#i'm actually happy that they're finally add something hard
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got me jumpscared O_O why it's 29
#yunatalks#bandori#i'm actually happy that they're finally add something hard#but no.#i'm not happy at all#another roselia song i won't fc yay
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Hi Hi! I wasn't sure if you're open but can I request a Alastor x reader who is a charlie's older sister and she is alastor's fiance. They never told their hotel friends, basically they're in a secret relationship, until Lucifer arrived (from episode 5 dad beat dad) and announced she's engaged. but no body knew who her fiance was until alastor popped up behind her and pressed a kiss on her. Charlie's happy and Lucifer D:
As soon as I saw this request I immediately ran to make this meme, lmao I'm sorry 😭
anywho, here we go lmao
Summary: You’re Lucifer's eldest and, much like Charlie, you’re desperate to have his support and approval---he’s your dad, of course you are. So, when he finally visits the hotel, you can't wait to tell him that you're engaged. And he's overjoyed...that is, until he finds out that you're engaged to the Radio Demon. What happens when your fiancé and your dad start feuding over you, forcing you to pick a side? Your family, or the love of your life?
Tags: Alastor x Fem!Reader, No Use of (Y/N), Reader is Lucifer's Eldest, Secret Relationship, Lucifer has a heart attack bc Alastor, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, we're just gonna pretend Alastor has been at the hotel a longer time than in canon bc Plot, Charlie is a Good Sister
TW: None <3
Word Count: 2.6k
Read it on Ao3 <3
When you'd first met Alastor, you had been…skeptical of him, to say the least.
To be completely honest, you’d hated him—and that was putting it lightly. You hated how condescending he was, you hated the fact that he clearly had ulterior motives, you hated that he kept everything about himself a secret, you hated his damn smile, you hated…him!
And the feeling was definitely mutual.
Alastor hated your obvious distrust of him, he hated the fact that you neither feared nor respected him, he hated the way you’d constantly tell Charlie and the others to be wary of him, he hated the way you always seemed to get in the way of his plans, he hated…you!
And no matter how many lessons Charlie had on friendship and trust—lessons that she forced the two of you to attend, I might add—or how many lectures about how the two of you needed to get along or how much she begged the two of you to stop fighting, nothing ever worked.
But…then something changed.
At some point between then and now, the two of you began to soften and learn more about each other---often against your will, and your wishes---and you found...that you had more in common than previously thought.
You both preferred radio to television, you both had a love and penchant for cooking, you both enjoyed quite a few of the same novels, and on and on it went. And those similarities brought the two of you closer together and, although neither of you ever wanted to admit it, you actually began to get along. Eventually, after enough time had passed, the two of you managed to forget why you didn't get along in the first place---all of it becoming a distant memory.
Of course, one thing led to another, and now you were lucky enough to have a pretty little ring on your left hand---not married yet, but soon to be.
Obviously none of the others knew about any of this, by both of your wishes. You were both private people and, knowing everyone else, they would ask questions and the two of you would end up having to spill your entire life's stories to finally get them to leave it be---and even that wasn't guaranteed!
So, to avoid the drama of it all, you just...kept things quiet. Private.
It wasn't particularly hard---Alastor wasn't much of a PDA person, especially in public; neither of you were particularly big fans of pet names; your dates were always fairly simple; and the two of you had your own jobs within the hotel to attend to, so half the time you weren't even in each other's presence.
It was...nice. Having someone to lean on, being able to see another side of Alastor---and having him all to yourself. No one else had him like you did, and you preferred it that way. Of course, though, all good things had to come to an end.
Your and Charlie's father, Lucifer, was coming to the hotel for the first time and---knowing him---it'd be the last, so now was possibly your only chance to tell him about your engagement in person.
Part of you was nervous, considering that you hadn't even told him---or anyone else---you were dating someone and now you were just going to spring an engagement on all of them, but another part of you was relieved and excited. Obviously, you would miss the privacy, but who knew? Maybe everyone's constant curiosity wouldn't bother you as much as you thought, and you might actually end up enjoying a more public relationship.
One where you could kiss him whenever you pleased, instead of being forced to wait until the two of you were alone; one where you could wish him goodbye with an "I love you," instead of snarky "don't die" on the way out; one where you could simply blow off any potential suitors with an "I'm married," instead of having to convince them that you really weren't interested in dating. Maybe all of that would be nice too.
"Nervous?" Alastor asked, the static overlay of his voice drawing you out of your thoughts. You turned away from the mirror you were looking into, instead turning your attention to your beloved---his ever-present smile softening as he looked at you.
"A little, I just..." you sighed, "I just want this to go well, but---knowing my dad---he's going to freak out and it'll be a whole thing."
He chuckled and stepped forward until he was close enough to brush a stray piece of hair out of your face, "not to worry, my dear, I'm sure everything will go just fine."
"But-"
"And if it doesn't," he continued, "I'll be by your side to help you fix it all. You won't be alone."
You smiled and let him draw you into a chaste kiss, some of your tension dissipating in his presence. Somehow he always knew how to make you feel better.
"What would I ever do without you?" You asked, gently cupping his face.
He tilted his head slightly to press another kiss to your palm, "you'll never have to find out."
Suddenly the unmistakable sound of Charlie's voice made its way up to your shared room, introducing everything and everyone in the hotel to---who you assumed to be---your father. So there was no more preparing yourself for it, now you just had to do. Besides, maybe Alastor was right, maybe he'd take the announcement better than you thought.
There was only one way to find out.
----------
"WHAT??? HIM???"
He did not, in fact, take it better than you thought.
You tried to wait for the perfect time to break the news, but---of course---your dad had immediately spotted the ring on your finger- (a detail that, somehow, everyone else had missed) -and pressed you for more information, his actual reason for visiting long forgotten. By both him and everyone else, apparently.
Getting a meeting with Heaven was suddenly playing second fiddle to everyone's curiosity about who you'd been dating behind their backs---who you were now engaged to. So, after a lot of pressing and pressing, you'd finally relented and admitted that it was Alastor. Which had led to...all of this.
Charlie was vibrating off the walls, everyone else was in various states of shock, and your dad...looked like he was in the middle of a mental breakdown.
"You can't- I mean-" He laughed, more than a little hysterical, "you're not actually engaged to him, are you?"
Before you could answer, Alastor cut in---a sharp edge coloring his tone.
"Why wouldn't she be?"
Your father's attention switched from you to Alastor, practically seething as he looked at him. You couldn't see Alastor's face from your place beside him, but you could tell that the feeling was mutual by the crackling electricity that crawled across your skin.
"Have you ever fucking met you?" Your father asked incredulously.
"Yes, and I'm very lucky to have her," Alastor responded, punctuating his statement with a gentle kiss on your cheek---a kiss obviously done just to piss your father off, since you knew Alastor wasn't exactly fond of public affection.
The tension was thick in the air as the two just stood there, glaring at each other.
Then finally, your father laughed.
"Alright then..."
Jazzy, upbeat, music suddenly came out of nowhere, and—before you had any time to process what was happening—you were drawn into your father’s song and dance number, the world around you shifting to follow his words.
“Looks like you could use some help, from the big boss of Hell himself! Obviously, since I don’t know how you could’ve felt that this–”
One voice, “Bastard!”
Two, “Jackass!”
Three, “Arrogant piece of shit!”
Back to your father, “–would ever make a suitable husband! Especially for you, did you forget?”
He twirled you around until you were in an elegant dress and crown, falling backwards onto a throne.
“You’re a princess of Hell, so better yet! Rather than an old outdated crook—who’s probably just using you for your station, at least from the looks—why not let your dad give you pick of the lot?” He snapped his fingers, new people appearing with every beat, “men, women, or those in between; outgoing royalty or someone serene, anything but this walking tomato lookin’ prick—you could have anyone, so just take your pick!”
A streak of shadow suddenly shoved your father to the side, Alastor appearing in his place with a charming grin—his shadow twirling around you like it was trying to hold you.
“My dear it’s true that you’re one of a kind—everything anyone could ask for, a very rare find,” he knelt before you and kissed your hand, “I’m a very lucky sinner to call you my own, to stand by your side as you sit on your throne.”
He then moved to sit on the arm of your throne, pulling you into his side, “however I have to agree that someone around here is a crook, but it’s certainly not me, so let’s take a look!”
The first person he picked out of the crowd was Charlie, his shadow minions bringing her forward dressed in her own royal attire, “your darling sister, who’s been by your side—supporting you through your troubles, high or low tide!”
Next came the other residents, dressed in their own fancy clothing, although less detailed than yours and your sister’s, “your close hotel friends, do you dare suspect them? Even though they’ve proven they’d follow you to the end?”
Finally he knelt in front of you again, dressed in his own royal attire and placing a golden ring on your left ring finger, “or do you truly think it could be me, your doting husband-to-be? Could I be the traitor despite the love, trust, and devotion I’ve given to you, or everything I’ve done to prove that my affection is true?”
“Of course not! You know that, so why don’t you see?” Suddenly your father was shoved forward like a criminal, the shadows dressing him in peasant style clothing, “the only traitor around here is this snake, does he take you for Eve?”
“Excuse me?” Your father asked incredulously, pushing back the shadows and reappearing in his usual clothing.
“Trying to lead you to darkness with his tricks and lies, wanting you to be miserable and lonely instead of by my side.”
“Hold on now–”
“All this unsupportive jargon, telling you how you should live your life,” Alastor practically snarled, looking your father dead in the eye, “no wonder that this bastard was left by his wife.”
Your head was left spinning as things quickly switched between your father playing a golden fiddle, to your fiance interrupting him on a vintage piano—the two practically seething at each other before turning their attention back to you.
First Alastor, “my dear, why don’t you pick your own path, instead of listening to this stick in the mud?”
Then your father, “why choose a shitty partner over your own blood?”
And that is how it went.
“And pick a deadbeat father, nothing more than a dud? Wouldn’t you rather find happiness with the family you choose?”
Over.
“Yeah, sure, pick a bunch of losers–”
And over.
“Can you butt out of my song?”
And over.
“Your song? I started this!”
Until finally–
“I’m singing it, I’ll finish it!”
You had had enough.
“Oh you tacky piece of sh–”
"JUST STOP!" You shouted, bringing their argument to a screeching halt and drawing a deadly silence into the room, "for fuck's sake---how can the two of you not see your own hypocrisy?! Even when it's sitting right in front of you!"
The two of them stared at you, wide eyed, but you kept going before they could respond.
"You're arguing over what's best for me, while not even fucking asking me what I want! This isn't even about me, this is about the two of you hating each other," you took a breath, desperately blinking back tears, "well you know what? BOTH of you are hurting me! BOTH of you are ignoring my wishes! BOTH of you are treating me like shit! And I don't want to fucking be around EITHER OF YOU!"
And without another word you turned on your heel and left the hotel.
----------
The moment you heard footsteps coming near you, you flipped around and snarled---prepared to snap at your father or Alastor, whichever one decided to come kiss your ass to one-up the other. But, instead, you only found Charlie standing behind you, a concerned look on her face.
You immediately turned away from her and wiped your eyes, not wanting your little sister to see you like this, but she didn’t seem to mind—just sitting beside you and resting her head on your shoulder as you sniffled.
After a moment, you broke the silence.
“I just…I don’t understand,” you said, voice shaking, “they’ve known each other for five fucking minutes and already hate each other. Why can’t they just get along for me? Do I seriously matter that little to them?”
Charlie was quiet for a moment, mind churning.
“I don’t necessarily think that’s it,” her voice was quiet as she spoke, as if she was thinking through each word, “I think that, for the first time ever, both of them are dealing with the fact that they might not be the most important man in your life and…I guess this is just their way of reacting to that.”
You turned to her, eyebrows raising, and she continued to explain.
“Family is important to you, Alastor knows that, but he hasn’t had to…complete, I guess, with anyone for his place by your side before—so, when dad showed up and openly disapproved of him, I think he just got scared that you’d leave him because of what dad thinks,” she took a breath, still thinking through her words, “dad, on the other hand, has always been the one who you’d run to for everything—if you were scared, sad, happy, or needed help, he was the one you’d go to. Now you have Alastor and that’s who you go to for everything, so I think dad just got scared that you wouldn’t need him anymore now that you’re getting married.”
“Congratulations, by the way,” she added wryly, squeezing your arm with a smile.
You gave her a small smile back, “how’d you ever get to be so smart?”
“I learned from the best.”
You sighed, “I just wish they’d get over themselves, I can—in fact—have more than one important man in my life, there’s not a fucking limit.”
“Yeah well…men can be stupid, I guess.”
You snorted and pulled her close, gently ruffling her hair, “you’ve got that right…between you and me, though, I like you better than both of them.”
Charlie giggled and hugged you, the two of you inseparable, just like when you were kids. You took a little longer to just breathe and enjoy the sweet moment with your sister, before finally releasing her.
She then got up and dusted off her suit, bright smile now firmly back in place, “now, let’s head back! I’m pretty sure Vaggie’s already got them working on their apologies, and I already have so many ideas for a new lesson plan on: selflessness and communication!”
You shook your head, but didn’t manage to quite hide your smile. Whatever happened, at least you would always have Charlie by your side…and Alastor and your father, if the two could manage not to kill each other.
“Those apologies better not be in fucking song format.”
“…I’ll text Angel.”
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader#devotion's posts: requests🪻#devotion’s posts: fic stuff 🪻
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Faster n Harder- Matt Sturniolo
I can't fucking stand him. the constant eye fucking me through the window is driving me insane, how does he get to do this to me? he doesn't even know me! it's infuriating!
*FLASHBACK*
"Y/N! WE HAVE NEW NEIGHBOURS!" my roommate, Sabrina, yells to me. "and that's my business, how?" i retort, in all honesty I couldn't give two shits about the new neighbours, for all i care, they can suck my dick, "girl, they're triplets! and ones gay, he can join girls night!" Sabrina squeals, why's she so happy about this? "no thanks, I'm antisocial" i state before throwing myself onto my bed "now disappear, I'm tryna watch my beautiful self in Cobra Kai" i say as I wave her off "Y/N, girl, you might wanna close those curtains of yours, Matt, the middle triplet, he's gonna be in the room opposite your window, and we ALL know how you walk around your room in literally just a bra and mini shorts" she giggles at me before skipping out of my room. "BECAUSE IT'S HOT OUT!" i yell before reluctantly getting off of my bed, accidentally making eye contact with the boy next door, he types on his phone before holding it up to the window 'Cute bra, the bow really adds detail' I read from the screen "WEIRDO!" i yell before closing the curtains
*PRESENT DAY*
"Y/N, IM INVITING PEOPLE OVER!" Sabrina yells, it's muffled for me, I'm listening to straight bangers, 6arelyhuman please wife me up.
"So I party like a rockstar, look like a pornstar!" i sing along to the song , my hands running up and down my body as i dance around my bedroom, 80s rock bands (such as, Mötley Crüe, Guns n Roses, Metallica etc etc) tapestrys and posters littered across the walls, before settling down at my vanity and reapplying a couple layers of black lipstick, "Cause I go faster and harder, faster and harder" the lyrics echo through my room, I toss the lipstick back into my makeup bag before walking over to my closet "black, black, black, white, black, black, pink? when did that get there?" i mumble to myself as I flick through articles of clothing "aha! finally" i squeal as I grab a 'Sex Pistols: The Filth and The Fury' tank top, pairing it with some denim mini shorts and neutral grey Air Jordan 1's
"p-p-p-p-party like a rockstar, look like a pornstar, everyday i go hard riding in my sports car" i sing along to the song as I pull the outfit on.
{MATTS POV}
the neighbour, Sabrina I think her name is, just invited me and my brother's over, i already know her roommates here because I can hear her fucking music, she has this thing where it's never loud enough, normally I wouldn't care, but it's always sexual songs, yesterday it was 'Yummy- Ayesha Erotica' and 'Or Nah- The Weeknd' and now? 'Faster n Harder' I don't even know who it's by, but it's driving me insane, she's always dancing along to it too, how do I know? because her curtains are always open, no matter what, it's like she wants me to stare...
"Matt, kid, you good?" my brother, nick, asks me, snapping me out of my thoughts, "yeah, uh, where's the bathroom at? I've gotta fuckin piss" i ask Sabrina, she points upstairs and tells me it's the first door on the right, as I walk up the stairs the music gets louder, should I go in? no that's fucking weird Matt don't be a freak.....
"party like a rockstar, look like a pornstar!" her voice echoes
...fuck it
{Y/N POV}
the vibe is fucking ruined the second my door opens, Matt? what the fucks he doing here "ew perv! get out of my room, what are you doing here! actually don't answer that I don't give a fuck! get out!" i say as I shove him out, only resulting in him pinning me against the wall, my hands above my head as he holds them there, 'whys this hot at fuck?' ew gross, don't think that
"ever since I moved next door you have been constantly teasing me, and now? now I'm gonna do something about it" he says as he stares into my eyes, his pupils blown, the look of lust covering his face "oh yeah? what're you gonna do? huh?" i taunt "well first, I'm gonna rip those pretty little shorts off of you, then I'm gonna tear that shirt off, and then I'm gonna bend you over and fuck that perfect little pussy of yours" he says, and holy fuck I am drenched.
his hands reach the button of my shorts, frantically undoing the zipper and unbuttoning them before shoving them down my legs "arms up" Matt commands, his voice rough and eager, I do as he says, i want this, scratch that, need this, he pulls my shirt off and tosses it across my room before shoving me onto the bed "you were right.. you do look like a pornstar" he says as his eyes scan my body "turn around, face down ass up" I comply, rolling onto my stomach and arching my back, *slap* his hand connects with my ass, the pain mixing with pleaser causing me to whimper "shhh pretty girl, don't want anyone hearing us do we?" he says, lowly "please" i beg "please what? Y/N, what do you want? you want me to fuck you?" he coos in a condescending manner "shut up, I'm not fucking saying it" i say as i roll my eyes "only time your eyes are gonna be rolling is when im fucking you, is that clear?" matt growls as he unbuckles his belt and kicks the door shut "whatever" i scoff before his belt connects with my ass "careful, or I'm gonna fuck that attitude out of you" he warns. "do it pussy, you won't" i challenge, gasping as I feel his tip rub against my soaked panties "I'm gonna fucking ruin you" he whispers into my ear before tearing my panties off of me and slamming into me, giving me no time to adjust "aye dios mio!" i cry out "shut the fuck up, we don't need everyone knowing how much of a whore you are for me" Matt mutters as he covers my mouth, his hips slapping against my ass as he plunges in and out of me. "f-fuck Matt, fucking me so good" i moan, my voice muffled by his hand "yeah? you like me fucking you like the slut you are?" he asks as he snakes his hand around my waist and down to my clit, rubbing at it with a slow pace, before increasing it by an insane amount, my cunt clenching around his cock as a warm sensation bubbles up in my lower stomach "oh my god" i whimper "not god, me" matt says as he pounds into me, hitting my G-spot perfectly "fuck! Matt I'm so close" i moan, he slaps my ass again "hold it." he demands as he takes his hand off of my mouth and wraps it around my neck "open your eyes sweetheart, want you to watch yourself in the mirror while I fuck you" he groans as he presses wet kisses to my neck, i look into the mirror, immediately making eye contact with him as he grabs my hair and yanks me up, my back pressing against his chest as he repeatedly fucks into me faster and harder "Matt im begging you, please let me cum, i need to cum, i cant hold it anymore" i plead, tears of pleasure rolling down my face "let go for me pretty girl, give me all you got" Matt groans as he somehow thrusts into me faster.
I let out an almost pornographic moan as I cum over his cock, my legs shaking and my eyes rolling back, i feel him twitch inside of me, "where do you want it?" he asks, his voice low and breathy, "inside, please, need it inside of me" I blabber, that's all Matt needs to hear as his warm seed shoots into me, ropes and ropes of hot sticky cum coating my walls as he moans into the nape of my neck, thrusting into me a couple more times before pulling out "fuck, i should've done that sooner" he chuckles lowly as he presses a soft kiss to my head "lay down, beautiful, I'll clean you up" Matt whispers as he walks into the bathroom grabbing a cloth and turning the warm water on, coating the cloth with it before making his way back to me "feelin' okay?" Matt asks as he presses soft kisses to my inner thighs before gently wiping the towel over my sensitive pussy "yeah" i whisper "c'mon, we can cuddle and watch some shitty movie" Matt says as he lays beside me, pulling my black silk sheets over us and wrapping his arm around my waist...
thank god sabrina invited them over today
the outfit I described because the link is being a cunt:
TAGLIST !!
@nedsmarie44 @hoesformatt @muwapsturniolo @guccifrog @thenickgirl @mattslolita @ssqra @mattsivy @luverboychris
#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#smut#Spotify
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Hii, firstly I LOVE ur writing so much, you’re really talented 🌟💘
Congrats on 200 followers, SOOOO DESERVED!!!
I was wondering if you could do 27+r for Bruce 🥰 something like he left to protect her, it hurt him more than anything and he realized that it was mistake and wants her back. Happy ending tho, I’m a sucker for that haha 😄❤️
Thank you in advance, much love! 🫶🏻
“You left me” / “I was protecting you” / “You LEFT me” + Protecting you x Bale!Bruce
Words: 15.8k words
Warnings: Angst, infidelity, cheating, lots of angst, pregnancy, break-up, suggestive themes and one (1) very poorly written and short nsfw scene (it's like 5 lines long I think), one (1) death, Bruce Wayne being a mess (relatable), a lot of heartbreak and pining, not proofread. I literally wrote this in a span of like, one week, and it's not proofread, so oh my god I'm so sorry if there's anything wrong with it...
A/N: Oh my god. Hello everyone. Holy fuck. Okay so, I hope you guys are interested to know what the fuck happened here. I don't want to waste any more time (the explanation is quite big), so I'll add it after the fic, in the final Author Note. Small context: I got two requests that were kinda similar, so I decided to mix the two together!
Just a heads up, due to reasons that I'll expand on at the end, I feel like the end drags on a bit. I did not proofread because I was a bit saturated with this piece, and I think that at some point, I actually cried because I was panicking real hard.
Anyway!!! I love Bruce!!!! I hope you guys enjoy this <3
Bruce knew you were the one after you'd first spilled coffee all over his suit.
You just looked so worried, your pretty eyes wide with fear as you tried to think of what to say to this stranger you'd just bumped into – or so he thought. You, in fact, knew exactly what you wanted to say to him.
"Hey! Watch where you're going, asshole!" you'd exclaimed, looking at what remained of your iced coffee. "This thing was almost 10 dollars, what am I supposed to do now?"
Bruce eyed you up and down, honestly surprised you had the guts to raise your voice at him. Didn't you know who he was? Did you simply not care?
Either way, he was enthralled.
"Hey!" you waved your arms in front of him, trying to get his attention. "Look at me!"
"May I be so bold to point out you spilled your coffee onto me?" Bruce asked with a small scoff. "If anything, you are the one supposed to do something about it."
"This wouldn't have happened if you watched where you were going." You were very pretty, Bruce noted. Your eyes seemed to sparkle, and your arms were crossed over your chest, making his eyes dart towards it.
"And what am I supposed to do?" He replied.
"I don't know! Give me my money back or something, that coffee is super expensive! It's my special celebration cup!"
""Your money back?"
"Yeah! You're dressed up all nice, I bet that suit costs more than my rent."
"Oh, really?" Bruce was amused one. You were feisty, clearly. "And what makes you think that?"
"No one walks around Gotham dressed like that, unless they're rich, powerful, law agents, or I don't know, Bruce Fucking Wayne."
"Bruce Wayne? Does he dress like this?"
You scoffed, shaking your head and gesticulating a lot with your arms.
"Probably! I mean, it's not like anyone has ever seen the guy, but let's be honest, he probably dresses in expensive as fuck silk, or like, placenta that's fed to and then shat by babies or something."
You only seemed to get better by the second.
Bruce placed a hand on his chin, truly intrigued by your line of thinking.
"Placenta that's fed to and then shat by babies?" He had to admit, this was pretty amusing. Did you have any sort of filter? If so, he never wished that you turned it off.
"Maybe – I don't know – It's Bruce Wayne, so who actually does know? Maybe he's running a society of baby-shitting placenta. It's Gotham. One day we have masked vigilantes jumping off roofs, and the other, bomb threats. Regular Tuesdays for us Gothamites. But the real question here is," you jabbed an accusatory finger into his chest. "What are you going to do to repay me my very well-earned 10$ worth of iced coffee?"
Bruce was just about to reply, when a very familiar voice spoke up behind him.
"Ah, Mr. Wayne!" Lucius's Fox deep timbre was unmistakable, and Bruce turned around to offer him a polite smile. "I'm happy to run into you, there's a few things – " He took one good look at his boss's shirt and grimaced. "Hell, Mr. Wayne, how'd that happen?"
The younger man turned around to glance at you. Poor, poor you, with eyes even wider, and a matching mouth. You blinked several times, looking from his shirt to his face, and from his face to his shirt.
"Oh, that's right. I almost forgot to introduce myself," he put a hand forward, offering you what you thought was the most dazzling smile ever. Geez, women must basically throw their panties at him.
"Bruce Wayne. Baby-shitting-placenta cult leader."
You blinked a few more times, wishing the earth swallowed you whole. You'd literally never done anything wrong in your life. Sure, you talked trash about Suzy Carpenter's sweater in 8th grade, but it was warranted – it did look like vomit – and you had stolen a yogurt from a coworker once, but surely that did not warrant running into Bruce Fucking Wayne of all people, spilling coffee all over his clothes, and accuse him of eating placenta. Maybe Suzy still held a grudge.
"Mr. Fox, how about I stop by your office later today? I'm quite busy this morning. Have something to do."
"Of course, Mr. Wayne. I'll be patiently waiting." Lucius gave him and you an acknowledging nod, before walking away.
You were still staring at Bruce, completely at a loss for words. What were you supposed to say? Was there anything at all you could say?
"I – Mr. Wayne, I – Well, I'm – I," you stuttered and stuttered, and Bruce could only chuckle, before shaking his head. He looked to his left and took a few steps, opening a door before him.
"After you."
Confusion took over your expressions. What was he up to? Where was he going?
"I promise not to kidnap you into a placenta cult," he chuckled, nodding towards the door. You looked at the name written in green letters on the glass. "Coffee House". "I believe I have a cup of coffee to make up for?"
He offered you a very subtle version of that dazzling smile of his, and you couldn't help but return in kind.
"I'm not going to apologize or kiss your ass or anything," you told him.
"That's fine," Bruce shrugged, "I didn't want you to."
You pondered your options.
You didn't know this man. But someone had called him Mr. Wayne, and now that you take a good look at him, he does look like the face gossip magazines and tabloids love to splatter on the cover. And he really did not look like he meant any harm.
And you really wanted a cup of coffee. "Alright, Mr. Placenta Cult Leader."
It did not take long for Bruce to fall in love with you, with your kindness, with your looks, with your beautiful personality. You always maintained that feisty attitude of yours, refusing to treat him or anyone in his world differently simply because you were now a part of it.
And Bruce loved it.
Loved how you couldn't care less what other socialite families thought of you, eating chocolate covered fruit after chocolate covered fruit at fundraisers, loved the way you latched onto him and "claimed" your property so to say whenever other women approached him and tried their luck (not that it would've worked, this man was whipped for you), telling other, more arrogant seniors off whenever they made judgements on yours, or Gotham forbid, Bruce.
But above all, he loved you,
And he made sure to show you just how much whenever possible. He wasn't the best with words, never had been, so he tried to show his devotions through actions. Breakfasts in bed, gentle caresses while you cuddled together on the couch, copies of your favourite books, soft kisses pressed against the hollow of your throat while he brought you to a climax with his fingers. Bruce would never stop showing you his love, for as long as he lived.
Alfred was very fond of you too.
The two of you had gotten along very well immediately after your first meeting, with Alfred telling you all sorts of embarrassing stories from Bruce's childhood. You laughed and replied in kind, and the two of you sort of teamed up to make his life a living hell (in the best way possible), teasing him to no end and cursing him with the worst jokes known to mankind.
Alfred too could see you were the one for his boss.
Saw it in the way Bruce looked at you, like everyone else in the world was gone and the only thing that mattered was the shine in your eyes. Saw it in the way he bent over to whisper sweet nothings into your ear that made you giggle out loud, just the way he saw Thomas Wayne do with his wife.
Saw it in the way Bruce paced holes into his study, pondering on what ring to get you. He bothered him to exhaustion that day, wondering about the colours you'd prefer, what size and shaped rock to get you, how, when, and where to propose.
"It has to be perfect, Alfred," he muttered, shaking his head and sighing incessantly. "I can't just pick any ring. It has to be meaningful. Her birthstone? No. No, absolutely not, that's lame. It's lame – it's dated. She wouldn't like it. Maybe she doesn't even like her birthstone. A diamond. A diamond! No. Out of the question. What if she doesn't like diamonds?"
"If I may give you a piece of advice, sir?" Alfred asked. However entertaining it was to see the mighty Bruce Wayne freak out over an engagement ring, this man was still his boy, and he couldn't bear to see him distressed. "If I recall, it was in your mother's will that her ring was to be stored and kept locked away in the possibility of her passing. I believe it is stored away in her old jewel box, as she was never buried with it. She wanted you to have it."
Bruce's eyes softened, as they often did at the mention of his parents.
"My mother's ring?" he asked to which Alfred nodded dutifully.
"It has been in your family for more than 6 generations now. Your mother wanted you to have it."
Some mixed feeling akin to grief and love passed through his eyes, and Bruce found himself staring at the floor. His mother's ring. A family heirloom, passed on from generation to generation. And now it was his. And would become yours. A million thoughts could've crossed through his mind. "Should I give something this important to her?" or "Is she the right person for this ring?" or maybe even "This is far too important. I need to think twice before making this decision".
But surprisingly, the only thought that came to him was "There is no one out there more deserving of this ring than her".
It was endearing, really, and Alfred Pennyworth was more than happy to see the boy he'd watched grow and loved as his own become his own man, and finally find the love he so much deserved.
When you got home on a warm May night and showed off your ring to him, smiling from ear to ear, eyes red and makeup slightly smudged from the tears you'd no doubt shed, he hugged you tightly and wished you all the best. He was sure the late Mr. and Mrs. Wayne would've loved you, and his eyes teared up at the thought.
Bruce caught sight of this and made his way towards the older man, worried that something might be wrong, the answer almost made him cry as well.
"It seemed like only yesterday I was patching your arm up after a rough fall, Master Wayne. And here you are today, carrying the legacy of your family, a man of your own, about to embark on this beautiful journey that's marriage. I am so very proud of the man you have become, and I'm sure your parents would too."
The two of them hugged warmly. Alfred was the only person besides you who got to see the more vulnerable side of Bruce – well, rather, you were the other person beside him. Having grown up with only his butler, Bruce saw him as a father figure. Sure, he'd never be able to replace his actual dad, but Bruce looked up and admired Alfred very much, considering him part of the family. No one seemed to care about him as much, and he was forever grateful.
That very night, you three toasted with champagne, sharing stories and anecdotes from Bruce's childhood, your relationship, and making plans for the future. And after Alfred had long retired for the night, Bruce took you in his arms, carried you off to his bedroom and made sure to remind you over and over again just how much he loved you.
After the engagement, Bruce told you about his double identity as Batman. You'd never suspected it – you were both responsible adults, each had your own job and errands to run. Not to mention that Bruce was the CEO of a whole company. To you, it was normal if he had to cancel one or two dates, or if you went a few days without seeing him. Sure, you missed him, and sometimes it made your heart ache, but you were a busy woman yourself, and always found yourself surrounded by things to do; hobbies, errands, work – you always had a lot going on, so Bruce's absence felt normal.
He was afraid you'd leave him, but in true you fashion, it just made you even more in love. The man you adored more than anything and wanted to spend the rest of your life with was the one keeping Gotham safe at night. You begged him there and then to show you all his cool gadgets, teach you how everything worked, and your mouth watered at the possibility of having sex in what you called "the Batcar".
"Batcar?" Bruce asked, cringing.
"No – that sounds terrible. Hmmm... Batengine?"
"It's called the Tumbler, and that's all. No Bat prefixes."
"No – no, it doesn't work like that. It needs a name. Oh. OH – Oh, holy fuck. Okay, get ready for this." You placed your hands in front of you, smiling. "You ready?"
"Just get on with it."
"I was just making sure you were ready. Okay listen. The Batmobile."
Bruce looked at you.
You looked at him.
Bruce looked at you.
You looked at him.
Bruce looked at you.
And then he made your wish come true, carrying you off towards the Batmobile.
Later, when you were curled up in his arms, you grinned, placing a cheeky kiss on his jaw.
"You're wearing the suit next time.”
Your engagement was happily lived.
You and Bruce tried to keep it a secret for as long as you could, wanting to enjoy some time together away from the prying eyes of Gotham, but as soon as one photographer caught you taking a spoon to your lips, and the beautiful diamond ring caught in the light, it was over.
“So much for privacy,” you muttered, collapsing on your couch, gripping the latest gossip magazine. The words “WAYNE HEIR TO FINALLY SETTLE! Billionaire playboy finally tamed!?” were plastered on the cover, as well as a big picture of you hiding your face with your left hand as Bruce brought you close to him. “I wonder if they’ll ever leave us alone.”
“Probably not. You’ll get used to it; it comes with the name.” Bruce kissed the top of your head, handing you a cup of coffee. You smiled and sat up straight, taking a sip from it and humming in delight.
“This is real good. Did Alfred make it?”
“Why is it so hard to believe that I would make a good cup of coffee?” Your fiancé asked, sitting beside you. One hand snaked around your waist and brought you closer, and the other softly flicked your nose.
“You burned the coffee beans last time you tried. I don’t even know how that’s possible, Bruce,” you sighed.
“I did my best.” Was his response.
“Maybe stick to being Bruce Wayne by day, and Batman by night. I love a good alliteration, but you were not meant to be a barista.”
Bruce chuckled and kissed you, tasting the sweet coffee off your lips. He hummed, gazing at you through his dark lashes.
“You’re right, this is good. Most likely wasn’t made by me.”
“It definitely wasn’t made by you.”
“You are such a hater,” Bruce sighed, playfully kissing your nose. “I’m never making you any more coffee from now on.”
Your eyes lit up and you smiled at him jokingly.
“Is that a promise?”
Bruce just shook his head and bent down to kiss you. You smiled against his lips, and he took the opportunity to give your waist a good squeeze, causing you to flinch.
“Stop that! I’m going to spill this all over the couch!”
“Wouldn’t be the first time – I recall someone spilling coffee all over me and somehow making it my fault,” Bruce joked, raising a quizzical brow. You smiled fondly at the memory. It was your favourite story to tell.
“You weren’t watching your step. It wasn’t my fault.”
“You bumped into me.”
“No, you bumped into me because you weren’t paying attention. And then you made me spill your coffee all over you.” You smiled and kissed him again. When you pulled away, you felt him chase after you, capturing your lips with his own once again.
Brushing his lips against yours, he murmured, “And I’m glad I did. I got to meet the love of my life that way.”
“You’re so corny, Bruce Wayne. I wonder what the public would think of you if they saw you like this.”
“I don’t care what the public thinks of me as long as you’re by my side.”
You smiled, and so did he. Truer words had never been spoken.
Now that you knew he was Batman, you worried more often.
What before was considered simply a “busy night for Mr. CEO” was now “night out in Gotham, fighting criminals and possibly getting injured”. You found yourself pacing circles around your bedroom, biting on your nails, and hoping that Bruce would come home soon.
You’d asked Alfred for some tips – how could he appear so relaxed knowing that the boy he treated as his own son was out there, doing what he did? Knowing that he put himself in the face of danger so often and sometimes with no regard for his own life?
“It’s hard, Miss,” he told you over a warm cup of tea. “But in the end, Master Wayne knows what he is doing. And now he has one more reason to get back home safely. Everything will be alright.”
And thankfully, he usually did.
You two had a sort of unspoken deal.
Bruce would always wake you up whenever he returned, even if just to let you know he was safe and home. Sometimes, you’d wake up, insisting on checking him for bruises and marks, and even going as far as patching them up.
“The kitchen has better lighting, c’mon,” you mumbled, voice still coated in exhaustion. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, yawning as you made your way towards the kitchen to deal with his bruises. It was routine, at this point. Bruce sat down, you opened your first-aid kit, you two had a snack and went back to bed. It was domestic, in a way. Not really something a regular couple would do, but you and Bruce had never really been regular.
“You’re lucky that one isn’t big,” you said, pointing towards the purple bruise forming on top of his right pectoral. You’d seen worse – sometimes he came home with bullet wounds, or deep gashes on his skin. Not that this was any more reassuring, but you were just glad that compared to other nights, he didn’t seem to be suffering too much. “It should heal in a few days, as long as you keep applying the cream.”
“What would I do without you?” he asked, with a soft smile. This is how you knew Bruce had truly returned home. Some nights he’d be far too tired to speak, choosing to kiss you and softly touch you to remind you of his love. Others, he would lock himself up in the Batcave, somehow convinced he wasn’t worthy of you. Of course you offered to talk to him, to help carry his burdens, but he never wanted to drag you into that side of his life, so most of the time, he would keep to himself.
Right now, though, he seemed to be doing fine. He told you patrol was rather easy, there were no major criminals out, and that nothing was wrong. His smiles and chuckles meant that Bruce, your Bruce was back.
“I don’t know,” you said, moving to open the fridge. As soon as you did, you turned away from it and gagged. “Shit – that’s disgusting,” you said, closing the door and shaking your head.
“What?” Bruce turned to you. “Is there something wrong?”
“I think there must be something rotten in here, it smells foul. Fuck, it smells so disgusting, I think I’m going to vomit,” you mumbled, moving away from the fridge as quickly as you could. Bruce got up right after and carefully opened the door. Nothing. Nothing seemed to smell rotten – nor it would make any sense if it did. Alfred was always on top of groceries, and never in his life he recalled a moment where something was rotten or went to waste.
“Are you sure?” he asked, turning to you. “I can’t smell anything bad.” Searching through the items, he opened and closed lids, smelling whatever was inside. Everything seemed to be intact.
“Are you serious? It smells disgusting – close that door!”
“Honey, I can’t find anything in here that smells bad. Maybe you’re just sensitive or something.” Bruce closed the door and walked towards you, wrapping you around his arms. “We should go to sleep. It’s late.”
You nodded into his chest and allowed him to carry you back to bed.
As you drifted off to sleep, you thought of how nice it would be if every single day was like this – patrol-wise. Bruce would come home with barely any scratches, you’d take care of him in about 10 minutes, and before you knew it, you’d be back in bed, hugging him tightly against you.
Unfortunately, the future held other plans.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t The Dark Knight himself,” a very familiar voice said.
Bruce turned around and faced the familiar mask of the Scarecrow, the man he knew to be Dr. Jonathan Crane. And he seemed to be in top shape – last time he’d seen the bastard, he was mumbling incoherently and out of his mind. How he’d gotten himself out of Arkham, Bruce had no idea, but he was sure to send him back there in no time.
“Crane.” Bruce said, ready to fight at any time. He knew Crane used a special toxin to induce fear in his enemies, and although he was immune to it, he had no idea what other people he’d convinced to do his dirty work. Had no idea if he should suspect any surprise attacks and did not want to take chances.
“You know, it’s funny that I find you here, especially after all the… studying I was doing just last night.” Crane paced around the alley, trying to get Bruce’s – the Batman’s – attention. “I was thinking, what is the big bad bat afraid of?” Placing a hand on his chin, he pretended to be deep in thought.
“Cut the crap Crane,” Bruce all but spat, “What do you want?”
Crane – the Scarecrow – however, did not seem in the mood to stop.
“At first, I couldn’t quite get it. After all, you’re just a man,” Crane put extra emphasis on his words. Bruce saw right through him. He wasn’t the first one who tried to make him feel helpless. “But then, it hit me.”
The Scarecrow kept walking around, weaving a narrative to get into Bruce’s head. The latter one stood his ground. He had half a mind to slam Crane against the nearest wall and just hand him over to the authorities, who’d already been called and were on their way, but part of him wanted to hear whatever the maniac had to say.
He shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t, but something inside him stirred. Crane looked carefree, relaxed. What had he done?
“Tell me, Bruce,” he said the name with a twisted kind of glee, something that made Bruce’s stomach drop unpleasantly. “Does it worry you when you leave your poor little wife all alone in your Manor? Knowing that anyone could get to her, knowing that she’s defenceless without you to protect her?”
What?
How did he know about him?
Most importantly, how did he know about you? Had he investigated you? Put the pieces together? Had Bruce accidentally left any sort of clue that led him to make the connection?
“Ah – right,” Crane said, removing his mask and offering Bruce a sadistic smile, “You thought no one would figure out your little secret, would you, Batman? How unfortunate.”
In about a second, Bruce was close to Crane, gripping him by the collar of his shirt.
“What have you done to her!?” He snapped, anger clouding his judgement.
“Ah, ah, ah! Now, don’t be crass, Bruce, we’re both respected men and can do this the hard way or the easy way. And I would hate for someone to find out your little secret. Wouldn’t you agree?” The man smiled mockingly, making Bruce’s blood boil.
“Who knows!? Who have you told?” he roared. All judgement and common sense had jumped off the window. Bruce remembered his training; remembered how he was told to keep his emotions at bay. Use his head, not his heart.
“This is where things get complicated now, Batman.” Crane spoke calmly. “I’m the only one who’s aware of your little secret.” Bruce almost sighed in relief. “But that can easily change. Help me get what I want, and I won’t tell a soul. Do anything to stop me, and I’ll let the whole world know who’s hiding under the mask. And believe me – every Arkham inmate would like to know.”
Bruce lowered the Scarecrow onto the ground, breathing heavily. Jonathan Crane knew his identity, knew who he was, where he lived, knew who his wife was. If he didn’t play this correctly, you’d be in great danger.
Reaching towards his pocket, Crane pulled out a small phone.
“In here, I have all the information about you, and the Missus. If you cross me, call for backup, or do anything that would sabotage my plan, I’m sending this file to every phone in Arkham City.”
Bruce weighed his options. He had to be careful. Get the phone out of Crane’s hands, lock him up –
A loud gunshot could be heard through the alley, and the man with the mask in his hand fell on the ground. It took a while for Bruce to understand what was going on, but Jim Gordon’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
“I didn’t say you could shoot –“
“Sargeant, we’ve been after Crane for months now, I wasn’t going to let him go this easily!” A younger man in a GCPD office called out, moving towards Bruce and the now dead body lying on the floor.
Jonathan Crane was dead. The Scarecrow was dead. The only person who knew his secret was now dead. Instinctively, he bent down to pry the phone from the dead man’s hands. With a few clicks, he realised he wasn’t bluffing. A message with a large file entitled THE BAT was ready to be sent at any time. Bruce deleted the thing and destroyed the phone with his bare hands.
That had been close.
Too close.
The GCPD had killed Crane, and while normally Bruce would be against the killing policy, part of him kept thanking whatever inexperienced officer had decided to shoot him.
That was too close.
Crane had said no one else knew of his identity. What if he was bluffing? What if the phone was just a means to threaten him, meanwhile, everyone back in Arkham already knew?
“You okay?” Bruce turned to look at Jim Gordon’s worried expression. “It’s not often we see the Batman worried.”
“He knew who I am.”
Gordon took a step back – quite literally – eyes wide as he put his hands on his hips.
“Did he now?”
“He was going to tell everyone in Arkham City should I not help him along with his plan.”
Both men remained silent, staring at each other, before Gordon turned to look at his officers.
“I know you stick to your no-killing policy, but maybe this one was for the – “
The Batman was gone.
“ – Best.”
He’d spent the night at the cave, terrified to return to you.
What was he going to do?
Jonathan Crane had found out about him, so who’s to say someone else wouldn’t? Sure, the average criminal could not simply put together that he was Bruce Wayne, but there were always going to be people like Crane, who held big grudges and had a very high intellect.
It was simply a matter of time before someone else found out about you.
And Bruce couldn’t have that.
He ran Crane’s words over and over again in his head.
Does it worry you when you leave your poor little wife all alone in your Manor? Knowing that anyone could get to her, knowing that she’s defenceless without you to protect her?
He was right. While he was out at night, protecting the city, you were at home, with no one to protect you. He couldn’t bring you along – that was out of the question. And he couldn’t confine you to some secluded area. He knew you’d get upset that he was treating you like a baby, assuring him you could take care of yourself just fine.
You couldn’t.
Bruce had to protect you. He had to keep you safe, out of harm’s and criminal’s ways. Tonight, it was Crane, merely threatening to tell everyone about you. Tomorrow, it could be someone doing good on their promise.
He tried hard to think of what to do.
And the only idea that seemed like it could work, made his heart ache immensely.
He loved you. He loved you more than what he could possibly say. It tore him apart to be away from you, it broke him to simply think of hurting you.
And yet, it would keep you safe.
Bruce loved you.
So, so much.
He loved you so very much, that he was willing to do whatever he had to keep you safe from harm.
It would break his heart, yes. And yours too, surely. But after tonight, he couldn’t risk it. He would go the lengths of the earth to keep you safe and sound. He made his way towards the Manor and thought over his plan.
There was no way you’d believe him if he ever told you he did not love you. No, that wouldn’t work. You knew him far too well to know when he was lying.
He couldn’t say he was trying to protect you either. One thing he loved the most about you, was your stubbornness. If he told you all he was trying to do was keep you safe, you’d laugh in his face and promise you some measly criminals did not phase you. It warmed his heart, in a way, to know you’d stick with him through thick and thin, but it also made him worry.
What could he possibly do to keep you away from him?
And that’s when it hit him.
You had to see it.
It wasn’t an ideal solution – hell, he didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to even think about it. But if it would keep you safe? Bruce was willing to give it a try.
You’d gotten home earlier from work. Bruce knew this. You were supposed to get home around 6 and a half on Tuesdays, but it was currently 6 and you were already hanging your coat by the door.
“Good afternoon, Miss.” Alfred said with a polite nod, hurrying to your side. “You’re home earlier than expected.” A lie. Bruce had spoken to your coworkers earlier, and they’d told him you’d be off work sooner than expected. Alfred was in on the whole plan as well. It didn’t please him one bit, but he knew once Bruce got an idea, he would go through it until the very end.
“I told you to stop with the ‘Miss’, Alfred, my name is fine. It’s been fine for four years, and I’m sure it’ll be fine for the rest of our lives.” You smiled at him. You’d been trying to get Alfred to use your name for all the years you’d been dating Bruce, but to no avail.
“I’m sorry Miss,” he replied. “Old habits die hard. And please, allow me. It’s part of my job.”
“You’re family, Alfred. What would it take for you to call me by my name?”
“A handsome raise by Master Wayne.”
“I’ll see that he takes care of it right away.”
Alfred smiled as you turned to make your way towards the bedroom, and when you were no longer facing him, your expression turned to one of sadness. Was this really what it had come to? Was he about to go on with this?
He didn’t want to, but there was no way he was going against his boss’s rules.
Alfred sighed sadly, before following you.
“I’m afraid Master Wayne is busy.”
“Oh,” you hummed, “It’s okay. I’ll just wait for him to return.” You continued walking.
“No, Miss – he’s in his office. He’s told me not to disturb him, nor let anyone do it, since he’s working on some very important projects for Wayne Enterprises.”
Weird. Bruce never shut you out, even when he was busy. Sure, he might have things to do, but he would always keep his door open should you want to talk to him, or just kiss him.
“Well, that’s fine, I’ll just say hello to him and go take a shower.” You offered Alfred a smile and turned to instead walk towards Bruce’s office. “Did he tell you what work? He never mentioned anything about a project. Is it new?”
“I’m not sure Miss.” Alfred said, his heart beating slightly faster now that you approached the office’s door. He knew exactly what to expect once you opened the door, but it didn’t really make it easier. “He told me he was going to be busy all afternoon, told me not to go in, and closed the door.”
“Weird. Are you sure he’s alright?”
“I suppose so, Miss.”
You furrowed a brow. Odd. And it’s not like he told you anything at all – letting you know he’d be busy or working up until late.
“That’s alright, Alfred. I’ll go check up on him. He must be really tired,” You said, and approached the door. And now, you were even more confused than ever. Weird sounds were coming from inside the office. You could make out two voices – Bruce’s, of course (you’d know his voice from a mile away), and a female one.
What in the world could Bruce be possibly doing behind locked doors with a woman?
You stilled, straining your ears to better make out the noises coming from inside. And you flushed deep red once the realisation hit you. Grunting, groaning, moaning.
No.
It couldn’t be, now, could it? There was no way.
You turned around to face Alfred, whose face seemed to go white as a sheet of paper.
“Y-You said he locked himself inside and sent you away?” You asked.
“Yes, Miss.”
“O-Okay.” You mumbled, facing the door.
The voices got louder. The female voice got higher and shriller, and tears clouded your vision. You mustered up all the courage you could find in yourself, and burst the door open, gasping loudly at the scene before you.
A naked woman was lying on top of your fiancé’s desk, cheeks flushed and hands desperately clawing at his back – Bruce’s back. He was on top of her, hand hidden in the crook of her neck as he groaned, rutting faster against her.
You stilled in your place, completely paralyzed. There were no possible words to describe what you were feeling now. Anger? Heartbreak? Sadness?
The woman let out a loud moan and wrapped her legs tighter around him.
“You like that?” Bruce grunted, lifting his head to look at the woman, who replied with another broken moan and a tug of his hair.
“Bruce?” you said, heart breaking in a million pieces.
He looked up. Really looked up, staring into your eyes. Inside him, something broke as well. He was doing this for your own good. For your safety. He had to keep you away, had to give you the life he knew you couldn’t have as his wife. It was too dangerous.
“Fuck,” he muttered, quickly getting away from the woman on the desk. He stared at you, dumbfounded, scrambling around to quickly get his clothes.
“Hey – hey – what are you doing?” The woman asked, looking at him, before turning to you and her eyes widened. “Oh!”
You scoffed, looking in between the two, and stormed away, tears running down your cheeks.
“Honey!” Bruce called. He quickly managed to put on a pair of pants, and ran after you, heart pounding in his chest. You were mad. This was really happening. He was going to forever ruin the greatest thing that had ever happened to him, and all because of the Batman. He’d betrayed you and broken your heart.
But it was for your own good.
“I can’t believe this,” you said through gritted teeth, walking towards your bedroom and slamming the door shut behind you. Bruce was able to catch it right before it shut closed, and the expression in your face was sure to haunt him forever. Your lovely eyes, usually bright and lively, were dull and red. Your tear-streaked face was something Bruce had never wanted to see in his life – at least not when it pertained to something bad.
“Honey, please, it’s not what it looks like.” He pleaded, walking towards you.
You were quick to move aside.
“Don’t give me that not what it looks like bullshit! I saw you Bruce – God damn it, I saw you with another woman.” You said, trying to remain calm, but failing miserably. “How could you!?”
“Look, darling, if you could just let me explain –“
“Oh! Explain!” You hurried inside the closet, fetching one of your travel suitcases. There was no way you were staying inside this house – his house – any longer. You needed to get out. Needed fresh air, needed to get away from him. “What is there to explain? How you were balls deep inside some woman you’ve found somewhere? Oh, really nice, Bruce, lovely explanation!”
“You have to understand –“ Bruce explained, in between shallow breaths. “You weren’t supposed to find out, you were supposed to be at work.”
“Ah, yes. Of course I wasn’t supposed to find out.” You scoffed and busied yourself with throwing clothes inside your suitcase. “That much I know.”
“I’m sorry – “
“I’m sure you are.”
“I didn’t want it to come to this!” Bruce snapped, and you finally turned to him.
“Come to this?” Your voice was low, frail, frightened. Fuck. What was he doing? What was Bruce doing? Was this worth ruining your relationship over? Yes. Yes – of course it did. If it meant you’d be safe. Everything was worth it if you were safe.
You’d have your heart broken, yes. But in a few months, maybe years, you’d find someone else. A nice, normal man, with no secret identities and no secret life. You’d find a nice man and settle down. He would give you all his time, worship you like you deserved to be worshipped. Would take care of you and love you, and never put you in danger.
And you’d be happy. You’d be so happy; you’d have long forgotten about the asshole Bruce Wayne, who’d cheated on you and broke your heart.
“Yes, come to this.” He repeated. “You weren’t supposed to find out. I was supposed to have ended this long ago, and yet I let go for far too long.” Bruce tried to force some venom, some harshness into his words. He wasn’t used to talking like this to you, nor did he want to – but he had to try.
“What do you mean?” The clothes in your hands were long forgotten, and you just stared at him, like a deer caught in the headlights.
“I just – look, I hate to do this right now, and in these circumstances, but…”
“But?”
“We can’t be together anymore.”
Your eyes widened. What?
“I can’t keep lying to you. I don’t love you anymore.”
These words hit you like a truck.
Didn’t love you anymore?
“What?”
“That’s right.” Bruce sighed, trying to keep his composure. “This relationship is a mistake. You’re holding me back, and I just don’t love you anymore.” His voice was devoid of any emotion, while inside, he could feel everything slipping out of control. He loved you. How could he say such things? How were such words leaving his mouth?
“You – you don’t love me anymore?” You asked, eyes tearing up once more. Your breaths were coming in shallow; you couldn’t breathe, nor believe the stuff you were hearing.
“I don’t. I’ve been miserable – miserable – in this relationship,” He said your name, running a finger through his already unkempt hair. “I can’t keep pretending to be someone I’m not. Propose, settle down, get married – I can’t do it. I don’t see a future with you anymore. Please, you can’t tell me you haven’t felt the same!”
“No! I can’t!” You didn’t sound like yourself. You sounded sad, broken, out of breath, completely terrified. You thought your life with Bruce was going very well. You loved him, and he loved you. Yeah, okay, maybe he had some more work to take care of as of late, but that didn’t warrant a breakup. Did it? “We – we’ve been so happy, Bruce!”
“Fuck – I don’t love you anymore! This, this – this relationship is killing me here! I can’t keep on doing this, can’t wake up and pretend to be your Brucie, or a family man, or God forbid, someday your husband!” Bruce was fighting hard to keep his emotions away from this. Instead, he channelled all that energy into pretending to be angry with you. He put all the anger he felt towards the outside world and every criminal in Gotham, into this fake argument.
And by the look of your face, he was doing a good job.
“How… How long have you been doing this?” You whispered. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer. Weren’t sure if you wanted to know how long your husband had been betraying you, sleeping with some other woman. Or women. It made you nauseous just to think of that.
“I…”
“Just tell me, Bruce!”
Bruce sighed, looking away.
“Three months.”
A choked sob was ripped from your throat, and you grabbed the nearest thing – a shoebox – raising it above your head. There were a million thoughts racing through your head, a million emotions plaguing your mind. But before you could throw the damned box at his head, you ran into the nearest bathroom, puking your guts out.
The whole situation made you nauseous alright.
As soon as you’d puked whatever you had to, you got up, washing your mouth and your teeth. Then, you turned to Bruce. He was standing in the middle of your bedroom, looking at you with a mixture of sorrow, disgust, and something else you couldn’t quite pinpoint.
You couldn’t stare at him any longer.
“I’d appreciate it if you left the Manor until the end of the day,” he said, looking at the ground. “I would like the master bedroom to be clean of your things.”
How could he speak like this? How could he say all of this after everything you two shared? Every word, every kiss, every touch? Had it not meant anything to him? Clearly not, by the way he was behaving.
You wiped your tears (unsuccessfully, since they just kept on rolling down your cheeks), and walked towards your closet, proceeding to stuff your clothes inside the suitcase. Just as you were about to shut your first suitcase, Bruce interrupted you.
“I’ll have someone else take to you the rest of your things. Just take that right now.”
You stood up, turning to him. First, he cheated on you, then he admitted to not loving you, then he broke up with you, and now he was kicking you out at full force.
You sneered.
“Where the hell am I supposed to stay, then? I live here.”
“Lived. Not live. You don’t live here anymore. Just get a hotel room somewhere, I’ll pay for it. But you have to go.”
“Why? So you can go back to fucking your new girlfriend?”
“Precisely.” The bite in his words shocked you.
There were no words. No words beside three little things you’d never thought you’d utter at the man standing before you.
“I hate you. I hate you, Bruce Wayne.” You said, tears cascading down your cheeks and marring your so lovely face. “Everyone warned me about you, but I didn’t listen. I was too in love with you to care about what anyone said.”
Bruce still refused to meet your gaze. He was sure that if he did, he’d break down too. And he was close, too close to let all of this go to waste.
“Should’ve listened to them.” You whispered.
And walked out, suitcase in hand.
“Alfred, make sure you take her – “
“I’ll see to it myself, thanks. I don’t need your help.”
With these words, you were out the door, and out of Bruce’s life.
As soon as you were no longer in vision, Bruce broke down.
He sat on his bed, hiding his face in his hands. You were truly gone. Forever. He’d done what he had to, and now you were gone. It was for the best, yeah, but that’s not to say it didn’t hurt.
Alfred quietly walked into the room. The sight of his boss leaning forward, looking absolutely miserable was a low blow. Finally, he’d found a source of happiness, of peace, of solace. Finally, he’d get to see his boy grow up, start his own family.
But all of that was over now.
He wouldn’t be there to walk you down the aisle and congratulate Bruce on his wedding day. He wouldn’t be there to see him drop to his knees when he found out you were carrying his child. He wouldn’t get to teach Bruce all the little hacks he learned from caring for him as a baby, wouldn’t get to tell your child the charming love story his parents had.
Master Wayne was miserable before you.
He was sure he’d get worse now.
“Master Wayne, I’ve sent Miss Roberts on her way.” He said quietly, standing on the doorway.
“Did you pay her?”
“Yes.”
“Enough?”
“She won’t tell a soul.”
The two men remained in silent for a while. Alfred did not know what to say. He understood where Bruce was coming from. He’d tried to talk some sense into his young master’s head, but to no avail – Bruce was going through with this madness and that was it. He’d tried telling him it wouldn’t matter; you loved him and would remain by his side forever, but he wouldn’t hear it.
In his head, this was the only solution.
“She’s going to be fine,” Bruce mumbled, dropping his hands, and looking at the ground.
“You’ve broken her heart, sir.” Alfred replied.
“She’ll be fine, Alfred,” Bruce retorted harshly. “She’ll go on with her life, forget about me, and she will be safe and that’s why we’re doing this – so she’s safe!”
The older man closed his mouth. There was nothing else he could do or say. It was done, and there was no turning back.
“Will you be fine, Master Wayne?” he asked at last.
Bruce did not answer right away. He shook his head, and Alfred swore he could make out the shape of his shoulders shaking ever so slightly – was he crying?
After a few moments, Bruce finally managed to calm himself. He took a deep breath, quickly wiped away any tears that might’ve escaped, and nodded, still avoiding his butler’s gaze.
“I will be. All that matters is that she’s safe. I’ll learn to be fine.”
“Is there anything you wish, sir?”
“No, you’re dismissed.”
And so, Alfred walked away, leaving Bruce to think the last few minutes over.
He’d lost you, sure.
But he would keep an eye on you from afar. Protect you from a distance. Make sure you were doing alright and that no harm had come to you. He’d be a silent protector.
And although he was hurting, he would bottle up his emotions.
Nothing else mattered, as long as you were safe.
But keeping tabs on you had proved to be quite harder than what Bruce expected.
You’d gone completely off the map, off-grid. You’d forsaken social media and most electronics and were doing a fantastic job of keeping away from his prying eyes. He knew for a fact you’d left Gotham, but to where, he did not know exactly. His sources told him you’d probably changed your identity, not wanting to be seen as Bruce Wayne’s ex-girlfriend anymore, wanting a life of your own.
At first, Bruce was terrified.
If you changed your identity and moved away, how was he supposed to protect you? This whole thing was meant to keep you safe – how was he supposed to live without knowing if all of his and your suffering had been in vain?
“Master Wayne, I understand your concern for the Miss’s well-being.” Alfred had told him one night as Bruce was drowning his sorrows in some very-expensive liquor. “But sometimes, we must respect the choices people make for their own safety.”
“What if something happens to her, Alfred?” Bruce asked, voice raspy from exhaustion and the drink. “What if she’s in danger and I can’t reach her? What if this whole thing was for nothing?”
“Sir, part of caring for someone is respecting their decisions. Dr. Jonathan Crane is long gone, and you yourself told me the information he had died with him. There is no one after you or the ones you love anymore. And most important, there is no one after her. If she’s changed her name, it only means she’ll be safer.”
Bruce sighed. Alfred was right to some extent – as he usually was. Crane was dead, and he hadn’t told anyone about you. Changing your name and your identity would probably keep you even safer.
“I loved her, Alfred. I still do.”
“I know, Master Wayne. I did too.” Alfred sighed, placing a comforting hand on the young man’s shoulder. “But you did what had to be done, now, didn’t you? You said it yourself. She is safe, and that’s all that matters.”
Bruce tried to follow that mentality.
For months, he tried to forget you.
Unfortunately, not only had you wormed your way into his heart, you’d done the same thing to his mind. He would wake up in the middle of the night sometimes, swearing he could feel your lingering touch, hear your heavenly voice.
During meetings, all he could think of was how you’d usually send him funny texts and memes you found on your lunch breaks. He no longer got your calls, telling him all about the gossip you’d heard at your workplace, and how much you missed him.
The manor felt empty without your touch, your laughter, your presence. Just the mere existence of your toothbrush was enough to calm him down, to remind him you were there, and real, and his.
But he was left with nothing.
You’d gone, and with you, taken his heart.
And yet, despite all the pain, all the heartbreak, life went on.
Days passed; seasons changed.
The daily cycle continued, interrupted.
The sun rose and the sun set, a small reminder that life waited for no one. Alfred told him many times that he couldn’t dwell on the past, and while he tried to, it was hard.
Winter became spring, spring became summer.
And Bruce Wayne’s heart remained unmended.
He tried to move on – really, he did. But he wasn’t quite sure he’d achieved it. He didn’t think of you as much anymore, but he also didn’t think of much else. It was as if he was numb to the outside world, going about his daily routine as Bruce Wayne and his nightly duties as Batman automatically.
It was as if he was on autopilot. Charity galas were boring without you to make fun of everyone, fundraisers sucked if you couldn’t talk to whoever was interesting and get him to have a good time.
Life went on, but it was as if his had paused.
Alfred did his best to keep him in check. Did not allow him to go without any meals, made sure he attended whatever events he had to, and patched him up after rough patrols. He too missed your presence but knew better not to mention it to his boss. All he wanted was for the young master to go back to the person he once was.
One day, he was on his way to Wayne Enterprises. It was late in the morning, but as the CEO of the company, he could afford to be late once or twice. Not only that, but it was also only natural for Bruce Wayne to be fashionably late – even if it was to his own job.
The car suddenly came to a halt. Something underneath Bruce seemed to deflate, and he raised an eyebrow.
“Alfred?” he asked, closing his newspaper.
“I’m sorry sir, there seems to be something wrong with the tires. Perhaps you could go out and check?” The butler replied with a cheeky grin.
“Don’t I pay you enough for that?”
“Not nearly, sir.”
“How unfortunate. Well, I’m quite comfortable here, so why don’t you check it yourself?”
Alfred nodded with a small smile and exited the car.
After around 5 minutes, he looked inside the limo and sighed.
“I’m sorry sir, but we have a flat tire. But we also don’t have a spare one in the trunk, so I’ll have to call someone.”
“Really?”
“Really, sir. I’m sorry.”
Bruce shook his head, waving his newspaper dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just go by foot.”
“Are you sure, sir? It’s still a few blocks away. Perhaps we should wait until someone comes to fix it. And what if something happens to you?”
Bruce gave his butler a pointed look, raising an eyebrow, to which the older man just sighed.
“Alright, fine, you stubborn, stubborn man.”
Bruce chuckled and exited the limo, quickly making his way down the street.
It would be good, clear his head of all the torment. Walking gave him peace, made his mind feel at ease. It was as if a burden as lifted off his shoulders, even if momentarily.
Unfortunately, this respite did not last long.
He was busy looking around himself – eyes trailing the balconies of older Gotham buildings, taking in every person, every door, every window, every life that lives inside each apartment – to notice the figures before him.
But once he was content with the things he’d seen (and decided to organise some sort of charity event, since his city needed him, especially the older streets, with decaying buildings and lives he were sure must be hanging by a thread), he looked up.
And what he saw stole his breath away.
You were standing a few meters away from him, pointing at a shopwindow that had caught your eye. A friend stood by your side; arm linked with yours. He couldn’t care less about her, eyes focused on you, on the big summer hat resting on top of your head and providing shade to your face, on the beautiful smile you wore, on the way your lips moved as you spoke animatedly, on the lovely white dress you adorned.
But most importantly, his eyes were focused on the pretty swell of your belly, and on how one of your hands cupped it lovingly, and the other trailed circles on top of it. He eyed the swell of your breasts that had grown larger, the way your entire being seemed to glow. Not from the sun, just entirely from you.
Bruce stopped dead in his tracks.
You were back. Back in Gotham, back in his life, back to him.
Don’t be an idiot – surely, she’s not back for you.
And how beautiful you looked, hand protectively over your belly. How dazzling, how breathtaking, how shining.
Without even realising it, Bruce stepped forward, eyes glued on your figure. You didn’t seem to notice him, still paying attention to the store in front of you. He could make out the small chatter you were having with your friend – and how much he’d missed the sound of your voice, the lovely musicality of your laughter – it made him feel lighter, fuller, happier.
“I like the blue one,” you said, turning to your friend, “And it’s rather big, so I’m sure he’ll grow into it.”
Your friend seemed to agree with you, “It’ll last for a few months, yeah. But the yellow one is pretty too, don’t you think?”
“Please. A Batman onesie? The last thing I want is my son to wear one of those. He won’t even know who he is, anyway, it’s not like I’m raising him here.” You scoffed.
The girl you were with chuckled, and only then did she notice Bruce, standing far too close.
“Um,” she poked your arm, and you turned to him.
It was as if the whole world faded away.
Your whole story played on your head. Your first meeting, spilling coffee all over his shirt, having a coffee bought by him, the countless dates you went on, dating, moving in together, living what you thought were your happiest years ever, getting proposed to, and eventually finding your husband fucking someone else.
You quickly dropped your gaze to your stomach before looking at him once again and taking a step back. It was stronger than you, an instinct to get away from this man as soon as possible.
"Hey," the words were tumbling out of Bruce's mouth before he could control himself.
When you didn't reply, he took another step forward, making you step back again.
"I have nothing to say to you," you mumbled, looking at your friend. You whispered a quick "let's go” to her and turned on your back to leave. Before you could do it, the man called out your name. You could hear the desperation in his voice, the worry, the heartbreak, the grief.
Tch, you thought, what is there for him to grieve? You're the one who lost your relationship, your home, the chance for your child to meet his father.
"Please, listen to me," he said, and you saw in his face such vulnerability it scared you. You didn't remember the last time you'd seen Bruce like this, face looking as if he was holding on by a threat.
You were that thread, Bruce thought to himself.
"Did you not hear her?" Your friend came to your rescue, hand protectively over your shoulders. "She doesn't want to talk to you. Now leave it."
Bruce wondered if she knew him. If she knew what he'd done. Had you told anyone? Had you kept it a secret? Might've been hard to do so – after all, tabloids had loved to exploit his breakup, plastering it all over every cover of ever magazine in Gotham. He'd paid them off to spare you from the spotlight and public eye, but it was too late. People had already begun talking; and what they were saying wasn't polite at all.
"You need to listen to me," he said softly, "You need to listen to what I have to say."
What was he doing? What was he saying? He shouldn't even be talking to you, should be keeping his distance like he'd been doing the past few months. His head told him to stay away – to turn around, go back to the pain and the sulking and the sleepless nights between empty sheets. But his heart was reaching towards you, hoping so desperately that you'd reach out too and save him from the torment he'd been living.
He knew he had no right doing this. He'd hurt you terribly – but it'd been for a good reason, no? He'd kept you safe long enough, hadn't he?
Was it selfish of him to want you back?
Because he did – desperately so. He missed your warmth and your touch. He missed your smiles in the morning and your giggles in the evening. He missed the way you scrunched your nose whenever you took a sip out of his coffee – black with one sugar. He missed the way you walked around with nothing but his shirts on when Alfred was out, teasing him to no end and relishing in the way Bruce's breath hitched when his eyes landed upon you.
But most of all, he missed the way you always comforted him and promised everything would be alright. He missed your tender touch and your warm embrace. Missed your love, and the effect it had on him.
He needed you back.
That much was certain, and he had no doubts about it.
He couldn't bear to be without you any longer. He would keep you safe – God damn it, he would, even if it was the last thing he ever did, but he couldn't be without you anymore. He couldn't live his days inside a Manor that seemed so dull without your shine, eat at a table that seemed so quiet without your chatter, and sleep in a bed that seemed so cold without your body next to his.
Your voice broke him out of his thoughts.
"There's nothing you could say to me that I would possibly want to listen," you said. But your heart was hammering in your chest, and you were sure if he were to strain his ears just a bit, he'd listen to how fast it was racing. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have places to be."
Bruce's heart fell. He was about to lose you again. He couldn't. His hand dropped to yours, and he held it tightly in between his palms.
"Please," he all but begged, "Just listen to what I have to say. And if you don't care about it, if you don't like what you hear, if you want to go, I'll let you."
"I don't care. Happy? Now let me go."
"Please."
The way he said it made your heart churn. His face was the epitome of heart break, eyes sagged, with deep dark bags under them. You knew Bruce hardly got any sleep as Batman, but this seemed too much. And there was something about the way he looked at you, as if you were some sort of mirage that could disappear within seconds.
You couldn't quite tell what it was. Perhaps it was your hormones feeling nostalgic. Perhaps it was curiosity, making you wonder what the hell he had to say to you that's so important.
Your brain yelled at you though, telling you to stay away from him. This man had ruined your life, used you and thrown you aside. You had no use for him. You deserved better.
And yet, your heart still yearned for him. You couldn't lie – as soon as you laid your eyes on him, it did a little flip, at it usually did.
As it used to do. Not anymore. You're not his anymore.
"Fine," you mumbled, shaking your head. "But not now. I'm busy."
"Yes, yes, of course," he said, nodding desperately. "When can you meet me? Tomorrow? Is tomorrow okay? Is it too soon?"
It's not soon enough, you thought. You really did not have anything else to do today but thought it better not to tell him. You couldn't give him all you wanted at once – you were afraid your poor heart couldn't take it.
Still, something inside you couldn't hide how much your heart still wanted him.
"Tomorrow is fine."
"Great, great. 4 in the afternoon? I could have Alfred pour us something? Maybe a few biscuits?"
It was endearing, how desperate he seemed to get you to sit with him. It was cute.
Stop it. He's not "cute", he ruined your life and tossed you aside. You just want closure. That's it – closure. That's all you want from him.
"Fine. Can I go now?" You asked, before shaking your head and rephrasing. "I'll be going now. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Wait – Should I send for a driver?"
"Unless the Manor has disappeared and teleported somewhere else, I think I can manage." Saying this, you walked away, leaving Bruce at a loss for words, mouth gaping like a fish. There you were, in front of him, and just as quickly as he'd spotted you, you were gone. You were every bit as beautiful as he remembered you. He thought of your pregnant belly, and a shiver ran down your spine.
Whose baby was that? Was it his? Were you carrying another man's child? And why were you back in Gotham? Whatever reason it was, he silently thanked the heavens. It'd brought you back to him, and that's all that mattered. With a newfound sense of determination, Bruce ran back to his limo, where Alfred was still waiting for someone to fix his tire.
"Call the company," he exclaimed, out of breath and panting as he reached the older man. "Cancel all my meetings. Today's and tomorrow's."
Alfred raised an eyebrow. What the hell did his boss get into this time?
"May I ask why, sir?"
Bruce beamed.
"We have company."
Alfred had mixed emotions about you coming to visit.
On one hand, he was more than glad to see you. He missed you terribly, his book club pal, his gossiper, his nearly adoptive daughter. He looked forward to hugging you again, speaking to you, asking you how you were doing and learning how these past few months had been going for you.
On the other hand, he was positively mortified. He knew Bruce hadn't dealt very well with your absence, and he was afraid of what his young master might do now that you were here and willing to listen to him. And what would he say anyway? He knew Bruce was suffering and had never stopped loving you, but he didn't expect for him to actually try and win you back as soon as he laid eyes on you.
Sighing, he adjusted the tray on top of the kitchen counter, smiling when he heard the doorbell. Walking towards the entrance, he fixed his tie – he too wanted to look presentable for his favourite young lady – and opened it. Your sight was enough for his smile to grow wider. He took you all in, and his eyes got larger as he spotted the large bump on your stomach.
"Hey Alfred," you said, sporting a soft smile and another summer dress – this one, light green.
"Hello Miss." He replied, tears in his eyes. It made him emotional, you with your hands slowly supporting your growing stomach. He'd wanted to see this sight for so long, and while it was endearing, and you looked radiant, it was also heartbreaking that he hadn't been there to see most of it, and that neither had Bruce.
The very same question passed through his head: Whose baby were you carrying?
"You've got room for a plus one?" You asked, eyes dropping to your stomach.
"I think we can manage."
You walked inside, and hugged Alfred tightly close to you. You too saw him as family, and it had broken your heart to cut contact with him. At first, you thought about keeping his phone number and calling him occasionally; but after learning how everyone wanted to get their eyes on you, you decided that perhaps it was for the best if you ceased contact completely.
"I missed you so much, Miss. The Manor is not the same without you," he whispered, rubbing your back comfortingly.
"I missed you too, Alfred," you replied, tears forming in your eyes aswell. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I'm so sorry, I – "
"It's alright, Miss." He pulled away, looking into your eyes with that kind, warm, parental gaze of his, "I understand. I'm just glad I got to see you again."
With this, he led you towards the living room, where Bruce was already, pacing back and forth. It almost made you chuckle – big bad Bat by night, reckless playboy by day Bruce Wayne was pacing circles inside his living room, visibly worried sick.
"Master Wayne," Alfred said, signalling your arrival.
Bruce looked up and you'd think you had just offered him the cure to eternal life or something by the way his gaze held yours.
"Hey," he said, walking towards you, but thinking better of it and standing a few steps away from you. He held forward his hand, hoping that you'd somehow shake it. You did not, and he dropped it.
"Would you like something to drink? Alfred prepared coffee."
"I don't drink coffee. It makes me nauseous." You softly placed your hands on your stomach, and Bruce got the hint immediately,
"Yes – yes, of course. I'm sorry." He mumbled, running a hand through his hair. By the look of it, tousled and unkempt, you figured he'd been doing that quite a lot for at least the past half hour. "Is there anything else you'd like, though? A cup of water, perhaps some tea?"
"Tea would be fine, thank you." You turned to look at Alfred when you said these words, although Bruce could tell immediately they weren't for him by the way your voice was coated in sugar – something he knew he hadn't earned just yet. "You still know my favourite?"
"Of course, Miss," Alfred nodded politely with a smile, "I'll get it for you right away," and made his way towards the kitchen.
You and Bruce remained in silence for a while before he seemingly broke out of a trance.
"Please, do sit down."
You did so, carefully tucking a pillow behind your back, you stretched your legs ever so slightly and sighed in relief, hands resting on top of your stomach. "There, there", you mumbled, "All comfy, aren't we?"
Bruce eyed you and your stomach. There were so many things he wanted to ask you, and yet he did not know where to begin. Should he address the elephant in the room? Should he let you speak about it? What if you did not want to talk about it? Maybe the child wasn't even his – you could've moved on and started a life without him. He has no right to ask.
"You're looking..." he began. You waited for a continuation, and it surely came, seconds after. "Beautiful. Radiant."
"Thank you," was your polite response. You looked around the room – nothing had changed. Still the same paintings up on the walls, still the same portrait of Thomas and Martha Wayne holding a very tiny and very happy Bruce, still the same scent of lavender and books.
Still home.
"How have you been?" he asked, sitting down on the couch positioned next to yours, and trying his best to relax.
"How have I been?" you repeated. He wanted to catch up? Really? As if everything you had together in the past had meant nothing?
"Yes," he nodded, gesturing towards yourself. "How have you been these past few months?"
You scoffed. Fine. If he wanted to do this, then he would see it through until the very end.
"Oh, I'm doing just fine, Bruce." You said, venom evident in your words, dripping off them. "In fact, these last few months have been the jolliest of my life. The man I was in a relationship with, who's also the man who had proposed to me broke up because he said he did not love me anymore, and was fucking some random woman when I walked in on him, then he kicked me out of our home, had to go live in a hotel room for a few weeks before I finally got a place far, far away from his prying eyes, cutting edge technology and vigilante alter ego, then I have to deal with gossip magazines wanting to photograph my face and get some sort of statement from me, going as far as to trying to break into my house just to find out what truly happened."
Bruce winced at the harshness of your words. You'd had some terrible couple of months, clearly, and he didn't know what to say.
"But hey! How have you been, Bruce? How's life?" You were being sarcastic – that much was evident, and although he did deserve every ounce of cruelty you gave him, it also hurt.
"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "You can't imagine just how sorry I am... And how much I regret what happened."
"Ah," you sneered, twisting your face in disgust, "Is this why you invited me here? Because you regret hooking up with whoever that was back then? Got into a mess you couldn't undo? Miss me, oh so much, and need me back?"
Each word was like a dagger being plunged into Bruce's heart. Had heartbreak turned you so bitter?
No, not bitter. You were right, after all.
"I'm sorry," he said your name softly, sighing deeply. "I need to tell you something."
"And I'm sure I can't wait to hear whatever it is." You scoffed. Alfred quickly entered the living room, placing a tray with two mugs on the coffee table in front of you. He carefully handed you one of them, before walking away. Bruce's nose scrunched. Ouch.
"Thank you," you smiled at the butler, took a sip out of the mug, and sighed contentedly. "This man makes the best tea I've ever drank."
"He really does. But as I was saying, I need to tell you something."
"Bruce, I don't want to hear sob stories. I didn't come here to hear you whine and moan and complain about your life. I'm sure you suffered a lot, but I am not really interested." There you went again, sarcasm coming naturally to you and your words.
"I just need to tell you what really happened."
Another sneer.
"I saw what really happened Bruce. Stop it with the bullshit."
"Just – " Bruce took another deep breath. "Please. Just listen to me without any interruptions, please. If you want to scream at me and yell and slap me and punch me after, then that's okay."
"Tempting."
"But please, just let me speak."
"Okay."
Bruce looked at you in surprise. Okay? Just like that? So willingly?
"That's why I came here, isn't it? Please get it over with."
The man before you nodded. He wasn't going to sugarcoat things. It was time for you to know the truth.
"Back when we were engaged," he began, "There was this one night I went on patrol. And everything was going fine, until I ran into Crane."
You furrowed your brows. "Crane?" Then, you remembered what he'd said about interrupting, and muttered a quick "Sorry, go on."
"I ran into Crane."
It was almost as if Bruce could see the whole thing playing before him. The darkness of the night, the faint smell of the Scarecrow's fear toxin, the one he was immune to. It was all so clear in his mind – after all, that night was the beginning of the end.
"He started talking to me. Trying to get into my head, as he usually did. But that time was different. He... He started talking about me, my own personal life, my identity. And then he mentioned you." His gaze fell on you, and you were met with hopelessness and despair. It was heart-wrenching.
"He knew you. Knew you, he knew who you were, knew who I am. He threatened to tell Arkham City residents our identities. He threatened to hurt you if I didn't help him."
Your face was pale with worry.
"And what did you do? You didn't help him, did you? It's Crane!"
"The GCPD intervened and killed him on the spot. Some rookie officer convinced it was the best thing to do. Crane was holding a phone in his hand when he died. It contained files, files about all those close to me. I got to delete everything just before he sent it."
You listened attentively. No one had ever gotten as close to unmask Bruce. Well, no one until Crane. You had heard of his death, but only thought it was a good thing that such a criminal was out of the streets.
"And I..." Bruce hesitated. This was the hard part, telling you what he'd done, the hard choice he'd made. "I thought... It was unthinkable to lose you. I just couldn't. Crane had gotten too close. I was terrified darli – " he quickly corrected himself, switching to your name. "I couldn't lose you... I barely slept that night, thinking of what could've happened to you."
In your face, Bruce could see some recognition. Were you putting the pieces together? Did you know?
"I thought..." he continued, "I thought I had to keep you safe. And in my mind, you'd never be safe if you were with me. As long as you were associated with Bruce Wayne, you'd be in constant danger."
"No..." you mumbled, shaking your head,
"And you're so stubborn..." Bruce's eyes shed with unshed tears, voice carrying an amount of emotion you weren't familiar with. "You'd never listen to me. You'd stick by my side and argue that you loved me and didn't care about the danger..."
"You didn't..." you covered your mouth.
"So, the only plausible explanation was driving you away."
The tension shifted immediately in the room. Bruce couldn't tell what was going through your head, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.
"I paid someone to put on that little show with me, that day. I knew you were coming home early. It pained me so much to do it, I swear..."
"I can't believe this..." you stood up, attempting to do it quickly but failing because of your stomach. "I can't believe you would do that."
Bruce remained sitting, not wanting to distress you any further.
"Please, you have to understand – everything I did was for your protection."
"So you cheated on me to drive me away!?"
"We were going to get married! If you shared my name, you'd share your enemies, and I promised I would never drag you into my other life. I promised to keep you safe."
"Yeah!" You threw your arms up in the air in frustration. "So! You could've taught me martial arts! Gifted me a taser! Taught me how to throw a punch, give me a gun or something! Instead, you thought the brightest idea was to dump me?"
"It hurt like hell; it really did. I didn't sleep, I didn't eat – I was in hell without you." Bruce was getting desperate. This is not how he wanted things to go, not how he'd pictured it going. You were freaking out, understandably so, but some part of him was hoping you would understand. Would you ever?
"Why didn't you just talk to me?" You were getting angry now. This whole conversation was pissing you off.So Bruce had broken your heart because he wanted to protect you!? "We're two responsible adults, Bruce! You could've told me what happened."
"I couldn't. You would've never agreed to stay away from me."
"Exactly! Because I love you! I'd have stuck with you through thick and thin!"
Bruce was so engaged in the argument; he missed your slip. Love, not loved. Present tense.
"And that was precisely what I didn't want to happen! I didn't want to come home one night and found you dead on the ground or kidnapped! I was doing it all for you!"
"By breaking my heart."
"It had to be done."
"It didn't.
"I was thinking of you."
"How old are we, Bruce!? 16? 17? Why didn't you just talk to me?"
Alfred had tried to exit the perimeter. He didn't want to be anywhere near you two, but decided against that decision. Someone had to be able to step in and protect the young master. He was positive that given the chance, you'd throw something at him, and that was sure to leave a mark. He didn't doubt your abilities.
"I'm so sorry," Bruce pleaded, "But once again, please understand. I was just doing what i thought was best."
"You left me!"
"I was protecting you!"
"You left me, Bruce!" You yelled, unable to fight back your tears. Once again, you didn't know what got you so agitated. Maybe your hormones, maybe the lingering feelings you deep down still had for the man sitting down before you. "I loved you; I needed you by my side, and you left me! Because you thought someone was coming after me? You said it yourself – Crane did not send the files to anyone. We were safe. We were fine. And you went and destroyed everything we had because of some fear you had?"
It was Bruce's turn to stand up, defensively placing his hands in front of his chest.
"I couldn't lose you. Please, please, you have to forgive me. I was such an idiot, I shouldn't have done it, I know. I miss you – I miss you so much, I have for the past few months, I can't live without you."
"I couldn't live without you either and had to make do! I still have to!"
"There was an uncomfortable silence as the last few words hung in the air. It was then that Bruce decided to finally ask the question he'd been meaning to ever since he first saw you on the street.
"Is the child mine?"
You widened your eyes, looking away from him. Your hands instinctively went to your stomach.
"You have no right to ask that."
"Please. Just... Is it mine?"
You thought it over. There was no use in hiding it. The child would most likely grow up to look like him, bear his eyes and smile, scrunch his nose in the way his father did when confused. And for all it was worth, Bruce deserved to know. He wasn't a bad person, and you knew he'd be a good father.
"Yes," you mumbled, softly.
Bruce didn't hesitate to ask his next question.
"When did you find out?"
"A few days later. I was all by myself, and so scared, Bruce..." Sitting down, you looked at the floor, finding a sudden interest in examining your shoes. "It was the hardest thing I've ever done... Bearing this child all by myself, without you... As soon as my stomach started showing, I had to get out of here. Tabloids were going crazy, and I didn't want you finding out. I just wanted a normal life for him."
"Him?"
"Yeah. I know for sure, it's a little boy. I love him so much already..."
Bruce sighed, raking a hand through his hair. He knew he'd screwed things up the first morning he woke up without you by his side, but this was simply too much.
"I love you." The determination with which he said it took you by surprise. "I always have. I never stopped. I'm sorry for what I did. Fuck, I'm an idiot. I knew I would put you through hell, and I still did it because it would be the best for you. I'm so sorry."
These words did not fall on deaf ears. You were listening, hung up on every word. Bruce was right there, right in front of you, apologizing and confessing he still loved you. And didn't you love him back? Hadn't you spent countless nights crying over his absence, wishing it were his fingers wiping away the tears that refused to stop, wishing that he was there next to you the moment you realised you were pregnant, wishing he would hug you tightly, kiss your forehead and assure you everything would be fine? That it had all been a very bad nightmare and you were back at home with his body wrapped around yours?
"I... I don't know how I should feel," you said. Which was partially true. Some part of you did still love him, but he'd put you through too much heartache. You weren't about to just forgive him and kiss all his worries away and pretend nothing had ever happened. "You really hurt me, Bruce... I don't know if I can go through that again. What if someone else gets a hold of my information? Of your identity? Are you going to push me away again? Push our son away?"
Bruce looked at you, eyebrows furrowed, and in one quick motion, was down on one knee, hands desperately wanting to rest on top of yours. "I promise," his voice was soft, and it reminded you of your sweet Bruce, of the man you'd fallen in love with and were ready to love forever, "It won't happen again. I'll do better next time. Hell, there won't even be a next time. I promise. I can't live without you."
"Bruce, I... It's not as simple as that..."
"You don't love me anymore?"
"That's not what I said."
"So you do?" A hint of a smile.
"Gosh, Bruce, stop it! What you did was terrible – it destroyed me. Those were the worst months of my life, you have no idea how it felt to be me, alone and pregnant and scared! You can't just waltz back into my life and tell me you love me and are sorry. I don't trust you anymore. It's just not that simple."
"I understand."
Bruce sighed and stood up.
"I just wanted to tell you the truth, anyway. You deserve it. I'm really sorry for what I did."
Once again, you're basked in silence. This time, it was you who broke it, with a question of your own, one that had plagued you ever since he told you everything was staged.
"Did you sleep with her?" Your voice was meek, fragile. Did you want to know the truth?
"No." Bruce answered with determination. "We didn't have sex. I wasn't really naked."
Your eyes widened.
"I guess you were too mad to notice." He smiled sadly.
You looked away at the ground.
Somehow, it did make you a little more at ease that he hadn't really had sex with that woman. It didn't erase all of your pain but gave you some slight respite.
"Have you been with anyone, after..."
"No." He answered again. "There was never anyone else. Never could be. There was only just you. There's always been just you."
You nodded thoughtfully.
"Would you like to feel your son?"
"Huh?"
"He's kicking. Would you?"
Bruce gave you an enthusiastic nod and sat beside you, allowing you to guide your hands to the exact spot the baby was kicking him. Sure enough, he felt something press against his hand repeatedly. He chuckled, automatically leaning forward to feel it better.
"Hey there, little guy," he whispered. "I can't believe you're real."
You stood there for a while, him by your side, hand on top of your stomach. It felt weird, but in a comforting way. It was just you and Bruce and your unborn child, and you somehow felt like things were okay. Everything was fine.
"I've never stopped loving you either," you said after a while. Bruce turned to you, allowing you to speak. "When I found out I was pregnant, all I wanted was to call you, let you know we were finally going to be parents...
"I can't promise that things will return immediately to the way they were. I can't promise I won't be mad at you, because I am, I really am."
You shifted in your seat to face him better. Your eyes trailed his face; how you missed it. The lovely cheekbones you loved to trace on lazy Sunday afternoons, the forehead you loved to kiss on clingy mornings. He looked just as bit as handsome as he did the last time you'd seen him. His eyebags were deeper and more sagged, but that didn't stop him from being the most handsome man you had ever laid your eyes upon.
"But... I'm willing to try."
Bruce's head shot up.
What?
"You really hurt me, Bruce. I thought I’d never be happy again, thought my life would be ruined forever. I thought I'd lost the love of my life." Your voice failed. "But... although your idea was just terrible, you might have had the best intentions in mind. I just... Wish you'd have spoken to me first."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It killed me inside, it really did. But everything I do has always been for you. You must know that. Must know that every decision I take, good or bad, light or not, is always with you in thought." This time, Bruce did not avert his gaze. He was done looking away, done hiding, done being without you. Should this be the last time he ever saw you, he lingered on your face, committing it to memory. Your pretty eyes, the beautiful shape of your nose, your slightly parted lips. Had anyone ever been this beautiful?
"I know," you replied, giving him hope. "Which is why... Why I'm..." It took a deep breath and a few circles rubbed on top of your stomach to calm you down. This was a huge decision to make. Allowing Bruce back into your life could either be the greatest thing you would do, or possibly the worst. There was no middle-ground, and it scared you. You needed a middle-ground, needed a safety net, needed something that did not put your unborn son's life at risk.
And yet... You couldn't help but still want Bruce. You knew it. Your heart knew it. It still beat for him as loudly as it did the first time he'd kissed you, the time he'd asked you to be his, the first time you woke up with him by your side. You knew his intentions were good. His idea was terrible – fucking terrible – and it had only cost you pain and sadness. But you also knew Bruce made reckless decisions when it came to you. He was in love, and he was extremely protective. He had no one aside from Alfred and you and knew damn well he couldn't get rid of the old butler even if he tried; but would try his hardest to get rid of you if it only meant you got to live another day.
It was both endearing and soul-crushing, as things often were with Bruce.
"Which is why I'm willing to give you another chance."
Bruce released a sigh of release, and dropped his head to his hands, unable to say a word.
"Again, I can't promise I'll forgive you over night. I've just had the worst few months of my life. I won't fall back into your arms immediately. But I want to give you a chance to make things right."
It was only when you saw his shoulders shake, that you realised Bruce was sobbing. You placed a tentative hand on his shoulder and felt him shake his head.
"Bruce?" you asked, "Please talk to me, are you alright?"
He looked up at you and smiled. You quickly realised they were tears of joy.
"I love you so, so much. And I will spend every day of my life for as long as I shall live showing it. I'll make things right. I know I can't take back these past few months, and I know I can't magically take away the pain – nor can I wish for your forgiveness all at once. But I'll make it up to you. Forever. That is my promise to you. Because I love you. Fuck, it's insane how much I love how much I always have. You're my family, and I never want to be parted from you. Ever again."
He reached towards your face, his fingers wiping away something wet. Were you crying? Surely tears of joy too.
"I love you too, Bruce. I never really stopped."
He nodded and leaned closer to your face, eyes dropping to your lips. It was a small question, but he wanted to be sure.
"Is this okay? Can I?" he asked, eyes never leaving your mouth. "Please?" The last question was whispered so softly, you were actually not sure if you'd actually heard it, or just imagined it.
You replied in kind.
"Please."
And without missing a beat, he pressed his lips against yours.
His kiss was familiar. It felt like home. Bruce kissed slowly, taking his time. He was learning you all over again, tongue playfully fighting with yours. His hand cupped your cheek, and he brought you closer to him. It felt nice, it felt familiar, it felt like home.
You still perfectly in his arms, and the thought made Bruce smile into your kiss, pouring even more of himself into it. You gave back tenfold, pressing against him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You missed this. Missed him. Missed not knowing where you ended and he began, missed feeling the soft beat of his heart against your chest, missed the soft groans that rumbled in his chest, missed being enveloped by him.
When you two eventually parted for air, he did not rest, kissing every inch of your face, until you were smiling and giggling and holding his face in place so you could look him in the eye.
"I love you." You spoke.
"I love you too," he replied, before caressing your stomach. "I promise I'll be here for him. I love him so much already. I'll spoil this boy rotten, give him everything he ever needs."
You smiled.
Your life had taken quite a nasty turn after Bruce had "cheated" on you and dumped you. Back then, you thought it was merely because he was, after all, the billionaire playboy everyone accused him of being. Now, you knew it was only because he loved you more than anything and wanted to keep you safe. Yes, he had hurt you, and you wouldn't forget that so easily – but it had still been an action out of love.
You'd been so lost the day you found out you were pregnant, crying on the bathroom of a hotel, clutching your stomach, and feeling like shit.
But right now, with Bruce by your side, his hands on your stomach and cheek, and his eyes regarding you with such tenderness, such warmth, you knew all would be fine.
You'd finally found each other again.
A/N: Whew!!!! We made it!!! Yay!!!! Okay so, in case you've made it this far and are interested to find out what the hell happened to me, just keep on reading!
So, as I mentioned before, I just got back to uni. It's killing me. It's kicking my ass. I've been sleeping less than 5 hours per day, and am currently losing my sanity. I don't have the time to sleep, to study, to write. There's so much to do and it's only the second week, and I'm really sorry for the delay, but things have been hectic. I can't remember the last time I slept more than like, 5 hours.
So, this fic is a bit longer than my other 200 Followers Event one. Here's the thing: I got a lovely request from @xxemmarldxx, but in my mind, it was far too big, and far too ambitious for a short 2/3k word drabble (which was the point of my event). So I told her I would do it properly some other time, because it was just too good, but would end up being way too big.
A few days later, I get this request. And they're very similar. Like, really, really similar. So I was like "You know what. Let's combine them. How about we combine the two, and write a big ass drabble the way I wanted to?"
This is the result. I've been writing this for the past week, and to be fair, it was KILLING ME. I was writing in every possible break, using every free space possible to get a few words in, and at some point, I started seeing it more as a "chore" than something I wanted to do. It became "the fic I need to finish", sort of like a burden. And it's not the requesters fault!!! It's just, I was so busy that, in the middle of everything, I couldn't find joy in writing because I was so stressed.
I'm sorry if this piece is bad. I'm not sure how I feel about it. I think I've done much better in the past, and this is not my best work. The word count got away from me and by the end I was just freaking out because I couldn't write anymore. And that was a real bummer because I love writing and I loved this request so much.
I hope you guys liked reading it and enjoyed it! I really do! I think that for a while I won't be able to write Bruce hahaha, I got a bit tired.
Anyways, I hope you're all having an amazing day!!! <3
#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne x y/n#bruce wayne x you#bale!bruce wayne#bale!batman x reader#bale!batman#bale!bruce wayne x reader#the dark knight#the dark knight trilogy#nolanverse#the dark knight fanfiction#the dark knight fanfic#nolanverse fanfiction#bruce wayne fanfiction#batman fanfiction#batman x reader#batman x fem!reader#bruce wayne x fem!reader
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Part 2 of my Paris special commentary (Part 1 here) because Tumblr is an ass and has a word limit.
Disclaimer: This is long asf.
Marinette here playing 5D chess, queen shit.
The most important thing the special confirmed is that Gabe added the word "dark" to his transformation phrase on purpose cause he's a dramatic bitch.
I am here for Claw Noir mocking Gabe. Go off, king.
"Oh nO, iT WAs aN IlLusIon!" That giggle is adorable. She's so cute.
Ladyfly is an ass name, but she looks so great.
Not Gabe getting annoyed at Claw Noir's teasing. See, now this is why we stan Claw Noir on this blog.
Gabe's plan isn't half bad, actually.
Symbolism? In my children's cartoon? It's more likely than you think.
They're having a pun-off.
RIP Chat Noir's ear.
Gabe got feathered lmao
Monarch dipped like a little bitch.
A mirror, I called it. It'll make for some nice symbolism.
"Let alone a calm and gentle mom" I wonder what Sabine is like in their world to make Emonette feel like she's so alone.
I like how they handled the villains tbh. I wasn't a fan of making it seem like Marinette was one step away from becoming a supervillain at all times, but it seems less like that's the case and more like The Supreme took advantage of her suffering and vulnerability at her lowest moments.
It's also nice that they established that Shady and Claw weren't the actual big bads and are just hurt kids who got recruited into a fight they weren't ready for. Their motivation isn't some rehash of Gabriel's, they are literally trying to survive under the rule of someone who will kill them if they don't do his bidding, and because of whom they're dying. Their life is literally full of suffering and they're trying to find something that'll give them a way out. Shady wants Marinette's life, and Claw Noir wants his mother back.
Like, it doesn't excuse their actions, but it does add a more humane element to them that lends itself better to the kind of redemption Miraculous likes to do, which is to fix things with a speech. That's why this redemption works, and Gabe's doesn't.
Anyway.
The back and forth between Chat Noir and Claw Noir was pretty funny ngl.
And we discover that Claw Noir wants his mother back. Of course.
MY POOR BABY
When Marinette was talking about how she was also angry and hurt, but chose to love herself and the world around her and chose to try and fix it... that hit hard. Honestly, it did. It's everything I love about Marinette in one speech. I love it.
And then onto my personal favorite scene in the entire special, possibly in the entire show.
That whole conversation was powerful. "I'm as well as I can be anyway," that's so profound. Like, of course you aren't going to be 100% okay after losing someone you love, but Adrien wants to move on and be happy like his mother would have wanted him to. This scene really showcases Adrien's empathy and his strength, when he acknowledges that having no friends can make it harder for Claw Noir to move on, and then he tells him that only he can make the choice to stop being alone. And that's really true. This scene really showcases everything amazing about Adrien, his hope and optimism, his empathy and his strength. How he finds the strength to keep going by choosing to not be alone. It's beautiful.
Like, it could have been so easy for both Marinette and Adrien to give into their darkest impulses, and Shadybug and Claw Noir really are just representations of how letting your hurt overpower you can lead you down a dark path, and it really highlights their strength, that they choose to make the right choices everyday, despite everything. It really highlights their characters and their arcs. And they're able to take everything they've learned, and look at what they could have been in the eyes and help them change too. It's so poetic.
It would have been a little more impactful if the show had spent more than 10 minutes out of 5 seasons focusing on Adrien's grief and how it has impacted him, but whatever.
Anyway, it also had some Adrien and Nino friendship crumbs, and I'll be darned if I didn't gobble it up like a starved animal. Also, we have confirmation that "Space Mutants vs. Ghost Shark" is Nino's favorite movie, so Nino stans please say "thank you Paris special."
And they are REDEEMED.
Shadybug fixes everything with her Lucky Charm after spending the whole special making destructive ones. My heart.
Shadybug and Claw Noir stop being evil and immediately go from hating each other's guts to flirting shamelessly. They just speedran enemies to lovers in a matter of seconds. They literally just defaulted to flirting. Truly, the natural state of Ladynoir in any universe. We stan.
Gotta be honest, I'm not a fan of the new designs. Wish they had kept the old ones. I'm one of those people whose toxic trait is liking Claw Noir's design, so I'm a little unhappy with it, but hey, it's a sweet scene.
Also, Claw Noir's hair went from the color of rotten bananas to ripe bananas. If that was intentional, I applaud the writers for being both profound and funny as hell.
Aaaaaaand Gabe is back, because we can't have nice things.
The montage going through different realities was great, it was small but I enjoyed it.
They're literally so cute omg. Couple behaviors fr. I'm so obsessed with them.
HUGS
POUND IT
They're holding hands... already... like they're in love... I'm so emotional... I WILL NEVER GET OVER THIS
And they're gone. But their adventures will continue forever in my mind and in my fanfics. And in other people's art that I will ravenously consume.
Cute Alya and Marinette scene. This is really sweet, I love the exploration of the impact Alya has had on Marinette's life.
And now, I'm not an Alyanette shipper, but I think they should kis- oh, wait, never mind, they did it.
And thus, the endless night comes to an end (it happened a while ago but that's just semantics).
Final thoughts
I really loved this so much. Sure, there were some exposition dumps that probably should have happened in the actual series, but that's not the fault of this special. This is probably my bias talking but this is the best special and it's literally perfect, no I will not take any constructive criticism on that. This, this special and everything in it, this is what Miraculous is all about. This is exactly what I wanted, this is what I signed up for. It's literally the best thing ever to come out of this entire show.
#MLB#Miraculous Ladybug#Adrien Agreste#Marinette Dupain Cheng#Gabriel Agreste#Alya Cesaire#Ladybug#Shadybug#Chat Noir#Cat Noir#Claw Noir#Toxinelle#Griffe Noire#Ubiquity#Hesperia#Monarch#Hawkmoth#Betterfly#Miraculous World#ML Paris Special#My meta#ML Spoilers#ML Paris Spoilers#Shadyclaw#Ladynoir#Adrienette#Meta
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Stay With Me didn't let us down! 😭 We got kisses and a confession. There is no way anyone can say it's not a BL now. 🙄 Not that there was any doubt even before that. The subtext was just too obvious.
I can't believe they went there. Super sleuths have already found that it really is just lip balm, but the implication is clearly that Wu Bi's dad found his lube. Wu Bi why did you do your dad dirty like that? Don't smear your lube on his mouth! 🤣
Wu Bi was about to confess but he chickened out. 😅 Shy Wu Bi is so cute. Wu Bi really can't live without Su Yu. He had never been that bitchy and rude to Mo Yi before, but now there's someone at home he wants to be with and has no time for Mo Yi's shit.
First almost caught by Wu Bi's dad and now Mao Chong. Su Yu's nervous shifty eyes cracked me up. We all know he and Wu Bi have been doing something something in his room.
They are so happy to see each other!😭Their smiles. Really, I can't. I love how much they love each other. I could not stop smiling watching them hug.
Oh how I squealed. THEY ARE SO FRIGGIN CUTE!!! AHHHHHHH! This might literally be my favorite moment in the entire series.
"Go cough somewhere else" lol. Poor Mo Yi. Right in front of his salad.
Su Yu's little smile is EVERYTHING. I feel like we're missing a scene before this though. It just seems a bit out of place that Wu Bi would run up to kiss Su Yu at school and for Su Yu to not be surprised or embarrassed. I'm counting on that uncut release later. Actually I felt like the editing for these two eps was a bit choppy. I'm going to guess it's because they cut a bunch of stuff because it was too gay.
I love all the subtle ways they show us they're boyfriends. Su Yu casually using Wu Bi as a leg rest, Wu Bi teasing Su Yu about him not knowing he's Wu Bi's most important person, Su Yu taking care of Wu Bi, and Wu Bi making not so subtle hints about their relationship in front of everyone. Why always in front of Doudou? Always! 😅
The normally aloof Su Yu kissed Wu Bi! Again it's Su Yu's little smile after the kiss that makes it so sweet. The spoilers were actually true! I didn't think this would happen because in the behind the scenes Jiongmin had said there was no scene where he kisses Xu Bin, but here we are! Xu Bin's dream has finally come true. 🤭
I was not expecting such an explicit confession! They tried to hide the gay a little by having Su Yu add the ocean part, but Wu Bi's qq screen name is 我想我是海 (I wish I am the sea) and so when Su Yu shouts 我爱你, 大海 (I love you sea), he is not so subtly telling Wu Bi that he loves him. Awwwww. 🥹
But also, I have to drag production a bit on the terrible green screen CGI here. It looks so fake! Did they run out of money? How hard is it to film a sunset at a beach?
No. Don't you dare Mo Yi. Fuck off. If the last two eps break my heart I'm going to consider SWM as having only 22 episodes where the boys are together and happy.
The girls on weibo only went a little crazy. I can't say I blame them. I was internally screaming last night too. I didn't see SWM on the main hot search but they were trending for a little while. Hopefully it was short enough where it didn't draw too much attention. 😅
#girding my loins for the angst and pain to come#but until then i will swoon over how cute and sweet these boys are#i seriously can't believe how obvious they are being about wu bi and su yu fucking#stay with me#stay with me the series#stay with me reactions#哥哥你别跑
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Hi! Can I ask for a request similar to this but instead the reader thinks the characters are just joking? I deal with a lot of relationship insecurity, especially when it comes to confessions, so like maybe a little angst with a fluffy ending.
With the characters Vil, Rook, Lilia, Riddle, Leona if that's alright (plus anyone else you want to add! I also don't mind if you want to remove one of them, or if you don't want to accept the request! Have a good day 🖤)
Please just accept their feelings they're so down bad...
❥ ⌗ characters: Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt, Lilia Vanrouge.
❥ ⌗ summary: They finally confess after pining for quite a while and you think they're joking
❥ ⌗ tags: somewhat angst with a happy ending, some general headcanons here and there, reader has insecurities that are not specified. not proofread.
❥ ⌗ a/n: apologies for taking so long and congrats ! you're the only one who was saved from me clearing my askbox because i really liked this request. sorry that i didn't write for leona and riddle, i already had vil, rook and lilia's parts planned beforehand</3
'...Vil, it's not funny. Why would you joke about something like that?'
Vil was completely smitten for you, and to have someone like HIM with insanely high standards for EVERYTHING down bad then that says a lot about you as a person.
It didn't take him too long to notice how you lacked confidence — normally, he wouldn't care. But we are talking about you, so he constantly tries to help you in a very Vil way.
He was very meticulous when it was about you, Vil has been planning his confession for quite a while now. As you know, he's quite the perfectionist kind of guy; Vil has every single thing planned to the smallest detail.
It's a fool-proof plan, of course after weeks and weeks trying to pursue you romantically he HAS to make it all worth it.
Of course there's a problem he wasn't considering; Vil knows you like him back, he figured it out rather quickly. However, that was not the problem — he was missing a detail.
He had planned out EVERYTHING and with that I Mean EVERYTHING, even what he would say if you rejected him (Vil thought that maybe even if you reciprocate his feelings you might not feel comfortable with him being a celebrity, something he wouldn't be mad at you for.) but your actual answer to his confession left him speechless.
I think both of you have quite a misunderstanding here.
Did he misinterpret your entire relationship? He's now overthinking. Vil was so sure that you liked him back. Did he completely mess up?
'My dear, I'm not… I'm not joking. Why would you even assume that I would make such a distasteful joke like that in the first place?'
'You… You can't be serious, right? Why would you… like me back…'
It's insanely hard to catch Rook's attention, contrary to what most people might think.
He's the self-proclaimed hunter of love, someone who's constantly seeking beauty to admire and love. Yet… that's the same reason why he feels as if he can't experience romantic love.
He's had a few crushes here and there, but nobody fully catches his eyes — nobody, until you appeared.
Rook fully believes you're the most beautiful person he's ever seen… Not only physically. Every single part about you feels so foreign to him that Rook just wants to know more and more!...
But you don't seem to acknowledge how beautiful you are, that's ok! He'll tell you all the time how wonderful you are, no matter how much you struggle to believe him, his words are nothing but pure honesty. Just thinking about you makes his heart weak, always lowering his guard as if your presence alone was able to protect him from any danger, just what are you doing to him?
Rook loves the chase, so when he gets impatient and decides it's time to confess then that means he's completely serious about this.
He's not meticulous as Vil is when planning a confession — after all, he wants it to be natural. That doesn't mean he isn't saving a few hundreds of poems about his undying love for you.
It isn't hard for him to express his love for you, since he seems to be thinking about his emotions for such a huge amount of time he's struggling to focus!
Rook was waiting for the perfect moment to confess, a moment so intimate between the two of you that felt right. Like Vil, he was quite confident and knew that you liked him back beforehand.
However, he has also noticed that you sometimes reject his compliments, something that leaves him worried all the time. He seems to be slightly stressed on a daily basis because of this, even Vil noticed his sudden change.
When he hears your response, you can see the way his usual smile falters for a second — it's almost unnoticeable. It's not unexpected, but oh, how he wished to hug you tightly and tell you how wrong you were about yourself.
Ah, how he desires you to think of yourself as highly as he does, he tries his best to hide how upset he is — not with you, but whoever made you feel as if you couldn't trust his words.
'Why wouldn't I like you..? Ah, dear Trickster, there's nothing about you I could ever dislike!'
'Ah… you're not serious, right? I don't like it when you flirt with me as a joke…'
You're right in a way, Lilia enjoys flirting for fun. Asking someone on a date just to see their reaction and maybe get to know them better. His feelings are somewhat fleeting.
He used to flirt with you because he liked your reactions, something about you always felt so refreshing… Is it perhaps the fact that you view his world in an entirely different way? Maybe you're just a normal human who just happens to be attractive to him. Either way, being with you felt different.
And it was confusing for him, Lilia knows his position as an old fae and A Single Father, which makes things complicated, let alone the fact that you two are from entirely different species (which was never a problem to begin with, however, it might inconvenience you in the future if your relationship lasted long enough)
He has been in love a few times before in his life, he's been afraid of being in love too; but that gave him a fair amount of regrets, regrets that he's not willing to either let go of or repeat.
He decided to court you as soon as possible, but his advances are somewhat… odd, expected from a man like Lilia. You usually didn't even realize what he was trying to do and if you did, you played it off as if it was a joke. Silver had to deal with his father whining about you being 'too oblivious to realize his clear and totally obvious advances' way too many times, poor guy.
Deep down… He knew it was something else, Lilia acted as if it was just you… being oblivious, nothing more. However, he's pretty good at reading people— the old fae had a very clear idea of what was going on. Which is why when he decided to stop playing around and officially ask you out, your response did not surprise him in the slightest.
'Ah, my dear.. You wound my heart. I've been trying to let you know of my feelings in a subtle manner, but you always played it off as a mere jest. What can I do to earn your trust?'
Reblogs are appreciated!
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland imagines#twst#disney twst#twst headcanons#vil schoenheit#vil schoenheit x reader#rook hunt#rook hunt x reader#lilia vanrouge#lilia vanrouge x reader
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MK's (and MKulia's) odds according to EP9-13 leaks. (Spoilers, obvi.)
hey all! i have too many thoughts and instead of going on a long ramble on my priv i thought i could.. y'know.. actually share my thoughts for once! i'm gonna say this right now that my thoughts may leave a rather negative tongue, so if mkulia (or mk!) is ur comfort and u don't wanna hear anything bad i suggest not reading this!! without further ado, time to ramble!
i'll talk about MK first before i talk about my thoughts on MKulia. right off the bat: she's getting eliminated EP9. this just goes without saying i think but i want to elaborate on this more.
in EP8 we have: raj | wayne | julia | MK | caleb | priya | damien | zee
in EP10 we see damien:
in EP12 we see caleb:
and in EP11 we see wayne and raj's clothes:
and going back to EP10's description, both julia and priya are mentioned:
AS FAR AS EP9 GOES, this leaves: raj | wayne | julia | MK | caleb | priya | damien
MK is not mentioned nor seen. at all. and yes, raj is left up in the air as well but at least there is higher hopes for our silly guy. there has been the popular theory of "well, raj may have given wayne his hoodie to remember him!" but... i think the odds of that are low? raj gifting wayne something before getting eliminated is very plausible, but i see no reason as to why he'd give away his hoodie to him? i feel like if that was the case he would have given wayne something else IMO. even if we don't take it at full face value, there's still a very low chance that MK's safe from elimination (and she'd probably be safe for like another 2 episodes if she were to be safe EP9. the odds of her being a finalist are also incredibly low). after being outed as a cheater, she hasn't been doing all that well in challenges either and since EP9's challenge has to do something with breaking objects, i can only imagine how well she'd do with that. and MKulia can make their alliance not-so-obvious-and-not-so-strong for so long. people are gonna want to break them up.
now let's say MK's out EP9. this leaves both priya and julia as the only female contestants remaining in the game. and assuming they're going to add a female finalist it's going to be julia. and ALSO assuming we're going to get helpers for the finale, we MAY get more mkulia content. it's not that bad!
may i also add EP9's title is 'Breaking Up Is Hard To Do' while yes this is about prileb, this could also be about mkulia. with mk getting eliminated, julia has to deal with fighting on her own. and we know very well that julia cares for MK, platonic or not.
So what does this mean for MKulia?
people fail to realize what mk getting eliminated means. we get to see how julia deals with it (unless she just moves on and doesn't care like what priya kind of did when millie got eliminated ... i'd cry.)
plus, if MK does get eliminated next episode we'll have more MKulia content in EP9 without a doubt. there's still so many questions left unanswered and i'm sure those will be resolved before MK goes home. and honestly, i have high hopes. i think MKulia will end off on a sweet note. do i think we'll get canon MKulia? absolutely not. it'd be really nice, but i doubt it. at best, it'll probably be up to viewers interpretation whether or not julia's care for MK comes from a romantic or platonic standpoint. i think that's how far we're going to get. calling it queer bait is a little bit of an exaggeration IMO, then again i am very picky with the fandoms i am in so i don't really know what it's like to ship something that is possibly queerbait. we just gotta buckle up and endure whatever BS will get thrown at us MKulia nation. o7
and hopefully i am very wrong about this. i have extremely low expectations so i can be happy if im wrong LMFAO!!
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Hey, Clare!! First of all, I completely adore your fics and I re-read many of them multiple times! They're one of the main reasons I got back into the Marauders fandom and you quickly became one of my favourite authors (of any fandom!!)
I have to say, though, theogony is my absolute favourite! I started reading it in 2022 and I never found something else quite like it, it's truly special, and I'm so happy that you completed it! It was well worth the wait!! I'll happily read anything else you write in that universe if you ever do (tbf I'll happily read anything you write, period 😆)
Anyway, your most recent reblog reminded me that I started drawing how I imagined theogony ATJ!James back in 2022… the plan was to add Sophie!Lily and maybe draw a couple of scenes, but life happened and I never got around to finishing it and ended up not posting it at all, which is a shame (tbh at the time I wasn't quite satisfied with how it looked and planned to do more research on the period-accurate clothing, hair and etc, but in retrospect it looks fine and I was probably just being too hard on myself lol) so I decided to finally share it with you!
Better late than never I guess 😅 it's a simple thing, but I hope you like it!!
ALLY OH MY GOD first of all this is the loveliest message ever, I cannot thank you enough for being so kind about my works! and SECOND OF ALL….I actually screamed out loud when I scrolled and saw this beautiful, wonderful art!!! that is Dimitrios son of Philoctetes of Athens!!!
I’m like pacing in my apartment waving my hands around (trying to type is an uphill battle) about this right now, my god this is SO BEAUTIFUL!
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seven sentence sunday
tagged by @daffi-990 💖
making more progress on alive shannon yaaay! this fic is gonna be such a mix of angst and fluff, and I hope i'll get the angst part right bc I'm not good at it, and so far a lot of after-accident stuff is turning out too cute lol (gonna fix it soon with the bombing lol)
here's a lil buddie moment finally haha (they're not in love here yet but obvi there's always been something - and it's so hard to write them not in love and pining bc in my fics they're always in love already haha)
prev snippet
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“So, it’s weird, isn’t it?” he asks, then takes a huge gulp of his beer.
“What is?” Buck asks carefully, grabbing the second bottle and opening it.
“This whole thing.” Eddie shrugs. “Shan being here. Was it weird?” he nods towards the living room, indicating Buck hanging out with her before Eddie came home. Buck thinks for a moment, not really sure how to answer.
“I mean, I guess a little bit? Not as much as I expected, we just watched TV.” It’s Buck’s turn to shrug. “It was fine. It is fine. A little awkward, but we literally just met, so hopefully that changes. Since, you know, she’s here to stay, and I’m- I’m, uh- I guess I’m here often enough, so I don’t want it to be awkward and stuff-” he stumbles over his words, suddenly not sure why it’s even important for him and her to get along. It would be so easy for them to just not see each other. It’s not like Eddie and Shannon are gonna hang out all the time now, after she’s better and gets back to her own life. All that’s gonna connect them after the divorce is Chris. So, really, Buck has no reason to want to get along with her beyond her staying here for now. They don’t have to be friends, and if it’s weird for a couple weeks, so what?
“Buck.” Eddie interrupts his rambling, his eyes softening. “I know what you mean. I- I kinda hoped you guys would get along, is that stupid?” he chuckles. And, well, it’s settled now, Buck has to make friends with her, doesn’t he? “Since you’re, you know, Christopher’s best friend.” he adds with amusement, and Buck beams. But then Eddie sighs and shakes his head. “And he’s so happy to have her around.”
“I noticed.” Buck smiles.
“Yeah. He loves being able to just go into another room and hug her, talk to her, have her help him with his homework, play games with him. Just have a relationship with her again. He’s actually-” he laughs. “He’s teaching her to play his favorite video games, and she sucks at it. So bad. He’s determined, though.” Eddie gets that look on his face he always gets when talking about Chris, so much love and fondness and adoration. It might be one of Buck’s favorite expressions of his. Not that he has any favorites, of course, that’d be weird. He’s not analyzing his best friend’s face and looks and smiles, and he’s definitely not making sure to remember every single one, mentally filing them carefully in the rapidly growing drawer with Eddie’s name on it in his mind.
___
no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gayarthur @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @diazblunt @911onabc @eddiediaztho @housewifebuck @lover-of-mine @gayhoediaz @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @hoodie-buck @monsterrae1 @hippolotamus @ladydorian05 @forthewolves @honestlydarkprincess @wildlife4life @spotsandsocks @eowon @theotherbuckley @weewootruck @thewolvesof1998 @disasterbuckdiaz @spotsandsocks @jesuisici33 @callaplums @loserdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @underwater-ninja-13 @thewolvesof1998 @giddyupbuck
#seven sentence sunday#the alive shannon fic#shannon diaz#buddie wip#buddie fic#wikiangela writes#my writing#fic snippet#my wips#not sure how i feel about the ending of this bc they're not supposed to be in love yet but idk lmao#(also eddie is turning out way too open in the convo that follows this and idk how i feel about that either lol)#still stuck on one scene and it's driving me crazy that it's not done and im just moving on with the fic lol gotta get to it soon haha#also so excited to jump into this whole dynamic!! eddie trying to navigate it all and buck not knowing where he fits in aahhh
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Scarlet Blaze Ch 14
So close to completing this.
MAIN STORY
How many chapters is this game? 15, right?
Typical Caspar excited to murder. God, he's awful in this route.
Dorothea breaking the 4th wall. She says she can't deal with any more doubling back lol.
I love how they dress up "kill everyone who resists until the Empire Imperializes Fodlan" as "unite Fodlan" lamo.
Felix, Sylvain, and Dimitri discussing strategy. Seteth and Rhea joining it.
They suggest retaking the monastery. Not a bad idea. Rhea also thinks this could flip some Alliance lords.
Haha, the "bad guys" are going to kill Bernadetta's awful father.
They think by doing this, it'll inspire the faithful to unite against Edelgard's war.
Dimitri says to keep quiet to keep Empire defenses down. Dimitri suggests tricking the enemy. It's funny how the only lord that doesn't use tricks and strategy is . . . Edelgard.
Ugh, so many side battles again.
MAP/SIDE QUESTS
See, this is what's so annoying. I talked to Raphael who wants to fight Dimitri because he's so legendarily strong (this game hypes Dimitri so hard, and I am here for it). Anyways, that's not my problem. My problem is that Raphael can't wait to ask Dimitri about his training routine after the war is over. Like, I get it's Rapaheal who isn't the deepest thinker, but this attitude is everywhere - like war is no different than play fighting and like, after going to war against someone, not only will they definitely survive, but will get chatty with you about training - not.
Dorothea, Ashe, and Yuri are the only characters who seem to realize they're about to go kill innocent people, lamo.
Hubert just insulted me. Seems the right time to declare my love for him with the merc whistle, lol. He earned it doing almost all the work this playthrough. (it's even funnier bc an NPC just asked if I had a special person, and Shez picked Hubert).
Add more to Caspar being a complete psychopath in this route - he's happy his brothe failed because now he could potentially rule his family's territory and make Edelgard's vision come to life (oh, yes, how amazing, passing it from one noble male to . . . the male noble's brother, viva la revolution! /s)
Shoutout to the NPC who's pissing himself over the idea of having to fight Dimitri, Dedue, and Felix.
Add Mercedes to the list of people who realize they're going to kill other people.
Claude talking to Byleth and being like, if I had you around, I'd probably be a decent person!
I had to fight Cyril :(
SHEZ & FERDINAND A
Ferdinand is pulling a Dimitri and working until tired. Unlike Dimitri, though, Ferdinand listens.
This support is shipping Ferdibert because it's Hubert who sent Shez, and apparently worried about Ferdinand.
It was kind of short.
EDELGARD & HUBERT A
God, I hope this is better than their final Houses support.
Haha, she's asking about Byleth. Wishing she could've recruited Byleth, lamo. I bet this goes differently if you're a better gamer.
It sucks that, once again, Hubert and Edelgard's relationship is reduced to Edeleth bait rather than being about Hubert.
And so, once again, Hubert's not going to be any credit for being the Eagles' single braincell.
Wait....... did they just confirm the Crest connection between Edelgard and Byleth?
God, I would HATE it if they did that to Dimileth. Idk, there's something about magic influencing people to like each other that takes away from the romance of the relationship.
How did Edeleth fans react to this?
Oh, we're actually talking about Hubert now.
Hubert is happy with the role groomed into him. To Edelgard's credit, she wishes things would reverse sometimes.
I love how different all the lord-retainer relationships are in this game. They made 3 distinct, interesting ones. No points if you guess my favorite of them.
LINHARDT & PETRA B
These two have so little in common. Also, I'm going to need to grind to get their A.
They know what diaphragms are in Fodlan.
Petra needs help with a letter. It's written in archaic language. I forget that poor Petra only gets a language teacher ones, and it's Blue Lions locked. Dedue for the win.
It's a love letter, lamo.
I headcannon it's from Dorothea.
Welp, headcannon squashed. She says she has no knowledge of the writer, and is rife with mistakes.
Linhardt finds the letter sacrilegious, but Petra's impressed.
PETRA & HUBERT A
One of the worst pairings in Houses.
An assassin goes after Hubert, but Petra shoots her.
Hubert's annoyed bc he can't question her, but grateful.
Hubert critiques the tactics that Petra uses to save him. Only Hubert.
He's more surprised that a queen would use a tactic than thinking it's a bad one.
Hubert's hating on chivalry and knights.
Petra doesn't understand their thoughts, and Hubert tries to explain it.
"It's peace we are wishing for." Uh, no. People who start wars don't wish for peace.
Hubert admits it has its uses though. But dislikes it.
Hey, at least this wasn't a support revolving around Hubert gurdingly accepting Petra as an "inferior" Edelgard.
HUBERT & FERDINAND A
Hubert calls Ferdinand the ultimate noble, not sure if that's a compliment or not.
Ferdinand's like don't sneak up on me while I'm training, dumbass.
But then Hubert's like you could just kill me right now if you wanted too! Which, is kind of weird. And Ferdinand's like, stop being weird. agreed.
Ferdinand doesn't see his father as the man who raised him.
Hubert admits that Ferdinand's matured. Ferdinand admires Hubert's obsession with Edelgard.
Ferdinand asks to stand alongside both of them as Edelgard's two jewels of the Empire.
And Hubert laughs at him.
And then it ends.
Ok, so why is this such a big ship again?
DOROTHEA & PETRA A
Bummed they only have 1 support. This is my favorite ship for both of them.
They go on a date in the marketplace and are happy to get away from all the death they're causing.
Petra is surprised to see it so upbeat, considering the war. Dorothea says life goes on for commoners regardless of what nobles are doing, but get upset when family dies.
Petra claims in Brigid, everyone is family. Dorothea says Fodlan's not like that.
In Brigid, they fight over thrones and lovers, but not land, like in Fodlan (like in Scarlet Blaze, lamo). Dorothea wants the tea.
They get accosted by random dudes, but Petra fights them off. Dorothea helps, I think.
Does this mean women get accosted in the market in broad daylight in the Empire???
Hahaha, Dorothea tells Petra that her skin is silky smooth and asks her to feel. Sadly, Dorothea doesn't act on that.
Petra calls Dorothea important to her, and to watch out, that she'll keep Dorothea safe. Dorothea promises the same.
My shipping heart is happy with this, though the random attack was a bit odd.
PETRA & RAPHAEL A
I could have seen this already in GW, though it's unlikely?
Raphael is howling to catch a wolf, but it keeps getting louder, so he's upset. Petra disagrees that he's not getting better.
They've made a team up, where Raphael scares the animals, and Petra hides and kills them all. So they make a good team.
Raphael is acting as a hound, he's upset that he isn't a wolf.
Petra thinks Raphael would fit in in Brigid. He agrees and plans to visit.
I honestly have no idea if I've seen this before.
DOROTHEA & BERNADETTA B
This is their highest support.
Dorothea sees her talking to someone. And the little bit on screen looked a lot like Yuri? Dorothea confirms that it's a man.
Don't Bernadetta and Yuri have a history? Dorothea thinks it's romantic.
Yep, it's Yuri. Bernadetta talks about the commoner friend she had once, which is Yuri.
Dorothea thinks this is the makings of a good opera. Bernie insists it's not love; Dorothea says that's how an opera would work.
Honestly, though, Yuri and Bernie may be one of the least compatible pairings possible in this game.
I've heard about this. Yuri's support retcons Bernie's father's abuse into "protecting." Which is such bullshit. Imagine excusing abuse as "I'm protecting you." It's really gross.
Bernie thankfully gets to set it straight in this game. Saying her father didn't love or protect her, but just a valuable item that he owns. SOOOOO glad Hopes took the opportunity to fix that awful implication the Yuri-Bernie support added.
Dorothea says her father treated her mother like an item too.
So more Empire men treating women like possessions.
Even in the Kingdom and Alliance when characters feels pressured to perform (Slyvain, Ingrid, Hilda, Lorenz, etc . . .) - no one talks about it being so bad they're dehumanized. This really seems like an Empire-exclusive, sexism thing. (also notice that, without thinking, I came up with male and female examples of both the Kingdom and the Alliance).
LINHARDT & BERNADETTA C
I feel like I did a much better job unlocking Blue Lions supports than the other houses and I don't know why since I paid close attention to all of them.
Bernie is messing around and the weeds, and Linhardt asks why.
It's to avoid a man and a woman going on a secret date, according to Bernie at least. She thinks they'll get mad at her for interrupting their date. Linhardt says she's no more significant than a pebble on the road to them.
Honestly, Bernie thinking everyone will blow up at her is a self-centered, isn't it?
Lin's like, they're lost in their own little world. And gets a bit romantic for appreciating them for sharing love when they could die on the battlefield tomorrow. Bernie argues that in fiction, they'd get together. Then Lin's like, that's fiction, not reality. Then Bernie argues fiction that's more realistic. And Lin's like, yeah, those stories exist bc people relate to it. And they go a bit in a circle.
Then Lin just falls asleep right there.
FERDINAND & EDELGARD A
Ferdinand asks for some compassion from Edelgard about killing his father, but then says that's just pity and tells Edelgard to just give him the order she wants.
Edelgard says she's not here bc she wants something, she just wants his typical effort.
Ferdinand can't die here or history won't remember him well.
Edelgard then says imagine what history will say about me if I lose?
Then Ferdinand says he'll gladly die to further Edelgard's goals because her life matters more.
And because he's not from Faerghus, that's a good thing because dying for Edelgard = good, dying for Dimitri = bad. Or Edelgard can't recognize her own hypocrisy (Claude, at least, thinks "dying for Claude = bad" per his "wtf, Hilda" in CF).
I know Edelgard approves of Ferdinand's attitude (which is the EXACT SAME as Sylvain, Ingrid, etc . . .) because she says he's such a great noble she wouldn't have to get rid of them if they were like him.
So, unlike Dimitri, who hates it whenever Ashe or Ingrid or whoever says "I'll die for you in battle bc your life means more!" and tells them not too, Edelgard is like "wow, that's such a great attitude that I wouldn't even need to start a war if they all thought like you." Yet, somehow, this game wants me to think the Faerghus fighting back against this idea is worse than the Empire glorifying it, lamo (since Monica has the same attitude in her Edelgard support, which isn't portrayed as a negative).
Ferdinand argues for the existence of the nobility and the structure they build, that she can't throw it away. She says that's not her plan. (so, has she like, not even told him her plans??? What happens if she dies?? Would anyone have a single clue what her plan was???)
Then it goes back to their CF support, where he argues for education. And this game makes it obvious that it never occurred to her that poor people can't just automatically compete with nobles. That this dodo bird has killed hundreds of thousands without considering the gap between the poor and rich, lamo. Hopes is gold for confirming she never thought of this, only Ferdinand did.
I know Yuri does the same for Dimitri, but Dimitri already had the right idea of knowing the poor needed their basic needs meant before they can advance (and familiarizing himself with how they live unlike her staying in her ivory tower), and he also, you know, didn't go killing everyone who won't bow their heads to him bc he thinks his plans are so brilliant.
SHAMIR & HAPI C
Shamir is in a church. Hapi is confused, until Shamir says she's looking for some peace and quiet.
Hapi's "not the praying type" either. But she also just wanted quiet.
Shamir doesn't seem annoyed with Hapi's nickname, which is why Shamir is never annoying. She's edgy, yeah, but not in an annoying way.
She's talking about some pagan statue in the abyss. I honestly don't remember that.
Ohh, Shamir wound up in the abyss after the war. Then ran into trouble with the church. And Rhea hired her.
That pagan is actually from Dagda. One of their deities. Cool lore. It's apparently their god of fate.
They both wonder why it's there. Good question.
SHEZ & DOROTHEA A
Dorothea is singing for Shez. Who's like, yeah, it's good.
She's disappointed with the lack of response, because Shez isn't very cultural lol.
He says it made him warm, like his mother growing up. So he actually does get it because Dorothea was singing a lullaby.
It's a lost song though, and Dorothea doesn't know the words (only sang lalala, you cowards, give us lyrics like Annette gets!) But the song got researched and her melody is a guess.
Shez tells Dorothea that her voice touches people even if they don't understand high-art, like himself.
Dorothea lost her passion while working while singing, but she's getting her passion back now, thanks in part to Shez.
Shez thinks Dorothea speaks beautifully and can reach people's hearts, and credits her training, so it wasn't worthless. Unlike Shez who can't string a sentence together.
Dorothea says that Shez isn't back with words. And that he was actually pretty smooth and flirty.
Honestly, super cute support at the end.
EDELGARD & BERNADETTA A
Edelgard lists her worries at night; Bernie walks in on her. It's one of the places Bernie goes to be alone.
Bernie asks if Edelgard is alright after hearing the list, and offers to listen, which seems a bit OOC for Bernie.
Edelgard appreciates it, but says Bernie would get tired of it.
Bernie thinks the curse eating away at her is the same as the one eating away at Edelgard. Edelgard is impressed with Bernie's insight because she guesses right.
Edelgard is upset that TWSITD is still around after thinking she's already beaten him.
Edelgard says being kind to people doesn't help people recover from pain. Consistent with her characterization, but I HATE "feminine" things like compassion are weak instead you gotta just man your way through it (bc it's toxic to your mental health) and the game mostly proves her wrong though.
HUBERT & CASPAR B
This is their only support.
Hubert gets a report that Caspar located enemies scouting the base. He attacked, no enemies survived, and he got hurt.
Hubert's questions were all hopeful that at least one survived, but because Caspar's an idiot no one should trust with command of an army, of course they're missing intel now.
Caspar brags about it to Hubert, lamo. What an idiot. Caspar's inability to read people is also not a good thing for a commander.
Hubert is unimpressed. Actually sees it as bad.
Caspar counters that Hubert is impressed with Berligtz does it, but Hubert's like "those were reinforcements, also, he's competent."
This is why Hubert is best boy in the Black Eagles. (he or Dorothea are by far my favorite Eagles)
Caspar is like well my gut said attack, so I went, not caring at all like the smartest guy in the army thinks his plot was stupid.
Hubert keeps lecturing him. Saying he'll get people killed.
Caspar's like "if you wanna make a name for yourself, you gotta risk death!"
So . . . Caspar doesn't care that he hurt the Empire's war efforts by killing spies rather than capturing them, nor that he got his men hurt by his rash actions, because he "proved himself in battle to gain status."
Caspar is just really awful in this game. Hubert, though, is gold in this support, as usual. Even when he's a dick, he's an entertaining dick (and usually supposed to be seen as wrong lol)
Caspar learned exactly 0 things in that support.
LINHARDT & CASPAR A
Caspar wakes Linhardt up, who's slept into midday.
Caspar claims he found something amazing. Linhardt is like usually you're wrong about that.
Caspar wants to show off a huge bear someone took down. Linhardt is grossed out by the gore. Caspar really has 0 ability to see any POV but his own and understand who he's talking too.
Caspar wants to hunt it. Linhardt's like, ok, then go. Lamo.
Caspar wants to fight a bare bare-handed.
Linhardt bring up when Caspar's dad took down a bare when he was younger than Caspar. Caspar still insists he'll do it, and used to drag Lin along while bear hunting. This is how he learned healing.
I think Caspar got really dumbed down in Hopes.
Lin's like, let's focus on the war, not bears, ok? Caspar at least agrees to this.
LINHARDT & EDELGARD B
Their only support.
Edelgard plays with a cat, only after making sure no one can see her. Then Linhardt walks in, and she's thrown off.
Edelgard pretends she doesn't know the cat. Lin calls her out.
Lin likes cats. I don't know why Edelgard is surprised. Lin is basically a human cat.
Edelgard likes cats because of how they help humans (get rid of rodents, etc . . .)
Lin keeps arguing that cats are awesome because they trick people into waiting on them hand and foot.
Edelgard asks if he's owned a cat. Lin's like, seriously, that's too much work.
She's being so difficult because she didn't want Lin to own the cat.
Edelgard made a funny, accusing Lin of aspiring to be a cat.
This gap moe Edelgard stuff works wayyyy better than the stuff in Houses, imo.
SHEZ & CASPAR A
Haha, Shez is like, "Oh Caspar, there you are," and Caspar assumes that he wants to practice, Shez is like, yeah, but with your dad.
This game really dunks on Caspar, everyone just talks about how much better his dad is lamo.
Caspar is like, you're too ordinary to spare with my dad.
Apparently Count Bersraser whatever his name is really hurts people when they train, and Caspar tells Shez to cancel his plans.
After the sparing, Shez is exhausted, but Shez did better than anyone else ever did.
MAIN BATTLE
I don't remember who I'm fighting this chapter.
Why does Claude get a picture in SB? Will I see it in GW too?
Waaaaiiiitttt, is Claude . . . turning against the Empire?
He's like, we only agreed to pair with Edelgard under duress and bc the other option is the Kingdom protecting Rhea - who invented racism, who is the only reason hierarchies exist, and who made Claude stub his toe this morning.
Ok, so siding with the Empire is stupid, but thinking the Alliance can fight the Empire, Kingdom, and Church is maybe the stupidest move yet, lamo.
He thinks Dimitri will "shackle us to their outdated customs" because, you know, Dimitri is all about ruling the Empire and Alliance and not improving the Kingdom at all or anything. Projection much?
This is so funny, and dumb. Not like the writing has ever cared about making Claude look like he has the intelligence to surpass a toddler in this game.
Yep, Claude turned against the Empire, lamo.
Cut scene time! They're just marching and talking about the battle.
Dimitri's here too. And Dedue's right beside him. Of course.
Claude too, and he's like "too bad we can't do something more civilized" - like, my dude, you are part of the problem.
Seteth coming in on a dragon looking badass. He's begging Flayn to retreat. But she won't. Please don't make me kill her :(
Edelgard's like "time to prove the Empire's supremacy!" and "anyone who stands in our way must be cut down!" But see, this is why I like her so much better in SB. It's just more honest and tries less to twist things around to make her into a typical princess type, instead of owning (at least a little more) the red emperor type she is.
Fuck, I have to defeat Flayn. She's healing people, not attacking, but I still have to take her out. If it was a side mission, I'd ignore it. Hubert mocks her like "is this the second coming of Saint Cethleann" - well, about that . . . .
Now Felix appeared :( It's also a main mission I can't ignore. At least it looks like he's retreating.
Only for Sylvain to show up, which isn't any better :( Fuck, he's claiming he's avenging Ingrid :(
OH FUCK. He actually died. Begging for forgiveness from Dimitri. SB is really the most bloody path :(
Dimitri sounded so upset. I really feel the like the villain. It's by far the route with the highest named character count killed (Rodrigue, Ingrid, Annette, Gilbert, Sylvain) AND my main goal is to kill Flayn because she's . . . healing people.
At least Flayn retreats. She makes Seteth promise to do the same :( (If I have to kill Seteth too, I swear to GOD).
Please let Dedue retreat :((((((
I also have to defeat Hilda :( Sad, but not big sad.
THANK FUCK. Dedue retreated. Dimitri sounded near tears.
Now I have to defeat Seteth too :( Thank God, he retreated. I think Hilda did too?
Now I have to defeat Dimitri and Claude. I am considerably more upset about the former. I wonder if they live or die.
I'm letting the other units fight Dimitri. I'm tired of killing him. I'll go kill Claude, which doesn't upset me much.
Lamo, Edelgard was like, go back to your people! Stop protecting the church - like, as if her plan isn't to take over Faerghus regardless? Dimitri smelled her bullshit at least.
If Claude retreated, does that mean Dimitri does too?
Ok, he retreated at least. Still Sylvain :(((
Ohhhhh, Byleth the final boss? Sothis has possessed Byleth though. But he seems along for the ride bc Byleth's pissed we killed Jeralt.
Shez vs Byleth cut scene again, except unlike in AG, Byleth is Sothis possessed and Shez is Shez, but then Shez goes demon mode too.
Shez is worn down, but wins bc Byleth stops glowing, so I think Byleth dies?
NARRATION
Yep, we killed Byleth. Shez feels empty about it though. And talks about this being a horrible mistake and wishes there was another way to solve this.
Funny how he only cares about Byleth and not all the other people who died (Sylvain, and tons and tons of people).
Arval feels freed though, from an old quest, and major relief, and starts crying.
So you have to either choose between Byleth dies, but Shez and Arval are on good terms, or Byleth lives and Arval and Shez aren't happy (I think, since he took Shez over in the special chapter, but I haven't played that in AG yet).
Ok, so this battle took me 26 minutes. AG took me 4, because Dimitri is just that absurd. He kills bosses so fast. Like before the dialogue finishes. It's just so absurd.
Edelgard is worried because Rhea and the knights weren't seen (or most of them), she's also under the impression Rhea would love a battle like this, but Rhea's never seen bloodthirsty? Vengeful, but not battle loving.
The main force will proceed with occupying Galatea :((((( That small bit of dialogue - knife to my heart.
No one even mentioned Sylvain :(
xxx
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Hi! I'm so excited you're finally watching MASH! I hope you enjoy it and I selfishly hope you grow to like Margaret who starts off as not great and then becomes great and my fav.
i am having a great time!! i started at the beginning of season one and just finished season two. some of the discs in the complete series set i got as a gift last year don't play right or cut out mid-episode, which is driving me a little nuts, but i guess i'm having the classic syndicated tv experience of randomly missing stuff and always having some episode i've never seen floating out there forever.
my long form thoughts so far for those interested:
it's such a great collection of characters for comedy, because they are all pathetic and terrible in their own unique way, but are so charming and funny and easy to watch while they commit their little crimes against common sense.
i really like the mix of episodes -- the We're Having A Caper episodes and then the ones where it's like we're just kind of living here and things happen in some kind of order, but the things aren't necessarily related, which feels very appropriate for the setting.
i'm watching without the laugh track, which highlights one of my favorite things, which is that the main and background characters laugh out loud at what's happening. it gives the show such a lived-in and messy feeling. i just came off of watching the good place 5 times in a row, where the dialogue and plot are especially tightly packed, so this feels especially like it has a lot of just hanging out.
i keep thinking about how i'm watching this show fifty years later, not knowing what is the 70s lampooning itself, what is the 70s lampooning the 50s, and what is actually being played straight but i assume is a joke because of my perspective. some scenes are hard to watch on purpose and some are hard to watch by accident.
i wish i were watching it with my dad so he could keep pausing it to explain things to me, even if they don't need explaining, because i think that would add to the experience.
character feelings after two seasons:
hawkeye: alan alda being so charming and having such great timing really makes this an easy get. of course i'm going to love him equally in both success and failure (mostly failure).
trapper: my bestie!!! there's something about his face that makes me feel like i know him personally. i just love his physical acting choices. it's always funny. my fave i think.
margaret: i definitely enjoy her!!! how can you not?? they introduce her as being both highly capable and The Sexiest American Woman In Korea, who either can have or has had every high ranking officer in the army, and then she's soooo horny for the most pathetic man alive that she can't function.
frank: the narrative requires him to suck sooooo much every minute of every episode, because everyone else also sucks, so he really needs to put his back into it. he's gotta be there and he does it well, idk what more to say.
henry: he fascinated me in season one because i was like... clearly he's supposed to be A Caricature, but i couldn't figure out which one, and then he turned out to be A Character instead. i love his complexity and his serious moments, but i don't tend to find drunk acting that funny, so a lot of his shtick is lost on me. i wonder if he's the only character (and maybe klinger?) where the laugh track would actually serve him.
radar: as a former assistant yeah bro i get it, you keep on keeping on.
father mulcahey: the only one who is not terrible at all so far even once. Protect Him. i am so happy every time he comes on screen.
klinger: i'm still warming up to him as a character since he's mostly a sight gag still.
the parade of nurses: i have decided to take it at face value that 1) they are all here at war because they're super horny, 2) they are playing hard to get for fun, and 3) the pill was somehow invented before 1950, and under those conditions GET IT GIRLSSSSS.
my largest outstanding question: were they all actually functioning people before the war? i assume war did this to them but it's also possible they were like this before and their wives are all like THANK GOD they're overseas cheating on me because imagine how much worse it would be if they were like this but in my house.
on to season three!!!
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wait, so are you sure fuuta’s victim was murdered directly? i know the thing with the shoes, but all of the other deaths aside from kazui, mahiru, and fuuta’s victims have a clear cause of death, where you can see the murderers actively committing the murder. in fuuta’s, he’s just holding es’s shirt and yelling at them. i thought they just didn’t have their shoes off there to represent how fuuta is a step removed from the death and never actually saw the body, unlike mahiru and kazui, who both saw the body of the victims. since fuuta harassed her online, it’s represented by him yelling at them. the shoe isn’t off because fuuta never actually witnessed the suicide or its aftermath for himself, he just read that it happened, i thought? (not outright disagreeing with you btw; i’m not convinced that fuuta’s victim committed suicide but i can’t figure out how it would work if she was directly killed by fuuta, since the videos show him and his fellow “heroes” ganging up on the “big bad evil guy”, and then in backdraft there’s the whole petrification by spray paint thing. is your theory that his online harassment led to someone else killing her? i like your ideas, by the way, they’re really interesting!)
I'm still pretty convinced Fuuta's victim was murdered, but I've never believed Fuuta was the one to do it! I think it's shown as Fuuta shouting her to death because that's all Fuuta did in reference to her murder, and without Fuuta doing the initial callout, she wouldn't have been murdered by someone else to begin with.
As for who did kill her, I'm not entirely sure! I have like 2 theories, but none of them really have any proof beyond me looking at some of the scenes and thinking "that's a weird detail for them to add"
^ these are the 3 cyberbully victims in Backdraft. They all start the same way, Fuuta makes an inital mark, 4 others come along and then more people attack later on that we never see. Except, with Killcheroy, there's a 5th person in the second attack, the green one. They're also the only person who covers the graffiti name, something that everyone has avoided doing up to this point. We see a little later on that it's not completely covered up, but still, it's a weird detail for them to add. The second a new person joins their group, it all goes wrong... interesting. Since they're new here, and we know Killcheroy was doxxed, I wonder if they thought it'd be a good idea to find her in person to teach her a lesson, and (accidentally or not) killed her?
There's a good chance that Fuuta doesn't actually know who this mystery person is. They're not shown in the final group (all these people have been here since the Gretchbia attack), and Fuuta never sees who does the killing blow on Killcheroy, turning away right before her health bar drops all the way.
Another idea is that it could be the guy to the right of Fuuta in these scenes ^ not much to say on this, and it does go against everything I just said, but when they're all blacked out after Killcheroy's death, that guy is still shown smiling. It's kinda hard to see, but it is very much still there. Everyone else stopped smiling, why is he still happy after she died... sus 🤨
#milgram#fuuta kajiyama#thanks for the ask!#ty for the kind words :))#i dont rlly have much to say on her shoes being on because fuuta didnt see her die directly#ig it works? it feels like a weird technicality for them to add... its not like her cause of death changed because it wasn't directly seen#i know theres a bunch of theory posts involving the guy next to fuuta in Bring It On but... i forgor💀 them all srry :3
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Hey, everyone! Lol, it's been a ride. Thank you to everyone who's reached out to me via DM or anon offering kind words - I've since discovered that this account has stolen a further two works of mine and attempted to pass it off as their own. I can only assume they're trolling, or are a minor, or both! Super disappointing. Your messages have been super lovely and I'm so grateful for the outpour of support from our community of readers and writers alike.
It sucked at first, but now I'm more or less convinced it's a troll of some sort. It's hard to be genuinely angry at something so astoundingly low-effort. This individual didn't even TRY to make it their own work; I might have respected them a little more if they did.
I agree, nonnies. Most likely, it's the same person who decided to copy @osferthsbussy not long ago. Guess we in the same boat now, lol. We're #famoose, haha! But for real, WHY?? What is the value-add of this behaviour? I'm so, SO confused.
If you're a new fanfiction writer, I'd be happy to beta for you. There's no need to go around stealing my work. And there's CERTAINLY no need to go forth and send me gross anons:
Of course, I can only assume this is the individual in question. I'll be turning off anons for the next couple days, I think - just because this isn't the nicest thing to wake up to, lol.
To said individual: please, please accept that you have done the wrong thing here - in BOTH cases, if you are the same person who's plagiarised from the House of the Dragon fandom before. I've given you as much grace as possible; I won't be giving you any more.
Finally, I want to thank these people for going hard on my behalf. I'm so grateful to be in a community with all you lovely folks:
@shruie @beaconofthehightower @bottlesandbarricades @ewanmitchellcrumbs @crownedtargaryen @anditsmywholeheart @valeskafics @hotdapologist @exitpursuedbyavulcan @its-actually-minicika @evisnotok @annoying-leftist-donkey @inlovewithhisblueeyes @osferthsbussy @oneeyedvisenya @blackdreamspeaks @flower-cage @reflection-of-narcissus @alicentive @themotherofhorses @foxee-writes @kays-current-obsession
I'm positive I'm forgetting some people, but please know that I'm so so thankful to you all for going to bat on my behalf. You're all amazing, each and every one of you.
Well. Let's see how this pans out, shall we? Lol, this is the dumbest thing I've seen in a while, which is saying something. I'm going to go do things that are in my power to control, like writing. This bully (lol I'll use their word against them) isn't taking me down - I'M NOT GOING NOWHERE, BEETCHES!
Love ya all!
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51 Steddie? 🥺
Hi pal! I love this request and thank you so very much for sending it. I thought long and hard about whether I wanted to be angsty or light, so I hope you like where I ended up @corrodedbisexual! Happy reading :)
51. “I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking.”
There's a lot of tension in the room. Eddie feels the weight of it as he walks in to find Steve and Robin facing each other. Unlike most days, the two of them seem upset and completely off beat. Despite not always appreciating the near telepathic link that exists between the two friends, Eddie dislikes this even more.
He's a second away from saying something, attempting to break up the weirdness with a corny joke or unsolicited D&D antidote when Robin eventually barrels through the silence as she walks out the door.
"This isn't over, Steve. Tell him, or I will."
The words are sharp and delivered with a tone Eddie has never heard Robin use before. Robin is full of life and sarcastic to boot - her insults are usually cleverly disguised, wrapped nicely in a joke or witty antidote. That inherent niceness isn't present in the threatening phrase that lingers.
"Are you okay?" Eddie asks, turning to an eerily quiet Steve. What he sees standing there isn't the gorgeous boy Eddie's been slowly falling in love with. Steve is a shell, a husk of someone who's rung out to dry and completely done in.
Unable to stop himself, Eddie starts in Steve's direction. His steps, however, must kickstart Steve into gear. He comes back online with a choked out gasp that quickly turns into a resolute sigh. Though Robin is gone, Eddie still feels the heaviness in the air around him. It makes him stop in his tracks despite wanting to bring Steve comfort.
"Robin's right," Steve eventually says, running an errant hand through his hair. For the last few minutes, his eyes were on the floor - now, they're looking in Eddie's direction unblinkingly.
"Do you ever feel like something inside of you is too big?" The question is barely out of Steve's mouth before he continues. "There's like - this part of me, Eddie. This piece that I've been struggling with for ages. I think it's finally grown to a size and capacity that I can't handle anymore and I don't know what to do. I'm - "
Eddie can't take the sadness of Steve's voice, it's too much. He cuts in with a loud "yes" that seems to echo around the room. Though it's an awkward thing to do, Eddie is rewarded with Steve's silence. That, at least, is better than heartache.
"I know exactly what you mean. It's feelings for me. I never know what to do with them or how to get them out. They take me over sometimes, like they're controlling me, or something." Eddie wants to add more but he can only share so much without giving himself away. "What is it, Steve? What's wrong?"
For a second, the question hangs in the air. Steve is quiet and Eddie waits, counting each of their perfectly timed breaths. Though, when Steve eventually speaks, Eddie suddenly loses count.
"I see the way you look at me when you think I'm not looking." Steve with each word spoken, doesn't stutter or fumble. There's no mistaking the meaning, either - Steve's accusation is very clear.
Yet, it's almost a relief, to finally have the huge elephant in the room out in the open. He's glad for just a moment before Eddie realizes that heated conversation he walked into was about him. Whatever Steve needs to say, good or bad... is to him.
That feeling of a light and empty chest is quickly washed away then. After gauging the chilly temperature in the room a few minutes ago, Eddie is certain nothing good is going to come out of Steve's mouth. If his crush were reciprocated, why would the two very best of friends be mad at each other over it?
Before his thoughts can spiral any further, Eddie is brought out of the cyclone of worry by a soft touch against his shoulder.
"I don't hate it, Eddie. Quite the opposite, actually. Robin's been trying to get me to tell you how I feel for ages. They eat me up, too. My feelings, I mean." Steve is smiling now, his somber attitude dissipating as fast as it set in. "Kind of seems like they don't have to anymore, though. Why were you looking at me like that, Eddie?"
It's so easy to blurt out the answer then, to finally speak his truth. "Because I love you. Fuck, I've been in love with you since eighth grade. A vision of you, at least. These last few months, learning the real you, understanding who you are - my feelings have only grown. I can't help but stare, Steve. You're all I can think about."
Steve's eyes soften seconds before there is no space between them any longer. There seems to be some moisture collecting at the edges of those hazel orbs but Eddie can't take in that tiny detail - Steve is kissing him, taking his attention and holding onto it with every forward press of lip against lip.
One day, when they're both feeling vulnerable, Eddie thinks he'll revisit the topic.
Until then, he's plenty happy to lean into Steve's embrace and dream about forever.
These prompts are so fun! Want to send me more?
#steddie#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve harrington/eddie munson#corrodedbisexual#bobbie writes#drabble things#'i see how you look at me when you think i'm not looking'
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Tea Eggs!!
You know what I haven't written in a while? A cooking/food post! Someone asked me something on Twitter which got me thinking and I figured I'd finally write about making food again, so I'm pretty happy to have something to post on here again.
Immediately at the start of writing this I understand why recipes come with a background story, because cooking IS personal and at least, since I'm not a recipe blog, what investment do you really have in this if I'm not saying something about it? But I'll put the extraneous details after the recipe. This is far from a formal recipe and just a musing of what I did. I mostly did it to taste but these are some approximate measurements:
6-8 eggs
4 cups of water
4 bags black tea
3 tablespoons dark soy sauce
2 tablespoons regular soy sauce
1 tablespoon sugar
4 teaspoons salt
2 teaspoons Shaoxing wine
1 teaspoon five spice powder
Important to note: Make as many eggs as you want as long as it'll all fit in the marinade you make - it's gotta cover all of the eggs, no peekin' out. If you need less marinade, i.e. you're putting it in a tight ziplock bag, feel free to halve or otherwise divide the ingredients to fit.
Make the marinade in a saucepan with all the ingredients besides eggs. I started boiling the water and put the ingredients in one by one. I cut open the tea bags and dumped it all in. The five spice powder is out of convenience - if you look up all the spices included in it, like sichuan peppercorn and star anise and cinnamon etc., and have all of those on hand, you can use those as well, but this is a simple recipe for a simple person.
After mixed and boiling, let it cool off to the side.
Soft boil eggs in another pot, put them in an ice bath afterwards or run them under cold water for a few minutes, whatever your jam is.
Gently (GENTLY!!) use the back of a spoon or something to crack the eggshells while leaving them on, but not break through too much of the egg. The marinade is pretty strong so you could theoretically just completely peel them and soak them for a shorter amount of time, but I like to make them traditionally.
Put the eggs into the marinade and simmer/warm them for like, an hour. After that, let the marinade cool down again, cover it, and refrigerate it for up to 24 hours. That's it!
*Notes*
The dark soy sauce is mostly for the marbling/color of it. If you want a darker marbling, you can add more and reduce the salt. Like I mentioned, I did a lot of it kind of by vibes, so I added in a little more soy sauce and salt myself.
I had a test egg after I simmered them for an hour. Simmer? Warm? As long as it's not boiling, you don't actually want to thoroughly cook the eggs unless you're okay with super overboiled eggs. Tasted good, but did taste so much better after soaking for a day. I note soft boiled above because when you simmer them they do cook a bit again, and traditionally it is hard-boiled, but if you want them not overboiled you should do the soft boil initially.
As seen in the picture above, I marinated it in a saucepan overnight and put some clingwrap over it. My first attempt I only made 3 eggs, and they fit in a mason jar so I just put it all in a mason jar and used maybe half of that recipe above. If you don't want a big ole saucepan, you can also put the marinade in a big ziplock bag that'll stay securely tight. As long as the marinade is covering ALL of the egg!
This is what I mean by marbling! OBVIOUSLY these pictures aren't great (I have never claimed to be a photographer) but this is just to show what the end result should look like. Sometimes the marbling doesn't really come through but it still tastes nice!
I grew up with tea eggs always at the grocery store and able to grab 'em any time I wanted. They were usually always warmed in a crock pot as you grabbed them with tongs, but since I'm not running a crock pot for days as I finish eating them all I have them cold and they're still glorious. You can honestly marinade them 8-24 hours or so, I just like marinading for longer so the color really comes through and for more of the taste to soak in. Marinade them too long and I think they'll get too salty. It's a great subtle flavor, and you can reuse the marinade for another batch if you're making more in a short amount of time (refresh ingredients a lil that may have evaporated) or I know you can theoretically cook meat and vegetables in that marinade so you'll have something tasty from it.
I'm (AS USUAL, everyone moans) having culture feels and been wanting to cook more as a result. Most of it has manifested in veggie soup or varying noodle dishes, but tea eggs are near and dear to my heart and honestly I am so glad they were easier to make than I thought. I have a lot of weird vibes and euughh, trauma 🙄 over being in the kitchen just due to weird family stuff I grew up with so cooking is a real chore for me. Ultimately this uses two small pots (saucepans? pots? whatever they're called) and a tablespoon so the dishes to clean afterwards is minimal.
I really like the tea eggs and I really like that I can make them now, and I wanted to share that. I will probably fixate on them for a hot second! They've got such a nice flavor and my whole apartment smells good after. Let me know if you make any! Thanks for reading.
#Ari cooks#tea eggs#I also realize when I write these posts I refer back to them so it's helpful for me to write down the process as well#I was trying to find my chili noodles recipe a few months ago and I did!!#Ari adventures#I hope you enjoyed the zoomed in low-res photos of my fingers
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