#I'm still shocked it didn't happen right off the bat

[imwritesometimes]

the most shocking part of the drones over jersey story that's developing is that no one has shot them down? I read 'mysterious drones over new jersey' and expected the next story to be abt a gang of ppl in a backyard shotgun blasting one from the sky?

[luveline]

I'm in an angsty mood.. and I love love love Spencer x bombshell!reader.

maybe she gets hurt somehow (maybe like an unsub or something) but refuses to get checked out

ty for requesting!! sry this isn't super angsty 

cw criminal minds typical gun violence

Blood is a strange thing. It can run quickly or slow, feel tepid or burning hot. It's warm and uncomfortable as it slinks down the curve of your shoulder to the very tip of your index finger, dark as coal pitch in the poor lightning. 

The gunfight is promptly ended, so quickly that no one even knows you've been hit. Morgan throws himself at one unsub and the other is shot in the thigh. Your ears ring, a gun firing too close to your head, clearly. 

In all the hubbub, nobody notices you're hurt. 

You'd like to keep it that way. 

It's not that you believe you're infallible, nor that the others believe it either, but in the grand scheme of things it is a very small cut that you can attend to in your hotel room alone with a butterfly stitch or even a roll of bandages. There's no way it requires real stitches, and no way you're gonna sit in the back of an ambulance for the next hour. 

Your jacket is black. The wound clots itself while you're in the SUV —you choose a window where your arm faces away from everyone and you manage it. And truthfully… you would like the others to think you're smarter than getting hit by a stray bullet. After everything that's happened lately, you've reason to build yourself up. Let the others hold you in some prestige again. 

It works for a time. You get back to the hotel, and everyone says goodnight. Your room is clean and waiting for your return. 

You'd collapse into bed if it didn't mean you'd leave a bloody line on the linens. You shed your ruined jacket and throw it in the trash. Your shirt is split where the bullet nicked you, and that comes off next. The wound begins bleeding sluggishly at the agitation but doesn't erupt, and stays strong as you wipe the skin clean around it. Your fingers mar with copper stain, the face cloth you've sacrificed turning an ugly brown, but eventually you've cleaned the skin enough to see the damage. 

It's deep but small. A nick. 

The issue is your lack of bandages. It's a hotel room, a small one. There's no first aid kit and your go bag is sorely lacking. Which means… 

You have to go bat your eyelids at someone, and if you're being honest, you only ever want to do that to one Dr. Spencer Reid. 

He's not expecting you, clearly. You weren't expecting it either. "Hey," he says, rubbing his eyes, his pyjama pants flush to the floor. 

"You were sleeping? I'm sorry." 

"Don't be sorry, are you kidding me?" He opens the door wider to encourage you in, turning away from you as he murmurs, "S'like my dream." 

He must be very tired. You beam like a fool and follow him inside. "I had a dream like this once, too. Same kind of dream, do you think?" 

"Knowing you, probably." He's growing more comfortable with you, but he's still clearly a little flustered to be this suddenly presented with you, wrapping himself up in a cardigan hanging over the single sad chair. "What's up?" 

"I'm glad you asked." You take your uninjured arm out of your coat, and then the other. You know what you're doing, laughing softly as his eyes turn to dark dimes in an otherwise pale face. "I need your help with something, Spence." 

"Uh–" He stammers, looking you up and down with shock. "Um, I–" He licks his lips quickly. "Okay." 

You kind of hate that you aren't there to seduce him for a split second. Too bad your arm has started to throb. "I need a bandaid," you say, turning your arm into his line of sight. "Help me out?" 

—

"I know something you don't know," Morgan sing-songs. Emily sips her coffee, mildly interested by her friend's taunting. She doesn't give him any feeding, waiting, and sure enough he cracks. "What, you don't want to know?" 

"You want to tell me, right?" 

"Mm, no. I'll tell Penelope." 

"Fine! Alright, what is it?" She breaks, putting her coffee down on the little table in front of her. They're sitting in the hotel lobby waiting for Hotch and the others to collect their things. The jet awaits, as do a few hours in the air before she gets to sleep in her own bed again. 

"I saw–" Morgan laughs. "This is too good. I saw a certain bombshell visiting Reid last night. After hours."

Emily's heart kicks in. "No way!" she gasps. "I mean, I know there's something between them, we all know that, but– his room, seriously?" 

"He didn't even question her. She knocked, he answered, she went inside." 

"What were you doing up?" 

"That's my business," Morgan says. 

Emily leans forward to gossip. This is insane. Sure, you flirt with Spencer relentlessly, and sure, he blushes like he loves it the majority of the time, he even manages to get you back, but you're sleeping together? "This is so scandalous," she whispers. 

Her job is hard, but God does Emily love her team. She's genuinely happy for you both, but seriously! She giggles to herself at the drama of it all, and Morgan looks like he might say more, but then he looks behind her and stops. 

Emily turns. You and Spencer are walking out of the elevator together, and while you aren't looking more coupled than usual, Spencer's acting unusually. "You're sure you're okay?" he asks, hushed but carrying in the relatively quiet lobby. 

"I promise I'm okay, Spence." Your voice drops. "It's our secret, okay?" 

"Sure, but–" He takes your hand, there, where everyone can see, the love in the line of his shoulders clear to anyone who might be watching, which Emily and Morgan very much are. "Can I look at it again?" 

Morgan laughs into his hand, hiding it with a cough too late. Emily kicks his leg and he looks admonished, but it doesn't convince you where you look up from your conversation, the same surprise written in your features as Emily herself feels while Spencer continues, "You need to let me take care of you," he says, practically pleading. 

"Spencer," you say, looking Emily straight in the eye, "you took care of me just fine last night." 

She gawps. 

Spencer whispers in response to your lowered tone, making his answer partially inaudible, "It was my first…" He shakes his head. "I've never…  and I know you said it didn't hurt that much but… go see a doctor–" 

You stop him with an affectionate smile. "You could never hurt me, handsome. Do I look like I'm in pain?" 

"No." Spencer drops your hand. "If you're sure. Let me go get you a drink, okay? Go sit down." 

"Yes sir." 

Nothing about you says anything different to usual as you sit on the lobby chair next to Morgan's, beside your worn hoodie. You fiddle with a fraying sleeve as you kick one leg over the other, giving your friends a pleased smile. "Morning," you say lightly. 

Emily genuinely doesn't know what to say. Her mouth hangs slightly ajar. "I…" 

"You're shameless," Morgan says with a laugh. 

"Look," you say, shrugging though the action makes you wince, "I could tell you the truth and you wouldn't believe me." 

"Sure we wouldn't. Reid looks like a lost puppy right now." 

Spencer stands anxiously by the coffee machine across the way, his gaze locked solidly on you where you sit. You throw him a smile and he looks away. 

"I don't deserve him," you say softly. 

Spencer carries your bag for you all the way to the BAU. Emily doesn't think it's a question of deserving, though you do, only an example of Spencer's big heart. And, you know, post hookup appreciation, or something. 

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 9

(Submitted fan-art of Jade in the monster AU. All credit goes to artist who requested to remain anonymous)

Warnings; yandere, platonic and romantic yanderes, multiple yandere characters, my monster AU, tears, hurt/comfort, blood, injury, furious yanderes, forgiveness, Unicorn, Kelpie, Faun, Selkie, Bakeneko, Dragon, Cervitaur, Vampire Bat, Raiju, Gnoll, Crow,

~~~~~~~~

One of the first things you noticed as you slowly came back to yourself was that it was fairly bright where you lay, shadows occasionally flicking over your vision before the light returned. The next thing that came to your attention was the soft sound of crying. No, soft was not the right word. This was sobbing, heavy and heartbroken.

"Please, don't say she's dead. Please. I'll do anything. Please!"

You recognized the voice somewhat, not overly familiar as to be able to place it upon first waking, but you did know it was a voice you have heard before. Another voice tried to speak, but you couldn't hear it over the sobbing and almost nonsensical apologies mixed with pleads. Somewhere in your mind you recognized that you had to fully wake at some point, but your limbs felt heavy and almost immoveable.

"I'll do anything... Just, please... Please bring her back..."

As your eyes slowly slid opened, you were looking up at a familiar face stained with countless tears. He didn't look the way he usually did, the corners of his mouth still red and raw with the way they had been torn to accommodate the fangs he previously had. His golden crown had been knocked off of his head and his golden horn had a dark black spider-web crack near the tip.

"Riddle, she was already wounded before she got hit with a direct blast of magic. Humans don't have magic and their bodies can't take that kind of strain-"

"I won't be the one to kill the last Human! I can't be... I can't be the one to have killed her..."

Your dominant hand slowly lifted, reaching up to that tear streaked face and resting against his puffy cheeks. The brush of your hand on his face made his eyes fly open with shock as he stared down at you.

"Riddle," your throat felt scratchy and dry, "why are you crying?"

His tears began anew but this time in a mixture of relief and joy as he held your hand to his chest. Your head turned slowly to look around you and you realized you were laying in the Heartslabuyl garden. It looked like very little time had passed since that last magical attack had hit the stunned and overblotted Riddle.

"You're okay! I'm so sorry, (Y/n), I should have been the only one to never hurt you, but instead I overblotted and almost killed you.... Your arm, it... Don't move, okay? Just stay still..."

You vaguely registered what he was talking about as your head slowly turned towards your arm. The axe no longer dug into it but you were very clearly still wounded as Trey kneeled next to you, using magic to staunch the bleeding. It was surprising to you to see the Kelpie, his side equally wounded but somewhat wrapped with what you could only assume was kelp. A faint green tint to the usually white fur was certainly a curious concept as you had honestly assumed he was just a white horse called a Kelpie.

The three of you were on the ground and certainly looked like you had been through Hell and back. While you contemplated what had happened you noticed the sound of footsteps running towards you. You didn't have much time to wonder who was running before a familiar face entered your sight, his blue hair ruffled and light blue eyes wide with stress as he was looking over his shoulder.

"They're over here! Hurry! She's really hurt!"

Deuce was stressed as he waved over those you assumed were there to help you, the sheer worry in the Faun's tone almost made you worry. You were actually feeling quite alright despite the injury and you vaguely wondered if it had anything to do with the magic Trey was using.

"Professor Divus, quickly! I can only use 'Paint the Roses' to keep the pain at bay for a little bit longer before I run out of magic."

The familiar and extremely concerned face of Professor Divus came into view as Deuce moved away to give him space to work. He easily took over with his magic and gave Trey a moment to rest after the battle. Even as Divus kneeled quickly at your side Riddle refused to let go of your hand.

"My poor pup..."

Divus cooed at you gently as he summoned several tinctures and tonics, setting them up quickly by your side. Trey's magic faded away as the Kelpie held his side, now turning his attention to his own wounds and trying to treat them. Without the soothing impact of Trey's magic, you began to feel the full brunt of the pain in your arm. It was agony.

Pain shot up and down your arm as if it had been cleaved in two and you couldn't bring yourself to actually assess the damage given it had been deeply injured by the large Axe. As tears began to form in your eyes, Riddle only seemed to become more distressed. He quickly tried to soothe you, petting your face and arm as if that would stop the pain you felt burning inside of you. More tears formed and Riddle only seemed to become more distressed as he tried to keep you calm despite what had happened.

"Where's Grim? Where's- Where's my boy? Where is My Grim?"

Your voice hitched and whimpered as your emotions began to run wild, trying to look around to find your faithful companion. The longer it took to find him, the more you struggled to move and even tried to stand so you could locate the soft creature.

"He's right here, Human, it's okay. Your Grim is right here."

You almost felt like you had been drugged as you saw your soft companion seemed to be floating over to you. He was clearly wriggling in whatever held him up, reaching out his little paws to you and even trying to flap his little ruined wings to get to your side faster. As Grim was set down next to you, he scampered directly to your side and cuddled against your body. The little critter held your arm with his paws and mewled as he pressed his little body against you as if trying to let you know he was still there and he seemed to be crying.

"Don't die. Please don't die... I have no one else who cares... I- I don't have anywhere else..!"

You tried to move your hand to pet the little creatures, but found yourself unable to pull away from Riddle. The Unicorn in question refused to let go of your hand, still pressing it against his face and muttering apologies.

"You're still terrible at making friends, Riddle."

An almost amused voice spoke now and the space where Grim had been floating seemed to ripple and form as a cat-boy dressed in all white appeared. He had pink hair with faint teal stripes throughout, golden eyes, and two cat ears atop his head. Lazily waving behind him was a tail that split two-thirds of the way down into two separate ends. You had no idea who this was.

"Leave me alone, Che'nya..."

"That's no way to greet an old friend who just saw you turn Feral and who saved your precious 'King of Hearts' from your magical temper-tantrum. You almost singed my uniform."

"What?"

"What, did you honestly think she would have survived a blast like that? That was enough magic to crack your horn."

Divus didn't seem to take note or notice the conversation between the newcomer and Riddle as he moved to try and lift your body to sit up. The newcomer was quick to move behind you, helping the Selkie sit you up and lean you against the stranger's chest. The sound of a bottle being uncorked drew your gaze to Divus as he held the potion to your lips, letting you drink it down at your own pace instead of forcing you to drink it. The moment the first bit of the potion settled in your stomach, you began to feel significantly less pain from your arm.

"Aww, aren't you just adorable? I did want to stop by and meet you when I saw Cater's selfie with you on Magicam, but I didn't think all this would happen when I did. I know we Bakeneko are often considered to be bad luck, but this is just ridiculous."

His smile curved up at the corners making a cheshire grin that reminded you quite a lot of cats from your world and even of Grim who had now moved himself to your stomach. The little cat lay with his chin on your stomach and his torn little ears drooping as he watched you with those big blue eyes. It felt wrong to see him so sad when he had been a fairly positive influence on your life and always seemed to make you smile when you got too deep into thought. Still, between the two cats- the one on your stomach and the one behind you- you began to feel a little more at peace despite the situation.

"The name's Che'nya. I'm a Bakeneko, and you are a Human~ didn't think I would be saving your life today, but I will happily take a plate of Trey's strawberry tarts as a thank you gift."

"You're welcome to them, Che'nya. You know, you don't have to show up to our unbirthday parties just to get some of the tarts, right?"

"Yeah, well, you Night Raven boys don't really like us Sword Academy types. Wow, Riddle really almost chopped you in half, Trey."

"It isn't that bad or that deep..."

As Trey talked to Che'nya, Divus had gotten started on your arm, which you could now see thanks to being propped up against the grinning cat-man. The axe had done serious damage and you vaguely worried what would happen to the limb, but to your surprise it almost looked like it was slowly stitching itself back together with every tonic added to it. Part of you was morbidly fascinated by the injury, but another part of you didn't really want to look given the grisly appearance.

It was while you were observing your arm that dark clouds began to form overhead, rolling and growling with the low sound of thunder. The sound made everyone look up and Divus cast a nervous glance towards Riddle. Riddle just continued to mumble and hold your hand, almost as if here were in some kind of trance.

"Th-thunder? Why here? Why now?"

Grim mewled, curling up tighter on your stomach and even moving to try and slide under your uniform jacket to shield from the approaching storm. In your desire to comfort him, you actually managed to remove your hand from Riddle's grasp. In response, the Unicorn let out a stressed noise and tried to catch your hand once more so he could keep holding it for his own comfort.

"Who dares harm my hoard?"

The voice was a low rumble of menace and rage and it seemed to carry over the entire dorm as students- who had been trying to clean up the now destroyed garden- all began to cower. Some even fled to the interior of the dorm.

"I think that's my cue to leave. Sorry, Human, I'm not keen to be toasted by a Dragon today. Remember you owe me tarts for saving you."

The cat-man behind you quickly faded out of view, the support of his chest also leaving from behind you. Divus was quick to take the place of the Che'nya, letting you lean on his broad chest as he subconsciously moved part of his fur over you, shielding your wound from the wind which had begun to pick up. Shadows blotted out the sun and green lightning began to arch from cloud to cloud.

"The perpetrator will pay dearly for this sleight."

You somewhat recognized the voice, though it was dipped in more venom and rage than you had heard before. From the entrance to the garden walked a furious Malleus Draconia, flanked on either side by his faithful guards. Lilia was perched on Silver's back and seemed to be searching for something as he glanced around the ruined garden. His wings spread, taking one mighty gust to lift him up into the air as he coasted on leathery wings to where you lay.

"(Y/n)," the Bat called as he landed, moving past Riddle and almost shoving the distraught Unicorn to the side as he took his place next to your uninjured arm, "we were just about to come look for you when your collar sent out a distress call."

You hummed, vaguely thinking about the loose collar- affixed to you by that damned Crow- that sat around your neck, wondering who else it contacted. Lilia glanced over your body and frowned deeply when he noticed your mangled arm, Divus still attempting to shield it from the debris being thrown around from the wind.

"Malleus, calm. You can be as angry as you wish, but your temper is causing more harm to (Y/n). We can't treat her wounds if you insist on creating a storm."

Malleus, Sebek, and Silver were quick to join you, almost completely disregarding the equally injured Kelpie and the upset Unicorn that caused all this fuss. The wind calmed significantly, but the thunder overhead was just as loud and almost seemed to be happening more frequently. Malleus' eyes smouldered with rage, but softened to concern as he took in your current state and your wounded arm.

"Crewel, what is your assessment?"

"It's badly damaged. I do think we can fix it with consistent care, but it will have to be wrapped and carefully monitored. We should consider ourselves lucky he did not sever the limb."

"Tell me who did this and I will see that his punishment is swift."

You spoke now, still resting a hand over Grim who had successfully made it under your uniform jacket.

"Not now... Malleus... please?"

"No. Even if you ask, I cannot forgive such an act so easily. The blot levels in the air are nothing short of someone going Feral and they need to be dealt with accordingly."

Even as you tried to argue, Malleus was not keen to listen. Lilia moved you so Divus could return to his work on your arm, letting you instead lay against the smaller Bat who wrapped a wing around your uninjured side in a kind of hug. Were it not for the odd headspace you were in thanks to Divus' potion, you would have laughed at the way you were moved from person to person in such a short time.

It was odd to you to not feel any pain seeing as your arm was still quite injured, but that must have been the whole purpose of the potion. Leave it to the Selkie to master a pain-relieving potion he would only use on the Human he considered to be his pup. The Selkie in question finished wrapping your arm, taking a moment to check over you one more time before moving onto Trey.

"I'm the one who hurt her."

The almost sorrowful voice of Riddle spoke now. His eyes were red from crying and he looked near despondent as he hung his head in shame, refusing to move from where Lilia had shoved him. It vaguely interested you to know the little Bat was much stronger than he looked, but you vaguely recalled shoving the Unicorn to the ground as well though those memories were more than a little hazy as to the how and why of the matter.

"I'm the one who hurt Trey. I'm the one who overblotted and went Feral. All of this is my fault... and I accept whatever punishment you deem fit, Malleus."

"You- the Unicorn that was so enamored with my Human he demanded she be taken from my care- did all of this?"

Malleus made a wide gesture to the ruined garden, his eyes glinting poisonously at the clearly grief stricken Unicorn. Riddle just let his head fall lower, the tears resuming their path down his flushed cheeks. He felt like he deserved whatever painful retribution Malleus decided on and he would accept it one hundred times over to repent for his abominable actions.

"Malleus, please-"

You tried again, cutting off with a slight wince as the vague sensation of pain stopped you from sitting up. Though that potion did away with much of the agony you felt, there was still a lingering pain in your body any time you tried to move it.

"No, (Y/n), I deserve this and worse for what I've done to you, to Trey, and even to Grim. I cannot be forgiven for such a crime. I deserve to be beheaded."

"Well I don't want you to be beheaded."

"Please-"

"No. You're damn right you fucked up. You thought you were the best choice and that you knew what was best for me even though I am the only one who could possibly know what is best for me. You messed up. But no one is dead, right?"

The Unicorn refused to meet your gaze, the potion doing more than just removing your pain as it also seemed to remove your filter.

"... No one died, but I almost killed everyone and even Grim. If you hadn't stopped me, I would have-"

"Wait," Sebek spoke now, his voice thick with confusion, "(Y/n) stopped you? How did she possibly do that?"

"I don't know how she did it," Riddle shook his head, "but she threw me back onto the ground and blocked my axe with her own arm. I didn't even see it was her until I was getting back up and saw what I had done."

During this, Malleus was carefully inspecting your injured arm. He turned it gently and you even saw his forked tongue flash out from time to time past his lips, gathering the scent of the bandages and wound. The storm somewhat quieted as he explored your injury, humming a soft lilt that was oddly soothing despite coming from the large reptilian man.

"I warned all of you that first day just what Humans in extreme distress are capable of. You threatened the life of someone she considers to be her family, she retaliated. You're actually lucky she was injured and didn't turn that axe on you. I have seen the kind of strength a distressed Human posseses when defending family. I have seen a dead woman walking who refused to go down because her family needed her. I have seen Human men missing limbs still slaughter their betters to give their family a chance at living. Humans are weak, but never underestimate the sheer strength of will a Human has to defend their family."

Lilia hummed, resting his chin on your shoulder as he spoke. As Malleus placed your arm over your stomach, Lilia's other wing wrapped around you to fully embrace you in the warmth. Grim crawled out of your jacket, purring as he gently bumped his head against your chin.

"My Hooman is my family too. I don't want anyone hurting her again."

"Nor do we. It is not a good thing she had to use such strength, it can be harmful to exert that much force on muscles not made to perform such acts."

You were much more comfortable in the warm wings of the Bat but you were still worried for Riddle because of Malleus' threatening aura. The Dragon was actually much calmer now though he was still furious someone dare to harm a member of his hoard. As a Dragon, it is his instinctual duty to protect his hoard from danger and he would not allow such acts to go unpunished.

"Rosehearts," the low growl sent shivers down your spine, "after further consideration of your own remorse and the pleas of my child of man, I have decided your penance. You shall not be permitted to any time alone with her and whatever time you do spend in her presence must be monitored by another Housewarden until it is clear you will not overblot again."

"But I deserve so much worse for-"

"I don't recall telling you that you had any say in what I deem as appropriate punishment."

Riddle quieted himself with a nod of submission, looking away from the intense eyes of the Dragon. You had genuinely expected Malleus to be angrier, but apparently he held your opinion in rather high regard as he decided to not slay the Unicorn for his actions. Maybe the Dragon did see you as more than a pet.

"Furthermore, the next time it is Heartslabuyl's turn to guard her, you will be forfeiting that honor to Diasomnia until you have proven to be in control of yourself."

"But I- okay. I understand..."

It was then you decided to speak up, still feeling more than a little loopy and cozy thanks to the tandem potion and wing-hug.

"For what it's worth, Riddle, I don't forgive you, but I don't think I hate you either. Try to hurt Grim again and I will hate you, but I don't hate you right now."

~•§•~

"I hate him so much right now..."

You frowned deeply as you whined, holding your arm and staring at the kitchen. You could try to make something with one arm, but it was going to be difficult. There was little chance you were going to let Lilia cook as Silver had near begged to be spared such a fate, so you had to figure something out. Part of you deeply resented the many ruined pastries as you had been so excited to try them when you saw them sitting with such organized disorder on the table.

"What a waste of good food."

You continued muttering angrily as you moved around the kitchen trying to gather ingredients. The general plan was to make something simple and quick so you could rest your arm- per Professor Divus' strict instructions- but feeding seven was a lot of work. Four portions for your four guards, one for you, one for Grim, and one for the inevitable return of the Gnoll Ruggie. He was likely camped out somewhere near your dorm at the moment, just waiting for that good smell to bring him in.

Lilia sat nearby, petting a now content and very relaxed Grim who was curled up next to the Bat. He had offered to cook only once and now let you continue the process as you insisted and he decided not to interfere further. Sebek was trying to be helpful and wound up doing far too much, grabbing the pots and pans from you any time you tried to lift one and you were starting to become irate. A dull throbbing ache in your arm only took even more from your quickly thinning patience.

It was then a gentle knock came at that side kitchen door and you nearly screamed in rage from yet another uninvited guest. Lilia was quick to answer and you were caught off guard by the voices you heard.

"It is only fair the remaining tarts left in the kitchen come here. Besides, she needs to cook her meals but can only use one arm, I'm not great beyond the bakery, but I can still help in the kitchen."

"It is my duty as the one who caused the harm to rectify my mistake or at least help where I can. I understand if I should be turned away."

You walked over to the doorway behind Lilia, surprised to see Riddle and Trey standing there. Now that you were lucid and not in a magic induced stupor, you were actually able to take in the full brevity of their injuries.

Trey's side was wrapped up in a bandage but he seemed to be in good spirits despite it all. That green you thought you saw in his coat was gone and he was back to that immaculate white. He seemed to be gingering a leg but still stood holding a covered tray.

Riddle was back in his dorm clothes, crown and all, despite looking much worse for wear. His horn was now shorter than before, the cracked point having been filed down to the non-cracked section and the cuts along the corners of his mouth were bandaged. There were still sections of his hair and tail that looked like they had been leeched of color, an almost black tinted gray from his time overblotted. The gold of his hooves and horn had lost some of their shine.

"Riddle, you need to rest. Being up and about won't help."

"But I need-"

"You need to lay down somewhere."

"I can't. Not when you and Trey are up and working."

"Come in, the both of you."

You sighed as the two trotted their way into the dorm, Trey having to duck to get through the door. He set the tray down and turned to smile at you as he rolled up his sleeves, ready to get to work helping you in the kitchen. Honestly, you could have kissed him in that moment for the absolute relief you felt at having another pair of hands in the kitchen. Taking a quick look at what you already gathered, a quick idea came to you that involved much less work for you and a good way to utilize Trey's bakery skills in the process.

"Ever had a meat pie? Kind of like making a fruit pie but savory. I can get the filling together if you can make the crusts and tops for the individual meat pies, just make sure to use less sugar. I'm sure there are tins around here somewhere."

"I can absolutely do that. How many am I making?"

"Well, there's going to be ten of us if the evening plays out the way I think it will."

"How do you figure?"

"There's usually one or two extra visitors during meals here so may as well make extra. If not, I can always have more later."

"Fair enough."

You already had mostly gathered up what you would need to make a decent filling for these pies, so only a few things extra needed to be grabbed. Clearly, you were now in a much better mood thanks to having someone to help who wouldn't burn down the kitchen. It was as you were contemplating cutting the vegetables that Silver quietly stepped in, dicing the vegetables and meat into fine cubes that would go well in the dish. There was very little you actually had to do other than get the rest put together and soon the delicious aroma of the baking pies could be smelled through the entire dorm.

Riddle had tried several times to help, but you made Sebek bring in one of the oversized couches from the main dorm common-area. You had recalled seeing the furniture and wondering just what would need a couch so large. Now that answer was quite obvious as Riddle lay on the couch, almost immediately passing out once he got comfortable. Silver picked up the blanket that he kept across his back, laying it over the exhausted Sophomore and let him sleep.

As the aroma of the pies got stronger, the inevitable whining and scratching came from that side door. Ruggie was back and he was seeking more food to feast upon, ever hungry and yapping in excitement at the prospect of another meal. You vaguely considered just trying to cook a bunch of things and having the Gnoll be your taste tester. He certainly wouldn't mind the free food.

"Got it~"

Lilia sang as he hopped down from the counter he claimed as a perch, opening the door for the eager Gnoll. Ruggie followed his nose right to the large oven and his tail began wagging incredibly fast as he snorted against the side of the oven.

"Careful, Ruggie, it's hot. When they're done cooking we have to let them sit for a bit or they could burn you."

"Okay! When? Is it soon? They smell so good, I want one now."

"You can't have one now, but you can lick the bowl if you really want to."

He didn't need any invitation beyond that to begin lazily licking the bowl the filling had been in, eager to get all the food he could. You would have laughed at the way he so happily feasted on the scraps if you weren't so tired. Even as you leaned against the counter, you somewhat considered laying on top of the Unicorn and taking a nap as well.

Somewhere in your thinking another presence made itself known in that you were suddenly grabbed and pulled into a tighter than comfortable hug.

"My little chick, are you okay? How is your arm? Have you been taking care of it? I flew over the second I got back. I was meeting the Royal Sword Academy Headmage when your collar pinged. Divus told me what happened. Where is that damned Unicorn-?"

"Quiet. He's sleeping. I'm not fine- but it could be worse. You will let Riddle sleep- he is exhausted- or you don't get a pie."

"... Pie?"

You frowned as the Headmage thankfully released you, still staying rather close as he examined your injured arm. His feathers were ruffled and it almost looked like he had flown to where you were as soon as he received news of your condition. Somewhere in the back of your mind you wondered how he got in the dorm, but he was the Headmage and odds are had access to all the buildings on campus.

It was then he actually seemed to take a deep breath, humming out curiously and noticing Ruggie who still had his nose close to the door of the oven. Ruggie was not keen to move from his spot but he begrudgingly allowed the Headmage to approach the oven. He took a quick peek inside and seemed to like what he saw as his smile returned and he forgot all about the sleeping Riddle.

"Oh? It has been a while since I last had a good Human-cooked meal... Very well. Since I'm just the vision of kindness, and your forgiveness is nothing short of inspiring, I can forgive Mr. Rosehearts for now. He is clearly still feeling the lasting effects of overblotting but hopefully he will learn from this and avoid such extremes in the future."

You rolled your eyes at the way the Headmage praised himself but you were happy to know Riddle was at least able to keep sleeping. When the pies were ready, you would wake him, but he needed the rest right now. Trey constantly checked on the pies and once they had a good golden crisp, he got them out of the oven. It made you glad Trey was present as he kept the hungry Gnoll at bay until the pies were cool enough to eat without scalding anyone.

"Riddle?"

You were gentle as you woke the Unicorn, he had been sleeping deeply and seemed almost confused when you woke him. The slight snort that came from him made you chuckle somewhat as you offered him the warm meat pie.

"But, I don't deserve-"

"You will eat that pie and shut up about being deserving or I will force feed the entire thing to you."

There was a look in his eyes as if he felt he didn't deserve the nice meal, but his hunger won him over rather quickly as he took several slow bites and savored the meal you and Trey had made.

Ruggie scarfed the food down in seconds and now lay on the tile of the kitchen, his somewhat distended stomach spoke volumes to how content he was as he basked next to the residual warmth of the oven. Grim was quick to join the Gnoll and the two you felt most responsible for in the dorm clearly enjoyed their meal. Even Crowley was making happy cawing noises as he ate the pie.

"I must say, I was curious how these pies would taste, but you were right, (Y/n). They're delicious."

"See, Trey? Even if you're used to making sweets, you can make something savory with those same bakery skills and just a little less sugar."

"I would love to learn to make more, if you would allow my curiosity."

Crowley's wings fluffed out, making both you and the Kelpie pause the conversation to look over at the odd bird-man. He had cleaned his plate and was licking his fork for whatever bit was left on the splines.

"(Y/n), my precious little chick, how would you feel about teaching some culinary classes once your arm heals up?"

[cadencelistic]

okay dookie.. hear me out on this one,I've been cooking this idea in my mind for far too long, please bring it justice.

sooo- reader is on board the tulpar with the crew, they're a happy-go-lucky cheerful individual with an extremely charismatic personality and are jaw-droppingly attractive. ( Glazing ik forgive me )

here comes the twist,just by pure luck or by some coincidence or the other,the crew finds out that the reader was a very very very popular model in the past.

[ they found some of their old MAGAZINES/PORNOS ]

not just any model- playboy/gravure models who used to be incredibly popular and and a hotshot,but left that career in the past to focus on bigger things in space.

How would the crew react? Or behave towards them after finding out about their past? Would they be attracted towards her? Please I need to know you write so well

Uhhhmmm uhmmmmm. . Ookayyyy..... Okay.

Imagine how Curly felt when he found out the new worker, WHO HE DID NOT LOOK UP AND DOWN BECAUSE I KNOW HE'S NOT A PERVERT BECAUSE HES MY HUSBAND YOU DIPSHIT, was a model! Plus, he can see your tits too. I guess, he came back to Earth and was just browsing around a random shop when he found the magazine. Usually, he doesn't even bat an eye at them because let me say this again HE'S NOT A WEIRDO. Not to say that all people who buy revealing girl magazines are weirdos (they are). But he saw your face and was so shocked. Like, wow! He doesn't confront you about it. The first time he saw you after he saw the magazine, Curly stares you up and down with the image of your bare body with a bikini on. Of course, when you're not looking. This only happened a few times before he got used to it. People change, and he doesn't have the right to pry into their personal life. If you do tell him about your old job, he wouldn't be super... Surprised. I can't tell if he'd tell you that he already knew or he'd just act like he didn't. You choose.

JIMMY, might be ecstatic. First time he saw you, pretty face, pretty body, oh he is PLOTTING. I'm sorry, it's the truth. Now, he's found a magazine of you! YOU! Basically naked. When he found that magazine, he fucking stole it. 1. He doesn't want to be known as those guys, 2. In this economy? For a fancy paged excuse of a book? Yeah, no. Sometimes masturbates to it. Jimmy would definitely use it as blackmail if you don't want people finding out about your old job. Might even use it to get into your pants.

Okay so, I've got two perspectives on this for Swansea. First, you're a young model. Maybe he thought you were a pretty face, but it doesn't affect him that much. Pretty girls are everywhere, he doesn't need to get a boner about. When he saw the magazine, he didn't give a shit. Hes too old to care, but if you tell him, he'll say that he already knew.

Second, if you're around the same age and used to be a model in your 20s but wanted to try out a new job. Swansea thought you were quite youthful and pretty for your age (he's jealous), but still doesn't think much of it until he hears your name. Of course, young Swansea, imo, wasn't into magazines as well. But, he definitely knows the names of a few models. Who says his old friends weren't weirdos? Then he just brushes it off like, "Nah, probably a coincidence. Millions and billions of people are living in the universe, there's bound to be someone with the same name". Then when you tell him, he's like... A little shocked... But goes back to work. Thats all.

Daisuke already knows. DON'T TELL ME THAT HE DIDN'T ALREADY KNOW WHEN YOU CAME IN. I have a feeling that he's either really into the news of celebrities (Oh, no! Y/N quits modeling at age __?!???? Outrageous!!!) or his friends told him. Within a few moments, Daisuke is already up to you, asking if youre Y/N. Gets a pic and an autograph, and now he's happy. Yay >3<!!!

Anya, i think would also kind of know a few models. But only the really popular ones. She strikes me as a person who used to daydream of being as pretty as the girls on the cover, but then grew out of it. I don't think shes an insecure person if we're talking about looks. When she sees you, she definitely notices that you're pretty, but won't say much about it. Maybe a compliment, but that's all. Probably won't notice that you're one of the girls on the cover, but when she does, she kinda just... Doesn't say anything. Again, I don't think she thinks it's her business. If you tell her when she already knows, she'll just calmly say that she knew. If she didn't know until then, she'll probably be a little shocked but thats all. Nothing extravagant.

[lazycats-stuff]

May i request a baby bat (preferably male) that's left at home with a babysitter (it was after Alfred's surgery or he could just be sick but he's resting) while everyone is out on missions and the babysitter is completely ignoring the babies cries for food and a diaper change while titus is trying to comfort him (btw i noticed that you write titus as doberman even though he's a great dane? Please don't take offense i didn't know if this was on purpose or not so i just thought I'll point it out!) baby ends up crawling out of his crib, out of the doggy door and into the streets in only a diaper and shorts and of course titus is right behind, every time baby tries to go into traffic titus is gently nudging him away with his snout , every time a random person tries to pick up the baby and take him to the police titus is not having it, until eventually word reaches the batfam about this and they go to investigate and the unbelievable anger they felt after watching the camera footage of inside their house, you can choose what happens to the babysitter but family fluff with the baby please! Sorry if this is long i just heard from other writers that the more details they have the easier it is to write, thank you!

Okay, thank you for pointing it out that Titus is a great dane because, I could swear on anything, that Titus is a Doberman. I'm not sure whether or not I need new glasses or a new brain. And don't worry, I'm not offended, just shocked that I'm that dumb and blind. Either way lets get to writing.

Summary: (Y/N) has to be babysat by somebody outside of the family. It doesn't end well.

Warnings: child neglect, Titus is the best dog, the batfam loosing their minds, again child neglect if anyone is sensitive to that, babysitter is awful.

This GIF is in honor of Titus and I know Titus isn't the same color, but it's too cute.

Bruce was very hesitant to leave his young son with an outsider. He was a baby and Bruce might be protective, but this is his first son who was a baby, so unable to defend himself, so vulnerable. Jason sometimes said a bit stupid, but that they had a sense of who was who.

Whenever he cried, Bruce was the one to calm him down. And (Y/N) could tell when to do help out the family. He still remembers how Lex took him from his arms and Jason was ready to deck him. What did (Y/N do?

Threw up on a very expensive Italian suit. Bruce was apologizing, but with absolutely no sincerity in his voice. Jason took (Y/N) at the time, cooing at the baby, wiping his mouth with a tissue.

Bruce was impressed with how much babies had a sense for people. Maybe that should have been thinking of that when he hired the babysitter. (Y/N) was fine with Bruce, but with the babysitter he got a bit fussy. But Bruce brushed it off, thinking it must be because she is new. But Bruce had no choice. Alfred is recovering and they are swamped with missions.

And it seems that (Y/N) was right about his feeling about this babysitter. After caring for a few hours, (Y/N) was forgotten. Bruce had given the babysitter a very specific schedule on when (Y/N) was supposed to be fed and when he was going to go to sleep.

(Y/N) was crying, because he was hungry. He was squirming in his crib, the diaper heavy due to being unchanged. The only person who seemed to care, well, an animal who seemed to care was Titus, Damian's dog. The Great Dane fell in love with (Y/N) from the moment he has seen him as a newborn.

Everyone was slightly worried, but the Great Dane was great with (Y/N). Always near him, always coming to check on him when he is crying, or just to watch him play. Even when Damian is taking him for a walk or just to play outside, he always has to have (Y/N) watching. So more often then not, Damian is carrying (Y/N) in a baby carrier while in the yard with Titus.

And Titus came to (Y/N)'s room, wondering why his baby brother was crying. He sniffed his hands and gave them a lick to comfort his brother. (Y/N) stopped crying for a second, but he still sniffled. Titus sniffed down at the diaper. He whined a bit from the smell too.

Bruce said that Titus had a superpower when it came to (Y/N)'s diapers. Although just a good sense of smell, Titus alerted everyone when (Y/N)'s diaper needed to be changed. Anyone he could find, he would lead them to (Y/N).

Now (Y/N) was slightly less upset, but still upset. Titus tilted his head when he saw how (Y/N) turned on his stomach and started moving through a small opening. (Y/N) was now crawling out of the room and Titus followed. The babysitter was laughing on the phone, laughing at whatever the friend said.

(Y/N) crawled to the kitchen, stopping for a second. He moved to the back door, crawling through the doggy door. Titus followed without hesitation, walking right behind (Y/N).

Eventually, they have reached the city. Titus was never a fan of it, believe it or not. He preferred the backyard and its quietness. He never liked the smell of it either.

(Y/N) tried to get to the road and Titus was quick to push him away from them. They continued walking and it looked like something out a movie. Maybe a children's cartoon.

And not a good one.

A lady tried to pick (Y/N) up, but Titus made a biting sound at her, not wanting her to take his baby brother. She backed off and (Y/N) continued on his adventure. Well, there was some luck to it. James Gordon aka Jim Gordon was driving by and stopped the car.

He met the family and they were good friends. He recognized Titus and he recognized (Y/N). He stopped the car and got out, moving towards the animal baby duo.

" (Y/N)! What are you doing here champ? " Gordon said, crouching down in front of the baby. Titus bared his teeth, but relaxed when he saw that it was Gordon.

" And what are you doing here Titus? Either way, lets get you both to the station. "

(Y/N) was picked up and Titus waited in front on the passengers side. Gordon opened it and Titus squeezed himself in. Gordon sat back inside and went directly to the station. He needed to change (Y/N)'s diapers and call Bruce Wayne. Something is off.

Bruce was on the way back home, just ready to crash. His kids were with him too and they all wanted to see (Y/N) after being separated for so long. It felt awful. All of a sudden there was a call in the car. Bruce accepted, not even looking at who it was.

" Yes? "

" Hey Bruce, it's Jim. There is some news about your youngest. "

Everyone was alert now.

" What do you mean? "

" He was found wandering the streets. Titus was with him, moving him away from the traffic. Is anyone watching him? "

" Babysitter is supposed to... Why? " Bruce asked, now worried.

" Well, he was in a desperate need of a diaper change and a bottle. He downed a bottle. "

Bruce was speechless. What!?

" Okay, I'm going to the station now, I also have the camera feed on my phone so I can check what the hell happened. " Bruce said, taking his phone out. He unlocked and handed it to Tim next to him.

" Tim, check the footage. I want to know what's happening. " Bruce said, taking a sharp turn.

" Hang on, let me find it. " Tim said, looking for the said footage.

Bruce floored the gas pedal, making sure to be fast as possible. He parked with a screech and everyone got out of the car. Bruce and the others went inside, moving quickly to the offices and they saw Titus and people around him, just petting him, but Gordon was sitting in the chair with (Y/N) on his lap.

" Hey Bruce. " Gordon said, watching the distraught father taking his son into his arms, cooing and swaying him.

" Oh my son, what were you doing in the streets? " Bruce said, kissing his son on the head. Titus went to Damian and Damian gave him scratches and praises.

" Good boy, you followed (Y/N) and made sure he was safe. "

" I have something B. It seems that the babysitter ignored (Y/N). " Tim said and everyone crowded around Tim to see. Everyone in the room looked in shock as they watched the babysitter ignore (Y/N). Titus was there to comfort him at least.

" Oh no. Oh hell no old man. " Jason said, clenching his fists.

" Don't worry mister Todd, we will arrest her. " Gordon said.

" Good. Oh my poor brother. Hand him over. " Jason said, taking (Y/N) into his arms.

" Damian, remind me to buy Titus everything he wants next time we go to the pet shop. " Jason said, kissing his brother's head.

" Will do. Now can we go to the manor to arrest her? " Damian asked, and Gordon agreed.

The babysitter walked out of the manor in cuffs, protesting. Bruce didn't waste his words, he went to his room and laid down on the bed and then laying (Y/N) down on his chest.

The others filed in, laying down to Bruce on both sides. They were comfortable on the Alaskan bed, happy to be near their baby brother.

" Night everyone. " Bruce said.

There were murmurs of good night and all of them could finally fall asleep, with their baby brother near them. Oh and Titus?

That good boy, no, the best boy laid down at the foot of the bed, also guarding the little boy.

[lycheeloving]

a non-platonic yandere!Bruce thought this time, with some multiverse stuff, because that's all I could think about today.

I imagine this is at a point where you've been with him for some time & have mostly gotten used to your situation (having been kidnapped and forced into a relationship with a billionaire who happens to be Batman)

a small allusion to nsfw stuff, minors dni

You're bored, sitting in the bedroom you share with Bruce (who's currently patrolling, so you can't even annoy him for entertainment), so you decide that you at least want a change of scenery, and what better place for that than the batcave? So you take a book, a drink and a blanket with you as you venture down into the cave.

Bruce doesn't like it when you're down there, especially not while he's out, but it doesn't concern him enough to install anything that would keep you from going down there. If you're lucky, this will piss him off just enough to make the inevitable post-patrol sex with him more interesting tonight, so a win-win situation, really! You sit down in his comfy chair in front of his bat-computer, snuggle into your blanket so you don't freeze to death and start reading.

After some time you stand up to stretch and notice Bruce in the reflection on the computer. Weird, you didn't hear the batmobile returning! Well, you must have just been really immersed in the book.

"Bruce? You're back early, I thought you said you'd take longer today because of some Arkham emergency?"

No response.

"Ok, look, I know you don't like it when I'm down here, but I was getting sick of the manor!"

Still no response.

You turn around to look at him more closely, his expression might look like his usual stony facade, but you've spent enough time with him by now to be able to read him a bit and you're pretty sure he looks... confused?

"Hello? Are you ok? Did you hit your head? Did you drive with a head injury?? Wait, no, of course not, the batmobile can drive home all by itself-"

As you say that, you look at where the batmobile should be. should be, because it's not there. You look back at Bruce. Did his batsuit always look like that? You could swear that the ears are usually a bit smaller, and the color is wrong. Huh. You take a step back. "You're.. not Bruce, are you?"

He finally opens up his mouth to explain that he's from a parallel universe, that he and the Bruce from your universe have been helping each other with cases for a while now, he just came here to see if your Bruce was available, but if he's not here right now he's going to leave again. He gestures to a portal in the wall that you missed because from your angle it just looks like the wall of the cave, but when you take a step forward you can see into what looks like the batcave you're in right now but slightly to the left. A bit uncanny.

"You looked confused earlier, did Bruce not tell you about me? Or did you just not expect to see me down here?"

"...I was not aware that he is in a relationship."

"I mean, yeah, I guess if I was him I wouldn't go around telling people I kidnapped someone and keep them locked in my mansion, either. Even if they looked exactly like me, I mean, you never know if they think exactly like you as well. Um. Anyways, it was nice to meet you?" You wave awkwardly while he looks shocked (in his stoic way).

"...Why didn't you try to escape through the portal, then, if you're kept here against your will?"

"Oh, um, my bracelet is designed to shock me as soon as I leave. Like, really painful electric shocks. I'm not trying that again." More shock and guilt on other-Bruce's face.

"I'm sure I could disable it. Come with me."

"...And then what? Bruce will come after me. He'll attack you and be really, really mad at me for running away. Really mad. He said he'd break my legs if I ever tried to run again, I'm not risking that. And he'll keep me chained up in the bedroom for months." You shudder. "I like my walking around the house privileges, thank you very much."

You feel uncomfortable when he doesn't react and instead keeps staring at you. "I think you should leave. Now. ...Please."

He takes a step towards you. "I can keep you safe. I wouldn't feel right, knowing I left you here. Come with me."

You take a step back. "Look, thank you for offering, but I don't think this will end well for either of us. I'm gonna go now."

You turn to leave, but he's faster than you. He grabs your wrist, stopping you from getting away. You squirm in his hold while he inspects your bracelet. He then pulls something out of his utility belt with which he's able to remove the bracelet without it shocking you, throws you over his shoulder and carries you through the portal, not at all bothered by your kicking and scratching. He puts you down and closes the portal behind him. It all happened faster than you could wrap your head around.

"...I think it would be best if you stayed in the manor until I figure out how to resolve this.", he says, an unnerving glint in his eyes.

Did you just get kidnapped by a second Batman? Will he really let you go? You doubt that, somehow. You think you would have preferred to stay with your Batman, at least with him you knew what to expect...

[gothamite-rambler]

Bruce meeting his son Damian pt. 2

Context: After Bruce Wayne has regained his bearings and been dragged to a lounge room at Ra's castle and has been retold that he has a son with Talia, Jason knew and now his in-law is Ra's Al Ghul. (links to the first two parts below).

Bruce, still in his bat suit, rested on the ground in Talia's study trying to remain his usual calm and composed self, but can only repeat a mantra.

Talia: Bruce, my former love, are you feeling better?

Bruce (monotone and stunned): I have a child with Talia. I have a child with Talia. I have a... child with Talia. I have a child with Talia. I have a child with Talia...

Talia: You are being such a drama king, can you not be happy that that our night of passion produced a child.

Bruce (whimpering): Oh God I'm linked to you through a child!

Bruce buried his face on the floor groaning loudly.

Talia (angry): My father was right, you would hate Damian! If you're going to be like this then you won't be around him!

Bruce (clarifying): I do not hate Damian. I hate you. There's a difference. And you are not depriving me of any further time with him!

Talia shook with rage, but chose to not stab him, taking a long sip from her tea to calm herself.

Bruce: I didn't even get the name of Thomas Jr.! Although Damian isn't a bad name. This is not what I needed though, I can't believe I'm a father again.

Talia: Bruce, while I don't care much for your Robins, you raised three kids already! For Ra's sake, you adopted Dick when he was 8!

Bruce: I wasn't secretly his biological father, unaware he existed because the petty mother and her psychotic father refused to inform me of that!

Talia (honest): Well when you word it like that it makes us look bad.

Bruce (calm, but enraged): Talia, how old is Damian again?

Talia (deadpan): He turned eight a few months ago.

Bruce (panicked): That's what I'm FUCKING saying! I missed another birthday, he's been around- Oh my God it just dawned on me he's been around Ra's Al Ghul. Ra is that precious boy's grandfather. Oh… no.

Talia smiled hearing Bruce call their son precious.

Talia: You're stressed and shocked about having a child that I neglected to tell you about, for your own safety as well, but we can co-parent him since you know about him now.

Bruce (V.O.): That's not the point, he is my son you loony tune!

Bruce (outloud): Thank you so much for giving me that option eight years later. I'm not upset I have a son, that's... fine. You are correct about the fact I've raised three kids, working on things with Jason, but yes I'm not new to parenting. I’m having a lot of racing thoughts because the woman I thought I cut off ties with is now linked to me through said innocent child. Oh and the fact you kept him secret for eight years!

Talia (missing the point): Our relationship wasn't that bad. You have to admit we had good times together.

Bruce sat up, bringing his knee to his head and thinking about the good times... Those bad times entered the narrative quickly.

Talia: Bruce, it was for the best I never informed you of Damian’s existence earlier, father would’ve killed you.

Bruce: You refused to tell ME I had a son, because your father who bathes in the pit when he has a cold might’ve killed me? That’s what you’re trying to tell me… you’re telling me that as if I can’t fight for myself!

Talia (hesitantly): I made… what I assumed was the smartest decision.

Bruce: Yeah Kim thought the same thing with J.D. on Scrubs, at least he found out before the baby was born.

Talia: Okay I did not watch much of that crap show, but don’t compare me to that woman, I’m ten times better than her! Plus our night of passion was far different from what they did.

Bruce: No, it was a one night stand. A fun one, I won’t deny that, but one I had planned to be a ONE NIGHT STAND! I'm supposed to be smart, why did I buy those condoms, why did I put one in my wallet?

Talia: You are pissing me off to no end, but slip-ups like this can happen to the best of us. Neither of us expected a condom with the word 'condom' misspelled on it would break so easily.

Bruce: I can't ignore the fact you had him around that man. You let him talk to Damian, be around Damian, probably teach him how to kill. I am burying so much rage at the moment, but it's a thin thread, Talia. It's a thin thread!

Talia rolled her eyes while drinking from her tea cup.

Talia: I'll have you know, my childhood was only filled with normal discipline, he stabbed me in my ankle three times and then stopped. Mostly because I expected those sneak attacks.

Bruce: Talia, I swear to Christ if he has done that to Damian I will murder him three times.

Talia: No... not that I'm aware of.

Talia took another long sip from her cup while glancing away from Bruce.

Bruce (despondent): I've been deprived of that cute boy's eight years of growing up. He could have had a semi-normal childhood. I saw you with the baby too, but I thought nobody would be STUPID enough to have a kid with you. I'm the stupid one.

Talia (smirking): You think he's cute?

Bruce whimpered to signify he meant yes.

Talia: Our DNA worked together well.

Talia giggled, but Bruce wasn't in the mood.

Bruce: You're as delusional as I remember.

Talia: Bruce, get up, sit next to me. Have some tea.

Bruce stood up and sat a good distance from Talia. He removed his cowl and sighed accepting he had a son with Talia, but his worry for his child's safety remained.

Bruce: I'm glad I'm not shooting blanks, the issue is- I mean no offense... kind of do- I did not want a child with you after I realized I can't be with someone like you. You and I have clashing ideals and now we have a child. I have to co-parent with a woman who harassed a Kohl's worker to the point the woman got institutionalized ... and that's the tame shit! What am I going to tell Damian about your entire history?

Talia: Okay first of all, that worker was racist, she had it coming and second, I've made decisions you do not agree with, some that I don't look back on fondly, but for most of Damian's childhood I raised him with the love I barely got from my father. I'm doubting the decision to raise him as an assassin.

Bruce: I can make the final decision there, he's not becoming one.

Talia (chuckling dryly): Guess we'll have to compromise with what Damian wants. To be honest, Bruce I'm not that mad with your overall reaction, but I'm glad the issue isn't our son. Because whether you want to be with me or not, I want you to be a part of his life. Eight years later, yes, but I've known you for a long time and I see now you'll be a great father to him.

Bruce (rubbing his forehead): Freaking reassuring after I missed so much of his life... He's leaving today with me and will never return here again. Yeah, yeah that's a good first step as his father.

Talia: Okay, let's test the co-parenting here. How about you take him to Gotham and spend a few weeks with him so that way he can get to know you more. You're rich, not as much as us, but hopefully he'll be used to your lifestyle.

Bruce (serious): You said that as if he's visiting for vacation and then returning to this kingdom of evilness. He's not returning here! Ever!

Talia: Oh come on, I'm raising him incredibly well.

Bruce: Around Ra's Al Ghul?

Talia: Y- Yes. On his birthday we have him fight assassins and punishments aren't that bad, but last birthday he didn't have to do that I was generous.

Bruce (seething): You had him fight assassins?! What punishments- You got me fucked me, Talia! You got me fucked up! You have me talking like I'm from lower Jersey! I get you find me silly for wearing an awesome batsuit to save the city, but let me make this clear: He's living with me, I am taking... custody of him. I'm getting his stuff, he'll get on my jet and Gotham will be his permanent home! That is my son! Not just yours and damn sure not Ra's! I have a say in my son's life!

Talia (impressed): Okay, I like this energy. He'll want to return here for proper raising, I'm confident in that, but he can spend two or three months with you and then we'll humor him and see who he wants to stay with.

Bruce: Me. Me. He's living with me. I might have him visit- What am I saying?! You can visit him, I won't deprive YOU of being around him. Not Ra because if he hurts him any further, I will BEAT that man to an inch of his life and render him comatose!

Talia (pretending to be ignorant): Yeah, he'll stay for a let's say a year. I'm getting what you're putting down.

Bruce: You're seriously not! Talia look into my eyes, Damian WAYNE will be living with me from here on out. Got it?!

Talia stood up, placing her tea cup on the table.

Talia: Mm-hm, Mm-hm, Mm-hm, we'll see what Damian decides. Aren’t you happy I gave him your last name.

Bruce rubbed his forehead, trying not to cuss Talia out. She wasn't always the most stable person especially when it involved allegiance to her father, but he was resolute in his decision.

Damian would not set foot back in that castle for as long as Bruce lived. Although he accepted there was no point in arguing with Talia.

Talia (standing up): I'll go tell him to pack his things, you're going to have to talk to my father and I'm not sure if you remember this, you blacked out at a certain point, but Jason was fully aware I had the child, kept it secret for this long-term revenge, Damian has visited Gotham to be babysat by him, and he helped raise him for 8 years. He was actually the one who told me a few months ago it was time to let you see him so don't be too hard on the kid. Okay, whew got that off my chest. Damian, let's talk!

Talia scurried out of the room as Bruce stood there, shocked at this new information. He had blocked out that particular part, remembering it now made his face turn red with rage.

Bruce (whispering in rage): He had his reasons. He had his reasons. He had ... his reasons. He ...had his reasons. He had his... reasons. He had me send him that money for three years after I SAVED him and he sat on his information until a few months ago!

Bruce left the tea room in a huff.

Bruce: Jason, let's talk!

"You knew this entire time?"

Bruce find out about Damian

Jason knew the entire time

[familyvideostevie]

stand to gain

did i write this for me? maybe. enjoy anyway <3 you get a raise at work. steve has a tough day. and yet somehow your good news turns it around for him. | fluff, established relationship, being loved wholly and completely, 1.3k

It's a small victory in the grand scheme of things. Life these days is like that -- normal enough that sometimes a seemingly insignificant thing will make your whole day. A rainbow on the way to the grocery store or a perfect leaf on your windshield. Steve washing and folding your favorite shirt or calling you on your lunch break. It doesn't take much to feel like you've got it pretty good.

But maybe this is something you're allowed to be extra happy about: you got a raise at work. You'd been expecting it and practiced your pitch for weeks with Steve and had been waiting for the right time to sit down with your manager. Today ended up being that day and it worked. Better than you'd expected, really. You're feeling pleased with yourself, ready to share your news and maybe celebrate once you get him. You want to see the look on Steve's face when you tell him all of the prep paid off and then some.

You hum as you unlock the door and look for him when you toe off your shoes and plunk your keys into the bowl. He doesn't seem to be on the couch or in the kitchen as far as you can tell but you know he's home as his jacket is hanging on the hook. The entryway smells vaguely of his cologne, so he must have arrived not long before you.

"I'm home," you call.

"Bedroom," Steve yells back. "Thank god you're home," he continues. You set about putting away your bag and getting a snack, trying to be quiet so you can hear his hollering. "I had such a shitty day."

Oh. Your excitement shrinks back into a box in your chest, shoved to the side for later. He had a bad day? Bad days for Steve can mean anything from someone being rude to something really bad actually happening. He's not great at specifying.

"What happened?" you ask.

He grunts. "Just...shit." He finally appears, hair a mess from tugging his sweatshirt over his head. He's already in comfortable clothes and looks ready to go to bed. You can see the tension in the line of his shoulders and the twitch of his jaw. 'Not worth hashing out."

Steve steps into your space like he was made to be there. Arms around your shoulders, chin hooked over your shoulder as he slumps into you. "I'm sorry," you say softly. "That you had a bad day."

You're partners. Partners comfort each other when things are tough, and that's what you're going to do. But there's a part of you that's a bit down now, too, that it isn't the time to share your good news with Steve. It can wait but you really did want to tell him.

"Not your fault," he huffs. He presses his lips to your neck, your cheek, your temple, and then pulls back, hands on your shoulders. The tension has seeped out of him somewhat but he's frowning now.

"What?" you ask.

"Hold on," he says. His hands frame your face and tilt your jaw side to side gently. "You look like..."

"Steve, what?"

"You look like you're excited about something."

You laugh out of shock. "How do you know that? I didn't know I could look like that."

Steve shrugs. His thumbs stroke the skin of your cheeks. "I know all of your expressions," he says. "You get a crease here when you're thinking --" he presses between your brows "-- and a line here when you're holding something in." His pointer finger traces a line at the corner of your mouth. "And when you're trying not to laugh at me you get three tiny creases here --" He presses his thumb to the corner of your eye.

You bat his hand away. "Alright, alright, I get it." He looks pleased with himself. "It's not a big deal."

You circle his wrists with your hands and try to pull away. He likes pasta when he's in a bad mood and you know you've got some tomato sauce leftover. But you can't make anything if he's still holding you.

"Hey," he says, softer than before. His eyes are bright and warm. "Tell me. It'll make me feel less shitty."

You're not sure that's true, but you really do want to tell him. "Okay," you give in. "I got a raise today."

Steve's mouth drops open and he smiles at the same time. You can see all of his teeth before he lunges, wrapping his arms around you and twirling you in a circle right there in the kitchen, your toes brushing the ground.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he cries.

"Steve!" He puts you down and laughs. "No, I'm not kidding." You're both breathing quickly.

"You let me talk about my bullshit day when we could have been talking about how you got a raise! You should have screamed it when you got home!"

He starts to press kisses to every inch of you he can reach. Your forehead, your brow, your nose, your cheeks.

Breathless giggles surge out of you, the excitement you felt all day returning full force now that he's sharing it.

"That's amazing," he says between kisses. "Best shit I've ever heard. I'm so glad and I knew it, that pitch was really fucking good."

Steve kisses you properly once, twice, three times in quick pecks before pulling you in for another hug.

"I'm happy about it," you say into his shoulder.

He sways you in his hold just a little. You press closer to him and breathe him in. His sweatshirt smells a little like him, a little like you. "Are you proud of yourself? I'm really proud of you."

"Yeah," you admit. "I am. I...almost didn't tell you because I didn't want to make you feel like we couldn't commiserate about your bad day.

Steve pulls back. He palms your hip with one hand and cradles your jaw with the other. You lean into the touch.

"Okay," he says. "Hey, listen."

"I'm listening," you tease, but he doesn't laugh.

"That's nice of you but your good news is my good news, yeah? This makes me really happy even if my day sucked," he says. "Because I love you and you being happy makes me happy."

"But you being upset means I can be upset with you," you counter. "We can wallow together."

"Yeah, but we can celebrate together, too. Don't keep good things to yourself because I'm carrying bad ones," he says. Steve isn't always the most verbose guy but when he wants you to understand something he always manages to get his point across in a way that makes you feel incredibly tender.

It's a battle you know you won't win. Steve loves you and that means he wants as much of you as you'll give him, good, bad, and ugly. And you love him, so it's the same in reverse. It's a good problem to have, being loved this much.

"Fine," you allow. He beams.

"So how are we celebrating?"

"I didn't think about that," you say. "I just wanted to tell you."

Steve's expression softens. "Okay, now that's just stupid sweet," he says.

You roll your eyes. "We could order food?"

He snaps his fingers and heads for the phone on the wall. "Amazing idea. Genius. That's the kind of thinking that got you that raise," he says. "Go put on your pjs and I'll order. The usual, right?"

You nod. He looks so happy, receiver in hand as he looks for the phone number in your menu drawer, hair still a riot and feet bare. You love him for being so excited for you. You love him for loving you.

"Steve," you say softly. He doesn't look up.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you." That gets him to look.

"Don't thank me, baby," he says with a smile. "I'm just a trophy boyfriend." You laugh all the way to the bedroom.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

[hidtired]

A Single Punch [Part 2]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Description: The aftermaths to the line up leaves you with serious injury. With most of the group to believe you dead. How will your recovery go at Hilltop? How will people react to seeing you?

2.6k words

Warnings (much angst, injury, near death, depression, recovery, typical walking dead shenanigans) [happy ending… eventually]

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Your POV

The steady hum and rocking of the truck bed is what woke you from unconsciousness. The wind ripping around you. It was hard to breathe. Even more so when you realized that you were next to two bodies, presuming that they used to be your friends. What had happened again? A bat? Line of your family being chosen for death. You were one of those chosen. The thought of "I'm alive." While not necessarily feeling like it. You were alive. Your body moving on it own slapping the back of the truck with your bloody hand. Bloody and very broken if the sharp pain sent threw you didn't tell you anything.

The sharp pain making you groan and rolling into yourself. A wheeze still in your lungs. You felt like you were spinning. The loud bang of the tail gate making you jump. Everything felt wrong something is wrong.

"I can't, please it hurts."

Sasha flinched when you spoke. Believing for a second she dreamt it. But your small whimpering and sobs made her drop closer to you. "Y-your still alive- I don't-" Your face and hair were covered in your own blood. Not knowing the location its coming from. Sasha pulling herself together after the initial shock. She turned to Maggie who stood wobbly and in shock seeing you trying to move and talk. Your speech was becoming incomprehensible now. Sasha slipped off a layer of clothing to hold to your head. She turned back to Maggie again, ''Go get back into the car!" Sasha felt you go still again. She had to move fast. Jumping over the side of the truck closing the tailgate. She was not letting Negan have you to.

Days later...

You opened your eyes groggy and confused. Looking over to see Maggie in a bed herself. You try and move your hand up to remove something blocking your right side of your head. Expect your hand stopped bounded to the bed. Maggie heard you move and slowly approached you, "Shh, your safe." This wasn't your first time awake but it was the first that you were more aware.

"W-wha?" Your speech was slurred. But Maggie saw it in your eyes. For the first time she saw you in them. She sniffled, "Y/n thank goodness. I thought you were..." She shook her head and put a hand to your shoulder. "I'll be right back ok? I need to get the doctor?" You simply tried to look at her face trying to gauge what was wrong. She sped out the room leaving you to stare out after her.

She came rushing back into the room with a man. He was speaking to fast at you but they were questions asking your name and if you knew where you were. The man shined a light in your face. You tried to look away from the light because it hurt. You looked at the man with squinted eyes, "H-errrs-sel?" You looked back to Maggie with a questioning look. Only to get a sad look back. Sasha then came through the door in a haste hearing you were awake again.

"Is she doing any better?" She huffed out of breath. The man you had zero clue about simply looked back to you and sighed. "It looks like the swelling in her brain is reducing. I don't know the extent of the brain damage she will have, but her chances of survival just increased." Maggie sighed with the first bit of good news about you. Tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. She smiled at you. You with having no clue what's going on simply mirrored her back with your own smile. You try and raise your other hand but not feeling it at all you look down to see your arm in a cast and bound close to your chest.

The man who you couldn't place, doctor man, started talking again. "Its only been 2 days, for that much time she is doing better then I could have ever imagined. I think she may have taken most of the blow to her hand. However, head trauma is always unpredictable." They jumped at the sound of your gasp looking at you to see what was wrong. You were just looking at Maggie looking her up and down.

"Ba-baby?!" Maggie moved closer to you and started to try and sooth your worry. "Is fine, the baby and me are ok." You relax back into your sheets. Dr. Carson simply studied you. "I would like someone to be with her at all times now. She could have a stroke or start seizing. She still needs to be bound to the bed for all are safety. If she is still awake in a hour try having her eat or drink." Maggie and Sasha both nodded and looked at each other giving a determined look.

Few hours later you were still awake having to be reminded to 'keep your eyes open' and 'need to stay awake.' You would ask things, try to at least. Most of what you said didn't make sense to anyone but you. The worst was the look on your face remembering about something or someone that was lost along the way. When you were asking about a baby you were meaning Lori and Judith. You knew something with a baby was wrong and that was the only one you could think of until Maggie said that her and her baby was ok that you remembered.

The longer you were awake you would get better minimal but still better. But you began asking for something they couldn't give you.

"Dar-ryl?" They always try to come up with something. 'he is on a run' or 'he is out hunting.' But that didn't stop the want for him. You were frustrated at the broken bits of your brain. You knew Daryl always put those pieces together.

Daryl POV

His cell was cold, dark, and always seemed to have one song playing on loop. It was torture. Not however as much torture then the loss of you was. He never knew the kind of love she gave him. She was a first, and now last. The pain in his shoulder and face from the beating he has gotten were nothing like the one in his heart, his soul. That night replayed over in his head. He thought about how he deserved to have gotten killed not Glenn. He cause Maggie to be a single mother now. He deserved this. Being here.

He thought back to when Rick lost Lori. He didn't understand then. But sure as hell did now.

The door handle started to move, the music cutting off, assuming he was getting the normal moldy bread and dog food. Dwight walked in throwing the food down to the floor. "The sooner you join the sooner this will stop." Daryl all but chuckled, "and what become like you?" Now that pissed Dwight off, striking a nerve. But Daryl lead on more, "I get it. Your doing it for someone else. But I don't have that anymore." Daryl sent a look that could kill. Dwight only studied him and shook his head at him. Throwing two polaroid to the floor, "Someone else doesn't have that anymore either." Before slamming the door shut. The music came on but then changed to a more somber tune.

Daryl hesitated to pick up the pictures before doing so and seeing the images with the smallest light coming from under the door. Yours and Glenn's bodies. His breath hitched looking at it. You the women he loved and a friend who would still be alive with his wife and child if he never existed. He lost it. Sobbing. Broken.

He made a promise to not just you but himself that he was going to do right by you. He still had a mission. By the end of it this place will be burning to ground. Even if he had to go with it.

Maggie POV

After having to deal with a man like Gregory she needed to clear her head before it was her turn to sit with you. Making her way over to were Glenn and Abraham were buried. She was met by Enid staring down to the graves.

''Enid?" She walked over to the young teen and hugged her. Enid sniffled before explaining why she was there, wanted to see if she and the baby were ok. Enid gestured to the two graves. "I didn't know which one was his." Enid the paused, "Why is there only two, where is the third?"

With that Maggie smiled and waved her hands to come follow her. Enid was confused at the action. They stepped into Jesus trailer were they all have taken over at this point. There Enid saw you, she gasped in surprise and disbelief at the sight of you. You jumping at the noise. Breaking your focus from a card game that was to help your memory. Also keeping you distracted. Sasha sitting next you surprised to see Enid, "Are you with the others?" Enid shook her head while approaching your table. "How is this possible..." She sat down across from you. You simply stared back but continued with your cards pointing to one for Sasha to flip. You were struggling with mobility.

Sasha sighed catching the hint and continued flipping cards for you to match. Enid looked at you more closely. Your face was still swollen and was a mix of purples, blues, and yellows. The top to the right of your head had a part of your hair shaved with stitching. You looked pale. Your speech has gotten better but you were just to tired to speak much. It showed in your eyes. You still had your arm in a cast brought close to your chest by a sling. Watching Enid study you Maggie decided to add some insight. "We didn't know she was alive until half way to Hilltop. Didn't know if she would make it even a few days after."

Enid look to you with pity. She saw how sick you were even before leaving Alexandria. At least that seemed to be better. Maggie cleared her throat, "How is everything back at Alexandria."

Enid explained about how they took and trashed everything back home. Maggie could only scowl at the thought of them. At the mention of how they brought Daryl with them and he looked to not be doing to well but still alive. You had looked up and just stared intently, "He ok?" With you gaining some abilities back it was harder to lie about what happened. You had yet to know of his capture and Glenn's death. It was only a matter of time before you found out.

Your mind seemed to be other wise fine. Most of the trouble was how it was trying to move your body. Walking was going to need to be learned again. When you got your right hand back writing and holding things as well. Nothing time couldn't fix. Maggie was the person to mostly look after you. You were a welcome distraction from her mind.

Later that day was when you said something that shook her. To see your mind healing and remember. You were just staring out the window while the sun started to set.

"I was a mercy kill."

You went to sleep shortly after. It was probably time to tell you the truth. Before you could think of all the worsts before hand.

Your POV

Being woken up by Jesus pulling you out of bed with haste and to carry you and hide you under the trailer was not what you were expecting. He was saying 'their here' and 'need to stay here and be silent.' You were laying under the trailer in dirt. It was finally catching up to what had happen just then. You didn't know all the things you probably should but you knew it would come naturally. While you lay there waiting for Jesus to tell you it was safe you remember that a few days ago you thought he was the literally Jesus for a second longer then you would like to admit.

You saw men taking things all around you. These were the asshole who did this to you. You remember when you woke up in the back of the truck. Two bodies beside you. You knew one was Abraham but didn't have the guts to ask who the other was. You just couldn't handle it at the moment. Others thought that to if they didn't say anything about it.

You were starting to get cold. But you saw that the men were leaving now. When the men were gone you don't think you could get out of there by yourself if you tried. When a group of people were quickly making your way over to you, you sighed ready to get up out the dirt. It was Maggie's voice you first heard. She sounded like she was panicking, "Did you hide her? Where is she?" She sounded to be directing this to Jesus. Then you heard a voice that surprised you, "What? Hide who?" It was Rosita. They got closer to you before Jesus spoke and lent down to were he put you. "She's ok, I put her here."

Jesus start to pull you out revealing who you were to Rosita. You just popped out being dragged by under your arms. "Hi" She gasped and lent down to help pick you up off the floor. "Your still alive..." she looked about ready to cry. You smiled, "Damn r-right I am." You would have had more trouble standing if Jesus wasn't helping but also leaning into Rosita while hugging you helped. It was Sasha who came to help you back to your bed while the others talked some more.

It was later that evening eating dinner when everybody was in Jesus's trailer. Everyone was talking while you stared at your left hand trying to move it to the best of your ability. Your body felt like it had latency that's why is was so hard to do anything. You and Maggie were now on your own with them taken Dr. Carson. You sighed and looked around you decided it was time. You needed to know.

"What happened that day..."

It went quiet before all eyes went to you. It was Maggie who first tried to start but Rosita cut in. "What do you remember." You bit your lip and look off into the distance. "Seeing what happened to Abraham, I was struggling to breath... I remember the feeling of the bat. I didn't pass out as soon as it hit me. I froze. Played dead even." You paused before sucking in a breath, your voice was still slow and looked to take a lot of focus to do, because it did.

"I woke up next to two bodies..."

Now is when Maggie spoke, "Daryl had punched Negan after he hit you." You sucked in a breath and held it. "He tried to kill you unprovoked, I don't blame Daryl." She looked into your eyes. "Negan killed Glenn." The air in your lungs released and a shaky hand came to cover your mouth, tears filling your eyes. The room was silent for a moment before she spoke again. "Daryl punched him and distracted him from you. Negan would have kept swinging at you." You closed your eyes to soak in the information. You were alive at Glenn's expense. "There's more." You opened your eyes to look at her.

"They took Daryl as there prisoner."

Part 3

Feedback welcomed and requests open!

Reunions coming next part :)

Also little disclaimer I’m really dyslexic so sorry with grammar or spelling that is messed up!

[moonlight-prose]

BLOOD ALONG THE MOON

➛ 04. ECHOES OF MADNESS

a/n: for some unknown reason, this man has decided to invade my thoughts again. between watching the batman again with @soulores and just fall making me long for this man again, this was bound to happen. i've been working on this chapter for months now, having started it well into april. but i'm actually feeling good about continuing. i've created a graphic for this story which i will add at the end of this chapter. hopefully this inspo sticks around for a bit because i'm excited for what's to come.

summary: funerals were a rarity in gotham, yet there you were at the most notable event of the year. few could truly get in...yet everyone was invited.

word count: 6.2k+

pairing: bruce wayne x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, cussing, violence, blood, angst, rescue mission, canon compliant sorta, danger, tensions running high, bruce doesn't know how to interact socially, our favorite reporter is an idiot when it comes to safety.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

Death seemed to shape the city of Gotham as the currents of a river would a stone. Wherever you looked, in every alleyway and around each street corner there was the stench of it. The way it seeped up from the cracked asphalt, spilled into the gutters, and leaked into the sewer lines. Tainting what good might have remained.

You couldn't remember the last time you attended a funeral. Yet people still kept dying. The call came early in the morning; Henry informing you—with a hoarse whisper of someone suffering a hangover—that you were to attend the biggest event in Gotham. Few could truly get in, yet everyone was invited.

The irony of the situation lingered like shitty burnt coffee on the back of your tongue.

From what Bruce Wayne told you briefly in his short but right to the point interview, this city once aspired to be something great. A beacon of hope for all those who needed it. But the only hint of that you could see echoed in the symbol that hung in the sky. You watched last night, a glass of wine in front of you and a scowl painted across your face, as dawn began to rise and the signal flicked off. Bringing another night of petty crime to a close.

Of course, you believed in what The Bat was doing; what he stood for. A call of vengeance to any piece of shit who tried to go against him. But at the end of the day you still witnessed the disaster that was left behind. The tarnished cold aftermath of all that he could not save.

The madness that stirred beneath the surface.

The click of your boots on the damp pavement was drowned out by the nonsensical chatter of the crowd. Reporters, photographers, anyone to capture this moment were corralled like cattle behind varying gates of different sizes. You almost wished you had a camera to solidify this moment in Gotham's history books. There you were, standing on the steps of a cathedral, a funeral for the mayor about to occur, and all people wanted was to see who attended. Who was on his personal friends list.

The bile slid up the back of your throat, burning your esophagus on the way. There had to be some irony to this situation. Some dark humor yet to be exposed. Maybe if you dug far enough...you'd find it.

"Daywalker!" You jumped at the nickname, your body on edge after the past two nights reporting. Flicking your gaze to the side, you caught sight of Martinez waving at you with a grin plastered across his face.

He took your grin as an invitation to join you on the steps.

"Quite an event huh."

Tugging your coat closer, you did what you could to wash away the chill of the morning air. "Anyone who's anyone is here."

He chuckled, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Who'd have thought they all knew the mayor."

"I guess he had friends in low places," you muttered, the wry smile on your face seemed to be all you could muster at this point.

The idea of the mayor being involved with Gotham's crime bosses didn't surprise you. In fact you probably would have been shocked if they didn't turn up. Dressed to the nines, dripping in jewels, and wearing grief as if it were stripped right off the runway.

Citizens lined the streets, their heads bowed in respect and in your mind's eye, they were the embodiment of a Baroque painting. Except they weren't worshiping the mayor as king. No, their eyes were cast to the cars that just pulled up. Mouths gaping in awe as none other than Carmine Falcone stepped out of his car, suit pressed and glasses hiding the truth.

You almost wanted to laugh.

A sleek black car pulled up to the line of cars, the rumble of the engine familiar to your ears. You turned, the collar of your coat blocking half your face against the cold air. Only to meet the gaze of Gotham's very own Prince. Bruce Wayne was dressed in a perfectly pressed suit with not a single hair out of place. Yet you could see the way he hid beneath the facade of wealth, how his eyes refused to meet anyone else's other than yours. His lips curled into a small hint of a smile, but people were starting to block you from sight, pulling his attention away to something far more important.

"I've got to help Gordon inside," Martinez said, pressing a soft hand to your arm. "Let's get out of the cold, yeah?"

Nodding, you climbed the remainder of the steps and followed him into the cathedral. The high ceilings casted shadows amongst them of people on the balcony level. Gotham's very own ghosts attending the funeral of a man who promised to save them. The architecture reminded you of prisons, of cells built specifically to drive men insane.

Maybe that was the point of Gotham to begin with.

To drive the people within it mad.

"Miss Day," Gordon greeted you with a gruff murmur, the exhaustion painted clear across his face.

As usual the detective who had The Bat in his pocket refused to find time to sleep. Especially on days like today.

"Detective." You glanced up, eyes tracing the silhouettes of Gotham's people as they gathered to the edge. Hungry for what might happen next—for the demise of those in power. "Busy day?"

He scoffed. "You got no idea."

"Trust me. I think I do," you murmured.

"Where's the big guy?"

Your eyes caught his briefly. "Henry Goldfinch doesn't attend the funerals of men he didn't believe in."

For the first time that morning, Gordon cracked a smile. "Harsh review."

You shrugged. "Or honest."

"Henry isn't one to make brash statements unless he knows something." Gordon's eyes narrowed slightly and suddenly you felt like you were the one being interviewed. "Does he know something?"

The familiar figure of a man you couldn't seem to dispel from your mind creeped past slowly, his head bowed and eyes cast to the floor. Yet he seemed to grow in height as he heard your voice. Even completely lost within his own mind, Bruce Wayne still searched for you wherever he went. How he managed to get under your skin alluded you. But the same could surprisingly be said for him as well.

"If he knew something he wouldn't tell me." You shifted the second Bruce's head rose, blue eyes fixing directly on you. "But you can't honestly stand there and tell me The Riddler or whatever the fuck he calls himself didn't target our mayor for a reason."

"You think the mayor was dirty?"

You scoffed. "I'm not saying that, but given the audience that's accrued in this building today...it wouldn't surprise me if he was."

"Day–" Gordon's words were cut off as Martinez loudly greeted someone behind you.

"Detective."

You were nearly ashamed of yourself at how quickly you recognized his raspy voice. The time you spent in the diner together played on a loop in the back of your mind. Admitting it weighed on your heart, but denying the truth felt inconceivable.

For that small amount of time as rain pelted the windows and music played softly in the background, you felt like a person again. Not a reporter sent out into the fray of Gotham, but you. The person buried beneath the trench coat you wore; the person who only seemed to come out on days when the sun shone over this dark city.

"Mr. Wayne." Gordon's eyes widened slightly, disbelief smeared across his face. It seemed the funeral dragged out even the most reclusive of souls. "I didn't expect..."

"Could I steal Miss. Day from you for a moment?" Even you could tell he was fighting against the uncomfortable nature of being out in public.

The thought nearly made you smile.

"Of course."

Gordon's attention was called away as Bruce's hand brushed your arm. You wondered if you were in a private setting, would he act differently? Would he touch you? Lead you himself? Or would he remain detached?

"I saw you arrive," you said, clasping your hands together and glancing at the throng of people that meandered through the doors. "Sorry I didn't say hello."

His mouth curled, eyes lighter than you'd seen them. If you squinted you might have seen the small glint of delight hidden in the blue of his iris. He hid the sight of joy well—a secret you weren't allowed to view yet. But for a split second...his mask slipped. You caught what might have been the Bruce Wayne of the past; the man that could still exist to this day.

"Quite an event to run into each other again."

You bit on the inside of your cheek to stop your grin. Flirting at a funeral reeked of inappropriate behavior. And yet you couldn't find it in your heart to care much, given the audience.

"And here I thought I'd have to pry you out of your tower to see you again," you joked, wishing he might gift you another small glimpse of that smile you knew existed.

His head ducked, lips pulling up, and your heart effectively stopped. "Am I that difficult?"

"Oh no," you said, breathing out a laugh. "Difficult is too generous. Now arduous or laborious or onerous–" He laughed, his eyes crinkling and oh how you longed to kiss him, to taste him on your tongue. "Those are a better fit in your case."

"Noted." He stepped closer as people shifted behind him, squeezing through the crowd for a seat. "Some days I'm more shadow than man. I'll make sure to be more available to you."

There were no rules or regulations about dating someone you'd interviewed. Henry seemed all for it—Alfred even more so—but you felt the nausea begin to eat at your stomach. The wariness of something to come. The truth wasn't out yet about all of this, why the mayor was killed, and until you felt comfortable again in Gotham...you weren't sure you wanted to start something with Bruce Wayne.

A relationship with him would bring you into the spotlight.

For a reporter, that was dangerous enough. For the ones you loved...it was lethal.

"Bruce...I–"

His eyes went blank, body moving away as he caught the conflict that flashed across your face. You didn't want him to get hurt. Refused to be the reason that the Wayne family no longer had someone to carry the name forward. Perhaps that's why you cut off your feelings and stowed them away in your heart. Or maybe you were simply terrified of someone finally knowing you.

After all...it had been awhile.

You longed to say all of this and more out loud, but whether or not he'd listen was a different story entirely.

"Were you at the scene?"

His question caught you off guard. "What? Oh...um...yes. I was."

He nodded. "Are you okay?"

If you had to count on one hand how many times Bruce Wayne left you speechless, floundering for coherent words, you'd run out of fingers. Rather than seek information and dig out every detail from your mind as others already had. He wanted to know if what you saw, the horror that still stuck to your skin, left scars of their own.

He wanted to make sure every part of you remained safe. Not simply your ability to do your job.

"Yes," you breathed, the rip in your chest—that inconsolable ache—suddenly too much to bear. "Thank you."

The conversation came to a natural conclusion when the procession began, the soft tinkle of a piano echoing off the stone walls. His lips parted, words on the tip of his tongue, but the sound of his name caused him to stiffen. Within seconds you watched the man you'd come to know vanish. Until the recluse Gotham recognized resurfaced.

"It was nice to see you," you said softly with a smile, leaving him to speak with others as you sought your standing place beside Martinez.

People diverted their attention as Falcone stepped into the building, his aura enough to fill the cathedral with fear and the distant tang of blood. You wondered if he ever felt it on his skin. The phantom warmth of someone else's life slipping through his fingers. Did the ghosts of his past haunt him as they did others? Or was he immune to their effect?

A villain with the eyes of a friend.

"Gordon would love to put that asshole behind bars," Martinez muttered, leaning on the wall beside you. "Walks in here like he owns the fuckin' place."

You sighed, unable to ignore the way Gordon glared at the man from across the room. The promise of death—or a fate worse—alight in his eyes.

Months ago, when rumors about Falcone began to spill into the Gazette's back doors, you attempted to write a story. To put a face of truth to the man pulling all the strings. Before you could even blink, Henry killed it with ease. Practically burning your files right in front of you and barring you from returning for a whole week. 

You never understood what power Carmine Falcone held over people before that day. Only when you saw true fear in Henry's eyes at the thought of reporting your death, did you finally grasp the scope of this man's hold.

The reality of Gotham's darkness.

"Maybe he does," you mused, sipping on the coffee he brought you. "Maybe he owns every person in this room. We just don't know it yet."

"Wouldn't that be something," Martinez scoffed, tucking a hand into his front pocket. "Definitely somethin' to make the front page."

You grinned although no ounce of humor could be found in your otherwise solemn facade. The mayor was dirty. Everyone within a five foot radius could see that with a clarity that rarely befell a gloomy Gotham. But saying it out loud felt as if you were partaking in a misdeed that would get you burnt at the stake; no doubt turning you into the first killed witch in this damn city.

Of course news like that would make the front page. It would be slapped on every newspaper and magazine that was published only to seep through the streets and find the path to other cities beyond the outskirts. The blood of Gotham wouldn't merely affect the people here. It would lead to catastrophic downfalls in places you'd never been to, spots that would take this as a lesson to learn from—to do what this city could not.

You lost yourself in the chatter. The monotonous conversations of people attempting to pry at the personal life of a man no one truly knew. Although if you were the one being asked you wouldn't say that exactly.

There was only one man in this cathedral who truly knew the mayor and he was currently being regarded as the King of Gotham.

Disgust simmered low in your belly, mixing brutally with the tepid coffee you still sipped at. Carmine Falcone always knew when to stick his hand in something that might bring him power. Fucking with the mayor was a one way ticket into an office of some prestige.

Not even you would put it past him.

The choir began to sing while the remainder of the crowd shuffled inside, swarming their way to what chairs still remained. You leaned against the wall, feet crossed at the ankles and eyes tracking every slight movement over the rim of your cup. Martinez chatted with a cop to his right, giving you the space he so obviously thought you needed. Maybe he believed you were actually mourning the man in the coffin. The savior of Gotham.

You didn't have the heart to tell you were stuck in a long line of people waiting to speak their truth about who that man really was.

An alto reached a pitch that grated on your ears. The cold air from outside brushing across your face and stinging your nose. This would be a long procession. You could tell from the way people never quite sat down—ambling between rows of chairs, each of them clamoring to talk to the next. You spotted Bruce stuck in a conversation of his own, head ducked and back stiff. It wouldn't take a genius to figure that he loathed being out in the open—a feral animal who continuously looked to see if someone was attempting to back him into a corner.

One day he might snap, bite the hand of Gotham for the shitty circumstances it gave him.

For now he seemed desperate to slip away and hide in the shadows just as you were doing.

The echo of music came to an abrupt halt, people stopping instantaneously as a roar sounded from outside. You heard the screams before you saw the car. The piercing wail of someone getting hurt, of others running for their lives. Your coffee tumbled out of your hands, splattering to the ground as someone shoved past you in an attempt to get to the front of the cathedral.

The situation at hand isn't what surprised you; it was the horror on their face at the thought they might die.

How strange that you chose to fixate on something so minimal when you should have feared for your own safety too.

"Day!" Martinez shouted, his arms wrapping around your waist and body pinning you to the wall when the other shoe finally dropped.

The car breached the entrance like a bullet being fired from a pistol. With enough speed to kill those close by with a swift and executing blow. People screamed while they ran. Some heading for the entrance, others cowering in fear along the wall. You tried to suck in a breath, but the impact of too many people crowded around became a punch to your lungs with each movement.

You never thought you were claustrophobic, but suddenly you began to consider the prospect as Martinez mumbled into your shoulder asking if you were okay. His hands pressed flat to the wall to keep the others from crushing you.

"We gotta get everyone out of here," he muttered under his breath.

You sucked in a breath despite the weight. "Where's Gordon?"

"By the front."

"Get over there. I'm fine here."

Another shove and your head rammed into the stone wall, splitting pain cresting over your right eye as you clamped down hard on the inside of your cheek to stifle the groan. That would come to bite you in the ass later—destroying any sense of calm you could harbor in your body. But at this very moment worrying about a small injury was the least of your worries.

"Are you sure?" The hesitation practically bled into his voice. Which only served to piss you off despite his courteous manners of sticking close to keep you safe.

"Go," you snapped.

Through the bustle of people clamoring to get out, you made a choice. One that placed your date of death higher up on a list than you might have liked. Sliding along the wall, you crept towards the barred staircase—the balcony cleared of anyone that crammed their way in to watch the funeral procession. Gordon's voice echoed above the disarray, directing the flow of panic as you sunk into the shadows bathed along the far right side.

No one would bother to check for civilians up here. Not after everyone sprinted for the exit; safety the only thing on their minds. Your boots were silent against the stone staircase, body hunched to avoid detection from the mountain of cops spilling in through the front. A man stood by the car door, hands raised and mouth taped over to muffle the sounds of his cries for help.

"Shit," you breathed, chancing a quick moment to lean over the railing. "That's the fucking D.A."

"Everyone out!" Gordon shouted.

He was the last one through the doors. You fished the black notebook out of your pocket and scribbled down two words.

D.A.

Corrupt

The two most notable suspects in a case gone wrong stared you directly in the face. The Riddler. The man who orchestrated this entire affair was finally making his presence known to the people of this disfigured city. Whoever hid behind that mask seemed desperate enough to string along as many corrupt men as possible. Which only made your suspicions grow—the list of people you often figured were too clean, too good, now falling to the forefront of your mind.

He wanted to unearth the truth.

He wanted to bring Gotham to its knees.

You ducked into a corner of the balcony, pen scratching along the page in a stream of consciousness that you'd later dissect for the paper. Henry would demand every finite detail you were able to collect. Which made staying up here your top priority.

A familiar thump resounded in the cathedral, bouncing off stone walls and filling the large vacant space. He walked in with purpose, bleeding a tremor of dominance in the still air that rumbled at the base of your chest. You shrunk against the small pillars, eyes trained on the figure in black as he moved towards the D.A. unafraid of the contraption strapped to the man's chest.

Even you had to hand it to The Bat. He clearly didn't fear what consequences might one day befall his own being.

He wasn't scared of the one thing all humankind shared amongst themselves. Death.

The shrill ring of a phone forced terror to claw up your throat. Whatever breath existed in your lungs vanished within a second. The Bat held himself in his usual tall stature of resilience. A man who looked like he could take the blast from whatever explosion The Riddler set out for him. That didn't stop the fear from nearly crippling whatever bravery you managed to cling to.

He could die today.

You didn't want to be the only one to witness this loss.

Their voices rang in the air, riddles spewing from the phone with a rancid air of madness you tasted at the back of your throat. And you wrote down each one. You put pen to the page and let the ink bleed the truth—your job taking precedence over your life. The people of this city had to know what happened, they deserved this much given the hell they fought through day and night.

"He's asking how much it costs for you to turn your back."

The pen nearly slipped from your hand at the gruff echo of his voice spilling what everyone wanted to know. Your head shot up, attention solely focused on what might very well be the biggest story The Gotham Gazette would ever see slapped across their front page.

"Ten G's a month. Ten grand. That's my answer."

You sucked in a shaky breath, fingers clutching the pen tight enough for pain to flare up your wrist.

"Please...tell us which vermin you're paid to protect."

"Holy shit," you whispered, sweat prickling along the back of your neck.

"The rat. The informant you're all protecting from the Salvatore Maroni case," The Bat urged, his voice thick with urgency. "What's his name?"

"No."

You scrambled to your feet, The Riddler's voice counting the seconds down in glee as The Batman did what he could to save a corrupt man's life. Your chest heaved with each breath, silence flooding the space until you had to lean over the railing just to hear their voices above your own heart beat.

"You're talking to a dead man," he whispered, eyes wide with a terror you'd never seen before.

"What's the name?"

He shook his head, trembling where he stood. "It's so much bigger than you could imagine. It's the whole system."

Your pen barely scratched the surface of the crinkled paper before the time ran out. The blast ricocheted off the walls, slamming into you with a force that crushed everything inside to the very back of your body. You cried out as it flung you into the wall with a loud crack, your skull hitting stone. Pain filled every sense, a faint high pitched ring overwhelmed whatever you could hear and suddenly you were back on that street as your blood stained the sidewalk.

Gasping wetly for a steady breath, you felt warmth trickle down your forehead, spilling onto the cold skin of your cheek. You reached for it in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Only for your vision to blur—the steady beat of your heart now pounding heavily within your chest.

"No," you breathed, rolling onto your back. "Not again."

Everything else cut out—each means of escape vanishing within a moment—and suddenly...the world went dark.

"You could have at least pulled that punch, man." The squeak of the elevator broke through the smoggy air atop the building as Gordon stepped out with a wince.

"I did."

"Bock put out an APB on you." Gordon sighed, his brows furrowed and his patience wore thin. "You really think he's in on this?"

"I don't trust any of 'em. Do you?"

Gordon shook his head subtly. "I only trust you."

The information was strewn about, traded in hoarse whispers as the city lights flickered on, night taking over Gotham once more. Pain lingered in his chest from the explosion but he could ignore it for the time being. This remained the most important thing in his life. The vital piece of a puzzle that slowly unfurled before his very eyes—reasons why The Riddler felt it necessary to target certain corrupt men.

"You got hit by the blast dead on. I don't know how you're still standing," Gordon stated plainly, his eyes flickering to the center of the plated armor on his chest—the symbol of a bat staring back.

"I'll live."

He nodded. "We felt it from outside. Had people dropping to the floor from the echoes."

Something burrowed its way to the front of his mind, trickling down into fear receptors that rarely triggered the longer he remained in his position. The people there were put in danger. They were hurt by what game The Riddler chose to play. But that's not what concerned him the most.

You were there amidst the crowd, lost to a sea of madness the second that car broke through the front gates.

"There's a reporter," he said, voice catching on the back of his throat. "Goes by Daywalker."

Gordon hummed. "Yeah I saw her there. One of the only good ones in the city if I'm honest."

"Did she make it out?"

The pause of silence gripped his heart in a way he didn't like. It filled his stomach with bile, sent it careening up his throat, and suddenly he was a child again in that alleyway. His eyes fixed on the only two people who were placed on this Earth to love him. To give him a life of joy and days overflowing with laughter. Not a bitter heartache that clung to the inside of his chest—digging claws into soft tissue simply to watch him bleed.

Gordon mulled over the question, racking his mind for the answer. "I didn't see her in the crowd." Was all he could come up with.

"You know anyone who can contact her?"

"She an informant?" When he was faced with a wall of hollow air, he dug for the phone in his jacket pocket, slamming down the number of the only man in Gotham who could locate a reporter. "Henry. Need a lead on one of your reporters. Goes by Daywalker."

A mumble of information filtered through the phone's speaker, barely loud enough for him to hear through the mask, but one word caught his attention like lightning cracking across the night sky. Missing. You were gone. Unheard of. His teeth clenched, fingers curling into fists as the patter of his heart quickened the longer he stood there unable to help.

"Thanks." Gordon pocketed his phone, rubbing a hand across his face. "No one's heard from her. Henry called it into the station, but they've pushed it off for now."

"What about Martinez?" He recalled the bitterness that soured his stomach at the sight of your smile given to someone who could offer you a sense of normalcy. "They seem friendly."

"He's been with me since the attack."

Prying the memories from his mind, he tried to place where he'd last seen you. Only to come up with an image of you leaning against the wall—a coffee in your hand and a frown painted across your lips. The wall...closest to the staircase. No other person would have made that choice—put themselves in that kind of danger. But the best reporter in Gotham wouldn't hesitate—they'd barely give themselves time to mull over the consequences.

"She never left," he muttered.

"What?"

He was striding towards the elevator before a response could leave his mouth. Gordon trailed after him, yanking the keys out of his coat with an urgency that nearly dropped them to the floor. You were still trapped within the walls of that cathedral, but that's not what made a cold chill curl at the base of his spine. Wherever you were remained within the blast radius of that explosion.

Which meant you were hurt.

The car roared to life with an anger that blasted in the night air. He slammed on the gas, swerving onto the street as Gordon drove behind—their urgency bleeding into every action. The state you were in is what gnawed at him the most.

The balcony wasn't far enough away, but he would have seen you standing there when he entered the building. He would have known you were there by your presence alone, even if his eyes were unable to pinpoint where exactly that happened to be.

He sucked in a breath, stopping in the alleyway beside the cathedral, before rushing towards the side entrance. The acrid scent of burnt flesh still permeated the air when he swung open the door. It slammed into his chest like before, marring his otherwise cool exterior. Anger seared up his chest, forcing itself to be known as he took the stairs two at a time.

Only to see a limp figure curled in on itself by the wall—a pool of dried crimson beneath them.

"No," he breathed, dropping to his knees. "C'mon. Wake up."

Your face was coated in a thick layer of dried blood, matting down your hair against your forehead. The shallow rise and fall of your chest gave him an indication on how long you'd been up here. Several hours without help. Hours spent alone floating between the states of conscious and unconscious. Your body had gone into shock long before he woke up in the police station, the injuries sustained far too much for your system to handle.

"Day," he muttered, cupping your face with a gloved hand. "Day wake up. Don't do this to me."

A weak gasp slipped past your chapped lips—eyes weakly fluttering against tear stained cheeks. "V-Vengeance?"

"Gordon!" Lifting you to his chest, he rose on his knees. "I'm here. I've got you."

"He's dead," you coughed, fingers scrambling to clutch onto his cape. "T-The D.A. he's–"

"I know."

"Victim," you mumbled, eyes rolling back as he got you to the stairs.

Knocking his forehead on yours softly, he dragged in another harsh breath. "Wake up. You hear me Day? Stay awake."

"F-Falcone–" A cough rattled your chest, body shivering at the harsh physical exertion. He clutched you tighter, hand gripping the back of your neck to raise your head. "Thomas...Wayne."

He froze, boots nearly tripping on the last step. "What did you say?"

The dead weight against his arms was all you offered in response. The fatigue and blood loss finally taking its toll on a body that had endured far too much—the explosion ripping everything from you. He held you close enough to feel the beat of your heart through your back, the soft breaths you managed became a warm wash of air along his chin. If this were a different time, if he was Bruce instead of The Bat he might have chanced an embrace like this.

But that amount of luck would never remain in the cards for a man like himself.

He'd forever be the savior, the man this city needed. Never the man you wanted.

"She's lost a lot of blood," he stated, laying you in the backseat of Gordon's car with a gentleness that startled him to his very core. "Trauma to the head from the blast."

"I'll get her to the hospital."

He chanced one last look at your peaceful face—fingers trailing lightly along your chin before retreating with a sigh. "Ask for Elain."

"And you?"

"The Penguin," he replied calmly. "We need to have a talk."

Chaos erupted in the hallway of the hospital, shouts heard left and right as two men were dragged out by security, their voices loud enough to rouse you from an excruciating sleep. Jolting in the shitty bed, you felt the prick of needles against the juncture of your forearm, a cold wash of liquid spreading up into your veins. The light pierced your eyes, blinding you for a moment as you came to with a searing headache.

A soft monotonous beep echoed beside you monitoring your heart rate—the hills and bumps of your life mapped out for you to see on a screen for the first time. You hated the hospital. Loathed the antiseptic smell that burned your nose, struggled to maintain a grasp on what the fuck happened to land you here.

And only when you fought to sit up—a pained shout wrenching from your chest—did it all come rushing back to you. The explosion. The D.A. The Ridder's whole reason for striking the way he did. He wanted to know about the rat, the man who every higher up in Gotham vowed to protect with their lives. You just never thought you would be included in that list—yet another victim to the grief that plagued this godforsaken city.

"You're awake." The door shut with a soft thud, Elain clicking her pen as she flipped through the keyboard at the end of the bed. "You suffered a blow to the head. Concussion. A detective brought you in, told me a mutual friend found you in the cathedral."

"Elain–" Your voice cracked in the small attempt of words, but her fury clamped your jaw shut instantly.

"Are you fucking insane? Or are you simply trying to die?" She huffed, setting the board back in its rightful spot. "I patch you up in your apartment while your shadow glares at me the whole time. But this? Found at the very scene where the D.A. just got blown to pieces. What the fuck Day?"

"I know–"

She sucked in a breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. "No you don't know. I've got people here who would love to know why you're here. People who don't work for Gotham P.D."

"I'm sorry," you mumbled.

"I'm not about to attend a funeral for you Day. That can't happen."

Shame hung heavy atop your shoulders. "I made a mistake. I shouldn't have stayed."

"Yeah. You did a whole lot more than that." Settling in the chair propped beside your bed, she clasped her hands together tight enough to turn her knuckles white. "There were witnesses when that detective brought you in. People who are now walking the halls outside this room because of it."

"They don't know anything."

"And if they do?"

You sucked in a shaky breath. "He wouldn't let that happen."

Her eyes sunk into the depths of your soul, prying out what you weren't telling her—what you kept close to your chest. "What's going on between you two?"

"Nothing–"

She grinned, lifeless and full of mirth—her eyes echoing with a dull exhaustion that came with working long hours in a ruthless city. "He cares about you Day."

"He doesn't care–"

"Yes. He does." Rising to her feet, she dug out your phone. "He wouldn't have searched for you if he didn't care."

The brightness of your screen burned your still bleary eyes—the notifications rolling in as the power started back up. Elain mumbled about grabbing food in the cafeteria, her body hunched forward when she left—head ducked to avoid the sight of whoever paced the halls. You couldn't stay here long if that was the case. Especially given the notes housed in your small notebook tucked into your hospital gown.

A message from Gordon caught your attention, the words short and simple. Yet filled with enough to send a flutter through your chest.

Hope you're okay. With your guy. Will be in touch soon.

–Gordon

You glanced at the message beneath it. A myriad of questions from Henry asking if you were at the funeral, if you caught any good interviews, if you were alive. You swallowed thickly at the last one—fingers clenching around your phone as the words blurred in front of you.

BRUCE WAYNE: OUT OF THE SHADOWS is a front page story set for publication in two days. Congrats kid.

–Henry Goldfinch

[sturniololoco]

Big Game pt 3

SLS x Nathan Doe

warnings: suggestive, bruising, language, etc.

Nate’s POV

I think I'm dreaming.

How was I lying in the backseat of my best friend's car, lying across their backseat, with my head in the lap of their sister?

It felt too good.

"Nick, would you mind sitting in the way back please?" SLS/N asked her older brother, batting her eyelashes.

He rolled his eyes and grumbled "Fine" before climbing in the back.

After Matt started driving, she pulled on my sleeve, pulling me towards her, till my head was in her lap.

She took my ice pack from my hands and placed it gently on my nose. My eyes fluttered shut as she began mindlessly playing with my hair using her other hand.

"Damn, Nates getting princess treatment," Chris said, reaching back from the front seat and playfully poking me in the ribs.

Before I could react, SLS/N slapped him and away, saying,

"Hush, Chris. He's tired."

Chris looked at her with a look of shock. He placed the back of his hand on his forehead dramatically.

"I'm a little tired too you know!" He said.

"Well, I don't think you're the one with a broken nose Christopher!" She said to her brother, raising her voice ever so slightly.

That shut him up.

-

The car ride consisted of me falling in and out of sleep, still lying across SLS/N's lap. At one point, I was so tired, I felt myself turn to my side to get more comfortable.

I ended up turning my face right into her lower stomach, sighing happily.

Her fingers hesitated and she sat up a little. At first, I thought I overstepped, and just as I was about to get up, she relaxed a little and continued playing with my hair till we got home.

-

Once we were about five minutes away from my house, SLS/N" woke me up.

"Is your mom back from her business trip or are you gonna be home alone?" She asks me.

She remembered. I told her this weeks ago.

"I-uh...no, it's just me," I say, groggily, before closing my eyes again.

"Nick, can I stay over and make sure he's okay? You guys have a car video to film anyway." I hear her ask her older brother.

Just as I am about to tell her that I'm fine and she doesn't need to baby me, her brother replies with a yes, and we pull into my driveway.

-

Once inside, I threw my gear and hockey stick onto the floor and collapsed on the couch, grabbing the remote and flicking the TV on.

I hear SLS/N rummaging around in the kitchen before coming into the living room with a fresh ice pack and a Tylenol.

"You know, you really didn't have to do this," I say, taking the medicine from her and swallowing it dry.

"I know. But I wanted to." She says, looking down at her sweater paws in her lap. I see her cheeks heat up and I smile to myself, looking at how cute she is.

Feeling brave, I pull her to me in a half-hug snuggle. She leans onto my chest, relaxing. She must be tired too, after having a long school day, watching two games in the cold, then taking care of me.

we stay like this, watching a random movie that came on.

But then things changed.

She started mindlessly tracing shapes on the inside of my upper thigh. I could feel the heat rising on my cheeks as I got a feeling in my lower abdomen.

as she moves her hand up, I quickly stand up. She looks at me surprised. I flick the TV off and toss the remote onto the table.

"It's getting late. Imma go shower and then probably hop in bed. You can borrow any clothes you'd like out of my drawer, you know where my room is." I say quickly.

And with that, I run up the stairs to my bathroom.

-

When I get to my bathroom and shut the door, I can feel my pants grow tighter in the front. I quickly take them off, revealing the large balge in my boxers.

"Fuck. I cannot believe this is happening." I mumble under my breath. I then hop in the shower, hoping it will sort out by itself.

I was wrong.

I get out of the shower, not surprised by the obvious tent in my pants, even with boxers and sweats on. I sigh, opening my bathroom door and going into my room.

what I saw when I got in there, did not help my current situation.

SLS/N was lying on my bed in one of my T-shirts and a pair of my boxers. She looks up at me, smiling. She then looks down and notices my current...situation.

"what have we got here?" She says, giving me a little smirk. I look down bashfully, my cheeks turning pink again.

"c'mere Nate." I hear her say. Just the way she says my name makes me painfully harder.

I walk over to her and stand between her legs. She looks me up and down before fiddling with the strings of my sweatpants.

"Do you want some help with that?" She asks me. without thinking, I nod my head frantically.

"Well you did play very well in your game today, I think you deserve it."

And with that comment, I'm no longer shy.

I give her a devilish smile, pushing her chest till she's lying back on the bed. I pin her arms above her head and climb on top of her.

-

hehe cliff hanger

@idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life @sstvrnioloo @sturns-posts @chrisstopherfilmed @kylasrealityx @zoeysturnioloooooo @comet235 @islaasblog @sturnioloblogs @defnotayonna @mattsleftnipple03 @thematthewlover

[lovelyiida]

THE RACE TO WEDDING BELLS ❤︎︎

CHAPTER 7: PASS THE SALT

"You know what they say about secretaries."

KATSUKI BAKUGO X SECRETARY READER

SYNOPSIS: as the years went by... bakugo realized that he was the last to get married. the days grew cold and the nights turned lonely. bakugo wants to marry, but he doesn't really feel like falling in love. at least he has his trustee secretary!

❥ WARNINGS: implied fem reader, aged-up! Pro-hero MHA characters over the age of 27, vulgar language, suggestive wording, and content.

❥ CHAPTERS

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"A what?"

The revelation hit like an unfathomable wave, leaving Katsuki in utter shock and embarrassment. His words slipped out uncontrollably, and he hung his head low, attempting to collect himself before facing his parents' reactions.

With just a grunt escaping him, the blonde struggled to conjure up a somewhat plausible response. "Just… don't freak out. I've been meaning to say this for a while now, just couldn't find the time."

Deep into his face, palms buried, he rubbed his eyes, attempting to shake himself from the grave he had unwittingly dug.

"How long have you guys been dating? I mean, we're happy, right?" Bakugo's father sought assurance from his wife, but all he received was a long stare.

"Um, I've known her for a while, I guess—"

"Ya' guess? What's that supposed to mean?" Mitsuki interjected, a little disheveled from the news, trying her hardest to take things step by step.

"Please, let him speak," his father interjected.

Another loud pause set into motion, catching Katsuki off guard as he had not anticipated bringing up the topic of you that day. "We were talking, then we started to hang out, started to go out, and the rest was history—"

"What happened to not having time to do anything, since you're, y'know… putting our safety first?" Mitsuki quipped at the hero.

"I can still go out and find love; I'm not some sad and lonely prick!" Katsuki yelled. "If it makes you feel any better, she's my secretary. Still ass-deep in my work."

Katsuki's response earned a scoff from his mother. "I just don't understand why you couldn't tell us about this, of all things. These matters are very important. You didn't even ask for our blessing, Katsuki," she said.

He could tell by the tone of her voice that she was hurt, almost feeling a sense of betrayal. One of the most important moments of her son's life has passed and she wasn't a part of it.

"I want to meet her," she says, Katsuki's breath hitches.

Katsuki swallowed hard, the weight of the situation sinking in. He lifted his head, meeting his mother's gaze, and nodded hesitantly.

"Yeah, uh. I'll bring her over sometime soon. You can meet her, ask whatever the hell you want," he mumbled, trying to keep the conversation under control.

Mitsuki folded her arms, a mix of concern and curiosity etched across her face. "You better not be hiding anything else, Katsuki. We're your parents; we deserve to know what's going on in your life."

Bakugo's father, still trying to process the information, chimed in with a more composed tone. "Son, we just want to understand and be a part of your life. If you're serious about her, then we should support you. But communication is key. You can't just shut us out."

Katsuki sighed, "Yeah, I get it. I messed up, I'll tell her you wanna talk"

His mother's expression softened slightly, though traces of concern lingered. "Good. We're not here to judge; we just want what's best for you."

The tension in the room began to ease as the family started to navigate this unexpected revelation. As the married couple soon go their separate ways, Katsuki storms out of the house. Heading to his car, he jumps in with force.

"Fuck, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?" Looking out towards the distance he lays back into the seat with a drafted sigh. The blonde thinks hard about the decision he's made. He didn't want to rope you into the situation though he didn't have a choice. The old bats wouldn't get off his case (Katsuki self-sabotages quite often).

How the hell is he gonna break this down to you?

"He went to see his mom and dad?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.

The redhead nods nervously, his hand reaching over to fiddle with the closest plant in range. The room falls into an awkward silence, and you find yourself shrugging in response. "Okay? I just don't understand why he couldn't tell me that..."

A thought crosses your mind, "It would've saved me a lot of trouble," you muse to yourself.

"It was so sudden, Ms. L/n, we had no idea—" Riot's explanation gets cut short by the sudden buzz of his phone. With a jolt, he quickly grabs it and stares at the screen. His eyes scan the messages with vigor as he quietly reads the words to himself. You can't help but be curious, "Is that Dynamight?" you ask.

The redhead's eyes shoot up to you for a split second, and then he continues reading. With a quick sigh, he places his phone down and puts his hand up against his temples, squeezing with firm resolve. "Uh... yeah, that was him."

Concern flickers in your eyes as you press further, "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah! everything's fine; it's just Monday, y'know?" he says with an offputting chuckle. Your eyes narrow at him for a split second before scanning the room to check the clock.

"Well, thank you for your kindness, Mr. Riot, but I should get going. I have a meeting with my queen-sized bed." You chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood. Giving the office cat one more affectionate pet, you rise out of your seat with ease and turn towards the door.

"Wait!"

Red Riot's voice booms through the room, causing you (and the cat) to jolt in surprise. "Dynamight's on his way; he really needs to see you," he says quickly. As you blink to process the information he just shared, you can't help but let out a defeated sigh. "So close," you whisper to yourself. Releasing the doorknob, you turn around, putting on your best business-coded smile.

"Sure, just tell him I'll be in his office." Turning back around, you head out the door and walk through the proclaimed hero's office. It's striking to see how night and day the two offices are. The aesthetics shift from sleek and black to relaxed and colorful.

Even the attitudes of the workers differ; they actually seem like they want (or at least don't mind) to do their job. The atmosphere is palpably different, and you find yourself absorbing the contrasting energies as you navigate through the hero's domain.

As you traverse back to the boss's office, you smoothly enter his main office, somewhat savoring the familiar ambiance as you feel a little bittersweet about being back at the office. You begin to unpack your things and get straight into work.

One hour passes, the minutes ticking away in a rhythmic dance.

Two hours pass, each moment blending into the next, creating a seamless continuum.

Three hours pass; you tiredly watch the passage of time marked by the silent ticking of the clock on the wall. A rather substantial chunk of time has passed since Red Riot mentioned that Dynamight was on his way. And you're mad as hell.

You completed everything you needed to an hour ago and decided to sit and wait just for good measure.

But now, impatience gnaws at you. Huffing, you quickly gather your things and head out of the office. Taking the elevator down to the parking garage, you aimlessly walk towards the chauffeur, the air heavy with anticipation as you slip into the sleek vehicle.

You know you're not exactly allowed to use the chauffeur, but fatigue has settled into your bones, and you simply don't feel like dealing with the hassle of taking a cab back home. As the chauffeur skillfully maneuvers through the city's nocturnal labyrinth, you find solace in the gentle hum of the engine.

Finally dropped off at your apartment, you collapse into the welcoming embrace of your bed.

Another couple of hours have passed since you left work. Glancing at the clock, a sense of worry creeps in as 10 pm emerges. "Must've been a serious conversation," you ponder. Out of habit, you pull out your phone and mindlessly text your boss.

TO: Dynamight (BOSS)

Riot told me where you were.

Next time… just tell me not to come in.

Placing the phone down, you continue watching mind-numbing daytime TV reruns. "I wonder if he thinks I'm some joke," you say aloud. Anger quietly simmers in your stomach as you shift your feet around, attempting to find comfort in the folds of your bed.

Not even five minutes later, Dynamight answers your text.

Picking up your phone, your eyes widen at his text.

FROM: Dynamight (BOSS)

outside

we need to talk.

Oh, this is serious…

Jolting out of your bed, a rush of adrenaline propels you to the window, where you cautiously peek outside. There he is, waiting at your door. Surprisingly, he looks a tad bit nervous, perhaps uneasy?

Shutting your blinds, you slip on your house shoes and stomp towards the door. Opening it with a swift motion, you look at the hero. He meets your gaze, appearing tired and somewhat defeated as you begin to let loose on him.

"You need to be more considerate of people's time and what they're going through! Do you even know what I went through today? Well, I ended up in your buddy's office today, okay—"

"Please, L/n… just let me in," the blonde's voice rasps at you. Blinking, you notice how unfazed he looks as you stop your scolding. Quietly cursing under your breath, you hold the door open for him to come in.

As the blonde enters your place, he takes off his shoes and sits at the dining room table. Your boss's demeanor today is unusual compared to how you've seen him before. He looks almost vulnerable to you.

"You want anything to drink?" you say quietly. The blonde rolls his neck and then looks you in the eyes. "Got beer?" he says. You quietly nod and go into the kitchen to get him a beer.

"Get yourself one too; you're gonna need it," he says, the last part just below a whisper. You hum in agreement and grab the beers. Sliding one to him, he grabs it and cracks it open with vigor.

You watch as your boss quickly gulps down the contents, as you only take a small swig. Placing your drink down you look at him concerned.

"What did you need to talk about?" you say softly.

"Um… listen," you watch as the blonde shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He lets out a deep sigh, placing his hands into his pockets, and his head hangs low.

"So, I talked to my parents today—"

"I know that—"

"I was talkin' to them, you know… how parents are. They get on your ass when they need to, and they were definitely on mine. My mom said some things, and I got upset. I started to blabber a whole bunch of shit for no reason—"

"I'm having a hard time figuring out what the issue is. So you're being held accountable?" you say, confused. You watch as he clenches his fist and closes his eyes, trying his absolute hardest not to explode in anger right then and there.

"As… I began to ramble, I brought you up, and I told my parents that you're my girlfriend… we're engaged." He says defeatedly, a long pause of silence goes by as you stare at your boss, absolutely dumbfounded.

What?

"WHAT!"

Jumping up from your seat, you start to pace around the kitchen in anger. "I can't even look at you right now— are you serious?" you turn towards him, eyes wide, and lips turned upward in anger.

"C'mon, it's not that serious—"

"Not that serious? Are you messing with me?" you say outraged.

"L/n, please just sit down so we can talk this out—"

"Talk this out? No, I don't wanna say anything to you. God, how could you do this? It's like I'm not even a person to you; like I'm just a toy that you continuously beat against a hardwood table over, and over, and over—"

"L/n!" Dynamight's voice roars over yours, and you flinch at the sound. The rhythmic sound of your breaths huffing is the only sound that penetrates through the air.

"Okay, fine. We can talk, but I'm not sitting down," you say sternly, which makes the blonde roll his eyes. You hear him mumble a quiet "whatever," which almost sets you right back into another frenzy.

Fighting the urge to escalate, you take a deep breath and continue to pace, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife.

"My parents want to meet you tomorrow, is that okay?" he dares to ask. You wanted to say something witty, something that would tick him off, but you started to go into deep thought.

"Give him a taste of how he's treated you, Y/n; the time is now."

Turning to face him, you look at him with no emotion. "Okay, that's fine," you say. This throws your boss off guard, "uh, are you sure? You seemed pretty against it literally three seconds ago—"

"No… I think it's fine. I know we talked about taking things slow, but it's whatever," you say defeatedly. You watch as the blond takes his hands out of his pockets and places a box out and in front of you.

"You'll need this," he says.

Eyes tracing down from his hand and onto the box, your stomach drops to your ass in a heartbeat.

An engagement ring.

"I'm not forcing you to put it on right now, but just have it on before I see you tomorrow," he says. You aimlessly nod, eyes still glued to the ring. You hear your boss stand from his chair with a screech and walk towards you.

"You don't need to memorize my favorite color or whatever the heck—just be present and actually act as if you're interested, please?" he pleads with you. You hum with a silent nod.

"I'll let myself out," the hero mumbles.

After a few moments, you hear the door close and the sound of his car speeding off into the night. The room is left in silence, filled with the weight of unexpected developments and the promise of an imminent meeting with Dynamight's parents.

Sitting back down at the table, you grab the velvet box. Opening it, you can't help but let out a gasp. The ring is absolutely beautiful, looking way too expensive to be just a regular engagement ring. Taking it out of the box, you can't help but marvel at its beauty.

"I always thought later in my life I would be proposed to a little bit differently…" you chuckle to yourself, unable to help feeling a little bittersweet at the moment you're currently experiencing. The unexpected turn of events, coupled with the striking beauty of the ring, creates a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within you.

Sighing, you place your head down on the table, feeling the cold wood press against your skin. Closing your eyes, you didn't know what to think or feel—you were just there.

"What the hell are you wearing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why do you look so… fancy?"

Currently sitting inside your "fiancé's" car, you're being berated once more for no exact reason. "I just thought that since I'm meeting your parents and all that I would dress nice," you say unbothered as you fix up your makeup in the passenger mirror.

"Plus, I bought this a year ago; m'not letting it collect dust."

You hear the blonde let out a drawn-out sigh, before you knew it, you felt a surprisingly soft hand wrap around your wrist. Looking over, you see him stare at the ring on your finger.

Swallowing your spit, you look over at his hand.

No ring.

"And where's your ring?" you say sternly. "It's right here," he mumbles as he reaches into his armrest. "I was gonna put it on but… I didn't know which finger to put the stupid thing on," he says.

You chuckle at his words as you grab the box from his hand and open it. He chose a pretty nice ring for himself also. Taking the ring out of the holder, you grab his hand and slowly slip the ring on.

"There," you speak softly.

"Thanks," the hero mumbles before quickly snatching his hand away from your grasp and placing them on the steering wheel. Quickly driving off.

Looking at the sights, you see the transitions from the bustling, busy city life to a quiet suburban city. You watch as the hero drives around the town, memorizing every turn and every stop.

Sometimes he would tell you a story about him from childhood whenever he would see a certain park or store. It was nice.

But that "nice" feeling in your body soon turned into anxiety as you watch the car turn down a neighborhood road. The neighborhood is nice, beautiful homes with nicely trimmed grass. This is a place you'd see yourself growing up in if your family actually had the money to.

As the car slows to a stop, you park outside the home of your boss's parents. Swallowing your spit, you nervously play with your ring before looking up at the blonde.

"Hey," he says, and you lift your eyebrows in response.

“Call me Katsuki.”

Your eyes widen at the thought of already starting a first-name basis. "Okay, you can call me Y/n," you say. Katsuki nods at your words, "nice name" he mumbles (he's too bashful to be authentically nice).

"Thanks, you have a nice name too," you say.

"Thanks."

A beat passes before you then watch the blonde hop out of the car and walk over to your side. Opening your door, he holds out his hand for you. Looking at his hand for a moment, you press your lips into a line before grabbing it softly.

Interlacing your fingers with the pro-hero, you didn't know what waves of emotions were going through you at the moment. You felt like a high school girl going on her first date.

You notice once more how soft his hands were. Who knew hands that were known to brutally fight against evil and maintain justice and peace in the city were so...soft.

Taking your other hand and placing it on his arm, the both of you walk side by side to the front door. As Katsuki rings the doorbell, you squeeze his hand.

"You'll be fine."

You silently nod before hearing the door unlock. As the door swings open, you're met with a man with brunette hair and glasses who looks exactly like your fiancé. Thus, none other than his father, of course.

"Oh, hello!" he says pleasantly with a soft smile. Unraveling yourself from Katsuki's grasp, you reach out to shake. "Hi, Mr..." your brain paused for a moment.

"Bakugo, Mr. Bakugo, dear," he says with a chuckle. Shaking his hand, he gives you a firm shake before letting you go. You smile as you revert to resting your hands at your center.

"Or you could call me Dad, or Mr. Dad—"

"Please, old man," Katsuki groans. This earns a quiet chuckle out of you.

"Please come in," he says awkwardly, motioning you to follow. As you step into the house, you can't help but quietly speak as you feel the warm touch of Katsuki's hand ghosting around your waist.

As the both of you settle in, you can't help but look at every corner of the house. The modern home was everything you thought it would be. Sleek design yet a homey color palette; you wish this was your childhood home.

Your eyes grazed over framed photographs capturing moments of joy from the pro-hero's childhood. A part of you still didn't believe you were seeing the things you were seeing today.

As you move through the house, Katsuki's father engages in casual conversation, sharing anecdotes and stories about their family. The initial nervousness begins to subside as you find yourself being drawn into the easygoing charm of the Bakugo family.

The living room, adorned with plush furniture and warm hues, invites you to take a seat. Katsuki, still by your side, maintains a protective presence that brings a sense of comfort.

"Dinner will be ready soon. Why don't you make yourselves comfortable?" Mr. Bakugo suggests with a warm smile, leaving you and Katsuki alone for a moment.

The two of you find a spot on the couch, and as you sit together, the air is filled with a mix of anticipation and the gentle hum of family life. Katsuki's hand finds yours again, offering silent reassurance amidst the subtle excitement of the evening.

"He's nice," you mumble softly at Katsuki, which earns a humorous scoff from him. "Yeah, he's too nice, maybe he actually took his meds today," the blonde says. You silently mouth an "oh" before looking around the room some more.

Suddenly, you catch a glimpse of Katsuki's mother in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the meal. She also looks just like him; you watch as her eyes match up with yours. Before you could politely bow or smile, her eyes were off of you.

Looking back down into your hands, Katsuki immediately tells that something is off. "Hey, don't mind the old hag; she's just in her feelings." You breathe in, trying to register your emotions and the "old hag" quip.

"Yeah, but I mean, she has every right to act the way she's acting. If I didn't know my son was getting married—let alone had a girlfriend until it's basically time for them to say their vows—I would feel a type of way as well."

Katsuki rolls his eyes as he attempts to place his hand on your thigh. But you turn away from him with a frown. Before the blonde could say anything else, "Mr. Dad" comes walking through.

"Hey, kids, the food is ready," he says with a smile.

You nod before looking back at Katsuki. As the both of you walk towards the dining table, Katsuki pulls out your chair and helps you sit down. As you settle down, you hear a quiet scoff in the distance. Already gathering that scoff was owned by his mother.

Looking down, you stare at the food placed before you. The aroma wafts through the air, and you can't help but smile. "Wow, this looks amazing! I haven't had a home-cooked meal in so long, thank you."

"No need." Looking up, you notice another figure sitting on the opposite side of the table. "Hello, Mrs. Bakugo," you say with a soft bow.

Nothing in return.

Looking over at Katsuki, you could sharpen a dozen kitchen sets with the look he just gave his own mother. The tension in the room becomes palpable, and you find yourself navigating the delicate balance of emotions while trying to enjoy the anticipated family dinner.

As the family gathers around the table, you notice the strained atmosphere between Katsuki and his mother. The unspoken tension hangs in the air, creating an undercurrent that makes you tread carefully with each bite.

You exchange glances with Katsuki, silently acknowledging the situation of family dynamics. Despite the awkwardness, you decide to break the ice by engaging in conversation with Mr. Bakugo.

"So, how did the two of you meet?" he asks. Looking over at Katsuki stuffing his face with rice, you look back over at his father with a bashful smile.

"We met at work; I'm his secretary," you say with a chuckle. Katsuki's dad lets out a chuckle along with you. You also notice that his mother is chuckling too. As she looks into your eyes with a mischievous smile, her eyes glaze over at her husband.

"You know what they say about secretaries…"

"Which is?" you look over at Katsuki, throwing mental daggers at his mother. She swallows her food and chuckles, "I'm just saying! Clearly, you have a type."

"Keep pushin' me; old dirty hag," Katsuki spits venom with every word that comes out of his mouth. Your eyes widen at the vulgarity of the words he chose. Placing your hand above your mouth in shock.

"Or what? Little bastard—"

"Okay!" Mr. Bakugo yells out.

All eyes snap towards him.

"Mitsuki, do you have any other questions for Y/n?" he says anxiously.

A moment of silence passes before she speaks again.

"Where are you from?" she asks.

"I'm from (hometown)," you respond.

"Education?"

"I'm a college graduate in hero analysis and communications."

"How old are you?"

"27, ma'am…28 in (birth month)."

"How many kids are you willing to have with my son?" she suddenly asks. This makes Katsuki and his father choke on their food, sending you aback, and a warmth grows on your cheeks.

"Oh, what? It's not like they haven't had sex before!" she argues.

"Well—"

"Well, what? You're celibate?" She questions; you look over at Katsuki before quietly nodding. "Oh wow, I guess he's really in it for the long haul." Mitsuki sips her drink before going on another brigade of questions for you.

By the end of dinner, things were…okay? You believe you made a good impression on Mr. Bakugo. His mother, on the other hand, was a whole different case.

Soon, you and Katsuki were in the kitchen washing dishes while the older couple sat on the couch to converse. The clinking of dishes serves as a backdrop to the muffled conversation in the living room. The warmth of the water and the shared task provide a brief respite from the earlier intensity.

As you scrub a plate, Katsuki breaks the silence. "Sorry about that, she can be a real pain in the ass."

You look over at him, a small smile playing on your lips. "It's okay, I can handle it. Besides, I'm getting to know your family."

He grumbles in response, his usual tough exterior softening for a moment. The rhythmic sound of washing dishes continues, and you can't help but feel a sense of unity, even in the midst of familial complexities.

"It's not okay; she's never acted like that towards a guest ever, and it's you of all people," he says. You can tell through the tone of his voice that he's genuinely upset. You watch closely as he washes off some scum from a knife with his fingers.

"You didn't deserve that—god, she can be such a bitch—ah, shit!" Katsuki curses as he holds out his finger. He didn't realize, through his fit of anger, that he'd cut his finger.

Your eyes widen at the sight.

"What's going on in there?" You hear Mitsuki yell out.

"K-Katsuki?" You stumble with your words.

"Damn it, sorry," he mumbles.

"I'm fine, there's a first aid kit under the sink."

Quickly grabbing the kit, you come to his aid. Carefully bandaging up his finger. "Katsuki, I promise I've gone through worse. This is only a nib in the bud," you reassure him.

Finishing up the bandage, you place the first aid kit back under the sink. Looking back up at the blonde, you softly smile, placing your hand on his arm before glancing back over.

As you look over, you see Mitsuki staring into your soul, but this time neither of you breaks contact. "Did you guys want to stay for dessert?" Katsuki's father follows up.

The both of you look over at him, and you begin to speak, "Um—"

"Nah, early patrol and an interview tomorrow," Katuski speaks as he sneaks an arm around your waist. "Mm, yeah. That also translates to a lot of paperwork and notes for me," you attempt to make a joke to lighten the air.

This earns a chuckle from the father, "Well, let us lead you out."

As the four of you head towards the door, you watch Katsuki from the corner of your eye get a pat on the back from his father and a thumbs-up, mouthing "I like her" before he slips away from him.

Before leaving, the both of you turn and bow. "It was nice seeing you both for the first time. I hope to come here more often; the food was great."

"Anytime Y/n, the pleasure is ours."

As the both of you turn away hand in hand, you're stopped by a gasp of your wrist. "I'd like to give you a couple of words," says Mitsuki.

"Oh—"

"Whatever you say to her, you can say to me," Katsuki says sternly. His mother rolls her eyes, "Oh, please go to the car; I'm not gonna bite her head off!" She complains.

You give Katsuki an assuring glance before letting him go to the car. Facing his mother, you expect the worst. "Yes?" you say.

She lets out a sigh before she speaks, looking at you with almost a pitiful look. “I don’t know if you’re a good fit for my son yet, but I can tell you care for him. And that’s what matters the most.”

She then places her hand to touch yours, lifts your hand, and observes your ring. "Y'know I was staring at this the whole night? I just can't believe it."

Staring down at the ring, you nod your head in agreement.

"Me either."

I HOPE YOU ALL LIKED IT!! THE FIRST HALF OF THIS BOOK IS COMPLETE! ONLY 6 MORE CHAPTERS LEFT!

— lovelyiida

[dr-spectre]

Talking about Side Order and... Marina. (SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!)

You know, i really enjoyed Side Order, like it wasn't perfect or anything but i had such a blast with it and if they continue to expand on it we could have something REALLY amazing. My reaction to the GOD DAMN TUTORIAL BOSS GOT ME HYPERVENTILATING! IM NOT JOKING! IT WAS SO EXCITING AND SHOCKING!!! THE FINAL BOSS WAS INCREDIBLE TOO! I was singing along to Spectrum Obligato and WHEN THEY BROUGHT IN THE STUFF FROM THE LIVE CONCERT VERSION OF EBB AND FLOW MY JAW DROPPED!!!

However i gotta admit, the story could have been better, what was the deal with the Octoling engineers Marina was talking about? That goes completely nowhere and i thought it was gonna build to something with the repeat playthroughs of the final boss.

And of course, the biggest missed opportunity in my opinion, Marina Agitando.

Now look, i wanna say right off the bat, the design is excellent, it was so smart to bring back her Order outfit and make her into a giant abomination that moves in such a weird way that makes you feel uncomfortable. When i saw her for the very first time when you enter the room, i stood there for at least a solid minute in complete disbelief and shock seeing a giant Marina in some octopus tentacle heart thingy that beats and pumps with the music. The song that plays too "Unconscience" is such a BANGER and honestly it rivals Octo Callie's Bomb Rush Blush remix in my opinion.

The build up for this was pretty good too, seeing Marina say "help me" before she was knocked unconscious and then possessed by Overlorder BROKE ME! I was like "OH NO! ITS HAPPENING AGAIN! NOT MARINA!!" The build up to the 10th floor was so anxiety inducing because you know in the back of your mind that Marina is gonna fight you but you don't know what it's gonna look like, if you were there since Splatoon 2 and have watched Pearl and Marina since the beginning then this build up is even more anxiety inducing and its pretty damn good. And once you free Marina she feels so sorry about what happened and helps you out to put things right, heck she goes through a small character arc of embracing chaos.... but... i have to say...

It is unfortunately not executed that well or with any depth in my opinion because they repeated the whole thing of "oh no a character we know is evil because of (quote on quote) mind control!!!! oh noooo!!" Which is a tired trope in this series that needs to stop or else I'm gonna get REALLYYYYYY pissed off.

I've done enough ranting about Callie's villain arc and how that has been misinterpreted and stuff, but for Marina, i really wish they didn't do the whole "oh no a character is evil because of an evil character oh nooo!! we gotta save them!!" thing again and i wish Marina was more of a villain with a sad motivation for her actions. As much as its cute to see Pearl and Marina act all flirty with each other in Side Order, it kinda ruins the mysterious and dark tone of the story that was teased from the trailers and the tutorial in my opinion. Everything is also explained so quickly early on which really sucks. I really wish Marina was actually conscious throughout her time as Marina Agitando and most of it should have been her fault. She does blame herself for creating Overlorder but it's kinda brushed aside quickly and Marina ends up being totally fine and free of guilt. There isn't enough depth to it which is so lame and a missed opportunity.

Marina is flawed, she makes mistakes and acts emotional and angry sometimes. We have seen a side of Marina where she snaps at Pearl when she loses Splatfests and has shown signs that she still hasn't recovered from her time before she met Pearl.

She picked team Order because she was genuinely scared that her new life would fall apart and she doesn't wanna lose the people (especially Pearl) that she's met and grown to love. Marina is also heavily theorized to be on the autism spectrum and as someone who is autistic, i can see myself in Marina, they could have really explored Marina's psyche and mental health in Side Order but they just... didn't. Instead she's put to sleep and controlled by her ai child and all of the focus is put on stopping it like a traditional "oh no we gotta stop an evil ai!! oh noo!!" story... ugh... I mean Smollusk is cute i guess but there's not a ton to them and they come off as yet another "evil ai that wants order and control!! roarrr!!!"

From reading the most recent interview on Side Order and seeing the concept art, they said that they wanted to tell a story about Marina losing herself to a machine that she created. Could you imagine how tragic it would have been to learn more about Marina and how she's so wrapped up in anxiety that she decides to make this replica of Inkopolis Square and make the Memverse? Maybe at first she makes it to help Sanitized Octolings just like in the dlc, but then maybe due to overwork and burnout (which Pearl mentions in the tutorial by the way), her emotions and anxiety become so strong that she becomes consumed by it, this obsession of order and trying to achieve happiness takes over her and then she gets the idea to spread this order to the real world, where her friends can be "happy" and "safe." Maybe Overlorder is still there but they just whisper to Marina, manipulate and point her in the right direction to continue to her mission of order instead of just fucking knocking her out and using her as a meat puppet for 5 minutes.

Could you imagine how much better the build up would have been to not see Marina until you get to the 30th floor for the first time and you got to unlock her diary entries beforehand? Seeing her thought process and her slow descent into becoming an antagonist. I'm not sure how they would have changed the permanent upgrades but they could have thought of something man. I get that they wanted to subvert expectations but, i think they should have gone WAY further with Marina Agitando.

I was waiting for Pearl and Marina to have their "Tidal Rush" moment where it's this emotional battle between the two, could you imagine how DEVISTATING a remix of Ebb and Flow would have been if it had gotten that "Tidal Rush" type of remix? Pearl singing her parts in this chaotic and emotional way, on the brink of tears trying to get Marina back and calm her down, and Marina trying to fight back against her words, not wanting to believe her because she's so wrapped up trying to make them both happy in her way. She's so caught up in order that she has forgotten what Pearl wants, that Pearl wants to be with her and go against any obstacle that stands in their way together. God i would have cried seeing that I'm not gonna lie. Maybe once Marina starts to think rationally, she breaks free from the machine and then leaps into Pearl's arms, and then we have to go back up the 30 floors to fight Overlorder and we slowly see Marina learn to embrace chaos throughout the floors instead of it just being at the final boss.

I really do feel like Splatoon has this issue of trying to appeal way too hard to kids and being really scared to dive into the flaws of these characters. They are so avoidant of being more serious and they hide it away in optional collectables and obscure posts on social media that creates misinformation and stories that feel way too undeveloped. They just say "oh this character has been brainwashed!!" which is such a lazy and bullshit trope they slap on these characters to avoid getting into their flaws for some stupid reason. (Hell that word has lost all meaning to me now to be honest. Like no, Callie wasn't "brainwashed" per say, hypnosis is not brainwashing or mind control I've said that a trillion times in other blog posts but whatever. Agent 3 was knocked out and had no clue on what was happening. They weren't "brainwashed" they were used as a puppet from a fucking goopy telephone for five minutes while they were asleep. Maybe its poor translation i don't know.)

I know that Splatoon is made for all ages and primarily for children but, i find that to be a stupid excuse for bad storytelling, a good story with depth that's explored and set up properly can be applied to all kinds of age groups not just adults. And the adults that say that shit too, why do you think like that? Why do you wish to dismiss that sort of thing in media? So what if it's made for kids? Adults write these stories and plant themes and arcs into them. Why do you think people cried over the Rosalina storybook in Mario Galaxy and think its the best part of that game? You don't want that kind of stuff in games because "they are made for kids"? Why do you think there are so many adults in the Splatoon community hmm?

I am so worried for Deep Cut in the next game because i really don't want this to happen again, i want an actual proper villain arc for either Frye or Shiver. No hypnosis, no brainwashing, no mind control. Just a pure fucking villain arc caused by the flaws of the characters and without the involvement of a third party. Please, i wanna see growth in these characters that is explored way more clearly and better. Or maybe don't do a villain arc again and just have Deep Cut be fully happy with each other and develop their relationship more with lore and backstory. PLEASE!

Anyways ramble over, thank you for reading!

[blue-rose-soul]

For hazbin hotel au: what would happen she found out at first meeting with alastor and kept it a secret because she didn't know how to process it?

By 'she' I'm guessing you mean Charlie?

I don't think she'd end up keeping the secret for all that long, to be honest. We know how she feels about keeping secrets from loved ones, although she's not nearly as close with Alastor so it's somewhat excusable. I feel like Charlie would still believe she had an obligation to tell the truth though.

I'm also not sure what scenario would allow Charlie to know but not Alastor OR Lucifer. The reason I decided Lucifer was wasted when he hooked up with Nicaise is because Vivienne described Lucifer and Lilith as being deeply in love. Even if some things have changed, I don't think Lucifer would ever intentionally cheat on Lilith. Even if their relationship was an open one, I doubt Lucifer would have knowingly abandoned any kid of his.

So if Lucifer didn't know, I don't see how Charlie would.

Buuuuuuuuuuuut...

Let's say she does figure it out. Not right off the bat, but over time she pieces together some clues from things she's heard Alastor mention offhand and stories Lucifer told her when she was a bit younger, before they stopped talking regularly. She doesn't know what to say to Alastor, so she goes to Vaggie, who doesn't really know how to handle the situation either. But there's one guy who has to have answers, right?

Charlie ends up calling Lucifer earlier than in canon, inviting him to the hotel to talk about 'something important.' Sometime after episode 4 but before the months-long time skip between then and episode 5. Lucifer comes running over, eager to see Charlie for the first time in ages.

He meets Alastor... aaaaaand does NOT make a good first impression. You've seen Dad Beat Dad.

There's no Mimzy to break up the argument this time (she won't show up for another 4-5 months) so Charlie has to stop things before they escalate. Fortunately, reminding Lucifer that she had something important to talk to him about is enough to get him to drop his sniping match with Alastor.

Unfortunately, trying to extract the truth from Lucifer is like pulling a tooth. Charlie keeps trying to subtly poke and prod but Lucifer's only half-listening, distracted, or he gets wrapped up cooing over his 'little girl.' Vaggie's not around to provide backup, since Charlie wanted to speak with Lucifer alone.

Eventually Charlie gets fed up with Lucifer's rambling and snaps, "DAD! Did you cheat on Mom?"

It takes Lucifer a hot minute to process the question.

When he does he's shocked and hurt... and a little afraid.

"Why would you ask that?" he wonders, and Charlie walks him through her mental math. Once in a moment of drunken vulnerability, Alastor let slip that he was conceived at Mardi Gras in New Orleans, in the same year that Lucifer snuck to Earth. And that his father was never in the picture. Lucifer is embarrassed as he admits he doesn't remember the entirety of that night. But surely it's just a coincidence, right? Lots of kids were conceived that night, at that parade.

Charlie tells him that Alastor's mom apparently referred to his father as an 'angel' and suddenly Lucifer's not so sure.

They don't bring it up to Alastor yet. It's still not 100% certain, and Charlie doesn't want to drop that on Alastor's lap in case she turns out to be wrong. But she keeps wondering, picking out the little things she and Alastor and her father have in common. It's MADDENING. On top of which, now Charlie's daddy issues are exacerbated by the revelation that, whether or not Alastor actually is her brother, Lucifer might have strayed when he went up to Earth. She asks him to leave and Alastor's all too happy to sneer at Lucifer on the way out.

The next few months pass as they would have in canon, with Charlie mainly focusing on trying to redeem Angel Dust and Sir Pentious, BUT with one difference. She also spends her time trying to talk to Alastor more about his family and life on Earth. He's not entirely receptive to her questioning. Ultimately he'd rather just forget who he was as a human and embrace being the Radio Demon. But, from time to time, he feeds her tidbits of information that can't really be used against him. After all, if she feels like they're 'close' then he can use that to his advantage. Over time, though, Alastor starts doing his own math, and picks up some hints as to what Charlie's weird behavior is really about.

Lucifer, meanwhile, spends the time doing some digging and trying to figure out whatever became of Nicaise after Mardi Gras, 190x. His research pretty much confirms what he and Charlie had begun to suspect. One solace; it seems like Nicaise went up to Heaven. But Lucifer is devastated to learn that she left behind a 10-12 year old child when she did.

[semiweirdshipper]

Killers' reactions to a reader who's pants were pulled down while they were on a hook. (Part one).

Michael

He heard you scream a second time a few seconds after hooking you, and he suspiciously turned around to see you struggling to cover your vividly exposed crotch. Ace and Nea giggled loudly just behind some bushes to the right. They must have been the ones who did this.

Whenever you noticed his lingering gaze, Michael didn't like the way you flinched in horror, your body shaking as you cried in embarrassment and fear. Honestly, what a sucky thing to do to someone who was literally about to die.

Since they were here, Michael marched over to the unsuspecting survivors, immediately sliced open Ace's back and reached out for Nea's throat. With Nea dead on the ground and Ace perched on a hook, he went back to you.

You wouldn't look at him as one hand covered your face and the other lay splayed over your crotch, whimpers and cries endlessly filling the atmosphere. You looked miserable.

Sliding his knife in his pocket, Michael bent down, startling you as his bloody hands grabbed the edges of your pants and swiftly pulled them up over your hips. Then he casually stepped back, taking in your gasp and the look of utter shock and gratitude on your face. Hmp...

Michael's smirk was hidden behind his mask as he turned away. Maybe he'd give that last survivor some time to pull you off the hook before ending this trial.

Jeffrey

He was in the midst of chasing Feng when he lost her behind some pillars. Then he heard a loud, defensive shout and raised a brow as he followed the trail that led to the exact spot you were hooked, and...

"Well hot damn," Jeffrey's eyes went wide as he stared down at your exposed crotch. You shrieked in surprise at his presence and quickly reached down to cover yourself, your face flushed and body trembling in humiliation.

Smirking with a chuckle, Jeffrey took a few steps forward and shamelessly continued to look at you, "So was you survivors being naughty little things, or are you just tryin' to show off?"

As you painfully turned your flustered face as far off to the side as you possibly could, whimpering in a mixture of fear and embarrassment, Jeffrey heard laughter and turned to see Feng and Meg high-five each other in victory before sprinting away.

"Aw hell," Jeffrey chuckled, amused by the whole charade as he moved forward and reached down to yank your pants up. "Ain't nothin' worth gettin' all embarrassed about."

Grinning once he was done, Jeffrey looked right into your flustered, shocked eyes, his voice becoming a seductive whisper as he lifted sir-cuts-a-lot and languidly licked the dull edge, "Anyone ever tell ya I'm good at usin' my mouth?"

As you bashfully keened in embarrassment, Jeffrey patted your head and took off, eager to see if the survivors would conjure another pants prank.

Herman

Using his static blast, Herman had expected that you would have been pulled from the hook by the time he returned to capture your friends, but... Apparently not.

Whenever Herman arrived on scene, there were no other survivors to be found, but you... You were in a struggle- your limbs thrashing around and your mouth hung open in a panic as you fought to pull up your pants and underwear, and when you finally noticed him, you screamed in terror.

Unlatching his mouth straps, Herman set his bat down and walked up to you, "How did this happen?"

You were sobbing into one of your hands while covering your privates with the other, "D-David."

Good grief. Herman sighed, dissatisfied by this display of disrespect and ill mannerism. You were a mess too, crying and shaking and trying to hide yourself from him, vulnerable, humiliated and exposed. "Do I have your permission 'to'?" He kept his glowing eyes on yours, mindlessly gesturing to your nether regions.

"Please..." You sputter, desperately trying to hide yourself away.

"Hold still," Herman stepped up to you and reached down to carefully pull your pants up, even going so far as to refasten the button, "There."

"Thank you," You whimpered gratefully, roughly wiping at your messy eyes and face.

"Here," Herman pulled out a folded handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to you, "My apologies for the blood."

And then he took his leave, off to get you revenge on David.

Bubba

There are survivors he does and doesn't enjoy hooking. You're one of the ones he doesn't enjoy hooking, and when he goes back to check if you're okay after unleashing an alarming scream, he ends up squealing in disbelief and horror.

Your pants were down thus flashing him with your delicate privates. Ahhhhhhh! He practically wailed, embarrassed, ashamed and utterly perplexed. Why were your pants down? Why? He covered his face, calming only when he heard your frantic cries-

"I'm sorry! I-I'm sorry. They pulled my pants down. I'm sorry. I just wanna die..."

At the sound of your confession, Bubba sprinted off and easily caught Meg, forcing her back to the hook and dropping her in front of you. Whilst keeping his eyes averted, he squealed and chirped loudly while gesturing from her to you, making frantic 'pull-up' motions with his hands.

"A-are you serious? You want 'me' to pull up their stupid-"

Bubba squealed, lifting his hammer in warning. Meg flinched and quickly went to roughly yank your pants up, cursing at you under her breath. After she pulled you off the hook, Bubba smashed her upside the head with his hammer and then rushed over to you.

Brisk and gently he patted your shaking shoulders, trying to reassure you and see if you were okay. "Th-thank you," You nodded, and he smiled in relief, hugging you fast and then going to hook the traitor.

Frank

He was circling back whenever he thought he heard footsteps, caught off guard by the sounds of laughter and frantic protests. As he went inside the building, he flinched and covered his eyes at the sight of your exposed crotch.

"Jesus, what the hell?" He snapped aggressively, "Why the fuck are your pants down?"

In the background, Frank heard maniacal laugher and searched around to find Kate and Élodie making lewd gestures above the stairs, obviously mocking you and him both. Those obnoxious mother-mmm...

At the sight of his clenching fists, the two pranksters fled leaving Frank stewing in a pit of anger and embarrassment. You weren't faring much better by the sound of your terrified whimpers and humiliated cries. Dammit...

"Uh... I-um..." Frank rubbed his neck while awkwardly approaching you, his gaze averted, "If you let me, I'll uh... Look, just give me your stupid permission and I'll pull your pants up, alright?"

"Ok," Came your ghostly whisper.

Taking in a deep breath, Frank was grateful that his mask covered his heated face as he shyly stopped in front of you, unable to keep from checking you out as he grabbed your pants and swiftly pulled them up to your hips. "Those sorry bitches are gonna pay..." He swore.

Stepping back, he was overwhelmed by your brutal sniffles and anxious sobs, and couldn't help himself when he said, "Quit crying. I'm gonna get them back, alright?"

And then he turned and rushed away before the urge to comfort you more shined through, or the growing warmth in his own pants... Stupid fucking survivors...

Caleb

He saw it happen from a distance. Nea walked right up to you, tore your pants down and laughed directly in your face as you struggled and cried to cover yourself. What disrespectful nonsense.

As the prankster ran away at his approach, Caleb stopped by your hook and lingered in place, his brows raised as he took in your stance. "Gotta admit... Them vultures put on a helluva damn show," He snickered, "Can't say I ain't impressed."

You keened in embarrassment, looking up at him and then flinching as you fought to keep your crotch covered and face averted. He chuckled at your obvious shyness and slowly walked forward, saying teasingly, "Ya know, we could make a trade off. Ya show me yirs, an' I'll show ya mine."

As you made adorable little noises of horror, shock and bashfullness, Caleb chuckled and lowered his gun, "I'm jus' messin' with ya, sugar. Now, ya want me to do the honors here?"

Taking in your fast nods, Caleb took his time bending down, whistling loudly as he grabbed your pants and slowly pulled them back up. You were hiding behind your hands, looking absolutely adorable.

"Gotta say, sugar," He mumbled beside your ear, "I wouldn't mind seein' another show like this again."

As you whined in shy embarrassment, Caleb chuckled fondly and took off.

[genericpuff]

alright so this is a post I've been wanting to write up for a little while now, but I was waiting on permission from a third party to post DM's (censored, of course). That permission has since returned with a yes, soooo

LET'S TALK ABOUT RACHEL'S HIRING PROCESSES-

okay this isn't gonna be as comprehensive as I'm making it sound BUT I've mentioned before on this page (albeit briefly and it's long since been buried) that I actually applied to be a background artist for Rachel a couple years ago, I think it was around the midpoint of S2, and it was (obviously) before I turned to the dark side of crit-n-shit-posting. I never got an email back, so that was that. I'd like to think there's a parallel universe out there where instead of joining the antiLO/ULO community, I became an assistant for Rachel and remained a fan. Enjoy that fridge horror thought.

That said, while I didn't get a response, someone on reddit mentioned that they did:

And they were kind enough to share further details with me in DM's.

Right off the bat, I'm fairly certain they were applying to the same ad I was (as it was a posting that Rachel had made on Twiter and the approximate years line up).

All that aside, considering what Rachel's process is like with her assistants (from what we've discussed here in GREAT detail), it's not shocking in the slightest that the vibe of working with Rachel from the very beginning was "IDK what I'm looking for".

Buuut that's not the end of the exchange because it gets better.

Mind you, this was back in 2019 and it was the experience of one user, so it doesn't necessarily reflect every assistant on the team or how Rachel does things down to the last detail. But it's pretty damning enough that you can still see the evidence of this kind of workflow in current LO 4 years later. If anything she's continued to operate with a rapidly declining pipeline because the art just keeps getting worse and worse.

Part me of wants to say that this could be on Webtoons, as they don't offer support to creators to have assistants. Creators have to pay for their assistants completely out of pocket, split from the income they make from Webtoons. This is why so many creators often don't have assistants or their 'assistants' are also their co-creators (see: Nevermore, which is drawn and written by two people working together).

But Rachel has an average of four assistants per episode, sometimes as many as eight in some cases (though it's been a while since that's happened so I won't really count it for this post).

That means Rachel's team is typically made up of five people, including herself, and that's not including the recent addition of copy editors (but that balances out with the times when Amy Kim isn't contributing , she tends to pop in and out).

Now, she's not the only person on WT with a team of this size, there are others with comparable teams if not bigger ones, but NONE of them seem to operate with as much inconsistency as LO does, and that's not on the assistants, that's on Rachel. She's said in interviews that she always wanted to be a director and that making LO on Webtoons was her way of achieving that, but she doesn't seem to have the integrity or leadership skills necessary to take charge when the team isn't working in sync. You don't see any of these insane art art inconsistencies in webtoons like The Kiss Bet or Tower of God (though they have their own problems, the art isn't one of them), and there are webtoons operating without a team at all that are drawing circles around LO right now, like Nevermore (which is, by the way, also edited by Bre Boswell, same as LO).

Now, that's not to say there isn't struggling underneath the surface, the creators of Nevermore have stated how difficult it is to work for Webtoons as it is, especially as creators who don't have assistants. But how is the #1 comic on the platform failing to meet the standards that come with its labels and awards? Why are the exceptionally better comics being drawn by 1-2 people not getting the attention or opportunities they deserve from the platform? And why does Rachel Smythe, one of the highest paid creators on the platform, still seem to struggle with managing a team of artists after five years of publication on Webtoons? Why does she choose to have a large team if she can't pay them adequately? Why have a large team at all if she's not going to utilize their skills properly? To further lighten the load of work onto others?

Really, it just goes to show the lack of care and respect all around - for the self, for the work, and for those who are pushing out the work and meeting the deadlines, whose reputations and potential are being dragged down with the comic itself.