Nyx riddle🤎🩵🍧

20

[sugaryewscythe]

just a reminder that this blog is run by someone who:

— is anti ICE & fascism — is pro-choice & feminist — supports trans & queer people — hates generative AI & capitalism — supports immigrants & people of color — is pro-environmentalism & social justice — supports palestine & all other territories unjustly suffering

[elsyageorgia]

Limit Feelings: You're Fair and I'm Insane

Chapter 1: Jump Off This Ledge

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist Next

 Gotham was in ruins. Again. 

Your sperm donor father, the world famous villian, Joker had organzied this underwhelming annual attack for Batman, yet again. 

 There was really no point in the whole attack. It was just another hunger toxcin that made people turn into cannaibles. 

   Again, very underwhelming. 

You had never understood your father’s love for Batman. The intense relationship they shared, of love and hate. 

 But you had never understood your father in general, and you were in no postiton to try to understand him anyway. 

  You sighed, taking a look down from the building’s ledge you were sitting on. It was a long way down, but you had done longer. 

  Besides, who was BashBomber if she didn’t jump off buildings? 

You got up, straightened your ugly purple suit and fixed your Joker makeup. How would you be the Joker’s daughter, if you didn’t look just like him? 

  You turned, facing the edge of the building. You closed your eyes, breathing in the Gotham air. 

“You know, that air is filled with pollution, right?” You opened your eyes, annoyed at the sudden intrustion of a private moment. “But you’ve obviously breathed in worse stuff than that, haven’t you Bash?” 

 You glared at the sky for a second but the sky couldn’t do anything about the fact that you would now have to put on that sugary Harley Quin/Joker voice that people associate you with. 

   “Now, now, BlueBird, that’s not a nice thing to say to a girl is it?” Your voice was high pitched and your smile strained as you turned around. 

  Nightwing - or rather Dick Grayson- stood with his arms crossed. He was amused and serious at the same time again.

  Maybe he wouldn’t be amused if you told him that you knew his real identity that he thought he had kept a well hidden secret.

  “Shouldn’t you be doing your homework, instead of attacking the city?” He’s right, you should be doing your homework, but it isn’t his business. 

  You flashed a smile. “There isn’t much homework when you're homeschooled.” You weren’t homeschooled either but you knew the Bats would surely try to look for you if you had said otherwise. 

  “But still,” Nightwing persisted. “A good education would get you farther in life than being a terrorist.” 

 “A terrorist?” You laughed. “I’m just a creative vigilante like you. The only difference is that we both stand for different things.” 

  The relationship between you and Nightwing had been like this for ages. He would come for you, trying for you to change your mind and you’d dismiss him by either fighting him and winning or you’d somehow find a way to escape the entire conversation. 

  You didn’t understand why he tried. You couldn’t  weren’t  going to change your mind, yet he still tried to convince you. Maybe he thought that you were the fickle type, the weird ones that had a sudden transformation after they’d heard an emotional speech about forgiveness and moving forward. 

   “Vigilante’s don’t hurt people, Bash,” Dick said softly. You stiffened.

 You hated it when people tried to make you feel guilty for what you did. But they could never understand that if you didn’t do as your father told you, he’d beat you and put you through ruthless experiments. 

  Last time that happened, you had barely survived, leaving with these powers. But what about next time? What would happen next time? Would you make it out alive? 

  “Oh, BlueBird, I don’t hurt people. I just engaged in activities that includ other people hurting other peoples.” You said brightly, wishing that the brightness in your voice matched that in your heart. “Its not the same thing.” 

  “Bash,” Nightwing took a step closer. “You have to stop.”

You raised your right hand, a small green orb shining on your palm. It was a warning for him, if he took another step forward you’d make sure that the orb wasn’t so small and that it was no longer an orb but a bomb that you’d throw at him.

  “You don’t want to fight me tonight,” You said. “So let me go.” 

 A scream echoed from the street below you. Another victim of your father’s crime. 

  Nightwing’s head snapped towards it. You took the opportunity to let your body give away, and let it fall.

 The cold Gotham air whistled against your ears as you fell down the building. The glass reflected your hair - no, your wig covering your face. Purple wig hair covered the edge of your vision. 

 You let your hand reach out. 

Perhaps, you were reaching out to your mother, who was looking down at you.

Perhaps, you were reaching out to God, to take you. 

Perhaps, you were reaching out to the last shred of humanity that you had once held.

Nothing ever came to the grasp of your hand though. 

 Instead, you turned, pulling at the safety and letting the parachute inside your suit spread out. Beneath you, the ground became closer and closer, slower and slower. 

  One day, you promised to yourself, one day you’d fall off a building like this one and make sure that the Joker’s lineage ended with you.

Hello Reader!

This is a new start!

I'm so happy that this chapter made it out of the dusty drafts after two months (pray for the other ones)!!! Although I'm still getting out of my writer's block and will hopefully be finishing I'm Pushing it Down and Praying soon, I do want to get this one started.

Please comment and reblog for support!!!

~Elsya

taglist: @vivi-xne, @melliezz, @gothamsirenz, @elodiebeau, @neenieweenie, @juninnyxriddle, @inwhichiwanttoread, @red-hood132, @iamthegreatergood, @aiiktay, @xirquen, @starmina, @songsofvenus, @sirmixalot69, @seqledletter

[dreamersgetnoposters]

DOWNTOWN GIRL! a classic spinoff of Billy Joel’s uptown girl.

poster girl presents… Stu Macher x fem!reader ! enemies to lovers cinema !

You weren’t anyone truly special in Woodsboro High School. I mean, you weren’t particularly popular. A shadow compared to girls like Casey Becker and her boyfriend Stu. Or was it Steve? You really couldn’t keep up with the amount of annoying news of someone getting a new boyfriend every other week.

Not to say that you’re jealous or anything! You’ve had boyfriends in the past… not lately, but it just wasn’t the right time.

“Boys only really want one thing!” You wince at the memory of your mother’s voice. She’d kill you if you brought home one of those guys! Someone whose on the football team and think they’re all that when it’s really not attractive to date someone who spends half the time on the bench rather than the field.

Snapping out of unwanted remnants from the past, you find yourself on the floor. Somehow your disassociation led you to bump a bit too hard into someone else.

A mocking laugh came from above you. Fucking Stu Macher and his annoying laugh. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who it was. All the girls fawned over him and Billy, shadows like yourself dreaded encountering him.

Waves of embarrassment washed over you as you forced yourself to look upwards at this 6’4 demon. Blues eyes stared down at you, crinkling ever so slightly from amusement.

“Sorry… I, uhm, didn’t see you there.” You cleared your throat whilst looking for the nearest place for you to die of shame.

“Really?” He replied in feigned shock, wide eyes and all before doing a breathless “aha!” like it was the funniest thing ever. Jackass

Biting your tongue from unleashing any remarks that you’d surely regret, you simply nodded. Fortunately, you dropped nothing so you scrambled to get up. Which, somehow, made the situation a bit worse.

Stu had prevented you from leaving by purposefully remaining in front of you when you had tried to walk away. He frowned like it personally had hurt him that you were trying to save yourself from any more embarrassment.

“Where do ya think you’re going?” Stu questioned. Whether it was rhetorical or not, you would rather die than answer it and have him bothering you in your class as well.

“I—“ a voice cut you off, calling Stu away from you and diverting his attention. Thank the Gods for that! Allowing you to slip past him and speed walk towards literally anywhere else. But, you couldn’t help the feeling of someone staring at you while you made your not-so grand escape.

The bell had rang for lunch. That loud, annoying bell was actually a sense of comfort. It meant that school was almost over and you could finally stop replaying that horrid memory from the hallway.

A water fountain caught your attention. It was small and barely had any ripple of water but it wasn’t anything special. The thing that made it special were the people there.

Sidney and her boyfriend Billy alongside Stu and Tatum, and always out of place, Randy.

They were in their own world, chatting about Gods know what. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. They all looked so happy to be there, to have friends.

It wasn’t like the opportunity didn’t present itself to you but your academics had socially killed you. You used to be friends with people like that. Especially Stu but overtime he changed. Turned into some asshole who only dates to fuck and screw girls over by ruining their reputation.

You couldn’t help but stare at their little circle of Elysium. A temporary paradise if anything. Yet, envy still wanted to consume you. Even when you forced yourself to look away, you still glanced back at Stu.

Wait, Stu?

He was staring back at you. All silent and serious while the rest of his friends kept talking, oblivious to the little stand-off you two were having.

Fuck, he looked hot scary. You never knew this side of Stu. The cold and emotionless one. You only ever knew the Stu who could crack jokes at any moment. The Stu who could make dad jokes seem sexy. The Stu who could bring light in the middle of darkness. The Stu who you fucking hated because he was all of those things and you loved him for that.

You bit your tongue. It was better to bottle everything up and stay a shadow rather than the girl who committed social suicide by asking out Stu Macher. And, once again, when you finally could walk away from all of it, you could feel the weighted gaze of someone staring directly at you.

You hadn’t even made it back inside of the high school before someone pulled you away. Your back hit the cold brick wall and your face was pressed against someone’s chest. A sly laugh escaped the man above and you seethed with rage.

“What the fuck—“

“Shhh, shhh.” Stu shushed you. Tilting your chin up while keeping a firm hold on your waist to prevent you from going anywhere. What the hell was this perv planning? “You’re going to get us caught, baby. You can’t be loud.” He murmured with a baby voice, cooing at your face of hatred.

“You dick! Get off of me!” Shoving at his shoulders, the offer to slap him silly was extremely enticing. Who did he think he was? Pushing you against a wall where ANYONE could see if they walked by?

Stu sighed. Looking down at you with a bored expression and dead eyes. You felt a chill go up your spine when he clicked his tongue in annoyance. “You keep staring at me, reader. Might start to think that ya got a crush, honey.” He snickered, his warmth returning quite quickly as if it was all a big joke that only he knew about.

This jerk. He was just toying with you. Like he always did. Even when you were kids, the teasing was constant. Any thought of actually hurting your feelings was discarded because you were no one compared to him.

You were raised downtown and he was uptown. Opposites forevermore. Enemies for an eternity. The feelings in your heart were unimportant if you knew deep down that he would never reciprocate them.

Harshly, you shoved him away. It made him gasp, pretending to be hurt with an over exaggerated “ouuucchhh!”. He pouted, leaning up against the wall, easily catching you once more because he was Stu Macher. Very tall, lanky Stu fucking Macher.

“What is your problem freak?! So what if I looked at you for a few seconds! I’m not guilty of anything and you have a girlfriend. What would she think about you cornering a stranger?” You asked in a bewildered tone. Your hand twitched at your side. You really should’ve slapped him when you had the chance.

“C’mon, can’t I have some fun with my childhood friend?”

“Fuck that! You haven’t talked to me in years and now you want to play the friendship card? That is so bullshit!” You finally managed escape his grasp. You moved to actually slap this blond-haired giant but he caught your hand inches away from his face.

Your face morphed into shock. Not because he caught it but rather because he moved your hand to cup his face instead. He even leaned into your touch! Your resolve slowly weakened, the anger sizzling down like nothing bad had ever happened.

“M’sorry… really. I didn’t know it mattered that much to ya. But I’m here now, right? We can go back to playing house like when we were kids.” Stu whispered softly. Looking at you with remorse and guilt, but the voice in the back of your head told you it wasn’t sincere. That he was just playing you. That he only wanted one thing. That maybe he just wanted you.

Stu pulled you closer to him until you were flat against his torso. He removed your hand from his cheek and began to slowly kiss it. All while looking at you with that half-lidded gaze that gave you butterflies in your stomach.

Maybe Stu Macher wasn’t such an asshole. After all, whats the worst that could happen dating someone you’ve known since you were kids?

I adore SCREAM! especially Stu, he’s just too cute :3 💕 my writing kinda sucks ik 💔 btw, this takes place before the murders!! not proof read + cringy

wanna see more of this poster girl? come send me some inspiration for my next modeling shoot on the cover of your favorite magazine!

@dividers4u ty for the deer dividers!!

[mavity]

fumbled the interaction

[winterstellars]

gwayne hightower learning his wife's ways

notes: headcanony mini drabble, afab/fem reader, mentions of periods, potential body image issues if you read into it, briefly suggestive, sweet and fluffy.

ser gwayne hightower is somewhat of a stranger to the world of women. he remembers little of his mother. alicent was raised away at court. his faith and honor would not permit him to frequent brothels. yes, he has lived among soldiers. he hears the crude jokes about their wives and mistresses. yes, he knows what a corset is. he wagers he could even unlace one without any assistance (how different could it be from unlacing a pair of boots?). but in the finer matters of the ladies of the realm, he must admit his ignorance.

but you, his lady wife, find in him an eager learner. where other men might scoff, he possesses only curiosity. he’ll watch you embroidering, eyes narrowed, puzzling over how you can create so many different shapes just with needle and thread. and what’s this one called? he’ll ask each time he sees a new stitch. whip stitch, chain stitch, back stitch, he’ll learn them all and file them away in his mind so that when he looks over your shoulder and says blanket stitch? you’ll give him a proud smile and a yes! that makes his chest swell.

there are some assumptions that need undoing, of course. he quickly finds that what he did think he knew of women are mere generalizations. perhaps his confusion is too obvious when he finds you deep in the pages of a book on the flora and fauna of the reach. detailed anatomical drawings and measurements adorn the pages. do you think ladies only read poetry and romances? you’ll tease (and perhaps, indeed, he had not expected you to have such scholarly interests).

then there is your daily routine: hair, jewels, perfume, layers upon layers of skirts. what is this made of, valyrian steel? he mutters whilst attempting to undo the clasp of your necklace. it takes him several evenings before he masters the art of unlacing your corset (a skill which, he insists, any good husband ought to have). does this not pain you? he asks, genuine worry etched onto his forehead. it’s the price one pays to be shapely, you reply, though that does not seem to ease his concern. the only shape i wish to see you in is this one, he’ll murmur, smoothing his hands down to your hips once your corset has been discarded to the floor. he’ll show you exactly how much he venerates your bare body when it’s free of all the vestiges of daily life.

not to mention the matter of your moonblood. he’ll find you abed with a cool cloth on your forehead or a hearth-warmed stone pressed to your back. when you teach him that there’s far more to your cycle than merely bleeding, it’s as if you’ve unveiled a dark secret. but gods be damned if he doesn’t see to it that every month hence, you’re brought warm compresses and teas to soothe an aching head before you even need to ask.

he may never come to understand all the unspoken rules and customs of womanhood. but he realizes that is not his quest; what he wishes to understand is you. he wants to learn the vocabulary of your world, to memorize each small habit and preference of yours so that he might be the kind of man who is worthy to be your husband. to study you (if only to win one of your sweet smiles) becomes his life’s purpose. how else should a devotee worship his goddess? how else ought a husband honor his beautiful, wondrous wife?

[aemondssapphire]

He’s so miserable, I need him.

[ywrt]

I know i post a lot of neglected reader and batfamily

But i just realize in a lot of fanfics Damian attacks Reader

And i just thought

Imagine one where reader goes paranoid and afraid of the whole family

Like

Bruce doesnt give a damn about them as well as the rest lf their siblings

Maybe when reader was little, they had the misfortune of crossing pats Jason and he hurts them

And seeing how no one give a fuck, that would make her even more scared of what else would they willing to pass

And when damian appears, they just confirm it all, because he was going to kill you, he was ready to do so

And the family reaction? Excuse him and dont caring about you at all

That would be the last string for their demise

It would be even more sick if Damian had lefts a mark in your body, a scar which will always be a reminder of what THAT family is capable of

Reader would be paranoid of all the family, even those who had just ignore them

They would even start being paranoid of the food alfred would give them, strating to eat little of everything to go to non of it

And with Jason and Damian? It would be worse, they would try to scape every room they saw them, just a fraction a hair, a small ring of their voice? Reader be RUNNING out, away from them

And if they had no option but to be in the same room as they, they would be alert all the time, justvin case they would try to attack them

And the cherry on top

What if reader was a meta? And what if they knew bruce was batman?

Even if duke lives with them all, he had something reader doesnt have, he has the love of the family

Bruce or batman, didn't wanted metas on his city, and he hated them, it was obvious he did no? Why else would he not care if his sons hurt them?

Plus their paranoia and fear would had them think "He will end me for sure"

With that, Reader would just straight up scape far away from the manor or just doing the job themselve

...

In short, reader be like:

Maybe alfred would do something before anything takes to an extreme but like, the damage would be already done

Reader would be too scared of at least Damian and Jason to be able to act normal around them, even when the family tries to fix it all

I can imagine Bruce in full guilt for making one of his children get to that extreme

And dont get me started with Jason and Damian dude

[aemondssapphire]

Gwayne, please come home; I’ve got a warm bath and bed waiting for you.

[samwspn]

likes don't do anything on tumblr, if you wanna help creators get their work out there, get more people to see their stuff, reblog their posts, please! it's really difficult to work hard on things, specially requests, and get 1 reblog, 2 reblogs only, it unmotivates us and it's really frustrating

[samwspn]

likes don't do anything on tumblr, if you wanna help creators get their work out there, get more people to see their stuff, reblog their posts, please! it's really difficult to work hard on things, specially requests, and get 1 reblog, 2 reblogs only, it unmotivates us and it's really frustrating

[plushiepngs]

[coquette-club]

[juninnyxriddle]

[calware]

i really love this genre of image

[xoxycodonex]

[thelotusblondie]

I hate that mf so much

[doll-ceci]