#prompt bullet

[saltymarshmall0w]

Danny is "in denial" about the Waynes being vigilantes

Danny is really grateful for the Waynes taking him in and all but it’s just… it’s really obvious they’re vigilantes. Do they WANT him to find out? Why?? To join their battalion?

Hell nah. He’s already got enough going on trying to keep in check the many shades in the city.

Danny simply pretends to be oblivious about the Waynes being vigilantes. That's a future Danny problem.

It turns into Kyle levels of denial, where he ends up pretending he thinks the vigilantes are actors hired by the city to cover up all the ghosts haunting Gotham.

And obviously, the city bases them on the infamously growing Wayne family. It's so sweet of the Waynes to volunteer to dress up as their character for public appearances.

Meanwhile, Bruce has banned outright telling Danny even though it's been nearly a year of him living with them. So what if Danny glows sometimes and has full conversations with invisible people in dark alleyways, everyone has their quirks! so, the Batkids have resolved to just "accidentally" leave their mask on after patrol or make tactical plans loudly about taking down Penguin's latest scheme with Danny a room over.

-

“Is Dick coming to the Gala?” Danny asked as his head swiveled between his phone and the mirror as he attempted to tie his own tie. How did his mom always make it look so easy?

“No, he is going out as Batman tonight, since Father is unable to.” Damian responded. He may as well be blasé about their identities, seeing as Fenton was obviously both completely aware of their identities and completely in denial.

“Oh, man. Does that mean one of the “rouges” are going to attack the gala?” Danny asked, “It’s probably going to be that Two-face guy, huh? He hasn’t made an appearance in a while and his character arc with “Brucie” hasn’t made any progress in a while.”

“Nonsense, there is no predicting the mindset of a criminal like Two-face.” Damian ignored Danny’s disbelieving scoff as he maneuvered his newest brother to face him so he could take over the task for him, else they would be standing there all night. “Besides, Drake is in charge of security for the gala and will do an adequate job securing the venue. If you are afraid remain by my side where I can protect you.”

Damian tightened the tie around Danny's neck and stepped back to let Fenton pull his own collar down.

"That's very sweet of you, Dami." Danny reached up a hand and mussed up Damian's newly-gelled hair, garnering a growl and a shove from the boy. "But you should do normal kid things during the gala, like accidentally saying rude things to old ladies, or complaining about how bored you are, and don't forget to prank all the evil billionaires."

...

The “I told you so.” Danny brazenly mouthed to Damian later in the evening from where Two-face held a gun to his head was as infuriating as it was distressing.

—

(Kyle Weston is the fanon brother of Wes Weston (also a fanon character) who’s whole thing is that he believes in conspiracy theories like Wes, but doesn’t believe in ghosts at all to Wes’s frustration.)

[greenglowinspooks]

To be honest. DCxDP where the reason Danny meets the bats is Ace the Bat-hound

Like, just think about it for a second. Danny is in Gotham for college, or maybe he just moved out to find a city where having mad scientist parents isn’t actually that unusual.

He can see ghosts.

The ghosts know this.

Now he’s getting harassed left and right by spirits trying to get closure. Fine, whatever, most of them are a one-and-done type deal, and the amount of ghosts trying to get his help steadily decreases.

Except for this one very stubborn dog.

It just keeps showing up and leading him to crime scenes! He doesn’t know how many “anonymous tips” he can call in to the cops before they trace his phone! And this dog, this incredibly good boy, will not stop trying to help the city. He’s never met anyone with such a strong sense of justice, let alone a dog. Can dogs even have a moral compass?

And so Danny just accepts the fact that Ace isn’t going anywhere and becomes his reluctant sidekick/dedicated medium. He leans into the whole thing, dressing up in a mix of traditional magic-user attire and accessories that pay homage to the ghost dog.

He becomes somewhat well known. The psychopomp detective following around the shadowy figure of a German Shepard? That’s unusual! That’s weird! I mean, it’s not the weirdest thing in Gotham, sure, but he’s a new vigilante and he’s got a ghost dog that people can only see when it’s around him. Someone’s gonna notice.

Damian, as Robin, is the first to reach out to him.

Ace doesn’t know Damian but he does know a Robin, and while this isn’t his Robin, he’s still friendlier than usual. Danny’s panicking because oh god the bats are here and also is this kid gonna steal my ghost dog, Damian is absolutely delighted by Ace, and Ace is just happy to see a Robin again.

Damian decides that the psychopomp isn’t a danger to anyone, and there’s no reason to put this encounter into his reports, really, and perhaps Danny can help with some of his cases in the future.

Danny is sweating bullets because Damian basically tells him that he’ll keep him secret as long as he gets to play with Ace. Ace is happy that he’s finally getting some bat affiliated crime-fighting assistance.

And so, Danny is now both Ace AND Damian’s reluctant assistant. At least whenever he’s in trouble, he can always call a middle schooler to help him.

(Is Robin even in school? He’s out patrolling damn near every night, and he stays out late as hell. Does he have a bedtime? He should.)

Eventually it gets to the point where Damian is going over to Danny’s house. When he first sees it, he has a damn bitch you live like this moment, to which Danny responds that not everyone has the money to afford a nice place. Damian counters that he could at least take the time to clean up, and Danny replies that he’s working, going to school, and being a vigilante assistant to a ghost dog, something’s got to give.

Danny nearly has a heart attack when he checks his bank account the next day and sees that someone transferred him 10,000 dollars.

And so they get into a routine. Danny and Damian fight crime with Ace at night, and occasionally Damian stops by during the day to play with Ace and have Danny help with his homework.

(Damian is smart enough to do it on his own, but some of the instructions are written incredibly confusingly, and he would never admit to needing help to his family. Danny is just glad that the kid is in school and cares about his education, blissfully unaware that he’s basically emotionally adopted him.)

Damian is used to being in Danny’s company.

Eventually, when going over a case with the family, Damian absentmindedly remarks that he’ll have to ask Danny about some of the clues that they might be missing. Nightwing asks who he means and Damian makes a face like he just swallowed a lemon.

Cue shitstorm.

Who is “Danny?” Why is Damian willing to ask for help from anyone, much less someone outside of the family? Does he know who Damian is? Has Damian been compromised? What the hell is going on?

Damian now has to explain that Danny is the psychopomp with the ghost dog who he might have met hunted down while on patrol and conveniently not mentioned, but he’s not a bad person, really, and he lets him play with Ace, and he’s been quite helpful on certain cases due to his ability to talk to ghosts.

Bruce insists that the family meet Danny. Damian, hoping that he won’t just skip town the second he hears the news, relents.

Danny is surprisingly eager to meet the bats, considering his earlier fears.

Damian, blissfully unaware of what’s coming, sets a time and place to meet.

Once everyone is there, he gives Bruce the earful of a lifetime.

Robin is in middle school! Danny knows that there’s no way to stop the boy from going on patrol, but you could at least shift his schedule so he gets enough sleep on school nights! Does the Bat even know where he is half the time?! (No) And why isn’t he comfortable asking his family for help with both cases and homework? Did they ever even notice how much time he was spending at Danny’s house? If Danny was a bad person, he could have seriously hurt the poor boy! Shame on you!

Nightwing is mortified that Damian didn’t trust him enough to tell him about any of this. Red Hood is laughing his ass off, because yeah Danny is making good points but he’s also chewing out the literal Batman. Tim is recording the whole thing. Steph is delighted by the absolute gall of this Danger Twink™️, and already planning to add him to several groupchats. Damian is more embarrassed than he’s ever been in his entire life.

You, he points to Nightwing, did your academic life feel supported when you were a Robin? Nightwing is too stunned to speak. Red Hood, eternal shit-stirrer, says that oh, we all prioritized patrol over our education, that’s just how it is. Red Robin actually dropped out of high school to avoid distractions, did you know that?

Danny honest-to-god shrieks at this.

He finishes his angry rant and leaves, everyone too stunned to stop him.

And as it turns out, Tim wasn’t the only person recording the whole thing.

The entire internet is blowing up with Psychopomp The Danger Twink™️’s rant. People are taking sides. Things are getting messy. Red Hood literally admitting on-camera to previously being a Robin is somehow not the main focus here.

Eventually someone connects some dots from the video, as well as stories circling the internet about the psychopomp. A ghost dog named Ace, who is the literal only reason that the psychopomp is fighting crime at all, which seems incredibly fond of Nightwing and Robin.

A crime-fighting dog who wants constant attention from both the current and original Robin.

Oh my god, Ace the Bat-hound died and became a crime-fighting ghost.

And, somehow, that’s still not the strangest thing going on in Gotham.

[stars-obsession-pit]

Ghost King Danny with de-aged Dani/Ellie as his daughter (or possibly trapped in her core form healing after some traumatic experience)

Someone (maybe Jason Todd) encounters her while in the realms and misunderstands the situation to think Danny is keeping her captive or something to that effect (and probably also doesn’t quite realize who/what Danny is). Thus, they choose to “rescue” (kidnap) her—taking her with them when they leave.

So now Danny’s daughter is missing, and he’s on a warpath looking for her. But the multiverse is an impossibly big place, so he’s yet to find the specific universe they escaped to

During this, the Justice League happens to summon him to deal with an unrelated threat.

Upon arriving, Danny senses these summoners have connections to the kidnapper he’s searching for, so he demands that they “return what was taken from him” soon (probably within a week at most) or he’ll kill every last one of them himself.

The JL is terrified. They knew they were dealing with an incredibly powerful entity, but they expected indifference (not caring about their issue beyond what payment they offer him) rather than outright hostility towards them.

Thus, there’s a panicked scramble to try to figure out what the hell it is he was referring to so they can return it before they’re all killed.

Oh and also that other threat they summoned Danny to deal with is still out there, so they have to try to manage that too so it doesn’t destroy them in the meantime.

They’ll likely also assume they have to figure out how to fully stop that threat too (since the Ghost King might not help them out even if they do manage to return the thing), but that’s slightly less immediate of a threat at the moment.

[soulless-bex]

has “killing a god makes you take up their mantle” ever been done in the pjo fandom? as in Percy accidentally kills Ares on that beach and becomes the god of war at 12? or Percy accidentally killing Hades and becoming the god of the underworld at 16? or Percy finishing off Kronos himself and becoming the god of time at 16? or Percy going too far and killing Achlys and becoming the god of poison at 16?

[stealingyourbones]

“Pissing all by yourself handsome?” Red Hood turns with a jerk to look at the person who just entered the 7/11 bathroom on the border of Crime Alley at 3:32am. A sickly grey skinned teenager stood in the bathroom. His nasty oil stained leather coat covering his wrinkled white t and black pants with far too many belts holding it up, leaned against the doorway of the bathroom. His hole ridden biker glove covered hands crossing his chest right below his glowing green skull necklace. The half lidded green eyes looking through his straw blonde hair and smug smirk of the ghastly bastard enforcing Red Hood’s choice to pull out his gun and fire at the fucker.

[kettlefire]

As Good as Good Gets (DP X DC Snippet)

Richard "Dick" Grayson is the golden child. In the eyes of the public, and in the eyes of the league. Dick is a sweet, caring son, a man who went from being a sidekick to being a hero. The pipeline from Robin to Nightwing had many people applauding his dedication to keeping Gotham safe.

No one knew the full story, not truly. No one but Bruce Wayne himself. And maybe a certain butler. Many don't know that Dick only became Robin to stop him from hunting down and killing the man who killed his parents.

No one really knows about the harsh fights and arguments he has had with Bruce. The times when Dick would find himself cut off from the Wayne name for a week or so. No one knows that the first person Dick warmed up to was Alfred. Having been bribed with cookies.

Things weren't always this good, trusting, happy relationship between Bruce and Dick. It had been a rough ride, a complicated one. But that was okay, because it got better.

Dick stopped being so moody and angsty. He grew up, he learned, and he changed. He became an older brother, found people that needed him. Needed him in a way that the citizens of Gotham didn't need him.

His brothers like to call him annoying. A goody two shoes who Bruce trusted more than everyone else. They couldn't fathom how someone like Dick could be so stupid and bubbly at all times.

All times, except when shit hits the fans. Despite the name calling, despite coining Dick as the stupid Wayne. They all knew better. They knew that when it mattered, Dick Grayson always pulled through. He was a force to be reckoned with when needed.

The whole Wayne family was a force to be reckoned with when called for. It didn't have to be under the guise of costumes and vigilante acts. Whether he was Officer Grayson or Nightwing, Dick was a man with his morals and values.

One night on patrol as Officer Grayson, Dick found someone who needed that force. A force willing to protect and care for the innocent. The hurt. The damaged, yet still good.

It started like any other night. A call of shots fired by an empty warehouse. There was no sighting or knowledge of any rouges being there, so Dick took the call. Told the team he'll contact them if it seems more than just a civilian incident.

The warehouse was dark, reeked of copper and oil. It didn't take long for Dick to find the trail. The liquid he found looked like the person had been dragged before walking. There was a clear struggle, even with the mess and emptiness that was the warehouse.

That wasn't Dick's biggest concern. The concern lay in just how much blood there was. Too much for any normal person to lose and still manage to stumble through the warehouse.

It wasn't just blood. It wasn't that much, but Dick could spot the strangeness in the liquid. The mixed in green that had an eerily similar color and glow as a certain pit.

Without thinking, Dick followed the trail. Barely remembering to make contact with his family. Give them an update on what he found. Words telling him to stay put for backup went in one ear and out the other.

Something in Dick's gut was telling him he couldn't wait. He needed to find the source. Whoever was currently bleeding out in this warehouse. He silenced the comm, moving further through the dimly lit building.

Then Dick found it. Or more so, he found him. It was just a boy. A boy that reminded Dick too much of the youngest Wayne. A boy sat against a wall, looking pale and weak.

Red and green coated the front of the boy's shirt, arms wrapped tightly around his middle. An attempt to stem the bleeding. A puddle had already started to form beneath the boy, and Dick moved without thinking once again.

He quickly found himself kneeling beside the boy, hands carefully reaching out. Before Dick even touched him, the boy flinched. Eyelids suddenly opened, wide and terrified blue eyes landed on Dick's.

In just that one look, Dick knew what he had to do. The haunting, terrified, and pained look in the boy's eyes told Dick everything he needed to know. The boy was in danger. Someone had hurt this kid, and it was clear it wasn't the first time.

The boy struggled weakly against Dick's touch, terrified whimpers, and barely coherent pleas spilled from the kid's lips. It had Dick's heart aching, clear as day the poor kid has been through hell and back.

It took a lot of reassurance, gentle touches, and promises of help before the kid let Dick take a look at the bleeding wound. A promise on Dick's soul had been the final thing that earned him any semblance of trust. A strange promise, but Dick was willing to make it.

That concern turned to pure anger the moment Dick managed to pull the sticky shirt away from the wound. The sight of a Y-incision cut perfectly into the skin, stitches tight on the skin, but blood still leaking heavily from the wound.

It didn't take long for Dick to realize why. Despite the perfect surgical care of the wound, a good couple of stitches had broken. Leaving gaping spots for that red and green liquid to pour out of.

The boy was deathly silent, tears streaking down his cheek as wide blue eyes stayed trained on Dick. In that moment, Dick knew he had to help. Had to get the kid to safety, patch him up, and find out what kind of monster would do this.

It didn't matter if the kid was human or not. It didn't matter if the kid had special abilities or not. No one, absolutely no one, deserved to be vivisected.

The kid was shrouded in mystery, but that mystery only seemed to grow and become clearer when Bruce had entered the scene. The boy had tensed, eyes flashing a bright glowing green.

Lazarus pit green.

It set a pit of dread in Dick's gut. His mind brings forward memories of Jason. Jason, after his revival, after his dip in that cursed pit. The same flash that his brother would get if he got too angry. Too emotional.

As much as Dick wanted to focus on finding who did this, if it had any connection to Ra's al Ghul. He couldn't. Not when the kid tried to get up, to pull away as Bruce and the others made their way closer.

Right now, Dick only cared about making sure the boy was okay. Fixing those stitches, getting him a meal, and a warm bed.

He needed to get this kid someplace where he felt safe and secure. Comfortable and protected. Dick wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the promise he had made, but he wasn't letting anyone get to the kid.

That included his family. As strange as it seemed, Dick put himself between the others and the kid. Shooting them all a glare that they had only ever seen a handful of times.

Dick lifted the poor boy up in his arms, cradling the crying child close as he led the way out of the warehouse. Ignoring the questions or confusion coming from Bruce and the others. As Dick walked, feeling the trembling boy clinging to him, he made a rather obvious realization.

Maybe the eldest son really was more like Bruce than he expected. Just a few short moments the the boy, a boy that Dick didn't know his name, and he was ready to pull out adoption papers. To give the boy a safety he so desperately needs.

Give him the chance that Bruce had given him all those years ago.

[shushmal]

Okay a season 4 au Eddie’s full name is Benjamin Edward Munson and everyone finds out about this from the radio while driving the RV, some local news update. Everyone turns and stares at him. Steve slams on the breaks.

Eddie: … what?

Lucas: Your first name is Benjamin?

Eddie, scowling: and if you ever call me that, I’ll—

Everyone: OH GOD

And that’s how Eddie gets man handled into a bullet proof vest and a motor cycle helmet, and any other protective tactical great they find.

[zuliuli]

Minetines by @ivormybeloved 🌟

Day 4- Fav AU

I had a few in mind for this but...

I finally got around to reading some of enden-agolor's and soaringhopes forest deity AU!!

IM GOING TO THROW HANDS. WHY IS IT SO GOOD!!!

[kjwriting]

Whumper digging their heel into whumpee’s bullet wound, making them release a strangled scream.

Whumpee’s mind goes blank as the searing pain invades all of their senses.

Bonus points if Caretaker has to watch.

[trashydez]

like a phoenix. (2.7k words)

what if phoenix- instead of being virtually indestructible, actually wasnt? what if he was actually incredibly prone to death, but he just… never stayed dead?

(trigger warning for a multitude of causes of deaths!! some in detail and some not. other tw’s include implied suicide attempts, implied child neglect, derealisation and thinking one is already dead. be warned! take care of yourself!)

at 9, he wakes in his bed after having a high fever and his mom ships him off to school hours after it began. he finds it odd, because last he’d checked his temperature (that morning, when he told his mom he felt like he was going to die and his mom had left to go run errands, barely sparing him a glance), his temperature had been at 107 degrees farenheit. that was definitely high, but after he slipped into unconsciousness, writhing and restless and in a lot of pain, he woke up to his mother checking his temperature and saying he was fine to head off to school. he didnt feel fine, but his temperature had gone down significantly enough that his mother felt like he had no excuse not to go. hes glad he went to school though, even as he shivered, sneezed and sniffled, because there he found a friend in a boy with a funny bowtie and a heart made of gold.

he crunches and chokes on glass shards and poison but doesnt die. the doctors dont find anything wrong with him, aside from feeling a bit ill, so he goes back into the courtroom and dollie is convicted of murder. hes happy his roommate is away for some theatre troupe thing, because the sickness eventually catches up to him and he throws up shards of glass, acid and blood. it cuts into his throat and burns his eyes and he swears, he swears he dies right then and there, freezing and shaking and everything hurts. but when he wakes up hours later, the sun having set and the only light source in his dingy dormroom the moon outside, hes amazed to not feel sick anymore. but the puddle of sludge is drying beside his face and he considers himself lucky, or maybe unlucky, because unlike dahlia’s other victims, he actually lives to tell the tale.

phoenix arrives early to the office, having been in the public library nearby reading a book on reincarnation. he enters the office and promptly has his skull caved into his brain. he does not see his assailant, but when he wakes, theres an oddly dressed girl crying, crouched over his boss’ cold body. he doesn’t think about the drying blood in the back of his head, or how cold mia’s body is (and why he can even tell, considering the fact he has not touched her corpse) or the chapter in the book he’d been reading that talked about quantum immortality— all he thinks of is proving maya fey’s innocence.

as it turns out, being constantly anxious and terrified of mortal peril actually has its perks. maybe the fact he’s a lawyer whose only ever dealt with homicide cases definitely wasn’t benefiting his mental wellbeing either. in any case, its that fear of literally everything and constant feeling of impending doom that makes his body react before his mind does. taser! danger! maya! so, he gets tasered. and it fucking HURTS, but he feels more relieved than frightened as the searing pain shoots through him, because he’d been able to push maya away before von karma got to them both. wasnt a symptom of death by electrocution an overwhelming feeling of helplessness and imminent death? maybe he was going crazy. when he comes back though, its to his head in the lap of a crying spirit medium, so maybe a psychotic break isnt too bad if it means everyone else gets to escape with no damage to their own psyche.

its only after she stops screaming in terror- oh my god, nicks a zombie!! kyahh!!!- and nearly beating him with her bulky magatama necklace, that she tells him what she saw. (“like, there was a sudden bright light and then i realised it was coming from you! but when i tried to touch your glowing skin,” she says it like its the most absurd thing she’d ever seen, which really said something considering the fact she was from a family of people who could channelthe dead “it was HOT! like, japanifornia summer hot! blazing! i was only able to check your pulse after you cooled down a bit…”). maybe its this that makes him less alarmed by the way his skin glowed in the dark of his trashed bedroom, after drinking himself to death following a certain phone call from a terribly sad, newly bossless detective. he doesnt think he can bear the taste alcohol ever again, after that.

maybe the number of times he’s died of blunt force trauma to the head should be a cause for concern, even more so when he wakes up without any of his memories. he’s terrified, and doesnt even knows who he is, until he does, and is able to prove maggey byrde innocent. fun times! he should probably watch out to make sure his next death wasn’t to the head, lest he be as mentally impaired as a number of people liked to say he was… (and he should probably also be concerned by the fact he was already thinking of the next time he’d die, but ah well, blame it on the concussion).

as it turns out, getting whipped to death was not on his list of ways he thought he’d die next, but life liked to mess with him like that, it seemed. still, dragging his delirious self to the bathroom of his office to try and save the infected wounds from killing him wasn’t all that fun, and he’s immediately reminded of his first death, slow and painful, alone and scared of what came next. he feels bad for feeling relieved when maya shows up and screams upon seeing the state he and the bathroom (that’d he’d accidentally trashed when his legs gave out after he opened the door, a number of bottles fallen to the floor beside him) were in. he stops her from calling the police- there was no point, he didn’t have much time left. but when she asks what she could do, he goes quiet. (…just… stay here? i dont- he coughs up a distinctly red shade of spit. maya makes a noise between a choked cry and a whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck. but phoenix was shivering worse now, and hugs himself tigher. i dont want to die alone.) so she stays with him, on the cold bathroom floor, as his labored breathing eventually slows. when he awakens, he finds maya asleep leaning against him, and promises to get her burgers as a thank you.

who knew death by a monkey throwing a giant bronze bust of max galactica at you could happen? at this point, he’s almost glad he was basically immortal, because there was no way in hell he’d allow his autopsy report to say ‘cause of death: monkey manslaughter’! edgeworth would laugh himself to tears if he saw! not that he could see. or cry, because he was dead. and not coming back. damn.

so edgeworth isnt dead! yippee? he thought it was his thing to get reanimated after death, not edgeworths. when he saw him, standing in the middle of the police department, alive and breathing and very much not dead, he nearly started laughing. he must’ve finally gone insane! curse the amount of times he’d died of brain related injuries, not that he knew how many of them there were at this point. he might actually have laughed a bit, because pearls was looking at him like he was losing it (he was) but he couldnt really bring himself to care as he had more pressing issues at hand, like saving his best friend from a crazy serial killer holding her hostage, and punching his other best friend in the face for faking his own death (because really, dying was his thing! not edgeworths!). and if he pulls edgeworth into a hug immediately after, throwing caution in the wind (you only live once, right?), the warmth- a normal, human temperature, unlike his burning hot when he came back from death- is enough to stabilise his harried mind for just a moment, before he has to return to his guilty client and his hopeless situation.

by some crazy turn of events, he actually doesnt die from having boiling hot coffee thrown at his face. it burns, and maya screams when she sees the boils on his face after that first trial with godot, but after throwing a wet towel over his face and putting him in timeout on the sofa for 12-hours, the burns go away as if they were never there. he fell asleep at some point, and after alot of back and forth debate, they eventually came to the conclusion that 1. his body heat rising to burning levels when he dies must have caused his body has to grow immune to heat and 2. since sleep was like a ‘temporary death’, a ‘temporary wound’ would just heal like it did when he died of normal wounds, right? he didn’t want to dwell on it too much, because maya was looking at him like she wanted to test that theory for real, so he quickly changes topics before things got out of hand.

so their theory on the immunity to heat thing was correct! …almost. larry had tried to stop him, but it was fire and he was basically immune to heat, right? nope! his skin burned and boiled but he didn’t die as he tried to run across the burning bridge. even so, nothing hurt more than falling through one of the burnt planks and slamming onto the surface of the freezing cold rushing stream below. luckily the death was near immediate, but unfortunately he came to while in the water still, so he swallowed a sizeable amount of water before paramedics arrived. he hears the doctors find his survival miraculous, despite the scorching hot fever he was now under. he blacks out again, and comes to in the hospital, feeling absolutely terrible.

the horribleness feels familiar though, and when edgeworth walks in, he realises what it must be, when the man presses the back of his hand to his temple and quickly pulls his hand away as if burned. (oh. he thinks, tearing up despite himself. it must be the fever. i’m going to die like this again.) his internal monologue must’ve been external though, because edgeworth balks (‘again?!’). but phoenix was crying in hiccups and sobs, feeling terrible and like he was nine years old again, wishing his mother were there to nurse him back to health like she’d never done before. he faintly hears edgeworth sitting down on his bed and reaches out, gripping the mans waist like it was a lifeline. in a sense, it was. “don’t go.” he whispers, gripping the man tighter like he’d disappear into thin air (again). “please, please don’t go.” in his delirium, he nearly wails in despair when he feels edgeworth move, but he was only moving to readjust himself so he’s lying next to him, their bodies so close that it must burn, but the only sign edgeworth shows that he’s in pain is a wince and the crease of his brow. he allows himself to be cried on, curling a protective arm over phoenix’s burning body. “i- i dont know what’s going on, wright, but i’m not, i’m not going anywhere, okay?” he seems to be attempting exasperation, but it comes out terrified and concerned, but phoenix is fading quickly, so it might just be his waning mind making up things that don’t exist. “i am terrified. your body is life threateningly hot and— wright? wright!”

he comes to with nurses surrounding him, and a distressed edgeworth swearing on his life that that man was dead, his body was seizing and on fire and- and his heart stopped beating! but phoenix couldn’t dwell on it, because the mention of fire immediately brought him back to why he was in the hospital at all. and plus, it gave him the chance to use his best friends sensitive treatment of him afterwards to convince him to play defense attorney, so that was nice. still, he feels like he dies when he finds out dahlia had actually been iris and that godot was actually his dead mentors apparently not dead boyfriend. oh, and he was also a murderer. he also feels like he dies when dahlia- actual, serial killer and dead by execution dahlia, was exorcised from maya’s body. but that had more to do with his soul leaving his body in terror rather than actually dying, so that was a nice change of pace… probably.

later, he’d had to have a conversation with edgeworth to give him an explanation on just what the hell he’d witnessed in that hospital room. although, apparently his re-aliving symptoms must’ve started becoming more dramatic, because miles describes it as his whole body glowing as bright as the sun, and then his eyes opening for a moment to reveal nothing but white, glowing eyeballs with no irises. phoenix has to convince him to still board his flight the day after, that he was okay… probably. maybe not safe, but definitely okay. (still, edgeworth stays the night at his, and they hold eachother close, basking in the shared warmth of two alive bodies in heat equilibrium, listening to eachothers breathing and rhythmic heartbeats, no signs of impending mortality in sight, save for, what did the french call it? la petite morte? most of all, phoenix basks in the promise miles makes to him. “i’m not going anywhere,” he repeats, over and over like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was phoenix. “i’m not going anywhere, i promise.”)

and when he loses his badge, he thinks he really does die, permanent and definitively. he feels far away from his body when the forger is called to the witness stand. feels like a ghost when the council walks out the room and past him, making no eye contact and answering the unanswered question on the tip of his tongue. feels his life crumble to pieces when a blonde man with a pleasent, almost saintly smile gives him the most maddeningly sympathetic look and tells him he is sorry for his loss, as if there really was someone dead. only, the only one dead must’ve been him, because there was no one else there who had just lost their life. he couldn’t even hear himself as he laughed, which turned into sobs, as he excused himself and fleed to his bicycle. not one pedestrian bats an eye at the state he is in, so he must really be a ghost, cycling past speeding cars and large trucks and buses as if it couldn’t kill him, because he wasn’t there, he was already dead. when he reaches his office, freezing and quiet and dreadfully void of any human life, he passes by the window his boss had died at and sees his reflection, unkempt and red faced and badgeless. he wants to scream, but he couldn’t because no one would hear a ghost scream, so instead he just sits down in the spot his mentor had lost her life in, and mourns.

when two weeks later a warm, incredible alive life falls into his hands in the shape of a little girl with a too big tophat and a joy for being alive that he’d lost years ago, well, maybe he is glad that he couldn’t die for real, if only to be able to wake up to that beaming grin as his little girl tries to pull her daddy out of bed because she’d made breakfast, and it only smells burnt because of the magic something she’d added as a special ingredient. he eats it, char and all, because he can’t taste the burnt-ness of it anyway, but he could taste the love and care put into it, and that was more than enough to take his mind away readying himself for his next death. instead, he thinks of his daughter’s next performance at the wonder bar, and their next trip to kurain, and miles’ next visit. for once, he thinks of living.

[edawgz]

↬ "I know I shouldn't feel this way, but I can't help it... I want you." With Tangerine? A smutty oneeee. Reader probably knowing about his profession, shouldn’t be into him but how can she not be bc look at him-

ᝰ.ᐟ CAN'T HELP MYSELF

𖦹ׂ ₊˚⊹⋆ tangerine x afab. reader. ( bullet train). ~800 words.

❚ ❙ ❘ flirty. sexual tension. innuendoes. smut. forbidden vibe. i love writing tangerine.

: ̗̀➛ You knew what he was. You knew what he did. You knew you should stay away. But when it came to Tangerine, logic never stood a chance against the heat in your chest and the ache he left behind.

❚ this is SUCHHH a scrumptious idea i love it, i fear he would make me ALSO forget all of my better judgement. TYYYY ANONNN this was so fun to write i hope you enjoy!

| masterlist. | atj collection. |

You knew he was dangerous before you ever let him through the door. You knew it in the way he carried himself -- shoulders squared like the weight of the world was just another chore, voice wrapped in a drawl that could cut or soothe depending on how much blood was on his hands that night. And there was always blood... sometimes it was still wet on his knuckles, sometimes dried on his collar like he’d forgotten to scrub the ghosts away. You knew, yet still, when his knock came -- sharp and familiar against your apartment door at half-past two in the morning -- you opened it like a fool.

He leaned against the frame, smug and disheveled, with his curls damp with rain or sweat or both, and the bruise along his jaw stark under the hallway light.

“Gonna invite me in, darling?” he asked, voice low, lips twitching into something that wasn’t quite a smile but still managed to make your heart skip. You didn’t answer, you just stepped aside with your eyes locked on him.

He didn’t wait for permission to touch. He never did. His coat hit the floor somewhere behind him, boots dragged off in clumsy kicks, hands already cradling your face with a kind of tenderness that didn’t match the man, not really. You hated how soft it made you, you hated how easily you tilted your chin up to meet his mouth like you hadn’t promised yourself the last time would be the last. His kiss was heat and smoke and something rougher than need. It was possession, a claim that he never said aloud but pressed into your skin over and over again.

“You smell like gunpowder,” you murmured when he finally let you breathe.

He grinned, teeth flashing, eyes gleaming with something hungry. “Better than the bastard I left bleeding in a stairwell.”

You should’ve pushed him away, told him to leave, and reminded him you weren’t part of that world -- that you didn’t want to be. But your fingers curled into his shirt, dragging him closer until your body answered for you. You wanted him, God help you, you needed him.

He pressed you against the wall, slow but firm, like he knew the exact amount of pressure that would drive you mad. His hands slid under your shirt, knuckles grazing up your ribs with infuriating patience, lips dragging along your neck, warm and open-mouthed. “Say it,” he murmured.

You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but he nipped at your throat, tongue chasing after the sting, and your resistance crumbled.

“I know I shouldn’t feel this way,” you whispered, breath catching as his fingers found the waistband of your pants. “But I can’t help it… I want you.”

He stilled -- just for a moment -- then he laughed, low and almost mean, but there was something behind it.. something jagged. “Yeah? You think I don’t wake up wantin’ you so bad it fucking hurts?”

His hand slipped into your pants, touch skilled and devastating. Your head hit the wall with a soft thud as he worked you open with the kind of focus he usually reserved for targets. “You think I don’t lie there,” he continued, breath hot against your ear, “staring at the ceiling and wondering why the fuck someone like you wants someone like me?”

You reached down, undoing his belt, fingers fumbling slightly from the pace he’d set, and he growled when you freed him, hips jerking against your palm. “Because you make it impossible not to,” you said, voice shaking. “Because I know I shouldn’t, and I still do.”

He kissed you again, all tongue and teeth, like he was trying to crawl inside you. You didn’t stop him, you sure as hell wouldn’t, especially not when he turned you around, not when he bent you over the kitchen counter and pushed your clothes aside like he couldn’t wait a second longer, not when he finally slid inside you with a hiss that scraped low in his throat.

It wasn’t slow. It never was. Yet, there was something almost needy in the way he held your hips, in the way his mouth pressed kisses along your spine between thrusts, in the way he whispered your name like a prayer -- or a plea. He wasn’t a soft men, but in those moments, when your bodies moved in rhythm and your walls came down, he let you see the version of him no one else did. The one who needed and the one who burned.

“Fuck, you feel like home,” he rasped against your shoulder, one hand tangled in your hair now, the other tightening around your waist. “Don’t care if I’m bad for you. Don’t care if I’m the worst fuckin’ idea you ever had. You’re mine.”

You wanted to argue and remind him that this wasn’t love, that it couldn’t be. But then he hit that spot just right and you shattered around him, voice breaking on his name, body trembling under the weight of it. And when he followed, groaning into the crook of your neck like it physically hurt to let go, you knew -- logic be damned -- you’d let him ruin you all over again.

After, he didn’t pull away, he just rested there for a moment, breath still ragged, arms wrapped around you like he could keep the world out for a little longer.

You didn’t say anything. Neither did he. But when his hand found yours and your fingers laced together on instinct, you knew neither of you really regretted a damn thing.

[euthymiaaa]

— ways to express "i miss you" ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

looping gold rush by taytay while making this, enjoy!

"not even the power of gods would be able to separate me from you once you're in my arms"

"it's so cruel, almost torturous how the time gets slower when you're not with me"

"i yearn to be by your side right now"

"saying i miss you isn't even sufficient to convey how much i long for you"

"you've been consistently in my dreams"

"usually my ego is too inflated to admit this, but i'll accept defeat this one time... i miss you"

"tell me what have you been up to lately"

"this song has the same vibes as you, i can't stop repeating it"

"everytime i walk past that spot, i can't help but be reminded of the memories we made there"

"would it be embarassing to say that i hoped to accidentally bump into you, just to get a glimpse of you?"

"please, you don't have to forgive me, i just need to see you one more time"

[auroracalisto]

day #1: hot cocoa and warm blankets

tangerine x gn!reader, 222 words tw: cussing, alcohol

The blanket around your shoulders is enough to warm you, but as soon as you saw Tangerine stroll into the living room with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, you knew you were done for.

"Here we are, love," he said, carefully bringing them over to you.

You almost immediately smiled, holding your hands out for the mug.

"You didn't have to make me anything," you said.

He scoffed as he handed you the mug. "Oh but you can make me whatever whenever, hm? Let me make the fuckin' hot cocoa, yeah?"

You smiled nonetheless, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips, his mustache tickling your skin.

"Drink your cocoa," he said. "We're going to bother Lemon later."

"What's the drink for then?" you asked, cuddling up beside of your boyfriend, still under the warm blanket. "Energy?"

He snorted softly, resting his head on yours for a moment. "Mine's spiked."

"Who said I didn't want spiked hot chocolate?"

"Ah, fuck off, Y/n," he scoffed. "Vodka's in the cabinet if you want it."

"Nah, not getting up," you simply said.

"You're a pain in my arse," he said, sipping at his still steaming hot cocoa. He cursed softly as it burned his tongue, but it didn't stop him. "Give me some of that blanket, yeah? It's fuckin' freezing in here."

[iristhemuse]

Journalers..HOW DO YOU PEOPLE DO IT???

No really , like, how do you make your life so interesting you can say a different thing that happened every single day??Like do you guys just randomly have the most incredibly exciting life ??Cuz when i journal it's always the same 3 things that happen every single day, how do you people manage to idk go out every other day , buy a ton of cool but kinda useless stuff just for the pretty of it?? :""l

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 76

Tim has no idea whether to laugh or cry. Bruce sends him away from Gotham to stay safe from Red Hood, yet who is standing there, in the Titan Tower, but the man himself. And if he was attacking or something then fine, he could deal with it. But no, the man is standing there, in the kitchen, cooking like it’s an everyday thing. Like sure he’s cooking angrily and Tim swears he can see some sort of eye glow in the helmet, but it’s not like he’s actually threatening any of them?? The literal crime lord has been hissing about them not having any food and being out of medical supplies and who decided to leave a bunch of teens alone to take care of themselves. Which. Rude, he’s been taking care of himself for years, and both Raven and Beast Boy have too! What type of scheme is this?!

Jason was going to go through with his attack on the Tower, he really was. But seriously, they didn’t even have any medical supplies, their cupboards were practically empty of food, and they didn’t even have any cleaning supplies. For fuck’s sake he’d gotten in so easily and it was a giant tower shaped like a T- everyone knew where it was! Honestly it’s not his fault the pit rage went from being pissed to the literal child- which uh, huh he’ll have to freak out about that later- to raging about how he took better care of the alley kids than the heroes were taking care of their kids so guess whose going to have to fucking step up! 

[mcflymemes]

BULLET TRAIN (2022) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

if you mention thomas the tank engine one more time, i'm gonna shoot you in the fucking face.

would you describe me as someone who lives in perpetual anxiety?

well, you also have a shoot-able face.

you never know what horrible fate your bad luck has saved you from.

thank you for taking the job on such short notice.

you are getting the new and improved me.

i'm less reactive to situations, i'm more accepting of people's shortcomings.

you put peace out in the world, you get peace back.

i'm not even trying to kill people and someone dies.

i could live here. i like the atmosphere, the people are considerate.

i know i'm being judgmental. i need to work on that.

this train is bound for kyoto.

i'm gonna assume you didn't take the gun?

you know, i'm thinking of starting my own agency.

what am i snatching and/or grabbing?

shit, i think i dropped my ticket.

you're bleeding.

who the fuck did i kill?

i think they'll notice the childish code names first.

when was the last time you ate a lemon meringue pie?

there's always a catch.

you idiots work for my father?

you ever watch thomas the tank engine? everything i learned about people i learned from thomas.

i want to strangle you now.

why do you always bring swords?

that wasn't our fault.

hey, listen, i'm just gonna get off at the next stop.

where's the briefcase?

he doesn't need a reason to kill people like you.

you're going to want to hear the whole story, or you'll be very, very sorry.

why do i even bother forwarding you the briefings?

no one really knows the truth.

we are... fucked.

find me the son of a bitch who did this.

can we just take a time out here? talk this out?

why does that sound so familiar?

the guy who stabbed me. i spilled wine on his suit.

one of them is walking towards me right now.

why are we whispering?

your orders were to stay on the train.

can i please do my job now?

shove that fucking hat up your fucking asshole.

there's a gun underneath this table pointed right at you.

i'm just fucking with you.

real quick... every day is a fucking headache with you, innit?

you're alive, i'm alive, everyone's happy.

i just want to get off this train, go see a zen garden and some shit, you know?

there's another body here.

this guy's like criss fucking angel. he pops up everywhere.

unlike you, i'm a professional.

you shoot first and come up with the answers later.

are you hiding in a bathroom?

i knew my luck would rub off on you.

you're really proud of yourself, aren't you?

for what it's worth, you seem like a right fucking asshole and i'm glad you're gonna fucking die with me.

you proved you're smarter than everyone.

am i dreaming?

i don't know how to use a gun.

i'm glad you enjoyed the performance.

i'm mansplaining. i'm mansplaining again.

you want a blanket? you want me to hold your hand?

you have been lying to me, my friend.

i never forget a face.

i'm so happy to see you. please help me.

make sure you do something that brings you peace, 'cause everything else is a pain in the ass.

fate for me is just another word for bad luck.

why are you motherfuckers using metaphors?

i'm gonna buy us some time.

i built myself up from the nothing you gave me.

i came here to kill you.

oh shit. something's happening.

i'm sorry i shot you twice.

we're almost there. you just need to get up.

what's happening to your face? are you crying?