#i just like posting snippets

[bradleysass]

James takes a step forward, then another. Slowly, deliberately. “You knew I’d be here.” Regulus’ jaw tenses. “And?” “And yet, you came anyway.” James tilts his head, taking him in, drinking in every little detail—the faint flush on his cheeks, the way his fingers twitch like he’s fighting the urge to reach for something. For him. Regulus glares. “Barty dragged me.” James huffs a laugh, because that’s only half true. “Right.” For a moment, neither of them speaks. The noise from the party fades into a dull hum. It’s just the two of them, standing too close in the dimly lit corridor, every unsaid thing pressing against the space between them. James wants to touch him. Just a brush of fingers, a ghost of contact. He wants to say everything he never does—that he watches him across every room, that his heart stumbles every time their eyes meet, that he’s so bloody in love with him it makes him stupid. Instead, he just says, “Stay.”

@leeny-leens (you said you loved the way i write yearning james. it's been awhile) @accio-sriracha @rosiesangel

[sublimati0ns]

daily koss #18: guy who totally doesn’t have deranged kinks due to unresolved issues he really should work through … bsky

Trying to do the ‘post-war redemption (-ish) arc relationship thing’ means indulging your (ugh) (shudder) (gag) partner when he calls in a ‘weird interface favour.’ Sadly, you are less dense about his feelings than you used to be. What the frag was all that about?! (…Maybe you’ll admit it felt good in the moment, though.)

[laddertek]

etho said actually you _don't_ understand the intricacies of how tango is my boyfriend and bdubs is my ex

(and how tango and bdubs kiss too)

Scar: We went on that little adventure, you know! Etho: Yeah, yeah, we had our adventure, that's true, that's true. Scar: You disparaged your teammates. That's it, all right, no more spoilers. Etho: (laughs) Our team has -- our team has some weird dynamics this -- this season. Cleo: (overlapping) Really, Etho? Is there trouble in paradise? (pause) Who's third-wheeling with you, again? I can't remember. Etho: (laughs) Uhh. The -- Cleo: Genuinely can't remember. I know it's you and Bdubs. And...Tango? Tango. Tango. Etho: (loudly) Why -- Why is Tango the third wheel? Why -- why isn't Bdubs the third wheel? Cleo: Because it's you and Bdubs. I'm sorry. I understand how that relationship goes. Etho: (dissatisfied) Hmm.

[kettlefire]

As Good as Good Gets (DP X DC Snippet)

Richard "Dick" Grayson is the golden child. In the eyes of the public, and in the eyes of the league. Dick is a sweet, caring son, a man who went from being a sidekick to being a hero. The pipeline from Robin to Nightwing had many people applauding his dedication to keeping Gotham safe.

No one knew the full story, not truly. No one but Bruce Wayne himself. And maybe a certain butler. Many don't know that Dick only became Robin to stop him from hunting down and killing the man who killed his parents.

No one really knows about the harsh fights and arguments he has had with Bruce. The times when Dick would find himself cut off from the Wayne name for a week or so. No one knows that the first person Dick warmed up to was Alfred. Having been bribed with cookies.

Things weren't always this good, trusting, happy relationship between Bruce and Dick. It had been a rough ride, a complicated one. But that was okay, because it got better.

Dick stopped being so moody and angsty. He grew up, he learned, and he changed. He became an older brother, found people that needed him. Needed him in a way that the citizens of Gotham didn't need him.

His brothers like to call him annoying. A goody two shoes who Bruce trusted more than everyone else. They couldn't fathom how someone like Dick could be so stupid and bubbly at all times.

All times, except when shit hits the fans. Despite the name calling, despite coining Dick as the stupid Wayne. They all knew better. They knew that when it mattered, Dick Grayson always pulled through. He was a force to be reckoned with when needed.

The whole Wayne family was a force to be reckoned with when called for. It didn't have to be under the guise of costumes and vigilante acts. Whether he was Officer Grayson or Nightwing, Dick was a man with his morals and values.

One night on patrol as Officer Grayson, Dick found someone who needed that force. A force willing to protect and care for the innocent. The hurt. The damaged, yet still good.

It started like any other night. A call of shots fired by an empty warehouse. There was no sighting or knowledge of any rouges being there, so Dick took the call. Told the team he'll contact them if it seems more than just a civilian incident.

The warehouse was dark, reeked of copper and oil. It didn't take long for Dick to find the trail. The liquid he found looked like the person had been dragged before walking. There was a clear struggle, even with the mess and emptiness that was the warehouse.

That wasn't Dick's biggest concern. The concern lay in just how much blood there was. Too much for any normal person to lose and still manage to stumble through the warehouse.

It wasn't just blood. It wasn't that much, but Dick could spot the strangeness in the liquid. The mixed in green that had an eerily similar color and glow as a certain pit.

Without thinking, Dick followed the trail. Barely remembering to make contact with his family. Give them an update on what he found. Words telling him to stay put for backup went in one ear and out the other.

Something in Dick's gut was telling him he couldn't wait. He needed to find the source. Whoever was currently bleeding out in this warehouse. He silenced the comm, moving further through the dimly lit building.

Then Dick found it. Or more so, he found him. It was just a boy. A boy that reminded Dick too much of the youngest Wayne. A boy sat against a wall, looking pale and weak.

Red and green coated the front of the boy's shirt, arms wrapped tightly around his middle. An attempt to stem the bleeding. A puddle had already started to form beneath the boy, and Dick moved without thinking once again.

He quickly found himself kneeling beside the boy, hands carefully reaching out. Before Dick even touched him, the boy flinched. Eyelids suddenly opened, wide and terrified blue eyes landed on Dick's.

In just that one look, Dick knew what he had to do. The haunting, terrified, and pained look in the boy's eyes told Dick everything he needed to know. The boy was in danger. Someone had hurt this kid, and it was clear it wasn't the first time.

The boy struggled weakly against Dick's touch, terrified whimpers, and barely coherent pleas spilled from the kid's lips. It had Dick's heart aching, clear as day the poor kid has been through hell and back.

It took a lot of reassurance, gentle touches, and promises of help before the kid let Dick take a look at the bleeding wound. A promise on Dick's soul had been the final thing that earned him any semblance of trust. A strange promise, but Dick was willing to make it.

That concern turned to pure anger the moment Dick managed to pull the sticky shirt away from the wound. The sight of a Y-incision cut perfectly into the skin, stitches tight on the skin, but blood still leaking heavily from the wound.

It didn't take long for Dick to realize why. Despite the perfect surgical care of the wound, a good couple of stitches had broken. Leaving gaping spots for that red and green liquid to pour out of.

The boy was deathly silent, tears streaking down his cheek as wide blue eyes stayed trained on Dick. In that moment, Dick knew he had to help. Had to get the kid to safety, patch him up, and find out what kind of monster would do this.

It didn't matter if the kid was human or not. It didn't matter if the kid had special abilities or not. No one, absolutely no one, deserved to be vivisected.

The kid was shrouded in mystery, but that mystery only seemed to grow and become clearer when Bruce had entered the scene. The boy had tensed, eyes flashing a bright glowing green.

Lazarus pit green.

It set a pit of dread in Dick's gut. His mind brings forward memories of Jason. Jason, after his revival, after his dip in that cursed pit. The same flash that his brother would get if he got too angry. Too emotional.

As much as Dick wanted to focus on finding who did this, if it had any connection to Ra's al Ghul. He couldn't. Not when the kid tried to get up, to pull away as Bruce and the others made their way closer.

Right now, Dick only cared about making sure the boy was okay. Fixing those stitches, getting him a meal, and a warm bed.

He needed to get this kid someplace where he felt safe and secure. Comfortable and protected. Dick wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the promise he had made, but he wasn't letting anyone get to the kid.

That included his family. As strange as it seemed, Dick put himself between the others and the kid. Shooting them all a glare that they had only ever seen a handful of times.

Dick lifted the poor boy up in his arms, cradling the crying child close as he led the way out of the warehouse. Ignoring the questions or confusion coming from Bruce and the others. As Dick walked, feeling the trembling boy clinging to him, he made a rather obvious realization.

Maybe the eldest son really was more like Bruce than he expected. Just a few short moments the the boy, a boy that Dick didn't know his name, and he was ready to pull out adoption papers. To give the boy a safety he so desperately needs.

Give him the chance that Bruce had given him all those years ago.

[straw-eri-chan]

I love the TimKon clone baby stories where Tim makes this kid and absolutely adores them and raises them until Kon comes back and they’re all happy. Right? But here’s my spin on it.

Tim makes this baby with his and Kon’s DNA. A grief baby. He takes one look and panics, because yeah, that’s his kid and he loves him.

But also, bringing him into the world right now is a terrible idea.

He doesn’t have the time, not with WE, and finding out Bruce might be alive, and taking on more cases and patrol routes. And he definitely isn’t in the right headspace for it. So he just decides to…you know, wait it out a little bit. Come back for his kid when it’s a better time.

He’s in a tube, after all, so he’s safe.

Then Kon finds him.

And Kon is already in love with him. Takes him home. Believes that Tim will be back from his mission soon enough.

He’s not.

By time he finally gets back, is “ready” to be a parent, the kid hates him. Doesn’t consider him his dad.

Tim had unknowingly made the exact same mistake his parents did.

Left.

[screebyy]

A little crowlyon dawning comic wheee i finished it please clap

Next

I have lots more written on this but idk if i will do another comic or write part of it as a fic or some mix of both. im just very normal about them right now 🙂

ID/transcript below cut

Panel 1: Crow is walking down a path outside of the dreaming city with a brown cross-body messenger bag slung over his shoulder. Crow is holding the strap of the messenger bag and looking up in exasperation as he talks to Glint, who is floating beside him and speaking emphatically. Crow: “There's still time to turn back…” Glint: “Don't!” Crow: “But -” Glint: “You said you wanted to go through with this!” Crow: “I know but -” Panel 2: Close up of Crow’s eyes as he spots something off-screen. He looks startled. Crow: “!-”

Panel 3: Jolyon is standing next to a natural stone wall, looking away from the viewer. He is resting one hand on the wall and staring out at the Dreaming City watchtower and buildings in the distance, which are overtaken with taken corruption and several taken orbs hang in the air around the city. Crow is standing in the foreground, looking at Jolyon with one hand resting on his messenger bag. Crow: “Jolyon.”

Panel 4: Close shot of Jolyon turning towards the viewer, he is only visible from his shoulder to his nose so his expression is neutral and unreadable.

Panel 5: Camera is looking over Jolyon’s shoulder as he looks at crow. Crow looks at Jolyon with determination. He is holding the strap of his bag with one hand where it falls across his chest. Glint is transmatting away with an enthusiastic expression. Jolyon’s face is not visible.  Crow: “Thanks for meeting me” Glint: “ok good luck bye”

Panel 6: Close shot of Crow’s face. He is looking down and to his left, blushing lightly. He looks uncertain and slightly embarrassed. Crow: “I’m sorry if you… didn’t want to hear from me.” Jolyon (offscreen): “It’s fine.”

Panel 7: Close shot of Jolyon’s face. He is staring down at Crow with a distant, slightly pained expression.  Jolyon: “What do you want?”

Panel 8: Close shot of Crow’s hands gripping the strap of the messenger bag. He is twisting it with both hands, clearly fidgeting due to nervousness. Crow: “I’m…”

Panel 9: Side shot of Crow and Jolyon looking at each other. Crow is leaning slightly forward, while Jolyon looks entirely neutral. Crow: “I’m trying to make amends.” Jolyon: “Amends. For what?”

Panel 10: Close shot of Crow’s face. He looks confused but determined, and is looking up at Jolyon with a furrowed brow.  Crow: “For-... For Uldren, for everything-”

Panel 11: Extreme closeup of Jolyon’s eyes. He looks angry and his eyes are suddenly glowing with intensity as he glares down at Crow. Jolyon: “No. What specifically?”

Panel 12: Low angle looking up at Jolyon, who is glaring down at Crow with an intense, angry expression, bordering on hatred. Jolyon: “Tell me. What exactly do you remember?”

Panel 13: Extreme closeup of Jolyon’s mouth as he sneers, speaking through gritted teeth. Jolyon: “Crow.”

Panel 14: Shot of Crow’s face, he looks startled and distraught as he stares at Jolyon. Crow: “...”

Panel 15: Crow looks away to his right, looking ashamed. Crow: “I remember enough. I remember when things were good between us. And when they were… less good.”

Panel 16: Extreme close up of Jolyon’s left eye, he is looking down at Crow and looks alarmed. Crow: “I remember the garden.”

Panel 17: Wide shot from behind Crow. Crow is looking up at Jolyon. Jolyon is flinching and looking swiftly away from Crow to his left. Crow: “After that… things start to get confused. Honestly, I don’t understand everything that happened between us at the end… But I know it wasn’t what he wanted.”

Panel 18: Shot of Jolyon looking away, looking extremely upset as Crow talks. Crow: “So… I’m sorry. For all of it.”

Panel 19: Extreme close up of Jolyon’s eyes, he is squeezing his eyes shut and still looks emotional. Crow: “And so is he.”

Jolyon: “...”

Panel 20: Wide shot from behind Jolyon. Jolyon turns back to look down at crow, his face is not visible. Crow is still looking up at him. Jolyon: “Okay. Is that all?”

Panel 21: Shot of Crow’s face, turning down to look at the messenger bag at his hip. Crow looks nervous and is blushing with embarrassment. Crow: “Um…”

Panel 22: Close shot of Crow’s hand as he opens the messenger bag and reaches inside. A purple box is visible inside the bag. Crow: “No.”

Panel 23: Wide shot of Crow. He has pulled the purple box out of the bag, and is looking down at it, blushing slightly. In an inset panel, Jolyon is looking at him suspiciously. Crow: “Do you know about the dawning?” Jolyon: “Yes… The Awoken don’t celebrate it.” Crow: “I know.”

Panel 24: Close shot of Crow’s face as he looks down at the box. He is smiling wistfully, and blushing. Crow: “But… in the city, we give each other sweets, to say thanks. And… I don’t know. Now, it always reminds me of this time…”

The background shifts to a black backdrop, with white snowflakes falling quickly.

Panel 25: Extreme close up of Uldren Sov’s face in a flashback. It is dark, and snowing. Uldren is wearing a hood and is hunched over while looking straight ahead at the viewer. His hair is obscuring his right eye, and he looks serious and intense. Crow: “It was centuries ago. Back when the last city was just a tiny settlement.”

Panel 26: Close up of Uldren holding a pair of dark gray-purple binoculars, with glowing magenta lenses. He is resting his hand with the binoculars on one knee in the air. Uldren is wearing a dark blue shirt and black gloves with burnt orange detailing, and a long black cloak. Crow: “I… He was doing surveillance on earth. Keeping tabs on the people trying to build a sanctuary beneath the traveler.”

Panel 27: A wide shot from behind Uldren, who is sitting on top of a dilapidated building on earth. He is looking down on a festive nighttime scene. There are several buildings that have been partially destroyed and reclaimed by time, but dark silhouettes of people have made a home in them. The windows are all glowing with firelight, and the buildings have been decorated with glowing garlands and colorful flags. Between the buildings, many people are visible, holding hands, hugging, and waving at each other. It is snowing very hard, and snow is piled up around Uldren and the village. Four inset panels show closer views of people within the village.  The first shows a woman hugging a man from behind. The man is holding a steaming hot cake inside a baking tray, and is wearing baking gloves. The woman is pressing her face against his neck, and the man is turning towards her and laughing. The second panel shows a human man throwing his arm over the shoulder of a blue exo. The Exo is waving at somebody to the left, and the man is looking the other direction and lifting a tankard of beer in cheers. The third panel shows an Awoken person and a human woman sitting at a table. The Awoken is holding a warm mug of tea, and is smiling lightly at the human woman. The human woman is turned towards the Awoken and is leaning close to them. She has placed one hand on their arm tenderly. The fourth panel shows a closeup of two people, one with dark hair and one with light hair. The light haired person is cupping the dark haired person with one hand, and is leaning in to kiss their other cheek. The dark haired person is blushign and laughing with their eyes closed. Crow: “They had almost nothing. But they were celebrating. Sharing, and laughing.”

Panel 28: Another closeup of Uldren’s eye as he watches the scenes below him, he now looks sad and distant. Crow: “It was snowing, nonstop. It was so cold. And he was so lonely…”

Panel 29: Uldren is walking away from the viewer, through a dark pine forest covered in snow. His cloak is blowing in the wind.

Panel 30: Uldren’s ship is flying towards the Dreaming city in the distance, weaving between two cliffs in the reef. Snow is blowing in the ships glowing purple trail.

Panel 31: Wide, side view of Uldren as he walks through the snow-covered dreaming city. In the background, ornate arches and pillars can be seen, along with an awoken statue. Snow is falling hard, and it looks windy.

Panel 32: Shot over Uldren’s shoulder as he bangs loudly on a wooden door. His hood is up and his face is not visible.

Panel 33: Waist-high shot of Jolyon opening the door. Jolyon is wearing a green sweater with the sleeves rolled up, and gray sweatpants. Jolyon: “Hello?”

Panel 34: Side shot of Uldren rushing inside, tackling Jolyon with a hug. Jolyon looks startled, and is stumbling back inside the doorway as the snow blows inside. Jolyon: “Wha-”

Panel 35: Side shot of Jolyon and Uldren embracing. Uldren has buried his face in Jolyon’s shoulder, and Jolyon is cupping the back of his head tenderly with one hand while his other arm drapes around Uldren’s shoulder. Uldren is clutching Jolyon’s sweater with one hand. Jolyon: “Aren’t you supposed to be on earth? Why are you back so soon?” Uldren: “Why do you think? I was freezing my ass off.”

Panel 36: Close shot of Uldren’s face pressed into Jolyon’s sweater, he is smiling wide and blushing slightly. His hair is falling over his face and his eyes are not visible. Uldren: “Listen- this is kind of stupid, but… Do you want to bake something with me? Something sweet?”

Panel 37: Shot of Jolyon’s hands in present day, holding the purple box that Crow has given him. The lid has been removed, revealing that it is full of cookies. They look like italian almond cookes, covered in powdered sugar and slivered almonds. Jolyon: “Hah… you remember that?”

Panel 38: Crow glances away, smiling nostalgically and blushing lightly. Crow: “Yeah. We made… well, I guess they were kind of like almond cookes? There were almonds in them, at least…”

Flashback Panel 1: In the background, a memory from the flashback is visible. It shows Uldren and Jolyon standing in a kitchen. Jolyon is standing behind Uldren and holding his waist affectionately. Uldren is holding a mixing bowl on the kitchen counter with one hand, and is pouring something into the bowl with his other hand. Several ingredients are visible strewn all over the counter, along with piles of spilled dough. Jolyon: “Haha, what are you doing? You’ve got to measure.” Uldren: “Following my royal intuition.” Jolyon: “Your intuition kind of looks like cat puke.”

Flashback Panel 2: View of Jolyon and Uldren from the front. Uldren is mixing the dough with a wooden spoon, and looking down at the bowl with a soft smile. Jolyon is behind him, with one arm wrapped around his waist. His other hand is holding Uldren’s arm tenderly. Jolyon is leaning down to kiss Uldren’s cheek. Jolyon: “You’re making a mess of my kitchen, Sov.” Uldren: “I’ll clean it up.” Jolyon: “Will you?” Uldren: “For you? Probably.”

Panel 39: In present day, Jolyon is staring down at the tin of cookies, smiling faintly. Crow (offscreen): “We didn’t really have much of a plan…” Jolyon: “Uldren wasn’t big on plans. Or recipes.”

Panel 40: Jolyon says from offscreen, above the rest of the panel: “Whatever they were, they didn’t turn out very good.” In the panel, Crow is blushing furiously, looking nervously at a thought bubble to his left with a shaky smile. Within his thought bubble another memory is visible, of Jolyon and Uldren kissing passionately on a couch. In the background of the memory, several “BEEP” sound effects are visible. Jolyon is on top of Uldren, holding Uldren’s head in one hand while kissing his neck. Uldren is smirking, while pulling Jolyon’s shirt off with both hands. Jolyon (flashback): “Oven’s going off. We should probably get that.” Uldren (flashback): “I don’t give a shit.” Crow (present day): “Um. Yeah. They were kind of… burnt…”

Panel 41: In present day, Jolyon is smiling faintly, looking at one of the cookies as he holds it up in front of his face. Crow (offscreen): “These are better, I hope.” Jolyon: “Seems like it.”

Panel 42: Close up of Jolyon taking a bite of the cookie.

Panel 43: Crow is smiling enthusiastically up at Jolyon. Jolyon (offscreen): “They’re good.” Crow: “Good!”

Panel 44: Close up of Jolyon. His smile is falling, he looks seems distant and emotional as he looks down at Crow. His eyes are glistening with the first signs of tears. Jolyon: “I uh…”

Panel 45: Jolyon turning to his right, digging the heel of his hand into his right eye as his tears start to fall. He looks distraught, squeezing his eyes shut. Jolyon: “I should go.”

Panel 46: Shot over Crow’s shoulder, Jolyon is walking swiftly away, holding one hand over his face. Crow is looking after him, with one hand reaching awkwardly towards Jolyon. Crow: “Wait…” Jolyon: “Thank you.”

Panel 47: Shot of Crow’s face as he watches Jolyon leave. He looks startled and upset. Crow: “...”

Panel 48: Crow facepalms, looking frustrated and embarrassed. Crow: AUGH.

Panel 49: Crow is sitting on a rock on the cliffside, he is hunched over and propping up his face on one hand. He looks defeated and is sighing. Glint has re-appeared next to him, and looks enthusiastic. Glint: “That could have gone worse! He said they were good! How do you feel?” Crow. “Fantastic. Why did I let you talk me into this?”

[nyoomian]

“Most people usually find bird sounds relaxing.”

From The Interpretation of Shadows webcomic [Chapter 11: Red Tape PT. 2]

[amogus-real-not-clickbait]

part 1 of a little comic / art sequence that i've been working on! :D it's part tribute, part experimenting with brushes n colors and trying new thingz :]

| 1 | 2 | 3 | ... |

and thus continues my endless quest of spreading the carrot fics like a plague! if you've seen my art floating around you probs already figured that this au holds a very special place in my heart, forever and always!!

if you haven't heard of it, it's a fic series by @crowned-ladybug called carrot soup!! it made me wish i could speak colors and i need more people to share my struggle xd

go check it out if you're into sweet voice lore and qpr level gayness and just wanna feel warm and soft and warm (hurt/comfort my beloved) <333 there are some heavier themes cos everyone's traumatized but they're working through it! be sure to check the tags and stay safe! <3

[hrokkall]

You were created by humans to protect. They died, so you continued to protect—protect everything they hold dear. You rest in the corners of hell that make mockeries of their holy places and tell yourself that you, you are the last bastion of everything they held dear. You are more than a machine, you fight like man—with honor—as you still bow before the thing that claims to be you. It fights like a dog, and you flee. You can't bring yourself to go back and see what has become of the temple.

You have a new purpose now. If it seeks to destroy, you will give it destruction. You use everything that humanity taught you to create, study the curvatures of their statues to weld together a new arm out of the remains of a sentry you mangled (what a worthless, worthless warmachine—knowing nothing but itself) resembling their own. You settle, once again, in a faux temple—this one of golden stone—and you wait.

It arrives. Of course it does. And you rend it apart. Piece by bloody piece. You take apart everything that you hate, hate, hate. It takes until your chest is dented in for the red haze in your vision to clear, to realize the scrap lining the floor is your own.

So you flee. Not in cowardice—you are not human enough for cowardice, you have always known this—but for the most mechanical thought of self-preservation. You flee and it follows, and some sinking feeling knows that the only thing the two of you feel is hunger.

You were never human, nor did you truly seek to protect anything but yourself. You will never know peace, for you were nothing more than a leftover of war.

It hardly matters. You were created by humans to die—and you die like the machine you are.

[moodlesmain]

I am THIS close to going full conspiracy board trying to piece together the components of my favourite genre "spooky, mystery solving, coming of age adventures that involve a clash of the mundane and the supernatural"

EDIT: I went full conspiracy board mode

[mayxo-hxh]

hxh taught me a lot about what it truly means to have experience in your area of expertise.

this is what having experience in the field means. They figured out so much in only so little and immediately took measures against it. this fight is so good... shows u how insane the zoldycks are

even chrollo was like damn chill!!

[aingeal98]

Seeing yellowjackets spoilers without having watched the episode yet feels like getting news and rumours from the battalion your son is in as he fights a war. Or from your daughter at the world's worst summer camp. How's Nat doing this week they haven't traumatised her too badly this time have they? Is she making friends? Not getting in any fights? Oh I see Lottie and Shauna are at it again, hope they don't do anything too extreme. Is it all work or do they get a chance for some fun? I hope they're not eating another human so soon after their last one, it can't be good for their gut health. (I'll find out in a few hours when I can actually watch it)

[wildstar25]

Honeymoon finale - Solution Nine

[G'raha] : "So you have been asked to fight for Solution Nine's entertainment... My love, it's not that I doubt your judgment, but are you sure this is something you should get involved in?" [Arsay]: "If I can use my skills to uplift the people of this place, don't see why I shouldn't, yeah? Plus, I'll need to find something to do while Shtola's investigating the gate." [Y'shtola]: "And here I've been preparing for your inevitable begging to join." [Arsay]: "Even I can admit there's work you do better alone. ..That said, I'll miss you every tick." [Y'shtola]: "I'll be but a call away, dear. What of you, Raha?" [G'raha]: "Likely continuing our in-depth report of the golden city; for the Student's records. Should the opportunity present itself that I may spectate a match featuring my most beloved star however..." [Y'shtola]: "Then you shall ensure you cheer her on with enough fever for the both of us." [Arsay]: "Heh! I'll be sure to keep you apprised of my schedule. ... <sighs> I guess this means our vacation is over. It's been fun, ay? Every moment I share with you both is a memory I will forever treasure; but these past two weeks... I've no words for how wonderful it's been. Shtola, Raha, I love you." [Y'shtola]: "And I, you." [G'raha]: <nods> "Beyond measure." [Arsay]: "Now, with this being our last night of fun and all; I've an idea in mind on how to spend it."

<<prev.

[charming-doodles]

Happy Holiday Truce @jackdaw-sprite !!! (And a happy new year~)

I kinda smushed two Lost Time prompts and was inspired by two posts you tagged as Lost Time for inspiration since I've never really written or drawn art exploring Danny and Clockwork's relationship before. (Hope that's ok xp) I hope you like it ><

Danny raced through the Zone, struggling to reach Clockwork's lair as ghost after ghost delayed him, picking a fight with what Danny's core quietly noted was motivated by desperation.

Desperate to what? Beat him to the ground?

No, that wasn't it.

His core hummed with... discomfort??? Unsatisfaction??? None of these ghost were giving him what he wanted.

What did he want?

Danny didn't know. Didn't have time to think as he blasted away one of his rouges, confusion bubbling when Pandora of all ghosts seemed to bow at her defeat. Although, it wasn't like she was putting much effort into their fight. She seemed only amused. A quiet acceptance lingering in her eyes as he slowly floated away from her.

"I understand I can't have you. Not with how your cores call for each other."

...what?

He didn't stick around for an answer. A desperate need like no other pulling him towards Clockwork. Idly, as he finally reached Clockwork's lair, a conversation he had with Clockwork resurfaced.

"Ugh, that's the third time this week that Skulkers broken his promise not to attack during school hours! And it's only Tuesday!" Clockwork simply smiled in amusement as Danny ranted about his day.

"But as I recall, you've successfully ended the fight before the Fentons showed up with minimal damage. You're improving. What is there to complain about?"

Danny snarled but pulled back, startled at his harsh reaction, hands slapping his mouth closed. Where did that come from?

"Sorry, it's just that..." He growled softly, flexing his hands into fists, "Lately these fights have been feeling so... UGH lame!"

"Lame?"

"Yeah! Lame." He huffed, looking away from Clockwork, knowing he was laughing at his childish insult.

"Poor thing." Danny's core bubbled at the insult. Clockwork raised his brow towards Danny, the ghostling's irritability easy to read with how little control he has in hiding his core's projections. "Is the lame fights to blame for your irritability or does the baby ghost need a bedtime?"

"BEDTIME?!" He stuttered at the offense, his core surged at the insult. He groaned. "Don't tell me you want to pick a fight, too! That's what everyone seems to want from me lately! At least you'll be a challenge."

Clockwork's eyes pierced right through his soul and Danny involuntarily shivered with fear.

"Perhaps tomorrow."

"Tsk- Perhaps tomorrow." Danny mocked. "Scared you'll lose?"

"No." He smiled a little, "I'd like to see their desperation as they fight for guardianship one last time. I let this go on long enough."

Guardianship. His core hummed with recognition. Expectation.

This was it. What was it? He wouldn't be alone anymore! Since when was he alone? He just had to prove himself! But why??

He entered Clockwork's lair with a grimace, irritated and tired from all the ghosts attacking him since their last conversation. Everyone understood what they were fighting for except him. Would Clockwork even explain himself after?

He didn't have much time left to think, when Clockwork swung at him. His core hummed with excitement, wild green eyes meeting calm, piercing red.

Game on.

[quadrantadvisor]

Multiverse, Reverse Robins au, 2,514 words

-

Jason (Red Hood)

The imposters are good, Jason will give them that.

They need to work on their looks, unfortunately, because each one of them is a little off. Their Nightwing is too bulky, and his costume isn't made with Dick's flexibility in mind. Besides that, he's got an undercut that doesn't match the shaggy way Dick has his hair now, and his blue is too dark. And the swords. Those are different.

Their little Robin looks more like Dick, actually, Dick as he was before Jason's time, with his happy grin and his bright yellow cape. He doesn't match Damian's style at all, and Jason wonders if their intel was out of date. He tucks away his anger (the way he's used to doing, now) at these bastards roping some little kid into whatever con they're trying to pull. They can help the kid after they subdue him, and he stops trying to flip-kick people in the face.

The Red Robin outfit isn't bad, but the guy playing him is way too tall to be Tim. He doesn't use a bo staff, either, clearly preferring the armory of sharp little implements he keeps tucked away in his utility belt, including a wicked looking combat knife.

Which brings Jason to the current pain in his ass, the idiot trying to pass himself off as the Red Hood.

Yeah, they'd split off into pairs to fight. First off, for practicality's sake. Less risk of friendly fire if the only guy you're trying to punch is the one who isn't you. And secondly, it's just what you do, isn't it? Somebody gives you a set up like this, you go along with the poetic justice. No bat is immune to drama.

Jason is regretting that a bit, now. Fake Hood had taken him for a ride, leading him, he now realizes, far away from the warehouse where Nightwing and Robin had initially called in the disturbance. This other guy isn't the powerhouse that Jason is, but that doesn’t matter if Jason can't ever get in a hit. His movements are precise, deadly, and familiar in a way that makes Jason suspect League training. Jason is keeping up, but barely, and that's with the advantage of his guns. The other guy hasn't touched his, still gleaming red in his holsters, and Jason has a sneaking suspicion that they aren't filled with rubber bullets.

They're at a bit of a stalemate, standing on opposite sides of a dark rooftop, and Jason's trying to catch his breath but he can't relax, not when his gaze is locked onto his opponent, waiting for the minute twitch of muscle that will indicate his next move. He's wondering if he could get a shot off, wondering where to aim, when his comm crackles to life.

“Stand down!” Tim snaps in his ear. “Hood, Wing, the alternates aren't currently a threat. Deescalate however you can, and get back to the warehouse. We can explain this whole mess there.”

“Really?” Nightwing asks. He goes on to say something else, something about his doppleganger being incredibly threatening, thank you very much, but Jason stops listening, because there's something going on across the roof.

A mechanically distorted voice says, “What? No, I'd be able to tell. This guy isn't-” The imposter(?) cuts off suddenly, presumably listening to a response.

And then he… giggles.

“That isn't funny, Red,” he says, in contrast to the little peals of laughter making him subtly shake. “You- you get how fucked up that would be, don't you?”

Jason can't figure out what to do. Tim's intel is almost always good, but he can't get himself to stand down, not when, for some reason, that laughter is setting his teeth on fucking edge.

(He knows the reason. He'd know that cadence anywhere, he hears it in his fucking nightmares, but it isnt possible. He's in Arkham, right now, because Batman won't kill him and Jason isn't allowed to kill him and that uncomfortable truce is what got him his family back. Jason would know if he'd broken out, they wouldn't have kept that from him. They wouldn't.)

“Oh shit,” Tim says, and it makes Jason wonder how he knows, “Hood, is your alternate having some kind of fit right now?”

The sound escalates, from breathy little giggles to screeching laughter, and even with the hood's distortion, it's unmistakable.

It's the Joker's laugh.

It's the Joker.

And isn't this exactly some shit that Joker would pull, making a mockery of Jason's family, a twisted parody that fucks with his head? Tim's lying, he's trying to get Jason out of this situation, and Jason gets why, he does, but obviously the rest of them can't (won't) protect him from this, so if he has to take fate into his own hands, he will.

The green is creeping up, but Jason doesn't let it haze over his vision because he has to be in his right mind while he does this, not for them, for himself. As he stalks across the roof, he empties the clip from one of his guns and pulls out the live rounds, loads them into place.

He thinks Tim is calling for him, maybe the others, too, but the chatter over the comm is getting further away the closer he gets to his target. He should be smart, should take the shot, but maybe he's got more pit in his head than he wants to admit, because Joker, still laughing, pulls a knife, and Jason steps into his range to disarm him.

The strike is fast, but compared to the careful movements of before, he's practically telegraphing his actions. Jason sidesteps, and if the blade knicks him when he twists Joker's arm, he doesn't feel it. He's got the clown in a hold, now, and forces him to his knees with the gun against his temple.

If the hood is anything like his own, the bullet won't do it, not even at point blank range. Jason would like to get it off him, would like to see the life leave his eyes, but he doesn't have to. Jason moves the barrel beneath his chin, right where the armor ends. The pit rages inside of him, says this is too easy, says to make him suffer. Jason pushes it down. This is the compromise he'll make, this is what he'll do to try to maintain both his humanity and his peace of mind. The bullet will ricochet off the hood from the inside, will tear through Joker's brain at least twice, and he'll never come back from that, and Jason will finally be free.

It'll be easy.

This is too easy.

“Nothing to fucking say?” Jason growls, jostling the clown in his grip, because there's always some joke, some shitty twist.

The Joker just laughs.

“Unhand him this instant!” someone snaps, and Jason's finger twitches but somehow the trigger stays still. And now what's he supposed to do, because of course fucking Nightwing- but wait, that isn't- but it is, he's right there- it's both of them, two Nightwings. Fucking fantastic. Twice the guilt trip.

“Come on, Jay,” the Nightwing who's actually Dick pleads, and hey, what the fuck, codenames? In front of the fucking Joker, Dick? “Let him go, we can explain everything.”

“I'm not doing this again!” rips itself from Jason's throat, and he'll think later about just how wrecked he sounds. “I'm not just standing here and letting him go, Wing, not when one bullet can put a stop to all this, not when I can end him.”

“Jason,” Dick says, slow with forced calm, “that's not the Joker.”

“Don't you fucking lie to me!” Jason seethes.

His hand is wrenched to the side, the barrel facing open air, and before he can make a move the unfortunately familiar feeling of a high voltage shock courses through him.

By the time he's stopped seizing, Dick is at his back, supporting him with his own body and with arms under his pits and around his chest in a weird reverse hug. Technically, Jason's hands are free, but they're empty, the gun skidded to somewhere else across the roof.

Dick is murmuring into his ear, “Sorry, Little Wing, I'm so sorry,” and, “You're okay, you're okay, you're okay,” mantras meant to soothe his brother as much as himself. Jason wants to be angry, wants to snap at him to let go and fucking cut it out, but he's feeling strangely disoriented. He only has enough brainspace to pay attention to one thing, and that's the scene playing out in front of him.

Dick had clearly hauled them back a few steps, but Jason is still uncomfortably close to the bastard version of Nightwing (who, Jason realizes in hindsight, had tazed him while he'd been distracted by his brother, not cool) and the laughing maniac he should've killed. Nightwing is holding onto Joker's shoulders, his hands bouncing as the gasping, shrieking laughter continues.

“I'm going to remove your helmet now,” Nightwing says. He has a slight accent that Jason knows he's heard before, and his tone is professional, almost clipped. And yet, somehow, Jason can tell that this is a gentled version of the man's voice, the sharpest edges sanded away. His hands move from Joker's shoulders to the back of his head, carefully inputting whatever sequence allows for safe removal of the hood. Jason hears a hydraulic hiss when some sort of catch releases, and as Nightwing starts pulling the red metal up and away Jason can't help holding his breath.

At first, he sees what he expected to see. It's the Joker's expression, after all, his laughing face pulled into a rictus grin.

But the grin isn't right, somehow. The man is pale, but his face is unpainted, and the smile stretches wide, too wide, wider than even the Joker ever managed, and after a moment Jason recognizes the red, raised scar tissue on either side of his mouth for what it is.

Then, Jason takes in the actual features of the person in front of him. Dark hair, pale blue eyes, the cheeks, the jaw, the nose.

It doesn't make any fucking sense.

The Red Hood, collapsed on his knees in front of him, scarred face bare with no hood or domino to protect him as he struggles under the weight of his own laughter, is Tim Drake.

He's crying.

Jason is suddenly glad that Dick's holding him, because he's certain that he'd be on the ground, otherwise. Then, he realizes that he can't breathe.

Jason knows, logically, that his hood has sensors and filters that keep him safer than he could ever be without it. It is only every once in a while, when something stupid happens, that he regrets that he, a man with claustrophobia, decided to stick his head into a metal bucket.

Dick can probably tell that he's hyperventilating, and doesn't fight him as Jason gets his hands on the back of his neck and pulls off his hood.

Jason gasps in polluted Gotham air, and Tim's eyes snap onto him. Nightwing says, “I'm administering the emergency dose of your medication,” and then stalls, like he's waiting for a response, but all Tim does is laugh and stare. Jason stares back. He can't look away.

Nightwing retrieves a small tubular device, almost like an epipen, and presses it against Tim's leg. That shouldn't work. Tim's wearing body armor, same as the rest of them, and there's no way a needle could pierce it, but Jason looks as Nightwing draws the device away and there's a small raised circle of hard plastic on Tim's thigh that the head of the device fits into perfectly, like it was designed for that purpose. An injection spot, built into Tim's clothing, specifically for whatever drugs fake Nightwing just pumped into him.

Immediately, there's a difference. He doesn't stop laughing, or smiling that horrible fucking smile, but the manic tension is gone. He doesn't look like he'll shatter at a touch anymore, too brittle to be handled. The curve of his spine gentles, muscles no longer pulling it to the point of snapping. Jason watches as slowly, oh so slowly, Tim gets quieter, leans more into Nightwing's hold on him, starts gasping more than laughing.

Dick is talking behind him, into his comm, it sounds like. If it's important, someone will get his attention.

Finally, Tim breaks eye contact. “T- tell him,” he says to Nightwing, struggling between gasps and giggles, “tell him what you, gave me. Jay doesn't, he doesn't like, needles.”

The strange Nightwing turns his head, and Jason gets the impression of a sharp, searching gaze behind his domino. He's nothing like Dick, not at all, but something niggles the back of Jason's mind, some sense of familiarity regardless. He tosses something, and Jason automatically reaches up to catch it.

It's the empty tube of medication, which does seem a lot like an epipen, up close. “It's a combination,” the man says. “The antidote for Joker venom, an antipsychotic, and a mild sedative.”

“What the fuck?” Jason hears from his own mouth as he looks down at the innocuous little tube.

“It's only used in emergencies,” Nightwing adds, and does not clarify any further.

Jason doesn't know what to say to that. He shakes himself out of Dick's hold and grabs an evidence bag out of his jacket. He watches Nightwing, to see if he'll object, but he doesn't. Jason slips the medicine tube inside the bag and tucks it away.

“There you are!” Dick says in a bright tone, one meant to cover his anxiety and relief.

Jason turns, and finds that their roof has gotten a little crowded. All four Robins have arrived, his brothers mingled in with their copies, copies who don't quite match in ways that are now sticking in his brain. Tim, Jason's Tim, is standing right there, pressing his mask against his face like he'd broken the seal on the adhesive, and it isn't sticking quite right. Other than that, he's normal. He's fine.

The Robin, the one in the classic colors who Jason had thought looked a bit like Dick (oh God, could that be-?) gives a little whistle. “Trust Red Hood to cause drama!” he says in a bright tone that is too too familiar (fuck, fuck he is). “Must be a universal constant.” He grins, cheeky, looking past Jason.

Jason isn't processing fast enough to be offended for his own sake, but he turns and checks on Tim, other Tim, the Tim who apparently also has a claim to the Red Hood name. Tim is propped up on Nightwing's shoulder, looking drowsy and relaxed. He's looking back at Robin, and his lips are pressed tightly closed, but he's smiling, and it reaches his eyes.

Alright, then. This is probably fine.

Jason snorts, to get the kid's attention, and rolls his eyes. “Comes with the job description,” he snarks.

The kid lights up. Jason feels distinctly weird, having that smile directed at him, but it's not… bad.

Yeah. This is fine.

-

I'm planning to add a reblog with more information on this au/fic idea, so if you're interested, watch this space.

[solaestial]

more rpgmaker experimentation with a potential little scenario :>