#i need to read nausea

[cheeseandbretboy]

tofu salad (i did not make this)

[catscidr]

cw: emetophobia. mentionned panic attack and intercourse. fluff. hurt/comfort. f!reader. not proofread

“Suguru, can you heat up my microwavable pad?”

“Sugu, can you get me some hair clips?”

“Sugu, can I have water?”

You thought you had it under control; being no stranger to bouts of panic and random waves of nausea, you’ve mastered the art of taking deep breaths and reassuring yourself that the nauseous feeling will eventually pass.

But, as strong as you are, everyone has moments of weakness.

After finally deciding to bite the bullet, you were able to contact a doctor to get a prescription for birth control. From painful period cramps to not wanting to have sex with a condom every time you and Suguru got under the sheets, it felt like the next step to take for your health. You wanted your birth control to help alleviate the cramps that left you bedridden for days and wanted to be able to be intimate with your boyfriend without the stress of possible pregnancy.

All things considered, it’s not like you were completely unaware of the possible side effects of birth control—the infamous pamphlet that could serve as a blanket is pretty hard to miss when you first unbox your prescription.

You’ve spoken to your girlfriends about how nervous you were to start birth control, and they were all as understanding and sweet as one would expect.

After a short pep talk with yourself and your bathroom mirror, you put the patch on your arm and were officially part of the twinkie crew, formerly a toaster strudel.

…in a couple of days. Your doctor informed you to avoid having intercourse without protection for at least five days to let your body acclimate itself to the hormones flowing through you thanks to the patch on your arm.

So now, instead of having a productive afternoon, you’re sat on the cold wooden floor of your bedroom with an empty bucket across of you alongside a cardboard box you meant to throw out that now serves as a makeshift table.

“Here you are, darling.” Suguru places the glass of water on your ‘table’, silently watching how you’re holding up. His gaze lingers on the small patch on your arm, anger boiling in his gut because how dare this piece of rubber hurt my girlfriend like this, but he holds off on removing your source of pain directly knowing that it'd do more harm than good. “How do you feel now?”

You can sense his eyes on you, but you feel so ashamed of yourself for being so panicky over vomiting that you refuse to sit up from your position, all hunched over your plastic emotional support bucket. “Still gross. M’ face feels... tingly.”

He crouches beside you, gently rubbing your back to soothe you. “Do you need me to get you anything else?”

You shake your head after a second of thought, busy focusing on your self-acupuncture massage on the insides of your wrists to think of whatever else could aid your discomfort.

Observing you, Suguru sighs lightly. He sits down on the ground properly and takes ahold of one of your arms himself to replace your thumb with his. Rubbing gentle but firm circles into your tendon, he applies light pressure, and watches your brows furrow in discomfort then relax ever so slightly.

“Focus on calming your heart rate, baby. Can you do that for me? Deep breaths,” he hums softly. Nodding weakly, you try to inhale slowly but a wave of nausea hits you. Your forehead bonks the edge of the bucket and you begin to—almost—hyperventilate.

Your face feels hot, you feel pressure building up your throat and you're shaking like a leaf. “Don’t look at me,” you whimper, weakly pushing Suguru’s face to look off to the side. He ignores your plea and brushes a stray lock of hair away from your face, gently tucking it behind your ear.

“You’re okay,” he muses. “This’ll pass like it always has. The nausea you feel isn’t any different from other times you’ve felt like throwing up; you always ended up fine.“ Suguru stops massaging your arm and places his hand on your cheek. You lean into him, feeling a wave of comfort come from your chest as you keen at the cold touch of his palm.

The corners of his lips curl upward. “Can you swallow?” he asks, bending down to take a proper look at your face.

You try, straightening your back and taking a deep breath before swallowing your saliva. Suguru hums, whispering a quiet good, relieved that you're able to cooperate.

“You know, my mom used to tell me that, if I ever felt nauseous, I should try swallowing. If I was physically able to swallow, then I would be fine.” He rubs his thumb over the apples of your cheek gently, watching your eyes crack open. “There’s my girl,” he hums with a smile.

Nuzzling into his palm, you groan quietly. "Don't look at me, I look gross," you huff. Through the anxiety and nausea, your heart swells at how attentive and patient Suguru is.

The sound of the television in the living room sounds distant from your little bubble with Suguru, lost in whatever trance he held you in. "You're okay," he reassures. "How do you feel now?"

Swallowing once again, you take a deep breath and adjust the heated pad on your abdomen. You take a minute to feel, repeating Suguru's comforting words in your groggy mind.

"I feel... decent," you murmur. "Better."

His shoulders visibly lose tension as he smiles, and he leans forward to press a soft but lingering kiss to your forehead.

"That's what I like to hear. Can you stand?"

Part of you wants to shake your head, to stay sat on the ground and wallow in your despair because Gods your legs felt so numb, but you'd much rather be in Suguru's company than to be left alone with your own thoughts.

You nod, and ever the gentleman, your boyfriend loops your arm around his shoulder to help you stand up. Though your legs are wobbly, he keeps you upright, guiding you to the living room couch.

"Pick out something to watch," he says. "I'll be back with some crackers and your bucket, just in case. Any special requests?"

Leaning back into the cushions, you shake your head as you sigh, content. "No. Jus' need you with me," you hum.

As Suguru flashes you an award winning smile, he eases your worries with the same smooth voice that greets your eardrums every day. "I'll always stay with you, princess."

And you shut your eyes, comforted with the knowledge that, no matter how gross you may feel or how sickly you may be, Suguru won't ever leave your side.

[spookyxsprinkles]

if there’s no one beside you when your soul embarks, then i’ll follow you into the dark [chapter 1/?]

hayakawa aki × shy fiend f!reader

-> safe for work (for now) // 4.9k words // AO3. -> warnings: smoking, blood, cheesy, friendship, romance, discrimination, fluff, angst, pining that may or may not be mutual, soft aki, protective aki, eventual smut, eventual romance, canon divergent, fic will get into darker topics as the story progresses but i'll update the warnings as i go, chainsaw man part 1 spoilers.

Devil hunters use devils to kill devils.

The irony was never lost on you. This was a use or get used world, after all.

In the distance, your ears picked up the sounds of a fight. Explosions, rubble falling, metal crunching. It sounded far enough away for you not to worry about closing the convenience store early (not that your boss would’ve let you), but it was still close enough for you to stay alert as you stood on a flipped milk crate, stocking the fridge. The situation seemed to have settled by the time you finished and you allowed yourself to relax.

You were behind the counter reading a romance novel when the smell of dust and blood assaulted your nose, making you look up at the source. The sliding doors let out a melodic chime as a tall man with a top knot dressed in a black suit entered the store, walking straight for the freezers in the back. Your eyes stayed glued to the sword strapped to his back until he was no longer visible from where you stood.

You took a sip from your water bottle before returning your attention back to the book in front of you. Two pages later, you realize you weren’t actually processing the words on the page and, with a sigh, you flip back to try again. You struggled reading the same paragraph over and over until the sound of aluminum cans clanking against the counter top startled you. The man with a top knot (with a sword strapped to his back) had placed canned coffees and an apple in front of you.

“Cigarettes, too.”

Before he could finish pulling out his wallet, you set a white box down on the counter between the two of you. He stared down at the box of Mevius One KS cigarettes with a furrow in his brow and his eyes moved to meet your own.

“I-I have a good nose.” You anxiously look away from him and quickly scan his items, placing them neatly in a plastic bag. “That’ll be ¥4,570.74.”

The man eyed you for a moment, as if studying you, then pulled out his card to insert it into the machine until he noticed a sign with messy handwriting stating that the card machine was out of order. He returned his card back into it’s place in his wallet before pulling out cash and placing it into your outreached hand, his cold fingers brushing against yours as he did so.

“You’re good,” he says quietly.

You suck in a breath at his comment and nod, feeling unsure of how else to respond so you simply thank him for shopping at the convenience store and to have a nice day. You watch his dark form disappear down the street before letting out a sigh of relief as you adjusted the crochet beanie on your head.

+

Two or three times a week, he would come in to buy canned coffee and cigarettes. The two of you never spoke much beyond pleasantries. (“hello,” “good afternoon,” “have a nice day,” “you too.”)

Currently, he was in the back of the store by the freezers. You tried to keep your attention on your book as you absent-mindedly fidgeted with the sleeve of your over-sized cardigan.

It had been a few short months since you started working here, since you first noticed him. The convenience store wasn’t the closest one to the Public Safety office in Tokyo, but it was still frequented daily by people who worked there, including other devil hunters.

Every now and then you’d stop seeing a face come by the shop and determined that they must have been killed on the job. It wasn’t a secret that devil hunters didn’t have very long lifespans, it was the nature of the job. However, you recently found yourself feeling relieved whenever he stepped over the threshold of the sliding glass doors and greeted you in return.

You weren’t entirely sure why you felt that way. He was obviously attractive, though you doubted that was reason for your feelings.

Still, relieved as you may be, you found it difficult to focus whenever the two of you shared the same four walls.

To you, devils had an acrid smell. The stronger the devil, the more offensive the smell was. You were sure the devil hunter was human, but the scents that lingered on him were the strongest you had smelled in quite a while. The smell was stronger on him than it was on most of the devil hunters you encountered.

He must have worked closely with strong devils and the thought of that frightened you. You once heard a group of devil hunters mention a special division in Public Safety that made devils work for them without free will.

You cautiously cast glance his way as he flipped through a magazine, and you wondered if this devil hunter (your devil hunter) was involved with something as awful as that.

+

By now, he must have noticed the way you always avoided eye contact with him. You're sure of it.

You try to read but you simply could not focus and you found yourself looking in his direction every few minutes. He walked around the shop, aimlessly browsing, rather than going straight for what he came for like he usually did. You’re tempted by the opportunity to strike up a conversation with him, to get to know him a little (for better or worse), but you bite your tongue.

You wouldn’t know what to say. The majority of your social skills were learnt through reading books.

You notice that sometimes, when the store gets empty, he stares at you for a few moments, as if he wants to say something, before thinking better of it and exiting the store, leaving you to watch him from behind.

+

You felt your hands shaking more than they usually did whenever he was around. You hoped he didn't notice, though when you looked up at him, you could see him watching you. Your eyes briefly look over at the sword on his back before returning your attention back to the monitor and reading him his total.

You took his money and shakily hand him the receipt, which he takes. You quickly look away and feel his lingering gaze, followed by the small intake of breath. You get the impression that he's about to say something.

You do your best to look busy organizing your space behind the counter. Your hands were trembling, causing you to knock over a candy display. Rolls of mints clattered around your boots and you bend over to pick them up.

You hear the chiming of the sliding doors as they opened and closed and you peeked over the counter to see that he was gone.

+

A few days later, you’re stocking the freezer with drinks. Despite wearing your cardigan and beanie, you shivered as you struggled to reach the top shelves. You forgot to grab the milk crate from behind the counter to help you reach higher, but with the devil hunter in the store earlier than usual, you decided to quickly wrap up stocking so that you could get back to the counter.

Large, pale hands grasp the can from your hand, making you flinch in surprise. You look over your shoulder and see the devil hunter helping you place the remaining drinks on the top shelf. You swallow hard and avert your eyes from him.

“Thank you...” He nodded then went on his way to continued his shopping. You walk back to the register to wait for him. You felt his gaze on you but you didn’t dare look up away from the register you were pretending to clean. Your head hurt from overthinking.

You checked out his items when he brought them over to you, faster than you usually did. You were eager for him to leave so that you could focus on anything other than him right now.

"A box of Mevius One KS, please."

You were too distracted with your own thoughts that you forgot to give him his cigarettes. You apologize and turn in a hurry to reach for them on the shelf, stepping onto the milk crate, but in your haste you lost your balance. You yelped as you fell onto the cold tile, boxes of cigarettes raining down on your head.

The next thing you knew, he’s behind the counter kneeling beside you, scanning you for any injuries before returning his gaze to yours.

“Are you okay?”

You couldn’t help but notice the concern in his voice. It was a stark contrast to the stoicism he usually exuded whenever he was in the store.

You nod, feeling your cheeks heat up with embarrassment as you looked up at him. You look away again, sitting up despite your butt aching from the fall. You ran a nervous hand through your hair and realized your beanie had fallen off and the devil hunter was staring—right at the pair of fluffy ears on your head.

“You’re…” he pauses, looking at you in a way that was hard to read.

You panicked. You grabbed your beanie from the floor, clumsily hopped over the counter, knocking over the candy display in the process as you ran out of the store.

“Wait! Come back!”

He continued to call out after you, his voice growing more and more distant until you could no longer make out the individual words. Your feet feel like they’re going to give out from underneath you as you sprint along the sidewalk hoping to never see him away.

+

The following day was your day off, but your boss called you in. He fired you for leaving the store unattended and withheld your final paycheck. When you timidly tried to stand up for yourself, telling him that he couldn’t do that, he said he could because you had no human rights as a fiend.

There was nothing you could do about it.

You managed to find another job in a grocery store on the other side of town. It was farther away from your home, but safer since it lessened the risk of running into the same devil hunter again.

A few weeks later, you were working the register when you recognized his scent. Your eyes widened in horror when you realized he had found you. The two of you stared at each other.

His expression was stern and focused. There’s no trace of the gentleness he’d shown last time. A depressing reminder that this man wasn’t just a man and you weren’t just a woman.

He was here to kill you, or worse.

You were frozen in place. It’s only when he begins to approach you that you remember to breathe. You trembled fearfully as he stood in front of you.

“Hey—”

“P-Please don’t hurt me,” you sputtered out from behind the register.

His expression softens, but his eyes are steady, resolute. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s trying to convey some sort of message to you.

“I’m not going to kill you, don’t worry,” he replies calmly. “I’m not here to harm you in any way.”

"But you're a devil hunter... are you here to capture me and force me to work for Public Safety?"

"No."

You don’t believe him and flinch away when he pulls something from his inner suit pocket.

An envelope.

"I realized you were probably scared of being hunted, so I didn’t chase you. I went looking for you back at the convenience store the next day. Your boss said you were fired. I found out he illegally withheld your final paycheck, so I've been searching for you to return it."

Your brows furrow as he places the envelope on the counter. You weren't sure if you could trust him or not. His eyes never left your face as you looked down at the envelope then back up at him. You're not sure what to say or do, but his quiet, patient composure is a stark contrast to his intimidating presence earlier.

He gestures towards the envelope. “You can open it. I’m not trying to force you to join Public Safety. I’m simply making sure you get what’s rightfully yours. You can’t exactly sue him.”

The fact that he seemed so confident that this was going to change everything, that you're going to trust him, sends your brain into overdrive. You don't know what to do.

“Open it," he says quietly. Gently.

You hesitantly reach for the envelope and open it, finding the money your former boss denied you of. You expect him to demand something from you in return, but he quietly walked out of the store.

+

A couple of weeks later, you pick up his scent again as you’re stacking a table with cans on sale. You noticed he was accompanied by two others with inhuman scents. Both strong and familiar smells that you’ve smelled on him in the past. Devils. In the grocery store? Their casual-wear made it seem like they weren’t on official business and based on the way they were acting, the three of them seemed close.

You were nearly finished with stacking the can display, when the devils accidentally ran their cart into the table, knocking over the cans. The devil hunter turned at the sound and came over.

You’re on your knees, picking up cans and placing them back on the table to get them off the floor. The devils snickered, until the devil hunter scolded them.

"Can you two knock it off and help pick those up?"

For some reason that makes you feel embarrassed and you tell him that it’s okay. “It was an accident. Don’t worry, it’s my job to do this...”

His gaze meets yours.

“Hey," he says quietly as he approaches the knocked over cans. After taking a quick glance at you, he begins to clean up the mess while the devils continued to bicker and argue as they stacked, making a competition out of it. The way they carried themselves, like bickering siblings. Not that you would know personally, but it reminded you of siblings in the stories you’ve read. You were wondering how old they were when you realized just how tall the devil hunter actually is; he seems to dwarf the other two.

"Are you alright?" He asked, looking at the fallen cans lying on the floor. You could feel his eyes on you, looking over you as though checking to see any sign of injuries. You sneak a peek at him, noticing his eyes glancing at the beanie on your head. The beanie that covered your devil ears.

You nod, your timid and nervous nature getting in the way of the moment. He scolds the others and eventually gives them the task of doing the rest of the shopping and offering them a snack reward. They run off excitedly with the cart as he helped you stack the cans. The two of you worked quietly.

He continued helping you for a bit longer, his presence soothing rather than intimidating like before. Then, once you finish stacking the cans on the shelf, he steps back for a moment as though hesitating.

You glance at him nervously, nodding as you chewed on your bottom lip. You wondered if it’d be rude to walk away right now. Probably.

"Are you busy after work?"

Your eyes widen, and you can feel your heart beginning to beat faster. You can hear the others laughing in the distance, clearly not paying attention to the conversation taking place.

"Yes," you lied.

He made a face, as if he could easily tell that you had just lied from your tone and nervous body language, but nodded anyways. He offered to buy you something to eat as an apology for the cans and for being the reason you lost your previous job at the convenience store.

"Will I... owe you?"

"No."

You weren’t sure whether or not you should trust him. So far, he seemed to have your best interests in mind, though you knew that could also be a trick. You decided to take a leap of faith.

"Apples. I like apples."

His expression remained stoic and you felt vulnerable under his watchful gaze. People who knew you were not human treated you differently, saw you differently. To them, you felt invisible and disposable. Like something to be used and tossed away when it became too much trouble. The way this devil hunter looked at you now was different than how he used to look at you when he thought you were a human like him, but it also didn’t feel like he thought of you as something less than him. The way he was looking at you right now made you feel like your heart was in your throat. You try to swallow it back down.

“Apples?” He gives a small nod. "Then I'll buy you some.”

+

He buys you a bag of apples.

It becomes routine.

Whenever he stops by the grocery store, he would leave you with a bag of apples.

It was the kindest thing a human had ever done for you.

You craved speaking with him, not really getting much positive attention from others. You felt lonely and wondered if he could tell. You didn't trust humans but you wanted to trust him. You really wanted to trust him.

So, you tried talking to him a little bit. It was awkward and you were as clumsy with your words as you were with your body but in a few months, the two of you were able to have casual small talk. You were so happy to be able to joke with him, even just a little bit.

Your relationship with him grew over time with these simple interactions, these little moments of kindness that he showed you.

This is a stark contrast to the way devil hunters and civilians had treated you in the past. Their disdain for devils would get in the way of your interactions, but you didn’t have that problem with your devil hunter. Seeing him with his devil friends gave you hope.

You looked forward to his visits. His presence is a quiet one. He doesn't expect anything from you, nor does he ask much about you yet here you are, talking almost like... friends.

"Th-Thank you, Mr. Hayakawa." You speak his name for the first time, a bit timidly. You learned it a couple of months ago when he asked to be signed up for the grocery store’s rewards program, but you never said it out loud until now. He had just bought you apples again and you wanted to thank him.

His expression was as gentle as his voice. "Just Aki is fine."

The way he holds himself seems to have loosened up considerably. His shoulders, once stiff and tense, now hang loosely by his sides. He no longer seems quite as intimidating. And you're not sure how exactly, but it almost seems as if his presence becomes... softer.

You nod, feeling your face heat up. "Sorry, th-thank you, Mr. A-Aki..!"

You can't tell if there's a small hint of amusement in his eyes, but then again, he's hard to read.

"Why 'Mr. Aki'?" He asks you curiously.

"Did I say something wrong? Would you prefer a different title?" You nervously fiddle with your fingers.

His eyebrows knit together slightly, as though thinking. “It’s not really needed, I guess. You don't need to call me by any title or honorific. Aki's enough..." He trails off.

"O-Okay... A-Aki..."

You felt your face heat even more from being allowed to refer to him so informally. You have never spoken someone's name so casually before. You distract yourself by stiffly scanning the rest of his items.

He eyes the bag of apples sitting at the end of the register’s moving belt. "Did you want anything else?" He asks, his eyes looking back to you. Your eyes widen and you shake your head furiously, knocking your beanie off balance, slightly revealing the bottom of one of your fluffy ears. Aki eyes it, wondering if you’d notice it in time to fix it before anyone else saw it.

"No, no I'm okay! Really! The apples are good. I love apples. I-I... Thank you, Aki."

"Are you sure?" He asks and from the way his eyes were staring at your cheeks you knew he was aware you were feeling very flustered right now.

Aki’s eyes return to your visible ear. You were beginning to feel self-conscious when he leaned over the counter of the register and adjusted your beanie. “Your ear was showing. Sorry.”

You flinched at the sudden contact and as he pulled away, you grabbed his wrists without thinking. You hold onto him for a moment.

The air around you seems to heat up slightly, the intensity of your gaze rather palpable. You feel a shiver run down your spine at the closeness of the situation and notice his eyebrow raising in confusion. He seemed a little surprised by how close you are to him, but he doesn't back away. The sound of someone sneezing snapped you out of your daze and you released him.

You back away from the register, avoiding his eyes and mumbling a series of apologies before making up some excuse about needing to unclog a toilet.

(Aki watched you run off towards the back. He could still feel the warmth of your hands around his wrists as he left the store).

+

The next few times Aki went to the store, you weren’t around. He asks the manager about you and she said that you took a few weeks off.

Aki wondered why and if it had anything to do with what happened.

+

As the days passed, his curiosity over why you weren’t around grew. He doesn’t know if your last encounter with him had anything to do with that, but he hoped that it didn’t.

Your absence brought about a certain sense of loneliness, and though he’s never admitted it to himself, he starts to miss you and the moments that you’d shared with one another.

+

You return a month later, avoiding Aki's eyes as you scanned his items. You were quiet today.

As you return to your old routine, you feel Aki’s eyes trailing you. He keeps to himself and gives you space, but he’s still observant as you worked. Something had changed in your demeanor. You're being polite but distant, keeping your distance from him and not speaking unless absolutely necessary. You’re not like yourself at all. He doesn’t know why and it makes his curiosity grow even more.

"Is something wrong?" He leans forward a bit, wondering if he'd done something wrong.

"No..." You say quietly as you handed him his change, careful not to touch him.

The way that you speak makes him certain that there is something wrong; he's known you long enough to tell. Your avoidance is what catches his attention however.

You bag his items and another customer sets their items down on the belt for you to scan. There are plenty of people lining up behind Aki, so you turn your attention to the next customer as you bag his items.

“Is this about me?” He asks, once the customers have cleared the line-up. He’d been watching you interact with the other customers and noticed that you weren't behaving this way with them. Only with him.

"Yes," you say hesitantly, "But you didn't do anything wrong. It's me that's the problem..." Your face burns red. "Please don't worry about it."

"Well, now you've got me worried," he replies, his usual stoic expression giving way to genuine concern. "You've been acting a bit strange. Like something happened."

"It-It doesn't feel appropriate to say, so I'd really rather we didn't get into it." You say as you fiddled with your fingers. "It's nothing worth worrying about. Nothing bad happened and I don't think ill of you, Mr- I mean, Aki."

If he wasn’t so worried, he would've quietly laughed at your little slip up. Aki watches you as you fiddle with your fingers, a bit more concerned now. He doesn’t like not being able to figure out what’s been on your mind this entire time.

You’re keeping things vague, and it’s driving him crazy.

"So, this has nothing to do with our last interaction?" he asks you, genuinely curious.

Your face reddens even more, "It... it may have something to do with that..." You look at the clock on the wall before timidly looking at Aki. "If it's okay with you, can we talk about it after my shift ends in 20 minutes..?"

He nods, still trying not to let any emotion appear on his face.

"That’s fine. I'll be waiting for you outside if that’s okay.”

+

Fifty minutes later, you run outside, panting heavily.

"S-Sorry for taking so long. You didn't have to wait." Your hands squeezed at the strap of your cross body bag.

"I don't mind," he tells you. You notice the way his eyes scan your face, as if he's looking for something in particular. Like he's trying to figure something out. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be okay. Thank you, Aki." You chew on your bottom lip as you look at him. It all suddenly feels too real and you look down at the ground again. "I-I'm not being weird because you did something wrong. I've been acting strangely because I've recently realized my... my feelings. I'm sorry." You say quietly.

"Ah..." Aki replies softly, his attention glued to you as you nervously chew on your lip. "Can I ask you something?"

You nod. (In your head, you were mentally preparing for him to tell you to work at a different store so that he never has to see your devil face ever again.)

"You said that you've recently realized your feelings, but..." he pauses. "How long have you actually liked me?" There's a teasing smile playing on his lips.

Your ears perk up on your head, shifting your beanie slightly. "Not long! I swear, I promise it's only recent. It wasn't until I went home after the last time I saw you, when you were fixing my hat, that I realized there might be some feelings from my end. I promise I had no ulterior motives during the last ten months."

"Just how recent are we talking?"

"...Actually, maybe I did have an ulterior motive. No, not maybe. I did have one."

Your ears moved under the beanie, knocking it off of your head. Your ears lay flat against your head, like if you did something wrong.

“Really?” Aki raises an eyebrow, "What was your ulterior motive?"

"I…” You spoke quietly while staring down at his shoes. “I wanted to be your friend."

There’s a long moment of silence.

“...That’s an ulterior motive?” he asks, a hint of amusement returning to his voice. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

"Of course it is..! It was something I wanted that you didn't know I wanted. That's the definition, right?" Your face is red and your ears twitch but remain flat. "You were always so kind to me and whenever I saw you and Power and Denji behaving so familiar with each other I-I wanted that too." Your voice cracked and your eyes welled with tears.

Aki’s kindness meant the world to you and you wanted to be a part of his world, too.

He picked your beanie up off of the ground and dusted it off before placing it back on your head, carefully covering your ears for you.

“It is technically an ulterior motive,” Aki admits. He looks away from your eyes, to the ground between the two of you. “Is that really the main reason you kept talking to me?”

You nodded while trying to make yourself look at his face,

"I like you, in both senses of the word, but the platonic meaning is what I value the most. You've treated me with kindness and patience, even when I pretended to act like I was bad at my job just so I could have a few extra seconds of time with you."

Aki's expression softens.

“Do you want to come over my place for dinner?”

“Huh!?” Your eyes nearly pop out of your head at his sudden question, “Where did that come from?”

“Denji and Power will be there, too...” He trailed off.

“No, it’s okay. Thank you for the offer, though. I appreciate it but I don’t want to impose.”

“You won’t be imposing.”

He walks you to his car and when he unlocks it, you open the door to the backseat. He says you could sit up front if you wanted to. So you do. He helps secure your seat belt since you weren’t doing it quite right.

“Sorry. I’ve never used a seat belt before.”

“Never?” He asks as he maneuvers the car around the parking lot.

“Never.”

He stops, waiting for a chance to safely enter the street and takes that moment to glance at you from the corner of his eye. “You can open the window, if you want.”

Your ears perk up, pushing the beanie off of your head and onto your lap. Aki tells you which button to press and soon enough, your window was all the way down.

“Thank you, Aki.”

He nods, making a noise of acknowledgment as he turned the car onto the street. You stuck your head out the window to feel the wind whipping at your grinning face. And as Aki drove the two of you to his home, he had a feeling that he wouldn’t mind getting used to this.

[nalgenewhore]

so i actually went and read that article (grazie sophia christie on the cut). its flagrantly self-obsessed - she goes on for paragraphs about how she's just one of the smart girls who got picked up by a fully-formed man (then 30 to her then 23) while passing on badly disguised barbed 'pity' onto the now 20-year-old girls.

the reason for this pity is that they're currently teaching men how to live - how to grocery shop, how to move into an apartment, how to do laundry, etc. she pities them because "statistically, they will not end up" with their current boyfriends, and the next woman will benefit from this now fully-formed man while never knowing who came before her.

for someone who incessantly proclaims their intelligence (says if her classmates AT HARVARD were supposed to be smart girls, why aren't they out here getting with older men, oh btw did you pick up that she went to harvard? her ba in literature is from harvard university?), she can't see the painful irony of her own situation. her husband (not partner, gods- can you imagine being in a partnership with your significant other?!) magically appeared to her as a fully-formed grown man, and for whatever reason she does not divulge, he is the singular statistical outlier of all men -- no woman formed him! she is not living off some poor discarded girl's unappreciated labour right now!

this sentence in her last paragraph just prove my point: "Last week, we looked back at old photos and agreed we'd given each other our respective best years." Because you, unlike all those women you pity and the women in his life you oh-so-easily forget, didn't have to grow into who you are with someone. You said it yourself "At 20, I felt daunted by the project of becoming my ideal self, couldn't imagine doing it in tandem with somone, two raw lumps of clay trying to mold one another and only sullying things worse" (emphasis added). That project still daunts her, and she never reconciled with it. She just exported that burden to someone who had already done that work and knew what kind of person he wanted, so she became that person. She's a fraud.

go fuck yourself grazie sophia christie. ig that harvard literature ba isnt worth shit if you're such a self-deceiving author whose critical eye only ever turns outward.

[melancholyfleurs]

life has been so rough lately but on the plus i turned back to my original favourite (healthy) coping mechanism of reading and i’ve finished almost 2 books this week. i forgot how fast i can read when i enjoy a book and im trying to distract my brain lol.

[queerofthedagger]

got less than two hours of sleep (thank you insomnia), expected to start work at my client's workplace (20min commute) then got a last-minute text to come to his house instead (1.5 hours commute) which meant i had to rush like woah to only be half an hour late (hate hate hate rushing in the mornings), lost the piercing ball of my septum and now have to sit in a dark silent room making sure he keeps breathing cause he had another episode. without me falling asleep. happy new year what a fucking start

[kingtankgirl]

this is officially worse than when i had e.coli i can definitely say that now

[darlinimamess]

only now reading this am i realizing how insanely fast my own recovery was

[cheeseandbretboy]

ok so my head feels so light like when i stand up it will just fly away and my body will collapse because it cannot live without a mind but simultaneously my head holds such a sheer heaviness that evokes a sense of hopeless dread whenever i want to do something

yay?

[boomerang109]

i want to go home and get high i am in so much pain holy shit periods should be illegal

[nexus-nebulae]

don't feel good :(

[transs3xualmagg0t]

.

[starry-bi-sky]

#battinson with chronically ill half dead teenager yesssssssss#I'm imagining that first night he brings danny to the cave and hes just internally panicking#like what do i do with this kid. where do i put him. i cant just leave him in the cave. im DEFINITELY not leaving him alone

FRRRR. Like @/that1badassbitch mentioned in the comments, Bruce's thoughts that entire time was just varying pitches of internal screaming. Which I am still wheezing at because yeah, preach. Bruce's pov from the moment Danny accosts him in the alley to him bringing Danny into the cave ranges from awkward panicking, genuine desperation to get this kid some help, a lot of heartbreak on the boy's behalf, and also just pure anger at his godfather.

Cuz like, who the fuck does this?? How dare he. This boy is a child. If it weren't for Danny's genuine terrified pleading, Bruce would've probably had a confrontation with Vlad. He would've lost, considering Vlad's power set and Bruce's lack of and Vlad would have gotten away with Danny. But he would've tried it. (Could've resulted in a spin-off au where Bruce, after losing to Vlad, proceeds to hunt the bastard down to save Danny.)

But yeah, I absolutely, delightfully agree that Battinson is just. internally panicking the entire time. From the rooftops, to the car, to the driving all the way to the cave -- which, after a quick google search, is apparently in an abandoned train depot in Batman (2022). Which is fascinating to me, but I digress. His internal monologue consists of cussing out Danny's godfather, trying to figure out what the poison is, a repetitive use of the word "FUCK", and him going "keep him awake keep him awake keep him aWAKE--"

But like, in a more Bruce Wayne fashion.

Danny is curled up in the passenger seat beside him and Bruce keeps intermittently checking on him every few seconds. Danny just looks like shit, man. Poor kid has a seemingly unending bloody nose, he's coughed a few times already and each time sounds like its shaking through his lungs and taking a piece out. His breathing is hollow, quietly raspy, and Danny sounds like he's gasping each time he breathes in. He's pale, clammy and sweating, but trembling, and his eyes are glazed over, unfocused, and half-lidded.

Dealer's choice here but I'm very amused but also fond of the idea that Bruce, in an attempt to do anything to soothe this kid, panic-clips off his cape and kinda just. throws it at him. Cringes, then awkwardly tries to adjust it so it's laying over him like a blanket.

It works though! Danny, through his haze, cracks a smile at him before grabbing the cape and practically curling around it. He seems to visibly relax, and Bruce silently slumps with relief that his idea worked. I also think he tries to painfully make some sort of small talk but frankly the only valid form of "small talk" he knows is interrogation. Danny's too out of it to mind though.

Bruce asks him if he knows what his godfather used to poison him.

("Blood Bl'ssom.") ("What is that?") ("A k'nda plant. Issa type o' rose.") ("Where can I find one?") ("Y'can't.") (And hear Bruce's blood chills for a moment. "What do you mean?") ("Blossoms went extinct in th- in the 1600s.") ("What? How is that possible? How'd your godfather get his hands on one?") ("Science.")

He also learns that the poison is, horrifyingly, cannibalistic, and Danny reassures him that he kinda stopped feeling the pain a few hours ago. Then he gags on nothing and spirals into an ugly coughing fit. "...Mostly." He adds on.

I have this very vivid mental image of Battinson screeching to a stop in the cave, Alfred's off to the side messing with some prototype gadgets. Bruce's side door swings open and Alfred's in the middle of snarkily asking if he's decided to get a reasonable amount of sleep tonight, only to immediately eat his tongue when Bruce beelines to the other side of the car and frantically pulls a waifish victorian kid with the tuberculosis blood cough to match out of the passenger's side.

("Dear god, what happened!?") ("His godfather poisoned him. I need towels and every medical device we have in here.")

The few photos I could find of the Battinson Cave did not imply there was a gurney in there, so Bruce uses on of the metal tables. He uses one arm to swipe off all the stuff on there onto the floor before laying Danny down.

It's. a very stressful time! That's for sure. Bruce is stuck between trying to get some form of antidote or at the very least a neutralizer to the blood blossom extract made, and also reassuring Danny that he's going to be fine. He's out of his depth.

They do get Danny stabilized though! How? Uh, I hadn't actually been able to think of how up until now, and this is just me trying to throw together an idea up on the fly. But Bruce like, manages to make some kind of 'antidote' that doesn't completely kill the blood blossom extract, but it makes the poison at least forcibly slow down.

[Forced to put a read more because this got SO LONG. oops]

"like what do i do with this kid. where do i put him. i cant just leave him in the cave. im DEFINITELY not leaving him alone" <<< is his sudden internal crisis after Danny's stabilized and passed out on the table. Giving him back to his godfather is completely off the fucking table, and Bruce can't give him up to CPS because there's a risk that he'll also return to his godfather.

He ends up, unsurprisingly to all of us, on deciding to keep Danny with him for the time being. At least until they can get his godfather behind bars. And you're right! Danny can't stay in the cave -- it's a half-furnished, rundown train depot. There's a tetanus shot waiting around each corner. It's Bruce's (reluctant) idea to take him up to the manor.

So Danny wakes up in an incredibly gothic guest bedroom, not feeling 100%, but also not feeling like total death like he did yesterday. He can still feel the blood blossom in him -- it leaves a joint and muscle soreness throughout his whole body, and when he breathes there's a weight there.

His confusion over where he woke up -- because it's very much not Vlad's place -- is overshadowed by his frank awe. You can't tell me he hasn't developed an appreciation and fondness of gothness due to his friendship with Sam. He might not be into it like Sam is, but he can appreciate the beauty when it's right in front of him.

#and hes got that awkward silent staring thing going on. Danny's trying not to die and vlads not there anymore#so hes unbothered by it really

Bruce pulled up a chair next to Danny's bed in the manor and didn't move a single inch the entire time. Just. sat there and stared to make sure the kid didn't stop breathing in the middle of the night. Probably has some facial recognition scanner going to try and figure out Danny's last name -- whether that works or not is dealer's choice frankly.

Either way, Danny turns his head to the left and nearly jumps three feet into the air when he sees Bruce and his 'stares into your soul' blue eyes. Sends him into a minor coughing fit by accident. Battinson very awkwardly and quietly apologizes. danny kinda just waves him off.

That's a whole conversation I'm not gonna go into, but to sum it up Bruce asks how Danny's feeling, and Danny tells him that he feels better, but he can still feel the blood blossom poison. So whatever he did, didn't get rid of all of it. (He's still incredibly fucking grateful nonetheless)

cue that "getting to know you" interrogation stuff.

(Danny can probably keep the full extent of his halfa status a secret from Bruce at first, but he is forced to tell Bruce about the ectoplasm running through him since it's the only reason the blood blossom toxin even works on him. Which results in him telling him a.. slightly omitted version of why he even has that in there in the first place.)

(Maybe he reveals that he was a hero in order to convince Bruce to let him out on the field rather than being just support? I've got ideas and fortunately your tags will help me delve into them)

#alfred pretends to be exasperated that bruce kidnapped a kid but honestly hes relieved#maybe being responsible for someone else will make bruce more responsible for his own health

no notes. just know that i'm wheezing at this. my friend @kingcrow01 had Alfred essentially reacting the same fucking way.

#the media would eat it up are you kidding??? the reclusive prince of gotham seen with a mysterious child???#and theyve both got that sickly pathetic wet cat look to them what with bruce constantly being injured and danny being chronically poisoned

FR! I love social media shenanigans and I love seeing it in fic (Lex Luthor's Ascent From Supervillainy To Fatherhood is a really good example of it imo), although i'm not too good at making it myself. Imagining how twitter in-universe might react to photo evidence of Danny with Bruce is going to fuel my desire for seeing people's reactions to things for ages. I am delighted to imagine that dumpster fire. The in-universe memes, guys.

Nobody has any clue what this mysterious Wayne child looks like for the longest time because Danny follows Bruce's lead and dresses in Anti-Paparazzi Recluse Fits. Mostly because he's the godchild of an equally reclusive and influential billionaire figure, and I imagine Vlad would pitch a media fit trying to find his poor, beloved godson.

Can you imagine the fucking SCANDAL if people found out that Vlad Masters' godson ran off and was currently living with recluse Gotham Prince Bruce Wayne? The tabloids would eat this shit up. It's a three-course meal that's paying their rent for the next three months. That's not even to say what Vlad might do upon finding out Danny's whereabouts.

So yeah, photo evidence of Danny only has shots of him wearing a large hoodie, one of Bruce's jackets, and a medical face mask and a hat. It doesn't hide any of the Sickly Pathetic Wet Cat look, if anything it enhances it. But you can see his bright 'staring into your soul like the oracle of delphi' blue eyes, and the black curls plastering his face, and his pale skin.

In some photos, as blurry as they are, Danny appears to be leaning into Bruce's side, seemingly using him as a support. The "antidote" (medicine?) Bruce created that first night was effective, but it wears off eventually. Before they make his medical bracelets, the both of them agree to use the antidote Bruce made to stave off the worst of the poison.

These photos are taken around the times the antidote was wearing off or had worn off, and the toxin was taking itself out of the backseat and shifting back into high gear. Despite that, Danny managed to convince Bruce to let him tag along on whatever shopping run he was on.

Someone took one of these photos and captioned it "Pathetic Wet Cat and his Sickly Pathetic Wet Kitten" and posted it on SMS. It got numbers.

Oh my god, I just thought of this but when Battinson is finally cornered by reporters asking him about Danny he does this:

he internally panics, and then with a straight face says "i don't know what you're talking about. i don't have a son." and then he Flees.

(this blows up in his face because the reporter he responded to never asked him if Danny was his son, they asked him who the boy seen with him was. Bruce is trending on twitter before he even makes it home. He's mortified. There's potential here for a scene between Bruce and Danny where they have that long-awaited 'are we family?' conversation.)

#i know everyone's focusing on danny working as a hero with batman and his relationships with dick and jason and everyone as the older siblin#but im still stuck on early days batman with a teenager to care for and how that dynamic is going to be SO DIFFERENT#than that same bruce with a 9 year old Dick. like the circumstances are so different and hes never bat-dopted a kid before this

NO BECAUSE YOU GET IT. YOU GET IIIIT! I fucking love older brother danny, however the biggest appeal of the "eldest son danny" idea is in fact how he and bruce's relationship would have to play out in order for that to happen. You could argue that Danny could be an 'older brother figure' to the Robins and still not have any familial affiliation with Batman, but the fact of the matter is, simply? I want that familial affiliation with Bruce. I want to see how that would play out, and how it would develop.

I am. a scientist prodding a little glass stirring rod at the potential family dynamic of Bruce Wayne and Danny Fenton and going, in complete wonderment and awe, "wow. fascinating. how does that work? how did you happen? what made you? how can i do it again?"

I also think there could be something fascinating over the fact that Bruce Wayne watched his parents die in front of him, while Danny's parents don't even know Danny died at all. A (once) child with dead parents, and a dead child with living parents. I think there's something to be explored there, I just haven't yet figured out what.

And yeah! a teen is completely different than an 8 year old. They're in very different developmental stages in their life, and that's not even addressing their lifestyle differences. When I made this prompt I mentally kinda just placed the death of danny's parents as having happened a few months ago. To me, it feels like enough time for Vlad's temperament to escalate from bad to worse, and for him to actually cook up that blood blossom toxin.

Danny's at a different mourning period compared to Dick, who was brought in while it wasn't even a day old. Maybe Danny hasn't had much time to mourn his family as much as he's wanted because he's been stuck in survival mode living with Vlad, and once he feels secure with Bruce he can finally tap into that grief he's been keeping on the backburner.

Lots of things to explore that can adjusted and changed as needed! Very flexible.

All in all though, I am a sucker for found family and in order for Danny to have family in Dick and the others, he needs to find it with Bruce.

#and this one has a crazy demon murder godfather and poison blood and a history of punching otherworldly apocalypse-creatures#into another dimension. no parenting book will help.

no notes here other than yeah, agreed, wheeze. The good news is that he doesn't need to be completely afraid that those otherworldly potential-apocalypse kickstarters will show up at any random point, Because, imo, Danny shut down and destroyed the portal before he could be shipped off in order to prevent anyway (cough-the GIW-cough) from accessing it. Vlad's the only one with a working portal currently and he's not as careless as the fentons are as to keep it open willy-nilly.

now the only thing he needs to worry about is the crazy demon godfather and the flora-boros blood toxin in his son's veins! whoo.

#and like yeah danny will want to help gotham and save people#but honestly? with his new limitations and no expectations from a previous robin do you think he would do it the same way?

I love this question! because honestly when I was initially expanding on this idea on my own, my initial answer was "no" due to the toxin's limitations. I had the same idea as you where Danny takes on a more 'oracle' role where he's not out in the field, but he's still helping behind the scenes. I was torn between "logically would this happen" as well as "chronically ill people aren't delicate flowers, they can do things" and a little dash of "okay but i really want nightingale out in the field"

In the end I decided that I liked the idea of Danny actually out with Bruce, and that as a result there would need to appropriate consequences and drawbacks for this decision.

#idk guys he fights ghosts because no one else can#i think he'd probably play a much more supportive role. at least at first. << you're totally right, too. And Danny's motivations for wanting to help in Gotham would have to be different than in Amity Park. Oooo this has good character growth potential.

Danny helps Amity Park out of a sense of obligation right? Like obviously it's also because he's a good person, but ultimately it kinda comes across as an obligation. He's the only one who can, so he's the one to do it, despite the fact that throughout the show he's shown to want that normal life. There's guilt there if he doesn't do anything; he has the power to stop this, so why shouldn't he?

(Oo, doesn't that sound kinda familiar? Guilt over something he ultimately has no control over, but thinks he could have?)

So! For him to choose to decide to rejoin the hero life, and not just from behind the curtain, feels like a pretty big character decision to me. Especially because now, he doesn't really have the power to help. Not like he did before.

He's sickly, essentially powerless because using his powers speeds up the toxin, and equipped only with his wits, his creativity, and whatever fighting skills he may have acquired during his time as Phantom -- and whatever martial arts prowess the author decides to have Maddie pass down to Danny.

He's not doing this because he feels like he has to, but because he wants to. I think that's pretty cool.

You reminded me that ideas can be combined too! It's dealers choice for anyone who wants to throw their hat into the ring in how Danny decides to join the frontline fight.

I'm going to kinda contradict myself here but one of my ideas for Danny going from behind-the-scenes to in-your-face-scenes is just. Batman needing backup for a fight. I'm not going to go into specifics for who he's facing, because frankly i'm not sure myself, but he needs backup.

And Danny, who likes to sit in the cave more often than not, waiting for Bruce to come back, sees this through whatever cameras are available. He's stressed out, worried for Batman's safety. This could be a good catalyst for the overarching subplot of him rejoining the hero scene as well as hey, maybe realizing that he doesn't need his powers to help people.

Danny's warring with himself about what to do. Trying to soothe his anxieties by reminding himself that Bruce is an incredible fighter and good at getting out of tight spots, telling himself it would be fine. Rebuffing the little voice in his mind saying he should help by telling it that he might make things worse. And when his subconscious tries to tell him that he can help, he rebuffs it by saying does he need to?

And there, right there, is what's been playing on repeat for however long it takes for him to become nightingale. Every night: "I can help, but do I need to?" and during this night is when he has an epiphany; "No, but I want to."

it's like the sun peaking through the clouds after weeks of gray skies. He wants to help. He can help, but not because he should or because he's able to, although that is important, but because he wants to.

So he finds where Bruce hides the face paint, smears what he think is an adequate amount on his face -- it looks almost mask like. And hunts down one of the spare utility belts -- he ends up having to wrap it around his shoulder and torso like a bandolier due to how tall Bruce is and how willowy Danny is. he already has a hoodie on, and pulls it up over his head. And fuck it, i'm calling down the Rule of Cool Law. Danny finds one of Bruce's spare capes and tears it up to make a makeshift scarf to better hide his face. He gets some other tools he needs that he knows Bruce uses, and then he's off.

(Bruce is both very shocked and very upset when Danny comes crashing through the ceiling with a faux-confident; "Hiyo, B! You're looking pretty bat-tered, so I thought I'd come in and give a helping claw!")

(Results in what I think is a very funny post-fight conversation where they have something of a hissed argument in front of the half-conscious criminals. "what are you doing here?!" "i wanted to help!" "where'd you learn to fight like this?" "mom taught me" -> which causes a fucking BUZZ in the criminal underground when word gets out.)

there's conflict. argument over bruce not wanting danny to come out to help him. Until danny eventually wins out in the end by pulling up footage of phantom on the batcomputer, revealing his previous hero status, and pure damn stubbornness. Bruce agrees but only after he updates Danny's self-defense and gets him a proper suit.

#alfred cant handle TWO wet rats getting beat up every night lol

singling this out because it's funny and you're rIGHT.

#danny innovating new and better bat gadgets. making good humanitarian use of the wayne money in ways that would make sam proud. #making sure alfred isnt the only thing standing between bruce and bruce's death at the hands of the city he loves

Danny's bambi eyes are lethal work, and Alfred's favorite employ whenever Bruce is being stubborn. Even after rejoining the active hero scene, Danny will still team up with Alfred to drag Bruce to bed or rest. Excuse you, don't make the same mistakes he did! He's the elder hero here!

Danny churns out so many anti-ghost gadgets for Bruce for the inevitable confrontation with Vlad, along with non-ecto gadgets just because he wants him safe. It becomes an unusual bonding experience for the both of them to come up with gadget ideas together and then figuring out how to make it work, and then building them together.

Vigilante equivalent of helping dad in the garage except you're both fixing the car and telling the other to grab them the 3/5th quarter-inch flathead screwdriver from the toolbox.

Danny is delighted to have someone to bounce ideas off of with, as does Bruce.

For the good old "fights are one of the ways ghosts socialize" trope: They have regular training sessions, but it's Danny who asks if they could sometimes just have some for-fun sparring sessions. Then has to very embarrassedly explain to Bruce that it's just something ghosts do with each other to socialize sometimes.

Bruce reads between the lines and sees it for what it is: play fighting. Danny's asking to play fight. There are no parenting books on taking care of a half-ghost teen, but he immediately thinks on a documentary on lions he saw a while ago and agrees.

These play fights more often than not result in Danny being tossed around like a ragdoll and loving it -- he's light as feathers and being thrown up into the air feels like he's flying again. Something he can't do anymore for obvious reasons. Plus the ghostly bonding thing.

I don't have much to add about the humanitarian use of wayne money thing, i agree. It also makes Bruce proud and could help inspire him to start getting more involved with Wayne Industries so he can start using his parents' company for humanitarian use as well.

#MAN imagine the fluff of danny learning to decipher bat grunts#if anyone has experience seeing past the crazy obsessive seemingly single minded focus of a parental figure and to the real love and care#that exists so deeply and truly under and throughout it all it'll be danny

aaaaaa, man you're so right. i was talking to crow about this but, for context, the idea was that Nightingale has a tendency to sometimes bite his opponents. And it's become something almost like a signature surprise move because he has Ghost Fangs, but the first time this happens its during some kind of gang fight between B, Gale, and a handful of goons.

However, the fight halts to surprised stop when one of the guys shrieks out; "OW, HE BIT ME!" and like a spell, everyone turns, flabbergasted, towards the guy who said it. Because what the fuck did you mean he bit you, wHY IS HE BITING.

And there, hanging off the guy's arm with all the smug self-satisfaction of a cat, is Nightingale, with his fangs still chomped down onto the guy's arm. There's a few seconds of silence, long enough for everyone to see what's going on, before Gale reorients his momentum and kicks the guy square in the jaw; knocking him out cold.

The thing that catches everyone's attention is that Nightingale drew blood. They watch, half-terrified, half-baffled, as the kid scrunches his nose up, wipes at his mouth, and makes a noise of disgust. He turns to look at Batman, who has also stopped what he's doing to stare as well.

Nightingale asks him; "Am I gonna have to get checked for this?"

Rather than deign him with a response, Batman remains silent. They stare at each other for three whole seconds, before Nightingale clicks his tongue like Batman had said something he didn't like, but expected.

"Aw, okay." Then without missing a beat, he turns and launches himself like a feral cat at the closest person next to him, and the room descends back into chaos once more.

Man, I'm just imagining them working next to each other on their own personal project, and Danny will quietly ask for Bruce's opinion on something. Bruce gives him a single grunt, and Danny's silent for a moment, contemplative, before muttering something like "huh, i guess you're right" or "oh, good idea."

Danny eventually adopts Bruce's little "hrm" quirk himself, and it slowly goes from: "hey, what do you think about this?" "hrm" "that's what I thought too" to: "..hmn?" "hm."

The ever consistent urge to make Your Blorbo The Most Specialist Character On The Block Ever is forever a plague of mine, and I'm very tempted to say that Danny is the only other kid except Cass who can do the "hm?" "hn" thing back to back with Bruce. Don't get me wrong, the other batkids can do the "Hey X thing" "hm" "okay" thing, and on some level can do the "hm" "hm" thing too, but they can't do it quite to the same extent as Danny can, and its from those years where it was just the two of them.

but yess!! I agree! Danny's got experience with that kind of obsessiveness, Bruce reminds him a lot of his parents that way and he understands it the best out of all his siblings as a result. It also means, however, that he willingly goes in to drag Bruce out of whatever obsessive rabbit hole he's fallen into, if he feels that Bruce has been too hyperfocused on something. He saw it with his parents, and it ended up killing them. He's not losing another dad because of his foolish tunnel vision.

#bruce is so much quieter than his parents but man if danny doesnt understand him. and maybe bruce comes to learn what dannys used to as well#comes to learn to speak his affection and open up so much more. to make danny feel more comfortable and welcome

AGAIN, NO NOTES. This is perfect and yes. I've got nothing to add.. okay I lied, i just needed a moment to think. Bruce isn't the most physically affectionate person, but he starts to be thanks to Danny, who is very tactile. Same thing with verbal praise, Danny hardly got any of it in school or, regretfully, at home since Jazz tended to get all the praise.

Bruce tells him "good eye" once after Danny spotted something before Bruce did, and Danny preened so brightly Bruce genuinely wondered if stars were going to appear over his head. He'd gotten his hands on video footage about Phantom that had shown him doing that exact same thing.

(oh which reminds me. The moment Danny tells Bruce about his previous hero experience as Phantom, Bruce goes on a research helldive to get his hands on everything about it. He's watched every single video showing Phantom. There were very few videos of Phantom that weren't videos of his fights, which were horrifying to watch on multiple levels.

Including but not limited to the fact that ghosts could apparently survive the most lethal of injuries, and he was never going to get the image of Phantom yanking a steel pipe out of his chest out of his head, or him pulling out a broken chunk of glass from his throat.)

(It was even worse seeing videos of Danny's parents shooting at him. That was a long, uncomfortable conversation.)

Another time Bruce is asking Danny about being a ghost, and Danny wistfully tells him that the thing he misses most is flying. Grappling through the city is the closest thing to it, but it's still fundamentally different -- and in some ways more exciting -- than flying. The closest comparison he could give is an indoor skydiving ring.

Bruce, a week later, rents out an indoor skydiving ring for the day and Danny spends hours inside the wind tunnel. He tells Bruce all about the similarities and differences in the car on the drive home, and then tells him that next time Bruce should try it too.

Just, all-in-all, seeing how these two interact and impact each other is what makes this so appealing to me. Especially with early years Batman. And I had so much fun typing all this out, thanks for the opportunity to infodump haha.

#UGH OP THIS POST TT-TT

AH YOUR TAGS <33

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[orcelito]

Wonderful news, sleeping 10 hours has turned my limbs from active angry buzzing beehive to relatively stable. Still a little ache but there's always a little ache. And! I'm not nauseous! Yay!

[corduroyghost]

need to sit outside and listen to wind chimes or I am going to THROW UP