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[inotakumagf]

look out for the little guy

✶ jason todd x gn!reader

word count ✺ 6.8k

summary ✺ there are three times you’ve gotten yourself into trouble, and one time that Red Hood is late.

warning ✺ blood, death, murder, corruption, etc etc in a level that is appropriate for Gotham. Jason is in vigilante limbo here. soooo angst heavy, you might hate me. there’s hurt/no comfort & character death so proceed with caution. also Gotham is in NJ i will die on this hill

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Your mother always tells you that your nose will lead you right into trouble. You’ve always been too curious as a kid, and that hasn't changed at all as you got older. It’s worse, even, because you’re a journalist in Gotham of all places. There’s always trouble brewing just under the skin of this city, and the corruption, the evil…it all drives you crazy. Every rich asshole in this city has their teeth dug into some drug ring or money laundering scheme or world-ending villain plot. And it's personal, because one of those rich assholes is the reason why your family fell apart. 

They’d wanted to bulldoze the apartment that you grew up in to turn it into some million dollar project and your mother had been adamant that you stay put. Rich people don’t like taking no for an answer, and they’d made it their mission to tear your family to shreds, like you were ants under their gold-plated boots. No one cared, no one ever stepped in to bring justice to your family, because the corruption ran so deep. It pushed you to journalism, so that you could document and show people the truth. It’s not your fault that the stories you were chasing went from regular corrupt assholes to superpowered and Arkham-worthy ones.

Like the story you're pursuing now, about the uptake in missing person reports across Gotham. The pattern of the kidnappings has been…weird, and—as your contact at GCPD was hesitant to reveal to you—it’s left the detectives stumped. But you’d been studying the disappearances and the victimology, and you think you’ve tracked a lead. Really, it only took a bit of effort—effort that the GCPD can’t bother to spare. Rather than hand this information over to the very incompetent and lazy police department, you’d decided that you were just going to find out what was happening to these people on your own. 

An evident similarity between all of the kidnappings is that each missing person had reportedly last been seen on fairgrounds or in parks, and you’d found similar missing reports out-of-state. In your research you’ve discovered a travelling circus group that had very conveniently travelled and performed at these locations, and it explains the pattern in which these people are going missing. And the circus leads right back to Gotham, because all things do. The Circus of Strange is very illusive on Google, but you’d found one name in association with the group. The owner of the circus, Lazlo Valentin, owns a boarded up beauty parlor right in Gotham, and—against your better judgement—you’re going to do some sleuthing.

You stare up at the sign that’s falling apart, that claims that this building is the Pretty Dolls Parlor. You take an unconscious step back. This building looks like it walked right out of an R. L. Stine book, and you’re starting to regret your “run in now, ask questions later” mentality.

“You look lost.”

You jump, fumbling with the pepper spray in your coat pocket. “Get back, or I swear I’ll…oh. It's you.”

Red Hood is a terrifying sight, and you should be more scared, but he’s kind of reformed? Maybe? It’s shaky territory, but between the creepy building and an anti-hero/vigilante/Bat-associate, you’d prefer to stay on his good side. 

“You sound very excited to see me,” he says in a deadpan. “Is there a reason we’re standing outside Stephen King’s wet dream, orrrr…?”

You straighten your back out. “Actually, I’ve been tracking the missing persons case that the GCPD has been neglecting, and I think it has something to do with this building. Lazlo Valentin…does that name mean anything to you?”

“Might,” he says. “How did you connect him to those missing people?”

You explain your theory to him, and to his credit he listens to your whole spiel, even though you’re totally rambling. When you’re done, you spread your hands out to the still-very-creepy building. “Ta-da! That brought me here. You know what, your timing is actually perfect, ‘cause this place is really freaking me out.”

He huffs and steps forward towards the building. “That’s great. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a deranged scientist to stop.”

He gets up to the entrance before he notices that you’re trailing behind him. “What are you doing?”

You give him a side-eye. “I’m coming with you.”

He turns so that he’s facing you head-on. “Uh, no the fuck you’re not. Look, I don’t know if you’re looking for a thrill or if you think you’re Sherlock Holmes, but you are most definitely not coming with me.”

You frown. “I’m a journalist at the Gazette, and this is my story. Everyone thinks I’m making this up, but if you’re here then that means this is real. I want to help.”

He sighs. “You can help without putting yourself in danger.”

“But I need to know what happened to those people. If I walk away now, I’ll never find out. Please, I’ll be so quiet, you won’t even know I’m with you.”

“Not happening. But,” he says over your sounds of protest, “if you give me your contact information, I’ll give you my report of events. How does that sound?”

You want to argue, but that actually sounds like a good deal. You get your story and you don’t have to go into the creepy building? “Deal. Here.”

You dig through your wallet and pull out one of your business cards. “This is my email. And I swear your source will stay anonymous. Scout’s honor.”

He nods in appreciation and pulls off the wood plank that keeps the door boarded up. “You should head home now. Oh, and before you go…”

“Yeah?” You ask.

“Stay out of trouble.”

You grin and give him a two-fingered salute. “No promises, but I’ll try.”

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You do try to hold yourself to his request. Especially because the report that he’d emailed you had been flawless, and it had gotten you a stand-out story. Terrible for all the people that had been turned into Valentin’s deformed puppets, but at least it got the GCPD to get up and do something. Although it had really been Red Hood that brought him in to Arkham. So, how else do you thank a vigilante that you’ll never see again, other than ensure that you never have to bump into him while following a sketchy lead?

Well. 

You swear you did try. But sometimes...life happens. It’s not like you were trying to get caught in the middle of a robbery.

You were minding your business grabbing some crappy late night “dinner” from your favorite bodega, when some guy decided that this was a great time and place to interrupt your very precious schedule to rob the store at gunpoint. You’re tucked behind in the candy aisle as this is all going on, and you can probably sneak right out the back if you had a pinch of self-preservation. But this is your favorite store on this side of Gotham,, and you'd feel really bad if you just left Angel to fend off the robber by himself when he always turns a blind eye if you're a few cents short.

You sneak up behind the guy as Angel is emptying the register into a pillowcase for him. “So…are you expecting me to roll all these coins? Because it'll take forever if I do. And this has already made my day ten times worse.”

The guy is getting impatient. “I don’t care, just put the money in the damn bag.”

You can hear Angel grumble his complaints as he complies, and that’s the distraction you need to tip toe behind the robber. Once you’re close enough, you jump onto his back. You take advantage of the loose grip he has on the gun to smack it away. It clatters as it lands somewhere near the entrance. The guy turns, trying to knock you off. Aside from getting the gun away from him, you hadn’t really thought this far. He almost knocks you off balance, and you have to tighten your arms around his neck. You kick and bite and scratch where you can, screaming up a storm. 

You and the robber tumble to the ground as he loses his balance, and you roll around so that he’s face down and you’re sitting right in the middle of his back, facing Angel at the counter. He tries to push you off, but you’ve finally pulled out your pepper spray, so you give him a taste of it to placate him. You huff and puff, trying not to look as much of a mess as you feel. Angel is already on the line with 9-1-1, and he shakes his head as you stare up at him. 

“Man, you’re fucking crazy. You sure you’re not one of those circus freaks that are always swingin’ around this city?”

You laugh. “If I was, I think that would have looked a lot cooler.”

The bell rings as the front door is pushed open. You can hear heavy boots stomping your way. 

“Wow. GCPD actually showed up to an emergency, and we didn’t have to wait an hour. Got any lottery tickets for me, Angel?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” a strangely familiar voice says.

You turn your head. Of all the vigilantes to intercept this call on the police radio, it had to be Red Hood. Goodbye to that lottery ticket.

“Oh. Hey,” you try for a casual greeting. Maybe he’s forgotten about you.

“Was I talking to the air when I told you to stay out of trouble? Or are you crazy?” He walks around so that he’s right in front of you. He disarms the robber’s gun and tucks it away in a quick movement. He crosses his arms, and even though you can’t see his face, you know he’s disappointed in you.

“That is not fair, man. I didn’t ask the universe to put me right in the middle of a robbery. Do you think I do this to myself for fun?” You’re still sitting on top of a pepper sprayed robber, so you don’t exactly sound sane right now. 

He extends a hand down to you, and you take it. You let him pull you off the guy, and Red Hood is quick to handcuff his arms behind his back, leaving him on the ground to groan and moan about your roughness. 

You peer up at Red Hood. “Look, I wasn’t just gonna sit back and let him rob the place. Also, he was taking change. Do you know how stupid that is? I really don’t think he was going to do serious damage.”

You don’t wait for his response, grabbing the microwave dinner, the can of Arizona, and a few snacks that you had left on the ground and placing them on the counter for Angel to ring up. You drop a few crumpled bills on the counter to pay, but before you can grab your things and head out, Angel stops you.

“You’re short a dollar seventy-five.”

You look down at the counter and wince. “C’mon, Angel, cut me some slack here. I just saved your ass.”

He snorts. “You call that saving? You looked like a cat getting sprayed with water. Besides, I’m already gonna be on thin ice from this, I don’t need to give my boss any other reason to nag me. Sorry, kid.”

You groan and dig through your bag for some more change. You grin when you find a handful of quarters in a pocket, but a very muscled arm reaches in front of you as Red Hood places a folded 5 dollar bill on the counter.

You open your mouth to thank him, but he grabs the plastic bag that Angel has placed your things in and guides you out of the bodega. 

“It was nice knowing you, kid,” Angel calls out as you leave. Very funny.

“It doesn’t matter if you thought he wasn’t gonna hurt you. You can’t throw yourself into danger based on what you think someone will do. Especially not in Gotham.”

He hands you the plastic bag, and you take it hesitantly. “Isn’t that hypocritical, though? You jump into trouble all the time.”

He shakes his head. “I’m trained, and I know what I’m getting into. You either have a death wish, or you think none of this can touch you.”

“I…,” you trail off, not sure what he wants you to say. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t exactly have a lot of time to wait for the GCPD to do something. I just knew that if I didn’t do anything, it would be my fault if Angel got hurt.”

Red Hood’s shoulders drop, and he lets out a soft sigh. “It’s not your fault when people like that do what they do. Just…don’t put yourself on the line like that. That’s what I’m here for.”

You laugh. “Well, you can’t exactly be everywhere, can you?”

“You never know. C’mon, let me take you home.”

You let out a low whistle. “Woah, how ‘bout you buy me a drink first?”

But you tell him your address anyways, and he walks with you the whole way back. You spare glances at him every now and then, straightening your head forward when he catches your eye.

“So,” you start, unable to stand the silence, “why do you do this? I can’t imagine it pays well to run around in spandex.”

He snorts. “First of all, I don’t wear spandex, I’m not a freak. I’m…I’m not the kind of person you think I am.”

You roll your eyes. “This is where you tell me you’re a dark soul and you hurt everything you touch. I’ve had enough ex-boyfriends, I don’t need that speech from you too.”

“This isn’t a joke. I’m not a good person. I don’t do this because I think I can change Gotham. Everything I do is out of anger and spite.”

You shrug off his words. “Well, yeah, I did report on your…debut as Red Hood. It was pretty fucked up. But I also wrote about your impact on Crime Alley. I’ve interviewed people that live there and in other parts of Gotham that rich assholes won’t go near. Whether you like it or not, people do look up to you. We—they see you as a symbol.”

Red Hood stares at you, shaking his head. “A symbol of what? That murder is always the answer?”

“That we can—should fight back. Maybe not to such extremes, but you’ve shown us that we don’t have to roll over and beg when rich men tell us to. I think that counts for something.”

“I don’t know if you're the best judge of character, trouble. Not if you think there’s any good in me.”

Your face scrunches up. “Trouble?”

He laughs. “That’s what you are. I think it's a fitting name.”

You grumble, but you can’t exactly argue against his point. You get to your apartment building then, and you turn to Red Hood one last time. “Thank you for walking me home. I’ll try not to run into any burning buildings or chase after cats in trees.”

He nods in approval. “That’s a good start. Let me see your phone.”

You comply, and he spends a few minutes on it before handing it back. “I added a number you can reach me at. It's a secure line, but if you share it with anyone I will know.”

“Oh, you like me so much you had to give me your number, huh?”

He rolls his eyes at your teasing tone. “If you think you’re about to do something stupid that I’ll yell at you for, just call or send me a text, and I’ll handle it, okay?”

You blink up at him. His shoulders are tense, and you get the feeling that he’s being very vulnerable right now. “Thank you. I’ll be sure not to abuse it.”

You scurry off into your apartment building, clutching your phone like a lifeline.

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A part of you hopes that you never have to contact him, but this is Gotham and you’re a journalist. Without intending to, you sniff out trouble like a bloodhound. You keep your messages to Red Hood as professional and concise as possible, laying out just the most basic information so that he doesn’t get annoyed with you. And you know he takes everything you say seriously, because you either write or hear about his activities all the time. 

It makes you happy to know that he takes your words and your concerns seriously. You haven’t had a lot of that all your life. 

Over time, your messages to Red Hood allow yourself to get more casual with how you message Red Hood, and as the months go by, you get to know him a bit better. His favorite book is Pride and Prejudice, though Frankenstein is a close second. He grew up in Gotham, and he’s spent almost all his life here. And the most surprising thing you’ve learned is that he likes to cook. You’d learned that accidentally. 

The first time he’d returned to your apartment since your initial meeting, he was injured and he’d hesitantly asked if you could help patch him up. After making sure he wasn’t going to die on you, you were reluctant to say goodbye. You’d just finished making your first actual meal all week, and you invited him to join you. You hadn’t expected him to say yes, but you’re glad he did. Because now, he stops by to make dinner with you every now and then. He still occasionally stops by for the purpose of getting your subpar medical attention, but most of his visits are specifically so that he can hang out with you. Red Hood might deny it, but the two of you are friends now.

You tell yourself that you’re friends, at least, because sometimes you don’t think you can chalk up how you feel about him as platonic. You stare at him far longer than is polite, but he doesn’t ever make fun of you when he catches your eye. And sometimes, he sits or stands so close that you think he might lean a little bit closer, before he realizes your proximity and pulls back.

You never thought you’d ever be close to one of Gotham’s vigilantes, least of all Red Hood. But despite all of his self-loathing, you see the sweetness that he hides under all that gruffness. He cares so much about this city, and it kind of scares you to see how much of his heart is laid out so plainly. To you, his anger and violence are evidence of how much he cares.

It makes you feel more guilty for what you’re about to do. You can’t get his face out of your head as you research and plan your current story.

You’ve heard chatter about something that the power-hungry billionaire Max Shreck is planning. It’s been very tight-lipped, especially to someone like you who is so far removed from what concerns Gotham’s elite. But you’re good at blending into backgrounds unnoticed, and billionaires sure get talkative at all the galas and charity events they attend. It sounds exactly like the kind of scheme that Red Hood would tell you to stay away from. If you bothered to tell him the hole you were digging yourself into. 

You should tell him what you’ve heard—that Shreck is working with the Penguin to drain Gotham dry. You don’t know enough about what they’re planning, but you know it will hurt regular Gothamites the most before it touches the rich parts of this city. And Red Hood would definitely take your concern seriously if you told me. But he would never in a million years let you be involved, and you won’t be able to walk away from this without doing something to help. People like Shreck are the reason why your childhood was so unstable, and you don’t want to stand by and let it happen again. 

Shreck visits the Iceberg Lounge every Thursday evening, and tonight is as perfect an opportunity as ever. Red Hood is busy dealing with an outburst from Condiment King, so you’re not worried about getting caught. 

The queue to get into the Lounge is long, and by the time you get to the front, your shoulders are shaking anxiously. You straighten out when the bouncer gives you a look over.

“Sorry, can’t let you in tonight,” the man says dismissively.

You falter for a moment before putting on your best condescending glare. “You can’t be serious. Do you know who I am? The Valestra family supports your boss quite generously, and I would hate to weaken our ties.”

But the bouncer just shakes his head. “I understand. But there’s business to be taken care of tonight at the Lounge, and we can’t let just anyone in.”

You gasp. “Just anyone? Who do you think you are? This is utterly ridiculous, and I–”

There’s an arm around your shoulder, and it distracts you enough that your entitled rant trails off unfinished. You stare at the man that has joined your side. He looks familiar, and it takes you a moment to realize that this is Thomas Elliot, the head of one of Gotham’s richest families.

“This is my guest for the night,” he says smoothly, pulling you closer to his side and walking through the entrance. He doesn’t even wait for the bouncer to let him in, he just…does what he wants. Is it that easy for people like him?

He gives you a sideways glance and a vicious grin. “You’re a pretty little thing aren’t you? Valestra, you say? Are you one of Salvatore’s pups?”

It takes everything in you not to shrivel at his words. “Third cousin actually. Sal promised me I’d have a grand time at the Lounge, and he said I must try the drinks here. If you’ll excuse me, I want to–”

The hand at your shoulder holds you close. “No need. I’ll get us a table, and the help will bring it to us. Come.”

He all but drags you to a table with velvet-cushioned seats. You curse your terrible luck for leading you right into deep shit, again. You look around for an exit from this ego-inflated idiot, but everyone is so wrapped up in their own worlds. You can see Shreck standing on the mezzanine above, having a very intense discussion with Cobblepot himself. You look away before they can notice you. 

Elliot draps a soft hand over your own as you wait for a waiter to bring over some drinks. “So tell me, dear, do you live in Gotham?

You laugh as obnoxiously as possible. “Oh, please, I wouldn’t be caught dead living in this rat-infested city. No offense, darling. I have a penthouse in Metropolis. I’d much rather be home, but you know how it is with Sal.”

He nods absentmindedly. “Hm, yes. Valestra has always been a sentimental man hasn’t he? I can’t blame you for not wanting to stay in Gotham. It's good land, yes, but as you said the rats make it so hard to enjoy it. Always complaining about their lives as if they haven’t dirtied the streets with their crimes. It’s disgusting, what they’ve done to this city.”

Your fist clenches under the table. Your vision goes white with anger, but you let out a breath to calm yourself down. You try to laugh with him, but it comes out half-hearted. Thank god, your drinks arrive, and you immediately lift the flute to your lips.

Elliot leans forward, running his finger along the rim of his glass of whiskey. “You know, you might actually be able to move back to Gotham soon.”

You smell an opportunity. “Oh? How so?”

He glances up at the pair still talking on the mezzanine. “I shouldn’t tell you, but…Salvatore’s a friend. Shreck’s investing in a pipeline through Gotham. It’ll get us a lot of money. And all those rats?” He chuckles.

He leans in closer, a weird, sultry tone in his voice. “They’ll do what they do best, and scurry far, far away. It’ll be impossible for them to afford even an inch of this city. Gotham will go back to what it was meant to be.”

Your heart thrums. You know that Elliot’s view is very misguided, because this city could never thrive without the working class. And with Arkham so out of control nowadays, landlords couldn’t afford to raise their prices. 

Still, building a pipeline through Gotham is worrisome, especially with all the toxic waste that has already been pumped into this city by the Joker and Scarecrow. The city couldn’t survive another biohazardous disaster. You need to know more if you’re going to tell Red Hood.

“Oh, that’s a relief. So this pipeline…”

You don’t continue, because a large shadow dwarfs your figure. You don’t know if you should be relieved or worried to see Red Hood standing over your table, beefy arms crossed over his chest in intimidation.

“Hood–”

“We’re leaving. Now.” He is pissed. So, worried it is.

Elliot tries to stop him, but he doesn’t stand a chance. Red Hood nudges you out of your seat. Before Elliot can protest, he places a gloved hand between your shoulder blades and guides you through the busy room until you’re out through a side door.

You try to say something, but you can feel his seething look through his mask as he holds a hand up and jerks his head towards his bike. He tosses a helmet to you, and you climb on behind him after securing it to your head. The entire ride is silent, and you know you're in for a lecture. But your mind is still so focused on what Elliot had told you. 

Red Hood lets you brew in your thoughts until he’s led you up into your apartment.

“What,” he seethes, “the hell were you thinking. Scratch that—clearly you weren’t thinking, because you were in the Iceberg Lounge. Are you serious? Is this what you call staying out of trouble?”

You try to calm him. “Hood, come on. I was fine.”

“Fine? The Penguin was there tonight. If he knew you snuck your way in—if he knew why you were there—he wouldn’t have hesitated to kill you. And if I hadn’t been there–” he cuts himself off to shudder out a breath.

“This is my job, Hood. You can’t ask me not to follow a lead like this! The people need to know this, and if I can get it published in the Gazette–”

“No. You’re done. I tried to guide you away, but clearly you’re not going to stop. You will never stop putting yourself in danger.”

“I’m still here, aren’t I? I must be doing okay.”

He stares at you in disbelief. “And how long are you going to be okay when you’re acting like this? Do you know what they’ll do to you if you publish that story? They will find you, and they will tear you apart. I can’t lose you!”

You try to shrug off his confession. “This is my choice, Hood. You do what you do because you want to help people, and this is how I help people. You can't ask me to stop.”

He hesitates for a moment. “You’re right, I can’t ask you to stop. But I can make you, if you’re fired.”

You recoil, like he’d slapped you. “What? You can’t do that.”

He can’t even look you in the eye. “Wayne Enterprise owns the Gazette, and Bruce Wayne happens to owe me a favor. I can. But I don’t want to do that. I’m begging you to drop the story, to stop putting yourself in danger. Or I’ll be forced to make you stop. Please.”

You scoff. “Get out of my apartment.”

He calls out your name softly, taking a step closer to you. 

“Get the fuck out! Or I’ll call the police and tell them you broke in.”

“Thought you said the GCPD is useless.”

“They are, but I’m sure there are a few vigilantes who want to bring you in. You’re still a criminal.”

His hands hover before him, and he clenches his fists tight at your words. You hate to even say something like this to him, but you want him to leave, and this is the only way you can think to make him. 

He walks over to your window, pulling it open in a quick motion. Before he leaves, he turns back to you and says, “Please just tell me you’ll drop the story.”

You turn away from him to hide your tears. “I never want to see you again.”

He doesn’t say anything. When you turn back, the window is sealed shut and he's nowhere to be seen. It's like he was never here.

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GOTHAM, NJ — The Martha Foundation raises a startling 3.5 billion dollars at last week’s charity gala. Mr. Bruce Wayne, the Foundation’s primary benefactor, has spoken with the Gazette about where these funds will be invested. Notably, a large portion will be used to repair the Gotham Public Library, which was destroyed in a recent explosion that has left all of Gotham shaken. While authorities have yet to confirm the source of the explosion, rumors indicate that

You groan and backspace the entire paragraph. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Everyone knows who caused the explosion, but you can’t go around accusing people in the paper, not unless you want your head on a stick. Red Hood was right, you just can’t stop looking for trouble, can you? 

The thought of the masked man makes you lean down and press your forehead against your desk. You haven’t seen him since you kicked him out of your apartment, and you can feel the loss of his presence. You can feel the pang in your heart every time you think of him and remember how you ended things. You know you don’t have the right to, because you were the one to push him away. Still, it hurts to think of him, and you want nothing more than to see him again. Maybe you’re petty for not seeking him out, but you can’t bring yourself to call him. Next week, you promise yourself. Next week, you’ll apologize and promise not to do anything stupid ever again. 

When you spare a glance at your computer’s clock, you realize just how late it is. Your work day should have ended an hour ago, but here you are, wrapped in your thoughts. You save the scrap of a story that you’re working on and shut off the dingy computer. You’ll just work on it tomorrow. Or rather, you’ll write and rewrite it a million times over tomorrow. 

The streets of Gotham are strangely empty right now. Sure, people usually stay in when it gets dark earlier, but its especially quiet. It feels like the city is holding its breath as it waits for the ball to drop, and you don’t want to be out when that happens. After living in Gotham all your life, a person gets to know when something is undeniably wrong.

You don’t notice the men following you until you’re a few blocks away from your apartment. You knew, you knew something wasn’t right. And yet here you are, alone in Gotham at night. You ignore the sound of their fast approaching boots, staring straight ahead. But another man is walking in your direction, staring right at you. They pinch you in on either side, forcing you to stop at the lip of an alleyway. You know they’re from the Penguin. You’re sure you’ve been on his radar since Red Hood had to pull you out of the Iceberg Lounge, but also the penguin themed ski-masks kind of give it away. You hope it's not the last thing you see before you die, because that would really suck. 

You weigh your options really quickly. You wonder if you can make a quick escape. But a scan over the men surrounding you makes it clear that there is no way you can take a single step without getting shot in the back of the head.

“Hey, fellas. I’ve had a really long day, so if I could just be on my way–”

They step even closer. The man in front smiles at you with cruelty in his eyes. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice about messing with the Penguin.”

Before you can think, say, or do anything, he shoots you right in the stomach. You gasp involuntarily, as if surprised that a bullet was actually able to hurt you. It's a sharp pain that starts suddenly and then just doesn’t stop. You press your hand to your stomach, flinching at the contact your hand makes with sticky, hot blood. 

One of the men kicks the back of your ankles, sending you down to your knees. You wheeze, staring up as the man in front steps closer. 

He snorts. “Let’s see if your Big Bad Wolf can save you this time.”

You don’t want to just sit here and take this. You want to scream, kick, or curse them to hell and back. But it’s too late. They’re gone, and you’re bleeding out in an alley of Gotham.

Your brain scrambles up enough energy not to give up right away. What had the man said about a wolf? No, not any wolf—your wolf. Your Red Hood. You pull out your phone, trying to ignore how badly your hands shake. You find his contact on autopilot, heart clenching at the contact photo you have set of his brooding mask.

It rings once. You worry for a moment that Red Hood won’t answer, that he’ll ignore you like you did him. But he picks up after the first ring.

“Trouble?” You hate to hear the hope in his voice. You hate that you’re going to rip it away from him again.

“Red,” you say, trying not to choke on your own breath, “I need you. I can’t–”

You squeeze your eyes, trying desperately to block out your fatigue. You don’t want him to notice your pain. But of course he hears it.

“I’m coming. Where are you?”

You try to remember what street you were on, but all sense of logic has slipped your mind. You sob out, “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay, I’ll find you, just hold on for me, okay?” His voice calms you, and you lean back against the wall. You vaguely register that he’s speaking again, but not to you. You can tell, because his voice is now erratic and demanding.

After a moment, his voice returns to its soothing rasp. “Okay, I have your location. I’m only a few minutes away. Can you talk to me? I need to hear your voice.”

You nod, then realize he can’t see you over the phone. “I’m sorry.”

There’s a pause on the other side before he says, “Don’t. Don’t apologize.”

“But you were right, I should have listened to you. I was too stubborn.”

“Then apologize when you see me.”

“I miss you.” The blood loss must really be getting to you, if you’re admitting something like that so easily. But you do miss him. You wasted so much time being stupid, and you regret it so much.

“I’m almost there. Please stop talking like you’re gonna die. You’re going to be fine, you hear me?” He sounds so confident, and you desperately want to believe him.

You press your head back against the brick wall behind you. A light drizzle of rain paints your face, and you shut your eyes and pretend that nothing is wrong and that you’re not scared that Red Hood won’t come.

You don’t wait long, and it feels like only a second before a gloved hand is cupping your cheek. Your eyes flutter open, and you stare into familiar, blank eyes. Red Hood is crouched down in front of you, staring right at the hole in your stomach.

You cough, which only causes you to hack up more blood. You wince as it splatters all over Red Hood’s mask.

“S-sorry,” you gasp out. You reach a shaky hand out to wipe away the blood, but you’d forgotten the small fact that your blood is already stained on your hand. You end up spreading more blood over his mask. It makes you want to cry. “Fuck. ‘M sorry.”

You pull your hand away so that you don’t make even more of a mess, but Red Hood grasps your hand in his, keeping your palm pressed against his cheek.

“Don’t you dare apologize, trouble. EMS is en route, can you just keep your eyes on me?”

You shudder out a breath, but do your best to nod. “Please don’t leave. Don’t wanna die alone.”

You can feel his grip tighten. “You’re not going to die, I’m not gonna let that happen.”

The fervor in his voice makes you smile. “You’re my favorite person, Red.”

He dips his head low for a moment. Then, he does something you never thought you’d see. He unclasps his half-mask and lays it beside him. Next goes his domino mask. You study his face, brows furrowing at the pain in his eyes.

“My name is Jason,” he says softly, and the sound of his voice without the modular voice-changer makes you shiver. How you have the time to be lovesick as you’re bleeding out, you’ll never understand.

“Jason,” you repeat, trying the name on your tongue. “Thank you. I’ll take your secret to the grave.”

Your eyes crinkle at your own terribly-timed joke, but you regret it when his face falls apart in anguish. It is worse, to be able to see him laid out before you like this.

He shudders a breath and leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’m so sorry.”

You run your palm over his smooth cheek, brushing your fingers against an oddly shaped scar that cuts into his lips. “It’s not your fault, Jason. You were right. There’s so much in my life that I wish I could change. But meeting you? I wouldn’t change that, even if it kills me. You are–”

You cough weakly. You’re so tired, and your body is begging you to shut down, to give up. But Jason asked you to stay focused on him, and you don’t want to take your eyes away from him. “You are the best thing that has happened to me.”

Tears flood your eyes. The thought of leaving Jason all alone makes your heart clench.

“Hey, sweetheart, look at me, okay?”

Your eyes readjust, finding his face back in your view. You hadn’t even noticed that your head had dropped. You feel the fight in your body drain. Your hand flails out in desperation. “Jay–”

He takes your hand in his carefully. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

When you don’t respond, he cups your cheek in his strong hand. “C’mon, talk to me. What was that book you were telling me about last month?”

He searches your eyes desperately. Your face has gone blank, and your eyes have glazed over.

“No. Sweetheart, please look at me. Please.”

He cradles your face between both of his hands before pulling you into his chest. He sobs without caring if anyone will see him like this, on his knees and hunched over your limp body. He mutters apologies into your hair, running a careful hand over your back. 

He can hear his earpiece crackle to life, and Babs starts speaking on the other line. “Red Hood? EMS is nearing your location now.”

He lays you gently against the concrete, making sure the back of your head doesn’t hit the ground harshly. He stands and retrieves his domino and half-mask shakily, making sure they’re secure before addressing Babs. “Oracle,” he gasps out. “Tell EMS it's a 10-45D. The coroner…the coroner needs to be here.”

Her keyboard stops clacking. “Ja–Red Hood? Are you…should I call in Nightwing? I’m going to–”

Jason turns his comm off. He knows she means well, but Jason cannot listen to her right now. He doesn't want anyone to see or speak to him. He just wants you. He kicks a discarded bottle of booze further down the alley, causing a pack of rats to scurry away. He screams into the air. He doesn’t care that it won’t achieve anything. 

Jason sinks to his knees beside your body. “I told you to stay out of trouble,” he says weakly.

There’s no comeback from you this time.

──────────𝜗𝜚──────────

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Because you are my partner | Jun-ho x Fem!Detective!Reader

Warnings: Takes place after the end of S1 - Some events from S2 - Does not follow canon events in order - Angst - Guns - Unspoked feelings -

The first thing Jun-ho never expected to listen when he woke up at the hospital after being shot by his brother no less were cries and insults.

Insults that were for him.

"You stubborn idiot! Why did you not tell me, why did you go alone, look at you now. Fucker if you dont wake up im killing you myself, you little-"

"I thought you would be more worried" Jun-ho said, voice hoarse since he havent drank any water in a long time. His vision was still a bit blurry, but he could locate your voice anywhere.

"You! YOU ARE ALIVE!!" You revealed your red face from crying and went to hug him, trying not to hurt him. "Never do something like that again"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Time passed, Jun-ho got demoted from detective, even when you, the second best in the division besides him, you had threated to leave as well, but In-ho insisted you not to. He knew how much you had worked for this position, he would not let you fall behind cause of him.

"Its not fair" You said one night at his aparment being a bit drunk "Yeah, what you said its kind of crazy and you have no proof but..."

"(Y/N) stop it, its pointless"

"But you would never make a lie like that. You dont like crime, you hate it. Since your brother went missing...no you would never play with something like that" You said convinced taking a big gulp of your beer.

"I think you had enough beer for tonight" Jun-ho went to take the beer can from you but you held his hand.

"I believe you, I dont care how crazy it sounds I believe you Jun-ho"

Like that, he felt less lonely.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"I think I told you this was not something you should keep doing" Jun-ho told you as you passed iced coffee to his fellow companion and him. "We are not allowed to drink when working..."

"Then take a dam breath, its summer. The streets feels like they are on fire" You told him on a stern tone taking a sip from your own drink

"Should you not be at the sitation?" He asked

"You wont believe how much criminals like to do nothing when its as hot as today. We mostly get calls at night. Nothing like, well nothing like what you are looking for" You added in a quiet voice

"I told you, I left that behind"

"Yeah sure you did, you dont give up that easily, always has been like that. Since we were at the police school. And, you cant lie to me. Im your partner, remember ?"

"Actually-"

"Shut up and drink the dam ice coffee your cheecks are red as a fruit"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

One year went on. You were assigned anothet partner but you were being a bit childish and did not like working with him.

It was not his fault, you were just so used to Jun-ho that any other person just felt....wrong.

"(Y/N) you need to stop it" Jun-ho said while you two ate some lunch

"I know, but can you blame me? I cant work well with him, he is too-"

He is not you. Thats what you wanted to say but you had to bite your tongue.

"Is he misstreating you?" Jun-ho asked getting protective, he knew you had pass for hard situations during your training just because you were a women.

He would be on your side during these moments, both when you faked feeling strong and when you needed to vent out and cry.

"No. He is...different. I just need to get used to him"

"It has been almost a year..."

"I know just- give me some more time. Also I want to meet that captain that saved you. Maybe we can go and fish together.

Jun-ho went silent after it. He was reclutant to do so, since he had been looking for the island he was in, but he had told you he had long stopped, he did not want to put you at risk.

"Maybe tomorrow..." He said in a low voice, knowing that you would kept insisting. And maybe he would be able to keep the lie.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Things have been good so far, In-ho managed to convince you to meet him and the captain at a near restaurant.

The three were drinking in just enjoying the time. Sharing stories, jokes, just having a good time.

"Thanks for saving his ass, he can be quiet a pain" You said to the older men who just smiled.

"Dont say it Lass, he still has me looking around for that dam island..."

And the good time shattered, your eyes turned cold as you looked at him.

"Is he? Please tell me more captain"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

"You told me you had stopped" You said angry at him. "Told me to stop looking into details at the deparment, do you know how much I did risk!"

"Yes! I know, thats why I told you to stop. I did not want you to put your career in danger"

"When will you understand ? You dont have to do this alone. Im your friend! Fuck we have know each other for years, if I want to help you and put my career at risk, then let me do it. Im an adult I know what im doing.

"No, I could never ask you for something like that. You know the story, these peopel are dangerous and well prepared if something would happen to you..."

"Do you think it was easy? For me? When you dissapear? There was no way on finding you, some told me to move on. But I never stopped beliving in you, knowing that you would not leave like that"

Of course not, I would never leave you.

"Listen, I understand. Really, but you cant stop me. I want to help you, and I will do so. Let me lend you a hand. Maybe this time you will catch them"

Jun-ho was conflicted, he knew having some backup would help him. But he did not want you at risk, why if you ended like him? Trapped there ? Or worse ?

But he also knew you were a hard one. Someone who once they had set their mind on something were not easy to give up. Maybe it would be better that way, making sure on having you at his side while he worked and looked for information.

"Alright, no more secrets. We will work on this together, but if something seems to be just a little bit dangerous you are out"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

And like that another year went by. Both looking to find that island and whatever information (Y/N) could get from the station.

"Most are peopel with big debts" Jun-ho said one afternoon, the cold of the winter hitting their noses leaving them red. "Maybe some have criminal record"

"Yeah but their families would have to denounce then as lost. If these peopel just vanish some would think they ran away because of their debts. I will still check on the records..."

Jun-ho nodded grateful to have her working with him.

"You dont remember any name? Or face?" (Y/N) asked him, making him stop. He did remember his brother shooting him but he could never say it out loud. "The players used numbers..." Still him mind was working like he was missing something...

And then it clicked

"Wait...I may know someone"

"Really? You can tell me their name and I will look into it"

"Seong Gi-hun, thats the name"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

"Are you sure he is here?" Jun-ho asked a faint blush on his cheecks as both of you looked up from inside the car.

"Yes, I asked a friend from another work to look up, he owns this place and has no direction of a current home. Maybe he manages the place or lives here..."

"Well, last time I saw him he did not look like someone who would manage a love hotel" Jun-ho said, voice trying to hide his nerves.

His mind wondering to things, like you. You two on a date, that would end with something more. He would be a gentlemen during all it. And he would take you to his home and do it on his bed, not a meaningless place like a love hotel.

And he would do that and more because he...

"Hey look!! That one, is not him?" You asked seeing a man getting from a car and going inside the hotel.

"It is. Stay here" Jun-ho ordered but before he could get out from the car you held his arm back.

"What? No!" You said not beliving his words "Im going in with you, we are a team, get it in that tick skull of yours"

"Listen (Y/N) I saw these games, if he is here then its because he won. He murdered peopel. He cant be trusted"

"These are just more reasons for me to go in with you" You declared, "You have my back and I have yours, thats how this relationship works"

Jun-ho looked to the side to hide his blush and recluntantly nodded "Alright..."

Unkown to them Gi-hun had been checking the cameras and had spotted their car. He held his gun not knowing who they were.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Reunions are never easy. Even less when its with peopel you dont trust.

"Who are you? Why are you following me?"

And less when guns are involved.

Maybe Jun-ho had lost his touch, his day giving out speed tickets have passed him consequences. Otherwise he would never have let himself be jumped and have a gun pressed against his head.

"Im a police officer, I just want to talk" Jun-ho said trying to ease the situation but only got Gi-hun to press the gun harder.

"How do I know you are not with them?"

"Cause we have been looking for them too" You said gun raised at Gi-hun who looked suprised for a moment but did not move. "Drop the gun Seong Gi-hun we are aiming for the same goal"

"Yeah? How can I trust any of you? Or what you said?"

"We want to stop the games too" Jun-ho said from beneath him "Thats why we have been following you, you are our only lead"

Slowly Gi-hun removed his gun and let Jun-ho get on his feet.

"I never said a thing about games..."

"Yeah...thats why we have been looking for you. Jun-ho here was in but doing kind of a double agent work. Without help"

Gi-hun had to supress a smile at your stern tone.

"Wait, you are the police who asked me about it. During that time.."

"Im, and this is (Y/N) a fellow police officer and the person I trust the most to end this"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"Train stations? A Man in a suit? Ddakji and getting slapped?" You asked while counting with your fingers the major things Gi-hun and told you and Jun-ho.

He had a big map of the stations with lots of marks and points. He was indeed looking for someone.

"Yes, I know it sounds crazy, but its like that. You get a card with a number, you call it and then you are part of the games" He said serving three coffees "It has been two years and i havent been able to find him"

"Well, now you have two more peopel to count with" You said smiling a bit "We can ignore the criminals that are working for you..."

"(Y/N)...." Jun-ho said but you cut him off.

"What? More peopel means more eyes and less space to cover. Besides its not like we have proof that they do something bad, and you know with. Without proof theres nothing you can do"

Gi-hun had departed both of you. Giving one of his many phone numbers and warning that these peopel were dangerous.

But deep down he was grateful, grateful that there was someone else out here who had seen the same.

"Dont worry, we will catch them" You shaked his hand noticing how he seemed to be sad and stressed, you could only imagine how bad things have been for him.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"What do you think?" Jun-ho asked as he drove back to your aparment.

"I think he is being honest and will accept our help. Besides no one does so much without a reason" You said having take note of his deep search for that man, the multiple guns he had and the cameras around. "He is scared too"

"Well...he does have a reason to be" Jun-ho softly said stopping outside your complex "I never asked you, why help me so much? I know we are friends but this is a big league, worse than any case you had ever seen"

Because I love you. I have been in love with you for so long. I cant seem to live knowing you put your life at risk without any help. I dont want to repeat the time when you vanish and I see my life with you in it-

"Cause you are my partner, and...I care for you" You said and left the car before he could respond to hide your blushing face

"Wait!! (Y/N)" Jun-ho screamed pulling the window down. You stopped looking over your shoulder "I- I care for you too"

He started the car leaving the window down, too nervous, he could track down dangerous criminals and be undercover for the worse criminal gangs, but confessing his feelings to you...

He was not ready, at least not yet.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

You went into your aparment, heart beating fast as you went in. The darkness welcomed you, just as you turned for the lights you hear a click.

A gun click.

"Well, you must be (Y/N)...I must admit you are more beautiful than what the photos show"

You turned around one hand ready to go for your own gun. Before you stood a man, tall dark hair, and black eyes, wearing a expensive suit.

"I recommend you to not try anything stupid. I just want to talk. And maybe we can play game"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Final note: *evil laught*

[amorchai]

𝐔𝐍𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒.

pairing(s): jake peralta x female!detective!reader

summary: it's you and jake's first case together as a couple, only for the plan to go pear-shaped.

words: 953

warnings/tags: female!reader, kidnapping ( made it as minimal as possible ), established relationship, worry.

it was very rare for the squad to see jake peralta worried. very rare. only at times where his morning bagel fell onto the floor or the street dog wasn’t waiting outside after a long shift but apart from that everyone was used to seeing goofy-carefree jake.

so when jake had ran into the precinct, wide eyed and fast paced, not one limerick falling from his lips as he almost fell into the door leading to captain holt’s office – the squad knew something was wrong.

terry followed swiftly; half-eaten yoghurt left behind to listen to the information, it was clear jake was pleading to the captain, wondering why you weren’t by his side. rosa and boyle follow his frame curiously while amy tries to lipread the captain’s responses.

one of your first cases together as a couple had gone pear-shaped. you had insisted to go in as bait – talk to the drug-ringleader and try to sneak some case-altering information. jake had argued at first, not wanting you in that position but he also advocated as a major feminist so when you said you were just as strong as a man, he immediately agreed.

however, the plan you had set out didn’t work, jake sitting at the other side of the earpiece – in the dirty van parked up front. he was unaware of the gun held to your head while the criminal wordlessly gestured for you to take out the earpiece.

when the sound muffled into white noise, jake started tapping his earpiece, “y/n? y/n!” he kept saying but there was nothing but lousy feedback. jake immediately storms the building, gun in hand and bullet-proof vest into the lonely room filled with nothing but a smashed earpiece on the ground.

which led him to the captain’s room, alerting him on the situation. “you said this was supposed to be a low-contact stake-out, why did you deem it smart to send our detective in there, unarmed, and without a squad waiting?” holt was furious, terry raising his hand to try and calm down the situation.

“we can try to track security footage, find out where they took her, captain. we only need a few hours-” jake pulls a face, “nuh-uh, i’m not waiting three hours while my girlfriend’s stuck with him.”

“look, i get it but what else can we do, peralta?” asks terry. jake looks to holt who shrugs, a hint of pure fear and disbelief in his own eyes worrying your boyfriend more than he’s ever felt.

jake sighs, “what if we check out the other location he’s known to sell? it's an abandoned warehouse just outside the city – get a squad together, storm the place to see.”

holt nods, “yes. meanwhile we’ll have a couple of detectives head down to the last place, find some cctv footage just in case it’s a dead-end. let’s get a group together now.”

there was a very quick briefing, holt assigning people jobs in order to get their detective back safely and before jake knew it he was in the back of a cop van with the same bullet-proof vest on. his mind spinning with agitation.

“hey,” jake looks to his side where rosa’s voice cuts in, “she’s gonna be fine, man. she’s a great cop.” jake nods, “i know, she’s the best, but this is all my fault i shouldn’t have let her go in herself.”

the van stops, doors opening to lead everyone outside to the abandoned warehouse. “she’s gonna be fine,” rosa reassures once more, and jake hopes to god his friend is right, jumping out of the van and catching up to the group.

holt leads, glancing into one of the broken windows before gesturing jake, terry, and amy towards the front door while the rest go round the small back space. the walkie talky that sits on amy’s vest muffles quietly, “on three.”

the moment amy says three, jake kicks the bolted door and aims his gun, “hands in the air!” a mix of voices scream into the room. several men raise their hands, one with a gun in his hand jake recognises as the leader – but all he focuses on is you.

you’re sat on a chair, you look unharmed but shaken up and jake wants to immediately run over but is forced to wait as captain holt shouts to the criminals, “put your gun down and put your hands above your head.”

you’re watching jake and jake’s watching you, small steps forward before each men are being cuffed until he sprints over towards you – meeting you in a bone-crushing hug. “i was only gone four hours,” jake admires your way to chuckle in this moment and he nuzzles his nose into your neck, holding the back of your head.

“are you alright, babe?” jake asks, pulling back to look at you properly. “yeah. the only thing he did was push me into the car but apart from that i’m okay.”

your giggle is cut off with a long kiss, jake holding your face as he desperately moves his lips against yours, mumbling a low, “i’m sorry.” you pull back, eyebrows frowning and hands shaking against his chest, “why are you sorry?”

“it’s my fault, i should never have agreed for you to go in alone. next time we are going to play it safe and-” before he can continue, you’re kissing jake again, shakily but causing him to melt anyway. you hold his hand as you’re all guided out, “maybe if i wasn’t such a good feminist…” jake trails off, eyes gazing hopeful towards you but all you do is amusingly shake your head and nudge your boyfriend, kissing his cheek as your glad to be back beside him

amorchai masterlist . taglist

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[ashenquill]

[The Watchtower. The Flash is relaxing in a common area, sprawled chaotically across a couch and munching on a high-calorie protein bar. Green Lantern approaches from the side, pushing away Flash's legs so he can flop down beside him. The Flash quickly finishes his bar, then spitefully brings his feet back up to rest on Lantern's lap.]

Hal: I’m getting real sick of Spooky giving me heart attacks, man.

Barry: What happened to being “always vigilant”?

Hal: I am! It’s not my fault he’s the scariest dude alive!

Bruce: [Appearing out of nowhere] Just be grateful you haven’t dealt with my kids.

Hal: WHAT THE F—

Barry: Your kids?

Barry: I always thought they were more…

Barry: sociable

Bruce: [gives him a tiny grin, looking something between smug and amused]

Hal: Hang on, I feel like I missed a chapter — Spooky has kids???

Barry: Keep up, Lantern

Hal: You cannot in good conscience tell me to “keep up,” you’re literally a speedster—

Barry: So, wait — if you’re not the scariest guy alive, then who is?

Bruce:

Bruce: Depends on who you ask

—————————

[Cut to an Office-style confessional with all of The Batman’s sons. Each is interviewed in a different location, and required varying levels of convincing in order to participate.]

—————————

Dick: [Upside-down, in the middle of doing a workout on gymnastics rings. He wears a thoughtful expression as he holds a handstand, making it look effortless.]

Dick: The scariest one of us?

Dick: Well, I guess… probably Tim. His morals aren’t exactly... clear.

Dick: Not to mention the fact that he literally stalked us for years as an untrained, civilian child without anyone noticing.

Dick:

Dick: Actually, I’m pretty sure he still does.

—————————

Jason: [In his apartment, arms crossed and seated on a hideously outdated couch. There is flipped and scattered furniture all around him, and he holds close a copy of Pride and Prejudice. Its cover is spattered with blood.]

Jason: You really broke in just for this shit?

Jason: Fuckin’, me, obviously.

Jason:

Jason: But, if I had to pick someone else…

Jason: [Sighs]

Jason: [mumbling] Demon Brat.

—————————

Tim: [Sitting at a large desk in his office at WE, wearing an expensive suit. His tie is loose and his eyes are dark-rimmed, and papers are stacked all around him in a messy, yet organized fashion. He was woken up from a nap for this, despite the fact that a mug of coffee is sitting to his right and several discarded energy drinks can be seen behind him.]

Tim: I mean, I don’t think any of us are particularly scary anymore. Like, we all have similar skill sets and abilities, and there are contingencies for if anyone goes rogue.

Tim: [smirking] Plus, you don’t just stalk the “world’s greatest detectives” completely unnoticed and feel intimidated by them — I know way too much for that.

Tim: [sighs] So, if we’re going by my standards? Couldn’t tell ya. But if we go by sheer intimidation-factor to outsiders, then it’s probably Jason.

Tim: Like, sure, Batman has his whole schtick, but plenty of Gotham has been around the block by now and knows he won’t kill people. But the Red Hood? He made his debut with a duffle bag of severed heads.

Tim: [shrugs] I hate to say it, but that’s pretty badass.

—————————

Damian: [Sitting in a plush chair in Wayne Manor, looking poised. The fireplace is flickering picturesquely behind him, and Titus sits faithfully at his feet. The scene is incredibly photogenic compared to the others.]

Damian: Tt. What a pointless question to ask — the entire purpose of our training is to ensure we are all equally intimidating. But I suppose I will entertain the thought.

Damian: Grayson, as the heir to Batman’s mantle, is the obvious answer. He is highly skilled in combat, deductive reasoning, and, of course, acrobatics. He is confident, competent, and a strong leader.

Damian: [grinning smugly] Of course, even if this was not the case, it would still be an easy conclusion to reach, given his competition. Drake is weak and Todd is soft, therefore giving Richard the clear advantage.

—————————

Alfred: [Calmly preparing dinner, chopping vegetables with speed and precision. He is nonchalant and does not look up as he gives his response.]

Alfred: While I would be happy to entertain the question, I am afraid if I were to answer honestly, I would have to say none of them.

Alfred: [smirking faintly] The boys are all very well-accomplished, of course — but it is my opinion that the “scariest” one in the family cannot be anyone other than Miss Cassandra.

Alfred: After all, stealth is the key to startling one’s peers, and she has mastered it thoroughly.

—————————

—alternate response from Tim—

Tim: Oh, definitely Dick, but probably not for the reason people think.

Tim: Like, sure, he started before he hit double-digits, but I figured out who Batman was at that age, so it’s not really that impressive. And, yeah; original Boy Wonder, successor to Batman, Tamer of the Demon’s Heir— all great for the resume. But the real reason he’s the scariest?

Tim: [shudders]

Tim: He went to therapy.

[little-cereal-draws]

If Ghosts had a more mature rating and was able to do more creepy ghost powers/death side effects:

Pat, Humphrey, and Thomas are eternally bleeding. Their clothes are wet, their hand gets wet from touching it, they'll leave trails of blood down the hall, etc. The blood on their hand or the floor disappears pretty quickly as their ghost powers make them reset but their clothes are always soaked

Thomas's whole stomach and the top of his pants are bloodstained. Pat's is all located on his shoulders/necktie and has the most obvious stains due to the color difference of his clothes. There are a few drops here and there down his sleeves and chest. It's pretty heavy because of the major arteries the neck that would've been punctured. Humphrey's is by fair the heaviest and is all over the front of his torso. Like the whole thing. When he died he fell face down into the growing puddle of blood that would've been pooling from his stump

Fanny can turn her head frighteningly far. There's a sick crunching sound that happens when she does this and it always sends shivers down Alison's spine even after years of hearing it. The other ghosts have joked and compared Fanny to an owl because of this and she chews them out every time

Pat coughs a lot because he's got blood stuck in his throat. He'll randomly have a huge coughing fit, cough a bunch of blood into his hand and then go "Oh no. Anyways..." He also has trouble breathing and has to take breaks to sit down during physical activities like dancing or running. It annoying but not too much of a hindrance to his daily life; it's like having asthma or allergies. The blood can make his voice sound a little weird sometimes too, like he's gurgling smth while he talks. He just clears his throat and keeps going

The plague ghosts vomit up bile every once in a while. It's black, steaming, and putrid but disappears almost instantly

Kitty also throws up when she's excited... which is a lot. She also gets chills, lightheadedness, fevers, and uncontrollable shaking. There's not much the other ghosts or Alison can do to help her besides sitting with her/trying to distract her. She'll lay down and try to breathe through it while Alison reads her a story or the Captain infodumps abt smth or Robin holds her hand. Sometimes she falls asleep, sometimes she doesn't. She's always better after a few hours tho

Fanny gets really bad migraines. Alison's theory is that they're caused by her broken vertebra. Fanny doesn't particularly care why they happen. When they happen, she's in an even worse mood than usual so it's best to steer clear of her. She doesn't have the energy to yell at ppl but will remember the slightest fault and wait until she's better to go on a lecture. Again, there's not much Alison or the other ghosts can do to help besides let her lay down and try to be quiet

Mary and Robin's skin peels off. It's white and flaky and leaves raw red spots underneath. The dead skin disappears once it leaves them but the skin underneath is never healthy and flakes off too

Both Robin and Mary smell like burning flesh but only Mary is detectable by living people. Robin only smells when he uses his powers. It really puts a lot of the ghosts off, especially newer ones

Robin's body also gets affected by his powers in other ways. If it's something small like flickering a light, his hair will stand on end. Something bigger like turning a light on/off or flickering a more powerful light will cause him to spasm. It's usually just his arms and wears off after a minute. Smth really big like redirecting that lightning bolt for Mike will be the equivalent of him actually getting hit w the lightning. His body seizes up, falls over unresponsive and twitching for several minutes, but he's always ok in the end. Alison and the other ghosts get very worried but he walks it off

Julian and the Captain both feel remnants of their heart attacks. Shortness of breath, tingling/numbness in the arms, dizziness, heart palpitations, etc. They both choose to keep it a secret from the others and cover it up but if they're particularly stressed abt smth, they'll start getting chest pains which is harder to cover up. The Captain has excused himself from many social situations to go sit on the floor and try to breathe through the pain and calm his heart. Robin's the only one who knows about Julian's because it happened once while they were hanging out. Logically, they both know they can't die again but it's still scary

Mary likes to sit in the lake because even tho she can't feel it like she would if she was alive, the cold water is soothing on her burns

All the ghosts have days where they just lay abt bc the pain is too much to move. From who does it the most to who does it the least it goes Mary, Humphrey, Pat, Fanny, Thomas, Kitty, Robin, the Captain, Julian

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐭 𝟐

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: I.N X READER (MAYBE SEUNGMIN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: NON-IDOL! AU, YANDERE! IN, DUBCON/NONCON (?), VIOLENCE, SPIT, ORAL (M REC), SLAPPING, UNPROTECTED SEX, BREEDING (FORCED), CREAMPIE, POLICE, MENTION OF GUNS, PREGNANCY, MENTION ABORTION, FILMING, LOT OF CRYING AND APOLOGIZING, IT'S STILL A BIT FUCKED U ☾ ━━━ WC: 4K ☾ ━━━ PART ONE PART THREE ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Y/n tried tracking how long Jeongin had kept her in the isolated cabin. After a few days, everything blurred together. After a week she noticed him going in and out of the back, leaving her in the house. 

     She’d checked the windows and doors while “cleaning” the cabin. Everything was locked— padlocked. This was forever. 

     Occasionally, she’d find him watching the news— one of her friends had reported her missing. He’d almost put it on to tease her. That no matter how hard they looked, they wouldn’t find her. 

     It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried getting out. Multiple times even. But it just made him angry. When he was angry, it wasn’t good. He was a different person.

     He’d hit, yell, break things. Slowly everything became her fault. It was her fault he was like this. He’d started blaming for her friends being in a coma— admitting he had paid someone to hit the car that night. It scared her more. She’d shrunk into herself. Just praying he didn’t kill her. 

     But sometimes she saw the good bits and it threw her mind into a loop. But she knew it was all part of his manipulation tactic. One he fucked up once. 

     Jeongin had turned on the TV, news broadcasting the search for the two of them. her family and friends pleading with the public to find them. Then he got up abruptly and walked out the back door. Y/n waited a few seconds before reaching forward. He put her phone on the table to tease her. 

     If the TV was on, they had some signal. She tapped her screen and was surprised she still had battery life. She checked the back door one last time before opening her phone— not daring to pick it up from its position. She opened her messages with Changbin. Sending him her current location as quickly as she could.

Y/n: help

       you were right

     The message threw Changbin off. It’d been almost a month since she disappeared. He knew the moment she told him she and Jeongin were going on a weekend trip it wasn’t going to end well. 

     “What?” Minho asked as their usually loud friend went silent

     “Y/n texted me…” Changbin said

     “What did she say?!” Jisung practically yelled as he jumped on top of him

     “Aye!” Changbin yelled and pushed him off and looked back at the screen, “She sent her location and said help.”

     “HELP?!” Jisung yelled

     “Send it to the detective,” Minho said as he grabbed his keys 

     “Where are you going?” Jisung asked

     “We’re getting our friend back from that psycho,” Minho said

     “What if he has a gun?” Jisung asked

     “A chance I’m willing to take!” Minuo called. 

     The two followed the oldest out of the apartment. Changbin was on the phone with the detectives working on the case as he and Jisung followed their friend out of the apartment. Sending them the location Y/n sent him. The detectives redirected them over to the station to come up with a plan. 

     Y/n had quickly deleted the messages from her phone and shut her phone off quickly. Sitting back on the couch and waiting. And she waited for a while. Too scared to move before he came back in. Two hours later, it was already dark outside. She didn’t question anything. Not even the blood on his hands. Too scared to say anything to him. 

     She sat quietly on the couch, waiting for him to come back. She heard the shower turn on, giving her more time in her thoughts. She knew the drive from the city to where they were was long. At least three hours. She just waited anxiously. 

    Eventually, Jeongin came back into the living room and sat next to her. Pulling her onto his lap and kissing her neck. “It’s useless,” Jeongin said

     “What is?” Y/n asked

     “Them looking for us. I made sure no one could find us.” Y/n could hear the crazy dripping from his voice while he gripped her hips. 

     Y/n tried hiding how revolting his touch had become to her. She was scared of what would happen if she jerked away from him. He’d been unpredictable since they got here and she feared every step she took would set him off. She was walking on eggshells around him.

     “Get on your knees and face me,” He whispered in her ear and let go of her hips.

     Y/n got off his lap and turned around, facing him before sinking onto her knees between his legs. Jeongin leaned forward and grabbed her face, making her look at him. “Open your mouth.”

     Y/n did as she was told, opening up her mouth. Jeongin pulled her tongue out of her mouth and spit onto her tongue. Y/n left her tongue out as he sat back, pulling his cock out of sweat and sitting forward on the couch more. Putting his hand on the back of her head and pushing himself down her throat. Y/n gagged as the tip hit the back of her throat while he moaned at the feeling. Holding the back of her head and moving her head up and down his shaft. Y/n gripped the bottom of the dress she had on, trying to distract herself from him using her throat with the lace trim. Just hoping Changbin would get here soon. That he still cared enough to help her.

     Each drag of his cock had her disassociating more. He noticed. He pulled her off his cock and harshly slapped her across the face, letting her fall to the ground. “Who are you thinking about.” He demanded as he got on top of her

     “Y-You,” Y/n stumbled

     “Don’t lie to me Y/n,” Jeongin warned

     “I’m not! Promise, I was thinking about you Innie!”

     “Why are you lying to me Y/n?!” He yelled

     “I’m not!” Y/n cried

     “Maybe I should have killed Seungmin from the beginning. That’s who you’re thinking about, right? Right?!”

     He’s alive? “No! No, Innie, you’re the love of my life! Was thinking about you! It’s always you!”

     “Always me?” He asked, softening a bit hearing that.

     “Always you,” Y/n said, reaching for him a bit, cupping his face, and pulling him down for a kiss. Jeongin was quick to return it as he moved to put her legs over his hips, slipping inside her mid-kiss.

     Y/n moaned into his mouth as he thrusted into her. She was keeping his mind off anything else. She couldn’t risk him snapping before Changbin or the police got to them. She didn’t know how long it would be but it was her only bit of hope at this point. She had to hold out hope.

     “All mine.” Jeongin accentuated each word with a hard thrust into her. Chanting “mine, mine, mine.” with each thrust. His lips moved to mark her already hickey-covered neck. He never let the marks fade. Needing that visual to know he had claimed her.

     Y/n played her part. At some point, he stopped caring if she finished or not. Just got himself off, cleaned the two of them up, and repeated the process a couple of hours later. It was easier to act like she still loved him that way. Easier to pretend him being this close to her didn’t make her want to throw up.

     She blinked away tears as he finished inside her. Hoping none of them would fall and he wouldn’t notice. After a moment, he pulled out and got up. Leaving for a moment to grab something to clean her up before picking her off the ground and bringing her into the bedroom with him. Tucking her into bed before turning all the lights off in the cabin. Y/n lay in silence as he came back into the room, laying behind her and wrapping his arms around her. Holding her close to his chest.

     “You’re taking a pregnancy test tomorrow.” He told her

     “Okay,” Y/n agreed

     Y/n felt him kiss her shoulder before saying goodnight to her. She replied automatically but didn’t dare fall asleep, she hadn’t slept much in days, maybe only a couple of hours before she was awake, waiting for him to let her go. She just stared into the darkness, looking at the wall, and nightstand, trying to tell herself that this wasn’t real.

     She could hear the clock tick each second out in the living room. Trying to keep track of the time, disassociating the longer the seconds ticked by. She swore at one point she heard noise outside but assumed it was an animal. She wasn’t thinking of anything else. Not someone was there to save her. It was only minutes later the bedroom door was practically kicked open and lights shined bright in the room. People yelling that jolted Jeongin awake, his grip on her loosening. Y/n moved out of the bed as quickly as she could as what she assumed were police and SWAT were surrounding the bed.

     “Ms. L/n?” A voice said amongst the yelling for Jeongin to get out of bed

     “Yes…” She said, tears welling in her eyes

     “Let’s get you out of here. You’re safe now.” The officer helped her stand and wrapped a blanket around her.

     Every ounce of adrenaline she had practically been surviving off of crashed and she almost fell standing up. The officer carried her out before they got Jeongin out of the cabin in handcuffs. They carried her to the waiting ambulance before she heard her name being yelled.

     “Y/n!” It wasn’t Jeongin. She heard Jisung before she saw him. Once she did she opened her arms as he hugged her. “You’re okay.” She could hear that he was about to cry.

     “I’m sorry,” Y/n let the tears fall, crying into his shoulder.

     “Don’t apologize,” Jisung pulled away and looked her over as the paramedics got to work, trying to check on her.

     “Ji, let her breathe,” Minho’s voice came. Y/n saw him and Changbin walk up and it just made her cry more.

     “You got my text,” Y/n asked as Minho patted her head and Changbin hugged her. 

     “Yeah. Minho almost jumped the gun and came and got you without all this,” Changbin told her

     “I’m sorry, Bin…”

     “Don’t apologize. You were manipulated.”

     “I could have taken him in a fight,” Minho said.

     Y/n looked over her friend’s shoulder as they dragged her psycho ex out of the cabin. Quickly hiding again in Changbin’s chest.

     “She needs to get to a hospital,” one of the paramedics said

     “Wait, there might be someone else on the property,” Y/n told them as they tried getting her on the gurney in the ambulance.

     “What do you mean?” The officer who brought her out asked

     “He kept bringing up my ex, Seungmin. Early, he came back in with blood on him and said he should have killed him in the beginning.” Y/n explained

     “Check the rest of the property!” The officer ran into the chaos, relaying what she had said to him.

     “Ms. L/n, you need to go to a hospital for a full examination.”

     “Minho and I will stay here in case something happens. Go back with her, Bin.” Jisung said

     “We’ll call if they find him,” Minho reassured them

     Changbin nodded and helped the paramedics get Y/n onto the gurney, sitting close to her as they slowly drove away from the house.

     “Two detectives are gonna meet us at the hospital to take a statement, okay?” Changbin asked

     “Okay…” Y/n said

     “Tired?” Changbin asked her

     Y/n nodded as she relaxed into the pillow. Slowly nodding off from her lack of sleep and being out of survival mode. The beeping of monitors woke her up hours later. Having to adjust to the hospital light before looking over and seeing Changbin asleep in a chair next to her. 

     “Bin…” she said which seemed to have woken him up. He must have just started drifting off

     “Good morning,” Changbin sighed and stretched 

     “How long was I asleep?” Y/n asked 

     Changbin quickly checked his phone, “About seventeen hours.”

     “Damn,” Y/n sighed

     “Good news though. Chan, Hyunjin, and Felix woke up about a week ago from their comas,” Changbin smiled 

     “Did they find Seungmin?”

     “They did. Minho said they brought K-9 out because Jeongin wouldn’t tell them where he was. They found him chained up in a cellar under the cabin. He was doing the bare minimum to keep him alive and it looked like he was beating him from what Jisung said. Ji rode back in the ambulance and Minho followed them back.”

     “How long was he down there?”

     “He hasn’t said anything since they found him. Minho’s with him right now.”

     Y/n nodded, playing with the thin hospital blanket. 

     “Hey. This isn’t your fault. Jeongin manipulated you. No one blames you. He already confessed to having paid someone to hit the car that put the guys in a coma and kidnapped you and Seungmin as well as confessed to the assaults. He’s going to jail for a long time,” Changbin assured her and grabbed her hand, “The detectives still want your statement and the guys want to see you too.”

     “Can you be here when I give the statement?”

     “Yeah. Want me to let the detectives know you’re ready?”

     Y/n nodded and Changbin called the detectives letting them know she was awake and ready to talk. The two detectives were down at the hospital within a few minutes. Changbin sat quietly in his chair while she talked about what happened in the cabin. She could feel him seething next to her but didn’t say anything. At least till the detectives left. 

     “Say it Bin,” Y/n sighed

     “What?” he asked

     “I can feel your anger from here.”

     “I’m mad for you. Not at you. How could you tell them about that so calmly?”

     “Started dissociating when it would happen. Can we just stop talking about it?”

     “Okay,” Changbin agreed, “The detectives also grabbed your personal belongings from the cabin. Nothing is evidence, just have to go to the station and get them, okay?”

     “Can you go get them for me?” 

     “Yeah. Ji said he’d come by later so I could go back home and sleep properly. We just didn’t want you to be alone when you woke up.”

     “Thanks,” Y/n smiled as a knock came from the door. She jumped a bit but was relieved when it was just the doctor 

     “Ms. L/n. It’s nice to see you awake,” she smiled

     “Thanks,” Y/n said

     “There’s a couple of things I wanna go over with you.”

     “Do you want me to leave?” Changbin asked

     “You can stay bin.”

     “Alright. We ran a few tests while you were asleep to make sure everything was okay. No major damage to any bones or organs thankfully. I do want you to talk to a therapist about what you went through. Events like this can be very traumatic and we want to give you a safe space to talk about it.”

     “Ok.”

     “One of the tests we ran was a pregnancy test and it did come back positive.”

     “Oh…”

     “I’ll give you some time to think about where you want to go from here with the pregnancy. Please think it through, I’ll have our hospital psychiatrist come down and talk to you later today, okay.”

     “Okay,” Y/n nodded

     The doctor gave her one last smile before she left the room. Y/n took a shaky breath as she fell further into the pillow.

     “Hey, don’t cry.” Bin grabbed a tissue and wiped her tears, “We’ll figure it out. Okay?”

     “I don’t want to carry a piece of him with me, Bin,” Y/n cried

     “You don’t have to, okay? This is your decision. I’ll help you out with anything you need.”

     Y/n nodded her head as Changbin hugged her. Trying to comfort her as best as he could. Getting her calmed down after a few minutes and opted just to change the subject before Jisung showed up, hiding a batch of Felix’s brownies.

     “He wasn’t sure if you were ready to see him so he just sent them with me,” he explained

     “I’m gonna go pick up your stuff from the police station and grab you some clothes for when you get discharged, okay?” Changbin said as he checked he had everything

     “Okay,” Y/n nodded 

     “Have they said anything about discharging her?” Jisung asked

     “No. The doctor came in earlier but just went over the tests.”

     “Ah. Okay. I’ll keep you updated then.”

     Changbin nodded and left the room.

     “Want a brownie?” Jisung asked

     “Yeah,” Y/n smiled

     Y/n was thankful Jisung didn’t ask anything. Just kept her company till Changbin came back with her things and until the psychiatrist came in to talk to her. By the next morning, they were discharging her with clear instructions to take it easy and set up a meeting with a therapist. Changbin drove her back to her apartment. Getting up to the building and looking up at it.

     “You don’t have to go up. Chan won’t mind you staying with us. We have the spare room,” Changbin offered, noticing her hesitation

     “All my stuff is up there…”

     “I can come over and grab stuff.”

     “... You sure I can stay with you and Chan?”

     “Yeah.”

     “Okay…”

     “I’ll drop you off with Chan then come back and get some of your stuff.”

     “Thank you.”

     Changbin let Chan know the situation threw a few quick texts before heading to his place. Chan met her outside and helped her out of the car. Changbin promised to be back as soon as he could before driving off.

     “Long time no see,” Chan smiled as he brought her inside.

     Y/n sat on the couch as Chan grabbed her some water and a blanket. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit you in the hospital…” She finally said

     “Ah. I barely even noticed.” Chan waved it off, “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

     “I should have listened to you guys…”

     “Y/n, stop blaming yourself. You were as much of a victim of him as we were.”

     “But if I never met him then none of this would happened.”

     “Y/n, I think Jeongin would have come into your life one way or another,” Chan said

     “But—”

     “No buts. He’s criminally insane and is where he belongs. None of this is your fault.”

     “Can I have a hug?”

     “Of course.”

     Chan moved closer to her and wrapped his arms around her. He turned on a comfort movie per her request till Changbin got back. The two let her shower and ordered dinner for the three of them, checking on her every so often.

     Nights were the worst for her. Most of the time she didn’t sleep, when she did she’d have nightmares. Chan and Changbin both offered to stay with her but the thought of sharing a bed with someone after her ex was worse. They both understood and gave her her space. Eventually, Felix and Hyunjin came around. Telling her they didn’t blame her for what happened, just glad she got out.

     The guys all helped her as best they could. Even helping her find a therapist and getting back to her normal life. Y/n was lucky her old job understood what happened and welcomed her back into the company, with a remote position till she was ready to come back to the office on her own. She wasn’t going to complain— especially with the pay raise.

     Y/n was in the middle of working when Changbin knocked on her door. “You got a second?”

     “Yeah,” Y/n said as she turned to him

     “Minho texted me earlier and said Seungmin was getting discharged from the hospital. Felix wants to do something small at one of our places for everyone getting out of the hospital. Chan offered for us to do it here as long as you’re okay with it,” Changbin said

     “Something small?” Y/n asked for conformation

     “Yeah. A movie night or something.”

     “Okay. I’ll let them know. Also, Seungmin’s talking again and he gave his statement but he does want to talk to you too.”

     “Why…?”

     “I don’t know. Minho didn’t tell me much. Just that he wanted to talk to you.”

     “Okay…” 

     “I don’t think it’s going to be bad Y/n. You guys both went through something traumatic. It might help for you guys to talk about it to someone who understands.

     Y/n nodded before he left her to finish up her work. The movie night was planned for the end of the week when everyone was free. The group ordered pizza— something simple— and had a list of movies to watch. Y/n stuck next to Changbin for most of the first movie. 

     She looked down at her phone as it vibrated with a text notification 

Seungmin: I don't want to disturb the movie but can we talk?

                 maybe outside?

Y/n: yeah

     The two quietly got up and went outside. It was starting to cool off from the afternoon sun as they sat at a small table that was outside. 

     “How have you been?” Y/n asked

     “Better i guess. How about you?” Seungmin asked 

     “Better. Therapy helps a bit.”

     Seungmin nodded, “I’m sorry Y/n.”

     “Why are you sorry?”

     “Back when we broke up, about a month before, I had met Jeongin. He’d seemed normal and harmless at the time but it was a short lived friendship. He’d threatened me to break up with you when I mentioned wanting to propose to you. I hadn’t told him much about you but he seemed to know everything about you and our relationship. I thought he was joking then he…”

     “Seung…”

     “He’d pulled a gun on me. He watched me send the break up text then told me I wasn’t going to see you again and I guess that’s when I was technically kidnapped?”

     “Wait. He had you for almost a year and a half?”

     “Yeah… He threatened to kill me a lot but I think he got off on the idea of making me watch you two.”  “Wait, what do you mean watch?”

     “The police didn’t tell you?”

     “Tell me what?”

     “He had security cameras in the cabin and your place. For a year he forced me to watch the two of you together and in the cabin.”

     Y/n sat back, taking in the info. She felt disgusted with herself knowing that. 

     “He’d come down to the cellar because I was trying to pull the chains off the wall to get out. I saw you send the text on the cameras and tried distracting him longer in case someone immediately showed up.”

     “He kept bringing you up… that night he thought I was thinking about you when we were—“

     “You don’t have to relive it Y/n. I watched him do it to you for a month. I just never had the audio for it.”

     “I'm sorry, Min.”

     “This is not your fault, Y/n. I should have done something to protect you and I didn’t.”

     “He threatened your life Min. What were you supposed to do?”

     “Anything other than what happened. It still keeps me up at night knowing I —“

     “Min,” Y/n grabbed his hand, holding it in hers, “He had a gun on you. You couldn’t have done anything.”

     Seungmin looked down at their hands and covered hers with his other, “Doesn’t stop me wishing I could go back in time and stop this from ever happening.”

     “We can’t though. Just have to try and get past it.”

     Seungmin nodded and squeezed her hands. Y/n stood and offered him a hug. Seungmin gladly accepted and wrapped his arms around her tightly 

     “How about we help each other heal?”

     “I’d like that.”

     Y/n pulled away and looked at him. “You were going to propose?”

     “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?” Seungmin smiled before they heard a bang behind them. 

     Both looked after getting a bit freighted from the noise and saw their friends. Watching them.

     “I’m going to kick their asses,” Seungmin groaned 

     Y/n giggled, seeing the old Seungmin was still there.

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[befuddled-calico-whump]

T$$ Extra: Staples

cw: abuse/manipulation, noncon touch, vague fear of noncon, Hunter's terrible self worth, painful punishment

Masterlist // takes place the day before this

×~×~×

Vic hovered behind Hunter as he honed his focus on the map on the table, heavy hands settling onto his shoulders and squeezing. The paper in front of him was a mess of a grid. Lines and words and symbols trying to tell him the shape of a building. If he wasn't trying to see past it, maybe he could've made sense of it all, but Vic wanted more than sense.

Can your implant show us which route will be clear tomorrow?

Hunter didn't think so. His head throbbed with the misplacing shapes, with the memories of last night. Vic's hands twisting his shirt, pressing him in place, cuffing his hands and telling him "now wait" as chlorine burned his nose and green leeched past closed eyes.

He would've waited.

He could've fought Sahota, probably. Could've got him to fuck off, but he didn't. His legs carried him away even though his brain knew he was being stupid.

It was what Vic wanted. What happened if Vic knew he'd walked away so easily? If giving up made Vic change his mind?

He saw what it meant for Sahota the next day. Oil slick. A deeper pattern than Sahota gave Hunter when they first met, Vic choking the life out of him.

Had he meant to kill him? No, it would've just been to scare him, to remind him it was Vic in charge. Sahota shouldn't have interfered.

Sahota shouldn't have saved Hunter.

No, fuck that, he hadn't saved him. It wasn't like Vic was planning to choke Hunter out, that was just what Sahota got for breaking the rules. If he hadn't butted in, Hunter would be fine. He'd just... It probably would've hurt, but he'd be fine. He could take it, couldn't Sahota get that? He was so fucking good at taking it.

It wasn't like Sahota's stupid sacrifice did anything anyway.

Here he was.

If Vic wanted something from him, he could take it whenever he wanted.

"See anything?"

Hunter shook his head, breath catching when he tried to speak in a way that didn't betray his memories. "N-no. It's like... Fuck, the implant just thinks it's paper. That's all it sees. Lines on paper."

Vic hummed, green growing duller in disappointment, and even though it wasn't Hunter's fucking fault what the implant did or didn't detect, his chest tightened.

"I can figure it out on the spot," he said. "It doesn't matter what I see now."

"I believe you. You'll do good." Squeeze. "It would've been a valuable skill. Perhaps it can be trained."

Perhaps. But what if it couldn't? If Vic wanted something Hunter couldn't give?

It wasn't his fault. It was just his body, it was just... Him.

"Let's move on to something else."

Vines dipped in and out of his ribcage, twisting around the bones in a way that almost felt painful as he watched Vic cross the room. He didn't...

He had to.

Hunter squeezed his eyes shut against his throbbing skull and tried to breathe deeper. Fuck his lungs, fuck his stupid body, this was fine. Being afraid--- no, nervous, just nervous, it was just new---wouldn't change anything. He wanted this. This was his choice.

But when he looked up, Vic was only holding out a few objects. A bright pink marker, a pencil, a stapler. A neutral green wafting up from the hands that held them.

"We'll warm up with some location drills. Wait outside while I hide these. Let's see if you can find them all in under three minutes."

Hunter left the room with a nod, hating the relief that rose in him. It was only a minute or two before Vic came to get him, pointing him to the center of the room.

"You already saw them," he said, his arms crossed. "Pencil, stapler, highlighter. In that order. Three minutes."

Pencil, stapler, highlighter. Hunter muttered the list under his breath. In order. It was three things, not that hard to remember.

Pencil. He tried to picture it. Lead and wood. He used to chew on the erasers in class. Pencil.

A little trail of shimmering discs spun out towards the wall, and Hunter followed it, blinking away a new wave of ache that was starting behind his eyes. Pencil. It was wedged between the wall and the bookshelf, and he pried it loose, holding it up for Vic to see.

"Good boy."

Even after last night, even after knowing exactly what those words could mean, Hunter couldn't help the feeling that welled inside him. Hearing Vic say that felt good. It felt safe.

He set the pencil on Vic's desk. Okay, now the marker--- no, fuck, stapler. The discs still glittered their way to the pencil, even as he tried to wave them away. He still hadn't learned to shut off a trail. They lingered until they were done, stinging his eyes all the way through.

He tried to ignore them, focusing on the image of the stapler. Black plastic cover, thick rows of metal teeth inside, lining up to bite. After a moment, a new trail of shapes appeared, smaller discs, spikes jutting out of them. One of the drawers.

Hunter stepped forward to open it, snatching the stapler and again holding up his find for Vic.

"One minute," was the only response he got.

Alright, get on it. Marker, marker.

His head hurt. Shapes from the other two still danced around the room, too bright to look at even as they faded, making it harder to find the right trail.

Marker, fuck, marker.

A third trail faded in slow, low to the ground and again directing him towards the wall.

Hunter lowered himself onto his stomach, squinting at the shimmering line. Marker... Under the shelf? If he squinted he could see it. The flash of pink in the shadows.

"That's three."

Hunter froze as Vic dropped to a knee beside him.

"You're getting faster, but you still need practice. Good thing we'll have all the time in the world after this mission."

Rough-skinned hands slipped under his shirt before Hunter could voice his agreement, his promise to try harder. They palmed his lower back before hiking the fabric up, air on his skin.

"You like pain, don't you?"

Did he? "I... I don't know."

"You're very good with it. I think it's admirable."

A burst of petals split his vision a second before the shock of cold metal on his back, a click, the sharp fangs of a staple burrowing into his flesh.

Hunter flinched, hissing, but Vic's palm grew heavier, pressing him into the floor.

"Shhh, that's what I meant. You have so much control over yourself. You take it and keep going." The chlorine smell was back in full force, heavy, settling over Hunter with a strength that almost stung his skin.

Petals, click, teeth, another staple punching into his back.

Vic's thumb ran over the new wound, pulling at the metal there, and Hunter choked back a whimper.

He takes it and keeps going.

"Good boy, just like that." His thumb grazed Hunter's boxers, just barely nudging beneath the hem. "Do you want another one?"

It felt like a trap. Vic wanted a yes. A no would rebel against the picture Vic had of him, the picture of the person he wanted to stay, the person he wanted close, who he had some sort of affection for.

"Yes," Hunter said in a small voice, and petals drifted past him once again. Vic gave him two more, eight stinging punctures lining his lower back, Vic's crotch hot against his thigh. Hunter wished he didn't feel it, didn't feel anything. Everything around him piled up in his head to overwhelm him. The stupid glittering shapes, the throbbing in his head and new sharp pains in his back, Vic's hands, Vic's presence. He squeezed both eyes shut as his handler pulled away, cheek pressed into the floor, pressure everywhere.

He'd been right, before.

Sahota couldn't save him from anything.

×~×~×

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me , @light-me-on-pyre , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday , @kixngiggles , @echo-goes-aaa , @whumpcateyes , @clickerflight , @sodacreampuff , @starfields08000 , @melpomenelamusa , @what-if-i-just-did

[bau-drabbles]

the night we met, part 3

a/n: hope you enjoy! mentions of torture and guns throughout, kinda long and unrealistic but its fanfic so 🥴

what if haley never died that day? but what if your love for hotchner had to?

part 1, 2

"have you found her yet?!" hotch barked the order out as penelope frantically searched through copious amount of cctv footage all at once. several computer screens were open for the team, trying to find a clue on the location of where you had been taken.

"not yet sir" garcia whispered, her fingers practically flying across the keyboard silently begging for any sign where you could've left. hotch tried to reign his anger back in, this wasn't anyone fault but himself. if only he had caught up to you, just 60 seconds before you wouldn't have been here. if only that stupid kiss hadn't even happened, you wouldn't be god knows where getting tortured.

he takes a breath, knowing deep down it's not the time to react emotionally but it's hard not to, it's hard to even think rationally when he knows the likelihood of you surviving wasn't all that great. his profiler brain knew the possible outcome from this wasn't exactly high and with every second his worst fear could potentially become true.

"have you found her?" haley's voice cuts in and hotch shakes his head, his fingers pinching his temple for any signs that he must've missed. it feels overwhelming around him, flashes of people and the sounds of you seeping through his mind. it's dizzying trying to piece together what's real and what's not, flashes of you and that damned kiss is all that plays on his mind. the softness of your lips, the utter desperation between you both, the sheer passion that radiated in waves, all of it. he needed it again, he craved it.

it's even worse when his wife, the mother of his child, the very woman you almost got shot for, is standing there looking at with concern but he doesn't take any notice. he never would've though haley's voice could be so shrill and irritating, he never could've imagined himself recoiling away from her. so he simply doesn't answer her, sighing as he tries to go over the footage with garcia. he should tell her about the kiss but his lips remain closed, not willing to share anything more about you to her.

"well i can help-" "haley please. go home protect jack, he needs one of us" hotch dismisses her, his heart becoming in control of the situation. he can't stand to look at her, feeling so guilty for kissing another woman but even worse because he didn't regret doing it. his only regret was not kissing you for longer. still, hotch knew he was being overly harsh but the pure fear, the worry of you being alone and he wasn't there was enough to send him tumbling into a pit of pure distress.

but he took a breath, now was not the time to become emotional. he had to get his head in the game. the risk of losing you was too much to bear but the thought of you being out there, chained to a devil was enough to keep him going.

"police have set up roadblocks blocking any main exits in the city. if they've travelled, they can't leave the country" jj and emily come in, but the information isn't enough. who knows what the man could've been doing to you by now, who knows what terrible inflictions could've been upon you.

"we've checked any significant location but they've all come negative, the detectives are checking for any last known locations and the camera footage when they leave...." morgan and spencer are next to enter, their shoulders deflating in disappointment and sadness being unable to find you.

"we'll find her aaron" rossi pats hotch's shoulders and though the sentiment is sweet, any hope is starting to crumble and diminish now. you were just here, how could they not find you yet? the bau was supposed to be one of the safest buildings, how could someone so easily take you away like that?? his resolve was breaking and if he wasn't careful, all the feelings that were locked up tightly would begin to spill before he could've comprehended it. the truth he was too scared to admit would be admitted and he didn't know how long he could hide it for

before anyone could respond, a beeping appeared. and there beheld a sight they wished they would never have had to see.

taking a good glance at you, all seven team members found their hearts shattering piece by piece in their chests. a chorus of horrified gasps and exclaims echoed throughout the room and hotch could barely even breathe, the words dying on his lips

"aaaand here we go" you hear a click, the whirr of a computer and it takes you all your strength to awaken. an overwhelming feeling of tiredness practically envelopes your body, how easily you could fall into the darkness that awaits your presence. and then the unfamiliar feeling of being tied up grabs you attention, fear courses through your veins as your eyes open and adjust to the setting. it felt like a hospital room but this was no place where people were fixed. the sickly smell of blood and bleach is strong in the air, its overpowering and nauseating

but you calm your mind, it wasn't the time to panic. you had to think, you had to fight, you had to survive

your vision was slightly blurred looking at the man who held you captive, trying to ignore the intense throbbing in your head. your hands were cuffed to some chain, holding you upright on your feet. but he loosens something and you fall to the ground with a soft thud, vision spinning from the lack of hydration and the beatings he had given you prior.

"ohmy god.... y/n??" a breathless whisper echoes throughout the room and painfully, you glance at the camera. there, all your team members stood in complete horror. you see hotch and for the first time since you had known him, he's at a loss for words. just looking at you with so much pain, so much anger, so much fear.

you could feel your cheeks burning from shame and embarrassment, at your situation or the kiss you didn't really know. you didn't even want to know.

"y/n?? are you okay??? someone tell me she's okay please-" garcia looks on tearfully while morgan comes behind her, guiding her to the computer. truthfully they didn't have an answer to her question but they needed to focus, to keep you alive. and you didn't need to be disrupted, not when your life was at stake.

"that was to prove she's very much alive so none of you have to worry" and just like that you're brought up to your feet again, groaning when the handcuffs pinch the skin tightly. there's so much pain, you can't even pinpoint where it hurts the most.

"what is she dressed in?" someone seethed and you blink in confusion, craning your neck to see your body. it was a black gown you were in, a slit riding up the thigh. it was beautiful, too pretty to be drenched in blood. a stark contrast to the situation you were in now.

"don't worry i didn't change her, i had someone else to do it for me. my prizes have to look picture perfect" he brushes a piece of your hair and you swing your head out of the way, eliciting a kick from him. you don't even cry out, gasping for air at the momentum he had lunged at you with. your hands grip around the handcuffs but it was useless, you couldn't claw your way out of metal.

"you stupid bitch!" his fingers grip your face, you could see just how much his rage consumed him. it was unnerving to say the least, the slightest thing seemed to tick him off. there was no telling what he could do to you in this state

"enough!" hotch grits out, his fingers clenching into tight fists by his side. piece by piece his facade was cracking underneath the unsub's hammer. he couldn't reign in his control this time, not with your life being threatened

"who are you?" you grit out painfully, trying to stop the wave of nausea hitting you over and over. the man doesn't answer, the head of his gun trailing from your chin to the centre of your neck. you hear the click of the revolver and your breath is hitched, wondering if he was really going to kill you this way. wondering if you'd be shot in front of your team that remained helpless on the other side

"i've always wondered what the price was for killing an fbi agent was-" you see the man's cruel smile hit you can't answer, the fear felt overpowering.

"don't you dare" hotch snarls, surprising everyone with the intensity of his rage. and to your surprise, it had worked. the man eyed hotch and with a soft grin, dropped his gun and you felt your lungs take their first breath. tears pricked your eyes, the tiredness was practically swimming in your body but you couldn't crumble. not in front of the unsub, not in front of your team. and especially not in front of hotch.

"i think we should play a game, no?" the man smiles sadistically, pointing to you again. any strength you once held was shattering minutes by minute. your mind and body fighting over one another, wanting to give in and give up but forcing yourself to stay awake no matter what

"leave her alone! i can have you arrested on multiple accounts of-" hotch's face was unreadable, his hands etched tightly around the monitor but the unsub gestures to his mouth, to silence them all.

"if you want her alive, you'll do what i say. good luck trying to pinpoint our location, right now the cell service is bouncing around several cell towers all across the globe" frustrated, hotch looks towards garcia who was working feverishly and she sadly nods, it wasn't a clear location no matter how times she tried to hack into the system. she was hit waves and waves after a firewall which could take hours, time you didn't have to spare.

"so back to the game, who wants to start? oh and if anyone moves," you feel the pinch of a knife resting dangerously on the pulse in your neck.

"one twist and she's on the ground and i'll be miles away. and this would've been all for nothing" he moves the knife down to the centre of your neck. leaving spots of blood in its wake. all of them look helplessly at each other, the unsub had them right where he wanted them and they knew. any slight movement would guarantee your death, any secret calls would have you beaten before they could hang up.

you were all at his mercy, whether they liked it or not

"derek morgan" the unsub peered around the group and his eyes settle on him eerily. morgan gulps a little, trying to calm his shaking hands. his eyes looks at you helplessly then back to the unsub where his gaze had hardened as puts up his profiler front once more

"we're starting off easy, how many years have you and agent l/n known each other" the question was simple enough and yet it felt like he asked into the lions den, suddenly feeling rather exposed and confused. as if any answer to this simple question would be wrong even if it was the truth

"wha-" derek began but he heard a sound of disapproval and your shocked wince as you were yanked back by your hair

"wrong answer" you weren't even given a warning or a countdown before you feel a surge of hot white pain floods through your body. painful screams rip out through your mouth, your hands desperately clawing at the handcuffs but its to no avail. the team stand there panicking, yelling at the man to stop. the pain was intense, you could've almost passed out from the pure agony crippling you

"waitwait wait stop stop!!! it's three!!! i've known her three years!!!" derek shouts, banging the screen and the pain is low dull one, you gasp and gulp for oxygen that never fully reaches your lungs.

"if you had answered the first time around, none of this would have happened would it?" he scowls, giving you a nudge with the stick. you gasp out for air, your tongue heavy on your lips as your body groans against the ties holding you up

"hurry up garcia" hotch commands under his breath to penelope, her eyes watering as she's trying desperately get some location on you. jj and emily help, trying not to look at the horror that was unfolding and focus their attention on bringing you back safely.

"i'm so sorry, i'm so sorry-" morgan whispers, his hands shaking looking to and back from you and the unsub. hotch can only stare with his mind spinning, breathing coming out in short bursts, his heart feeling like it had plunged to the deepest darkest parts of the earth. he's losing his composure and as much as he's trying to reel it back, it keeps slipping from him. leaving nothing but a vulnerable scared man

"how you doing?" the man prods your head and you could only gasp at the anguish flooding your body. if it weren't for the incredibly tight rope holding you upright, you would've collapsed a long time ago.

"doesn't she look so pretty?" he holds your face mockingly and turns so the rest of them can see. every member of your team feel their hearts shattering and splintering, their hitched gasps of panic at the beating.

"agent hotchner" the unsub asked another question, his dark eyes settling on hotch. a manical grin on his lips as he revels in the alarm he has inflicted on the whole team. as if it gives him satisfaction that your life danced in his hands and your team members could do nothing but watch

"truth or dare?" the unsub smirks and hotch looks at you, his stoic facade crumbling. his heart was falling into a million pieces he's not sure he'll ever recover from

"truth" hotch utters, his voice completely free from the cold tone he usually dons.

"do you love agent l/n??" the chain holding you upright once again loosens, and that sends you tumbling to the floor in a broken beaten pile. your heart was racing, partly because of the pain but mostly due to what he would answer. with a good amount of strength, you raise your head and look at the camera. looking at his face, how his eyes flickers with so many emotions and how you can practically see his resolve breaking away

hotch was a good liar but seeing your broken defeated face, being unable to help you, he had answered the question without even realising.

"yes" the murmur was soft, his voice cracking as he takes in your approach. he had caused this. he had done this to you. the promise of protection was nothing more than jumbled words at his feet. he broke the very thing he swore on you, how could ever look at you the same again?

"aww what a cute lil romantic story this has evolved into" the unsub had cackled and your head shook, glaring at both hotch and the man who had held you captive

"there's nothing... romantic about this" your voice was weak but firm, refusing to even meet hotch's eyes.

"shut up" the man had gripped you, ignoring the protest your team were calling. it felt like too much, he held your chin and you look at him, it was now or never. you had to escape, you had to be free.

you had to survive

with one swift move, all your strength goes in knocking him down. he tumbles to the table, breaking the rotting wood with ease. the instruments clatter and you get up, hissing when your abdomen stretched a little. looking down, you see your body littered with blood and bruises. a huge burn mark plastering your side as the dress ripped apart but you didn't have time to feel sorry for yourself when you hear voices crying out that he was attacking again

"in front, y/n!!" derek commands and you duck, making him fall into the table. you quickly grabbing the keys from the scattered objects on the floor, jamming it into the lock and twiddling until you felt a click. the metal loosens and you feel them slipping off, eternally grateful that for once the universe was on your side.

you didn't get time to react for when you look in front, he's there again. but your leg connects with his groin, remembering the training moves you were taught. the force of the kick was enough to paralyse him for a few minutes as he screamed. you looked around, quickly trying to find some keys to unlock the door. your freedom was close, you could practically taste it as you rushed around.

and then you had made the biggest mistake of looking into the camera for a second.

in that second you catch a glimpse of hotch's face, it completely startles you. as if the world had stilled for a fleeting moment and all you see is hotch, just looking at you with so many emotions it's hard to decipher which is the most dominant. how despite everything, you want to hug him and never let go. your body inbetween his arms and your head against his heart, protected against any and all bad in this world. and then you remember the heartache he's caused you, the moment that had led up to you getting captured and every memory is a dagger to your heart. how could things have gotten so wrong?

but it was that moment that was used to the unsub's advantage

you hear screams echoing in the room but you don't comprehend until you feel a burning sensation completely puncture your abdomen. gasping, you look down to see blood gathering at your feet and dripping down your legs and before you even look back up, the object breaks the skin a second time. as if it was all in slow motion, your teams watched the horrific steps play out like a twisted play.

"i told you not to mess with me, you stupid bitch!" he grips and twists the object once more, resulting in a breathless gasp leaving your lips. the pain felt intense, a throbbing sensation overtaking you as you collapse. the horrible sound of your skin being punctures all but echoes in hotch's head, unable to do anything but to scream your name. shocked screams echo in the bau room, penelope's fingers are furiously typing away as she squeezes her eyes, unable to stop the horrible penetrative sound of your skin being stabbed in her mind.

the pain grows worse by the second and your scream dies on your lips, eyes fluttering closed ready to accept and await the darkness that overtakes your consciousness.

"nonono.... no!!!" hotch could barely manage a whisper, banging the screen as if he could magically appear to your aide. but he was simply doomed to watch you as you suffer and collaspe to the ground, breathing quickening. this couldn't be, this couldn't be the end.

you can see him and painfully you turn to watch his face. you don't know what emotions has crossed over his features, he still looks as beautiful as he did the first day you had set eyes upon him. how lucky you were to experience what it was like to be kissed by such a man, to be able to be in the presence of such a wonderful person. your tears had blurred your vision, not out of pain but out of gratitude. even laying on this cold floor, bleeding out, you were purely thankful for him.

he had protected you before and now it was your turn, this way he could focus on his wife and child. you would never be in the way again. there's a hint of the softest smile upon your lips as your eyes close. your fists loosened, limbs becoming limp as you closed your eyes, allowing the darkness to fully encapsulate your mind and body. maybe in a different world, a lighter one, you and hotch could be together against all odds.

the screen fizzles into a black page and hotch barely lets a breath out he didn't think he was holding. his hands have gripped the chairs, he didn't trust himself to stand without the support. he could feel his eyes prickling with the tears as hard as he tried to disguise them, his world was falling apart at the seams and he couldn't do a thing to fix it. all he wants is to be with you but now he didn't even know if you were alive anymore, that thoughts sends him further spiralling in his despair. he wanted nothing more than the ground to completely swallow him whole, the lump in his throat growing bigger as his team members looks at him. partly with concern, fear and pure sadness.

the room was completely silent, everyone's faces covered with a look of pure sorrow and so much anguish.

penelope's tears won't stop trickling down her cheeks. emily and jj look at each other with helplessness, their tears shining underneath the lights. morgan and reid lean against the table their hearts thundering in their chest, completely unable to process what had just taken place while rossi sits by a chair his head in his hands at the pure shock and pain running through him.

"it-it didn't look that terrible, she could still.... be alive" against his better judgement reid offers his support softly. the crushing weight of your absence completely crumbling hotch in a way they've never seen before.

"she was stabbed twice, reid. don't be so naive to think she could've possibly survived that alongside with the beating he had delivered. you above all, should know that much" his voice was harsher than he intended, heavy as the lump in his throat grew bigger. it felt like the air was being cut off, his thoughts ricocheting across from one another as his knees give way and he crashes to the floor in pure defeat and torture. he could faintly feel someone come to his help, his name being called but his mouth refuses to answer. all he can think about, all his mind is replaying is the moment before you closed your eyes. how he wasn't there to help you, how he couldn't rescue you this time.

you could've still been there with them had he been to your aid just 60 seconds earlier. if he had chased you quickly, you wouldn't be beaten and bruised within an inch of your life and now you were... gone. his heart felt like it was being twisted painfully, gripped tight as the thought of never hearing your laugh and seeing your smile became permanent. the dam had broken and the tears spilled down his face, his hands clutching the carpet but to no avail.

what we he supposed to do now, haunting by the memory of you like this? what was he supposed to do haunted with the ghost of you?

[darksturnioloqueen]

Sadistic!Matt x Paradise

**This Fic Series will NOT be for people with triggers. This Fic Series will have very descriptive moments of Sadism.**

Sadistic (Sadism - The Act Of Being Sadistic)

Deriving (getting) pleasure from inflicting (causing) pain, suffering, or humiliation on others.

Please Read At Your Own Risk.

⚠︎Trigger Warning: Honestly I get so tired of these... the only warning is I'm not fucking doing it this chapter. I wrote 4 grand words for yall consume it or don't. (Will note two men pressure Pet.) ⚠︎

I don't normally do songs in this series but this is the song I heard in the club in case you wanted to 'hear' it too!!

Matt was gone at work all day, and you and Paris were partners in crime. You decided to look for the journal one more time, hoping maybe this would be the time that you could get to learn about yourself through Matt's eyes. Really, Paris was on the bed watching you throw things around your combined bedroom haphazardly. You were on your knees digging through his dresser drawers, again. Wishing this was the time he decided to leave the journal here.

"Paris, why is he so good at hiding shit." You huffed, sitting back. You looked around and went back to the closet, the original spot where the journal was located. You were moving his things around, looking for anything out of place, but nothing was. You had tossed a few pairs of pants over your head.

Mew.

"Sorry, Paris." You looked back to see her crawling out from under the fabric. You started stretching to touch all the way at the back of the shelves, again hoping he was dumb enough to put it where you first found it. The thing about Matt was that he was never dumb; every move he made was calculated. While you were busy, you missed Paris hopping off the bed and looping back under it. Being the perfect detective, she found something on the floor and started batting it around like a toy.

Mew.

She kept playing with it until she was out in the open. Your setting back startled her, and she ran to the edge of the door.

"I'm sorry, baby." You cooed. She came back over and started swatting at the object again. You watched her play with it for a bit. You loved Matt more than anything for giving her to you.

Mew.

But sometimes you wish she spoke English or you spoke cat. "What is this?" You zoned back in to realize the toy she was choosing to play with wasn't one of her usual ones, and you reached for it. Your movements spooked her away from the crumpled ball. You unraveled the ball and examined the words.

Welcome to Paradise.

423-856-2000

2905 Paradise Lane, Los Angeles, California, 90015

You read the front page over and over. You turned the page to look at the backside, and the only thing written on it was that it was addressed to Matt. Your Matt. You gulped and turned it over to reread the front. The pictures of the half-naked girls made your stomach turn. Your head was beginning to spin with questions. What is this place? Why is it addressed to Matt? How long ago was he there? Has he gone since you two have been together? That last thought welled your eyes. Paris curled up in front of your knees.

"It's okay. It's not your fault." You whispered as a tear trailed down your nose. You heard the door open, and Paris jolted out of the room to meet Matt.

"Fuck." You heard his voice, annoyed she was so quick to greet him. You frantically wiped the few tears you let escape and plastered on a fake smile, mentally thanking Paris for buying you some time. "Pet?" His voice usually excited you, but after your newfound information, it only made your skin crawl.

"Coming." Your voice was unintentionally shaky. You stood up just as he rounded the doorway into the bedroom. He noted the mess you made.

"What is this?" He smirked in a cute, clueless way.

"I was looking for something I lost during the moving process." You lied like a pro. You were proud of how quickly you could sometimes.

"I'm sure it'll turn up." You loved and hated that he did that. He never asked for more. He always took your words at face value, and in times like these, it was perfect for avoiding the real subject. But other times when you wanted him to ask more, he never did. Those were the times you wished he could communicate a little better.

"Yeah." You started stashing the clothes in one pile.

"So what's for dinner?" He set his laptop bag on the bed and started undoing his belt. You felt your heart flutter, remembering how the leather felt slapping against your soft, sensitive skin the first night you met. As soon as the flutter was over, your brain took over your thoughts and reminded you of what was called Paradise, but felt like it was Hell burning in the back of your skull. Your eyes immediately started misting again.

"I'm - I'm not sure." You avoided looking at him. You knew if you made eye contact, you would break and didn't want to.

"Pet?" His voice was different, less excited, softer.

"Yeah?" You squeaked out.

"Look at me." Matt wasn't observant about anything that didn't matter to him. You mattered to him. The way you avoided looking at him, your voice cracking, trembling even, he caught it all. You looked at him and instantly let out a little whimper. It was absent of lust. Every time Matt looked at your face, he memorized every new freckle, every new shade of pink, everything so the next time he looked at you, he could catch a simple difference.

This difference wasn't even hard to tell. Your cheeks were flushed hot, your eyes were pinker instead of glossy white, and you had wet stains from tears that had streamed moments before. "What's wrong, Pet?" His voice tightened a little. It was hard for him to see you upset. He cared about you and wanted to try to be a normal boyfriend by being there for you, but he couldn't help but immediately feel his waist tightening.

"Nothing. Nothing. It's fine." You lied. This time, your lies were see-through.

"What is wrong? Tell me." His voice commanded the truth out of you. You couldn't speak, so you just held out your hand with the paper. He took the paper and looked at it with the quickest of glances. He didn't need to examine it thoroughly; he knew what it was. "Oh, this." His tone was a little satisfied. You looked at him through the tears blurring your vision.

"Yeah, what is that? Are you chea-" His hand covered your mouth before you could finish.

"I would never fucking cheat on you Pet. Never." You blinked, letting tears stream down to his hand over your face. You looked into his deep blue eyes and accidentally smiled underneath your lip's warm cover at his words. You felt how true they were.

"So what is it?" You asked, peeling his hand off of you. He complied, letting you remove his fingers.

"It's just a club I used to hang out at." He shrugged it off. Matt at a club didn't make any sense to you. He was not social.

"Have you gone recently?" You dared to ask. You didn't want him to sense your nerves or jealousy. "No." His tone was mixed. It was rough and rigid, as if on edge, but still held the truth.

"Do you want to go back?" You weren't sure what you were trying to get at.

"You want to go?" He countered. You had to make a crucial decision. You could drop the subject and deny the offer further, letting it eat you alive, or you could accept his invitation and see what kind of club Matt would be into frequenting. His eyes darted all over your face, anticipating your answer. He cocked his head to the side to signal his impatience.

"Sure." You ultimately decided this was potentially another moment you could get to know him better. Picturing Matt at a club was almost comical, and after the mental stress you put on yourself thinking he was cheating on you, you decided you deserved a laugh. Matt changed into baggy sweatpants and an old black lacrosse T-shirt. You gave him an inquisitive look.

"What?" He said, grabbing his car keys off his dresser.

"For a club?" You looked him up and down, so he knew you were discussing his outfit.

"Trust me. You'll want to be comfortable." His smirk unnerved you. Nonetheless, you heeded his advice and put on sweatpants opposite to his. You still wanted to attempt to look cute, so you layered a cropped pink zip-up over a skin-tight white tank top. You contrasted him just like usual. "Ready?" He enjoyed watching you get around. What you were doing didn't matter; he enjoyed consuming every action. You were the best thing that ever happened to him. He would never get over that.

"So it's called Paradise, is it tropical themed?" You asked naively.

"No." He was short, telling you he was nervous or avoiding telling you something. The car ride was a deafening silence. Your chest was tight, afraid that if you breathed too loudly, it would upset him. He parked the car in a random parking lot full of other cars. You went to grab the handle to open your door, but jumped and froze when you felt his tight grip on your thigh. "Pet, before we go in." He swallowed hard. He was trying to talk to you.

"Yeah?" You kept your voice soft, understanding. You wanted him to feel comfortable telling you everything.

"Before we go in, you need to know some things." You nodded, opting to stay silent because you couldn't find the right words. "First, if you are uncomfortable, you need to tell me and we will leave." That made your body run hot. What in a club could make someone so uncomfortable that they would want to leave? You looked deeper into his eyes. The concern was showing the most it ever had in your entire relationship. Again, too stunned to speak, you just nodded. "You also need to know, I came here a lot before I met you. I have not been here since the night in the hotel." He looked stressed.

"Okay." You sighed out a huge breath. You saw him breathe it in. He grabbed your jacket and pulled you to lean into him. His lips pressed firmly onto yours. You could feel all of his uncertainty in this kiss. As soon as the kiss was broken, he got out of the car, avoiding looking at you. You followed his actions and waited for him to lead the way.

As you neared the vintage light bulbs lighting up the door, you started to understand his concerns a little more. In giant lit-up letters, you read, Paradise Point of Sex. Your stomach felt heavy, and your heart lurched—the fear inside you building as you wondered what you got yourself into tonight. At the door, you observed Matt.

"Matt."

"Password?" The large bald man was firm.

"Bloody Sadist." Matt didn't sound confident in his answer. The man typed on his tablet.

"Welcome to Paradise, Matt." The man pushed a button signaling a buzzer to open the door. Matt pushed it open and grabbed your hand. You felt him trembling.

"Is that really your password?" You giggled a little. Matt was too nervous to enjoy the humor you were finding in this. He knew his past was fucked up. The last thing he wanted was for it to ruin your future together.

"If you want to leave, just tell me." He finally looked down at you. You took this as your chance to really examine his emotions—nothing but fear.

"Okay." You whispered. Matt walked through a blackout curtain, pulling you along. When you were in the club, you realized why Matt was so worried. The music was the first thing filling your head with a pulsing rhythm, lacking lyrics. The lighting was dim and red. Very few lights showed the proper color of anything, just red. Matt didn't bother looking around. He was familiar with this scene before both of you; his eyes were locked on you. He was ready to walk out any minute. Your eyes were wide, your mouth popped open slightly, and your chest heaved in surprise.

Your brain finally realized what kind of club you were truly in—a sex club—the half-naked girls and men performing sex acts of all kinds. The music was pounding loudly to drown out the different shades of moaning from multiple people simultaneously. A random girl's breasts bounced up and down while a man thrusts up into her on a throne chair. Another girl was sucking a dick while a different man was fingering her on a couch. Everyone was touching someone in a sexual manner, and you weren't sure how you felt. The idea of Matt being here made you feel sick, but the thought of swinging intrigued another part of you.

"We can leave anytime." He assured you.

"You did this often?" You looked up at him, which was a mistake. Looking at him made your stomach turn. You were disgusted at the idea of him doing this.

"I just watched." He was glad the lights were red; otherwise, you would have seen him blush at his honesty.

"You never fucked anyone here?" You didn't believe him. He was a sex God. He lived for it, and a place like this looked like it would feed every desire he ever had.

"I would jerk off, if that's what you want to know." He shrugged and tugged you further into the building, passing random bowls of condoms in all sizes and flavors. He sat down on an empty couch and pulled you onto his lap. You thought about his words and caught that he avoided the question.

"You never fucked anyone here?" You could tell he was lying to you.

"Once." Your heart dropped. He noticed your face paling. "They were too innocent for me." He chuckled. You looked at his amused face and then around the room to see everyone enjoying themselves sexually and openly. You were still trying to figure out your stance on a club like this. You felt guilty for being upset, given that you were a moonlighting submissive to men for a job before you met Matt. It was only fair that he had a sexual past that didn't involve you.

"So what are we doing here?" You tried swallowing the lump in your throat. Matt bobbed you up and down on his leg in thought.

"We don't have to do anything." He leaned back and smiled up at you. You saw the lust in his eyes. He wasn't hard after looking at all the naked women around in the club but after smiling up at you, you felt his cock twitch and begin to grow.

"Doesn't feel like it." You took your chance to tease him.

"Yeah." He reached up and grabbed your throat and pulled you down to him. Swiftly, he had your back to the couch and hovered over you. "Tell me if you are uncomfortable." This was strange to hear from him. You would never get used to it. Matt looked around to see if anyone was watching the two of you. He smirked, satisfied no one was looking at his girl, and put his attention right back on you.

"I'm okay." You whispered, unsure if the music blurred your words before he caught them. Matt's fingers tugged down your sweatpants just to your knees. He didn't want anyone seeing any part of you. The thrill of Matt becoming jealous was making you pine for more. Matt wanted to cover the little bit of you that was exposed for everyone to see as fast as possible. He was quick to tug down his own sweats and connect your waists, plunging inside you. "Fuck!" You yelled. It was loud, but the music engulfed the words, so no one but Matt heard. He started slow rocking in and out of you. His left hand laced with your fingers above your head, and his right hand gripped your waist, keeping you steady with his rhythm. His hips pushed and pulled to the erotic music playing, heightening the sensation you felt inside. You watched him as his head stayed down, looking at your connected bodies. He never thought about coming back to this club, not once after meeting you, but now he was fucking you here.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." His head dropped down to your ear so you could hear him clearly. You felt him push one deep thrust inside you and stop moving. You lurched up at the sudden depth inside of you and felt his body shiver on top of you. You bit your lip and grinned, realizing what had just happened.

"Did -"

"Shut the fuck up." His voice held nothing but embarrassment. He lay on top of you, still inside of you, as he reconnected your lips. This kiss wasn't uncertain like before in the car; it was more passionate and deliberate with emotion. He was feeling his connection with you grow from a simple kiss. After his dick was completely softened and slipping out of you he quickly got up and tucked himself away. He immediately jumped to help you pull your sweatpants back up.

"I got it." You giggled, knowing he was on edge about another man seeing you.

"I'm going to go get a drink and have a smoke." He was avoiding the uncomfortable sensation of having gotten off before you and not being able to finish you.

"I'll wait here." You didn't care to go with him while he smoked. While he was gone, you looked around carefully to avoid eye contact with anyone but long enough to take in the club. You could see why Matt would come here often. He was alone, before you, of course, but still alone. He didn't have anyone, so this club allowed him to be social. Even if he didn't talk to anyone, he was social in the only way he knew how. Sex.

"You here alone?" You looked up to see a man in boxers hover dangerously over you.

"No. I -" Your words halted when he took Matt's spot on the couch.

"Hey Jay." Another man greeted him and sat on the other side of you. You looked around, hoping Matt's cigarette would take a while, so he didn't overreact.

"You are too little to be here alone." The new guy missed his friend's previous question.

"I-I'm-"

"You don't have to be nervous." The first guy set his hand on your thigh. You shrunk.

"No, thank you." You said, hoping that would work.

"Petite and polite."

"Just how I like it." The one guy moved in to put his lips on your neck. When you leaned away, you were met with the other man trying to advance on you. You went to stand off the couch but were tugged back down and held at the hip. A touch that felt disgusting. You closed your eyes and changed your mind about him smoking for a while, and hoped it was over any minute.

"Pet." You sighed and kept your eyes closed.

"Sorry, man. We didn't know she—" You heard a grunt and knew the words were knocked out of his mouth.

"Bro, calm down."

"I will not fucking say it again." Matt's voice wasn't louder than the music, but his tone demanded attention and action. Your eyes stayed closed. You didn't have to see anything to know how upset he was. You felt hands on your thighs, and the familiar warmth had you slowly opening your eyes. "Are you okay?" Everything about him towards you was an unfamiliar softness. Matt was never soft with you like this. He was always rough and dominant in the hottest of ways. You nodded.

"Here." He handed you the car keys and pulled you up. "Go to the car and wait for me." You wanted to ask why he wasn't coming, but couldn't find the words. Instead, your feet were heavily dragged to the car. The air outside while you waited was cold and calming. Not having the music pound in your ears helped your brain think clearly. You waited, and waited. Matt was taking his time. Something in your stomach twisted, and you decided to see what was taking so long.

You walked back up to the door, and luckily for you, the doorman recognized you from earlier, coming in with Matt, so you got in with Bloody Sadist. The words still gave you a little smirk as you walked back into the club. You scanned the room and couldn't find Matt anywhere in the main area. You had to go deeper into the club. You walked in and kept walking until you made your way to the outdoor patio that was fogged up from puffs of smoke. You saw Matt leaning up on a table with a girl standing in his personal space. Matt was laughing. His smile was genuine, and his laughter carried through the air and right into your chest. You couldn't remember a time you ever made him laugh like that. You marched right up to him with false confidence.

"Is this why you wanted to come back?" You asked, surprised you could even muster the words out. Matt looked at you, shocked that you were questioning him. His female friend, whom you caught a glimpse of quickly, looked you up and down. From your quick glimpse of her, she was perfect for him. Dark, brooding, and mysterious. Everything you would see him falling in love with.

"Sorry, Pet. I ran into an old friend." You were so blinded by your feelings that you didn't realize you could have had an opportunity to learn more about him. You were past that point.

"Is she the girl you fucked?" Matt stood straighter. He wasn't planning on running into her. He didn't know she still came to Paradise. So, how was he supposed to tell you the truth without breaking your heart?

"Let's go home." Matt's voice was stern.

"She is." Your voice cracked, and the lump pushed its way to the top. Matt's heart broke. He knew he couldn't stop you from hurting, especially over him.

"I'll let you guys talk." His friend left after giving him a specific look. One you didn't understand.

"Let's go home," Matt repeated, but this time there was that softness you had gotten all night.

"No." You couldn't even look at him the same. "You told me to go to the car so you could talk to her?" Matt's jaw tightened. He wasn't mad that you were yelling. He wasn't mad that you were assuming things about him and her. He wasn't even mad that you were causing a scene. He was angry because you were hurt, and he knew he couldn't fix it because he was the reason.

"I was walking out, and she caught me at the door." Matt knew the only way to get through this was to talk, even if he didn't want to. The thought of losing you was worse than telling you things you might not want to hear.

"Did you fu -"

"No." Matt stepped closer to you. You looked into his deep eyes. He didn't lie. You stood in silence, staring at each other. Matt was unsure what to say without being prompted, and you were breaking before him. You only worried about Matt's perception of you when you skimmed the journal, but tonight, you worried about the most cliche questions: Would he cheat on you? Was he cheating on you? But worst of all, were you not good enough for him?

"I want to leave." Matt nodded and walked forward, turning you to be in front of him. He held your arms, guiding you through the club he knew very well. Everything was silent—the walk to the car with the thumping music fading into the background, and the car ride home. Once at home, you hid in the bedroom while he had another cigarette in his chair. You curled up under the sheets and thought about tonight. You were feeling a mix of swirling emotions, but the most prominent was sadness.

While you were falling apart in bed, Matt was overthinking in the living room. He put the burning end of his cigarette out on his right thigh and hissed at the singed skin. He couldn't lose you. Out of all the women he had ever met, dated, and slept with, you were the one. He knew it. He sulked to the bedroom door, feeling the cloud weighing him down the closer he got. "Pet?" Matt knocked on the door before opening it anyway. He just wanted his presence to be known. "Can we talk?" He asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. You scrunched up more. "I would never cheat on you. I have not been to that club since -"

"Me. I know." You moved the blanket down from your eyes so you could look at him. His heart shattered seeing you cry. He wasn't even turned on this time. "How much time between her and me?" You dared to ask.

"Two months." Matt wasn't holding back. He wanted you to know. That actually made you feel a little better. You moved the blanket down more.

"Why did you buy me?" You realized you never had this conversation.

"I was watching pain porn and after there was an ad to buy a sub." He smirked a little and shook his head, remembering it all.

"Why me?" You were curious now.

"I wanted someone who wasn't my usual type. Someone I wouldn't get attached to. Someone I wouldn't get feelings for." He looked right into your eyes.

"How did that work out for you?" You absent-mindedly played with your bow ring. Matt noticed. He picked up your hand and held it over his mouth. He didn't kiss it like a prince, just held it close to his mouth.

"Not very well." He chuckled—a real laugh. Your heart leapt hearing it without the pounding music drowning it out. "I love you, Pet. I want you forever. I -"

"I know." You interrupted him as much as you wanted him to talk to you, and wanted him to confess his unwavering love to you every minute of every day. You tried to respect him. You wanted to keep in mind that for him, it isn't always easy to express things to you, and you wanted him to know you understood his love, regardless of whether it was spoken aloud. You felt it, and that is what mattered. You knew.

[bonzos-number-1-fan]

TMAGP 32 Thoughts: Spirit of Place

It's a nice simple one this time around but it's a evocatively written statement with some really strong imagery and Also, I'll be honest, I think I've forgotten how I write these things so this might be a break in the usual format. We'll see how it goes.

Spoilers for TMA, and TMAGP episode 32 below the cut.

I really like when Gwen gets to be not a total ass to people. She tries really hard to get some respect and will likely never get any but she's still got a heart underneath it all. It's not the biggest heart but it's something.

A pretty light case all in all. Maybe not tonally, but in terms of content and the context of the content I feel this one is pretty easy going. I think this one could've done with a bit of editing to cut down on so much of the preamble. I don't personally think so much robot-y introduction does it any favours and could see a version of this story that had snappier framing. Usually when they do these sorts of historically set ones I feel the need to add some greater context to them but for this I think it mostly stands on its own. I would think most people would understand this is about the English city of Liverpool its founding and it's history with the slave trade, through to the industrial revolution, the war, and now modern day and how that changed it as a location. Everything discussed is explicit, and there isn't a lot to add to it, outside of its mention of exultations/dancers. Those dancers would be the Calderstones, which are remnants of a megalithic tomb. At some point they were moved and then permanently affixed in place with concrete. Liverpool is also somewhat famously founded with just 7 streets which is what the following description of "six becoming seven" is talking about. Otherwise, yes, Liverpool was deeply entrenched with England's slave trade, got bombed to shit during the war, and is now one of the largest cities in the country.

I do think the personification of the city is interesting though. At least in terms of genii locorum. A genius loci is a simply the spirit of a place, the terminology is from classical Roman religions, but the concept of a place being more than it's construction isn't unique to it. There have been a number of other religious and spiritual beliefs that have a similar concept in them. Similarly, this idea of a place having a spirit is also not unique to this case alone and is something TMAGP has returned to a few times. This is a very overt example of a personality but places like the Millennium Dome, or Forton Service Station have had similar sorts of concepts around them. Roman philosophy and religion is a often very foundational to alchemic philosophy too and while it might be hard to say exactly how relevant all of these things will be there is a lot of connective tissue here at least.

All in all, a solid case with some really strong writing.

Celia: We still don’t even know what it is [bzzt] or whether it’s still a danger. [bzzt]

Ah, mysterious lie-detecting static, how I've missed you so.

Alice: Sorry, I know this isn’t your fault I’m just…

Poor, Alice. She just doesn't know that it's all Celia's fault in about every way it could be. That's gonna suck to find out.

It's really nice that Colin has returned to us. We shouldn't take offense as his new form and should be grateful he's here at all. I'm sure this won't in anyway become a problem in the future so just be glad he's in the office more.

They both react as the hand is schlorped back into the computer.

Get schlorped, bozo

Luke not getting forgotten about is nice too.

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Incident/CAT#R#DPHW Master Sheet and Terminology Sheet

DPHW Theory: 1475 is interesting. It tracks really well IMO as Here's statement is obviously about their helplessness primarily. It's also about their own pain, and coupled with the general strangeness and the compulsive aspects 1475 is a good fit. However, it's also basically a throwaway filing and so can't really be relied upon to be accurate.

CAT# Theory: 2 is a fun one. Because it would line up with the Person/Place/Object theory, but also with sulphurous soul, the anima, a things emotions and wants if we're talking my initial Tria Prima idea. Which I might return to with the greater context of what is and isn't junk data the Q&A brought up. Again though, it could be junk.

R# Theory: C does happen to line up very well with my idea as this is incredibly either to brush off as mere mental health issues. But, throwaway etc.

Header talk: Building (angry) -/- N/A. I love it. I mean, it's obviously and painfully a bad fit but it is fun.

[sleepingstarandorea]

"I don't wanna lose you again."

Team Chaotix oneshot fanfic.│Angst with Comforting at the end.│Enjoy! <3

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

It was night time located at the Chaotix Detective Agency, in Seaside City. It was a calm night, everyone resting peacefully, all except for one. In Espio's bedroom, he was trying to sleep but something seemed to be bothering him. His body was shaking, his breathing was heavy, and his tail curled. Espio is having a nightmare, again. He holds his blanket tight, murmuring something in his sleep. He’s having another nightmare about the Metal virus events, and it was the same nightmare where he lost Vector and Charmy back at Restoration HQ.

"... N-no… No...V-vec… Char…my… No, no...Vector d-don’t...please stop…No no no—” Espio was tensing up as the nightmare became more heavier for him. He grabbed the blanket even tighter, shutting his eyes forcefully. Each time passing became more painful for Espio until he woke up as he screamed

   "AAH!... " he gasped standing up from his bed, he was now sitting down still holding his blanket tightly, his breathing felt heavier, and he felt his chest tight. Espio tried to catch his breath, panting as tears streamed down his face. 

He was crying without him realizing he was. Espio talked to himself for comfort, but no matter how many times he told himself it was “okay” he couldn’t stop crying. Espio covered his defeated face, sobbing in silence so no one could hear him.  

A few minutes passed, Espio glanced at the clock to see what time it was: 2am of the night. Espio gave a deep exhale and got out of bed to go to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He walked to the kitchen, opened the cabinet, grabbed a cup of glass and served himself water from the sink. Espio then took a sip from his glass of water and sat down over the dinner table, he stayed there with only the deep silence around him. 

He spaced out, lost in his own thoughts. He couldn’t stop to think of those horrible moments he had to go through.

 He still blamed himself for not being cautious enough and letting everyone be in danger. He felt like a failure, as a ninja and as a detective. If it wasn’t for Sonic and Silver, he would have lost everything. How can he call himself a ninja detective if he can’t even save his own family. 

All those negative feelings were affecting him, thankfully someone touched Espio's shoulder making Espio snap back to consciousness. Espio flinched when felt something touching him and when he turn around he saw Vector. 

“Hey, I was talking to you—” Vector paused. “Are you okay Espio?” 

Espio was still progressing, but he then shook his head and cleaned his tears up. “Vector, I a-apologize. I didn’t hear you, I’m fine.” Espio responded, not wanting to worry Vector, but the crocodile wasn’t convinced in his claim. There was a moment of silence, before Vector took a chair and sat in front of Espio. 

“You had a nightmare, didn’t ya?” Vector spoke again, looking at the chameleon who stayed quiet. “I figured by the scream I heard earlier, and by the look on your face. Wanna talk about it?” Espio continued to stay quiet, he wasn’t even looking at Vector, his gaze was looking down to his hands. “Hmm. Got that.” Vector got the message that he didn’t want to talk about it, he thought of another way to comfort Espio. 

“Well then, listen. Whatever it is bothering ya, just know that. I’m here for you, Espio.” 

“And when you're not?…” Espio said, finally spoking. 

Vector was caught by this. “What? Oh.” Vector sighs, before speaking again. “Espio, what happen wasn’t your fault—” 

“Of course it was!” Espio stood up from his chair and interrupted Vector. His voice sounded a painful guilt in his tone. 

“I knew it was a dangerous idea to go after Charmy after he was already infected. We put the whole restoration HQ in danger by bringing an infection without no cure yet. Not only that, I almost thought that I had lost you and Charmy, all because I wasn’t smart enough to come up with a better solution to keep both of you safe. I should have done more!” 

“That wasn't you, there was already someone on board infected, remember?! We had Charmy secured in that container, until everybody started to get infected. I had to keep you safe, I couldn’t let you or anyone else get infected so I took the choice to stay behind. It was to protect you, that wasn't your fault Espio!” 

“So you just decide to give up your soul, leaving me to think that I lost you forever and I wouldn’t ever see you or Charmy?!”  

“I've already lost Charmy once because of my fault, I wasn’t gonna take the chances of losing you too!”

Espio and Vector had a continuous back and forth argument between one another over whose fault it was. Espio blaming himself for not protecting the team and Vector blaming himself as well for also not protecting the team. All these arguing left Charmy woke up, peeking out of the doorway upset hearing Espio and Vector fighting with each other. He never sees them fight like this, and they never have.  Charmy couldn’t bear much longer so he spoke.

 “ G-guys…” This caught the attention of both the chameleon and the crocodile to glance over the small upset bee hiding behind the doorway. They realize that their argument had accidentally woken up Charmy, and felt guilty for having Charmy to see them like this.

“Charmy, we…We didn’t mean to wake you up little guy.” Vector apologizes to Charmy as he kneels down, opening his arm for Charmy to come to his arms, and Charmy does just that. He went to Vector and hugged him tightly.  “We're sorry little guy.”

Charmy sniff, the little bee seems to be crying from all the screaming and fighting. He didn’t like when their dad and big brother fought like that. “P-please don’t fight because of me…It's n-none of your guys fault, it's m-mine.” Charmy said, shocking Espio and Vector of what the small bee had said. They both disagreed and tried reasoning with Charmy that he didn’t need to blame it on himself.  

“Charmy, what on Gaia are you trying to say buddy?!” said Vector 

“No, Charmy, if anyone is sure it is not yours.”  said Espio, kneeling too beside Vector and Charmy. 

“But…I didn’t listen to you and I got infected. I…I just wanted to help.” Charmy’s eyes welled in tears, on the edge to start to cry. Vector comforted him, hugging him and patting his fluffy head.  

“Kid, you have a good heart and you thought about what was right at that moment, like us…” Vector pause and glance over Espio. 

“We all did our best to do what was right. It wasn’t anyone's fault, we did the best we could. Let’s be grateful that Sonic and Silver fixed everything and we were reunited once more” He pulled Espio into a big family hug, he squeezed his two boys closer to him. Espio hesitated but he warmed up and hugged Vector back, couldn’t hold but to sob into his arms.

  “WAAA, I LOVEE YA PAPAAA” Charmy hugged back crying along Espio and Vector.

“I love ya boy’s too. Never forget that.” They stayed in that position for a while just comforting one another, feeling safe in each one's arms. Vector chuckled as he cleaned his tears “Ya know, I think we deserve some time off. What you boys think of a one week vacation, just the three of us. No case, no work, no dangerous missions, just a calm family road trip. Eh? Seem nice, no?” 

Charmy seems to like the idea. “A road trip!? yes yes yes!!” As for Espio, he was skeptical. “But what about the rent?” 

“Aah, we can worry about that later. Come’n Es! Let’s take a small vacation  and enjoy some quality time together.” Vector tried to cheer up the chameleon. Espio thought for a moment. A small vacation would be nice, though he knew this could catch up with them with the rent but as Vector said, they could worry about that later. 

“Hmmh, a road trip does sound nice.” Espio smile warmly. 

“Then road trip it is!” Vector said with excitement. “Well plan out everything for tomorrow, I think we should all go to bed now.” 

Espio and Charmy agreed. Vector carried Charmy and took him to his bed to tag him in bed. Charmy fell asleep very fast, all that crying made him very tired. After Vector had tagged Charmy to bed, Espio went up to him and touched his shoulder. 

“Vector.”

“Hmmh? Yes, Espio?” Vector glance down to look at the chameleon.

“I would like to apologize for earlier. I don’t wanna lose you again, dad.”

Vector eyes widen hearing Espio calling him dad, sure Charmy calls him by that but it’s sure was heartwarming for him to hear Espio say it too. Vector raises his hand and places it on his head to pat him. 

“It's alright kiddo. You just need to get some steam off, that's all. Don’t worry, you ain’t getting rid of me that easily, haha.” the detective playfully chuckles, lighting up the mode. Espio also chuckled slightly too. 

“Hmm, thanks.” Espio gave another hug of appreciation to Vector, which he gladly accepted and embraced.  

“Com'n, lets go to bed.” 

The team Chaotix slept together that night. Vector lay in bed snoring, having Charmy on top of him and Espio beside him. All sleeping peacefully together, enjoying each other's company and warmth. 

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Thank you for reading!!♡♡

[alabasterwasps]

Alex Kralie's Glass Fireflies, an student thesis film.

——

It was his sophomore year of college when Marble Hornets had debuted, it was a rookie student film, but one that got him a good grade and into his advanced classes. His junior year rolled to a close and he was given a summer project, his student thesis project, due by the end of his senior year. Ultimately he decided to make a film in universe with Marble Hornets, something better, something using the skills he learned. It’d be great. It was supposed to be for fun. It was supposed to be dipping a toe into the world of film, a summer project he would finish up when school rolled around.

Something happened to Tim that summer, something no one had answers to. He stated to recluse, and he stepped away from the project.

Alex ran into a lot issues, corrupted footage and broken cameras. There were other issues of missing tapes, but he powered through and released the film just in time for graduation.

They celebrated, inviting Tim but with no answer.

It was a week before graduation that things went downhill.

First it was Jessica, who’d suddenly stopped answering calls, missing. Amy had gone looking for her friend naturally. Amy never came home. Alex followed her location on his phone, only to have a run in with none other than Tim.

Then, like a chain reaction, Jay had went in search of Alex, also having a very unfortunate run in with Tim.

Over the summer, Tim had a very personal encounter with the Operator, one which left “Masky”, a protective alter, rendered dormant. Masky is known to hold onto injury and pain much longer than Tim, and ever since this incident he is nowhere to be found, leaving Tim effectively without his shield. For the next several months he’s visited by the Operator, over and over again like he had been in the institution, except no one was here to save him. It was his fault, this thing. That’s what he’d told himself. When he’d seen the corruption of Alex’s film, he knew he’d done something awful, and he had to stop it, stop it from spreading, stop it from infecting others. He’d starve the fever, then stop the source.

Alex had woken up in the hospital the morning of his graduation, with no recollection of the previous night. Jay was gone, Amy was gone, Jessica was gone. Jessica and Amy were missing, no evidence of where they may have gone. Supposedly, in a woods not far from a local school there had been a spent bullet casing and blood tracing back to Jay Merrick. With no sign of a body, he was deemed missing but deceased.

After his funeral, Alex moved out of town, with little word to his remaining friend, Brian. He had to get away from everything he’d lost.

It was Brian, years later, who decided to look further into his friend’s disappearances, into how odd Tim had been. He played detective, documenting his findings with video and photo so he could try to find answers.

At first, Tim was cooperative, but his stories didn’t always add up. Brian still followed, taking note of weirder things going on. Corrupted footage, burned photos, something deeper was at play. The Operator, two strange masked men, and still no answers about Jessica or Amy or even Jay.

[kineyoart]

Jake the Comic Artist

Case №478-23

Status: Open

Incident Date: November 25, 2006

Location: Dunwich Suburb, Brahams, 566 Starview Road

Suspect: Unknown (Codename "Jake the Comic Artist")

Weapon: Hockey stick

Officer on Scene: Detective Dane Murphy

CIRCUMSTANCES OF THE INCIDENT

At 2:37 A.M., a 911 call was received from Lakelyn J. Waverly, age 14. She reported that someone was breaking into the window of the house next door.

Upon arrival, officers discovered Dwight Riley, age 17, unconscious, as well as the deceased body of Cody Marshall.

The victim was found inside a running washing machine. His body displayed numerous bruises and contusions, multiple broken bones, and a crushed skull. Before being placed in the washing machine, Cody had been severely beaten with a long wooden object, possibly a hockey stick with metal reinforcements (as seen in surveillance footage from Overlott Plaza) or a baseball bat.

A piece of paper was found inside the victim’s mouth. Upon examination, it was revealed to be a comic strip drawn in the distinctive style of the known killer codenamed "Jake the Comic Artist". The strip depicted the main character (presumably Cody Marshall) being beaten with a hockey stick by a figure in an orange beanie, before being stuffed into a washing machine.

WITNESS STATEMENTS

Dwight Riley, 17 years old:

"They just asked me to babysit him. That’s it. Cody’s parents went out to see a movie, and my only job was to take care of that little brat. This is my fault. He died because of me."

"It all started with pets. Some psycho in our neighborhood began beating dogs and cats to death. We reported it to the police, but they just shrugged it off. So my friends and I decided to catch the bastard ourselves."

"We got some mutt from a shelter. We weren’t monsters, okay? Nothing was supposed to happen to the dog. We were supposed to catch that freak before anything bad happened."

"Days went by. The dog stayed with me—we named him Chips. I took care of him the best I could, but at night, we left him outside and kept watch."

"Then I started finding weird drawings in my house. That psycho was sneaking in and hiding them everywhere to mess with me! They were comics, and every single one showed me dying. Then it got worse—first, it was small bones. Then one day, I found a finger. I swear, it was Tatum Beauregard’s finger. She disappeared six months ago. I wanted to take it to the police, but the day I finally decided to, the finger just… vanished."

"Then came the nightmares. My parents started sending me to shrinks, stuffing me with pills. And then the Marshalls—our neighbors across the street—asked me to babysit their kid while they were away. I don’t usually do babysitting, but buying Chips hit my wallet hard, so I agreed."

"Everything was fine until midnight. I fed Cody, we watched some TV. He fell asleep, so I left him on the couch in the living room. Then I went to the kitchen and saw someone outside the window. It was a guy in an orange beanie—I think… I think it was pulled down over his face, but he had holes cut for the eyes. He was wearing a lilac hoodie and had something slung over his back… some kind of stick, maybe a hockey stick. He was just standing there, staring at the house. At first, I was scared, but he didn’t do anything, and then he was just… gone."

"I went to bed in the guest room Mr. and Mrs. Marshall set up for me, on the second floor. I woke up because someone was beating me. Then I guess I blacked out, and when I came to, the cops were already here."

Lakelyn Joelle Waverly, 14 years old:

"I just saw someone climb through the Marshalls’ window from my bedroom. I knew Dwight was babysitting Cody that night, so I called his cellphone right away, but he didn’t answer—probably already asleep. So I dialed 911 and reported the break-in."

"Why didn’t I babysit Cody instead of Dwight? Simple. The Marshalls asked me first, but I turned them down."

EVIDENCE ANALYSIS

The Drawing:

A comic strip was found inside Cody Marshall’s mouth. The drawing was detailed and precise. Since only eight minutes had passed between the 911 call and the officers’ arrival, there wasn’t enough time for the killer to draw something this intricate on the spot. This suggests the murder was premeditated, and the victim was chosen before the killer even entered the house.

The Signature:

A red graffiti signature was found on the washing machine, reading "Jake the Comic Artist". This matches the name previously linked to the Overlott Plaza Massacre.

Lack of Fingerprints:

The killer was meticulous in erasing evidence. No fingerprints (other than those of Dwight Riley, Cody, and Cody’s parents, Elijah and Mary-Doth Marshall) were found on the window, comic strips, or anywhere else at the scene.

According to witness Lakelyn J. Waverly, the suspect was not wearing gloves, meaning he deliberately wiped away his prints after committing the crime.

PROFILE OF THE SUSPECT

Based on the nature of the crime and eyewitness descriptions, it is believed that Cody Marshall was murdered by the serial killer known as "Jake the Comic Artist.

Suspect Description:

White male, approximately 19-22 years old

Slim build

Wears an orange beanie with eye holes, a lilac hoodie, and torn pants

Carries a hockey stick (used as a weapon)

This suspect is likely responsible for the murders of four workers at Overlott Plaza, who were also beaten to death, and each had a comic drawing in their mouths.

Unconfirmed reports suggest he may be linked to the disappearances of multiple pets in the Dunwich suburbs.

CONCLUSION

The identity and whereabouts of the killer remain unknown. Increased police patrols in the suburbs are recommended.

A recording of Cody Marshall’s 911 call has been attached to the case file.

Possible escalation to the Federal Bureau of Investigation under consideration.

Detective Dane Murphy

Brahams Police Department 

[pancake-breakfast]

On to my next companion character write-up for Dragon Age: The Veilguard:

Neve Gallus

(These are just me talking about each of the companion characters, my impressions of them, what I liked/didn't like with their stories, etc. I'm writing them in the order I recruited the companions. Master post with other companion essays can be found here.)

Warning: Spoilers below the break....

ALSO WORTH NOTING: I took the Treviso route.

Neve is the first "new" companion DA vets meet, and I liked her from the start. Practical, calculated, and determined, she immediately feels like a commanding presence. The first thing we're told about her is that she's a very capable investigator, and it's only shortly thereafter that we're shown this is hardly just talk. She might be a Tevinter mage (and a capable one at that), but she's defined not by her magic but by her investigative skills. She's known throughout the city not because she's a skilled mage, but because she's a skilled detective who genuinely cares about the people of Dock Town.

She initially comes off as distant, friendly enough to be easy for others to open up to, but fairly closed off herself. It almost seems like the ice magic she wields suits her... but even if you don't help out Minrathous against the dragon, she gradually opens up. She's logical enough to know it's not your fault even if something inside her still blames you, and she recognizes it's her job to find a place for those emotions rather than your job to do penance... even if she never gets around to healing you again.

I don't think I'd call Neve "warm," but she's welcoming in her own way, and she cares a great deal about those around her. In my previous post where I noted all the companions having messy brains, I noted she has anxiety-fueled OCD, and I stand by that. It's not so much the outward ritual type of OCD as it is the one in her brain, the one that compels her to keep people from getting too close, and as her story plays out, we realize this isn't so much for fear of her own safety, but for fear for theirs.

Neve isn't afraid of danger or getting hurt. Losing her leg didn't stop her, and there are several points where you get disapproval points for not letting her take the more risky of the operations. But losing those dear to her on the job left its marks. I called it anxiety, but it's worth noting that anxiety is fueled by past trauma. She's seen exactly how wrong things can go first-hand, and while it doesn't make her care about people less, it does make her constantly question how her actions might put those around her at risk.

The first quest you get with Neve is wonderfully executed. It does an excellent job of not only allowing you to get to know her a bit better, but allowing you to get to know Dock Town, as well. It serves a practical purpose of showing you where things are while also building the connection between Neve and this location. While it still wasn't enough for me to particularly care about Dock Town getting attacked by a dragon (They have magical death lasers. I will not be held responsible for their inability to take down a dragon with those.), it did manage to impress upon me how important the place was to Neve. If I had intended to romance her, I don't think I could have turned my back on the city so easily. It clearly means too much to her for me to dare risk that.

I think her story quests have some of the best build-up of any of the companion quests. Aelia's name comes up fairly early, and from there it's this slow hunt to try and root her out. That gives the story time to build, and while the questline unfortunately fell a bit flat for me in terms of convincing me Aelia was as dangerous a villain as, say, Zara, it absolutely allowed me to understand more about Neve. It's during this quest's gradual unfolding that you learn about Neve's personal regrets and her deep-seated fear about repeating the same mistake, even if the outcomes are not truly her fault.

The only part of Neve's quest I really struggled with was the very end of the finale. As we go to confront Aelia, we see some NPCs we know Neve cares about being manipulated via blood magic by Aelia, but it's very unclear what their purpose is aside from just to upset Neve. The final fight doesn't make use of them, or of any other captured NPCs. Aelia is clearly excited about the possibility of ruling Dock Town and Minrathous, and while she definitely feels like the type we're warned will be lured in by the Evanuris, her tie to them feels more practical than horrifying. It's almost like (she at least thinks) she's negotiating with them on equal terms... and she might as well be, given how little they seem to be directly manipulating her, or inclined to punish her for falling short, or even leeching off of what she's doing.

In addition, it's never really built up why allying with the Threads at any point in the mission might be worse than, say, allowing the Venatori to stay in power. I realize this might be a bit different if I saved Minrathous, but the Threads are like the mob; they protect their own, and if you're in their territory, you just don't go certain places at night. That might actually be better than having the government "look after" Dock Town, since it seems clear that, aside from Dorian (and probably the Viper, but he barely featured in my playthrough), very little thought is given to this region by the people in power. It would be one thing if it was clear that the Shadow Dragons would maintain the city if their numbers hadn't been decimated by the Venatori uprising, but it seems the other option would have been the templars. You know, those guys who have spent at least as much time obstructing justice because a mage paid them enough as they have enforcing it. That doesn't really sound like the better deal to me, even if I like the particular templar we were working with.

I do kinda wish I had made Neve work on the wards in the endgame. Not because I think she's more qualified than Bellara, but because it was hardly the first choice I'd made that had ended up going badly for her (I also chose her to come with me and get all scarred up in the intro quest), which would have actually made her Prison of Regret self's accusations hit harder for me, personally, and because a hardened Neve would have felt more forceful against Elgar'nan. But that one's on me.

At any rate, I hope she and I can have a better relationship in at least one future playthrough. (I'll probably still save Treviso most of the time because Treviso doesn't have magic death lasers.) Maybe I'll even romance her. We'll see....

[luxe-pauvre]

Creativity, communication, copying, and cooperation - four of the five Cs - arose with genetic changes that gave our species a big, complex brain. But large brain size and high complexity are not enough to make and maintain social reality. You also need the fifth C, compression, an intricate ability that humans have to a degree not found in any other animal brain. I'll explain compression first by analogy. Imagine that you are a police detective investigating a crime by interviewing witnesses. You hear one witness's story, then another's, and so on, until you've interviewed twenty witnesses. Some of the stories have similarities - the same people involved or the same crime location. Some stories also have differences - who was at fault or what colour the getaway car was. From this collection of stories, you can trim down the repetitive parts to create a summary of how the events might have occurred. Later, when the police chief asks you what happened, you can relay that summary efficiently. A similar thing transpires among neurons in your brain. You might have a single, large neuron (the detective) receiving signals from umpteen little neurons at once (the witnesses) which are firing at various rates. The large neuron doesn't represent all of the signals from the smaller neurons. It summarises them, or compresses them, by reducing redundancy. After compression, the large neuron can efficiently pass that summary to other neurons. […] Okay, your brain can make a big, fat, compressed summary of summaries of summaries. What does this have to do with social reality? Well, compression makes it possible for your brain to think abstractly, and abstraction, together with the rest of the Five Cs, empowers your large, complex brain to create social reality. […] The psychological meaning of abstraction, though, has a different focus. It's not about the details of paintings and symbols; it's about our ability to perceive meaning in them. Specifically, we have the capacity to see things in terms of their function, not just their physical form. Abstraction lets you view objects that look nothing alike - such as a bottle of wine, a bouquet of flowers, and a gold wristwatch - and understand them all as "gifts that celebrate an achievement." Your brain compresses away the physical differences of these objects and in the process, you understand that they have a similar function.

Lisa Feldman Barrett, Seven and a Half Lessons About the Brain