banking app called CashTake.

"Who donated this much money, I haven't even talked to people about my CashTake acc when I was in the stars." She said in her head.

CashTake is the biggest digital banking app for both Sparklers and humans. Donors can always give money to someone with Rubies (Sparkler currency) or dollars.

"Do you... guys accept CashTake?" Sleepy said, fear lingering around her body.

"Yes miss." The waiter politely said, grabbing a qr code sign to scan. "Please scan this and pay."

"Thank you."

★★★♥︎★★★

It was a crazy day for the ex-goddess. A poser making her get into trouble, the whisper getting clearer, and lastly the mysterious donor.

"For a second there, I felt a surge of power inside of me." She said, questioning what happened today.

"Nevermind that, must have been goosebumps."

[leopardmask-ao3]

NHH 2022 Day 21: Bee Balloon Bumbles Blissfully By, Bolstering Boons Beyond Belief

Link to the challenge Today’s Word is: Balloon Characters: Scar, Cub Season: HC7 Other tags/warnings: Hermitcraft Big Bee Swarm and the Infinibee Word Count: 781

Summary: The Infinibee is coming! Praise bee! But... where did the Infinibee come from?

Read it on ao3 or

Sparkles drifted from Scar’s sleeves as he slipped quickly out of the main Nether portal into the shopping district. He looked at his hands and dusted them off, but they still shone with magic. Shrugging, he stuck his hands in his pockets and headed for Doc’s food shop. He and Stress had been working on magic all morning to really make their part of the jungle stand out, and now he was ravenous!

On the way there, he passed Doc's old Mending Machine. It didn't get much use anymore, with Keralis' bookstore taking over most of the business... 

One of the "beeloons", the bees kept on leads for advertising, drifted toward Scar. "Aww, poor little guy," Scar cooed. He ruffled his fingers through the bee's fuzz. "I wonder if I should free you... I don't think Doc would be happy about that. I'll at least get you some flowers, okay? Once I get some food for myself first!"

Scar straightened up and continued on to the food shop nearby, completely ignorant of the small flecks of glitter still clinging to the bee.

-

Cub looked up from checking his Origin shop. What was that yellow flash-?

Oh geez that bee had startled him. It looked like it was the size of a ravager! It was just...

Was it a trick of perspective, though? Cub sidled around to look at the bee from a different angle.

It took off from where it had been sitting next to Cub's flowers, with a very loud and very low buzz. That... yep, that was a very big bee.

Cub glanced over at the mysterious tower nearby, the abbreviation that no one had figured out the meaning of yet. The BB in the middle... Big Bee? Hmm.

-

"So, yeah," Cub told Scar as the two of them landed on the Nether side of the shopping district portal. "It's this whole thing, I've got a speech prepared and everything-"

The portal spat them into the Overworld, where they found the exit unexpectedly blocked by a huge, curved wall of yellow and black. The thumping sound of very large wings flapping buffeted the ground.

"OH geez-" Scar yelped, stumbling backward and almost falling back through the portal. "Cub! What is that!?"

"That... would be the Infinibee," Cub mused, watching it fly away. "And it has indeed gotten even bigger."

-

"...We’ve brought this bunch of banners today in the belief we may yet bind and broaden the bridge between bees and builders. Praise bee."

"Praise bee," Cub's audience repeated.

As Cub stepped down from the raised lectern, Scar ran up to him. "Cub! Cub Cub Cub."

"Yeah?" Cub glanced around. The other hermits had dispersed; this conversation was as good as private.

"I-I kinda tuned out during your speech," Scar explained, "and I started thinking about the bee, right? When it flew right over us? And, Cub, I know where it came from."

"Wait, really?" Cub looked up at where the big bee, now larger than some of the shops around it, had alighted on the HCBBS tower. It flicked its wings, ignored the chorus plant Cub had grown for it, and instead tried unsuccessfully once again to get nectar from the rose bushes around Cub's shop without crushing them.

"I think..." Scar sighed. "I think I did that, Cub. I went shopping after I'd just used enlargening magic on some things around the village, and the bees at Doc's place were so cute, and the next thing I know there's a giant bee flying around! It's all my fault."

"Huh. Yeah, that tracks. But that means there's a limit on its size, right? Probably?"

"Cub. We have to get the giant hungry bee out of the shopping district!" Scar started pacing. "Maybe we could ask Stress if we could lure it to her base somehow? It would have all kinds of giant bug friends there, and she has the big flowers, too..."

Cub shook his head, still watching the giant bee bumble its way across the island. "Bees don't like water. I don't think there's a way to get it across the ocean."

"Well, we can't just leave it here!!"

"Why not?" Cub gestured at the bee as it bonked against the glass wall of the Barge and changed direction. "I don't think it can hurt much, except the local flower population. It might even like your greenhouse, Scar."

"Yeah... that was kind of what I'm afraid of."

"It's fine, Scar!" Cub encouraged. "The Infinibee won't hurt anyone after all, and it might even draw people in just to see it! This is just the way it is now, I think. The bee is part of the shopping experience!"

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Siren Masterlist

Caudal (ao3) - FoxyAtlas

Summary: The cave has two exits. One, a hole in the ceiling, wide enough that Phil could see the stars glitter at night. The other exit was through the pool in the middle of the cave, where they’d come from.

The siren leaned against the cave wall a few meters away, tending to his wound. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, but the damage was done. Sharks circled in the pool, desperate for a taste of the merman.

The hole in the ceiling was too high up, the walls too steep to climb. The sharks circled in the pool of water, ready to eat whatever comes their way. No way out. Phil was stuck, with no food, no fresh water, no hope to escape, and a siren who had tried to drown him not hours before.

(held him captive in my kiss) (ao3) -  bokeae

Summary: Dan’s a sadistic siren with fingers tinted blue and Phil’s a silent coward who fears bravery.

Midnight and Crimson (ao3) - 2amphan

Summary: Dan is a siren, a mythical creature who lures sailors to their deaths with his beautiful voice. Phil is a sailor who just so happens to fall into Dan's trap.

Play Upon Me Like This Piano (ao3) - Elleberquist6

Summary: In many ways, Phil's life is perfect: he loves his life in London, he has a wonderful brother and parents, and he has a great job as a radio DJ for BBC Radio One. There's only one thing missing in his life... A rumor reaches an executive at the BBC about a talented local piano player named Daniel. The executive decides that Daniel would be the perfect guest on Phil's radio show, so she sends Phil to speak with the evasive and mysterious piano player. When they finally meet, Phil starts to think that he has found the person who will make his life complete. Unfortunately, Dan has a secret that will make getting close to him difficult.

Siren Call (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Beware of the siren's call, they tell you.

Dan had heard enough horror stories about sirens to be thoroughly terrified. He never wanted to go near the water, but as fate would have it, Dan's father had to sign him up for on a merchant's ship bound for the siren's passage. Dan had a sinking feeling that he was not going to survive an encounter with one of the deadly predators. Those touched by the siren's kiss were bound to drown. Except... it doesn't go quite like that.

siren song (ao3) - lestered (clonetrobed)

Summary: He thinks of last night, teetering on the edge of the cliff, so happy with the idea of following Phil’s voice all the way down. That’d been a particularly close call, and he doesn’t even care. He just wants to hear the song again.

The Siren - auroraphilealis

Summary: Once, a long, long time ago, Phil had heard a story – a strange story, so fantastical he hadn’t known whether or not to laugh, eyes wide and terrified amidst it all, - about a mermaid, a siren, who supposedly stole away the sailors of the sea to the bottom of the ocean, never to be seen again.

The Sirens - walruslovechild

Summary - In a dying London, a dark creature rises from the shadows every night at curfew. Phil travels with a stranger when London falls to chaos. Dystopian AU

we'll spend some time, forever (ao3) - sierraadeux

Summary: Dangerous, the primal part of his brain supplied. He’d been selective about ignoring it lately, and maybe if he would take two seconds to fill his mind with anything but the beautiful creature, he would realize just how much he was starting to integrate. Bad.

But he was so, so good. So pretty. or Two sets of legs, two tails, one human.

[dionaeafl]

千と千尋の神隠し

Spirited Away is easily Hayao Miyazaki's most praised and well known work, especially in North America. My cousin is a few years older than me, and was totally obsessed with Studio Ghibli films back when we were kids. She had all of them on VHS and DVD back in 2006 and we watched them in order of release. We started with Castle in the Sky, which utterly enchanted me. Then we watched Naussicaa of the Valley of the Wind, which is still Miyazaki's magnum opus par excellence in my opinion. After that we got to Princess Mononoke, which is second only to Naussicaa in my eyes. Finally, we got to Spirited Away, and I got so scared by No Face that I had to stop watching. Why No Face scared me more than anything I'd seen in the other Ghibli films we'd watched, I have no idea, the mind of a child is an oft inexplicable place. Some fascinating background about the film itself, it had a budget of about 19 million dollars, which is extremely high for anime production. John Lasseter of Pixar and Disney fame is actually close friends with Hayao Miyazaki and personally led the English localization efforts.

Coming back to the film itself, Spirited Away follows Chihiro and her parents as they're moving to a new neighborhood. The family discovers what seems to be some kind of abandoned amusement park, and Chihiro immediately gets nervous. Her father rushes towards a food stand with her mother close behind, and they start stuffing their faces into ramen bowls. Chihiro walks towards a bathhouse and meets a handsome young lad named Haku, who tells her to take her parents and leave immediately. Alas, her parents have already been pigified and they can no longer return.

The rest of the film follows the fish-out-of-water, Allice in Wonderland-type confusion and wonder of being thrust into another, mysterious world that works very differently from our own. Yubaba is able to take away Chihiro's memory by taking her name, specifically by erasing the second kanji in her name, reducing it just to 千, which means "1,000". Chihiro, now "Sen" has to go up top to work at the restaurant portion of the bathhouse. While working up there, a bizarre, silent spirit named No-Face comes in, and lures in another patron with gold coins and swallows him whole. He continues to demand more food and starts dumping loads of gold on the bathhouse workers.

Upon watching this movie again for the first time in a while, it got me thinking about the "Journey to a mysterious world" trope in media and how differently it's handled in this film. The Spirit World is dangerous, but it isn't Hell. There are good spirits, bad spirits, and what-the-hell-even-is-that spirits. Chihiro and her family are just passersby in this world, and though they aren't really treated well this time, who's to say that if they had landed in another part of the spirit world it couldn't have been better overall?

[maguro13-2]

Demons Unleashed ~ Origins of the Ink Demon Gaiden Finale (5/10)

[Crisis City (Classic Ver.) - Tomoya Ohtani]

*IFRIT ROARING*

Eggman Nega : Yes, Ifrit! Yes! Once I have enough more chao to feed, I will have enough more time to get rid of that pesky Robotnik that is always getting in the way! Huh? Where did the chao, who freed them all!? This can't be happening!

(we then show Silver and Espio freeing the chao)

Silver : When it comes to monsters, Gods, and machines, this is what I do religion and no, summoning the Ifrit is a Dark Fantasy thing.

Espio : Quite be to be having this weird friendship, it's not a gay lord thing, it's a friends thing, although you acted like a jerk back in the year 06 in terms of being called a douche.

Silver : Yeah, you're right. I had no chills and I was being savage towards sonic since 06 was retconned, I apologized for that matter. So now that we're freeing all of the chao to get secured by custody, who's going to look after them? Maybe security knows about that.

Espio : Who knows? It's good that we have someplaces needed to be.

Eggman Nega : Who's down there!?

Silver : Yikes!

Espio : Damn we've been detected again! (talks into communicator) Hey, Vector. We finally managed to free all the Chao. Eggman Nega were using these lifeforms to lured to the Ifrit as food. It's no wonder that the villains of our world or universe had the nerves to be so-selfish and get away with everything that is homicide, genocide, or omnicide!

Silver : After 06 mysteries, I don't know how that's gonna work on us!

Vector : (via communicator) That's quite weird so why did a villain from another dimension wanted Eggman's world to be extinct in order to recreate Crisis City.

Espio : Because he's not from another dimension, he's from 200 years in the future of our world.

Vector : (via communicator) That explains how did Nega appeared during the Black Alien invasion since the Dreamcast Era ended over a year ago.

Silver : which is kind of messed up for a bunch of idiots who gave those Emeralds here in our world.

Espio : Don't mind that, stuff let's just get these Chao to safety and get the hell out of here. (tries to leave, but Metal Sonic 3.0 is in the way) Pardon me, sir. It seems that you are in the way.

Silver : Uhh, I think that's Metal Sonic 3.0.

Espio : [he and Silver Looks at each other] Uh-oh.

(Metal Sonic 3.0 chases the two while running around)

Silver & Espio : *SFX : Sonic EXE scream*

Eggman Nega : (chuckles) That'll keep them busy! Alright, on to summoning the Ifrit.

*FLAMES WHOOS+BOOM!*

Blaze : Eggman Nega! So this is what you're cooking! I should've known you were from 200 years in the future, am I not correct?

Eggman Nega : You pitfiful princess, I see that you dare stand in my way of getting what's rightfully mine.

Blaze : Oh no, you don't. Nobody's getting away with it, after our encountered since the Black Arms invasion, I despise of you making a mess between the two fights and then I had a fight over Sonic against you for stealing the Sol Emeralds. Two Eggmans, two worlds, one planet. I am desperate of saving my people from the clutches of you and 200 years in the future. I hope you are going down with the ship, Negative.

Eggman Nega : Oh, I wouldn't mind doing that. Whisker. Can you handle this one with a big knock out. This one has kept it's nine lives with.

Captain Whisker : Arrrgh! With pleasure, matey!

Blaze : Huh? Hey, what the-!? (Whiskers traps her in a sack as scene goes black)

*Waves crashing*

Blaze : (wakes up, groaning) Huh? Where the heck am I? What am I doing here? Hey, what is this place!?

Marine : Oi, Mate! You just made it!

Blaze : Huh? Marine!

"MARINE THE RACCOON : INHABITANT SOUTHERN ISLAND"

Blaze : Marine! What are you doing here!?

Marine : I was in bit of a pickle after Sonic and friends were fighting against fire demon, reminded of the one you sealed with another fire demon from the future.

Blaze : That was retconed a year ago. Sonic 06 has never been same since all evidence and events of the game's story were reset by him, thanks to the Princess of Soleanna! I never fought that would really choke my gizards after Eggman Nega was using that creature.

Marine : I'm afraid so. Guess it's your call to be the lucky one around here.

Captain Whisker : We don't take many visitors from those who has ever roamed the Seven seas! As collecting the Sol Emeralds of getting a 100% completion, I suggested that this will be your final "Walk the plan" and directly send you to Davey Jones with ye! And it makes me go Cattywampus on the poop deck!

Marine : Oi, when did he get into Pirate talk in this time of year. This isn't the 17th century, you know and it's not North Carolina. We're talking it to a major swell here, Mate.

Blaze : You're not having a Big Swelling fever I might ask you that.

Marine : What makes you say that, Mate?

Blaze : That's because we're on the Big Swell!

[Big Swell - Tomoya Ohtani]

Captain Whisker : Sorry for the intrusion, Princess! I'd be gladly ask if you tell me that we were going to retrieve the jeweled to Scepter to the two robotniks from two worlds.

Blaze : What!? So this was all of Eggman's scheme to take the Jewel Scepter that was inside the cave of Corals? That darn scientist, I knew he would come up with a plan on destroying planets. It's not like anyone can get away with attempted omnicide or anything.

Captain Whisker : Introducing the last of the greatest Ghost Machines that scorches ocean floors of your world, Princess!

(Ghost Titant eyes shine)

Captain Whisker : Call him Ghost Titan! A pinnacle of robot energy capable with built-in missiles from it's shoulder, a genuine robot of the greatest pirate army! The ultimate weapon of a pirate!

Blaze : Can't say no to that! Looks like you're gonna regret that on a evening like that every day! I won't let you do this to my world ever again!

Captain Whisker : Enough talk! Let's see if you can outsmart Ghost Titan that is the number one ghost titan of the century!

Blaze : I wouldn't think so. I bigger plans to make it out, you're just gonna cut some slack into it. You dig?

Captain Whisker : What!?

(Bob-Omb noises)

Captain Whisker : Argh! This is driving me nuts!

*DBZ/One Piece SFX : Loud Explosions*

Blaze : Come on, Marine! Let's get of this thing before it blows!

Marine : Right back at ya, mate! (the two runs off)

Blaze : Hang on!

Marine : This is going to get Messy...! JUUUUMP! (the two jumps off)

Blaze : Huaaaaaaaah!!!

*DBZ SFX : Grab*

Marine : Huh? What's going on? Did we dipped our selves into the water no?

Blaze : Whatever it is. Something's grabbing my hand.

Mizune : Hey, you need a lift? You could really use a hand here!

Blaze : Oh, lucky me! A witch.

Mizune : That's top hat Mizune for you. I'm a world-class treasure hunter. Them pirates had been scurvy for some jome kind of Jeweled scepter.

Blaze : I understand that would be the consequences. So how on earth did you manage to catch us quickly?

Mizune : Easy! I did it with the help of my mousey friends.

*DBZ SFX : Surprise*

Marine : Crikey! That's a lot of mices! Good thing that they become a great help!

Blaze : Don't get me crazy on this one, a treasure hunter a bunch of mice from Nintendo. Wait, their mouses big ears.

Mizune : Alright, everyone! Pull us up! Get those muscles working!

Blaze : Well, this considered to be a great help.

Marine : I wonder who should we meet.

(cuts to the three entering the room)

Mizune : Sorry it took so long, sir. I managed to bring the cat and the raccoon girl to get them inside the ship.

Daroach : Good work, Mizune. So you did find out who's been turning the tables wide open.

Mizune : Just a friendly reminder, that mad scientist from 200 years in Sonic's world was going to planet in Omnicide. I don't what the big fusses of what's going to happen for this planet.

Daroach : It's going to be a remarkable deduction on whether that mad man has been feeding off the lifeforms that were a part of the Chaos Heritage. But I felt that the man from 200 years will pay.

[Cutscene : Normal - Serirou Okamoto]

Marine : That's great to hear, mate. Blaze will become something even greater than being a princess. She will become the Princess that seeks just against the man who sabotages the planet for omnicide! No evildoers will make a smart move to destroy the world and that's why the princess is always on the horizon! Thank you! Thank you!

Mizune : Yeah...I reconsidered that to be my own princess of Justice. So much for not giving any instructions on whether you fight or crime or crime doesn't pay a price and I was that cool that it would be all a misunderstanding. So if I'm willing to think that we needed all something that could help the planet be protected and defended from the deadly forces that tried to bring galactic Conquest.

Marine : That's because no jerk would wanna do something bad, and I reconsider that obligated negotiations! So that's why we're saving this planet from evil deterioration, we shall never surrender!

Daroach : You got a point tho. And that's really surprisingly a fact about evil deterioration.

Blaze : We'll do, sir. We'll do. (in mind) Sheesh! When do I give extra credit for being the sole princess that goes solo on my sorry flaming tail. Too bad there's no way that we could pull this one off. [talks out normaly] *clears throat* Thanks for pulling us up, sir. I mean Madam. We somehow managed to get into your ship. So what brings us here?

Jet : What brings you here, (turns chair to reveal himself) is that you got a lot of guts meeting Sonic again. I heard that he collected one of the Eight Pure Hearts that connects to the Eight vessels, known as the Eight Pillars that were used as keys to unleash that "what-ya-gonna-call it" into the galaxy.

Blaze : It's Darkness, Jet of the Babylon Rogues. Of course Sonic was given a Green Pure Heart from the boy who created Soul World due to leading to the 1000 year annihilation in the Ohkuboverse. What did you brought something in your hand?

Jet : This? This one on my hand is the Ark of the Cosmos, we are not destined to meet a reunion by the year 2008, that's when this 14-year old meister chick is going to have her very own TV show, which will lead to her humiliation.

Blaze : Ark of the Cosmos, Maka, TV show? 2008. That's the year when Sonic and the others will face new dangers, but he will face the entire world of dangers before...he could even join Smash. That's his own prediction of Joining as Smash Bros.'s first third-party characters to join the fight. This could change everything since we participated in the Olympics. I will help him out, so that's why I decide that we will take down the evil forces that have been unleashing the demons into this world! So help me out with this one! It's time for me to gather the Sol Emeralds and become Burning Blaze once more!

~ Stage 34 : A Princess's Justice ~

[rebels-love]

The Stripper

A stripper at a Christmas party - are you kidding me?

Danes have this tradition to gather together in so-called “Julefrokost” (Christmas lunch) parties in December. Basically all companies in Denmark host an annual Julefrokost party. Beside that, such parties are also held among family and friend groups. Main ingredients are a lot of food (various Danish Christmas dishes), snaps (Danish liquor), beers, and sometimes also a stripper. 

If we’re talking about a bigger company, then you’ll never see a stripper. That said, I’ve experienced a stripper in a small tech company once. But it was only because no woman attended the company Christmas party that year. It’s typical in men-only or female-only parties a stripper will be hired. Yes, women in Denmark also hire a stripper sometimes.

Oh no, not some stripper again

Now, when someone gets this great idea to hire a stripper at 2 o'clock in the night, I always quietly think: Oh no, not again. The strip show performed is always so cliche-ish, boring, and the stripper is never my type anyway. Sure, I’ve seen strippers who were professional, good looking and naughty. But in the 20 years I've been exposed to strippers, no one knocked me out yet. That is, until the other day.

Didn't know she was a stripper

I stumbled into her when she arrived. At first sight, I thought she was a girlfriend or wife of some of the other people at the party. Lucky she wasn't, because I was embarrassingly slack-jawed by her 😮 Everything about her were just me. A little baddie with a naughty smile and badass sporty look that just knocked me out immediately I saw her.

She had an athletic petite body, dark hair, brown eyes, some Asian traits, and was wearing a cool sporty street outfit. I remember she had a cap, some leggings, and a crop top alike the photo above. As the cherry on the top she had a pair of special edition Jordans 3 Katrina on, tied like a true sneakerhead - i.e. shoelaces hidden etc. A pretty casual outfit, but nevertheless drop dead sexy, if you ask me. What can I say, I’m a geek and just love when women geek into their baddie outfits. Especially female sneakerheads that enjoy rocking in some vintage/retro type of baddie outfit can put a spell on me with ease :)

Her face and eyes was unbelievable seducing

She had a pretty face, and her eyes were breathtaking. Beautiful, but at the same time seductive, mysterious, wild, and dangerous like the mermaids in the pirates of Caribbean movie. I felt she looked at me with some kind of luring pervy smile, like she was into torturing shy geeks before eating them alive and her next prey was me! Also remember thinking to myself, that I’m being ridiculous and should not have been drinking all these snaps.

So, I stumbled: “Hi… who are you looking for?”

She smiled and asked for my friend. I found out she was a stripper he had ordered, which was very relieving. She’ll do her stuff and soon leave again - good! I mean, getting a slack-jawed crush on a stripper is not that dangerous. You just don’t want to do such a thing to a friend's girlfriend or wife, that would have been extremely embarrassing.

I mean, despite my attempt to hide it, I’m pretty sure being swept off my feet was very obvious to her. It’s hard to hide when kilowatts of electricity go down your spinal cord. 

Where can I change?

She asked me. While my friend tried to figure it out, she curiously asked a bit about the place and what kind of people we were. I could hear she was a smart girl, and also a bit assertive in her traits, which knocked me out even more.

Then she asked me who’s going to sit on the chair? While I answered: “ohhh…. well… not me…” my friend came to rescue and said he’d do it. He knows I’m normally not that fond of strippers and is a bit shy. 

She said ok, and went out to change her clothes. In the meantime, I quickly found a secure place at the bar a good distance away from where she was going to do her show. I was worried that she might take advantage of me being the shy geek completely knocked out by her two seconds after she arrived. Say an easy prey to tease in her show. However, my rational brain kept telling me that she’s just a stripper that happend to look a bit naughty. She just has to do her boring stripper show, and then finish.

However, to be sure I found this spot at the bar, behind two other people sitting at the bar as well. She would never bother to go there. I guess you can hear where this is going.

The Show

Finally she arrived, and was wearing some kinky latex outfit. Imagine a baddie like in the first couple of photos with an oiled body wrapped in some ultra tight latex parts and top. I was like WTF, is she really is some kinkster? OMG - hopefully she’s not going to approach me 😲

She had a flogger, and gave my friend a lesson with it while he was sitting on the chair. She gave him a naughty lap dance thing. It was kind of innocent stuff, but she was really naughty and seemed to enjoy playing some sexy mistress. I could see that it was not only me who was very a bit surprised and scared of her, but in a good way.

Beside her kinky outfit, I was really turned on by her assertive and dominant behaviour. I tried hard not to show, but then she suddenly looked directly at me across the room. I was like no no no, don’t come here - but of course she did. She went past the other people sitting in the bar and directly to me. I was like OMG, this is so embarrassing. Help me, this woman is going to kill me. 

First she rubbed her fit little perky butt against my crotch. She then took one of my hands and forced it down to grab and spank her behind a bit. Then she turned around and moved so close to me I could feel her breast and whole body pressing against mine. She put her finger under my chin lifting my face making me look at her, while she tortured me with her naughty devil eyes. Like she was saying: “So, you thought you could escape me? Don’t you ever underestimate me again! I can read all your dirty thoughts with ease, and now you’re my sex slave and I’m going to slowly torture you in perverted ways until I’m satisfied”. Well, she did not say that. She didn't have to. Lastly she grabbed my hair and pressed my face down into her oily tits sitting firmly in her latex top. 

She annoyed one more guy, and the show was over. After having changed back to her baddie outfit, she asked if the show was good.

OMG I really loved it! It was the most mind-blowing sexy shit I’ve ever experienced in my life.

[gaycey-sketchit]

(Gary anon) I'd continue with that because there's a very high chance the games will have their street date broken soon and dump in its entirety online. (If we're to follow the patterns, we are usually given a 3-4 week notice via some type of promo before anipoke airs it. If the leaks line up, we should get something very soon) We also finally got the episode title: "Finals 4: Partner". I wonder what this could be about~?

(Part 2) According to one of the people who obtains the TV guides for the episode titles, Journeys didn't present an "end" marker yet like previous series have on their last episode. So the mystery of the future continues to fester. (Considering how often Delia visits the lab. He also strikes me as someone who keep tabs on the type of foods each Pokemon likes; works really well when you're trying lure, observe,and draw them)

(Part 3) If they do continue, hopefully it's handled with care. I know quite a bit of the fandom want one or both gone for various reasons, some not the characters' fault. (Only a few days away until we eventually find out, maybe)

Yeah, I don't plan on logging back onto Twitter until release day, and even then I'm going to be cautious.

That's exciting! Soon!

Oh, I like that title. That's a good title. Hopefully it'll be a good episode!

Oh? Interesting...

Yeah! It makes sense!

Yeah, here's hoping whatever happens with those two is handled well. Some reasons people dislike them are definitely more fair than others. (I've said it before and I'll say it again, there is no doubt in my mind that no matter what other excuses people make up, Goh is criticized so heavily because he's brown, queer-coded, and neurodivergent-coded. We've seen similar with characters like Iris and Tracey, and it's a real shame that 23 years after Tracey debuted and was hated for being fat and gay, 12 years after Iris debuted and was hated for being a black girl, the fandom still has such a massive bigotry problem.)

But anyway. Yeah, it's only a matter of time, and not a lot of time! I can't believe how soon it all is, this time of year is so exciting!

[m4tthewmurd0ck]

lucky ~ matt murdock x reader

just some cute fluff (matt x you) featuring our baby foggy!

word count: 1.3k

You and Matt have been together for two years, and as a result, you’ve also become close with Foggy.

One night, he’s over for dinner. The boys had a good day in court, and it had become tradition that you’d make them a nice big meal afterwards as a celebration / congratulations. If it was a bad day in court, you’d all order pizza while they drowned their sorrows in the gooey cheese. Normally Karen was there too, but she hadn’t been able to make it that night. The entire hour at the table is sat laughing and reminiscing between bites of food.

Foggy talks about how he knew Matt had met you before he even said anything. “He was late to the office, and as soon as he walked in, I took one look at him and… I just knew. In the entire time that I’ve known this man,” he gestures to Matt, “I’ve never ever seen him that flustered. I said ‘what, you just meet the love of your life or something?’ and I was right!”

Matt nearly shed a tear from laughing so hard, remembering the time that you had scared the hell out of Foggy when he came over one day. It was even more hilarious when you admitted that although you knew he was coming over, you thought Matt was going to walk through the door first.

You were then asked out of all of your memories with both of them, what was your ultimate favorite? It was easy, you knew right away as soon as the question was asked.

“I swear I don’t mean to be conceited, but my birthday just last month,” you smiled, feeling yourself blushing.

Matt held his fist out to Foggy, who had a big grin on his face as he returned the fist bump.

They had gone all out for your birthday. And even saying that was an understatement. Karen had been in on it too, having slyly slipped birthday’s into a conversation when you’d swung by their office for lunch one day.

During that conversation, she said that her worst nightmare was a surprise party. She wanted to know something was happening well before it happened, and she hated the idea of coming home expecting to be alone or just with one other person, or being lured to some mystery location, only to be met with the surprise of friends.

You laughed, admitting that a surprise party was something that you’d always wanted. But that you just wanted your very close friends, not a bunch of acquaintances that you barely knew. Karen asked if a surprise party consisting of her, Foggy, and Matt, would be what she meant, and you said that was the perfect guest list.

You both moved on to other aspects of the perfect birthday party, Karen saying she thought the idea of a bunch of cupcakes instead of one big cake sounded cute, while you said your favorite movie series was Harry Potter, and you always wanted a cake like the one Hagrid made for Harry. You both agreed that the best color scheme seemed to be black and gold, something about it just feeling so classy.

When your birthday came around, Foggy ended up calling you and begging you to go with him to pick out a new suit, saying he felt like treating himself so that he’d look nice and spiffy in court, but that he had no idea what to buy. You didn’t know it of course, but Karen and Matt were frantically trying to finish decorating his apartment in time.

There were a lot of tears when you walked through the door. Foggy had rushed ahead of you, claiming he had to pee really bad. When you walked in, Matt, Karen, and Foggy were standing there with party hats on, and they all yelled “happy birthday!” as soon as they saw you. Instantly, you teared up. The place was decorated pretty much exactly how you described it to Karen, and you now knew why she randomly brought up those questions. You hoped that you remembered all of her answers so that you could plan her party.

Foggy claps, bringing you back to the present. “That was your best birthday ever, right?”

“Oh, one thousand percent,” you nodded in agreement. “I still can’t believe you guys did all of that.”

When the three of you finish eating, dishes are cleared away courtesy of Matt and Foggy. Whenever you cooked, they never let you touch the dirty dishes.

Afterwards, Matt said he was just going to take a quick shower, mumbling something about how being in a court room always felt a little grimy despite the good outcomes.

You and Foggy settled across from each other on the couch, flipping through random channels on Matt’s new TV until you settled on a random comedy show.

Matt couldn’t help but smile as he heard you and Foggy both burst out laughing at something that was said on TV. When he exits the shower, he can’t help but eavesdrop as he’s drying off.

“—but did people actually refer to him as blind Matt Murdock? Wouldn’t most people just say Matt Murdock?”

Foggy snaps his fingers, pointing to you. “I knew you were perfect for him. That is exactly what he said.”

The show resumes after a commercial break, and attention is once again back on the TV. During the next commercial break, Foggy turns to face you. “Thank you.”

“Oh it’s not a problem, you guys deserve at least a nice meal after a big win like today—”

“No,” he shakes his head, and you’re confused. You assumed he meant for the dinner. “I mean for making Matt so happy. I think you guys are the literal definition of soulmates, and I swear on my life that I’ve never seen him happier than he is when he’s with you. I used to hate being in college and seeing him with the occasional girl,” he puts his hands up “n-not that I mean he was with a ton of girls. I mean he— no one else was ever really that nice to me, but I like you. But okay I’m getting off track here. What I mean to say, is thank you for making my best friend so happy. He talks about it all the time, how lucky he is to have met you.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest, that made you so happy. “I’m definitely the lucky one, he quickly became the best person I know. I didn’t ever think I’d find someone who’s so kind and caring, and loving.”

“Hey,” Foggy pauses for a moment, deep in thought. “Can I be best man at your wedding?”

“Shh,” you put your hand to your lips, “you didn’t hear it from me, but Matt wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Foggy quickly stands up, doing a little victory dance. As he does so, you can’t help but glance down at your left hand, admiring your new ring.

“You know,” he says your first name as he sits back down, “sounds pretty good with Murdock at the end of it. Like it’s a really good fit. Can you imagine marrying someone with an ugly last name? Anyway, that’s how you know you’re soulmates.”

You burst out laughing, loving Foggy’s train of thought. “Because my first name sounds good with his last name?”

“Yup. And soon it’ll be your last name too! Mr. and Mrs. Murdock, now that sounds cool.”

Unbeknownst to either of you, Matt was standing just on the other side of the bathroom door. It wasn’t like him to really eavesdrop on either of you, but he had been curious as to where the conversation was headed when he heard Foggy thank you.

As he opened the door to rejoin his fianceé and best friend, he wondered how on earth he got so lucky.

[bontenten]

Bewitch

Pairings: Osamu x F!Reader x Atsumu; Miyacest WC: 7.4k Genre/Warnings: smut, fairytale retelling (Hansel and Gretel), magic au, dubcon/noncon, incest (miyacest), fear, knife, monster, bondage, snuff, vore, gore/blood, object insertion, body horror, a bit of size, tummy bulge, oral (m.receiving), anal (m. receiving), masturbation (f. & m.), voyeurism, arson...

Summary: The unexpected guests at your cottage have a mysterious past and hidden agenda. Will they allow you to accompany them on their journey?

Travelers are advised not to spend the night in the Dark Woods. It's said that beyond the last hiking trail, past a brook, lives an Evil Witch. That witch is vile and merciless; often, fools lost in the woods are never seen again. It's said that she must be over 800 years old, feeding off of the essences of children and young men unfortunate enough to cross her paths. It’s said that she even eats fellow witches. No one really knows. After all, no one who has seen her has lived to tell the tale.

It's been a few months since your teacher has left you to fend for yourself here in the woods—your first time alone during this apprenticeship. She said she had to attend a big conference with a whole bunch of other grand witches. You asked if you could tag along, but she insisted that you stay and watch the cottage. The lack of company is about to drive you insane so you often resort to conversing with yourself or the forest itself.

The soft moss muffles the sound of your footsteps as you begin the trek back home, a faint off-trail path away from the main road that no one else would usually notice. On any other day, you would just go home without a fuss, but loneliness makes people do some bizarre and odd things. For instance, the desperate longing for companionship leads to you dropping a not-so-hidden trail of fancy pebbles to inadvertently lead someone to your abode.

For most travelers, going off-trail is akin to a death sentence as any wrong turn might lure them into the forest's deadly maze. Not for you though, you know this place very well: every fallen tree, overturned log, the wanted signs nailed to the trunk...

Wait. A wanted sign?

You can make out from your distance that there are two heads on it, but the details are fuzzy, and the bounty looks smudged. Before you can get a closer look, you hear the birds caw in the trees, signaling the beginning of sunset. You pull your attention away from the poster and continue on to your way home.

The cottage is extremely cozy and warm. The windows are bejeweled and the door is solid wood. You live here comfortably with your teacher, after all, learning about the principles of magic and what it means to be a witch. It's much more than curses and spells, as your teacher would tell you, witches have character and a moral compass. Although there are certainly those who decide to experiment with the darker arts.

While you get a fire going in the huge furnace and boil some water on the stovetop, you hear two voices squabbling outside followed by three raps on the door. You're stunned by the noise, turning to face the shut door wondering if you were just dreaming about the noise. Is it? Visitors? No, you must have heard wrong.

"'Samu, I bet it's a farce, let's not." The voice sounds both tired and weary, almost out of breath.

"Let me just try again, I can smell a working kitchen in there, someone is definitely there," another voice insists. Three more knocking sounds. "Excuse me! Is the owner of the house available? My brother and I followed a path of colored stone and came upon your establishment...could you spare us some water? A bite of food?"

Two men, though they sound friendly. You're frozen in the kitchen, staring at the door that remains between you and the strangers.

"Is there someone home?" The second voice tries again. "Please, my brother is not feeling very well."

Your initial wariness for the stranger melts when you hear about the brother, which does not sound like a lie based on the raspy voice you first hear. A witch's character is fundamentally kind to all sentient beings, especially those in need. But you're still nervous, so you end up grabbing a metal ladle before carefully going to open the door. When you crack the door open, you see a pair of twins. Beautiful men, one blonde and one grey-haired. The former, with a quirky grin, although his eyes certainly look lackluster. But the other seems like he's at the right place, eyes peering past you into your home, fixated on your kitchen.

"I'm Osamu. And this," he gestures to his twin, "is my brother Atsumu. We're a bit lost, you see."

You nod your head in a casual greeting and introduce yourself as the resident apprentice at this cottage. As a good host should, you open the door to the weary guests preparing to welcome them in.

"Are we welcomed in?" Osamu asks, not moving from his spot. Atsumu isn’t budging either, arms crossed and only looking at you from the corner of his eye, waiting for your answer.

Without giving much thought you nod and open the door wider. "Both of you are most welcomed in."

"Then we thank you for your hospitality," Osamu says, taking a step inside, dragging his twin with him.

Words, especially spoken words carry power and hold intent. And a witch's words, no matter how careless they slip out, contain magic. Welcome, as you say. So welcome, they are.

You shut the door behind them and prepare to go give your first-ever guests some water. When you turn around, you notice Osamu already in the kitchen, the sleeves of his tunic rolled up past his elbows.

"Your food is about to burn. Heat's too high," he tells you, expertly taking control of the sizzling pots and pans. "I got it, don't worry."

Feeling flustered at the faint smell of scorching food, you hurry over to see if you can be of any assistance. "Let me help out."

"No, it's quite alright."

How can a host let her guests do all the work like that? And the first company in a while too! What an utter failure.

"How—" you try to argue back, but you're cut off by Atsumu tugging on your wrist, dragging you over to the sofa in the corner.

"Don't worry about him, he loves to cook." Atsumu brushes out the wisps of his bangs with a huff. "And actually quite good at it. Anything that goes through his hands...well, in short, all become part of his design."

Like his twin, Atsumu's frame is broad and huge, but there is a quality of emptiness of sorts. Osamu's shoulders are wide but there's more substance to it, whereas Atsumu's form seems contained. You can't help but use your learnings to see if you can figure out just what's off about Atsumu. He's slowly walking around the living room and studying the portraits hanging on the wall. He picks up a frame that is set above the fireplace and comments, "None of these are you. How come?"

"Oh, they're my teacher. I'm just a witch-in-training at the moment, so—"

"A witch?" Atsumu questions, clenching the frame tightly. His hands begin to shake, the glass under his thumb beginning to crack.

You did not expect Atsumu to display such a visceral reaction upon the mention of witches. After all, witches normally stayed far away from ordinary human society and when they do mix, it's often a role of healing. But the look that sparks in Atsumu's eyes, it's almost—feral.

"'Tsumu!" Osamu yells while stalking over quickly from the kitchen. He throws his arm around Atsumu's neck and drags him off into the shadows. You can't make out the muffled voices and deep growling noises that are coming from down the hall.

It's their private matter, so you go back to the kitchen. True enough, Osamu's hands are almost like magic. The bubbling pot of broth doesn't seem to be on the verge of overflowing, the onions caramelizing beautifully, filling the air with deliciousness.

Moments later, the twins come back. You notice that Osamu clothes are wrinkled from tugging Atsumu around, but at the very least, Atsumu is looking much better than before.

The three of you set the table for dinner. Osamu brings out the plates as though he knows the kitchen inside and out already. Atsumu comes emerging from the cellar with two bottles of fine wine that you didn't even know your teacher had stowed away. Surely, she wouldn't mind? With Osamu and Atsumu sitting to the left and right of you at the round table, it almost feels like a more familiar, cozier gathering between friends than a situation of a host and her guests.

They tell you that they have been traveling across the lands for a long time now, looking for a cure for Atsumu's illness. It reminds you of the hollow, repressed form you saw earlier and your curiosity gets the better of you. They don't tell you the nature of the malady, but what they do share is that they are looking for a witch to undo the curse on Atsumu, a result of dark witchcraft.

"I am a witch!" you exclaim, feeling your call to action at the moment. "Please, is there truly nothing for me to help to undo the spell?"

Osamu leans in close to you, and wipes a bit of sauce staining the corner of your lips with the pad of his thumb. He smiles. "We're looking for a very high-level witch. One day, maybe you'll get to the level of magic needed."

"You're too weak," Atsumu bluntly points out. You're sure Osamu means to say the same thing, but Atsumu's words are really sharp.

"I know," you sigh. "My teacher tells me that all the time. So, I'm really trying. I'm sure there's at least something I can do."

"I definitely think that. Don't be so hard on yourself," Osamu comforts. "Have you been living alone here for a long time?"

You feel two pairs of eyes glued onto you waiting for your answer. You smile reflexively before your eyes trail to the empty plate and carefully choose your words. "Yea. Just me and my teacher. She's a grand witch...maybe if you wait here for a few days, you can meet her when she comes back from her conference."

"We—"

"We'll be gone tomorrow!" Atsumu snaps, staring into Osamu's eyes.

Osamu doesn't pay any mind to Atsumu, and puts an extra piece of dessert onto your plate.

"We have a long way to go. Atsumu's condition isn't getting better, so we can't stop in one place for long."

It makes you a little sad, because you were hoping to spend some more time with the twins, both of whom you have grown fond of. Osamu and his gentleness. And even Atsumu, despite his quick remarks and outbursts, adds a particular spice to your mundane life.

"Maybe we'll bring you with us," Osamu comments lightly, "'Tsumu, wouldn't that be nice?"

"She'll just be dead weight," Atsumu retorts. You wonder if he absolutely hates you. Is that why he is always so against you being next to Osamu?

Osamu puts an arm around you and blows on the shell of your ear. It tickles and you can feel his body enveloping you. "But she's so sweet," he tells Atsumu and whispers into your ear, "Aren't you?"

You find your wandering gaze looking into his half-lidded grey eyes. His face is right next to you, lips just hovering barely five centimeters away. The overwhelming presence of him is undeniably alluring. Your breaths become shallow as your heart rate speeds up with desire.

"I'm exhausted! 'Samu you too. We're going to bed!" Atsumu drops the silverware onto his plate and stands up. He comes around the table, muttering curses under his breath. Atsumu grabs Osamu by the wrist and drags him off towards the guest bedroom you have shown them before.

You didn't quite catch Atsumu's angry mutters, but you hear "slut" and "harlot" thrown around a few times. Were they directed at you? No, you're not like that, you tell yourself. Atsumu must have been thinking that you are trying to seduce his twin. After you clear out the table, you decide to clear up any misunderstanding.

You tip-toe down the hall to the guest bedroom prepared to knock when you hear muffled sounds coming from inside. You carefully press your ears to the crevice of the door and clamp a hand around your mouth upon hearing the stream of moans.

"'Samu, 'Samu please, ah—"

That's Atsumu? Your eyes are wide and still trying to process the shock of what you're hearing. You tell yourself you shouldn't be here. You should not be listening to whatever is happening behind the closed door, but you can't help it. Hearing Atsumu's moans makes you want to squirm.

You slightly jump when you hear a slap, followed with a pleasured groan. The sound is so clean it feels as though the phantom hands are touching your own heated skin.

Osamu's chuckle nearly makes your knees weak.

"Don't get cocky, if it were any other day ngh—, any other day, I would be the one pushing you into the mattress."

Slap. "Shut up, cute 'Tsumu. I like you being so needy for me like this. What do you want from me? Tell me."

"Fuck me, 'Samu."

"With pleasure."

The wood creaks loudly and you tell yourself, you really need to get out as you back away and try to quickly walk down the hall back to your bedroom.

You throw the door open and lock the door behind you with a click. With your eyes closed, you try to steady your breath and the building heat in your core. It's quiet. There's no noise coming from their room. But they are twins! 

You remind yourself that a witch is all-accepting and kind. There are so many circumstances beyond your understanding, judgement is not a part of your nature. And if what they are performing is wrong, what should you say about yourself? You peel off your clothes and step out of the soaked panty that is proof of your lust.

Pillows are fluffed and covers are pulled over your body. You try to sleep, but each time you are about to drift, Atsumu's cries of pleasure come back into your head. Your hand trails down your navel until the fingertips trace over your clit. Gathering some slick from your cunt, you drag it across the sensitive bud.

You shudder from the touch as images, constructed in your fantasy, cloud your mind. You imagine Atsumu's hands spreading your legs apart and Osamu's teasing words next to your ear. He would tell you to open wide and shove his cock down your throat. You suck on three of your fingers until lips wrap over the knuckles, your saliva pooling from hunger. And slip your fingers into your cunt easily, curling them against the plush walls.

"F-fuck me," you moan into your pillow.

With pleasure.

You quiver, clit pulsating, and your pussy juice dripping into your palm. The wash from the high soon takes you into sleep. All throughout the night, you squirm and feel the phantom sensation of being watched. Not just observed, but studied, by two pairs of glinting hungry eyes. You can almost imagine them on either side of the bed, trapping you into the mattress no matter which way you turn.

A few times the weird feelings almost pull you awake, but you don't dare crack an eye open to confirm your suspicions until the morning light begins to filter through the windows, rousing you from sleep. The air is filled with fragrant herbs and the sizzle of delicious brunch from someone awake before you.

No doubt, it's Osamu, because who else can it be? Atsumu? Please. The twins....

You climb out of bed and stretch your neck on the way to the washroom. Your bedroom door is open, but it's too early to notice that detail.

"Morning!" Osamu greets you from the kitchen. You find a fresh mug of coffee shoved into your hands from him.

You mumble thanks and sip at the brew while watching Osamu fry the eggs. Osamu looks to be deep in thought, probably thinking about something pleasant from the faint smile ghosting on his face. You feel a pang of guilt from both listening to their private lives, and also the strange feelings that maybe they heard your private life too—it's all your paranoia talking.

"You're so talented," you blurt out, fisting the fabric of your long skirt.

"Thanks, but better not let 'Tsumu hear ya, he gets jealous super easily."

Even if Atsumu hears, it's fine. You really mean both of them. Both of the twins both seem super talented as a duo; like they've been out there and seen the world. Meanwhile, you're still stuck here, without company. Would it be possible...if they simply stayed?

Osamu senses the words that are stuck in your mouth and answers them for you. "We're gonna be leaving right after breakfast. There's still lots of ground to cover today," he explains, plating the pancake before preparing to ladle a spoonful of batter for the next one.

"Do you have to leave?" you ask, almost pleading.

"It's cozy here and comfortable. We enjoy your company too, but we have to go. Your teacher would hate us, immensely, and on top of that...let's just say, we're always on the run."

"You say it like you two are fugitives or something."

Osamu chuckles and leans closer to you, hot breath flaming your cheeks, or maybe it's just the heat from the stove. A teasing grin pulls his cheeks up slightly as your eyes flicker over to see his lips spell out, "Maybe. Scared?"

Embarrassed, you take a defensive step back, squeaking and bumping into another body.

"MORNING!" Atsumu announces behind you. He's in good spirits and he has his hands on your waist to steady you; he sniffs your hair and smiles before letting you go. "I smell something delicious."

"Breakfast is ready," Osamu says, plating the pancakes. "Hungry 'Tsumu?"

"Tch." Atsumu shoves past you and knees Osamu, mood doing a complete 180. You're almost left like a fly on the wall as you watch the scene unfold.

Osamu is quick to catch his balance while keeping watch on the stove. "Not awake yet?" Osamu grins and passes him a plate of pancakes, essentially telling him to shut up and eat. "Who shoved a stick up your ass? Go eat."

"Fuck you."

"Hm."

Atsumu grumbles but digs into his food anyway. Osamu catches your amused expression in the corner and explains, "It's always like that between us. It's our...way of showing how much we care."

"I know." It's sort of endearing, the banter between the two brothers. Even if the world turns against them, no matter what the odds are, at least Miya Osamu will have Miya Atsumu, and Atsumu will have Osamu. Perhaps it's exactly that sort of bond the two share that you're envious of. Body and soul. Because if only you could have just an ounce of that sort of familiarity with another. But you're just an outsider without an invitation to join in.

While you're mulling over your thoughts, you don't catch the darkening gazes being exchanged between the twins. At some point, Atsmu's plate is already emptied and the wooden table is cleared while you're still lost in your mind. Osamu is fiddling with the metal tea strainer, bobbing it up and down to brew a mug of tea. He threads a cotton string in and out like it's a plaything.

"Do you really want to be with us?" Osamu asks nonchalantly. "'Tsumu and I were talking about it. If you do, maybe we can work something out."

"I just..." You feel like this is your final chance to tell them that you don't want them to go. None of the going around circle hinting that you have been doing. This is the moment to just tell it to them. If you miss this chance, you feel like you won't have another. And even though a pit pulls at your inwards telling you to reconsider, you're brave. "I just want to be together with you all, and help you cure Atsumu. My teacher is so talented, I'm sure she'll have a remedy."

They grin.

Osamu is a great cook, he can do that. Atsumu sometimes seems lazy, but he's super strong and quick to help too. And you can pick up all sorts of other tasks in the area! Maybe because they're so helpful, your teacher will even let them stay once Atsumu is cured. Maybe they can learn magic too! You have heard of warlocks who are powerful with spells too. And you can already imagine, the three of you, like a team, eventually going out into the world to fight demons and monsters and—

"Open wide," a sultry voice sounds next to you. Backing away automatically, you find Atsumu standing right behind you.

"W-wait," your voice shakes, stuck in your throat. "What are—"

His fingers reach for your mouth, prying it open. Before you can voice your distaste, a warm, metal ball gets shoved into your mouth, the thin chain quickly tangles into your hair. The faint traces of tea seep out of its small holes down your tongue and throat, while some spill out the corner of your mouth like trails of drool down your jawline.

Osamu smiles and wipes the liquid away with his thumb, relishing in how your widening eyes gape at him in confusion.

"Being together," he answers the question you wanted to ask, "is what you want isn't it?" He takes a spool of kitchen twine and begins to secure the tea strainer in your mouth. The thin cotton threads wrap around your head over and over again, tightening the steel against your tongue.

You shake your head and try to take another step away from the man you're beginning to become wary of, but the strong grip of Atsumu's hands on your shoulder prevents you from squirming at all. His fingers dig into your flesh, and when you turn to look at him you catch a glint in his eyes, glowering down at you.

"No, no, no, behave," he taunts you, "listen to 'Samu. He'll make you feel real good, trust me."

With the gag in your mouth, all you can let out are weak, warbling gargles from the back of your throat. Why are you doing this? You weren't like this before? Loud snorts flare out your nostrils from the fear screaming through your body.

Osamu comes back with a paring knife, examining the edge under the sunlight filtering in through the stained glass. He presses the cool blade along your cheek, dragging with the dull edge just enough so the sharp end doesn't cut your skin. You feel your knees growing weak and if not for Atsumu's hold on you, you would sink into a shuddering heap on the floor.

"You know, I think you might be the best meal yet," Osamu compliments, blade trailing down to your collarbone. The tip of the knife toys with the first button, pressing tension on the x-cross stitching. Snap. The first button pops off, dropping onto the wooden floor and rolling away to an inconspicuous corner. "I'll prep you well."

Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap. The knife flicks again and all the buttons clatter on the floor before running away for refuge.

Atsumu has cleared the table already and you find yourself hoisted up and laid onto the surface like a slab of meat on a cutting board. The cold surface presses against the back of your shoulder and ass. Osamu ties your wrist together with a hemp rope and secures the other end around the table leg. He also secures your ankles to two other anchor points.

You're utterly exposed and ashamed at your body's display, mortified at how your body is reacting when you catch sight of Atsumu, his eyes dilated, looking at your slit that you know is drenched already. The rough texture of the rope presses painfully into your skin from how tight the bindings are. You can only let out gagged whines in complaint, chest rising up and down from the loud breaths.

"Can't do, love," Osamu chides, kissing the knot at your wrist, satisfied with the results. His fingertips trail down to cup your jaw and his thumb runs across the tea strainer. You close your eyes and groan at his touch. Osamu murmurs, "I won't let anything go to waste."

Atsumu is growing impatient at the sight of his twin treating you like the finest specimen ever. You're not the first one. You won't be the last one, but he still can't stand the sight of someone looking just like himself having first tastes while he's missing out himself. He wants to shove Osamu aside, but he knows that Osamu absolutely hates it when he ravages the meal when it's not ready.

Atsumu unzips his pants and lets his hardened, leaking cock spring free. You stare at Atsumu who is fixated on his own pleasure. His hand wraps around his cock and pumps the length up and down.

Osamu turns your head to look at himself instead. "Someone there is impatient, but let's not learn from him, okay? I want to take you slow, make sure you'll be ready. I don't want you stressed, you release too much cortisol and that toughens the meat."

Anything that goes through his hands...well, in short, all become part of his design.

His hand kneads your breast and toys with your nipple, circling and tugging on the tiny, erect bud.

"Relax," he whispers into your ear. "Just like you did last night."

You try to clamp your thighs shut from reflex. Immediately the resistance from the rope ties stop your movements. Osamu squeezes your thighs and pushes them apart once more.

"Right here isn't it, after hearing me fuck 'Tsumu..." Osamu's finger runs down the sides of your labia. "You just couldn't help touching yourself too huh?"

He knows. They know. You feel your cheeks burn at the realization.

"There's nothing embarrassing about it. If anyone should be, it should be us twins, " Osamu's fingers easily slip in, your pussy already dripping with arousal. "Oh woops, I shouldn't need to comfort you. You're clearly not shy."

Osamu's fingers are thick and long, able to reach far deeper than you ever can. Your tongue is still struggling against the gag while your saliva steeps the tea leaves trapped in the ball.

"Oi," Atsumu cuts in with annoyance. "I thought you said to not play with food. What the fuck are you doing, chef?"

Osamu stops his finger in you for a moment before dragging them out. You're trembling at the sudden emptiness and desire to fill the space immediately. The lack of stimulation is irritating and you are desperate.

Osamu walks up to Atsumu, bringing his drenched fingers covered in your slick to his lips for a taste. Before he can do so, Atsumu grabs Osamu's wrist and takes in those digits, sucking on them gingerly.

Osamu smiles and runs the other hand through Atsumu's hair.

"Patience is a virtue, 'Tsumu, I was just getting her fully prepared for you. I'm giving her all to you already, you couldn't even let me have a taste of her?"

Atsumu releases Osamu's fingers with a pop. "I never said I wasn't going to share," he mutters before pulling Osamu in for a kiss, passing the taste of you along their tongues.

Your body jostles as you finally get a visual matching what you heard last night. You feel your pussy leaking with more excitement, the arousal drips all the way down to your asshole. And the more you squirm, it's as though the rope ties become tighter and tighter, rubbing your skin raw. But even that pain is incomparable to the need to quell your fire.

Atsumu pulls away and presses one last kiss on Osamu's nose. "I always love what you serve, thank you 'Samu." Your heart rate rapidly speeds up as Atsumu comes towards you. He's positioned between your legs, both hands on your thighs, marveling at the display of your body. His hands feel hot.

Atsumu grins. "You probably didn't expect me to be the one taking you, huh?" He guides his cock to your entrance, the bulging tip prodding along your puffy lips. "Did you want Osamu to be the one fucking you?"

No? You want to argue, straining your head up slightly, but only tea-laced saliva drips out from the corners of your mouth.

"'Fuck me, 'Samu. Fuck me, please.' Is that what you heard? Is that what you wanted to say too?"

Your screams are muffled whimpers.

Osamu snorts off to the side, watching Atsumu do exactly what he accused Osamu earlier of: playing with his food. Hypocrite.

Atsumu glares at Osamu before turning his attention back to you. "You'll be begging for me, Atsumu, after I'm done with you."

He lines himself at your entrance and inches himself in, groaning at how your cunt is somehow just sucking him in. You're so warm and tight inside, wrapping perfectly around every part of him. He sits in you for a moment, just enjoying being blanketed by your muscles and chuckling how you tighten around him every now and then.

You whine, urging Atsumu to move a little.

"Okay, okay. Geez, and 'Samu says I'm impatient." Atsumu slowly draws his cock out and snaps his hips forward, the base of his balls slapping against your ass. He delights at how you squeeze your eyes shut and continues rocking into you at a comfortable pace.

Osamu enjoys standing off to the side for a while. He always liked watching Atsumu savor and delight the food he prepares. Atsumu always eats with such gusto. It should have always been that way, until the witch ruined everything. The curse, an experiment with the dark arts, should have never happened. Above all else, it should never have been on Atsumu. Osamu can only wonder if the reason they are subjected to this fate is because they are twins. Until a cure is found, Atsumu, his most beloved other, will have to replenish himself in this way.

A sharp pain rips through you and tears well up in your eyes. You feel Atsumu's cock suddenly begin to pulsate and grow in size. At first, you thought it was because you're clamping down on him too hard and will yourself to relax. But the cock, the thing, is certainly unnatural now. And between your tear-stained vision, you can just barely make out... Monster.

You begin to thrash wildly, head tossing side to side, back arched as much as you can in a futile escape attempt. Atsumu's claws rest on your hips while he pounds into you furiously. His groans, now deep growls, send vibrations that you can feel within your throbbing clit. You fear that you'll actually be ripped in half by the way Atsumu is thrusting into you. The engorged cockhead hits your cervix each time and his ball sack, even heavier, bowls and knocks against you.

Osamu unfolds his arms and comes over.

"It'll only hurt if you don't relax," he tells you, reaching out to press on your clit. "Just let him have his way."

"Go fuck her somewhere else," Atsumu snarls. His voice is warped and bellowing. Your mind is getting foggy as Osamu's fingers on your clit don't stop teasing the bud while having a petty talk with Atsumu. And Atsumu, ticked off by Osamu, picks up his speed.

"There we go, now that's beautiful," Osamu comments, taking his hand away and watching you unfurl in your pleasure. Your abused cunt is puffy when Atsumu pulls out, and you feel the thick liquid start to flow out when you take breaths.

"No, don't do that," Osamu chides, taking three fingers to gather the cum spilling out and stuffing it back in. "Better keep it all in. 'Tsumu isn't done with you yet."

Not yet? You can't even voice your thoughts except weakly shaking your head and moaning into the steel gag. In the moment, your stomach rumbles loudly.

"'Samu, she's hungry," Atsumu points out, rubbing your tummy. "You feed her and I'll stuff her."

Osamu ruffles Atsumu's long hair and gives his new, erected horns a teasing squeeze. Atsumu yelps at the touch. "'Samu!"

"Okay, okay," Osamu relents and stands next to your head. You see him take the paring knife again and slide the icy blade between the cotton ties and your hot cheek. A quick slice and you feel the pressure of the gag release. Osamu removes the tea strainer from your mouth and tosses it into the sink.

"Must have been so over-brewed, I apologize for that," he says. You know he doesn't mean it at all.

"Why?" you croak out. Your jaw and cheeks are sore from being held in position for so long. There's so many things you believe you can ask why about. Why they are prepping you like a meal, fucking you like a toy...Why Atsumu is the way he is. Why Osamu is not who you think he is either. Why you.

Despite Atsumu's grotesque figure, you're sure that you fear this twin more. Osamu's thoughts are so well-hidden behind his eyes; he never gives away what he's thinking or planning. You can only accept his decisions from the receiving end.

"Because of Atsumu," Osamu answers. Everything is for 'Tsumu. "I'll feed you."

Osamu cradles your head with both hands, his fingers tangled in your hair. He prods his cock against your lips. Feeling your resistance, he grips your hair tightly, painfully pulling on your scalp, and presses the tip of his cock to force your lips open. You nearly gag at the length entering your throat and your hands ball into tight fists. Your nose is buried in the base of his cock, pressing into his balls. Each breath you take is heavy with his musky, hot scent.

It's easy to focus on Osamu's cock fucking into your throat, leaving an unamused, monstrous twin off to the side preparing to turn your attention back to him by force.

Atsumu rubs himself against you, preparing to enter you again. You're sure that he has become even bigger. When the tip pushes through, your body attempts to fight the intrusion in self-preservation. The claws at your hips dig in and Atsumu all but pulls you onto his length like a sock. You scream around Osamu's cock, throat clenching around his thick length, and nearly black out from the stretch.

You never had anything this big in you before. Atsumu lifts you up slightly, his grasp becoming large enough to encircle around your whole waist. Your ankles are still tethered and tug on you, much to Atsumu's annoyance. He easily slices through the bondages with a sharp claw. Now free of restraints, Atsumu can cradle you more easily, finally pushing the last section into you. 

Crack!

You can’t cry while you're stuffed with Osamu’s cock, but tears stream endlessly from your eyes. You’re sure your pelvic floor is broken, completely forced apart in a futile attempt to accommodate Atsumu stuffing you beyond your physical capacity. Your hips give out as your two legs, bone out from their sockets, dangle grotesquely.

“Just focus on me,” Osamu wipes your tears away and continues to pump into you. But you cannot focus on the human object in your mouth when your whole lower half and inwards are broken, stretched or squashed.

"Hey look ‘Samu! It's bulging," Atsumu marvels at the imprint of his tip pushing your flesh out from the inside. “Look, my cock is saying ‘hello’.”

Atsumu excitement translates into messy thrusts, treating your body like a game. “Maybe I can even touch your dick through her!” 

Your whole body is numb, the brain shuts its pain signals off completely, and hormones pour through your bloodstream in overdrive. The broken climax spasms through your body like the last bits of a faltering system.

“Better hurry...she’s...she’s fading soon,” Osamu warns between his grunts. He clasps your head and spurts his seed into you. You mindlessly swallow every drop of him, letting the contents slowly flow down your throat. You can’t process anything nor recognize any of the murky images. Who are you? Where are you?

Your memory fades in and out as your eyesight drifts between black and white. You can’t do anything about how the monster is now on all fours over your body, unrecognizable as Atsumu. You don’t feel any fear towards this grotesque figure. You don’t register how his tongue licks your neck.

Your mouth is now empty but you can’t formulate syllables.

“I’m sorry,” you hear Osamu whisper before sharp fangs pierce into your jugular, digging in deeper and tearing a chunk out. Red sprays across your body in fast spurts, drenching Atsumu and covering Osamu. The teeth at your throat gnaw at the flesh, starved, tearing through the skin, fat, and tissues like a child crunching fruit. 

You can feel the droplets falling onto your face like fresh rain after a storm. You vaguely remember your teacher and her warning of strangers. She always reprimanded you and you wanted to make her proud. There will no longer be any chance of that now. You weren’t a good student, and only an utter failure.

Osamu waits for Atsumu to finish you off. Atsumu always gets messy at this point. Osamu tried to help Atsumu section his prey off by cutting and organizing the limbs and even attempted to debone the meal beforehand, but Atsumu has his preferences, and Osamu respects them. So, Osamu delegates cleaning duties to himself instead. 

You’re already beyond recognition when Osamu comes back with barrels of oil. All that is left is a kitchen stained with blood and a pile of bone with chewed connective tissue left. Atsumu sometimes eats the bones too, but not always.

“‘Tsumu, are you full now?” Osamu asks, reaching out to cradle his twin. Atsumu has now transformed back to the way he is supposed to be. Osamu threads his hand through Atsumu’s blonde hair and inhales his twin’s scent.

Atsumu doesn’t respond and tugs at Osamu’s collar, trailing down his arm to bring Osamu’s hand to his own cock.

Osamu grins and kisses the top of Atsumu’s head. “Do you want to fuck me ‘Tsumu? I know you like to, after your meals.”

Atsumu whines and nips at Osamu’s jaw, pushing the twin down on the blood-stained floor.

“Okay, okay.” Osamu unzips and pulls down his pants before crawling onto all fours.

Atsumu’s hand cups Osamu’s ass and pries the cheeks open before curiously fingering at the specimen plugging Osamu’s hole. Atsumu holds onto the base and turns the object, before laughing.

“‘Samu, what is this you have in your ass,” Atsumu teases. “I like this presentation.”

This time, Osamu is the one embarrassed. “Last meal, it hurt like hell. So...I wanted to prepare a little.”

“With an egg holder?” Atsumu cackles again, fiddling with the ceramic object. “Should’ve just told me ‘Samu, I could never bear to hurt you.”

Atsumu holds onto the base and slowly pulls the object out before tossing it aside. He smiles and teases Osamu’s enlarged hole that’s opening and closing around nothing. Gathering up some saliva, he spits onto Osamu’s asshole before lining his cock at the rim and slowly pushing in.

Along with the curse comes a near insatiable lust. Atsumu knows that if he doesn’t fulfill his need to fuck or be fucked, he will snap. He doesn’t really care who he kills during a frenzy of that sort, but it’s too risky to get Osamu caught up in the collateral.

The witch that wanted to create the perfect weapon, failed. She failed because she underestimated the twins’ bonds for each other. She failed because the twins discovered that witches excrete a very special hormone in their body after climax, and it is exactly that substance that is slowly curing Atsumu. With every witch eaten and absorbed, Atsumu is healing and gaining magical powers. He is even capable of passing those essences to Osamu. One day, everything will be the way it's supposed to be.

Osamu plays with a few strands of Atsumu’s hair. Atsumu’s softened cock still buried inside of him. Atsumu has his jaw resting on Osamu’s shoulder.

“You make me feel so good,” Atsumu sighs, enjoying the quiet moments after his high.

“And what about her?” Osamu asks, gesturing to the table where your remains are still at.

“She made me feel good too. The best one yet, but don’t be jealous.”

“Come on, let’s clean up and get out of here.”

After washing their bodies and changing into clean clothes, Atsumu and Osamu are ready to say goodbye to the cottage they have overstayed their welcomes at.

"Let's go 'Samu, we're already behind." Atsumu finishes dumping the last bucket of oil along the edges of the room.

The clamor of boots stride across the creaking wood. As though with the passing of its owner, the cottage itself has lost the will to live.

"Coming," Osamu calls back, walking past the makeshift funeral pyre for you. He notices a flash on the ground and bends down to pick up a button.

"'Samu! Get the fuck out or I'll burn ya down too!"

"Yea, yea."

Osamu drops the button into his shirt pocket and joins his twin outside. Atsumu strikes a matchstick and tosses the small flame into the cottage. Fire meets oil and spreads in an instance, engulfing the cottage in an angry blend of orange and red, devouring all contents and remains within. The smell of scorched wood reaches the twins who are looking at the sight from a distance.

"She was good," Atsumu comments, looking at his twin unsure about what Osamu's grey eyes are thinking about. Atsumu realizes that he didn't specify what good exactly means. But it doesn't seem like Osamu is paying much attention. Is Osamu thinking about you? Is he unhappy? Does he regret what happened to you? Although what's done is done already, if time can go back, would Osamu choose? You or Atsumu?

Osamu slips his hand into Atsumu's, erasing the unspoken worries away. He gently leads Atsumu onto the trail, leaving the burning cottage behind.

"Stop thinking such nonsense," Osamu mutters, squeezing Atsumu's hand. No matter what happens, Atsumu will always come first. His needs, his desires. That's what it means for Osamu to love Atsumu. Even though the rest of the world may not understand the relationship the twins share, calling it depraved and disgusting, it's still selfless on their part. What sin is there to honestly love? What sin is there to try and save his loved ones?

While Osamu admits to himself that he does feel a deep attraction to you and knows that Atsumu feels the same pull as well, there's nothing that can be done about Atsumu's condition. But it's not as though you are completely gone. Your essences and core are within both twins, being absorbed as one with their bodies and soul. You'll forever be with them in that way, even if you no longer have any sentient memory of it.

Osamu fiddles the button in his pocket; there's still a physical reminder of you in that tiny form.

It must be about a twenty-minute trek from the burning site. Although the flames are already far from eyesight, the scorching smell and embers still drift over. The twins pick up their pace, eager to exit the forest before nightfall and make it to the next destination. On the way, they pass by the tree trunk with a wanted poster.

"They never get my best angles!" Atsumu complains, ripping a wanted poster that is nailed to the tree trunk.

"It's not like you have a good angle, ‘Tsumu."

"Shut it, we look the same ‘Samu. You're just calling yourself ugly too!"

Osamu shrugs and continues his trek down the main trail. Atsumu huffs, tearing the parchment into indistinguishable pieces before throwing the shreds up into the air like confetti.

"Wait up!"

Osamu stops in his tracks. "Hurry up, loser. We still have a long way to go."

Atsumu takes a few wide strides and swings his arm around his twin's shoulder. Behind them, a very light drizzle falls from the sky.