#and my little brother is GOOD .anyway detective time

[adventures-in-mangaland]

Dead Boy Detectives Fic Recs Part 7

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

So I hear there's been some fandom drama? Guess it's time for another fic rec list! This fandom is so lovely, so let's focus on the positive and give all the love to our writers and artists. You guys are so talented. ♥️

Work It Harder, Make it Better by dear_monday, two_ravens

Olympics AU! And kind of Sk8er Boi? Charles is an Olympic skateboarder at the end of his competitive career and Edwin is a rising star in the world of dressage. They fall in love at Paris 2024. Amazing writing, as always, and I also enjoyed Niko and Crystal as members of the skateboarding and equestrian teams having their own Olympics Romance and Jenny as Charles' world-weary coach.

Twin Flame by Leandra

Another "He was a punk, he did ballet" romance! This time, everyone is alive and the boys meet when Charles watches Edwin perform at his little sister's ballet recital. The romance and Charles as a big brother are very sweet, which is great as this fic also covers some heavy themes. It's set in the 90s so there's discussion of homophobia, the AIDs crisis and Charles' canon child abuse. Suffice to say, his bisexual awakening is quite fraught. Recommended!

Love for Hire by lucrow

Edwin hires Charles to freak out his parents with his obnoxious fake boyfriend. What could possible haaappeeen? And yes, it's a ballet/punk romance too. 😅 Anyway, it's giving fantastic banter, lots of emotions and great use of trope! I also enjoyed Edwin's relationship with his mum in this fic, excellent parental feels.

so I try to talk refined by shadowquill17

Charles finds out about the Cat King taking on his appearance and (somehow) arrives at the conclusion that Edwin isn't attracted to him. Charles having body image as well as chronic self-esteem issues was interesting but kind of heartbreaking. Read it for Edwin's agonised attempts to verbalise his sexual attraction to Charles without exploding. That's love right there.

A Royal Pain(e) (series) by handwrittenhello

Royalty AU! I love a bodyguard romance from time to time and this one is lovely. Lots of yearning.

Turnabout's Fair Play by Like MmmCookies

Edwin enlists Niko and Crystal to teach him how to flirt with Charles. It starts off cute and awkward and ends up Master Of All He Surveys, which is very Edwin.

I will love you (I really love you) by ghostinthelibrary

Charles has a feelings realization and tries to confess to Edwin. Repeatedly. From a cock-blocking enchanted statue to a Hellhound, it's farcical and fun. This fic has been living in my head rent free for months.

seasons of mists by laiqualaurelote

Edwin hires Charles to be the barista in his book shop's cafe. Two cosy AUs in one! And it even comes (appropriately) with its own reading list and fanart! Very cute, excellent autumnal vibes and a superb imaginary book shop. I'm genuinely so devastated it's not a real place. 😭

Ariadne's Thread by hobbitsdoitbetter

In which Edwin is demisexual and trying to make it work with Charles. Love to see some ace spectrum representation!

you know the problem with history (it keeps coming back like weeds) by aletterinthenameofsanity

Amnesia AU! And kind of Secret Relationship? Edwin has Not So Temporary Amnesia that made him forget a whole romantic relationship with Charles early in their partnership. And Charles never told him... Surely this will have no impact on the events of canon?? 😬 I loved this twist on the trope!

scraped to the marrow by Anonymous

Edwin learned black magic in Hell and kind of went to the Dark Side. I love the trope of "Everyone thinks Character avoids violence because they're scared/weak/nice/bad at it, but actually they're a bit too good at it" and this fic does it well. I love regular Edwin, but Lord Bone was also pretty cool.

To Walk Back Into Hell by Asidian

Charles goes to Hell in Edwin's place, so naturally Edwin needs to find a way to rescue him! Interesting Hell lore and I loved all the Charles love in this.

It does not stop by williamvapespeare

Now he's safe from Hell, Edwin finally works through his PTSD. Emotional, but peak Emotional Support Charles for the win!

signed, sealed, delivered by sulfuric

Outsider PoV of the boys and the agency through the years from the perspective of the Ghost Postman. He's kind of underrated as a side character, but there are so many Implications about the Dead Letter Office, so I enjoyed the worldbuilding. And the supernatural community of London gossiping about/shipping the boys (they're just like us, for real). Love that trope.

not so secret by lola_prongs

Social Media/Celebrity AU! In which they're both actors and Charles relentlessly thirsts after Edwin on Twitter. Great use of social media/epistolary storytelling.

Like a record, baby by singtome

Another celebrity/social media AU, but this time Charles and Crystal are budding rock stars and Edwin is their manager. Also Edwin goes viral as the mysterious #HotGuyatUnity after his picture's taken at an event and Charles *tries* to set the record straight. This one's funny, generous with the yearning and UST and is part of a series that also touches on the darker side of the music industry/celebrity, which I appreciated. And it also has this excellent visual representation of the online drama.

@ghostinthelibrarywrites @tumblerislovetumblerislife @shadowquill17 @neurodivergent-fangirling @whatthehorsedoicallthisblog @shazziez @many-gay-magpies @extremely-eager-reader @atariakana @guardianspirits13 @colourmornings @herebehunters @avoiceofnerat @littlepocketuniverse @overlord-of-chaos @fairandfatalasfair @handwrittenhello @every-moment-a-different-sound @williamvapespeare @laiqualaurelote @dear-monday @dear-lucrow @aletterinthenameofsanity @likemmmcookies @bibliomancer7 @c-rowland @nobledragonflying @hobbitsdoitbetter

I've tagged some people again. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

[july-19th-club]

born under a bad sign is so good and so funny meg spends the entire episode marionetting sam around making him stab people and brazenly steal shit and like, be belligerent and harrass jo like ohhhh ahaha this'll get 'em! this one'll definitely be the last straw i cant wait to make them cain and abel it all over this whole stupid nation for exorcising me one single time and dean just straight up refuses to take the bait and doesn't even know there is bait to be taken he's just like. well my little brother would never. and there is another explanation. so jot that down and finally meg has to just shoot him

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Subservient | Azriel x Reader

Summary: Rhys’ reputation in Hewn City is less than stellar, so when an orphanage becomes overwhelmed, he offers to take some in. His plan doesn’t turn out how he expected when he’s instead sent you, an employee there, sent to scope Rhys out before sending children to him. And in true High Lord fashion, he unceremoniously dumps you off on his brothers.

Word Count: ~ 3.4k

Warnings: Abuse, starvation, dehydration, child abuse, bruises, scars, injuries, traumatized reader, orphans, but it ends with some fluff I promise

A/N: thank you so much to anon who sent this req in, it def gave me the inspiration I needed, hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

When you first arrived, the first thought that Azriel had was that you were a sorry sight, hair clearly previously having been mangled and just brushed in time, clothes old and worn by others before you, eyes tired and dim as you didn’t even try to take in your surroundings, looking completely out of it, even with the High Lord of Night Court sitting only twenty feet from you, lounging on a throne.

Azriel could pick up the subtlest shift of Rhys’ scent, the slight tinge of worry as he took you in, despite the sensual smirk that remained on his face, and his lazy posture like a cat spread out, stretching.

But they were in Hewn City, and Rhys couldn’t afford to be himself in Hewn City, not yet anyway, not until the next generation of Fae that was less cold and brittle arrived. Which could take centuries, at the least. Even now, with the plan that was unfolding, it wasn’t likely the citizens would see him as anything worth their time or support.

And as he watched you silently trudge up to the throne, giving the barest bow in recognition only when the older Fae elbowed you harshly in your too-thin figure, he wondered why he had even thought this would be a good idea. Sure, Rhys didn’t have the best reputation in the Court of Nightmares, and the citizens were angry after the damage done to their city, and the lives lost.

The orphanage had taken in more children than they could handle, requiring help from citizens who weren’t the most willing to serve.

This left Rhys with an idea, one that everyone else in the Inner Circle had given their support for eventually, albeit begrudgingly. He took two birds with one stone and took in some of the orphans to both raise his reputation and solve the orphanage size problem.

The only issue with it had been that the orphanage, despite its problems, and the obvious displays of uncleanliness, lack of employees, and even some abuse, refused to give Rhys any children, and though the High Lord could just override their order, that wouldn’t help with the issue of his reputation.

And so they’d agreed to send a worker, one that had grown up in the orphanage and lived there still, working full time to help the children. And look how well that had turned out, with this malnourished, beaten female showing up, barely even alive.

Rhys didn’t speak, his eyes, unsmiling, on the male who’d led you here, forcing him to speak first. The tension grew thick.

”Here she is, my Lord.”

He said, voice smooth despite the hint of nerves Azriel could detect under it, and in his body language. He was fidgeting, palms sweaty, scent blocked with some sort of sour spray commonly sold here in Hewn City, but Azriel could pick up the notes of fear in it, the anxiety.

Rhys watched silently, waiting just to watch the man slowly become more afraid, before speaking.

”Very well, then. Azriel, escort her to the House.”

He said with a simple wave of his hand, and despite the surprise that rose in Azriel about the fact that Rhys hadn’t called the man out or exposed him in the slightest for the obvious mistreatment of the woman, he pushed it back down, walking over to you and gingerly picking your frail form up as if it might shatter with the slightest amount of force.

A silent winnow to the House of Wind, the shadows gently exploring you, reporting every little injury they found, the dehydration and starvation evident in your body, not to mention the clear lack of sleep from the dark eye bags you possessed.

”What’s your name?”

He tried to ask it softly, so as not to startle you, like talking to a cornered animal, but you weren't very responsive. He sighed near silently, walking to a table, the House pulling out a chair as he set you down in it. A glass of water appeared on the table, and that was the thing that seemed to make your eyes light up again, even if just a little bit. Maybe just natural instincts to get water after going so long without.

He gently grasped the water, bringing it to your lips as they parted, tilting the cup slightly to let the water flow down into your mouth, and you swallowed every drop eagerly, parched tongue that felt like sandpaper finally getting the hydration it screamed for.

You panted as he pulled the cup away, hand going to grasp it to bring it back, but he shook his head and you realized the cup was empty. The House, seeming to sense your thirstiness, decided to help, and your eyes widened when you saw water magically filling the cup. Azriel watched, a small smile playing on his lips at your awe and surprise.

”The House is sentient,”

He explained, voice low and quiet. Gentle.

”It decides that we need a bit of help, sometimes.”

You brought the cup back to your lips, drinking the liquid all down as your hand shakily held the cup. The House filled it up, and you drank again and repeated it until your stomach felt full of all the water it could hold, and you couldn’t keep anything else down.

“Full?”

The shadowsinger asked, and you nodded hesitantly. He seemed to expect it.

”You’ll eat in the morning. For now..”

He glanced outside, at the darkness that had swept over the sky quickly, before turning back to you.

”I’ll take you to your room.”

It was another silent moment, a walk, as he offered a hand you didn’t take at first, only carefully taking after you tried to stand up and your knees buckled immediately. It was more like his arm around your waist, at this point, with how he was holding half of your weight up. Your eyes grew heavy, even as you gaped at the paintings adorning the walls, the carpet and rich wood beneath your feet, the fancy wallpapers and furniture. Just selling one of those pieces of furniture could pay for probably a decade’s worth of food for the orphanage.

A fancy wooden door came into view with a carved siding and intricate leaf patterns with flowers carved around the handle, it opened for the both of you as he walked in. The bed in the center of the room was rich, but looked comfortable, just the way you liked it with the right pillows, blankets, sheets, and everything. There was a side table and a large closet, as well as another door you assumed led to a bathroom. You could’ve sworn you heard music playing somewhere down the hall.

As you walked in, he remained at the doorway, not going to enter your space without your permission as you leaned against the wall, slowly making your way to the bed until you sat down on the edge of it, still in your dirty clothes.

You were too tired to care.

He turned to leave, hand on the door handle before you spoke.

”Y/N.”

He glanced at you, head tilting ever so slightly to the side, eyes narrowing just a bit.

”My name,”

You clarified, voice raspy and thin, but slowly shedding its rough layer, smoothing over with every word you spoke.

“It’s Y/N.”

He looked at you for a long moment, hazel eyes peering into yours, before he gave a small nod, and walked away, the door clicking shut behind him.

~

That night had been the first time you’d spoken to any of them, and also one of your last nights seeing Azriel. He’d been sent away on a mission, only giving you a brief introduction to his brother Cassian, a big, brutish-looking man with a smirk, who had forced you to eat properly every day and even convinced you to help out with the exercises today.

Thanks to the daily intake of protein and nutrients you got three times a day now, as well as water, your thin figure had filled out nicely, and you were outside, detangled and freshly washed hair tied back into a braid that the red-haired priestess had done for you after watching you struggle with doing it on your own. You’d already forgotten her name. Something that started with G.

Cassian was trying to help you with the daily stretches that his mate, Nesta, had supposedly originally started with. Your body wasn’t as frail as before but was stiff as a board due to the long hours of being forced into a wooden chair, or the days spent bent over tables folding laundry or over counters doing dishes, not to mention all the paperwork for an orphanage…

You weren’t flexible. At all.

“Here, try to move your hand slowly down, even just centimeter by centimeter.”

He was trying to get you to touch your toes, but you only frowned, hand refusing to go past the bottom of your knee as you tried to push it further, your already aching back screaming in protest.

The three other females out were practicing their swordplay, or whatever one would call the weapons they were wielding. You could hear steel on steel clinging from here, even, and you saw how Cassian wanted to join them. How his eyes kept glancing up at them, a hint of longing in them, maybe even a gleam of lust at the thought of seeing his mate sparring.

And you felt bad for holding him back from that, bad enough that you just wanted to get this last stupid stretch over so you could go back inside and quit wasting his time. With a little mental shove, you pushed your hand down further, jerking it down and-

Something hurt. Bad. A slight sound of something popping almost, and a sharp pain in the back of your leg. Years of controlling your expression from the harsh punishments of the older women in the orphanage came back as you forced it into a neutral, fingertips gracing your toe as you slowly shifted back into a standing position.

Cassian must’ve been too focused on the other females to notice your subtle limp, or how all of your weight was focused on one leg. He raised a brow, glancing back at you when he saw you shift up.

“I touched it.”

You said simply, and he grinned, genuine pride in his eyes gleaming so brightly that it hurt flashing as he nodded.

“You’re making good progress, go take a break. We’ll pick it up tomorrow, yeah?”

You gave a nod, and he patted you gently on the back as he jogged past, picking up a sword and launching straight into sparring with Nesta as you managed to get into the House.

Cassian might’ve been a bit oblivious, but the House of Wind was anything but. Immediately, a chair appeared right near the entrance, and a strong sudden wind pushed you into it, a cold cushion appearing right beneath the aching spot in your thigh as you sat down.

The chair began moving, going straight into your room, where you shifted onto the bed, sitting on the edge.

Strangely though, the House didn’t do anything further. Didn’t provide any ice, or anything to compress it with, so you supposed it was up to you. Usually, it provided anything you needed badly.

Shifting up, your hand went to gently explore the back of your thigh, tenderly pushing against your pants to find the spot that was aching so badly, and soon enough, you found it. A sharp pain shot through your nerves as you grunted and flinched at it, hand immediately going away.

You tried to stand up, but your knee on that right thigh completely buckled, and you fell to the floor in a heap, vision swimming.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you loosed a deep breath, frustration blooming through you.

“Need some help?”

A familiar low voice asked, and you opened your eyes, only to see Azriel standing right by one of the windows, head tilted to the side, hazel eyes examining. His shadows whirled around him, some carefully approaching you. You froze under his gaze, eyes widening.

“How long have you been standing there?”

You asked, and he began to approach, long strides making their way to you as he crouched down in front of you. He hummed in thought, lips pursing before he answered.

“Long enough to know you’re hurt. Can I pick you up?”

He questioned, eyes peering into yours, asking for consent. After just picking you straight up that first introduction without asking, he figured he might’ve not made the best impression, and he planned to undo that. Or maybe he was just overthinking this whole thing. Either way, consent is still a good thing to get.

You nodded, glancing down at your leg as you began trying to squirm, but with a single shake of his head, Azriel shut it down. His hands wrapped around you, slowly lifting you up and carefully to avoid your hurt thigh as he took you to the bathroom, sitting you down on the toilet seat.

“Do you know what’s..wrong with it?”

You asked, and he glanced at your right thigh, shadows flitting around him.

“I’d assume a hamstring tear. Hopefully just a partial one.”

You gulped nearly audibly at that. An entire hamstring tear, just from some stupid stretches that you couldn’t get down. You’d bothered this family enough, and to have Azriel, probably fresh from a mission and tired as hell, having to help you with this…it was more than embarrassing as well.

“I’m going to need to…”

He swallowed awkwardly, gesturing to your pants, and you grimaced. He must’ve noticed, because he quickly offered up a solution.

“I can have the shadows do it, they won’t hurt you. Promise.”

You nodded at that, a breathy little-

“Okay,”

-escaping your lips. Azriel turned away as the cool touch of the shadows, at first made you shudder, though you eventually adjusted as they unbuttoned the pants, slowly slipping them off, making sure the material didn’t put any pressure against your injured leg. They also made sure to tug your shirt down to cover your underwear, which you silently thanked them for. You didn’t need the shadowsinger seeing all that.

He eventually turned back around, probably having been signaled by his shadows that they were done. His gaze remained respectful, making sure to never wander as he bent down, glancing up at the bottom of your thigh and frowning to himself, before nodding.

“Torn hamstring. We’ll keep pressure and ice on it while I wait for Madja.”

You blinked.

“We? Also, who’s Madja?”

You asked, brows furrowed in mild confusion.

“Madja is our family healer. She’s been doing it for centuries now, I sent my shadows to contact her the moment I saw you injured. And you aren’t going to be staying all alone while injured. It’s a ‘we’ situation.”

He replied bluntly, somehow still not a rude sort of blunt, though. Your cheeks turned red.

“You didn’t have to do that, it’s not that bad. Really, I could’ve managed-“

He cut you off before you even got the rest of the sentence out.

“You collapsed from the pain while trying to stand up. It was that bad. Despite whatever you experienced while at that orphanage may have led you to believe, you are not subservient, and you are allowed to have problems.”

He said almost sternly, and you sat there, shocked for a moment.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You said, swallowing down the lump that formed in your throat, and he gave you a doubtful look, moving to sit down so he wasn’t towering over you, settling on the floor across from where you were sitting.

“I’m not stupid, Y/N. I see the way you clean the dishes off after dinners, help set the table before them, offer to babysit Nyx for Feyre, clean the weapons the Valkyries use in training for them…it’s obvious.”

His hazel eyes met yours yet again, and you tried to swallow that lump down, failing, again.

“It’s hard not to try and help out when I’m just stuck here as some charity case for the High Lord.”

There it was. The truth finally came out.

It felt bad saying it out loud, worse than it sounded in your head, but it got rid of some of the pressure in your chest finally saying it.

The orphans were starving and dehydrated, abused, and here you were, complaining about getting unlimited access to food, water, exercise, and plenty of opportunities those children would’ve gobbled up, opportunities you would’ve gobbled up at their age, had you gotten the chance.

Azriel didn’t look surprised. In fact, he looked like he’d been expecting you to say this eventually.

“It’s just—being stuck here, with all these things, when the children at the orphanage need them more than me, with the food shortages and dehydration, and Mother knows the abuse going on behind the scenes—it just feels wrong.”

He let you talk, watching you rant, while a pack of ice appeared on the floor, given by the House. When you finally managed to calm down, tears still welling in your eyes from frustration and anger, he stood up, hand resting on your shoulder.

“I know.”

He said quietly, and you sniffled, glancing up at him.

“What?”

He hesitated, before answering your question.

“I knew the orphanage wasn’t right. I’ve known for a while. It wasn’t about a charity case, or that’s not why I originally suggested it. I needed a whistleblower to shut it down.”

Your eyes widened at his words.

“You want me to…”

“Only if you want to.”

The decision was yours.

Would you keep your mouth shut about the things you’d experienced as a child and employee at the orphanage, where you’d been trapped and abused for years, or would you finally stop being subservient and ignoring your own needs?

~

Nearly six months later, the final court proceedings went through.

It was shut down, and the children all relocated to Velaris’ orphanage funded by Feyre’s earnings from her art studio. After several bruises, scars, deformities, and the obvious malnourishment and illness in most children and employees were pointed out, not to mention some first-hand testimonies led by you, and a handful of other employees and children, it was an open and shut case.

It was a wonder no one had uncovered it earlier.

Almost as if they’d been purposefully ignoring it.

But it was over now, you thought, as you stood in one of the many balconies at the House of Wind, looking at the view over Velaris. A warm presence made itself known as cool shadows began slithering up your arms that were on the railing.

He stood beside you, also taking in the view. His scarred hands, unbound by the usual gloves he wore when getting home from missions, rested on the railing. Your cold hands slowly crept up to his, fingers brushing, both of you holding your breath as your eyes met, and your fingers intertwined slowly, carefully.

Gently, but not because you were fragile, not because Azriel thought you would easily break, he'd already learned that even when you’d been put through trial and tribulation time after time you came out dented, but whole. It was gentle because you both needed a slight reprieve from the world’s chaos and violence. From the horrors that lurked in your mind, prowling and waiting for the right moment to come back up, unwelcome and unwanted.

His wings shifted, one curling around you as he subtly shifted you closer, the limp less pronounced in your sideways step toward him.

Your free hand made its way to his cheek, softly stroking with the pad of your thumb, the barely developed calluses from your training with Cassian a soothing feeling for Azriel. His free hand made to lightly stroke your cheek, letting you take the lead. Giving you a choice.

You leaned in closer, and he bent down slightly, just so you wouldn’t have to rise on your toes to reach his face. Your lips brushed softly against his, a tentative touch, but not unsure as his reaction of kissing you back spurred you on.

And for a moment, both of you intertwined beneath the sky, everything was alright.

[thestuffedalligator]

The rain was coming down like a giant was pissing on the city.

It was times like this that I wished I was human. Detectives love rain. They want the stuff to wash them away with the scum of the street.

I can’t stand water. Never touched the stuff.

My name is Ginger. Once upon a time I used to be the Gingerbread Man. Now I’m a private dick and I drink enough to be a rum cake.

It’s a hard job if you aren’t a tough cookie. I have all the requirements. I’m sugar and spice and a whole heaping of trouble.

I also got an umbrella I borrowed from the Wicked Witch of the West after a case last month. It helps on days like this.

The city was still sleeping like Snow White when I made my way to the crime scene. I turned into an alley and stepped into the remains of a pillow fight from hell. White feathers were scattered across the alley like a soggy snowfall. Blood mixed with rain and trickled down the cobblestones.

Gretel gave me a nod when I walked up. Gretel’s good people. She’s the only person I know who won’t try to eat me. “Thought you might want to see this, Ginger.”

“You’ve been stuffing pillows tonight, Gretel? It looks like Christmas in here.”

Gretel made a face and pointed a thumb to a lump under a tarp. “Then you just missed the Christmas dinner,” she said.

I took a look. There wasn’t much to see besides a greasy little pile of what you’d get if you ate a whole rotisserie chicken down to the bones.

The vic was Chicken Little. I knew the name. Little was a local nut who started a doomsday cult in the neighbourhood. I thought she’d be the kind of dame who’d get into trouble someday.

This wasn’t what I had in mind. Who’d want to whack a pamphlet thumper who thought the world was going to end anyways?

I picked up a rib. There were tiny scrapes scored across it in a line, like she’d been using it to count the days to oblivion.

I stared. “These are teeth marks, Gretel.”

I looked up. Gretel looked sick. That’s when I knew for sure.

“These are fox teeth, Gretel,” I said. “There’s a fox in the city.”

“Ginger, I think you should leave town.”

I flicked the rib back down into the pile of bones and pulled a stub of a candy cane cigar out of my trench coat pocket. “My brother has a house out in the country,” Gretel was saying. “He hates eating gingerbread as much as me. You’d be safe out there for a few days until we can track this fox down.”

I patted down my pockets for a light. Gretel took pity on me and knelt into the shade of the umbrella to light a match.

I puffed a few clouds of peppermint smoke. For a second it really was like Christmas in that alleyway.

I don’t care much for Christmas. Typically people look at me and think of dessert.

“Gretel, you’re good people,” I said. I didn’t realize that I hadn’t said it before. It felt like it had to be said. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Jesus Christ, Ginger, you know how your story ends.”

“Yeah, well. We're all trying to run, run, run as fast as we can from who you are.” I took one last drag and turned out of the alley towards the soggy city. For once, I wished the rain could wash me away. “But eventually it catches up to us.”

[many-gay-magpies]

hello dead boy detectives fandom and bbc merlin fandom. i know there is a decent overlap between the two out there because i am either followed by or have followed several blogs myself that post about both merlin and dead boy detectives, so hopefully this finds its target audience. anyway a little while ago i became obsessed with the idea of merlin and kashi being besties, so i started writing a thing, and i don’t know if or WHEN i’ll finish the thing but i don’t want it to stay hidden until then so i am posting the incomplete and very unpolished version to tumblr. and who knows maybe if people like it that will give me the motivation to rewatch some merlin and actually finish it

anyways without further ado. here’s 1000 words of merlin engaging in (fairly mild) shenanigans in port townsend

—

There was a cat sitting on a rock.

Port Townsend had quite a lot of cats, Merlin had discovered. There had been at least one in sight at all times since he’d arrived in the small coastal town. This cat was regarding him with an expression that might have been called scrutinizing, had it been made by any face other than a cat’s. That is to say, it looked rather like cats typically do, which is scrutinizing as it is.

“Hello,” said Merlin, just to be polite. He had a bit of time before Kashi’s host—Angie, he’d said her name was—came to the surface, after all, and he was in the mood for a spot of conversation.

“Oh, great, it’s another o’ you English twats,” said the cat. “The hell are you doin’ here?”

“I’m visiting an old friend,” said Merlin. “We meet for tea every so often, to catch up. This’ll be my first time seeing his new place. I won’t be staying long.”

The cat settled further onto the rock, folding all four of its legs underneath its body. Its tail flicked lightly before curling around its haunches.

“Good,” it said. “Hopefully you won’t cause as much trouble as those two dead little shits from a couple months back. Brits, I tell ya—ain’t good for nothin’. The Cat King’s still hung up on the stuffy little asshole.”

Merlin hummed. “Huh. I don’t think I’ve met a king of cats before. What’s he like?” He’d met a number of kings in his times, including, quite recently, the King of Dreams—but that number had never included a king of Cats.

“None o’ your fuckin’ business,” said the cat. “Hold on—who are you, anyway? You don’t smell human, and you’re not dead.”

“I’m Merlin,” said Merlin. He thought it sticking his hand out for a shake, then thought better of it. “Pleased to meet you.”

The cat snorted. “What, like the wizard?”

“Warlock, actually,” said Merlin. “But yes.”

The cat opened its mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by a whispered voice floating up from the shore.

Arthur’s voice.

“Merlin,” he called, his voice sounding exactly as it always had when Merlin did something far too stupid and risky for a servant, and he had to hide his worry under blankets of annoyance. “Merlin, are you there?”

“Fuckin’ Christ, again?” The cat grumbled. “There wadn’t even no storm last night!”

Merlin cleared his throat, shaking loose the small lump that had grown there at the sound. Kashi had warned him about Angie’s hunting techniques, so he’d known what to expect, but it was still something of a shock to hear in person.

“I think that’s my ride,” Merlin said. He turned to the cat and gave a little wave. “I’ll be off, then. Thanks for chatting with me!”

“Wha—hey!!” The cat exclaimed as Merlin turned and headed for the cliff. “No—Oi, stop that! Don’t—oh, brother…”

Merlin leaned over the stone barrier to peer down into the water, where a large light was pulsing visibly just below the surface. As he watched, his phone began to ring in his jeans pocket. He was still watching when he brought it up to his ear to answer.

“Hello, my friend!” Crackled Kashi’s enthusiastic voice from the end of the line.

Merlin squinted against the rays of sunlight lancing off the water.

“Is that you down there, Kashi?”

“Yes, it is me. And this is Angie! Say, hello, Angie!”

A loud, almost thunderous roar shook the sound, sending waves clawing at the sandy shore below.

“Hi, Angie,” Merlin shouted down to the creature. Then he waved. He doubted she could see him, but it didn’t hurt to be polite.

To Kashi, he asked, “How should I get in? Should I teleport?”

“Best not,” said Kashi. “Your style of teleportation might upset her stomach. Just jump down! She will catch you. Being swallowed is not the most pleasant feeling, but I’ve asked her not to chew on you.”

“Yeah, I’ve been swallowed before,” said Merlin, thinking back to a very particular instance with a giant snake in the Andes mountains. That was the time he discovered he could bounce back from being fully digested—although digging himself out of a pellet of giant snake dung after his body reformed inside it had not been fun.

“Are you there, Merlin?”

Merlin shuddered and shook his head to clear it of the discomfiting deja vu. “Yeah—yep. I’ll be right down. I just jump in?”

“Exactly, yes,” said Kashi. “It is not a far drop, so you should be fine.”

“Right,” said Merlin. “Well, see you in a minute, then.”

“Looking forward to it!”

Merlin hung up and deftly tucked the phone back into his pocket. Then, he climbed up onto the stone wall, and—after ensuring there was no one around to be traumatized by what it would seem like he was doing—performed an exquisite swan dive into the water.

Being swallowed was about as pleasant a feeling as Merlin remembered it being. That is to say, he felt rather how he imagined toothpaste being squeezed out of the tube might feel, had it possessed any of the five senses or been in any way alive. This time, though, he did not have to endure the process of being digested—which had taken nearly a month, given that Merlin’s first time being swallowed had been by a gigantic snake—and was instead spat out onto the floor of a large, warmly-lit cavern, drenched to the bone and coated in fish mucus.

A step up from being digested by a snake, all things considered.

“Eugh,” said Merlin.

It was then, of course, that Kashi appeared, stooping down and offering Merlin a hand to pull himself up with. Merlin took it and thanked him.

“Welcome in, welcome in!” Kashi said, grinning widely. “Sorry about the mess. I tried to clean up a bit before you came, but things got thrown around in the journey to the surface. Speaking of—“ he raised a finger, and the ground beneath Merlin’s feet—which was disturbingly hard and dry for being the stomach of a fish—began to shake. “—she seems to be going back to the bottom now. Come, sit, so you don’t lose your feet!”

“Nice place you’ve got,” Merlin said, allowing Kashi to lead him across the quaking floor to a small table near the back. “Definitely the best-furnished stomach I’ve ever been in.”

“Yes, it’s very nice,” Kashi agreed.

[miryum]

"Tactical Village"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy's relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

“Do you recognise any of these men?” Y/n asked a woman who was wearing a ‘Visitor’ tag. 

The woman shook her head, saying, “I was hiding in the bathroom stall so I didn’t see his face. But, I heard him. He was singing along to the track.”

“Do you remember what he was singing?”

“Oh my gosh, no, Y/n,” Jason couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Don’t do it….” Y/n chuckled along with him. Captain Wayne had assigned a detective to Y/n whenever she interrogated a perp. There had been an… incident. 

Cass didn’t know who gave Y/n a guitar, but the woman was currently torturing a perp with her terrible playing of the instrument, accompanying the sound with loud, off-tune screaming. 

The woman shrugged. “I think it was that song ‘I Want it That Way.’ ” 

Y/n hummed. “Backstreet Boys, I’m familiar.”

“Maybe a little too familiar,” Jason muttered. He thought of all the times Y/n had agonised both the criminals and detectives on duty with their songs.

“Number one,” Y/n ignored Jason, pressing a button for the intercom. “Could you please sing the opening to ‘I Want it That Way?’”

“Really? Uh… okay,” Perp 1 said. “You are… my fire?”

Y/n glanced over to the witness who shook her head. “Number two, keep it going.”

“The one… desire.” Perp 2 squinted to Perp 1, looking for confirmation that this was actually happening. 

“Number three?” Y/n nodded along to the nonexistent beat. 

“Believe… when I say?”

“Number four!” Y/n called out, grinning widely, leaning on the desk.

“I want it that way.”

“TELL ME WHY!” Y/n sang loudly into the microphone. 

“Ain’t nothing but a heartache,” all the suspects chanted along. 

“TELL ME WHY!”

“Ain’t nothing but a mistake…”

“Now number five,” Y/n crooned to the melody.

Perp 5 raised his hand, losing himself in the music. “I never wanna hear you say,”

“WHOO!” Y/n shouted out.

“I want it that way,” everyone finished together.

“Chills! Literal chills!” Y/n shivered, giggling. 

“It was number five,” the woman said. “Number five killed my brother.” 

“Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about that,” Jason murmured. “And, Y/n, just so you know, you pressed the ‘speaker’ button. Everyone in the precinct could hear that.” 

“Ohhh… whoops?”

“Happy Tactical Village Day!” Y/n high-fived Tim on her way in the door. “Happy Tactical Village Day, Cass! Happy Tactical Village Day!”

“L/n, I'm surprised to see you so excited about departmentally mandated training exercises,” Wayne commented. 

“Why, ‘tis the most fun day of the year, my good sir! Something you wouldn't understand, because you're not programmed to feel joy.”

“Yes, but my software is due for an upgrade,” Wayne retorted.

”When you play along with the robot jokes it ruins my enjoyment of them,” Y/n pouted.

“Yes, I am aware.”

“Anyway, Tactical Village Day is awesome!” Y/n continued with her rant. “We get to field test a bunch of cool, new weapons and there's always a fun training situation. Last year's was prison break. It got uber violent. It was like being in an action movie.” Her eyes went wide with excitement.

Y/n was using a piece of her hair to slowly chisel away at a metal bar of a cell.

“Y/n?” Steph called from the other end of the cell. “Cass and I dug a tunnel. Wanna use it?”

“Go on without me,” Y/n said in a deep, gruff voice. “I’ll make due by myself.”

“It's also a good opportunity for us to bond as a unit,” Steph said, reminding them all the true reason of Tactical Village Day.

“Everybody gets into it,” Y/n exclaimed. 

Jason kicked down a door and he and Dick rushed through it, screaming as they stormed the room. 

It turned out to be a supply closet.

“Suffice to say, the sixty-sixth has never had a perfect run,” Dick chuckled and scratched his neck. 

“Yeah, but Y/n has been the finalist for coolest kill two years in a row,” Stephanie said. “Every precinct sends their footage and all the cops vote.”

“It's not that big of a deal,” Y/n waved her away. “All you win is a children's tennis trophy, so…”

“You desperately want that trophy, don't you?” Wayne asked.

“So badly.” Y/n growled. “I will stop at nothing to obtain my prize. I'll shoot all of you in the face if I have to!”

“Go team,” Damian said monotonously. 

“Okay, so,” Y/n slid into the seat next to Jason’s on the bus ride over. “I’ve figured out my fictional persona for this year’s shooty-shooty rootin-tootie.”

“How the hell do you come up with these names?” Jason muttered, mostly to himself. 

“I am… Gina Thunderhouse. Russian spy, weapons master, and total badass. I even have cool Russian accent.” she said in a bad accent. “Babushka. Moscow. Rasputin.” 

“You know ‘babushka’ means ‘grandma,’ right?”

“Whatever. At least I have a persona, Mr. I’m-not-even-trying-to-be-fun.”

“This training isn’t about fun,” Jason frowned. “It’s about honing our skills to be better officers.”

“We shoot paint at pretend bad guys!” Y/n cried. “How is that not fun?!”

“I’m gonna go talk to Dick,” Jason said, standing up. “You have fun thinking of more Russian words.”

Steph quickly filled Jason’s empty seat, grinning sharply. “Seems like you two are getting cosy!”

“Come on, Brown. Not this again!”

“You gotta admit there’s spark.” 

“How many times do I have to tell you?!” Y/n exclaimed. “He’s like a brother to me.”

“And Leia was like a sister to Luke,” Steph sang out.

“Okay, that’s not fair. Luke didn’t know! No one knew.”

Steph shrugged and let the conversation go, though a smile flitted through her lips. Soon, the sixty-sixth arrived at the building where Tactical Village Day would commence. Walking in the doors, duffel bags full of gear and weapons in hand, Y/n shouted out, “The six-six is in the house!” 

“Six-six!” The rest of the crew echoed.

“Hey! Biz!” Y/n greeted an old friend. “They upgraded you from bystander to perp! That’s great, man. Still gonna blow your brains out though.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything else,” Biz waved back.

“Jason Todd?” A voice spoke from a crowd of detectives and cops. “Is that you?”

“Rose?” Jason’s head whipped towards the voice. “It’s been so long! What’re you doing here?”

“I’m with the seventeenth now,” she explained. “We’re paired with you guys today.” Rose was a tall, slim, blonde girl whom it seemed Jason connected with very well. 

“Wha- what’s going on here?” Y/n shuffled up to them, Steph close behind. 

“Oh, Y/n, this is Rose Wilson.” Rose held out a hand and Y/n firmly shook it. “Rose, this is Y/n L/n. She’s the life of the six-six.” He placed a hand on Y/n’s lower back, pushing her slightly forward. 

“Nice to meet you,” Rose said. 

“Likewise,” Y/n pressed her lips together in a smile. 

“Well, I gotta go,” Rose hugged Jason. “I’ll see you later, though. Great seeing you.”

“You too,” Jason returned the hug. 

Once Rose had left with a wave, Y/n turned to Jason and questioned, “So… who was that?”

“That was Rose,” Jason said as if it was the most obvious thing. “We went on a couple of dates last year.” 

“You did?” Steph asked. Y/n had forgotten she was behind her. Cass joined them, silently backing up her friends.

“Yeah, I liked her, but she was stationed in Metropolis so I didn’t get to see much of her. I guess it just fizzled out.”

“Right,” Y/n gawaffed. “That's the girl you said the lame stuff about. Like ‘she's a good listener’ and shit.” Internally, she felt bad for deriding Rose- she seemed like a nice person- but she couldn’t help but take a rag at Jason.

“I'm sorry, what do you look for in a relationship?” Jason asked snarkily. 

“I don't know,” Y/n shrugged. “Real stuff. Shape of their ass. Sense of dark humour.”

“Of course.” Jason rolled his eyes and stalked away.

“Isn’t it weird that Jason dated that girl?” Y/n scoffed, hands on her hips.

Steph raised her brows, mirroring L/n’s stance. “Why do you care so much?” Her voice rose higher with each word.

“Okay, first of all, your insinuating voice is way too high,” Y/n accused. “It's weird. And second, I don't care. I'm just wondering why he would like her.”

“Whatever you say,” Steph said, voice still high-pitched and she shuddered. “Okay, yeah, I hear it now. I sound like Cat from Sam and Cat.”

“Yes, you do.” Cass agreed. “But, I agree. L/n needs to confront her feelings for Todd and woman up.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and excused herself from the conversation, claiming the need to talk to Tim.

“Oh, this is so cool!” Y/n squealed, holding a parallel gun. “You can shoot around corners. I love guns.” She sighed and said, “I'm gonna make such a good mom someday.”

Jason shook his head, lips pursing. “Not even gonna touch that.”

“Not even gonna touch that: Title of your sex tape,” Y/n muttered, then chuckled. “Come on, man. At least make me work for it.”

Soon, it was time for the sixty-sixth to run the simulation. The team was standing by the door, waiting to be let in when Y/n slid by on her knees, making a dramatic entrance. “Gina Thunderhouse had arrived.” Her voice was, once again, accented in a bad Russian tone.

“That was majestic,” Tim joked.

“Custom kneepads to help me win coolest kill,” Y/n patted her knees, showing off her kneepads. After an awkward silence, she asked, “What, don't tell me Thunderhouse is the only lady here with a signature move!”

Tim shrugged. “I was bouncing around the idea where when I'm out of ammo, I release my mag and dropkick or chuck it into someone's throat.”

“You know how people hold their guns sideways to look cool?” Dick asked. Y/n nodded and the sarge continued, “It got me thinking. What if you held your gun upside-down?” He demonstrated it, flipping his gun upside down, finger still on trigger.

Before Y/n could respond with how that was an incredibly stupid idea, a loud buzzer sounded and another precinct marched out the door, looking victorious.

“Seventeenth’s done.” Y/n muttered and Stephanie stepped closer to her. “Heads up.”

“Hey. How'd it go?” Jason greeted Rose. 

Rose smiled and replied, “it went well. We had a perfect run! And not to brag, but I think we just set a GCPD course record for time.”

“Definitely a brag,” Y/n huffed quietly. 

“A course record?” Jason’s brows shot up.  “That’s so cool.”

“Thanks.” Rose looked up at him. “I'm psyched. By the way, good luck in there.”

“Thanks,” Jason called after her as she walked away.

“All right, huddle up.” Y/n pulled Jason away by the strap of his vest and into a group huddle. “This is how it's going down.”

“What happened to your accent, Gina?” Steph asked teasingly, knowing full well what was going on.

“Forget that shit.” Y/n frowned. “We're taking this seriously. Okay, on three: Let's break that course record and be the best precinct here! One, two, three!”

The group repeated, “let’s break that course record and… uh…” They all trailed off, mumbling different things as they forgot the words. 

“Yeah, I agree, it was too many words.” Y/n grimaced. “Let’s just do it.”

“Okay, I've got the details for this simulation.” Dick sat in front of a console, radioing in to everyone’s headsets. “A group of armed men entered an embassy and took hostages.”

“Which embassy?” Y/n couldn't help but ask. She shook her head, reminding herself to stay focused. “Doesn't matter. We’ll just say, Canada. They’re too nice to say no if someone asks to take them hostage. So take out the perps, clear the civilians, rescue the hostages?”

“Affirmative,” Dick confirmed. “This is an active shooter situation. You're cleared for maximum engagement.”

“‘Maximum engagement?’” Y/n scoffed. “What is this, Jurassic Park: The Ride?” 

Dick didn’t answer, commanding, “Brown and Drake, perimeter security. Brown, make sure he doesn’t fall asleep, but also doesn’t die from caffeine overdose. He only got two and a half hours last night.”

“Got it,” Brown said, yanking Tim’s cup of coffee away from him.

“L/n and Todd, you're the assault team. I'll be in the command centre. Cain, I need you to do surveillance on the places I can’t see.”

“On it.” Cass disappeared into the vents and Dick stared after her, wondering how she didn’t end up as an assassin-for-hire.

“All right, focus up,” Y/n said into the comms. “We got eighteen minutes and forty-one seconds to break this record. No screwing around.”

“Wow, you're really not gonna do a character?” Jason asked, smirking.

“I am��playing a character,” Y/n said. “A no-nonsense detective whose only goal is to set this course record. Her name is Y/n L/n. She’s a kid who grew up with an absent father and just wants to prove herself. I don't have time for her full back-story. Sarge, please, let’s start.”

“Okay, guys, and go!” Dick clicked a stopwatch and the team rushed in.

Y/n zipped around a corner, gun drawn. When she didn’t see anyone, she called, “clear!”

She and Jason repeated the actions, peeking around corners and yelling, “clear.”

Y/n turned around a corner and fired two shots at a cop labelled “PERP.”

“Nice,” Jason commented.

Y/n ignored him and said, “okay, only three perps left. We might actually do this.”

Dick’s voice came in through the comms. “L/n, Cain has intel that there’s a hostage in room 409.”

“Copy that.” Y/n inhaled and said, “I love how it always smells like fresh paint here. Reminds me of how often I moved as a child.”

“No talking,” Jason reminded her. “You'll give away our position.”

“Look out!” Y/n was staring over his shoulder. She quickly lifted her gun and fired a shot at someone. 

Jason shielded away from the noise. “That was close.” He inspected Y/n and said, “there's paint in your hair.” He reached up and smoothed the paint away. “Thanks for shooting that guy.”

“My pleasure.” Y/n followed him around the corner and stared at a door marked 409. “The hostages are in there. Intel says there's a couple of heavily-armed perps with them.”

Jason asked, “you want to wait for backup?”

Y/n shook her head. “No time. We only have a minute to win the record.” She sighed and declared, “I'm going in.” At Jason’s scandalised look, she reassured him, smiling. She gently took Jason’s gun from his hands. “Don't worry. I have a plan on how to beat them: Give up.”

“What?!”

“Trust me,” Y/n said. “Or don't.” She shrugged. “I'm doing it anyway.” Jason’s heart dropped, watching her walk cautiously into the room. She announced, hands holding her guns in the air, “GCPD! Don't shoot!” Inside the room were two perps, guarding three hostages. “I'm here to surrender,” Y/n told them. The hostages looked at her as if she was crazy. “Let the hostages go and take me instead,” she said. 

“Not happening.” One of the perps growled. “Drop your weapon!”

”Okay, okay, my fingers are off the triggers.” Y/n agreed, dangling her guns off her fingers. “I'm just gonna slowly put them down in front of me….” She started crouching down. Jason watched, aghast, from the doorway. “I’m slowly putting 'em…” Suddenly, she twisted her fingers around and pulled the triggers, shooting the two perps in the chest.

“Goddamn it!” One of the perps yelled.

“Dick, time!” Y/n shouted into her comm.

“18 minutes, 28 seconds. You broke the record!” Dick cried back.

“Yes! Nice!” Jason ran in and hugged Y/n tightly, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around. She squealed and hugged him back. 

Jason paraded her out of the room and they greeted their teammates to a chorus of cheers, applause, and claps on the back.

“Ah, there she is!” Dick called.

“The record is ours.” Y/n spread her arms.

“I still can't believe your final kill came from Dick’s move.” Tim shook his head, looking disgusted.

“You went upsy-downsies?” Dick gasped. “That's what I call it, because you hold the gun upside-down.”

Y/n sighed. “Yes, Richard, I went upsy-downsies. And none of you shall ever speak of it again.”

“But I want to speak of it,” Jason whined. “You looked really stupid.”

“Alright, let's go.” Dick grinned. “Drinks are on me.”

“Nice! Here we go, six-six!” Y/n held her hand up to Jason for a high-five, face flushed with excitement.

Jason grimaced. “Actually, Rose asked me to dinner, so maybe I can meet up with you guys afterwards?”

Y/n’s face dropped. “Oh. Sure. Yeah. Of course. Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool cool cool.” Jason nodded and left, giving goodbyes as he walked away.

“What's going on, Gina Thunderhouse?” Cass smirked, sidling up with Steph. 

Y/n muttered, “what do you think Jason sees in Rose?”

“So you do like him!” Steph accused, smiling slyly. 

“I'm just curious!” Y/n tried to defend. “I mean, she's okay-looking and a good cop….” But aren’t I okay-looking and a good cop? “Also, she set the course record, but that's nothing. I broke it, like, 20 minutes later.”

“You want to know why he went out with her and not you?” Cass asked quietly. 

“Yeah.” Y/n swallowed harshly. 

“Because she actually asked him out,” Steph finished.

Captain Wayne raised a brow, looking down at Y/n’s desk. “You won coolest kill?” He gestured to the small tennis trophy Y/n was staring at. 

“No- not by a long shot.” She chuckled dryly. “But Dick bought it for me ‘cause he felt like I should’ve won. But he’s bias, of course.”

“Of course.” Captain Wayne smiled softly. “Detective, are you alright?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Captain,” Y/n mumbled. “Can- can I ask you a question?” 

“Sure, L/n.”

Y/n looked up at Wayne. “How’d you know Clark was the one?” she whispered.

Bruce sighed and offered, “come into my office. And bring your trophy.”

Doing as she was told, Y/n followed Bruce into his office. She sat down and Bruce took the trophy from her, placing it on his desk proudly. “When I first got here, Damian told me of your predicament.” When Y/n’s mouth fell open in betrayal, Bruce held up his hand. “I would’ve figured it out either way. I used to be a detective, after all. But what he didn’t know is if Todd liked you back. However, based on months of observation, I’ve noticed, for lack of a better simile, that Todd follows you like a lost puppy. I should know; I acted the same way towards Clark before we started dating.”

“Did you ask him out?” Y/n asked.

Bruce let out a laugh. “God, no. I was too scared. But that’s not an invitation to make the same mistakes I did. I lost a lot of time with Clark because of my anxiety.”

“Duly noted, Captain. Thank you.”

“Anytime, L/n. And good job in the Tactical Village.”

“Thank you, sir.”

[necrotic-nephilim]

you already talked about jayroytim, but how about dickroytim? 👀👀👀

and it all starts with roy and tim, while dick is seething with rage and jealousy in the background and stubbornly arguing that it's all just bc tim is his younger brother, and not something that roy's dirty brain came up with!

oooh, YES. i LOVE this. your mind. especially if it starts with RoyTim instead of the expected DickRoy or DickTim? that's so good. it's the definition of Roy being a little shit, accidentally seducing Dick's younger brother and sleeping with him. i think it's fun if this specifically highlights Roy's fuckboy era, where he slept with just about anyone and wasn't shy about hiding it, as opposed to him being a bit more mature and careful about sleeping around with Tim, knowing Dick would disapprove. (thinking specifically about the time Roy slept with Helena, Dick's complicated ex situationship and when Dick asked Roy was very casually like "oh dw man i wouldn't get between you two like that, i only slept with her!" and just being so casual about it)

Roy *could* hide it from Dick, and tbh he knows he should. but it's a family full of detectives anyway, so what's the point? Roy can only make up so many excuses for being in Gotham and if Tim is old enough to consent, it's none of Dick's business. even if Roy is sort of rubbing it in his face to *make it* his business. i am delighted by the idea that Roy is almost getting off to how angry Dick is about it. Dick doesn't have a lot of good arguments about why Roy *can't* do this. the "he's basically my baby brother" argument doesn't go very far, and it doesn't seem to be stopping Tim. Tim can pretend to be annoyed and scolding Roy about all the bragging, but Roy sees the hidden smiles.

i think it's also fun if Tim is purposefully doing this to rile Dick up. maybe he and Dick have danced around the idea of feelings, but Dick has always shut down their long stares and lingering touches by saying how Tim is like a brother to him. and so, Tim wants to call his bluff. if he's just Dick's brother, than Dick has no right to get jealous over who Tim does or doesn't like. and Roy is two birds with one stone. not only is he someone for Tim to sleep with to make Dick jealous, Dick's *best friend*, even. but he's someone Tim has genuinely had a thing for, and it's easy for him to play it off as though Roy was the one who came onto him and not Tim making himself obvious bait. he's honestly shocked it's worked as well as it has, with Dick seething every time Tim and Roy are in the same room, even if they're behaving. he lets Roy make the jokes about their sex life and show displays of affection because Tim knows it's building and building for Dick, and eventually, he's going to break.

only Dick went a little too hard on the "brothers" excuse and now it's an excuse sort of believes, which adds a delightful bit of incestual vibes to it. bc Dick tells Tim that he *made his point* a little too late, and now Tim actually likes Roy. so Dick is going to have to explain this to Roy too. and somehow, the awkward conversation leads to Roy suddenly being very interested in an incest kink and seeing exactly how "brotherly" they are-

them all sleeping together is Roy's suggestion, and Tim is *definitely* into the idea, and even Dick is more on board then he expects to be. maybe he and Roy fooled around once when they were kids and it was never thought about beyond a sexuality exploration sort of thing for both of them. but now, Dick has to admit it wouldn't be the *worst* sight to see Roy fuck Tim. after all, Roy has to show Dick how Tim likes it. and Roy is *really* leaning into the brothers thing the whole time.

after the first few times they sleep together, i think Dick would just accept Tim and Roy are a package deal. and of all his friends, Roy really can't be the worst one to date. all the fuckboy stuff stripped away, Roy is a great boyfriend and makes sure Dick and Tim are more than happy. he remembers anniversaries and little "just because" gifts. and he's a great dad, which somehow adds to it all.

anyway yes, i love the potential of these three together with Roy being a Little Shit the entire time just because he can.

[adoresmiles]

His Concealed Obsession

Chapter one.

"I just don't get how you two still have a job when you're both always at my place."

"We just came by to check in on you since the news about your neighbor broke out in the news this morning."

"Oh yeah , I saw it on the news. I feel so bad for her kids. She was always spoke to me whenever we come would come across each other . Invited me over to dinner , go out for lunch and hell she even invited me to spa dates with her and her daughter."

"You talking about Nicole?"

"Yea Jax , the same Nicole you slept with before you married your wife."

"Jaxon Tyree!"

"It was an accident Nani and I don't even know why KP brought it up."

"I hope and pray that my nephew doesn't turn out like you as he gets older."

"With all the amazing women in his life , he's going to come out a thousand times better than me."

"Anyways you need to be careful Kanani, your neighbor who was a well known attorney was murder inside of her."

"Maybe you should come and stay with one of until KP and them get everything done. Cause I be damn if my baby sister gets murdered next."

"I understand you are worried about my safety but if mom and dad haven't said anything about it yet to me then you guys shouldn't either. I'm safe here and I have an alarm system and cameras inside of my apartment."

"Now you know damn well them cameras and alarm systems ain't going to save your short ass."

"You need a guard dog and damn gun. I keep telling you to go ahead and get a gun and take classes on how to use it properly."

"Nope , I refuse to get a gun. You know how I feel about them ever since that damn party."

"Kanani you're killing us right now right now."

"I know and I'm sorry. Look how many who have guns out here and they don't even use it properly?! You have kids going to school shooting their teachers , grown ass adults who went to school coming back for revenge, young black men taking each other out."

"Hate to say this, but it's this shit happens everyday and everywhere Nani."

"Yes but also if we stop giving the wrong people guns and do a fucking throughly background check then it wouldn't be problem. Lock your guns away from your children. It's more  gun violence out there than love and I just refuse to be apart of it."

Kanani stated to her two older brothers as she walked around her kitchen counter to get herself a glass of juice.

"Think about it from our perspective. What if you were in that situation? Would you have fought back ? Call the police ?"

"Calling the police and locking them inside the closet. The closet doors lock from the outside and plus in order to even get inside you need my finger print and the code to get inside the door."

"Not saying I'm on her side here but trying to break down these doors are heavy as hell."

"It sounds like to me you're on little KP side right now. I don't suppose to say this but this per- hold on ... hello? Wassup uncle Mike?"

"While detective KP over there chatting away. Let's talk about where you are going to be staying."

"I'm not leaving my house because of some killer is on the loose. If I feel like I am in great danger then I'll show up on either yours or KP door step."

"You're going to give me gray hairs before Jordan even turns eighteen."

"That sounds like a personal problem Jaxon. Why are you trying to control something that you're not able to control yourself?"

"Because you're my baby sister Nani. If anything were to hap- if someone were to hurt you , I'll gladly sit behind bars for killing them. That goes for KP too! I'm yall older brother and it's my job to make sure that you both are good at all times. Yeah KP a detective and all but that don't matter to me."

"Jaxon I appreciate you and I know you're concerned about my safety but you have to trust me. If I feel as if my life is in jeopardy then you'll be the first one to know. Plea-"

"Aye Jax we got to go , uncle Mike and uncle Marcus need some help with this case. I can drop you off back the fire station or you good?"

"I'm good , Nani can drop me off back at the station."

"Nope , sorry can't do it. I have to go get ready before my friend comes over for our lunch date."

"Damn it's like that?"

"Sure is , now can you guys go so I can go get ready? I need at least two hours to mentally prepare myself."

"We didn't even finish our conversation."

"I'm staying home and that's final. Please don't forget that one of you has to pick up mom and dad from the airport tomorrow afternoon."

"Well I can't do it since this is my weekend it work."

"Why can't you do it?"

"Because I'm the one who dropped them off and plus I have back to back meetings for my store grand opening."

"Oh yeah I forgot , yeah I'll pick them up tomorrow then. I'll have Jordan tag along with me to keep me entertained on the way there."

"Aight now, we out! Be safe and don't be out here grown. We locking the door behind us since yo ass wants to walk away without giving hugs and shit."

"And share your location too, love you big head!"

"Love you too, now bye!"

Kanani expressed to them both as she walked down her hallway that lead into her bedroom. She loved her brother's but after dealing with them for long , she needed a mental reset. Their conversation regarding the circumstances of her neighbor was not necessarily needed. Yes , the situation is sad but it doesn't involve her. She could see if she was there and witnessed it but she wasn't.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a knock on her door. A look of confusion displayed on her face as she looked down the hallway of her home. Kanani wasn't expecting anyone until the next couple of hours. So she was confused on who or what could it possibly be . Dropping her unfolded blanket onto the ground , she decided to go and see who it could be.

"This better not be one of these neighbors kids knocking on my dam- oh hey David, what brings you by?

"These are for you señorita Kanani."

"My favorite flowers, they're so beautiful. Do you know who sent them in?"

"Frangipani plumeria. I unfortunately don't but they did leave a note for you. I have to get going , the other set of flowers are placed on your table."

"Thank you David!"

"Anything for you señorita Kanani. It seems like you have a keeper in your hands."

"That it does , hopefully this note tells me who it is."

"Have a good day."

"....hmmm who the hell sent me two sets of frangipani flowers. Dile si al cielo dime si a mi. Well that is cute of them to put my favorite song on there. Seems like this person really paid attention to me."

Kanani smiled once again as she smelled the freshly picked flowers. Frangipani flowers were simply her favorite since they reminded her of Hawai'i , where she was originally born. Now cheesing ear to ear Kanani quickly arranged the flowers to her liking before rushing off to prepare for her day.

"Today is going to be a really good ass day for me."

Translation

"dile si al cielo dime si a mi" : say yes to heaven say yes to me

[zhuoyichenpretty]

aww yeah ep 20 GOOD

I guess I do (very casual, broadstroke) episode commentaries now, halfway through the show lmao. Spoilers below!!

Bai Jiu BETRAYAL?

Wen Xiao WANTED?

Zhuo Yichen DETECTIVE-ING?

Ying Lei BACK?

*crowd cheers*

The dots are connecting like crazy with the big bad's whole inner core crusade and also with the simultaneous demon case like I did not recognize Ao Yin as the demon Li Lun first released eight years ago but oooh do I enjoy that minor payoff.

Love the repeated use of the demonic-spell-restraining sigils now that we've been introduced to them though I wonder why the Bureau doesn't ever seem to make use of them. Maybe they don't deal with enough powerful demons to need to paint those in their own (very empty) dungeon? Or perhaps just plot convenience. (edit: someone has pointed out the Bureau indeed uses them!! I'm just blind <3)

Anyway I kind of wish in the Chongwu Camp dungeon PSJ fought a little bc she's so cool in action and their bailing was a little abrupt, but it makes sense that they'd have an immediate getaway plan. Also this is an ep 19 comment but that line Mr. 3-Face Mask delivered about PSJ being fated to always be betrayed by her little brother(s) HURT. So good.

Back to the Bureau, I do love me a good framing, and I'm also happy to get a tiny bit of the episodic demon-murder-case style back. WX was v clever to hide out in Situ Mansion, and (small detail but) I appreciate that the others catch her up on the Bai Jiu thing onscreen. As an aside, I also like that the actress for WX got to be double-casted even just briefly. Seeing some of the actors get to play around with portraying various extremes in characterization and costuming is a ton of fun.

And then yay Bai Jiu backstory at last~! It's crazy how much that blood moon fucked up everyone's lives eight years ago huh.

Everything ZYC says to him is on point (and honestly, ZYC is really quite adept at comforting others, he just sucks utter ass at it when it's his fault and he has to apologize lmaooo) but of course my favorite scene in the whole episode is as follows:

The very slight shine in the waterline, the bittersweet smile/grimace as, deliberately or not, ZYC's words indirectly echo everything about the circumstances between the two of them right now??? Whew. They did that for me specifically.

Anyway, this was a good one to chew on for me, packed with plot movement enough that I didn't feel unsatisfied with just one episode. I'm glad that so far it seems like the release schedule bears in mind what episodes should be watched in pairs for maximum effect (eps 16/17, 18/19 specifically) and which ones are okay to stand alone for the day, but I also don't want to speak too soon haha. We'll see how ep 21 fares.

Also since this is a ZYC stan account (lmao) I have some obligatory ZYC thoughts that I haven't managed to fit anywhere else. I've been meaning to comment on this for a while now and was reminded by this episode: I love the fact that ZYC actually smiles quite often. I think it's a bit surprising every time he does because he so easily fits the archetype of stoic broody action hero, but it really is just an archetype he's fit himself into, and it's never clearer than when they flash back to smiley baby!ZYC (how freely and purely he used to give those smiles away...).

On the other side of this is also how caustic and biting he can be with his words, whether sarcastically or otherwise, and how clearly his face telegraphs his emotions in general. I love that he actually emotes quite a lot and isn't cold and unaffected in the least, just pouty frowny and awkward.

The last piece to this for me is probably his age (which I very much appreciated being established super early on) and how convincingly TJR portrays him as young and inexperienced and extremely earnest. He's so sincere in everything he does that it really doesn't take much to move him, which also (imo) makes his arc less overdone.

We all know from the start what direction his development will likely go, how he'll learn he's mistaken about ZYZ and how he'll grow to have a more nuanced view of the world as he creates more bonds with others. But he's so emotional and emotionally aware that it doesn't really take much push and pull to get him there. And actually, it's not untread ground to him—he is moreso thawing, in part returning to the open-hearted nature that he had to very abruptly shutter away rather than fundamentally changing as a person. I think to me, that makes his character more compelling to watch because his cynicism about the world is perhaps the least sincere thing about him. It's entirely learned, and not by choice. Relatable.

[modernsuperhero]

Who are these fun characters and why are they taking over my dash? /pos /please tell me abt your blorbos

i'm assuming you mean these little guys:

These guys are my newest silliest dudes from the webcomic School Bus Graveyard! It's free to read on webtoons here and is currently in talks to get a TV adaptation soon so now is 1000% the time to be getting into it!! It's basically a supernatural mystery about six high school freshmen from Georgia who go on a field trip and end up sucked into a demon dimension every time it hits midnight! It's super cool - the pacing is very good imo, a good balance of the Main Plot (oh no we need to survive the Demon Dimension again, also Why Are We In A Demon Dimension) with character development and backstory stuff!

The characters are badass but in a way I feel is very realistic? Like, not just "oh i'm the protagonist suddenly i know how to judo flip armies the moment i'm in danger" but more like "i'm going to train for months in self defense classes to build up some basic muscles" kinda way. The characters themselves are also pretty well fleshed out - they're not just the typical archetypes. Like, the "weak bullied nerd kid" isn't JUST a weak bullied nerd kid, he has well developed motivations and backstory and simultaneously realistic and satisfying character growth.

There are implied potential/future romances but it is so NOT the core point of the story, so whether or not that's your thing you can either ignore it or get excited about it in equal measure. The characters also aren't just edgy and gritty "we must deal with this alone... augh misery woe is us..." they actively do what they can to use all the resources available to them (including trying to get help from their parents, which is an ick for me in other media when the kid protagonists just refuse to ask for help? or assume they can't without trying? anyway).

I would say to be careful about any warnings at the beginning of specific chapters, because some can get quite violent.

The six main characters, without giving to many spoilers, are as follows under the cut (cuz this got long):

The protagonist Ashlyn, an asocial ballerina with her loving ex-military parents, who has a condition that gives her incredibly sensitive/enhanced hearing (she ends up using this to help detect the monsters after them, since they're otherwise silent to the other protagonists!)

Aiden, a creepily-smiley ex-homeschooled rich kid who has no concept of social convention or personal space. Has forcibly chosen Ashlyn to be his friend during his first year in school against her will and ends up accidentally setting off the chain of events leading to the Plot. (I love him. He definitely has Every Mental Illness <3)

Ben, Aiden's incredibly physically intimidating cousin, who is mute and so, so sweet and gentle and follows Aiden like his shadow, in part to take care of him when Aiden's antics get him injured and in part because Ben's muteness makes it incredibly difficult for people to understand him. Aiden, however, can understand his nonverbal communications with ease

Taylor, a friendly girl's girl who tries (often in vain) to befriend Ashlyn. Is also a talented mechanic who ends up putting googly eyes on her weapon once they end up in the Demon Dimension. She's the most Emotionally Aware Person Here but also she's like, 15, so, the bar is on the floor

Tyler, Taylor's twin brother, a somewhat aggressive and rude baseball jock who mostly Minds His Own Damn Business aside from his clinginess to Taylor. In fact they wear matching outfits in almost every episode of the comic it's so funny and cute. Is often found fighting bullies to defend their victims so i forgive him for all his own asshole crimes he's just a dude. he's one of my little guys

Logan, who is canonically compared to a puppy. Shy, intelligent, and incredibly empathetic! My partner's favorite character who has one of the best character arcs so far imo. Likes photography, astrology, and gardening. I think they should give him more guns, as a treat. He can never have enough

anyways thank you for the ask! overall i highly recommend - it's still ongoing, we're currently in the middle of season two!! the mystery is unfolding, there's funny and sweet moments along with the intense ones, and i am INVESTED. :DDDDDD

[fangirlfrom-hell]

One of Those Days || Jay Halstead x Halstead Sister

We deserved more interactions between Kim and Jay, that's all I'm saying.

I was thinking about this day where I was feeling super shitty at school, my self harm habits were horrible back then and I always wanted to cry. Since my mom was working, I texted my aunt and she took me to her house. She knew I was pretending to have a headache, but anyway followed my game. My little cousin lend me her bed to lay down and she decided it was a good idea to read The Little Prince for me to fall asleep 💕

“Do you want me to call your dad?” The receptionist at school asked the girl infront of her. Her head was slightly lowered and her hair covered a good part of her face.

“Can you call my brother instead?” Becca asked in a low crackly voice.

The receptionist sighed, “Sure. But you know I can’t let you go without your dad’s permission”

The girl nodded and sat in the hard plastic chairs of the office to wait while the woman spoke on the phone.

“…Yes, she has a headache…She’s alright, but seems like it’s getting worse. The nurse checked her, but can’t really do much. Sure, she’s at the office. Thank you, Mr. Halstead”

“Becca, your brother will be here as soon as he can. Go get your stuff, I’ll call your dad to let him know”

She didn't really have a headache, but it seemed like "fake it 'til you make it" was a real thing because she was now starting to feel discomfort in her head. Although it might have been because she was struggling not to cry in front of everyone. Her nose was now red, and her eyes were watery. Everybody thought it was due to allergies or the flu, but in reality, she was swallowing hard, trying to retain tears rolling down.

“Let’s go, Beccs”, Jay said while picking up his sister’s backpack from the floor.

The walk to the parking lot was silent; she knew that if she talked, she would burst into tears. A hole in her chest appeared the minute she saw her brother, and now it was growing fast inside of her.

Jay was eagerly typing on his phone, dealing with work issues he couldn't leave for later. He was worried; since he received the call from the school, his gut told him Becca's emergency wasn't about being sick, and now, even looking at her sideways, he could confirm it.

The detective opened the car a few steps before they reached it. Both siblings went to the same side of the truck, the girl ready to jump inside, while her brother was putting her belongings on the back seat. When Jay closed the door, Becca was still outside waiting for him. She was scratching her eye, and as soon as their gazes crossed, she started to silently cry. Instinctively, brother and sister took a step forward to hug each other; there was no time for Jay to bend to her height, so she squeezed his waist tightly.

"Did something happen, or is it only the feeling?" He tilted his ear to be able to hear the answer.

Becca moved her head, saying no, her face still sunken in his stomach, "Only the feeling."

"Alright," he softly said. They stayed like that for a moment before actually going inside the truck.

With a mixture of affection and concern, Jay stared at his sister before starting the car. "Do you want to talk?" He spoke gently. Her delicate attempt to wipe away the evidence of her tears with the sleeve of her sweater tugged at his heartstrings.

Becca despised being seen in such a fragile state; the vulnerability on display only heightened her emotions. It struck her as ironic that the very person who made her feel secure and shielded, her brother, was the one in front of whom she felt the most exposed. In the tumult of her emotions, Jay remained her safe person, the only one she could trust.

"It's the pain in the chest, the black hole. It's growing."

He frowned with a slight nod. Jay knew perfectly what she was talking about, and he hated to be so powerless about it.

"I don't want to go home," she begged. Becca's face made Jay's heart drop; you could see the pain in her puffy eyes and her cheeks a bit swollen along with her pink nose.

He swallowed hard, "I honestly wouldn't take you there even if you asked me to. You are coming with me, but I still have things to do at the bullpen."

“I can wait”

On the road back to the 21st District, Jay’s phone never stopped ringing, but anyway he passed by a drive-thru to get an ice-cream for Becca, a nice attempt to cheer her up a bit.

“Feeling a bit better?” He asked before getting inside of the building. At least, the crying was controlled for a moment. “Alright, let’s go”.

It was obvious she had been crying, but nobody said a thing about it. All the cops, detectives and seargets greeted the girl with a warm smile and acted normal around her.

Becca stayed in the coffee room and never got out of there. After all the weeping, exhaustion took its toll, and she found herself drifting into sleep on the arm of the sofa. Jay periodically entered to check on her, his stress evident as he felt the weight of time pressing against him. The clock relentlessly ticked away, yet the workload showed no sign of diminishing.

Kim noticed, and after preparing to leave by taking her coat and bag, she approached her friend. "Hey! I'm already done here and heading home. If you want, and if she wants to, I can take Becca with me. I just need to pick up Mak from school, and then we'll be home."

The detective hesitated, “Uhm—“

"Look, I don't know what's going on with her, but at least she can properly rest there..." Kim's voice carried a note of genuine concern, her eyes reflecting a mix of empathy and worry for both of them.

They turned their heads to see how the girl was all tangled in her spot.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. That way you won’t have the pressure—I mean, you’ll still have the pressure, but it will be different knowing she’s comfortable in a safe place…I know the feeling, Jay”

After a few seconds of deliberating in his mind, he thankfully agreed only for his sister’s comfort.

“Don’t worry, don’t rush. You can pick her up whenever you can, doesn’t matter if it’s late”, Burgess said before departing and Jay knew she was honest, “I’ll take care of her”

Makayla was delighted with Becca's presence but was too shy to interact with her. Since they didn't have visitors often, this was kind of a new experience for her.

"Mak," her mom called, "Becca is not feeling very well, would you lend her your bed for a little while so she can rest?"

"Sure!" Despite her short life, Makayla's tender heart had already weathered enough storms, shaping her into a compassionate soul capable of understanding when someone else was beaten down or in pain. She sensed all that in Becca and was willing to make her feel good. "I can even lend her my stuffies," she added as an innocent gesture. Now addressing their guest directly, she continued, "They'll keep you company and won't be scary if you wake up in the dark."

Kim guided Becca to the room and arranged everything for her, picking up some clothes and toys that her daughter had left on the floor. Meanwhile, Makayla was opening drawers and climbing them to reach the highest shelf where the books were placed.

"There you go, make yourself comfortable," Burgess said while still fixing the unmade bed.

“And I’ll read you something to help you sleep”, Makayla approached holding a big book with her small hands.

“Mak, sweetie, no. We’re going out while she sleeps, okay? But you can read to me”, she took her hand to lead her out.

“No, mom. She doesn’t need to be alone right now”, Makayla’s big dark eyes were over Becca. “She needs a story, that’s what you do when I am sad”

Suddenly, the pain in Becca's chest intensified, and the gaping hole seemed to expand. It was as if her new little friend could read her mind. Becca yearned to be alone to release the pent-up tears, yet a lingering understanding told her that solitude might not be the best course of action.

“It’s alright, Kim. This her room, after all”

“Yas!” Mak jumped out of excitement. “Now, you lay down here and close your eyes. I’m going to read you a story that always make me feel better when I am not happy…”

With a smile and slowly going out of the room, Burgess leaved the two girls alone.

“The Little Prince is one of my favorite books too, Makayla”

“I knew it” her smile was bright.

As Becca listened to the reading, she feigned sleep. A few tears escaped her eyes, but she skillfully concealed them. Eventually, the reading ceased, and Becca sensed Mak's tiny face drawing near, checking if she was truly asleep. The youngest Halstead heard Makayla's footsteps departing from the room, but then she returned, placing a stuffed animal between Becca's arms. "Don't leave her alone, Buttons," she whispered before descending the stairs with her mommy.

Slowly, Becca opened her eyes and as soon as she made sure she was alone, she started an intense crying, trying not to make a lot of noise. She turned to give her back to the door, hidding in case someone came in. Clutching the stuffed animal tightly, she cried until exhaustion enveloped her, eventually lulling her into a fitful sleep.

She awoke in Jay's bed, disoriented about how she got there, a Mak's plush toy still nestled between her arms. Rising from the bed, a sudden wave of dizziness hit her, her head throbbing, and the discomfort in her chest persisting. When she emerged into the living room, her brother was seated on the sofa. Becca raised Buttons with one hand, a question mark etched on her face, silently seeking an explanation.

“Makayla insisted you should take it for tonight”, he answered simply.

“Oh. That's sweet”

"How are you feeling?" Jay asked, standing up to approach her, but she just shrugged. "Stupid question?"

"It's just—"

"One of those days," he completed. "I know."

"A terrible one, and it's not over yet" There was a long silence and Jay knew she was trying to say something, so he gave her time. "I was scared, Jay."

Those last words sent shivers down his spine, he understood what she was referring to and was also frightened but couldn't admit it in front of her. He masked his concern, assuring her, "You should never be scared, I'm here with you."

"I know", she gave him a hug.

"Do you want to talk now?" Becca hurriedly said no only with her head, and her brother understood.

"Okay", Jay sighed, "You haven't eaten a thing all day. Food should make you feel better. What about pizza, a movie, and the company of your favorite brother, hm?"

"What? Is Will coming?" Becca teased him, finally smiling.

"Ha! A joke, that's a sign that you are already feeling better."

The evening unfolded and laughter echoed through the room as they enjoyed the movie. Yet, even in her weariness, Becca managed to stay awake for a fleeting moment. As she drifted into sleep, the pain in her chest, a constant companion throughout the day, was miraculously eased by the gentle touch and care of her brother.

[halfblackwolfdemon]

This is so fucking amazing! Aaah, I love everything about this story!! Eee!

For the prompt ask game!

9. Sleep deprivation and/or 37. Secret Relationship and/or 40. Identity reveal/major secret reveal

(I selected a few so you can chose the one that resonates the most.)

For any DPxDC characters. <3

*emerges from a google docs, covered in blood and panting* i did it... it is done.

thank you for the prompt!! because i love a challenge, or because i can't stop myself, i went and did all of them!! for everyone!! everyone is sleep deprived and everyone is revealing secrets ^^'

Danny/Tim, mentioned Jazz/Jason

(๑•́ ₃ •̀๑) enjoy!! prompt ask game

kid napping

“Red Robin, sound off. Status?”

“All good here, Oracle. Everything okay?”

It’s been a slow night, never a good sign. Pent up energy itches under his skin and he stretches when he stands, preparing for whatever Oracle is going to throw his way. It’s going to be something, he can tell.

“Good.” Relief briefly colours her voice answers, before she becomes serious again, keys clacking away in the background. “There’s been a report from Agent A. It appears that one Timothy Drake has been kidnapped and is being ransomed for five million dollars and a helicopter. I’m tracing the call now.”

“A helicopter, too? Kidnappers these days, used to be they just wanted their money and that would be the end of it… a fucking helicopter, wow.” Red Hood scoffs, and Red Robin can’t help but join in the laughter over the comms.

“Doesn’t exactly sound like these are the brightest tools in the shed now, does it, Hood? Wonder what poor schmuck they’ve got instead.” Nightwing says, slightly out of breath. 

The smile slips off Red Robin’s face and clammy, cold dread shivers down his spine. A stone settles in his stomach. He wets his lips and clears his throat. “Oracle, can you pull up the CCTV on my apartment near WE? Any closer to tracing the call?”

“Still on the trace, they’re using a jammer. Agent A is cooperating so they should phone back soon, which will help.” she reports, falling into silence as he finds the video feed.

“You know who it is?”

“I hope not.”

It’s tense, he taps his feet on the rooftop, fingers tightening over his grapple as he fights the urge to fly off the roof and check for himself. It better not be him. Please, dear God, don’t let it not be him.

“What are you thinking, Red Robin?” Batman growls through the comms. Red Robin can hear the wind under his words, whipping fast as he no doubt makes his way over to his position.

“I had a, uh, a friend coming over tonight. From behind, he… he could be mistaken for Tim Drake.”

The jokes fall silent, the comms growing serious as they pick up on his tone.

“Well, fuck.” 

“Eloquent as always, Hood.”

“Shut up, bat-brat.”

“You were right, Red Robin, it looks like it was your… friend they caught, instead. About two hours before the call came in. I’m following their van now, I should have the destination soon. In the meantime, it looks like they’re heading towards the docks.”

Red Robin throws himself off the building, shooting his grapple as low as he dares to get the fastest swing he can. 

They have Danny. 

Worry gnaws at his gut even as gravity pulls it into his throat with another swing.

Danny is… And Red Robin means this in the nicest way possible, but Danny is fragile. They haven’t talked about it, but RR knows that Danny has health problems. Something plaguing him since he was young, that’s landed him in the hospital more than once. A weak heart, far too slow to be normal, possibly chronic fatigue—he’s always so tired, falling asleep anywhere he can.

Sometimes, he doesn’t even need to put his head down. Once, when they had gone to the corner store to get some popcorn to enjoy their movie (which Danny had explicitly and repeatedly promised he wouldn’t snore through this time), Danny had rested his head on Tim’s shoulder while they were waiting and he’d just… gone. On his feet, asleep, just like that.

He’d laughed, when Tim woke him up. Apologised. Said Tim made him feel safe enough to fall asleep just about anywhere and—

Red Robin grits his teeth and corrects his course as Oracle updates them with more precise coordinates.

Tim had carried him home that night, piggy-back for four blocks, but by the end of it, he wasn’t tired at all. And that’s another thing, Danny’s just so light. It’s concerning.

They never did watch that movie, but it’s a night that Tim can’t help remembering fondly all the same. They’d ended up rewatching some old sitcom that Danny’s seen countless times but Tim’s never really bothered with, Danny drifting off to sleep again and Tim eventually following him, because… sleep is easy with Danny.

It’s the same for him, he thinks. He can’t explain it, but he feels safe enough to sleep with Danny, too.

He needs to be alright.

“So… Is this friend just a friend? Or a friend friend?” 

“A friend, Nightwing. Now hurry up.”

He’s not in the mood to play these games, not now. There’s a reason why none of them know about Danny, and this is one of them. His family, as much as he loves them, are just too damn nosey for their own good.

“You know that doesn’t answer my question at all.”

“Then why don’t you ask something intelligible, rather than continue with your childish antics?” Robin snarks, and for once, Red Robin has to agree with him. Or, rather, he’s grateful for the distraction that it gives him.

Tim has secrets. He’s sure that Danny does, too, and so far—aside from the standard background check he always runs on new friends and friend friends alike—he’s done very well to respect them. He just can’t say that his family would do the same.

They can be overwhelming, to say the least, and Tim has tried his best to protect Danny from that.

Only to fail to protect him in every other way that it counts.

“How long have you guys been ‘friends’?”

“Nightwing, save it, please.”

“What’s his name?”

He ignores him.

Red Robin lands on the building first, thank goodness. He wastes no time in finding a skylight that can be pried open fairly quietly, slipping inside without a second thought.

“Wait for backup, Red Robin, that is an order!” Batman says, when he lets them know he’s in.

“Negative, Batman. I’m getting him back.”

“Red Robin!”

He weaves silently through the desks on the second floor of the warehouse, always moving, always keeping a trained eye on the shadows around him.

When he reaches the stairs, he hears voices.

“Looks like three of them, armed. The-the hostage is tied to a chair in the middle of the room, he…” Red Robin takes a steadying breath. The person has a burlap sack over their head is slumped to the side, from where he is, Red Robin can’t see if his chest is moving. There’s blood on the floor. “He needs medical assistance. Another two on the northside entrance.”

The comms explode in admonitions, everyone pleading with him to stay where he is, to wait for help, but fuck that. With a tap, he switches them off and he can finally, just about make out the words of the kidnappers as he creeps down the first few steps.

“—shouldn’t he have woken up by now?”

“I don’t know, man, you’re the one that hit him! Do you think he’s—”

“No! I didn’t even hit him that hard, I swear!” the man cries, holding his hands up in surrender. “I just couldn’t take any more of his stupid jokes!”

If there was any doubt in Red Robin’s mind that they picked up Danny by mistake, it’s gone now. Yeah. If you get Danny, you get his stupid jokes, too.

He creeps closer. 

There’s some storage crates between him and Danny, if he can get behind there without being seen then that leaves him in a good position for when whoever’s next in takes out the guys at the front. He can’t do anything without them gone first, not without risking them taking shots inside and endangering Danny.

The man that hit Danny circles round behind him and grabs at his hands.

“What are you even doing, Pat? Who gives a shit, leave him alone.”

“I’m just checking! I just gotta see!”

“Fuck’s sake, guys, who cares? We just gotta get our money, that’s it—”

“And our helicopter!”

“And our—”

“Shit, I can’t find a pulse! Shit, Frank, I killed him, I—”

Jason told him once that when the Pits overtook him, he used to see green. Instead of blacking out, he’d be swimming in that putrid Lazarus colour and he’d slip into that rage and bad things would happen.

He’s heard of people seeing red, too, but really, he thinks that’s more of a literary device.

Tim doesn’t see anything aside from his targets.

A barrage of birdarangs take the guns from the guys at the front, the three around Danny startling badly enough that the guy that kil—that’s behind Danny—stumbles, losing his footing.

Only one of them shoots.

Amateurs. 

There’s a round of curses on the comms as the shots come through. Oracle must have turned them back on.

“Fucking hell—Nightwing and I are at the front, Red Robin, don’t worry about them.”

Red Robin’s barely listening.

He spins, kicking the largest guy in the stomach hard enough so that he doubles over, wheezing. Following through the movement, another kick lands on the side of his head and he’s down. 

The second one, Frank, gets his wits about him and raises his gun, spraying wildly. He’s a shit shot, going wide in panic, and Red Robin simply ducks and rushes forward, keeping low. Tackling the guy, he grabs the gun off of him and uses it to smash him across the face, once, twice, three times, before he stops moving.

“Oracle, get police and paramedics on scene, now.” Batman says, the displeasure in his voice evident. “Red Robin, Robin and I are coming in from the top.”

Pat hasn’t even made it up off the floor yet, scrambling backwards, fear plain on his face. 

Red Robin stands, breathing heavily, gun still in hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to do it! Please—please, don’t, please!”

Red Robin doesn’t kill.

Well, no, Red Robin doesn’t normally kill.

No, that’s not quite right, either.

Red Robin has killed. Red Robin will more than likely kill again. Red Robin sees no problem with killing.

The gun is up, pointing towards the guy without any real thought about it.

Footsteps rush behind him, the familiar heavy footfalls of Batman and Robin, so he doesn’t bother turning around. The gun follows the guy as he keeps pulling himself backwards, snot and tears mingling down his face.

“Red Robin,” Batman says, softly.

It’s always weird hearing Batman’s voice like that. It’s not the first time, obviously—Batman can’t use his scary intimidating voice on victims or children, after all—but having it used on him is weird. 

“Breathe.”

“He’s dead. They killed him.”

If hearing Batman’s voice was weird, Red Robin can’t even recognise his own.

Distantly, he realises he’s dissociating. There’s a tightness in his chest, it’s hard to breathe, a growing buzz drowns out any noise in his ears and he can’t think, he can’t—

A heavy hand squeezes his shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts. Batman reaches around and gently removes the gun from his grip, and Tim feels the instant loss of it. He should have done it, why hadn’t he done it?

Robin takes care of the last man, his crying cut off by a swift kick to the head. Nightwing and Red Hood join them, zip-tying the men on the floor and starting to drag them back to the entrance of the warehouse one by one.

No one says a word.

Shrugging off Batman’s hand, Tim moves towards the chair.

Shaking, he takes a deep breath and removes the sack. The small part of him that was left hoping it wasn’t him, it couldn’t be him, please dear God let it not be him, shatters.

Even dead, he looks peaceful.

Tim’s seen death. He’s no stranger to it, he’s seen what it can do to a person. There’s some blood coagulating over his eyebrows, but otherwise, he looks peaceful. Is that comforting? That he didn’t suffer?

Danny’s head lolls to the side as the sack comes completely away, his hair flopping over his eyes. Tim’s been on at him to get a haircut lately, he thinks it’ll be nice tidied up a bit, just on the sides. It’ll get rid of that permanent bedhead. Help him with job interviews, he’s got to be thinking about that now that he’s in his last year of college.

It’s about the only thing that’ll hold him back, Tim thinks. Danny’s brilliant. Any employer would be a fool to turn him down because of his shaggy hair, but employers are stupid so it makes sense to put your best foot forward and—

Tim falls to his knees.

Fuck.

He’s dead, he’s really—Danny’s skin is horribly pale, cold to the touch. Gone is his bright, cheerful smile. 

“Danny, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, I—” 

He stops himself with a deep, shuddering breath. He can’t break down here, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t.

Instead, he tips forward to rest his head in Danny’s lap, arms curling around himself. They were too late. They got here as fast as they could and they were too late.

 “Danny, I’m so sorry…” he whispers. “I… I love you, I love you, I’m sorry.”

Dimly, he can feel the others standing around them. Someone crouches down beside him, resting a comforting arm over his back, but he doesn’t turn his head to see who it is. He squeezes his grip on Danny’s legs tighter.

“Come on, baby bird. Let’s—”

They’re interrupted by a huge, honking snore as Danny jerks himself awake.

Tim’s head snaps up, staring at Danny with wide eyes.

“You were asleep?” Red Robin springs up, several different emotions rapidly flip flopping through him.

“Wha… What?” Danny heaves a yawn, blinking blearily down at him. “Sorry, I’m just… they were shit kidnappers, man, really boring. Honestly, worst abduction yet.”

“You were asleep? I thought you were dead!”

“Not mutually exlusive, you know.” Danny says through another yawn. He rolls his neck around with an almighty crack and glances at everyone. “Didn’t think I’d warrant the whole Bat brigade, though…”

“The kidnappers thought they had Tim Drake.” Batman supplies, while Red Robin tries to work through the emotional whiplash.

“Ah, makes sense… wait.” Danny sits up suddenly, squinting at Red Robin. “Did you say you loved me?”

“No, of course not, why would I—”

“Tim? Is that—are you—are you Red Robin?”

“Everyone, hold the fuck up!” Red Hood shouts from the other side of the warehouse, having finished securing the perps to a streetlight outside. “Double R is dating Danny fucking Nightingale?”

Well, there goes his identity… Oh, who’s he kidding, Danny’s smart. There’s no way he could have salvaged that. This was not how he thought the night was going to go.

“Cranberry, is that you?” Danny twists in his chair, somehow delighted to see Red Hood rescuing him, too. “I thought I smelled you lurking about!”

“Shut it, you little shit. Since when were you dating this dweeb?”

“I’m sorry,” Red Robin pleads, hands in the air to try and slow down the onslaught of information and insults, “you two know each other?”

“Cranberry?” Nightwing echoes, looking as lost as Red Robin feels.

“Yeah, Cranberry—The Cranberries—zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie. Obviously. Also he’s wearing a big, fuck off red helmet.”

“Yeah, sure, makes sense.”

It’s about the only thing that does.

“And please don’t call my boyfriend a dweeb, Cranberry. Especially when he just said he loves me for the first time.”

“He only said it because he thought you were dead.”

“I am dead, so it counts.”

“Only half, so I’d say that puts you at a solid ‘like’. Tim’s—and savour this, Tim, because I’m only going to say it once—Tim’s intelligent, so I’m sure he’ll come to his senses soon.”

Danny just throws Red Hood such a shit-eating grin. A level of feral that Tim’s only seen before in Damian. 

“That’s what I used to say about Jazz, too.”

Hood scoffs in offence, and to be honest, Tim’s not sure where he should go from here. What the hell is happening, how do they know each other?

“Come on, is anyone going to untie me or am I really meeting your family mafia-style?”

“Do it yourself, Slimer.” Red Hood laughs, crossing his arms.

“Ugh, you suck so much. I’ll fucking slime you, just you wait. Can’t believe Jazz even likes you, I preferred it when she was dating Johnny.”

And then, without Danny doing anything other than muttering obscenities at Red Hood, the ropes fall to the ground. In one swift motion, Danny stands up and stretches himself to his full height of 5’6.

“All of you need to explain, now.” commands Batman, and honestly, Red Robin’s very much on his side of it.

“I can’t believe it… Jason and Timmy are both in secret relationships? That’s… How come no one told me?” Poor Nightwing sounds the most shocked out of all of them. He turns to Damian and clasps onto both of his shoulders. “You’re not secretly dating, are you, D? Please tell me you’re not, please tell me you’re single, please?”

Of course, Robin just clicks his tongue and pushes his hands away. Really, Red Robin doesn’t think that Nightwing’s in any danger of that happening, he’d be surprised if anyone could stand Robin enough to actually date him.

He shakes his head and turns to Danny, who’s staring right back at him, worry clear on his face.

Fuck, he... He's alive. He's really alive.

Tim pulls him into a bone-crushing hug, fingers buried deep in his NASA shirt. Tucking his face into the crook of Danny's shoulder, he laughs wetly with the joy of it. He's alive. He hasn't lost him. He's safe.

“I’m sorry I haven’t told you before now, starshine, but…” Danny breaks the hug and softly pulls away from him to rise on his tiptoes to place a kiss his cheek. The skin burns cold where his lips touch. “I love you, too. Also, you’re gonna wanna sit down. This is going to be a lot.”

[memoria-99]

I just realized the "Would you date them in real life" poll for IkeVil already ended.

I'm surprised it ended with 519 votes! (When I did the one for IkePri it was 401 votes within the same length of time)

And the result was:

Harrison 17.5% Ellis 12.7% Victor 12.3% Ring 12.1% William 11.4% Liam 10% Jude 8.9% Elbert 5.4% Roger 5.2% Alfons 2.3% Darius 1.3% Nica 0.8%

So here's my answer to "Would you date them?"

William: Yes, cuz he's super rich and could spoil me. I honestly don't think I could have a proper romance with a riddle generator, but being spoiled by a rich guy is nice anyway.

Harrison: I'm not very sure... I think yes. True, he lies a lot, but he's smart, and though he pretends he's not he's actually a very caring person. I like that. And I like reading detective stories too, so I could be his good reading partner.

Liam: Yes. Of course. This kitty boy is so precious and devoted. I'm sure he would do everything he could for me and would never make me cry, except when he's in self-deprecation mode. I would cuddle him and try my best to give him a reason to live.

Elbert: Ummm. No. I know he's precious. But I just think he would break at any moment... Plus, he barely eats anything. I love eating. I don't wanna be looked like a weirdo everytime I enjoy my meal. I want someone to eat together. And I don't wanna be taxidermized. I know I'm objectively less beautiful than him but he has a weird sense of judging beauty so...

Alfons: I may have a terrible taste in men, and I know someone like him is not the best choice I could take, but yes. Dating him actually sounds interesting. He acts very vague so I might fail to make a fine romance with him, but I won't regret trying.

Roger: I almost forgot him again. And my answer is no. He would be a good friend. I don't think of him as more than that.

Jude: Sorry, no. And this is mainly due to a personal reason; I really really hate the smell of cigarettes. Other than that, I think he's fine... maybe. If I could get used to his language and sadistic side, that is.

Ellis: First my answer was no, cuz he might kill me. In second thought, however, it changed to yes. Except the killing part he's a very sweet and devoting guy. And all I have to say is I'm not at my happiest yet.

Victor: Yes or no. Half half. He's cheerful, good cook, overall a nice boyfriend material, but for some reason he looks more like a good older brother to me.

Darius: ... Yes. Maybe I really do have a terrible taste in men after all. He's the only guy here I was attracted to at very first sight. I would gladly play milk puzzle with him.

Nica: He's attractive, and looks interesting, but... no. In real life I won't know if I'm just being one of his toys. And I don't want that.

Ring: Well, yes or no. He's a very good boy. A little too good perhaps. He's just too innocent and baby so I would even feel guilty for dating him. I think I'd prefer to keep him as a younger brother.

...

So it seems I would date most of them.

[vodika-vibes]

The Brotherhood - Stat Wars AU

Summary: Misfit is kicked from the 501st and barred from joining Rex with the 332nd. Though, he was warned that this would happen.

Characters: Clone OC - Misfit, ARC Trooper Fives, Clone Trooper Tup, Clone Trooper Dogma, Commander Fox, Captain Rex, ARC Trooper Jesse (mentioned)

Word Count: 764

“I know you're not thrilled, Misfit-” Rex says slowly as he looks at his, very unimpressed, little brother, “But this might be a good thing.”

Misfit pulls a cigarette out of his jumpsuit pocket and slips it between his lips, though he doesn't light it just yet, “A good thing, huh?”

“You're not made for military life, vod. You've been miserable since the war started-”

“-so you're ditching me.” Misfit replies, finally pulling his lighter from his pocket and lighting the stick hanging from his lips.

“I…wish you wouldn't say it like that.”

“Oh? Is there a nicer way to phrase it?” Misfit asks sarcastically as he flicks an unkempt curl off his forehead.

“Misfit, vod,” Rex sighs, “You haven't exactly made any friends over the years. You convinced Barriss Offee to leave the order.”

“I convinced her that terrorism wasn't going to prove her point.” Misfit corrects as he blows some smoke out the side of his mouth, “Her leaving the order was just the next best thing.”

Rex is quiet for a long time, “Ahsoka tried to have you transferred to her, but the Admiral decided that you're a liability. Your drug use is rather well known at this point.” He shakes his head, “I'm sorry, vod. But there's no longer a choice. Maybe…maybe you should talk to the jedi about rehab.”

Misfit flicks some ash off his cigarette, “I'd sooner eat my blaster.” There's a shout from the doorway, and Misfit turns his cold gaze to his older brother, “Better get going, Commander.” Somehow, the rank sounds like an insult.

Rex lingers for a moment, and then he turns away, “Don't do anything drastic, Misfit. We'll talk when I get back, maybe get you sent to the 212th.”

“I won't hold my breath.” Misfit leaves before Rex reaches the door, and Rex's shoulders slump as he walks over to Jesse, who sympathetically claps him on the shoulder. 

Misfit walks through the clone Barracks, breezing past his brothers, content with them ignoring him. He turns down a side hall, goes down a flight of stairs, and kicks open a swinging door that leads to a darkened, musty smelling hallway.

The hallway leads to one place, a large room that's been ignored for years. Well, officially at least.

Misfit reaches the door and keys in the code that he was given earlier that day. The door slides open and Misfit steps into a well lit and clean smelling room.

“Do you have to smoke that in here?” Fives asks from where he's flipping a blade between his fingers.

“It's this or I throw myself off the roof, take your pick, vod.” Misfit replies.

“Put it out, Misfit.” Fox orders from where he's scanning a datapad, “I'm guessing you're here because you've been kicked out of the 501st.”

“And the 332nd.” Misfit confirms as he puts his cigarette out in the convenient ashtray. “Just like you said.”

“I'm sure it wasn't personal,” Tup says from where he's examining the blade attached to his wrist. “You know what Rex is like.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Misfit tucks his cigarette behind his ear, and drops into a chair next to Dogma, “Anyway, why am I here with three vod'e who are supposed to be dead?”

Fox smirks and drops a strange looking blade on the table in front of Misfit. It straps to the inside of his wrists, and a sharp blade pops out from the hilt as he flexes his wrist. “This is a hidden blade,” Fox explains, “perfect for assassinations.”

“Will you finally tell us what you're planning?” Dogma asks.

Fox drops in a seat, a small smirk on his face, “I'm making an assassination squad. The four of you were chosen because all four of you are quiet in the Force. According to Vos, you're force quiet.”

“Meaning?” Tup asks.

“You're force sensitive enough that other force sensitives can't detect you.” Fox leans forward, “I'm sure you can tell that there are a lot of people in the galaxy who deserve to die. People we can't touch. That's what you four are for.”

“You want us to be your personal assassins?” Fives asks.

“No, I am going to be completely hands off from here on out. You'll do your own research, gather your own evidence. Your targets are your choice.” Fox says, “Fives will be in charge.”

Fives pauses and a dark smirk crosses his face, “Palpatine will be our first target.” He leans over the table as Fox leaves the room, “Welcome to the Assassin's Brotherhood.” Fives almost purrs, as he drops a map of the senate on the table, “We're going to save everyone.”

[siconetribal]

Put it on My Tab Part 12

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Tag: @vbecker10 @wordsfromshona @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m @dakotali @antiquecultist

Warning: Mild swearing, Jason is in trouble, Siblings will be siblings

Summary:

Everyone deserves time off, and the vigilantes of Gotham are no exception to the rule. The boys decide to take a weekend to let loose. Who knew a few drinks would lead to a stranger in bed?

Author Note:

I'll probably be out of commission for a couple weeks due to a surgery that's coming up soon. I'll try to have part 13 out before then though. Thanks for always reading!

Timothy “Tim” Jackson Drake was gifted with high intellect since birth. Coupled with the training he has received from Batman and Nightwing, he was a force to be reckoned with and proved worthy of the Robin title time and time again. Now as the Red Robin, he continued his work with his Batfamily. 

Tonight was supposed to be nothing more than routine work. Acquire the target (most likely by force), extract the necessary information (most likely through force), and use the data to get to their true goal. As expected, things were going down the track of ‘by force’. The target ordered his henchman to try to stop them and ran when it was evident they were unable to stop them. The chase was on, and the man went flying through a window. The location mattered little since it was vacant, or so Tim thought. He noticed the barista only after he turned to speak to the first Robin. From there, everything diverted.

He silently observed the young woman who wisely chose to turn a blind eye to their work, but he also kept an eye on his partner. Nightwing showed great interest in this young woman, more so than he would any other civilian that happened to be in the vicinity of their work. The amount of time he said her name and how he said it were also telling.

He’s not warning her, so why is he constantly saying her name? When she turned her back to them to make the drinks, he turned to his eldest brother to ask him what he was thinking but stopped himself at what he saw.

 So this is the famous young lady who’s got our Grumpy in such a fix. She’s certainly cute and pretty sharp, too. Is that why he’s not given her the money yet? Nightwing gently rubbed his chin as he contemplated on what to do. This was purely a stroke of luck on his end, since Red Robin had done the tracking and surveil on tonight’s target. We can’t just leave her with a broken window. She’s even managed to stay calm enough to take our order instead of becoming a mess. What ever shall I do? The right corner of his lip slowly tipped upwards into a smirk as an excellent idea came to mind. He pulled out something and a $100 bill. He folded the bill around the other piece just before she turned around with their drinks.

“Perfect,” he smiled in approval. “Thanks again, Y/N, and here, something for your troubles.” He winked, slipping it into the tip jar before grabbing the tied up man. “Until next time,” he flashed her a grin as Red Robin held the door open and the two walked out as if they had not just come crashing through one of the windows. Red Robin watched Y/N as she slowly looked around at her surroundings. He could not help but wonder why she was so interesting.

That fateful night, Tim had made it his goal to find out what he could about her. He knew asking the elder vigilante would not produce much information, but he asked anyway. The non-answer of ‘no reason’ and ‘it’s nothing’ were provided. Red flags that meant there was indeed something. With the spelling of her name and place of employ, he began to dig. He was a detective after all, a good mystery was always enticing, and there was nothing better to do while they waited for the next move of the organization they were monitoring.

Y/N stared at her phone for what felt like an eternity. Citlalli had been watching her for the last forty or so minutes since her loud and angry proclamation of ‘I’m going to text this ghosting hotshot pretty boy and demand he pay me the due money and leave me alone’. It was a sudden outburst in the middle of their takeout dinner that had been abnormally silent until then. It was then the young Latina had learned two things. One, he had not texted. Two, Y/N was going insane waiting for him to text, which was rare and quite entertaining.

Daaaaaamn, no text yet? It's been what, three weeks now? And she’s made no effort to reach out? There’s no way in hell she’d forget, she’s slavin’ away tryna get it cleared. But I thought he’d  have reached out by now. Poor mija, she’s really out of luck. She watched as Y/N picked up the device, angrily tapped away at the screen, read whatever she typed, paused, deleted the text, placed it back down, and slump. This is what, her sixth time? It was funny at first, but now it's just crazy. “Just text his ass already!” 

“Text him what exactly? He’s the one that texted ‘Hi’ from my phone to himself! Technically, he should be texting me!” Y/N threw her arms in the air before crossing them tightly, glaring at her phone. “Augh, forget it! I'll just text him whatever!” Grabbing it once more. 

<So, Wonder Boy, when you said you'll ‘send me the details’, was it code for ‘never gonna happen’ or are you saving some DID as the capeless crusader?> She proudly hit the send button, shoving any and all nausea and regret from anxiety down into the depths as best she could.

“That proud of your message, huh? What did you send?” Citlalli curiously asked, reaching for the phone in Y/N’s hands when it suddenly buzzed. Y/N jumped, sending it flying into the air. She juggled the little rectangle a bit as it buzzed a few more times, narrowly saving it from crashing onto the floor. “What the hell was that for?!”

“I didn’t expect it to vibrate all of a sudden,” Y/N scowled, waking the screen to see it was a text from the one and only ‘Your Hero’. She froze on the spot and Citlalli pushed her cheek into Y/N’s to see the screen and gasped.

“Holy shit, he texted back?! Are you sure he said he was going to text you first? Cause it looks like he was waiting on you.”

“I know what he said! I have no idea why he’s texting now. And some space, ya crazy!” She lightly nudged her friend to move and unlocked the thread.

<SHIT!>

<I did NOT mean to ghost you like this.>

<I swear I got busy with work. Also, what’s a DID? And didn’t I say to stop calling me that?> Y/N rolled her eyes at his texts, pulling up the keyboard.

<Didn’t you also say you’d text me details? And just so you know, it stands for Damsel In Distress.>

<Touche, lol. And noted, I’ll be sure to update the name of my file.>

<You should. It’s the official title. So says the famous kids cartoon movie. You’re still in trouble though.>

<Damn and here I thought I managed to get out of it. Should’ve known you wouldn’t let me go that easy. How about I make it up to you?>

<I’m reading.>

“What’s he saying?” Citlalli eagerly leaned in closer once more. “Don’t just sit there texting, that’s rude! I'm here, too! Don't make me get my chancla!”

“Ok, ok, relax! Sheesh, you don't always need to choose violence. He said he got tied up with work and has offered to make it up to me.”

“Oh, how so? By paying for the hotel and buying us a new apartment? What, don't give me that look! He could buy a neighborhood and still be fine!” Citlalli scoffed. “A girl can dream of a proper kitchen.” She grumbled, leaning back into the sofa. 

“I'm sure he could but I haven't gotten the chance to tell him about the bill because the last time we met, I was a little preoccupied trying to kick out trouble.” Citlalli colorfully cursed out her cousin in rapid Spanish for not only trying to trouble her best friend, but for trampling on Y/N’s chances with a Wayne.

“Cici, it’s fine! Really, I got his number at least. I'll figure out a way to bring it up in person. Deep breaths, ok?” She gently coaxed her fired up friend back into a more zen state before looking at her phone again. 

<How does lunch, you, and me sound? I’ll even recommend a few good books.>

<Consider me intrigued. Where and when?>

<TBD. I’m wrapping a few things on my end. I'll be able to give you all of my attention after that, sweetheart.>

So he did call me that last time. Is that just a thing he does, like how older waitresses and nurses tend to call people ‘sweetie’ or ‘honey’? She eyed Citlalli from the corner of her eye and shifted over, feigning getting comfortable, to avoid any misunderstanding. <I look forward to seeing how different all your attention is to now.>

<Ouch, lol! But fair, I fucked up on this one. I deserve that. You can hold me to it, just give me some time.>

<Also, you can just text me if you’re bored or wanna talk.> His next text popped up onto the screen.

<What about work?> She rolled her eyes at his new promise, though a small smile began to tug at the corners of her lips. Citlalli watched her dear friend curl up just like she did when reading a good book.

<I’ll make time for you.> 

<Even when I’m not in trouble?>

<Even then.>

<Also, text me when you’re in trouble.>

<So demanding for someone who never texted like he promised. Do you always order around the people you save?>

<Just the sassy ones. 😏>

<Keep this up and I might start think I'm special..>

<Yeah, you are. Never met a gal who charged for questions and refused to ask for my mame.>

<What can I say, I’m one of a kind. 😉>

<That you are and sadly, I need to start focusing on my job or I'll get my ass kicked.>

<Don't let me distract you and potentially endanger your fine derriere. Night, Little Lordling.> Slipping her phone into her pocket, she sat there with a smug look of victory to which Citlalli laughed.

“What happened?”

“He said he's going to let me know the details as soon as he's got work wrapped up and I'm allowed to keep him to his word.”

“Oh? Well that's promising. Seems like the two of you are getting along quite well.”

“Oh no, don't even go there, Cici. I know that look! I don't need you trying to match make me like your grandmother does. This is purely business, Platonic if more, and it's going to end once he pays the bill.

“Mmmhmmmm, sure, whatever you say, mija. On that note, we need to head to bed. We have the morning shift.”

“Must you remind me?” Y/N groans, forcing herself out of the comfortable position and stretching. “I’m just grateful Mr. D didn't take the window outta my paycheck. Thank you, security cameras for proof.”

“I still can’t believe it happened! The café was said to be in a safer part of town! The cops are due to come in some time today or tomorrow from what I know. You'll have to give them your account on what happened to get a proper report filed for compensation from the city.”

Fiddlesticks, I forgot that’s supposed to happen! What do I even say? Her shoulders sagged, and her head dropped backwards. I say one thing they don't like, and Nightwing will definitely make my life a living hell. He doesn't kill, but he does know how to torture, I’m sure of it! She wondered how they intended to get the information they wanted and what methods they would use on her. The thought made her shudder.

“Y/N, hey, are you ok?” Citlalli waved her hand in front of her face.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. Just,” she paused for a moment. “Just tired, it’s crazy thinking that was just two nights ago. Never thought I’d serve one famous person, let alone two, and vigilantes at that. I should sleep, can't look like some dead zombie, or they might think we're pulling a fast one.” She forced a yawn and walked into her bedroom, wishing her friend a good night.

The precinct office was a buzz with its usual hustle and bustle. There was rarely a dull moment thanks to the nightly work of the vigilantes that ruled the night. Many of the officers hated them, feeling as if they were failures and their pride bruised by the ‘handouts’ left at their doorstep. The commissioner was not of that mindset, though, and the newer recruits even idolized the lawbreaking individuals.

“Detective, are you ready to head out? We’ve got a bunch of shops claiming they got damaged by those masked weirdos. I rather we get this shit don't and over with as soon as possible. Those freaks in tights are more trouble than they are help!” The older detective gruffly grumbled his complaints, waiting for his partner. He was a younger detective, a greenhorn that was better than most veterans, which rubbed all the seasoned personnel the wrong way, but they had to admit it.

“Come now, they aren’t all that bad. I’d say a few of them are a bit dashing in their own rights.” The young man stood from his seat, making sure his things were in place. “Plus, I just got back from my medical leave, can’t you keep your grumbling down to a minimum? These people didn’t ask for all this damage control.”

“I did not miss your attitude.” He sneered. “C’mon, get your ass in gear. We gotta go.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” He scoffed, walking out of the precinct as they headed towards the first location. It was the first on the list only because it promised dome good fuel for the day.

“Hello detectives, thank you for coming on such short notice.” The man greeted them at the door, letting them into the busy establishment. “Please, follow me to my office.” He quickly led them to the back, catching the eye of one of the employees. Signaling them to follow, he let them get comfortable before the employee arrived. “This is Y/N, she was the employee who was present at the time of the incident.”

“I’ll handle it from here. Nolan, why don’t you go with the owner and get the surveillance footage?” The younger detective offered. With a grunt of approval, the two men left. “Y/N, was it? Please, have a seat. It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Detective Richard Grayson, but you can just call me Detective Dick or Grayson.” He flashed her a charming smile.

Author Note:

A huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me.

Please comment, like, share, and reblog! If you'd like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters or find chapter one here.

[gumnut-logic]

Diary of a Fanboy Engineer

Alexander Sweetapple series on Ao3

What's this? Is this Nuttyfic? Not a nuttyfic reblog? The first in ages?

Why yes, yes, it is.

Consequently, the writing muscles are a bit rusty so don't expect much.

However this was prompted by conspiring Thunderfam on this post.

It is a bit of a 'let's see if this idea works or not', but since most of my fic comes under that category, I'm hoping it works at least a little :D

So we have the beginnings of some possible Sweetapple Diaries :D

Many thanks to the wonderful @onereyofstarlight for proof reading and pointing out the bits that really didn't work :D ::hugs you tight:: And many thanks to the Sweetapple cheering squad - without you, there would be no Sweetapple ::hugs you all to bits::

Warnings for m/m fic and a bucket of fluff.

I hope you enjoy these little scribbles :D

-o-o-o-

14 Jul

We are going to Paris.

Mr Tracy told Virgil in no uncertain terms that he needed time off. I can’t agree more. Hell, all the brothers need time off, but Virgil has been flagging lately. He denies it, of course. Workaholic to the core. I can see where he is coming from, but really, he needs to take better care of himself - they all do.

Paris was an interesting choice. I’ve never been to Europe, but I guess that comes with the billionaire territory.

I am excited, there are so many opportunities in Paris. I’m particularly looking forward to seeing some real Da Vinci. Climbing the Eiffel Tower is also on my list.

But for our next holiday, I think we’ll choose a spot more close to home. I know some quiet seaside towns where we could rent a bach and just lay back and relax.

Maybe France has a few hidden corners we could climb into.

Anyway, it’s something to look forward to. Really, anytime, anywhere, would be fantastic.

-o-o-o-

15 Jul

Today wasn’t a good one. We had multiple failures in the latest prototype.

Erica isn’t happy. She says it isn’t my fault, but honestly, I should have seen at least one of them coming. The effect of vacuum on micro air pockets in a flexible solid is so obvious it was ridiculous. How did I miss it?

Dearest had to cancel out again. Mount Etna tried to take out some tourists.

Virgil isn’t happy. Apparently, he has been warning the Italian authorities about the destabilisation of the volcano’s eastern face, but because their equipment can’t detect what International Rescue’s equipment can, they don’t want to sacrifice the tourism euros to close the tours.

Fortunately, it was only a partial collapse and IR was able to save those caught in the landslide. I have to say though, Commander Tracy was furious in the holoclip shown on the news. I wouldn’t want to be person responsible right now. Scott can get scary.

I did get to see some cool shots of Virgil in action though. That, I could never get tired of. He and Gordon manoeuvred Two and rappelled down to pull people out of the dirt and ash.

They are such heroes.

I do miss him, of course, but those poor people needed him more than I did.

Maybe we can holochat later…oh god, it’s 3am already!

-o-o-o-

16 Jul

Erica woke me up this morning. Really, I love her, she is so good to me, but bloody hell, can’t she knock?

Okay, it was nearly eleven and I had my phone on silent and I didn’t answer the door and…

At least I had my pyjama pants on, I guess.

What if Virgil had been here?

She said that was the reason she barged in, Virgil wasn’t here - no great green ‘bird and Tracy Two wasn’t logged at the airfield, and I was late for work. I might have been dead or something.

She cares and I appreciate that.

She could have held off the laughter, though.

Besides, I wasn’t late for work. Work is on flexi-time and considering I was up until 1am last night analysing yesterday’s screw ups, my sleep-in was natural and totally allowed.

Virgil left me a message with a ‘maybe tonight’. I’m hoping, but if there is one thing I’ve learnt it is that whatever happens, happens. No hoping too hard.

So here I am writing this entry a little earlier to kill some of that hoping time.

We solved two out of the three problems we had yesterday. The third is being a pain in the ass. Erica says I should speak to John as this lies in his speciality. I said, not until we’ve exhausted all our resources because John is a busy man.

We’re all busy, she said, and he offered to help. Gordon helped with the water issues. I could even ask Alan.

Really? It’s not at the point where I have to go to the top to help solve the problem. We’ll give it a few more days. It’s urgent, but not life threatening like the Tracy brothers need to attend to. They’ve got enough on their plate.

But John has such a lovely voice, she said.

I swear she does this just to rile me up.

That or she does have a thing for John. You would think she would have a thing for Mr Tracy, he was the one who saved her from the earthquake. Hell, she and Fireman Fred still have a mutual flirting thing going on.

—!

Virgil is here!

-o-o-o-

17 Jul

The sun rose early this morning. Somewhere in our haste we forgot to close the blinds and the first rays of dawn woke me.

I’m not a morning person, I’m the first to admit that. But this morning…

You’re lying on your belly and the covers have slipped down to your waist. The sun is painting your skin in shades of gold and your hair is glowing.

You are beautiful.

…

PS: I haven’t read anything, I promise. I just needed to write the image down and this book was the closest at hand. Can I paint you some time?

…

He read the above to me when I woke.

Let’s just say I was late to work again.

-o-o-o-

17 Jul (cont.)

Virgil stayed at Māhia today. He helped with the issue we were having with the prototype, though we did end up calling John.

John was happy to help - man, he thinks fast. Don’t get me wrong, I love my math and my physics, but John seems to be able to bend both to his will. It took him a total of five minutes. Five minutes! To design a solution to our problem - in between rescue calls.

It was one of those daunting moments where I could see exactly why they work so well together.

Of course, I am working with V.T. Green. Just let me name drop that right here. And the Voice Who Answers…is my life real? How the hell did I end up here?

Frickin’ bloody amazing.

-o-o-o-