#but i played it regardless because i was like “but what if its one of those scary media that hit close to home and i enjoy”

[alieinthemorning]

Deepest, Darkest, Purest Love [Sylus] 

Content: World Underneath: Sealed in Dust Spoilers, Sylus Story Speculation, Angst, Soft Sylus, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

Sylus…was an enigma to you. After the Nest, the forced resonating, and being told that he wanted to achieve his goal, he needed you to like him in some capacity. Now, you’ve ended up here in one of his many safe houses, wrapped in his arms on the couch while some movie played. Domestic bliss as its finest, but how did you end up here? You knew that it wasn’t just him playing with your feelings while you hopelessly fell for it. No…you knew that his feelings for you were real. His actions and words, although not always obvious, were always clear in the intentions. 

“You know very well that I adore you. There is no love purer than mine.”

Despite how you acted toward him, or tried to deceive yourself. You knew you loved him. You loved this man something fierce. And honestly? 

It scared you—terrified you.

You understood that you and Sylus shared a past. One of your many pasts, over your many deaths. Unfortunately, you couldn’t remember much (not that you think you ever could). Since EVER had gotten their hands on you and the Aether Core, memories come up spotty and painful. You want to remember, you really do, but it doesn’t seem like you have an actual say in the matter. But from what you can remember…you’ve both died…many, many times. Pitted against each other for some reason or other, then forced to become close—fall in love, just to do it all over again—Oh.

Oh.

“You know very well that I adore you. There is no love purer than mine.”

You were pitted against each other for the Aether core. That’s what wants to devour him—this damned Aether Core. 

“Sweetie?” His thumb brushed against your under eye, catching the wetness there. “Why are you crying?” 

“I’m sorry!” You wail into his chest. “I’m so sorry for hurting you!”

“I’ve told you before that it was my fault for pushing you—” He grunted as you shoved away from him, shaking your head violently. 

“I’m talking about before! Way back when—I still don’t remember it all, but I know that I hurt you, so—” You looked up at him, tears caressing your waterline. “How can you love me so deeply?” 

“I’ve told you this once, and I’ll tell you as many times as you need.” He smiled, and you break. 

“You know very well that I adore you. There is no love purer than mine.”

You know, and you hate yourself for selfishly enveloping yourself in that love. 

A love you do not deserve. 

I was trying to do Soft Sylus, which! for the two lines that he speaks, he is in fact soft, so I'm counting it! But it ended up as angst regardless lol.

Now, let's get into what might be his Myth or one of his many pasts with you. I think that the two of you were pitted against each other for the Aether Core. Whoever the hell had y'all fighting wanted to make one of you stronger, and having one kill the other for the core seemed a lot more fun than just choosing one. But! I don't think it worked, y'all got tired of fighting and choose not to take arms when it was time, which not the best idea because you'd be punished, but hey, it did eventually get the message through to them. However, they took another approach, which was getting the two of you closer, so when they did pit you two against each other again, one of you would have to throw your life down for the other, and in this case…it was Sylus.

At least! That's what I'm thinking lol. Just a little theory!

I'm on Bluesky btw~

Ko-Fi | Masterlist

[chronicsyd]

Caitlyn and Ambessa's Game of Cat and Mouse pt 5- "Don't Underestimate Ambessa"

Here is where Vi and Caitlyn put their plan to trick Ambessa into motion. Now the thing is, is that they've already underestimated Ambessa before the full plan is even put into fruition.

Right after Ambessa says, "Well done, Caitlyn" she looks over to Rictus who nods and leaves. To me, that's a silent request, "keep an eye on her." she's already suspected that with Vi back in the picture whatsoever that Caitlyn's become "distracted" as she puts it. despite the two doing some pretty top tier acting (btw Caitlyn was totally into Vi spitting on her don't lie); when Singed is ready to go, Ambessa silently tells Caitlyn to go with him, but having sent Rictus out first, means that he's been watching Caitlyn as the two carry their plan out.

She then goes on this whole speech to thank Vi for leaving in the first place, because with really the only voice of reason in Cait's life gone, Ambessa saw that she could easily manipulate her however she liked (or so she thought). So with Vi back in the picture, and her making "too many complications", Ambessa's plan here was just to kill Vi. Regardless if the two were carrying out a plan against her. After Vi says, "she's not distracted" you see a smirk on Ambessa's face, she does believe this, she thinks that Caitlyn has fully gotten over Vi and her loyalty to Ambessa hasn't wavered.

But then Vi keeps talking. and you can see that Ambessa's face grows with suspicion as Vi continues to do so.

After Vi says, "Just shut the fuck up." Ambessa looks over towards Caitlyn's gun, she realizes that the net compartment is empty, and that Caitlyn left it that way when she left. she realizes that she's been played, and tries to kill Vi, but its too little too late for that because Vi's able to take her out.

Now something I haven't seen people mentioning is that when Vi says "Vander's in trouble. I have a plan, you're not gonna like it." she's actually talking to Jinx here. Jinx doesn't shoot Caitlyn not Just because she sees Caitlyn take out Singed, because it's apart of their plan. What Jinx isn't gonna like is that she's not allowed to shoot Caitlyn, she's supposed to be Caitlyn's Backup if anything happens to her.

And something does. Because Ambessa sent Rictus out earlier he saw Caitlyn take out Singed, that she betrayed Ambessa. when he says "Ambessa believed in you." it seems to me that Ambessa thought that she had Caitlyn's loyalty the whole time, which was rather stupid of her. And he tries to kill her, which is why Jinx takes action.

After Jayce kills Victor and causes Warwick to lose control again, killing Rictus, Caitlyn realizes that she's made Ambessa lose both her coveted weapon, And Rictus. And realizes that she's been caught doing so, which is why she turns in shock to see Ambessa.

The look that Ambessa gives her is a look of disbelief before turning into one of pure unbridled rage.

Caitlyn's both won and lost their game of cat and mouse. because while she temporarily stopped Ambessa, but it seems that in the next Act she's working with Singed to resurrect Warwick, and that a lot of her soldiers look to be hyped on Shimmer when they attack Piltover.

So with ALL this outta the way, let's talk about Vi and Caitlyn's argument to come in the next Act:

The way they're framing it in the trailer, it makes it look like that Vi's accusing her of just sitting there and taking whatever Ambessa's said to her, considering what Vi's been told by Ambessa in ep 6, "She oinked poison in your ear and you just ate it." and Caitlyn scream of "I know!" makes it seem like Caitlyn's agreeing with Vi that Caitlyn just let Ambessa do all that, that she was just blindly following Ambessa and letting her do whatever she wanted.

But if everything I'M saying is correct, it seems like the "I know!" statement is going to more-so shed light on the fact that Caitlyn fully knew what Ambessa was about. and tried in her own way to take her down just wasn't able to fully do anything of merit until Vi came along. Which is a better defense for her, and Might calm Vi's anger down a little bit (still needs to apologize for hitting her though).

Ambessa's whole downfall was picking Caitlyn to begin with. Why? Few reasons. 1) She's a detective, she notices things that people miss on the regular, it's how she noticed the corruption happening under the Councils noses back in S1. 2) She's a politicians daughter, she's been around powerful and corrupt people her entire life, so she's learned a thing or two about manipulating people/situations to her will. 3) Most importantly, she's recently been exposed to people like Silco and Marcus, so that's made her weary of people more in general, and it's how she caught onto Ambessa's bullshit so quickly.

The thing is, I think if she picked Salo instead, Caitlyn would have probably still been suspicious of her anyways, just probably would have been able to be more under the radar trying to figure her out.

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

Anyway, I've decided I will no longer answer questions that are just "hey what about this media over here, how about its designs?" Because I do not have the time, energy, or motivation to explore media I don't already know beyond whatever I can find in a quick internet search/wiki skim, which means I cannot truly go in depth on any of it.

My commentary on that post about good guy creature design vs bad guy creature design has gotten under the skin of some wings of fire fans it seems and I'm just gonna say: I do not care. I don't. I'm sure I would have loved this series when I was 12-18, but I'm not anymore and I have no interest in it. The designs of the dragons are not bad, they just use some cliche visual tropes. When the wiki shows me that one particular type of design looks more animalistic and permanently angry than all the others and says they're slavers who tried a genocide, I think that's evidence enough that regardless of how the story plays out and how many individuals of that species have more nuanced arcs, the intention of the design is to make a reader say "ah these dragons are Bad", perhaps even with the intention of surprising you by then having some of them be not bad, in a very standard subversion of expectation. It's fine. Enjoy it if you love it, I'm not trying to drag your beloved dragon series through the mud. I'm just an adult on the internet running a blog about fantasy design and there is a lot of media i will never interact with outside of people telling me to critique it.

So now I'm just not going to do that anymore. I kinda get tired of seeing a pile of "what about this media!" asks in my inbox anyway, and the more my posts get noticed outside my followers, the more likely it is that fans of the media I'm asked to critique will decide to be mad at me for my opinions on the purely visual aspects of their favorite thing.

I will continue to answer requests for advice in design creation, reblogging other people's advice, and answering questions about broader topics like worldbuilding and stuff. But I'm deleting any questions asking me to critique designs from any fandom. Sorry.

[jaal-ama-daravv]

Apologies if you have discussed this before and I just missed it, but how do you feel about an unromanced Emmrich ending up with Strife?

I haven’t experienced that world state, so I don’t know much about it, but I am speculating about the intensity of their relationship. Is it another casual thing that Emmrich is no stranger to, or is Strife the love of his life…the love he’s been waiting for.

Are there any hints about Emmrich’s struggles with mortality or lichdom with Strife?

I’m very curious about it and can’t help but feel it takes away from the relationship with Rook a little. I feel like it fits Emmrich’s character more to be one of the companions who doesn’t end up with anyone if he doesn’t get with Rook.

Thoughts?

I've experienced it on my Lucanis playthrough and I don't get the feeling that Strife is the love of his life like Rook would be. It comes accross more casual and comfortable. I don't see Emmrich having those arguments with Strife about death and being scared. And I'm not saying that because they are similar in age, I actually don't think age plays a role here there if it was between Strife x Emmrich. I think an argument like that just wouldn't ocurr because the connection wasn't that deep.

It's implied in the cutscenes that Emmrich courted Strife with a knife gift, chose a date spot at the waterfall, and they boned. It continues as a relationship but I don't see nor feel it being that deep. It just feels like comfort for Emmrich in a trying time. Keep in mind he does tell us during our date in the Memorial Gardens that he hasnt seen 'anyone serious' in several years, but its inferred he still has flings. It can be interpretted as either way, but regardless Emmrich is still capable of flings. Regardless if it's not what he truly desires.

Additionally, I don't see it as the love of his life connection because Emmrich doesn't take Strife to see his parents, or the date in the Memorial Gardens. Instead Emmrich takes him on a date to a place that Strife is comfortable in, not Emmrich. Emmrich's vulnerable in the Memorial Gardens, his favourite place in Thedas.

I doubt Emmrich asked Strife what he thinks his parents would think is best for him in terms of romance and life.

I do agree, where I feel like it fits his character more to end up alone if he didn't romance Rook considering his personal quests have two majorly different implications. I was just glad to find out that Emmrich didn't end up with Bellara. Like, I know there's nothing 'technically' wrong with it. But the thought just rubs me the wrong way. My entire first playthrough, I was like, I'm gonna blow up if I hear one flirt dialogue between them. But I was glad that the devs didnt even consider that and their entire 16minutes of dialogue banter is literally just nerds geeking out over magic.

[elifinchsart]

Part of me is still so utterly baffled by Caps breakdown of an instrucutal because like… yeah that’s certainly SOMETHING innit? I chose to believe that it’s better to not take it too literal and that it’s mostly the result of him making a video while having a complete meltdown and just going nuts.

All of this is my convoluted way of saying „I think the meat is symbolic and not… what one may assume it is.“ (Would also explain how he Apperantly could make burgers several times and not just be…. Swiss cheese himself)

HOWEVER, your poll just made me realize how absolutely darkly humorous it would be if he in fact does serve himself up on a platter to Inspekta ESPECIALLY if Inspekta doesn’t know.

Just… imagine the fucking awkward, horrible conversation with Hector that may arrive just in case he ever asks for „The recipipy for dose taistey burgies you used ta make for me. What even wuz that meat?“ „….“ „Cappy?“ „….“ „Cap?“ „…nn.“ „Cap? W-What was that meat?“ Visible sweating. „WHAT WAS THAT MEAT CAP?!?“

Well regardless of if you think Capochin is literally serving Inspekta his own heart on a platter it's definitely also allegorical and symbolic! Capo's figuratively cutting his own heart out to prove his devotion in a desperate attempt for approval and to feel like he's useful and matters. All of his love and attention is going to Inspekta and he's nearly blocked everything else out. We know that he also knows deep down that what he's doing to the Grove is wrong and that he has lots of doubts and fears- but he's heartless now and doesn't care who gets hurt or dies in the process. If he just cuts it out he doesn't have to think about it and he doesn't have to realize how poorly he's been treating others or how poorly he is being treated himself. Or at least that's my interpretation of it. So is it literal at all too? I lean towards yes on this one too but I have no clue if it is or not. We do see the actual blue meat and the whole thing is pretty surreal already- an actual puppet’s not going to have meat in it. But the whole game leans into cartoon logic for things so I think it's possible for Capo to be doing this and still be functioning- I imagine it just grows back because of his own love and emotions continuing to grow. Heart is a renewable resource! At the end of the day though please come up with your own conclusions and interps! I'm just having fun playing in the possibility space and I think its fun if the meat is real but it's fine if you don't! AND YEAH the conversation would be uh. AWFUL for both of them to have but very juicy (haha) for character beats and development. and also kinda funny to me. SO I like to think about it.

[majimaisms]

(im rly wary of coming across as like, rude or something, so forgive me if that's the case, im also enjoying this conversation and i mean no slight by my disagreements)

it never really occurred to me that the mechanics of majima everywhere could be described as kiryu seeking majima out, but i suppose it does become that after a certain point for players who want to unlock dragon style. i also dont know how much of player intent can be ascribed to kiryu, because eventually you do as a player figure out the mechanics of how to make majima appear -- or disappear -- depending on what you wanna do. but that is its own (fascinating) conversation on the nature of "canon" in video games. regardless, i would say that still, mechanically, and for most players (not that # of players means anything here really), you Are jumped by majima. and so i would say majima's obsession takes place in both the narrative And the mechanics, and that kiryu is not "obsessed" with him at all. he's intrigued at best, but he's the immovable object to majima's unstoppable force

i will say though that i prefer to rely on the narrative for my analysis because i can't account for player differences and still arrive at a coherent analysis. but of course, thats not the point of every analysis. i admit im somewhat stuck in trying to clear everything up for myself and reach a definitive conclusion, find clear cut answers to my questions before i can go asking new ones. i would say that that has been the driving force for my obsession with majima specifically, but i understand the need for and value in different approaches to analysis, and i dont want to cut you off from asking interesting questions

with that caveat, i Will say that even if we look entirely at the narrative, it is "canon" that kiryu masters dragon style, meaning it's canon that he completed majima everywhere. but its not until the very end of the majima everywhere plotline that he actually wants to fight majima. so that to me tells me he's not seeking him out until then. he has his guard up all the time, but he's in a defensive position, not actively luring him out. he'll agree to fight him as part of a "performance" (breaker majima)

but he doesn't like fighting because he's angry, which majima has been pushing him to do. in fact majima says that part of the whole point of this was to wake up the sleeping dragon, Because kiryu wont seek him out, and won't fight him even when he does provoke kiryu.

i can talk about this for like. pages and pages though so again i wont go into it here

as for the homoeroticism and overexaggerated sexuality, i do think it's fully part of the act and that majima's enjoyment of fighting is like. deeply wholesome. it's like playing to him, he genuinely has a fun time doing it, it's a bond building activity

this is even acknowledged and alluded to in y0

majima and saejima also fight in y5, though they do it because they're forced to, but it was never about saejima establishing his strength to majima in y4. it was about majima accepting punishment, because hes been blaming himself for 25 years. i also would be surprised if majima doesn't make up excuses to fight saejima, or if they don't do it as a natural way of communication (the way you see kaito and yagami fight in judgment, for example, despite being friends. it's a way to resolve conflict and disagreements over pretty much anything, even though it's definitely not yagami's preferred method.) we're shown so little of their dynamic, so i don't know that we can say for sure that fighting isn't a part of their dynamic. there's actually an rggo story about it and it's referenced in y4 that makes me think majima is just. like this with

thing is, majima is Lonely. especially in the absence of saejima. and he's trying to fill that hole. it's not just like, physical loneliness, like not having friends to hang out with, it's about his social circle being so different from him. he's not understood, his principles aren't shared, there's not enough people he respects around him. not enough allies. and he's hiding behind the excuse of "getting the dragon of dojima back to his old strength" to spend time with kiryu -- someone who reminds him of saejima. yes, a saejima replacement is not all that kiryu is, but he is drawn to him for the same reasons.

re: kiryu showing him respect, i do agree that kiryu treats him more like a normal person than probably anyone else around majima, but even kiryu doesn't truly understand him. he just trusts him. and he's very fond of majima, but that's different from "obsession", which is how majima presents his fondness. present being the operative word here

saejima understands him though. which is what majima craves, i think. so yes, absolutely, 100% that is a huge part of what makes kiryu someone he wants to be close to, or can be close to, but even that is to sort of. fill the hole left by saejima

this is not to say that kiryu has no value to majima outside of being Replacement Saejima, that's not at all what i'm trying to say here. i'm just saying that the qualities that draw him to kiryu are also the qualities that draw him to saejima, which is their willpower and unwavering stance against cynicism in the face of. everything. they're inspirational for majima, they're his heroes really

as for y0, yes, it's 100% because of his love for saejima. he's trying to climb the ranks so that he's a worthy opponent to saejima when he gets out of prison. here's what the guy who did majima's localization had to say about it

he also fully thought that saejima was going to kill him. and accepted that. so, to be exact, his reason for enduring torture and sagawa and y0 and going back to the clan despite all that, was, so that he could give saejima the opportunity to kill him, and have that be a valuable achievement for saejima. so he needs to build a name for himself. he needs status.

so like. yes he's been doing all of That (his life between 1985-2011). to die. lol. normal guy btw !

yeah i bet

[xxplastic-cubexx]

bro the feminine wiles aren’t even a joke like. im with that anon who thought hellfire gala charles was a woman when they first saw him bc same, that design is insaaaane (/pos). how could u not think that when u see it lmfao. idk whose choice it was to give him a corset but the hourglass figure + female coded jawline combo do not lie. i saw it on pinterest and i was like ohhh don’t lie to me i know an anime girl when i see one- WAIT PROFESSOR X????

and that’s not even to mention movieverse charles ofc. we’ve all seen james mcavoy and his big sparkly kawaii anime eyes, i shouldn’t have to say it. charles xavier is never beating the allegations, i fear

gonna need this ask hung in the louvre i fear

[bitchfitch]

I've started playing Potion Permit, and so far it's one of my favorite games I've messed around with, but the most big brained move the devs made was giving you a dog on day 1, and then making that dog able to track NPCs and lead you directly to them no matter where they are in the town.

[sidesteppostinghours]

pulps law is that whenever i get insane enough about something, i will inevitably attempt to make a persona 5 au, regardless of whether or not i am successful at it.

[235uranium]

there's a lot to say about how house md treats women but I will say the show lets the women be way more complicated than some shows today

like yall still aren't ready for cameron

[thedrotter]

sweet sweet re:kinder community... I would like to ask y'all how you came upon the game and your experiences with it because i wanna know. im genuinely so curious to hear about other people's experiences and little opinions about this game because of how wild the game is (/pos) I'd love to hear it. do ramble to me about it

[chipjrwibignaturals]

part of me wants to post something to r/nostupidquestions but unfortunately that requires me to use reddit. sad!

[robotpussy]

hm the diversity everybody seems to be ok with (all white cast and a token) is what forced diversity actually is, not when the best person for a lead role just so happens to not be white/mostly not white cast but we all know what people mean by "forced diversity" so I'm not gonna lament too much anymore

[olde-scratch]

really is nothing quite like learning the possums in your area are brave enough to try to turn and hiss at your dog instead of playing dead at the sight of them

[oozeclown]

the trans baristas are so nice at the capital one cafe i brought my free coffee card and he just let me keep it to use it again

[acid-ixx]

ch.2: again &. again (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)

directory: preq, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four

read until the end for an author's note.

*"XX/XX/XXXX, entry no. 13.

i hate everything. i hate my family. i hate my father, i hate my brothers, i hate my classmates, i hate alfred, i hate this place, i hate my mom, i hate everyone.

why can't i ever get what i wanted? what do i have to do? i tried so hard to be everything for them, but why do i only amount to nothing? it's been a year, or two, i don't know. it hurts trying to remember when was the last time i saw him. saw, not talk, because he never talks to me, bruce never even looks at me. and i hate myself for trying to get him to look at me.

is he disgusted at me? does he see my mother in me? does he hate me that much? i don't know, i don't want to know, it hurts to know. i don't know why i'm trying anymore, i don't know how longer i can last in this hell. i can feel it, the longer i stay here, the more i lose a part of myself. i don't want to be here.

i don't want to pray anymore.

so if there's any god out there watching over me, then i wish for you to burn, to suffer, to go through the same thing i have been experiencing for years— all for putting me in this place. i would've been fine living in the streets with my mother. i would've been alright providing for our small family, i would've known to never get my hopes high, but you took her away from me!—

i hate you."

"master (name), are you awake? dinner is ready."

you had to shut your diary at the sound of the knock and alfred's voice.

"alfr-"

a cough, hoarse and croaky, cuts you out from calling his name. it was accompanied by uncontrollable sniffles, mucus blocking your nose from breathing properly. your room was dark, save for the lamp that lights up your bedside, where you currently were seated on your bed to write another entry, grip on your pen unknowingly harsh. you didn't even have to look at your reflection from your phone laying beside the diary to know that hiding your tears were fruitless.

salty were the crystalline droplets that streaks your face, but bitter were the emotions that had your heart ache.

you hear a sigh from the other room. before he could muster a reply, you beat him to it.

"i'm not eating dinner, alfred," you hate hearing your voice, sounding so obviously scrathy from the hours of wailing. "at least not with them. i don't want to get out at all."

"then may i at least bring them over to you, master (name)?"

his answer was final, you have no choice on retaliating and starving yourself like you did for the past few days. but it wasn't your fault that you had forgotten your body's needs. it wasn't your fault that your mind blanks itself out on the dinner table. it wasn't your fault that bile quickly crawls up your throat at hearing their voices.

you simply lost your appetite seeing them happy without you.

alfred pennyworth would never play favorite.

it was drilled into his head ever since he had sworn to serve the wayne family and its extended members— he is to serve anyone and everyone, regardless if they respect him or they do not; as long as they do not pose any danger within the manor, then he is to attend to them.

you'd think that in his decades of service for the wayne's - with all the contrasting personalities he had to deal with - he would maintain professional standards and tell everybody in the world, "i, of course, do not favor anyone within the family, i live to serve and that is truth." when in fact, he wouldn't hesistate to admit that he does, in actuality, have a favorite.

and no, it wouldn't be the eldest child, dick grayson, as much as he is alfred's pride and joy, nor would it be the youngest, damian wayne, who had been slowly correcting his mistakes. it wouldn't even be the head of the house, master bruce.

it would be you, (name) wayne, the infamous, yet forgetten child of the wayne family.

it wouldn't be a far fetch for alfred to admit that you weren't like the others. in all of the years that he served the wayne's, you were a contrast of the family.

the first few hours that he had picked you up from the police department upon the news of bruce's secret child, he knew you were more than just a child raised by the brutal streets of gotham.

you pose secrets that speak of the underground.

he remembers your seated form on the stiff chair of the interrogation room, pose unnervingly straight, as if you had solidified yourself against the metal seat. your fingers were the only signs that showed life, twiddling with each other as if it's some form of distraction.

you stared at nothing.

not even at the police as your name was called for pick up.

it took merely a signature of confirmation to dictate the future years of your life.

what's left of your belongings were given to alfred. the police officer, a woman with a kind smile then had to walk across the interrogation table to pat your back, gesturing for you to stand up and follow her and alfred on the way outside of the station, where the car was parked.

you hadn't uttered a word nor snapped out of your dreamlike gaze. not even when you were greeted with a thousand clicks of the cameras, the buzzing crowd that drowns the police station, or the hundreds of voices that yell at you to look at them.

(name) (last name), now formally adopted by bruce wayne, would be (name) wayne. it wouldn't be a shock that your sudden appearance as the child of a scandalous relationship between a prostitute and a billionaire would cause immense reactions. news would be spreading left and right, most of which were negative on your side.

he had to shield you from the crowd of photographers and journalists itching their way to the crowd to get a glance on you.

yet you didn't display any discomfort. you had only sat on the car obediently, fastening your seatbelts robotically and ignoring the lenses that unsettlingly tried to poke through the car windows to take pictures of you.

you were more like batman than you were bruce.

alfred had tried to get you communicate with questions like, "how are you over there, master (name)?" yet you would only mumble unintelligible responses to his questions without any ounce of emotion. he had to look at the rear view mirror to take in your stiff form. again, your eyes were set on nothing, even if they were casted down on the carpeted floorboards of the car.

when he had first met bruce, that child was overflowing with anger and vengeance for his parent's killer, yet you, who refused to explain your mother's disappearance, are devoid of anything.

the silence was defeaning throughout the ride. the only comfort that was provided was the rain that began to patter against the glass windows.

alfred throught you would retain the same behavior the entire day.

yet it was only when you first walked up the steps of the manor did your demeanor change, fingers immediately reaching up to hold the cuffs of his sleeves, pulling it as if you were hesitant to step in.

the first emotion you had shown him was concern, like a switch had flickered you out of your trance. it was the first time in a while that alfred had to do a double take to check if what was happening was real.

"can you... hold my hand?" and it was the first time he had heard you speak, voice unnaturally scratchy from the lack of water. you stared at him with wide, doe eyes that refused to blink, waiting for answers. alfred had to gaze at your entire body to finally notice that you were covered head to toe in sloppy bandages with blood seeping through the grime-filled gauze. your shoes were worn, your clothes were ripped, and other uncovered scars littered your body.

the most conspicuous color on your shirt was crimson red.

yet you do not display pain.

a child, five years of age, had been through more than enough anguish to know how to block their pain out.

you were unlike the rest, truly, you were unwavering of the world's cruelty.

the world does not deserve someone like you.

alfred takes it in himself to always hold your hand after that.

through the mansion doors, inside the kitchen, on your way to school; whenever and wherever, as long as he had time.

even if it were filled with scars and bruises, dirt and grime, he will always hold your hand if it meant guiding you through the darkness of the manor.

you may not consider yourself bruce's child, but you will always be alfred's.

another knock on your door had you snapping out of your trance. time passed by so quickly in the manor. well, it does when you have nothing to do but stare at your diary, draw on your sketchbook or scroll through your phone. yet time would always be the quickest whenever you drown in your own misery.

"come in," you croak out, aware that it would only be alfred who would come by your room. it was long ago since you had given up on awaiting for dick's visits.

a turn of the knob, then the door swings quietly; the hinges creak, you need them oiled sooner. alfred walks in, you notice he holds a tray that contains two cupcakes and a plate of your favorite dish, but you don't notice the small box with a bow hidden skillfully from the back of the tray. from over your seat, you could already smell the aromatic herbs that flutter in the room and see the colorful frosting from both cupcakes; an already lit candle sticking in from one.

the candle at least provides just a split second of light inside your dim room; the moonlight just like your family, absent.

alfred graciously places the tray on your nightstand, on the left of your diary. your room was still too silent.

you could only hear yourself.

"master (name), are you simply going to sit there and stare? or would you rather i spoonfeed you like i had when you had broken your wrist?"

you blink it out again, oblivious to your very own hyperawareness. alfred's still here. you hope that, in the presence of darkness, he wouldn't see just how much of a mess you are. how your hands could barely grip onto anything, hair unwashed, face stained with tears, difficulty breathing through the buildup of mucus, foot tapping up and down erratically— you wished he would pretend to be blind about your suffering for just this once.

"no—" came your sudden reply, "i can- yeah, i can eat by myself."

it's harder to lie to yourself than it is to others.

he looks at you with doubt, it makes you shiver.

despite you wishing for company inside the manor, you could never be used to attention. it would never be normal for someone like you. though, you wish it was. you wish you never hesitated when someone gives you attention.

you hear your mattress creak, there's a dip on your bed. alfred sits beside you, only then did you realize just how quickly you lean into his side, craving for warmth in the solace of your empty room.

everything hurts, it truly does.

you wish you were strong enough to cease the sudden burst of tears when his one hand circles your shoulder and the other holds the cupcake with a candle near your face. and you wish that you weren't so weak in the presence of another, trying to find a semblance of your worth in their attention.

you at least try to stifle your sobs—

"happy birthday, master (name)."

— but you were always weak, yet alfred never seems to mind, patting your back to console you from your wailing.

you blow the fire out with a single promise to yourself, crying a bit more when alfred had given you a gift box, laced with a ribbon of your favorite color.

it was one of the few gifts you would cherish, fondness seeping into the cracks of your heart.

though it wouldn't erase the bitterness that fills your being either way, knowing your family is still downstairs, unaware of the anguish the torment that they have put you through— it's still enough to let you hate alfred a little less.

"alfred?"

it was your meek voice, one that was always drowned out by the sound of the dishes clanking.

"yes, master (name)?" yet alfred could always strain out the sound of anything just to hear your talk. after all, you were a silent kid throughout your childhood.

"—if i move out of this place; would promise you wouldn't forget about me?"

... (name) wayne was full of surpises.

even at the ripe age of seventeen, and in the near fourteen years of raising you, alfred could never predict your words nor your actions.

you had always said things spontaneously, carrying an aura of awkwardness in your tone, reminiscent of someone who had their personal growth (moreover their social life) stunted.

but now, with the way you had said your resolve so confidently, it felt like he was looking at a different version of you; all the more confident and resilient.

except... you were behind him when you had said that - so he wasn't really looking at you - eating the first batch of his cookies whilst he was polishing the dishes with a cloth.

when he had turned around to look at you, though, you were still the socially inept child he knows and love, sitting on the breakfast bar and twirling around the stool as you attempt to not get crumbs everywhere. you were still so young in his eyes.

it's just, the way you had looked at him expectedly like you needed his approval that shocked him. it was always your eyes that had expressed the most emotions, glazing with anticipation for his response.

he knows it when you lie, and right now, you were dead serious in your resolve.

alfred had to relax the crease on his brows before he ages faster than he already is.

"well, master (name)," he continues, turning back to wiping the dishes clean before he could fully face you. "i would fully support you in your... journey, but what warranted you to be suddenly motivated on moving out?"

alfred had finished setting aside the dishes, but he still doesn't look back.

"i mean, i thought i already told you? i have a scholarship for college but it's on the other side of gotham and...

— i kind of don't want to be chauffeured by a limo around the campus everyday, you know? so the next best thing is to get a dorm."

alfred knows it when you lie. and right now, your hesitance tells him everything he needs to know.

you may have proved a point, but that point was an entire lie. with a person name wayne flaunting across a city whilst riding a limousine, you might find yourself into more trouble than anything else.

but he had always been the one to pick you up and drop you off from elementary and halfway through your highschool life— and you never seemed to mind until now.

it doesn't take a genius to know that you had already deviced a full plan of moving out and taken it into action; all you had to do was confront the only man in the manor who had cared about you enough to raise you about your worries.

it wasn't enough to convince him to let you go, though, especially not right after an incident that had occured prior to you highschool life. if he allows you to gain independence in gotham, he wouldn't know how long you would last.

but when he looks back at you again, he couldn't bring it in himself to oppose to your whims. you need a new environment; one that provides you a way to gain independence and, most preferably, social skills. staying cooped up in a manor with barely anybody talking to you does more harm than good.

and being ignored by your own family for almost fourteen years wouldn't be a great way to celebrate your already nearing eighteenth birthday.

alfred doesn't want to admit it, but if he keeps you here any longer, you would never grow up. one person could only do so much.

he whips out a sigh, looking at you with resignation in his eyes. but you know it in yourself that he swears his life on the promise.

"master (name)," he walks over to you, eyes darting at the cookie crumbs that litter around your mouth making a note to scold you on your manner later. he sits directly in front of you, hand patting your head as you merely stare at him expectedly.

"i have raised you for almost fourteen years, it's like you are my very own child. i would never forget you." he takes your hands in his. "but you have to also promise me to stay safe out there, master (name). call me once you're there."

alfred would find a way to get you to come back eventually, even if it meant utilizing your family's neglect, which was primarily the reason why you had moved out on the first place.

he just hopes you wouldn't connect the dots and pin the blame on him once you're back and safe in the manor.

and now, it had only been months since you had gotten away from the manor. he was proud of your development, of your choice and overall, you, but he wouldn't lie and say he doesn't miss you.

he misses hearing your voice directly, the line on the phone being too blotchy to properly hear you. he misses it when he would sit on your bed as your only audience whilst he watches you paint on your canvases, drawling on and on about highschool's latest drama. he misses it when you would always be the first to taste his dishes, face lighting up whenever the food was seasoned up; now he has to constantly remind you to eat a nutritious diet, even offering to send you money whenever you mention you were short on it.

in the good of your heart, you would always decline, even going as far to deny him of any liberty to track you down and bring you a meal himself.

alfred misses you.

does he regret allowing you your freedom? not really, no. but he knows it in himself that a greedy part of him prefers it if you were would visit the manor occasionally during your vacations, at least to bond with him. but you simply chose not to, even going as far to legally change your name once you had become eighteen so you wouldn't be associated with your father's last name.

but that wouldn't erase the past you had tried to meticulously cover.

(name) wayne may have been a name forcefully deleted off of the face of the internet, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its conspiracies of its own. nobody knows who you are beyond the blurry, unsolicited pictures of you. it may have been a photograph of your back, or articles published in unknown websites and buried at the far end about a kid leaving a police station and entering through the fancy gates of the wayne manor.

and most importantly, you are a product of a one-night-stand.

but they don't know who the mother is, don't know your age, or where you come from, and what business bruce has with the woman to guarantee your adoption at the instance she had disappeared without warning.

your existence was a mystery most would like to solve. after all, it was your picture that was plastered all over the newspapers and articles, it was your name that journalists whisper and it was a silhouette of your face that the underground knows by heart. every known information about you was shared discretely yet efficiently like some sort of virus.

you were a target for interest, a large sum of money if they will. and alfred had taken it in his hands to make sure there would never be a repeat of what had happened before.

it was a clumsy mistake, one that cost you your memories, and one he swears on his life he'll never make again.

the first course of action he needs to arrange, which may seem difficult for most; he needs to confront bruce.

after all, your freedom is your doom.

the wayne manor, in all its glory, could only be described as this palace overflowing his its abundant history and fame.

it was a castle that houses a boy who had lost his parents and became gotham's very own vigilante who stalks through the night to lessen the very evil that devours its citizens. it was the training grounds where the robins, sidekicks dressed in colorful attire, opposite to batman, were raised to be worthy enough to stand by the dark knight's side. but most importantly, it was a home for troubled children who were in their journey of their very own personal struggles.

yet even in its exterior splendour, it would always be innately overcome with loneliness.

for someone like bruce wayne, he embraces this desolation just as he embraces his alter-ego, batman, who wears a suit of black and dons an aura that demanded fear.

even if he carries the persona of 'brucie wayne' a ditsy, playboy who enjoys galas and sleeping with women every other night, he prefers solitude over the sea of interviewers who throng around him like he was a piece of meat.

it would be the only time he could focus on his countless of stacked paperworks to sign and his plans to ransack another criminal's master plan.

before winter could cover gotham in its sheet of pure, white coldness, rain would always terrorize the skies. he finds this the perfect atmosphere; dark grey clouds prevent the sun from peaking through, droplets of rain would pelt against the vast windows that surrounds his study, and there was enough background noise to block out any sounds that would pass through the door.

bruce wayne was focused on his work, and that meant disturbance wasn't allowed inside the manor. thankfully, it was a quiet, uneventful afternoon today.

in fact, it was all too abnormally quiet.

his scarred hands work through signing papers effiently and effortlessly, practiced fingers signing papers after he would meticulously scan over the paragraphs of texts that scale from business deals to partnerships to buying a piece of land. then later, once the moon rises, he would have to patrol with damian and disrupt another drug trade that had been recently dealing with children on the alleys of gotham.

that means he has to sign or reject at least half of the papers before evening falls through, so he could have alfred send them over through the post office tomorrow morning.

he was at least a quarter way through his work, though, when his flow was disrupted by a courteous knock by the mahogany doors.

he didn't have to look up or ask who it was, knowing it was alfred, his butler.

"master bruce, i have your tea ready, along with news to bare," bruce could hear the tone of urgency and a tinge of sullenness in alfred's voice. it was rare for alfred to be emotionally distressed, as he was typically the most composed out of everyone in the family.

"come on in, alfred," bruce's vocal chords were gruff, raspy whenever he's too engrossed in whatever he was doing.

but he was piqued at the news alfred was eager to share, the butler expertly turning the knob and entering with a tray that holds a hot serving of tea.

bruce stopped signing the papers, putting down his pen as he watches alfred, composed as always, place the tray down on his desk, not a single clank that was produced from the metal sheets. he watches as alfred reflexively pours him a cup of tea.

it was only after that action that the two share eye contact, alfred stationing himself to the right of bruce's desk.

if he wasn't a detective, he wouldn't have noticed the furrow of alfred's brows, which was uncharacteristic of the composed butler.

he reckons he should address the elephant in the room.

"what is it that you want to tell me, alfred?" bruce swivels his chair to face alfred, fingers tapping the mahogany desk rhythmically.

"master bruce, i figured you should have known this for quite a long time ago, but your third child had moved out on their own and now lives at the opposite side of gotham. right now, they may have been struggling to make ends meet."

huh?

"what do you mean, alfred? you're aware that tim is currently living in the manor—"

"no, master, i am talking about your third, not fourth child; master (name)."

... (name)?

ah, his... other child.

alfred looks at his seated form, expecting the befuddled reaction from bruce.

it doesn't take long for bruce to recover from his thoughts, eyebrows furrowed the same way as alfred as he leans against his chair.

"and what of (name)? why was i not updated about them?"

alfred had to stifle a groan as he then glares at bruce with what he could suppose was exasperation.

"i had already told you about their leave months ago, master bruce. you had simply waved me off whenever the topic is of master (name)." the butler's glare hardened, reminiscent of the times where bruce was scolded as a child. and like a child, he doesn't know what he had done wrong.

"i feel it is time for you to take it into your hands to deal with master (name)'s situation right now. i do not have access to their location and just like you, they are stubborn and refuse to accept any financial aid that comes to them in any form—"

to make matters worse, alfred had the gall to stop midway into his explanation, sighing and blinking unnervingly which catches more than bruce's attention.

"they would rather not admit it, but if they were to fail to pay for this month's rent of their apartment, they would get evicted from their very own living space."

at pretty much the last sentence, bruce's gaze hardened. not at alfred, no, but at the thought of you; his... forgotten child. if it was money that you need, why had you not ask for any allowance in the first place? bruce would admit that, well, it had been too long since he had last seen your face, nor even... remember it—

but you were still a child of his and he wouldn't deny you of an allowance if it meant persuing your... highschool or college dreams...?

shit, what grade are you in?

why didn't he know you moved out in the first place? wait—

"alfred, how long has it been since they had last moved out?"

"roughly six or seven months ago, master."

"ah, but having a place of your own as a minor would be prohibited by law."

"master bruce, they're eighteen. they're old enough to live in their own apartment."

eighteen years old...? how long had it been since he had last seen or heard of you? if what alfred had said was true, that the butler had attempted to reach out to him about you, then why had he not remember in the first place? you were a quiet kid, sure, but for someone like bruce, people would always not be overlooked.

it wasn't in him to easily forget, but he hates how he couldn't muster up a single memory of your face— not even your hair color nor your eyes. did you even... exist in his eyes? there was not a single memory of you that he could come up in his head.

his child was eighteen now, how could he not have known in the first place? how could he not recollect a single birthday of yours? or any celebration or gala that had you in it?

alfred's sigh snapped him out of his trance once more.

bruce looked up, seeing resignation upon alfred's face. he simply stood there, posture straight as always, but bruce couldn't wash away the shame that cages his heart when there was not a single image of you that pops up in his mind— alfred's disappointment merely worsened

the tea in his desk had long since gone untouched, but bruce couldn't bring it in himself to drink a single drop of it, even if his lips were dried and his throat was begging for even a single droplet of water.

he denies himself of any relief.

"i figure i should leave you in your own, master bruce, to at least compose yourself before nightfall. please do take your child into consideration, though, enough time has passed since you have last seen them." alfred states, as if it was a matter of fact. and it was, bruce should've known about your leave, as your father and as the man who took you in, he should've.

so before the butler could even take a step, bruce hastily stands up from his seat, pen long since discarded on his desk and a quarter of the papers are now messily stacked upon each other, but bruce pays them no mind.

"take me to (name)'s room right now, i need to see things for myself."

if bruce couldn't even remember a single instance of you, then maybe a trip to your room would be enough for him to remember.

but if that doesn't work then... bruce would a find a way, he always would.

and as your father, he needs to at least support you, even financial no matter your stubbornness? even if the shame he feels right now is so immensely disturbing, and the migraine is quickly finding its way into his head— he needs to know more about you, his actual third child.

bruce wayne needs to see your face just once.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: 5k+ words. no beta, we die like jason todd with a crowbar. my least favorite part of writing the chapter is literally starting it. i had at least 5 drafts all lined up and it took me an hour in the bed to think about how should i start it. i literally hope you guys enjoy the chapter hehe, and start to yk, notice the patterns and the parallels between your perspective and bruce's perspective bec ur literally his child, u guys share some habits even if u never once talked to him lmao. the most emotionally draining scene was writing the birthday scene, i had to take breaks from typing it out hehe. bruce's descent to yandere-ism isn't as quick as dick's but it would be worst in the next chapter.

also, i hope you guys are able to notice the bad habits that the reader eventually collects because it's important for the next chapters. it would be better if anyone of u could... point them out in my asks or comments, i love rambling about it yk, and a lot of you are absolutely brilliant in making theories that are absolutely right. anyways, i hope u enjoy this chapter because this was one hell of a ride for me and i appreciate all the reblogs and comments despite me not replying to a lot of yall but u guys truly are my motivation so thank u lots :(((<33!

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