#be nice to my crossover please

[u3pxx]

you must be aware that all of the things i draw are very self-indulgent and for me only

[corviiids]

thinking about light yagami guest starring on sesame street

[chibishortdeath]

This is such a niche crossover idk if the fandom even overlaps that much but anyone else like Shaun of the Dead? I was thinking about it a bit ago and thought something along the lines of ��Ed gives huge Sans vibes” and then thought about it more and well, et voila lol.

I definitely made Sans’s head too small in the first image but eh whatever. Second image is what the first one is based on, and the last two are based on some other screenshots from the movie (to anyone I accidentally spoiled this film for I am so sorry, but pls watch it anyway it’s so good—)

[riveluart]

Royai Week 2023 Day 5 Dreamers

Did you mean Fighting Dreamers?

(I’m sorry I saw the word “dreamers” and my hand slipped)

[crookedfivefingers]

NOTE 7/23: The actual first chapter of this fic is now significantly different! Just keeping this post here for archive purposes, I suppose 😂

NOTE 8/13: The first chapter is now up!

I had this thought about Ten and Martha traveling back to Venice in the 1700s.

Naturally, they wind up separated during the trip — which is how Martha eventually finds herself in the company of a charming, if hauntingly familiar stranger…

One who can’t seem to keep his eyes off of her.

Ten x Martha | Martha x Casanova

✨WIP snip from ch.1✨

In May of 1758, the many streets of Venice are packed for the annual Feast of the Ascension —but a day filled with food and laughter is cut short when Martha loses sight of the Doctor in the crowds.

By the time she’s finally able to break free and locate the missing Time Lord, she’s stunned to see him being tugged into a carriage by a beautiful young woman… A carriage that swiftly disappears down the road and out of sight.

Alone, hurting, and more than a little cross, Martha suddenly realizes that she’s stranded in an unfamiliar city… over two hundred years in the past. Bloody brilliant.

She can’t even remember where they parked the TARDIS at this point — not with the endless narrow alleyways and labyrinthine streets.

It’s a modest blessing, but she takes some comfort in knowing she’s at least dressed appropriately for the times, straightening her elaborate wig as she begins walking in the carriage’s general direction.

As time passes, the sun tucks itself away beneath the edge of the horizon, and the crowds finally begin to dissipate. Without the excess noise and foot traffic, Martha has more room to process the events of the evening, sort-of-searching for the long-lost carriage (but mostly brooding) as she puts increasing wear on her shoes.

After some time, the sound of music and laughter drifts into her ears, catching her attention to pull her from the darkness of her thoughts. She allows herself to be drawn towards it without hesitation, and not three minutes later, she’s standing at the edge of a ballroom in the Palazzo Pisani Moretta.

Partying shouldn’t be top of mind, of course — but after a full day of celebrating throughout the city, she can’t imagine putting any more stress on her aching feet. The poor extremities scream for reprieve in the wedge sandals that hide beneath her skirt, scolding her for not putting more thought into her choice of footwear.

To be fair, the move to enter the building isn’t entirely void of strategy. After all, the Doctor could be in here. Seems like just the sort of place his little date might like to mingle, she thinks with a healthy roll of her eyes.

To say the Palazzo is extravagant is putting it mildly. In addition to what may well be a few hundred elite guests in attendance, the spacious hall is adorned from floor to ceiling with finery, the glowing chandeliers illuminating marble statues and countless works of art. Servers in masquerade weave through the crowd with practiced ease, trays of nibbles and beverages balancing on splayed fingertips.

Feeling inspired, Martha snags a cup of wine as soon as she’s close enough to reach for one, downing half of the bitter, eighteenth-century swill with as much haste as her twenty-first-century taste buds will allow. She forces a smile through her grimace when the server looks to her for approval, still concerned with cordiality [even as she crashes a party wherein she knows no one at all].

Partygoers welcome her readily: happy socialites with hair as big and dramatic as the wig she’s been regretting picking out all day. The compliments they lavish her with almost make it feel worth the hassle, however, and in that moment, she’s grateful that the Doctor let her raid the wardrobe. It feels so much easier to exist in a time period without standing out — at least, more than she already feels she does as a black woman.

(The Time Lord really can be thick, can’t he?)

Over and onward, Martha decides to let loose as much as she can, keeping a wary eye out between little sips of murky, purple wet. It’s been at least three hours since she last saw her mate, and though the environment that surrounds her is intoxicating, she can’t deny the little pinpricks of worry that emerge in her gut.

Surely he wouldn’t just sod off for a shag... would he? Leave her all alone without a word?

Is that really something the Doctor is capable of after everything they’ve been through?

An image of his disappearance flitters across her mind’s eye: a flash of a woman’s smiling face as she drags him into her fancy carriage by the lapels, her giggles resounding off the stone walls as they slip away together.

Another image nips at the heels of the former, only this time, it’s the Doctor’s stony expression as he returns from across the field in Farringham, having just had a proposition rejected by Nurse Redfern. The same proposition he made the morning after finding out how his companion truly felt for him, easily filing that information away as a “non-issue.”

Alright, so maybe he can be a bit of a tosser. Great. Maybe he has no interest in being found just yet, being fully aware that Martha can handle her own.

Everything’s always on his terms, anyway.

Furthermore, and she hates to even think it in the first place, but: who’s to say he didn’t think slipping out unannounced was the only way to get away from her for the night?

Blimey. If that’s the way he really thinks of her...

No. No, no, no — those thoughts aren't helpful for anyone. Not right now.

Worst case scenario, Martha will find a kind local to seek shelter with before night’s end, though she prays it doesn’t come to that. The idea of even thinking about sleeping knowing the Doctor is just out there somewhere makes her stomach churn — even if he has got… friendly company.

Sigh.

Time for more wine, she reckons; her eyes flick about the crowd until she spots the closest server, and then she attempts to head in her direction.

While en route, a portly man in technicolor robes requests a dance, which she turns down as politely as possible. Then another guest — a dark-haired noblewoman about forty-five years old — stumbles on the mosaic when her heels catch the train of another woman’s dress, and Martha helps her to her feet.

All the servers carting wine around only seem to be getting further away, and it feels like a sign. Perhaps she shouldn’t be consuming any more alcohol — at least, not until she has a little more peace of mind.

To her surprise, she doesn’t have to wait long at all.

Through a sea of bobbing heads, swaying bodies shrouded in brightly-colored fabrics, and a thin haze of incense smoke, their eyes lock from across the room — and Martha briefly foregoes the right to oxygen.

She knows she should be relieved (or perhaps furious — definitely furious), but as her throat grows tight and dry, all she’s got the presence of mind to feel is the frantic fluttering of her heartbeat as blood roars in her ears.

The Doctor has never looked at her like that.

Temporarily immobile, she can only watch as he approaches her with deliberate, single-minded steps, the dance floor seeming to part naturally around him. He doesn’t falter or pause and he doesn’t need to; this man claims a route that no one capable of sight would dare interfere.

Somehow, in the last few hours, he’s wound up in a loose red tunic, tight black trousers — tights, essentially — and matching black boots. A black, silken band wraps around his neck, purely decorative, bringing the black from the rest of the outfit together to complete the look.

It’s an entirely different getup than the one she helped him pick out this morning, but let it be known that it’s no less gorgeous for it. Even his hair is different than she’s ever seen it, appearing softer and lighter with significantly less product than usual (if any at all), and he looks…

Bloody hell, he looks incredible.

When he arrives, he gets quite close — closer than Martha’s body and mind are anywhere near recovered enough to be prepared for — and she has just enough time to notice the color of his eyes when he takes her hand.

Are his eyes... blue?

The smile he fixes her with is slow and certain; it simmers just as the gaze he ensnares her with. He seems to reach right into her soul’s lowered defenses to bury himself at the thick of it, lifting her hand to his mouth to rest his gentle lips against her skin.

The touch is just jarring enough to wrench Martha out from the clouds as the realization hits her.

This man is not the Doctor.

“I hope you’ll forgive me,” he murmurs, his voice and cadence eerily identical to the one she knows. “If I'm honest, I just couldn’t resist your magnetism for another moment longer.”

His words, though softly spoken, seem louder than anyone or anything else in the room, effectively shutting the rest of the world out.

"Erm," Martha chokes, eyes wide. Stunned. "I-I, er..." She shakes her head slowly, her voice (and brain) temporarily evading her. It feels as though she's fallen through a crack in dimensions. Perhaps she has.

“Right — sorry," the man chuckles. "Bit rude of me. My name's Giac." He finally lowers her hand between them, flashing a wink, giving her fingers the softest of squeezes before letting them slip through his. "Though I must admit... I am far more eager to learn yours.”

Note: This is a post-Blink story in which Martha is seduced by Giacomo, inspiring clarity and an almost possessive jealousy within the Doctor. How ever will he handle it? I’ve also considered an eventual threesome, but should that happen, it will be strictly het Martha-worship. (Also, per the David Tennant miniseries, Giac is pronounced “Jack”)

[lunaballoona09]

more extremely niche ii x warrior cats ... taco's tirade wip

mepad's expressiob had me EXPLODING it was so hard

[not-a-real-fan]

Plotting a DCxAsoiaf crossover primarily to feed my Jason Todd obsession loosely inspired by details within the three references below.

My heart just wants to give my oc someone to arch her back and Jason needs someone to get his too. Im playing with the idea of Lazarus pits being gateways between worlds or realities and instead of being pulled out of the pit by Talia Jason is lost in the ruins of Old Valyria. This occurs at the point of my ocs timeline where she just happens to be in Valyria and coincidentally they stumble upon each other while sheltering from remnants of the Doom. There’s some scavenging and many allusions to the Bloodraven and such. Set in Westeros/Essos before the events of the book 266Ac-280Ac ish. I haven’t decided if I want to dive into the original plot or not but GRRM set up a massive world to explore and there’s plenty of story potential outside the primary locations.

Inspired by:

[weirdw33b]

When you're searching for a Shinonome sibling...

Look, the title probably doesn't explain anything so here's a bit of context

I had an English assessment where I had to write 2 nova fictions (just 9 sentences stories) with the prompt of a brother returning

I wrote 2 short stories where Fuuta was the brother returning and Akito was the one reacting to said return, I just changed the names

I started Akito's pov saying that he wasn't an ordinary person and him listing the reasons why he wasn't a normal guy, which included his family

And I wanted to rewrite it since it was only 9 sentences

And I've gone "Hey, what if there was another Shinonome Sibling that looked like Ena?"

I'm now revisiting Bungou Stray Dogs at 11:45pm with the want to make DAZAI a Shinonome without Fuuta (sorry)

I also have their ablitites, so, who knows?

[silverloreleysfanfics]

Act 1

I promised myself I wouldn't start another WIP when I already have so many and also I didn't make any breakthrough with my thesis in so long, but... but the first chapter of the TTEOTM x LBFAD fic I outlined here basically wrote itself, so here it is.

It's in draft form, it's long and unedited (I need to study some things more and fix a few others), no beta we die like Pian Ran (too soon?) Chu Huang (it’s already a tag on AO3 lol) and I also have no title yet.

Also, no promises I'll continue this anytime soon, be aware of this.

That said, here it is (first part out, the rest under cut):

§§§

It was cold. Heavens above, it was so cold, and all hurt so much, her eye, her head, her whole body. Her soul, even.

Li Susu tried, she tried to endure the pain, the disappointment, the guilt.

Oh, the guilt, the neverending guilt towards a world she couldn't save no matter her efforts, towards her family still destined to die, one by one, in front of her future self, towards herself for forcing all that pain and ordeals only to fail... and even towards him, her treacherous heart screeched, the one who loved her so strongly and yet she had to betray for everyone's sake, unable to find another route sooner, incapable of looking for one where they all could live.

She berated herself, for her mistakes and the pain in her heart alike, a pain she wasn't supposed to feel, not for him and yet... yet...

No, she had to push forth. It didn't matter what the God of Time said, that they were always destined to that, that there was no other choice, no other route, she had to complete the immortal essence for him, no matter what.

After all, she had been ready to die when she departed from her time. It wasn't like she had any hopes for herself to begin with. Her only wish was to fix things for everyone else.

Distracted and too tired to go on with the cultivation, she acknowledged she had to stop for the day. Eating and taking care of herself in the Cold Palace were ordeals that consumed much of her physical strength, so she tried to do the least possible, her mission the only thing that counted, to complete the cultivation and exchange the Evil Bone with Immortal Essence. Then she could rest, die with heart eased by knowing she'd done all she could.

Somebody had brought her food, as it often happened. Li Susu suspected either Pian Ran or her brother were doing so behind the emperor's back because the foods were usually good, and Pian Ran herself showed up with medicine every two days.

Somebody must have been helping her with other things, she suspected, although she had no idea who or why, her hearing and eyesight too bad to catch a glimpse of them even when she wasn't focusing on cultivating the essence.

Gratefully, she grabbed some of the food, munching it down in slow bites. It wasn't as good as always, or perhaps her taste was declining as well. It felt a little bitter, but so did the water, somehow.

It mattered not. She finished eating and went to sleep, the coppery taste of blood on her tongue overwhelmed her taste buds soon, as it often happened, and just as it often was, exhaustion claimed her quickly.

Yet, that time, that broken body didn't wake.

From the depth of the prison, Ye Bingchang waited for news of her sister's death, unaware she just caused the end of her world with her selfish envy.

§

Xiao Lanhua didn't often go back to the original Siming Hall, as her replica of it in Xishan was more than enough a home for her, as it was for the 500 years she waited in there for her love to return to her.

But, as Siming herself was exiled and the old Goddess of Fate never had other apprentices, Xiao Lanhua felt it was still her duty to take care of the destiny books, even more so now that with her powers as the Goddess of Xishan she could repair the damaged ones with more ease that she ever did.

Therefore, once in a while, she warned her husband she'd leave for a while, ignored his scoffs and whining not to go, and went to her old home to see what she had to do.

Siming Hall was almost abandoned, although Danyin had made sure to install a few guards there ever since she became the Goddess of War to make sure no one would steal or damage further the books, a little courtesy between the two former fairies now Goddesses who were also sisters-in-law.

In the past centuries, the plants Xiao Lanhua had helped with their cultivation had become able to get a mostly stable human form and took upon themselves the task to gather the fallen books and clean up the place so that Xiao Lanhua would find it pristine and liveable as it was when she inhabited the place full time.

As such when, one visit like any other, Xi Yun descended onto the front entrance of Siming Hall, the guards greeted her with the usual respect, she nodded back at them and entered, suspecting nothing out the ordinary.

At least, until she got closer to the Destiny Tree.

She felt it before she saw it.

One tiny bit of something misplaced, not in the wide area she worked on, but up on the tree itself. A leaf different from the rest. A Destiny Book she had to check. She looked up, ignoring the small pile of damaged leaves gathered for her on the desk, searching for the book that called for her, with an urgency at her core that told her to see what was going on impossible to ignore. Looking for the cause of the thin spike of worry puncturing her heart.

She located the book with ease and called for it.

It was like any other at first sight: a golden leaf, with a human's name, a mortal. The name meant "cinders", a strange one, as humans believed the names they gave to their children carried meanings and expectations and that was a humble, if not ominous, one.

And then she delved into it and saw what was wrong. The glowing veins didn't shine a bright gold, but red: crimson filaments engulfed a fate that was just beginning, the same sick, awful tinge as...

"Tai Sui?" she whispered, incredulous.

No, that wasn't possible. Xi Yun had destroyed the Evil God, she had been ready to give her all, Dongfang Qinchang had given his all, to destroy it and never have its poisoning presence taint the Three Realms again.

Tai Sui has been gone for over six hundred years, he couldn't be back.

And yet.

Over that mortal life hanged the grasp of Tai Sui, the boy's destiny was to grow into the Evil God, to become the Evil God himself, the vessel Tai Sui had been looking for ever since he lost his physical form.

She looked further in the book: his mother dead in childbirth, he was to be discareded by his father and seen as misfortune and a murderer before he could even emit his first cry, the nurses would find he already had teeth at birth and consider it another omen of disgrace, and that he wouldn't be able to express feelings, or even have them.

Perceived as different by other mortals, he'd be hurt and mistreated his whole life long, destined to suffer one abuse after another and eventually he'd die, widowed, in a cold snowy night, after which Tai Sui would be able to take control of his body and start the path towards the destruction of the world he so craved with the madness and pain imbued in the young man and the army of demons freed from the Barren Abyss.

Not even the Goddess of Xishan would be able to stop him, not this time.

She considered, for a moment, to pretend she never saw it, remembering her shifu's teachings about not changing mortals' fates, but that was too important. This was a fate that had to be changed, no matter what, no matter the price. The Tianji Mirror lit up with a soft orange glow right that moment. Xiao Lanhua had never seen it open in person, and dreaded what she could see in it.

"Xi Yun, Goddes of Xishan" a voice called from it.

She frowned and got closer. It didn't seem like a vision of the future, as she had been told those were silent, while this one called her by name. The mirror didnt't show much, just an opaque outline of a male figure with white hair.

"I am. Who are you?"

"I'm Ji Ze, God of Time"

Her frown ran deeper. Everyone in Shuiyuntian knew the story of how the gods had perished, long before the war between the fairies and moon tribe, how the only god left had been Ming Ye, God of War, who had also disappeared, consumed by his own grief, they said.

Yet, perhaps, the God of Time could reach past and future. Yes, that would make sense.

"I need your help, Xi Yun. Only you can set in motion what's needed to change the Fate in your hands"

"How?"

"The Devil Fetus' fate is written in that book, but it can be changed. You altered destinies before, you must find a way for this too. Another tried and almost managed, yet couldn't complete her mission and shall go through that mortal life again. Help her, Xi Yun, help Li Susu"

"What do I do?"

"The reason the Devil God can reform is an Evil Bone. Destroying the Evil Bone is the first step towards salvation. Li Susu knows how to. Please, do what you can to save the Three Realms and Four Continents"

"It's my responsibility, as the Goddess of Xishan, to finish what I started and destroy the Evil God for good" she replied and could almost hear the relieved sigh coming from the old god.

"Thank you. I'll leave it to you"

The Mirror dulled again and disappeared from the trunk, hidden as always.

Filled with dread, Xiao Lanhua tried to look for Li Susu's book, but she couldn't find it, not on the tree, nor among the ones to repair. A life not yet existing, or one already destroyed?

Xiao Lanhua hoped for the first.

After hiding the future Devil God's destiny book in her clothes, she penned a message to alert the Goddess of War, sending it with her powers through the air, hoping it would reach her as soon as possible.

She was certain Dongfang Qingcang was already on his way to Simingdian, as he seldom was able to let her stay on her own for too long and often showed up unannounced while she was working. She half-suspected his impromptu visits were also to annoy Lord Yunzhong, who couldn't deny the Yuezun to see his wife.

Therefore, she left on the desk another message for her husband to find. She couldn't wait to gather everyone there. Minutes in the immortal realms were days in the mortal lands, if she wanted to do something about it, provided there was something to do, it had to be done immediately, so she left for Yunmengze.

Changheng, under the pseud of Xiao Run, owned a teahouse in Lucheng those days. It was one of the activities he had tried his hand at in the years he moved to the mortal realm, after the fall out with his brother had become too grave to keep living in Shuiyuntian.

Lord Yunzhong would have wanted Changheng to marry, as he insisted the God of War's true potential could be achieved only through a powerful marriage, and had started to line-up potential matches against his will. Changheng's refusal to stay the God of War, going as far as to recommend Danyin to take his place, had caused a rift between the brothers that, added to their other issues, became a permanent break in about two centuries' time.

Therefore, Changheng seldom came back to Shuiyuntian nowadays and kept switching identies and jobs every few decades, to try the whole spectrum of mortal life.

It didn't help that Changheng had, once again, defied his brother's will in order to follow his heart. First his broken heart, which refused to tie itself to anyone, after he lost his first love.

Then, time later, out of love for himself, that made him realize how little he had valued his own life, and how childish his infatuation had been. How much more he loved life when he was free to decide for himself.

His friends and former enemies had turned into his family: Danyin was both his sworn sister and student, Xiao Lanhua had become a cherished sister as well,  Dongfang Qingcang had gotten used to be his sworn brother again, and even Xunfeng sometimes slipped and called him with familiarity.

All of them were welcome to find him at any given moment, his house and any property he owned were open for them at all times.

So he didn't wonder why Xiao Lanhua - who everybody in Lucheng currently believed to be his sister - appeared in the teahouse unannounced.

He did, although, worry when he saw how she carried herself. Long time before, any feeling could have been read on her face with extreme ease, and it still was the case, when she was relaxed. But when she wasn't, only Xi Yun could be seen, the algid, perfectly controlled Goddess of Xishan.

Her friends and family knew when Xi Yun took over there had to be some issue she was struggling with. Xiao Lanhua hid behind her goddess persona when things were too hard to bear, she had for most the 500 years after Tai Sui's destruction and, at times, even after, because she didn't trust herself enough to deal with certain matters as her old self, the little plant with the damaged root she had been for most her life felt inadequate, no matter how much she'd grown and how many things she went through. Some scars never healed, it turned out. Judging by how controlled her every movement was and how no trace of a smile could be found on her lips or eyes, the matter had to be grave indeed.

"Is something wrong?" Changheng couldn't but ask, and Xi Yun nodded once. "Everyone else should be arriving soon, I need some time to think it through before I explain it all" was her reply.

Changheng didn't ask more and led her to one of the private sitting rooms, the kind reserved for important meetings, with thick walls and sturdy doors to grant secrecy.

Danyin arrived two hours later, which must have been no more than a handful of minutes in Shuiyuntian.

"What happened?" the Goddess of War had asked, worried by the sudden convocation.

Unable to give a proper answer, Changheng had pointed her to the room and waited for the rest to come around.

Xunfeng appeared soon after, a raised brow and a tad of disappointment at not having been convocated in person. Danyin scowled his way when she saw him before he could utter a single word and shook her head, at which he merely scoffed and sat by her side, his impatience hidden with the ease of his diplomatic ability carefully cultivated in the past centuries as interim Yuezun.

Quicker than expected, Dongfang Qingcang strode in, followed by Shangque and Jieli, his first act falling on a knee by his wife's side and cupping her face with both hands, antsy at the sight of her darkened looks.

Xi Yun instantly relaxed a bit, leaned on the soft touch of her love, but the tightness in her features didn't disappear, making all of them even more worried.

"What is it?" the Yuezun stared at his wife, who shook her head and silently prompted him to seat.

Changheng closed the door behind him and sat too.

"You're all here" Xiao Lanhua whispered, relieved.

"Your message seemed urgent, did something happen?"

"Not yet, but..." she put the destiny book in the middle of the table, pinning it with her index finger, as if afraid it could disappear from her sight if she didn't keep holding onto it.

"This is a mortal's book," she began "I felt something wrong when I visited Simingdian earlier, and the reason is this" she activated it, showing the red tendrils that entangled the bright words.

Xunfeng tilted his head "What is that supposed to mean, a-sao?"

"Immortals' destiny books have their own peculiar glow. Mortals' books are less intense. But this never happened before, I had to know why, so I checked it out" she took a breath "This mortal will be the reincarnation of Tai Sui"

"What?"

"Impossible!"

"You destroyed him!"

"I thought so too!" she replied, quieting them "Some part of him must have stayed hidden somewhere, perhaps in the mortal realm, and now it'll come back, taking the body of this mortal upon his death"

"How long?"

"Not much. A couple decades, I guess. He'll be married but he'll be still young when he'll die. Widowed, actually"

She then read the prophecy aloud: "Marred with the sin of his mother's death, he'll be rejected by blood and kin, not a soul moved by love. Torment will follow and pain will court him. No glory will last, no happiness will stay. The day of his wife's death, he too will perish in the snow, to awaken as the bringer of the world's end. The Barren Abyss will open anew, the demons will find him and recognize him as their Lord, and all shall be bleak"

"What can we do?"

"Kill him, of course"

"We can't kill a child, he's innocent right now"

"He's a mortal, how long can he stay alive? A century at most and he'll die anyway"

Xi Yun explained again: "We can't, didn't you hear it? It will be his death that will mark Tai Sui's return"

Danyin pursed her lips "We need to get ready to fight him again, then"

"The best option is to fight him here, before he can reach the immortal realms" Xunfeng reasoned, already planning the next step.

"Unless we can prevent Tai Sui from taking over" Xi Yun then retold them about Ji Ze's message and the existence of the Evil Bone.

"Why did he tell you that?"

"He asked for my help. He said I'm the only one who ever altered people's Fates and I must try to do so again"

"But immortals are not allowed to tamper with Fate" Danyin reasoned "The consequences..."

"I know, but what else can we do?" Xiao Lanhua sighed.

"Certainly not risking the Three Realms' safety" Shangque nodded "Should Tai Sui come back, it would mean certain disaster"

"What would happen if we didn't allow this mortal to fulfill its fate?" Xunfeng asked, pragmatically.

"His soul could turn to ashes, but it's more likely he would reincarnate and start anew. This wouldn't stop Tai Sui from taking his body anyway, it could either prompt the possession at once or just give him another chance in a short time"

"We'd only delay the inevitable at best, make it faster at worst" Jieli summed up.

"So what? We just let him?"

"Never" Xi Yun replied, grasping hard Dongfang Qingcang's hand. He squeezed back. It had been far too short since he came back, the pain of their parting was still strong in both of them. Neither had any intention of repeating the past, of having to make the same sacrifices, this time with no certainty Tai Sui couldn't see through their plans and prevail with his own plots.

"We have to find a way to destroy the Evil Bone, whatever it may be"

"Who is this Li Susu?"

Xiao Lanhua shook her head "I don't know, I couldn't find any book of destiny with that name. It's possible that this person doesn't exist yet"

"So we can't kill him, nor we can neutralize the Evil Bone until we know how, and we won't know how until we find Li Susu"

A heavy silence fell. It seemed like a no-choices situation.

"We must take the child" Changheng said at last "Bring him somewhere else, away from the causes of his fate, and see if we can do something about this Evil Bone on our own"

"Take him where? In Shuiyuntian?!" Danyin springed up "Would you risk to turn like Rong Hao and Chidi Nuzi? Because that's what will happen..."

Xiao Lanhua bit her lip in contemplation "I think it may work" she said.

"You can't be serious!"

"Xiao Huayao, that's madness"

"Wasn't it madness offering yourself to Tai Sui just to trap him into your Sea of Heart? And yet you made it! To defeat Tai Sui we must take a risk he wouldn't expect us to, and altering his fate is surely one"

"We'll need to know what to change, though" "Just how will he become the Evil God?"

Xiao Lanhua took the book again and opened it. A cold night, snow falling, a young man with sharp features and uncanny gauntness kneeling on the ground, then fainting. Then a red glow and he'd wake up with red irises and a new strength.

"He'll die and then awake again as the Evil God. That's all the book shows me. Whatever will happen, it will be from within him"

"We must avoid that, then. If his early death will be the beginning of it all, we must at least postpone it until we find Li Susu and figure how to destroy the Evil Bone"

"We can do it. Take the child, protect him, make sure he doesn't fall into the Evil God's path, or at least that he knows he shouldn't trust Tai Sui and give up his body..."

"We can't take him to the immortal realms," Danyin repeated "A mortal child raised in Shuiyuntian will be exposed to mockery and ridiculous at best, to hatred at worst, provided Yunzhong dijun won't decide to try his luck and execute him, and that would call on the Evil God quicker"

Xiao Lanhua grimaced at the thought "Danyin's right. You may not know all of it, but they weren't nice to me when they believed I was weak fairy with a damaged immortal root, I can't see a mortal child be treated much better, even with all of us by his side, his fate would be the same here"

"In Xishan, then. Or Changyanhai, as long as he grows up well..."

"Run-lang, it's too much of a gamble, and you're a terrible gambler, if this Danyin can remind you"

A ghost of a smile passed over Changheng, the memory of Xiao Run and his terrible habits now more a fond memory than a reason for embarrassment.

"I believe, if he's raised right, we could steer him in the right direction" was his reasoning "We may not be able to prevent his destiny entirely, but we can postpone it for quite some time, if we play our part well"

"But how?"

"By raising him ourselves, or having the immortal sects handle his education"

"Not the immortal sects. Sooner or later, they'll recognize who he is and could decide it's not worth the risk"

Surprisingly, Xunfeng seemed to agree: "It's not like we have a better plan, so we should take him. Besides, if this one is already destined to become an immortal..."

"Uh?"

"The Evil God is still a god, no? He has a potential for immortality already, other mortals will feel he's different somehow, although they won't be able to tell in what regard. He won't fit among them either way. Isn't that so, a-sao?" he pointed towards the destiny book on the table in the middle of the room.

The Goddess of Xishan nodded, having read it in depth and knowing the mistreatment and pain he'd have to go through at the hands of other mortals. In all honesty, it had hurt her heart to see it, it was a sad and painful destiny, filled with hatred and disappointment, betrayal and loneliness. She too wished to change it, despite the risks, and no, it wasn't only about Tai Sui's possible return.

There was a bit of herself in that mortal book's story - loneliness and mistreatment, growing to become powerful beyond expectations -, and a bit of Dongfang Qingcang - emotionless, raised like an object, separated from anyone when it came to the most important things -, a bit of Jieli and Shangque - orphans and needing to fend off for themselves, going hungry and mistreated at young age -, a bit of Xunfeng and Changheng, even - youngest brothers, always second in line, talented but dismissed for faults not theirs -, and of Danyin too - angry at the world, needing to keep a façade of perfect calm to protect themselves - and taking out the equation all that pain could help a lot that boy not to give in to Tai Sui's tricks.

But would that be enough? Would they be enough? Could they really prevent that dreadful fate just like that?

"Love is the only thing that can change Fate" Dongfang Qingcang recalled at least "Siming said that and we know it's true. We won't have to just raise the child, we'll have to love him. Can we do this?"

A heavy silence fell.

Could they love a monster in the making? Could he love them, in any way or measure? Love each other enough to change fate?

"Oh, what are we discussing about?!" Jieli scoffed "It's a child, a baby, but won't be so for long, we need to get a move or we won't be able to fix anything"

"Jieli..."

"No, here, listen. Shangque and I took in lots of children, and we know how they are, don't we? They grow how they're raised, for the most part. Sure, they all have their character and little things that are unique, but how they are raised does a lot"

Shangque nodded "It is so"

"And if we fail?"

"At least we can say we tried, duh. But if we stay here, discussing like old people having tea without taking action, we'll waste too much time and there will be nothing to do"

"What about letting him stay in the mortal realm, then? The child belongs here, he'll be far from the immortal realms and no one but us will have to know"

"I can do it" Changheng suddenly said.

Dongfang Qingcang rolled his eyes "You can't be serious"

"I got used to live as a mortal, I know the Four Continents well enough thanks to my travels, and I have connections and knowledge, I can raise the boy here and you can visit and help at need"

"But then you will interfere with his mortal destiny directly" Qingcang reminded him "You could shatter your soul, like Chidi Nuzi when she chose to take in Rong Hao"

Changheng's stance didn't change. It was the right thing to do, the best option for everyone.

"It's a risk we have to take, if his destiny is to awaken as the Evil God, no sacrifice will be too much"

"You'll be destroyed!" Danyin almost got up again "The payback will be devastating..."

"If you're certain, we'll all take a part of the burden" Dongfang Qinchang assured. They all turned his way, surprised by the sudden change of route, but the Yuezun must have seen something, or understood something, and his stance was clear.

Xiao Lanhua squeezed his hand, a similar determination in her eyes "Ji Ze asked me directly, and defeating Tai Sui is my responsibility, we won't leave you on your own. And if that will make our demise, so it will be"

"The old gods did the same and gave their lives for the cause. We won't be any less" Shangque affirmed, Jieli nodding by his side.

On his side, Xunfeng tilted his head "So be it"

Danyin looked at the others like they had gone mad, then pursed her lips and straightened her back "Then, our fight starts now. I, Danyin, Goddess of War, declare we will do our outmost to prevent the return of the Evil God"

§ The carriage that brought the captive prince of Jing from his kingdom to Sheng's capital was a barely decent one, good enough for a lesser noble, perhaps, if it had been in pristine conditions, which it wasn't.

It could seem a show of humbleness, sending someone as precious as a prince with such means, but Yue Yingxin knew the truth. The king of Jing had no interest in having his child have any comfort, no matter what. In fact, using the boy as bargaining chip, offering him as captive, was the last show of cruelty from a man who didn't deserve the name of father.

In the best case, Tantai Jin would be graciously hosted in the foreign land, not mistreated or hurt but never free either. In the worst, the king of Sheng would kill the child in retaliation for any slight, imagined or real, coming from Jing.

Unaware of it all, the little boy sat quietly in the uncomfortable carriage, wearing simple clothes that showed none of his noble birth, entertaining himself with a scroll one of the Sheng guards had given him once they took charge at the borders.

The scroll contained the protocol the captive prince would have to follow in Sheng, and the little boy was studying it with the same sharp eyes and attentive mind he did everything.

It was scary how focused such a small child could be, how his questions seemed above his age, how uncanny the look in his eyes was.

Yingxin was terrified of him, and even more so she was terrified of the life awaiting her in Sheng. She wanted to go home, to run away from all that, to curse Lan'an for leaving and not taking her with her, abandoning the child at the first chance.

"Yingxin, what does that one mean?" Jin asked, taking her out her thoughts by pointing at one of the characters. The boy had been barely taught how to read and couldn't recognize most characters, and had been repeating the questions with the same monotone tone and the same gesture multiple times already. At that point, Yingxing mused, she might have well read the whole text to him herself.

She leaned forward to read when the carriage stopped abruptly.

"Have we arrived?" Jin asked, craning his neck to see.

"I don't know, prince" she replied, but the guards fussing outside and the lack of any sounds normal for the outskirts of a city were worrysome.

And then it started all at once: the guards shouting something, the clamor of unsheated weapons, roar of fire and horses whinning in fear as the smell of smoke started to fill the air.

Yinxing realized two things: one, they had been attacked, likely by bandits. Two: Tantai Jin wasn't scared.

Another person, with more experience and less prejudice, would have thought it good that a young boy was not frazzled and she could coax him out and to safety without panic involved, blaming his calm to his lack of knowledge.

Yinxing only thought how dreadful it was that not even an attack could make him feel anything, not even fear for his life.

If the bandits would realize there was nothing to steal - and the appeareance of the child would never made anyone think he was valuable in any way - they'd just kill everyone.

But she didn't know what to. She couldn't fight, nor she had anything to bargain with. The dread filling her more and more prevented her to see that her precious charge had his hands cupped in front of his face, watching a cricket like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"Yinxing, we have to go" he said at last.

"Go?"

Jin nodded "A bad one attacked, the cricket told me. If we leave now, he won't catch us"

"The cricket...?"

Oh. "Oh, the prince has the Yiyue tribe's gift," she thought with a relief she didn't think she could feel at such moment.

Yinxing let the boy grab her hand and risked looking out the carriage, moving the drape that closed itever so sligthly to see if the way was clear.

Aside from the dead guards, it was. The clamor of the fight was all in the front of the carriage, the way back was free. Weird, but lucky.

The prince, with the cricket on his shoulder, started to climb out and Yinxing followed, sprinting in the woods and away from the fight.

She dared to look back once.

It was enough to freeze her blood and tighten her chest in fear.

What they left behind was in an inferno of fire, blood and fallen men, at the dead center of it a single being stood, horns like vines on its head, and more around his torso, glowing red and engulfed with black smoke, a billowy cape covered in fire yet not burning, and a sword dripping with the blood of the last man it was extracted from only to plunge into another with innatural, perfect martial precision.

A demon. They had been attacked by a demon.

Yinxing almost fainted but forced herself to move forth and run faster, hand in hand with the child who was guiding her, changing directions as if he knew where he was going.

He was, in fact, following the cricket's directions. He wasn't sure what had happened. He registered the odd smell and sounds, the worry coming from his nanny, and little more.

But, unused to run as he was, on top of his fragile, malnourished body, he got tired soon. On the grass of unknown woods - as if he ever knew any woods before - his legs gave in and he fell over.

He would have stopped moving, had a thin, almost imperceptible voice near his ear not whispered: "Get up and run, young one, run away! Don't let the demon catch you!"

Faintly, shaking like a leaf, he tried to but couldn't manage, and fell limp on the ground, unconscious.

Yinxing was hit by a thought. A truly horrible one, but one nevertheless.

If she left him there, she'd have better chances at running away. Everyone would assume they both had died in the demon's attack, no one would look for a miserable nanny, a mere servant wouldn't be worth a search, especially if they found the prince there...

She could be free, go home, like Lan'an. Or another place.

She could... she could....

[In one universe, she did. Left him on the ground, ignored the guilt, ran for her life. Or rather, to her death. Her original destiny was, after all, to die after betraying and forsaking her charge. It just happened faster, that time around, with less pain, without going mad, without wounding him by her own hands with a cursed sword. She'd be found at the bottom of a ditch, a week later, body broken by the fall. But this isn't that story]

She went back on her steps and picked up the child, hugging the tiny frame close to her chest, as she had done a million times. And then she ran.

It wasn't a long sprint, anyway. The clamor of the fight was gone, left behind, by the time she got near a river and nothing more than the sounds of the forest and the running water could be heard.

Yinxing let herself collapse to the ground, next to a massive tree. They weren't out of danger, they never would be for good, but she was too tired to go on.

She lied the prince next to her, slumped on the trunk, and let herself drift off.

§

They had escaped the demon, but he was hungry and hurt, chilled to the bones in a way he had not felt even in the Cold Palace.

It was then that he heard the cold voice the first time. But he was too dizzy and hurt to understand what it was saying. It was talking for sure, something about being abandoned and miserable, that such would be his destiny, but the child cared not.

Then, as quickly as it came, the voice was gone and so was the dark landscape under his eyelids, replaced by a gentle, warm light.

"Here you are" someone said, a woman, her voice gentle beyond his every expectation. It was the kindest tone he ever heard, a stark contrast with the cold voice.

He opened his eyes, heavy as they felt, and saw a beautiful lady with golden flowers in her hair and kind eyes, smile to him. She put a warm hand on his chilled face and he immediately felt better.

Someone picked him up from the ground, not the lady, as she still had her hand on his forehead. A faint smell of flowers joined with one of smoke and jasmine, more warmth added to the mix. Hushed voices he couldn't tell apart whispered around him, none unkind nor cold.

He fell in a peaceful slumber, feeling safe and warm for the first time in his life.

§

"How is he?" Changheng asked. He had picked the boy from the ground and was surprised by how little he weighted. He was small even for a mortal child, pale and thin in a way that told of hardships older than the current day's events.

Xiao Lanhua retreated her hand from his forehead "He's weak but not ill, nothing some good food and lots of rest can't fix"

"We almost lost him"

"I know, when he fainted I worried I couldn't use the cricket to guide him to us anymore" Danyin retold "But we have him now and it's all that matters"

Xunfeng gestured with his head towards the nanny "Should we keep the servant too?"

"We'll let her choose" Changheng replied "I could use a hand with childcare, Jieli and Shangque can't stay here in the mortal realms too long, as can't any of you, given your duties. Besides, he grew up with her, a familiar face will do him good"

"Or not" Xiao Lanhua muttered, refusing to elaborate. Nevertheless, she went to check the woman's state, finding nothing but fatigue and, like the child, lack of nourishment.

It had been a suffered decision, to make an ambush like that. They didn't want to accidentally restart the just-ended war between the kingdoms of Sheng and Jing, but they couldn't let Tantai Jin be taken in as hostage and suffer as much as he would. It was bad enough that they couldn't help him in his first years of life, those times would become scars they couldn't remedy to, they couldn't allow it to go further, if they wanted to prevent the end of the world.

Fine, it wasn't the only reason.

Xiao Lanhua was transparent enough they all knew she was genuinely pained at the thought of what the mortal boy would have to go through according to his set destiny, but none of them understood to what extent until they witnessed it in person, when they snuck in the Jing palace to see him the first time.

The place he lived in, the way even servants shunned him, how he had to catch fish from the pond barehanded or dig in the kitchen's scraps in secret just to eat, all the mistreatment and mockery from adults and children alike, chilled them all to the bone.

Jieli and Shangque who knew poverty and hunger, whose thoughts went to the children of their orphanage and compared even the worst of them had had it better when they found them.

Xiao Lanhua and Danyin, who knew mockery and mistreatment, albeit from different steps of the social ladder, and knew the emotional scars that came from it all.

Dongfang Qingcang and Xunfeng who, even with the knowledge of their father's wrongdoings, could still remember the old Yuezun being a loving parent and wondered how could the king of Jing be so unreasonably cruel with his own son.

Changheng too, who grew without a mother, with an absent father too busy to even see him, with a tyrannical brother with a cruel streak and yet never as malicious to him as the older princes of Jing were to their youngest brother. Changheng who had witnessed the ugly parts of Shuyuntian and yet couldn't fathom how much worse a prince's life could be.

Hearing the news the third prince was to be sent away made the plan form itself. Demons were a common enemy for mortals, making everyone believe a demon was the cause for the disappeareance of the hostage would be a perfect way to have no blame on either kingdom, as long as it happened in Sheng.

Dongfang Qingcang had had great fun playing the role, if the spring in his steps and the pleased smile he sported when he joined them was any indication. It had been centuries since he could terrify someone properly and, although his worst tendencies had been abated, he still relished in scaring others.

He had not killed anyone, as per his wife's request, since death would have altered those mortals' destinies for good, but hit with clinical precision to incapacitate and stun all guards while giving Danyin the time to goad the child out the carriage and to them.

Simple enough.

The maid had been a surprise, none of them imagined the boy would have dragged her with him. Out of reflex or imitation of the care he received, it was a good sign for their task. Nor Xiao Lanhua expected Yingxing to help the little prince and not run for her life.

They left the forest soon, the idea was to reach a nearby town and pretend they found the child by accident. Knowing no one would be looking for him too soon, as it would take at least a day for Sheng's palace to be informed and start the search, they would leave the kingdom before the following dawn, never to be seen there anymore.

Or such was the plan.

[kayyeh1]

The Martian Manhunter let a strangled sigh escape from him

He could relate too much to what this poor child has been through, from what he saw of the quick glimpse he was allowed in the boys mind:

Men in white lab coats surrounding him, prodding at him, poking, torturing. Vivisecting him. Seeing him as less than human because of what he was. Because of what he wasn’t.

And the loneliness. Though he hadn’t been alone nearly as long as the child, he had been isolated in that lab. When he wasn’t being experimented on, he was left alone in a cold cell, with nothing but his thought and imagination. A dangerous combination.

J'onn quickly steers his thoughts away from that dark time, the nightmares and hallucinations that followed. Batman was speaking again.

“It’s ok, it’s alright,” Batman said placatingly to the mystery child, who had became clearly agitated by the lack of his own memories.

“we don’t need to know that right now. I know it’s hard, but is there anything you can remember that might be bad or dangerous for you? Any allergies or things we should avoid? Anything we SHOULD give you?”

The child squeezed his eyes shut and tried prodding at his still recovering mind.

J'onn was hovering by his consciousness looking for ways to help.

…

Danny tried remembering, what had he been just thinking of again? he had been musing about something in his past, RIGHT before coming to the watchtower… but he couldn’t concentrate. All the feelings, and noises, and SMELLS.

Danny remembers from a long ago science class that smells were made by physical molecules entering your nose or something. Or was that from a tv show episode with that weird redhead teacher and her school bus with a face? Either way, he hadn’t SMELLED much of anything in a while either.

And right now? It smelled like he was in a lab.

All the ointments, and cleaning products and the iron tang of his own blood. The plastics and metals all felt like they were teleporting him I back to that awful place, hidden underground in a massive facility and they were hurting him again and they were opening him up and they-

Lavender. He suddenly was smelling lavender.

Or, no the memory of lavender. It had a calming effect on him.

He didn’t realize he was hyperventilating again. Lavender always reminded him of his parents. They had always tracked around ectoplasm and it left them smelling like it too, so his mom had bought the cheapest cover up scent she could and left it all over the decontamination area in the lab. It resulted in his parents smelling like lavender too

His parents...

They had almost been the first to have the honor of dissecting him, before he finally revealed what he was, before they cut the restraints and they had all cried in a huddle on the floor for hours.

he... he couldn't remember their faces.

What was he supposed to be remembering again? allergies. Thoughts seemed to swim away just as he was about to catch them.

ok he was just thinking about...lavender? flowers? blood blossoms maybe? aside from the extinct rose and his lactose intolerance he wasn't really allergic to anything, but the milk thing didn’t really count anyways, he chugged that stuff like nobodies business.

Wait, could that stupid flower have survived on this earth? He hoped not. Ugh too much thinking, his head started hurting again...

...

J'onn was glad he was able to steer the boy away from more unpleasant memories. He knew that memory had a strong relationship with scent and had picked the first agreeable one he could think of.

@ailithnight hope you like my addition!

(Can you tell im very much pro good fenton parents? every time they found out about danny in the show they were surprised but supportive!!! yeah they're dumb but they love their child!

also this is like my first time doing one of these hope it turned out ok, it felt a little OOC in some places but I'm happy with it ^u^)

Dp x DC crossover prompt

Ok so I was watching rise of the guardians and whent oh I have an idea. So I've seen the prompts where danny gets stuck in the DC verse and his powers conform to DC logic. Well there, ghosts are invisible.

So let's put this together. Danny scared, hurt, and tired, gets yeeted to the DC verse by either running from ghost hunters or just getting lost in the ghost zone.

So danny hearing about this world haveing heros and deciding to try and track down the heros. Only for them to ignore him?? He trys to get their attention in his human form, no luck. He helpd multiple heros as phantom and they acted like he didnt exist.

So danny getting fed up flys up to their space base and walks straight into a big important meeting. But no matter how much he yells, crys, or pleads nobody bats an eye at him.

At this point a certain blond decides to finally show up to the meeting to see a kid breaking down in the conference room begging for help and his colleagues ignoring him. Constantine really needing a smoke before dealing with this situation.

[ghostfacd]

LIVE LAUGH, SCREAM! | TOM BLYTH

pairing. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

summary. where one comment could lead into an internet feud between tom blyth and yn avocot, resulting in them falling inlove ?!

author’s note. [ THIS TAKES PLACE BEFORE YN AND TOM STARTED DATING ] thank you to the nonnie that said yn gives off scream vibes bc they’re the reason i even made this post in the first place! 🤭

installment of this au | read for context

ynuser scream bts (you’re welcome!)

view all comments

jennaortega did it hurt when you fell from heaven?

➥ jackchampion no but it might’ve when she stabbed u in the movie

➥ ynuser JACK 😭😭

user1 jenna flirting, jack teasing, I LOVE THIS CAST YOUR HONOR

user2 okay but literally your performance was just chefs kiss 😭 PLEASE tell me you’re starting in other movies as well bae

➥ ynuser oh thank you!! im so honored you enjoyed it ❤️ I will get back to you on your question!! 👀

➥ user3 OMGG YN IN ANOTHER FILM WOULD BE KILLER

➥ user4 well actually 🤓☝️ she was one of the ghostface in the film which means she actually was a killer

user5 @/user4 bye

tomblyth amazing film

➥ ynuser thanks

➥ user6 THANKS?? THANKS?! girl that’s tom blyth

➥ ynuser @/user6 who?

user7 no way this girl just asked who tom blyth is

➥ user8 well can u blame her tho?? he’s in like what, billy the kid or whatever? it’s not that known..

➥ user9 nah girl stars in one film and thinks she’s all that 😭

rachelzegler YOU DID SO GOOD GIRL 💕

➥ ynuser rachel my love 😭😭❤️

tomblyth who am I? well now you know

view all comments

user10 oh he’s so fine

user11 LMFAOO is this a jab at yn not knowing who you are

user12 show that girl 🤭🤭 she thinks she’s all that after getting one acting gig

➥ user13 y’all are so obsessed with her hello..

ynuser sure. now i know

➥ user14 oh im having so much fun watching all this go down

ynuser more bts because i love scream 6 and so should you!

view all comments

tomblyth yeah the movie’s cool and all but how abt i treat you out for dinner?

➥ user15 HELLO???

user16 enemies to lovers era ?

user17 pls lord get these two together

jackchampion say yes to the dinner invite and bring me back steak

➥ ynuser 🤨🤨

➥ jackchampion and a vanilla soda too please

user18 i love jack n yn’s friendship

ynuser and tomblyth both posted a story!

ynuser eating sushi and then putting on some comfy pjs is a great way to spend a day

view all comments

user19 the way tom also posted sushi pics very similar to what she’s eating…

➥ user20 WHY IS NOBODY MENTIONING THE MATCHING HOTDOG STORY POSTS AS WELL 😭😭😭

user21 pjs TOGETHER?! im afraid we’ve lost her

user22 everybody knows.. everybody knows

jackchampion splendid way to spend the day

➥ user23 what if it’s jack?? tom and yn don’t even fw each other LOL

➥ user24 true. he did ask her for dinner tho

➥ user25 who wouldn’t? she’s yn.

Eclaté_Mode On this new episode of BTS With Your Favorites, Tom Blyth dishes on his skincare routine, how he keeps himself productive during breaks, and his internet rivalry with actress, Y/N Avocot. Full video linked in bio

view all comments

user26 THE WAY HE COMPLIMENTS YN this is definitely enemies to lovers

user27 “me and yn have exciting need to share soon” excuse me

user28 so they inlove or what

user29 yn fell inlove with a brit man it’s over for US

user30 WAIT WHAT DOES HE MEANNNN

tomblyth well surprise. enemies to lovers much?

view all comments

ynuser nice pic send me it

user31 WAITT RACHEL HIM AND YN IN A FILM?? did not expect this..

user32 hold awn..

user33 is this confirmation they’re dating

➥ ynuser we aren’t dating.

➥ rachelzegler yet.

➥ user34 RACHEL???

rachelzegler you’re welcome for this crossover, i encouraged both of them to audition for the role

➥ user35 WE LOVE RACHEL ZEGLER

jennaortega take care of my gf 😽

[espresso1patronum]

Nine Lives, One Knight

(batman!gojo x catwoman!reader)

synopsis: By day, Gojo Satoru is Gotham’s golden boy—billionaire, genius, untouchable. By night, he’s the Bat, a relentless force in the city’s shadows. You? You’re Catwoman—master thief, chaos incarnate, always one step ahead. You’ve spent years dancing around each other, neither willing to truly win. But when a new faction, the Black Veil, sets its sights on Gotham’s most powerful players—including you and the Bat—you’re forced into an uneasy alliance. Tension crackles, lines blur, and the game you’ve always played turns deadly. Because this time, it’s not just about the city. This time, it’s about each other.

cw: batman au, mutual pining, slow burn, sort of enemies to lovers, angst, violence, blood, injury mention, gun violence, kinda gory? kinda forbidden love? Toji, geto, shoko and nanami cameo lmao

word count: 10.1k

author's note: this had been in my drafts for a very long time and after the poll results, I thought i'd finish this. it's not much, but I enjoyed writing this jjk x dc crossover.

Gotham was never silent.

Not even at midnight.

Not even when the rain came down in thick, suffocating sheets, drenching the city in shadows. Somewhere below, sirens wailed. Tires screeched. A single gunshot cracked through the air, distant but unmistakable.

To some, the noise was chaos. To you?

It was home.

You move across the rooftop with practiced ease, the weight of the Black Veil’s encrypted drive tucked safely into the pocket of your suit. The heist had been too easy. A little slip past the lasers, a quick crack of the safe, and just like that—you were out.

Something worth a small fortune in your hands. Or rather—something that could destroy half of Gotham’s elite if it ended up in the wrong hands.

(Or the right ones, depending on who you asked.)

A clean escape. A successful job. You should be gone by now.

And yet—

A shiver runs down your spine. Not from the cold. Not from the rain. From something else.

Something you can’t see, but feel.

You land soundlessly on another rooftop, pausing only for a second to scan the city below. Nothing. No movement. Just the familiar neon glow of Gotham’s underbelly.

Still—your fingers twitch. Instinct coils in your gut, whispering a warning you don’t want to acknowledge.

Too easy.

Too—

“Going somewhere, kitten?”

The voice comes from behind you, smooth as silk, dark as thunder.

You don’t startle. You don’t turn. Instead, you let a slow, knowing smirk curl at your lips before you finally glance back.

There he is.

Perched on the edge of the rooftop like he belongs in the night, the rain dripping off the edges of his cowl, his cape shifting slightly in the wind. Batman.

Or rather—Gojo Satoru.

You should’ve known he’d show up. Maybe you did. Maybe you ignored it.

"Bold of you," you murmur, fingers flexing, ready to bolt. "Sneaking up on a cat in the dark."

His head tilts, and though the mask hides half his face, you can hear the smirk in his voice.

"Please," he drawls. "You knew I was here before you even touched the ground."

He's right. You did. But you don’t let him win that easily.

"Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night, Bat?" You shift your weight, rolling your shoulders, keeping it casual. "Or do you just like following me around?"

He steps closer. Slow. Deliberate. The way a storm rolls in—inevitable.

"You stole something," he says.

You sigh, dramatically. "I steal a lot of things. You’ll have to be more specific."

"You know what I’m talking about."

He’s close enough now that you can see the flicker of blue beneath his mask. The kind of dangerous blue that makes your pulse stutter for half a second before you shut it down.

"Give it to me," he says, voice quieter this time.

You shake your head, clicking your tongue. "Oh, Bat. You always ask so nicely."

Before he can move, you bolt.

And that’s when the rooftop explodes.

A deafening boom shatters the night, the blast wave knocking you clean off your feet. You don’t have time to think, don’t have time to react—your body moves on instinct, twisting midair, boots scraping against the slick rooftop as you skid dangerously close to the edge.

Shit.

The explosion wasn’t meant for him. It was meant for you.

You barely have time to register the shift in the air before an arm wraps around your waist—strong, unyielding, and familiar—yanking you backward just as the ledge beneath your feet crumbles.

You don’t fall.

Because he doesn’t let you.

When the smoke clears, you’re half-sprawled against him, one of his arms still locked around your waist, his other hand braced against the rooftop. Your breaths come hard and fast, heart pounding against your ribs, adrenaline flooding your veins.

"Well," you huff, dazed but not broken. "Didn’t think you cared, Bat."

His grip tightens—just for a second. Just long enough for you to feel it.

"I don’t," he says flatly. But his jaw clenches. "Stay down."

You snort, pushing off of him as you roll onto your feet. "You and I both know that’s not happening."

He doesn’t argue. Because you’re right. Because whoever just tried to kill you isn’t done.

And they’re not alone.

From the rooftop across the alley, figures emerge from the shadows. Armed. Precise. Waiting.

Batman’s shoulders go rigid. His voice is low. Dangerous.

"They knew you’d be here."

You exhale sharply, adjusting your gloves. "Looks like we’re on the same side tonight, Bat."

The rain slicks the rooftop, turning it into a death trap. But you’ve fought in worse.

Across the alley, four figures move into position. Their weapons gleam under the glow of a distant streetlight—guns, knives, and something that looks an awful lot like a taser baton.

Cute.

Satoru tenses beside you, assessing. Calculating. His voice is low, barely audible over the rain. "Stay behind me."

You scoff, rolling your shoulders. "Not happening."

He doesn’t waste time arguing. Because you’re both outnumbered, because the enemy is moving—because there’s no time to fight each other when you’re about to fight them.

And then—they strike.

One gunshot. Two. You react on instinct, dropping low, twisting away, boots skidding against the rooftop. Batman’s cape flares as he moves—one sharp flick of his wrist, and a batarang slices through the dark, knocking a pistol clean from one of their hands.

Fast and efficient. Classic him.

You? You have your own way of doing things.

The second attacker lunges at you with a knife. You sidestep, grab their wrist, twist—the blade clatters to the ground. Before they can react, your elbow smashes into their ribs, sending them stumbling backward with a wheeze.

"Really?" you taunt, dodging another strike. "You came all this way just to embarrass yourselves?"

Batman doesn’t look at you, but you swear you can feel his exasperation.

"Focus."

You grin. "I am focused."

And then you flip over one of the attackers, landing smoothly behind them before slamming them headfirst into a ventilation unit.

Batman exhales sharply. "Could’ve just knocked them out."

"They’ll wake up." You dodge another strike. "Eventually."

More gunfire. Batman twists mid-air, cape flowing like liquid shadow as he dodges the bullets. In the same motion, he grabs your wrist—yanking you forward, pulling you out of the line of fire just as another shot rings out.

You’re so close you can hear his heartbeat.

For half a second, the world shrinks. The rain, the chaos, the rooftop beneath your feet, it all disappears.

It’s just you and him. Breathing the same air.

Then—"Move."

And just like that, the moment is gone.

You both explode into motion, flawless in sync. A kick to the ribs. A punch to the jaw. A perfect sweep of your leg sends another attacker sprawling.

It’s fast. Clean. Too easy.

When the last enemy collapses, groaning, you barely break a sweat.

You exhale, shaking out your arms. "Well," you say, breathless. "That was fun."

Satoru glares at you. "This wasn’t a game."

"Could’ve fooled me." You step over one of the unconscious bodies, crouching slightly to pat them down. No ID. No insignia. No obvious ties to the Black Veil.

But then— your fingers brush against something cold. Metal.

Your stomach drops.

A small device is clipped to one of their belts. Black, sleek, with a blinking red light.

Shit.

Your head snaps up. Satoru sees it the same moment you do, his voice is sharp. "Bomb." A soft beep. A single second.

And then— the rooftop blows apart beneath your feet.

Pain.

It drags you back to consciousness, slow and disorienting, like surfacing from deep water. Your body aches, the sharp sting of a fresh wound cutting through the dull throb of bruises.

The last thing you remember—the rooftop. The explosion.

And then—falling.

Your eyes snap open. You’re not on the street. You’re not dead.

Instead, you’re somewhere dimly lit, the soft hum of an old heater filling the silence. A safehouse.

Your head tilts slightly. The room is small—just a battered couch, an old desk, and a half-broken lamp casting flickering shadows against the walls.

And across from you— standing near the door, arms crossed, still in full suit— is Batman.

Gojo.

Watching you.

You shift, trying to sit up, but a sharp pull at your side stops you. That’s when you realize— your suit is torn and your stomach is bandaged, and you sure as hell didn’t do it yourself.

A slow smirk tugs at your lips. "Didn’t take you for the hands-on type, Bat."

His jaw ticks. "You were bleeding."

"Aww," you tease, voice still hoarse. "You do care."

He steps closer. The soft glow of the lamp catches the edge of his mask, illuminating the sharp cut of his jaw, the faint tension in his shoulders.

"You almost died." His voice is quiet now, lacking its usual smugness. Too honest.

You tilt your head, studying him. Something about the way he’s looking at you feels... different.

Like he hated seeing you like that. Like it unnerved him.

For a moment, neither of you speak. The air is thick, heavy, charged with something unspoken.

Then—he exhales, stepping back, breaking the moment.

"You need rest," he mutters.

You shift again, testing the pain, biting back a wince. "I need answers."

"You need to not die."

"You didn’t answer my question."

His hands tighten into fists at his sides. He doesn’t look at you, but his voice is sharp, precise. Avoiding something.

"The bomb was a trap. Someone wanted you dead."

You roll your eyes. "Yeah, I figured that part out, Bat."

He ignores the sarcasm. "Who else knew you’d be at that vault?"

"Just me."

His gaze flickers to you, sharp and assessing. Like he doesn’t believe you.

You sigh, leaning back against the couch. "Look, I don’t have a name yet. Just whispers about a buyer wanting the drive. But if they’re willing to go that far to kill me for it—"

"—then you’re already in too deep."

There’s something grim in his tone that makes your stomach twist. You study him carefully. His cowl hides most of his face, but you’ve seen him fight, seen him move.

Gojo Satoru is always too confident. Too smug. Like he knows he’s the strongest, the fastest, the smartest in the room.

But right now? Right now, he looks... frustrated.

Not at you. He is frustrated for you and the realization is dangerous.

You push it down and swallow it whole. "Relax, Bat," you say, forcing a smirk. "I still got, what, six lives left?"

He doesn’t smile, doesn’t take the bait. But then your breath catches as he kneels infront of you but you don't move.

You should. You should say something—anything—but you don’t. Because his hands are on you again, pressing carefully against your bandaged side, checking his work.

He’s too close. His touch warm, solid, and careful.

And for the first time, he looks at you—not as an opponent. Not as a thief. But as something else entirely.

The silence stretches and you wish it hadn't because your heart is pounding in a way it isn't supposed to.

And then— he shifts.

You feel it before it happens. The slow lean forward. The weight of his stare. The way your own pulse betrays you, beating too fast, too hard, in the space between you.

Almost—

But then, the moment shatters.

The old radio in the corner crackles to life, static hissing before a voice cuts through. "Breaking news—an attack on Gotham’s financial district just moments ago—"

You blink as he pulls back and you just clear your throat, wanting to push all the wierd thoughts that were clouding your mind right now.

Satoru's expression hardens, as he stands, straightens his suit and steps away. "You stay here," he says, all business again.

You smirk, ignoring the sharp ache in your ribs. "Come on, Bat. You know that’s not happening."

He exhales, long-suffering. "You’re injured."

"And yet I still fight better than half your enemies."

He pauses and stares at you as though you'd said something wrong. Then, finally—a reluctant smirk. "Try to keep up, kitten."

Satoru hadn’t always been like this in the past when you met him. He was obnoxious, full of himself, always eager to show off his strength and speed in front of you. But today—this time—he felt different. For the first time, he seemed genuinely serious. And maybe, just maybe, there was a flicker of vulnerability in the way he spoke, in the way Gotham’s Batman spoke.

You told yourself it had nothing to do with you. But no matter how hard you tried to push the thought away, you couldn’t help but wonder—what if it did?

Sneaking into Gotham’s financial district isn’t hard. But sneaking in with Batman?

Now that’s a challenge.

You slip through the shadows like you were born for this—because you were. Satoru moves beside you, silent, precise, and still annoyingly smug. You glance at him. "Not bad, Bat."

He doesn’t look at you. "Not trying to impress you, kitten."

Liar.

The building looms ahead, dark and empty except for the guards patrolling the perimeter. "Twelve," you murmur, already counting. "Four on the roof, two at the entrance, six inside."

He hums. "I’ll take the roof. You take the inside."

You grin. "Awfully trusting, Bat."

"If you get caught, I’m not saving you."

You both know that’s a lie.

Getting in is easy. Getting to the main office where the stolen drive is hidden? Even easier. You’re already at the vault, fingers working over the lock, when— you hear footsteps.

Shit.

You whirl around, but it’s too late—one of the guards spots you. The alarm blares.

"Dammit," you hiss, already moving, flipping over the desk as more guards storm in. You could take them. You should take them. It's really easy for you actually.

But before you even get the chance— a blur of black crashes through the skylight. Batman lands hard, cape billowing, taking down two guards before his boots even hit the floor.

You blink. "Show-off."

"You’re welcome," he mutters, throwing a punch.

It’s a blur of fists, kicks, and electricity. You move too well together, too in sync. It’s not just skill—it’s instinct. Every time you dodge, he’s already covering your blind spot. Every time he moves, you’re already reading his next step.

It’s flawless. It’s deadly. It’s perfect but— a bit too much. At some point, you end up back-to-back. Panting, bruised and your adrenaline spiking.

His voice is low, breathless. "You good?"

You swallow hard because you shouldn’t be this affected. You shouldn't be affected by anything he says or he does because you don't care, right?

"Always."

And then— a hand grips your wrist. It was a guard you didn’t see. You twist your hand, ready to counter, but before you can, Batman moves first.

Fast. Too fast.

His hand grips the front of your suit—yanking you forward, spinning you behind him as he slams the attacker into the wall with enough force to shake the room.

With a loud thud, the guy drops instantly and you hear nothing but the silence that is lingering in the air. The only sound is your breath and his, his hand still gripping your suit, still holding you.

You look up at him and find him already watching you. He’s too close for your liking. Or is he?

His jaw is tight, his chest rising and falling in steady yet controlled breaths, and his grip on you remains firm. Your pulse slams against your ribs. There’s something in the air—something that shifts, pulling both of you in. You feel it. And so does he.

You hate this. Or at least, you tell yourself you do. But the truth is, you can’t stop it. It’s happening, inevitable and inescapable. This isn’t just a fight anymore. This is something else entirely. And this time, no one interrupts. No radio crackling to life, no explosions in the distance, no convenient excuse to look away.

It’s just you. Him. And a choice.

Before you can even pull yourself back, before your mind can fully grasp the situation, Satoru makes the decision for you. He yanks you forward, his lips crashing onto yours, his mask half-pulled up—just like yours. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you in closer.

And despite everything, despite all the reasons you shouldn’t—you kiss him back.

Your back slams against cold metal, the impact sending a shiver down your spine—not that you can focus on it. Not when he’s leaning in, fingers curling into your suit, pulling, pressing, taking.

You don’t even realize you’re kissing him back until it’s too late. Until your hands are in his hair, gripping, tugging, dragging him closer. Until his weight is the only thing keeping you upright.

The vault. The alarms. The entire damn mission—forgotten. Because all you can think about is—

This is dangerous. This is a mistake. This is—

“Fuck,” you breathe against his lips.

And then— he pulls back, barely.

His breath is ragged, his gloved hand still firm on your jaw, his eyes burning with something wild, like he can’t believe he just did that or like he can’t believe he wants to do it again.

The silence between you crackles like a live wire.

Then he swallows. “We can’t—”

You shove him off. Hard.

Your body still hums from his touch, your lips still tingling, your pulse betraying you. But you don’t let any of it show. Instead, you smirk, sharp as a blade.

“Didn’t know the Bat had such bad impulse control.”

His expression doesn’t change, but you see it—the exact moment he chooses denial. The way his walls snap back into place like steel reinforcements.

His mask comes down. His voice turns cold. “Let’s move.”

And just like that, it’s over.

Except it isn’t.

Because now, the line between you is blurred beyond recognition. Because now, you know what he tastes like. Because now, everything has changed.

And there’s no undoing it.

Gotham’s elite love to party.

It’s how they distract themselves from the fact that their city is rotting beneath them.

Big money, expensive champagne, and a ballroom filled with people who don’t care about anything but themselves.

It’s your kind of scene.

A place where no one notices a missing diamond necklace. Where a stolen keycard goes unreported. Where masks are more than just accessories.

And yet— tonight, you’re not here to steal. Tonight, you're here for him.

It had been a few days since that night—since everything that happened between you and Satoru. Or Batman.

Now, another party was being thrown by Gotham’s elite, and of course, Batman had been invited. And, of course, you had to see him again.

It felt awkward.

Because no matter how much you wanted to ignore it, that kiss had meant something. To both of you. And you didn’t want it to.

You wanted to talk to him like nothing had happened. Like nothing ever would happen again. Right?

You wanted to tell him it was just the adrenaline, just the chaos of that night, nothing more. That’s all it was. That’s all it could ever be.

Gojo Satoru feels you before he sees you.

A shift in the air. A prickle at the back of his neck.

And then— you walk in, dressed to kill.

Silk. Black. Dangerous. A slit running high up your thigh, the soft glint of diamonds resting against your collarbone.

And when your gaze meets his across the ballroom— his throat goes dry.

Because he hasn’t seen you since the kiss. Because you’re smiling like it never happened. Because the second you do— you turn away, and walk straight into another man’s arms.

You feel his stare before you even see him. It lingers on your skin, heavy and unrelenting, like a touch without contact. But you don’t look. Not yet.

Instead, you let the man beside you—some rich idiot with more money than sense—pull you closer, his hand brushing over your waist, his breath warm as he leans in.

"You look exquisite tonight," he murmurs, voice smooth, practiced.

You hum, barely interested. "I know." And still, you feel him.

Watching. Brooding. Jealous. Exactly as you wanted.

So when you finally turn—when your gaze finally locks onto his across the crowded ballroom—you make sure to smirk.

And just like that, he’s gone.

But you know better. He didn’t leave. Not really.

So when you step outside onto the balcony, the cool Gotham night air brushing against your skin, you’re not surprised to find him already there. He stands by the railing, his posture deceptively relaxed, fingers curled around a glass of untouched champagne.

His mask is gone, but his walls? Higher than ever.

You exhale slowly as you step closer, watching him carefully. "Didn’t take you for the jealous type, Bat."

He doesn’t look at you when he answers. "I’m not."

You tilt your head, amusement flickering in your eyes. "Could’ve fooled me."

Silence settles between you, thick with unspoken words and something else, something heavier. The tension coils between you like a wire pulled too tight, waiting to snap.

And then, you break it.

"You’ve been avoiding me," you say, your voice quieter now.

His jaw tightens, but his expression doesn’t shift. "You’ve been avoiding me."

"Maybe," you admit. A small smirk tugs at your lips as you step even closer. "Or maybe I was just waiting for you to make the first move."

He scoffs, shaking his head. "That’s not how this works, kitten."

"Then how does it work?" Your voice is softer now, your gaze steady. "Because last I checked, you kissed me."

His breath hitches, barely audible.

For a moment, he doesn’t move.

And then— you’re against the railing, his hand is on your waist, his grip firm, fingers pressing against the silk of your dress as if anchoring himself in place. His breath is warm against your skin, his voice low and edged with something dangerous.

"It was a mistake," he murmurs, though there’s no conviction behind the words.

You smirk, tilting your head slightly. "Then why are you still thinking about it?"

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to. Because you already know.

And when his grip tightens on your waist, when his breath ghosts over your lips, you can see it—the exact moment he realizes he’s already lost.

You could kiss him right now. It would be easy. He’s already too close. His body is practically caging you in, his presence overwhelming. His fingers press into your waist like he doesn’t want to let go, like he’s memorizing the feeling of you beneath his touch. His breath is warm against your lips, his eyes dark and unreadable.

And you know he wants it. Because he hasn’t moved away. Because his grip keeps tightening, like he’s fighting himself but losing the battle.

Because when you whisper, "What are you so afraid of, Bat?" his lips part—like he’s about to answer.

Like he’s about to give in. Like this is finally it.

And then— "We’ve got a problem." The comm in his ear crackles to life, shattering the moment.

Just like that, his entire body stiffens. The warmth disappears, replaced by something cold, something distant. You watch it happen—the exact second he shuts down. The moment he remembers who he is. Who you are. What this is.

His hand falls away. His walls slam back up.

When he speaks again, his voice is devoid of whatever had been lingering between you just seconds ago. "I have to go."

You don’t let it show—the disappointment, the frustration curling inside your chest, the ache you don’t want to name. Instead, you force a smirk, tilting your head slightly.

"Duty calls, huh?"

His expression remains unreadable. "Always."

And with that— he’s gone.

But there's always a problem. You should've known this was a setup. You should have left the party the second he walked away.

You should have ignored the champagne, the meaningless conversations, and the empty laughter echoing through the ballroom. You should have disappeared into the night before anyone had the chance to notice.

But you didn’t. And now, you are paying for it.

The moment you step out the back entrance and into the dimly lit alleyway, something slams into you with brutal force. The impact knocks the air from your lungs, sending you stumbling. Before you can react, a sharp sting pierces the side of your neck.

Your vision blurs instantly as your body feels heavy and unsteady. The world tilts beneath you as you struggle to stay upright, but your limbs refuse to cooperate.

Through the haze, a voice reaches your ears, low and amused. "Nighty night, kitty."

Darkness swallows you whole.

"Say that again."

His voice is quiet. Too quiet.

Shoko hesitates over the comms. "She’s missing. No one’s seen her since the party. Word on the street is—"

She doesn’t get the chance to finish. He is already moving. His mind is no longer in the conversation. His focus sharpens, narrowing in on a single, undeniable truth.

Someone took you. And that changes everything.

This isn’t part of the game you and he have played for years. This isn’t the usual chase through Gotham’s streets, the endless dance of pursuit and escape. This isn’t teasing smirks and near-missed captures.

This is something else, something darker.

Someone dared to take you, and that is a very, very big problem.

Because you are his to chase. Because no one else gets to touch you. Because if they have hurt you— he will burn this entire fucking city to the ground.

Pain is the first thing you register. The feeling's not new at all though.

A dull, throbbing ache pulses behind your eyes, heavy and unrelenting. A sharp sting burns at your wrists where the rope digs into your skin. Cold metal presses against your ankles, the bite of steel cuffs locking you in place.

You inhale slowly, steadying yourself as the haze begins to clear. You’re tied to a chair.

The air is thick with the scent of damp concrete, musty and stale, like an old basement that hasn't seen fresh air in years. A single lightbulb flickers overhead, its dim glow casting long, shifting shadows against the cracked walls.

You take a slow breath and assess your surroundings.

You’re underground. Maybe an abandoned warehouse. Maybe a storage facility. Wherever you are, it's hidden, tucked away from prying eyes.

And whoever took you here—they know what they’re doing.

You flex your fingers, testing the restraints, but before you can shift too much, a voice cuts through the silence.

"Ah, you’re awake."

The words are smooth, laced with amusement, as if this entire situation is nothing more than an entertaining inconvenience to him.

Your eyes snap toward the source of the voice, adjusting to the dim light, and when you finally see him, irritation flares in your chest.

Fushiguro Toji.

You let out a slow breath, biting back a groan. "You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me."

Toji smirks, leaning back in his chair like he has all the time in the world. "Surprised, kitty?"

"Annoyed," you correct, rolling your shoulders against the ropes. "Didn’t think I was worth your time."

He chuckles, dark amusement dancing in his green eyes. "Oh, you weren’t. But then I heard about your little… situation with Gotham’s Bat."

The words are casual, but your stomach twists.

You don’t react. You don’t tense. You don’t let the flicker of unease show on your face. Instead, you arch a brow and smirk. "Didn’t know he had fans."

"I wouldn’t call myself a fan," Toji muses, tilting his head. "But I do love a good weakness. And you, sweetheart?" He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You’re his."

Your heart skips just for a second.

But you keep your expression neutral because he’s wrong.

Right?

Right.

Right.

…Right?

Gojo finds the first guy in ten minutes.

The second in five.

By the time he gets to the third, his knuckles are already bloodied, bruises forming across his fingers from the force of his hits.

The man stumbles back, pressing himself against the brick wall, his breath coming out in short, panicked gasps. "I-I don’t know where they took her, I swear—"

Gojo’s expression is unreadable beneath his blindfold, but his voice is ice. "Where."

It isn’t a question. It’s a demand.

The man chokes, scrambling for words. "P-please, man, I just heard they took her underground—"

That’s all Gojo needs.

His fingers loosen, and the man collapses to the ground, coughing and gasping for air. But Gojo doesn’t wait. He’s already gone. Because he’s close. Because they took you from him. Because they think they can keep you.

And they’re about to learn just how wrong they are.

You won’t let him see you sweat.

Not when the ropes burn against your wrists, cutting into your skin with every twitch of your fingers. Not when your head pounds from whatever the hell they drugged you with, the fog in your brain refusing to lift. Not even when Fushiguro Toji leans in, eyes dark with amusement, the sharp glint of his knife catching the dim, flickering light.

He’s enjoying this.

Enjoying the way your muscles tense when the blade spins between his fingers. Enjoying the way your gaze flickers toward the door, toward the single exposed bulb swaying overhead.

Enjoying the way you’re waiting for something.

Or rather, someone.

"What’s wrong, kitty?" he murmurs, the cold edge of steel pressing against your cheek. "Thought your Bat would’ve come for you by now?"

Your lips curl into a smirk, masking the way your stomach coils with unease. "What, jealous?"

Toji chuckles, low and amused, before his fingers curl beneath your chin, tilting your face up. His grip is firm—not cruel, but controlling. A predator playing with his food.

"Nah," he muses. "Just curious how long it’s gonna take him to break."

Your stomach tightens because if there’s one thing you know about Gojo Satoru, it’s this— he doesn’t break.

He shatters. And when he does— he takes everything down with him.

Gojo hears your heartbeat before he sees you. He has some sirt of a bat instinct, you see.

Faint. Steady. Alive.

That’s the only thing keeping him from ripping this place apart.

But the moment he steps inside—the moment his eyes land on you, tied to that fucking chair, with Toji crouched in front of you like a wolf toying with its prey—something inside him snaps.

"Step away from her." His voice is quiet and deadly. The kind of voice that promises violence.

Toji doesn’t even turn around. Instead, he grins, spinning his knife between his fingers. "Took you long enough, Bat."

Gojo doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch, doesn’t blink. "This is your only warning."

Toji finally turns, his sharp green eyes glinting with something dangerous. "Or what?"

Gojo tilts his head, slow and deliberate.

Then—he smiles. "Or I’ll show you why Gotham is afraid of the dark."

You’ve seen him fight before. You’ve seen the way he moves—quick, calculated, precise.

But this? This is different. This isn’t the controlled Bat, this isn’t the patient hunter.

This is Gojo Satoru with nothing left to hold back. And it’s terrifying. Because he’s not just fighting Toji.

He’s dismantling him.

A fist meets flesh with a sickening, brutal crack. Toji throws a punch—Gojo catches his wrist mid-air, twisting hard enough that the snap of bone echoes through the empty warehouse.

Toji grits his teeth, lunges—Gojo moves faster, dodging with ease before slamming him into the concrete so hard the ground cracks beneath them. There’s no banter. No smirk. No teasing.

There’s just rage.

And the worst part? Gojo is enjoying it. Because this isn’t just about you anymore. This is everything.

This is Gotham. The corruption. The powerlessness.

This is every ounce of anger he’s swallowed down for years, unleashed on the one bastard stupid enough to give him an excuse and if you don’t stop him now— he won’t stop at all.

"Satoru." Your voice barely reaches him over the pounding in his ears.

But the second you say his name—his real name— he freezes.

Fist still curled in Toji’s bloodied collar. Breath coming in slow, heavy exhales. Shoulders rising and falling with barely contained fury.

And then, slowly—he turns. His eyes meet yours, and for the briefest moment, they flicker—from Gotham’s Bat to the man underneath. That’s all you need.

"Let him go."

Gojo stares at you, unmoving, his grip tightening for a fraction of a second.

Then, with a sharp breath—he lets Toji’s unconscious body drop to the ground. The tension in his frame lingers, coiled tight, but his steps are steady as he moves toward you. The anger is still there. The darkness. The weight of everything he just did.

But his hands are gentle when they find the ropes binding your wrists.

"Let’s get you out of here."

The silence is suffocating.

You should be grateful though. The moment he cut you loose, he got you out—carried you through Gotham’s backstreets, made sure you weren’t followed. Now, you’re in a hidden safehouse—one of his, no doubt—sitting on an old couch, trying to ignore the dull ache in your wrists.

And him? He’s in the bathroom. Avoiding you.

You hear the water running, the steady drip of blood swirling down the sink. You should leave, you should run. But you don’t. Because you’re not done with him yet.

But for him it keeps replaying in his head. The way you said it.

'"Satoru."'

Not Batman. Not Bats. Not some teasing, smug nickname meant to piss him off. Just his name.

Like you knew exactly what it meant to use it. Like you knew it would break him.

His knuckles sting as he washes off the blood. He should have killed Toji. He should have— no.

No, he shouldn’t have let you get this close. He grips the edge of the sink, eyes burning into his reflection. He can’t want this. He can’t want you.

But then—a creak of the floorboard, a shift in the air. He doesn’t need to turn around to know you’re standing in the doorway. And when you speak— he already knows he’s fucked.

"Let me see your hands."

He doesn’t move, neither does he look at you. But he also doesn’t stop you when you step forward and reach for his hand. The bruises are already blooming, dark and angry across his knuckles.

You should say something sharp—something to piss him off, make him smirk, drag him back into whatever stupid game you’ve been playing for years. But for once, you don’t want to play.

"You could’ve killed him," your voice is quiet.

A muscle in his jaw twitches. "I should have."

"That’s not who you are," you say as you caress the back of his hand.

That makes him snap.

His head jerks up, eyes flashing. "You don’t know who I am."

But you don’t let go.

You squeeze his hand—challenging. "Then tell me."

He doesn't say anything for a while and you feel frustrated.

And then, softer—barely a breath. "You don’t want to know."

The silence between you stretches, thick and heavy, coiling around your throat like a noose.

His hand is still in yours, bruised and warm, fingers twitching like he’s fighting the urge to pull away.

Or worse—hold on tighter.

You don’t let go. Neither does he. And for a moment, just a moment, you let yourself believe that maybe— maybe this isn’t something you have to fight. Maybe this doesn’t have to be another battle, another game of pushing and pulling until one of you finally lets go.

Maybe— but then his grip tightens, and his voice, when he finally speaks, is hoarse. "You should leave."

The words hit harder than any punch.

Your breath catches, but you don’t let it show. You force yourself to smile, to tilt your head like this is nothing, like you aren’t standing on the edge of something that could shatter you completely.

"So that’s it?" you murmur, fingers tracing absent patterns along his wrist, feeling the steady pulse beneath your touch. "I almost die, you almost lose your mind, and now you’re just gonna pretend none of it happened?"

His jaw clenches, eyes flashing, but he doesn’t pull away. "It can’t happen."

You scoff. "Can’t, or won’t?"

He exhales sharply, the muscle in his jaw twitching again. "Don’t do that."

"Do what?"

"Make this something it isn’t."

Anger flickers hot in your chest, and this time, it’s you who tightens your grip. "And what exactly is this, Satoru?"

He doesn’t answer and that’s the worst part. Because you can take a fight. You can take sharp words and heated arguments, can take anger and fire and frustration.

But this? This silence? This refusal to even acknowledge what’s between you? This is what fucking hurts.

You shake your head, laughing bitterly as you finally drop his hand. "You know, for someone who always acts like he’s got all the answers, you really are a fucking coward."

Then you turn. And this time, you walk away first.

He lets you walk away, though he shouldn’t.

He knows he shouldn’t. But he does.

Because if he stops you—if he says anything else, if he gives in even an inch— he won’t be able to stop himself at all.

He won’t be able to stop himself from pulling you back, from letting himself want this, want you, from letting himself believe that there could ever be a world where this doesn't end in disaster.

So he lets you go. He stays in that goddamn bathroom, gripping the counter so hard his knuckles turn white, staring at his own reflection like it’ll give him an answer he doesn’t already fucking know.

Because he knows.

He knows that no matter how many times he tells himself to stay away, no matter how many times he buries it— it’s still there.

It’s been there for years. And now? Now it’s unraveling, slipping through his fingers like smoke, impossible to ignore, impossible to deny. Because the moment you walked away? He felt it.

The weight in his chest, the tightening in his throat, the overwhelming urge to chase after you, to take it back, to do something—

And fuck.

Fuck.

He slams his fist into the mirror before he can stop himself, glass shattering beneath his skin, pain blooming sharp and hot across his knuckles. He doesn’t even feel it. Because all he can think about—all he can fucking think about— is you. And that’s when he knows. This is it. This is the breaking point.

Because the second something happens—the second something puts you in danger again, the second someone so much as looks at you the wrong way— he won’t be able to stop himself.

And this time? He won’t fucking try.

You shouldn’t care. You tell yourself you don’t.

You tell yourself it’s better this way.

You tell yourself you should be used to it by now—used to the push and pull, used to the way he always leaves first, used to the way you always let him.

But this time? This time, it feels different.

This time, it feels like something inside you has been cracked open, exposed, left bleeding in the space between you. This time, you were the one who walked away—and it still fucking hurts.

Because the truth is— you wanted him to stop you. You wanted him to prove you wrong. But he didn’t.

And that? That fucking stings.

You exhale, pressing your fingers to your temples, eyes fluttering shut as you try to push it down, try to shove it deep, deep, deep beneath the surface where it can’t touch you anymore.

But the second you open your eyes, the second you see your reflection in the grimy window of your apartment—

You know. You know this isn’t over, because no matter how hard you try to run from it— it always brings you back to him.

You were lost in your thoughts, more like consumed by them that you forgot. You're Catwoman. You're in the freaking city of Gotham. You should've known. It happens fast. Too fast.

One second, you’re walking down the empty streets of Gotham, the cool night air biting at your skin, the weight of earlier still sitting heavy in your chest—

And the next? You’re surrounded.

Shadows slip out from the alleys, footsteps closing in, voices murmuring in low, amused tones. "Look what we have here…"

"Thought you were untouchable, sweetheart?"

Shit.

You recognize them instantly—Falcone’s men. Which means this isn’t a random attack. This is a message, a warning. A consequence for getting too close to Gotham’s Bat.

You bite back a curse, hands twitching at your sides, muscles tensing as you count the men, assess the distance, calculate your odds.

Four—maybe five. Armed? Most likely. A fight you could win? …Not without consequences.

But what other choice do you have? Because you already know— no one is coming to save you. Not this time.

Satoru feels it before he hears it.

It’s instinct.

A sharp, sudden shift in his chest, a gut-wrenching pull like something inside him is being ripped apart. Then— the comm buzzes.

"We got a situation." Nanami’s voice is clipped, urgent. "Falcone’s men. Five of them. Near Harbor Street."

And before he can even think—before he can stop himself—he’s already moving. Because he knows.

He fucking knows.

You don’t go down easy. They think they’ve already won. They think this will be easy.

They think you’re just a pretty little thief, just a girl who got in too deep, just another lesson to be taught. And that’s their first mistake. Because you don’t go down easy.

You move before they do—a sharp kick, a twist, a knife pulled from your belt and pressed to the throat of the closest man before he can even blink.

"Try it," you hiss, voice laced with venom.

He hesitates, and in that second, you know—you have an opening.

But then— a gun cocks.

And a voice—low, amused, familiar—cuts through the night like a blade. "Tsk. Always making things difficult, aren’t you, kitten?"

Your blood runs cold because you know that voice.

Suguru Geto.

And that? That changes everything.

You’ve honestly been in worse situations. But not many.

Not ones that make your stomach twist quite like this, not ones that make your pulse hammer against your ribs in something too sharp, too visceral, too close to fear. Because this isn’t just anyone. This isn’t some low-level thug. This isn’t even some mob boss looking to put you in your place. This is Suguru Geto.

And he doesn’t waste his time on small threats. No, when he moves, when he speaks, when he smiles—it means something.

"You’ve been causing quite the stir lately," he muses, stepping closer, his hands tucked casually in his coat pockets. "Getting on the Bat’s good side, stepping on all the wrong toes—really, kitten, I expected better from you."

You force your grip to stay steady, the knife still pressed against the throat of the man you caught off guard.

"Flattered, really," you say, keeping your voice light, like your pulse isn’t hammering, like your fingers aren’t itching to grab your grapple and run. "Didn’t think I’d be important enough to warrant a visit from the great Suguru Geto himself."

He chuckles—low, smooth, condescending. "Oh, you’re important," he says. "Just not in the way you think."

Your jaw tightens. "Yeah? Then why are you here?"

He tilts his head, watching you like you’re a puzzle he’s already figured out. "Because," he hums, "you have something that belongs to me."

The USB.

Shit.

Your grip on the knife falters for half a second—half a second too long. Because before you can react, before you can process, before you can even think— The man you were holding twists, shoving you off, the cold barrel of a gun pressing against your ribs before you can recover.

And just like that— you’re out of options.

Satoru's close.

Close enough that he can hear the words, close enough that he can hear your fucking pulse spike.

And that? That’s what does it. Because it’s one thing to be reckless. It’s one thing to be stubborn, to push him away, to insist that you don’t need him, that you can handle yourself.

But this? This is different because Geto doesn’t make idle threats.

And the second Gojo hears the sharp intake of your breath, the second he hears the shift of movement, the second he realizes exactly what’s happening— he moves. Fast. Too fast for them to react.

Because one second, Geto is smirking, enjoying his little game— and the next? He’s eating pavement.

Satoru doesn't hold back. He could, he should. But he doesn’t.

Because the second he sees that gun against your ribs, the second he sees the way your shoulders tense, the way your eyes flicker with something you never let anyone see— it’s over.

The first punch sends Geto flying. The second cracks something, leaves him coughing up blood.

The third? That one’s personal.

Because Gojo has been patient. He’s let things slide, let lines blur, let the underworld think he’s just another player in the game. But this? This is different. This is you. And that? That changes everything.

You've seen his fight countless times, but not like this. Not like he’s tearing through them without a second thought, not like he’s this close to losing control, not like the only thing keeping him from going too far is the fact that you’re standing right there.

It should scare you.

It should make you rethink everything, should remind you why you’ve always kept your distance, why you’ve always told yourself you couldn’t afford to get caught up in whatever the hell is between you. But it doesn’t. Because all you can think, as you watch him break Geto’s men like they’re nothing— is that he came. That you didn’t even call for him, and he still fucking came.

And when it’s over, when the dust settles and Geto is left bloody and laughing on the pavement, when Gojo finally turns to you, breath ragged, knuckles split, eyes burning— you don’t run. You don’t even flinch.

Because you know what this means. What it’s always meant. And maybe—maybe this time, neither of you will walk away first.

You really think you should stop this. You should. You should shove him away, should tell him this doesn’t change anything, should remind yourself why this is a bad idea, why this has always been a bad idea.

But when his fingers curl around your wrist, when he tugs you closer, when his breath ghosts over your lips— you don’t move. You don’t speak. You don’t even breathe. Because this isn’t like before.

This isn’t a game, isn’t a moment either of you will walk away from, isn’t something that can be brushed aside when the night is over. This is the point of no return.

And when he finally, finally closes the distance— you let him.

Because maybe—just maybe—you were never meant to run from him in the first place. It was always going to be you, always.

From the moment you first slipped past his defenses, from the moment you first met his gaze across the rooftops of Gotham, from the moment you first left him standing there with nothing but your name on his tongue and your laughter ringing in his ears— it was always going to be you.

And now? Now, with you in his arms, with your fingers tangled in his hair, with your taste on his lips, he knows there’s no going back. He doesn’t want to.

Because if Gotham is his curse, if the mask is his burden, if the weight of this city is something he’ll never escape— then you? You're the only thing that’s ever made it worth it. And for once, just once—he’s taking what he wants.

You find yourself on the rooftop with him, where it all began.

The city glows beneath you. The skyline stretches out, endless and alive, neon lights flickering, sirens wailing in the distance, the hum of Gotham’s heartbeat steady and unyielding.

It’s always been like this. Always moving. Always demanding. Always taking. And you? You’ve always been running.

But tonight? Tonight, you stand still. Because Gojo is in front of you, mask off, white hair ruffled by the wind, the cut on his lip still fresh from the fight, his eyes— those damn blue eyes—locked onto yours like he’s trying to memorize you, like he already knows what’s coming.

"So this is it, huh?" he says, voice low, rough.

You swallow hard, forcing a smirk. "Come on, Bat. You knew it wouldn’t last."

His jaw clenches. "Doesn’t mean I have to like it."

You step closer, tilting your head. "You’ll live."

He exhales sharply, like he’s about to say something—something real, something that might make you stay— but you can’t let him.

So you reach up, fingers barely brushing his jaw, a ghost of a touch, a silent goodbye.

"Goodbye, Batman," you whisper, voice softer than you mean it to be. "Gotham needs you."

For a second, just a second—you think that’s it. That he’ll let you go. That he’ll watch you disappear into the night like you always do.

But then— his hand catches yours. Tightly. Desperately. And when he speaks, when his voice finally breaks— it nearly stops you in your tracks.

"Why don’t you stay, Cat?" he murmurs, raw, unguarded, everything. "I need you."

Your breath catches as your heart lurches. Because that—that’s the one thing you weren’t ready for. But you force a smirk, even as your chest aches.

"That’s your problem, Bat." You squeeze his hand once, just once—before slipping free. "You’re not supposed to." You pause and for once give him a big genuine smile. "See ya later batman."

And with that— you step back and you turn, as you disappear into the night, like you always do.

Because Gotham needs him. And maybe he was never meant to need you.

@do-morochaa @madamechrissy @katthekat1234 (hope y'all like it😭💗)

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

".....That would be nice." Gojo said happy but Nobara sighed rolling her eyes. However, she keeps walking with the others to leave and find the two.

Reigen sees they were now along but he looks to his brother with arms crossed to sigh. "I said I just wanna help the world and everyone I can. Even when it comes to these spirits and people. I just...wanna be more helpful. I mean I used to be just doing this for...money but I changed to wanting to help others.."

Nanami gave Gojo a look on wanting to see more. Kinie snickers inside Taz's head while Yuria sighs, "Come on, sensei! We need to look for Daichi and Megumi right now." Yuria reminds him, going to drags him.

"Thank you." Nanami said, waiting for the others to leave.

"Awwww no fair! I wanted to see how this goes!" he pouts being dragged.

"Sensei, you can just watch some tv. We need to find Daichi and Megumi like Yuria said. We have to be sure they are safe." Nobara said as they were leaving. Reigen sees the students leave but he wonders what else his big brother had to say.

[monzabee]

greedy (social media au) - ln4

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where lando finds a certain singer cute.

Pairing: lando norris x singer!reader (model used: tate mcrae)

Warnings: none other than some cursing

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

yourusername

Liked by oliviarodrigo, conangray, landonorris and 638,957 others

yourusername: signing off to work on some exciting things!! xox

oliviarodrigo: no come hang out with me and @conangray !!!

conangray: we have cookies !!!

yourusername: this album is not going to write itself, guys !!!

user: okay she looks so slay, but who took the photos??

user: lando?? ariana what are you doing here??

user: oh he's shooting his shot alright...

user: it's been 357457 days without a yn album

user: slay me, rip me, i'm died dead

view all 126,746 comments

yourusername posted a story!

landonorris

Liked by danielricciardo, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 708,818 others

landonorris: learnt a lot about shooting your shot, nice

user: oh he's good

user: wdym shooting your shot?? what??

user: girl you are a couple of chapters behind...

user: this was a crossover i didn't know i needed

user: lando this is the wrong sport honey

view all 176,928 comments

oscarpiastri: i'm very confused

user: so are we oscar

user: he's so one of us

landonorris: 🤫

user: WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

landonorris posted a story!

yourusername

Liked by landonorris, lirislaw, oliviarodrigo and 809,398 others

yourusername: greedy out on all platforms today!! give it a listen if you're as obsessed as zambonis as me!!

user: somebody check on lando norris to see if he's still alive

user: i can already hear him screaming somewhere

user: he's going to be streaming this song non-stop during his streams

user: at least she will be getting that copyright check

user: FINALLY MOTHER SLAY

user: she didn't choose the hockey life, the hockey life chose her

user: zambonis (some madness) and yn (and badness), the combination

view all 263,827 comments

conangray: i have no idea what a fucking zamboni is but i'm in

oliviarodrigo: you know what a zamboni is

conangray: no i don't

yourusername: yes you do

conangray: yes i do

landonorris posted a story!

yourusername

Liked by landonorris, conangray, danielricciardo and 923,630 others

yourusername: 2023, you were great, 2024 better take notes

user: WELL LANDO WASN'T DELULU AFTER ALL

user: i still can't believe he pulled her and we all thought it was unreciprocated

user: 🤡this is us rn🤡

user: i call this dedication

user: my man took 'blood, toil, tears and sweat' to a whole other level

user: this is what i call a patriotic brit🫡

landonorris: cutie

yourusername: 🫠🫠

view all 352,874 comments

danielricciardo: fucking finally, i was losing hair because of the stress of this relationship being a fucking secret

yourusername: i don't think that was because of us danny

landonorris: burn

[thehelltingvilleclub]

Bill Dickey - Comic & Ego Extraordinaire

Welcome to the club, why not meet the president?

William “Bill” Alan Dickey [04/13/80] | [5'11.5 (that .5 is real Important*)] Secretary of Comics | President of the Eltingville Club AOL / Online Users: [greedo318] | [DarkxKnightx] Theme Songs: What’s My Age Again? - blink-182 | My Own Worst Enemy - Lit | Brutal - Negative 25 Favorite Shit: Stan Lee, The X-Men, Complete Runs, Signed Editions, The Joker, Emma Frost, The Batman, Alternate Earths, Variant Covers, Crossovers, Torrent Sites, Action Figures, Statues/Busts, Alex Ross, Bondage Covers, First Printings, Continuity, Cosplay Chicks, “Headlights”.

In the ripe year of 1999, Bill Dickey couldn't be any more... Tired? Annoyed? A lonely piece o' sh-- But that's fine, everything is fine, right guys? .... Guys? The fact he's managed to keep the club together is baffling at best (and all thanks to Jerry, and May.. er.. Mr. Osewai, actually), and completely unbelievable at worst, but he's still got his friends (kind of) and they still like him (eh..) He's a nice guy, honest, just.. don't turn on your brain.

Variants Under the Cut--

Oh Captain, My Captain

His @ greedo318 account got banned essentially in the first two weeks of him getting it on Messenger about a year back, as May and Pete helped Josh essentially spam report it when he started to harass Josh there too. Hence the new name that he actually uses.

Mrs. Dickey is still trying to force him to get a job, and while he has applied, he flops any and every interview he lands with his stupid need to be the loudest asshole in the room.

This man's ego is absolutely the size of the sun, it's almost immeasurable I assure you, HOWEVER--

Show him some ⋆｡°✩spunk~✮⋆˙ show him you bark back just as harsh as him and he *might* just keep you around.

Someone please just get him a better acne face wash and a steady form of income that isn't his mother's paychecks bro please for the love of god--

He was actually one of the first in the group to get a car, but he never has money for gas so he like never drives it. It was a "gift from dad" according to his mom, but he doesn't believe her for a minute. (He's convinced she bought it for him to get him to move out.)

His mom watches Titanic every year on his birthday after 1997 and he HATES it to the point he has threatened to disconnect the breaker if she kept playing it at full volume.

He is still convinced that he has a shot with May (Despite her telling him repeatedly no) and is INSISTENT about it like a possessive little weirdo (news flash, he doesn't but he's delusional so it's fine)

^^ This absolutely pisses Pete off but he can't say shit cause he's a baby that won't ask her out so--

The night of the Destruction of Joe's Fantasy World, Mr. Osewai had tried to stop in and pick something up for May when he walked in on.. well, Dickey on fire. His paternal instincts kicked in and managed to help the kids and smooth some things over with the families (and.. may or may not have threatened to rip out Joe's tongue but like it's fine).

Dickey has a strong sense of gratitude for the guy, even if he expresses it in the WEIRDEST ways, 'cause at the end of the day the guy kind of saved his only group of friends from his own bullshit.

When he does eventually land a job, it's essentially a generic gas station attendant, but they let him read his comics on the job when he has to work nights so that's a plus?

Guh guys I hate this man so much can someone please explain why I have so much fun drawing him please please please--

also... this somethin' y'all want?

[ssprayberrythings]

two worlds collide | LN4

lando norris x actress!reader / smau fic 

fc: madelyn cline 

warnings: none, i just enjoy overindulging with fluff 

i got so carried away with this but honestly i’m proud of it so i hope you enjoy. also obx is one of my favourite shows which is why i decided on mads as my f/c so i could incorporate two of my passions !! 

-

yourusername posted on their instagram

ynismylife, ynloverr, iloveyn & others liked 

bored of these hotel rooms 

view all comments 

ynismylife: OMG MOM 

iloveynyl: SHES STUNNING 

ynsluvrr: IM DROOLING SHES SO PRETTY 

iloveyn: I WANT TO MARRY HER 

fanofyn: HOW IS SHE SINGLE 

╰ ynismylife: BEATS ME, I WOULD DATE HER IN A HEARTBEAT 

-

yourusername posted on their story  

caption: made it back home in enough time for the race 🏎️

*replies disabled* 

-

madisonbaileybabe posted on their instagram

📍charleston, north carolina 

obxluvrr, obxislife, maybankloverr, ynismylife & others liked 

the girls are back 

tagged: @yourusername 

view all comments 

obx4life: AH THEYRE BOTH SO PRETTY 

ynfan: Y/N ONE CHANCE PLEASE 

user5: drooling..

user7: cant tell if i want to be them or be with them 

yourusername: i was missing you big time 🫂

╰ liked by madisonbaileybabe 

ynupdates_ posted on their instagram 

ynislife, obxfan, user5 & others liked 

y/n seen out with madison bailey the other night. happy to see the two outer banks co stars hangout even during their time off 

*comments disabled* 

-

yourusername posted on their story  

caption: where could we be going now @yourbestfriend 

╰ yourbestfriend: AH YOUR FANS ARE GONNA GO CRAZY WHEN THEY SEE US THIS WEEKEND 

yourbestfriend posted on their instagram

📍las vegas, nevada  

ynfan, user20, user1 & others liked 

thanks y/n for being famous and taking me with you to cool events 🎰

tagged: @yourusername 

view all comments 

ynfan: AHHHH THEYRE IN LAS VEGAS 

user2: wish my best friend was famous, must be nice 

ynislife: wait does anyone know if the grand prix for f1 is happening this weekend too? cause y/n is an f1 fan and thAT WOULD BE SO COOL IF SHE WENT 

�� f1fan: yes the vegas grand prix is this weekend !! 

╰ ynislife: omg OMG omg OMG 

yourusername: you’re welcome, no one else i’d rather have by my side 😘

╰ liked by yourbestfriend 

user7: y/n travels a lot and still manages to look like that? what is her skincare routine 😩

╰ user1: I WAS WONDERING THE SAME THING 

yourusername posted on their story  

caption: this weekend is one for the books i can already tell 🤩

╰ f1: cant wait to see you in the paddock !! 

╰ yourbestfriend: super excited !! 

╰ redbullracing: thanks for joining us as a guest of red bull :) 

-

redbullracing posted on their instagram  

yourusername, maxverstappen1, landonorris & others liked 

what a great weekend in las vegas full of so much excitement with both of our drivers making podium, getting to see lots of stars come out & once again securing another win under our belt towards that final championship. keep up the good work everyone 🏆

#RedBullRacing #LasVegasGP

tagged: maxverstappen1, schecoperez, gordanramsey, sirrodstewart, yourusername 

view all comments 

ynfan: omg omg omg omg she met max ????

f1fan: Y/N WITH MAX WAS A CROSSOVER I NEVER REALIZED I NEEDED 

f1updates: people in paddock this weekend said Y/N was so happy to be there and was so grateful for the opportunity 

yourusername: thank you again for having me. its a weekend i’ll never forget ! 

╰ redbullracing: thanks for accepting our invitation, hope to see you around the paddock more often ! 

ynismylove: is no one talking about lando being in red bull’s likes ?? is that normal ?? 

╰ verstappenmaxfan: im not too sure now that i think about it 

Max was quietly scrolling on his phone after the Las Vegas grand prix, enjoying some down time before the final race of the season . He was just absently looking on tiktok when he received a phone call from none other than Lando. 

“Lando, mate how are you doing after the Las Vegas grand prix?” Max asked, knowing Lando had been taken to medic after his nasty crash at the recent grand prix 

“I’m good, still a bit sore but I’ve gotten the clear to race in the upcoming race so I’m looking forward to that” Lando explained “Thats not why I’m calling though” he continued 

“Oh. What’s up then?” Max asked slightly confused 

“Y/N Y/L/N was at the Las Vegas grand prix and you met her? How was she? She got invited by Red Bull, how did that work? Is she as pretty in person as she is on social media?” Lando rambled on 

“Lando take a breath” Max chuckled “But yes she was there, invited by Red Bull. I think they just reached out to her and asked if she wanted to come. How is she? Dude I don’t know, she’s nice, kept thanking everyone for the invitation, she told us she’s a massive F1 fan which was cool” Max answered the boys questions 

“And as for her looks, I have a girlfriend however yes she looks the same in person as she does in the media” He rolled his eyes even if Lando couldn’t see him. “Why are you so curious?” He asked his friend trying to understand where all this was coming from 

“She’s been one of my biggest celebrity crushes and I was so looking forward to hopefully getting to meet her when I found out she’d be there but then I crashed” He chuckled slightly at how much he sounded like a little kid “Then I saw you met her and just wanted to see what she was like” He explained to Max 

Max let out a laugh before answering the younger driver “Well Mate, you should have McLaren invite her to the final race of the season, this way you’ll get to meet her” Max suggested “Im sure she’ll accept, I believe she said filming for her show hasn’t started yet so she’s available” He explained to Lando 

“Ohhh maybe I’ll mention it to the admin team” Lando said more as a thought than a concrete response “Anyways I have to go, Oscar and I are filming a PR video. Thanks Max, see you in a couple days” Lando said before hanging up before Max could say anything else 

Max just laughed “Bye to you to” he said out loud before going back to scrolling on his phone. 

-

yourbestfriend posted on their story  

caption: little beach picnic before she’s off again to her next destination 

╰ yourusername: they said i could bring a +1, you can still come 🥺

╰ yourbestfriend: i have back to back shoots or else i would 🥺

-

yourusername posted on their story

caption: another day, another f1 race 🧡

╰ yourbestfriend: omg you made it! cant wait to hear all about it! 

╰ mclaren: so happy to have you join us for the last race of the season! 

yourusername posted on their instagram  

ynislife, f1fan, landonorris, mclaren & others liked 

thanks mclaren for inviting me this weekend especially for the last race of the season. i had such a pleasure getting to meet everyone. cant wait for the 2024 season🧡

tagged: landonorris, mclaren

view all comments 

ynfan: OMGGGG SHE WENT TO ANOTHER RACE AND THIS TIME SHE WAS INVITED BY MCLAREN 

f1fan: I’M NOT DOING WELL 

mclarenlove: SHE LOOKS SO GOOD IN ORANGE WOOOO

mclaren: the pleasure was all ours, hopefully we get to see you in our garage more often, orange seems to be your colour 😉

╰ liked by yourusername

landonorris: it was so nice getting to meet you, we should hangout again

╰ user4: wait is this lando flirting? 

╰ user14: LANDO NORRIZ MAY ACTUALLY HAVE RIZ 

╰ yourusername: it was nice getting to meet you too & i’d love to hangout sometime 

╰ ynfanforlife: omMGGGGG WAIT I NEED TO KNOW WHAT LANDO DID IN ORDER TO WIN OUR GIRL OVER 

-

yourusername posted on their instagram          

landonorris, oscarpiastri, yourbestfriend, obx, ynylnismylove & others liked 

my life recently on film 🎞️ 

tagged: madisonbaileybabe, oscarpiastri, landonorris, chasestokes, drewstarkey, yourbestfriend

view all comments 

ynfan: OMG OBX X F1 CROSSOVER 

ynxf1lovers: OMG MY FAVES 

yourbestfriend: crazy time in sin city 🎰🍹🪩

╰ liked by yourusername 

chasestokes: living ur best life miss y/n 

╰ yourusername: you know it 😎

f1wagupdates: i know she’s not an official wag but can we make an exception cause i need to see y/n at more races 

╰ user4: AGREED ^ 

╰ ynloverr: A MOOD !!! 

oscarpiastri: youre such a vibe 

╰ yourusername: thank you thank you, i try 

╰ landonorris: send me the film pics, i need them for the .jpg account 

╰ yourusername: you got it ! 

landonorris: i feel so honoured to be featured on here 

╰ yourusername: you should, only the people i really like get posted 

╰ landonorris: is that you admitting you like me? ive been swooned 

╰ yourusername: 🙄

-

lando.jpg posted on their instagram 

yourusername, oscarpiastri, landonorris, yourbestfriend & others liked 

y/n making her debut on the .jpg account 

tagged: yourusername 

view all comments 

user4: WOOO EVERYONE WAKE UP LANDO POSTED ON THE .JPG ACCOUNT 

landoobsessed: OMGGGG THESE PHOTOS ARE STUNNING 

ynfanforlife: OMG Y/N IS STUNNING AS ALWAYS 

oscarpiastri: its giving soft launch 

╰ landonorris: no its not 

╰ liked by yourusername 

yourbestfriend: UHM Y/N CARE TO EXPLAIN @yourusername 

╰ yourusername: nope..im good 

user4: SO ARE WE ALL FREAKING OUT OR IS IT JUST ME 

╰ user5: I AM TOO 

╰ y/nfan: ME THREE 

╰ user15: ME X4 

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yourusername posted on their story  

caption: 🧡 

╰ yourbestfriend: HELLO???? THIS IS SO RELATIONSHIPY, I NEED DETAILS 

╰ yourusername: ITS NOT A RELATIONSHIP….I MEAN NOT YET 

╰ yourbestfriend: OMGGGGG 

landonorris posted on their story  

caption: this is the best you’re gonna get with a soft launch 

╰ oscarpiastri: is it a soft launch if you’ve already posted her on the .jpg account 🤔

╰ landonorris: get out 

-

yourusername posted on their instagram  

landonorris, yourbestfriend, obx & others liked 

certified lover girl 

view all comments 

yourbestfriend: my best friend is a stunner

╰ yourusername: says you 

obx: consider us certified y/n lovers 

╰ yourusername: i love you guys 

ynfan: SHES GLOWING FOR REAL 

landoandynaremyparents: PLEASE JUST TELL ME YOU AND LANDO ARE DATING SO I CAN REST IN PEACE 

landonorris: no comment, im speechless 

╰ yourusername: youre not slick 

oscarpiastri: Y/N LANDOS REACTION TO THIS WAS PRICELESS, YOU CAUGHT HIM SO OFF GUARD 

╰ yourusername: hehe thanks for the live update 🤭

╰ landonorris: OSCAR GET OUT…again 

-

yourusername posted on their story  

caption: when he takes you to paris

*replies disabled* 

landonorris posted on their story  

caption: i brought her to paris 

*replies disabled* 

-

yourusername posted on their instagram  

landonorris, yourbestfriend, madisonbaileybabe, ynloverr & others liked 

kissed by the sun☀️💋

tagged: landonorris 

view all comments 

yourbestfriend: i’ve never seen you so happy, the “sun” looks good on you 😉

╰ liked by yourusername

ynisthebest: C’MON ARE THEY SERIOUSLY NOT GONNA CONFIRM THIS, ITS SO OBVIOUS THEYRE DATING 

f1fan: I JUST WANT WHAT THEY HAVE 

╰ ynfan: YOU AND ME BOTH 

landonorris: wait when did you take that photo ?

╰ yourusername: when you had a zoom call with the team & you thought i was napping 🤭

╰ landonorris: youre sneaky, i love it 

╰ liked by yourusername  

obxloverr: goals, actual goals 

landonorris posted on their story  

caption: when she makes you dinner >>> 

╰ oscarpiastri: when are you gonna start calling her your girlfriend publicly 

╰ landonorris: when we’re both ready, its fun doing this and seeing how people react, yourself included 

╰ oscarpiastri: 🙄🙄

-

yourusername posted on their instagram   

landonorris, oscarpiastri, yourbestfriend, ynfan & others liked 

ask and you shall receive; yes we’re dating 🧡

tagged: landonorris

view all comments 

landonorris: now i can publicly comment on how much i adore you 

╰ yourusername: youre such a simp, i love it, never stop 

╰ landonorris: don’t plan on it 

╰ oscarpiastri: not looking forward to third wheeling once the season starts up again 

╰ landonorris: HAHAHA that sounds like a you problem 

╰ yourusername: OSC IGNORE HIM, WE LOVE YOU 

╰ landonorris: BABEEEEE

yourbestfriend: can he fight ? cause if he hurts you, i go full bestie protective mode 

╰ yourusername: HAHAHAH i appreiciate you, more than you know 

╰ landonorris: i don’t plan on hurting her, you have my word 🫡

╰ yourbestfriend: good answer 

ynfan: THEY REALLY ARE THE CUTEST 

f1wagupdates: NEW WAG, I REPEAT NEW WAG ADDED TO THE LIST!!! 

user4: CANT WAIT FOR THE Y/N PADDOCK CONTENT ONCE RACES START 

user15: I’M SO HAPPY FOR THEM 

landonorris posted on their instagram    

yourusername, f1fan, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 & others liked 

found my other half 🫂

tagged: yourusername 

view all comments 

yourusername: never met anyone more into film and photography, other than myself..😍

╰ landonorris: thats why we work 😏

╰ liked by yourusername

f1fan: living for this 

ynfan: STOPPPP 

maxverstappen1: siri play mastermind by taylor swift

╰ landonorris: STOP GET OUT 

╰ yourusername: wait WHAT DOES HE MEAN? TELL ME 

╰ landonorris: no

╰ yourusername: pleaseeeeeeee

╰ landonorris: respectfully, no 

╰ yourusername: 😠

You looked up from your phone, eyeing Lando across the room also on his phone “what is Max talking about?” You asked him this time in person 

“Nothing” he said not looking up from his phone

You got up, going to sit next to him “Babe, c’mon I’m sure it is nothing, I just want to know” you explained, you were just curious 

Lando looked up from his phone meeting your eyes “Okay fine” he said as he locked his phone and turned his body to be facing you “Its really not a big deal but before you and I met, even before you got invited by Mclaren, I reached out to Max cause I had seen at the Las Vegas grand prix you met eachother” he started

“And I was kind of upset, maybe even a little jealous that I crashed out and didn’t get the chance to meet you, so I called Max and asked what you were like” He chuckled to himself, it sounded funnier saying this out loud 

“Okay but why were you upset you didn’t get to meet me?” You asked, not fully understanding what he was getting at

“You were one of my biggest celebrity crushes” He told you a small blush appearing on his face “Which is why when I didn’t get to meet you after Vegas, I may have mentioned to someone on the admin team to reach out and invite you to the last race of the season” He finished 

“Wait so you already had a crush on me before we even met? Lando thats so cute” You smiled at him “I get why Max commented that now, you really were the mastermind, I’m impressed” You smirked 

“Really? You don’t think its weird or anything?” He asked for reassurance 

“Not at all” You told him, moving closer to him on the couch “If you hadn’t have done what you did, who knows if we’d be here right now” You explained smiling at him, Lando returning the same smile 

“I cant imagine not having you in my life” He exclaimed, playing with the rings you had on your fingers “The feelings mutual” You told him leaning in and giving him a quick kiss on the lips before pulling back and cuddling into his side enjoying this moment. 

-

yourusername posted on their instagram  

landonorris, maxverstappen1, yourbestfriend & others liked 

never stop being mine 🥹

tagged: landonorris 

view all comments 

landonorris: i don’t plan on it, youre stuck with me 🥹

╰ yourusername: sounds good to me 

maxverstappen1: happy everything worked out for you two 

╰ liked by yourusername & landonorris 

ynfan: mom and dad 

f1fan: endgame 

ynislife: our girl found her happily ever after 

obx: y/n we couldn’t be happier for you and feel free to bring him around once filming starts, maybe we can sneak him in as a cameo 😉

╰ yourusername: OMG DONT TELL HIM THAT 

╰ landonorris: WAIT FOR REAL 

╰ yourusername: no they’re joking..

╰ obx: maybe we are, maybe we aren’t, who knows 🤷🏻‍♀️

╰ obxfan4life: the obx admin knows what the fans want 

f1fanxobx: THE F1 X OBX: CROSSOVER OF THE CENTURY 

-

that was so fun to write, i hope you enjoyed it !!

feel free to comment thoughts and/or make requests !! 🫶