#1 Tim ch 3

[bc-maq24]

And today’s sermon totally squashed this. Needs to be reexamined.

But still, ps139:14 (I don’t need to be afraid of who I am because He made me and knows me, “good & bad”).

“Lead me to the cross…” 🎶

God, I do want to be led to the cross, and I do belong to You, but You made me, all my flaws and faults made in Your glory, and I don’t want to be rid of myself. I’m finally finding myself, and starting to genuinely love me, and grow. I do belong to you, but you made my individuality to shine bright in this world and be a beacon to others for your love. So guide me, please, guide my steps and words and works, but let me keep some individuality. Like Chad said last week, there’s no reconciliation for “Thy will be done” and the gift of free will. I still think You wrote every word on every page of my story, including the missteps, which you work with me to get past.

I still believe there’s a cooperation of sorts between God and His son Lucifer and Lucifer may have some influence in our stories but God will always prevail (more so for believers).

[z4rph1m]

Platonic Yan!batfam X dazai!reader X yandere dc

Tw: implication of sex (between reader & Chuuya), past mentions of self harm,

Forgotten child

Pro. Ch.1 Ch.2 (you are here) Ch.3

Nakahara Chuuya

Your former lover of the dark.

Why did the two of you broke up? He forgot, or maybe he just doesn’t want to remember.

He knew that the moment the two of you were in a relationship, it was unhealthy and toxic.

Maybe it’s the way you would ignore him the whole day but the moment you’re within his arms you’re a touch starve, hopelessly in love mess.

Or maybe the way he would be angry at you and try to guilt trip you into doing whatever he wants or the way you would purposely annoy him so that he would try and hurt you (he tried ask you to stop doing that)

But why exactly did the two of you stay together?

It’s simple, you two completed eachother perfectly.

Especially how fitting your abilities names are to describe the two of you.

You made him act like a human, he gave you a reason to live on.

“Are you the most beautiful human to me or to me, you’re the most beautiful human”

You stare at the empty space of your bed in longing, feeling as if there was something missing in your life.

The love marks surrounding your body, the lipstick mark on your bandages and the soft touches lingers around you.

Oh how you miss him.

You knew well that being with him was a terrible idea, especially with how aware you are to how much of a terrible person you are.

You know well you’re only using him to have the willingness to live yet the more you are with him, the more you crave for his touch.

That’s the reason why you broke up with him.

You hated how it felt, how it didn’t felt real to you. You wanted to save him the tears and pain, breaking off was maybe your only choice.

You remember well on how soft his kisses are on your scars, lips and all over your body.

Or how beautiful yours and his voice sounded together.

Maybe, just maybe under different circumstances the two of you could be together.

As much as you two stayed friends, the benefits can’t really be pass on.

“I can’t feel love, I will give you the love that you lack your whole life”

The more time Bruce walk through the hallway to your room, the more sense of guilt cover him.

Wilting flowers, spiders in cobwebs, empty vases and dust covering the paintings.

The side of the mansion that’s long been abandoned.

God how long did he let you live like this?

How long did he left you to live within the chilly and ghostly halls of the manor?

On the way to your room, the two passed by Dick and Tim, who seemingly curious on where they’re going.

“Hey Alfred, Bruce, where you’re going?” Dick in all his glory, having his usual smile while Tim with his eye bags and energy drink in his hand.

“We’re on our way to Master [N] room, which is just at the corner of this hallway”

There was a deafening silence, but at the same time it was accompanied by a presence of a lonely child.

The presence of a child that was useless to the family.

The silence kept on going until Tim voice spoke out.

“Are you sure you’re in the right way Alfred? The corner of the hallway looks as if it’s haunted”

“Yes Master Tim, they’ve been assign to that room after all”

Damian stare at the picture that’s laying at your table.

A picture of you and your mother.

Maybe it’s the only picture of you and her but it explains everything about your relationship with her.

You malnourished, eyes hold emptiness yet smiled so awkwardly at the camera, having just an oversized t-shirt and a shorts on, bandages free, happily in your mother arms.

Thats probably the only picture of you smiling.

Out of all the pictures that he sees in the album, the one where you’re under the care of Alfred, not his father.

You’re smiling with your mother, where you live a miserable and pitiful life.

What was it that was different or missing from this family that made you never smiled at least once?

In the past, he use to sneak into your room whenever it’s one of those days where you don’t come home.

Interested on why you look so….. depressing and On deathbed-like.

Yet as time goes by, he was interested in you by you’re nature.

Seeing your photos, art and diary (or at least what’s left of it).

He wanted to know more about you yet his pride and jealousy got in the way.

He wanted your attention yet he rejected the idea of even having a conversation with you.

Everything was fine until one day he sees the room clean and smell of fresheners.

That’s when he realized what he did.

He was too late- no, he can fix it.

He will get his older sibling back, he must.

God whoever this “Q” is will be the top of his list for taking what’s his.

He hold onto your childhood doll before tensing his body when the sound of creaking fills the room.

“Father, Alfred, Tim, Dick, what are you doing here?”

Inspired by @-acid-ixx Again & again series and @-marcyvamp1re-blog silly little bat

[luvly-writer]

Crimes of a Mother

Ch. 1: She’s our shadow

Batfamily x Reader

-•-

Author’s note: I did NOT think this story was gonna get amount of love it did because i’m so insecure about it but wow!!! Thank you so much!!! I truly am grateful for your love for this! Thank you Thank you!! I think it will become a short series so if you’d like to be added to the taglist, leave a message! Here’s chapter 1, Enjoy!!!

Warning: English is not my first language

Taglist: (i’m starting the taglist with the people who asked for a part two <3) @nxdxsworld @give-jack-a-lightsaber @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @can-i-feel @n4muar

Masterlist:

-•-

Subject name: Yn Wayne Salazar

Age: 18

Mother: Valentina Salazar (alias, the Golden Serpent)

Father: Bruce Wayne (alias, Batman)

Skills: High level of expertise on criminal investigation, Bilingual, Photographic memory...

Weaknesses: [empty folder]

Education: [CURRENTLY UNDERGOING] Bachelor in Criminal Journalism

Motive for investigating: ???

———

-“Nghhhh”

Bruce mutters as he leans back and rubs his eyes. The Batcomputer displayed a series of pictures and the beginning of a subject report on Yn. The last few weeks have been interesting to say the least. After her visit to the manor, everyone aside from Bruce and Alfred had been curious on who this unknown girl and had been trying to get either of them to spill on who she was. Normally, they would have let it go by now, they reason (lies) ; but after seeing Bruce and Alfred pale as a sheet of paper, they knew this wasn’t just another of Bruces small secrets

After much perstering, Bruce finally caved in. (Barbara found Vals note as she was managing the commns. He left it there after having to rush out and stop Tim from strangling Jason and Damian for lacing his coffee with a laxative. In their defense, they are trying different ways to help Tim get more sleep and lay off coffee. In Tim’s defense, he had to miss two days of patrol because his stomach wouldn’t hold anything...alas, the life of a single father)

To say that it caused a raucus withing the family is an understatement. Jason, Stephanie, and Tim couldn’t stop laughing about Bruce having another kid. Barbara and Cass were just glad they had another girl in the family. Dick was contemplating whether he wanted to leave or stay for the drama and risk meeting another version of Damian. Duke was trying to console Damian who stayed in catatonic shock for a few moments seeing as he had an actual blood sibling. Bruce had figured that if he had all of them on the lookout for her, she would be safer plus, they would be able to get the largest amount of information about her together. This had proven to be somewhat difficult seeing as Valentina had made sure to leave no trace of her their daughter’s existence in Gotham.

The following weeks after the debrief were anything but boring. They had been made aware that they had a shadow during patrol. Tim, familiar with the situation, had taken note of it first. Yn was good. She kept hidden, had the stamina to keep up, and most of the time could almost accurately predict their next move. One time, Tim, Dick, and Jason had decided to go on a coffee run in the middle of a stakeout. They hadn’t seen her all night and decided to leave Steph, Damian, and Duke in charge while they went and ordered. Lo and behold, there she was in a booth in the back sipping some coffee and typing on her laptop. They hadn’t thought anything of it seeing as this coffee shop normaly stayed open till late hours of the night due to its proximity to Gotham University and students constantly went to study there as classes had started. It wasn’t until Dick made eye contact with her that he felt chills down his spine. Her eyes were trained on them like a predator to its prey, still, unmoving, and absorving everything. He had called out to Jason and Tim; and once they turned to look ate her, she was unintimidated by the three figures, with her head leaning on one hand and her other holding her cup. She raised a delicate eyebrow at them and just stared. They figured the girl had her mothers looks but good grace, she was Bruce Wayne’s Daughter. To be more specific, she was the Dark Knight’s daughter and her eyes were a key give away of that. Not even Damian, with all his devil spawness, could recreate that piercing gaze.

It wasn’t only as vigilantes. She would be seen with a notebook in the back of Bruce’s conferences and interviews, eyes cold, calculating and focused as she observed and wrote down. It was known she was targeting Bruce and he didn’t know whether to feel some sort of twisted pride or to be concerned.

Back in the present, Bruce had never felt so frustrated. Why was this kid here? Was this a cruel trick of fate where she was destined to cross his path? Was he finally believing in something as simplish as fate and destiny? What was her investigation? What did she wanna know? How much did she know? Was she sleeping and eating? Were her grades slipping? In a moment of fatherly worry he hacked into Gotham's system and found her students bio. Classes had started two months ago...it really had been two months since he had met her? Her grades were perfect. Exams aced, projects and homework all As, she had taken a few college credits in high school so she had advanced in some of her classes and skipped the basics. She truly was brilliant.

-“I finally get a Wayne in university who has the intention of finishing it.”

Exclaimed Alfred as he walked closer and interrupted his thought process. (He would forever be salty that neither his “son” nor his “grandkids´” had gone or finished college.)

-“She's a brilliant kid.”

-“Well she ought to be. If I remember anything about her mother, I'd be worried if she wasn’t”

He corrects and Bruce scoffs a laugh.

-“She’s been tailing us for weeks, yet not a single bad score.”

-“It almost sounds as if you’re proud, master Bruce”

-“I....I barely know her”

-“Let’s fix that then, shall we? Invite her over for dinner with the family. It is a possibility that all the questions that have you perplexed may find their answer if you get to know her and she begins to trust you”

-"Couldn’t this just be an ordinary investigation without any attachment?"

-“That is your daughter, master Wayne. Better her to be here and protected than out there for her other family to find her and make a move first.”

-“Nghh”

-“Such a cooperative answer, I shall notify the rest.”

----

For all of her bravado, Yn was nervous. It had been two months and a half since she had stepped into the manor. Charlie and Taylor had told her encouraging words as she dropped them off at their respective practices and headed for the Wayne house. She had tried to dress nicely and make a better impression that last time. Had Mr. Wayne seen her at the conferences? Did he know of her nightly investigations? Was he gonna tell her mom?

She parked her car and stepped out. Would dressing up and acting nicer make her look guiltier? She walked up the stairs and pressed the doorbell. She was working so hard on understanding her family and it wouldnt go to waste because of some pissy billionare. She heard some footsteps walking towards the door. She was not going to give up today.

-“Hello, miss Salazar, it is great to see you again.”

---

Dinner had been going great so far. You had been introduced to all of them at once and began small chatter. Everyone had been somewhat pleasant with her, trying to make her feel at ease. She had chalked it up to Mr. Wayne fulfilling some sort of favor her mother had asked of him to protect her and this actittud had passed on to his kids.

-“So, Yn, why Gotham?”

Asked Dick, which made everyone turn to her

-“Yeah, why this dumpster fire of a city?”

Laughed Jason

-“Well -she laughed- I have always felt a connection to Gotham. Like as if something was missing and I knew I would find it here. Ever since I was a child, it had always been my mom and I only, no other immediate nor distant family members. Mom would never talk about the city even though she’s from here and it made me wonder why. I mean, feels like there's a huge part of me that I dont know about and I would like to, even if my mom advices against it constantly. What if I find family here, you know? There's something out there for me and I know it is here. Not only that, Gotham U has the best Criminal Forensics and Journalism departments ever. Of course..that can be because of the high profile of criminality and the amount of rougues running around. My mom tried to advise that Star City and even Metropolis would work but they aren’t Gotham, you know. They don’t have the history, the profile, the exentric rougues, the vigilantes. I mean, who is the Dark Knight? Why does he inspire so much fear? Is he a friend or someone who could potentially face a dark turn? What is his history with his sidekicks? Why so many? Are they human? A failed experiment? Cryptics? It is all fascinating, wouldn't you agree?

They all digested her answer. They all understood and and could relate to a certain level. Her determination was admirable.

-“That's actually...not a bad reason to move to Gotham”

Damian spoke up, surprising everyone. Yn smiled in approval and thanked him shyly.

-“When did you begin to have a passion for investigating?”

He asked again

-“Well, I guess I was too into crime shows? Plus being good at it certainly helps”

She laughs making the rest chuckle

Dinner finished shortly after. Everyone had decided to exchange social media handles and say their goodbyes. Bruce walks her to the door and speaks up,

-“Listen Yn, I am sorry about the thing about your father. I really ca-“

-“I know. You are a good man, Mr. Wayne. I am sorry for being too upfront that day, I tend to be too pushy sometimes during an investigation. I appretiate your respect and care for my mother a lot but...that still won’t stop me. I will find out who is my family.”

-“Well...seeing as nothing can hold you back, I just wanted to let you that our doors are always open for you. You are always welcomed into our family.”

She smiled at the sentiment and he could feel it pulling his heart strings. This is his kid, literally his. She is his daughter.

-“Thank you, Mr. Wayne”

She said as she started to walk to her car

-“One last thing...about your father”

Yn had never turned around so fast in her life

-“Yes?”

The hopeful look in her eyes made him take a step back and consider his words lightly

-“I think...I think he'd be very proud of you. You really are an extraordinary kid”

Seeing the hope fade a little killed him but it was better this way

-“You think so?”

-“I know so”

Her eyes watered a little but she held back. She gave him a nod and a tight smile

-“Goodnight, Mr. Wayne”

-“Goodnight, kid”

———•———•———

I am always open to feedback so remember to leave a comment or a reblogs if you have any suggestions, comments or just want to be added to the taglist!

[souliebird]

[[soulie's masterlist]]

Daredevil:

and then I met you [matt murdock x reader]

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

Season one:

ch: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 |16 | 17 | 18 | 19 |

20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25

Season 2:

ch: 26 | 27

coffee maker [matt murdrock x reader]

the coffee maker breaks

punish the wicked [matt murdock x reader]

the devil wants out

get low [matt murdock x ofc]

matt gets off early and he's not the only one

addict [matt murdock x reader]

your life revolves around matt. his doesn't revolve around you

Punisher

sugar skulls and altars [frank castle x ofc]

she makes him feel like Frank Castle

Kin (AMC)

last call for sinners [michael kinsella x reader]

The weight of the world feels like it is on Michael's shoulders and you are there to make sure he doesn't crumble under it

Batman

the man and then nothingness [tim drake]

He doesn’t want to be Nothing.

He runs and runs and runs and he doesn’t even know where he is going. Not until there is gravel under his feet and he’s flying past pristine hedges.

Wayne Manor is in front of him and Tim forces his legs to move Faster.

He knows he shouldn’t . He knows he shouldn’t - but between Nothing and Batman, Batman will probably win

---

Or: Tim Drake is 10 years old and really, really, needs an adult.

the multiverse series [tim drake x jason todd]

Jason Todd is traveling through the Multiverse and gets stuck in a world where he never died. He seeks out Tim Drake for help but this Tim is not what he expects at all.

A series of ficlets I wrote on Tumblr starting in 2015.

Random

winterwitch dog [bucky barnes x wanda maximoff]

some houses [ original work]

[torscrawls]

A Ghost by Any Other Name ch.3

You can read the whole story on AO3!

If you prefer tumblr: Chapter 1 can be found here. Chapter 2 can be found here.

---

Danny was big. Like seriously big, with a tall frame and wide shoulders, but Tim didn’t think he had been for very long. He still moved his body as if he wasn’t quite used to the size of it yet. Maybe Tim should have been intimidated, but he was too used to big enemies and siblings to really take notice. 

No, what he had taken notice of was the prosthesis making up the other's left arm. A prosthesis that Tim would bet his whole hidden stash of coffee in the Batcave was homemade, a fact that had spurred him to start talking with the guy when he had spotted him sitting alone at lunch.

A prosthesis that currently lay on the table between Tim and Danny where they sat in an otherwise empty room usually used for construction and prototype testing.

Tim hovered with his hands over the arm as he looked up at Danny and asked for the third time, “Are you sure?”

Danny nodded, straightening the liner covering his now exposed upper arm. “Yeah, man. I’ve been doing this solo ever since— well, since I got it. If you could help me work out some kinks that would be great!”

Tim let his hands fall to the prosthesis, tilting it this way and that to get a better look at it as he took in the patchwork of metal. He didn't have any trouble believing that no one else had worked on it as it was clearly cobbled together from whatever Danny had been able to find. The soldering was stable, but looked patchy from where it had been stretched thin to cover what it needed to.

It was an impressive piece of machinery to have been made by one person, even more so from what were clearly scrap-pieces, but if Tim was being honest the most impressive thing was that it moved at all.

Considering its weight, its many functions, and the length at which Danny could use it without charge, there was no known source that could possibly power it. 

Danny had given him some vague explanation of batteries, sustainable energy, self-sufficiency, and a whole lot of nonsensical buzzwords. Tim might not be an expert in prosthetics, but even he knew that it wasn't possible to have batteries big enough to sustain it for a whole day, and small enough to keep the arm as lightweight as it was.

“So,” Tim said as he placed the arm back on the table. “What do you need help with?”

Danny looked up from where he was fiddling with the fingers of the prosthesis. “I can’t get the thumb to move but I'm thinking of adding something to make the articulation of the fingers better, so if you have any ideas about that I would love to hear it.” He perked up, “Oh! I also need to make it lighter, I think, so that I can keep it on for the whole day. It’s starting to become too heavy for me.” Danny gave a strained laugh. “Not getting any younger, you know?”

Tim didn't buy the excuse of age, Danny wasn't old by any means and he certainly was big enough to be able to support the weight, but he had noted that Danny didn't use the arm every day. Which meant that there was another reason for it. 

“Is this related to your… Illness?” Tim asked carefully.

Danny didn’t answer. Which in itself was answer enough.

“Can I ask… What it is?”

He really didn’t want to pry, but maybe Danny didn’t seek out treatment because he lacked the money for it. If so, Tim found that he wanted to help. “If it’s a question of money, then I can—”

“It’s not,” Danny cut him off. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

“Alright.” Tim dropped the subject as he reached for a small, closed hatch at the underside of the arm. “What’s this part? The power source, right?”

He had just managed to get it open an inch, peeking inside to see something glowing green when Danny snapped the lid shut with a harsh, “Don't touch that.”

Tim held up his hand in a gesture of surrender. “Sorry.”

Danny kept his eyes narrowed and fixed on Tim a second longer, but then relaxed. “No, I'm sorry. I just—It feels personal, okay?”

“Hey, no worries. I get it,” Tim assured him, trying to curb his own curiosity by reminding himself to feel grateful that Danny had trusted him enough to let him work on the arm to begin with. “Thanks for letting me take a look at it.”

“I know it’s not much,” Danny said self-consciously.

It was, but Tim understood what he meant; understood the frustration of being restricted by material things. Tim would love to see what Danny could do with better materials, and there were some benefits to being the son of the richest guy in town. 

“I might have some materials lying around, if you're interested. And I might have an idea about that thumb.”

Danny's whole face lit up.

Tim realized that they were actually starting to become friends. Wish meant that there was only one thing he could do in this situation.

——

Tim scanned the results of the background check he had just completed on Danny.

He had come up clean. Almost too clean. But he also came from a small city in the middle of nowhere; maybe there hadn’t been that many opportunities to get into trouble in Amity Park.

Tim had found no signs that Danny was in any way out to get them, which was great since Tim really didn’t have the time and energy to fight some new villain pretending to be his work-friend and coffee-buddy. His heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

He did trust in Wayne Enterprise’s HR-department (and security department’s) ability to screen new employees but since he had started to run into Danny more often he wanted to investigate himself. But to his surprise, those accidental meetings seemed to just be actually accidental. So even if Tim had been burned one too many times, Danny was starting to look like an actually nice guy. No matter his big size, slightly uncanny looks, and cobbled together technology. The villains can’t get all the cool people, Tim thought smugly and found that he was more relieved than he wanted to admit that Danny had come up clean.

“A new friend?” Dick asked with a raised eyebrow and an infuriating smirk as he leaned over the back of Tim’s chair to get a better look at the screen.

“A colleague,” Tim corrected distractedly as he scanned the documents.

Danny almost seemed too perfect; a friend factory-made to suit Tim.

He liked coffee, he was witty, not afraid to tease him even though Tim was his boss, quick-witted, and had a big interest in technology and inventions. A fact that was proven in his work as well as his prosthetic arm.

In truth, Tim had already started to sneak Danny some projects under the table. Not bat-classed project, but… Maybe some personal things he had under development and would like a second pair of eyes on. And Danny’s insights had proven to be invaluable. Tim looked over his shoulder at the still-smirking Dick. Danny was also non-judgmental and non-infuriating, in contrast to certain other people that should not be named.

As if hearing his thoughts, Dick laughed and nudged his shoulder. “This is a thorough check for a colleague.”

Tim averted his eyes. Maybe it had been longer than he thought since he made a normal friend.

Dick smiled. “I’m glad it came up clean. You could really need some more friends.” 

Dick ignored Tim’s outraged “Hey!” as he scanned over the document before pausing with a frown. “Amity Park? Where's that?”

“No idea.” Tim clicked away on the computer. “Apparently a small town that mostly makes its living as a tourist trap. And their draw is…” Tim trailed off as he digested the last word before exclaiming, “Seriously?!”

Dick leaned in. “What?”

“Ghosts. The whole town claims to be haunted by ghosts.”

“Alright? That's eccentric, but it's not that strange.”

“No, it's just…” Tim dragged a hand through his hair. “It's the second time lately that ghosts have come up.”

And he really didn't want to associate Danny with the two lunatics from a couple of months ago.

“Well, maybe it’s a sign that you should change careers and become a ghost hunter! Can you imagine? A superhero ghosthunter!” Dick laughed and punched him in his shoulder.

Tim snorted and swatted at him. They were really lucky that ghosts weren't real.

——

Of course, after foolishly tempting fate, ghosts stayed not real for far shorter than Tim would have preferred. It wasn’t even a month later when his entire worldview reoriented itself (and really, he should be used to that by now) as that belief died and didn’t come back to life. Which seemed to be a rarity all of a sudden.

At first, they hadn't realized what they were; seemingly harmless and, most unsettlingly, impossible to catch. The blobby apparition had fazed through any and all containment devices they had tried to capture them in, and more often than not they hadn't even been able to touch them. None of their sensors worked, just spouting nonsense readings that fluctuated wildly.

The blobs were hard to handle but thankfully they weren't very destructive since they mostly caused confusion and some accidents brought on by gawking bystanders.They weren’t really attacking anyone—yet, the cynical part of Tim’s mind added—but they were causing enough of a panic to be a problem.

Thankfully, Gothamites generally knew to keep well away from new and unknown possible threats.

The real problem was that they had no idea what they were dealing with and no idea on how to make it go away, but overall Gotham’s green and glowing new decor didn’t really take president over all the daily attacks from both villains and normal criminals.

Tim had foolishly (once again, damn it Tim) believed that was it.

And then he got a message on his communicator masquerading as a cellphone summoning him to the cave for a new type of threat. Tim straightened up from where he had been sprawled over Danny's sagging armchair. “I'm sorry, I have to go. Something came up.”

“Oh?” Danny looked up, eyes immediately jumping from the video game on the TV to Tim. “You okay?”

Tim waved him off, feeling a bit guilty at the clear worry on his friend's face. “Yeah, yeah, nothing bad. Just… A family thing.”

Danny grimaced and Tim guessed he'd had his fair share of family things. He let go of the controller in his right hand, instead grabbing at his prosthetic left, rubbing at it as if in pain.

Tim got to his feet. “It was nice hanging out though. Same time next week?”

Danny's grimace immediately turned into a smile and even though it looked genuine, there was something strained at the corners. “Sure! Good luck with the family.”

There was real fear there, barely visible under the happiness. Tim reluctantly discarded the observation, reminding himself that his friend wasn't a mystery for him to solve. “Thanks. Good luck with the boss without me.”

Danny laughed and shucked a pillow at him. “As if your so-called skills make any difference.”

Tim ducked the soft projectile with a smile before leaving, mind already focusing on what new threat could have come up for him to be called in on one of his few nights off.

Said threat turned out to be an intangible, periodically invisible, glowing, and floating villain. All of those characteristics wouldn’t necessarily lead Tim to the conclusion that he was facing off against a ghost—Gotham was filled with a lot of weird people with even weirder powers—but what sealed the deal was the fact that this new villain just wouldn’t shut up about being one. The ghost of boxes, to be more specific.

Tim would say that he had higher hopes for his own afterlife, but who was he to judge?

And, sure, if that had been the end of it then maybe the easiest answer would have been that they were facing off against a man with very specific interests and an unfortunate chemical accident in his recent past (it had happened before, more than once) but now they were staring down a new villain every other week. All of them proudly proclaiming themselves to be ghosts, and all of them freaking every sensor and scan the Bats threw at them the fuck out.

So ghosts. Were apparently a thing.

Tim wished he was more surprised than he was.

So far, most ghost attacks would stop seemingly by themselves. The ghost in question would be mid-rant and mid-destruction, only for them to suddenly pause, eyes wide. Every time this happened, the ghost’s focus was directed at the group of innocent civilians unwisely trying to catch a glimpse of the action that always accumulated during attacks that weren't too destructive. Their leading theory was that the ghosts were simply scared of the living.

Which was lucky, because the ghosts were both frighteningly strong as well as too many for comfort. Tim was desperately looking for more dependable ways of combating them, but so far he had come up with nothing.

It was hard to fight an enemy you couldn't touch and they weren't used to feeling so powerless.

Which also meant that the small and round creatures that shared all the characteristics of the bigger ghosts, except for the fact that they were shaped more like jelly than people, were also—more than likely—ghosts. It had taken them a frankly embarrassing amount of time to reach that conclusion. Yes, Tim was well aware that Bruce was a world-known detective and that he himself was a genius. No, neither of them had mentioned this slow deduction to anyone.

All of this led up to Tim stumbling into work on a Wednesday, definitely late and definitely operating on way too little sleep. They had all stayed up late yesterday (or maybe it was today? It was hard to even think) facing off against a ghost that claimed to be able to control technology. Okay, facing off might have been an exaggeration. The truth of the matter was that they had ran. The risk of an unknown villain, someone with largely unknown powers and unknown motivations, getting into their tech had been enough of a threat to warrant a tactical retreat.

Which had proven to be a good choice since not even half an hour later there was an attack on their servers. And then another. And another. All of them seemingly from the same source. They had taken readings and scanned everything five times over, but the source of the attack seemed to adapt and change and move in a way that was almost… conscious.

Tim would swear off coffee forever if it turned out not to be the ghost that claimed to be able to control technology. They had been able to stay on top of the attacks but only barely, which was very worrying considering their top-of the line and frankly absurdly paranoid firewalls and assorted protections, as well as the fact that they had, well, Tim on their side.

He promised to never mock Bruce and his paranoid precautions again. At least for a week.

Thankfully they managed to contain the possible (probable) ghost in one of the computers stored in the basement by continuously upgrading and changing their fire walls. But this thing was learning and adapting faster than they could keep up with. It was only a matter of time before it broke out.

Too bad they had no idea who to reach out to. Or even where to start looking for a person who specialized in supernatural possession of computers. The science of ghost hunting didn’t exactly amass reputable scientists and inventors, or if it did, they were probably laying low so as to not get lumped in together with their more… eccentric colleagues. Understandably.

Which meant that trying to find a reputable expert on ghosts was as impossible as grabbing a hold of the ghosts themselves. But Tim knew that he would never be lucky enough for an expert to just stumble into his life, so they kept on searching.

So. No sleep. A whole work-day in front of him. If only he didn't have to keep up appearances. 

Tim tried to keep a brave face and go about his normal duties in his day job and nightly activities, but the threat hung heavy over his head. As well as the lack of sleep, but that didn’t feel as heroic.

Thankfully, his tiredness seemed to act as a homing beacon for his new friend and before he even sat down at his lunch table, Danny was there with two extra-large coffees.

Tim accepted one of them with teary eyes. “You’re a life-saver.”

Danny laughed. “At least I can keep you from joining me.”

And Danny did look tired. He always did.

He was holding his own coffee in his shaking right hand. Apparently the little tweaks and upgrades they had made on the arm hadn’t been enough to make it as reliable as he had wanted, if Danny chose not to use it. Instead it was hanging at his side, looking a little less cobbled together with a new top-plate and Tim felt happy knowing that Danny had taken him up on using the materials.

Tim had started to be able to anticipate what kind of day it was going to be just from how Danny held himself and today didn’t seem like a good one. He was still unsure of what exactly was wrong with his friend, but he was scared to ask again and risk offending him. Their relationship was still too new.

So Tim sipped his coffee and simply said, “I appreciate you keeping me alive.”

“We don’t need any more ghosts,” Danny muttered under his breath and took a sip from his own coffee.

The comment made Tim’s exhausted brain suddenly remember that Danny came from a town known for being haunted. It was a slim chance—since it probably was a cheap way of luring in tourists—but maybe Danny had some insights that could help them with the newly appeared ghosts. And especially the one trapped in the computer in the basement.

The only problem being that Danny had never revealed where he was from and Tim couldn't very well admit to doing a background check on him. That would probably ruin the mood since he was fairly certain that wasn't normal behavior between friends. Admittedly his perspective on what was normal or not was pretty skewed; something his siblings never hesitated to point out to him. Which was true, but they really didn't have a leg to stand on when it came to being normal. 

Tim made sure he sounded casual as he tapped the logo on his coffee cup and asked, “Hey, do they have Crabby Coffee where you’re from?”

Danny paused, something suspicious in his eyes. Then he smiled and asked in an almost casual tone of voice, “What, you don't believe I'm a local?”

Tim snorted. “You asked me if Arkham was an arcade just last week. Besides, you don’t have the right accent.”

“Fair,” Danny allowed with a shrug and a grin that was only slightly strained at the edges.

“So...?”

“I’m from Amity Park,” Danny said in a way that indicated that he didn’t like the fact, mumbling the last words as he looked away from Tim

Tim pretended to be surprised. “Amity? Never heard of it. Is it known for anything special?” And then he almost winced at his own clumsy and obvious fishing for information. Bruce would be so disappointed if he saw this. Okay, maybe he was more sleep-deprived than he thought.

It was lucky that Danny seemed distracted by some sort of inner conflict as he shuffled from foot to foot, not meeting Tim's gaze. “Well… It's a tourist thing…”

“Oh? Like what?” And now Tim was interested why Danny seemed so hesitant to share. Not a mystery, Tim reminded himself.

Danny deflated, looking defeated. “It's ghosts.” Then he switched to the overly-enthusiastic way of speaking inherent to all slogans, clearly mimicking some commercial, “Come on down to America's most haunted town! Guaranteed to scare the ghost right out of you!” and then in a fast paced mutter, “The city of Amity Park is not liable to retrieve any ghosts that decide to leave their bodies during your visit.”

Score.

“That's so cool!” Tim didn't even have to fake his interest as he asked, “Was it really? Haunted?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Danny hedged.

Tim gestured at Danny with his coffee cup. “I'm asking you.”

Danny paused with a worried frown on his face that he quickly tried to hide, looking at Tim intently as if he tried to work something out. Then he shook his head and simply said, “No.”

And it was the first time Tim had detected a lie from his new friend. Which meant that he did know something. Tim felt himself get excited at the prospect of a challenge, a mystery, and this time it was connected to their current problems which meant that it was fair game. He finally had a lead and he refused to let it go.

Why would Danny lie about his town being haunted? Was he scared of being made fun of? Didn’t he think that Tim would believe him? Ghosts was a rather eccentric thing for your town to be known for, maybe he had been ridiculed before.

Or maybe, a more jaded part of his brain supplied, he had been threatened to not say anything. Maybe he was hiding something.

Maybe Tim would have to show him some things related to ghosts and see how he reacted sooner rather than later.

“You sure?”

“Yes. It's not haunted.”

“Ah, so it's just a tourist trap, then? To make money?” Tim asked, trying to keep the excited interest out of his voice, trying to keep the conversation casual.

Danny wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Yeah, but it's nothing special. Just like any small town, you know?”

“Some people always take it a bit more seriously, right? There's always some believers,” Tim fished for more information. In every tourist attraction that claimed to be the home of Bigfoot or Mothman there was always someone who actually believed in what they were selling.

And if they believed, maybe they had some real information. Maybe even ways of combating them.

“Yeah, sure. There's those that believe and even—” Danny paused, swallowed, and then said, with real anger in his voice, “even some nut jobs that claim to study ghosts.”

Some people were studying ghosts? Tim made a mental note to look into them.

Danny cleared his throat as if embarrassed by his outburst and asked, “Do you believe in ghosts?”

Tim allowed the subject-change, not willing to push it and risk Danny suspecting him. “Haven’t you seen all the new villains on the news? They look kinda ghostly, don’t they?”

“Most newspapers write about them as if they’re a new kind of meta-humans.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Tim shrugged. “But I don’t think ghosts would be much stranger.”

“You’re not scared?” Danny asked, a puzzled expression on his face.

“Of course!” Tim laughed. “But I don’t see why they would be more dangerous just because they’re dead. If anything, that only shows that they’ve already been killed once!”

Danny smiled at that and Tim took it as a win. His new friend might not feel comfortable opening up about everything just yet, but at least he could show that he’s open to talking about it when he was.

[mw4n]

Should ¥XX,000,000 Make Fushiguro's Shit Worth It? - ch. 2

༄ synopsis - Being Toji Fushiguro's in-house private solicitor may pay well, but recently you're reconsidering if the pay makes all the stress (read: Toji himself) worth it. At this point, with all the less-than-legal actions Toji commits on the regular, you're practically a certified mob lawyer. [ full synopsis ]

༄ series tags - toji fushiguro x reader; lawyer! reader; no curses; yakuza/organised crime; violence; explicit content; dilf! toji; tags to be added

༄ wc - 5.2k

<< ch. 1 || ch. 3 >>

( う-´)づ︻╦̵̵̿╤── \(˚☐˚”)/

It’s times like these where your brain disobediently begins to wander to relatively unimportant matters, like the chances of someone in the office accessing the printer history and seeing that you’ve freshly printed a document conspicuously labelled ‘CV - final.docx’ under your printing account.

Then, your brain starts to think about the chances of them bringing that up with your boss, and how embarrassing it’ll be if this falls through. 

If it was any other office, you’d say that those chances would be slim - if not flat out impossible. But your mind drifts further towards Usui, whose cubicle is parked right next to the printing room and has been known to snoop in the printer history when he’s bored.

That was how he found out one of your colleagues had been using the printer to print advertisements for their brother’s business: more than 90 flyers. 

Honestly, what kind of hobby is that? Browsing the printer history?

You purse your lips with annoyance at the thought, unaware that the slight movement has caught Fushiguro’s attention.

He pauses from his perusal of your CV - even the manner in how he scans your paper, one handed and casual, seems hot (insert dreamy sigh) - watching you silently over the top of the page. 

Finally, he speaks up.

“Something the issue?” The voice settles around you. The background noise dulls amidst the washing in your ears. 

Any concerns about Usui dematerialise and you snap to attention, not unlike a soldier before their superior.

“Not at all, Mr. Fushiguro. Take your time.” 

He hums, lowering back to your CV. It’s taking him longer than expected, but despite your shitty job, your CV is relatively impressive. It seems he also notices.

“So, Y/N, this is all well and good,” he sets it down, spinning it on the table to face you. He’s conjured a pen from somewhere and is using the back of it to tap at a particular set of words, “but what I want to know is why someone who graduated near top of her class from Kyoto University, excellent marks and sponsored by an international law firm, is doing at your current company and not… there.” 

The pen nib clicks onto paper and circles around the name of the firm. 

Is he even allowed to ask this? 

You stare down at it. It’s just a couple words - it doesn’t even take up that much space on the paper, but it had felt huge for the few months it occupied in your life. 

You’re not surprised he’s asking. If you were on the other side, interviewing a candidate, you would ask too.

The events of last year run through your mind, scenes rapidly unfurling. The sights, smell, sounds flood into you briefly. You resist the urge to withdraw and squeeze your eyes shut, settling for digging your nails into your palms under the table instead.

A scale sits inside your mind, weighing the choices. Either lay low, make up some reason, or be honest and risk… his disdain. 

The thought that he, like the others, would just dismiss you and think of you as another liar, presses against your chest suffocatingly. You can’t put your finger on why it would upset you so much.

So what if he doesn’t believe you? Worst comes to worst, you just go back to your cubicle and continue working. Nothing changes. The world goes on. 

You’re aware that the silence has stretched on a tad longer than it should’ve, yet Fushiguro doesn’t speak.

He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. (He’s wearing a loose cream sweater this time, of which you suspect is designer. It’s got these irregular and obtrusive stitches at the cuffs and hem, but the rest of the make is constructed so well that those have to be deliberate design.) 

“I… did go to that firm, actually. I received the offer shortly after my undergrad and it was only with their help that I was able to pay for most of law school,” your voice dries up at the next part. You hem, taking a sip of water. “But it was during one of my training days there, right before I was set to graduate, where I ran into some trouble in the firm and… was terminated. Due to the sensitivity of what happened, they settled for just revoking my place and the last tuition payment.”

You weren’t blacklisted, per se, but it didn’t exactly help that the people involved in the ‘trouble’ were pretty well connected. 

He’s not stupid. Judging by how cautiously you’re speaking about it, he knows it would be fruitless to prod any further. 

“Are you not allowed to speak of it?” 

Your face remains stiff, betraying no emotion. “I wouldn’t really want to.”

If he decides to take back his offer because of this, you wouldn’t really blame him per se. You’re not exactly forthcoming with the details, and that could be a risk in itself depending on the job. 

“Hm…” Fushiguro scans the name of the firm on your CV, imprinting it in his memory. Though he’s not the most well-versed in the legal field, being involved in a completely different industry of work, the name feels familiar.

You watch him, almost cautiously. His face is unreadable. 

Your heart sinks. 

-

“Do you have any questions?”

You blink - the only indication of surprise you’ll allow yourself. Have you passed some kind of stage? Successfully, at that? 

Regaining your mental composure, you sit up straighter, hands folding neatly in your lap and knees pressing against one another. 

“For… you?”

There’s an amused lilt along his lip. The lip, which you notice, has a pale scar in the end. You wonder if that feels different than the rest of his skin. Probably.

“Yes, for me.” Though he’s not smiling, you can feel some smirk-like energy emanating off him. 

“Ah, I was mainly wondering what kind of work you’re involved in. What would I mainly be required to do?” 

You can’t lie, you’re curious on why he’s decided to extend an offer, an extremely generous one at that, to you in the first place, given your relatively limited interaction with him. 

“That…” this time, he’s the one who looks a little troubled. “It’s mainly just small things. Representing me when some clients try to sue my business, or if something happens with Megumi again, I can rest assured knowing that he’ll have someone to contact that knows what they’re doing. Just in case the brat runs into some… problems.”

Your brows furrow. “Typically, Mr. Fushiguro, paying someone to be your exclusive lawyer is quite a big deal-”

He flaps a hand, “if it’s the money you’re worried about, don’t be. I’ll compensate you satisfactorily.”

“I am worried about the money, but not my salary. With all due respect, Mr. Fushiguro, what kind of business do you run that allows you to pay so generously and require a lawyer?” You hesitate before saying this next part, but this interview has been relatively informal from the start and - again, if anything goes wrong, you’ll just go back to your tedious office job again. “And… what made you consider me as a candidate?”

“My business details will be confidential. But I call it that just for tax reasons, it’s essentially just me being a freelancer. As for why you…” Mr. Fushiguro leans back, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “... instinct?”

…

That answer was barely a step up from him saying ‘your looks’, and was hardly reassuring. You don’t get the sense that he’s as generous with details as he is with your future salary though. 

He must see the hesitant expression and deigns to elaborate. Though not much.

“Trust me, and in my line of work, instinct… is the difference between-” he raises a hand, drawing a line high, “-and here.” His hand plummets lower.

Heaven and hell. 

The reminder of your salary makes you swallow the rest of the questions back. No matter what hellish conditions he proposes or how hard he works you or how suspicious this is all beginning to sound… ¥XX,000,000 is a crazy number that lowers any inhibitions. 

An angel on your shoulder pipes up. But… what if he requires you to be on call 24/7? 

The devil on the opposite side smashes the thought with ‘¥XX,000,000’.

What if his personality as a boss ends up to be the absolute worst - worse than your current one! 

¥XX,000,000.

What if his work is… illegal?

You grit your teeth. 

¥XX,000,000!!!!!

That’s one, two, three, four, five, SIX zeroes at the end of that! 

The social media jokes about would you suck your bros dick for 20 dollars runs through your mind. That’s 20 dollars. Imagine this?

"And is the money… legal?” You feel hesitant asking this, worried if that’s an affront to his character.

He raises an eyebrow. “Say, how big of a concern would you say that is for you?”

our shock probably condenses too visibly, judging by the large guffaws that begin belting out of Fushiguro.

As you walk back to the office, your iced coffee barely touched and gripped in your hand (he had been smart to order both your drinks as takeaway, it seems), you feel dazed.

The concrete under your high-heeled pumps feels closer to clouds and a heaviness you hadn’t even known had been weighing on you feels lifted. 

The next steps logically present in front of you. You’ll have to type and present your two weeks notice to your boss, but Fushiguro said you’d be on call starting after this weekend.

That meant for your last week at work, you’d be working for Fushiguro - essentially two jobs at once. He hadn’t been the most forthcoming with details, but you hadn’t either with your past. And it seemed like his requirements weren’t that much.

Besides, it was just him and Megumi. Even though you were just one person, how much work could there be? 

You can’t even help but smugly think to yourself: this might be the easiest ¥XX,000,000 anyone’s ever made. 

(The you in the future can only look back at your naive self and sigh.)

--

The first time Fushiguro employs your services, he only texts you a location pin with four words. (‘My office. One hour.’) The notification catches your attention right as you step into the carriage of a packed train car, along with the rest of the 5PM rush, causing you to pivot directly on the heel and wrestle your way out. Apologising profusely to the others ,you have no choice.

You had just gotten off of work (it was still your last week in your crappy law firm) but Fushiguro had already told you at the informal ‘interview’ of the possibility of being contacted after the weekend. For that salary, you had no complaints of working two jobs for a week.

Judging from this text message and your first texting conversation, you can already feel that Fushiguro has a very identifiable no-nonsense minimalistic style. The lack of detail in his messages makes you want to grit your teeth, but there’s nothing you can do but squeeze into a different train line – enduring the disgruntled puffs and stares from the other sardined-crammed salary dogs eager to get home.

As you persist through the side-eyes from a couple of the older students, you reflect on that location pin. Why does his office location seem familiar?

It’s only when you step off the bus and approach the looming black gate, complete with two robust security cameras, that you realise that his office location is literally just his house.

Or at least, it’s the location that Megumi had you drop him off at a few weeks ago when he had busted his bike AND your car. The car, of which, was still getting serviced.

You had half a mind that the mechanic was an extreme slacker and had already resolved to never go to him again for any issues. Sure, the damage wasn’t small but did it really warrant more than three weeks in the shop?

Maybe you just didn’t know that much about cars.

Keeping your face as impassive as possible, you approach the intercom at the side of the gate and shoot a text to Fushiguro.

I’m here. What floor?

The message blueticks but no notice of him typing shows up. You furrow your brow, your thumbs hovering over the keyboard to follow up, when an abrupt grating noise causes you to jolt a foot in the air.

The black gate slides open a hair – its automatic – and you walk in.

Sidewalk-height embedded floor lamps light up the path to a two-story tall lofty glass lobby and carefully maintained shrubbery and foliage decorate the road in. The road stretches towards an underground carpark, but you just beeline to the lobby.

Everything about this gated community exudes wealth. If you had any doubts of Fushiguro’s ability to follow through with ¥XX,000,000, you don’t now.

Your phone dings again.

45.

You quickly text back asking for what flat, but upon pressing forty-five into the intercom, the lobby door opens automatically as well without having to input the corresponding flat letter.

A thought fills you.

There’s no way…

Indeed, Fushiguro’s apartment occupied the entirety of the forty-fifth floor. At this point, having seen the apartment complex and even how fast the elevator had jetted up all the way, your heart feels dead to the splendour of the rich. Instead you can only wonder what exactly does Fushiguro do?

The apartment door is partially ajar, light spilling into the dim lift-area, but you knock regardless.

A voice–distinctly not Fushiguro–rings out. “Come in.”

It’s Megumi.

You push open the door and the warm light of the setting sun fills your vision: floor to ceiling glass windows, the largest living room you’ve seen in Tokyo yet and a wall-mounted screen of the biggest TV you’ve seen ever depicting a split-screen game of Kirby beating the shit out of Ryu from Streetfighter going ham.

Where the fuck does Fushiguro get his money from?

You had been happy at the sound of ¥XX,000,000 but seeing the wealth is much different than merely hearing about it. The joke he made at the interview – “Say, how big of a concern would you say that (the legality of the money) is for you?” – is beginning to feel less like a joke and more like an omen that your money blinded eyes had missed!

Who jokes like that?

You had even googled Fushiguro online but had found no mention of any rich man with that last name!

Well, that wasn’t true, but the photo that had come up was definitely not the Fushiguro you knew. Some professor who lived randomly in Hokkaido. No one who could plausibly match the scale of the wealth you’re seeing and the name ‘Fushiguro’ had shown up with your research.

You’re apprehensive, but you’ve already walked into the mouth of the tiger. Might as well wander further in. Or however the saying goes.

Was that even a saying?

“Hello,” you slip off your heels, soles crying with relief at the action, and greet Megumi. “Is Fushiguro in?”

Megumi turns around, blinking in acknowledgment of your presence. “Dad…? Ah, he did say you were stopping by. He’s in his office upstairs.”

Up…stairs?

Stairs? In Tokyo?

Comically, you slowly turn to see the wooden spiral staircase that leads to a partial second floor that overlooks the massive downstairs open-space living room and kitchen area you’re in.

“Ack-!” A strangled cry catches your attention as some explosion unfurls on the screen in the corner of your eye.

It’s at this moment that you realise another teenager you know is sitting cross-legged next to Megumi. Tongue sticking out of his mouth in extreme concentration, Itadori’s slamming his thumbs onto the controller.

Your gaze pans to the screen.

“Who’s winning?”

The Kirby is clearly wiping the floor with Ryu.

You were a little surprised that Itadori was better at videogames then Megumi bu-

“Me, of course,” Megumi scoffs, haughtily, stopping your train of thought.

Megumi is Kirby?

You flick back to Megumi’s spiky hair and cold demeanour. Itadori’s sunshine smile. The cute, round and pink Kirby. The macho buff Ryu.

Maybe it does make more sense that Itadori would play a manly-masculine figure like Ryu.

Megumi as Kirby though?

Feeling like your characterisation of him has been momentarily subverted, you can only respond with an empty-headed “ah,” before you pad up the spiral staircase to find the office.

Fushiguro is engrossed on his laptop, an annoyed expression on his face, when you knock.

He skips the pleasantries, not even acknowledging that you’re fifteen minutes early, despite the fact you had literally hauled ass across Tokyo to get here without a car and during the 5PM off-work rush, and gets to it.

“I need you to do something for me,” he sighs, leaning back and pinching his brow. He directs a palm to the chair in front of him, so you naturally take a seat.

You slide a hand into your tote and pull out a small notepad, ready to take notes. “Yes?”

Fushiguro rubs his chin. “I need you to… silence someone for me.”

Your stomach drops.

A beat passes.

You clear your throat. You hadn’t exactly been clear about your employable services, and this… coupled with the wealth and mysteriousness that he’s been engaging… “What, exactly, do you mean by silence?”

Your voice sounds a little pinched. Anyone would in this situation.

He chuckles. That feels like a death knell.

“Literally.” There’s a roaring sound in your head. A million versions of tiny yous scream in panic around your mental scape, upending neurons and dragging their tiny nano-nails down your mycelium-wrapped cells. “There’s this woman that… I’ve had some history with, and she’s been yapping some falsities about me. Shut her up for me.”

You feel like an employed thug.

Shut her up.

Your mental image of yourself shifts from your beautiful, well-put together, but admittedly tired looking body to a broad shouldered, beefy moustached henchman. One wearing a wife-beater and yups ‘yes, boss!’ at every remark.

You look down at your hands. These hands weren’t built for tying the ropes around wailing victims in warehouses! These hands were built for typing on keyboards, gripping iced drinks, and spending hours writing on paper!

The image of the moustached henchman you comes to mind again.

You shudder.

A premonition, perhaps.

“You’ll need to be a little clearer. What do you mean by history with? Who is this woman? What falsities? And what do you mean by shut her up?” The last part comes out sounding near desperate.

Fushiguro looks to the side. At the time, you hadn’t known it, but looking back at it… that was a tell-tale mark that he was embarrassed. Maybe even he hadn’t anticipated that your first job from him was for this.

After a couple more minutes of what could only be described as ‘prodding’, you finally extract the situation from Fushiguro. The most painful prodding of your life. You had never known a client requesting help to be so difficult. Usually, they wanted to provide more details for you to get rid of the problem! None of this looking away, humming, twiddling thumb business.

It’s a hook-up. He’s telling you to get a hook-up to stop pestering him and spreading information about him. The same speechless feeling you had when you had seen the casual display of wealth from his house comes back again.

Does a hook-up really need to be silenced? Is blocking her not enough?

You scratch out that last thought. With your newest data on Fushiguro’s personality (this face-to-face meeting so far) it was unlikely he had her number to begin with.

Whatever.

For the sake of that ¥XX,000,000 you’ll just deal.

“Do.. do you remember her name?”

Trying to get helpful information out of Fushiguro feels like trying to cradle a wiggling cat.

“Nah.” He tosses a grape into his mouth, biting down with a crunch. The bowl of grapes had been produced out of nowhere it seems, suddenly spawning into his hand as he leisurely munches away. With every crunch of the fruit under his pearly-whites, you can hear the number of hours you’ll have to spend searching for this woman ticking up.

Had you really graduated law school for this…

“Do you remember what she looked like?”

He leans back in his office chair at a terrifying angle, thumbing at the scar at his lip absentmindedly. You feel a little ray of hope. He hmms. A sign of him thinking, surely-

“Blonde.”

A couple seconds go by before you realise that’s all the information he’s got (or willing to give you).

You know better than to ask if she had long hair or short. With how hard he had to dig in there – by ‘there’, you mean his head, of course – you were probably lucky to even get blonde from the empty expanse in the end.

You pitied the woman he had so heartlessly forgotten.

Clearly she couldn’t let him go if she was still yapping information, fake or not, about him.

“How long ago was this?”

He pulls up his calendar on his computer, squinting.

“Not sure. Could be a week. Two weeks. Three. A month.”

I can’t believe this man!

You sigh, deciding to put your foot down. This is the first task from him, and you’re fearful that this is going to let a scary precedent build.

“Sir, you do know I’m not a private investigator, right? You might be better off hiring an actual P.I for this.”

Fushiguro narrows his eyes like a cat, the edges of his lips flicking up.

He opens his mouth. A stream of unidentifiable numbers falls out, injecting energy into your brain with every increased digit.

“….!@#(% yen.”

That’s all he says, and that’s all it takes for your bending spine to crack straight. The countless hours calculated to do this job vanish in lieu of a big plastic beam on your face.

“Blonde, you said?” 

Walking past the living room, head full of thoughts, you almost smack straight into another kid. It’s a girl with an adorable bob and flower-clipped into her fringe. She’s wearing the same middle-school uniform as them. Probably another one of Megumi’s playmates.

“Oh- I’m sorry,” you apologise, ceasing from your wailing mental whirlpool of all the hours you’ll have to plug to find this mysterious blonde hook-up.

She stares at you, mouth slightly agape.

You hadn’t bumped into her that hard, had you?

“It’s… okay,” she says, eyes and voice dazed.

“Nobara- where are you?!”

Her docile appearance vanishes as she flares up.

“Shut up, Itadori! You’re the one who can’t even play my Ryu right!”

“You know I main Samus!” Itadori yips back. There’s some hesitancy before he speaks again. “Because she looks good.”  

“You’re so disgusting!” Nobara plants her hands on her hips, calling towards the couch area. From this angle, the tall back of the couch masks the two kids sitting on the carpet. Turning back to you, her ferocious demeanour melts away and now you’re the one dazed at how fast her face changed. She’s too adept. “You’re so pretty. Are you Megumi’s new mom?”

The minor squabbling in the living room fades a little in your ears, along with some colour in your face.

Huh? Megumi’s… mom?

!!!!

Your ears feel like they’re on fire.

How could- wha-

No!!!

“No!!! I just work for Fushiguro!” You rush to clarify, tongue nearly tripping over itself. “I definitely am not Megumi’s new mom! I barely know him!”

She looks unconvinced. “Uh-huh.”

As serious as you can, you set your hands on her tiny shoulders and affix her with a solemn expression. “Serious.”

She purses her lips. “Fine.” A pause. A sly expression. “Are you single?”

“…Pardon?”

Her eyes gleam. “Do you like women?”

“E- Eh?”

 “Nobara, knock it off. You’ll scare her, and she just works for my dad.” It’s Megumi who calls out this time from the living room.

The tiny girl deflates. Her hand grips your pinky finger and shakes it coyingly. “If you’re into women, I know an older girl who I think you should meet. You’re so pretty it’d be a waste not to have you in my life somehow, you know.“

You’re amused that this Nobara girl is trying to matchmake you, having literally just met you a second ago.

“She’s graduated and working already! There’s no way you can pair her with Saori! Saori’s only in high school!” Itadori protests, his voice coming through amidst the Supersmash Bro’s game effects from the impressive speakers.

His cruel reminder of your age shoots you through the heart, but he’s right. You have to agree with him. You can’t have Nobara trying to pair you with a high school student. Hell, even a university student would feel a little weird to you.

It’s less about the age and the difference in maturity from life stages.

“That’s very sweet of you,” you smile, eyes curving, “but I’m afraid I’ll have to say no.”

Nobara shakes her head fast. “Don’t be afraid! Be brave! Say yes!”

This time you laugh and pat her head. “Bye kid, have fun with Megumi and his friend.”

You’re too petty to let Itadori know that you remember his name.

Hmph. That’s what he gets.

…why are you one-sidedly beefing a middle schooler…

As you close the front door and wait for the lift, you can hear the tail end of the trio gossiping about you.

“…so pretty.” That’s Nobara.

“…assistant…” Megumi. You weren't an assistant though.

“…too old for Saori.” That was for sure Itadori.

The last bit makes your eye twitch, but you let it go. Sexual orientation questions aside, high school is way too young for you.

--

Two nights (sort-of) later, you’re hunched over your desk at home when you find her.

Your bangs are pinned back from your face by a fluffy hairband and you’re sporting a sheet mask that you most likely should’ve peeled off ten minutes ago. The only lights in your room is the computer screen (nightshift mode, of course) and the soft penguin night-lamp on your bedside table.

From the hours you’ve spent searching for her (thank goodness your time at your shitty workplace was over, so you didn’t have to be up early tomorrow), you’d long kicked off your fluffy slippers and hitched a leg onto your chair.

Now finally, unlike the four other false leads you had fruitlessly leapt at and had to let go – wasting precious hours – you’re sure that this is the girl.

Yumi Tsukumo.

Blonde. Hooked-up with Fushiguro at her house (the fact that they had hooked up at hers and not Fushiguro’s place isn’t surprising given what little interaction you’ve had about his careless appearing self).

And she was for sure spreading some crazy falsities.

You weren’t exactly sure how Fushiguro had found out. Maybe she had spoken to someone, and it had slowly spread back to him, but judging off her blog alone…

You whistled low.

Small dick? Scroll scroll scroll.

Unimpressive stamina? Scroll scroll scroll scroll.

Rolled over after? You slam your dinky plastic mouse on your mousepad.

Were these actually falsities?

You peel off your sheet mask and trash it decisively. Vindication!!!

Then a reminder that he’s paying you (with suspicious money) and you probably shouldn’t be rejoicing in this pings in your head, and you deflate. But then the pile of empty energy drinks on your desk attracts your attention and you decide to rejoice anyway.  

For all that work just to find this woman and the 2% of help he provided you, maybe you can be exultant for juuuust a couple minutes.

You scroll a little longer on her blog, admittedly some schadenfreude at work, but her privacy settings on all of her her social media has messages turned off. The only way to contact her is most likely in person.

You scrub her digital footprint for her address, a weird expression of uncomfortability on your face. This is your job now.

Now that you have her full government name, it’s significantly easier to find where she works. Honestly, maybe you should be a private investigator.

Satisfied, you note down the address and name onto your notepad and head to your bathroom to brush your teeth, pointedly ignoring the first rays of sunlight beginning to leak through your thin curtains. That was what your sleeping mask was for.

-

It feels a bit stalker-ish to show up at her apartment door, so you settle for appearing at her workplace. It’s a local coffee shop that you’ve never been to, but it’s the kind of place you’d go on a weekend with your friends – all rustic looking and calm.

You cast a glance, longingly, at the chalkboard sign on the street advertising some kind of strawberry shortcake. After what you’re about to do, there’s no way you can come back here anytime soon.

It’s hard to imagine that someone with Yumi Tsukumo’s online footprint works at a cute place like this, so you’re crossing your fingers and hoping you hadn’t gotten the location wrong.

You check your notepad again. You check the maps app on your phone.

Okay… brace.

Dressed in a pantsuit, looking as professional as you can for this, and holding a briefcase that feels red-hot in your hand, you step into the café.

You recognise Tsukumo instantly from her selfies online. The café’s empty, and she’s leaning back on the counter tapping away on her phone. Her jaw mechanically and robotically jolts up and down as she gnashes on what can only be gum.

She looks up at you and sets her phone down, dragging herself to the cashier with a bored expression affixed to her face. The entire café is empty. It’s an odd hour to come.

“What can I get you?”

“Are you Yumi Tsukumo?” You ask politely, nails digging into the briefcase even more.

She raises an eyebrow, the gnashing jaw halts. “Yea, can I help you?”

You’re silent when you serve her a formal cease and desist letter.

Her mouth parts as she takes a moment to read it. You can tell the exact moment when she stumbles onto Fushiguro’s name because her eyes light up in jubilation.

“Oh my god, Toji sent you specially? He remembers me!” She cries out, all excitedly, eyes still scanning the page. “Flowers, chocol…”

You don’t say anything.

Her eyes drag onto the next part and she freezes. The gleeful emotion morphs into confusion and then anger. She slams the paper onto the counter, hand snatching for a coffee cup slated for delivery that no one had collected yet and throws it all over you – outraged.

You really wish you worn a more waterproof shirt instead of one that absorbed coffee so well.

---

next chapter link (to be added)

(probably how Itadori ended up playing Nobara's Ryu instead of his usual main)Nobara: Itadori, why do you like playing Samus so much anyway? Megumi (already knows): ... Itadori: BECAUSE SHE'S TALL AND HAS A NICE BUTT! Nobara: EW! THAT IS UNACCEPTABLE REASONING!

༄ A/N - Please let me know if you think its funny... too long too short... everything... open to all criticism QQ hehe i didn't even think ab making a tag list but more people than expected asked for one so... here! tq for the unexpected support 🙇🙇

i am more active on ao3 so sub there if u guys want email updates etc ~~

༄ taglist - @ejwrsblog @twinky-wink @corvusmorte @gators-aid @theshortmuffin07

[nana-mizu-shiki]

have you read Fatherless Behaviour by lemonlimemadness

I have now!

Well, I'm still reading it and am only at ch. 3 rn, but I wanted to reply before tomorrow and rec the fic before then too.

I typically don't rec or read unfinished works (unless it's a series) but I am *loving* it and I still have 9 chapters to go, so I'm probably going to subscribe if I like where I think it's going (*^^*)

He is, as Dick would say, tripping balls.

Eh. He’ll heal.

Tim blinks up at him blearily. Like, that's nice, bro.

His mother cosplaying a rotisserie chicken in her grave aside,

This, in hindsight, is probably why he’s depressed as hell.

Me.

Height spurt, wherefore art thou, he thinks desperately, looking up further

I really liked how even with the comedic tone, Tim's paranoia and mental crisis' at being small again are really well written and explained, going into detail of Tim's catastrophizing thought process

He knew she'd been paying attention to his Powerpoint!

Yeah, that's not gonna help you later on buddy.

“Well, funny you should say that. Because I have, in fact,” Tim motions to himself with both hands, “become child.”

Become Child is just inexplicably funny to me and I will not and can not explain why,

But anyways, this is where I left off, and the only reason I paused to write this, in addition to not wanting to wait until tomorrow, is because my tumblr & drafts were beginning to lag and take screenshots out after I took them and not save, so I'm posting now so I don't loose motivation 👍

[aster-draws]

God I've already reread all of Better Halves in it's entirety twice and multiple pieces more than that and just cannot get over it! Also after ch 26/27 I had to go and pull back up the art from ch 2 and ch 24 because 1) wanted to see what Tim/RR was reconciling 2) cannot get over how AMAZING the art is 3) I absolutely ADORE your version/vision of Phantom

omg thank you so much ;-; I love that people love it, like. ofc I'm obsessed with it, I think about it constantly, but that Other people also like it that much is. wild. idk i love you guys thank you

anyways here's a sketch for Danny's 'gotham' design the plot of which will not be explained because spoilers but I'm also obsessed with because. well. you see.

[n1ightw1ng]

melograno

jaytim | ch. 1/3 | rated E | no warnings | only one bed, fake dating, pining, eventual smut Jason and Tim work an undercover op in Florence. Jason learns just how attractive Tim is at about the same time he learns how fucked up he is.

“You're not much of an art guy, right?” 

Tim shrugged. “Not the kind they usually put in museums.” 

“Oh, yeah? What kind of art is that?” Jason stepped around a sculpture, following the intricately carved snout of a rearing horse, the woman on its back draped, curved, incomprehensibly lifelike. Tim muttered something he didn't quite hear. “What's that?”

“Star Trek.”

“There is so a Star Trek museum.”

Tim pursed his lips. “There are a few.”

“And you've been to all of them.”

“Maybe.”

“Ha,” Jason slapped his shoulder, “take me to one sometime. I gotta see this art.” 

Tim followed him through the claustrophobic rooms, the walls strange, dark shades of red. “Don't be a dick. Up the stairs and to the left.” They entered a room which, at the center back, displayed Judith Slaying Holofernes. 

“Arterial spray. Nice.”

Tim stood a few feet away, his arms crossed. “You wouldn't really go to a Star Trek museum.”

“For you, baby bird, I'd sit through the set tour.” He meant for it to sound mostly like a joke, but it landed too squarely on honest, and the both of them went quiet. 

After a minute, Tim said, “it's only in New York. I'll hold you to that.”

[siltyriver]

DPXDC Dead on Main — Justice is Swift (Vengeance is Sweet) Master Post

Summary —

Danny knew life in Gotham wouldn’t be quiet, it was literally Crime Capitol after all, but he didn’t expect to catch the attention of the entire squad of Bat Vigilantes as his civilian self or make friends with the Wayne family, and he sure as hell didn’t mean to kill The Joker on live television as Phantom, effectively drawing the attention of the entire city and what was left of the rogue GIW group… Fantastic.

(Okay, so he totally did mean to kill that clown freak, but only because he decided to take his little sister hostage as some twisted way to get at Batman… Sue him.)

OR

Danny trying (and spectacularly failing) to lay low in Gotham while simultaneously attempting to be a regular college student. As always, his life is a mess.

Relationships —

Danny/Jason, Tim/Bernard/Kon, Sam/Tucker/Val

background: Dick/Wally, Bruce/Clark, Damian/Jon

Directory —

AO3 || Ch. 1 || Ch.2 || Ch.3

Ch.1 Shitposts || Ch.2 Shitposts || Ch.3 Shitposts

Current Progress Report —

Ch.3 posted Sunday 1/21 (~7.5k words)

Ch.4 progress ~5k words

[crazycurly-77]

Who's Dracula? - Ch 1

Halloween 3-parter 🧛🦹👻

It was that time again...it was the time of year when everyone dressed up and had parties. In short: it was Halloween.

Costumes were searched for and tried on, pumpkins were carved and parties were organized...including at NCIS, of course.

While Abby and Tony were already completely beside themselves with excitement, you and Tim watched the whole thing with interest, but with moderation.

You shouldn't mention it to your team leader, though, because then his mood would suddenly get even worse than usual.

For this reason, it was also clear that he wouldn't be coming to the party, like every year.

But you didn't let it spoil your mood and met in Abby's lab to go there together.

While you girls were getting ready, Tim and Tony slowly trickled in. They talked and wondered what costumes you both were wearing, but as soon as they saw you, they stopped abruptly and their eyes widened.

Abby was dressed as Marilyn Monroe and wore a sexy white dress, high heels and a blonde wig. She looked simply stunning.

You, on the other hand, simply wore black, shiny and skin-tight leather pants with a matching corset, which showed off your hourglass figure perfectly. You left your long, curly brown hair loose so that it fell gently down your back.

But the boys were not the only ones who were amazed, because although they didn't look sexy in their costumes, they still looked really good.

Tim was so well dressed as Sherlock Holmes that you thought he had just jumped out of a novel and Tony as Don Corleone... would certainly make one or two offers at this party that his counterpart couldn't refuse.

Then you all made your way to the party. The room was really well decorated with everything that goes with it. With pumpkins, blood, skeletons, witches, spiders and much more. The drinks and food were also fitting! The organizers had really outdone themselves and Abby in particular was very enthusiastic and immediately immersed herself in the spooky, scary atmosphere.

Party animal Tony also mingled with the party crowd, while you and Tim needed a while to feel comfortable, but then you too could not be held back.

Then something strange happened.

When the party was in full swing, someone suddenly stood behind you.

You didn't even notice that someone was standing there, so you jumped in shock when he put his hand on your shoulder.

After you turned around, you took a look at the person opposite you. He was tall, muscular, had brown eyes and shoulder-length brown hair.

This colleague must have been new because you had never seen him before. But the way he moved and his smile...it seemed so familiar to you, as if you had known each other for a while and were something like confidants.

But who was that?

Dracula with a half mask, so far, so clear. He asked you to dance with a smile. He didn't say a word, just raised his hand invitingly.

You danced several dances together in silence. Dancing wasn't your favorite thing, but it was wonderful with him. If only you could figure out where you knew him from...but maybe you just knew someone who was similar to him.

After the third dance, you finally broke the silence and asked him:

"Who are you? How can I find you? I would like to see you again and get to know you."

He didn't say anything, just leaned forward and kissed you. Slowly and tenderly and it tasted like so much more.

It was a kiss full of promises. Then he smiled one last time, stroked your cheek and left.

You stood there perplexed and watched him go, even though he had long since left.

Then someone suddenly spoke to you: "Are you looking for someone?"

It was Gibbs and he wasn't even in disguise.

"Wow, do you have to sneak up on me like that? I almost had a heart attack," you greeted him.

He laughed and asked you: "Since I have to be here, let's dance."

You looked at him with wide eyes: "Who can force you to be here?"

He rolled his eyes: "Our new director."

The two of you danced and had a very pleasant conversation the whole time. You even told him about the apparently new colleague and asked him if he knew him.

To your disappointment, he shook his head. That significantly reduced your chances of seeing him again. Gibbs knew everyone, but unfortunately not him. Dracula must have been very new.

Sadly, you danced in your boss's arms for a long time, wondering if you would ever see Dracula again.

(To be continued...in Chapter 2.)

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

Here you will find the other chapters of this story.

Masterlist stories - Part 1

Masterlist stories - Part 2

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

Tags: @ilovemark1951, @hobby27

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

[luvly-writer]

“XOXO”

Tim Drake x Reader

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

Series Masterlist:

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

Summary:

What happens when you mix the scandalous trio from the Upper East Side Elites with the batfamily? Find out!

Ch. 1 They don’t need an introduction

Ch. 2 She is as beautiful as she is poisonous

Ch. 3 Part-Time lovers, Full time problem

Ch. 4 The Queen and the Prince

Ch. 5 Siblings are the worst

Ch. 6 Let’s go viral baby!

Ch. 7 Angel and Ivy

Ch. 8 She makes the whole place shimmer

Ch. 9 Under the mask, there’s a heart

Ch. 10 Snowy hands & warm smiles

Ch. 11 Fun Loving in Winter

Ch. 12 A Crowd’s Favorite

Ch. 13 Wrapped in Pretty Paper

Ch. 14 A broken heart is fixed by another

Ch. 15 Christmas is a time for lovers

Ch. 16 He followed me all the way to NY

Ch. 17 I can hear my heart breaking

Ch. 18 Nothing happened in the way I wanted

Ch. 19 Every corner of this house is hunted

Ch. 20 The smiles are made of ice

Ch. 21 Gonna regret being too honest

Ch. 22 Loving you was like breathing

[thenextdawn-temporarilyclosed]

One of Your Kind (Ch. 5)

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10

Word count: 5.2K

Summary: Jenna is getting very flirty with you and you notice that on several occasions, only you try to ignore everything until your friends decided to set something up…

Warnings: maybe a little bit of angst? Otherwise nothing really

Pairing: Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader

———

November 2021

A couple weeks passed since your fight with Tim, but you didn’t want to see it like that. You wanted to see it as two weeks passed since you opened up with Jenna, since she slept in your bed as you both cuddled, that’s how you wanted to see it. Jenna had made it her personal goal to make you feel better, to make you trust people again and to just… be happy. She wanted to see you happy, she wanted to spend time with you. It started off small: at the start she would come in your trailer or you would go in hers, you’d play games or talk about anything or even watch movies together, actively avoiding horror movies as she knew you didn’t like them, you were more into fantasy and sci-fi and she took a liking to those genres too, and it often happened that you’d fall asleep in her bed, snuggled up to her. Even if she was the one in your trailer, you both snuggled up to each other and you’d always fall asleep first.

You never knew that Jenna purposely stayed awake longer to just watch you sleep and play with your hair, sometimes even tracing your skin with her fingers - she was glad you always slept soundly. You looked so relaxed whenever she was around and she noticed that, your face muscles were always tense at work, unlike how they are when you’re around her. You looked peaceful around her and she loved that. She loved how you felt safe whenever you were in her proximity. But you were too innocent, too innocent to realize that she was looking at you differently, too innocent to realized that maybe - just maybe - Jenna had feelings for you. However, you were still, just best friends.

You were indeed happier thanks to her but you had no doubts about that. You had been trying to reach out to her for a year and now that you spent the majority of your time with her, you were happy. You were slowly feeling better and starting to open up to people again, though only Jenna knew your actual experiences, only she knew how you truly felt and she was glad she did, because she was there whenever you had those small break downs, she was there when you were scared to lose your job. Slowly but surely you started hanging out with everyone else again. They had questions but you dodged them thanks to Jenna’s help, she always wanted to protect you and you couldn’t be more grateful to have met her and even though you were quiet at first, soon enough you were really good friends with them: you were back at laughing, back at joking. You were the girl you used to be when you first met Jenna and you barely knew any english.

Once again, it was thanks to Jenna’s help that you went back at work. You talked with Tim and you both apologized to each other and as a director under his teachings you were becoming as precise and as meticulous as he was, which is why most of the times he gave you the job of combing Jenna’s bangs. He was so obsessed with it, he needed each strand of hair to be in a particular place and he trusted you to just know what was gonna work for the episode and this morning that’s exactly what you were doing. As Jenna was sitting in a chair after getting her hair braided you were trying to find the right position to comb her bangs. If you knelt down she was too up high, if you stood up she was too low, if you bent down your back hurt… however you were trying to do your best.

“Wouldn’t it be best if you sat on my legs? I can see you’re having a hard time” Jenna said, and you gulped nervously as you tried to hide it with a giggle. “Nah don’t worry I can still work with this” you said and she scoffed. “Oh come on! We’ve known each other long enough. Plus you’ll get a better view and a more comfortable angle to work from” you eventually gave in and sat on her legs straddling her, you were nervous and she sensed that, but why were you nervous? You were doing your job, and she was your friend. Right?. Jenna’s hands found their place on your thigh which only incremented your nervousness, a pink shade appeared on your cheeks but she ignored it. Ha! She made you nervous. she could basically hear your fast heartbeat and As much as she enjoyed that, she also needed to calm you down and she did so by moving her head repeatedly and messing up your work, causing you to laugh at the faces she made as you definitely did calm down “stop it! Come in I need to get this done” you laughed and she did too, but she continued on moving her head from side to side, making it impossible for you to get the job done but you didn’t care, you were having fun.

That was until you noticed it was getting late and Jenna soon needed to be on set. Without thinking of it you very gently grabbed her chin, making her stop her movements as she looked at you and you did the same, her eyes moving from your eyes to your lip and for a brief second you did the same. Silence filled the room for a while, your hand stil having a hold of her chin as you looked at each other, slowly leaning closer to her until the door was opened and Emma stormed in. You quickly stood up and off of her as Jenna removed her hands from your thighs only to place them in her own lap. “Hey Jen you need to-“ Emma stopped talking when she saw you get off of Jenna, having briefly seen that you were sitting in her lap. “Did I interrupt something?” Your reply came quicker than expected “no not at all” you said laughing nervously. “Hmmm. Okay. Jen you’re needed on set” Emma said before leaving the room and you sighed of relief before turning back to Jenna, none of you saying anything for a while as you went back to work on her bangs, this time standing up. Only after a couple minutes you noticed Jenna smiling slightly at you.

“Why are you smiling?” You asked her and she slightly shook her head as to not ruin your work. “Nothing, you just look cute, all focused on me” you blushed brighter than earlier, this time trying to hide the smile. Oh god, was she flirting? Yes, she was flirting and you were falling straight into her trap. “Come on let’s get you on set” you said, avoiding her attempt at flirting but Jenna smiled anyway, she was the reason you were nervous, - a happy kind of nervous indeed - and she was going to take advantage of it. Of course Tim was more than happy with the way you combed her bangs, if only he knew how long it took you to make it this right.

You and Jenna never talked about what would have happened if Emma hadn’t come in the room and you were still acting the same way with each other, she was as flirty as ever, but you’d often take it as a joke. You didn’t think she liked you, maybe she didn’t and you were there deluding yourself of what could be if she did like you, would you a be a happy couple? Would she want to make it public? And would she hurt you? This is what you were mostly scared of. You were scared of betrayal, you were scared of being abandoned again. Maybe this is also why you never replied to her attempts at flirting. However, Thanksgiving was soon, very soon. In Italy there’s no such thing and you had never celebrated it in America either so this would be very, very new for you. Everyone was making such a big deal out of it and you didn’t know why, it was just a lunch with a turkey in the middle of the table… right?

They were going to celebrate it on set too, and of course you were invited too. In some ways it reminded you of the huge Christmas dinner with the whole family everyone has in Italy. You missed your home country in some ways, but not because of your family. No, you hated them. However, when the day came you were all having lunch on set, you had a restaurant prepare you all the food and take it on set so you didn’t have to move to go to a restaurant and of course, you were late. The night before you had gone to bed late because you were watching a movie and you forgot to set your alarm so you had to prepare in less than five minutes and head to the lunch. When you arrived, everyone had already arrived “I’m sorry for being late” you said and caught your breath, you had ran there. “Over here!” You turned to where Jenna was calling you from. “I saved you a seat next to me”

It was a pretty normal lunch, you were sitting next to Jenna and you were both amongst the rest of the cast. You were the youngest amongst the recording crew so most of the free time you had you spent it with the cast. As much time as it took you, you enjoyed their presence and they enjoyed yours. Once again, or maybe we should say like always, Jenna was flirting with you. “Girls you would make a really cute couple, you know that right?” Emma said. You were really good friends with her too, so she could afford the confidence she had with you, but her comment made you blush. “W-What? No we’re just really good friends.” You said as you drank a sip of your water, trying not to choke at Emma’s next comment. “Yeah mhm. You’re always in each other’s trailers and you know what I always say about couples? “And they were roommates” which you are basically and I’m never wrong” you sunk in your chair after having almost chocked, and you failed to notice the blush that had settled on Jenna’s cheeks too.

It was a really nice lunch and you ate A LOT. But after the lunch, like all the time Jenna invited you to her trailer. Recently you’d help her revise her lines, so you thought that this is what you two were going to do today as well. “God my back hurts a lot” Jenna said, grunting slightly as she bent to put her purse down. “Is it because of the stunts?” You asked her, and she nodded, sitting on her bed “we told you to get a stunt double… you’re not used to all this, you should have expected to get back pains” you said, still standing awkwardly in her trailer as you heard her chuckle “you sound like my mom” that made you laugh and shake your head. “Do you need a back massage? I’m pretty good at that” Jenna looked at you with pleading eyes and you smiled, taking your jacket off having understood what she wanted “take off your shirt and lay down on hour stomach” you turned around as she did so, and when she said she was ready you walked over to her, climbing on the bed and straddling her lower back.

As soon as you started massaging her you felt how tense her muscles were, and you heard her grunt of pain first, which turned to relief. You started from her lower back where her ditches of venus were. “This feels amazing…” she nearly whispered, she had her eyes closed and a small smile on her face, her head resting on her arms. The more you went up the more she relaxed and you had to move her long hair out of the way. At some point though she reached her hand back to unhook her bra, and you could say you panicked. “W-what are you doing?” Jenna could feel you had gotten tense. “Relax… I just unhooked my bra. I’m just giving you some more space” she said, “I’m not stripping off, we’re not there… yet.” As she giggled after her own comment, you gulped nervously and resumed with your massages. To say you wanted to bend down and kiss her bare skin was an understatement, and you really refrained from doing so.

The rest of the massage you were both quiet, and only when you were finished did you notice that Jenna had fallen asleep. You smiled and gently climbed off of her, hooking her bra again very gently, as you looked at her. She had been filming a lot recently and she looked exhausted. The freckles on her nose and cheeks even more visible when she wasn’t wearing make up, and you moved a strand of hair behind her eat to give her a better look, god was she stunning. You hesitantly leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, only to see her smile slightly, making you smile as well. “Sleep well Jen” you whispered and pulled the covers on top of her before going back to your own trailer.

December 2021

Christmas was near and you couldn’t wait to spend it with your friends. These past years you didn’t like Christmas but this year you were really excited, you knew it was hugely celebrated in America and even if now you were in Romania and they didn’t celebrate it like you guys do, you had ordered a Christmas tree from Amazon as well as some Christmas decorations to put up in your trailer and around set. In Italy it’s a tradition to put up Christmas decorations on the 8th of December and you were going to do the same thing here and you couldn’t be happier. You woke up earlier than everyone else, so that when they woke up they would see what you did. Useless to say that the cast was very happy with what they saw, you could see all their jaws drop. However, the “grownups” weren’t as happy.

“You need to get this stuff off of everything” director of the cameras said, and you pouted “oh come on! It’s Christmas” you said and he only scoffed “make everything disappear within ten minutes” he insisted “but-“ “now, (Y/N). We need to start filming” you sighed “gee, the grinch has a better Christmas spirit than you” you said, and without looking at the cast you climbed on the ladder to start with the higher up things, only… the ladder wasn’t as stable as you thought and you lost your balance, taking a really bad fall as your head hit the ground, though luckily you didn’t pass out “(Y/N)!” You heard someone yell, and by the time you sat up you saw everyone around you look worried. Well at least you thought so. Your vision was blurred, you saw double and even your hearing was confused: everyone was speaking and asking you questions but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. “Guys I don’t- I don’t understand what you’re asking me” you said and rubbed your head where you hit it, you were loosing some blood but it wasn’t much.

“What happened?” You asked as you tried to stand up. “No no no don’t stand up” Jenna said but you couldn’t understand any of it. However she was late, because you had already stood up but you lost your balance again. Luckily people were around you and made you sit back down. “Guys I’m fine” you kept saying, their voices sounded all mixed together and you couldn’t make out their faces, but you were sure Jenna was there. “How many fingers do you see?” Jenna said, holding out two fingers. hers was the only voice you understood. “Uh five? I don’t know” you said as you held your head and grunted. The next thing you knew you were in an ambulance, being taken to the hospital with Jenna coming with you. The whole situation was all a distant memory and you barely remembered it had happened when you got back from your trance state. “Ouch that hurts-“ you said as you felt the pain in the back of your head, it was bandaged and you had a couple stitches.

Only a few seconds later you realized you were at the hospital, and Jenna was there. Wait, wasn’t Jenna supposed to be filming? “What happened?” You asked as you sat up, looking at Jenna. She looked extremely worried, leg moving up and down at a speed as she fiddled with her own fingers. She was still in her Wednesday clothes for set. “You fell and hit your head,” Jenna started. “You scared us, (Y/N). You couldn’t stand up straight, you didn’t understand what we were saying, your vision was confused, I was scared” well, you had no recognition of all of this, you blinked twice and Jenna looked at you with glossy eyes as if you were seriously injured “it’s alright Jen, I’m okay now” you tried to reassure her and she nodded “I know… you just scared me big time” you looked at her again “want a hug?” You said with a smile, opening your arms for her. She seemed hesitant at first, but before any tears could leave her eyes she moved in your arms and a shaky breath escaped her lips as you held her tight. “I’m okay”

You left the hospital that same afternoon as you were better, and as you got back to the trailers you remembered why you had took that fall. You were asked to take the Christmas decorations off, and because of that all your happiness for Christmas vanished. “Are you gonna come to Percy’s trailer to play some Uno?” Jenna asked you with a smile, which you gave in return, only a smaller one. “I think I’ll go back to my trailer. In italy we put up the Christmas tree today and I want to do it. Those idiots already ruined the Christmas atmosphere, I at least want to have a Christmas tree in my trailer, you know?” Jenna looked at you with a small smile and a look of admiration, maybe even love- no definitely not love but it was different than any other time. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You giggled “I know it’s childish but it’s important to me” you said and waited for an answer “no it’s not childish at all, I admire that,” there it was, admiration. “Tell you what, I’ll come help you later tonight, okay?” She said. The thought of that made you happy, and you smiled brightly “see you later then!”

You definitely had your hopes up because she did not show up. You had left a few Christmas decoration for her to put on the tree including the star that goes on top, but she didn’t come and she didn’t even send you a text warning you, and to say you were a little bit sad was enough, though you didn’t blame her, she was probably really tired… but at least you expected a text. You had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for her only for her to not show up. That day you didn’t talk to her the whole day even if she had tried multiple times to apologize. “(Y/N) I’m sorry okay?” She said for the thousand time, following you back to your trailer “will you listen to me!?” She said and you finally turned to look at her, leaving her speechless for a short moment. “I’m sorry. It was late, I was tired. I didn’t even know what time it was and when I noticed, I had to go to sleep because my alarm would have rang two hours later. You get that right?” You sighed and nodded, looking down “I do get that, I don’t blame you for that. It’s just that I was waiting for you, I had left you a few decorations to put up and you didn’t show up, you didn’t even send a text… I’m just sad, that’s it” you said and shrugged

She apologized again and you replied with “it’s okay, I put them up this morning so the it’s fully decorated now” You saw her nod after that, and then move her eyes to the ground. Now she felt guilty. It was only a week later when you found yourself in a very, very awkward situation with Jenna. Emma and the others had been confabulating something and you knew it, they were looking at you and you would give them confused glares, and you didn’t know that but they were looking at Jenna, too. Were they maybe trying to set you up on a date with her? “Hey (Y/N), can you come here real quick?” Emma called for you, and you were anxious of what was waiting for you. “STOP!” You stopped dead in your tracks. “Stay there, don’t move” she said and then proceeded to call Jenna too. “What’s the meaning of this?” You said, only for your voice to be cut off by Emma’s voice calling for Jenna, and she walked over to where you were and stopped next to you. “Perfect!” Emma said, almost jumping of excitement. “Now look up” you gave her a glare before looking up.

Mistletoe.

Oh no you thought, this is bad. This is way worst than what you had anticipated, this was worst than a set up date, you had expected anything but some mistletoe, now you had to straight up kiss her. “You can’t be serious right now” you brought a hand up to your face, perhaps to hide the blush that had made its way in your cheeks and neck, you didn’t dare to look at Jenna, but she was looking down shyly too, bangs covering her eyes as she tried to suppress her smile, until you had what you thought was a brilliant idea. You stepped away from under the mistletoe, just one step. “Well I’m not under the mistletoe now so we can’t…-“ you were quickly interrupted when Jenna grabbed your arm, to prevent you from moving any further away from her as she pulled you in close, arms linked around your waist as yours automatically found place on her shoulders “… kiss…” you whispered, now that both your faces were inches away from each other.

You could feel her hesitant hot breath against your own lips that were parted ever so slightly, her eyes moving very quickly from your right eye, your left one and then your lips, creating some sort of triangle shape. Now that you were this close you felt your breath falter, heart hammering against your chest and you were so scared that it was going to come out of it if you didn’t calm down, however how could you? How could you calm down when Jenna was looking at you with nothing but love in her eyes? Her arms tightened their grip around your waist to bring you closer to her and only then you thought, oh how ethereal she looks. She looks like an angel, a goddess and any kind of positive affirmation you could come up with. “J-Jen…” you whispered nervously, you were really tense in her arms but she wasted no time in taking care of that when she leaned in to place her soft lips on yours. The beating of your heart only increases as you finally relaxed and gave in to the almost foreign feeling, everything else became background noises, eyes closing and your hand hesitantly moved from Jenna’s shoulder to her neck and then cheek reciprocating the kiss that felt so intense, yet so soft, and both foreign and familiar at the same time. You have no idea how long she has been wanting to do this for, and she hummed against your lips at the realization that this was finally happening. You could feel her smile against your lips and at some point you even moved forward for more.

Though when you pulled back from each other, as you saw her smile you felt… you felt scared. Scared that whatever happened with your ex could happen again. Scared she was going to hurt you, abandon you, talk bullshit about you and you didn’t want that, you couldn’t have that. If it happened again you would fall back into that depression Jenna found you in when you met again here in Romania, and in that case she would be the one that got you both out and back in it. You wanted her, you really wanted her. That’s what your heart kept telling you but your head wanted otherwise. This time you decided to follow your head, even if you knew that this would probably be the worst decision of your life. “I’m sorry I- I have to go” you said and pulled away from her embrace as you used the back of your sleeve to wipe the single tear that had rolled down your cheek “(Y/N) wait-“ Jenna called but you completely ignored her and ran to your trailer.

You considered yourself lucky, because the next day everyone would be flying back home to spend Christmas with their families and you really, really didn’t want to talk with Jenna, you were too scared. However that day she sent you lots of texts and called you multiple times, but you never replied to any of them. You even closed your trailer windows so she couldn’t come look inside and you had locked your door, but that didn’t prevent Jenna to come try and talk to you, and that’s exactly what she did. “(Y/N) why are you ignoring my calls?” She called softly, she sounded worried, but you were too scared to face her right now. “Look I don’t know what happened after that kiss that made you want to run away but really, I’m sorry and I want to help, please let me help” she begged and for a short moment you felt a soft noise, Jenna had laid her head against the door “I don’t want it to ruin anything. If you want we can forget it ever happened, what do you think?” No, you didn’t want to forget it, you wanted to do it again but you couldn’t. Oh how you wanted to just hold her and kiss her… however you said nothing. “Please…” it sounded more like a cry coming from her and once again you didn’t reply, and soon enough you heard her sigh and then walk away.

That same night, Jenna came again at your door, and you recognized that it was her just from the knocks, three like usual. “I bought you some food, it’ll be out here in a bag if you want it… there are also some plane tickets inside… if you ever want to come spend it with me and my family, I don’t want you to be alone here for Christmas so if you’re coming just text me okay? I lo-“ she stopped mid sentence. Please don’t say it, please don’t say it… “I’ll miss you for these two weeks” you sighed of relief. You did want to hear those words coming from her but on the other hand you knew that if you heard them, you would fall at her knees.

You didn’t have to hear those words.

On December 30 at midnight you took your first flight that would take you to Los Angeles. You had calculated how much it would take you to get there and if the flights were on time you would arrive at her house at 7.30 pm of December 31. You didn’t text her, deciding to make this a surprise… you had given up, you ended up following your heart as always. This time it felt different, Jenna was different. You knew she was the one and you couldn’t lose her.

Your second flight was late and you were freaking out. You needed to get to LA, get a bouquet of roses and get to her house in less than two hours or you wouldn’t make it to her house before midnight stroke, so for the first time in your life you decided to use your “famous person” privilege and get a private Jet, which was faster and comfier and at 11.50 pm you were in front of her door, the beautiful bouquet in your arms. There was music in the house, you knew she wouldn’t hear the bell ring, so you called her on the phone. “(Y/N)? How are you?” She asked, and you avoided her question “I’m here, open the door” Jenna went quiet, confusion all over your her face and her relatives questioned what it was about. “What do you mean?” “The door, dumbass” you giggled “I’m in front of your house and it’s freezing, just let me in” within seconds Jenna hung up the call and rushed to the door to open it.

As soon as she saw you, she gave you a bright smile and a confused look, then she saw the flowers, which you handed to her. “What’s the meaning of… this?” She said, gesturing to the flowers. “I didn’t like how our last talk ended… but it was my fault” you were definitely nervous but for now Jenna decided not to question that. “I wanted to end the year on a good note… and start the new year in an even better one” you said and took a step closer to her, she didn’t know what to say, she was just glad you were here.. and she definitely wasn’t expecting what was going to come next, because you pulled her in from her waist, (roles reversed from the first time you kissed) and a couple seconds before midnight stroke, you pulled her in for another kiss. This time it felt even better than the first one you had shared. In some ways it felt desperate, it even felt relaxed and soft. As one hand of yours stayed on her waist, the other one went to cup her cheek, caressing it with your thumb as fireworks started exploding around you, both literally and figuratively. The new year had just started and people were celebrating it with their loved ones and for the first time, you were doing the same.

You smiled in the kiss and when you both pulled back - still being only inches away from each other - you continued cupping her cheek, looking at her with love and lust in your eyes as you saw the colors of the fireworks reflect on her skin, and she looked at you the same way you looked at her.

“Happy new year, (Y/N)”

“Happy new year Jen”

A/N: WOAH this was definitely a rollercoaster of emotions, this was definitely my longest chapter posted and It’s probably the best chapter I’ve written so far 😭😭

Tags: @idkjustliving2 @tundra1029 @engenelxver @rainbow-love4ever @gimaximoff @smromanoff @wol-fica @lum13 @eviekensington @i984

[definitelynotaminion]

Rated "R" for Robin, Ch. 3 pt. 1

This is a continuation of sneak peaks for Chapter 3 of this jaytim fic (on ao3, 2 chapters 11.7k). The full wip of chapter 3 is up on my patreon, if you’re interested (the full fic is up to about 15,500 words so far). Otherwise I'll just be sharing chapter 3 in small bites here until it's finished and goes on ao3. The tag is going to be rated r 3 or if you want to start from the first post of chapter 3/chrono order, here.

-

“I was never this fucking small,” Jason insists, crowding right up on him, right up in his space. Fuck, he gets a feel for the shape of that armor under his hands.

“Hrk.” Tim says, intelligently.

“This armor weighs more than you do, what the fuck, Re-- Tim.”

And Tim is just in his arms, all armor and Gotham rain dripping off of it, and Jason can see the fucking-- flush on his wind-whipped cheeks!

The way Tim sucks in air and blushes for his name, not any kind of insult or mocking variant. He looks a little bit like he wants to run away, and that just won’t do.

But of course, before Jason can even grip him tighter, Tim is kicking that fear down-- kicking the darkness away-- and finding all that Robin bravery-- not bravado, not this time, not when it matters-- and leaning into this instead.

“...Jay.” He says, almost softly, and there’s a flutter at his throat. Adam’s apple just fucking-- bobbing-- and yeah, this close, even in the shitty lighting.

“I’m sorry.” Jason says roughly, thumbing at the fucking scar along his throat, hair-thin, almost invisible.

Tim fights away from him-- no, he’s just going for the domino, and he must have already applied the release outside in preparation but there’s no way it doesn’t still rip.

Then the red mask is just gone and Jason reflexively reaches behind him to yank the curtain closed with one hand, the other still flexed on Tim’s armor, on the fucking-- mean little chest piece--

Tim gives him his eyes, a cold fucking blue. Light, like the kind of skies you just didn’t see in Gotham-- metropolis, maybe. It strikes him like the glaciers he saw in cold ass countries on a grim ass mission, when he wasn’t all there.

He didn’t know he had this-- could have had this-- to come home to at the time.

It’s a strange experience, suddenly wanting to kick his own ass. Things had certainly seemed justified at the time, and yet.

Yet.

“Robin.” Jason says, and yep-- strangled noise, right on queue, and Tim’s cheeks are so red. Oh, he can’t help but smirk like an asshole, except it’s a more crooked grin-- a younger grin-- showing some of his teeth.

Tim just is that breathless, right in his arms, staring like he can’t get enough, like he’s. Just. Absolutely frozen.

[torscrawls]

A Ghost by Any Other Name ch.4

You can read it on AO3!

If you prefer tumblr: Chapter 1 can be found here. Chapter 2 can be found here. Chapter 3 can be found here.

--

Danny couldn't stop thinking about Tim's questions about where he was from.

A big part of him hadn't wanted to tell the truth, but a bigger part hadn't wanted to lie.

When they—he, Sam, and Tucker—had crafted his new identity they had decided to keep Danny's hometown as Amity Park because it was easier not to slip up if he had fewer lies to keep track of. And Danny already had more than enough of those.

They had banked on Amity being a small enough town that no one would recognize it, and more importantly; not recognize him.

But of course people would ask about his past, it was a normal thing to do between friends. Right? There was no reason to panic. 

Danny just had to become better at quelling the panic and remember the lies so that no one got suspicious and figured him out.

Sadly—or thankfully?—he didn't have time to dwell on the fact that his one and only new friendship was one wrong question away from crumbling, not now when ghosts had started appearing in Gotham.

So far he had been able to avoid getting dragged back into the fighting by threatening most of the ghosts that had shown up to leave him, and the city, alone. Several years of fighting had, if nothing else, made sure that most ghosts at least listened to him.

Which was good since Gotham’s own vigilantes arrived quickly at almost every scene and Danny didn’t want to risk using his ghostly abilities too much and reveal himself, or—even worse—bring his parents here.

That wasn't to say that he was ready to fight if he had to, because he absolutely wasn't. He wasn't even sure he could fight right now with how his body felt.

At first he had chalked it up to a side effect of his massive growth spurt, especially since he very much doubted that it was of a normal, human origin. What with the late and sudden onset, the unnatural speed with which he had shot up and filled out, and considering his increasingly otherworldly appearance it probably had a ghostly origin.

But he doubted that it was the root-cause of his sickness since he had stopped growing, but was only feeling worse.

Maybe his sickness was a side effect of getting his arm removed under such traumatic circumstances. Maybe it was some sort of infection. 

He had almost gotten used to the alarming looks his sudden dizziness earned him and his staggering runs to the bathroom to throw up—what felt like—all his insides. His constant joint pain that wasn't helped by his cobbled together prosthetic arm. His headaches and his too-green nosebleeds.

Because of the whole on the run and living on the streets thing he had been trying out for the last few months, he hadn't exactly had the funds nor opportunity to go to a doctor and have the arm checked out and his own experiences and conversations over the phone with Sam, Tucker, and Jazz only got him so far. 

Now, he did have a job and an apartment but he really didn’t want to risk having to answer any hard questions on just how he managed to lose an entire arm and why he had then proceeded to quite obviously cauterize and stitch it up himself.

Of course, Danny knew one other person with a prosthetic arm and Frostbite had never withheld information from him, but he hadn't had a chance to meet up with the yeti again now that he had first-hand experience.

Whatever caused it, the fact of the matter was that Danny felt like shit and that he was happy he hadn't had to fight anyone lately. But with the number of ghost sightings rising every week, his luck might not last. He didn’t know why ghosts had started to appear in Gotham, but he wasn’t naïve enough to think he didn’t have anything to do with it. And if ghosts had started showing up in town because of him , then it was his responsibility to deal with them. 

History loves repeating itself.

Danny was currently busy coughing up a lung and trying not to let any of the ectoplasm that dribbled out of his mouth stain his clothes, all the while debating whether it was worth the trouble to stagger the rest of the way to the convenience store for his dinner, when he felt the all-too-familiar sensation of cold clawing its way up his throat and escaping through his gritted teeth.

Great.

And that was all he had time to think before he was body-slammed to the ground.

Danny tried to twist in the air, to get out from underneath whoever had attacked him, but large hands grabbed his shoulders and slammed him into the pavement. His face pressed against the rough ground and Danny instinctively raised a hand, ectoplasm building beneath his skin and ready to burst forth, before stopping himself and remembering his human disguise, that he couldn’t fight enemies openly anymore. Not as Dante Armstrong, regular dude, and definitely not as Phantom, his parents no.1 target.

Danny twisted enough under the weight pinning him down to glimpse Skulker grinning down at him with a victorious smile. He wasn’t surprised.

“What are you doing here, Skulker?” Danny gritted out.

“If you thought you could escape me by coming here, then you're dead wrong. I'll hunt you down wherever you go, little whelp.” Skulker grinned down at him with fire in his eyes as his hands tightened on Danny's shoulders until the grip went from uncomfortable to painful.

Ancients, Danny itched to blast the bastard right off him and into the nearest building. He had enough to deal with as it was without someone trying to skin him alive but there were people around, staring at them and screaming. Of course there was. He couldn't very well yell “ going ghost!” and expect no one to see him.

Despite what Jazz always said, he had learnt some things over the years.

But that didn’t mean that he would just lie here helplessly. He tried to buck the other ghost off with just a touch of super-strength, hoping no one saw anything out of the ordinary. If so; Danny would just have to find a new town to live in. It was okay. Really. The thought didn’t make him want to cry or anything.

Skulker growled and Danny decided to try the same approach he had used in most ghost attacks in Gotham. Talking to them. Jazz would be so proud. Even if the talking in question was more akin to threatening .

Danny made sure his fangs were on full display as he growled, “If you don't get off me right now I'll tear open that flimsy tin-can you call a body and drag you screaming out of your own mouth.”

Skulker paused. They had fought enough times for him to know that they weren't just empty words. Most ghosts just needed a little reminder.

Maybe not a preferred way of conflict resolution from a human standpoint, but far from mindless. Just another thing his parents had been wrong about.

Danny consciously flashed his eyes and Skulker immediately jumped back. As he staggered to his feet, Danny gasped as he tried to force the ectoplasm back down.

That short release of energy almost startled Danny from how good it felt. Like releasing some of the pressure on an over-pressurized pot. He had to wrestle back control not to let out any more than he already had, but he couldn’t risk doing that in the middle of the street.

But Ancients, he wanted to. For the first time in months, his headache lifted slightly.

He breathed deep to get himself back under control and lifted his prosthetic arm, as if aiming it at Skulker. “You're not the only one with inbuilt weapons anymore. You want to see what the weapon that took my arm would do to a full ghost?”

It was an empty threat, of course. Danny would never again go anywhere near that weapon if he could help it, much less carry it around, and he had absolutely no idea if it would be more or less dangerous to a full ghost. But Skulker didn’t know that.

“This isn’t over, whelp,” Skulker threatened as he floated backwards, eyes blazing. “I’ll get you eventually!”

“You’ve said that for years, and I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“You won’t see me coming.”

“I’m shaking in my boots,” Danny deadpanned. Then he gestured with his arm, hoping that Skulker wouldn't see the way it was, in fact, shaking. “Now run along.”

Skulker swore and growled and grumbled, but he did turn invisible and fly away.

Danny felt his shoulders relax as his presence disappeared and he unsteadily lowered his arm back down, wincing at the pain radiating through his shoulder and back. He had been lucky; he didn’t know if he would have been able to actually win a fight with Skulker right then because of how bad he felt. Finally, he could go— 

And then Batman stood in front of him, as sudden and silent as any ghost.

Danny blinked in surprise as his brain automatically assessed the danger of the man in front of him; his multiple weapons tucked into his belt, his broad frame and muscular limbs, his sharp gaze fixed on Danny. Really, he was a lot more intimidating up close than he had been from the other side of the street, which was as close as Danny had gotten during the other ghost attacks.

Then he realized that he really should be trying to convince Batman that he was just an innocent civilian and definitely not involved with ghosts in any way, no sire.

Danny made his best impression of being scared and grateful for rescue, drawing from years of experience of being on the receiving end of it. “Oh, Batman! Thank you for saving me! I was so scared!”

Batman stared at where Skulker had been just a moment before for a few tense seconds before turning the full force of his attention towards Danny. And Danny froze, rooted to the ground, more scared now than he had been facing off against Skulker.

Batman kept his eyes on Danny, silent, but then Red Robin suddenly appeared at his side. Maybe being silent as ghosts were a prerequisite for being a vigilante.

Red Robin had a kinder look on his face than his colleague as he asked, “Are you hurt?”

“I—I don't think so. I don’t—” Danny didn’t have to fake the trembling of his limbs. “I don’t know what happened. Suddenly he just—”

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” Red Robin said with practiced patience. “What’s your name?”

“It—It's Dante.”

“Alright, Danny, can you tell us what happened?” Red Robin asked and Danny fought hard not to flinch at the use of his nickname. That made two people who had immediately defaulted to Danny –Red Robin and Tim. He was going to kill Tucker.

Batman, apparently fed up with the niceties, glanced down at Danny's arm and asked, “What did you do to make the ghost leave?”

And wow, Danny was tempted to offer him a cough drop, speaking in such a growly voice couldn’t be good for you. He just shook his head, forcing his eyes to water—thank you Maddie and Jack for teaching him that skill, who knew that having to hide everything from his parents would make him really good at acting scared—as he stammered out a pathetic, “I—I don't know. I just tried to keep him away and—and I don't know.”

He really hoped that him threatening Skulker with his arm could be interpreted as him raising his hand to defend himself at a distance. 

“What did it say?” Batman pressed, no hint of sympathy in his voice.

Danny shook his head. “Nothing that made any sense.”

Batman looked at him in what Danny thought was disapproving silence before Red Robin jumped in again, attempting to smooth everything over. “Go easy on him. He looks scared out of his mind,” Red Robin said with clear sympathy in his voice.

And Danny was. Just not of the ghosts like they assumed. He was scared of them . Ghosts, he was used to, but the two people in front of him were the ones that could drive him out of his new home.

But Danny nodded intensely and put on his most terrified voice as he said, “I thought I was a goner! The ghost could have really hurt me!”

“So you do know about—” Red Robin started before cutting himself off.

“How do you know it was a ghost?” Batman asked as he sent Red Robin a glare and he stepped back, letting Batman take over.

Fuck, fuckity-fuck. He had wanted to stay as far away from Batman's radar as possible, not suddenly be the sole focus of his attention.

What if they found him out? What if they too decided that all ghosts were evil?…What if they also decided that they wanted to try and cure him?

“I—I don’t—” Danny stammered out, desperately trying to come up with a good excuse. He was a ghost fanatic? Too close to home. He had been hunted by the ghost in question for years because it wanted to skin him? No one would believe it. He was a half-dead hero fighting ghosts since his early teens? Great response if he wanted to be thrown into Arkham. Instead he landed on a very meek, “I watch the news?”

Batman didn’t even hesitate before firing off the next question, “I’ve seen you before. At these ghost-attacks. What were you doing there?”

Danny tensed up. Of course Batman had noticed him and put two-and-two together. He was the world’s greatest detective.

Then Batman continued, voice just as gruff as before, “Why haven’t you told anyone if they’re attacking you?”

Or not.

He thought that the ghosts were there to attack Danny? It wasn’t completely wrong, even if Danny generally was the one attacking them to stop them from attacking others. Still, it was… nice that people didn’t automatically assume that he was the bad guy. Danny cleared his throat and looked away. “I didn’t want to cause any trouble.”

“That didn’t really work out, did it?”

Red Robin had apparently had enough of being sidelined, which was kind of funny for a sidekick, and stepped back into the conversation, “It’s not his fault he was attacked. Stop grilling him.”

Danny wanted to agree, but apparently his throat had other ideas as it chose that moment to seize up and cause him to double over again, coughing until he winced in pain.

Red Robin placed a careful hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Batman’s gruff voice spoke up, “So you were hurt.”

“Yes,” Danny managed after a few deep breaths, ignoring how raspy his voice sounded. “Or, no. But it wasn't because of this.”

“Do you need to sit down?” Red Robin asked and if the concern in his voice was fake, he was even better than Danny.

Danny shook his head. “No, no, I need to go. I have a meeting with a friend and I’m already late.”

Red Robin withdrew his hand, sounding suddenly hesitant, almost guilty, as he said, “I’m sure they'd understand.”

Batman inserted himself into the conversation again with a, “We might need to get in contact with you to ask some further questions. What is your number?”

Red Robin rolled his eyes, and the fact that Danny could tell even behind the mask was a testament of just how often he must do it. “What he means is; Can you give us a number we can reach you at?”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “Do I get any in return?”

“No,” Batman immediately answered. Red Robin had no translation for that, just an apologetic shrug.

Danny let out a barking laugh. “At least you're honest.” So he rattled off his number and then scampered off, refusing to look over his shoulder but feeling eyes on his back the whole time until he turned a corner. 

He let himself slump against a wall, shaking legs barely holding him upright. Somehow he had survived. Still, he had thought he had gotten away from everything that had to do with ghosts. But now everyone here was asking him about them; Tim and Batman both.

He couldn’t afford any more slip-ups.

--

Danny dragged himself into work the next day, late and tired after his unplanned run-in with Skulker and subsequent meeting with Batman and Red Robin. To top off the whole evening Tim hadn’t even showed for their planned game-night, which might have been just as well since Danny had barely managed to get home before collapsing in bed.

After the short reprieve he felt after his confrontation with Skulker, stuffing all his ectoplasm back down felt even harder than before. It was as if that short, sweet, taste of freedom had made his body rebel even worse. The headache had come back with a vengeance and he held a handkerchief to his nose to stop the constant dripping, which alarmingly had started to turn more and more green. His joints hurt worse than right after the accident and if he wasn’t deathly afraid of losing his hard-earned job he would have stayed home and wallowed in his misery.

As it was, the walk to work hadn’t been easy with his whole body hurting even more than it usually did nowadays, even though he had left his prosthesis at home for the day.

When he finally stumbled through the door he was sweating, trembling, and wishing he had just caved and called in sick.

His misery and wallowing was interrupted when Tim poked his head into the room. “Hey, Danny, do you have time to take a look at something?”

Danny straightened up and plastered a smile on his face, hiding the paper he had been using to try and stem the blood dripping from his nose. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“I have a project that I need another pair of eyes on.” 

Danny sent his boss, an older woman named Hannah, a questioning look, but she simply stared at Tim with wide eyes and then gave Danny a nod. 

For some reason, his boss never seemed to mind when Danny went to help Tim with something. She never argued and she would just agree with wide eyes and an expression that almost looked awed as she immediately agreed. It was as if she thought Danny was unbelievably kind to help Tim out. As if she was impressed that Danny could stand Tim.

If his boss wasn't otherwise so nice, Danny would call her out on it.

“So what is this project you wanted help with?”

Tim seemed to be distracted by his phone as they walked through the corridors, but at that he looked up and smiled. “Oh, it’s nothing. You just looked like you needed a break. What’s up?”

Danny grimaced at the fact that he was apparently so easy to read. “I had a run-in with Batman.”

Tim placed his phone in his pocket. “Was it the ghost attack?” 

“How did you know?” Danny asked in surprise.

Tim’s gaze flickered to the side and back. “It’s on the news.”

“Yeah…” Danny let out a long sigh. Of course it was on the news, but since Tim hadn’t seemed to know that he’d been involved he took some solace in the fact that he probably hadn’t been mentioned. “I got stuck in the middle of it last night.”

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

Danny waved him off. “No, no, I’m fine. It’s not the first time I’ve been in a ghost atta—” Danny cut himself off. He was too tired to monitor everything he said. He cursed himself.

Tim perked up. “So you do know about ghosts?”

Which was the second time in as many days he had gotten that question. Was he really so bad at keeping secrets? “Why are you so interested in them?” Danny countered.

Why would Tim, his new friend in another town, suddenly ask about ghosts? Danny just wanted to forget his old life, god damn it!

It was Tim’s turn to look a bit hesitant. “Well. There’s been a lot of attacks in the city lately by villains that seem… Strange. So I thought that maybe they’re ghosts?”

Danny really had no idea if that was a normal conclusion to jump to or not. He was the first to admit that his perception was a bit skewed. “Maybe,” Danny allowed.

“So you do believe in ghosts?”

Danny was so tired and he really didn’t feel like denying his own existence today. “Yeah.”

“But… you said your hometown wasn’t haunted?”

Danny cursed himself. Again. When would he actually learn? “Well. It’s not? It’s more accurate to say it’s under attack.”

Tim blinked. “Right.” He stopped walking. “So you know a lot about them? The ghosts?”

“Everyone from Amity knows about ghosts to some degree,” Danny said with a strained smile and as always; careful not to show his teeth.

Tim raised an eyebrow. “And what degree are you?”

Danny shrunk in on himself, uncomfortable. “I mean… That depends… I don't really—” 

Tim leaned back, hands up and with a slightly guilty expression on his face. “Oh, no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pressure you. It's just—” he exhaled forcibly and, after what seemed like a short internal debate, said, “We might be having some issues that we think miiiight be related to ghosts.”

That got Danny’s attention. A ghost he hadn’t noticed? That was an issue.

That didn't mean that he wanted to get involved with whatever this was but the least he could do was to listen to what Tim had to say. As a friend he owed him that, at least. 

Tim combed a hand through his hair with a strained laugh. “You're not laughing at me. That’s a start.” 

Danny raised an eyebrow. “I'm from Amity Park. I’m used to worse.” At Tim's nonplussed expression he clarified, “We have our fair share of whack-jobs.”

“Are you calling me a whack-job?” Tim asked with a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yes,” Danny deadpanned and smiled as Tim snorted, breaking some of the tension.

Tim took a deep breath and then hesitantly said, “I’m not really supposed to be talking about it, but honestly we’re at a bit of a dead-end. Do you think you’re up for bouncing some ideas?”

Now it was Danny’s turn to hesitate.

He didn’t want to get involved in any more ghostly problems. He had tried to get away. He had gotten away.

But it had really never mattered what he wanted, had it? The problems were already here, and if he had learnt something over the years since everything went to literal hell it was that ignoring your problems didn’t tend to solve them, it just made them haunt you.

No matter how much he wished otherwise.

Not that this came as a huge surprise, he had been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Suck on that Jazz! He hadn’t been paranoid!

So Danny sighed, and prepared himself to have everything he’d worked for come crashing down. Again. “Yeah, sure.”

Tim brightened up. “Really? You’re sure?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny waved him off. “I have to help if I can, right? So, what’s up?”

“Well, we have this… Computer. It's not very important.” 

Which meant that it was very important.

Tim continued, “And it’s getting attacked by… something.”

“Right. And why would just think ghosts and not, I don’t know, a normal virus?”

“Well. It learns and adapts quicker than any virus I’ve ever seen.” Tim fumbled his phone back out of his pocket. “Just. Here. Look at these logs.”

Danny looked down at the readings clearly displaying ectoplasmic activity and cursed his whole existence. The only silver lining being that it was restrained to a closed system which meant that his parents shouldn’t be able to pick up on it. But this meant that they were dealing with a big and important computer acting up with ghostly readings. Yeah, there was someone he knew that fit that M.O. Just to make sure, he asked, “This is from the attacks?”

“Yes,” Tim confirmed.

Danny heaved a  sigh. First Skulker and now Technus? Well. In for a penny… “I might know who it could be, but I need to see it to make sure.”

Underneath his absolutely overwhelming desire to do anything besides “making sure”, Danny found that he was impressed that they had been able to keep up with Technus until now. That was no easy task.

“Wait. Really?” Tim looked genuinely surprised.

Danny raised an eyebrow. “You asked me for help, didn't you?” 

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you would actually be able to help.”

Danny snorted. “Glad to disappoint.”

Tim laughed. “I'm glad you're disappointing!” 

Danny joined in, feeling a bit better about the whole disaster as he said, “Lead the way!” 

--

And that's how Danny found himself in an otherwise empty room occupied by a big computer which looked more high tech than anything he had seen before. Well, it looked to be composed of several different parts, but no less advanced for it. It reminded him of his parents’ and his own inventions; the best parts cobbled together to make something that was far beyond anything available on the market.

If Tim was the one who built it, then Danny suddenly felt a lot more comfortable with him poking around in his arm. The only question was; for what purpose was it built?

Danny didn't have very good experiences with rich people who liked to mess with science and computers.

He wondered if this computer also contained a creepy program modeled after some poor unsuspecting victim. Or data to make clones of a nearby child. Maybe even data about all the heroes in the world and plans how to take them down, or something equally ridiculous.

Tim looked from the computer, to Danny, and back, before saying, “Just try to focus on the ghost problem, alright?”

That only made him more interested, more curious. “Sure.”

But even that promise didn’t stop him from sneaking a few glances at the computer as he worked, but sadly he was unable to really get any useful information from it. Whoever owned it took security very seriously. After a short while, Danny leaned back and declared, “Yeah, it’s definitely Technus.”

“Technus?”

Danny just raised his voice as he said, “Yeah, Technus is a ghost who just sucks at everything that’s related to technology!” Danny made sure to pitch his voice even louder as he ignored Tim’s raised eyebrows, “He’s just the worst and everyone back home laughs at him! He can’t even figure out a light bulb!”

Tim frowned in confusion, but before he could do more than open his mouth, Technus—predictably—burst from the computer in a shower of sparks.

Tim staggered backwards. “Holy—”

“Yo, Nick,” Danny said with his hand raised in greeting. “So this is where you’ve been hiding out?”

“Ghost-boy,” Technus growled out, his body still halfway morphed into the computer. 

“I hope I’m not seeing you trying to possess this computer.” Danny tried to cross his arms, realized he only had one at the moment and settled for crossing it over his torso. “Do you want me to call Tucker?”

Technus froze. “No. I’ll just— I’ll just leave.”

Danny nodded. “Yeah, I think that’s for the best.” Then he added, “You know, my parents probably have some new tech for you to infect.”

Technus perked up, moving as if to leave, but then he hesitated and turned back to Danny. “I don’t want to owe you anything, so I’m going to give you some advice. All that ectoplasm leaking out is going to draw more of us in. You can’t contain a system failure, you know? You have to shut down the whole process or it’s going to cascade and destroy everything.”

With that ominous statement, Technus fizzled out like bad static and it wasn’t until Technus had left that Danny realized what he had just revealed to Tim about his own parents.

He relaxed minutely when Tim didn’t bring it up but instead didn’t waste any time before asking, “How did you do that?”

Danny shrugged.  “We have a sort of understanding.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to elaborate on that?”

“Not really.”

Danny could tell that Tim wanted to question him, but he must have looked as uncomfortable as he felt—and Tim must have realized that he wouldn’t say anything more—because Tim just pursed his lips and asked, “And what did you mean about your parents?”

Aaaand there it was.

“They’re inventors,” Danny hedged as he tried to play it off.

“That’s cool! What do they specialize in?” 

Danny waved him off. “Different things. Nothing you would recognize.”

Tim looked like he wanted to ask more, but then he stopped, tilted his head, and asked, “What did he mean about system failure?”

Danny was infinitely grateful for Tim’s curiosity at the moment. “Who knows?” Danny shrugged. “Ghosts are weird.”

Tim pouted. “Do you have tips for how we can make sure this doesn’t happen again?”

“Nick won’t be coming back.”

“But other ghosts might?”

“I mean… Yeah.” At least Danny hadn’t been able to get them to stay away permanently. Yet.

“Can I count on you to help with them if they do?”

Danny hesitated. He didn’t want to say no and disappoint his new friend, but he also didn’t want to promise to help with things he didn’t want to get involved with and he definitely didn’t want to get more involved with ghosts than he had to. He had worked hard to stay under the radar of both his parents and the Bats in Gotham, and this would definitely not do that. He had enough experience to know that accepting this would be a slippery slope right down into getting found out and subsequently, into trouble.

“I’ll think about it.”

Tim looked like he wanted to argue, to push, but then he swallowed it down, muttered what sounded like “not a mystery” and nodded. “Thanks. And thanks for getting the ghost out of the computer.”

“Don’t mention it,” Danny said, and hoped that Tim picked up on how literally he meant it.

[redflagshipwriter]

WRITING GAME: sentence request Saturday

I'm listing the WIPs I have open for today. Send me a request with the name of one of the WIPs and I'll write up at least 3 sentences on that one and post it for you. I'm posting excerpts from the ones I have open to get things started.

Check Yes To Go On A Date With a Dead Guy Ch 6

“Have you experienced events that could be described as fatal?” Danny read from his notebook. Before Jason could answer he continued, “Do you know the name and species of all your progenitors? Have you ever wondered if you are-” 

Jason held a hand up to ask for silence. He was in the zone on a training module that Barbie had sent to the whole team. He was not going to get any more shit from fucking Tim and Stephanie about being an out of touch old man like Bruce who ran code directly from the 90s.

Hot Ghouls In Your Area ch 10 part 2

Jazz’s roommate Tiffany was fine and all that, but Danny didn’t feel that he was missing out on much when he phased from the stairwell directly into the little ensuite bathroom that connected to Jazz’s bedroom. He could hear quiet conversation from the living room– the TV, maybe? 

But Jazz had clearly locked her bedroom door before she left. Danny made a note that Tiffany definitely wouldn’t be finding him and then he starfished on his sister’s bed. He set an alarm for 1 am with a smidge of guilt. It probably wouldn’t wake her up. Maybe she wouldn’t even stay home for the night, she had a boyfriend, right? Or was she the one with the girlfriend who worked downtown?

Whatever. Danny slept like the dead. In fact, he slept through his alarm and woke up to see 7 messages from Jazz. The one showing on the screen was “DANIEL FENTON Tiffany thinks my bedroom is HAUNTED because someone is snoring in there.”

Halfa Cass Ch 6 Part 2

‘Ouch,’ Tim thought gleefully as Bruce got his constipated expression. Damian was definitely pretending he thought it was admirable to frighten hapless Justice League niceguys. Damian knew better now. Damian even liked Jon Kent, who was basically like a tiny Captain Marvel.

Bruce really should know that. Tim could see the calculations whirring in his mind, weighing the odds of Damian being genuine.

He knew that Damian was a lot better now. That Damian had promised not to stab anyone unless it was absolutely necessary. That Damian had made friends and was less hostile to outsiders.

Bruce wasn’t confident enough that Damian knew better. He gave in. “I will be careful with my tone around him,” Bruce said sullenly. He stabbed at his breakfast.

‘You just got played by a ten year old.’

“Thank you Daddy,” Cass chirped.

Ah well, that’s it then. Game, set, and match. Bruce lifted his face enough to aim his watery i love my kids eyes at her.