#which honestly made her scarier somehow

[thepringlesofblood]

in honor of FHJY, I recreated That Photo in heroforge.

they don't have martini glass in heroforge :/ i was going to do the chalice but it's too high fantasy, so he has some sort of brown liquid instead [whiskey? scotch? i'm sorry i don't drink] instead of a martini. I tried to do kalina's hand as if it was holding a martini glass though.

I also realized like 90% of the way through the extremely detailed and difficult advance posing process that brennan specifies that kalina is "a little taller than pok, probably 4 to 4 1/2 feet tall" and heroforge has like. specific height measurements that are supposed to correspond to real life heights. and my kalina is way way too big. but resizing her would erase like a solid hour of work so maybe another time. she's still "a little taller than pok", probably just a little more tall than she would've been.

I was torn b/w the furry animal torso and smooth animal torso, but since Kalina is specifically described as looking like a domestic housecat, I feel like the furry one is too shaggy and unkempt. I wish her claws were more subtle but thems the breaks.

it doesn't specify whether kalina's arm is also around pok, but doing other poses just looked weird. if kalina was the right size it would be around his waist not his shoulder but again, thems the breaks.

someday, if heroforge finally adds a suit jacket that is fully buttoned up, i will put it on pok. they have open suit jacket and one button buttoned suit jacket, but none where both buttons are buttoned. this is my purgatory.

they also don't have any like. 'satin' cloth pre-made color. i'm actually pretty proud of how her dress turned out.

here's one of pok alone [as most people see the photo]

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 4 - Nightmares Too

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

“You wanna get out from under there?”

What sort of question is that? Of course, you don’t. You’re going to live here now. You’re never leaving this tiny, cramped space till you rot away and die. The stained underside of some IKEA desk was your new home.

Well, since your actual home was seeming less and less like an option. Which kinda sucks, because you’re feeling surprisingly possessive of your stuff. You don’t want fancy dresses or bubbly champagne, you want your ratty couch and the neighbour’s cat that liked to visit in the middle of the night. Your mother was right, you were the type of person to never be happy no matter what. You could appreciate the food, though.

Shaking, trembling, knees clutched to your chest, you look up. Slowly, because you’ll probably piss yourself if you don’t.

Now that you weren’t holding his hand, the vigilante known as Red Hood was much, much scarier. He was sitting on the carpeted floor with you, but he still somehow looked incredibly menacing. You preferred his old look, honestly. The helmet had less ‘grim reaper’ vibes. The hood and metal face mask made him seem like a cyborg assassin, or something equally terrifying. He was terrifying.

Still, you could appreciate the insane sort of hilarity of this situation. The notorious crime fighter and crime committer was sitting here with you, crossed legs, twiddling his thumbs away. You press your face into your hands, laugh, and then scream. The sound is muffled, but he probably still hears the exciting new phase of your breakdown.

“Don’t…” your voice cuts off, you have to think before you can manage to speak again, “Don’t you have something better to be doing?”

His giant shoulders shrug.

“I’ve got time.”

Did he? You don’t know how long you’d been up here, how long you’d been sitting here either. You’d fallen asleep, despite your desperate fight not to, so it could be anywhere between 10 to the next day. Had you missed midnight? God, you hoped not.

That stupid little ritual is what convinces you to leave. Not common sense, not the Hood, not your desperate desire to get home and sleep. No, it’s the image of your mother’s tired smile, the city in the background as you wish her another happy birthday after a long day of work. It’s a memory you’re not willing to give up, even if you technically already made your wish.

You’d lived this awful day twice. You got to blow out your candles twice, too.

Slowly, surely, you climb out from under the desk. Red Hood is quiet, careful. He doesn’t move apart from a subtle shift in his hood, suggesting he’s watching you. He’s acting like you’re a wild animal or something, like he might scare you off, or might prompt you to attack.

If he tries anything, you will. It doesn’t matter that he could snap your neck like a twig. Maybe he’s right to act that way, you’re feeling pretty feral right now. Half giving him your back, you turn the monitor for the computer on. It’s Wayne property, so you think you technically have some right to it. It’s not like you’re going to hack it or anything, you just need it to-

11:48.

“Thank god,” you sigh, relieved. Still, you’re not out of the woods yet. You needed at least a lighter, hopefully, a candle and a desert of some kind too. There were lots of cakes downstairs, if you felt you could do it. Big ‘if’ there. The mental breakdown was still well underway. And not everyone could dodge a punch like Red Hood could. Knowing you, you’d probably get sued for millions if you accidentally snapped at some poor rando.

Let’s start small. You wrench open the office’s drawer and start rooting around. You find lots of things, a Wayne Enterprises-themed stress toy, a kid’s drawing of them and their parent holding hands, and a surprising amount of hand cream, but no lighter. You slam the drawer closed and move to the next one.

“Hey, what are you doing?” his voice rumbles out, and your head snaps around.

You look down. Right. This is probably illegal. You were rooting through someone else’s private property. Of course, it wasn’t the first time you’d done something like this, but it was definitely the first time you’d done it in plain view of a vigilante.

Crap. You hadn’t thought. That was your entire night, summarised.

“Uh, this is… Do you have a lighter?” you ask, wincing. You don’t really like the mask he’s wearing. Apart from being so intimidating, you’re shaking like a wet chihuahua, it’s also impossible to tell what he’s thinking through it. The domino mask, the metal face mask and the voice changer completely hid any emotion. Full coverage and all.

The helmet probably would’ve made that even harder. You’d still prefer it. This guy's creepy.

“You smoke?” he responds, slowly but surely getting to his feet. You back up quickly, pressing yourself to the wall of the cubicle. Red Hood pauses and then moves even slower. He’s careful not to frighten you any more than already.

This was all really strange. One of the strangest things that had ever happened to you. And you might’ve woken up this morning in an alternate dimension. Or something, you had zero clue what was going on. God, you really wished you’d paid more attention in science class. You’d thought Mr Gregory was crazy, but he’d gotten the last laugh.

“I don’t,” you clench your sweaty fists tight, “Maybe I should.”

“Don’t get started, it’s impossible to stop,” Red Hood says, digging into his pocket for something. You freeze, but relax again when he hands you a scuffed metal lighter.

Holding it close to your chest, you whisper a thank you to him. He nods his head in acknowledgement.

This was really weird. You couldn’t say it enough.

“I hate you,” you state because you sort of have to. Even when he’s being nice to you, helping you. It’s an obligation. You have to make sure that despite the show of good faith he was offering, you were certainly feeling no such thing.

“I figured,” he replies, which like- What the fuck? Does this make absolutely zero sense to anybody else? You’re not sure what about your panic-stricken tears and desperate hand-holding made you seem hateful, but you could work with it.

Maybe all the feelings you push down are starting to show. You ignore how worried that makes you because you’ve had enough for today. Today was more than e-fucking-nough.

You were going to find a cake and a candle, and you were going to make your wish. Again, because life sucks. You were going to finish this horrible day again because life sucks. And hopefully, you’d wake up tomorrow… tomorrow, not today.

You weren’t sure if you would. Life sucks, right?

You look the Red Hood in his creepy glowing red eyes and say, “I think I’m losing my fucking mind.”

“That’s not good.”

“No, I don’t think it is.”

There’s quiet between you two for a moment. You think he’s staring at you, trying to figure you out. He knows you hate him, but you’re… well, you’re too tired to be angry right now. You just want to go to sleep. You just want this damn day to end. Tomorrow you’d go back to hating all the vigilantes of Gotham with a fiery passion, but today…

Well, you wouldn’t call it peaceful, whatever this situation is. Maybe it’s understanding. He seems understanding, for some reason. You don’t really want to think about that.

You just wanted to hate him. It was easier that way. Then you didn’t have to hate yourself so much.

“I’m going to go find some cake and a candle. It’s my birthday and I haven’t made a wish.”

Red Hood nods, “I could eat.”

That wasn’t an invitation, but whatever. Guess you’re blowing out your candles for your twenty-first with… this guy. Better than yesterday, which was with nobody but yourself and your trashy TV. Or, well, the first today.

You really think you are losing your mind. Whatever, whatever, let’s worry about it later.

After one of the most awkward and uncomfortable elevator rides of your life, squished into a corner as Red Hood took up the lion’s share of space, you find yourself back on the first floor. It’s chaos. The gorgeously decorated gala is now in rubble, and people are rushing around with the sort of fear you’d expect after the fucking Joker showed up.

He wasn’t here, which was good. It was important to focus on the good.

First responders flit around the space, checking the people who seem worse for wear and the rich bastards who think they’re more important than the service workers who are cut or bruised. All the food tables have been knocked over, the waste of it making you upset. Of course the Joker wastes food, he’s gotta be the evilest man on earth or something. It’s not just the interior that’s been destroyed, either. The giant gothic windows have been shattered inward, and broken glass covers the entire floor space. Red and blue lights flash through the gaping holes, bits of glass still attached to the stone sending it cascading across the walls.

You look down. You’re missing your shoes.

“You can’t walk on that,” Big Red says, which like, duh.

“I know that,” you mutter, looking around for another way. Ah, good, there’s a staff entrance over there, which you think probably leads to the kitchen-

“I could carry you.”

You give him a disturbed look and he shrugs. Pointing to the ‘staff only’ door, you wish you had the strength to tell the guy to fuck off. He feels like a babysitter or something.

“I’m going in there.” ‘Please don’t follow me.’

He follows you, because of course, he does.

Lucky for you, the staff entrance leads straight to the kitchen. Even luckier, there’s absolutely nobody here to witness you lose your mind. There are also lots of dishes waiting to be served, already plated and perfect. This is a professional kitchen, but it was your birthday so you have to assume they’d have had candles or a cake prepared.

You walk through the giant kitchen, and Red Hood hangs back. He leans against the doorway, crossing his tree-tunk-esque arms and glowering. Nowhere can do a scary hero like Gotham can. He was really messing with your vibe, which wasn’t all that great in the first place.

Your eyes rove over the platters, head snapping back when you spot a tiny set of confectionaries at the back. Cupcakes, three in total. They don’t match the rest of the other high-quality foods, but you know they’re the ones you want anyway. You hope this didn’t belong to someone else, and promise to pay them back… somehow. You’d write a note or something, leave your number behind.

You were rich now. You’d have preferred the lottery instead of all this. What’s the saying, ‘beggars can’t be choosers?’ You’d certainly been begging.

It’s a struggle to reach the back of the counter without knocking any of the other food. You grab the plate, lift it up and over, and then set it back down on an empty stretch of countertop.

You look over the three cupcakes, trying to pick one. There’s one that’s a dark raspberry pink. A pink that’s a little too dark, actually. Almost… reddish. You glance over your shoulder at the devil lurking behind you, wince, and decide you’re going for the blue cupcake. You think this might’ve also been one of Sam’s favourite colours. It would’ve been at some point, at least.

Now, candles. This might be the hard part, but it’s the most important one. Again you start rooting through some stranger’s property, and Red Hood just watches silently. It’s weird. This whole situation is weird. You’re tired and confused and you’re half convinced you’re dreaming it all, but… but you’re definitely starting to think this might be real.

And that’s fucking scary. So, back to candle hunting. They had to have some, it was your birthday. Maybe, you were pretty sure. Somehow the worst day of the year had happened twice because God knows you had some shit luck. You’d really like some solid answers, instead of just ‘maybe!’. And for some reason, you really didn’t think you’d be getting them anytime soon.

Ah, shoot. You found your candle. It’s one of those giant ‘Happy Birthday’ cake toppers, all loopy and connected words. Your cupcake is way too small, and your candle is way too big. Well, you’re nothing if not resourceful. When you bend the candle, the wax snaps easily under your grip. You’re left with a capital ‘H’ and under that the ‘B’ and little ‘i’ and ‘r’ from the beginning of birthday. Good enough, you suppose.

You stick the crumbly, glittery monstrosity on top of the stolen cupcake, and swipe the lighter again. The letters sag to the side, and you nudge them back into balance.

You glance down at the ovens, reading the bright neon numbers. 11:57.

You wait, flicking the lighter open and closed. The metallic click, the rhythm of the movement, it settles you a bit.

“Why are you waiting?” Red Hood pipes up, breaking that comfortable silence. At least he doesn’t come any closer, still lingering half in the room, half not.

“It has to be midnight,” you answer, wishing him away. This is your thing. You didn’t want anybody here for it, didn’t want anybody else’s presence tainting this piece of your mother’s memory. You were greedy for it, not eager to share.

You were sharing today. There’s a part of you that wants to scream and rant at the man who for some unknown reason simply will not leave, but you imagine your mother’s frowning face, and you can’t do it. She’s the angel on your shoulder (nagging, nagging, nagging) compared to your usual devil-inclined self. She was always insisting you needed to be a better host, be nicer to people. Maybe make more friends. And after she’d gone, you’d tried, you really, really had.

But Red Hood was an altogether different matter. Everything they were, everything they represented, was an altogether different matter.

You were obsessed with the Waynes. And in a different, more bitter, spiteful, malicious way, you were obsessed with the Bats, too.

You weren’t going to be friends with Red Hood. You hated him, despised him. Mum always said you needed to get better at forgiving people. You disagreed, but just… maybe just for today, you wouldn’t make him leave.

You could glare at him, though. You felt that was fair enough. He ignores your narrowed eyes like a seasoned professional. Bet he’s had a lot of people hate him. Bet he deserves it.

“It’s 11:59,” he tells you, and you stop glaring at him to light the candle.

The light is weak, barely able to touch you. Still, it’s strong enough to get rid of those tiny glimpses of red and blue police lights, to keep away the darkness for just long enough. You sigh into the light, absorbing it into yourself. You’d always thought the world was too dark, and you hated winter when you’d lose the sun. So like you had to hate the dark, you had to love this light. This tiny little candle, burning away.

“What’re you gonna wish for?”

You stare at the flickering flame. It twitches back and forth. Casts light into the kitchen. Mesmerises you. It’s barely alive, and you’re about to put it out before it can even start. It could’ve been some great fire, some city-destroying blaze. And you’re going to kill it. Kill it before it can kill you, can kill everyone here. Kill it before it could have ever hoped to live, to thrive.

Just a baby. Just a little, little baby.

It doesn’t deserve it. That never seems to matter. It never mattered before.

“The Joker to die.”

You exhale, blowing the light out and sending the kitchen into darkness. When you manage to find the light switch and turn it on, the room is empty. It’s just you, your cake, and your tears. Your hands clench, and then you realise you’re still holding it.

You still have the Red Hood’s lighter. He left without it.

Well, finder’s keepers, right?

-

You’re shaking in the back of the ambulance, the blanket wrapped around your shoulders not enough to keep out the Gotham night’s chill. You don’t really remember how you got here, to be honest. Everything’s pretty goddamn blurry. You were talking to a vigilante, a red one. Not down here, staring up at the Wayne Tower. You remember his face in the shifting candlelight. Did you blow out your candles with him? That was a fucking crazy thought.

And now the Bruce Wayne has a hand on your shoulder. You don’t remember when he arrived. He’s talking with the paramedic, chatting over the top of your head. There words are going in one ear and out the other, it’s alien for as much as you can understand. You want to shake his hand off, you don’t want anyone touching you right now. Especially not a stranger.

Even if it was a guy you had owned a fan Twitter for. Those were the darkest days of your past. Even more so than the time you’d totally thought about jumping in front of the Gotham subway. You’d only not done it because you’d have felt bad for wasting other commuters' time. What were you doing? Ah, right.

In the end, you don’t shove him off, because you don’t know if you can move other than blink. Even that’s against your will. Your eyelashes are fluttering randomly, eyes flicking around the interior of the ambulance. You’re barely conscious. And you doubt you’ll remember any of this later, either. You can feel the memories slipping away, the drain at the back of your mind sucking up the fear and bad thoughts and leaving you blank and empty. Numb, safe, but numb.

The paramedic’s mouth moves. You don’t think she’s talking to you, which is good. You can’t hear her over the ringing in your ears. She does some final checks, and then she’s off to the next person.

The two of you are left to silence, to watch the rest of the world in its chaos. You feel like there’s a barrier, a pane of glass, between you and the other people here. Like your TV screen, really. The paramedic goes to a woman and her son. The woman seems fine, but the son has a long gash on his arm. She’s screaming, he’s crying, and the paramedic is handling it all with calm professionalism. You wanted to start screaming too.

You glance at a man in a suit yelling at another first responder, spittle flying into the air with his rage. You think he’s one of the ones you saw earlier in the ballroom. His suit is still perfect, and he doesn’t have a speck of blood on him. Even his hair is still perfectly brushed and coiled.

You looked like a drowned rat in comparison.

“…Are you alright?” The question breaks the silence, and you slowly turn to look up at Bruce.

Well, that’s the dumbest question you’ve ever heard. You thought Bruce Wayne was supposed to be brilliant. Maybe he’s just feeling bad because of the new trauma he’s gifted you tonight? It wasn’t his fault. As most of your mental health issues stemmed from, it was the Joker’s fault.

“No,” you answer, and he nods stiffly. Great chat.

He huffs out a sound of frustration, lifting the hand on your shoulder. Immediately, some of the tension in you seeps out. You hope he doesn’t notice. You think he probably does.

Someone calls out your name. Your head turns to the crowd. They call out your name again, this time closer, and you call back. You’re sort of surprised when a crying Jeanine pushes out of the throng of people. She’s a mess, her hair out of her pristine bun, her suit missing its jacket, and her glasses cracked. Seems she didn’t have a very nice time either.

You look down. She’s also missing her shoes. It’d be kind of gross, walking around on Gotham’s streets barefoot, if you could manage to give a shit. You’re still restarting, however, and all energy is going towards not crying again. You’re failing. Awfully bad, at that.

Whatever. Gotta try.

Panting, Jeanine places her hands on her knees, “I’m so, so sorry.”

It takes a moment for you to load the words through your Windows XP brain, but when you do, you’re more confused than you were a second ago.

“What? Why are you sorry?” you say, for a second imagining Jeanine as one of the people that attacked you.

“Because you wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t… hadn’t forced you to come…” Jeanine’s voice trails off, a look of horror on her face. Ah, she’s noticed Bruce. Apparently, she’s quite afraid of the man. You feel a sense of camaraderie towards the woman. God knows how many times you’d worn the exact same expression talking to one of your own bosses.

And then, well, then you usually got fired. It’s not looking good for her.

“Mister Wayne! I didn’t see you there, apologies!” she says, straightening her shoulders.

“Jeanine, it’s good to see you. Are you well, have you checked with the paramedics yet?”

“I have, Sir. Thank you for worrying about me,” Jeanine answers, with a healthy dose of hero-worship in her voice. You can’t judge, you’d be staring all starry-eyed at Bruce if you weren’t falling asleep where you sat. Apparently, traumatic experiences make you sleep. Who would’ve thought?

Like you hadn’t experienced this scenario a thousand times before. First time with fucking Bruce Wayne standing right next to you, though.

“Of course, I would. You’re one of my people,” he says, giving her a warm smile. Jeanine physically sags with relief at his words, because it sounds like she’s probably not getting fired tonight.

Bruce gets a notification on his phone, hums, and then slides it back into his pant pocket.

“Jeanine, we’re going back together to the manor tonight,” Bruce continues. Also, you were? Nobody mentioned that to you, and certainly nobody asked you about it. Well, fuck what you want, right? Who cares if you desperately want your cramped apartment in the Narrows, you’re getting shipped off to the fucking Wayne Manor of all places.

You just go along with it. Just go along with it. Wayne Manor probably has lots of nice, plush beds, and you’d kill for a pillow and some ambient rain sounds right now.

Bruce looks off to the side, where Tim is on the phone. They make eye contact, Bruce nods, and then turns back to the two of you.

“I’ll be right back. You two stay here, do not go anywhere,” he commands, king of the castle.

There’s quiet between the two of you. Jeanine squirms under your gaze, obviously guilty. You think back over her words, and then you groan.

“Jeanine. Jeanine, did I not have to go to this fucking party?”

Jeanine is quiet. She’s too fucking quiet.

“Jeanine?” your voice is shaky, and you have to bite the inside of your lip to force yourself not to tear up again. It was getting kind of embarrassing, honestly. You did not cry this much. Usually. This was not a usual day, of course. You’d been Ground Hog Day-ed into another reality… you think.

“No, Ma’am, you didn’t need to go. You’re… you used to be a Wayne, and even if you’ve parted from the name, you still have the power that comes with that. You did not have to come tonight,” she says, sounding remorseful and afraid. And maybe she should be.

If you had as much power as she said, you could probably fire her. You press your hands into your face.

“I thought you said you’d quit if I didn’t go,” you grind out, digging your fingers into your eyes, clawing into your already ruined makeup.

“I was lying, Ma’am. As I always do. I’m sorry,” she apologises. None of this makes any sense, and neither does she. Why would she lie? Why is this normal? What is the new normal, and how are you supposed to hide if you don’t know how to blend in?

You realise that you’re falling into old habits instinctively. That maybe you should say something about all this, or at least that you have some weird form of amnesia. You don’t, though. You’re scared, you’re far too scared.

“Well how- I thought you were serious this time!” you cry out, stuttering over your own lies, flinging your hands from your face. Jeanine winces at you. It’s probably the dried mascara running down your face in black rivulets, making you look like an odd mix between a raccoon and a banshee.

You’d seen your reflection in the ambulance’s side mirror. It had almost been as scary as the Joker’s goons. Almost.

“…Please, please don’t fire me,” she begs, her hands clasped tight in front of her.

You realise you probably should for an admittance like that. This was too complicated, this woman and her non-existent relationship with you was far too complicated. You also realise that whoever ran this stupid body before was very used to Jeanine’s baseless threats, and it wouldn’t be at all fair to her. And she seems quite desperate for this job. Which really doesn’t make much sense, because she seems quite important, and she’s working for you, someone else who seems quite important.

God if you fucking knew. You were quickly discovering you didn’t know shit.

“I won’t, just… just don’t say anything about this to anyone, okay? I’m…” you sigh, uncertain what to do, what to say, “I’m having a hard time.”

“Thank you, thank you so, so, so much. I’ll pay you back, I won’t do it again, I’ll do whatever you ask me to-”

“That’s enough, please. I just… I’d like some quiet,” you cut her off, closing your eyes and shuffling back in the ambulance. You cut yourself off from the rest of the world, hide your head behind your knees, and try to ignore the flashing lights and yelling voices. The ambulance shifts weight slightly as Jeanine sits beside you. She’s not too close to feel uncomfortable, just toeing the line.

Bruce comes back, looking over the two of you. He seems sombre, but you’re not sure why. Is it the entire night? Did something bad happen again? Is it just how miserable the two of you look? You don’t care enough to ask.

You just don’t care.

You tune out of their conversation again, even knowing it might be important. When Jeanine leaves, and Bruce invites you to a black car, you follow silently. He opens the door, and after a moment’s hesitation, you follow him in.

He knocks on the panel separating the two of you from whoever’s driving the car, and like a well-oiled machine, the car pulls out of the traffic and the paparazzi and out onto the street. Must be nice. You bet Jeanine is going to have to walk home.

Ah, wait, you’re one of them now. You’re one of those ‘must be nice’ types. Weird. You kept forgetting, somehow. Even with Gotham’s prince sitting next to you. Weird.

“I want you to stay at the manor for the night,” Bruce says, and you nod, barely listening. You’re barely conscious, far too tired to understand the implications of the words he was saying. If there were any, like you said, you couldn’t tell.

You’re watching the city go by, the light streaming past in a blur of colours. You rest your head in your hand, your elbow on the armrest. Even with you pressing your face to the glass, you can’t see the sky. The buildings stretch too high. And even if you could, it wasn’t like you’d see anything aside from some late-night flights. The Gotham light pollution and the smoke-filled sky would see to that.

Bruce doesn’t say anything else after that. You’re grateful for the quiet.

You squeeze your eyes shut, and maybe in some act of self-harm, try to remember what happened tonight. Try to pick through your thoughts, and understand whatever happened. That man… that horrible man. He disappeared into thin air. Gone, just gone.

And your world had changed. You’d gotten richer, more powerful. And yet, and yet… you knew this feeling. You knew this weakness. You knew what it meant when you looked in the mirror and you saw something barely alive.

You knew what grief looked like.

You want to rip out your own hair and chew off your own skin. It didn’t make any sense, and you felt crazier and crazier by the second. And none of it made sense, and yet, you had the worst feeling. An omen, a dark cloud. Something worse than the Joker, something that made even less sense.

Even in this life, were you alone? That wasn’t fair. That didn’t make any sense. That didn’t make any sense at all.

Your voice is quiet in the car. Her voice is quiet in the car.

“Do you know where my Mum is?” a little girl asks the big, strong man, her tiny body dwarfed by the black leather of the car. She’s out of place, out of time. She doesn’t fit here.

She doesn’t think she ever has.

The big, strong man, the hero, stays silent, his face hidden by the darkness. The little girl sobs, cries, wails. She wants her mum back. She wants her family back. And now, she wants her life back.

All have been stolen from her.

Maybe she was dreaming. Maybe she was dead. Maybe you were dreaming. Maybe you were dead. Maybe this was another world, and both you and her now have to navigate another lonely place. At least you’d do it together, hand in hand.

It didn’t matter. You knew where you needed to be.

“I want to see it.”

You need to see it. You grasp desperately at Bruce’s arm, nails digging into his expensive and ruined suit. Begging him, pleading him.

He says something. You think it’s a ‘what?’

“I want to see their graves. I want to see my mother’s grave.”

Bruce’s face darkens, and you’re too tired, too exhausted to tell what emotion flits across it. You wonder if it’s the same desperation you feel. But it confirms it. They’re dead. They’re still dead. Despite everything, despite the entire world changing for you, the most important part had been forgotten.

They were still dead. And you were still here. Alone.

“Tomorrow. Tomorrow, but for tonight, you need to rest,” he promises you, and your hand releases. You watch your palm hang limply in your lap, and for a second, it doesn’t seem like your hand. Bruce starts speaking again, this apologetic, pitying tone. You can’t stand it. You can’t stand it one bit.

And in the rudest, most cowardly thing you’ve ever done, you cover your ears like a child.

The rest of the car ride passes in a blur of colour and sound. You’re in Gotham, driving away from the Tower, you’re at the edges of town, passing over one of the bridges, you’re driving through New Jersey’s countryside, passing green fields and old buildings. You go by the iron-wrought gates of Wayne Manor, up the alley’s winding entryway, and finally, the car rolls to a stop in front of the stairs.

To Mr. Wayne’s credit, he doesn’t open the fucking door for you again. You get to stumble your way out on your own two stubborn legs, swaying drunkenly, sickly. He waits for you at the stairs, and you ignore the arm he offers you. He’s just as blindingly irritating as his son.

Didn’t you like these people? You would again in the morning, you just needed your hate. It was the only thing keeping you going at this point. Pure rage was fueling you as you climbed those steps. You’re panting, but you don’t really know why. They’re not that tall.

You feel weak. You feel so, so weak. And you hate it. You’d worked so hard to be free of it, even when you longed for it like a toxic ex-lover, you’d pushed it away. And now it had it’s fangs wrapped around you again, and again, you’d have to climb out of hell.

Today, it was more literal. Tomorrow? God fucking knows. People were literally vanishing from thin air, Pete’s sake. You’ll try, of course. But god fucking knows.

A butler opens the door, and Bruce enters. Once you follow in, the butler closes the door behind him. This time, you really do try to hear what they say. It’s impossible. You concentrate, but all you get for your hard work is a headache. Tomorrow, you’ll try again tomorrow.

The butler rushes off, something important and butler-y to be done. You really didn’t know what butlers did. You couldn’t imagine what their jobs were other than cleaning and cooking. Accounting? Did butlers do accounting?

“I need to handle some things. Will you be able to find your old room alright?” Bruce asks, interrupting your increasingly inane thoughts.

You blink, at him stupidly. Because you were stupid. You had a brand to keep.

“Yes,” you lie. You don’t really know why you do. Some odd mix of self-protective instincts, exhaustion-induced delirium, and also a deep desire to be alone. You really, really wanted to be fucking alone.

“Goodnight then,” Bruce says, he pauses like he’s going to say something else, but he doesn’t. He’s done that twice now, you think. Maybe he just doesn’t think you’re worth the effort. He’d be right.

You watch his back as he strides off into the darkness of the manor, leaving you shivering in the empty foyer. Your expensive ballgown is tattered, grimy, and worst of all, bloody. You want to get out of it. And then you want to sleep.

The click of his dress shoes fades, and you’re left wondering what the fuck you’re going to do next. Could you just start storming into random empty rooms? Where would you find any clothes? You were not going to sleep in this dress, no way.

So, you start up the grand staircase and start storming into random empty rooms. You find studies, bathrooms, and bedrooms. None that seem like anyone lives in them, of course. They feel like fancy hotel stays, the type you see online and sigh about.

The house, no, the manor, is quiet. Empty. It feels haunted, honestly. It probably was, a building this old and important. And it wasn’t like you didn’t know about Martha and Thomas Wayne. You didn’t think any Gotham native didn’t know about them, about the tragedy that had struck them.

It made Bruce seem like someone real, someone like you. Because if even the billionaires could get shot in alleys in Gotham City, it made more sense when the poor folks died. Like you were all human like God didn’t play favourites.

But, let’s be honest, you’d prefer to be an orphan in a mansion than the Narrows. Bruce Wayne had time to heal after what happened to him, for you it was from the frying pan to the fire.

The orphanage you’d been in for two years before you’d turned eighteen and been kicked out had had a very strict hierarchy. Probably still did, you never went back to check. It was technically a foster home, but the ancient sign beside the front door spoke differently. ‘Gotham Orphanage - Founded by Alan Wayne 1878’, the mark of the Waynes even found there. You used to touch the sign every time you went past it like it was some odd good luck charm. You still owe that sign your first successful job interview. Like you didn’t touch the copper plate every damn day, including every day you’d failed another interview.

And, well, it was Gotham. It wasn’t a good place. It had long been cemented in your mind that those theories that Gotham was cursed were true. That there wasn’t any other explanation.

You pause in your musings when you find a room that actually looks like it might be lived in. A long time ago, you think, from the dust covering the shelves. When you check the closet, you find men’s clothes, also untouched. You hope whoever lives here doesn’t care if you steal their shit, because you certainly don’t. Oh wow, this bathroom is gorgeous. The tub is gigantic, easily able to fit a group of at least six, maybe more. Still, you want to go to sleep more than you want a nice soak, so you go for a quick shower where you get rid of all… all the blood.

You watch the red run down the drain and are brought back to much simpler times.

Even as one of the older kids, you were still new blood. You hadn’t made any friends when you tried to defend the younger, weaker kids, either. The foster ‘parents’ who didn’t let you call them anything other than Mrs and Mr Hemming didn’t care about any abuse that happened under the house, as long as it wasn’t visible. You’d done this ritual before, but it actually had been your blood. It hadn’t hurt as much as this did, for some unknowable reason.

You weren’t a fighter. The very few punches you did take, you never hit back. Not like you had tonight. You’d been terrified the Hemmings would kick you out, stop feeding you. Still, you never moved, either. Never let the others take their anger out on the younger kids. You couldn’t do it. And now, looking back on it, your fear of the Hemmings retaliating was stupid. They’d needed the funds the foster caring gave them, and they were always trying to take in more and more kids.

They were empty threats. You were a terrified child. The what-ifs didn’t really matter anymore.

And maybe you were a bleeding heart type, like the other kids had said. Maybe you were gullible, naive, and a pushover. Like you hadn’t been through all the bullshit everyone else had. Like you being nice and hopeful and all those things that got you picked on weren’t all deliberate choices. One day, all the anger and rage you had would bubble over. It would destroy you and your life in a catastrophe, not unlike the one that took your family.

You’d already pushed it down so many times. Waking up today, in a different, unfamiliar world, had probably just made it worse. As always, you ignore it. It’s not worth worrying about.

Getting out of the shower, you do a very lazy towel off and then grab that mystery man’s clothes. They’re mostly dress suits, but you find a few old T-shirts. It hangs off you like a curtain, but it’s warm and it smells nice. Minty and earthy and… oddly free. Bouncy, alive, but still calming and relaxing. It’s a nice counter to the corpse vibes you’re rocking right now, which is decidedly un-alive and un-calm.

You wonder what it would’ve been like to mourn in safety. Where you didn’t have to worry if someone would steal your portion of food or the few funds you could hide in the garden. Where the glares of others didn’t constantly dig into your skin, reminding you that you weren’t wanted there. That you never would be.

That was alright. The place had stunk of mould and rat shit anyway. And maybe you had in this life. It didn't look like you were doing much better, anyway. No, this version of you somehow looked worse. You didn't know how it was possible, and then you remind yourself that none of this is possible, and you really ought to let go of that word.

Still, you lived in Gotham. You would always live in Gotham. You couldn’t leave, it was your home. It was a part of you, like every other sorry idiot who still lived here. School shootings, bomb threats, the city’s regular ol’ disasters. Even if you had been put in a good foster home, even if you had lived... here, you doubted your life would’ve been that much better. Of course, you were still bitter about it. Couldn’t the world just take a little bit off your plate? Maybe it was now, maybe this was the universe's way of saying sorry. A fancy, but empty house, with a still dead family. Maybe you were a little too greedy, a little too jealous.

You slide the duvet covers to the side, untucking them just like you do whenever you do stay in a crappy motel. When all the sides are thoroughly untucked, you slide underneath the covers. When your face lands on the pillow, you sigh in relief. Despite all the bullshit you’d suffered tonight, you had silk pillows, and this phone had youtube premium, so you could listen to rain sounds on it.

Safe. Sort of. Happy. Sort of. Alive. Sort of.

You told yourself it could be worse. And it could’ve been, so you kept on. Today, even after the night you’d had, you tell yourself it could be worse, again. At least the goon didn’t capture you, at least you didn’t actually see the Joker, at least you had a safe bed for the night, at least…

At least the Batman didn’t rescue you. You know it’s silly, but you can’t help but think it.

You hated him almost as much as the Joker, which was saying something since you regularly daydreamed about ripping that man limb from limb. Because the Bat refused to do anything about the supervillain, to finally put the mad dog down, you would always hate him. There wasn’t any other option. You sort of hated his entire entourage. Even Red Hood a bit, since even if they constantly fought, it was obvious both of them held back when dealing with each other. Still, you hated Red Hood and Robin a little less, after tonight. You kind of owed it to them.

You didn’t want to. You wanted to hate them and keep hating them till you died. It was one of your little things, the little things you couldn’t let go of. The little things that hinted at your less-than-perfect sanity. You felt that if you ever forgot what they’d done, what they kept doing every day, that you’d be disrespecting your family, forgetting some part of them. Some part of their memory, which you greedily hoarded away. Not a single precious recollection was to be lost, not ever.

You weren’t allowed to move on. Weren’t supposed to. Sometimes the many little rules you’d made for yourself felt like they were going to eat you alive. A swarm devouring its master. Swallowing you down bit by bit. Up and up, eating all the parts of you pushed down.

You wrap the blanket tighter around you, closing your eyes tight. Like if you tuck your feet inside the duvet, the monsters can’t get you. Your monsters can’t get you. Sometimes it felt like they were already feasting, and you just refused to feel it.

But only sometimes, right?

MASTERLIST - NEXT

[chemicallywrit]

What a week in audio drama! Happy Audio Drama Sunday folks, can we talk about some episodes????

🎥 @thesiltverses comes through once again with an absolute banger. Val is chilling—Val has always been chilling—but this week seeing her vulnerable was somehow. Worse. Hey Chuck??? Run, maybe? And if you’re lucky a treason charge will be the best you can hope for. Don’t think too hard about the worst.

🌄 @midnightburgr my beloved, I love you Midnight Burger. I adore the Hood’s Pocket crew and how delightfully normal they are in the face of time-traveling cowboy outlaws. This show continues to bring the wittiness and smarts firmly alongside compassion. It’s so beautiful.

👁️ Why must you hurt me, @hellofromthehallowoods? We’ve heard Nikignik in some bad emotional spots before, but this ep was three kinds of heartbreaking. Can we talk about the sound Nikignik made—

🚬 I feel like @radio-outcast’s strength is their expert combo of the surreal and the tangible, and that’s doubly true when our heroes are trapped in an illusion as they have been for a minute. It makes it all scarier what happens to Helix at the end of the story, and all the more a relief when the happy ending comes. For now. Enemies abound and surround our heroes, but they will carry on.

🐍 There’s no show like the Magnus Protocol to make me just so so scared of a tiny hole a squirrel made. Like I yelped aloud. That team knows how to hecking GET you. And in the office romance department, I find whatever Alice has going in mighty compelling. I’m sure that will be totally fine.

🚀 I started @jumpleadsscifi this week and I am honestly delighted. I love a sitcom, and I’ve finished episode five, which means we’re to my favorite part of the sitcom: getting just a little bit sad with it. Jump Leads is about two underqualified star trek-like officers whose job it is to fix time and space—though mostly they just mess around. I love it.

🔎 YOU WERE ALL RIGHT ABOUT SHERLOCK & CO. This is what I wish BBC Sherlock was. This means everything to me. I’m obsessed. I’m barely even finished with the first episode. It’s amazing. THE MUSIC.

🐰In Inn Between news, I’m about to ruin all y’all’s lives, and in Re: Dracula news, WE ARE BACK BAYBEE. In The Dead news, Run Rabbit will be back this week! We also are finishing up recording the next story for The Dead, which I’m so excited about. Stay tuned!

For real, this month is looking a little thin, and if you felt like giving me a tip, it would really go a long way. Thank you! See you next week!

[yesterdaysnewts]

so i just finished the first season of house md and let me say

your attachment to wilson is understandable, that man has the biggest brownest eyes ive ever seen

house on the other hand has the scariest blue eyes known to man pls buy her brown contact lenses

i actually like cameron x house i would potentially like to see more of that she is a very nice contrast to house and i rlly want to see that dynamic explored even though the season 1 finale did make it pretty clear that hes still in love with stacey

speaking of which im looking forward to seeing how her presence in the hospital shakes things up

im very glad they got rid of vogler or whatever his name was i had vivid hallucinations of punching him in the face repeatedly everytime he was on screen

i want to find out what the deal with foreman is. he has matching shows with house. he hates homeless people. he committed a crime at 16. he broke into a patients house to figure out how to comfort her while she died. literally who is this man i need to knowwwww

that brings me to chase. i cant figure him out either, first hes a brown nose to house, then hes snitching on him every chance he gets, he doesnt need to money but he wants his job, he is somehow to coolest person in this show and the lamest, he wears a leather jecket and looks like he belongs in a pantene commerical. hes my favourite

also i want it to be actually brought up that house plays piano? like in the first season there are 4 seperate times he plays piano (tho he only mimes playing it one time so technically only three)

GOD this show i cant believe i didnt watch it sooner

wilson really does have the most wettest biggest brownest eyes i have ever seen and it makes him so scrunkly i need to put him in a bag and bash that bag into a brick wall

and yea houses eyes are fucking terrifying and the worse thing is that someone on a discord server once edited him to have brown eyes and somehow it was scarier

also you are like the first person ive seen express a like for cameron x house so honestly god speed for that but you do bring up some banging fucking points

live laugh love stacey that is really all i have to say to that her and house have such a good juicy relationship

fun fact vogler only exists because fox wanted someone to like oppose house and that so the writers threw him in and in process made chase a dickhead (still bbg tho)

also FOREMAN, god i love him so much like mans presents himself as like 'oh smart doctor, id want this man to be my doctor' but then as the show progresses you just end up looking at him like 'what happened here'. in s3 you do properly start to see how he parallels house and it is scrumptious top tier telly and, like chase, he is a fucking dickhead. and the car thing as well cos like he goes on about how he pulled himself out of that but then you watch and he clings to normalcy and making something of himself its brilliant

and the shit himself chase. i find it so fucking funny how his first name is robert like he does not fucking look like a robert. and his relationship with house like fucking hell, you can tell chase is desperately trying to separate himself from his actual dad and by doing that he clung onto his work and especially house in an attempt to do that.

also 'he wears a leather jacket and looks like he belongs in a pantene commercial. he is my favourite' speaks for itself cause yeag.

unfortunately i don't actually think its bought up that house can play piano later on but you do get to see him play other instruments which is fun cause hugh laurie is a really good musician and im so happy they gave house interests outside of just medicine

happy watching the show is gonna make you go just a bit insane

[starsreminisce]

I didn’t intend for this to be so long I apologize in advance😭

Have you or anyone mentioned this before?

What if when Elain and Lucien had their ambiguous meetup in WAR,.. what if Elain wanted to give Lucien a peck or a hug and be in the comfort of her stranger(!) mate and was drawn to him in a way she couldn’t fathom which is why she now keeps clear of him. It’s not hate, it could be confusion. People really exaggerate her being freaked out of the feeling of the bond. It is because SHE IS AWARE of it. We know this, Elain knows this, Lucien knows this, her sisters know this… there’s no need for readers to be all shocked pikachu face about Elain currently not wanting to be around Lucien. Nesta and Feyre or mostly anyone (especially someone like Elain who misses their old life) would’ve reacted similarly. If you’re only seeing the couple/pair and not the individual, isn’t it then harder to figure out what motivates that individual? Elain’s decision-making won’t have to do with someone else, that’s her own thing. What happens after a couple is formed is another thing (i.e. Feyre in TAR and MAF vs Feyre in WAR and SF where she makes plenty of decisions as a unit with Rhys aka when a couple gives into one another fully)

Yk, I can imagine it’s much scarier when you feel a pull to someone while knowing that somehow you both are connected biologically.. and they happen to be someone you just met. Feyre and Nesta were scared too when they found out they had mates! Heck they were a little intimidated when they first met the guys who were going to be their mates (duh they were among scary fae)

I think people tend to forget that Feyre and Nesta also took their time at different points of their own journey and in their relationships to figure out what kind of future they wanted. And they did this while away from their mates (i.e. Feyre accepted the bond before she gave Rhys her heart and body, so a more traditional romance approach, while she was alone at the cabin. And Nesta wanted to keep it strictly physical w/o the bond. Meaning keeping her heart/feelings out of it bc of her low self-worth. The aftermath of her fight w/ Cassian was spent with Emerie and Gwyn).

It’s actually perfect that Lucien is constantly away from Elain right now because otherwise it would all be much harder for her to process the situation she’s in. This exact courtesy given to Feyre and to Nesta by the author (all of this isn’t my thought I know this point has been made a lot!). Again, if we only think in terms of romance and not the individual then it’s going to be harder to understand why a character is making a certain choice

Idk how readers are interpreting these male characters but do they really think these males are they type to be like “we are now bound together, accept the bond or else; you must obey and come with me” I mean, SJM even found a way for Rhys to whisk away Feyre with her consent!

I think SJM likes showing different ways mates end up together and she’ll “select” a couple to demonstrate that. For example, Feysand= mates which one person isn’t aware of the bond because they grew up human, and it snapped for the fae without them revealing it to their mate and etc, etc. Elain and Lucien just happen to be the fated mates who had their bond snapped before they knew who the other was! Honestly SJM could’ve had any of her other couples go through with this. But also maybe there’s a specific reason- which she knows- for why she choose it for Elucien. Maybe it fits their characters best?

Authors are just puppet masters pulling at strings and coming up with possibilities y’all! There’s no need to act like these characters were done dirty because it was designed that way, pls for the love of the Mother. All that means is you have a problem with the story or writing and that’s not gonna change. So maybe it’s best for some people to look for other content?

Anyway- Elain is right now in the series taking the time to figure out what she wants (like her sisters did when they learned of their bonds!!) Maybe SJM could’ve elaborated with Feyre and Nesta and how they considered their options for the future? Lets be fr there’s a few details that SJM leaves out which tends to be important for the readers but not to her (maybe). But anyways the difference with Elain? She’s taking her time to decide and figure out the bond situation outside of her own book. As soon as Elain’s book is out why would she need to be away from Lucien any longer? Feyre had reason to be away from Rhys in MAF.- tamlin, her human life, etc. Nesta wanted to stay away from Cass at the beginning of SF because what even is a mate plus her self-worth issues. Do we wanna see this again with an Archeron in a whole book or rather it happening in the sidelines this time around? I mean with an Elain (Elucien) book they then have to be near each other at some point. NOW their story is beginning. I just expect it to have a happy ending:) <— Elain staying away from Lucien now but not later isn’t an original thought, I know this point has been made by many blogs!! Sooo I think this is what SJM is doing. Keeping them at a distance in the meantime. Because they won’t need it at some point.

It’s going to be different in Elain’s book because who wants a repeat of how Feyre and Nesta dealt with their bonds and their mates! We want some difference in the romance with each couple and how they handle big revelations! Authors love stepping out of their norm and showing variety, surely SJM will do that!

P.S this msg had a lot going on so if there’s anything you’d like clarification for pls feel free to say so :)

It's all good!

If there is one thing that SJM appears to have an issue with regarding fated pairs, it's the idea of instant love that often comes with fated mate tropes. She weaves into her narrative a desire to demonstrate why these pairs are perfect for each other and what her idea of a perfect match looks like.

As Elriel shippers and other non-shippers begin to realize, the bond itself serves as the primary conflict in Elain and Lucien’s story. It's something they both will tackle and eventually come to accept because this bond is now an intrinsic part of them. That's what I personally anticipate and look forward to in their story.

Upon rereading ACOMAF, I found my perspective shifted. Despite Feyre and Rhysand's bond snapping after Under the Mountain, Feyre still entertained thoughts of her upcoming wedding and pondered her future alongside Tamlin, all while feeling guilty and inexplicably drawn to Rhys. It wasn't until spending more time with Rhysand that Feyre began to recognize their shared desire to protect loved ones. This shift in perspective was crucial for Feyre, who grappled with her past actions, including the deaths of innocent faeries, and came to the realization that Rhysand had supported her far more than Tamlin had during her trials.

Rhysand's actions spoke volumes about his commitment to Feyre, even when she was unaware of his feelings. Conversely, it's somewhat frustrating when critics question why Lucien didn't do more for Feyre, especially when ACOMAF emphasizes the unique and profound nature of the mating bond. Lucien's efforts to support Feyre are acknowledged, but it's clear that Rhysand played a significant role in keeping her grounded. Similarly, Lucien's understanding of Elain's needs and his efforts to help her, such as demanding she be exposed to sunlight in ACOWAR, further illustrate the difference of their connection.

While there are limitations to the bond, it's unfair to hold Lucien to the same standard as Rhysand. Lucien and Feyre share a close bond, but they are not mates. Their relationship is distinct from Feyre's bond with Rhysand, which offers a unique level of support and understanding.

Similarly, Lucien demonstrated his understanding of Elain's needs in ACOWAR by demanding she be brought outside to the sun, just as Rhysand knew the music and images of the Night Court would help Feyre.

The passage of time is felt more keenly in Elucien's story compared to Feysand's and Nessian's. Feyre met Rhysand in Calanmai, saw him only once after a month, and then spent much of her time with Rhys Under the Mountain in a drugged state before returning home. It was only after two months that Rhys called in the bargain after Feyre reached out for help.

Nessian isn't exempt from this, either. There were four months between the war and Nesta and Cassian's confrontation, followed by another nine months before Cassian was sent to Nesta's apartment under orders for an intervention.

The difference lies in our experience of Elucien's time apart from each other. They are still included in other's stories, whereas we receive only a brief mention of the time lapse before the start of Feysand's and Nessian's story.

I often wonder if Nesta's and Elain's story drew inspiration from ACOMAF as some sort of "what if" scenario. For instance, what if Rhysand had decided to rescue Feyre himself, considering he kept hearing her vomiting, and that's what ACOSF explores? Or what if Rhysand hadn't winnowed away after their bond snapped after Under the Mountain, but instead blurted out to Feyre, rather than Mor, that she was his mate? Then Feyre went back to the Spring Court knowing she was Rhysand's mate. That is the essence of Elucien's story.

SJM does love to show the variations of the bond snapping. For instance, Kallias and Vivianne's bond snapped after they were married, Miryam was a slave present to Drakon, and Drakon set her free. Miryam had a relationship with Jurian, and while Jurian was seducing Clythia, that's when Miryam's and Drakon's bond snapped. We don't know when Tamlin's parents' bond snapped, but we do know that Rhysand's parents' bond snapped the first time they met, and Rhysand's father did not give his mother the freedom to decide what to do, even after he had saved her.

Elain is the only one among the sisters who knew about the bond firsthand. She knows that whatever she is feeling towards Lucien is a result of that bond. It's interesting to note that both Elain and Lucien, who spent most of their lives suppressing their needs and settling in their environments, have similar experiences. Lucien was severely punished for making waves, whereas Elain grew up with two sisters with big personalities who had no issues rocking the boat. Consequently, Elain does what she can to avoid being a problem. This is where the conflict of the bond comes in - Elain was engaged to someone she loved despite the short amount of time to be told “well, actually, your soulmate is this person. That person who told you that they love you actually hates you because of what you are now.”

This is also the first scenario where Elain actually gets to tell someone what to do. She isn't trying to argue against or support someone. For the first time, Lucien is giving her autonomy for the decision and the space to make it.

I personally believe that SJM was so confident in her match between Elain and Lucien that she mated them almost instantly, pulling back any further conversation beyond their initial discussion. In ACOSF, Cassian and Nesta primarily think of them as a package deal because whenever Elain does something, there's usually a comment about where Lucien is or isn't. It's also extremely telling that their only interaction in the book is with Lucien still looking at her with longing, while Elain acts the opposite towards the only person she cannot hide her real emotions from.

If Elain wouldn't reject the bond in someone else's book, including the novella that includes multiple people, then we should also be asking why Elain would act a certain way towards Lucien, except for the one thing that will absolutely cement that we know she doesn't like him.

It's been two years since it was revealed that Elain and Lucien are mates. The reason why she resisted this long deserves more than a hundred pages (roughly part one) of her book.

[elsfairy]

GAMING with Sevika.

Reader & Sevika are just being chaotic. That's it.

• Sevika is definitely the more competitive one between you both.

• Will act like every game you play together pisses her off. Although she secretly enjoys winning, no matter what you chose to play.

• You're always trying your hardest to get her to play horror games with you, but to no use she never does.

• "I'm scarier, no can do Sweetheart"

• You always found it amusing whenever she would lose. Playing video games with a hot-headed girlfriend? amusing. She didn't like to lose. Even on something that wasn't even real.

• "You're laughing now, wait until I destroy you next round"

• The both of you have this habit of taking all the food from the kitchen, to the living room. Knowing damn well neither of you are moving until you win against her.

• Sometimes that could take hours. Sevika was very competitive and she found enjoyment in watching you pout and act like a brat.

• Would purposely lose, just so she could see your smile when you win. She loved your smile. It's beautiful.

• Sevika loves to annoy you when you're playing. She will nudge your shoulders, and mess up your hair. Goes the extra mile and tries sitting on you just so you lose.

• "Stop touching me! let me win at least once!"

• Adored when you became angry over a video game.

• Tells you constantly how she sucks at any video game. Yet somehow manages to fuck you over, and is winning every single thing you chose.

• It was something she did when you looked like you were about to lose your mind, but she would let you play alone while she either made you food or grabbed you a drink. Just so you could enjoy winning. She was the true Sweetheart.

• You'll both lose track of the time, and day the longer you game together.

• Like Sevika, you loved to piss her off. Smacking her with a pillow was something you did a lot, just so she wouldn't be able to focus on anything else.

• "You did that on purpose. You knew i was close to winning"

• Neither of you is going to bed at a 'normal' time. It's either 3am or 5am. Never before, maybe sometimes later than 5. It just depends on how competitive you're feeling.

• As much as she loves winning, she will help you. Even if that means playing a level or game for you, and giving you the win willingly. She loved you, so.

• Secretly she is an animal crossing player. It's relaxing okay, she needs something that isn't going to piss her off. Breaking her damn axe on the other hand will piss her off though.

• You, because you're a brat love to tease her about it.

• "I thought you would have liked something like, i don't know⎯ anything but that game"

• 100% denying any of your words, will act like that's completely false information and go on about her day.

• There were games that she played, which you sucked at, but she also sucked at some of the ones you enjoyed. You would teach her the ones you like and vice versa.

• Sevika is that gamer who's going to break something if she's too stressed. Most of the time, she's beating your poor pillows. Brat behaviour honestly.

• As much as the pair of you enjoyed playing, somewhere between the long hours of just staring at a screen will make you feel sick.

• She's going to make sure you're fine, getting you water and anything you need. That's just being a simp.

• Enjoys watching you just have fun.

• "Lean any closer and you're going to be in the TV, Sweetheart"

• Rubs your shoulder to relax you if she can tell you're the one getting stressed out.

• Literal heart eyes at her.

• If she's the only one playing any games, you'll curl up in her lap, just watching and enjoying her company.

• That always ends up failing miserably, because she's either shouting at the screen or accidentally bopping you on the head with her elbow, depending on how you're sitting on her.

• She's going to ruin someone's day if they talk shit to you.

• "Listen here you stupid fucking⎯ Oh, you sound like a child so this might look bad on my good image, but shut the fuck up"

• Gives you a nervous thumbs up.

• Still loves you deeply, even if you do beat her ass in some games.

this been sitting here for a while so, uh yeah. Gamer rage is very real, we all have it. I've broken at least one (or more) monitors before, but let's move on from that. enjoy ♡ 

[pttucker]

TWO HAN SOOYOUNGS! Well, okay, there’s technically always been two Han Sooyoungs but ngl I completely forgot that she mentioned a clone that ran off. Or so she says, anyway. Because why not add another mystery onto our mystery? Which Han Sooyoung is the original? Which is the avatar? (Honestly I don’t even care, I love them both.) Absolutely was not expecting the other person Secretive Plotter made an Outer World Covenant with to be her, though of course that makes the most sense actually. And his words were lowkey foreshadowing if you think about it with the whole “I’m expecting much bigger things.” Yeah, because Dokja’s actually read the entire novel whereas Sooyoung hasn’t so he's expecting more from the guy who's read it all. And that's not even getting into how Secretive Plotter was immediately drawn to Dokja (and perhaps Sooyoung too). I've thought for a long time that he was away of who Dokja was or at least what he could do. And speaking of the original novel, everything is so mixed up right now. We’re getting into some real hardcore sci-fi alternate universes and parallel timelines kinda stuff. Though I did vaguely feel like something like this was coming. Not this specifically but the fact that the novel isn’t halfway through did actually make me wonder if we weren’t going to start the story over (like maybe Dokja was going to regress somehow) or something weird like that. Wasn’t expecting to jump into Sooyoung’s version of the 1863rd round, but if Dokja is going to start looking into other worlds, this does make sense. Now I’m really wondering what’s gonna happen with all of these different versions of TWSA. Will it be Dokja vs Sooyoung for who’s final chapter will prevail? Or will the worlds not merge at all and they can continue to reach their own final chapters? Since Secretive Plotter specifically asked "what about the other worlds" will Dokja's goal moving into the second half of the story now involve saving them too? And, wow, on an entirely different note, it’s actually kind of terrifying how easily Dokja was able to completely neutralize not only Joonghyuk, but the strongest Joonghyuk who’s existed 1863 rounds. No, not even neutralize, but turn him into his own personal mindless weapon. I mean, sure, Fourth Wall started it by making it so that he could be affected by the regressor depression but Dokja is terrifying in applying his knowledge of all of Joonghyuk’s best and worst moments. Which, on that topic, it’s honestly upsetting to see this world where everyone has managed to survive together until the end—the very world that Dokja has so carefully being trying to create—and Joonghyuk is still alone. 😭 They're off in their little base together like some kind of family and he's treated like some kind of beast to hunt down. 😭 And why is he alone? “Because he’s a bad guy who won’t hesitate to kill to fulfill his goals.” Uh...you guys literally have Kim Namwoon on your team and Han Sooyoung is not the most merciful person for a leader. Are you really ones to talk??? Yeah, Joonghyuk is a killing machine but you're telling me nobody on this team has killed people to fulfill their goals? What??? Especially since Dokja, the guy who has read the entire novel and knows intimately how truly awful Joonghyuk can be, still chose to reach out to him again and again and again and again until it finally stuck. Joonghyuk isn't some depressed, murderous monster in his world because Dokja did everything in his power to prevent it. Joonghyuk didn't have to end up like this. Again. Admittedly, even Dokja says that he got lucky finding Joonghyuk in his third round whereas Sooyoung seems to have found him in his last, but even in this round with a much scarier and more jaded Joonghyuk already in the 95th scenario, Dokja is still refusing to kill him even after he already attacked him, even if he knows that if Joonghyuk snaps out of his weird trance he will absolutely try to murder him.

[twinhood-2dot0]

A Shallow Dive Into: Batman’s Rogues Gallery Part 2

Here, part 2. The first one somehow got 7 likes??? I barely even put any effort into it. This one is also gonna be pretty low effort :P I started writing another post yesterday and I wrote 1360 words and I’m only like only a ⅓ finished??? And I kinda spent the whole day watching an anime start to finish 💀.Anyways, let’s get into some more that I missed.

The Al Ghul’s

Ra’s al Ghul (Raysh-Al-Ghool or, Raas-Al-Ghool. Even DC writers can’t agree, although I’m more accustomed to Raysh, I think that was how it was pronounced in the DCAU and the Arkham games. It’s Arabic for “Head of the demon”) is a man born around 700-450 years ago, who discovered the powers of the Lazarus pit, which has the power to bring people back from the dead and used it to prolong his life. (Yeah, this how pretty much most of the dead Batfam characters came back to life. Jason Todd, Kate Kane (Batwoman), who died for like one issue a few meters away from a Lazarus pit, Riddler, as mentioned before, when he got cancer and took a dip in the pit and figured out Batman’s identity.) Ra’s al Ghul, in his long life, played a part in like a lot of historical moments, and later comes to resent humanity and becomes an environmentalist. I’m not very familiar with the character unfortunately, with all of my experience being the Batman Begins version, the kinda weird role he played in Arkham City, and JLA: Tower of Babel where he takes down the entire Justice League using Batman’s countermeasures for his own allies, and the Injustice series, which I don’t remember much of except that he has like a nature sanctuary with various critically endangered species and he was besties with Animal Man.

Talia al Ghul is the daughter of Ra’s al Ghul, on-and-off love interest for Batman, and mother of Batman’s biological son, and also on-and-off ally of Ra’s al Ghul. She also played a part in Jason Todd’s resurrection and consequent training.

Ra’s also has one other daughter, Nyssa, but I honestly didn’t even know she existed until I played Arkham Knight. She has much less appearances than her sister.

Lady Shiva, while not a member of the family, has relations to the League of Shadows, so I thought I’d group them together. Lady Shiva is among the best martial artists in the DCU, able to best even Batman. She’s also the mother of Cassandra Cain, the other best fighter, although more so because of her procognitive abilities. 

Man-Bat

Wow, the realisticness makes him so much scarier.

Dr. Kirk Langstrom is a zoologist cursed with deafness, and in an effort to cure his deafness, creates a serum with the help of bat DNA but it goes horribly wrong and is turned into a giant bat. In recent publications, he’s more of a sympathetic villain acting more on primal rage than malice. His interpretation in Arkham Knight was done really well. Although Arkham Knight is not a horror game, there’s a ton of jumpscares. While just gliding and grappling to different buildings, the player may be randomly met with the shrieking face of the Man-Bat, and you have to go to his lab and piece together what he has done and create an antidote.

Mr. Freeze

Dr. Victor Fries’s (pronounced “Frees”. Yeah, DC names are often very on the nose, just look at E. Nygma and Harleen Quinzel.) wife Nora Fries is afflicted with a terminal illness, and is cryogenically preserved by her husband in hopes that a cure might one day be discovered. While working, he’s trapped in an accident that made him unable to survive outside of sub-zero environments, forcing him to wear a cryogenic suit, and he turns to crime to find a cure.

Mr. Freeze was originally just another bank robber with a freeze ray, but Paul Dini changed his origin story to the current iteration in an Emmy Award winning episode of Batman: The Animated Series titled “Heart Of Ice”. Scott Snyder, as much as I loved his stories, controversially retconned this in the New 52 reboot and made Fries a man who got obsessed with a cryogenically preserved woman named Nora Fields.

The Court Of Owls

A newer addition to the Batman mythos, appearing first in Scott Snyder’s Court Of Owls and City Of Owls arcs that kicked off the New 52 Batman series. The Court Of Owls are Gotham’s own Illuminati. A secret society made of the wealthiest and most powerful citizens of Gotham, they have existed for centuries, controlling the city from behind the shadows, along with the help of immortal assassins named the Talons.

Batmen of The Dark Multiverse

Scott Snyder’s 2017 crossover event named Dark Nights: Metal introduced us to the Dark Multiverse, a multiverse where everything that can go wrong, does go wrong, and is doomed to destruction. We’re introduced to the Batmen (and Batwoman) of The Dark Multiverse, who are all different versions of Batman with some drastic changes.

Joker 

A fan favorite, and the leader of the Batmen, is The Batman Who Laughs. This Batman gave into the urge of killing Joker, after he killed all his rogues, thousands of Gotham citizens and Jim Gordon, and is infected with a version of the Joker toxin that turns him insane, making him a Joker with the brain and physicality of Batman. He tricked the Batfamily and killed them all, and hid in his Batcave for a week, emerging to kill the Justice League, and he turned Damian into a mini-Joker and recruited the children affected by the Joker toxin as his “Rabid Robins”. This guy is freaking horrifying in all of the stories he appeared in.

Superman

The Superman of Earth -1 goes on a killing spree, even killing Lois Lane, leading Batman to decide to use lethal force. After his attempts with a Kryptonite spear doesn’t work out, he ingested a version of the Doomsday Virus (Doomsday is the monster that killed Superman in The Death Of Superman, the virus causes people to develop features like it.) aiding him in killing Superman, but after his victory, the virus spread and he could only watch helplessly as it destroyed his world.

The Flash

After all of the Batfam dies, Batman is compelled to take extreme measures, and tries to get The Flash to give him access to the Speed Force too, and when he refused, he used all the weapons employed by his Rogue’s Gallery to defeat him, chained him to the Batmobile (merged with the Cosmic Treadmill, it’s a treadmill that Flash uses to time travel accurately and stuff), and drove both of them into the Speed Force, absorbing The Flash and his powers, with Barry forced to watch as Batman murders each of his villains.

Aqua(wo)man

In a universe where everyone is gender-swapped, Bryce Wayne’s lover Sylvester Kyle (bleugh) is killed by metahumans, and starts killing every metahuman. After killing all of them on land, she meets Aquawoman, and peace negotiations turn into a conflict, and then she steals her trident, and kills her with her own weapon, and in retaliation, the Atlanteans drown Gotham City and a large part of the world, leading her to perform surgery on herself to give herself Aquawoman’s powers and designed an underwater army called the “Dead Waters''. Does that qualify as a navy?

Okay, there are a few more, like Cyborg Alfred Batmobile Batman, Ares Batman, Killed all of Green Lantern corps as a kid with a Green Lantern ring Batman, but I’m lazy, sorry. Maybe next time, cya, I gotta go finish Chainsaw Man.

[fates-theysband]

we'll find the gateway to the stars

famous last words: "oh i'll just write a quick drabble as a sort of after-credits sequence to my last fic" [spongebob narrator voice] Twelve. Hundred. Words. Later.

anyway sequel to this fic. nothing to really warn about except swear words.

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 (<- you are here) // Chapter 3

----

The back of the shop was so much quieter than the front, and that was how Charlie liked it. They still heard the clocks, the radio, the air conditioning, and, occasionally, the bell announcing the arrival of a customer, but it was all much fainter, fighting a losing battle with both the distance and the sheer volume of vintage toys and quaint tableware between the front and back of the store. Combine that with the meditative task of arranging displays, and it was the perfect place to think. Which was the exact thing Charlie was doing–thinking. Namely, trying to think about anything other than what–or rather, who–had been on their mind the past two days.

They hadn’t seen him since, of course–not that they really expected to. He’d probably forgotten them immediately after he left. Honestly he probably did just duck into the shop to get out of the sun for a few minutes and only bought the cat statue to make it less obvious. Speaking of, what was with that comment they made before he left? “I hope your little lady appreciates her doppelganger”? No normal person talks like that! They’d been trying so hard to be personable that they somehow sounded even more like a robot. If he had spared any thought for them after he left the thought was probably “What was that guy’s deal?” It was probably a blessing in disguise, anyway, because if he was too weirded out to come back, which he probably was, they’d never have to worry about something like that again.

That was certainly the comfortable thing to worry about, that they’d just get to pass this off as a fleeting encounter that they majorly flubbed. But the nicer and yet scarier possibility…

Their mind drifted again, to that slight smile the handsome stranger had on his face as he walked out, and they could feel their face warming up. It could not have been about them. No way. Or if it was, it was just a general smile from an unexpected pleasant interaction. Nothing more. There was no way he didn’t know he was out of their league. Not a chance. With that handsome face and beautiful voice and perfect hair and lord only knows how captivating his eyes probably are–

A loud guffaw from the front end of the store abruptly sent Charlie’s train of thought careening off a bridge. Unquestionably Mortimer’s laugh. Damn, they’d almost forgotten about the conversation with Mortimer that day.

It had started normally enough. Door opening, bells jingling, and a gruff voice declaring their return.

“Ahoy, Charlie! I have come to take the helm and return ye to yer boatswainly duties!”

“Ahoy,” they’d answered half-heartedly, still reeling from the encounter a few minutes ago. “And not a moment too soon.”

Mortimer must have caught a glimpse of Charlie’s face because the next thing out of their mouth as they rounded the counter was, “Yer puttin’ me in mind of the Ruby of the Forsaken Isle right now, matey.”

“Are you calling me beautiful or cursed?” 

“I’m calling ye bright red. Handsome stranger pay a visit while I was gone?”

“How did you–I mean, no, the–the–the–the heat, it’s just–”

That same loud guffaw. “I was just pullin’ yer leg. Got it in one, did I?”

“...I’m gonna go start sorting that stuff from the auction.”

Neither of them had brought it up since, but Mortimer was still looking awfully smug about it. Like an older sibling who just found out their younger sibling has a crush. They placed down the last of the porcelain angels they’d been arranging. Back to the front for a new box of treasure. They wove their way through the shelves until they arrived back at the front counter. Mortimer was there, as always, but this time looking even more like the cat who got the cream.

“Charlie! Just in time. Got somethin’ for ye.”

“More angels?” Charlie replied with a slight smirk.

“Aye, but that’s not what I mean. Somethin’ from an admirer.”

Charlie’s heart started racing and they nearly dropped the empty box they were holding. No way. This had to be some kind of fucked up joke. “Mortimer, what the hell are you talking about?”

“A fellow in a nice suit came by earlier askin’ about ye, said he was hoping to get yer name.”

Could still be a joke, Charlie reasoned with themself. Lots of men wear nice suits, Mortimer could have just guessed. “Please tell me you didn’t give out my name to a random stranger.”

“Nay, nay, I wouldn’t put me favorite employee–” 

“I’m your only employee.”

“--me favorite employee in that position. I told him I’d pass along his.” 

“And what’d he do then?”

“He gave me this. Behold.” Mortimer raised their hand from where it had been sitting just below the counter, revealing a business card held between their fingers. Charlie immediately took it, trying and failing to conceal their desperation.

The front of the card read, in a professional-looking serif font, “Feight Tax Services.” Beneath it, in slightly smaller font, was the name “Douglas Feight”, with a phone number beneath that.

“Flip it over, he wrote something on the back,” Mortimer said with the barely contained glee of someone excited to watch their friend open a present. Charlie obliged without hesitation.

A few small spirals in the corner–he must have used one of the shitty pens they had in a cup on the counter for signing credit card receipts–and then the words “My cell phone number:” followed by a different number than what was printed on the front. Charlie was beyond stunned. “Hey, uh, Mortimer?” they asked, not taking their eyes off that phone number. “The guy who gave you this…what kind of tie was he wearing?”

Mortimer chuckled. “The most garish lemon yellow bow tie you ever did see.”

It was too much, it was all too much. Charlie pocketed the card, planted their hands on the counter, and immediately started laughing. “Hoooooooooly shit,” they muttered when they finally caught their breath. “I was literally just back there fucking spiraling because I thought I came off like a total freak when I was cashing him out the other day. And he comes back here to give me his fucking NUMBER? Am I in bizarro world? Oh my god.” They took a deep breath and stood back upright. “I…I have to process this. I should get back to work. Thank you, dude.”

Once they’d managed to duck back into the stockroom, Charlie exhaled for what felt like the first time in two days. The anxiety that had been tying itself in knots in their stomach was still there, but it was lighter and more pleasant. Less of a pit of snakes, more of a flock of butterflies. They had to make sure the number was real. Had to make sure this wouldn’t get ripped out from under them when they were just starting to believe it was really happening.

They slipped their phone out of their pocket and shot Douglas Feight’s personal number a quick text.

Hi, it’s Charlie from the Plunder Emporium! My boss said you left them your number to give to me. Are you the guy who bought the cat figurine the other day?

They went to lock the phone so they could grab another box to unpack, but the motion on the screen stopped them.

Read receipt. Dots. And then a response.

I am. Lady *does* find her doppelganger very fascinating by the way.

[m00nz-writes]

Pluto - Blackened Angel chap. 6

Summary: Alyssa ventures out to stay with Vergil for the weekend to train and hone her abilities better. Everything appears to be going great but things quickly turn grim. After a demon decides to open a portal from the Underworld, Alyssa rushes into a battle she's unable to fight on her own.

A/N: Did I base this entire chapter on Pluto by Melanie Martinez? Yes, and I'll do it again. Honestly it's one of my favorite songs off of Portals and I feel like it vibes really well with Alyssa, so why not use that song as inspiration? I'm not super proud of this chapter but that's just because I literally wrote it in one day lmao. I promise the next chapter will be better!

•¨•.¸¸☆･ﾟ･☆¸¸.•¨•

Alyssa knew the dangers involved, which was exactly why she refused to tell anyone but Ethan and Sarah where she was going. They were her closest friends besides JJ, but Jamison had a habit of spilling things when he was pressured. She knew that Ethan and Sarah wouldn't tell her family because she had made it clear that she didn't trust them one bit…

Alyssa sighed as she started the motorcycle and looked back at the office before heading down the road. She wasn't sure how Vergil would react when he saw her since he had never tried to kill her but then again she was just a kid… maybe things would be different now that things had changed and he might want her out of the way so he could have easier access to Dante. She wouldn't be above him, but she hoped not.

The journey deep into the countryside and far from Whitechapel was boring and long, but as she could feel her uncle's demonic energy getting closer, she realized it was the best option for her. Vergil was terrifying, but that was why she had always had a healthy amount of respect for him… because for all his evil intentions and desire to become the most powerful demon known to mankind, he was still a traumatized man who held a healthy amount of fear deep within his mind. She knew this because Vitale was the perfect example of that; once nothing more than Vergil's human half, now given a new chance at life while Vergil remained the same hybrid he always had been.

Alyssa took a deep breath as she pulled up to the old house where Vergil was staying. Maybe he was planning to see Dante… or even attack the city. Either way, that wasn't why she was here. She was here to beg him to help her learn how to control her powers and maybe even find her place in the grand scheme of things. She was lost, and he had the knowledge to help her.

The teen got off her bike and grabbed her back, securing it in the scabbard on her back before grabbing the bag she'd brought just in case she needed to stay for a while. Alyssa sighed softly as she walked up to the door and carefully pushed it open to see a surprisingly beautiful place inside the nondescript exterior. She stepped inside and looked around with a cautious eye, just in case Vergil decided to attack her. Closing the door behind her, she looked up at the stairs to see a very familiar figure at the top.

"I'm not here to fight you," she said as the man descended the stairs with a judgmental look. "I came here on my own." she added, fixing the bag on her shoulder so it wouldn't be too heavy.

"I'm aware of that." he said coldly, his gaze fixed on her as he finally reached the bottom of the stairs and stood before her in all his terrifying glory. Somehow, he was even scarier than she remembered.

"I would have called… but you've always been out of touch," she tried to joke, offering a nervous smile before clearing her throat. "Look, we both know that Dad has a tendency to not… take things seriously, but I can't just stumble through life with the same ease that he does." she took on a more serious tone as she stared up at the man. "Please, teach me."

"You want me to teach you how to control your abilities?" he asked, sounding almost amused as Alyssa sighed.

"I wouldn't have come to you if I wasn't serious," she said firmly, finally standing her ground despite the fear she felt when he narrowed his eyes at her. "I want to be able to control myself when I use my powers or when I transform. I can't right now… all that happens is that I either get beat up or almost kill someone I care about."

"You're letting your emotions take over your mind." Vergil said coolly as he made his way to the lounge. Alyssa quickly followed him, walking just a step behind him.

"Well, yeah…" she shrugged slightly. "You can turn it off. I can't." she said before taking off her bag and putting it aside. She took her gun out of the holster and put it next to her, looking at Vergil as he eyed her curiously. "I know you don't like guns." she shrugged. "I honestly thought you'd attack me as soon as you saw me…only reason I brought it." she smiled slightly as she stood up.

"I would never stoop so low." he muttered with a small shake of his head. "Fighting a child who cannot control her own strength is beneath me."

"Thank you, uncle." she rolled her eyes and sat down, crossing her arms. "Is there any way you can teach me how to control my powers or not?"

•¨•.¸¸☆･ﾟ･☆¸¸.•¨•

Alyssa nearly collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily as she used the sword to keep herself upright. She looked over at Vergil and stood up straight, removing the hair tie from her wrist and tying her hair back instead. She picked up the sword and rolled her neck, popping it before getting back into position.

"You said this was just training." she shouted, and the hybrid smirked.

"It is. You're weak." he teased as she narrowed her eyes at him and took a run at him. She tried to get a decent hit on him, but he easily deflected it with his own sword. She landed on the ground and tried to swing at him again, screaming in frustration when she realized he was easily countering her attacks. "You're letting your anger control you again." she yelled again as she swung at him, her sword clashing with his as she struggled to match his strength. With bared teeth, she felt her body begin to quickly switch between the two forms and Vergil watched in amusement, never faltering. Eventually she gave up and collapsed to the ground, lying on the grass as she stared up at the bright sky, breathing heavily.

"I'm so used to training with dad…" she murmured softly. "He really took it easy on me, didn't he?"

"Considering how weak you truly are, I'd say that seems to be the case." Vergil nodded and she lifted her head to look at him before sitting up. "You have the potential to be much stronger."

"That's the plan." she said, pushing herself up and grabbing her sword again as she took another deep breath. "You're stuck with me all weekend, too."

"There will be plenty of time for your training." he assured her before suddenly lunging at her. Her eyes widened as she quickly blocked the attack with her sword, sliding back a bit from the sheer force of his attack. Her eyebrows furrowed as she concentrated on the man in front of her, finally pushing him away before she lunged at him, catching him off guard. He stumbled a bit and looked back at her, the wound healing as soon as it appeared before he actually smiled. "That was perfect." he said, and she smiled a little of her own.

Alyssa lunged forward and swung at him a few times before deciding to use one of his own moves against him, surprising him once again as he stumbled and she landed a good hit on him. He managed to get to his feet, looking at her with what seemed almost pride, and blocked another of her attacks. She began to use more of his skills against him, which really seemed to throw him off as she mimicked his movements almost perfectly and threw his own fighting knowledge back at him.

"That's enough!" he said and she quickly stopped and took a few deep breaths. "You should take a break." he commented as she nodded and blew her hair out of her face, putting her sword back in its scabbard before they both headed back to the house. Alyssa made her way to the living room and sat down in the chair, grabbing her bag and opening it to pull out a box of candy. "Where did you learn to copy fighting styles like that?" Vergil asked, entering the lounge as Lyss looked over at him and shrugged.

"I don't know… I thought throwing your own abilities back at you would throw you off, and it worked," she admitted, leaning against the arm of the chair as she opened the box and ate some candy.

"That's very smart." he hummed as he sat down on the old couch, which creaked and groaned under the weight of someone on it. She shrugged and ate another candy as she grabbed her phone and checked it, seeing several texts from Kimmie about why her family was asking her about Alyssa, claiming she was staying with them for the weekend. Lyss frowned and got up, heading out to the porch before calling Kim.

"Lyss!" Kim hissed on the other line as Alyssa sighed and leaned against the wall. "What the hell did you do?"

"I told dad I was staying with you in Toronto," she admitted. "I had to lie to him because I'm training with my uncle."

"So you used me as an alibi?" Kimmie asked tiredly.

"I'm sorry. I wanted to tell dad that I'm staying at Sarah's for the weekend, but I realized that Trish or Lady might show up and bother her family. You're a better alibi, since Toronto is a few hours away from Whitechapel."

"Then why not say you're going on a road trip with Nico?" Kimmie suggested and Alyssa snorted.

"I love that woman like a sister, but she can't keep her mouth shut. Look, I'll tell my dad the truth when I get back. I just need to get my powers under control."

"Fine. I'll send you some pictures to use as a good cover." she said while Alyssa smiled softly.

"Thanks Kimmie. I promise I'll get the tickets for the Warped Tour this year. You can count on me." she assured her before hanging up and screaming when she realized that Vergil had also come out on the porch without her noticing. "Please don't do that!" she wailed, running her fingers through her hair.

"So you used your friend as an alibi?" he asked and she nodded, crossing her arms.

"Dad would kill us both if he knew I came to you for help." she shrugged, her eyebrows furrowing slightly.

"Let him try." he mused, a small smile coming to his face as Alyssa giggled.

•¨•.¸¸☆･ﾟ･☆¸¸.•¨•

Over the next few days, Vergil managed to teach Alyssa how to hone her powers and actually control them just enough so that she wouldn't hurt herself or anyone else around her. Lyss found it hard to understand why Dante still hated his brother so much when he seemed to have changed so much. From all the stories she had heard, he was a ruthless monster with no remorse or feeling for those around him… yet he was the complete opposite.

The sun beat down on Alyssa and Vergil as he put them through more extensive training. It was nice to actually train with someone who didn't treat her like she was extremely fragile. Lyss smiled as Vergil tried to counter her attack as she charged him, but she threw him off by seemingly teleporting behind him with her newfound superhuman speed, attacking from behind and causing him to lose concentration for a split second. He whirled around and jabbed her in the stomach with the hilt of his sword, stunning her for a few moments and causing her to crouch down holding her stomach.

She looked up at the taller man before pushing herself up and headbutting him in the stomach, knocking him backwards to the ground as she smiled with pride as she stared down at him before stabbing the sword into the ground and holding out a hand to him.

"I finally beat you." she teased as he took her hand and she helped him up.

"I am impressed. You've made tremendous progress in these few days." he commented before both of their attention was drawn to the sound of something in the distance. Lyss frowned before grabbing her sword and running towards it, Vergil calling her name and following close behind, hoping to stop her.

As they approached the strong demonic energy, they realized it was a huge demon that had opened a large portal from the Underworld. Alyssa and Vergil stopped as they stared at the demon, the teen's eyes widening as she saw the portal while Vergil's narrowed at the sight. Vergil looked at the young hunter and put a hand on her shoulder as she looked up at him.

"You should go home."

"Fuck no!" Lyss hissed. "Dad's going to think you did this!"

"I don't care what my idiot brother thinks." Vergil snapped before picking her up and throwing her back. Lyss screamed in pain as she rolled a few feet, writhing in pain as Shadow left the ink and joined Vergil in the fight. Alyssa looked at them as she finally mustered enough will to pull herself up, grimacing in pain as she stood. She ran towards the demon, using her telekensis to summon her sword as she leapt onto its back and plunged the sword into its shoulder. She screamed as the beast tried to dislodge her, whipping around as she lost her footing and clung desperately to the sword.

"Leave me alone, wench!" the beast shouted angrily, grabbing her right as Vergil opened another portal, sending Alyssa and the demon through so he could focus on the real issue. Alyssa screamed as she fell out of the demon's grasp and hit the ground, looking around to see that it was the woods near Ethan and Benny's house. She gasped as the demon grabbed her ankle and threw her into a tree, breaking several bones on impact as she screamed in excruciating pain and collapsed. Her body contorted as she began to heal, the process extremely excruciating.

It didn't help that she was separated from Shadow, which made her feel weaker than she actually was. The demon didn't make her stronger, but her connection to Shadow was definitely the reason she was able to heal so quickly and with minimal pain, as Vergil had explained to her.

"I'm going to rip you apart." the demon growled as Alyssa stood up and snapped her neck, spitting out some blood.

"Then do it." she hissed, holding up a hand as the Ultimatum appeared in her hand. She pointed it at the demon and shot it in the chest, causing it to scream in pain and stumble back. She grabbed her sword and lunged at the creature, plunging the sword into its stomach as it grabbed her face and screamed. She growled, grimacing as the grip on her head tightened, and thrust the sword deeper. She shot the demon's wrist and it let go, its hand exploding into a mass of blood and bone fragments that splattered all over her face and body. She groaned in disgust and pulled the sword out as the creature collapsed to the ground.

"Not like this…" the demon grumbled, its breathing labored as Alyssa leaned over it, scowling.

"You're just as pathetic as every other demon I've dealt with." she hissed, pressing the gun to the beast's forehead.

"Please!" it shrieked before grabbing her with its one good hand. She scowled and tried to kick it off her, but it held on, staring up at her as she growled and shot it in the head. The beast exploded into light and ash before Alyssa took a deep breath and stepped away before something surrounded her and she quickly looked around before it grabbed her. She struggled and screamed, hoping someone would be able to hear her and maybe offer some kind of help.

"Hybrid scum." it hissed as Alyssa finally looked into the demon's eyes, her own widening as it growled at her.

"Let go!" she shouted, kicking her legs in hopes of breaking free somehow. She screamed as she was thrown deeper into the woods, her body slamming into a large tree as she fell to the ground, groaning in pain. Shadow materialized in front of her, growling as the beast quickly approached, trying to kick the jaguar away but instead she latched onto its arm and practically tore it apart. Alyssa tried to push herself up and felt her body begin to give out.

"Pathetic!" the demon shouted, knocking Shadow down and sending her back into the ink before the demon grabbed Alyssa's sword and glared down at her. "Hybrid scum should all die." it hissed as Lyss lifted her head to stare weakly at it. It raised the sword and stabbed her in the chest, pinning her to the ground as she tried to gasp for air, but struggled to do so as she looked down at the sword with wide eyes. She tried to remove it as her vision began to fade and her ability to breathe became nearly impossible.

The demon grinned at her before disappearing and Alyssa tried to scream, her voice caught in her throat as she grabbed the grass and whimpered. Her vision went completely and her body went limp as she finally surrendered to the darkness that offered her some comfort.

[phantastus]

Stanley Coleman, Alessa and Kaufman for the bingo?

OH BOY ANON....

*rubs hands together*

"obsessed with their character arc". For a character who literally never once appears onscreen and has very little solid information about them, I think Stanley is fucking fascinating. Of course, he has literally no stated backstory so THIS FASCINATION IS ADMITTEDLY BASED ON WHAT MADE THE MOST SENSE TO ME: that he is a former member of the Order who was iced out specifically because he got TOO creepy about Alessa for the rest of the cultists to handle. I think this is extra interesting because it adds another flavor of how individual Order members view Alessa/Heather, in addition to the viewpoints of Claudia/Vincent/Leonard which are addressed more directly. I know some people out there interpret him as like, idk, a creepy thing conjured up by the Otherworld that doesn't actually exist? But I think that "an actual flesh and blood human being who doesn't even care about the main plot but who is nonetheless stalking Heather around because he's the Order equivalent of someone who only goes to church because he has, like, erotic fantasies about being in love with but also mutilating Jesus" is so much scarier. I guess he doesn't really have an arc though unless you count his obvious buildup towards what was almost certainly going to be attacking Heather directly.

"constantly listening to songs/holding up like a paint swatch". HERE'S SOME STANLEY MUSIC, ENJOY: "Insect Eyes" (Devendra Banhart), "Only Heather" (Wild Nothing), "Days Without Paracetamol" (Snow Patrol), "Dreaming" (Bruno Coulais, Coraline OST), "#1 Crush" (Garbage), "Angel" (Massive Attack), "Movement of Fear" (Tweaker), "Whispers in the Dark" (Skillet), "Eat" (Force/Jarboe, The Path OST)

"I WANT TO STUDY THEM LIKE A COCKROACH". this speaks for itself honestly

"what's wrong with them (affectionate AND derogatory)". Affectionate because so me he is one of the scariest things in the series and therefore his presence in the narrative is a net positive. Derogatory because fuck him.

"I would never want to meet them". Stanley is the living personification of r/letsnotmeet.

"BITING AND KILLING AND MAIMING". BITING HIM BITING HIM RIPPING HIS FLESH FLINGING HIS BODY AROUND LIKE A DOG TOY

_______________________

"everyone but me is wrong about them". I don't think this is necessarily true within the FANDOM but in terms of mainstream interpretations of the SH series it drives me batfuck insane that the most common take-away of Alessa is that she's insane and evil and somehow separate from/hateful towards Heather as a person. This is PROBABLY because of the movie but it's weird how many people literally think she's just the Scary Vengeful Child Ghost trope instead of like.... literally anything she actually does in canon.

"obsessed with their character arc". LOOK............ [gestures helplessly at every word I've ever written about Alessa, Cheryl, and Heather collectively].

"done dirty by the fans/creators". See answer no. 1, and I do feel that interpretation sometimes seems to seep into later series installments/spinoffs even if not directly. (Supposedly in an early pitch for Homecoming, Josh was supposed to become "like Alessa" but with water instead of fire, and they were going to have a telepathic Ghost Showdown against each other???). It's just weird to see a character who is like, explicitly sympathetic (the whole evil spirit thing was literally a fabrication made up by Dahlia to trick Harry into helping her) in the narrative get boiled down in interpretations/analysis to just be Cheryl's evil shadow self or something.

"ADOPTION PAPERS". IN EVERY SENSE EXCEPT PHYSICAL, I AM HARRY MASON. C'MERE KIDDO LET'S GO TOSS A FRISBEE AROUND. IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO YOU I WILL KILL EVERYONE IN THE ROOM AND THEN MYSELF. (Harry wouldn't do that.)

"constantly going insane rotating them like a fork". See answer no. 2. I can't elaborate or this post will never get finished.

"constantly listening to songs". [eyes turn completely black, starts speaking in tongues]: "Firesuite" (Doves), "Till the Clouds Clear" (Lamb), "Where Did I Leave That Fire?" (Neko Case), "Laura Palmer" (Bastille), "GLM" (Thoushaltnot), "Ashes" (Promare OST), "Not As We" (Alanis Morissette), "Lilies" (Bat for Lashes), "Coming Back to Life" (Pink Floyd).

"they've never done anything wrong in their life". THE LAST TIME SHE HAD THE ABILITY TO DO ANYTHING BUT DESPERATELY SURVIVE, SHE WAS SEVEN. EVERYTHING AFTER THAT WAS FULLY JUSTIFIED.

___________________________________

"wasted potential". This is really only because the storytelling in SH1 was limited by default-- he's closed off and mysterious and never really gets any kind of backstory outside of very small details. It would have been neat to see more about him. Instead I had to invent a whole-ass offscreen narrative about his shitty small-town drug empire.

"popular ships for this character suck". I GENUINELY DON'T THINK THERE ARE ANY POPULAR SHIPS LEFT but I know that at one point there was a lot of Kaufman/Harry around for seemingly no reason other than him being the only other shippable man in the game lmfao. I think a better ship is Harry's BOOT + Kaufman's ASS!!!!!!!

"constantly listening to music". Why yes I DO have a Michael Kaufman playlist folder! However upon scrutiny the only songs it truly needs are these three: "The Package" (A Perfect Circle), "Dogs" (Pink Floyd) (yes, all 17 minutes of it), "Give Us the Rope" (The Protomen).

“I WANT TO STUDY THEM LIKE A COCKROACH”. LOOK, HE’S INTERESTING IN MY IMAGINATION.

“I would never want to meet them”. He’s a fucking asshole.

"BITING AND KILLING AND MAIMING". GIVE. US. THE. ROPE.

______________________________

THANK YOU FOR WAITING AND ALSO FOR READING LITERALLY ANY OF THIS. I missed rambling about Silent Hill.

[startistdoodles]

How would you rank the Pokémon Villian leaders from least favorite to favorite

(Feel free to include the Orre games)

I actually haven’t played the Orre games (YET... though I very much want to) So I’ll just rank all the team leaders from the main series 👌

Also I’ll give Rose an honorable mention since I haven’t finished SWSH yet and so I don’t really have a full sense of his plan. I do think he is delightful so far, though. Love his energy.

Another honorable mention is Colress, he’s not a team leader, he’s more of a high-ranking admin, but I still want to come out and say that he is wonderful and I love him a lot.

SO here’s the actual list, from least favorite to most favorite: (under the cut because this gets long)

Lysandre: Poor Lysandre...it kills me because I think he had so much potential as a villain, but his scheme is honestly really forgettable to me despite him having a really cool design and aesthetic. I love the orange and black color pallet, but it can’t really save him from being kind of an underwhelming villain to me. (Honestly, I think the entire X and Y plot had so much missed potential but I’ll probably save that for a different post some other time.)

Giovanni: Now from here on out, I actually really like all of these villains so it was a bit tricky to order them :’) But Giovanni is a really good team leader, and one of the scarier ones I think. Team Rocket is really threatening and shows that Gio really just cares about money, even when he has to hurt people or Pokémon to get it. His dynamic with his son Silver is really heart-wrenching and his involvement with the Mewtwo project is so despicable. And his role as the last Gym Leader is definitely one of the best plot twists in all of gaming. He’s intimidating, he’s ruthless, he’s honestly really great.

Lusamine: Yeah, I’ll include the Aether foundation president here despite not being a “team” she is the main antagonist of SM/USUM. And she is a delightfully cruel one too. She’s so self-absorbed that she had no problem pushing her own family away, including her two children who she practically disowns because they’re not “beautiful” enough for her. She’s honestly so despicable, but somehow manages to still be such a fascinating antagonist whose actions really did hurt me while playing the game. And bonus points because she has an awesome fusion with the Ultra Beast and it really shook me to my core when I first played. Her story (and honestly the whole plot of this game as a whole) is so rich and deep and underrated imo.

Archie and Maxie: I’ll put these two together since in the context of the games they’re mostly the same just a different coat of paint (ORAS made them a lot more individualized though, which is really nice and appreciated ) but they were the ones to kick off the “Harness the power of the ancient legendary Pokémon to accomplish my goals” series of plotlines, and though I think theirs is a bit more underwhelming than the other goals of leaders I’ll talk about soon, I do think it’s super iconic. They’re also one of the few leaders to actually show remorse for their actions and want to stop the mess they created. I don’t think I can pick a favorite between the two, they’re both very enjoyable in their own ways. I also love their rivalry and how they tend to dig at each other from time to time, it’s really entertaining.

Guzma: GOSH I adore this boi, he is SO delightful. Despite him not really being “evil” per se, he does have a good amount of chaotic energy and he just gives me a great big smile whenever he comes into the scene. I love how he is such a softie deep down, adopting all these misfits to be a part of his team and clearly considering them to be like a big family. They’re like a canon found family and you have no idea just how much pure joy that gives me. He’s also probably the most quotable of all the villains, giving us gems such as “It’s ya boi, Guzma” and “Y’all are stupid!”. He’s honestly such an absolute delight and I love him so much.

Cyrus: So Cyrus is one of the villains I only recently started to appreciate once I started getting back into replaying the main series and realizing just how deep his character goes. Game Freak gave this man a tragic backstory and you know I had to go and dig into it as much as I could. You can learn so much about him just by reading in between the lines of how he talks and how others talk about him. He’s sad, lonely, cold-hearted and wants to create a world lacking in spirit so that no one has to ever feel the pain of sadness ever again. But by doing that, he is getting rid of all emotions, even the positive ones. So he’s really willing to stop feeling happy if it means he won’t get to feel sadness anymore either. It’s insane and really something that stands out to people once they grow up. I know I certainly didn’t realize this as a kid. I just really feel for him and want him to be happy,,,

Ghetsis: And finally we arrive at my absolute favorite evil team leader, and the one probably no one expected! I hate him so much, and I think that’s why he's just so great. His writing makes him so devious, so twisted and terrifying that it really makes me feel so strongly about the already genius story of BW. He is admittedly one of those villains that’s mostly evil for evil’s sake and I wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s as complex as Cyrus. But darn it, I can’t feel anything but absolute loathing for this man and his twisted ambitions, the way he raised a child to be nothing more than his human puppet...the way he manipulated the whole region to nearly go against us and separate humans and Pokémon from each other for good... the way he was so close to actually accomplishing his goals...the way he was so bitter about losing to the hero of BW that he actually goes out of his way to try and murder the hero of BW2...this man is just absolutely insane and probably the most terrifying villain Pokémon has to date and I will always get such enjoyment out of beating the crap out of him whenever I go and replay BW.

WHEW this took me nearly a whole hour and a half to write, hope you enjoyed my ramblings :,)

[goosebumpsbookclub]

Say Cheese and Die

Like a skeleton at a barbeque, I rise from the dead to bring you a truly iconic Goosebumps entry: Say Cheese and Die.

So, a few of things about this one. First, it has the best title of any book ever published. Second, it has the best cover of any book ever published. (The Jacobus cover, that is, not the new one.) Third, the main character was played in the TV episode and also in my brain by a young Ryan Gosling with bad hair.

This is a story about cameras and about how cameras are very scary, or would be if they caused people to disappear. It starts with a group of friends sneaking into an old, abandoned house, a time-honored kid pastime that only occasionally results in evil cameras. Now, the thing about this house is that it’s not actually empty; a homeless man named Spidey lives there, which to their minds only makes the house spookier. (Spoiler alert: there’s no Home Alone 2-esque plot twist revealing that Spidey is actually a nice, not-scary guy.)

The camera they find in Spidey’s basement is, in the show, an obscenely large and clunky prop that doesn’t look like a camera at all. It looks like if a toaster achieved its lifelong dream of becoming a spaceship, but didn’t achieve it super well. It has dragon ears, you know, the sort of ears that would be on a dragon? And weird stubby wings with lights on the end, the purpose of which is inconceivable to the human mind. It’s absurdly top heavy and you have to hold it in the least comfortable way an object could possibly be held. In the book it doesn’t say it looks like all that, but it also doesn’t say it doesn’t; I recommend imagining it that way because it’s much funnier.

When protagonist Greg (post-Mickey Mouse Club, pre-abs) takes pictures with this goofy-ass camera, the pictures come out wrong: This photo shows his friend Michael falling over a railing, but Michael didn’t fall until after the picture was taken. That one shows his family’s shiny new car all busted up. When the family takes the car for a spin despite Greg’s objections, Greg’s dad drives like an absolute lunatic and almost gets his entire family killed, so you honestly don’t have to be an evil camera to predict that car’s days are numbered. Sure enough, it’s totaled within days. The man should have his license revoked.

It feels like R.L. Stine kind of runs out of plot right about here, so he just has Greg (future Oscar loser) run around taking pictures even though he already suspects the camera is causing bad things to happen. He also dreams about taking pictures—this is where the skeleton barbecue scene comes from, because much like a skeleton, Robert didn’t have the guts to put it in the actual story. Haha.

Things come to a head, finally, when Greg’s friend Shari peer-pressures him into taking a picture of her with the camera, and it causes her to disappear. She’s gone for two days, and her parents are terrified; this is the only truly harrowing part of this book. She reappears when Greg rips up the picture he took of her. Then Spidey materializes to provide some action and chases them, because the thesis of this book is that cameras are scary but unhoused people are even scarier.

For some reason this, not his dad almost dying like ten photographs ago, is the breaking point, and Greg (one of the white guys in Remember the Titans) and Shari decide to return the camera to the scary house, instead of just, I don’t know, handing it to Spidey the next time they see him. Greg even insists on taking it down to the basement, for plot reasons. Here they’re confronted by Spidey, who reveals his bananas backstory: He was once a scientist, and his lab partner invented the camera, which was at that point I guess just a normal camera that somehow “would have made him a fortune.” Spidey stole it, so the lab partner, who was a part-time evil wizard, placed a curse on it so that it would steal people’s souls. God, science is cool.

Spidey wants to keep Greg (soon to be Sandra Bullock’s boyfriend) and Shari in his basement forever so they can’t tell anyone about the camera, but before he can do so, Shari accidentally takes a picture of him, which kills the man. Greg (soon to be Sandra Bullock’s ex-boyfriend) posits that he died of fright. This is a patently wild choice on Mr. Stine’s part. There’s is a supernaturally evil camera that can (or so Spidey says) kill people, but the one person who dies in the whole book just drops dead of his own accord because the very idea of the camera is so extremely scary that his heart gives out or whatever. I don’t even know what to say.

Obviously the main thing about this book is that it’s shot through with anxiety over unhoused people—not concern for their wellbeing but unease over their physical existence. In popular culture, these people are portrayed as either frightening and gross or, at best, sort of magical, and R.L. Stine managed to do both here. The one moment when you might feel bad for him—when he reveals that he was cursed by a scientist/wizard and desperately wants to keep the camera from hurting anyone—is immediately undercut by his attempting to kidnap two children. Thus Spidey is both extra scary and extra pathetic, and you’re meant to believe that he’s homeless because he deserves to be, because housing is a privilege to be revoked and not a necessity hoarded by the rich, and that his death was perhaps unfortunate but mostly inevitable.

At the beginning of the book, Greg comments that the house Spidey is living in “looks like a haunted house,” which it fitting, because neither the narrative nor Spidey’s neighbors treat him as if he’s a person with a physical form and needs. “I’ve seen that guy around the neighborhood,” comments Greg’s neighbor, making it clear that he thinks of Spidey not as a member of the community but as an entity floating around a place he’s not quite meant to be. This mindset is the reason the kids never consider the morality of breaking into a place where they know someone is living and going through their stuff—the idea of Spidey having or deserving privacy doesn’t even cross their minds. But unhoused people aren’t ghosts, they aren’t hauntings, and they aren’t cartoon villains or inconveniences to be solved: they’re people who live in the same city or town or suburb you do.

If the scary camera represents the fear of being seen, of thinking of yourself one way only for others to see something different, even monstrous, it actually makes sense that Spidey is so terrified of it. When people aren’t staring at them—again, part of being so their being so relentlessly dehumanized is the lack of respect for their privacy—they’re averting their gaze. Kayla Robbins writes that the lack of direct eye contact makes unhoused people “begin to feel as if they were ghosts watching the world but not able to fully participate in it…ignored, dehumanized, and invisible.” Like Spidey, they’re rarely looked at directly, only through lenses—both metaphorical and literal—that work to remove their personhood.

I’m just saying, if Spidey had been given stable housing, he probably would have been able to hide the camera in a better place than the basement of an abandoned, unlocked house. It would have been better for him and for the kids, because then they never would have used the camera. To be clear, though, they also could have avoided using the camera by not robbing people. Honestly, they’re the real villains of this book.

Cover: It’s the best of all time. I want these skeletons to adopt me and then cook me a black bean burger, in that order. 100/5

Scare factor: I can’t even remember the scares because I got so worked up about how Spidey’s character was treated. The skeleton barbeque is decidedly unscary because it rules. The camera is only a little creepy. 1/5

Human decency: I hate these children and I think the evil camera should steal all their souls. 0/5

[cocosstories]

Tom Holland One Shot

Prompt:

Hey, a little request for Tom Holland. He and the reader are at the red carpet for his new movie, and the reader is very nervous because it's their first time at such an event. Thank you <3

The week had gone by in a blur as you got ready for your very first red carpet appearance and movie premiere.

Your boyfriend Tom, had invited you to the screening for his new movie Cherry and you were so nervous.

Not only would it be the first time you would be in front of all of the paparazzi, but it was also the first time, you and Tom had been to an official event as a couple.

He has promised you that everything was going to be fine and you would have fun but you couldnt help but worry about every little detail.

You wanted the night to be perfect, most for Tom. He had worked so hard and eas so proud of the movie and you didnt want to mess up his big night.

You spent hours in a dress shop, trying to find the absolute perfect dress for the occasion, finally deciding on a deep maroon, silk, strapless dress that would complement Tom's suit very well.

The shoes were an easier choice, going with black stilettos and finally a small black clutch to finish off the look.

The day of the premiere had rolled around and you spent most of it getting ready.

Late morning, your mom took you to get your nails done then to the salon for your hair and finally after a quick stop to her house for the perfect necklace and earrings, you went to a friends place for your make up.

You had never realized until then, just what it takes for the ladies in Hollywood to get all glammed up for an event and honestly by the time you got home to get dressed, you were already exhausted.

The doorbell rang as you looked in the mirror at yourself and you hear your mom call up letting you know Tom had arrived.

You take a deep breath and head out and down the stairs, Tom waiting at the base of them with your mom.

"Wow you look incredible."

He says in awe of the beauty in front of him. To be fair, Tom told you multiple times a day how beautiful you were but today the words came out breathlessly as he stared, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You are looking pretty incredible yourself Mr. Holland."

You reply taking his now outstretched hand as he leads you out to the waiting limo.

"Everything is going to be fine love."

Tom reassures you as the limo pulls up to the entrance of the red carpet and notices you begin to shake when you see all of the cameras and fans around.

You werent really one for big crowds but you knew it was something you would have to get used sooner or later when you began dating Tom. He had kept you pretty much out of the spotlight for the first year of your relationship but now you would be in full view of everyone and that terrified you.

Tom got out of the car first, the crowd going crazy when they see him, and he waves before placing a hand out to help you out of the car.

"I've got you."

He whispers in your ear just as the two of you are ushered off down the red carpet by a woman in a headset.

Tom holds your hand tightly as you walk beside him, stopping when you reach the first set of photographers and journalists.

"Tom! Tom! Who are you with tonight?"

"Is this your girlfriend?"

"Can you look over here for a picture?"

Voices come from what seems like all around you and you try your best to remember to smile and mimic his movements, not wanting to look stupid or make him look bad.

You continue walking down the red carpet and Tom is told he needs to do an interview with E! News with Guiliana Rancic.

He walks up to her, letting go of your hand as you stand a few feet behind him.

"We are being joined by the films star Tom Holland. You look great tonight Tom."

Guiliana says with a big smile.

"As do you darling."

"Who are you here with tonight?"

Your heart skips a beat when you hear the question. You were ready for the pictures and being seen by the fand but a T.V. camera was a lot scarier.

Tom looks back and reaches for you.

"This is my beautiful girlfriend Y/F/N Y/L/N."

He annouces, proudly showing you off.

"You look stunning tonight Y/N."

Guiliana exclaims.

"Thank you. I love your dress."

You try your best to sound completely at ease but know your nerves are showing through and mentally keck yourself.

"Thank you! Tom, where have you been hiding this wonderful woman?"

She turns the questioning back to Tom which you are eternally greatful for.

"Well, you know i just wanted to keep her to myself for a while but now i think i am ready to share her with everyone."

"Sounds to me like Mr. Tom Holland is in love!"

The excitment in her voice made you smile.

"I am. Y/N is the most wonderful person i have ever met. I am honestly lucky she even gave me a chance in the first place and I couldnt imagine doing this night without her."

A collective 'aww' is heard in the immediate vicinity.

"Well, there you have it Tom Holland is officially off the market! Sorry ladies!"

The three of you laugh and the interview ends.

"See, that wasnt so bad. She loved you!"

You head off into the theater where it was definitely a lot more quiet.

"I don't know how, i didn't really say anything. I know she could tell i was nervous."

Your voice sounded sad as you spoke. You didn't want to be the reason Tom's big night was ruiend.

"Oh love, none of that matters. This is your first red carpet and not your last if i have anything to say about it. They all know that. You don't think i wasnt nervous my first time around? Hell, i still get nervous sometimes. You will get the hang of it i promise."

He pulls you off to the side, away from everyone else and takes you into his arms, kissing your forehead.

"You want me to go to other events with you?"

The surprise in your voice that accompanied your question made him laugh.

"Every single one. I always want you by my side. I love you, Y/N and now the world knows it."

It was nowhere near the first time he had said those words to you but somehow, it felt just as amazing as it did that first time.

"I love you too Tom. But, there is one thing i am still worried about."

You pull back from his arms to look in his face.

"What's that, darling?"

He asks, a bit worried at how serious you look.

"Who is going to break the news to Harrison that he is no longer your date for events? It's going to break his heart."

You giggle at your own joke and Tom laughs along with you.

"He's a big boy, I think he will be alright but maybe we should do something special for him, to you know, soften the blow."

Tom jokes back as the two of you head into the theater to get your seats, still laughing at Harrison's expense.

Feedback is always welcomed and greatly appreciated

[abusylittlezebra]

Dissecting the murder of Annie May Lawson

(tw: discussion of assault and murder below, including images of stabbed, bloodied women- not real, of course, but if that kind of thing bothers you, scroll on by)

I've often wondered how Dale pulled off his first murder, and finally I have a working theory to serve as canon on this blog. Let me break it down for you.

Dale followed Munch and Fin from the courthouse at a distance and diverged from them after they lost track of Harrison. From there, I imagine he:

A. went back to the lab to get the items he would need to stage a crime-scene (I don't know how one goes about planting fingerprints and I'm not trying to know, Mr. NSA), as well as the murder weapon (possibly stolen from the evidence room) and gloves.

OR

B. went directly to the boardwalk and committed the murder using a knife he happened to already have on his person (possibly a pocket knife, which is somehow way scarier to me), and planted the evidence when he returned to the scene with CSU later on.

At the boardwalk, he located Annie May Lawson and subdued her from behind with his left hand over her mouth to silence her. I think the first stab was to her right breast (1), where most of the blood on her clothing is located. When he pulled back to stab her in the chest again, she deflected the strikes with her right arm, resulting in defensive wounds (2).

When she struggled, he stabbed lower, into her upper abdomen, severing her aorta and causing her to bleed out (3). Then, as she was incapacitated and dying, but before she was dead, he opened her shirt and made the slashes on her chest to replicate what Harrison had done to Rachel Nauss (4).

From there, I imagine he staged the scene, writing "GUILTY" on her forehead (one of the reasons I believe he was wearing gloves, which he could have disposed of in any number of ways) and then cleaned up and got out of there.

As for how he managed to do this all without getting blood on his clothing: some people just live a charmed life, I guess. He's wearing the same clothes when the crime scene is processed that he was wearing when he left the courthouse, so I don't imagine he changed.

I think he just rolled his sleeves up like he did when he stabbed O'Halloran and tortured Stabler. It's also possible that he knows how to position himself so he won't get blood on his clothes. It's also possible that he took his shirt off, but I personally think the image of being stabbed by a pallid, franatic man in business attire is way more frightening, so that's the direction I'm leaning.

One last thing I wanted to mention before I wrap it up: when Rachel Nauss's body is found, Stuckey says her clothes are slashed up, which Harrison more or less confirms under interrogation. I couldn't find any frames that really show her clothing, but it's stated as fact in the episode.

However, Stuckey wasn't in the room when Harrison was interrogated and possibly didn't know that he slashed Rachel Nauss's clothing because he thought she was wearing a wire. So, as far as I can tell (despite what Fin says to the contrary), Annie May Lawson's clothing isn't really slashed up the was Rachel Nauss's was; instead, Stuckey opened her shirt and slashed her bare chest.

I can only assume he did this because he wasn't aware of the significance that slashing the clothing itself had when it came to Harrison's delusions, so he thought the chest slashing was just part of his M.O., but I'm kind of surprised that this detail escaped the notice of detectives, since Annie May Lawson's clothing is only torn in the places where she was stabbed.

Honestly, I think this detail points to the detectives' tunnel vision in the episode*. Sure, if you hear hoof beats, you shouldn't immediately look for zebras, but maybe if you're seeing stripes you shouldn't rule them out.

*or it's an error in the costuming department, but let me have my fun.

[sixtyeightdays]

you reap what you sow

prompt from @mialuvscats : i hope this meets your expectations ! im sorry this took so long, i tried uploading it from my phone but it glitched and i could only get my hands on the computer today 

i’d like to say that i think if sabine and mari are there, damian and talia willl be relatively looser and not as uptight . mari and sabine are cold but loving and sunshiney. they keep talia and damian in check, essentially. which is why i wrote them in to be loose and free but able to be openly happy when they want to be, even if they are only happy around each other.

with sabine here i also thinkt hat talia will be slightly easier on damian, which also ties to the fact that he will not be as cold and uptight.

talia will be a good mother in this fic bc i want her to be and itll be ooc but its okay its my fic anyway

and the timeline is kinda messed up and all over the place sorry

that aside, have fun reading and i hope you enjoy!

--

talia and sabine are best friends, and before most of the class joins francois, marinette ruled the school after coming to paris with sabine. mari and damian are betrothed and the two are best friends. they can be icy one minute and sunshiney the next, although the sunshiney part is more mari than damian.

maybe the waynes come to paris, bc if theyre in gotham the others wont really know if the queen is back, and theyre kinda unsure why marinette is being timid and very unlike her ice queen demeanor she sometimes uses. mari is closest to jason in terms of batfam because firstly maybe she cleanses jason of the lazarus pit after helping damian using tikki's creation magic to counteract plagg's destruction one. since the waynes are here theres no point in mari hiding her queen status anymore and queue lila reveal

-

Talia al Ghul and Sabine Cheng were an unlikely combination, but worked perfectly well.

The two women were extremely close. Sabine was almost as deadly as Talia, but she made up for it with her devious mindset. She was the one who steered Talia away from doing anything wrong --well more wrong than usual-- and the one who was assigned to dish out punishments to usurpers.

The two could read each other like open books, and hence, when both Talia and Sabine became pregnant, Talia one month before Sabine, the two knew immediately.

They had debated whether or not to have their kids be betrothed, and eventually decided to let their children make the final call when their kids were old enough to understand.

Nine months later, Marinette and Damian were born. In the League infirmary, an hour after the two were cleaned and left there to rest while their mothers did the same, the two had already grown rather close.

Their baby cribs were next to each other, and somehow they were staring at each other through the walls of the crib, and were making small grabby hands to the other.

When Talia and Sabine were sufficiently rested and came to pick up their children, they were slightly shocked, yet gratified by their children. Sabine smiled and draped an arm around Talia’s shoulder, smiling lazily.

“I guess they’ll be as close as their mothers, non?” 

Talia smirked, and the two walked forwards, lifting their respective children in their arms and walking to their quarters.

-

The two mothers did not regret it. Their kids were enamoured with each other, practically joined at the hip.

By the time Marinette and Damian were 5, they had a very extensive vocabulary, since they had learned to speak Arabic, French and English. They were also extremely smart and skilled with weapons. 

Marinette was extremely adept at using a yoyo. It seemed weird, I know. But when the League was stormed when she was 3, she had taken out 4 men with her yoyo alone. Since then, she had been teaching herself how to use the yoyo effectively.

Damian preferred to use a katana. He looked much scarier than Marinette, even if the two were the same age. He had found a natural talent in using blades, knives, katanas and daggers included.

Marinette was the Rain to Damian’s Fire. 

She was the only one who could calm Damian down when he was mad, mad.

But make no mistake, Marinette could switch personalities in a heartbeat. She was one of the League’s most skilled interrogators at the age of 5.

After all, who would suspect a pigtailed 5 year old in pink to be scary?

Damian much preferred his stoic and icy attitude. The only people he ever let loose around was Marinette, Sabine, and Talia.

Talia and Sabine loved the children to an almost deadly extent, and the four were extremely overprotective of each other.

Marinette had taken to magic as well. She had been trained by many people in the League about sensing magic. Damian did not have the patience for magic and rituals. 

Marinette knew Damian was more of a ‘attack first ask questions later’ type of fighter, a stark contrast to Marinette’s ‘i will curse you and you will suffer in agonising pain for the rest of your life’ preferred type of fighting.

She’d never really liked getting her hands dirty, hence the magic. Killing people with magic was so much cleaner.

Sabine and Marinette had to leave for Paris when she was 9. For what, she wasn’t sure, but regardless of the distance, she and Damian constantly traded calls and letters. They would never go even a day without contact.

They were staying with one of Sabine’s old friends. His name was Tom Dupain, and he was an old wrestler and had worked with the League before. He and Sabine pretended to be married and Marinette’s name had hence became Marinette Dupain Cheng.

Damian and Talia stayed at the League, although all of them knew that Damian was to meet his birth father when he turned 10.

Marinette adapted her icy demeanor in Paris, never wanting anyone to get as close as she was with Damian. 

A few hours in, walking around Paris, she had met an elderly man in a red Hawaiian shirt, emitting the aura of magic. She had confronted him, and eventually, he opened up to her about the Miraculous. Tikki, the Ladybug kwami, and Plagg, the Black Cat kwami had taken a liking to her.

Marinette was apparently something called a True User, a reincarnation of the first Ladybug miraculous wielder. Plagg just rather liked the aura of death and chaos she apparently gave off, from the League.

She and the other Kwamis also had a rather amicable relationship, and she’d go to the ends of the Earth for the tiny gods, and vice versa.

The elderly man, named Fu, had also started to train her into becoming the new Guardian of the Miraculous.

Before, Marinette had been planning on laying low and not drawing atention to herself, but once she had beaten up two upperclassmen for bullying her classmate and somewhat accquaintance Nino, she had been fiercely regarded by both the students and faculty. 

As a result, she eventually grew close to Nino, and his friends, Kim, Alix and Chloe. She only ever let down her icy demeanour around them, showing the bright and bubbly girl persona she kept hidden. She wasn’t as close to them as she was to Damian, but they were all still quite close friends. 

It wasn’t long after that Marinette became the queen of her school, at the tender age of 10, earning her title as the Ladybug. Or, as Chloe liked to put it, the Lady, because she was lucky enough to ‘get a friend like her’.

Marinette didn’t protest. She rather liked Ladybugs, and besides, it was ironic and it reminded her a little of Damian, who sometimes liked to call her his Maribug. Because she was sometimes a pest, he deadpanned. Marinette had whacked him with a pillow. 

Everyone in the school feared the Ladybug. No one knew anything of her past. She was a mystery, an enigma that no one could solve. When new students came in after Marinette turned 14, everyone was slightly shocked to see their Lady change.

She was much more bubbly and approachable. Word had spread around that Marinette, the Lady, was trying a clean slate for the new kids. After all, not everyone should fear her.

Probably.

School eventually returned to what it was like before Marinette became the Lady, although she did still rule the school, she did it much more subtly, with more restraint and secrecy.

One of the new kids, Alya, had taken a liking to her. Marinette did not like her  very much, she was loud and clingy and drew a lot of unwanted attention. 

Marinette and her old crew, who had playfully called themselves her Consorts before the name stuck, had split up temporarily, to cover more ground and spread their branches.

Chloe was to pretend to be Marinette’s bully, Kim and Alix rivals, and Nino a shy recluse. They had had a good laugh about it beforehand, before watching Moana, because Kim wanted to compare the size of his muscles to Maui’s.

None of them had accounted for Adrien Agreste, who had tried to get the gum off Marinette’s seat like the naive, sheltered boy he was. Marinette had admittedly gotten mad at him for screwing up a perfectly good plan, before ramping up her ice persona to like, a 2/10, to get the newbies off her scent and scare Adrien away.

It hadn’t worked, because the boy was apparently as stubborn as he was naive. But besides that, Alya had been really grating on Marinette’s nerves, especially since she was convinced that Marinette had a crush on the model. It was not true, of course. 

Honestly, Marinette thought dryly, as Alya dragged her all over the place to.. somewhere, she wasn’t even sure anymore. But frankly, she didn’t particularly care. Honestly, the only boy she’d probably ever have a crush on would be Damian.

Not that she’d ever admit it.

-

When Marinette and Damian turned 10, she and Sabine had taken a plane to Gotham to meet up with Damian.

Damian had not been having a good time. He was very much unwanted here, that was clear. 

Grayson seemed to be the only one trying to interact with him. His father, had been trying his best to stay out of Damian’s way, which he reciprocated. Todd was flat out ignoring him and Drake just seemed to be busy all the time.

After all, who would want to interact with a grumpy 10 year old assassin?

He missed Marinette.

It was the day Todd finally tried to open up to Damian, that Marinette had arrived. No one had told him that she was finally meeting him again for the first time in a year. Sabine had left Marinette to figure out where Damian was on her own. She was more than capable of it.

With a quick scrying spell, she found him, and Kaalki opened a portal headed in the direction of Wayne Manor.

Meanwhile, Damian just appreciated the fact that Todd was finally extending an olive branch. He was lonely.

It hurt seeing his father care for everyone in the manor apart from him.

He had been walking along the gardens in the manor. Todd had joined him.

“Listen, I know it’s hard to feel accepted here. Sometimes, I do.” Jason gazed wistfully at the sky above him.

Damian was unsure of where the ex-Robin was getting at, so he just kept quiet. It wasn’t as if Damian didn’t know who Jason Todd was. Before he had come to the manor with Talia, he had read the Waynes’ files. In addition, Damian had known of Jason while he was affiliated with the League. They had never talked, or interacted, but he had known of the elder boy. 

“I just, uh, wanted you to know that if you ever need anything, you can come to me.” He finished lamely, running a hand in his hair.

Damian opened his mouth, then closed it, hesitating. “Thank you, Ja--Todd. I will.” He settled on saying dryly.

Jason visibly relaxed and cracked a miniscule smile. There was a sudden ‘swoosh’ sound, and both Jason and Damian turned around, bodies automatically going on the defensive.

Stumbling out of Alfred’s rose bushes, trodding on a few accidentally, was Marinette.

“Angel!” Damian exclaimed, moving forwards to help her forwards.

She brushed her shoulders off, looking around before freezing, staring at something behind him.

“Jay?”

“Pixie?” He asked, sounding incredulous.

Marinette rushed forward and wrapped him in a tight embrace. Jason laughed and hugged her back, chuckling.

Damian quashed down the bubbling feeling of rage in the pit of his stomach and settled for casting a frosty glance in their direction. Not that they noticed, since they were too busy embracing each other, Damian thought scornfully.

The two pulled apart after too long in Damian’s opinion, laughing.

“Angel? How do you know Todd?” Damian asked coldly, ever so protective.

If Jason noticed the sudden reversion to his surname instead of his first, he didn’t say anything.

“Oh, he came to Paris with Lia once and I cleansed him of the Lazarus pit madness, like I did with you.” She replied.

“What are you doing here?” Jason asked. Damian had forgotten about that.

“Visiting, of course!” She winked. “Now, let’s give your old man a good scare.” She pecked Damian on the cheek before vanishing. (Thanks, Trixx.)

Jason and Damian looked to each other. “Did you know she could do that?” Jason questioned. Damian shook his head before pausing.

“Wait.. how did she get into the manor?” 

The only response was the faint echo of a laugh.

-

It was time for dinner anyway, and only Damian, Jason, and Alfred knew of Marinette’s presence. Marinette had voluntary evelaed herself to the elderly butler after noticing his aura. 

It was Miraculous tainted. If Marinette could guess, he had been either one of Duusu’s, Sass’s, or Nooroo’s.

When the butler had retired to the kitchen alone, Marinette had unraveled Trixx’s magic veiling her and waved at the butler.

To hi credit, he didn’t so much as bat an eye before his eyes widened as he took her in. Marinette cut to the chase.

“Who was your kwami?” Alfred had surveyed her for a second before seemingly trusting her.  

“Duusu.” He answered.

Marinette smiled. “I’m Tikki’s.” From her perch in Marinette’s left pigtail, the red Kwami pried open the folds of her hair, waving once at Alfred before sinking back into the recesses of the bluenette’s locks.

Alfred blinked. Once. Twice. “I’m presuming you’re staying for dinner?”

Marinette beamed. “I’m gonna scare the big bat.” Alfred nodded, accepting this. Marinette clapped her hands and she disappeared again. Alfred shook his head, smiling faintly.

Conveniently, it was one of the times where everyone was there. Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. Rare these days, what with Dick in Bludhaven, Tim at WE, and Jason off being Jason.

Bruce was currently on his way back from WE, although it would take around half an hour. He had told everyone to start eating first. Perfect. 

After Marinette’s encounter with Alfred, she had reappeared in Damian’s room, where she and Damian caught up. Just like old times.

She had disappeared again once she left the room, and Damian wasn’t entirely sure where she went.

Alfred set the the table as per normal, which Damian and Jason noticed right away. They looked to Alfred, who merely winked before stepping back into the kitchen and laying out the food.

There was a screech of a chair as Marinette, disguised as Bruce (Trixx in her right pigtail and Tikki in the left) sat down. Dick looked startled. 

“I thought you wouldn’t be back till later!” Dick exclaimed.

Mari-Bruce shrugged. “Faster than I’d expected.” She answered, securing the veil of Trixx’s magic around her vocal chords, making her voice sound exactly like Bruce’s.

Jason inched away slightly from Bruce, though she pretended not to notice.

Alfred nodded at her as he reentered the room.

Everyone dug in, occasionally talking. It had been about 25 minutes before the sound of the door opening could be heard. Damian and Jason’s head shot up, thinking it was Marinette.

Mari-Bruce smirked. Showtime.

Bruce entered the room, not noticing Mari at first. Until the batboys gaped at him. He looked confused. What--?

Mari-Bruce was a pretty great actress. “Who are you?” She thundered, internally laughing.

“Who are you? I’m Bruce Wayne.” He answered, looking befuddled and frustrated.

“Impostor.” Mari-Bruce accused. 

Bruce spluttered. “No! I’m the real Bruce!” 

Mari-Bruce scoffed. “That’s what an impostor would say.”

Damian and Jason seemed to figure it out, although they probably weren’t sure which Bruce was the real one yet.

Tim rubbed his eyes. “Am I seeing double, or?” 

Bruce said, “Ask me something the real Bruce would know.”

Dick looked torn, but did as requested. “Who murdered your parents?”

“Joe Chill.” They both said at the same time. Mari-Bruce and Bruce winced, selling the act.

“When’s my birthday?” Tim asked. 

“July 17th.” Both Bruces answered.

Tim looked surprised. “You actually know my birthday?”

“No shit, Tim.” Mari-Bruce said, rolling their eyes. She rather wanted to proceed to the next part of her plan. 

“Would I say that to you, Tim?” Bruce asked slightly desperately. 

“Maybe?” 

Bruce facepalmed. In the confusion, Mari took the chance to slink into the shadows where she rewrapped Trixx’s invisible magic around her.

Only Damian noticed. He smirked. “Where did he go?” He asked, placing a hand on the hilt of his katana for emphasis. He didn’t see Marinette smile at him.

Everyone looked panicked. “Search the manor.” Bruce ordered.

Jason still looked slightly skeptical but did as he said. Damian drew his katanas and tilted it in the direction he was going.

Amongst everyone, Bruce was the most attacked. While Jason and Damian paired off, Tim and Dick did as well, ("Don’t go alone!” Was Bruce’s admonished cry), Bruce had gone alone. 

If she were being honest, Marinette had always had a grudge against the billionaire. He hadn’t saved his son, he had tried to kill his son, even though he had a no killing rule --which Marinette thought was plain stupid--, and he had left Damian to suffer at the hands of Ra’s Al Ghul.

Talia could only do so much to save her son.

Yes, Marinette was aware that Bruce hadn’t know Damian existed, but now he was still treating Damian as if he didn’t exist. Marinette knew how much Damian craved affection, even if he never admitted it.

Yes, maybe Bruce was getting better, but maybe she could.. spur the process.

So Marinette retaliated in one of the many ways she knew how.

Messing with them.

So when the Waynes regrouped in the dining room, Jason, Damian, Dick and Tim came back unharmed, and Jason had been filled in by Damian of his suspicions. But Bruce? 

He came back covered in honey and feathers, drenched with water and covered in pink slime. 

“Why is he going after me?” Bruce had questioned in that annoying voice of his, after looking over his spotless sons.

Jason shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t like you. God knows he’s not the only one.” 

Bruce looked slightly hurt but Jason didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“Maybe this person is infatuated with you and is vying for your attention.” Damian deadpanned dryly. Marinette had smacked him on the back of his head, still invisible.

But the damage had been done.

Bruce snapped his fingers and ‘aha!’-ed at Damian. “That must be it!” Bruce crowed.

“Are you that narcissistic, you arrogant plebeian?” Marinette’s normally cheery voice was dry and dripping with distaste as she unwrapped her magic.

Bruce, Dick and Tim immediately went on the defensive, shifting into a battle stance. Marinette only scoffed.

“If I wanted to harm you, I would have already done so.” Marinette waved a hand in their direction dismissively.

Dick looked confused. “You’re like, ten.” He pointed out.

Damian glared. “I am ten as well, Grayson.” 

Tim butted in. “Are we not going to acknowledge the fact that this tiny ten year old broke into the manor unnoticed?” 

That brought everyone to their senses.

They were suddenly surprised by Marinette running at Jason, full speed. They expected him to duck or whip out a weapon, but all he did was stand still as she flipped in midair to land on his shoulders.

To their utter shock, Jason grinned, even as she fisted her hands in his hair for a better grip.

Damian only smiled fondly at his Angel. She was as short as he remembered, Damian noted. 

He missed her. More than anything.

Marinette beamed, and slid off Jason’s shoulders.

“Why did you attack me?” Bruce asked.  “Isn’t it obvious, fool?” Marinette revamped her icy demeanor and glared at the civilian Batman. “I despise you.”

Bruce looked very affronted. But Mariinette ignored him, even as he continued talking and made her way over to Damian.

“Damibear!” Marinette sang, as if she hadn’t seen him less than an hour ago.

The Waynes looked as if they expected Damian to attack her just for calling him that. They were not expecting him to grin and say, “Angel.”

Mari jumped on his back, and Damian merely repositioned himself accordingly, used to this from all her previous piggybacks.

“Okay so Jason and Damian helped her get into the manor.” Tim deduced, only to notice Jason and Damian shaking their heads.

“All by herself.” Damian and Jason chorused. Marinette made bunny ears on top of Damian’s head.

She kissed Damian’s forehead lovingly, replying to his ‘i am older than you’ with a ‘yeah by like a week’, and looked to his family. 

She winked.

Then disappeared.

There was silence, and then, “Wait, we didn’t even get her name!” From Dick.

Damian and Jason were interrogated that night, and they refused to tell them anything related to Marinette.

Marinette smiled from where she had hidden in the shadows, and made her way back to Damian’s room. She curled up in Damian’s bed, drifting into sleep. She was almost asleep when Damian returned.

And when Damian pressed his lips to her forehead and whispered, “Goodnight, Angel”, a smile made her way onto her lips.

By the time Damian had slipped into bed with her, her head leaning comfortably on his chest, she had fallen asleep.

-

When the two turned 15, Talia and Sabine sat them down and told them about the betrothal. Damian had been visiting with Talia.

It had been almost two months since Lila had turned her classmates against her, not that she cared, of course. She still had her Consorts after all.

“Marinette, Damian, we’d like to tell you something. An offer? Of sorts. I’m relatively sure you will accept, however.” 

Talia smiled as Marinette dragged a grumpy Damian over to them by the head, beaming brightly.

“Oh come on, Mian! Don’t be such a grumpy banana.” Marinette reprimanded the older boy who was rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

The boy only smiled lazily, and ran another hand through his best friend’s hair, the girl making a small noise of protest. “Thats what you get for calling me a noodle, Angel.” (if you didn’t know miàn means noodle in chinese)

Sabine cleared her throat but looked at the two with amusement clear in her eyes.

They straightened. “Sorry, maman,” Mari muttered.

“Now, before you two were born, Sabine and I had an agreement. We are perfectly fine with this and the implications of it, so it is up to you to whether to accept or not.” Talia got straight to the point.

The two children looked to each other curiously before turning back to their parents. Damian nodded in acknowledgment and Sabine picked up where Talia left off.

“How do you feel about each other?” Sabine asked, watching the two closely for their reactions.

“If that’s your way of asking us if we’re okay to be siblings, since you and Lia are dating, Maman--” Marinette started but was quickly interrupted by a barely noticeably flushed Talia.

“No, not that, and we aren’t dating, Nette.” Talia aimed a playful glare at the girl, who grinned and blew a raspberry at her.

“How would you and Damian like to be betrothed?” Sabine asked, smiling at her friend and daughter fondly.

Marinette spluttered and Damian coughed. 

Talia and Sabine burst out into laughter.

After the adults got their laughter under control and after a few glares from their kids, Damian spoke up.

“Marinette is my best friend. If I had to be betrothed to anyone, I’m glad it’s her.” Damian looked away and Marinette coughed awkwardly into her elbow.

“You misunderstand us. You don’t have to be betrothed. The choice is yours.”

Damian felt slightly attacked. He really did like Marinette, and the betrothal was an easy excuse to ask her out (even if he was a 15 year old). He didn’t know if Marinette felt the same way, and he didn’t want to impose that on her, so he kept quiet.

Marinette, who was looking deep in thought, answered.

“Can I talk to Damian for a while, privately?”

Damian, despite his better judgement, winced. This was probably the first time in a really long time that Marinette called him by his full name. It was normally Dami, Damibear to annoy him, or some other weird nickname like Mr Grumpy Banana this morning.

Regardless, the bluenette hadn’t called him “Damian” for a very long time. Two years, maybe.

She walked out of the room, Damian trailing slightly behind, before stopping a few feet outside the room.

Marinette slid down onto the floor, her back pressed against it and head in her hands. Damian frowned. He didn’t want his best friend looking so.. dejected. He ignored the slight pang of hurt that the thought of being with him could get this kind of reaction out of her.

He sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder like he always did when any of them felt upset. He was happy to feel her lean into his side like she always did. 

She turned her head and buried it in Damian’s side, breathing in his comforting scent of paints and nature. He tightened his hold on her ever so slightly and she almost burst into tears.

It wasn’t that she was opposed to being in an engagement with Damian, it was just that she didn’t particularly want to be with anyone or love anyone, especially after her father died and Damian’s father abandoned him.

Her mother and aunt didn’t show it, but they were sad about their fathers. She had heard Talia interacting with her ‘beloved’ before, and it almost always ended up in tears or frustration. (Not that Mari blamed her, Bruce was kind of an asshole.)

She felt Damian’s chin press into her scalp and a hint of a smile grazed her lips. But this was Damian. Damian who was her best friend. Damian who supported her no matter what. Damian who comforted her and was there for her whenever she needed it.

Damian would never hurt her. And she was determined never to hurt him, ever, if she could help it.

She looked up and smiled at Damian. The smile he loved so much, the smile she always had on whenever she saw him, the smile that would unconsciously fly to her lips whenever she heard his voice.

Maybe it was then that Marinette should’ve known that she loved her best friend, but then again, she was only fifteen. She didn’t know what love was. But she would. Very soon.

“We accept.” Damian told Sabine and Talia when they reentered the room.

“We thought you would.” Talia replied.

-

When Marinette turned 16, her last year at Francois Dupont, six months since she’d made Lila’s time a living hell with her Ladybug (both in suit and in school), and fashion clients connections, the Waynes had visited.

Turns out, Damian and Jason got caught trying to sneak onto the Wayne private jet but instead of stopping them, they insisted they came along too, having pieced together that Damian and Jason were going to visit the mysterious tiny girl they couldn’t find the name of.

So they had no choice.

And os that leads to now, with the Waynes standing in the courtyard, elicting a growing crowd as they waited for Marinette, looking the part of scary rich people that can end your life without a problem.

Damian suddenly started running, and he hugged a girl. No one could see who the girl was because her head was buried in Damian’s chest and his body was shielding hers.

Not many people in the courtyard was surprised when they pulled away and standing there was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. After all, she was one of the most successful students in class that didn’t get fame from famous relatives. No, al her fame was hers alone.

In fact, the only people surprised were Marinette’s class, not-so-fondly referred to as the Akuma Class.  Her Consorts were the only one who knew of her betrothed, Damian. Other than that, Marinette had never been willing to share. 

When Marinette saw the other Waynes however, after hugging Jason, she rolled her eyes. Bruce, Dick and Tim stalked forwards, looking every inch the scary billionaires they were.

It was broken by Dick hugging the girl and gushing over how cool she was. Tim smiled at her and she had smiled back. Marinette flipped Bruce the bird.

“Why are you... so sunny? You definitely weren’t like that when you threatened us in Gotham. You were such an ice queen.” Tim mentioned, failing to keep the amusement out of his tone.

“What do you mean? Marinette’s always been like that, even if she is a bitch now. There’s no way she can be cold.” Alya remarked snidely.

Alix and Chloe stalked forward, raising thier fists threatningly. But Marinette only laughed coldly.

“You wanna see cold, Cesaire?” Marinette snarled, dropping all acts of being nice. 

The Lady was back. Publicly.

The silence was interrupted by Rose, who asked, "But Lila, don't you know the Waynes?"

Said Lila had been trying to slink away unnoticed, but when her name was mentioned, all attention diverted back to her, effectively keeping her in place. Her pale face and scared eyes were enough to tell that she had indeed been lying. 

Yells and screams broke out across the courtyard as the Akuma Class berated Lila for lying to them all this while. Until, Marinette interrupted, face set in a ice cold, stony position 

"Okay, blame her for lying." She started. "But why did you believe her?" 

The Akuma Class drew a blank and didn't respond. Partially because they didn't know what to say, and partially because Marinette's mere presence was overwhelmingly intimidating. Marinette sighed and pressed on. 

"Everything the Liar has said can be found faulty by a simple internet search." It was true, and the class knew it. When no one replied, Marinette shook her head sardonically. "You reap what you sow." 

She turned to her betrothed. In an instant, her icy mood was gone, replaced with the sunshiney-ness the Akuma Class had grown used to. 

"C'mon, Dami!" She gave him a quick peck on the lips, hoisting herself up on Damian's back. Damian grasped her legs tightly, as she continued to be piggybacked by him. 

"Onward!" She cried out dramatically, pointing to the school exit. 

Damian only rolled his eyes fondly at his beloved, steering themselves out, her Consorts and his family behind them. 

None of them looked back. 

If they did, they would've seen the expressions of disbelief and regret etched onto every one of her old classmates' faces. 

Not that they would care.

-

5k words yay

also uh yeah again, sorry this took so long, i kept hitting a mental block while writing this and it didnt manage to upload from my phone for no good reason :( 

but anyway its up now, i hope u find this acceptable! :)