I Wonder If There Is A Much Older Draft Of Avatar 2 Where Spider Actually Was Adopted By The Sullies

crack baby ; four

wc ; 2114 masterlist after dying, you expected to be greeted with the open arms of the void swallowing your body, mind and soul. what you didn't anticipate is waking up sixteen once more with a chance to change your fate -- but something strange is happening, why are the locks changing and why are all eyes suddenly on you ?

tw ; brief mention of death, cursing, neglect, panic attacks

prologue, one, two, three, four, tbc..

The rain outside casted a shadow of gloom over the morose city, the rhythmic pat-pat-pat on the windows creating an uncomfortable backdrop to your inner thoughts. Your head was resting in your hands, fingers scrunching at the edge of your scalp, tangling your hair with such force it felt like your mind was being split in two.

The pain was nothing compared to the pounding of your heart, ricocheting so loud that you felt it in your shoulders, in your fingertips – in each cell of your body.

What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? Those three words echoed in your mind like a beat rebounding off a drum, what is going on? This is–..

When you miraculously turned back in time, you naively believed it would be easy – you’d silently leave without fuss, everything would progress as it should and you’d live life away from the looming Manor they called home. 

So why, why does it feel like every time you try to leave, someone’s there holding their hand on your neck. Why? Why can’t you just leave? It was so easy before, you could leave the Manor, disappear for days on end and nobody would notice, now it feels like someone is always hovering around.

Every time you leave your room, every time you try – they’re there! Why? What caused this sudden shift? You didn’t do anything drastic. So why? What changed? You’d spent years of your pathetic life scrambling for any sort of attention. For them. What secret trick have you pulled to put yourself in their spotlight? And why now?!

“Fuck.” You grumble, crumpling into yourself pitifully. There is absolutely no light at the end of this stupid tunnel. One of those stupid circus clowns is always there to stand before the small glimmers of hopes that shine through, much like the sun through a window. They curtain the light, under the pretense of protecting you from the sun’s burns, but how can you live without the sun’s warmth?

The rain outside grew more intense as you spiral, a testimony to the raging shit-show inside you. There is– one option. An option you loathe to think about. Bothering her would be.. It’s not something you’d like. You’d promised yourself – all that time ago, that you would never look her in the eyes, that you’d never speak a word to her. For her sake, not your own.

It’d be selfish, you really, really shouldn’t. But still, as a precaution, you open up your night stand, reaching to the very, very bottom to pick out a letter. A letter with an address and a phone number. Just in case.

The rain doesn’t seem to be stopping, which is a shame – you’ve always hated the rain.

“What is wrong with you?” A voice calls out, and you just narrowly avoid screaming. You tilt your head with much effort, your eyes zeroing in on Damian. Of course, it’s like a fucking roster. You’re not even safe in your own room.

“I don’t know what you mean.” You respond curtly, resting your head in your hands once more. You can’t stand looking at him. You can’t stand him. You can’t stand his stupid expression, always so prideful. Always so above you. You hate him.

“Why are you acting like this? You’re a Wayne, stop being so… pathetic.” You let out a sharp laugh at his words. Again, a few years ago, those words would’ve filled you with immense joy – enough to power yourself through the loneliness that plagued your whole being. But you’re not that pathetic waste of space, ghosting through the Manor. You’re just [Name],

“I don’t know what you mean.” You repeat, not picking up your head as you sigh. The rain is heavy, you really hate rain. “I’ve always been pathetic, right?”

You can’t see Damian, but you feel the air in the room shift. It’s strange, everything feels surreal. You almost have half a nerve to–

“Why are you trying to leave?”

His voice sounds weird, he sounds concerned. That’s impossible, you’re speaking to Damian. The boy who’s refused to acknowledge you as his sibling, the one who made it very clear what he thought of you. You raise your head once more to meet his eyes. 

He looks young. Younger than you’ve ever seen him look. 

“Why does it matter to you, this is what you’ve always wanted right?” Your hands begin to tremble, why are you trembling? You’re not scared. You’re– You’re angry. The fearful knot in your stomach frays, anger burning the rope until it tightens around your organs like a springtrap. “You’ve made it very clear what you think of me, don’t try to take the high road now.” “[Name]--”

“I’ve spent my whole life, chasing like a fucking stray for something – anything. Now you wanna act concerned? I’m fucking sick of this. I’m sick of you– I’m sick of everything!” Words were spilling out before you could catch them, the raindrops on the window fueling your anger. The patting making your head fucking pound, you wanted to rip your filthy mind out – everything was loud, too loud.

“Calm down, you’re acting–” 

“Out of everyone in this house, I hate you the most.”

“Huh?” Damian’s voice was soft, quiet – barely audible over the relentless pounding of the rain.

“However much you might hate me, I hate you a hundred, no, a thousand times more.” 

You pushed past him, your anger exploding inside your very core. Your blood was rushing through your veins, squeezing until it threatened to blow. If you had half the mind to look back, you’d see the expression on his face.

The walls in the Manor had never felt so looming, so large. It felt like each painting was looking at you, mocking you. The eyes of the soulless characters locked on your form as you marched down the halls.

You had no destination, no goal, but you needed to get out. Each wall was closing in, the roof threatening to collapse – to swallow you whole, to crush you under it’s unforgiving weight. Would that be better? Would you be happier under the sweet mercy of death?

Well, you’re not willing to find out. You’re not that gone, yet.

You could barely register anything as you stormed out the Manor, you heard nothing but the ringing in your ears as you walked. 

The moment the cold rain hit your skin, you ran. Your legs moving before your brain could process it. The downpour soaked you. Your hair and clothes sticking to your body. You weren’t wearing a coat, you had some shitty shoes that you had on from earlier, your whole body felt like it was aflame.

And then you stopped. Your frustration wore off leaving only the ache in your body behind. Your lungs were being squeezed against your ribs, air clawing against the sensitive flesh leaving you breathless. Your legs were shaking, your bones too weak to hold you as you slump against a tree.

Your body hit the cold, wet ground below you. Your head falls on your knees as you cradle yourself. Curse Bruce for living in some fancy ass Manor, away from the rest of Gotham like some fancy jackass. Curse him for being a billionaire. From behind the tree you had slumped yourself on, you could hear some lingering paparazzi – eager for some sort of scoop.

It’d be funny if you jumped out and gave them a real scoop. But you’re too caught up in your own shit for any scandals.

“I really hate the rain.” You mumble, a warm raindrop falling from your eyes. Strange, isn’t rain supposed to be wet? Whatever. 

You felt pathetic. So, truly pathetic. You’d ran away like some brat having a tantrum. Whatever, it’s not like anyone would notice. Nobody ever noticed, that was how life was, how it’d always be. You were destined to be sidelined forever, and you’d finally grown fine with that. So why? 

Your ass was muddy, you were wet, cold, sad – this scenario felt oddly reminiscent, reminiscent of a time before all the neglect, before loneliness was your only companion.

“Your name is [Name]?” A deep voice asked, his tone kind, patient as he looked at you.

Rain stuck to your small form as you looked up at him, your supposed father. The man you’d seen on TV everyday, he was looking at you – his eyes full of kindness that felt unfamiliar. But–

“Where is my mom?” Your voice was hoarse, quiet – afraid. The blooming pain in your head seemed to dull under the rain’s touch, blood seeping down your forehead, dripping down your nose – mingling with the heavy precipitation. The lights from the blaring sirens were shadowed by the man before you, the man who was looking down at you with something akin to pity. 

The teddy bear in your hands was unsalvageable. Between the missing eye, limbs, and now the rain that had drenched it. It was a hard thrust away from falling apart, but it rested in your palms nonetheless. Your fingers curling into the flat, synthetic fur as though it were your only tether to reality.

He slowly kneeled down before you, reaching eye-to-eye before extending his hand. “My name is Bruce, I’ll take care of you and your mother, I promise.” He smiled, he looked so much more human now, he was no longer an untouchable figure, no longer would you have to touch the warm screen of your TV, quietly pleading for him to save you. He was looking at you now, and he’d never look away.

You took his hand.

“Fuck this.” You huff, standing up with way too much effort, your joints still aching because of your little escapade. You weren’t going to sit around and wait for him to hold your hand again, you weren’t going to have him sign anything or give you anything – why should you rely on him? He’s given you nothing. You owe him nothing.

Your wet hand instinctively goes to your pocket, taking out the card with the address. The heavy downpour immediately enveloped the laminated card. Your throat felt heavy immediately as you reread the words on it, soaking in each letter. Swallowing back your nausea, you begin running again – this time, with a purpose.

It was rare for Bruce to lose his composure, but as he stared into your empty room – he felt his control fraying. 

“You’re sure they’re not hiding somewhere else?” He managed to keep his voice calm, despite the pounding of his heart. His eyes scanned your room. So small, he really needs to upgrade it.

“No, Master Bruce, they.. can’t be found anywhere else.” Alfred said, his expression uncharacteristically tense as he stared at the black curls at the back of Bruce’s head. 

Bruce was beginning to feel a sense of dread come upon him.

When Damian came into his study, looking strangely panicked – that was strike one, the moment your name left the young boy’s mouth, Bruce was up and practically sprinting to your room. Strike two.

And strike three was the lack of you in your space. The lack of you in the Manor. He had everyone look around, check every nook and cranny, but you were nowhere to be found. He had told you not to go out without telling him. 

But it’s fine, he is the world’s greatest detective. No need to panic.

Taking a tentative step forward, Bruce took a moment to absorb your space, your personality. The posters on the walls, the trinkets littering your shelves, the small imperfections that discerned you.

And then his eyes fell upon it, your teddy bear. “I thought they threw this out.” Bruce mumbled, his eyes flashing to that rainy day when he had met your cold eyes, eyes too haunted to belong to a child. How could he let that child leave when he had promised to take care of you? You and your mother.

Alarm bells rang in his mind, distantly, he could hear Tim and Cass theorise your where-a-bouts. But–

“Alfred, do you remember where we sent her?” Bruce asked slowly, picking up the teddy bear gently – taking in the ruined toy, a testament to the child you were. To the child you are, his thumb running over the messy stitch marks, no doubt done by you. You had the money of Bruce Wayne at your disposal yet you insisted on keeping this trash? The reminder of your impoverished days? He couldn’t understand it, but then again, he’d never be able to understand you.

Not unless he had an actual conversation, as father and child.

“..Yes, I shall send you the details.” Alfred asked after a pause, his eyes strangely distant as he looked at the window, at the rain droplets racing down. “Please, Master Bruce, be swift.”

sorry for neglecting yall i was tryna make the book immersive ;3

dookie chapter because i am simultaniously studying for my health and social exam

tags; (asked to be added thru dms)

@estreiiuh @beyondblissxoxo @jjsmeowthie @vanessa-boo @delias-stuff @d3nnji @wizzerreblogs @lilyalone @strawbrysapphic @regulus-things @iimichie @meepmoopbadabeepboop @buckturd @eloriis @xoxossam @verypersonaldazzel @froggy-voidd @shycreatorreview @wassupbroski55555 @eyeless-kun @anakilusmos @devotedlyshamelessdetective @peehall @bigeyedbaby @chaeugwi

@estreiiuh @beyondblissxoxo @jjsmeowthie @vanessa-boo @delias-stuff @d3nnji @wizzerreblogs @lilyalone @strawbrysapphic @regulus-things @iimichie @buckturd @eloriis @wassupbroski55555 @eyeless-kun @anakilusmos @peehall @bigeyedbaby @chaeugwi

ill get around to adding everyone to the taglist .

For baker!Reader, I'm just imagining Tim hiding the fact he found where Y/N was.

Erasing all evidence that he found Reader. Making sure Barbara can't see that he found them and purposely makes sure the recognition software doesn't pick up Y/N. But he still watches. Still searches. Even starts planning on going to Europe and 'end up' in Paris.

Only for one of the other's to grow suspicious and take Tim's back up phone he's suddenly using more frequently. Revealing that Tim damn well knew where their missing sibling ran off to. Tim is dragged off his bed and through the halls, probably by Dick. Dick screaming and hollering "How could you not tell us!" and "We're all so worried and you're keeping secrets?!?!"

Only for Tim to start shouting back about how none of them deserved the Reader. How he didn't deserve them, either. How it'd be unfair to drag them back and ruin their life. Again!

"Y/N is happy! They're happy- and it's because we're not in their life anymore! We'll ruin them if we drag them back! I knew you'd over react! And I knew you'd want to make a mad dash over and tear apart everything they built for themselves, not even caring if it hurts Y/N!!! You're too focused on your guilt that you still don't see them as a person! Just a way to force things to go back to how they were. Because you think Y/N will be happy to do so if you just pay attention this time! That's not how people react- nor is it how they think!"

Tim being the only Yandere there that's aware that dragging the Reader back could make it easy to hate the Bat Family. Mind you, he's still planning on how to bring the Reader back; just trying to get it to be of their own free will. Or, at least, with the understanding that things have changed on a larger scale and it's less to do with guilt (only for Tim at the moment) and more to do with how he actually wants to get to know his sibling now.

Tim’s Secret, and the Night Everything Fell Apart

The Batcave was dark, silent except for the rhythmic clicking of keys. Screens flickered low blue light over Tim’s face, eyes red from too many sleepless nights, too many tabs open.

And in the corner of the screen—minimized, encrypted, and hidden behind five layers of false protocols—was a livestream of a quaint little Parisian bakery.

You stood behind the counter, apron dusted with flour, cheeks flushed from the heat of the ovens. Smiling. Talking to customers. Alive. Happy.

Tim watched you every night.

He’d found you six months ago. A lucky glimpse on a tourist’s Instagram, face nearly turned from the camera. The bakery’s name blurred in the background. But he had known it was you.

His fingers had trembled on the keyboard that night.

He’d disabled every facial recognition alert. Set up firewalls Barbara wouldn’t notice. Even rerouted signals so no GPS pings would appear. He had a second phone now. One that only ever showed you.

He hadn’t told anyone. Not Bruce. Not Dick. Not even Alfred.

They didn’t deserve it.

But Tim still watched.

He knew your morning routine. The way you'd open the shop with headphones in, humming along to music. The way you’d place tiny chocolate hearts on your cakes—like the ones you used to make back at the Manor, the ones they never appreciated.

And he planned. He planned carefully. If he ever ran into you, it would be accidental. Casual. Maybe at a café across the street. Maybe he'd ask for a menu, pretending not to know who you were.

Maybe you'd talk. Maybe you'd smile at him again. Maybe you’d forgive him.

But his plan shattered the moment Dick burst into his room.

“WHERE IS SHE?!”

Tim blinked, sitting up too slowly. His backup phone was gone—ripped right off the desk while he had been in the shower minutes ago.

Dick stood there, shaking with rage, backup phone gripped in his hand.

“You knew, Tim. You knew where she was this whole damn time?!”

Tim’s heart dropped. He lunged for the phone. “Give that back!”

But Dick shoved him back, dragging him out of his room by the collar.

"BRUCE!" Dick shouted, voice booming through the halls. "JASON! DAMIAN! Get down here—Tim KNEW! He knew where Y/N is!"

Jason was the first down, yanking out an earbud. “He what?”

Damian’s boots slammed down the stairs, face dark with something unreadable. Bruce emerged from the study, all calm tension and silence.

“Explain,” Bruce said sharply.

But Dick didn’t wait. He shoved Tim in front of them all, shoving the phone into Bruce’s chest. The livestream was paused, frozen on your smiling face in the bakery.

Tim yanked away from Dick’s grip, chest heaving.

“I had to hide it!” he snapped. “Because look at you! You’re all doing it again! Treating Y/N like she’s an object you’re entitled to just because you missed her!”

“We could’ve gone to her—” Jason began.

“Exactly!” Tim yelled. “You would’ve rushed to her! Torn through her life like a wrecking ball and expected her to just be okay with it! That’s what you always do!”

The room fell deadly silent.

Tim’s voice cracked now, raw and real: “Y/N is happy. She’s finally living without trying to earn love that should’ve been given to her. She’s smiling. She has friends. She has a life. And you—we—we’d destroy that if we tried to drag her back.”

Damian's fists were clenched. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry…”

“Sorry? You called her a cockroach,” Tim spat, eyes blazing. “You all laughed when she tried to bake for us. You all left her out and then acted surprised when she vanished.”

Bruce looked like stone, unmoving—but his fingers tightened around the phone.

Tim turned slowly, bitter exhaustion in every word now.

“You want to find her because you feel guilty. I want to find her because I miss her. Because I want to know her again. Not the version we ignored. The real her. But dragging her back here would kill everything she built.”

He looked at the screen. At your smile.

“I’m not ready to do that to her. Not again.”

They all stood there, stunned. Guilty. Silent.

And none of them—not a single one of them—could argue with what he said.

Not because they disagreed.

But because it was true.

The Cowper's neighborgs AU (the Marina situation)

In this AU Penelope wasn't as close to the Bridgerton as she is in the original. Because they're not neightborgs, El and Pen never got really close. I still think that she fell for Colin because both in the TV series and in the show they met by accident while they were children, the only difference is that since she didn't get to know him they didn't became friend until way later.

So back to the Marina situation, I think that since they weren't as close she wouldn't have reveal Marina's secret on Lady Whistledown BUT she would have tried to convince her not to do it because it wasn't right and she still liked Colin and he didn't deserve to be deceived like that. So we still had the speach were Marina told Penelope to give up because Colin didn't see her like a woman.

I like to think that by then Cressida and Penelope had grown closer so this time she went to Cressida and told her what happen. Cressida started the rumor of Marina being pregnant. Penelope didn't tell her anything but Cressida wasn't stupid she noticed more things especialy now that she spend more time at the Featherington's house. Then Penelope had to report it in the whistledown afterward.

Cressida never liked Marina. She saw her friendship with Penelope as tresspassing on her relationship with Penelope. She wouldn't admit it at this point but she vallued Pen as a friend, since she struggle to make friend and since she had a bad attitude she was scarred Pen might prefer Marina. So it was some kind of revenge against her.

Forever loving the children of villains. How they are defined not of their own actions but that of their parents and have to fight tooth and nail to prove otherwise. He didn't choose who his father was but his actions define him as a hero. Forever loving this core character.

Amelia and Adhor (oc)

Tags: yandere x yandere, toxic, unrequited love

Amelia and Adhor are two yanderes

They live together in a small town far from any other big cities

Their relation is complicated

They hate eachother but they need eachother to get to the one they love

They met in theur senior year of high school

Adhor had just tranfered from another school and he was new to town.

Amelia on the other hand was born and grew up in this town.

They didn’t really got along. They were both loners and had trouble socialising with their peers for different reason.

Adhor just had trouble in social setings and Amelia...

Well... Amelia had a bad reputation that kept others away...

Adhor’s love interest is Maria and Amelia’s love interest is Diego

They’re respectivel, the pompom girl’s leader and the captain of the football’s team

And the two of them are obviously dating... sort of... you see they have been flirting with eachother for as long as they knew each other but nothing serious

Adhor’s pov

When Adhor met Maria it was like a shockwave went through him. He had spend the majority of his life feeling lonely, seeing the world in shades of black and grey and here come the pompom girl’s leader. An explosing of colors, in her appearance and her personnality. She helped him pick up a book than had sliped from his hand. They looked into eachother’s eyes and Adhor had never seen someone as beautifull as her. She said sorry and her voice sounded like birds singing, she told him her name and it was wonderfull how well it suited her. She was the sun, he was the moon. They were meant to be together.

Amelia’s pov

Amelia grew up in this small town. She knew all of those people. All their hopes, dreams and secrets... she learn how to be discret because everytime someone would attract attention something horrible would happen to them. One time her father won the lotterie and the next day he was gone. Her mom started drinking and in an impulsive decision she took Amelia in the car and tried to drive toward the next big city while drunk. Well Amelia lost her mother and she had to stay under intense medical care for a few weeks. During those days the only one who came to visit was Diego.

Diego~

He brought her flowers... no one ever brought her flowers. He was so nice to her, he never looked down on her because of her looks. He was handsome and cute and athletic and... perfect. If only his cute attentions stayed the same after she was healed. If onky his eyes and smile didn’t always drift to Maria...

Switched At Birth (Part Seven)

A/N: What, I couldn't think of a new gif idea. Don't judge me. Anyway, my laptop has been acting weird so I might not be updating as frequently. I'll try to keep it consistent though. Also, confession time, I don't particularly like Damian but I hope I was at least faithful to his character.

Taglist (I'll add you if you ask):@luludeluluramblings, @von-jour, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @kenyummy, @bunniotomia, @ch1cky-093, @toxicthotsyndrome68, @cynniee, @icefox8155, @eyeless-kun, @c4xcocoa, @ed15fashionista, @yourtypicalhuman09, @fightmebissh. @tsuniio, @fantasyhopperhea, @type-ink, @dirtydiavolo, @colorfulgardenerduck, @seemeee3, @ironsaladwitch, @yumeravenclaw

Yandere!Batfam X Switched! Fem! Reader X Yandere!Wayne!OC

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Damian sat stiffly in the back seat, the city’s lights flickering across the window like a metronome. Alfred hummed quietly from the driver’s seat, an old jazz record playing low beneath the rumble of Gotham's streets. He wasn’t really listening. His eyes were fixed on the sidewalk they passed—the boarded-up storefronts, cracked concrete, and faint trails of ivy creeping where they didn’t belong.

Then something caught his eye.

Two figures, ducking through the narrow breach of a long-forgotten building. The glass dome above gave it away.

A conservatory.

His brows knit as he craned slightly, watching Melissa Wayne disappear through the broken wall. She was laughing—a soft, theatrical sound. And beside her—

There. That other one.

An unfamiliar student. Damian could only see their profile, but they were smiling too.

His frown deepened.

“—Are you listening, Master Damian?” Alfred asked gently.

“I saw something,” Damian muttered, still watching. “They shouldn’t be in there.”

Alfred didn’t respond. But Damian wasn’t looking for permission.

He didn’t trust Melissa. He never had.

But it wasn’t her that held his attention.

Melissa Wayne was far from exceptional. In his mind, at least.

She didn’t possess any athletic prowess, wit, or intelligence. The only thing distinct about her was her simpering visage—a perpetual mask of demureness, carefully arranged, right down to the slight tilt of her head and the way she blinked just a second too slow. She was practiced. Performed. Vaguely, she reminded him of the socialites who clung to his father during charity galas—smiles and silk gloves, hiding emptiness underneath.

She walked like someone who could only follow. Spoke like every word was a test.

She had a knack for drifting just close enough to be noticed, then fading into the periphery when it suited her. Never too loud. Never too quiet. Just... there. And hollow.

Damian had seen it before. In court. In League spies. In orphans trained to survive by becoming whatever someone else needed.

But Melissa?

She didn’t even do it well.

It was all mimicry. Secondhand charm and borrowed elegance. And yet, somehow, Father still looked at her with a kind of weary obligation, as if trying to fit her into a frame she didn’t belong in.

She bore the Wayne name, but not its weight. A bastard from a dalliance with some drug-addled harlot.

And Damian had never been more certain of that than now, watching her disappear into the ruins of the conservatory like a ghost playing house.

What interested him was the one who followed her.

The one beside her. The girl who walked into the darkened building with such a warm smile.

“Pennyworth, I’m leaving,” Damian announced, already opening the door. “Tell Father I’ll return.”

It was child’s play to slip into the shadows after them, though it would’ve drawn too much attention to follow them directly. Instead, he slunk into the green gloom surrounding a slumping side exit, swallowed by the ever-encroaching vegetation.

The conservatory loomed above him—rusted beams swallowed by ivy, glass warped and cracked like old bone. Damian narrowed his eyes at the structure. Sentiment. That’s what drew people to ruins—the desperate need to assign beauty to something that had long since rotted. He didn’t understand it.

He crouched low near a collapsed trellis, silent as mist, and tracked movement through the gaps in the stained glass. The figures inside cast shadows—one tall and poised, the other more inward. Melissa’s laugh chimed again, muffled by the thick, damp air. He could see the way she tilted her head, leaned in just so. He’d seen that posture before—a pathetic display of submissiveness from her bowed head to her large, watery eyes.

But the other girl didn’t mirror it, from what he could see. The dusk darkened his view, but still—she stood slightly apart, watching and listening. When she laughed, it was real. Not the kind you staged.

Damian studied her longer than he meant to.

She moved with ease. Not trained—nothing polished—but she wasn’t wary of the space. Or of Melissa. That was... rare.

He adjusted his footing on the soft soil, the hem of his uniform brushing against the weeds as he continued his quiet surveillance. Something about the scene gnawed at him. There was too much softness in it. Too much calm.

And calm, in Gotham, never lasted.

He tapped his comm and muted it. No reason to alert the Cave—yet. This was inconsequential. If it escalated, he’d act.

For now, he stayed in the green-dark, watching the two girls in the crumbling greenhouse. One, hollow and scheming. The other... confusing.

He didn’t know her name.

But she didn’t belong with Melissa Wayne.

She belonged somewhere better.

And Damian intended to find out where.

When the setting sun was finally extinguished, he watched as the two of you exited, trailing shadows nipping at your heels. He followed—certain he had not been detected. How could he be? He was the heir of the Demon’s Head, and you were civilians.

That’s what he thought—until you turned and looked over your shoulder. It could’ve been mistaken for you calling back to Melissa, if you hadn’t caught his eye.

An accident, he assured himself.

But you smiled. A cheeky, knowing smile.

Had you known he was there the entire time?

He froze beneath the greenery as Melissa remained clueless to his presence. As the two of you mounted the bike, he heard you laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Melissa asked, smiling but clearly confused.

“Thought I saw a rat.”

A rat? he thought, and Melissa echoed it.

“Yeah, small one. Ugly, though.” You chuckled, pushing off and pedaling away.

It was embarrassing how long it took to process your words. But when they registered, he flushed an indignant red.

That insolent little—

@gothamu_streets just saw a girl on a beat-up bike pedaling through Midtown with Melissa Wayne riding shotgun??? is this performance art or did I hallucinate that 📍Midtown, Gotham | 🕒 6:42 PM

@g0thamg1rl whoever that was biking Melissa Wayne down Crime Alley is braver than any marine. literally thought that was a jumpscare. 📍Lower Park Row (edge of Crime Alley) | 🕒 7:06 PM

@nvmfrankie wait—isn’t that the same girl she was with at that thrift shop on Canal St? she had the cutest cat socks @watchdogtruths yup. same height, same backpack. girl’s got rizz, tbh @bratbutgoth the thrift store girl??? oh, she’s deep in the Wayne drama now lmaoo

@vigilantytea mel wayne riding on the back of someone’s bike?? no bodyguards? no limo?? did she get disowned or is this the start of her villain arc 💀 📍Gotham U District | 🕒 6:57 PM

@waynewatchdog 🚨SPOTTED: Melissa Wayne seen cozy with a mystery student—caught riding two-up on a rusty bicycle in the East End. Is Gotham’s quietest Wayne heir finally rebelling? Or is this her way of going “normal girl”? Developing story. 👀 📍East End, Gotham | 🕒 7:12 PM

@sunlesssundays she’s not a mystery, I literally saw them together in Old Gotham like weeks ago @bootlegoracle same girl from that viral pic outside ThriftHaus on 9th. band sweatshirt, cat socks, huge bi energy. I remember things @bluelightgotham maybe she’s just a friend??? maybe mel wayne has friends like the rest of us and they thrift together. calm down, internet @n0tjackryder nahhhh no one thrifts in tandem unless it’s serious

@notbatmanirl bike kid got mel wayne smiling? either this girl’s a genius or Gotham’s about to burn down again. 📍St. Aubyn’s Overpass | 🕒 6:55 PM

@stainedglassx not her being the same girl from the thrift store pics 😭😭 i knew she was gonna be important @voidcandy this girl better get hazard pay. I’d evaporate under that much Wayne-family attention @gotham4thegirls melissa wayne and her thrift-core goth gf giving romcom energy while unknowingly walking into danger?? sign me UP

@gothamtabloid Melissa Wayne ditches her driver for a late-night bike ride with a mystery companion. Young love… or something darker? 👀🖤🚲 📍Broadcasted from Gotham Heights Newsroom | 🕒 7:40 PM

@cheesyfriesonmain someone tell me why mel wayne looked like she was clinging to that girl on the bike like her life depended on it. was that a date or a hostage situation? 📍Corner of 5th and Monroe | 🕒 6:51 PM

@roguechronicles Y’all really sleeping on the fact that the girl biking Melissa Wayne through Gotham was smiling. Like ma’am, do you know what city you’re in?? 🧍‍♀️ 📍Old Gotham Strip (near the border of Crime Alley) | 🕒 7:01 PM

@whoisontheguestlist Okay but… who is the girl with Melissa Wayne? New intern at Wayne Enterprises? Daughter of a rival family? Or just a cute nobody doomed to get caught in a mess? 📍Posted from Gotham City Center | 🕒 7:35 PM

A/N: This kinda felt like a nothing burger. I didn't really continue the story. anyway, hope you liked Damian's pov.

No because what do you mean they were best friends as kids and Ekko had a crush on her, and then he tries to ‘rescue’ her from Silco but she doesn’t want to go with him and they end up on opposing sides as enemies and he insists that ‘Powder is gone, only Jinx is left’ but he paints a mural for Powder as one of the people they’ve lost and when he has the chance to kill her he can’t bring himself to do it because he still cares about her and she tries to blow them both up because she views death as mercy and wants to die with him and then he gets sent to another universe where she’s still Powder and he falls in love with her all over again and he goes back to his universe convinced he can save her and he has to watch her kill herself over and over again before managing to convince her to live and join the fight and they do and he wears her paint and then she just… dies anyways and now he’s lost her for like, the NINTH TIME

Arcane writers you will start coughing in 10 days

no thoughts, just... thinking about the way Ekko looks at Powder...

The fact that Ekko went back in time god knows how many times again and again to get jinx to not kill herself only to end up losing her again makes me INSANE

LMAOOOOOO

what is with the original atwow script and pissing. Lo'ak and Spider pissing together on a rock, Spider doing it again in the cell at Bridgehead… i’m glad they scripted it out eventually but was it necessary to include in the first place lmao

“human and Na'vi urine mixing” JAILLL