The air in the Narrows was colder than usual, the wind cutting through the crumbling alleyways like a knife. Taylor adjusted the scarf around her masked lower face, fingers tightening around the grip of her baton as she moved through familiar streets, eyes constantly scanning for trouble.
H...
2025-02-04 12:05:51 +0000 UTC View PostThe stories spread like wildfire.
A monster in the heart of the continent. A nightmare of flesh and shadow that walked like a man but devoured parahumans like an animal. Villages wiped off the map. Entire generations erased in a single attack.
Survivors—what few there were—spoke i...
2025-02-03 12:32:32 +0000 UTC View PostThe lunch crowd had settled in, filling the diner with the steady hum of conversation and the clatter of silverware against plates. Contessa stood near the entrance, studying the seating arrangements.
A couple occupied the corner booth, sitting side by side instead of across from each other...
2025-02-03 12:22:11 +0000 UTC View PostThe lunch rush had died down, leaving the diner in a comfortable lull of clinking silverware and quiet conversation. Contessa wiped down the counter with efficient, mechanical movements.
Dennis, the cook, leaned on the pass-through window, smirking. “Hey, Contessa, got a joke for you.”<...
2025-02-02 07:28:02 +0000 UTC View PostSomething was wrong.
Taylor had spent the past few nights on patrol, listening, watching. She had expected the gang war to keep escalating in the usual way—more shootouts, more turf grabs, more bodies in the alleys. But this wasn’t just street-level posturing anymore. The violence...
2025-02-01 10:08:16 +0000 UTC View PostThe Narrows had taught Taylor a lot over the past few months—how to move unseen, how to fight without powers, how to build something out of nothing. But it had also exposed her weaknesses.
She had always prided herself on being resourceful and adaptable, but she had never realized how muc...
2025-02-01 08:47:44 +0000 UTC View PostThe man at the counter had been sitting in the same spot for exactly forty-two minutes and seventeen seconds.
In that time, he had done the following:
– Ordered a black coffee.
– Drank precisely half of it.
– Grunted in response to Maggie’s greeting.
– Star...
2025-01-30 21:43:13 +0000 UTC View PostThe diner’s morning rush came and went, leaving behind the usual aftermath—crumbs on the tables, spilt coffee on the counter, the faint scent of burnt toast hanging in the air. Contessa wiped down a booth with practised ease, her movements precise and methodical.
Task complete.
...
2025-01-30 19:03:02 +0000 UTC View PostThe Narrows had never been safe, but now it felt like a battlefield.
Taylor stood on the rooftop of a dilapidated apartment building, her gaze sweeping across the streets below. Shadows stretched long in the dying light, but even in the dim glow of flickering street lamps, she could see the...
2025-01-30 07:55:49 +0000 UTC View PostThe reason why updates are slowed for The Brave And The Bat is that I have a beta reader, and I'm trying to get them caught up with me. I apologise for any inconvenience this causes; I will be back with regular updates soon.
2025-01-30 05:24:40 +0000 UTC View PostAsh hung heavy in the air.
No. 9 crouched low in the grass, his glowing eyes reflecting the distant flames licking at the night sky. This settlement was different from the others. He could feel it even from afar. Sprawled across a charred plain, its structures were a crude patchwork of scor...
2025-01-29 22:11:15 +0000 UTC View PostIn the meantime, the following fanfiction will only be available for selected tiers—Story Enthusiast, Literary Partner, and Commissions (10k-words):
- Contessa Doesn’t Understand: Updates every day.
- Kaiju No. 9: Updates every three days.
- Greg Meets RWBY: Two chapters eve...
2025-01-29 06:15:40 +0000 UTC View PostThe plan was simple.
Find a town—somewhere small but not suffocating, quiet but not isolated. Get a job, something low-maintenance, preferably with little social interaction. Settle into a routine. No grand schemes, no world-ending stakes. Just… existence.
It wasn’t wasn’t a d...
2025-01-29 06:00:21 +0000 UTC View PostTaylor crouched behind the razor wire topped chain-link fence that surrounded the abandoned factory in Gotham’s Industrial District, her breath steady despite the cold bite of night air off the Atlantic. Rusted smokestacks jutted into the sky, their surfaces streaked with grime. From her positi...
2025-01-28 10:43:50 +0000 UTC View PostTaylor sat cross-legged on the floor of her room, the malfunctioning device from Penguin’s warehouse laid out carefully on a tattered blanket in front of her. The cylindrical device looked innocuous enough, but the faint scorch marks on its exterior and the warped metal casing hinted at the raw...
2025-01-26 14:01:39 +0000 UTC View PostThe stars above glittered coldly as No. 9 prowled silently through the savannah, his massive frame strangely graceful for its size as his claws traced faint furrows in the dry earth, his predatory focus locked on the distant glow of torchlight. Another settlement.
His body was no longer in ...
2025-01-26 07:28:01 +0000 UTC View PostNo. 9 emerged from the rift with a low growl, his massive frame slamming into unfamiliar ground. Dust billowed around him as he staggered to his feet, his claws digging into the soil for support, his body trembling under the weight of his injuries.
His adaptive biology was working overtime...
2025-01-26 07:26:39 +0000 UTC View PostIn one of his dimly lit offices, Oz Cobb—better known as the Penguin—sat behind his polished mahogany desk, a thick cigar clenched between his teeth. Smoke curled lazily through the air, mingling with the amber glow of the desk lamp, which cast shadows across the room’s lavish decor—velve...
2025-01-24 20:35:07 +0000 UTC View Post
The warehouse was an unassuming structure on the docks, one of many rusted buildings lining the Dixon Docks on the Gotham River. At a glanc...
2025-01-24 07:29:57 +0000 UTC View PostThe Narrows never truly slept. Even in the dead of night, the faint hum of activity echoed through its winding alleys. Conversations murmured through cracked windows, distant arguments rose and fell, footsteps darted through shadows, and garbage fires burned in rusted barrels. For Taylor, these s...
2025-01-24 05:40:47 +0000 UTC View PostGreg shuffled nervously through the clearing in the woods behind Winslow High, his sneakers scuffing the ground as he glanced over his shoulder for the hundredth time. The quiet rustle of leaves wasn't comforting. If anything, it made him even more paranoid. However, once he was sure no one had f...
2025-01-22 11:51:55 +0000 UTC View PostArc one of The Brave and The Bug is done, so while I work on getting the second arc ready, I have a lot of free time on my hands. I'll try to complete Why Am I A Slime?—an underrated story I want everyone to go read—along with Greg Meets RWBY, but it will be slow-going. BUT that stil...
2025-01-21 08:58:18 +0000 UTC View PostThe dojo buzzed with quiet energy as Taylor stepped onto the worn mats, her muscles still sore from the previous day’s session. She knew she shouldn’t be training every day—Ted had even mentioned it once—but the aches in her muscles healed faster than normal. Or was she imagining it? Eith...
2025-01-21 08:46:12 +0000 UTC View PostIt started with rumors—whispers of a growing conflict between Penguin and Black Mask, two of Gotham’s most notorious crime lords. Their rivalry wasn’t new, but this time, the stakes seemed higher. Smaller gangs were being absorbed or eliminated, their territories swallowed up in the escalat...
2025-01-21 04:56:01 +0000 UTC View PostGreg woke up to the sound of bickering.
"Honestly, Ruby, could you not swing Crescent Rose around in someone else's mental space?"
"It's not like I meant to hit anything, Weiss! Besides, the brain's pretty empty. Lots of room!"
Greg groaned, squinting against the mor...
The rhythmic sound of fists striking a heavy bag echoed through Grant’s Gym, each impact sending a faint shudder through the worn-down equipment. Taylor worked through the repetitive motions, her fists wrapped in fraying tape, sweat dripping down her brow as she struggled to maintain her form.<...
2025-01-20 08:50:43 +0000 UTC View PostGreg Veder was having what he could only describe as the worst day of his life, and considering his usual streak of social disasters and unrelenting mediocrity, that was saying something.
It had started normally enough. A quick stop at a corner store on his way home from school. Chips, a s...
The small dojo was easy to miss, tucked between a shuttered laundromat and a pawn shop with a broken neon sign. The faded wooden sign above the entrance read Grant’s Gym, the letters barely visible against the peeling paint. The building didn’t look like much—bricks blacken...
2025-01-18 10:22:52 +0000 UTC View PostThe sounds of the Narrows were a constant backdrop as Taylor sat cross-legged on the cold floor of the small room Marla had let her use. It was spartan—just a threadbare mattress on the floor, a chipped nightstand, and a cracked window letting in a cold draft, lit only by the dim light of the m...
2025-01-17 11:22:00 +0000 UTC View PostTaylor had spent the past week slowly becoming part of the community here, a mix of families, single parents, and people who had nowhere else to go, all banding together to survive in the Narrows. The people were suspicious at first, especially Marla, the stern older woman who had reluctantly tak...
2025-01-16 18:24:58 +0000 UTC View Post