#I've been obsessed with this song recently for some reason

[youling-the-ghost]

To the editors of the sfth fandom, I have an edit idea for y'all: Fluorescent Adolescent with Jemima Steven.

(don't mind how weird the music video is, I don't really get it either)

Seriously, maybe it's just me but I feel like the lyrics fit her (or at least my interpretation of her) so well.

[rosyblooom]

levi's jeans | ln4 smau

PAIRING: lando norris x fem quadrant!reader SUMMARY: y/n loves levi's jeans—it's all she wears, ever. so when lando has to draw her in a quadrant video, that's what he draws: levi's jeans. a bad attempt at flirting? maybe, but it gets the ball rolling. A/N: been listening to 'levii's jeans' 24/7 since the album dropped omg

Youtube - Quadrant

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yourusername

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tagged: landonorris

yourusername happy now??? i don't only wear levi's jeans see😌

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username the lando tag??? lmao his drawing is still on her mind💀

username no but the way I didn't even question it when he drew jeans for y/n lool username @/levis I found yall's next collab partner

landonorris Why'd you tag me in this 🤣

yourusername u drew the jeans🙄 username ...how about u guys kiss and makeup hmm?😏

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username babe me too username me three 🙋‍♂️ username i've been thinking little lando has a crush👀 it was soo obvious in the yt vid

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landonorris posted to his story!

[ caption: New Quadrant video out now!! Swipe up to watch ]

Youtube - Quadrant

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landonorris posted to his story!

[ caption: 👖 ]

[ tagged: yourusername ]

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yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: let's ride 🏍️ ]

[ tagged: landonorris ]

f1gossipofficial

liked by username, username, username and 12,400 others

f1gossipofficial After two months of being spotted together numerous times in London and Monaco, and stirring up dating rumours, Lando Norris and fellow Quadrant member Y/N L/N were recently seen off the coast of Spain, soaking up the sun and looking pretty cosy.

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username it's already been 2 months??? omg can they just say yes or no i'm tired😩

username can yall not read the room? look at the pics and ask yourself if that's how friend act pls username they've been friends for ages before that, it makes sense not to rush into anything tbh

username OMG Y/N'S NOT WEARING JEANS🤩

username cause they're in the ocean??🤣 username a win is a win idc !!

username noo i hope they're just friends😭💔

username they're both so hot omfg

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yourusername so happy to announce my levi's x y/n collab that's coming out next week friday!!😭 as everyone probably knows (and is sick of lol) i love me some levi's, so this collection has been soo much fun to work on and i'm very excited for you guys to see it!!🤍❤️💙

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riabish soo proud of you 🩷

yourusername ily🥹❤️

username nobody deserved this more than you y/n!! we will be buying !!

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username @/yourusername quickly what's ur fav song on cowboy carter??

yourusername levii's jeans ofc😌 username love that for you girl!

landonorris

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landonorris Never getting sick of your levi's jeans obsession🤣 So proud of you baby ❤️👖

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username took yall long enough🤧

yourusername 🩷🩷

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username i love you y/n🥰

yourusername u guys better not make that stupid emoji trend again istg😐

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3:35 ─────────ㅇ─── 4:17

[yannawayne]

vi. what's up danger?

SYNOPSIS: "Alright, let's do this one last time. My name is Y/N Kyle. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, And I've been the one and only Spidey in Gotham. I’m pretty sure you know the rest." PAIRING: Older! Damian Wayne/Fem! Reader TAGS: Established relationship, Wounds, Violence, Surgical procedures, Panic Attacks, Arguments AO3: yenwayne SERIES LINK: gotham's only spidey

<- PREVIOUS | NEXT ->

NOTE: THIS IS PART 6. I POSTED 2 CHAPTERS TODAY! PART 5 IS HERE

 ༻⊰───⋅

"No sign of activity. Just monitoring. Slow night."

"Figured," Nightwing's voice spoke up. "There is a storm."

“Ishth Gotham,” Jason's voice chimed in, muffled as if he was chewing something. “When isn’t there a storm?”

"Are you eating right now?" Tim's voice squeaked with disbelief, the sound sharp and incredulous over the comms. "Again? Really?"

"Yeah?" Jason retorted, taking another bite of whatever he was munching on. "A guy's gotta eat. Maybe if you actually ate more, you wouldn’t be so scrawny, Timberland."

"I'm fit!" Tim snapped back, voice cracking. "And can you please stop using my name? We have codenames for a reason."

"You're the genius who called yourself 'Drake'."

 ༻⊰───⋅

Friday, 8:35 AM - Gotham Academy, Gotham City.

The halls of Gotham Academy buzzed with the usual chatter and laughter—a total disconnect from the storm of nerves brewing inside you. You zigzagged through the crowd, your trusty, battle-worn Converse scuffing against the linoleum. Damian’s varsity jacket hung over your uniform, the hood pulled low to hide the cuts on your face.

Morgan had ditched you at the entrance, probably off to plot some mad science in the labs. Not exactly your idea of fun, so you opted for aimless wandering instead.

And if I only could I'd make a deal with God.  And I'd get Him to swap our places.  Be runnin' up that road.  Be runnin' up that hill  Be runnin' up that building. 

Your headphones were snug, the music offering a temporary refuge as you walked, your head instinctively nodding to the beat. Even with the volume cranked up, you couldn’t shake the awareness of every shift in the crowd, the way the jacket rubbed against your sore muscles, or the stiffness in your back and arm from the muscle tear. Concerned whispers drifted past you, catching on the currents of passing conversations, but you kept moving, trying to lose yourself in the rhythm of the song.

When you reached Damian’s locker, you leaned against it, letting the cool metal soothe your aching back. You adjusted the hood of his jacket, tugging it further down to hide the cuts around your face. With your free hand, you quickly typed out a message to Damian, your fingers flying over the screen, each tap a small burst of nervous energy.

You:

"At your locker."

You hit send, slipped your phone back into your pocket, then immediately pulled it out again. This time, you opened Twitter, your thumb instinctively scrolling through your feed for any updates on the recent incident.

Tweets about the attack were already trending, paired with blurry photos and clickbait headlines. You cringed as fan accounts for #Nightcrawler started flooding in. It was wild how fast the public’s attention could flip from genuine concern to a full-blown obsession with the latest hero—or villain. 

You sighed, the tension in your shoulders building as you scrolled through the flood of posts.

“Beloved?”

A tanned hand brushed gently against your arm, followed by the sight of polished brown dress shoes stepping into view.

“Dami,” you murmured with a relieved smile, leaning into his hold, your head still bowed.

Damian instinctively pulled you into a hug, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. The embrace was firm but careful, as if he feared you might break under too much pressure. He could feel the stiffness in your muscles, your body wound tight with unspoken tension. His eyes narrowed with concern, but he stayed silent, letting the quiet speak for both of you.

His gaze flicked to your phone screen, catching sight of the trending tweets.

“Nightcrawler…” Damian murmured, and you lifted your head just enough to meet his eyes.

Sighing, you shifted so your cheek rested against his chest, the cool scent of his cologne grounding you. You kept scrolling, clicking on a particularly cringeworthy tweet and wincing at the fanatical comments.

“Can you believe these people?” you murmured, frustration seeping into your voice. “It’s insane.”

Sometimes you wondered how Damian and his brothers dealt with all the fanatics, the constant drooling over their hero personas—or even their civilian lives.

Damian’s grip tightened as he held you closer, his brow furrowing in disapproval as he read the tweets over your shoulder.

Repulsive. To him, it was a grotesque spectacle. The media had managed to paint the Spider into a celebrated hero, a figure of admiration, when in reality, the person behind that mask was nothing more than a monster, cloaked in deception and false heroism.

“They’re utterly obsessed,” Damian scoffed. “It’s as if they’ve completely forgotten there’s a real person behind that mask.”

“I know, right?” You sighed, closing Twitter and slipping your phone back into your pocket. “Like, I really don’t want to see those posts. They’re just—so much.”

Damian noticed your distress and instinctively started rubbing soothing circles on your back. But as his hand moved, a sharp muscle spasm seized your shoulder. You cursed, a wince escaping you as the sensation left you momentarily frozen. It felt as if someone had taken a wrench to your shoulder, yanking and twisting until every fiber protested in sharp, jarring bursts. 

Damian’s hand froze.

Muscle tear. He realized.

Without a word, he guided you gently into a nearby janitor’s closet. The door clicked shut behind you, cutting off the noise of the bustling hallway and granting you both some much-needed privacy. 

Inside, he carefully placed his hand on your elbow and began to stretch the affected muscle. You winced as a sharp twinge of pain flared, but Damian’s voice was soft and soothing.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple,  offering a small but comforting distraction from the pain.

Gradually, the pain eased, and you let out a sigh of relief. Your shoulders relaxed, the tight knots unwinding.

"I love you and your weird Robin skills," you said with a grateful smile, rolling your shoulders and feeling the tension dissipate.

Damian’s lips twitched into a faint, approving smile, though his voice remained gruff. “Love you too.”

He continued to watch you with a keen, sharp gaze, noticing the hood of your hoodie pulled up. His eyes traced the shadowy outline of your face, and he realized he hadn’t seen it clearly. His expression shifted to one of concern, a frown creasing his brow.

“Why haven’t you taken your hood down?” he asked quietly, his voice low and probing.

You pursed your lips, trying to edge toward the exit. But before you could make a clean getaway, Damian’s hand shot out, gripping your arm and yanking you back into him. You collided with his chest, and for a second, it felt like you’d just hugged a brick wall in a hoodie.

“And where do you think you’re going?” 

“Uh, nowhere, apparently,” you sighed, realizing escape wasn’t in the cards today.

“Look. I just didn’t want to get my hair messed up,” you continued, trying to sound casual, but the words felt hollow in the small, enclosed space.

“Oh yeah…?” Damian murmured in disbelief, his voice thick with something darker. His eyes narrowed, and without warning, he bent down to your height, his rough fingers sliding up your jacket. You felt the fabric shift and the warmth of his hand against your side.

You swallowed hard, your hands instinctively bracing against his shoulders. Your nails dug into the fabric of his uniform as you tried to push him back.

“Pull the hood off,” he demanded, his hands working insistently to tug it up. You sputtered out protests, swatting at his hands, but Damian was relentless. “Habibti, let me see! Pull it up—let me see!”

Your grip on the hood tightened, your knuckles going white as you held on for dear life. But Damian’s concern bulldozed through any resistance you put up. He mumbled curses, and suddenly shifted tactics. Bending down, his hands slid under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly. He pinned you against the wall, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as your weight pressed into his hips.

"Damian, stop!" you groaned, trying to push him away.

But he ignored your plea, yanking the hood off. His eyes widened in shock as he took in the full extent of your injuries. Cuts and bandages marred your face, some fresh, others scabbing over. Dark bruises colored your cheek, spreading out like ominous clouds.

“Who did this to you?” he demanded, even though he was already cursing a certain spider vigilante in his head. Damian dipped his head low, his dangerous glare cutting through you. “Tell me who hurt you, and I’ll make them pay.”

“Baby, you’re being melodramatic. It’s just a few bruises,” you deflected, avoiding his gaze. “I’ll survive.”

“Plus, it’s not like you can just go around punching everyone who hurts me,” you huffed, wincing as you tried to pull your hood back up. Damian scowled and yanked it down again.

“Yes, I can.”

“Oh my god,” you said, raising an eyebrow and trying to stifle a smile. “I hate you so much.”

Damian tightened his hold, his eyes flashing with irritation. “Our relationship status says otherwise. And I’m not letting go until I get answers.”

You squirmed in his embrace, attempting to free yourself, but he held you tightly. “Seriously, let go.”

“No.”

“You’re going to miss your first period.”

“And?”

“Your education will be in ruins.”

“Beloved, my GPA is already at a 5.0. I’ve been at the top of my class since junior high. Missing one period won’t ruin my future.”

You groaned and grabbed the nearest object—a mop. Raising it in a mock-threatening manner, you declared, “I’m seriously considering hitting you with this until you let me go.”

Damian gave a flat “Tch,” raising a hand to the metal handle. With a casual squeeze, he bent the metal in half effortlessly. You blinked.

Okay, that's a little annoying, but also super, super, super hot.

“Seriously? You’re showing off now?” you huffed, crossing your arms.

“Showing off?” Damian arched an eyebrow. “I’m merely proving a point.”

“I can handle myself!” you insisted, frustration creeping into your voice.

“Clearly,” he shot back, eyes narrowing. “That’s why you’re covered in cuts and bruises.”

“Fuck you,” you snapped, your irritation bubbling over.

“I would be delighted to,” Damian replied, his tone dripping with syrupy sweetness that was equal parts enticing and infuriating.

"Ugh!" you groaned, pulling the hood back over your face in a futile attempt to hide.

“Drop the theatrics and tell me what happened,” he sighed, tugging the hood back down. “I need to know so I can handle it.”

“I already handled it! I just need some rest, okay?” you retorted, rubbing a hand over your tired eyes. "I can fight my own battles, thank you very much."

Damian’s jaw tightened at your response, setting off alarm bells in his head. He’d need to dig deeper—because if there was one thing he was certain of, it was that you weren’t giving him the full story.

"You're not telling me everything," he said firmly. "But I’ll find out. I always do."

“Uh-huh, sure," you said, rolling your eyes as you grabbed him by the front of his uniform and yanked him closer. “You’re such a control freak, you know that?”

Damian scowled, leaning in until his forehead pressed against yours. “And you’re impossibly stubborn.”

“Yeah, well, you’re nosy.”

“Nosy?” He raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking. “I prefer the term thorough.”

“Right,” you said, barely holding back a laugh. You shook your head with a smile and leaned in, brushing your lips against his. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, honey.”

Damian’s eyes softened as he closed the distance between you. You melted into him, pulling him into a tender kiss. Damian hummed softly, the vibration tickling your lips and adding a cozy warmth to the moment. He kissed you again, and again, each one a little more affectionate than the last. Your laughter bubbled up, breathy and light, as you both got caught in a playful rhythm. His nose nudged against yours, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

The sudden ringing of the school bell cut through the moment.

“Mmph!” You pulled back slightly, a smile tugging at your lips as you gently stroked his cheek. “You… probably should get to class.”

It took a few more (okay, a lot more) minutes before Damian finally let you go. You practically had to wrestle your way out of his arms, like he was a kid clinging to a favorite toy. When you told him to go back to class instead of tagging along with you and Morgan, he sulked like a toddler.

Despite his stormy mood, you managed to convince him to head back. As you both stepped out of the closet, Damian trudged away with a grumble, throwing one last dramatic look over his shoulder.

“Behave yourself,” you laughed, waving him away before setting off to find Morgan.

When you finally spotted her by the entrance, she was holding up a flash drive like it was the Holy Grail. Meanwhile, you looked like you’d just been through a whirlwind: your hair was a tousled mess, your jacket was askew, and your tie was twisted at an odd angle. 

“Got the goods?” you asked, breathless as you straightened your tie and smoothed down your messy hair.

“Yep,” Morgan said with a grin, her eyes darting to your state of disarray. “Damn. A janitor’s closet, huh? I see it got pretty heated in there.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, scoffing and giving her a kick to the shin. “Nothing happened, you ass. We were just talking. I had to practically wrestle my way out because he was going nuts over my injuries.”

Morgan chuckled, tucking the flash drive into her pocket. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full with him.”

You raised an eyebrow at her. "How did you know it was the janitor’s closet, anyway?"

“CCTV,” Morgan simply shrugged. “Was checking out the live feed for security. And I figured you two were up to something when I saw you both ducking out of the room. The system was laughably easy to hack into. I was honestly surprised.”

“You’re Tony Stark’s daughter,” you snarked. “Anything less than government-level encryption is basically child’s play for you.”

Morgan grinned. “True that. But there’s one tiny issue.” She raised a finger and twirled it in the air. “I might have tripped a few alarms.”

WEE-OWW-WEE-OWW!

The distant blare of sirens cut through the air, growing louder with each passing second. Red and blue lights began to flicker through the windows.

You stared at Morgan, incredulous. 

“What. What the fuck!? What did you do?”

“Let’s just say security’s gonna be a bit more interested in our location now. Oopsie!” Morgan’s grin widened. “I had to shut down some things to avoid detection. So, the power’s going to go out in 3…2…1.”

As she finished her countdown, the lights flickered erratically before plunging the hallway into complete darkness. A heartbeat later, the wail of the announcement system cut through the silence, urgently repeating, “Please evacuate the building. Please evacuate immediately.” The strobing red emergency lights cast frantic shadows, and chaos erupted as students screamed, darting from classrooms and colliding in the dark.

Morgan spread her arms wide, a triumphant grin plastered across her face as if she’d just dropped a mic. “Boom.”

“What the hell about this screams ‘stealth’ to you?” you whisper-shouted, grabbing Morgan’s hand and pulling her toward the exit.

Morgan’s eyes gleamed with excitement as she squeezed your hand in return. "It’s way more fun this way."

You both sprinted down the dimly lit corridor, your footsteps echoing through the hallways and mingling with the blaring alarms.

Turning a corner, you nearly collided with a group of students stumbling through the chaos. Their faces were masks of panic. One of them tripped, sprawling onto the floor with an undignified thud.

“Watch it! Are you okay?” you shouted, skidding to a halt and kneeling to help the fallen student.

Morgan, unable to hold back, burst into laughter. “Dumbasses!”

You shot her a half-angry, half-exasperated look. “Just get us out of here before we get arrested for public disturbance!”

“Right behind you!” Morgan said, grabbing your hand again and pulling you both into a sprint. As you neared the exit, the muffled voices of security personnel grew louder, rushing to restore power. With one last burst of speed, you burst through the exit doors, the alarms fading into the distance.

Morgan looked over at you, her face glowing with sweat and a victorious grin. “And that’s how you make an exit.”

 ༻⊰───⋅

Friday - The Safehouse, Gotham City.

After your adrenaline-pumping escape and a bumpy ride across the city in an Uber that looked like it had seen better days—note to self: next time, cab— you finally made it back to the safehouse.

Morgan was already at the main table, surrounded by a chaotic sea of files and documents spread out across multiple screens. Her eyes were locked onto the flash drive she’d pulled from the school, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she sifted through the data.

A few steps away, you were hunched over a cluttered workbench in the tech area, surrounded by spools of web fluid and a mess of metal tools. The entire day had been spent tinkering, but finally, your whip project was coming together.

With a few final tweaks, you picked up the whip and gave it a few test swings. 

You couldn’t help but think back to when you were a kid, watching Selina work her whip with that effortless skill. You’d sit in the corner of the training room, eyes wide, totally mesmerized. She made it look so easy, so natural. Inspired, you’d sneak off to your room after her sessions, grabbing whatever you could find—a belt, a rope, anything that even remotely resembled a whip. You’d slam the door behind you and practice in secret.

Sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror—awkward, stumbling, and kind of a hot mess—but you didn’t give a damn. You’d keep at it, again and again, dead set on matching her skill, even if it meant looking like a total idiot in the process.

CRACK!

Morgan jumped, her chair spinning around as she stared at you with wide eyes. You couldn't help but grin as you sauntered toward her, twirling the whip around your body. The webbing swirled through the air, curving gracefully around you in a move straight out of Catwoman's playbook. With a final flourish, you cracked it down onto the floor, the sharp snap echoing through the room.

Morgan’s ears flushed red, and she shifted in her chair, clearly taken aback. “Woah. That’s hot as fuck.”

You laughed, tossing her a wink. “Glad you think so. I was channeling my inner Catwoman.”

Still a bit flustered, Morgan cleared her throat and extended her hand. You placed the whip into her palm, and she inspected it closely, her fingers tracing the intricate details of your craftsmanship.

“Seriously, though,” she said, looking up at you, “Where’d you learn to handle a whip like that?”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Just a little bit of practice, you know? I’ve had some pretty good teachers.”

Your gaze then shifted to her screen, where a file on Ivy's toxins was open. Charts, chemical structures, and old lab notes cluttered the display.

“Thought you were going through Octavius’ files?” you asked.

“Oh, I was," Morgan handed the whip back to you with a shrug.

"But then I stumbled on this.” She pointed at the screen. “Insane, right? Did you know Gotham University lets their Botany majors examine Ivy’s toxins? There are detailed reports from student lab projects—college students analyzing some seriously dangerous stuff. Who thinks that's a good idea?”

You arched an eyebrow. “It’s Gotham University. Top in the country. They probably consider it a rite of passage. It’s not like the city holds back on the bizarre.”

Morgan shook her head, her disbelief morphing into a bemused smile. “Seriously, though, it’s even in their chemistry curriculum. ‘Advanced Chemistry: How to Survive Ivy’s Toxins 101.’ Like, what kind of class is that?”

You chuckled. “Sounds like standard Gotham fare. The city has a way of turning even the most mundane academic subjects into survival skills.”

As you stared at the file, your mind drifted to Ivy—Pamela Isley, who had once been a big part of your life. Back when she was close with Selina, you even used to call her Aunt Isley. It felt right at the time, natural, given how much she was around.

One memory stood out: Ivy had to leave town, and she’d entrusted Selina with her beloved plants. You were just a kid, but you remember how excited you were to have Ivy’s vibrant greenery filling the place. Selina had promised to take good care of them, but… she forgot. Just plain forgot to water them.

When Ivy returned, the plants were withered and dead. For someone like Ivy—an eco-terrorist with a green thumb so legendary she could probably make a cactus bloom in a snowstorm—this was more than just a mistake. It felt like a betrayal.

The fallout was brutal. Ivy was livid, and Selina was wrecked. If you hadn’t been there to calm things down, Ivy might’ve strangled Selina with a vine on the spot.

Morgan sighed dramatically, pushing her chair back from the screen and stretching like a cat. "I’m so over these files," she announced, spinning around to face you with a mischievous glint in her eye. "We need to do something fun."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued as she started navigating through a map on her command center. "What are you up to?"

"Finding us a little adventure," she replied, her grin widening as she zoomed in on a spot on the outskirts of Gotham. "Look at this—an old, supposedly abandoned greenhouse. Rumor has it, it’s still full of Ivy’s plants. We should go check it out."

You blinked, taken aback by the suggestion. "You want to go trespassing in an abandoned greenhouse filled with potentially dangerous plants?"

Morgan shrugged with a carefree grin. "Why not? It’s way more exciting than sitting here with these boring files. Besides, think of the intel we could gather! Maybe even some samples. If you're serious about this hero thing, having some cures on hand could be pretty useful."

You raised an eyebrow. "Last time I checked, my focus was on tech companies. Not plants."

Morgan leaned back in her chair, throwing her hands up. "C'mon, it’ll be fun! We could call it a ‘field trip’ for our mission."

You scoffed, but a smirk tugged at your lips as you grabbed your glasses. “I thought you were supposed to be the smart and responsible one among the two of us?”

Morgan shot you a playful smile as she grabbed her jacket. “Smart enough to know when we need a break.”

She slung her jacket over her shoulder with a casual flick. “And who knows? We might stumble into something interesting or at least have a hell of a time.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Fine, but if this turns into a mess, you’re the one explaining it to Tony.”

“Deal,” Morgan grinned, heading toward the door. “Now let’s get out of here before I lose my mind.”

 ༻⊰───⋅

Saturday, 12:34 AM - Ivy's 'Abandoned' Warehouse, Gotham City.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the overgrown landscape as you swung through the rainy Gotham air. Raindrops pattered against your suit, mixing with the cool breeze as you guided both yourself and Morgan down toward the warehouse’s perimeter. You landed softly on the other side of the fence, the wet ground beneath you squelching slightly.

The warehouse loomed in the distance, shrouded in shadows and engulfed by a thick veil of greenery. Vines and creeping plants had swallowed the building, twisting their way up the walls and breaking through the broken windows. Shrubs and wild foliage sprawled across the once-smooth concrete, creating a tangled jungle that had overtaken the area.

You and Morgan navigated through the thick underbrush, your footsteps muffled by the lush carpet of foliage. 

“Welcome to the jungle,” Morgan whispered, adjusting her glasses as raindrops collected on the lenses. She reached for a flashlight, flicking it on to cut through the gloomy darkness.

“Did you really have to pick the creepiest spot in Gotham?” you muttered, glancing around warily. Your spider senses buzzed faintly, a low hum that told you to stay alert, though you weren’t entirely sure what you should be on the lookout for.

As you approached the warehouse’s entrance, you noticed the heavy wooden doors were slightly ajar, propped open by a stubborn vine wedged in the gap. You took a few steps back, then charged at the door with all your might. It crashed inward with a resounding clang, sending splinters flying and the vine recoiling.

CLANG!

You kicked the door aside and stepped into a scene that looked like something straight out of a botanical horror movie. The interior of the warehouse was a riot of green. Hanging plants and tendrils formed a dense canopy overhead. The remnants of old plant pots and scientific equipment were half-buried under layers of creeping vines and moss.

“Keep your eyes peeled for anything useful,” you said, stepping inside.

The plan was simple: infiltrate the location, gather as much information as possible, and leave before anyone even noticed you were there.

Your boots squelched slightly on the damp ground as you made your way further into the labyrinth of greenery. Morgan followed close behind, her flashlight beam scanning the surroundings.

“Looks like she really made herself at home. Can’t believe she’d leave all these beauties behind,” she murmured.

After a few minutes of searching, you stumbled upon a makeshift lab tucked away in a corner of the warehouse. Old tables and shelves, now covered in a thick layer of dust and grime, held an assortment of glassware, old notebooks, and strange samples.

Morgan’s eyes lit up as she approached the lab. “This must be it! Look at all this stuff.”

Kneeling down, she began sifting through the clutter, her flashlight revealing dusty glassware, faded notebooks, and a variety of botanical samples in various states of preservation. She carefully picked up a few jars, examining the contents with growing fascination.

You stood guard by the door, senses on high alert. The slow hum of your spider senses gradually intensified, morphing into a persistent, almost blaring buzz in the back of your mind. It felt like a magnetic pull, drawing your focus to every flicker of shadow and rustle of the unseen. 

Morgan, oblivious to your heightened alertness, was engrossed in a particularly worn notebook.

"This is so fucking cool," she said, her eyes wide with excitement. "Check out these notes—they look like they’re from Ivy’s earlier research. She was experimenting with ways to boost plant growth, mixing toxins, and even concocting some kind of antidote."

As Morgan continued to study the notebook, the buzzing in your senses grew stronger. You tensed, feeling a prickling chill race up your spine and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. There was something else in the warehouse—something you couldn’t immediately identify, but it was there.

“Morgan,” you said quietly. “I’m getting a bad feeling.”

Morgan looked up from her work, fingers curled around a test tube. “What do you mean?”

“Just keep your eyes open,” you warned, eyes narrowing as you scanned the shadows. “Start packing up and be quick. Something doesn’t feel right.”

Morgan’s fingers flew over the lab equipment as she grabbed several samples and shoved them into her bag. The air seemed to grow thicker, the plants rustling with an almost eerie liveliness.

!!!

“We need to go. Now!” you hissed, urgently grabbing Morgan and pulling her to her feet.

Morgan flinched but scrambled up, stuffing the worn notebook she’d found into her jacket. “Alright… let me just—”

Before she could finish, your spider senses exploded into a full-blown scream of warning.

DANGER.

“Get down!”

Without warning, you grabbed Morgan and pushed her down behind some crates, your suit beginning to uncloak.

A thick vine lashed out from the shadows, slamming into your side with a force that knocked the wind out of you. Pain exploded where the vine struck, radiating through your ribs as you skidded backward and crashed into a metal rack.

Your helmet hadn’t fully materialized in time, and the impact with the shelving unit sent a jarring shock through your skull, leaving you dazed and disoriented.

"A little spider has wandered into my web~"

Shit.

Warmth trickled down from your forehead where the impact had split the skin. With a shaky breath, you pushed yourself off the rack, using it for support as you steadied yourself.

"Hello, crazy plant lady," you quipped, your helmet materializing as the voice modulator kicked in.

You weren’t her estranged niece now; you were Nightcrawler, Gotham's latest hero.

From above, Ivy unfurled herself from the ceiling, smirking as she lounged on a sprawling leaf. Vines curled around her with languid grace, reacting to her slightest gesture as if extensions of her will.

"Ah, Gotham's newest little hero," Ivy's voice was a melodious yet chilling purr, her laughter echoing softly through the warehouse. "What brings you to my sanctuary?"

The slits in your mask narrowed as you drew your claws and unclipped your whip from your belt. Ivy’s eyes narrowed at the choice of weapons, a flicker of recognition in her gaze. She was clearly connecting the similarities between you and Catwoman.

"Oh, just swinging by to see what all the fuss is about. Heard you've been busy in Gotham."

Ivy's smile sharpened, a glint of admiration lighting up her emerald eyes.

"Hm. Spunk," she purred, hands moving to tangle in her hair. "I do appreciate that in my visitors."

Out of the corner of your visor, you spotted Morgan inching away. You gave her a discreet nod, signaling her to keep going while you kept your focus locked on Ivy.

"So, this place wasn’t as abandoned as I thought," you said, trying to keep Ivy talking and distracted. "For someone who supposedly retired from the spotlight, you sure know how to throw a party."

Ivy threw her head back and laughed. "Retired?" she repeated. "Oh, honey, you have no idea."

Around you, vines stirred, their sinewy tendrils snaking up your legs like snakes. Unfazed, you subtly shifted your weight, and then, with a swift slash of your claws, the vines split apart. You flipped away, slipping out of their grasp with ease.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice when my darlings are disturbed?” Ivy’s voice dripped with mockery. “Just when I finally manage to reclaim this space from concrete and steel, pests like you decide to get curious.”

“Look, I’ve got a busy schedule,” you quipped, narrowly dodging a lashing vine. “So how about we skip the tango and save us both a night of pain?”

“Oh, you’re simply delightful,” Ivy purred,sultry and chilling. “Very well, little spider. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

In a heartbeat, Ivy was in motion. Vines shot through the air like whips, each one aiming to entangle or strike. You sidestepped a thick vine that snapped past your ear and rolled under another that slammed into the floor where you’d just been. Your senses were on fire.

Beep!

In the corner of your visor, Morgan’s face flickered into view—a welcome sight amid the chaos. The camera feed was shaky, but you could make out her anxious expression as she huddled behind a stack of crates, her phone clutched tightly in her hand.

“Are you okay?” you hissed through the comms, trying to keep your voice steady despite the whirlwind of vines around you.

“M Outside! Sorry! I…I didn’t realize Ivy was here!” Morgan said, her voice tinged with panic. “I thought this place was a total ghost town!”

“Apologize later!” you shouted back, ducking a swinging vine. “Just stay out of sight. I’ll catch up with you once I deal with the plant lady!”

With a quick flip, you barely managed to dodge another flurry of whipping vines. You drew back your whip and snapped it towards the incoming tendrils, slicing through them. 

Ivy scowled, her eyes narrowing as she watched her plants get cut down. She retaliated, sending a fresh wave of vines hurtling toward you.

You dodged and weaved, the thick, green tendrils brushing against your suit. Each crack of your whip was followed by a sharp hiss of defeated foliage.

You charged through, ducking and weaving to avoid the onslaught. When you were close enough, you landed a solid left hook to Ivy’s face, the impact echoing with a satisfying thud. Ivy’s head snapped back with a sharp yelp of pain. You laughed, not giving her a moment to regroup, and threw another punch straight to her jaw.

JAB!

“Had enough, or should I keep going?” you taunted.

Ivy’s eyes flared with rage. “You little—”

Leaping onto a stack of crates to dodge another lash from her vines, you shot a web at Ivy. The sticky strands wrapped around her wrists, pinning her securely against a nearby support beam.

Ivy struggled against the webbing, her vines twitched with agitation as they lashed out. You kept your whip and claws at the ready, prepared for any sudden moves.

“Alright, listen up,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Unless you want more of your precious plants turned into mulch, I suggest you calm down.”

“Calm down?” Ivy hissed, her frustration barely contained. “You’re the intruder here, desecrating my sanctuary. I won’t tolerate this!”

You took a deep breath, trying to defuse the situation. “Look, I’m really sorry about the intrusion. Didn’t mean to step on your botanical toes. We were just here to explore—”

“Explore?” Ivy’s brow shot up. “Is that why your friend took of my vials and papers?”

You stared at her, blinking a few times. Then, with a sheepish shrug, you said, “Okay, to be fair, you left that stuff lying around. It kind of looked like it was up for grabs. Plus, we didn’t exactly see a ‘Keep Out’ sign.”

“So, it’s a case of ‘finders keepers,’ then?” she scowled. “And here I thought you were a little more refined than that.”

“Hey!” you said, walking towards her until you were just a foot away. “I’m just calling it like I see it, lady. Maybe if you knew how to clean up, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Ivy tossed her hair over her shoulder, the golden-orange strands cascading like vines down her back. She leaned closer, her lips brushing against your jaw, her breath warm and tantalizing against your skin.

“Well, if you’re so keen on exploring,” she purred, her voice a sultry whisper, “I could show you something that’ll really satisfy your curiosity.”

!!!

Your spider senses flared with urgent warnings, but before you could react, Ivy thrust a slender vine beneath the edge of your helmet. In an instant, a cloud of pollen erupted inside your mask, catching you completely off guard. You gasped and choked, stumbling backward as your vision blurred and your nose was overwhelmed by the suffocating, heady scent of the pollen.

Your visor’s alarms blared, vitals flashing urgently:

TOXIN DETECTED.

“Damn it,” you grimaced as a searing heat began to radiate through your skin and bones. The prickling sensation quickly escalated into an intense burn, making it feel like your blood was boiling beneath your skin.

“Morgan!” you called out. “Find me an escape route, now!”

"Underestimated me?" Ivy cackled. "Thought you could resist my charms, did you?"

Morgan’s shaky voice crackled through the comms. “I’m searching for a way out! Just hang in there!”

“Oh, you won’t be escaping that easily,” Ivy sneered at you, still trapped in your webs. Despite her restraints, her vines writhed and twisted with a life of their own. “This is my domain, and you’re not leaving until I say so.”

You gritted your teeth, struggling against the searing pain as the vines inched closer. “Alright, I’m really sorry for this, but I’m done playing nice.”

With a sharp flick of your wrist, you shot a web at a vase perched precariously on a high shelf. The vase tumbled through the air and crashed down onto Ivy’s head, shattering into a shower of shards and a splash of crimson.

Ivy screamed as the shards rained down, a flurry of leaves and flowers cascading over her head and shoulders, momentarily obscuring her vision. 

Morgan's face reappeared on your visor, her brow furrowed with worry. “There’s a clear window—no vines blocking it! Hurry! I marked it on your map!”

Glancing at the map in your visor, you spotted the indicated window. 

"This was nice, but I’ve got places to be and people to save," you heaved, your voice breathy as you kicked away a lashing vine. "So if you don’t mind, I'll be taking my leave."

THWIP.

Launching yourself through the open window, you felt the cool, rain-soaked Gotham air slap your face as you soared into the night. The roar of the storm and the distant hum of the city below filled your senses. Behind you, Ivy’s furious shouts pierced through the downpour, her curses mingling with the crack of thrashing vines slamming against the walls.

“PEST!”

 ༻⊰───⋅

Saturday, 1:05 AM - Crime Alley, Gotham City.

"Robin, status?" Oracle's voice beeped in from Damian's earpiece.

Damian was perched on a rooftop, jade eyes scanning the dark expanse of Crime Alley below. The rain poured down in relentless sheets, the cold droplets cascading off the edges of his hood and dripping onto his shoulders.

From his vantage point, he could see the dilapidated buildings lining Crime Alley, their broken windows and graffiti-covered walls illuminated by the sporadic flashes of lightning. The streets below were deserted, the few brave souls out in the storm moving quickly, their faces obscured by umbrellas and hoods. Puddles formed in the uneven pavement, reflecting the occasional flicker of streetlights.

He lifted a gloved hand to his communication device, the wet leather squeaking slightly against the earpiece.

"I'm in my usual position," he reported, his voice steady. "No sign of activity. Just monitoring. Slow night."

"Figured," Nightwing's voice spoke up. "There is a storm."

“Ishth Gotham,” Jason's voice chimed in, muffled as if he was chewing something. “When isn’t there a storm?”

"Are you eating right now?" Tim's voice squeaked with disbelief, the sound sharp and incredulous over the comms. "Again? Really?"

"Yeah?" Jason retorted, taking another bite of whatever he was munching on. "A guy's gotta eat. Maybe if you actually ate more, you wouldn’t be so scrawny, Timberland."

"I'm fit!" Tim snapped back, voice cracking. "And can you please stop using my name? We have codenames for a reason."

"You're the genius who called yourself 'Drake'," Damian scoffed as he kept his eyes trained on the rain-soaked expanse below.

"Demon brat's got a point," Jason drawled, the sound of him slurping a drink faintly audible over the comms. "Harley still calls you Duck-Boy."

"Just focus on the job," Nightwing interjected, his voice slicing through the bickering with an authoritative edge. "Tonight’s a washout. Red Robin and I are on patrol near the docks. We’ve encountered a few low-level crooks, but nothing major."

"Alright," Oracle’s voice came through again. "Stay on high alert. Let me know if anything changes."

As the comms went silent, Damian pulled out his phone, the screen lighting up against the storm's backdrop. For a fleeting moment, his stoic expression softened. A nearly imperceptible smile tugged at his lips as he glanced at the lock screen—a picture of you, warm and content in one of his shirts, your face framed by tousled hair and a genuine smile.

He noted the time—1:05 AM. Given your unpredictable sleep patterns, you were likely still awake. Damian's finger hovered over the screen, caught between sending a quick message or making a call. But before he could decide, a sharp gust of wind swept across the rooftop, making his cape snap and sending a chill through his soaked uniform.

He slipped the phone back into his belt, shook off the cold, and refocused on the scene below. His eyes scanned the shadowy expanse: dark alleys, rain-slicked roads, and flickering, rusting shop signs.

Then, a sudden, unexpected movement shattered the monotony. A flash of red and white streaked across the skyline, its vibrant colors stark against the darkened sky. A web shot out, glinting briefly in the intermittent lightning before anchoring itself to a nearby building.

THWIP.

There was a pause.

Damian’s lips curled into a sharp snarl. His fingers tightened around the grip of his grappling gun, his mind shifting into high gear. With a scowl, he tapped his earpiece.

“Oracle,” Damian began, boots crunching as he moved to the edge of the rooftop. “I have visual on the spider vigilante. Engaging in pursuit.”

Without waiting for a reply, he fired the grappling gun. The line shot through the air with a metallic twang, slicing through the rain-soaked night. He felt the jolt as the grappling hook latched onto a distant anchor, pulling him forward.

As he swung through the storm, a fierce thrill coursed through him, like a bird unleashed with new wings. With the city sprawled out beneath him and the rain pelting against his face, Robin was ready to do what he did best.

Hunt.

 ༻⊰───⋅

"It's going to take hours to get this smell out of my suit," you heaved, wrinkling your nose as you fired a web into the distant skyline. The line stuck firmly to a building, and with a jarring lurch, you swung deeper into the city.

Morgan clung to you for dear life, her voice barely audible over the rush of air. “Not the time to worry about laundry! Focus on not crashing into something! And maybe on not dying from the poison?!”

"Hey, I’m just saying," you shot back with a strained chuckle, “if I survive this, I’m gonna need to have this suit professionally cleaned.”

Morgan’s grip tightened, and she shouted, “Survive first, clean later!"

With a yank of your web, you aimed for the next rooftop, but as you hurtled through the air, you realized that you’d miscalculated the distance. The rooftop was rushing in too fast, and panic surged through you like ice.

Your stomach lurched, and in a split-second decision, you threw Morgan forward, trying to cushion her fall. She landed with a thud, a breathless gasp escaping her as she hit the roof.

You, however, weren’t so fortunate. Your foot snagged the edge of the roof awkwardly, sending a sharp pain shooting up your leg.

CRACK.

The sickening crack of bone snapping echoed through the air as your ankle twisted violently. The force of the impact jolted your entire body, sending you sprawling onto the rough, gravelly rooftop.

“Great…” you muttered through gritted teeth, struggling to push yourself up onto your hands and knees. Your body felt like it was on fire from the inside out, the toxin’s effects amplifying the pain with each passing second.

You bit down hard on your tongue, the metallic taste of blood bubbling into your mouth. You fought to keep yourself upright, but your legs felt like lead, and you crumpled onto the rooftop, unable to fully bear your weight.

“Shit!” Morgan scrambled to her feet, her face a mask of panic and concern. “Are you okay? What happened?”

"Just… a little off target," you panted, wincing as you assessed the damage. Your visor had taken a hit during the fall, causing the data to flicker erratically. Through the static, you could still make out the crucial info: a broken bone.

“It's fine… Just a broken ankle,” you added, trying to maintain your composure despite the sluggishness creeping into your movements. 

“You’re getting brain fog and dizziness,” Morgan said urgently, her fingers flipping through the notebook she’d snatched earlier. “It’s a side effect of the toxin. We need to get you to the safehouse—”

Before she could finish, you shook your head with a groan. “No. You call a cab and head there. I’ll swing.”

“Are you insane?!” Morgan nearly shouted, grabbing your arm in panic. “You can barely stand, let alone swing through the city! We need to get you help, now!”

You pushed her away, trying to ignore the throbbing in your ankle. “It’s not like I have much of a choice. The suit’s tampered, I think. Look.”

You attempted to uncloack, but the metal sputtered and glitched erratically. “See? I can’t uncloack. If you’re seen with me, they’ll find us out in no time. I can’t risk that.”

Morgan’s eyes darted between you and the malfunctioning suit, her face a mix of worry and frustration. “This is all my fault. I’m so sorry. I should have—”

“Stop,” you cut her off, wincing as the pain intensified. “It’s not your fault. Just get to the safehouse. I’ll manage.”

Tears of frustration welled up in Morgan’s eyes. “I can’t just leave you like this!”

“You don’t have a choice,” you said firmly, trying to steady your voice. “If we’re both caught, it’ll be worse. Now go! I’ll be fine.”

With one last, apologetic glance, Morgan pulled out her phone and dialed for a cab, her hands trembling.

 ༻⊰───⋅

Damian, concealed in the shadows of the rooftop, landed with a muted thud. He crouched behind the crumbling ledge of an old brick wall, the slits in his mask narrowing as he took in the scene unfolding just a few feet away.

He watched as you struggled to regain your footing, your movements pained and uneven. The girl beside you—her rain-soaked silhouette a blur against the storm—was clearly in a panic, her phone clutched tightly as she fumbled with it.

‘A civilian,’ Damian thought, frustration lining his features. Launching a direct attack now would be reckless. He had to be certain the vigilante was genuinely on their own before making a move.

After a tense moment, the girl finally moved and dashed down the fire escape, her figure barely visible through the downpour. Damian squinted through the sheets of rain, straining to catch a glimpse of her features, but the storm blurred his view into an indistinct smear of color and motion.

The moment she was out of sight, his attention snapped back to you. You took a deep, ragged breath, bracing yourself. Then, with a sudden burst of movement, you launched yourself into the night. 

Damian followed, his movements fluid and precise as he pushed off from the ledge. His cape billowed behind him like a dark, flowing banner, and he darted into the storm. 

Below, the streets were a chaotic blur of honking horns and glaring headlights, their harsh lights slicing through the darkness like knives. Heavy sheets of rain hammered down, obscuring your vision and drenching you to the bone. Water seeped through the cracks in your suit, each drop feeling like an icy needle against your overheated, feverish skin.

The sensations were overwhelming. It was too much. The pain, the heat, the storm—it was all too much.

Your breath came in ragged gasps, every inhale bringing more of Ivy’s insidious toxin into your lungs.

In one desperate swing, you miscalculated the web’s trajectory. It shot out too low, sending you plummeting uncontrollably below.

Cursing through gritted teeth, you were hurled down into traffic. Everything was a blur as you slammed into the side of a car, metal denting and screams deafening your ears. Your shoulder bore the brunt of the collision, sending shockwaves of pain through your bones.

For a brief, suspended moment, everything went dark.

A cold, mechanical voice sliced through the void, its tone harsh and insistent. Maggie’s synthetic voice, though devoid of human warmth, was tinged with urgency.

“Immediate response required. Vitals are critically low. Consciousness levels decreasing. Current status is life-threatening. Please respond.”

Abruptly, your senses snapped back into sharp focus. You jolted awake with a ragged gasp, your breath coming in frantic bursts. Your vision was a fractured mosaic of blinding lights and shadowy figures. The sounds of blaring horns and panicked shouts crashed back into your ears, tires screeching all around you.

Morgan’s voice crackled through the static, panic evident in her tone. “I’m at the safehouse! Where are you? I couldn't reach you! What’s going on?”

“Change of plans,” you managed, your voice strained. “I won’t make it to the safehouse in time.”

You tapped the side of your visor, making a map flicker to life through the cracks and glitches. The display was unstable, but it highlighted a route to your apartment.

“You know where my mom's apartment is, right?” you heaved. “That’s where I’m heading.”

Entering your apartment was risky, but with your condition worsening and death looming, it was the closest refuge you could manage.

Damian, hidden in the alleyway, watched you with a furrowed brow. What he initially wrote off as rookie mistakes now seemed out of character. Your disoriented movements were starkly different from the precise maneuvers he had seen in news footage and CCTV feeds. He had been tracking your case closely, and this chaos didn't match the profile he had built.

He watched as you struggled to stand, your legs shaking with each attempt. The driver's shouts were drowned out by the storm of noise around you. Your strained apologies were barely audible. Desperation marked your actions as you fired another web, using it to pull yourself up and away from the wrecked car and the angry crowd.

Damian cursed under his breath and quickly took off after you. 

He tracked your erratic path through twisted, narrow streets until he saw you aim for an apartment building. With a quick stretch of your arm, you shot a web toward a balcony, but your aim was off again.

Another sloppily thrown web sent you slamming into the windows of the apartment. The metal edge dug into your ribs with brutal force, knocking the wind out of you. You gasped, your lungs burning as you struggled to draw in air. Pain radiated from your side, and shards of glass sprayed everywhere.

Damian, perched on the rooftop across the street, stared in disbelief. This was Catwoman’s apartment—Selina Kyle’s. The worst possible scenario unfolded in his mind. To him, it looked like a break-in. His jaw clenched tightly, and his fingers gripped the edge of his grappling gun, knuckles whitening with the force of his anger.

Pest.

Without hesitation, Damian leapt into action. He aimed for the fire escape with single-minded intensity, propelling himself toward it with a powerful thrust. His boots hammered against the metal steps, causing them to buckle and the entire structure to groan and rattle under the force of his descent. 

In the corner of his eye, he saw your figure slip into the window.

Tunnel-visioned and driven by a surge of protectiveness, Damian kicked the door to the fire escape open, the metal panel scraping roughly across the floor. His father would have his head for causing unnecessary public damage—something Robin was frequently under fire for—but at that moment, he couldn't have cared less.

"Was that a crash?!" Nightwing's voice crackled through the comm line.

"I think it's coming from demon brat's side. What's the report, squirt?"

Damian merely growled in response as he began to stalk down the hallway. His tall figure, cloaked in shadows, cast long, dark lines across the floor as he moved. He cracked his knuckles, the sound sharp and menacing over the comms.

"Someone's about to learn the price of crossing me."

 ༻⊰───⋅

Dazed and disoriented, you slipped into the building, the rough edge of the window scraping against your battered body. As you tumbled through your apartment, you hit the floor with a heavy thud, the impact shaking your entire frame. Your head struck the ground with a thump, stars exploding in your vision.

For a brief, haunting moment, there was silence—deep, oppressive silence. Then, a cold, creeping dread slithered through you.

You clawed at the floor, your body shaking.

"Mom? Mom, please! I need you!" Your voice cracked, a raw, fear seeping through every syllable. "Mom, are you there? Please, help me!"

Tears streamed down your face, mingling with the sweat and blood as you cried out into the empty, echoing apartment. The lights were off, casting the space into a suffocating darkness that seemed to press in on you.

Desperately, you stumbled into Selina’s bedroom. Your heart sank as you noticed the absence of her suit—no sleek, black leather or whip. She must have been out on patrol.

A deafening crash shattered the silence as the apartment door was ripped from its hinges. Before you could fully react, a rough hand clamped down on you, throwing you to the floor.

Your vision blurred in and out of focus as you were pinned to the floor. A heavy foot pressed mercilessly against your chest, crushing your ribs with every breath. The weight lifted, then slammed down again, ripping through your suit with a sickening crunch. The suit uncloaked, its torn pieces clinging to your clothes, leaving you exposed in just your undershirt and pants.

Through the dim, flickering light, the outline of your attacker became clearer. A katana was unsheathed with a chilling rasp, its cold blade pressed menacingly against your neck. The steel gleamed ominously, catching the sparse light and reflecting a deadly shimmer. The edge was so close you could feel its icy touch, a mere breath away from slicing into your flesh.

The thought of that forced you to tilt your head back, exposing more of your neck to the shadowy figure looming over you.

Tall and imposing, the figure was clad in grey and black armor, with a black cape flowing behind them. A red emblem, unmistakably the symbol of an R, was stitched onto their chest.

A cold realization cut through the fog of pain and fear—Robin?

<- PREVIOUS | NEXT ->

 ༻⊰───⋅

dundunDUN

whatchu think bookiebears

surely the batfam will handle this well

[nobody-nexus]

Obsession AU: UPDATED

I promise I didn't forget about this AU- In fact I've been updating it behind the scenes ever since episode 2 released! And now, with proper reference sheets, you now have a better idea of what they look like, and who they are! Alongside the new members!

(5 Facts About Pomni)

-She will never feed human meat to any person. It is THEIR hunt, and therefore if she eats it, it's ALL THEIRS. She'd never give it to others for that very reason

-Their hands are heavily damaged, having MANY scars. Due to this, she will wear as much hand covering as possible, refusing to give any more details on their appearance due to her record

-As if their stalker like obsession with Amanda isn't enough of an issue, she also has a mannequin in their home that she practices dancing with to old songs they like

-She has Hematolagnia- AKA a blood fetish. YES, she has issues if that wasn't already clear enough

-The scars that are on their body are from self-defense attempts from three different victims

(5 Facts About Amanda)

-Her damaged eye is from an incident where a kid hit her with a meat cleaver. Although she thankfully didn't lose her eye, she's 1/3rd blind and legally isn't allowed to drive because of it

-She knows how to cook! Although she does more baking than cooking, she loves to collect cookbooks and learn new recipes of various kinds! Especially ones from outside the United States

-She has scented candles in her home, and her home never smells like the same thing twice

-While she was away from her hometown, the only one that she kept in contact with was her brother, Jackson via text

-Her vitiligo started to pop up when she was 19

(5 Facts About Jackson)

-He is Zoey's roommate

-Jackson was an accidental child unlike his older sister

-He plays violent video games of all kinds. He loves being able to cause blood, death, and chaos without having to go to jail for it

-He likes sour candy a bit too much. Like it's a borderline issue with how much he's willing to pay just for sour candy and the feeling of it numbing his mouth

-Has a habit of stealing and shoplifting, being a bit TOO good at the action. He's gotten in trouble a few times before, but nowadays no one really seems to notice or care

(5 Facts About Grace)

-Grace was born an albino, having the palest skin out of most people in the town along with red eyes and white hair. It's unknown if her being albino was why she was so sickly as a child

-She loves to draw and will constantly have drawing/writing tools with her alongside notebooks or loose paper

-She's in the middle of quite the complicated situation between Amanda and Pomni

-Her most eaten food is soup, stew, and ramen

-She sees Ceaser as a father figure, being the most to visit him and keep him company ever since Quinn went missing. She'll occasionally even sing for him to make him feel better

(5 Facts About Zoey)

-They're very talented on the drums and are willing to be a temporary drummer for a price

-Zoey has a bit of an anger problem, quick to snap and easy to piss off given the topic of discussion. However, they are going to anger management classes to help with it

-Strangling is a common attack it does

-They decorate their prosthetic leg commonly

-VERY much smokes weed and makes edibles. Once tricked Amanda into eating some- and it likes the memory

(5 Facts About Kinger)

-He has a bit of a staring problem, however no one knows why

-He refuses to touch knives of any kind. This was a more recent thing about him, so most people just help him cut things in case he needs any help with it

-Still loves insects, and you can get him to ramble about bugs depending on his mood. He can't help but love em

-He has a nurse help him in his home, however it's not uncommon for Grace, Amanda, or even some of the new outbackers to come back and help him

-Has a daughter, but she moved out of state years ago. They talk occasionally

(5 Facts About Caine)

-He wears a top hat to not only stick to his brand, but also because he's kind of compensating for his height

-He has a small limp to his walk, thus why he constantly has a cane

-Caine's pet is a white pug named Bubble

-Pomni is his favorite customer! He constantly attempts small talk whenever she buys from him because he's always so curious as to why his pigs love her so much

-Although it's undiagnosed, he very much has ADHD and is on the spectrum to some degree

(5 Facts About Marina)

-She was a detective before she even moved into town, however her skills were finally noticed more so thanks to moving there

-She straightens out her hair

-Marina HAS to work in silence or she'll 100% get distracted. Caine's not allowed in her office for that very reason (but he knows)

-She is usually the one to come home late at night and snuggle in with her partner at like 2 in the morning

-Her favorite activity to do is stargazing, finding the night sky to be absolutly beautiful

(5 Facts About Summer)

-She is LOUD. You can and WILL know when she's talking and what she's talking about

-Constantly will ask her sister Marina about Caine. She is VERY wary of him even if Marina keeps telling her to stop

-Never share secrets with her because she IS a gossip girl. She adores to overshare about others and spread rumors just because she finds it fun

-Summer's seen to be a lot better around kids then people closer to her age. Thus why she's a teacher

-Can NOT let go of grudges no matter what

(5 Facts About Gabriela)

-She was the one who came up with the idea of the stripper outfits for her club. It somehow works

-She calls herself the 'Gloink Queen' as a bit of a joke whenever she's on the floor

-Can, will, and HAS flirted with at least half of the adult residence in the town just for the fun of it

-Although she claims to be married, no one has ever met her husband before, and probably never will

-Gabriela is the reason Pomni sees adult based activities as more of a transaction than anything else

(5 Facts About Gareth)

-He has a picture of his mom in his wallet. His mom nicknamed him Gummi at some point, but it's not known why

-He seems bossy, but only around his friends OR when he's upset. He's a lot more chill when one on one

-He has a manual truck that he drives around, but no one is ever impressed by it

-The reason he's good with skinning and cutting up meat is because he helped his dad since his father was a hunter

-His favorite music is country music

(5 Facts About Max)

-He's the one who came up with the idea that him, Gareth, and Chad all wore hats. He somehow convinced them to do so

-He bickers with Jackston a lot because they're both working at the same diner

-Out of the three friends, he's the most likely to flirt with someone, but if they reject him he will respect the fuck out of that

-Constantly forgets how NOT flexible he is as a person, will and has gotten stuck in multiple locations

-Always calls things that almost killed him 'the reaper'. He has also almost died WAY too many times

(5 Facts About Chad)

-He has a super high metabolism, thus why he's so skinny

-Usually carried medication in his fanny pack alongside trail mix and breath mints for some reason

-He's trying SO hard to grow facial hair, but it never cooperates with him like ever

-Chad has a habit of slumping/crouching constantly, and he has back pain as a result

-Is the most likely out of the friend group to be VERY confidently incorrect

(5 Facts About Loo)

-She was born in Britain but moved to the United States for an easier start. Who know it'd lead to being the mayor of a town?

-She's been the mayor for about 5 years by the time Amanda moves back to the town

-She dyes her hair cause she doesn't like the grays that have started to pop up

-She's painfully oblivious to how unhinged the town can be sometimes

-Loo hates being called Penelope unless it's by close friends or family

(5 Facts About Ivy)

-Although she DOES shower, just speaking to them makes you think it doesn't actually shower

-She never thinks before they speak, leading in incredibly horrid things leaving its mouth in common conversation

-Ivy is the only one who actually knows Pomni is a killer, however she finds it very attractive (this is NOT a good thing)

-Their diet consists of purely junk food and as a result it has basically a beer belly

-She has a dark/deep web fanbase, and they simply refer to itself as 'The Influencer' on the web

================================================

If you have any questions, feel free to ask me!

If you want to make your own OC for this AU, here's the blank sheet for it!

[sailon-ishmael]

Tag Game: People I'd like to get to know better!

Ty to @erebusbabylon for the tag! <33

Last Song: "Nowhere Near" by Yo La Tengo. I've been getting very into shoegaze recently and this song just popped up on shuffle. I've known of this band for a while but haven't really listened so this song might be what gets me into them!

Favorite Color: It's always so hard to choose but it's probably green or blue. I also just generally really like the primary colors, I had a big phase of wearing very color block-y outfits that featured just one color throughout and it was pretty enjoyable.

Last Book: I'm currently reading Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky because I met someone recently who told me I should read the Russians, and I just requested A Perfect Spy by John Le Carré from my library because I've been on a little bit of a spy thing recently (see TV answer). The last book I fully finished though was Free Food for Millionaires by Min Jin Lee (also wrote Pachinko). HIGHLY recommend, it was a re-read for me actually but it hit me so differently this time round as a recent college graduate trying to figure out what I want from life.

Last Movie: A French movie called The Taste of Things, directed by Tran Anh Hung. Really, really gorgeous film. It's a quiet, mature romance set in late 1800s France, slow and meditative. This film emphasizes the beauty of process when it comes to food. The cooking and eating, yes, but also the growing, the preparation, the cleaning etc.

Last TV show: I've been sick at home for the past couple of days and as such I've been allowing myself to binge as much TV as I want, and my ultimate comfort genre is British murder mysteries and spy thrillers (a la La Carré). So I just binged Marlow Murder Club (very fun, short, and sweet) and The Night Manager (sexy, stylish, and riveting).

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: I'm a savory lover through and through, give me a piping hot soup to sip on instead of a hot chocolate any day! I used to scarf down a cup ramen in the 20 minutes I had between two back to back classes in my last semester, and I couldn't stand to throw out the soup after I finished the noodles so I'd just show up to class with my little cup of steaming leftover soup and sip on it throughout lolol.

Current Obsession: Mmm trying to think of an answer that isn't astoundingly obvious *side eyes my whole blog* but honestly, I guess my current obsession as an editor is one Harry Goodsir. His wet eyes and spiral of disillusionment have bewitched me body and soul. Other than The Terror and TROP, I've also been recently re-awakened to my obsessions with Bagginshield and Valvert (Les Mis). For some reason, my high school comfort ships have decided it's time to make a reappearance in my brain's rotation of rotstuff.

**********

No pressure tagging @plotdesigner @roundtriptojupiter @mxdzin @alexnortonweldon @daughterofthesunlands @commonguttersnipe

[ms-demeanor]

oh my god this is random but i rarely come across people who like mike patton, i know he's very influential but for some reason almost no one talks about him, it was nice see you mentioning him!! i would love to hear more about your music taste

I am painfully and overwhelmingly obsessed with Faith No More to the point that I am the lone remaining admin of @faithnomoreshitposting. The first dance song at my wedding was Mr. Bungle's "Retrovertigo" (Mr. Bungle was the last band I saw pre-pandemic and it was fantastic) I also used to make a webcomic on tumblr called @punkpuns that's about goth, metal, and punk subcultures and at lease a few of those comics touch on my taste.

I'm also in a band called P.I.T. and a lot of the music we've made is music I like. It's a punk band but it's a punk band that's heavily informed by the two permanent members being goths who are really into industrial and metal. Here's one of our songs:

My singing style with my band is *very specifically* colored by the way I'm fixated on Patton's voice. That doesn't come across in all of our songs but I was definitely thinking "what would Patton do?" when I was figuring out key changes and breathing and switching between clean and distorted sound or trying to get to the very bottom of my range.

I also really like Orville Peck, Soul Coughing, Hole, Tom Petty, and ELO. I really like The Clash. I really like Body Count. I really like (the) Melvins. I had an obsessive Beatles phase from the ages of 13 to 17 and I grew up in a household where my dad was similarly obsessive about KISS so I kind of like KISS by default even though they objectively suck.

I generally like a lot of music. I like a lot of rap but I'm not deeply familiar with the genre and am mostly aware of stuff that was popular in the 90s. I like a lot of big band music but and a lot of jazz but I couldn't name a lot of albums or songs. I like a lot of country generally but I do not like a lot of country since the nineties. I have listened to and enjoyed a lot of emo but that mostly manifests as playing one Bright Eyes song on repeat. I am not terribly fond of pop music but I get why people like most of it (I don't understand swifties, sorry, she's the aural equivalent of dry toast except listening to her doesn't reduce nausea).

I will pretty much listen to anything, the things that I like the best are rarely played on the radio, and there's very little that will annoy me if someone puts it on (please don't make me listen to showtunes or pop country).

IDK music is good. I like music. On my website rec page I've got a running list of whatever piece of music I've been fixated on recently. I think I spent two months of 2020 listening to Janitor by Suburban Lawns on repeat.

[papermint-airplane]

Ten (10) People I'd Like to Get to Know Better Tag

Thanks for the tag @happy-lemon, @weisskralle, @silwermoon-sims, @laurademelza, and @nitetrait. WEEEEEE I'M POOPULAR!

Last Song: Drip by Babymonster (YT link)

Favorite Color: Red and metallic gold. Yes, yes, Iron Man colors, but also the color of really neat dragons and shit. Very underrated color combination. Very luxe. Not demure at all.

Last Movie: Shooooooooooooooooooooooooooot, I don't know. I don't really watch movies much these days but I did recently watch the entirety of Tokyo Mew Mew's remake in one day. All put together, that's like multiple movies.

Last Book: What's Your Name? by our very own @miss-may-i. I still haven't finished it because my attention span done shit out on me because of *dismissive handflap* life stuff, but I am loving it and I'm sooooooo close to the end. I can't wait to find out what happens.

Sweet, Spicy or Savory: Savory, usually, but lately I've been having a hankerin' for mint chocolate chip ice cream.

Last Thing I Googled: The huldrefolk, for absolutely no reason whatsoever. *whistles innocently*

Current Obsession: My character, Uriah. He has so much depth to him that I never expected him to have and I can't wait to reintroduce everyone to him with his own story! I hope y'all are just as shook as I was that our favorite lil maid costume-wearing slurt has dimensions.

Looking Forward To: The aforementioned story! I'm struggling with hypersomnia again but it's coming at some point and I hope people like it. I'm trying a whole bunch of new things! I'd say 2025 is about experimentation but let's face it, I'm always throwing a bunch of my spaghetti-brained nonsense at the wall to see what sticks. Join me in my pasta propulsion procedures.

As usual, I have no idea who to tag so if you don't want to do this or have already done it, ignore me.

I'm tagging:

@frostedshore, @thebramblewood, @matchalovertrait, @kevinvoncrastenburg, @tealybean

@judetuude, @miss-may-i, @drawing-way-outside-the-lines, @living-undead, @nectar-cellar

[seronsalk]

A pretty little nightingale...

Part 1

Alastor x female reader (sorry gents and non-binary pals, I'll do you next!)

Masterlist AN: An idea I've been obsessed with recently...sorry if it's bad. Dividers from our lovely @saradika-graphics Warnings: Mention of Violence

"Sometimes I stare at my ceiling for so long that I forget where I am. I forget I am in a fiery pit where at any moment a knife could be jabbed into my shoulders or back and twisted. At any moment I could be killed, kidnapped, tortured, or even feasted upon. Would I taste good? Would my killers be satisfied with my death or would they too be disappointed in what I could have been for them? And even now as my alarm goes off, I wonder where my soul would go if I did one night, not wake up."

The morning in hell was pretty normal to the morning's you were alive. Wake up, get ready, go downstairs to the club, dance and sing. That beautiful structure, belting one's heart to an audience every day with no worry.

Until you found yourself doing the same thing, but in your afterlife. In hell. You will forever curse yourself because who else would you blame for your eternal damnation?

As you walked down the stairs to the dark empty club, the other performers were there already practicing.

"Look who rolled out of bed! And how is our princessa this morning?" Dante spoke, he was an insufferable demon to be around this early in the morning, and that Spanish accent rolled off his tongue right into his trumpet. He was a beautiful demon; all the musicians were. It made you wonder why such pretty boys were stuck down here with you.

You smiled at him before speaking, "doing just fine til you opened your mouth, save your air for the horn." Another musician whose name was Hernando, forced everyone to refer to him as Sir Pesci for some weird reason then spoke with a laugh in his voice. "As if saving his air would help him sound better!"-"Hey Hernando, did your mom get the flores I sent her?" Dante suddenly spoke. "Ahhh, vaffanculo," the Italian man cursed back as he waved his hands dismissively at Dante.

You laughed at the scene as the other band members didn't understand a word being said under the accents before they all turned to you. It was warm-up time and it would go on for at least three hours.

By the time the jazz club was about to open you had dolled yourself up. The servers and bartenders had finally rolled in.

Throughout your shift many older sinners had trotted in at the sound of the music. But as you went to take a break in-between songs Dante came up to you. "Y/N, apparently some big shot wants to talk to you backstage."

You looked at him curiously, "Why m-" but you were cut off by your boss. He was an arrogant man who cared less for what others thought of him unless they were giving him money or popularity. One time just to get him to hear you when you complained about fixing the door in your dressing room, you had to pay him twenty bucks. He was built like a bull and like a bull, he sometimes charged in without thought or reason.

"Y/n let's go, got a big customer who wants to meet you!" he dragged you away with his bulky hands. Dante gave you a shrug as he walked off.

Alastor's POV:

It was a normal day in hell, he strutted down the road cane in hand. He was on his way to the cannibal colony to meet with Rosie.

When demons saw him they would jump into traffic or even through windows to avoid his gaze. His devilish constant smile sent even the tougher, bigger demons groveling.

As he was walking though, his ears twitched. The sound of jazz, but more prominent, a beautiful voice. He could recognize the song immediately, Heatwaves, by Ethel Waters. He followed the voice around the corner of the street and saw some demons trickling into a club. He twirled his cane in interest and his smile became wider.

He walked towards the bouncers, two of the biggest mobsters stood strong and firm, but one look at Alastor made them sweat. "Good'ay my good gents, tell me what is this fine establishment about then?" A little hint of Alastors transatlantic southern accent sprung like cattails in a bayou.

One of the bouncers spoke in an almost whisper, "It's The Spotted Fawn jazz club, sir." Alastor's smile widened in interest again. "Well, pay me no mind gentleman, I simply will be taking a look around." And with that, he walked past them and a second later one of the bouncers told the big boss.

He walked in, it smelled of rye and smoke. He loved the atmosphere, it was like he was in New Orleans all over again.

Then your voice struck his ears like lightning. He looked over towards the stage, jazz musicians playing behind you as you sang. Your h/l h/c hair bouncing as you swayed your hips to your own song.

Your boss had interrupted his train of thoughts, "Why I wouldn't have expected the radio demon to be in my club-welcome sir." He offered his hand to shake and Alastor's smile twisted as he ignored his hand. "Charming establishment you have here sir! I appreciate people who are still following the more traditional...ways." Alastor spoke his eyes wandering back to you as you danced on stage with one of the musicians.

"Say, my good man, who is that lovely dame singing?" Alastor inquired as he twirled his cane. "That'd be y/n sir, one of my finer performers." Y/n....your name twirled circles in his mind. You were gorgeous, as was your voice.

And for the first time in a while, since his mother and Rosie, he felt admiration for a woman. He spoke again, "Well I would love to meet h-" he was cut off. "2k upfront," was all the bull-built man said. Alastor's neck basically snapped as he looked at him, "Excuse me?" he said. "I don't trust any of you overlords and the last thing my performers need is the attention from one of you causing them, or me, problems. You wanna talk to her? Pay me or strike a deal sir." This bull had no class it made Alastor cackle. "Normally I'd kill you where you stand, but because I'm feeling generous about how lovely this establishment I'll let you off with a warning. Talk like that again towards me and I'll pull your guts out and serve them to your customers." His radio static backed his voice like a snarling panther. "Now about this deal, tell me what do you desire?" "Follow me we talk business in the back." The bull led Alastor away.

The bull brought her into his office, where Alastor was sitting. Her eyes widened a little, but she quickly sat down. "I was told you wanted to speak with me?" she asked. They were alone now.

EN: Hi guys so I like this idea, I was gonna make a part two, but let me know what you think!

[dj-of-the-coven]

Infrequently Asked Questions: Updated 1/21/25

Q: What's this blog about?

A: Despite what Tumblr seems to want everyone to think, I am not a twewy blog anymore. I haven't been for a while. This blog is a mixture of things that interest me, and those follow a general trend. I'm into alternative music and related subcultures, 90s & 2000s alt fashion, web 1.0, video games, horror media, and cool edgy graphics. I post about politics every now and again if something catches my attention, but most of my anarchy is done in person, not online. As a rule I don't reblog e-begging or guilt trip posts (e.g. "I don't care what your blog theme is just rb!!!" "If you don't reblog you're horrible!!") because I believe in at least trying to separate my chill online life from my day job.

Q: What kind of alt music do you like?

A: I listen to a lot of classic punk, 90s punk revival, grunge, riot grrrl, emo rock and nu metal, with a bit of death metal and heavy metal.

Q: What alt music subcultures do you consider yourself a part of?

A: I call myself an emo and a punk. I'm not goth, though I've been a fan of the odd goth song here and there.

Q: Do you dress alternative IRL?

A: Yep. I've been doing this since I was about 12 or 13, but I'm a lot better at it now than I was back then. I dress in a mixture of emo and punk looks, usually in black, red, and hot pink. My hair is split-died pink on one side and black on the other.

Q: What's with the web 1.0 obsession?

A: IDK man. Maybe the nostalgia just hit me really hard, but I think it's a bit deeper than that. I'm really fascinated by recent history, and a ton of that is entangled with the internet culture of the late 90s up to 2014 or so. It's cool. Besides, a ton of stuff that I like was in vogue during those decades, so as I do research I end up finding a lot of cool websites and graphics related to bands, games, and other stuff that I'm obsessed with from way back when.

Q: What video games do you like?

A: Action-adventure games with a focus on story have historically been my favorites, especially if they have edgy graphics and music, but I'm willing to try most genres as long as they're on consoles I own. The only games I seriously hate are gacha games and mobile games. And league of legends. I will shoot league players on sight. Arcane fans are okay but you're on thin ice.

Q: What kind of horror media are you into?

A: Mostly video games, but I've seen quite a few horror films on account of my bestie/roommate @g-l-o-w-y-l-i-g-h-t-s. Go follow them if you're interested in vampires. You will see a lot of vampires.

Q: What is your "day job"?

A: I am a volunteer at an anarchist bookstore. I also recently started work as a bouncer at a fairly prominent music venue. Most of what I do when I'm not "on the clock" is political research.

Q: What bands are you listening to right now?

A: Subhumans, Stiff Little Fingers, Superheaven, Deftones, Bikini Kill, Mannequin Pussy, Bad Waitress, Go Betty Go, PXNDX, The Story So Far, The Offspring, Linkin Park (the old stuff), Fall Out Boy (the old stuff), Blink-182, NOFX, Destroy Boys, Three Days Grace, Rise Against, Rage Against the Machine, Narrow Head, Breaking Benjamin, and like a million other bands. I have a lot of CDs.

Q: What games are you playing right now?

A: I've been replaying the Kingdom Hearts series with my roommate. Next games on the list are the rest of the Silent Hill series and Sonic X Shadow Generations. Possibly a replay of the ff7 remake.

Q: What weird outliers should I expect in your media taste?

A: For some reason I have a soft spot for dudebro stuff like the Beastie Boys and Team Fortress 2. Don't ask me why. I have no idea.

[tiredtxmblrvet]

Fic Rec Friday #4

If y'all want more fic rec fridays, check out @mediumgayitalian

Below are 5 fics I've enjoyed this past week/recently.

(guess who learned how to indent on posts!)

oh, what a sin by @rosyredlipstick

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17194697

Summary:

For some reason, Nico thought convincing Fitzwilliam Emerson "Golden Boy" Solace to abandon his hosting duties, blow off his company’s gala entirely, and run off with him into the night would be much harder. Well, that’s what Jason gets for trying to force Nico into attending a party.

We're back with another Rosy fic! This is an awesome one-shot where Will and Nico are both rich little shits and sneak away from their big-shot families. I'd read an entire series of this! The way Nico and Will's chemistry shines in this one-shot is incredible. Plus the family relations of Nico's family is just *chef's kiss*.

talk your talk and go viral (i just need this love spiral) by wrongcaitlyn

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46368430

Summary:

“Keep telling yourself that,” Will says quietly, because even though the door is closed, speaking any louder would seem wrong. “You’re too harsh on yourself. If you wrote songs or something, you’d easily get on the Billboard Hot 100. Dad would help you. I would, too.” “Promote it to your seven followers?” “Yes!” Nico laughs, and then Will is joining him, and they’re closer than before, but it’s nothing unusual. It’s been this way since before stupid feelings and stupid crushes, and Nico would be damned if he let it change just because of that. or a celebrity au ft. childhood friends to lovers, a bit of trauma, and a famous friend group (plus leo).

--

I'm still in the beginning stages of reading this story, but I'm already obsessed with it! The author's writing style is interesting, and I just love a good celebrity AU.

we're not brave, we're not soldiers by Chriscrosswallflower

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39827199

Summary:

The battle of Manhattan was mostly a blood stained blur but Will would never forget the sight of his brother’s body falling along with that bridge. __ Follow along with this set of one shots as Percy and Will navigate the pain and trauma of being child soldiers and grow to form an unlikely friendship. Because I think these two could be great friends and two sides of the same coin, so I decided to put my plot bunnies to paper.

I just really love the way Percy and Will are portrayed in this collection of one-shots. Their trauma and emotions feel so raw and so well-written, and I'm personally a Will and Percy besties truther, so I honestly would have loved this fic anyways. The fact that it's so awesome is a bonus.

The Sum of Our Choices: The Titan's Curse by TheTimeTraveler24

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24637117

Summary:

Maybe it's not always about trying to fix something broken. Maybe it's about starting over and creating something better. A group of special individuals are drawn together for a reason. They might not see it yet, but they are the only ones who have the power to change their destiny. They'll face opposition from the gods along the way and sometimes things won't work out the way they want. But this group is special. Their choices just might be the key to everything. Something is happening. Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, and Thalia Grace are on their way to Westover Hall in response to a distress call from Grover Underwood. At the same time, Magnus Chase is wandering around in the woods. Under strange circumstances, the two groups meet and the course of history will never be the same.

This fic is actually a crossover AU with the Magnus Chase series, so if that's not your cup of tea, feel free to skip. However, this fic is a time travel "fix-it" fic of sorts where the trio are taken from their lives post the Hidden Oracle and have to relieve the events of the The Titan's Curse (and the rest of the series, this series is 800k words!) and I'm still on the first fic, but I am HOOKED already! So I figured I'd rec it here.

three-in-one soap by thelordofshrimp

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52887397

Summary:

Austin glared at his sister. “Will can’t lie, genius. He says that since he became head counselor, any shower that lasts more than three minutes gets interrupted by someone needing his help.” “That’s… crazy.” Nico considered the number of showers he’d taken even in his short time at camp and imagined if even half of them had been interrupted. “It is,” Jerry agreed. “Not like there’s much we can do about it, though.” “You can always do something about it.” Nico sat up. “There has to be something.” “Not unless you can somehow keep the whole camp safe at once.”

--

This is just a cute one-shot where Nico tries to make it so that Will can actually take a shower for once, but shenanigans ensue anyways. It made me smile, so I'm rec'ing it here.

--

Okay that's all! I'll probably keep doing this until I run out of fics to recommend. Have a good friday lovelies!

[discoduck492]

𝐹𝒶𝒸𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒯𝒾𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒽𝓎 𝐻𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝒾𝓉𝓊𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃. ⚖️💎

If you are coming across this post & you are not aware, in 2017 the former best friend of pop artist; 'Melanie Martinez' came out with her story, claiming that Melanie had assaulted her during a sleepover. This was big news at the time and left a bad taste in a lot of people's mouths. It all eventually got swept under the carpet with the help of a plethora of false information to create a situation where the public simply didn't know who or what to believe.

Honestly, I'm not a huge 'Crybaby' (as Melanie's fans are often referred to) at all, although I enjoyed some of Melanie Martinez's earlier songs. In fact, I'm not even overly interested in pop culture- but this situation really struck a chord with me. I guess I see myself in Timothy a bit as a survivor of similar circumstances. I've seen a lot of misinformation floating around, and I thought I'd make a lil master-post to clear things up. It appears that a lot of the people who are recycling misinformation & rooting stubbornly for Melanie's innocence are very young and just want to protect the image they hold of their idol, which I empathise with.

To those young fans- if you truly believe Melanie is innocent, there is absolutely no need to create fake screenshots, attack Timothy or anything of that nature. She doesn't need fans to embellish the story to protect her. Her innocence would speak for itself, & honestly it would help Melanie more if her fans portrayed themselves as levelheaded rather than brutish bullies, taking sides like it is a sports game. This situation is delicate, and has everything to do with nuance and sensitivity.

Let's get into it..

1. 'Timothy admitted to lying in 2017 !!?'

This was one of the many rumours spread by die-hard fans. There was a photoshopped Instagram story screenshot spread around online where there is a- horribly written might I add- 'confession' from Timothy. As rumours do- especially when para-social, blindly passionate fans are involved- these false screenshots spread like wildfire.

Note the incorrect formatting of the time of posting in the false screenshot. Instagram has always formatted story post times as eg. '9m' or '9h'. Never 9min. Beyond that, the writing/grammar etc reads very childish, when Timothy typically demonstrates a more eloquent writing ability. Not sure how these kinds of things were believed at the time; but my best guess is because a lot of the fanbase was very young at the time (12-18 mostly).

2. 'didn't Timothy accuse multiple other celebrities of the same thing!?'

No. This was another persistent rumour circulating at the time that was, similarly to the former rumour, entirely fabricated. I doubt Timothy Heller even has connections to Billie Eilish, Lana Del Rey, Taylor Swift or any of the other names that have been floating around. There is absolutely no evidence of Timothy ever making these claims, it's just young impressionable fans parroting one another.

This one is incredibly strange- there isn't even any kind of evidence of Timothy saying this, let alone false evidence. It seems that somehow, obsessive Melanie fans saw the following Timothy tweets and spun a completely ridiculous lie using the names she mentioned. Timothy never once claimed to be assaulted by anyone other than Melanie.

These tweets are actually quite protective and sweet in nature, she is speaking her mind noticing how Billie Eilish who was only 16 at the time was very unprotected in the industry; surrounding herself with grown men, etc. and it was incredibly overlooked due to her celebrity status.

3. 'Timothy messed up the date! Aha! Proof she lied!'

Timothy did indeed fumble the date back in 2017. She explains in her recent video that the reason for this was that she was going off of a photo she remembered taking the day after the event, and unfortunately the photo appeared twice in her camera roll thus confusing the date (it's possible she took a screenshot of the photo later on or something along that vein).

Fans noticed that on the date Timothy gave mistakenly; Melanie was on tour in a different state & fans naively ran with this as proof of a lie.

The truth is, Timothy messing up the date is completely irrelevant. It would be a point of suspicion if Melanie had entirely denied they were ever together, but this isn't the case. It was confirmed by Melanie that this sleepover & the night in question did happen. It was also confirmed by Melanie, that on this night they did have sexual interactions. The date is totally unimportant.

I find it very strange how in image 1- Melanie admits that the night in question happened ie. the infamous 'she never said no to what we chose to do together'. This line of course sounds... convoluted at best, fairly sinister at worst.

However in image 2, Melanie states she 'thanks her 'fans who took the time to research the timeline, analyze past instagram photos, and question the story being told, which reveal her false statements'. This is incredibly strange, as she is implying that fans pointing out the date mix up proves her innocence; yet simultaneously admits that the event happened. Very inconsistent.

4. 'Why doesn't she take it to court rather than TikTok? Clearly she is after fame.'

In the midst of the aftermath of Timothy Heller's recent TikTok video where she resurfaces and speaks on her story again; a lot of people are questioning why she has not taken this to court. For some this is a way of saying 'this is a personal, delicate issue that is bound to get messy and explosive online & not the public's issue' which is an understandable perspective; but for others what they mean is 'she didn't take it to court, that must mean she's not serious about this therefore it is a lie'.

Unfortunately, legal justice is incredibly unlikely with a case like this, and I'm sure Timothy is aware of that.

There is (thankfully for Timothy's sake) no video evidence, no audio recordings- even if some sort of physical test of touch, fluid, etc. was performed, this only proves sex- not assault; and Melanie doesn't deny that they had sex. It also happened years ago, and as time goes on these things become harder and harder to prove.

Timothy likely feels that the best she can do is attempt to speak out and attain some form of social justice. Not only is the legal system feeble and tricky- it's also that Melanie has a disproportionate amount of money to work with. For Timothy, taking this to court would likely be a financially poor & fruitless decision.

Timothy also has stated in the past in this livestream @ 4:11 'I don't want to go to the police because I don't want Melanie to go to jail.'

So, there is also this understandable element where she still cares for Melanie on some level. She has no desire to punish Melanie herself, her coming out had more to do with owning her OWN story and liberating herself with the truth.

5. 'Isn't it suspicious that Timothy only seems to come out with this when Melanie is at a high in her career?'

A common point fans bring up is that Timothy seems to come out with her story at 'peaks' in Melanie's career. I don't have much to flesh out about this one since honestly this point is more of a personal opinion type of thing. Yes, Melanie is on her worldwide 'Trilogies' tour, but her album; 'Portals' came out a year ago.

I honestly feel like people would be throwing out this stale argument no matter when Timothy resurfaced. Whether it was during the anticipation of Portals, when Portals released, in the months after release- hell, during the K-12 era even. I just think this point is very.. empty.

That being said, if you would consider right now a high in her career, this honestly makes a lot of sense. Timothy was driven off of the internet by pure malice the first time she came out with this information- it makes sense that now that Melanie is bigger, she wants to reinforce, 'hey, don't forget about me, don't forget about my story & what I went through'.

6. 'She remained friends with Melanie, dressed up as Melanie, agreed to play a fun sex game with Melanie'

None of these things point to her lying, and in fact are very plainly consistent with Timothy's story from the get go. Timothy always maintained the fact that for some time after the event occurred, it was hard to admit to herself that what happened was assault. Having that realisation took time, reflection & concerned reactions from friends when she would jokingly explain what happened. Therefore she stayed friends with Melanie & in her inner circle. As for the sex game... irrelevant. You can play a fun 'goofy' sex game with a friend but not intend to actually have sex with them.

7. 'Timothy Heller is Jealous & only wants Melanie's Fame & to Further Her own Music Career!'

This one is possibly the strangest of them all, yet seemingly the most prevalent take from hardcore fans.

First of all- being famous for being assaulted by a famous person, does not translate to personal fame in other endeavours outside of a minority of people who have eyes on the situation idly clicking on things out of sheer curiosity. 'Oh, this is 'the girl who was assaulted by Melanie Martinez's' music!'.

It is known that often, speaking up hinders people's careers which is why many in the industry & in life in general stay silent. This is exactly what happened to Timothy Heller- she was bullied, doxxed, threatened, stalked and harassed into hiding; not only doing wonders I'm sure for her mental health; but also putting her potential music career to a complete halt for some time.

Timothy has absolutely nothing to gain from coming out. Truly nothing. Not money, not fame in her personal endeavours, nothing but the possibility of justice on a social level; combined with the risk of further social ridicule & threat to her physical safety. She is putting herself on the line to double down on her story. After all she went through after coming forward the first time, she is completely willing to die on this hill so to speak. That shocked me...

In 2017, though even my younger self was appalled by the way fans were handling the situation and treating Timothy; it really did feel more like a 'he said, she said' situation. However, now after the fact of her making that video, the emotion in her voice, her never straying form the initial story; Melanie's inconsistencies...

I believe her.

& if you don't... touché; it's true that none of us were there. Though I feel that picture is quite clear when all of the misinformation is cleared away; which was the intention of this post.

8. Note that Melanie's tendency to be sexually coercive has been Reiterated by people other than Timothy

Melanie's former stylist, Madeleine Carina came out on Twitter not long after Timothy with the following statement:

“Something similar (not r*pe) happened w/ me and Mel. She begged me over and over again to sleep with her n I finally gave in. She wore me down. I said yes. But it was not the same with Timothy. I will support @timothyheller till the end.”

While Madeleine herself clarifies that she didn't consider her situation assault as she did eventually say yes; it does shed light on this kind of behaviour being a pattern for Melanie.

//

Some closing thoughts: reviewing all of this information, I think there's a strong chance that Melanie herself genuinely doesn't believe that she crossed a line & has a sort of cognitive dissonance about it. There is room for all sorts of shades of grey when it comes to understanding human emotions & intentions, but this wouldn't negate the way this occurrence affected Timothy either way. I read somewhere 'If Timothy wasn't a victim before, she definitely is now considering the way she's been treated all these years'.

Thankyou for reading, & I hope this shed some light on things ✌🏼🤍🤍

[glorious-blackout]

ten people i'd like to get to know better

I was tagged by @daddy-long-legssss and @yellowloid, thank you! 🥰💖

last song: Billie Eilish - Blue

favourite colour: Can never decide between red, blue or purple. Though certain musicians over the past couple of years have instilled a fondness for green in me 😅💚

last book: Have had a bit of a reading slump lately but I re-read 'Song of Achilles' by Madelline Miller and devoured it in a day. I'm currently on annual leave so I'm hopeful that I'll be able to dig into some books on my to-read list, and I've promised myself that I'll start the Lord of the Rings series before the end of the year... In terms of reading fic, I recently read and adored 'Four Walls' by the lovely @uhbasicallyjustmilex 💖

last movie: Saw both The Wild Robot and The Substance at the cinema this week, which were very different movies but I highly loved them both. I suspect I'll be thinking about the latter for a long time.

last TV show: I've been rewatching episodes of Taskmaster in between working on my fic, specifically series 12 as I have a massive crush on Victoria Coren-Mitchell 😅

sweet/spicy/savoury: Spicy, very closely followed by sweet.

relationship status: Happily single, though my best friend did declare us 'platonic soulmates' the other day and proposed buying a house together in Edinburgh 😂 Alas, having looked through Rightmove, we've agreed that moving to Edinburgh is in neither of our financial interests...

last thing I googled: Noyant-la-Gravoyère, for fic-related reasons.

current obsessions: Feel like I've ended up with a ton of mini-obsessions this year as opposed to one major one, but Fontaines D.C. and The Last Dinner Party are fairly high up that list as they've released my favourite albums of the year 💚 I've had a lot of fun digging into the works of Gojira, Kendrick Lamar and Leonard Cohen lately, and Billie Eilish's latest album remains on constant rotation. I've also had a reawakening of my love for David Gilmour, Käärijä and TLSP due to a combination of two amazing gigs and the process of writing my fic.

looking forward to: I have a few gigs coming up which I'm really excited for, including Bob Vylan next week, Kneecap next month and Fontaines D.C. in December 💚 I'm also excited to make more progress on editing my fic and finally unleashing it into the world, even though it's only in that pesky early draft stage for the moment 😅

tagging: @rock-n-roll-fantasy, @aeolianblues, @see-sawed, @thespiritofvexation, @king-of-kaoss, @burn-on-the-flame and @chrysochromulina 💖

[leonenjoyer69]

Invades your inbox

Hihihihi!!! I wanna ask, what are some songs that remind you of J+H :33??? ((/nf))

HELLO!! :33 THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK! THERE ARE SO MANY KVKSKVKSLC

OKAY, SO! First of all, *casually drops my J&H inspired playlist* all the songs I mention are on here, (WHICH ARE ALL SONGS THAT REMIND ME OF JEKYLL AND HYDE (all songs I've been recently obsessed with, someday ill go back in my liked songs lmao) AND SOME REASONS FOR SONGS ARE SUPER SPECIFIC, PLZ DON'T BULLY ME PEOPLE 🙏) so if you mayhaps wanna listen to any of the mentioned songs, they're there :3

BUT, ONTO THE SONGS AND REASONS!

Of course there's all the Will Wood songs from this list I did forever ago, but there are some other Will Wood songs I didn't put on there, like -Ish (which reminds me of Jekyll) and Cicada Days (which is literally University Lanyon and Jekyll)

Onto the various artists!

Pray To God For Your Mother by Dance Gavin Dance- BIG Jekyll song to me. "Dependent on the medicine to keep my colors vivid", " part of me wants to believe that I will not come apart at the seams, that I will learn from the cut when I bleed", "blame it all on the lamest dude, blame it all on the payments due", " didn't think id have to answer for the lies I told myself, at least not so soon" I MEAN CMON

Lights Out by Mindless Self Indulgence- for Hyde, the little adrenaline junkie.

Mr. Doctor Man by Palaye Royale- Jekyll energy, ofc. "Mr doctor man questions his hands, lost his mind, clinically fine, but he found a way to cope, needle in his throat"

Necromancin Dancin by Bear Ghost- Hyde, but instead of it being, ya know, the dead, it's him unleashing the nightmares on Jekyll. "Now we've found it, I'm astounded, every town will be surrounded by a throng of marchin' death, delicious the riches that glisten ahead!" Plus all the dancing references work bc he unleashed them at that party :3

Ghost Town -Revisited- by Trickle- Jekyll, once more. "So sick of this city's disguise, it glowing on the surface but it's drowning in lies", "Is there a reason that I'm wanting to hide when I look into the mirror just to see empty eyes?", "ghost that tried living a tired life, I'm haunted by the memories I buried inside"

Evelyn Evelyn by Evelyn Evelyn- Jekyll and Hyde, another one where basically all the lyrics are spot on lmao, but I will say I see the feminine voice as Jekyll and the Masculine one as Hyde :3

Turn The Lights Off by Tally Hall- Jekyll and Hyde

There's also a lot of Chonny Jash ones! Obviously The Ballad of Dr Jekyll and The Mr Hyde Jive, but also:

A Devil's Tricks- this one is literally just Jekyll and Hyde, idek what else to say lmao. Like, this dude sitting in lowkey self loathing while his mind tells him bad things? Not to mention the accuracy of the lyrics in general. Id list them, but then id just be pasting the whole song 💀

End the Dance- Lanyon and Rachel being the ones caring, and then switches to Jekyll. Once again don't really know what lyrics to throw in lmao

Banana Man- Jekyll and Hyde, with the whole banana thing being Jekyll becoming Hyde. "Forget all your morals and go with the flow, forget about the bad the good is all you know, and forget about the voice that's lying deep inside, the one that's screaming and screeching proclaiming wrong from right" "tomorrow morning on the plane, no banana makes you go insane. Floating back to busy town, no banana makes you want to frown"

Don't Take It Personally- EOUGHKEKOGKD another angsty Jekyll and Lanyon song.. "You can surrender your heart, but it won't be enough, don't take it personally I'm afraid of love" "if the drugs aren't in my system, then what the hell has blurred my vision?" "My wrist and my heart where you kissed pulled apart" "so just keep playing your part, and ill keep calling your bluff, don't take it personally when push comes to shove"

Push- Jekyll, ofc pushing all his friends away. "I see you trying to slowly turn your back on them, the shadow of who you were when back when you felt condemned"

I also have a bunch of other CCCC songs but idk how to explain why my mind thinks they fit, so I'm just gonna list them and idk, some might get brief explanations

Ruler of Everything- Jekyll trying to stop Hyde from going out, then Hyde literally ruining his life.

Dream (Outro to Calamity)- kinda specific to my little "Whole Jekyll" AU (as most of these are to some slight degree)

The Mind Electric- Hyde

Be Born- also Hyde

Light- Jekyll and Hyde

Good Day- Jekyll

Just Apathy- Jekyll, with Hyde as mind

Two Wuv- Jekyll

Greener- once again, Jekyll

Mucka Blucka- Jekyll and Hyde, (and my "Whole" Jekyll)

We're gonna Win- Jekyll and Hyde (except eventually getting along)

There's some on my playlist ik I didn't mention, but I think this should be good for now, LMAO, AGAIN THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK GJSKKVKD ILY GUYS 🗣️🗣️🗣️

[catchingbigfish]

writeblr re-introduction | catchingbigfish

hi! call me elle (they/them). i'm in my 30s, work adjacent to the legal field in my day job, and i'm studying for my MA in english! i post more about my life over at my main, @prettytothink-so, which is also the account i follow from!

i'm a david lynch obsessive, hence the url/pfp, but i love death bed: the bed that eats as much as i do blue velvet. my primary literary influences are shirley jackson, carmen maria machado, janet fitch, confessional poets, and more recently, a healthy dose of knausgaard.

i write prose & poetry with a heavy emphasis on the body, the darker sides of life, and relationships. my fiction is character-centric, driven by ensemble casts of weird and fucked up people, and characters tend to go through exquisite and grotesque things like body horror, warped and broken time, hauntings, posessions, and sex. my work is definitely 18+ and i try not to engage with minors.

i'd love to get to know other writers, esp if you write/read any of the following:

dysfunctional relationships (particularly with ensemble casts and found or of-origin families)

horror and gothic literature

body horror, nightmares, and dream logic

romance, including sex, and relationships, esp. in horror themes

i like to say i'm always open to ask + tag games, but i'm most likely to respond to an ask game than a tag! if you wanna know more about my wips, see below the cut for my primary projects or check out my wip masterlist:

click the titles for the wip intros!

conversion

status: drafted (80k words); w/ beta readers short synopsis: Rosalyn arrives to campus for her MFA in fashion-making and falls into a group of sick women artists bonded by a disputed diagnosis. She starts faking it to fit in, finds the friendships she'd always wanted, and ends up with a choice between the unthinkable and her new ride-or-die crew.

dark academia/litfic/cult novel. this project has had me in a chokehold for 18+ months and it's the most fun i've ever had writing something. stay tuned for my query journey, coming to you probably near the end of this year!

might've been, never was

status: drafted (55k words) short synopsis: Lily and her friends thought their thirties would be different. They find a way to adopt new bodies, but one of them takes it too far, and the rest have to decide whether to stop her or join in.

a satire in the same vein as conversion. currently vying with the next two WIPs for main focus while betas work through conversion. project playlist is 2 songs: teen idle and celebrity skin. the closest i'll ever come to autofiction because the idea to write "a love letter to being mentally ill in your 30s" came up when i was a teensy bit manic.

seed of the woman

status: drafted (27k words) short synopsis: A woman goes on a Christian yoga retreat hoping to return to some sense of her self. Instead, she's bitten by a snake and goes on a tour through the choices that led her here.

body horror/religious horror novella. nightmare/dream-logic story that's my latest attempt to write something explaining how rational and reasonable a choice it would be for a woman to choose satan over god.

on fire

status: drafting short synopsis: Elissa wakes up one day after being cheated on with the power to consume creative energy from men she seduces.

the novella i conceived on december 21 and outlined and zero drafted on december 24. very similar to SOTW in structure (based on the outline template i made for it, in fact) and similar in its feminine-rage-in-a-magical-realist-world themes; inspired by the baobhan sith figure, the MC is kind of a succubus/vampire/cannibal mix. set at the same university as conversion! i stole this title from a terrible novel i wrote at 19 btw. the emphasis is on "on", like "a treatise on", not being lit on fire. it is very pretentious.

heartbeat

status: outlining short synopsis: A coming-of-age saga about a nonbinary kid who realizes not every carries their heart outside of their body and struggles to figure out what to do with it.

kind of an epic saga in the style of middlesex where a nonbinary kid has to learn to deal with being different, grows into an adult with no coping skills, and all of the dysfunctional family dynamics you would anticipate with me writing it

[wayfayrr]

I can't quite believe this was first in my drafts in feb and I've only gotten to actually writing it these last two weeks.

This fic was based off of five songs from spotify shuffling one of my playlists which was an idea inspired by @trulytiredhermit and then it kinda just went from there

the songs that I based it on were: To my enemies - Saint motel, stalker’s tango - Autoheart, meet me in the woods - Lord Huron, The red means I love you - Madds Buckley and Bitter water by the oh hellos

You know they say you're nobody until someone wants you dead, and I can't help but feel like it's morbidly accurate for everything that's happened to me recently.

That weird shadow brought me here for whatever, most likely because it wants my head for some reason. and then all of a sudden?

I'm one of the most important people to the heroes of Hyrule, brought here by fate for whatever reason and they all love me… although love might not be the best way to describe it. If you were to ask any of them they'd say "It feels so wrong it's right" Heh how ridiculous to be that obsessed, so I ran as far as I could, lost in a world that isn't my own and one that shouldn’t exist out of fiction. Those boys that I once cared for; who promised me they'd find me someway home, but talk is cheap after all and it's oh so effortless to lie when it brings you so many benefits.

The situation was so incredibly strange, I don't think there's any amount of time where I could've gotten used to it despite what they would say. it started, well I can't say normally as nothing about this is normal, but it started well. they were themselves, they were still sane. but then they started to slip letting me out of their sight, less and less and less until it was like I had to be in at least one of their line of sight at all times, they wouldn't let me talk about my home, wouldn't let me focus on things that weren't them always trying to justify it whether it was to me or themselves I could never tell. Perhaps it was both?

This little journey I’ve taken into the unknown?

Oh, I’ll go back changed, I wonder if those I cared about would even recognise me at this point. How long have I been away at this point, it feels like ages yet my phone says it’s only days. Well in the games back home the games always ran on a much faster time scale, it wouldn’t be impossible that I’m still running off of real-world time; if anything it makes more sense with how I’ve not needed to eat or sleep for days on end. I’ve never been away from the links for this long, not since I started travelling with them that is. They’re probably worried sick at this point; it’s probably only a matter of hours until they do manage to find me. Until Wolfie sniffs me out, Sky uses Fi to dowse for my signal, or even Wild traces me with his slate.

“[name]?”

And with that last thought it’s as if I’ve jinxed myself and my hiding spot. The one thing I can be glad for is that it’s Sky who found me, while his anger is terrifying it’s not on the same level as Time, Warrior or Light forbid if Legend was the one to find me. Sky is oh-so-nice compared to them, even if he is a yandere with a strange fascination, a near-obsessive infatuation.

he still treats me like I'm a person though, so there's that. He, I think if I were to end up with any of them it would be him. 

"oh by Hylia, [name] are you alright? you've been missing for so long, we thought you were kidnapped, but by the looks of it, you've managed to escape them! even, even if it did leave you hurt"

his smile doesn't look right. he's lying, lying straight to my face... 

but it's not like he's lying to me. No, it's like he's trying to convince himself that's what happened. His concern is sweet despite how misplaced it may be; I can't bring myself to break it to him that it's not what happened. Unless...

I couldn't, could I?

oh, but I could.

"link, I- I wasn't kidnapped. I was scared of how the others are acting, I didn't feel safe so- so I ran as far as I could"

This affected me more than I thought, seeing as I could barely finish the sentence without stuttering or coming close to bursting into tears, I hope he reacts the way I want him to and by the look of it, he will.

His face instantly fell when I said that, filled with pity and something else I can't quite put my finger on, the closest thing I can think of is pride but even that doesn't seem right, is, is he smug? Why would he be smug that I’m scared of the others when I…

“Oh my dove, you don't need to be worried now, I'm here. I'm the only one you trust after all; the only one of us you need. you're my betrothed, my one true love until the end of time"

his"betrothed", when did he- how would he- how didn't I realise? Is Skyloftian culture so different to my own? oh, what am I saying of course it's that different. why is he reaching for - the feather? he proposed when he gave me that earring, didn't he?

"I knew I made the right choice when I chose you as mine, we’re perfect for each other can’t you see? And I know I shouldn't love you, I know I shouldn't love you but I do and nothing will separate me from you again as long as I draw breath.”

And isn’t that the truth, that look in his eyes, that stupid lovesick look. I’m not a fool entire for I know exactly what it means. The idea that even if I somehow made it home…

He would find me.

And he would never let go.

How are you even supposed to respond to something like this? This declaration of ownership, that no matter what I do I’m his. To think how I idolised him when he was nothing more than a game character, how naive was I?

Even still I can’t bring myself to hate him, even if he’s a walking red flag. Even if he’s someone I should run from in fear - It’s still Sky, still the only one to welcome me with open arms, the only one to treat me ever so kindly when I was petrified of everything.

Part of me is telling me to leave, to do what's smart and practical. But another part is pulling me towards staying, following my heart even if it means taking a risk. I know I’d have regrets either way for I would be losing something I care for no matter my choice and I’ll need to say something soon to him, even if it’s a lie. I can’t bear to see him so worried, even knowing where that worry is from.

I don't know what the right choice is, but I know that I have to make a decision. And no matter what I choose, I'll have to live with the consequences.

[laundrybiscuits]

Tagged by @greenlikethesea! Genuinely quite touched that you thought to tag me even though I've basically been MIA lately!

last song: "The Party" by Yuna

favorite color: Celadon and indigo, probably

last book: “Land of Milk and Honey” by C. Pam Zhang—a near-future climate dystopia scifi (I refuse to say cli-fi. I won’t do it. I REFUSE.) that’s sort of like…The Menu meets Venomous Lumpsucker, with bonus toxic yuri and a commentary on "heritage"-oriented conservation ethics and Orientalism.

last movie: "I Saw the TV Glow" which was absolutely right up my alley.

(For some reason, I kept thinking of Chungking Express; they are obviously VERY different films, but there's something about the way both start out with a lot of space and sort of collapse inwards, getting tighter and tighter before releasing the tension in a sudden but understated shift. I don't think this is necessarily a very strong analytical angle, but I might go watch Chungking Express again anyway.)

last show: Does Dropout count? If we’re talking scripted TV, I recently rewatched some IWTV.

sweet/spicy/savory: I think my favorite foods (e.g. nyonya laksa) are actually all of the above! Why pit three bad bitches etc etc. I also genuinely enjoy bitter/sour flavor notes—I don't think my palate is particularly sophisticated, but I do appreciate a little contrast and balance. 

relationship status: Happily partnered!

last thing I googled: "samyang scoville chart"

current obsession: The un-fun answer is work. It is actually a legit character flaw that I get a bit intense about work; I really need to set better boundaries, but somehow I always have an excuse about why this is totally absolutely just a temporary push while [justification du jour] is going on. It's not great.

Fandom-wise, I’ve been a bit tempted to dip into Wicked lately—shockingly, there aren’t that many Gelphie fics on AO3?? Wild. I do not actually have the time or energy to actually do anything at the moment, but I was into the Oz books as a child + Maguire's Wicked as a teen, it was my very first Broadway show, and I just interviewed someone who worked on the movie. Perhaps most crucially, I also recently read an extremely bad take in a professional review that Wicked is boring because it's about not being mean to green people.

Historically, spite has been a VERY effective motivator for me. I don't have time but I keep thinking...maybe I do? I mean, I don't. But maybe I do?

looking forward to: Seeing a bunch of my friends soon! Ever since I moved back to the US about a year ago, my social life has gotten a little, ah, idiosyncratic. My life is in kind of a weird place right now!