#first piece i've posted here

[eldritchberry]

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Thank you all for an incredible 500 days of love and support. I offer you: answers to questions that no one has asked.

(As always, more can be found in the tags <3)

[starflungwaddledee]

from: @starflungwaddledee to: @post-it-notes7

message from santa: "happy holidays post-it-notes! 🎄🥳 i know you very politely only wished for a few modest things- characters high fiving, or struggling in christmas attire- but i hope you'll still enjoy this given that i kinda went the opposite direction entirely! i'm an enormous fan of your work and most times you post anything i wind up browsing your art tag from tip-to-tail in enraptured delight. as such, i thought it was only fair i give back something a little more significant in gratitude for all the joy your work has given me. i knew i wanted to do a comic, so i was thrilled you already had a whole storyverse for me to work from!! this scene seemed the most obvious choice (chapter 8 of "wishful thinking" on ao3) given that i enjoy a dramatic fight scene 😂 i tried to stick as beat-by-beat to the writing as i could and worked in as many details as possible; i hope it'll be fun to see it envisioned this way! merry christmas! ~starflung 🎀🔔 "

[taffywabbit]

local silly girl tries to learn something new, dozens injured

(this caption could refer to Claire or myself and it would still generally apply)

[mintjeru]

companionship and understanding happy pride from my beloveds!!

open for better quality | no reposts

[taiyami]

Here is to 27 years of friends, cool monsters and laughs thanks to our wonderful Kazuki Takahashi. I cannot express how I hope he knew how deeply he was loved by his admirers and fans, even after his passing a little more than a year ago.

[geneticdriftwood]

lost and found pt. 1: missing pieces (dickroy wip snippet)

Summary:

"In the photo, Roy’s head hangs backwards over the arm of their old couch. His face is covered in doodles that Dick had helped a tiny Lian draw, all in multicolored permanent marker. He’s trying to look dramatically outraged, but the effect is ruined by the bright grin he can’t quite suppress. His gaze is directed off camera, to where Lian is giggling delightedly in Dick’s lap, a bright streak of blue smudged across her right cheek. The look in his eyes is full of such intense love and devotion that Dick forgets, for a moment, how to breathe."

Or: Dick thinks about the past and fails to change the future.

A/N: this is a little snippet from pt. 1 of lost and found, my wip au where Lian and Damian become friends while she's running around gotham still "dead". they get themselves stranded half a galaxy away, and in the process of rescuing them, dick and roy finally work through their issues and figure their shit out. takes place shortly after bruce returns from the time stream, pre-nu52 canon but with lian's current death plotline

---------------

The last kid from his gymnastics class has finally been picked up, so Dick heads to the staff locker room to rinse off before going home. 

Honestly, Dick hates this locker room. It’s nothing like the tiny one at his old gym in New York, with its cracked mirror, and its shower with shit water pressure, and its photos and stickers and children's artwork on every locker. This one is too big, all shiny and new and impersonal, remodeled, like the rest of the gym, with money from a generous anonymous donation. Because Bruce can’t resist shoving himself into every fucking corner of Dick’s life.

That’s probably enough bitching about Bruce for now. He doesn’t want to hit his daily quota before he even finds out what happened last night with Damian. 

Dick finishes his shower and towels off, changing into a clean pair of sweatpants and an old Wonder Woman t-shirt. Gym bag over his shoulder, he waves goodbye to his coworkers and steps out into the soft light of early evening. He throws a helmet on, hops on his bike, and pulls out of the parking lot, heading in the direction of his apartment. 

The fog of stress and exhaustion has finally cleared from his head, and he’s feeling more like himself than he has all day, but something in his chest still aches. 

His last group of the day had been the tumbling class for 5-6 year olds. It's one of his favorites to teach–– it’s mostly just playing games, and he loves seeing how carefree and comfortable in their own skin the kids that age still are. But there’s moments when he looks at them and chokes on the air in his lungs, unable to swallow the grief. 

Sophie had landed her first cartwheel today, and all he could see was Lian, running into the tower kitchen to proudly show him that look, she finally got the feet right! And he and Donna had applauded, and let her lick the cookie dough off the spoon, and listened as she’d sat at the kitchen island, kicking her feet and telling them all about some new animal fact she’d learned. 

He thinks about calling Roy and sharing the memory. But he doesn't know if he should, hasn't talked to him recently enough to know whether the thought of past joy would be a comfort, or just a painful reminder of loss.

It aches down to his bones, that he doesn’t know. The distance between him and Roy feels so wrong, like he’s missing a limb. 

Dick pulls in and parks in front of his favorite little corner grocery store. Dick wants to say he doesn’t know how all this started, but, well, he definitely does. He just doesn't particularly want to think about it.

This is his own damn fault, he knows. Roy’s been trying to reach out, lately. They see each other semi-regularly, at Justice League meetings or during the occasional mission. Out of costume sometimes, too, at someone’s birthday dinner or a West family cookout. But Dick’s had a lot of practice dodging conversations he doesn’t want to have. And normally Roy doesn’t let him get away with that, but they both know better than to start this fight in public. 

So Dick avoids being alone with Roy, and Roy stares at him from across the room, eyes burning holes in the side of Dick’s head. Between the two of them, silences have always been so much louder than screaming matches. 

Dick glances down. He’s a little surprised to notice that he has his phone out and opened to Roy’s contact, where a much younger face looks up at him. Donna had taken the picture, one afternoon when it had just been the three of them and Lian in the tower.

In the photo, Roy’s head hangs backwards over the arm of their old couch. His face is covered in doodles that Dick had helped a tiny Lian draw, all in multicolored permanent marker. He’s trying to look dramatically outraged, but the effect is ruined by the bright grin he can’t quite suppress. His gaze is directed off camera, to where Lian is giggling delightedly in Dick’s lap, a bright streak of blue smudged across her right cheek. The look in his eyes is full of such intense love and devotion that Dick forgets, for a moment, how to breathe.

It’s not like Dick wants things to stay like this. He misses his friend so much it burns inside. But he doesn’t know how to fix this. He’s afraid to try. Dick feels stuck, frozen. Why the hell is this so hard? 

His thumb hovers over the call button on the screen. He really, really wants to hear Roy’s voice.

Suddenly his phone vibrates, and a text from Tim pops up at the top of the screen.

dropping itty bitty bat off at ur place, eta 20min. if u arent home to stop me i WILL be stealing all ur zesti.

The tension of the moment breaks, and Dick is back to being just a guy in a parking lot. He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and pauses for a moment before pocketing his phone and turning to head into the store. He’s got a kid he needs to make dinner for, and he should probably restock on Zesti.

As he pushes the door open and is hit with cool air and the sounds of shoppers, a little voice in his head whispers “coward”. It sounds uncomfortably like Roy’s.

[0509-brainrot]

only 210 days until 0509 day!!! (i am in misery)

0509 JUMPSCARE TO CHEER YOU UP !!!! (But also yeah. Yeah we're all in misery in this corner orz)

[peridots-pixiwolf]

[Start ID. A digital drawing of Minos Prime from Ultrakill, who's wearing a strapless slit dress and sandals of the same deep purple. He faces towards and slightly to the right of the camera, his head is tilted further right. With one hand he gestures in a vague pointing motion, his arm folded and held close to his body. There is nothing in the background, but bracing himself on one arm, Minos is implied to be leaning against something about the height of a countertop. The background is a blank purplish black, save for three diagonal stripes in the colors of the bisexual flag. End ID]

Shading study that quite literally came to me in a dream two weeks ago, after this post apparently beamed itself into my mind

(also a few edits below the cut! they're very slight but whatever :])

[Start ID. Three different versions of the previous drawing. The first changes the tone of the lighting from blue to pink, and similarly the shading from pink to blue. The second replaces the faint black border with pink, purple and blue, syncing with the stripes in the background. The third combines both these changes. End ID]

[gxlden-angels]

do you have any thoughts on the story of abraham and isaac? my parents talk about it and praise abraham for being willing to kill his son which..... scares me to say the least, and i'd love to hear your perspective as someone who seems more well-adjusted

Where I am now, it disgusts me more than anything. The interpretation of "I'm willing to sacrifice your life if I was told to" feels like the step before "I put you into this world and I can take you out of it." It's entitlement to a child, who is an independent individual, just because they are dependent on you for survival. I prefer the interpretation of understanding the actions you're taking and the reasons why (like how there's multiple religions that don't eat pork because it was so unsafe to eat at the time), especially if it's at someone else's expense.

Where I was in the thick of it all, it gave me morbid comfort that scares me now. I had fantasies of being a martyr for the church and the idea of being the next Isaac was just so appealing. Being a hand-selected sacrifice chosen by the Good Lord Himself? Sign me the fuck up, babey!

I think if I admitted that to my family, they'd be horrified.

It's another one of those stories or beliefs where I think the majority of christians just regurgitate what they've heard. It's a point of pride and devotion, but there's no personal reflection or cross-cultural awareness of it. Lean not unto your own understanding and whatnot. It's the potential that scares me the most, like the Quiverfull movement with the Duggars or Turpins. I'm sure there's stories now, but I can't remember them off the top of my head

(Also I will be telling my therapist someone on Tumblr called me "more well-adjusted" thank you anon)

[thelassoway]

Ted Lasso S02E08 Man City || Ted Lasso S03E06 Sunflowers

[majouartings]

My finished piece for Dottolus' Dotnomicon: Grimoire of Wonders! I was going for kind of a folk-magicky vibe with my one, heh. The zine is available for FREE on itch.io at the above link, so definitely definitely check that out. The full list of artists and writers involved in the project can be found here; they've all done absolutely incredible work on this, and it's been super inspiring getting to see them all do their thing, so be sure to check them out too! Thank you again to @dotzines for having me, I had a really great time working on this and I'm so excited to see the end result!

[typewriting-robin]

The Way I See You

Victor/Robin MC (M x F)

cw: angst, nightmares, ptsd, negative self-esteem, age gap relationship (MC is 24, Victor is...god knows how old), daddy issues, nsfw (rated e), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex

Word count: 5476

note~ it is recommended but not required to read the OC/MC master list and scroll to the very bottom for Adaline, the Robin that corresponds to Victor.

Deep down inside, Adaline knew that her relationship with the leader of Crown was odd. He would catch her in one of her daydreaming spells. It would usually start with an attention grabber. A tap on the shoulder, or a rose would manifest in her lap.

“How about a magic trick to turn that frown upside down!”

Victor’s magic tricks varied. Sometimes they were card tricks. Other times he would pull impossible things from a hat. On one or two occasions he used a tablecloth and summoned a very angry Jude, who threatened to leave him bloody. 

Each time, the memories would evaporate, the way the sun would evaporate the ice surrounding a flower, breathing life and nurturing it.

Their relationship began to change rather quickly. One night she had a nightmare. It was her most recurring one. The fire that broke out at her childhood home when she was 11.

After waking up, she walked around the corridors of Crown manor in an effort to calm herself. That she was in no danger.

“Little Robin,” Victor’s voice cut through the darkness as he too wandered the halls.

“I know, I should be asleep,” she said before he could scold her.

A smile played on Victor’s lips. “I usually would say that but my Robin isn’t quite an ordinary lady. If she happens to be up, then the reason must be important.” There was a pause. “Did your typewriter get swallowed up by an alligator?”

Adaline laughed at his words and the sheet improbability of it, momentarily forgetting her nightmare. “No, of course not!”

“I’m sure you can tell me all about it while I have my boys deal with our pesky alligator. Come follow me,” he said, continuing the joke and beckoning her.

Adaline breathed in before following him. He pulled her into a room that was only just smaller than the ballroom. “Where are we?”

“Home in a home! My room, of course! Now my guest…do you desire for water, milk, tea, perhaps. Chamomile works wonders for sleep!”

“Chamomile will do.”

Minutes passed before he served her a cup of warm chamomile. “Thank you. I used to drink a lot of this when I was young. I was always a little anxious growing up, you could say.” With her finger, she twirled a lock of her honeyed blonde hair. She had inherited the color from her mother. In fact, she strongly resembled her mother rather than her father, who was tall and almost always draped in black. Ellis reminded her of him in terms of his style, but there was something about Victor that truly reminded her of him.

His chamomile tasted like the one her father made, with a dollop of honey for extra flavor.

Victor likely knew she was having nightmares but he didn’t question her nor probe her, only offering her his company and attention. And then one minute she was awake, the next, it was broad daylight and she had woken up in Victor’s bed alone, without a single nightmare.

That’s how it began.

It started off once every few days but lately her sojourns to Victor’s room were becoming more frequent. He was always so kind with her, so patient and never probing. The members of Crown didn’t seem to mind seeing her with her veil off, least of all Victor, who helped her meet Roger, who treated her burn scars with various salves and took notes on her progress.

“You have such lovely hair,” Victor said one night. The nightmares were now gone since she started sleeping with Victor. “Beautiful, beautiful hair. I can tell you take perfect care of it.”

“Thank you. It means a lot to me knowing you have such radiant hair as well.”

Victor motioned her to sit down on a chair facing a mirror where he ran a hairbrush along her long, honey colored hair while humming softly. He moved the brush slowly as if fearing he’d pluck out one of her strands of hair even if by accident, which made her heart flush with warm feelings.

The fire had singed all of her hair, marking her as unrecognizable alongside her burn marks. She had been mistaken for a servant child and sent to an orphanage. Her hair didn’t grow, not immediately as she recovered, passing off as a boy. But when she was just shy of turning thirteen, a miracle happened: her locks had begun to take root.

Adaline would refuse to cut her hair if she could help it, as her hair served many purposes. It was, to her,  her one remaining beauty, inherited from her mother. It also hid her for when she didn’t wear the veil, falling down her waist. She didn’t trust her hair with just anyone, but Victor was so unfailingly kind to her.

She saw his violet eyes focusing on her hair, now applying some kind of lotion on it. “What is that?

“This? A lotion made to make your hair glow. The queen uses it every night before bed.”

“Really?” Her eyes widened in surprise.

Victor smiled. “Indeed. And don’t worry, there’s plenty to go around.” He rubbed the lotion all over her hair, which had a rich fragrance that she couldn’t pin down.

“Does my hair have split ends?” she asked. “I don’t get it cut very often. Sometimes when I say to just trim it, the salon instead makes a mess of it.”

“A little, yes. One of the maids here is an expert at trimming hair. Allow me to help you tomorrow with that and you’ll feel as good as new!” Victor drummed on her shoulders, indicating he was done. “Ready for bed?”

“Yes.” 

Victor’s bed was twice the size of the one in her room, giving them their own space to lay. He tucked her in. “Do you want to read a story? Or perhaps I’ll tell you one?”

Adaline yawned. “No, thank you. I’m sleepy tonight.”

“Very well. Pleasant dreams, my Little Robin.”

Adaline quickly drifted off to sleep, her world sinking into the comfortable inky black shades of sleep amidst acceptance and warmth. 

…Except, when Adaline woke up, the moon still shone brightly outside, indicating she had risen far too early. Victor was asleep next to her, appearing peaceful and years younger than the likely age he was, which dispelled the notions she had grown to have about him as her father figure. Adaline stared at his features, admiring his beauty.

She slipped out of bed to use the privy. Predictably, Victor had the best one in Crown Castle, with plumbing she wasn’t even used to before cleaning up and returning to bed.

Victor had turned in the interim, facing her side, but still asleep.

She could see his beauty mark as he slept, his lips upturned. It was on his left side of his face, on the very border of his lips. Adaline recalled how her father and stepmother would kiss her goodnight. Without thinking, she leaned over and kissed his beauty mark, her lips grazing over it.

Instantly, regret pulled at her, gnawing at her insides as heat rose in her lower back. What have I done?

Victor didn’t react, as none the wiser.

Her heart raced as she tucked herself into bed, praying to every known deity that Victor didn’t stir or that he had even felt that kiss. Why did I do that? He’s a man, not your father.

Yet he was so kind to her, so funny and gracious and patient with her.

She had a fitful sleep that night, unable to get over the regret she faced as new regrets kept swarming in. Did that count as a kiss?

She left the room and got ready for her observations the next morning before Victor could even wake. There was no way she could ever meet his gaze today.

She sat in the lounge, taking notes with her pen.

“You’re sighing,” a slinky voice said, coming from the depths.

Adaline didn’t even notice she was sighing. “Good morning, Alfons,” she said, ignoring him. She had attracted his interest upon moving to Castle Crown on account of her being difficult for him to enchant.

But Alfons plopped up next to her, sitting too uncomfortably close. “You don’t appear to have writer’s block. Is it matters of the mind? Or perhaps that of the heart? Hmm?”

“Be quiet,” she said, wanting to shoo him off. Since she covered her neck in its entirety. Alfons could only be seen as a nuisance to her. “I’m trying to think.”

“Might I help you? I enjoy thinking as well.” He grabbed a lock of her hair, fingers deftly running down. However, she quickly swatted him.

“Stop that!”

“It’s shinier than usual today. And softer. Reminds me of our leader’s hair.”

“Go touch his hair then.”

“Ah, but Victor isn’t a lady like yourself. A lady’s hair is much--”

Adaline grabbed her pen and moved to face Alfons, as if ready to stab him. “Not a word more or else I will draw on your face.” She hated being teased. Roger was enough already but she benefitted from him so she was able to grin and bear it. Alfons, on the other hand, had nothing of value to her.

Then she paused in realization now that she was close to him.

Being this close to him reminded her of last night, when she kissed Victor.

“You’re doing it again. Is that a sigh I’m about to hear once more?”

Adaline sighed-- in exasperation. “Fine. I’ll ask you since you’ve kissed people.”

“Kissing? Is my Robin--”

She rolled her eyes. “Nevermind. I can’t ask someone like you anything. It’ll be better if I ask Roger.”

Instantly, Alfons relented. “I’ll stop.”

“What is a kiss?” she asked. “Don’t laugh at me. Are kisses--specifically the ones on the lips-- supposed to be romantic or sexual? Like a stimulant?” Then she realized that Alfons was the perfect person to ask this. She gripped her pen, the edge of it near her lips. “Actually, say you use your…ability on someone, yes?”

“Yes? Keep going.”

“And you kiss someone, does that count as a kiss?”

“Of course it does. They believe me to be whatever they desire.”

“I see. And what if they’re in a state where they’re prone or asleep or perhaps don’t react. Does that count, even if the one being kissed is unaware?”

Alfons rubbed his chin with his gloved hand. “If a tree falls down and no one hears it, does it make a sound?” he asked her.

“It does since it fell, didn’t it? It doesn’t negate the fact that the tree fell in the first place.”

“But no one heard it,” he said, a smile playing on his lips. “Therefore it did not happen. Not truly. That is why my ability does not count,” he paused for a beat, “to some, anyway. Are you going to write that in your little fairy tale book of secrets?”

“Maybe,” she said. “Now go away,” she said, properly shooing him off with her pen.

Thankfully, Victor wasn’t present for most of the day, so she was able to get her work done and meet with Roger for treatment and to help him with his research on her scars and the pain that would flare in her right shoulder.

When the time came to go to bed, Adaline opted to sleep in her room.

Her world turned black, then morphed into red. Not the familiar red of the fire that consumed her and snuffed out everything dear to her. She was back to that night when she met Crown, the man standing in his pool of blood. She remembered Victor was not there.

“Take the knife and slit your own throat,” William’s voice commanded and Adaline’s arm rose, knife in hand. She was powerless, out of control. Just like the man she found laying in a pool of his own blood that night.

“Please…no…don’t make me do this!” She was shaking but her arm was no longer hers in her final moments. All she could think of was how she’d never see Victor again. He’s never show her his magic tricks, his jokes, nor comfort her when she--

“Now!”

She rose from bed, touching her neck. The scars were still there but she was here. Alive. And healthier than before. “I can’t go to Victor. I’m too dependent on him,” she murmured. She thought of the kiss, the stupid kiss she initiated. He was her father figure and those were her feelings towards him.

Victor never came that night but he was at breakfast and had instantly called for her attention when she arrived in the room. “Little Robin! Over here! Yoo hoo!” Yes, he was a little embarrassing but it was endearing and a smile slipped out of her lips.

I can do this. “Good morning, Victor.”

“How did my Robin sleep?”

“Okay, I guess,” she said, lying.

Harrison, who was nearby, let out a hmph noise. 

“I have a mission for my Little Robin today. You shall accompany me to a ball tonight!” He let out a boisterous chuckle. “And you shall be my lovely, lovely date.”

“Huh?” She hadn’t been to a dance since she was a child but-- “date?”

“Of course! I asked for you, yes.”

“He wants to present ya to Queenie,” Jude said over his paper. “G’luck. You’ll need it with this clown.”

With a flick of Victor’s hand upwards, Jude’s newspaper tore into fourths, then eighths, then sixteenths.

 “I was reading that ya annoyin’ git!”

But Victor did not care one bit, running out the room and giggling. “Meet me in the courtyard!”

After she ate, Victor was indeed inside the gazebo. “Why did you want me here?” she asked. 

“Simple! Because we’re going to practice dancing together.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to do it in the ballroom?”

“Indeed, my precious and sound minded Robin, but we are going to an outdoors event, with fireworks!” He made motions with his hands and sound effects simulating fireworks, which made her laugh. After her laughter died down, he bowed to her, which made her heart race. “May I have this dance?”

Adaline was trained to dance a long time ago, before the fire. She was trained to dance at the same time she learned to walk. She had even taught her stepmother the basics. Doing this with Victor was like returning to a warm, cozy room with a blanket, coming to her like second nature. He was strong, his movements confident. Even when he danced, Victor’s personality seeped forth.

“You’re a natural. I don’t even have to recite the steps,” he said.

He never said anything bad or remotely negative to her, even when she made a mistake. “I enjoy moving with my body.” Regaining control of her body was a long and arduous process but now she was committed to keeping it that way. She danced back in her apartment sometimes. Running was primarily her way to keep her body in her control. She was swift, lithe. The picture of a Robin.

“Very graceful.”

“So are you.”

“I love a good dance, even with only the music of the outside playing.”

“Me too,” she said, meeting his face.

That was her mistake. She saw his beauty mark, the same one she kissed, and fumbled, losing her rhythm and stepping on his toe. “Ahh sorry! I lost control! It won’t happen again!”

But Victor was unphased. “It’s quite alright! We must keep practicing!”

***

It had turned out that the reason why Victor was out for most of yesterday was in preparation for the ball.He had gotten everything ready for them, including her dress, accessories, and makeup. Her dress was pink, which added an innocence to her look and Maria, her maid, had her hair in an elegant half updo. 

Victor’s words rung in her head. “I’d like to offer you a choice to make for tonight,” he said after he concluded dance practice. “I prepared makeup for you tonight, but you needn’t wear it, my dear Robin. The choice you make is up to you.”

Maria gestured to the makeup box. Everything was in here. Lipstick, rouge, powder, shadow, and makeup for her brows and lashes. But most critically, there was a liquid there that matched the color of her skin. This is what Victor meant.

She stared at the liquid for a spell, pondering if she ought to wear it. It would conceal every last one of her pink and white burn marks, mostly the ones on her face and neck. For just one night, she could live normally But…

“Use everything but this one, please.” If the partygoers couldn’t take her face, her injuries, then at least she had Victor on her side.

***

Victor gasped when he saw her. “You look positively radiant, my Little Robin! A perfect vision!” 

Adaline’s heart was already racing in adrenaline when Maria finished her makeup job. She knew Victor was waiting for her as she walked down the stairs. When he said those words, she felt like running as a reflex.

Her cheeks were completely red. “T-thank you.”

“I see you chose everything but the foundation. A wonderful choice you made!” He leaned and took her gloved hand, kissing her palm. A subtle heat bloomed from the core of her belly upwards, spreading, spreading until she felt entirely flushed.

He was her father figure, right? So why was she feeling this way? Like she wanted to both run away from and collide with him.

When they were in the carriage, she spoke up. “It’s because of you,” she began as she stared at the window, watching London’s scenery. She turned to face him. He was already gazing at her.

“What was?”

“I didn’t wear the…paint because I knew.” She met his jewel-like eyes. “I knew you’d be there with me every step of the way. You’re always on my side. Since we met.”

His hand moved over hers, causing her heart to race. “And I’ll always be.” 

His hand covered hers for the rest of the carriage ride.

The band played a lively tune when they arrived at the ball. It was an outdoors affair, with rose gardens and marble statues.

Victor wordlessly offered her his hand after he made his greetings and presented them to the Queen, a larger than life woman wearing all black. They danced slowly in time to the music, two bodies dancing as one.

“All eyes are on you,” he said.

Adaline wanted to dismiss it as something someone with a silver tongue would say. “You jest.”

“Look beyond you.”

She felt her cheeks redden, feeling glad yet again that she opted to wear rouge. “I think…” She looked beyond them at the onlookers. She recognized William and Elbert there, and not too beyond Elbert was Alfons, looking at them with a sly expression. It took every fiber of her being not to stick her tongue at him. But all were looking at them. “I think you’re right. Let’s keep dancing.”

It was just as they danced earlier in the courtyard, only in fancier dress. There was no one but her and Victor. She was used to his touch, his gaze, his warmth. They were all things precious to her. Things she thought she had lost, but now found.

Their palms touched and they swayed. Then they heard an “ahem”.

“William! My eldest and co-conspirator. How are you tonight?” Victor’s tone was not unlike a child being caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

William’s arms were crossed, his gaze playful. “How long will you continue to hold our Robin hostage?” his ruby red eyes gazed from Victor, then hers.

“I am not held hostage!” she said, interrupting their conversation, but William ignored her.

“You’ve kept her caged to yourself all day and all night. Allow one of us to have her.”

Victor pouted, but acquiesced. “You may have her. For now. Do take care that our adorable hedonist does not lay an arm on her.”

William was also an adept dancer. “I understand why Victor won’t let you go. You’re an accomplished dancer. Few can keep up with him.”

“I have a lot of deficiencies but as a Robin, I have the best speed and stamina.”

“Nonsense,” William said. “You have a surplus of admirable traits. Otherwise our leader wouldn’t be at your side the way he is. If you left Crown, he would be heartbroken.”

Adaline didn’t say anything, not immediately. “I…” William knew Victor best and he was confirming that Victor cared just as much about her as he did. “They need me at the post office but…”

“No one loves his magic tricks more than you do.” He glanced at Victor, who was standing near some of the Queen’s family, pulling a turtle out of a chalice, which elicited horrified stares.

“Oh dear. Should we do damage control?” she asked.

“Victor must reap his consequences. This is the norm.”

She laughed. 

“You love him,” he said.

His words echoed in their mouth and Adaline was momentarily lost for words. “As a daughter would a father,” she said too quickly.

William smirked. “Is that what you believe?” His eyes narrowed.

“Y-yes,” she said, showing hesitation. She recalled the way she felt when she kissed the corner of his lips. How her heart, her body, her mind were consumed by it during and ever since then.

William let her go. “Then go to him and do what your heart tells you to do.You are in control of yourself, Robin.”

Victor was waiting for her, having given the turtle to a noble’s child, who at least found amusement in his antics. “My Little Robin. Did my eldest fill your head with his pretty little words?” His palm touched her. Despite them being gloved, she felt as if they were bare.

“He tried, but I can resist him.” Her words weren’t necessarily true, and she wondered if Victor could also detect her lie.

“A valiant effort!”

They danced until the fireworks commenced, which signaled the end of the event. Their hands found each other as they sky lit up in various shades of gunpowder. “Should we go with the other Crown members?” she asked him as the crowd began to disperse.

Victor shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s too much of a risk to travel this late and with this many nobles afoot.” Adaline’s stomach dropped from his words. “But you shall be safe with me!”

“Do they want to kill us?” she asked as they departed to the carriage. 

Victor took out a pocket watch and began to time the carriage. “My darling Robin, everyone does. Now if this carriage goes over seven minutes, we must make our disappearing act.”

Luckily the carriage stopped just after six minutes. “Did we arrive?”

He looked out the window. “We did, and not a moment to spare! Now, shall we?”

They were not at Castle Crown, but at a hotel.

“I had the servants help with our booking. Will you be alright with this arrangement?”

She nodded. “I understand the travel risk so yes.”

Naturally, this was one of the most well regarded hotels in all of London, and for England, for that matter. It was opulent, with it having a royal theme. Adaline found a mirror, where she saw her makeup had begun to run and her hair had loosened.

“Are you feeling alright?” She saw Victor’s expression through the mirror. His eyebrows were knitted in concern. William’s words echoed through her ears. If you left Crown, he would be heartbroken.

She turned to him. “Yes. I’m fine. Just a lot of things on my mind.”

He sat on the bed, patting the side for her to sit next to him, which she did without a second thought. “Won’t you tell your dearest Victor what’s on your mind?”

Adaline hesitated. “Just tired,” she lied.

Victor’s hand moved to her chin, tilting it in his direction. His eyes were so gentle, yet carried a weight to them. Much like she did. “My Little Robin…you know it’s not good to lie.” So he did detect when she had lied to him.

Adaline decided to come clean. “William said if I left Crown, you’d be heartbroken.”

The words hung in the air, sucking all the energy out. “Well…he’s….” Victor began, faltering. “He’s right. I wouldn’t make heads or tails without my swift Robin. She’s become important to me. More than she’ll ever know.”

His beautiful jewel-like eyes softened. William said she loved him but her own heart had to tell her. She closed her eyes, listening to her heart. All she could hear was it drumming in her chest as the memory of kissing his lips flooded to her again. She had lost count of how many times she replayed the memory.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Victor’s soft gaze on her. So she moved forward and raised her body, her lips once again grazing his beauty mark.

Victor didn’t react, which brought Alfons’ words back to light. If a tree falls down and no one hears it, does it make a sound?”

But her lips very much did that and he was awake this time.

“Sorry, I won’t do it--”

“My Robin!” he said, moving forward, his lips meeting hers again. He was soft, caring, and warm. All traits she had thought of him since the start. His kisses taste like champagne, like a celebration. He broke the kiss, adding small pecks. “Do not apologize,” he said between kisses. “Ever. Kiss me anytime. Anywhere.”

Her arms encircled around his neck, deepening the kiss.

“Just as you did the other night,” he said, to which she stopped the kiss.

“Huh?” She pulled away from him, but he kept his grip tight on her.

“It left me in a state of shock when you did that! Whatever impulse did you go through to kiss me like that in my sleep?”

“Wait. You felt that?” she was mortified. Now, she wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and stay there. 

“Of course I did! To know my Robin loves me back…is that why you didn’t come the next day?”

“No! I mean…yes. I won’t ever--”

Victor interrupted her again. “Always kiss me. You have my heart, Robin.”

With that, she leaned in and kissed him again. Victor’s kisses were bountiful, each feeling like the sparks she saw in the sky that night, like magic. Pop. Pop. Pop.

He laid her down on the bed, her hands moving to run her fingers through his silky black hair. He was everything to her and so much more.

“My Robin,” he said.

“Call me by my name.”

“Adaline,” he said and he was rewarded with more kisses. 

She broke for air, but kept her grip on him. “My family would call me Della.”

“Della,” he said, his voice soft. Kiss. “A beautiful name.” He moved to kiss the scars on her neck. “Della…” Goosebumps littered her entire body. No one called her Della since the fire. Not until tonight. “Della, my Della.”

His words were like the wind to her, compelling her to take him. “Victor.” She deepened their kisses, sliding his coat down. She knew this was the man she wanted to spend her life with. Their relationship may have been odd, but this was what her heart wanted more than anything else in the world.

“Della,” he slid the dress off, leaving her in her corset. “I’m afraid I have to make you undergo another choice tonight. I’m sorry I keep doing this to you, my dear, but it is life altering.”

“I want to,” she said without hesitation. “It has to be you. Tonight. On the day when I’ve felt like…no. I’ve become Della again.” She unbuttoned his black undershirt, exposing him.

Victor nodded. “My Robin…er, Della--habit--a wise, confident decision on your part.” He pushed the strings of her corset, laying it beside them as he worked to free her from her chemise.

Adaline suddenly felt nervous, as if the reality of the situation was finally hitting her. 

Sensing this, Victor spoke up. “We can stop. No one will fault you for this.”

“I want to. I want you.”

“Then…” he kissed her scarred cheeks. “Allow me to teach you everything you need to know.” He placed her between the pillows after exposing her, his lips leaving no place unkissed. Every scar, everything white and pink and red and in between was blessed by Victor's lips. She thought of earlier as to why she didn't wear the foundation. She didn't need it. Not when Victor would always love her. 

“Let me see you too, Victor,” she said after he fully undressed her. 

He did as told and revealed himself to her. His hair appeared even more luxurious in this bare state. 

“You're gorgeous,” she whispered. 

Victor kissed her earlobe. “Would you like to learn a magic trick?” He asked, his voice lower than before.

“Please. I adore your magic tricks.”

Victor's hands tickled her abdomen before lowering, lowering between her legs. One finger slid inside her, her walls contracting. “It appears you're more than ready for my trick.” She kissed him deeply as he moved his finger inside her, circling around her nub inside her. But what surprised her was a second one being inserted at a different angle. 

“Victor!” She moaned. 

“Let me teach you, Della,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. He moved his fingers at two different angles. “Move your hips for me. Up and down. Set a nice rhythm. Like we're dancing again.” She did as she was told. “A perfect dancer. So pretty.” He said amidst her growing moans. “Keep going, my darling Della.” She moved in tandem with his fingers, her noises growing louder and louder.

“Sing for me, my Little Robin!” His fingers were now edging her decisively as she felt her entire body lighting up like the fireworks again but this time it wasn't a pop but rather something greater than that. She trembled, her body ringing out for him, moans echoing throughout the bedroom. 

He slowly withdrew his fingers from inside her. “You were so wonderful,” he said. “Would you like to stop here?”

She shook her head. “I want you to teach me everything, Victor. I'm certain.” 

He leaned in to kiss her, which she responded by wrapping her arms around his neck. His now dried fingers were weaving through her hair as their bodies aligned. 

She breathed in and Victor cupped her cheek. “I've always desired you,” he said. “And when you were in my bed…” he slowly began to push inside her.

“Yes…” she said as she felt his intrusion. A sweet pressure as he entered her. She had been stretched out thanks to his fingers and she had never felt so complete, so full the way she did now with Victor. 

“I wanted this too. Now let's do one last dance for the night, shall we?”

Their hands found each other’s now stripped free from gloves as he made love to her, each and every one of their fingers intertwined so intimately, like the strings of a piano key, striking a nerve inside her as they moved as one. 

“My dance partner,” she whispered between their kisses and thrusts.

Their movements became more frenzied but their hands never unlocked as they kept going. “I'm afraid I'm about to…”

“Let go,” she said, her hands gripping tighter as she moved even more swiftly underneath him. She was the fastest of the Robins, after all. 

Victor's climax came and he spilled himself inside her, slowing down. Adaline gripped her hands tight, hoping to come again but she couldn't achieve it the way it had happened with his fingers. Victor pulled out of her swiftly and began working his fingers inside her again, this time pumping in and out of her, his fingertips grazing the sweet spot that made her react in increasingly louder moans and whimpers. “I want to make my Robin sing all night. It’s one of the most wonderful sounds I’ve ever heard.”

It only took a few moments for her body to respond the way he did, her body shaking as she cried out his name.

His arms went around her, spooning her from behind. “You're precious to me, Della. Thank you for choosing me. For wanting me back.”

Adaline smiled as she closed her eyes.

“And it seems my Della requires less teaching than I thought. She'll be an expert by the end of the week.”

She turned around to face him, kissing his beauty mark again, her leg wrapping around his. He gave her his widest, most sincere grin. “End of the week? How about the end of the night?”

[currentlyinflames]

What if Shiro is a wanderer.

What if sometimes he goes for walks at night and gets lost in the stars. What if that inspired him to go to space.

What if after joining the Garrison, he'd still take these nightly walks. What if Adam wakes up in the middle of the night and freaks out because his roommate just disappeared.

What if he tries to go to a teacher but right before he does, he sees Takashi with his eyes lost in the stars, the moon lighting up his face as he walks back to the bunks. He stares. Shiro sees him. He looks away. He was worried.

Fast forward.

They take in Keith. He has the same amazed look when he looks at the stars. They're his family now. He flies really well. He's going to explore the stars too.

The first time Keith wakes up to see Shiro lost, he panics. What if he left too. Adam reassures him that it's normal. Shiro gets lost regularly, no big deal. He always comes back.

Diagnosis. Shiro leaves as soon as he can. He's lost for a day. He's found at the Garrison.

Fighting. Both of them storm out. Keith's left alone. Adam comes back first. Shiro starts his walk earlier today.

The Break Up. Shiro gets lost. He doesn't come back. He lives at the Garrison now.

Kerberos. Shiro gets lost in the stars. Just like he always has. Just like he always wanted.

But this time, he's lost forever, with no coming back.

[bookwyrminspiration]

If I do not post this I will never stop fiddling with it and it’s already partially glitched my tumblr, so please enjoy some four horsegirls of the apocalypse for @an-ungraceful-swan’s dtiys <3

Original + taglist:

KotLC Art Taglist: @bronte-deserves-better @imaramennoodle @thisbluewind @we-have-no-bananas-today @theofficialkai517 @ruewen-and-rising @keefeinnit @thesandsofdawn @crumpledwitchfeet @ascendant-queen @tribblemakingalicorn @axels-corner @loverofallthingssmart @silveny-dreams @girlofmanyfandoms @enbies-and-felonies @impostertamsong @sofia-not-sophie @alabestrine @keefes-hairgel @fanartofthelostcities @three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat @a-lonely-tatertot @ketterdamkid @cosmogyral-cleo @meg-doodles @dragonwinnie-kotlc @anaccidentwaitingtohappen @maglorslostsilmaril @even-if-in-another-time @crazedfangirl14 @callas-pancake-tree @katniss-elizabeth-chase @wolfstar-being-ridikkulus @thefoxysnake @florida-preposterously

[revivepages]

REVIVEPAGES PHYSICAL LOCATION INFO + MORE.

revivepages/??? offices are directly to the left of a small gas station the gas station has one worker, who hates her job and doesn’t even know if she has a boss. a truck comes every few weeks to restock inventory.

due to the location of the gas station few if any customers ever shop there, redlight/transmitter are basically keeping the place alive with their patronage.

transmitter desperately wants to go to the gas station but is mortified of leaving the office. (transmitter can actually make her way to the gas station, her radius stops just outside it) due to this fear transmitter often sends redlight on coffee/snack runs to the gas station.

transmitter thinks that the gas station has the best coffee she’s ever tasted (she’s only ever had two sources of coffee, the pot in the office (which tastes like dirt) and the store’s coffee (which tastes a bit less like dirt, and has sells creamers).

redlight almost never drinks the coffee that transmitter sends her to buy, and transmitter always takes reds coffee that only has one sip taken from it (she thinks that drinking from the same disposable cup is an indirect kiss, which is basically kissing.)

redlights usual haul from the station: two one-liter bottles of water, two of those dissolvable packets that you pour into water that make them taste like fruit punch. one apple danish that tastes like plastic with a hint of apple.

transmitter always makes red order: two hot coffees, with one little plastic creamer for each of them, and one donut to share (again, redlight almost never eats her half of the donut, if she takes a bite transmitter will wait until lunch is done and then eat redlights half.)

transmitter likes to get a box full of donuts every other friday, which are sometimes eaten by other employees.

redlight and the cashier have a mutual respect (dead eyes, working at a place they hate, (maybe even more?).)

gas station only has one gas pump, which is always out of service. parking lot is half cut off by a grass triangle.