#i wrote this in like 2-3 hours

[left-side-up]

Mars

One hour, thirty-seven minutes, and sixteen seconds left.

Martyn wipes the blood from his face, still panting heavily. He won. As the red haze fades from his mind, so does the ecstasy of victory.

He's the last one standing. It's over. So why is his clock still ticking?

For the first time since becoming red, he's... numb. His eyes land on Scott's body.

"Come on," he whispers, as if breaking the silence would wake his teammate, as if anything could wake Scott now. "Time to go home."

One hour, six minutes, and ten seconds left.

It takes Martyn a while to carry Scott's body back to the Coral Isles and begin digging. He furrows his brow as he pushes the shovel into the earth, hoping the minimal enchantments will save him some time. He has to get this done. Has to make up for what he did, even if it's just a small gesture like this.

(Has to keep his mind off of the memories that have been slipping into his head since he killed Impulse. Soulmates, spyglasses, snow. Things that were stolen from him long ago.)

He groans as the shovel hits stone, then pulls out his pickaxe. This is going to take longer than he'd hoped.

Thirty-eight minutes and thirty-two seconds left.

Martyn almost sheds a tear of relief when the grave is finally deep enough. Instead, he spends those precious seconds setting down the shovel and going to pick up Scott.

He's badly burned from the lava, and the stab wound has left his shirt covered in blood. He'd hate that Martyn is leaving him in such a filthy set of clothes, but he'd also hate the idea of Martyn swapping his shirt out for him. It probably doesn't matter all that much- he's going to be covered in dirt either way.

"Alright, Smajor," Martyn tells him. "Time to rest."

He lowers his teammate into the grave.

(A fellow soldier of Dogwarts. A canary. And now, his Mean Gill. Though he didn't know it when he began digging, he's done this before.)

Once Scott is settled, Martyn picks the shovel back up. His work isn't finished yet.

Eleven minutes and fifty-one seconds left.

At last, Scott is put to rest, and Martyn is free to lie down and breathe.

The ocean breeze pushes his hair out of his face. He's acutely aware of the dried blood and sweat on his skin, but he can't be bothered with it. He's not spending his last ten minutes alive taking a bath.

Besides, he knows the feeling won't go away no matter how hard he scrubs at the grime.

With nothing to keep him busy, the swarm of memories attacks him with renewed fervor. A lonely bastion. A group of towers. A castle, drained of its warmth. A resentful soulbound, a traitorous group of four, a unified army. Everything bleeds together and pulls him in every direction he's ever been in. Each path leads to one thing.

Guilt.

Guilt for leaving the one person who was supposed to be by his side until the end. For letting each and every one of his friends die before him. For failing to protect his king.

And now, for killing his only friend in the world.

He lets himself drown in it.

One minute and forty-seven seconds left.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

The grave doesn't respond. Graves don't tend to respond to apologies.

"I think I'm only capable of being truly loyal to one person. And he's found his way out of this hell, so... yeah."

The waves crash against the beach. The sand in the hourglass trickles down.

One minute and nineteen seconds left.

"I didn't know that I was going to betray you. If this happens again- if this cursed game keeps going, I need you to find better allies, yeah? Don't trust me. I don't want to backstab you again."

He opens his eyes to find the sky clear and blue for the first time in a while. It's been filled with smoke and ash for the past few days, but it seems to have finally cleared up.

Thirty-six seconds left.

Martyn grabs the banner from his belt. He didn't know what it meant when he made it. He just knew that it felt right.

Now, he stares at the red flag of Dogwarts again, and he misses someone.

"I hope you found your way out this game for good. Not because I don't miss you. I just... want you to be happy."

Twenty seconds left.

"I wish I'd had time to apologize to you too. I wish we'd met somewhere nicer."

Thirteen seconds left.

"But there's no point in wishing here, is there?"

Eight seconds left.

Martyn holds the banner to his chest. Looks at the grave beside him. Closes his eyes again.

Four seconds left.

"Goodbye, Scott. Bye, Ren."

Three.

Two.

One.

[sophiethewitch1]

congrats on the milestone sophie! i'm so excited to read what you have to share with us! For your 1k celbration, if it's not too much, I'd like to ask for ABXS for Jason and Dick uwu And if ur feeling particularly sharing I'd also love an L from all of them owo

Strei!!! Thank you for the kind words, here's what you asked for. I even did the L's as well for my dearest most beloved mutual <3

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, gen yandere behaviour, murder, stalking, worshipping/weirdly religious undertones for Dick, um pet play sort of?? Jason would bark if you asked him to is all I'm saying.

A = Affection (Is Their Love All-consuming, Expressed Through Possessive Gestures and Overwhelming Intensity With No Bounds?):

Jason: Spreading my Jason Todd Loyal Dog Agenda here but he’s so unbelievably loyal. Way, way too loyal. It doesn’t matter if he personally agrees with whatever your decisions are, he’s listening like the loyal hound he is. Will push and prod at you, but at the end of the day, he’s devoted. While he’d always prefer to be as close to you as possible, he’s willing to stay away if that’s what you really want. Simple guy, aware of himself, and mostly in control of his more fervent tendencies. He refuses to lose control of you, to take too much, so he doesn’t take any. Just giving, giving, giving. He only hopes you’ll take him.

Dick: Dick is probably one of the most clingy yanderes out there. While others might stalk you, or protect you from afar, that’s not Dick’s methodology. He wants to be with you all the time, and make you happy all the time, and he spends his afternoons daydreaming about sitting between your thighs for hours at a time. All the time, if it was possible. While he’s trying not to overwhelm you, he’ll stay as calm and charming as possible. But eventually, he’s going to have to start confessing his love to you because he feels like he’ll explode with it. Along with acts of service, physical affection, and verbal affection, he also really likes buying you things. He’s an all-rounder. Still, he prefers buying you experiences rather than items, like holidays or trips to the fair. He decides against buying you a private island to visit for the summer, but only after staring at the property page online for three hours straight. Like I said, he really is trying!

B = Blood (How Messy Are They Willing to Get in Pursuit of Their Darling? Would They Embrace Chaos and Revel in the Crimson Tableau Painted by Their Actions?):

Dick: I’ve mentioned before that he’s pretty hesitant to kill. He’s gotten over his wild younger years, and is now more mature and in control of emotions. Now, all of that is one huge lie he tells himself that only lasts as long nobody ever tries to hurt you. Dick wears his heart on his sleeve, and then it gets even worse when you come around because his heart is just walking around outside his chest, with no aknowledgement for the dangers of the world. He does try, he really does, but when he snaps, he snaps hard. He’s not too bad of a sadist (also a lie) but when he easily catches whoever has been bothering you, he… well, he might play with them. Just a little bit. He doesn’t kill, he’s very careful of that, but honestly if I was that poor soul, I’d rather be dead. And then the next day, he goes back to being the cheerful sweetheart we all know and love!

Jason: I’ve also mentioned that Jason, unlike Dick, is very, very eager to get bloody. In canon, he enjoys punishing sinners and whatnot, and when he’s fallen for you, uh… So, basically, Jason would rather die than admit it, but he thinks of himself as your protector, your knight in shining leather armour. And along with that previously mentioned possessiveness, he totally lets it get out of hand. He’s aware you probably don’t want him slaughtering everyone who has ever harmed a single hair on your head, but unless you specifically tell him not to, he’s not going to stop. But if you do, he will. He’s loyal, he’s fervent in that loyalty. He wants to destroy anything that could ever hurt you. But he’d never go against your ruling, your will. He might complain about it, though. Loudly, very loudly. However, if you do want everyone who has ever annoyed you dead, he’s totally up for it no questions asked. Would probably consider it a date night of sorts.

S = Stigma (Can the Roots of Their Obsession Be Traced to a Dark Past, a Blend of Childhood Trauma, Twisted Curiosity, and a Skewed Perception of Love?):

Dick: Oh boy, this guy… He’s the poster child for childhood trauma affecting your perception of love. When his parents were murdered, he latched onto Bruce. And when Bruce kicked him out, he latched onto Bludhaven. And now when even Bludhaven can’t bring him any semblance of comfort, of home, you’re fucking heaven-sent. He latches onto you like a benign growth, and god help anyone who tries to tear the two of you apart.

Jason: Oh boy times two. Not the best childhood, raised on the streets. Taken in by Bruce, things are looking better and then- Well, we all know what happens then. After the trauma of literally digging himself out of his own grave, he feels a bit… disconnected from the world? He feels like a ghost, like he’s still dead, like his death never even mattered and the world kept going after he’d been gone. And that’d fuck up anybody, but someone personally trained by the Batman? Woof. We see in Under The Red Hood that Jason really does think vengeance is proof of love, at least in his case. To him, love is bloody and ruthless. It’s cannibalistic. A give and take. But since he doesn’t want to take from you, he’ll just give himself over wholly.

X = Xoanon (Does Their Reverence for Their Darling Border on Worship, Reaching Extreme Lengths to Prove Their Devotion and Ensure Unwavering Loyalty?):

Dick: He sees you like the sun. Powerful, brilliant, beautiful. And you’ll probably burn him to cinders as he loves you, but he doesn’t care. He probably enjoys the idea a little. Wouldn’t it be nice, to die in your arms? To close his eyes and disappear into you, where he’d never be apart from you again? He realises that sort of thinking is a bit creepy, but it’s one of the few things he simply can’t fight against. Not even the littlest bit. He’s self-aware to know he’s putting you on a pedestal, that you’re not some god or something, you’re just like him. Human. Maybe that makes him worship you even more. He can’t tell, it’s too blurry these days. He just knows you’re important, more so than he is. More so than anything is, really. Also, gotta mention body worship kink. Like, he’s really way too into it honestly. He’ll service you for however long you can last, and then place a hundred kisses against your exhausted body telling you how good you did, how perfect you are. When you look at him after a session like that, you can always see something a little too intense, too crazed to be called love. He knows he’s trying to hide it. He’ll do better next time, okay?

Jason: You’re his master. The hand around the leash. He’s angry at the world, so fucking angry. He wants to destroy it all. Assuming here, you probably don’t want the entire world blown to smithereens, so you’re his… conscience. Whatever you say goes. If you say Joker dies today, then he dies. If you say he can never kill another soul, then he won’t. He’s sassy about all of it, but it’s painfully obvious to literally everyone that he will follow every single order you give. And of course, he wants it that way. Maybe he really should get a collar for himself. He thinks it’d be cute, with your name on it in brilliant gold letters. He certainly thinks that the reaction his goons would give would be worth the effort, never mind your own reaction. Call him your good boy and you will get railed so hard you break the bed, lmfao

L = Love Letters (Is Courting an Intricate Dance Marked by Obsessive Letters and Gestures That Blur the Line Between Devotion and Insanity?):

Dick: I can’t see Dick ever actually sending you the letters he writes, but my god, he writes them. At first, it’s just little doodles in the corners of his very important paperwork, and then he’s scribbling on sticky notes, and eventually, he just gives in and buys a fucking notebook. They’re long winded and silly and he’d absolutely rather die than share them with you. But they make it just the slightest bit easier to choke down his devotion to you, so it doesn’t strangle him right then and there. He almost finds it as addicting as you are, almost being the keyword here. It’s genuinely pretty embarrassing, from an outsider’s standpoint. It’s like what a middle schooler would write in their diary, just lots of your name and hearts and very ridiculous poetry. He’d be good at it if it wasn’t about you, okay?

Jason: Jason, in direct contrast to Dick, writes very good poetry. Especially when it’s about you. It’s the sort of stuff they’ll put in museums, that future historians will write about. Of course they won’t know half of his more demented metaphors are just… straight up things he’s done for you. It’s flowing and beautiful and it’d make you tear up if you ever read it. You probably won’t just because Jason doesn’t really care if you read it, so he won’t share it with you on purpose. However if you find him one day in the library, and you ask to see whatever it is he’s made, you’ll be so very, very lucky. And Jason will turn tomato red, so that’s another plus.

Tim: Everybody knows that when Tim starts a list again, his mental health is on the decline. The list about you is concerningly long. And I’m really not saying that lightly, for Mr ‘I stalk literally everyone at least a little bit’. It’s something at four hundred thousand words by now, he’s not sure exactly. The little note app on his phone has had to suffer through hundreds or even thousands of hours of Tim writing down the most minute details of you and your life. How do you like to sit best? Is your posture okay, or should he worry about it? When you’re hungry, what food do you go for first? What about when you’re sick? If he’s ever around, tapping away on his phone, and you think he’s not paying you any attention, you’d be very, very wrong. Would probably share it with you just to laugh at your horrified face.

Damian: Damian was raised to perfect every form of art, from martial to dance, to even the more traditional ones. He’s always had a fondness for painting, and you’re most certainly his muse. Instead of letters, he paints you. For every memory he has of you, he has at least a sketch. He doesn’t care for almost all of them, as he doesn’t think they capture your beauty properly, so he doesn’t really care what happens with said drawings. Your first meeting has been drawn at least twenty times, and your sleeping face probably double that. Yes, he does draw you in more passionate poses as well. Your face all fucked out, drool leaking from your lips, is a personal favourite of his. He’ll probably share those ones with you, enjoying seeing you squirm. Asking if you want to help him find some extra inspiration because he’s all irritatingly smooth like that. Will laugh if you crush the lewd drawing up, agreeing it doesn’t do you justice. He’ll just have to try again.

[crsssie]

and baby, if you knew

word count: 2.1k || pt2 of saying we're just friends

warnings: mentions of the night before (?), morning after, hickies (?)

summary: oh the horrors of getting caught the morning after

You stare at yourself in the mirror, blinking incredulously. (Partially out of pure shock, partially because sleeping with your contacts on was NOT a smart decision on your end)

Holy fuck, Tim got mouthy with you.

You tilt your neck to brush your fingers over the hickeys, gawking at the way it trails down your neck and collar to your chest, the purple popping on your skin. Sure, you weren't half as pale as Tim was, but hello? You didn't even bring concealer. You weren't expecting him to take you to the Wayne Manor. 

"Tim." You swallow, grimacing.

Tim raises a brow, shirt pulled halfway over his head.

"How many hickeys did you give me? Do you have a whisk? Do you have ice? Are you secretly a vampire???"

"One question at a time, lovely." he mumbles. "Seven. There's a whisk and ice downstairs. I am not secretly a vampire, although I can see why you'd guess that."

You blink at him. "Do you have a collared shirt?"

"Just settle for one of my shirts for now." He pulls the shirt over his head, tossing you the other one in the bed. 

"Please tell me it's not sheer."

"It's not."

"Thank GOD you're rich." You mumble. "It's a blessing to have non-sheer white shirts."

"Yeah, I get that." He mumbles. "Come on. Alfred called us for breakfast a little ago."

"Which one of your siblings are here?"

"We'll see." Tim hums, shutting the door to his room. (All of them are downstairs, likely. They were probably having a post-valentine debriefing like they usually do. Bruce was not spared from it.)

You duck behind Tim when you notice everyone having breakfast.

"You said we'll see! Are none of them staying with the people they were out with last night?!"

"It happens every year." Tim hums, holding his hand out for you. "Come on. Don't do the walk of shame."

"Seriously. I run a stan account for you and live in my dorm. I'm practically a hermit." You deadpan. "I am NOT cut out to be meeting your family this early in the morning."

"Master Tim, young miss. Are you ready for breakfast? We are having pancakes."

"Just kidding I would kill for pancakes right now." You mumble, following behind Tim as he sits you next to him.

All eyes are on you as you adjust the collar of your shirt, the tag scratching against your skin, the hickeys on your neck visible. You thank Alfred as he places a plate before you, and you start at the chocolate chip pancakes. Holy shit, fuck the eyes on you, this was heaven.

"Alfred, do you have a recipe book?" You blink at him, eyes wide in admiration. 

"Which recipe would you like, young miss?"

"Oh, all of them if possible. I'd love to be able to cook half as well as you can." You hum, taking another bite of your food. "Do you have a digital copy?"

"Unfortunately, all of it is on paper or in here." He smiles, tapping his brain. "But I am more than willing to provide you with any recipes you may like."

"Mm!" You shove the last piece of the pancake into your mouth, swallowing as you get up. "Tim, do you have a laptop? I want to type a couple recipes down and transcribe what's on paper—"

"Pull open the drawer to your left." He hums.

You pull it open, blinking at him.

"There's a false bottom in it. One of my spare laptops is in it. The password is a combination of letters." He hums.

"With significance?"

"Yes."

"Oh, then I know an approximation, then." You hum, working your finger into the side as you prop it open, pulling his laptop out. "Is it our birthdays?"

"Wait, how did she–" Dick's cut off when you manage to open it on your first try.

"Alright. I'm gonna go! I'll be with Alfred if you need anything." You smile.

"She just?" Duke blinks incredulously. "Did she just hack open your laptop on her first try? Is she in compsci like you?"

"English." Tim grabs a couple pancakes, cutting off a piece of butter. "Creative writing, technically."

"Oh, is she making her own major?"

"Yes." Tim hums. "I don't actually know how she guessed that it would be our birthdays since I only changed it a little while ago. It'd be easier to open if it was just our birthdays combined. Maybe she was stalking me."

"Or, maybe all the years of running a Robin Twitter account finally paid off." Jason shrugs. "She's quite a big writer on the internet too, you know?"

"Yeah." Tim hums. "She's quite the character. Have you read her works?"

"I have." Damian speaks up. "Her writing resembles poetry, pulling on the strings of your heart and snapping them at moments you least expect."

"You've read her works?!" Tim raises a brow at Damian. "That's surprising."

"She resembles the poets."

"She'd love to hear that come out of your mouth for sure." Tim mumbles. "Anything else I should know?"

"She covered me for change once while I went to buy cup noodles." Cass mumbles.

"I'm mutuals with her on Twitter?" Steph points.

"Okay, that's not the point. Timmy." Dick deadpans. "Did you sleep with her last night?"

"Sex or just plain sleeping? Because we did both—"

"I DIDN'T GET TO GIVE YOU THE SHOVEL TALK!" Dick cries. "Okay, when a man and a—"

"Dick, I'm well over into the ages of a legal adult." Tim sighs. "Besides, I'm like seventy percent sure that you gave me the shovel talk when you first found out I was dating Ari in high school. Also, I got one from my dad and Bruce, so I think I'm good."

"Oh, right." Dick mumbles. "But still."

Steph pauses. "Does she want a whisk?"

"She was asking for one earlier." Tim hums.

"We'll go help." Cass mumbles, getting out of the seat, dragging Steph.

"Okay, Tim. Is she the one who was making you all red and blushy during Christmas?" Dick slides closer to him, throwing an arm around his shoulder.

"Yes." Tim sighs, batting Dick's hand away. "She was."

"How'd you ask her out?"

"Told her if she had nothing to do on Valentine's, then she could stick with me and I could plan a date." Tim reaches for another pancake.

"And she agreed?" Jason snorts. "Wow. She's way out of your league."

"Yeah, but at least I got B's absolutely insane ability to pull." He mumbles. "Pulled way out of my league, for sure."

"If you fumble her I fear the things that will happen to you, Drake." Damian clicks his tongue.

"Do I... know her?"

"Duke," Damian sighs. "You're smarter than this."

"He's messing with you right now." Jason pours himself another cup of coffee. 

"What's your relationship with her." Tim deadpans.

"She used to peer review my poems." He hums. "It didn't click until Damian showed me her information this morning, though."

"You just let them go through my girlfriend's personal information?!" Tim finally looks at Bruce, who only gives him a shrug.

"No harm in knowing a little more about your girlfriend."

"I swear, if you bring her in on the vigilantism—"

"That's not happening. I can promise that." Bruce glances at his almost empty mug. "Does she know?"

"She called me out for being Red Robin last night in the car." Tim sighs. "Besides, it'd be strange if she didn't notice immediately how similar Red Robin and I's voices are."

"She's been running your account for how long... now?" Bruce motions for Jason to pass him the coffee.

"Since middle school, so like..." Tim pauses. "Give or take seven years."

"That's a long time." Dick mumbles. "My longest-running fanpage is only six-ish years." 

"If you count the Gotham Gazette, then I've been running for the longest." Bruce snorts. "Is she the one?"

"I think she is." Tim smiles. "And if she's not..."

"Then I will personally see the end of your life, Drake." Damian grumbles. "I shall have mother adopt her and have her write poetry for me in exchange for a living space and food. She shall be the equivalent of a court poet except to mother and I."

"I honestly think she wouldn't turn that down." Tim grimaces. 

"Is she that desperate?"

"She's joked about sleeping with a millionaire to make some money." Tim grimaces. "Something something desperate situations call for desperate measures."

"She would love it in mother's mansion, then." Damian hums, sipping on his tea. "I shall have her write a poem for your death. It shall be my last mercy."

Tim grimaces. "What if she breaks up with me?"

"Then you're in the fault, obviously." Jason mumbles, looking at his phone. 

"So it's my fault regardless of what happens?"

"Listen, her tweets are unhinged. You can't say you like crazy girls and then get annoyed when you date one and she acts insane." Jason grumbles.

"He's got a point, Timmers." Dick hums. "I hope it works out for the best, regardless of the ending."

"Twenty bucks they are endgame." Damian mumbles.

"Alfred bet ten that Tim would pop the ring."

"Ugh, come on. You know no one out-bets Alfred." Dick groans. "Did he set up the jar?"

"He did. This morning." Duke hums. "I put my bet in too."

"Come on–"

"You can't say shit when you bet on all of our relationships and pretty much came out unscathed in all of them." Jason glares. "Shut it."

Tim rolls his eyes, surrendering himself to the idea that his relationship would get bet on. 

"Tim, can I marry your sisters?" You come out of the kitchen, eyes sparkling.

"We're dating." He sighs. "Pretty bird—"

"EWWWWWWW" A mixture of faked hurls and gags are heard in unison as Tim rolls his eyes. 

"Ignore them. Why do you want my sisters?"

"The hickeys are all," You pull your shirt down too to show your cleavage, the hickeys no longer visible, "gone! Your sisters are really good at this."

"Yeah..." Tim sighs, reaching to pull your shirt back up. "Steph isn't my sister, by the way."

"Oh, yes, I know." You smile. "After all, if she was, it'd be strange that you've dated her before." 

Tim chokes on the air at your statement.

"Besides, she's my mutual." You hum. "I also got Alfred's recipes, by the way." You hum, smile on your face. "I also got his chocolate chip cookie recipe, though I need to figure out what the secret ingredient is."

"A dash of vanilla extract." Tim lowers his voice. "Don't tell the rest of the family."

"Got it." You give him a thumbs up. 

"Do you cook?" Damian speaks up.

"I do! Mainly ethnic foods, since there isn't much of that here in Gotham." You mumble. "Got any good Chinese places?"

"Oh, there's this place on Seventh Ave and Jester." Bruce speaks up. "I used to get dim sum there. It's only open from eight to twelve, and you need to get in via reservation. Feel free to borrow my name whenever. Just make sure to invite me."

"Uncle Dan's, right?" You beam. "I went there a while back with another friend, but I miss like... the dim sum that's messy and chaotic in the morning."

"Oh, then try the one on Lightbeam." Dick pauses. "Ah, what was the other street?"

"Oh, that one's good." Duke agrees. "Sam Woo's Dim Sum and BBQ."

"I've had that too!" You smile. "They're good, just quite a while from the university."

"If you really want something good," Cass speaks up from behind you, "try Jin."

"Jin?"

"It's smaller, but it's family-run, and it's been doing business in Gotham for three generations already." Cass hums. "They're called Jin, but the Chinese character for gold. They're right by Gotham U too. On the corner by Circle K."

"The sketchy looking alley??" You blink.

"Yes, but their dumplings are to die for." She pauses. "And they sell in bulk if you want to boil any in your dorm."

"Tim, I want your sister."

"Pretty bird, we just started going out." He clicks his tongue. 

"Tim, if you break her heart, I will date her." Cass blinks.

"You can visit her when she stays in mother's mansion."

"Hm?" You turn to blink at Damian.

"Ignore him—"

"Should you and Drake break up, I have already arranged your living arrangements, should you agree to it."

"And what might they be?" You hand the laptop to Tim, pointing at the document you shared with yourself.

"With my mother. Your only job shall be to write poems and short stories to entertain her."

"Living and writing for the Talia Al Ghul? Count me in." You sigh dreamily. 

"Alright." Tim shuts the laptop after changing the password. "We're going to get going before her roommate calls the cops on her."

"Oh, right!" You mumble. "It was a pleasure meeting you all! I hope to see you again sometime?"

"Tim, send her number in the chat later!" Dick calls as Tim pulls you out.

"Sorry, they're quite embarrassing." Tim mumbles.

"They're warm." You smile. "I like it."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." 

Tim sighs in relief at the look of fondness on your face. Right.

You'll be fine.

[moregraceful]

Anyway for my last post of the night before I go to bed and attempt bore and/or etc myself to sleep, I want to say I shelved Mx. Tanger until I am motivated to finish her which is admittedly setting a very dangerous precedent given I also shelved the Connor Bedard Reclamation Project until I know what to do with him. But ALSO bc I have these two fantastic pieces that I have more of an idea of what to do with:

Pickles 1300 games poster and some deeply stupid art I picked up at Ikea for $2 in the as-is section!! Pickles is getting the Bryce Harper treatment, we are going sparkles and I think sea creatures...I have been wanting to try some paper crafts due to the somewhat explosive blue card stock situation and I think the frame shop person, who approval I crave, would be delighted. The $2 as-is art I am CONTEMPLATING a 22-23 Cuda collage but I also fear that may harm me greatly in the process or at least in the offseason, so I am not sure.

My problem is, the Pickles 1300 game poster would go hard af with some of the really precision papercrafts, but I have trying to hold off on buying a Cricut bc if I had a Cricut I think I would never leave the house again and absolutely no one would ever hear from me ever again either. Like I would just disappear and you would find me two months later dead, half-eaten by my dog, and surrounded by paper crafts.

[lookatourstrangecat]

What apples do to Sar, strawberries do to the new guy. Or well I would say that had the guy reacted normally and hissed at it…instead he just scrambled away and maybe knocked down a important vase.

I am still hiding under a bed from Cesar’s wrath. Also turns out the alternate can read and write though shitily so I’m going to be correcting many spelling mistakes.

—Jonah

What the fuck is this site? Is that what it’s called?

—Adam

IT HAS A NAME LETS GO BITCHES! I HAVE FOUND OUT THE NAME!

—Jonah

—————Adam Murray is open for asks—————

[mushroompollution]

The Past

With Lottie and Doug guiding the way, the group is able to navigate the halls of the Baskerville estate much more easily. Together, they all race outside, where they find two simultaneous battles.

Glen trades blows with the Cheshire Cat, his sword against the Cat's powerful claws.

Behind them, unable to see the intruders in this time and space, the Glen of the past fights for his life against Jack and the distorted, agonized form of the Bloody Black Rabbit at his side.

A shout from the group brings one fight to a pause, just in time for all to witness the harrowing scene of Oswald's final moments at Jack's hand.

The distorted form of the B-Rabbit wails in agony at what he's done as Oswald's body is torn apart by his vicious chains.

But where is Alice?

Inside his soul, Leo cries.

None of this had been what he expected when he had stepped down and handed control to Oswald. He had trusted the previous Glen to fix things. Oswald had seemed so certain back then, chastising Leo and taking over like he had known exactly what to do.

Beside him, Levi howls with laughter. Even as they watch Oswald's body ripped to pieces. Even as they watch Jack throw his arms out, spinning gleefully in the blood red rain of his own best friend. Even as they see the distorted and corrupted form of the B-Rabbit crying in agony.

"what the hell... do you find so funny about this?!" Leo can't take it anymore. "how can you laugh like that?!"

"Because I'm having fun, isn't it obvious?" Levi answers with a grin. "Anything will do, as long as it distracts me from my boredom. And these two are a hoot AND a holler!!"

Levi's merriment makes him feel sick. Leo clenches a fist.

"are you kidding me?!" Leo shouts. "you're the one who created the Will of the Abyss! you're responsible for all of this in the first place!!"

Levi drops down to squat in front of him and yanks Leo toward himself by the front of his shirt. "Do you really think you have any room to talk about responsibility?" his voice is a sinister growl, but that smile is what sends a chill down Leo's spine. "You only took on the role of Glen out of desperation, and you handed control right over to Oswald when your idealistic little peace plan didn't work out. Now and then, you've put up a fight, but you haven't really asserted yourself."

Leo tugs away from him with a gasp. "he said-- i can't stand again--"

Levi tilts his head to the side. "And you just accepted that without question, didn't you?" he hums. "You're a lot like him, you know."

The younger Glen shrinks back, frowning at the comparison.

"Don't you think it's time you make up your mind about what it is you really want?" Levi asks, resting his chin on his hand, elbow propped on his knee. He watches Leo with amusement. And Leo stares back at him, starry eyes searching Levi's face for some clue. Any tiny hint at what he should do. What he could possibly do?

Suddenly, Leo swings that fist he's been holding, knuckles connecting hard with his own cheek. A look of dumbfounded surprise finally wipes the smile off Levi's face. Had the kid lost it?

"shut. up."

Again and again, Leo throws his fist at himself, until blood joins the tears staining his face.

"what the hell do you think you're doing?!" Leo shouts at himself. "the world is in danger and you're just gonna sit there and sulk?! because some guy said you don't know what you're doing?! guess what, dumbass!!! no one knows what they're doing!!!! that guy is obviously phoning it in too, and his plan fucking sucks!!! you nearly killed a guy for touching your hair, but NOW you want to act timid?!! don't make me laugh!!!!"

If Elliot isn't there to give him one of those signature rants, then fine. He'll just have to do it himself.

"you told him to knock your lights out after this, but if he could see you now, you'd be lucky to escape with your life!!!!"

As if he'd been summoned, Elliot's loud, brash voice reaches Leo deep inside his soul, calling his name. Vincent's voice joins his little brother, calling for his Master.

Levi and Leo both look forward, towards the scene out there.

Glen and the Cat trade blows as the group of others race toward them. Cheshire leaps aside as Oz swings his scythe.

Another voice calls out from the group behind them as Lottie pleads with her own master Glen to stop.

If even Vincent had decided to live, if even Glen's own followers could defy him, then Leo knows. He can't allow this world to disappear.

"i don't care if this Story is hated by some," Leo says as he watches. "i don't care if there could be a less tragic past. this world, this present, and whatever future we have left are all precious to me."

He slams his palm down into that shallow, black water and suddenly shoves himself to his feet. He narrows his eyes at Oswald and declares,

"i will not allow you to change the past!!"

[wetsnifflesneeze]

NOT SNZ

trying so hard to be kind to myself. it’s actually my New Year’s resolution 🫢. it wasn’t planned that way i just realised around new years that i had to do better. as in i have to be patient with myself and loving and understanding. it’s hard to be okay with just surviving some days and not feel like I should have been better. it’s hard to not compare myself to others. it’s really hard to stop thinking about what other people might think of me.

i think I love to focus on the negative after something doesn’t go perfectly but it’s certainly not going to fix me or make things better. there are positives too. i am trying to distance myself from anyone who makes me question and doubt myself. this makes me feel guilty sometimes, incredibly guilty. but i need to give myself that space. i want to nurture my relationships but only the ones that don’t make me feel bad. i want to think about how i feel and write it down. i will write it down to get it off my chest. i want to try therapy again to understand my feelings more and more importantly how to cope with them in a healthy way.

[charles-simmons-fanfiction]

Late summer nights - Todd Anderson / Neil Perry

Description: Neil is a summer person, and Todd is a Neil person. That's the story. 💛 [fluff, 800 words]

By the way, this is based off of this post! It's a headcanon by the super cool and awesome @perksofbeingpoet <3 This was so fun to write, I might write more summer fics with dps <- me projecting how energetic I get during summer on them

Todd could swear he would pass out from the heat any second now. Neil, on the other hand, hadn't been this energetic it's been weeks.

"Physics homework, done!" Neil exclaimed victoriously, closing his notebook and throwing it on his desk.

"Already? How?" Todd had just finished the first half of his work, and he hadn't even started the one for chemistry. Soon summer break would start and the teachers weren't taking it easy on them, not that they ever did.

"It looks like it'll rain tomorrow, explains why today's so hot," Neil ignored his question. The window was wide open and he had half his body out of it, only a small push away from falling. "We should go outside! While we still can, y'know."

"What? No, I still have way too much work to do," the physics assignment in front of him was pushed aside before he could protest.

"I'll give you the answers and explain them to you tomorrow. C'mon!" Neil grabbed him by the arm. Todd wanted to insist, but he wanted to go with him a lot better.

They had to be silent while they sneaked out, so, naturally, they couldn't stop laughing. It was quite a struggle and they had to be constantly shushing the other.

Once they got outside, the hot wind blew on their faces. Todd considered going back in again.

Neil smiled and, without any warning, took off running to the woods, laughing way too loudly as Todd tried to catch up with him. They didn't stop running for a while, to not risk getting caught.

"Oh my god, shut up!" Todd covered Neil's mouth with his hands, pushing him against a tree to keep him quiet. "Are you crazy?? There's no way no one heard us!" Despite his heart beating quickly from the adrenaline, he could only laugh with him.

"Carpe Diem, my dear," Neil's voice came out muffled and he gently took Todd's hand off his mouth. "We'll be fine."

For a few seconds, neither of them said anything, looking into each other's eyes, close enough to feel their hot breath on their already warm cheeks. A light breeze wiggled the trees and everything felt silent, except for the crickets probably not too far away.

Neil's deep brown eyes seemed to shrink when he smiled, almost sparkling as he looked at him so contently. His pink lips were slightly parted and a strand of hair had fallen on his face. He had an image of graceful disarray, and the night suddenly didn't feel as half as warm as his presence did.

"Your hair is getting long," was all that Todd managed to say.

Neil was caught slightly off guard and chuckled. "Yeah, I have to get a haircut soon."

"Please don't," Todd asked, maybe a little too fast. "It looks great like this."

"Thanks," they broke eye contact awkwardly, not knowing how to continue a conversation, and also not really wanting to.

It was way too hot. Todd couldn't understand how anyone could even like summer. He had always hated the way his hand felt sweaty, and how hard it was to fall asleep even with the window open. Also, any class outside was insufferable if there was sun.

At the same time, Neil seemed to be doing so well. And let the truth be said, it only took a little attention to see how depressed he could get some days. But not recently. No, Neil seemed to be genuinely doing fine.

Todd smiled at the thought, and for the first time, he hoped summer would last as long as possible. "Next weekend, if we finish our homework, we should go get ice cream. To make the heat more bearable," he shyly suggested, mentally repeating "carpe diem" to himself.

"I was thinking about that! I'm sure the other's would be super down for i-"

"Wait, no," Todd stopped him. "I meant like, you and me."

"Oh," Neil was taken aback, but nodded slowly, a smile creeping on his face. His tone was soft when he spoke. "Yes, I think we should."

The two went silent again, and Todd did his best not to smile like an idiot. The next hour wasn't anything but mundane chatting and walking around, but they wouldn't rather be anywhere else.

At some point, Neil tried to take his hand as they walked, but Todd pulled it back. "It's way too hot for this," he complained, yet eventually gave in and took Neil's hand back. Neither of them mentioned it.

"I love summer," Neil stated matter-of-factly. "It's easily the best season. To me, at least. What's your favorite?"

"You"

"What?"

"Autumn"

Again, neither of them mentioned it. Although Todd briefly considered hitting his head against a tree and just staying there forever.

That night, Neil fell asleep as soon as he got back to his dorm, without even changing. Todd didn't, it was too hot. He sighed, and looked at his roommate, who was smiling in his sleep.

"He's crazy," Todd thought, still not getting why anyone would like summer, but suddenly not feeling so bad about it. He fell asleep with a soft smile too. At least they'd get ice cream.

💛.

[keeps-ache]

i think i'm starting to really like writing again :D this will have consequences

[jasperyourmutt]

Thank fucking god for doctors who give a shit about your health. I just met my new doctor who is going to be prescribing my T and I feel so relieved to have someone who actually CARES

[rui-drawsbox]

halo halo this might be out of blue but may i ask how’d you fall in love w Baxter? I wanna hear the story of like how you started to like him if you don’t mind sharing . tysm!!and i love all your artworks!!!!

AGHHHHHHH i was about to go to sleep but healty schedules are overrated. Take a sit cuz this is gonna be LONG bc i dont know how to get to the point (jump right to the end to get the 3 lines resume lmao)

if you ask me why i like right now: he's a dramatic loser. But that was when i finally understood his character! you wouldn't be surprised if tell you that i'm an idiot right? i'm super slow to read between lines and understand people, that applies to fictional characters too lmao (+add that english isn't my first language) So! at first i didn't actually understood what was going on with -well- anything :D.

Took me a few playthroughs to actually understand the game in general, i started to play before step 4 was out so all i could do was play and replay different ways to fall in love with Cove (starting to crush at step3 was my fav) but tbh he was never my *type*, Derek was interesting but just bc he like us by default. Even after playing his dlc i felt like he was just a really good friend (which was kinda weird bc to this point i've just played his romantic route). So, what's different with Baxter?

To begin with! he's... he's....... huhh my first impression wasn't actually strong tbh, i was like "huh new guy to date yay". I didn't actually understood his character the first few playthroughs ngl. I started in fond ofc to get into the dlc but *I* was pretty indifferent, probably in Drinks where we finally see Morning Baxter was that i said "oh shit he's cute" and cuteness+gapmoe is enough to make me fall for any character tbh.

But! that was not enough to provoke a brainrot like this right? i'm the "Oh i love this *forgets about in a week*" type. What sealed the deal (badum tss) was probably bc of the fandom? Once i was done replaying the dlc 5 times in a row i went straight to tumblr to feed of headcanons, fanarts and fanfics. My favorite way to understand a character is thru the fandom tbh, my favs are the long aa essays talking about a character personality.

Long story short, he was dramatic troubled flirty gap-moe guy (my fictional type, coincidentally) with an excellent storyline. I still wasn't 100% into him but he was top1 romatic choice for me (sorry Cove and Derek, love ya but platonically), so i made 2 fanarts for his dlc in may and let the hype die... only for 6 months otherwise we wouldn't be here, would we?

AH-HA-HEM the day 28th of november, beginnings of summer, i went out in the morning to do some errands with my mom, we stopped to buy vegetables in our way home and she bought a small watermelon bc i love them. That same afternoon i was eating it and thought "watermelons are finally here, summer it's officially here!" and got struck with Olba memories like a sleeper agent. (made a minicomic abt that, that's why i have the exact date lol) SO i replayed the game again, reading everything again, and oh boy i finally understood so many things, one of those things was Baxter himself!

A lot of stuff made sense once i actually took the time to comprehend his character with the information i gained out of the game (mainly all the asks ppl sent to gb). Add the way that i always played like *me* on my first playthroughs of anything and then you'll notice why he hit me so hard, it felt like i wasn't giving him enough credit before dasjkfas.

Tbh his dlc is my fav bc it has such a strong storyline, you get to know him and his insecurities thru all step 3, and have a lot of sweet moments too! (and that night goodbye?? omg it hits me so hard bc it's right after the ending song) and because step 4 it's right after you go with all the fresh memories of your summer together and seeing him so cold towards you it's so painful but also so funny because HA I CAN SEE THRU YOUR FACADE YOU STILL LIKE ME HAHAHA and i finally knew the perfect word for him: loser.

Anyways i also did a deep dive in the Olba and Baxter Ward tag here in tumblr and eat pretty much everything, also helped me to get a better grasp for all the little details i didn't noticed before bc haha i told you im an idiot?

sO yeah i made a few drawings of my Mc interacting with the characters, surprisingly it got a lot of attention from the fandom so i made a few more and when i noticed i was deep into the brainrot and i wasn't able to draw anything besides my Ruri and Baxter being cute lmao

Funfact. Ruri is a variation of Rui (duh) that i used in games when i didn't feel like i wanted to be called my name directly, now that she expropriated me of that name i use Ruru, i'm so creative right?

Long story short: it was mix of the game itself, fandom content and people actually liking my oc content. The fandom is super welcoming with everyone's oc's i love that akjdlfhask

ajksdfhasjk WOAH THAT IS SO LONG i def went over the top didnt i? I tried to explain my train of thought and fill the spaces where my memory is blurry with stuff i think i would've thought at the moment, it's also 3am so im- not entirely here tbh hjadfhkj

ANYWAYS THANKYOU ANON FOR LETTING ME RAMBLE I LOVE TALKING TO NO ONE IN SPECIFIC ABOUT THE THINGS I LOVE LOVE YAA<333

[moyazaika]

[skitskatdacat63]

And here is the bull himself >:)

+ lore notes

I was like, ah I should make the shadow something interesting, and then I'm like GIVE HIM BULL HORNS???? OKAY SURE !!!!! I'm glad such thoughts can strike at 7 in the morning....thanks brain. But hehehe I'm glad bcs now this matches up super well with the Nando one!

New ship dynamic: who's the bull and who's the matador :)

I think, in this AU, Fernando is generally pretty fond of Seb when he first meets him. Like "ah yes my very own protégé, very nice, I shall mold him in my image." But then Seb starts veering off that course. Bullfighting is all about being dramatic, but Seb maybe has a bit too much(🤏) flair for the dramatic. This escalation starts while he's still Fernando's assistant but he keeps it generally at bay. But god when he becomes a matador himself, he's just off the rails insane.

Bullfighting, to me, is a sport about reckless endangerment of one's self in the pursuit of drama and performance(its literally described as a tragedy in three acts.) But Fernando thinks Seb endangers himself *too* much, not because he cares or anything, but he's making a mockery of the sport!! Especially when Seb starts doing that bull hand symbol(seen above), Fernando just keeps become more enraged with him, not anything to do with the fact that Seb is threatening his records and threatening his own wellbeing, nah of course not.

Seb's gesture is making a mockery of the sport, he's disrespecting the culture, the very nature of it, blah blah blah. Jenson once asks Fernando, after noticing him seething while watching Seb do his gesture, "Which bull are you really trying to defeat?" One could also describe Fernando and Seb's relationship as a "tragedy with three acts."

Anyways Fernando gets very tied up with this rivalry. Even after suffering a severe injury(I have yet to decide, but y'know mchonda electrocution core), he quickly returns to the sport, loath to let Seb get any more headway. And then Seb gets injured, poor little sweet Seb, and neither of them can handle it. Though I already covered this in my prev lore post 🤭 and I think I put it pretty viscerally there so!! I digress.

They're both matadors, but the bull itself is not the only bull Fernando wants to conquer. Conquer as in death? Hm.

[thegeminisage]

perpetual chicken and egg question are you not writing fanfiction because you're depressed or are you depressed because you're not writing fanfiction. write fanfiction and find out today

[ahecen]

gonna rant in the tags

[sailorgallifrey]

happy one year of me watching doctor who :33