#now i just need to draw gordon

[cicadidae-tm9899]

i did a couple more doodles of the bbg <3 <3 <3 i really am in love with him....

[the-first-spinjitzu-master]

3am doodles of some goofy little train faces :)

[heirofnepeta]

i hate when i get incredibly fixated on something in the middle of the night because i CAN research it and i CAN talk to my friends about it but IM SO FUCKING SLEEPU GODDAMN THE PERSON WHO DECIDED TO KEEP ME U-oh. wait.

[daiikonlegs]

leave her alone / leave her alone / leave her alone / please, because / my mom needs you gone / my mom needs you gone / as long as she is haunted / she'll never get strong / my mom needs you gone (my mom, kimya dawson)

[devilfic]

omg we need more of the honeymoon shot bruce and reader,, maybe a one bed trope if it’s not too much to ask no pressure obv!!<3

❝honeymoon❞

II. marriage bed.

parts: previously / next plot: the in-laws are in town. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: arranged marriage, friends to enemies to (fake) lovers, implied history between reader and bruce, only one bed trope. words: 1.6k.

"I'm sorry" feels numb to say at this point. You still say it, standing at the foot of what should have been your marriage bed. It's been a long night and you'd wrung your hands of dish soap until your family practically barked at you to get to bed, to get back to your husband.

You can still hear them, cackling downstairs in the living room while your nieces and nephews tumble through the hallway. It must feel alien to have your childhood home, long devoid of familial joy, be suddenly bursting full of it. And have none of it mean anything to you.

Bruce stands shoulder to shoulder with you for a few more beats. Then he walks to the door, and you watch him twist the lock with a firm click. Your heart picks up a bit.

His steps are muted on the carpet and you take in his shoulders, the rolling hills of muscles in his back, and the pants that cling to the divots of his hip bones. The black cashmere is a gift from your mother, something preferable to his "ratty" sweats. He didn't like these very much.

Since you'd started living here, you caught glimpses of him like this. A heavy shadow of a man skulking in the darkness, waiting for you to leave for work before revealing himself. Rarely would you find yourselves crossing paths in the kitchen or catching eyes in the living room. And with each fleeting glance, he would escape elsewhere, receding into the tower the way a frightened cat might hide from strangers. Intruders. Funnily enough, you found avoiding eye contact helped that.

But now there was nowhere to run. Your family was here for the holidays and they were in every room. Eyes everywhere.

"Do you need to work tonight?" You'd started calling it that: "work". It made sense around the family (not so much your mother), and it didn't put him on edge when you skirted around the "B" word. "I can help you get downstairs."

He's half-turned to you, waiting on his side of the bed, so you can see the way his face scrunches up at a thought, "Gordon... told me to take time off. For family."

You snort, "You told him the in-laws were in town?"

"Yes."

You blink, "Oh."

Bruce had told you that between you and Alfred, no one else knew who Batman was. The lieutenant, trusted friend and ally as he were, had yet to join the ranks of your prestigious little club. It felt wrong to be in it when he wasn't; you'd forced yourself into it, and Bruce didn't even trust you.

You round the bed opposite to Bruce, and staring across it at him felt like staring across an ocean—he was so far away. You wondered how many people had shared this bed with him. How many he trusted as little as you.

You understand that the Bruce you remember was still a boy, grieving much differently than he is now, and had liked you just a little bit more.

You're the first to draw back the covers.

Bruce watches you settle in before following suit, reluctant, as if he were still wondering about the cons of sleeping in his car tonight. The weight of the bed dramatically shifts and you glide against the silk to his side when he lays down, your hand going for his upper arm to steady yourself. He jolts at the contact, staring you down like a deer in headlights.

Your second sorry of the night spills from your lips, and you squirm away from the warmth of his side and back to the edge of the bed.

You both lay like that for a while, side by side, neither of you particularly comfortable.

"Why didn't you say no?"

His question rocks the stillness in the air. You almost jolt. You turn your head and ask, as casually as you are able, "Say no to what?"

"The marriage."

Ah. "You've met my mother. It's hard to say no to her. Isn't that why you're in this situation in the first place?"

He remains looking up at the ceiling, but you see his jaw constrict, "The you I knew had a backbone."

He means it to hurt. Reminders of your youth together had not softened with time, it seemed, even if he treated you like a distant memory. You don't muster up the courage to bite back at him. Instead, you tuck your tail and keep the mist from gathering in your eyes, "...Yeah."

He doesn't seem to have expected that response. He finally turns his head to look at you, visibly confused. For a few moments, the two of you just stare at each other. Him, analyzing. You... mourning. "Is this what you wanted?"

It's becoming harder to hold back tears, "Not this. Not with her pulling all the strings. Regardless of what you think about me, or my mother, or my family, I didn't want any of this. I don't... want to be your enemy, Bruce."

You want so badly for him to believe you. You've never wanted anything more than for him to see you honestly, transparently, except perhaps to see him the same. To not have to fight.

He's about to say something when the doorknob wriggles, followed by a tentative knock. The two of you sit up and listen for who could be at the door, until a small voice calls your name through the wood, "My niece." You say, rigid. "She must be lost." You go to stand but to your surprise, Bruce is already at the door letting her in.

She stands at just about his knee, blanket clutched in her chubby arms and mouth hidden by the purple fleece. She has to turn her head all the way up to look him in the eyes, "Uncle Bruce," she says through a lisp, "where's the bathroom?"

You can't fully see Bruce's reaction from the bed. From the side, you watch his shoulders sag and his cheek rise in what you think is... a smile.

Very slowly, he comes to a crouch in front of her, "The bathroom?" He asks. She nods an affirmative. "Why didn't you ask Grandpa Alfred? He knows where everything is."

Her eyes dart to the side, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, "...Grandpa Alfred is scary."

Bruce laughs, actually laughs. He hasn't laughed around you. Hasn't managed more than a smile today, and only to placate your mother. He's warmer too, more open. You watch him. Mesmerized. "He is a little scary, isn't he? But I promise, he's really nice if you get to know him." Your niece doesn't seem so convinced. A moment passes as Bruce thinks of what to say, "How about I come with you to go ask him?"

Her eyes light up, "Really?"

"Really."

Bruce holds out his arms to her, and though she's reluctant, you watch her tumble into them with arms thrown around his neck. He hops back to his feet with her perched on his hip like she weighs nothing—and she probably does, to him—and asks her in a hushed voice if she's holding on tight.

Her little head turns to look at you over his shoulder and he follows, his smile weakening some.

You almost ask if she'd like you to come with, but think better of it. In the time it would take Bruce to complete this task, you could try to fall asleep. Maybe then it'd be easier on him to share the bed with you, "Go with Uncle Bruce. Maybe Grandpa Alfred will show you the fancy swords if you're brave enough to ask."

Your niece beams, urging Bruce to take her to him this instant, and they disappear out of sight.

You're half conscious when Bruce returns and shuts the door, but there is no click of the lock to follow after.

With your back turned, all you have to tell you where he is in the room are his small sighs. He's on his side, closer than you expected him to be so quickly, and you curse the carpet that hides his footfalls. You keep your breaths measured, pretending you're fully asleep, and wait for him to climb in.

One knee presses into the mattress, then the other, and you quickly remember the problem with this bed.

He's just laid on his side when you go sliding backwards, feeling your body collide with his chest. You force your eyes to stay closed but you are chilled with mortification. Should you move? Give up the facade of sleep and scramble for the other side of the bed? Would he shove you away?

You wait for his heavy hand to fall on your back, but... nothing. Seconds crawl forward at a snail's pace. You can feel the heat of his hand hovering over your hip where your night shirt had ridden up, but he never touches you. You take slow, deep breaths. You wait for him to wake you, then, if he won't shove you.

But that also never comes. The tips of his fingers lightly brush the skin of your hip, and then disappear. You feel his arm wiggle between the both of you, feel him shift a bit on the mattress, but nothing more. He doesn't push you away. Doesn't call your name. Doesn't shake you until you're forced to crawl to the other side.

He gets comfortable. Stiff, but comfortable, and he doesn't move you. You wonder, as the heat of his chest makes you conscious of your heart beating quicker, if it's too late to crawl back on your own.

You wait for what feels like hours contemplating it. So long, it feels like he might've fallen asleep behind you. So long, that you melt into his side of the mattress. So long, that sleep comes and morning soon after before you could even make up your mind.

[greeniegirl23]

Radio Babies 1#: How They Act When They Are Sick 🤕

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Welcome to the first (not really) chapter of the Radio Babies series!! And yes that's the name because I am both corny and lazy so hahaha.

For those of you who don't know, this is the official kick off chapter following the same mood as my "Alastor As A Father" scenarios. Despite it being called "Radio Babies" not every chapter I write about will be them actually being babies. Just making that clear...

And we have names for these kiddos! From now on the daughter is named Evelyn or Eve for short, while her brother is named Alphonse or Ali for short.

I hope you enjoy the chapters I'm planning to cook up and add to this series, but if you guys come up with something you want me to write about these two, I absolutely can! I enjoy being given prompts, so don't hesitate to comment or even send an ask requesting something.

Now that the intro is done, on with the chapter!

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It all started when Alphonse came home from school with a cough. You thought nothing of it and gave him some tea with honey to soothe him.

Three days later, Alphonse and Evelyn are blowing their noses until they turn red. Finally you checked their temperatures and found that sure enough, they both had fevers. Immediately you panicked. It was rare for someone to get sick in Hell because of the hot temperatures making it next to impossible for germs to exist, but after having a doctor check them out, he assured you it was just the flu and that they would be fine as long as you took care of them.

When you told Alastor about this, he literally went right back out the door and ran to the nearby apothecary. After an hour he returned home with comically large grocery bags, filled to the brim with things that looked funny and smelled weird. Wasting no time, Alastor asked for your assistance as he rolled up his sleeves and pulled out his Mother's old school tricks that were ingrained in his mind after years of her care.

“Here darling,” He said, handing you a bunch of spices. “Place those in the pot and let them boil for a while, when your finished please grab me a pair of socks from each of our patients. I'm going to cut these onions up in the meantime.”

“What do you need socks for?” You asked, completely unaware of his foreign methods from the south.

He smiled sweetly, yet you could still see a hint of mischief in his eyes. “You'll see shortly, however I'm very sure that our little fawns will absolutely despise it.”

Soon enough, everything was finished and Alastor was ready to knock this sickness out of the ballpark. Calling his children down stairs, Alastor got straight to work. Every remedy he could think of, he gave them.

Ice packs on their heads? Check. Onions in socks to draw out the fever? Check. Homemade chicken soup for nutrition? Check. Tea with honey to soothe the throat? Check. Lemon candy with fresh herbs? Yep! He even had them inhale steam from bowls of hot water with cloths on their heads to break up the mucus.

Just as he predicted, your children immediately started whining, groaning, and moaning. Complaining about everything except for the soup since Alastor’s cooking was enough to make Gordon Ramsay cry.

Evelyn, your sweet baby girl absolutely despised the feeling of the onions in her socks as she walked around the house when needed. Even going so far as to hiss at Alastor when it was time to change them out.

Her brother, Alphonse was no better. Your poor boy was ready to submerge himself in an ice bath in order to stop the perfused sweating that he was generating from being forced to inhale steam with a bunch of random plants he couldn't even name.

“Thou will pay for this Father..!” Eve growled, struggling against the tendrils that were restraining her while your husband struggled against your preteen. “Get these filthy filths OfF oF mE!!”

“Ah-ah! No lip Little Miss,” He replied, finally getting one of the socks over her hoove. “Your mother and I worked hard to make these remedies all in an effort to aid you and your brother, which means that you will wear tHe daMn sOcks ChiLd…”

“Language!” You scolded him. He snapped his head towards you with an irritated twitch in his eye. “Oh, but she gets to curse me out in Shakespearean?!”

“Mama!” Alphonse whined. “Please make him stop, we live in Hell but I feel like I'm actually burning alive!!”

You sighed. “I'm sorry Sweetie, but I trust your Dad enough to believe that he knows what he's doing. As long as you do the same, I'm sure you'll be better in no time.” A simultaneous groan left your children as they continue doing what their father demanded of them. Even though Alastor didnt walk away from Eve without a scratch or two.

For the next few days Alastor put them on a schedule that ran like clockwork. From food, to tea, to even taking medicine of his own creation. This man was playing no games with the infection that dared to sicken his little bambi’s.

They tried to seek you out for comfort, coming to you with enough complaints to fill a small notebook. Alastor put a stop to that real quick though, giving them a stern look when they tried to pull your heartstrings via puppy eyes and toddler-like crying. He hated being so cruel to them he really did, but he had to since their health was on the line. He remembered when he'd do the same with his mother only for her to send him right back to bed.

On day three, Al and Eve were much much better. Your husband's chest puffed up with pride as the little ones returned back to their normal ways and you forced both of them to thank their Dad for all his hard work.

However, that pride turned bittersweet as Alastor came down with the flu that same weekend. You felt bad for him as he laid in bed like a wet noodle, all stuffy and congested. Fussing like a baby about this interfering with his work.

He didn't have to worry long, because you reminded him that he had three personal nurses by his side and that as long as they were around, he'd be in good hands.

[redhoodobsessed]

Diagnosis is...

Jason Todd x Reader

This one is kind of weird i just thought it would be funny and it spiraled from there. You meet your boyfriends family at a very bad time. TW: vomiting, Pregnancy

Jason always took you to the Manor when his family wasn't home. The only member who you were well acquainted with was Alfred and Duke. Even after being together for a year and moving with eachother he wasn't ready for you to meet his family. Truthfully he was worried they would be... too much.

Jason sat you down gently on his bed in his old bedroom.

"You really didn't need to carry me here from the cave I'm not that sick" you sighed as he tucked you into the bed.

"Sure but I wanted to." He went to kiss your lips but you pulled back

"Trust me lover boy you do not want to kiss these lips"

He chuckled and kissed you on the cheek instead "I'll be back at five ok?"

You nodded waiting for him to leave before running to his bathroom and vomiting.

After 10 minutes you went looking around. He only ever took you to the manor when no one else was around but Alfred. But this time even he wasn't here. Bruce was on some big undercover mission in another country basically the enormous amounts of people who were usually here weren't except for Jason and Duke who were taking over the nightly patrol in Gotham. This was perfect for your mission.

You searched every bathroom and medicine cabinet you could find surely in a house this big which was home to the billionaire playboy had to have at least one. You could swear you'd been looking for hours practically torn apart the entire mansion when you heard a sympathic sounding voice say. "Looking for something?"

You turned around to see a redheaded green eyed woman in a wheelchair. Barbara Gordon.

"Uh uhm Sprite?" Definitely not a great answer if you were trying to deceive a world renowned cyber detective who caught you pulling apart her boyfriends medicine cabinet. But she humored you and took you to the kitchen.

"Why sprite?" She said

"The acid from Lemons are neutralising which help relieve nausea. They give it to people in outpatient after things like wisdom tooth extraction at the hospital. Also I don't like lemonade."

"Right, Jason said you weren't feeling well. What are the symptoms?" She was absolutely probing you for information. She saw the frantically thrown about flu medicine and pain killers, you were looking for something specific.

you weren't planning on spilling everything to a complete stranger but you had to tell someone or you would probably go crazy. "Well nausea, slight headache, swollen feet and breasts, late menstruation cycle I would say patient diagnosis would be-"

"Pregnancy" she interrupted her face completely bewildered. Jason Todd got a girl pregnant.

"About 2 to 3 weeks along but I can't know for sure without-"

"A pregnancy test" she interrupted again.

"I would rather go to the Doctor and get a blood test but Jason and I just moved in together and I only realised I was late yesterday."

"We can do a blood test! Downstairs in the cave right now" Barbara immediately started heading to the elevator to the cave.

"That will take a while you don't have a regular pregnancy test here?"

She thought for a second "I don't think so."

So you went down to do the test you were surprised they had every blood test known to man "you know an at home pregnancy test only takes two minutes" you say as you draw your own blood you needed to practice anyway.

"Well we could watch a movie? It's only two hours."

"Yeah only" you sighed and Barbara finished the rest of the process now all you had to do was wait for the results. Your heart almost stopped when you heard the roar of a motorcycle enter the cave thinking it might be Jason.

"It's just the Batgirls their mission ended early." Barbara said pulling up the live security footage of the runway and leaving it up. You almost collapsed from relief.

"Hey Babs! Who's this?" The purple Batgirl said as she took off her Cowl revealing her blonde hair and chipper smile.

"I uhm I'm Y/n"

"Oh Jason's girlfriend! You're sick right?" She glanced over at the screen the blood test now almost halfway done. "What's a HCG test?"

Barbara minimised the window and looked at you as you tried to formulate a lie but it was too late. The other batgirl who must be Cassandra signed something to Stephanie.

"No way!" Her face was in utter disbelief and god you wished Jason had just left you in the apartment. This was not how you wanted to meet his family.

"It's probably nothing it could be anything really." You really wanted to believe that. You wanted to believe it was something crazy rare.

"Like what?" Stephanie said with full curiosity. She definitely didn't seem to realise the invasive nature of that question until Cassandra put a hand on her shoulder. "Right well good luck with that Cass and I are gonna train for a bit."

"Don't worry you can trust them" Barbara's words gave little comfort. Your face was red with embarrassment its not that you didn't trust them it's that you just met them. Their first impression of their brothers girlfriend is that she could be pregnant.

It wasn't long before you heard people talking from the staircase "TIMOTHY BERNIE!"Stephanie yelled "What are you doing here?!"

"Well I was showing Bernard the mansion and i thought id take him to see the cave too i need to check up on a blood test of a rat i found scarecrow experimenting on too. Hey! Are you Y/n?" Tim asked shaking your hand.

You were relieved at the fact that he would be the first family member to not also be wondering whether or not you were pregnant. "It's nice to meet you. Jason talks about you a lot."

"He talks about all of you too I think he's been a bit nervous for us to meet."

"So was Tim. I'm Bernard, Tim's boyfriend" you had been so relieved and distracted by normal conversation without any indication of any possible pregnancy that you didn't see Tim looking at the computers in the med bay.

"Uh who ordered the HCG? Was it an accident or...?"

"HCG? I meant to do a CRP! damn well now I'll know if I'm pregnant or not." At least Stephanie was good at improv

"But this says its y/n's?" Tim said skeptical of the whole situation

"What?! I must of mixed up our blood" ok so she might not win an Oscar but you could work with this.

"Oh yeah I was practicing drawing blood sometimes they have us do it on other med students and if you don't practice uh it's embarrassing." You were definitely not winning an Oscar.

"Right." He was definitely unconvinced. But his angel of a boyfriend noticed your nervous face and came to your rescue.

"Happens to the best of us." He has a very warm and comforting smile Tim has good taste in men.

As time went on your stomach started to churn and you laid back on a medical bed. There was the loud hum of a jet engine and huge doors opening up above you. "Uhh please not Bruce Wayne"

"Bruce Wayne" everyone except Bernard seemed to say in unison "and the results are in."

"I don't want to know" you didnt want this to be such a big deal you didn't want so many people to know and you certainly didn't want Jason's whole family to know before he did.

"Ah miss Y/n I see you've met more of the family" Alfred said walking down from where ever the Jet was parked above you.

"It's been a pleasure" you say truly not wanting to sound rude they had all been very kind to you their timing is just so so poor.

"Ah Jason had told me you're not feeling well. Can I bring you anything Y/n"

"Y/n?" I voice that must belong to Bruce followed behind Alfred. "Oh I didn't know you would be here" Bruce Wayne said cowl in hand his face looking tired. A young looking boy walked towards the bat computer ignoring you. honestly you were grateful for not having to meet another batfamily member.

You were trying to get up but he interrupted "no no please don't get up on my behalf rest its quite late."

You were going to respond but your stomach stirred again and a gurgle went up your throat. Bruce was quick to respond and got you a vomit bag. Great the first thing Bruce Wayne had ever heard from you was the disgusting sound of vomit. "You are quite sick" He put his hand on your forehead automatically. But there was no time to make up an excuse or reason.

"She's not sick, she's pregnant" the young and very rude boy said... definitely Damian.

"Oh uhm is uh.. when did you find out?" Bruce was extremely flustered, but by now you had experienced enough embarrassment for the night and just wanted Jason to come home.

"Just then" with the perfect timing that this family seemed to have you heard Jason and Duke ride into the cave to see an utterly confused Batman standing next to you.

"None of you are supposed to be here." Jason growled as he made his way to you he was about to glare at Bruce when he saw his bright red face he stopped "What's wrong with you?Salina break up with you again?" Jason

"Uhm" Bruce cleared his throat "you're right we're not supposed to be here. We should all go upstairs." He started heading to the stairs but everyone else seemed to be looking at you "now!" He said sternly in his Batman voice the room quickly cleared out after that.

You sighed a breath of relief as Jason sat next to you and pulled you close kissing your temple. "What was his problem?" He asked rubbing your arm and resting his head on your shoulder.

"Well I'm not technically sick."

"Hmm?" He didn't even seemed phased by this he just leaned into you more

"I had to do a test and uh everyone saw the result."

"Is it bad?" This man after a patrol you could swear his head was made of bricks.

"Depends. Do you think its bad that I'm pregnant." You said hesitantly a very small part of you worried that he would say yes but worse is he didn't say anything. "Jason?"

"Uh no!" He moved to face you his forehead pressed against yours "No it's its not bad its just its unexpected and then I'm sorry I'm sorry for all of that and them and wow"

You giggled "Yeah it's not exactly what I was expecting for tonight"

He cupped your cheek and smiled at you "I love you Y/N"

Tears started to well in your eyes "I love you too Jason" He pulled you in for a long kiss. Finally all you wanted all night was to be with him.

Upstairs Dick arrived home to...chaos. Stephanie was talking to Cass about everything they were going to do to prepare for.. something. Tim was yelling at Damian, Barbara and Bernard were telling Duke about the entire night and Bruce sat in an armchair still in complete embarrassment and disbelief.

"Did I miss something?"

[missbluesunflowersstuff]

AU where Tim is turned a crow (Klarion's fault) and Damian finds him but Damian does it without knowing that that crow is his old brother, he just sees this random bird trying to get into the house and just "yeah sure, I have a new pet now :D"

Crow!Tim now needs to find a way to turn himself back but he can't do much in this bird form, then decide to follow Damian around for a while

It's just a silly idea (I have more than 12 drafts....) where Tim starts to know his youngest better (draws, music, anime), Damian's friends (Collin, Maps, Maya and others) are also there, and also no "oh this wild boy was so brat in the past" but more Tim: "hey since when he do this? Hey I really miss all of this?! Tf!"

Just the funniest idea possible because Tim likes to be the stalker but then "hey mister stalker, you actually miss the youngest's character grow" (Klarion just like drama and make this his telenovela somehow)

And bonus: Damian and Stephanie actually notice that Tim is missing and tries to find the clues, "There's something wrong, Drake would never miss something like this, it's Pennyworth's special cake!" "yeah, you're right ...and he is offline for a while now...maybe something happened" while Crow!Tim is right there in Damian shoulder judging everyone

Bonus²: Crow!Tim will also help Damian sometimes

Damian: wow you're smart! I'll call you "Drake"! It's a nice name for a smart bird

Crow!Tim: .... *internally scream*

Damian: what? Are you a girl? If you want I can call you Gordon

I just want them bonding in the chaotic way possible

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Not You

Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: A few times your big brother Dean scares you.

Your big brother Dean would do anything for you, you knew that. He’d practically raised you, taking care of you when John wasn’t able to. He loved you and Sam more than anything, and you felt the same way about him.

But that didn’t change the fact that sometimes, Dean scared you.

…

You were hunkered down in the back of the Impala while Sam and Dean yelled at each other outside about their new buddy, Gordon.

You didn’t like Gordon, he freaked you out. And while Dean seemed to trust him completely, Sam was more on your side; hence their argument.

You couldn’t hear what they were saying, and you honestly didn’t care that much. That is, until Dean reared back his fist and punched Sam square in the face.

You scrambled to get out of the car before you noticed that Sam didn’t try to reciprocate. They exchanged a few more heated words before finally heading towards the Impala.

You were quiet that night, even after the vampires and Gordon had been taken care of. Your mind replayed the image of Dean punching your brother over and over again.

You felt ridiculous, lingering over something that even Sam seemed to have forgotten. But you couldn’t help but imagine that kind of anger directed at you. If he hit Sam—the brother that had been inseparable to him since basically birth—what did that mean for the others around him?

“Hey kid,” Dean’s voice startled you out of your thoughts. “I’m going for a supply run, wanna come with?”

“N-no I’m good,” you cursed the stutter that came out and forced yourself to calm down. You were only freaked because you’d been thinking about the punch, not because you were actually scared of Dean…

Right?

Your thoughts had once again distracted you, so when Dean made his next move you did something unexpected.

Dean raised a hand to run it through his hair, and your body reacted instinctively, following your current state of mind. You visibly flinched back, away from Dean, and it didn’t go unnoticed. Both Dean and Sam—who had looked up to watch the exchange at the wrong moment—noticed your reaction, and they responded in very different ways.

Dean seemed to freeze, his brows drawing together. Sam on the other hand reacted immediately, standing and taking Baby’s keys from Dean’s hand.

“Actually, I’ll go on the supply run. I need some air anyway, you two hang out here.”

He was gone before either sibling could protest.

The silence stretched on for several long minutes before you realized the problem. You were waiting for Dean to bring up what had happened, and he was waiting for you to bring it up. Considering how stubborn you both were, this could go on forever, so you decided to speak first.

“Why did you hit Sam?”

“Is that why you…” you dropped your gaze to your hands when Dean trailed off. “Hey,” he knelt beside the bed you were sitting on, his face flooding your vision. “C’mon, use your words.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you do that,” Dean demanded, his hand coming up to your shoulder. “Don’t be scared of me, not you. Not ever, I-I can’t…” Dean swallowed. “Don’t you ever be scared of me. I would never hurt you.”

“You hit Sam,” you argued.

“Sam’s different,” he insisted.

“Why?”

“Well for one, Sam’s not a kid, ok? He’s bigger than me, he can take a hit.”

When you didn’t respond, he sighed.

“Look, I shouldn’t have hit Sam, ok? But things are going on right now, things I’d rather not explain. But I promise you, I’m never gonna hurt you. Can you just trust me on that?”

“Ok,” you muttered. I can do that.”

…

You were huddled on Bobby’s couch, your knees curled up to your chest as you pretended not to hear the sounds coming from downstairs.

Your big brothers had caught a demon that could lead them to Crowley, and unfortunately he didn’t feel like talking.

Dean had managed to get a few words out of the guy, so Sam and Bobby were following up on that lead, but it wasn’t enough.

You were so wound up that when your phone rang you nearly fell off the couch. You answered when you saw Sam’s name on the screen.

“Did you find anything?”

“Not quite,” Sam sighed. “I need to talk to Dean, but he left his phone here in the Impala. Can you get him?”

“You-you want me to…” you swallowed down the protest that you desperately wanted to make. “Um, ok, I’ll-I’ll go get him.”

You put Sam on mute as you padded down the stairs towards the sound of the demon screaming.

You hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, your body unwilling to move forwards. Frozen to the spot, you were forced to take in the scene in front of you. Dean, a knife glinting in his hands, had blood running down his arms and splattered on his shirt.

The demon was strapped down to a chair on top of a devil’s trap, bleeding from various cuts, his face steaming from the holy water Dean had just dumped on him.

But worse than the gruesome scene in front of you was the twisted smirk on Dean’s face as he splashed holy water onto his knife and sliced into the demon’s arm, causing more screaming. As soon as the screams died down, you were about to make your presence known when the demon suddenly caught sight of you. His wicked grin alerted Dean, and he turned to see what the demon was looking at.

Your breath caught in your throat as you took an unconscious step back. Upon seeing you, Dean’s features softened almost instantly, but that didn’t take away what you’d seen. His mouth was still twisted in that awful grin, and to have it directed at you was even worse. The scariest thing though, was his eyes. They weren’t angry, which would’ve been scary enough.

There was a cool, harsh indifference in his eyes, as though he could just as easily shake your hand as cut off your head.

But when he saw you, a light seemed to enter his eyes, and the smirk dropped, but the ghost of those twisted featured lingered.

“You shouldn’t be down here,” Dean muttered as he stepped close to you.

“Sa-Sammy called,” you mumbled nervously, holding up the phone.

Dean snatched up a wet rag from a metal table next to him, wiping some of the blood off his hands and taking your phone, but not before noticing how your outstretched hand was shaking. He followed your gaze to the demon behind him, who was watching your exchange with that awful grin on his face. When Dean turned back to you, though, he saw that you were now looking at him.

He couldn’t decide whether the terror in your eyes was because of him, or the demon.

Dean leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “Go back upstairs.”

You gripped onto his arm, trying desperately to find comfort in the familiar gesture.

When he pulled away, you looked up into his eyes, trying to erase the memory of what you’d seen there.

“Don’t,” you were surprised at the strain in Dean’s voice. “Don’t look at me like that. Not you.”

You didn’t have to ask what he meant. You lurched forward suddenly, wrapping your arms around your big brother, ignoring the blood on his jacket. He reciprocated, and the feeling of his strong arms around you abated your fear. It didn’t matter what he’d done to that demon, Dean was still just Dean.

Dean was safe.

…

“Alright, I’m gonna go in. You wait here.”

“Are you insane?” You scoffed as Sam stepped out of the car. “It’s Dean, I’m coming.”

“We don’t know what he is right now, so no, you’re not.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You saw the black eyes, Y/N. It’s not just Dean anymore. Now I mean it, stay in the car, I’ll be out with him soon.”

As Sam closed his door and walked into the bar, you reached down to unbuckle your seat belt.

“If you wanted me to stay away, you should’ve left me at the bunker.”

…

You couldn’t help it. When you saw Dean for the first time in months, your body grew a mind of its own.

“Dean!” Your features lifted in a grin as you rushed towards your big brother. All the air left your body in a huff when Sam’s arm shot out to stop you, wrapping around your waist.

“What’s the matter, Sammy?” Dean smirked. “Don’t trust me?”

That was when you really took in the scene. Dean looked…different. Like, not Dean. It wasn’t the same as when you’d seen him torturing that demon, it wasn’t just a coldness or a harshness, it was a different person.

But what stood out to you more was Sam. His arm was tight around you, before he maneuvered you behind him. His whole body was between you and Dean, one hand on your arm to be sure you were there, and the other just slightly jutting out in front of him. You knew that stance well; it was his Protective Mode, for whenever he thought there was an imminent, real danger.

And he was using it to keep you away from Dean. That scared you more than anything.

“Go back outside,” Sam ignored Dean’s remark, speaking to you but not taking his eyes off Dean.

“You shouldn’t have brought her here, Sammy,” Dean scoffed. “You know she can never resist her favorite big brother. Even when she was scared of me, she always liked me better than you.”

“Dean stop it,” you stepped around Sam, but he grabbed your arms and held you back.

“Y/N go outside,” Sam grunted.

“Dean, just come home with us,” you stopped fighting Sam, but kept your gaze on Dean.

“My home isn’t with you anymore, baby,” you nearly cringed when Dean’s favorite nickname for you came out in a way that was so obviously not Dean. “Now listen to Sammy so the grown ups can talk.”

“Dean-“

“Hey,” you were suddenly jerked around as Sam twisted you to face him. “I need you to go.”

Nothing less than the absolute terror on Sam’s face would’ve made you relent, but relent you did.

…

“I want you to stay out of there until this is over,” Sam stared you down.

“Is it that bad?”

“We’re gonna fix it, ok?” Sam sighed. “We’ve got the blood and everything, I just need you to stay away from him until it’s done.”

You nodded up at him, and he disappeared into the bunker’s dungeon.

With nothing to do, you found yourself wandering into Dean’s bedroom. You’d been doing that a lot since he’d left, finding the space comforting, as it was so very Dean.

However today was not a day that you would find comfort here. You’d been waiting in there for only an hour or so when you heard it. Or rather, him.

“Come on, Sammy! Don’t you wanna see your big brother?”

Your blood ran cold as you heard Dean’s not-so-subtle approach come closer and closer to you. What was he doing?

You didn’t have much time to wonder, because the footsteps echoing through the hall suddenly stopped outside your door.

What was he doing? If he didn’t want to be here, why didn’t he just leave?

You shouldn’t have stopped to wonder, but you’d promised yourself a long time ago that you’d always trust Dean, so the possibilities of what he really wanted hadn’t even crossed your mind when the door suddenly flew open.

Dean stood there, a hammer gripped in his hand as he stepped inside his old room.

“Hey little sister,” a sickening smirk spread across his face. “I was expecting Sammy, but I suppose I can take care of you first.”

Before you knew what was happening, you were flat on your back, the flat top of the hammer pressed against your throat.

You gasped for a breath, and were horrified when no air came through.

“St-st-st-“ it was no use, you couldn’t speak.

“What was that?” Suddenly the pressure on your neck lessened, but the hammer still was still touching your neck, like some kind of sick reminder that he could cut your air off again at any time.

“If you wanna leave, just leave,” you whimpered.

“Oh baby, I don’t wanna leave. Not yet. See, after what he tried to do to me, Sam’s as good as dead. But first, I’m gonna show him exactly where pissing me off gets him.”

“M-meaning?” You weren’t sure you wanted to know.

“Meaning you’re going first. But before that, you’re gonna get Sammy over here so he can watch.”

Your eyes drifted to your pocket where your phone was.

“Oh no baby, you won’t need that to get him here,” Dean leaned back, lifting the hammer.

“De-“ your plea broke off in a shriek when the blunt object slammed down on your hand. White hot pain shot up you arm, and the edges of your vision started to go fuzzy, black tinging the corners.

“Hey!” A harsh slap across your face brought focus back to your eyes. “Don’t you pass out on me baby, I want Sam to hear you scream.”

“Please,” you sobbed. “Dean, don’t do this to me. Not you. Don’t you do this. Not you, please!”

“Dean!”

“Hey Sammy,” Dean didn’t even turn around at the sound of Sam’s voice.

“Dean, get away from her,” you craned your neck to see Sam standing in the doorway, the demon blade clutched in his hand.

“Or what? You gonna kill me, Sammy?” Dean kept his eyes on you as he spoke to Sam, a cocky grin splitting his face. “I don’t think you have it in you.”

Sam took a half step forwards, but stopped when Dean raised the hammer, barely sparing a glance at Sam

“Uh-uh. I can bring this down on her skull faster than you can reach me, and you know I will.”

“Ok, ok,” Sam lowered the knife as he sidestepped further into the room and into Dean’s line of sight. “Just let her go man. This is between you and me.”

“I don’t think so, Sammy. You brought her into this, and now I want you to watch her die.”

“Dean,” you grabbed onto Dean’s arm, once again gaining his attention. “Dean you don’t have to do this. Come on, it’s me, you-you can’t…” you shake your head. “Th-this isn’t you, you wouldn’t do this.”

“Oh baby it is me,” you whimpered as Dean leaned down to whisper in your ear. “And you should’ve stayed scared of me.”

Dean twisted the hammer in his hand, raising it up for the fatal blow.

You closed your eyes, blocking out the vision of Dean’s pit-black eyes as you waited for the blow.

You kept your eyes closed until you heard Dean cry out, and suddenly his weight was lifted off you. You looked up to see Castiel dragging Dean back, who was fighting tooth-and-nail, a horrible screeching-like scream coming from him.

“It’s over,” Castiel grunted. “It’s over.”

…

Once Dean was secured back in the dungeon, Castiel healed your broken hand before going to help Sam in curing Dean.

As soon as he was clean and out of the dungeon, you didn’t waste a second, running into his waiting arms.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he breathed.

“It’s ok, Dean.”

“No, no it’s not,” he insisted, pulling away. “It’s…it was…” Dean lowered his gaze, unable to look you in the eye.

Not having it, you ducked your head lower so that your face flooded his vision, and he finally met your gaze again.

“Not you. It was not you.”

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Bateman Begins Part 43

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Notes: I’m aiming to have 2-3 more chapters before wrapping this up.

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x Reader

Rating: M

"You're late."

You are. That had not been the plan.

In fact, for most of the evening, nothing has gone to plan.

The modulator had been such a finicky little fucker to get right.

You had spent so much time fiddling with it to nail Nathan's pitch and timbre.

His tone and pace, that was down to you to get right.

The kevlar had also been more difficult to manipulate than you'd anticipated.

It's lighter and more flexible, just like you wanted, but conforming it to your body and needs is so foreign to you.

And after all of the time that you had taken to get the voice box right—

It doesn't matter.

You're finally there, hugging to the shadows as you eye. Commissioner Jim Gordon standing at the other end of the roof.

You've seen him on the news all day, and you'd had some inkling that Nathan was working with the cops while you'd both been in Gotham.

"I've got questions," Gordon takes a step closer, and it's a fight not to just turn and run.

Instead you tip your chin up, the night splitting with Nathan's voice: "I came here for answers. You said your information was too sensitive to send."

"Where the hell have you been?"

And isn't that the million dollar question.

"Busy."

"Look, I know we don't exactly have a solid relationship, but you can't just disappear on me like that, man. We've been drowning without you out there."

"...Information," You reiterate. "Who, where, what. Details."

Gordon shakes his head, huffing.

"You've seen this clown shit?"

"Here and there."

"Well, it's all over the fucking place."

"You said you had a lead."

"The name Jack White mean anything to you?"

Not a damn thing.

Gordon's eyes narrow at your silence before he fishes into his pocket, drawing out a USB stick.

He holds it out, and waits.

But you don't dare get any closer, not as you are. Not like this.

"...Look, I don't know what the fuck is going on with you," Gordon says after a moment, "Or with Bateman. The department's up my ass about it. Once we clear up this clown gang, if he hasn't resurfaced and if you don't volunteer that information...It's not looking good for you."

"Nothing to volunteer."

"Why were you at his manor, then?"

"...Had a tip."

"About what?"

"Can't say."

"Christ," Gordon hisses. "I thought you were a shit before. What's crawled up your ass?"

"Give me the information. I do my job, you do yours."

Gordon huffs a flat laugh, tossing the stick just enough for you to catch it.

"I'll see what I can find," You add.

"Work fast, and keep your head down. Anyone in the department catches you with that information, it's both of us on the line."

"I understand."

--

You shouldn't have taken it.

You stare at the USB drive, damning yourself as the screens flicker in front of you.

You can't look into this.

Your thing is the tech, Nathan's thing is the digging.

At least, it was until Vicki sunk her claws into—

No, no. Not now.

You know that Nathan has access to a vast array of information.

You won't go after the guy, you can just...Give Gordon some insight on his leads to get him off your back.

And then you can dig back into whatever the hell happened to Nathan.

You heave in a deep breath, straightening up with a groan.

Getting home had been hell.

You'd doubled back to make sure Gordon wasn't following you. It had taken you four times as long to get back to the mansion.

It's nearly three in the morning, and you don't have Nathan's stamina.

Alright.

You'll take a short nap, have a snack, and then get going on this.

--

"Activity report, Master Bateman."

Nathan doesn't answer right away.

It's been like this for the last week and a half—Alfred running at half-power, focusing on security tasks as Nathan tries to identify the faulty wiring that's causing the facility to lock down.

He's been running as his own skeleton crew, working at half-speed and half-power as he tries to pinpoint the problem.

Whatever it is, wherever it is, it's giving him a helluva runaround.

Every time he thinks he's got it nailed, something else rears its ugly fucking head.

And with Alfred running at diminished capacity, Nathan has narrowed his task focuses mean—namely activity reports for the properties connected to his systems.

"Go on," Nathan waves a hand before returning both to the keyboard.

"Facility occupants: two."

"Technically one," Nathan mutters.

"I take umbridge with that. Manor occupants—"

"None, I know, move on—"

"One—"

"What?" Nathan twists in his chair, brow furrowing deeply. "The fuck do you mean, one occupant in the Manor?"

"Entry, exit, kitchen, and Blue Room sensors have been triggered repeatedly."

It can't just be the police, there's no way they'd start sniffing around there after so many weeks, let alone take up residence.

It could be a wild animal that's gotten in, is enjoying having the run of the place.

"Cave sensors?"

"Triggered."

His stomach swoops.

"Why the hell didn't you start with that? How many times?"

"Nine times in the last forty-eight hours."

Nathan twists back to his laptop, minimizing his work.

"Is that the only activity for the cave?" He asks.

"The sensors have been triggered routinely for the last week."

Nathan's hands curl and flex over his keyboard, fingers beginning to tingle with nerves.

Vicki had been on his trail when he left town, but he didn't think that she'd gotten that close.

Could she have found the cave, worked out how to get in?

And if it is her, what the fuck is she doing, going down there, over and over? Taking photos? Collecting evidence?

Nathan hisses a curse as he receives an error message for the cameras at the Manor.

Son of a bitch—it can't be that the power had been shut down, or off.

If that was the case, the sensors wouldn't be working.

He considers for a few moments, eyes searching the error screen.

"Alfred."

"Sir."

"How many times have the sensors in the Blue Room been triggered?"

"In the last forty-eight hours?"

"In the last week."

"Fifty-three, sir."

Nathan's mind zips to a place it shouldn't go.

You're in Metropolis. You're in a shitty apartent with your grass-green avocados and stubbornness.

Even if you are back in Gotham...No.

Nathan shakes his head, swallowing thickly.

He's been toying with the idea of a return, first as Batman, and then as himself—an ease back into public life coupled with an excuse that things had gotten too chaotic, that he didn't plan his little break to cause such a stir.

But if someone is in his Manor, sniffing around the cave, poking around his truths—

Hell.

Nathan is going to have to get back to Gotham—the sooner, the better.

Tag list: @blueeyesatnight ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @foxilayde @danniburg ; @brandyllyn ;

@missredherring ; @the-feckless-wonder ; @ew-erin ; @xocalliexo ; @youngkenobilove ;

@chattychell ; @lorecraft  ; @thembosapphicclown ; @kmc1989

[multifandomfanficss]

It’s About Time

Ed Nygma/The Riddler x Reader

Prompt: Ed offers to help you with time management when you tell him you’re stressed at work. Your conversation is interrupted by an attack on the GCPD by the Maniax.

Warnings: Mentions of murder, cannibalism, r*pists, abuse, and general graphic violence. Gotham typical violence. Mental health struggles. Sensory issues and meltdowns common with autism. Panic. Near death experiences. Claustrophobia. References to being buried alive. Nightmares.

A/N: I’m rewatching Gotham and I didn’t realize the missed potential for hurt/comfort the first time I watched this show 7 years ago. My work load has been really heavy lately, but this show broke me out of my writers block and I made time for the writing bug. This takes place in the middle of Ed’s Riddler arc. He hasn’t fully become the Riddler yet, but he has already made his first kill. The reader has qualities of an autistic person, but is not explicitly said to be autistic. I accidentally code a lot of my characters to be autistic because I am, but this was more intentional to reflect Ed’s autistic coding. Feel free to read into it or not! You don’t have to be autistic to read and hopefully enjoy this! Crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

“I’ve been so stressed lately.” You sigh. “It’s like I can’t get anything done that I actually need to get done.” You stand in the hallway of the precinct talking to your friend Ed. You were stressing about this case and Jim Gordon was making you go through hundreds of old files for him. You were never part of the real action, but the horrifying crime scene photos and evidence you had to pull through everyday was taking a toll on you. Gordon’s time crunches never helped either. You understood that lives were often on the line, but that didn’t make it any easier.

“What can some people never get enough of and others say is too much? What has the ability to fly when having fun or is stuck completely frozen when you need it to move?” He smiles. You stare at him blankly. You had not been getting enough sleep. You loved hearing his riddles, but you were never the best at giving him the answers. It was so hard for your mind to keep track of it all. “Do you give up?” He asks.

“My brain just isn’t braining right now.” You laugh. “What’s the answer?”

“Time.” He beams, happy with himself. “You should try to implement a better time management plan. You look tired all the time. It’s like you’re not even sleeping.”

“Thanks, Ed.” You give a dry laugh.

“You know what I mean.” You nod in an agreement with him. “You might be the only person who usually knows what I mean.” He says, fiddling with his fingers and the buttons on his coat.

He was right. Nobody quite seemed to get him, but nobody quite seemed to get you either. You had always felt this odd draw to him that you could never quite explain. Truthfully you think you have feelings for him, but you always bury them. He saw you as a friend and he really needed a friend. Besides he had been pinning over Kristen since before you even got to the precinct. You had mixed feelings towards her. On one hand you felt bad for her. She was always getting mixed up with shitty boyfriends who treated her poorly, but on the other hand she had a mean streak. You never liked how she treated Ed. It was like he wasn’t a person with feelings to her and that made you so angry.

“You’re right. I haven’t been sleeping.” You tell him.

“Why is that?” He asks.

“We live in Gotham. With the terrifying shit we see everyday, I don’t know how anyone sleeps.”

“Are you having nightmares again?” He asks, his face painted with concern.

“It’s fine. It’s just work stress. It’s just this case. I’m fine.” You smile. It wasn’t a real smile. Your smiles always came so naturally around Ed that he knew something was off. He was about to press when you heard gunshots coming from down the hall. Your body immediately froze like a dear in headlights in the middle of the hallway.

You’ve had violent people in the precinct before and it always made you nervous, but this was different. The Maniax were on the loose and you knew they were too unhinged to care about survivors or bargains. With Jerome Valeska at the helm, along side cannibals, rapists, and murderers you were terrified. They’d escaped from Arkham days ago and already managed to murder dozens of people. This was far too close to the action for you, as you heard Jerome’s laugh bellowing down the hall from the bullpen; a laugh you remembered from one of your early cases at the precinct. You had felt bad for him and tried to help him when his mother died. You will never forget the laugh he let out when Jim realized he wasn’t as innocent as you’d thought. It ran a chill through your spine.

Everything started moving too fast when you realized you were being pulled down the hall quickly. Once you realized you were holding hands, you tightly grasped Ed’s hand, not wanting to be separated from him. He brings you further down the hall into the ME’s lab.

“W-where are we going?” You stutter. It’s like your mouth can’t keep up with your racing mind.

“Do you trust me?” He looks at you trying to stay calm.

“Ed, what are you doing?” You’re panicking. He can tell. It’s not hard to tell, as your hands fidget and your breathing is heavy. You’re trying to stay calm.

“(Y/N), I need you to trust me.” He places his hands on your shoulders in an effort to ground you with the pressure. You close your eyes and nod, hesitantly. You do trust him.

Ed runs to the cold lockers and opens one, checking to see if it’s empty. He finds a dead body inside. You cringe. Seeing bodies is rare for you and you’re still getting used to it.

“Oh dear… okay… second times the charm…” He mumbles to himself trying to find an empty locker. “Bingo!” He smiles, finding an empty one. The wheels start to turn in your head.

“No! I’m not getting in there!” Your panic increases. Ed shushes you.

“This is our best chance. I promise I’ll let you out as soon as I can.”

“We won’t be together?” Your eyes start to burn. You try to keep back tears. You’re shaking.

“We won’t both fit in the same one. I’m gonna go in the one above you-“

“No no please I- I don’t wanna be by myself! Please don’t leave me!” You cut him off and beg him. Ed awkwardly rubs his thumbs across your shoulders where he places his hands again, still trying to ground you. It’s awkward, but it’s still somewhat calming.

“I’m not leaving you. I would never leave you. I’ll be right next to you the whole time. I promise. I need you to trust me.” You’re not sure if it’s because it’s life or death, or if it’s because it’s Ed, but you reluctantly let him help your shaking body into the mortuary cabinet. When it comes time to let go of his hand and close the cabinet, you don’t want to. Despite quickly running out of time, he knows he needs to be patient. He knows how hard this is for you. He’s always known you’re a bit claustrophobic. He had no idea one of your worst fears was being buried alive. Being stuck in a cold locker wasn’t too far from either of those things. He can hear footsteps far down the hall. The Maniax were never subtle. He kisses the hand he’s holding quickly before closing your locker and climbing into his own. You were surprised by the kiss, but you couldn’t think about that right now and what it could have meant. Your mind couldn’t keep up. He had to leave his own locker unlocked, unable to properly close it from the inside, but he locked yours to make it look more convincing.

When Ed heard you cry, he began to whisper, hoping he could be loud enough for you to hear, but quiet enough for the Maniax to not notice. “It’s okay, (Y/N). I’m still here.” It was enough to quiet your sobs. Tears silently streamed down your cheeks. Ed’s voice had a certain gentleness to it when he spoke to you. He was being especially gentle now. You had seen him angry, upset, anxious, energetic, but his calm voice was reserved for you. Even in this moment when he was admittedly not very calm, he was trying his best to mask his own fears to keep you safe.

You always reserved parts of yourself for each other; parts of yourselves that the other person enabled you to be. You were never as bold as you wanted to be, but when people were rude to Ed you stuck up for him. He brought out a more confident version of you. For Ed, he knew you struggled with staying calm when you were stressed, upset, anxious or scared, even when you were happy. All of your emotions were so big and you rarely knew how to contain them. He tried to stay calm because he knew you saw him as a calming person in your life. He liked being your hero when everyone else only saw him as a weak, odd, nuisance. He also liked that he could read you and that you were honest with him. He trusted you and it helped keep the voice in his head at bay. He didn’t have to question himself with you. He didn’t have to take advice from the voice in his head.

You tried to keep your meltdown as quiet as possible when you heard footsteps approach. They were heavy, not ones you recognized. You knew it had to be one of the Maniax, probably the cannibal. You tried to make your breath as quiet as possible. After what you assume was a poor sweep of the room, the man leaves.

After what seems like hours of being trapped in a corpse you finally hear sirens and then chatter. You hear Ed climb out of the locker above you. He opens your locker and you let out an audible sob.

“I think they’ve gone.” He says, pulling out the drawer to let your body get some much needed air. You start gasping and sobbing, shaking on the drawer of the mortuary cabinet. Your body jolts up. You just want to get away from the locker.

“You’re okay! You’re okay!” Ed catches your body, as your start to fall from the drawer to the floor. You sit on the floor and cling to him, sobbing. At first awkward, he runs his hand along your back, trying to sooth you with the repetitive motion.

“I felt like I was dead- like- like I was gonna get buried alive-“ You gasp for air, sobbing between your words. Ed shushes you.

“We’re okay. They’re gone.” He promises.

You hear fast approaching footsteps. Your brain is moving too fast to decide if the footsteps are familiar or not. You just bury yourself further into Ed’s chest.

“Detective Gordon is here.” He informs you and you relax only slightly.

“Nygma, are they okay?” Jim asks.

“No mortal wounds, they’re just a bit shaken up.” He lets him know.

“You two should probably still get checked out. I need to finish scanning the building for everyone else. So far we’ve got 9 cops dead in the bullpen and… and the commissioner is dead.” He says. It’s almost like you hear Jim, but you don’t. Your mind can’t keep up with anything that’s happening.

After a while you find yourself sitting, waiting for Lee to check you out. Ed had been pulled away for a few minutes to do his job. He didn’t want to leave you, but you assured him you were fine. You didn’t feel fine, but you knew they needed him. As long as you could see him on the other side of the bullpen, you were reluctant, but okay with him stepping away. He left his jacket draped around your shoulders. It helped to be surround by his smell and warmth.

When it was time to go home, Ed guided you to his car. You hadn’t spoken much, but at least you’d finally stopped crying. The car ride was quiet. The only thing that filled the air was Ed’s occasional hum with the radio. Neither of you quite knew what to say. It was a bit ironic considering usually nobody could ever get you two to shut up. You didn’t speak up until he turned onto your street.

“I don’t want to go home.” You said quietly, feeling the panic rise again at the thought of being alone at home again.

“That’s understandable. Would you like to stay at my place?” He asks. You nod, silently. He flicks his turn signal and starts the drive to his place.

“Welcome to Château Nygma.” He smiles, turning on the light. You still have his jacket wrapped around your shoulders. Despite the terror you’ve been through today, his smile is refreshing. You don’t question how he can stay so seemingly sane in times like these, but you’re just glad somebody is. You need that. Maybe you should have questioned it, but you didn’t. He has a nice apartment. It’s not too big. Why would it be for a man who lived by himself? It’s just the right size with cool windows and a comfortable setup.

“Do you want something to eat? I’m a good cook.” He smiles. You don’t know how he can continue to smile, but you’re glad. It starts to make you feel safer. It’s nice to be in a locked apartment with just you and Ed. It’s nice to be in a quiet, secluded place, but not feel alone. It’s far better than sitting on your bed, scared of any serial killers that could be hiding underneath the frame and jumping at any people you hear in the stairwell of your apartment, with an open case file sitting next to you, worried the killers you’re reading about could be onto you any second. Today was a very close call. Too close.

“If you’re not sure, that’s okay too.” He continues, noticing you’re deep in thought.

“Oh…uh yeah… I’m not sure what I want… It’s like my body needs things, but I’m just a little bit too overwhelmed to figure it out.” You look down, shyly.

“Do you want to just sit? I can put on some music?” He questions referencing the record player with his hands.

“That sounds okay. I think I can do that.” You nod. He puts on some quiet music, not too loud to overstimulate you and you make your way to the couch. He brings you a glass of water.

“I can imagine it might be hard for you to have an appetite given your increased levels of adrenaline today, but you should at least drink this.” You take the water from him and begin to sip it. You didn’t realize how nice cold water could feel. You drink it quickly, before setting the glass down.

“Thank you.”

Ed sits down and you gravitate towards him.

“How do you do it?” You ask.

“How do I do what?” He looks for clarification.

“Your job. There’s so much death everywhere.”

“I don’t know. I just sort of do. Honestly I think it’s fascinating…” He pauses, looking away from you. “Sorry. That probably sounds weird.”

“It does, but that’s okay. I like the fact that you’re different and you’re honest. It’s comforting. You’re a better man than all of those crooked cops walking around beating up women and mobsters alike.”

“You think so?” He asks.

“Yeah, I do.” You smile. This time it’s a real smile. Ed smiles too. It’s nice to know after everything he’s done for you to make you comfortable, you can say something to make him feel better.

“I’m sorry all of this has been so awful for you.” He says.

“I know we’re doing good and it’s important to do good in a world of so much bad, but sometimes I just wish nobody had to do it. I can’t even fathom what would make somebody what kill another person. Maybe out of necessity, but it scares me that people actually enjoy it.”

“Yeah.” Ed shifts uncomfortably. You think he must agree with you and that’s why he’s unconformable. You don’t know that he killed Officer Doherty for abusing Kristen just over a month ago.

The two of you talk for quite some time until you end up falling asleep next to him on the couch. He doesn’t mind when you fall into his lap. He lets you sleep, smiling down at you. He didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to wake you. He was afraid of breathing too deeply and shifting too much underneath you. He eventually falls asleep sitting up with you still in his lap.

Everything is peaceful until you shoot up screaming, in a cold sweat. You’ve had another nightmare. This time is different. You’re disoriented. You don’t know where you are. You feel hands touching you.

“(Y/N), it’s me! It’s Ed! You had another nightmare.” You look at his face to see him distraught, unsure of what to do. Your tossing and turning had woken him up. He was awake only seconds before you.

Your eyes begin to well with tears. “I just want it to stop. When will all of this stop?” You cry.

“When will what stop?” He asks.

“Everything! I just want to stop feeling like this. I want to stop being afraid. I should be used to the job by now.”

“Maybe you just need more time to get used to it! I know we talked about time management earlier. I can help you with your schedule.” He offers.

“I don’t want to manage my time. I just want it to freeze. I just wish time would freeze so I could just breathe and catch up!”

Ed looks at you defeated. He doesn’t know what to say. He likes riddles because riddles always have answers. He doesn’t know what to do when there’s a problem with no solution.

“I’m sorry.” He settles with saying. “Would a hug help?” He’s just grasping at anything he’s seen people do when trying to comfort other people with problems and no solutions.

“Yes.” You say quietly, burying your head in his chest. Despite being the one to offer the hug, he’s a little awkward at first. He eventually settles in.

“Is this helping?” He asks.

“Yes.” You tell him. Of course, Ed being who he is, even now he’s still looking for a solution. He doesn’t realize he may be the solution, or at least someone to help make the problem smaller. “You always help.” You add.

“I’m sure most of our coworkers would disagree.” He laughs.

“I never thanked you for earlier today.” You say quietly.

“It was nothing.” He smiles.

“No, Ed. Keeping me safe in a life or death situation isn’t nothing.”

“I’m sure anyone would have done it.” He argues.

“No, they wouldn’t have.” You tell him.

“I’ll always protect you.” He pulls you closer, shifting awkwardly underneath you. “You know… my apartment is always open if you want to sleep with me- I- I mean sleep with me in attendance- I- I mean sleep with each other- I- I mean near each other- you know! In case you have nightmares!”

“I might just have to take you up on that. This is the first night I’ve felt okay enough to be able to maybe go back to sleep afterwards.” You smile, trying not to laugh. You don’t want him to think you’re making fun of him. Truthfully you think he’s sweet and funny.

“You should go back to sleep and since I didn’t get to make you dinner I’ll be making you the best breakfast of your life tomorrow.” He beams.

“You better.” You snuggle into him. Ed is too awkward to suggest you go lay in his bed tonight and you’re too tired to care. You spend the rest of the night on the couch together. You can save the bed for tomorrow night. You know when you wake up in the morning you’ll be coming back. It was the most sleep you’ve gotten in weeks.

Ed wakes up before you and sneaks off the couch to start breakfast. He truthfully was a very good cook. His own sensory issues with food made him very particular about how it’s prepared. You wake up to the smell of something good in the oven. Ed is nowhere to be seen, but you hear him in the bathroom. He’s talking. You knew he often talked to himself, but he sounded like he was talking to someone else. Maybe he was on the phone. You were sure you were hearing one half of a conversation.

“I told you we could trust them. They like me for me. They think I’m a good man.”

[arjudy224]

Three Times the Batfamily has been disgusted by your love life...

Dating is hard... but dating in Gotham... Oh Brother... Here are all the times the Batfamily has been involved in your love life.

1st time: Valentines Day

I've really gotta stop going for nerdy guys. This never ends the way I want it to.

"You know Eddie. You could have bought me dinner..." I call out to the rambling rogue behind me, "Scratch that... I can list off a hundred different date ideas.... That DO NOT INVOLVE THE BATMAN."

From behind, there is a swift crack followed by a muffled cry.

"I like flowers... I'm sure there was a way you could incorporate a riddle with those."

Footsteps draw nearer.

"I honestly don't even think you are trying. What does a child make, but never see? Come on dude... Work on on yourself. Restraints are fun, but this is ridiculous."

Suddenly, my restraints loosen. Stumbling to my feet, I swiftly turn around to see Batman's foreboding gaze staring down at me while my boyfriend lies face down 3 feet away.

"Are you alright?" Batman questions carefully noting my lacy heart pj's on top my push up bra. My diamond question mark necklace glitters in the darkness.

"Uh... yeah... Guess I should probably find an apartment where the Riddler doesn't live next door."

Batman sighs before patting me on the back. I am weirdly comforted by the paternal look in his eyes.

"That would be for the best."

2nd time:

Nightwing raises a pointed eyebrow before covering Robin’s eyes. Robin smacks his gloved hand away.

“Come on…. Y/N…” Nightwing trails off.

I interrupt him before this can get anymore humiliating. Being left to be eaten by a man sized Venus Flytrap after a date is not how I imagined my night to go.

“I do not need a life lesson; I have work tomorrow.”

Robin dutifully unties my restraints. He carefully looks anywhere else except my green lingerie.

Nightwing clears his throat. Rummaging through fallen leaves, he asks

“Do you know where she might have left your clothes?”

I shake my head before I start searching the drawers to the left of the nightstand. My sweaty palms create some difficulty turning the knobs.

“You know…” Nightwing continues leaning against the wall, “If you ever wanted to go on a date with someone who wasn’t going to be sent to Arkham… I’ve got this brother.”

My heart starts pounding. This is not happening. Robin’s jaw drops in disbelief.

“Are you seriously trying to set up Red Hood right now?” He gasps incredulously.

Both vigilantes listen to something being said into their ear pieces.

“Well, Jaybird. She’s prettier than anyone you’ve been talking to lately.”

My mouth gasps silently like a fish. Robin finally looks me up and down. He nods before agreeing. This child did not just....

Trying to ignore the hot waves of embarrassment, I finally force words to come out.

“GET OUT! I’ll find them myself!”

3rd time:

“Okay… but this time was not my fault.” I explain raising my hands in surrender. “How was I supposed to know that Two Face’s favorite song would be ‘22’? I have to make a living somehow!”

Batgirl tries to keep a straight face, but when she glances back at Red Robin… they both burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry….” She says trying to be professional, “This isn’t funny.”

“Uh huh…” I respond narrowing my eyes at them.

Realizing my mortification, their laughter slowly dies down. The teenage vigilantes grow as serious as possible.

“So, Two Face took you captive after you dedicated 22 by Taylor Swift to him?” Robin questions analyzing the crime boss’s office.

“Yes, I work at the iceberg lounge as a singer.”

“Where you ever an associate of Harvey Dent before his accident?”

My face goes red. This is not how I wanted today to go. I hate adding fuel to their fire.

“Something like that. I made some mistakes early in college.”

Batgirl bites her quivering lip to avoid laughing before composing herself. She checks her clip board left by Gordon.

“We’ll make sure GCPD gets back your… 2 themed underwear that went missing?”

I fantasize about those birds that slam their head underground to avoid conflict.

“I just want my computer. He can… keep the rest. I’m sure he’d like wearing it more than me.” I awkwardly trail off wrapping the robe tighter around my body.

Red Robin nods before muttering something into his ear piece.

“Okay, we’ll be on the search for that. I’m sure Red Hood can drop it off when he raids the lair tonight."

I start laughing before taking a step back. Putting my hands up, I interrupt.

“I can pick it up at Gordon’s office tomorrow. There’s… no need for… any of that.”

The two teens share a glance.

“Are you sure?” Batgirl inquires with a knowing smile in my direction.

I raise an eyebrow.

“Leave me out of this. I do not need to end up dead in crime alley because you guys thought it would be a good idea to set me up with your brother.”

Laughter can be heard in their comms. I vaguely make out “She’s got a point” in Nightwing’s voice.

With a reluctant grin, Batgirl shrugs. Before the vigilante duo leave, Red Robin flashes me an ornery grin.

“See you later.”

I respectfully flip them both off. Laughter echoes down the hallway as they leave.

[tagsecretsanta]

From @coco9728

From @coco9728 to @pareidoliaonthemove

Secret

Virgil stood in his father’s… (Virgil mentally cursed himself) Scott’s! office.

It was a sort of foreign place…he felt like he knew the room like the back of his hand, yet at the same time it was a complete mystery. He didn’t know how Scott could spend so much time in here, he practically lives in here when not out on any missions. He himself could only count on one hand the number of times he’d been in here since…7 years now since Dad had gone missing. Virgil mentally shook himself to stop his mind from going down that dark tunnel of thoughts, again…

Why was he here again?...Oh yeah! Virgil walked behind the desk and opened several draws. Since Scott had badly cut his leg open on some debris from a flood when out on a mission two days ago and didn’t seek medical attention straight away…the flood water had gotten into the cut and caused a severe infection, taking the pilot down hard…So now, whilst Scott’s in the infirmary with both Alan and Gordon babysitting him just in case, though It would be a miracle if Scott had enough strength to sit up in bed, let along walk out the door.

John had sent him to Dad’s (arrrgh not again) Scott’s! office, to fetch some Tracy Industries paperwork needed for the next TI meeting this afternoon. He was thankful for John’s sacrifice in going into all these meetings in place of Scott. He definitely wouldn’t want to go.

Virgil sighed as he continued to rummage through the papers in the draws. Secretly, he was kind of glad that Scott had ended up in the infirmary. He desperately needs the rest after back-to-back missions all week and endless TI business to attend to. It seems that the only way he will ever let himself rest is if he’s forced to. A.k.a. the infected leg at the moment. Virgil muttered under his breath, ‘’Irresponsible brother, why can’t you see how not looking after yourself is not only affecting you, but everyone else as well!’’

Sighing and giving up on his search for now, Virgil took a seat in the office chair behind the desk. If Dad and Scott could find comfort in this chair then maybe he could too. Virgil lent back in the chair. ‘’Woah, Oof!’’ and accidentally tipped the chair backwards in the process, causing both him and the chair to end up on the floor… ‘’I guess the chair wasn’t designed for someone with broad shoulders like me.’’ He sighed.

From his new position on the floor, Virgil began to survey the room…it just seemed like too much effort to get up right at this moment…Everything in the room was neatly organized, not a single sheet of paper on the desk or book on the shelf was out of place. ‘’Wow, and I thought I was bad for being organized.’’ he mused.

He continued to survey the room, mentally counting the endless number of books, folders and papers that would be hiding in the many cabinets and shelves around the room. Though paper is a rare sight these days. Everything is usually stored digitally in holoprojector files. However, for important papers and documents about TI and IR, physical copies rather than digital are still safer with the number of hackers and AI around these days.

Sighing tiredly, he let his eyes roam around the room once more. He started tracing the textured lines of the wooden shelf, he always liked the look of oak wood…Then he noticed the amount of dust adorning each shelf. ‘’Damn.’’ Looking around the room all the furniture was dusty from this angle. Grandma would not be pleased. He really should bring a duster in here next time…

Suddenly, a small glint of light coming from somewhere under Scott’s desk in the middle of the room caught his eye. Getting up onto his hands and knees, Virgil crawled under the desk until he found what had caught his attention…On the underside of the desk in the far back corner was a small round silver button.

‘’That’s odd, I didn’t know that was there.’’ Virgil said in surprise. He thought for a minute…It must be IR related for a start because it’s hidden…but what for?...’’hmmm.’’ It probably just activates an emergency shut down procedure of some sort…though I really can’t think what for, we made it a rule that everyone knows and memorises where all emergency activation buttons, codes, switches, panels (the lot) are located around the island…so why don’t I know about this particular button if that’s the case…maybe it doesn’t do anything important…it must just activate something boring like a pop up cup holder on top of the desk…but then why hide the button under the desk where it’s hard to reach…

Thinking, what’s the worst that could happen. Eventually curiosity took the better of him and Virgil quickly pressed the button.

…

Nothing happened.

A beat of silence.

Another.

Then finally the button changed colour from silver to red. With tiny writing appearing on its surface saying, ‘Access Denied’. Then a couple of seconds later, it changed back to silver.

 ‘’Oh!’’ Virgil said in surprise. Why does the button have our standard IR recognition software?...It must do something fairly important then…but then, why didn’t anyone tell me about it?...and why don’t I have access…who does?...

‘’Ah Ha!’’ suddenly Virgil new what to do…

Crawling out from under the desk and standing up, he looked on top of the desk and found what he was looking for. The old holoprojector attached to the desktop. Now thinking of Parker’s old trick, Virgil reached into the desks top draw and pulled out the packet of gum he knew Scott liked to keep there. Opening the packet, he popped one into his mouth. ‘’Bleh!’’ It took all of Virgil’s self-control not to spit it back out again. ‘’Apple pie flavour, ewe!’’

Taking a minute to chew the gum he then popped it back out of his mouth and carefully proceeded to lift Scott’s fingerprints of the holoprojector by pressing the gum against its activation panel…However. What he didn’t account for, was to accidentally activate the projector. He only had a second’s warning to throw the gum back into the open draw before John appeared in front of him.

…

After a few moments of silence John was the first to talk. ‘’Are you alright Virgil?’’

Virgil brushed down his shirt to give himself a second to compose himself…A sudden remembrance as to why he was in the office in the first place. ‘’Ummm yep I’m fine, was just wondering where exactly the paperwork is in here, I uh can’t find it.’’

John rose a questioning eyebrow. ‘’It should be in the bottom right draw, that’s what Scott said earlier…’’

Virgil quickly bent down and opened said drawer to take a look. ‘’Ah yes, here it is…ummm thankyou John…’’ He put the papers on the desk.

John frowned at him but didn’t say anything. ‘’No problem…I’m down in the hangers now prepping Tracy Two for flight, I’ll see you down here in a minute.’’ And with that John cut the call.

‘’Few!’’ Virgil wiped the non-existent sweat of his forehead. ‘’That was close.’’ Then he paused…wait…why am I hiding this from John?...It’s just a small button...I could ask him what it does!...but then, does John know about it?...and If he does, then why hasn’t he told me about it?...

Wanting answers to his ever-growing list of questions. Virgil proceeded to grab the gum and got back down on his hands and knees before crawling under the desk once again. Placing the gum over his own finger with the copied fingerprinted side facing outwards. He then stretched his hand towards the button. Before pausing centimetres away…Why did he feel so stupid all of a sudden…Virgil outwardly laughed at himself. Here he was sitting under a desk, gum on his finger as he stared at a simple small button…It’s probably just some dumb prank Gordon had come up with…though it is clever Virgil would give him that…but then…Gordon hasn’t been in the office since…Actually, I can’t remember the last time Gordon had ever been in here…so…unlikely to be prank…but then…what is it doing here?…and why do I need to know what it does so badly?...

Then before he could think twice he had pressed the button.

…

To Virgil, the silence seemed to last a lifetime. Though in reality it was only seconds.

Then something happened.

It worked; the button lit up green before its entire cover flipped up to reveal a small silver control switch hidden underneath.

‘’Oh, come on!’’ he groaned…Now this is odd…Virgil stared at the switch suddenly fearful of its existence…First fingerprint recognition, then a protective cover for a hidden control switch…and don’t forget the fact that this is hidden on the underside of the desk…in the office of all places…What does this switch do to need so much protection?…It must be still active…I mean I got this far…Though that was using Scott’s fingerprints…And why does Scott have access using the fingerprint recognition, but I don’t?…But before Virgil could make another thought the holoprojector on top of the desk connected again.

‘’Virgil?’’

Oh no, it was John again.

‘’Virgil, where are you?’’

Virgil got out from under the desk and stood up to get back into viewing range of the holoprojector. ‘’Here John...just ummm…checking the desks legs…I thought one may be wobbly or something.’’ God he hated lying, and he knew he wasn’t good at it either.

John looked sceptical. ‘’Oooook…well I have to go within the next ten minutes so…can you bring me the papers now…I kind of need them.’’

Virgil mentally cursed himself, of course! How had he forgotten about John and his TI meeting in New York. That’s why he was in the office in the first place, to get the paperwork John needed. ‘’Yep, I’ll be right there bro.’’ And with that Virgil quickly cut the call. Ok so John was definitely going to have questions now. Quickly going about putting everything in the office back to the way it was before he came in. Virgil then grabbed the desired paperwork off the desk and raced out of the room to meet John. The hidden mystery under the desk completely forgotten.

[just-a-space-nugget]

Half-Life: The Employer AU

@sepko1 ‘s Gordon Geeman (or Freeman Immortal) has inspired me to revisit my own “Gman Gordon.” Funny enough, I made my Gman Gordon around the same time Sepko’s came about so I’ve had to change a lot to my own cause well.. mine was REAL SIMILAR to their’s lmao! But I feel like mine is more than just a “Gman” if you feel me? Mine is more like “the employer” in my eyes.

I may make a small “Au” or something around him. It would involve Sepko’s Geeman and even a few other people’s “Gman” type characters. Just because well the nature of the characters is based around the idea of multiple “Gmen” type people, being the employees. Each Universe has its own “Gman” that maintains the universe and each individual timeline they contain.

But the Employer. Who is the Employer? The Employer is the one who oversees all Universes, all timelines, all employees. Wouldn’t it be interesting.. if the Employer turned out to be a Gordon Freeman? Possibly even the very first instance of Gordon to exist in the Half-Life Universe. The Gordon from the very first timeline. The one who set the president for all. That would be my “Gman Gordon”

I’ve posted this before but here is the og Drawing. I may do a new one.

More info below if you are interested in my thoughts and ideas.

He would wear an edgy version of Gordon’s Black Mesa Uniform. His glasses would be tinted to conceal his eyes. He also has an HEV suit he sometimes wears that is also in more dark edgy colors rather than orange to keep him hidden. He can be seen holding a black mesa brief case (like Gman) but is more commonly seen holding a Black Mesa clipboard with what feels like infinite paper but only appears to have two or three sheets on it at all times.

Depending on what he wants to look at or what he needs the second or next page of the clipboard changes. The first page is always the cover of the Black Mesa employee handbook.

He barely retains any of his original self. He purposefully suppresses his human side to keep himself focused on his job. He still has his own Universe. He no longer maintains it, instead he has left it in the hands of the og Gman who he employed long ago to keep it safe. He occasionally visits it. It serves as a place where he can go to think and feel “at home.” Deep inside he mourns his Universe. Mourns a time when he was still human. Now he knows that all instances of himself and the people he cares for despise him. Even though no one knows he is the “Employer” (except those he has employed) everyone always thinks the ideals of the many Gmen and their employer are working against them since they seem to have done nothing but harm their ways of life, emotions, and morals. Gordon The Employer has to face the fact that everyone he cared for now want him and his plans dead. When all he wishes to do is keep all timelines and Universes flowing. He wants to do what is best for each instance of everyone including himself.

After all if he had never made the choice to pull The Freeman into stasis for 20 years, who would stop the Combine? How would things have played out? Yes the choice to force Alyx into employment is morally wrong, but those are human morals. When it comes to the greater good of the universe and its timelines, human morals do not apply.

Time is not a concept that applies to The Employer. He is everywhere, anywhere, yet no where all at once. He is a singular entity but is sometimes referred to in the plural as “The Employers”

Alternative Universes and timelines of each are constantly appearing, constantly changing, evolving. The Employer must be able to handle the task of assigning each new universe with its own set of boundaries, key events each iteration of the first timeline must follow, and its very own Gman that must abide by these rules and maintain the new Universe accordingly. It is not an easy job, but he has done it since the beginning of time and deep at his core he is still a scientist, and scientists thrive in challenges such as these. And with each Universe came new challenges, new threats to his plans and to the plot each timeline should follow. As time goes on he realizes a pattern all instances of himself, Eli, Alyx, and in some cases Vortiguants have begun to rebel against his employees. A Little deviation from the core plot is not is not a big deal, things can be nudged to fix such things, but too much is seen as a threat and must be dealt with accordingly.

Each “Employee” or “Gman” must stem from somewhere. The Employer originally kept to a strict pattern of using different variations of the same “Gman” across universes. But eventually he saw the potential for employing those he cared for, especially ones from timelines where he saw they had potential. Slowly The Employer began to replace original “Gmen” with the newly trained and employed Employees. All was well, he even spoke with them individually, assisting (as best he could) with their transition from being human to a “Gman” including the emotional and mental strain that can cause. (However with his own emotionless habits it proved to be less than effective or comforting for the others.)

All was well. Until he decided to try and employ.. himself. And thats where Sepko’s Geeman comes in.

At first he does nothing but watch from a far. When the gman set to maintain and train the new Employee turns up missing, and his other Employees’ ties to the Universe are served, he has no choice but to personally intervene. For the first time since the beginning of time he has to step out of the shadows and introduce himself to the rest of the Half-Life Universe. Having no choice but to collaborate with the Alyx and Vortiguants of this Universe in order to come up with a solution. At first it does not go as planned. Everyone in the universe rejects him and attacks him. Never giving him a chance to introduce himself or speak. Simply mistaking him for the rouge employee.. or The Freeman Immortal. Having to actually interact with those he cared about for the first time in… a while.. is challenging. Not just for the obvious reasons but because it touched the side of him he had long since suppressed. The Gordon Freeman part of him.

[xixovart]

my rrverse headcanons that i will save in my drafts until it explodes

possible tw for mentions of weaponry and violence!! (bullet point no.5)

nico with heterochromia?? im?

a LOT of aphrodite kids are pansexual. somethinf about love knowing no bounds or restrictions to gender because love is a connection to the soul or whatever

actually on that idea a lot of aphrodite kids are under the non binary umbrella :)

spreading the deaf will solace agenda

annabeth goes to a shooting range to relieve stress

she got that from thalia

i just need you to picture how unbelievably destroyed thalia must’ve been when they told her about luke.

alex fierro really likes cupcakes. but he’s like. ashamed of it?? for some reason

one time magnus walked in on her while she was eating some red velvet? hilarious interaction.

“magnus it’s not what ir looks like i swear.”

”what? you use someone’s blood to make those?”

rip bianca di angelo you would’ve loved ratatouille. i don’t know.

kayla really likes mac n cheese. i really don’t know.

chris wnd beckendorf have an unmatched ‘our gfs are best friends but ngl we’re kinda gay for each other’ bromance

percy is REAAALLLYYY good at makeup

thalia is surprisingly good at volleyball?

frank once accidentally knocked down an entire grocery store isle… somehow.

hazel really likes ladybugs

“long day?” “tell me about it. keep em coming.” except it’s kayla pouring will grape soda into a wine glass when they were 12 after a day in the infirmary

unpopular opinion: will relentlessly finds loopholes for rules (and sometimes blatantly breaks them) while nico hates rule-breaking. one was raised in rich 1940s europe and the other is texan. guess who.

annabeth and will bonded over their shared love of true crime podcasts

hazel gossips like a hairstylist

“don’t look at me like that, you’re not my real dad 😒” -11 year old annabeth to chiron after the ares cabin caught fire “unexpectedly. somehow. for no reason.”

percy used to swims in fountains and steals people’s coins

piper blasts chappell roan at unhealthy volumes. so does will. they bond over that

zoë nightshade was in the theater abe lincoln was killed in. don’t know where this came from.

piper and leo were the most chaotic duo that wilderness school ever bore witness to. there were several science room “accidents.” and the food in the kitchens went missing every week “unexpectedly”

magnus hearth and blitz used to sit on rooftops and throw water balloons at tourists. fathers-son bonding i lobe them

frank likes tarzan and kung fu panda an unhealthy amount (he was a horrible influence on hazel)

hazel once made random hand signals at a boy who was bothering her told him she cursed him

bianca was surprisingly good at sports?

thalia had to put saran wrap on every outlet in the house for two months when jason was a year old because he would NOT stop sticking his fingers in them

reyna cannot cook. she only knows how to make a surprisingly good lemonade. it’s insane.

hedge, on the other hand, is a freaking chef. he’s like the love child of a really smart goat and gordon ramsay

annabeth and thalia are both master pickpockets because of their time on the road

luke had a soft spot for gummy bears

silena was very calm and collected but the SECOND this girl stepped FOOT in a rage room she lost her SHIR

mallory hates math. like actually loathes math.

magnus is math smart and mallory is english smart

(book 1) halfborn and magnus are the prank lords of floor 19

alex joined them the second he showed up (he destroyed half the hotel withing his first 24 minutes there? duh?)

cecil hates twizzlers

lou ellen cecil and will are VERY competitive go kart-ers

rachel and hazel are artist buddies and go on drawing dates

chiron gets father’s day presents

someone proposed the idea of achilles and patroclus training nico post-ttc and pre-botl???? stop right now im losing my mind i love this

spreading the multilingual nico agenda

mr. d gave will his tattoo

grover and percy unironically watch rom coms every saturday while eating vegan candy and cry for the characters

grover and rachel’s friendship is INCREDIBLY??? underrated

i think we forget that grover bianca and nico went to school together and bianca and grover were friends. imagine the chaos.

lester and kayla had regular arm wrestling matches (kayla always won btw)

whenever austin’s mad at his cabinmates he wakes them up at the asscrack of drawn by playing we are the champions on his flute.

idk why but malcolm seems very gumball coded.

“wait, where are you going?” “to the brony convention in lietchenstein. where do you think im going????” -canon conversation between malcolm and annabeth

wasian grace siblings wasian grace siblings wasian grace siblings.

ethan is a really bad liar in non-greek related matters

will’s love language is that he points at literally the two most random things and says “us” to nico

“nico look it’s us!! :D” “solace those are two dead leaves on the floor” “yeah but they’re next to each other :)”

sally knows taekwondo. no one knows when or how she learned, she just does and it’s terrifying

alabaster is a plant mom

dakota seems like the type of kid to slump so deep in a chair that he ends up falling off. and then he just like. lays there.

castor and pollux have a concerning attraction to fire

travis stoll likes strawberries :)

connor stoll chunks strawberries at travis from half a km away and calls is “aiming practice”

katie has the temper of a chihuahua

(post-tlo) percy and clarisse pretend to hate each other but they’re actually friends who fight like siblings and it’s surprisingly endearing?

[wheelchairbatgirl]

Every wheelchair in the 2002 event Bruce Wayne, Murderer, reviewed by me.

There are 13 issues in Bruce Wayne: Fugitive, many of which include pictures of wheelchairs.

The event starts out with a one-shot, and then Detective Comics #766, which had no wheelchair.

So here we start with Batgirl #23. Jumping right in with Barbara grabbing the entire tire instead of using her push rim. We don’t have enough wheelchair to rate and yet our rule of “no push rim = -1 point” has already come into effect.

I’ll talk about it later, but this series of Batgirl often goes to very odd camera angles to avoid drawing Babs’ wheelchair.

Nightwing #65. We only have three rules here on Wheelchair Batgirl, which is that we deduct one point from any time that someone is using the tire instead of the push rim, without a good reason. The other rule is that we deduct a point every time Barbara Gordon’s wheelchair specifically has push handles on the back. I know I’ve never talked about that rule before, because I just made it up right now, but it’s a rule.

I get that Barb appears to like her wheelchair backs up super high. That’s her right, so I won’t complain about it anymore, even though it’d drive me insane. But all we can see here is high-back with push handles. So we’re at -2 points and we haven’t even had anything worth rating.

Quick note for people who don’t have to worry about wheelchair parts in their daily life: push rims are the extra bars on the wheels of the chairs. You push your wheels with the push rims so tha tyou’re not grabbing a dirty tire all the time. Push handles are the handles on the back of a wheelchair to make it easier for someone to push you and to steer. A good Barbara Gordon wheelchair should have yes to push rims and no to push handles, because she doesn’t like to be pushed around. This is a canon fact and not my sole opinion.

Batman: Gotham Knights #65.

Finally, we get a chair that clearly has no push handles. Good job. It does seem like she’s grabbing the tire instead one of the panels, but I’m not going to count that because it could be just for simplicity of drawing.

This wheelchair gets 9/10 based on what we can see.

Birds of Prey #39

Finally, a clear few wheelchair shots. We have push rims. We have camber. It looks relatively consistent from panel-to-panel. It’s not a hospital looking wheelchair. It sort of looks like what I’d expect a good Barbara Wheelchair from this time to look like.

I do have a quick question about the mechanism under this chair. Not sure how that works or what it does. Looks cool, thought.

8/10 because good dog why are there push handles on this chair, you all know better than to do that.

Robin #98 actually had no wheelchairs.

Robin #99 has, uh. This lovely little cartoon of a wheelchair, which I find very endearing. No push handles. Full points.

Also it’s got Babs telling my favorite joke of “I brought my own chair,” so I had to screencap that. I think a lot of authors are afraid to have wheelchair users make jokes or even make reference to the fact that they use a wheelchair. Most wheelchair users that I’ve met don’t mind telling jokes or referencing it. Me making a joke and me being a joke are different things.

The next wheelchairs we get are in Nightwing #66, and boy do we get wheelchairs. I love this wheelchair. It looks like a good custom chair for an active user. It’s consistent. It makes sense. It’s got a good camber and a good front angle and no push handles. She grabs her push rims instead of her tires. This is my favorite depiction of her chair in my reading thus far. Side guards and no arm rests.

These get 10/10, best wheelchair so far.

We also have the one non-Barbara wheelchair, which is for someone I can’t remember. Clearly a high level of injury because of the Sip n Puff (which is a tool to let someone with no arm movement operate a device of some kind). It’s clear that the artist understood that wheelchairs aren’t universal, and need to be customized for the user.

And we close down the event with Birds of Prey #40.

The push handles. They’re back. Well, handle, because apparently she’s got a single stroller handle. I will say that i love the picture of her leaning her arm on the push handle. I did that a lot back when I had push handles. It’s a comfy position. Pretty okay wheelchair, too. 7/10.*——

So our score so far is 42/50, or 8.4/10. We truncate, to 8/10 for Bruce Wayne: Murderer?

Final summary on the event: The fact that everyone’s superhero costume is clearly defined and looks consistent from every angle even across multiple authors can’t be ignored. The fact that no one decided to say, “Hi, this is what her wheelchair looks like from every angle,” is probably because it was/is policy to keep the heroes consistent and the rest of the world up to the artist, but I think it really would have helped everyone who hasn’t had time to research how wheelchairs are selected for a user.

I bought some physical Birds of Prey comics at a junk shop near my work, and they date to about 2008, and just by looking inside of them I can tell that our wheelchair quality is going to go down in the future. So here’s me being optimistic and nice.