#they got the right idea lmao

[thatfrenchacademic]

Hi I am sick and miserable, like not in a sad way just in a sick-curled-up-under-a-blanket-death-warmed-over way pls send funny /cute / dumb things???

[basslinegrave]

pin-up

b&w originals

[excali8ur]

Weird dream.

[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.

[waywardsunlight]

AU where Hunter found out about the basilisks and did a very well timed request of his uncle (also known as, in front of reporters and Coven Heads) to ask about them. Vee Coven Scout/ Sibling energy with Hunter AU.

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt#148 Part 2

Danny feels himself grow bright red and the two stare into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity. 

“I- Uh… I’m Danny” He finally managed to mutter. 

“Damian Wayne, its a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Danny's blush grew even brighter as the next moment Damian kissed his hand, Danny couldn’t help but feel flustered. 

After a moment  Danny rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and stuttered out, “It’s nice, to meet you too” He could tell how happy Damian was to meet him and he felt a little bad for feeling nervous in the first place. Danny thought Damian was cute and he decided then that he wouldn’t mind getting to know him a little better. First they had to get through the rest of the gala, and soon as he thought about the gala something clicked. 

He realized Damian was the son of Bruce Wayne who at the moment was talking to his own parents. He couldn’t help but stare as he let the information sink in. 

“Ah yes it looks like Father is talking to some of the scientists that were invited.” Ancients, Danny knew his parents couldn’t help being themselves and unfortunately that meant things like accidentally spilling fudge right onto Mr. Wayne's suite. They watched as Mr. Wayne told his parents it wasn’t a problem and then walked out of the room. 

Danny couldn’t help but sigh, “Sorry about them, my parents are a little eccentric. Don’t even get me started on their obsession with ghosts, my dad will not shut up sometimes.” Danny rubbed the back of his neck nervously again as he realized he was rambling a little bit. 

“Don’t worry it looks like Father handled the situation well, although I am curious what kind of inventions two scientists obsessed with ghosts create. That’s what this gala is about, we want to support scientists in untapped fields of study.” Danny listened as his soulmate explained things to him. 

Danny looked over to see Vlad talking to a thin scientist in the corner of the room. He was definitely up to something, a ball like this had Vlad scheming something with a mad scientist written all over it. 

He was brought out from his thoughts as a loud crash could be heard as the wall across the room burst open and none other than the Joker walked through.

Danny tried to make his way to the other side of the gala, strangely Damian had disappeared but Danny didn’t have the time to look for him.  

However when he got to the door staying low to the ground the door burst through and more of Joker's goons looked straight at him and he found himself tied up right in front of the Joker. 

“What do we have here? A new Wayne?” Joker said as he cupped Danny's face in his hand. Danny couldn’t do anything about the situation and he was getting a little scared considering he didn’t have a proper way to go ghost or protect his soulmate at the moment. 

The Joker circled around the tied up hostages laughing, “Of course now the fun begins”

The Joker continued to circle around the hostages thinking for a moment before he grabbed Danny.

He held Danny by the back of the shirt like a small kitten. His obsession was making him wonder if his soulmate was safe living in Gotham. Joker chuckled as he continued to hold Danny.

“This kid will be an example for the rest of you, I don’t want any outbursts like that again, especially when Batman gets here. Do you think Batman will like what I’ve done with the place?” He asked as he gestured around the ruined room. All of the tables and chairs had either been broken or knocked over and all of the food from the dessert and appetizer tables. It was quite the mess. Before Joker could do much else with the teen he had dangling in his grasp something flew out and smacked Joker right in the back of the head causing him to drop Danny.

Danny took that opportunity to get away, his hands may have been tied but his feet were sure free. He stumbled away as Batman dropped down and a fight between him and the Joker commenced. 

Danny ran towards the door and as he got there Robin and Nightwing were there ushering some of the other hostages out of the room. 

“Right this way citizens!” Nightwing said brightly at them but he seemed to brighten up a bit more when he saw Danny weirdly. 

“Have either of you seen Damian Wayne?” Danny asked, he at least wanted to get his number, especially when he was headed back to Amity soon.

They seemed to share a look before looking back at him, “Damian left, he’s headed safely back to Wayne manor.” Robin said but he held out a piece of paper. On it was Damians signature and his phone number. Danny sighed a little annoyed he had left but he guessed it was common to head back home after a rogue attack in Gotham. 

“Danny!!” the booming voice of Jack Fenton was suddenly heard and Danny felt himself getting pulled into a very familiar bear hug. 

“Did you have fun at the gala? Your father and I saw you talking to Mr. Wayne's son,” His mother said after his feet were back on the ground. 

“Yeah, actually can we talk about that after we’re back in our room?” He wanted to tell his parents he found his soulmate but saying that outloud when Damian was the son of Bruce Wayne sounded like a bad idea. 

They headed back to the hotel room and all Danny could think about was how lucky he was to have met his soulmate tonight, even if he was nervous about everything.

Master Post:

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[nelkcats]

Scamming the scammer

John Constantine was the biggest headache Danny had managed to get, ever. After becoming King he did not think that his first task would be to solve the man's soul problems.

And it seemed quite incredible to him that the hellbazer would consider selling his soul as if it were a used car that he wants to get rid of to buy a new one. He was aware that he needed a soul, wasn't he? That it was not possible to buy a new one? Because he didn't want to be the one to inform him if that was not the case.

To top it off, beings from different domains within his kingdom came explicitly to claim the British's soul, which didn't even make sense, there were thousands of souls! Why did everyone want the same one? And why did he have to be the one to take care of it?

Completely frustrated, he placed all the paperwork for John Constantine in an empty room and locked the door. He smiled as he came up with a plan to improve the situation, it might be worth it.

That's how a drunk John Constantine found himself signing a dubious contract in exchange for the power to turn any liquid into beer, he didn't bother to read the contract, most demons just wanted his soul and this guy looked so human, with a presence so light it must be a minor demon for sure.

This turned out to be a bad decision when the next morning he found himself trapped in a room full of documents, the door locked. Taped to the door was a green note that said "Enjoy doing your own paperwork sir, I hope you're pleased with yourself", and well, maybe he should have read that contract after all.

[spacecatdet]

The prettiest Scar from Secret Prince AU and Watcher Grian from Vexed au by @sourcubes! If you have not checked them out please do they are so good and the art is great I've wanted to draw the lot of them for a time now. And had an absolute blast

[slavhew]

you win. try again?

[commandertartarsmoocher]

The ✨tumblr sexymanification✨ of Commander Tartar from the hit video game series Splatoon™

[b4kuch1n]

siren

[melodyatlas]

Tim's stalking escalates 👀 breaks into Jason's safehouse all the time, maybe steals some pair of pants, just rifles through his fridge to see what he eats, maybe even thinks of bringing some food to stock up stuff

Just, Jason is aware that someone is in his home almost daily, but he can never catch that fucker, at first he thought it was bruce but Bruce wouldn't let this much time pass without a confrontation and not daily

yesssss

The stalking is just normal behavior for Tim- for all the Bats really, but not to the same extent as it is for Tim.

They all traipse all over each other boundaries, breaking into each others places to steal info or tech or sometimes even just a little welfare check.

But Tim takes it to a whole other level; if stalking were an olympic sport, Tim would bring home the gold every time. Dick and Bruce are used to it- after all, its basically how he introduced himself to them all those years ago, breaking into Dick's apartment, and his safe, at the tender age of twelve.

If Jason had known that part, he probably wouldn't have had to jump through so many hoops trying to figure out who the hell was in his apartment all the time.

Look- it's not his fault his mind didn't immediately go to the little freak- he /really/ had no reason to assume it was Tim. At first.

He and Tim aren't /friends/, but they probably have the easiest relationship out of the rest of the Bats. There's a mutual begrudging respect there. And even after beating Tim's ass into the ground so many times over the years, he knows Tim isn't one to hold a grudge, or he wouldn't have bailed Jason out of tight spots so many times since then.

Tim doesn't really bother Jason unless he needs his help, or if Jason's doing something that interferes with whatever Tim is doing. They've managed to work more than a few cases together recently because of the accidental crossover, but it's not like it's something either of them /seek out/.

So yeah, he didn't jump to thinking it was Tim in his place when he noticed it was being broken into, because Tim would just come right to him if he wanted info, and Tim has no other logical reason to really sneak in.

When he first notices his little intruder, he thinks it's Bruce. Maaaaybe Dick. Nothing was missing the first few visits, just some stuff moved around. He wasn't worried about them actually stealing any intel from him, he keeps his shit under some pretty explosive lock and keys.

But it's still annoying as fuck.

He really doesn't need Bruce poking his nose into his daily life- it's not welcome and Bruce should already know that. It doesn't matter that they have a tentative ceasefire- Bruce should know that him breaking in crosses a line that would mean an end to Jason playing so nicely with him.

It's when it keeps happening that he realizes it's definitely not Bruce. The missing food items from the kitchen just /screams/ Dick.

Because of-fucking-course Dickface would break into his place just to make sure he's not doing something he shouldn't and help himself to Jason's food while he's at it.

He didn't think Dick would be so hard to catch in the act though. He's set up various new security measures, both deterants and new surveillance. But he still never catches him.

And he wants the hard evidence if he's going to accuse the golden boy. Last thing he needs is Dick to spin it into some sort of "Jason making excuses to be around him" sort of situation.

He thinks about going to Babs to make sure no one else could get around his new surveillance, but if it is Dick, Babs is more likely to be on his side than Jason's. They aren't together anymore, but they go through these phases where they're weirdly chummy again and right now they're playing besties.

It starts really getting serious to Jason when his clothes start going missing along with his food.

Because, who /the fuck/ is taking his clothes, for god's sake??

It knocks Dick down from the top of the list of probable perpetrators. But who else would he be replaced by at the top of the list? It has to be another Bat, otherwise they wouldn't be able to get through all of his security.

It's only then that he thinks of Tim.

And thinks. And thinks and thinks.

Because seriously- why the fuck is he stealing his clothes?

He has to find out.

So he decides to do some breaking and entering of his own.

Tim's security is good. Levels of security that one would expect from Red Robin all hidden beneath what civilians would expect from socialite Timothy Drake-Wayne.

It's involved enough that reminds Jason of his own measures, and mentally he can't help but give Tim a little pat on the back for getting through all of Jason's security every. single. day. The guy's got patience, Jason will give him that.

He sneaks into the fancy-ass kitchen first, and digs through Tim's cabinets. He deserves to be able to steal some of Tim's food to make up for the little bird's own thefts.

The cabinets are depressingly bare- lots of protien bars and microwavable meals. Alfred would weep if he saw this.

Jason takes a box of protien bars just for the principle of the thing- but really, he almost leaves the kitchen alone because of how sad it is to see.

There's a noise from further inside the apartment, so Jason takes his box of spoils and makes his way out of the kitchen and down the hall. He passes by the spartan living room, walks past the open door of a home office, and a bougie bathroom- he's on a mission, and there's a cracked door at the end of the hall, light spilling out.

Jason assumes it's the master bedroom, based on the rooms he passes on the way. It's definitely where the muffled noises are coming from.

He doesn't want to show his hand just yet, so Jason is careful to stay stealthy and silent as he approaches the door, peeking through the crack-

He nearly drops the box of protien bars at the sight before him.

Tim is leaned back up against his headboard, bare legs spread wide on top of his messy comforter. One hand is down between his legs, holding a dark red silicone dildo, the tip of which is disappearing inside of him, lower lips stretched to accomodate the length as he presses it further inside.

His other hand is covering his mouth, which makes sense as to why the noises Jason heard were so muffled- but it does make him wonder why Tim feels the need to keep himself quiet in an apartment he owns by himself.

Maybe it's a remnant of living at the manor? Or maybe he just likes the feeling of being gagged. Food for thought- but for later. Because the thoughts for now? Well, they're dominated by whats between the sight of Tim's two hands.

Jason's shirt.

One of his Red Hood shirts, actually. It's so big on Tim it nearly swallows him whole, hiding all of the toned muscles Jason knows Tim has. It makes him look younger and more fragile than he really is.

It also makes Jason's pants feel extremely tight.

Suddenly, his missing clothes make sense. Okay. Yeah. This is best case scenario, actually. Far better than Bruce or Dick being the ones breaking into his apartment. /This/ Jason can work with.

[lacomandante]

Average sight during Wellington's mission debriefing

[stjernespiller]

Another eye

Can also be found on AO3

You can’t see anything.

Blood drips from your face. You think it hurts, in that distant way everything does now. You try to get it out of your eye, just enough to see the fight, but your vision stays dark through the wet sounds of blood and flesh.

Stupid, you think to yourself. Stupid stupid idiot, zoning out in a battle. Should have just looped forward to the king instead of taking that bathroom break and fighting the floor boss. Couldn’t even blinding cry, so what did it matter?

Your family members are speaking. They don’t do that much in battle. You should probably listen.

Bonnie is crying.

Mirabelle heals you again, a light feeling drifting over you that does nothing to take away the weight in your stomach. You don’t know why she did it again, you just need to get this blood out of your eye and you can go back to the fight, stop zoning out just enough to beat the sadness blocking your way to asking the king the question you’ve been dreading.

Isabeau is saying something very close to you. You think it’s him, at least, from the deeper tone. You can’t hear it. Can’t fight can’t see can’t hear. You’re pathetic.

He touches your face.

It’s- new, strange, unexpected. You flinch, and he takes his hand back, like your family always does because you’re so weak you can’t even handle being touched. But the hand only leaves for a moment before it’s back again, holding your cheek. you stand very, very still.

Is the fight over? It has to be. You almost had it before you got distracted and let yourself get hit. Maybe Isabeau and Odile got it while Mirabelle was healing you. He wouldn’t be touching you like this if the sadness was still attacking, back turned to where it stood.

He wipes the blood away from your eye, unstained hand doing a much better job than yours had. You still can’t see. You still can’t hear what any of them are saying. He sounds close to tears, though.

Ah. You know why you can’t see.

It clears your hearing. Fear, for some reason, leaves when you exhale. You breathe deep in, again, and a full sense of calmness fills the space of the fear you breathe out.

The blood hadn’t covered your eye, it was coming out of it. Stupid Siffrin didn’t pay attention to the fight and lost another eye.

Isabeau is cursing, voice wet with tears. His other hand cups your jaw, keeping your head in place. He wipes more blood away, touching your eyeball with so much gentleness you feel it should heal it. Mirabelle crafts another healing spell, and Odile asks Bonnie for the one sweet tonic you picked up this loop.

You pick up your wooden arms, raising them slowly, like through a thick fog, to land your hands on Isabeau’s. He drops his hands from your face. You’re speaking to your whole party when you say, “It won’t work.”

Bonnie sobs. Someone, likely Odile, pours a tonic on your eye anyway.

You just need to get to a frozen tear. You don’t remember where they are, but maybe you could convince your family to lead you to one. If you could find some excuse. Or just swing your arms around until you hit one.

“The head housemaiden could heal you,” Mirabelle whispers, voice just as teary as Isabeau’s. “I should have taken more healing classes. Studied more on my own. I can’t do it. And by the time we get to her...”

She trails of. Crafts another healing cure. It works just as well as the others.

Healing of this scale needs to be done quick. You know, because you all talked about it when you lost your first eye, and when Isabeau showed you a small scar on his bicep. Go more than an hour or two without the right healing craft, and it’ll be permanent.

An idea lights up in your mind. You turn your head, but it all stays black, and you can’t look anyone in the eye.

“We can find a tear. Freeze me.” It’s so perfect. You almost have to stop yourself from grinning. The best excuse you could have ever asked for. “when you beat the king and everyone unfreezes, someone can help me.”

The lie is easy, as easy as all the others you’ve filled these two days with. They won’t beat the king without you. You won’t unfreeze with everyone else, and the head housemaiden will never help you. But you need to see to fight, and you need to loop to see, and you need a tear to loop.

It’s quiet for a moment. “Will that work?” Odile asks, voice strangely soft.

“It’s worth a try.”

“We’ll find a tear!” Bonnie yells. They either stamp their foot or jump in place. “We’ll defeat the king and you’ll get your eye back!” their voice is still wet. You don’t know why. Are they scared of fighting the king without you? Now you’re thinking about the loop you let them go alone. Stars, you really are an awful person. Of course they’re scared when you can’t keep fighting, and just before the king, too.

“Let’s bandage it until then.” Mirabelle says, and a piece of cloth presses against your face. It’s nice and cool. “Your coat is all dark know.”

Odile, you think, listening to the footsteps, start walking. “We can’t go back,” she says, “hopefully there will be some tears further in.”

You walk after her. The corridor is as familiar to you as the rest of this blinding house. You don’t need an eye to know the way.

Isabeau still hovers beside you, steps heavy but careful. He doesn’t offer to guide you, probably afraid to touch you, but you can imagine his arm reaching out, hovering above your shoulder, ready to steer you away from the walls or the floor or what else you might kill yourself on. Fragile little Siffrin, can’t walk on his own.

Bonnie is to your other side, rushing ahead for two steps at a time before falling back again, never straying far. They hiccup, and audibly sniff their snot in. You feel awful. The tear is close. You just need to loop.

Mirabelle walks in front of you with Odile. You can almost feel her continuously looking back at you, footsteps irregular in that familiar pattern. You don’t know why it’s familiar, and when you try to remember, it slips away like lightless sand between your fingers.

The air is tense. You slip into your mind, a little. Claude is up ahead, frozen in time with the secret ingredient. You turn a corner, and don’t think about how strange it looks to your family for you to walk through the corridor like this. Isabeau calling you graceful is there, memory pushing itself to the front of your mind, but you don’t force yourself to act as if you don’t know this place better than yourself. They won’t remember.

“Does it hurt?” Bonnie whispers besides you. You instinctively look towards them, but still see nothing but darkness around you. “Sorry, stupid question. Of course it hurts.” Their voice is still wet. They sniffle. “You just act like it doesn’t.”

You’ve been acting a lot. Almost everything feels like a secret, a lie, a play. This isn’t one of them. “It’s just an eye.”

It’s the wrong thing to say.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN JUST AN EYE?!” Bonnie yells, and their voice is still wet, but it cracks in fury. “You always do this, you don’t care about anything! It’s your eye, you can’t see, you lost both of them now! You have to care!”

They hate you. You remember, now, that they don’t love you. You couldn’t get yourself to help them this loop, too tired from hearing the same thing again and again and again. In this moment, Bonnie hasn’t hugged you. In this moment, you haven’t talked with Bonnie about losing your first eye. In this moment, they still hate you.

But it’s fine. You’re on your way to a tear. You’ve all been walking this stretch for a while, Mirabelle should see Claude soon, and then they’ll find the safe room, and after that - you think you’ve seen tears there before.

“It’s just an eye,” you say again, because you can’t bring yourself to pretend any differently, that it matters to you more than having to loop and run through the third floor again. “I’ve lost worse.”

Bonnie doesn’t respond. Claude has to be here soon, right? Was she always this deep in the corridor?

"How is your eyes not the worst thing you've lost?" Mirabelle asks, so quiet you almost don’t hear her. The kind of question she doesn’t expect a response to.

You shouldn’t respond. You don’t want to respond. How can you. You can’t speak it’s name, can’t tell them anything about it, and you already didn’t help Odile this loop because you couldn’t bring yourself to follow the blinding script again when she won’t understand and won’t remember and won’t care.

“I lost my home,” you say anyway, because it’s all one big cosmic joke. They won’t remember anyway. It doesn’t matter. “And I don’t even remember it.”

Does your country matter, if no one remembers it?

Isabeau speaks up, always the emotionally mature one. “I’m sorry, that sounds awful.”

“You never remember anything,” Bonnie sniffles, sounding tired. The kind of exhausted you get calming down from crying. You wish your stupid eye would let you cry.

You’ve already broken the dam. It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter. “I don’t.” Isabeau tugs at you cloak, pulling you slightly towards him. He lets you go, a meter more to the left of the corridor than before, and doesn’t explain anything. You don’t ask.

“Not even the word for a stuffed animal. Or a sharpening stone, which you use all the time. Or bananas.” It seems to calm Bonnie down, listing all the things you don’t remember. You follow along.

“Not the name for all the birds in Dormount. What bonding earring are. What we did last week. My family. My country. Your names, that one time.”

It doesn’t calm you down. Or the others, for that matter. Isabeau stopped walking. The other three follow suit.

You stop too, because the others did. Then you wish you had kept going, because now you’re just standing here, and you still can’t see anything.

“Sif...” Isabeau starts, soft and careful. “I’m sorry. We’ve been poking fun at your memory, but this... We need to talk, after we beat the king.”

You don’t want to talk. Have you already made the pun on your memory this loop? Bonnie said you couldn’t remember the name, so probably, you need something else, something to divert the attention, it doesn’t matter because they’ll forget but right now they remember and you don’t want to talk.

“Aren’t there any tears here?” You ask, and it comes out harsher than you planned.

“Oh! No, not yet, but there’s a door here, maybe on the other side?” Mirabelle sounds nervous and jumpy. Did you do that? Stars, you’re awful.

Then you think. There’s a door, and you hear someone open it. Claude was before the door. She was, you know it, you can’t have forgotten that, Mirabelle stops you all and says the same thing every time.

Did you all walk past her? Did... did Mirabelle change the script? Because you’re blind now?

Your head hurts. You walk towards the door, and only need to follow the wall for a moment before you reach it, having been pulled from the middle of the corridor by Isabeau. Was that.... because of Claude? Did he pull you out of the way?

When Mirabelle tells everyone to hurry through the safe room, they do so. No one talks about taking a break, and Odile’s stomach doesn’t rumble. You’re through the room without eating or touching the star.

“There!” Bonnie yells, first out of the second door.

“A tear,” Odile says simply. “Two, actually. Pick your poison, Siffrin.”

You chuckle, just a little. Lean right. But you don’t actually know where in the room the tears are. You just know the door to the king is straight ahead.

“Can I lead you to it?” Isabeau offers. You empty your mind, think of nothing, and hold out your hand.

He guides you in an arch. Let’s go of your hand. You reach out, and dream of nothing.

[puppetmaster13u]

I wasn't going to do any designs for when the robins were older yet but I was sleep deprived and just started sketching, so have a Red Hood.

Au belongs to @phoenixcatch7 and you need to check them out <3

[bittercappuccinu]

tried drawing a wallpaper for myself :)

shadow alone below because i like how he looks more