#but i did my part and its still not done !! and i still have a future phone call to be anxious about!!

[enchantress-arc]

I recently learned that a particular sub of mine still had some conditioning from a while back that hadn't been used in quite a while, specifically that she had a bit of a tendency to become incredibly dazed and begin dropping into trance when presented with a cock (though, talking to her afterwards, she doesn't think that this conditioning would activate for most people). I learned this through a tiny bit of teasing on a call, when she saw my wonderful Bitchbreaker through the shorts I was wearing, her eyes rolled back and her tongue came out. Learning that on its own was very interesting. More interesting was just how effective this conditioning was, just how deeply she dropped from such a small tease, from only seeing it through my clothing. Naturally, seeing the effect that already existing conditioning had on her was quite a "blood in the water" moment for me, and, with her permission, I continued. After teasing her a bit more by showing off, it became incredibly clear that she was very, very suggestible in this state. I took my fingers, made a circle, and told her that however far down those fingers were on my girlcock, that's exactly how much she'd feel thrusting into her mouth. With her eyes rolling back and her tongue out, she took that cock like a wonderful, adorable little slut, so much passion and energy pouring into this imaginary girlcock fucking her face over and over and over. When it leaked and I told her to lap it up, she did, she was so empty, so mindless, so focused on serving this perfect Bitchbreaker, and I decided to have a bit of fun, to break my pathetic bitch a little more. I made her choke on it, put the whole thing down her throat as roughly as I could over and over, watched her drop even deeper with every single thrust, and reinforced this particular little piece of conditioning, just a bit, making it stronger, making it apply to my tits as well, making it easier to activate, even if she just saw me playing with either through my clothes she'd begin to feel the effects. Watching her empty little head take all of that new conditioning in with so little resistance as she kept mindlessly serving was absolutely wonderful. And of course, I couldn't just leave things there. I had her listen to me. I told her that, if she did a good job, if I finished in her mouth, she'd simply fall asleep. She'll get a nice little taste of Mistress, of her sweet, irresistible girlcum, and then she'll sleep for me. And she did such a good job, following along, listening, and when I finished, I simply told her to sleep for me. Her tongue twitched, lapping it up just as she had done earlier, and she collapsed onto her bed. I ended up staying in this call with her for a bit after that, just staying nearby, whispering little affirmations, until I was sure she was properly asleep rather than just in trance. Afterwards I left the call, left her a message telling her I hope she had enjoyed herself, and about an hour and a half later, I received a message from her saying that she had woken up covered in drool, and that her memory of what had happened was fuzzy at best, (which is rather interesting because I had never given her any commands related to memory during this, but regardless, it was incredibly cute). I'll admit I haven't done sessions that intense, that explicitly sexual (and especially focused on my own body) very often, but it was very, very fun. Seeing her eyes rolled back for that long, her drooling and sucking on a part that wasn't even really there with so much passion, it was wonderful, and I need to do something similar to her in the future, because the look that adorable, pathetic bitch had on her face made me want nothing other than to find ways to break her in even more.

[burningred1989]

VOGUE COVER

A/N: Last Part of “She”

While preparing for his Vogue cover shoot, Harry was told to wait as the team finished with another model. To his surprise, the photographer assigned to paint his nails and photograph him turned out to be her.

She | Part 2: Cherry Scented Vinyl Shop

MASTERLIST

<<<<<

Two days later, Harry was driving to a studio in downtown LA, his mind still preoccupied with the girl from the vinyl shop. Their brief interaction had been replaying in his head on a loop—the way her cherry-red lips curved into a smile, the way her laugh sounded, and the playful look in her eyes when she saved her name as “Cherry.” He couldn’t shake her from his thoughts, no matter how hard he tried.

Arriving at the studio for his Vogue cover shoot, Harry parked and made his way inside. The bustling crew greeted him warmly, but he was quickly informed that the other model’s session was running late. “Take a seat for now, Harry,” the director said. “We’ll call you when we’re ready.”

As he settled into a chair, the director approached him again, this time holding a small selection of nail polish bottles. “We want painted nails for the cover—something bold. We’ll have one of our team members do it for you,” he explained.

Harry nodded, but his attention was elsewhere until the photographer from the other model’s shoot stepped into view. When she turned around, Harry froze. It was her.

The girl from the vinyl shop.

She froze, too, her eyes widening slightly in recognition. After a moment, she regained her composure and walked over, holding a tray of nail polishes.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Harry said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “So this is where you work?”

“Yup,” she replied, her voice steady but her cheeks slightly pink. “What color?”

Harry leaned forward, his smirk widening. “Cherry.”

She let out a soft chuckle at that, shaking her head as she opened the bottle. “Of course you’d pick that.”

She knelt beside him, carefully painting his nails with precision. Harry couldn’t help but admire her focus, the way her brows furrowed slightly as she worked.

“There,” she said, capping the bottle and standing up. “All done. Now come on, Styles, you’ve got photos to take.”

Before Harry could respond, she grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet, leading him toward the set. He laughed, the sound echoing through the studio as she dragged him along.

The shoot began, and Harry found himself feeling more comfortable than usual, knowing she was the one behind the camera. Her direction was calm and clear, her compliments genuine, and her laughter contagious whenever he cracked a joke between shots.

When the session wrapped up, she motioned him over to the monitor to review the photos. Harry leaned over her shoulder, his cherry-red nails tapping lightly against the desk as he scrolled through the shots.

“These are incredible,” he said, his voice full of admiration.

She turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting his. “Thanks,” she said softly, her tone filled with gratitude.

As the crew began packing up, Harry lingered near her, gathering his courage. “Well, now that you’re done with work,” he started, his voice casual but hopeful, “fancy grabbing a bite?”

She laughed, slipping her camera into its bag. “Oh, alright. I really do want a strawberry milkshake with cherries on top.”

Harry grinned, placing his hand on her lower back as they headed out. “You and your obsession with cherries.”

“Oh yeah?” she replied cheekily. “Says you. You literally have a song called Cherry.”

“Fair enough,” he admitted with a laugh.

At the diner, they slid into a booth and placed their orders. While waiting for their food, she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “So,” she began, her tone curious. “Why did you pay for my vinyls that day?”

Harry hesitated, his fingers playing with the edge of his napkin. “It’s… kind of a long story,” he said, his voice softer now.

“I’ve got time,” she replied, her eyes fixed on his.

Harry took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “You’re going to think I’m crazy,” he started with a nervous laugh. “But… I’ve been dreaming about you. For months, actually. I didn’t know who you were, but I could see your face so clearly. It was like you were real, but not. And then one night, I woke up and wrote a song about you. That’s where She came from.”

Her brows furrowed slightly, but she didn’t interrupt.

“And then,” he continued, “I saw you. At my show. You were in the crowd, swaying to the music, wearing cherry-red lipstick. I thought I was imagining things, but it was you. And before I could do anything, you were gone.”

She blinked, her expression a mix of surprise and disbelief. “That’s… wow,” she said finally. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Harry smiled sheepishly. “You don’t have to say anything. I just… I couldn’t let you walk out of that vinyl shop without doing something. Even if it was just paying for your records.”

She stared at him for a moment, her lips curving into a soft smile. “Well, I guess I should say thank you, then. For the records… and for the song.”

Their conversation shifted to lighter topics after that. They talked about their careers, their favorite bands, and their hobbies. At one point, she picked up a cherry from her milkshake and tied the stem into a knot with her tongue, grinning proudly as she held it up.

“Impressive,” Harry said with a laugh.

“Thanks,” she replied, popping the cherry into her mouth.

<<<<<

As they left the diner, the warm glow of the setting sun bathed the streets in gold. She sipped the last of her strawberry milkshake and glanced at Harry with a playful smile. “Thanks for the bite, Harry. You go on—I have to stop at the vinyl shop. A new record caught my eye the other day.”

Harry’s steps faltered for a moment, the thought of parting with her sinking in. “I’ll come with you,” he said quickly, not wanting the evening to end just yet.

She raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t protest, and they began walking toward the vinyl shop together. As they strolled, their hands occasionally brushed against each other, sending tiny jolts through Harry. He glanced down at their hands, debating whether to grab hers, but he hesitated, thinking it might be too soon. Instead, he hooked his pinky around hers.

She looked down at their linked pinkies, her eyes widening slightly in surprise before a soft smile spread across her lips. A faint blush dusted her cheeks, and Harry couldn’t help but grin at her reaction. Their hands swayed together as they walked, the sunlight catching on their matching cherry-red nails, making the moment feel surreal.

When they arrived at the vinyl shop, she immediately headed for a specific aisle, her pace quick and purposeful. Harry followed close behind, watching her scan the shelves until her eyes lit up. She reached for a record, holding it up triumphantly.

Turning to the side, she asked, “What do you think of this one?”

But as she turned, her face collided with Harry’s, her lips accidentally brushing against his.

Her eyes widened in shock as she pulled back. “Shit, I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, her cheeks flushing a deep red.

Harry stood frozen for a moment, his heart racing. Then, in his mind, he thought, Fuck it.

Before she could say another word, he leaned in again, closing the distance between them. This time, the kiss was deliberate, soft yet electric. She responded almost immediately, her hand coming up to rest on his cheek, her fingers brushing against his stubble. Harry mirrored her gesture, his palm cupping her face gently. Their cherry-painted nails glinted in the dim shop light, adding an almost cinematic quality to the moment.

The kiss deepened for a few seconds, their surroundings fading into nothingness. When they finally pulled away, slightly breathless, she noticed her cherry-red lipstick smudged on his lips and burst into laughter.

Harry tilted his head, confused at first, before realizing what had happened. He laughed too, his dimples appearing as he wiped at his mouth.

“Nice lipstick,” she teased, her voice light and playful as she turned to head toward the register.

Still recovering from the kiss, Harry followed her, intending to pay for her record again. But this time, she was faster, pulling out her card and swiping it before he could even reach for his wallet.

She turned to him with a smug grin. “Not this time, Styles.”

Harry shook his head, chuckling. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

As they walked toward the door, the bell above it jingling softly, Harry asked casually, “So, who’s your favorite One Direction member?”

She stopped in her tracks, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “Tomlinson,” she said with mock seriousness, crossing her arms.

Harry’s jaw dropped dramatically. “Louis?!”

Before she could say anything else, he scooped her up bridal style, causing her to yelp in surprise.

“Well, too bad!” he said, grinning as he carried her out of the shop.

She burst into laughter, playfully smacking his chest. “Harry, put me down!”

“Not until you change your answer,” he teased, his laughter echoing through the street.

They were both laughing so hard that they didn’t notice the curious stares from passersby or the quiet clicking of cameras from nearby fans. For Harry, the world had narrowed to just her—the girl who lived in his dreams and was now very much a part of his reality.

[bappablipblip]

[Spoilers for the Warframe Whispers in the Walls and 1999 Quests]

The way that Albrecht responds to the Indifference in this scene is so pivotal in my opinion. It opens up a lot of conversation about Albrecht Entrati and his motives.

He immediately recognizes the feel of the hand on his shoilder without even looking. He knows that the Indifference took on the form of his lover. The way the hand creeps up and caresses shoulder may not have matched exactly, but he knows what Loid feels like.

His face even screams that he knows who it is. But he knows it isn’t real. Loid isn’t ACTUALLY with him, which is the whole point.

Albrecht went to incredible lengths to keep the Indifference away from Loid but I interpret this part of the quest as him accepting the fact that he’s not going to see his beloved for a long time, yet still indulging in the fact that he can see him again.

But it also implies that Albrecht now knows that the Indifference is aware of Loid and has been watching him for some time (which may have driven Albrecht to have a bigger sense of urgency when the Drifter refused to kill “Rusalka”). It understand that there is a bond, but it can’t replicate it in a way that matters.

The Indifference shifts between the scientist and his assistant, mocking their dynamic as a way to torture Albrecht. It implies that Albrecht is abusive and toxic towards Loid, with the former referring to the latter as his “faithful man-cat”. In this warped view of their relationship, Albrecht does whatever he pleased to Loid and feels like he can treat and do whatever he wants to his lover, even going as far as to putting his hands on him. And Loid is seen as a forever obedient and unrequited servant, devoted and damsel-like.

As seen in the Whispers in the Walls quest, this isn’t at all how the characters genuinely behave towards one another. Loid is PISSED at Albrecht for leaving him, not desperate to get him back. He scorns their relationship, although he slowly starts to heal, but overall wants nothing to do with him. And Albrecht is gentle with him in the moments before he departs to 1999.

This is what makes Albrecht realize what the Indifference’s weakness is, it cannot fathom love.

All it knows is fear and negative emotions. Up until now, it has never replicated anything good or tasteful. It can’t understand what love is worth and what it can make people do for one another.

Albrecht literally goes back in time to protect Loid and to some (more assumed) extent, his daughter and in-laws, out of love. Even if Loid could not see the adoration Albrecht held for him (which is totally valid, its literally entrati.), the Indifference tries to use him as a method of torture against the Doctor. It’s also what makes Albrecht realize what he needs the Drifter to do. He tells the Drifter to develop relationships with every Hex member so that they trust them enough to let the player help themselves.

If Albrecht was loveless and did not have people in his life that he cared about, he probably would not have worked so hard to fight the Indifference. Sure, he’s pretty egotistical and a narcissist with a slight god complex, but he did not need to do everything he’s done to fight the Murmur. He’s too smart, he would know when it is hopeless. But he still fights, for love.

Also, if Albrecht wasn’t Albrecht and the Indifference could copy Loid’s mannerisms to a tee, then the doctor would have definitely felt more despair and struggle during his torture session.

That’s just my rant. I realized not many ppl have talked about this yet.

Ha! That's it, isn't it? The poison to your plan. And what is that? Love.

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Choices

Written using prompts from The Storymatic set.

“Villain, stop!” Hero shouted over the howling wind, “you don’t have to do this!”

Villain turned, tears in their eyes and an incredulous expression on their face.

“You think I want to do this!?” they demanded, the wind carrying their voice and amplifying it so it was like thunder in Hero’s ears, “I’m only doing this so you won’t die! Now get out of here!”

Hero stared, eyes wide and mouth agape. This didn’t make any sense. They threw an ice shard, hoping to break Villain’s concentration. Villain smacked it into tiny flurries that whipped around in the fierce gale.

“Supervillain made it clear, it was either you or the city,” Villain said, their power reaching a crest, “I’m sorry, Hero.”

The wind took on a conical shape, forming a giant tornado. It began to suck in everything in its path. Villain set it loose on the city, then tackled Hero to the ground.

“We need to get to shelter,” Villain said, “any air I manipulate won’t harm me, but it could still hurt you…”

“Get off of me!”

Hero pushed Villain off with hands that were ice-cold, glaring daggers that would make anyone shrink back.

“Look what you’ve done! All those people are going to die, because of me!? You thought I would want that on my conscience!? I’d rather die- literally!”

Villain looked hurt, then their face hardened.

“Well too bad! I’m the only one who’s allowed to be selfish in this relationship! And if I had to choose again, I’d pick you every time!”

“Why!? Why was I even part of the choice!?” Hero demanded.

“Because I love you, and Supervillain knows it!”

Villain didn’t seem to realize what they had said, but Hero certainly did- they were blushing scarlet all over.

“O-oh,” Hero said quietly.

Villain grumbled, getting to their feet and yanking Hero up with them. They embraced them tightly.

“Now, we are getting to shelter, and you are not going to fight me on this. Deal?”

“I can’t just come quietly-”

“Deal!?” Villain repeated, harsher this time.

“No,” Hero sighed, “no, I’m sorry. I have to try and stop it.”

Hero let go of Villain, but before they could break free, there was a sharp prick in the back of their neck.

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Villain sighed.

“No,” Hero said, “no, no, Villain, you can’t do this-”

“Believe it or not, Hero, your little ice tricks won’t do anything against a 300 mile an hour tornado. Shocking, I know. We’re going now.”

“No…” Hero mumbled, vision already starting to blur.

“I’m sorry.”

Hero felt the world tilt on its axis as Villain repositioned them into a bridal carry. They closed their eyes just as the screams began.

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[febuwhump]

Honestly making it a ‘vote as many times as you want’ approach took away the joy for me. I wanted to see actual voting not spamming whatever a few people with time to kill wanted. Feels like it’s expanding beyond people who would actually participate. It’s making me want to do this event less. I don’t want to feel like I have to spend hours spamming the options I like in order to give them a shot. Voting once would have made more sense. Or parring the list down and running tumblr polls to cull the list. This just feels immature.

i totally get how you feel and your feelings are totally deserved! this is how i see it:

the poll has always been vote as many times as you want. i've never installed a limit, and historically people have voted more than once. that is how we had the actual, original voter fraud last year, where one vote per person was implied until one user started spam-voting waterboarding in order to get it in. this was funny. it is no surprise that everyone wants to try it this year.

every year we try new things and do different stuff. i don't think the prompt list that comes out of this will be any worse off for people campaigning and trying to get their prompt in; i don't think the community will be either. the members of the community who are invested and deeply involved are the ones spamming for their favourites; the people who aren't are not necessarily not going to do the event. they were always going to see the prompt list and decide based on that - and the prompt list will still be good because the top 100 prompts are all good and i will curate the winners.

the actual voting is never revealed, so at no point historically either was it evident how people voted other than for the top 30. that is done for a reason: i reserve the right to look at the winners and go, no that's got too many repetitive prompts and a few are going to get switched out. this year, people are calling this deserved tyranny. because it's funny.

and your other options aren't bad at all; they just require more work from me, the person with the full time job and multiple hobbies and the likelihood to get burned out on this event too early by doing too much who is the only admin. a single poll and then answering questions is the most viable option for me - if you want to see an event run that way, then you're more than welcome to pick a month and go for it!

i get that it feels immature, but i think that you might be mislabelling people's sincere enjoyment. i don't think there's any harm in people who really want something voting for the prompts they want more than once; just like i don't think there's anything stopping anyone at all from finding out that their prompt isn't on the final list and then writing it anyway

finally, and this might sound harsh but i say it with all the love in the world: you don't have to take part. if you aren't enjoying the way its being run this year, then you don't have to! or you can blacklist the propaganda tag and febuwhump in its entirety until january 1st when the prompt list comes out and then see if its something you want to take part in! not everyone wants to do every part of the event and that's fine!

i'm sorry that you're not having as much fun this year, but i honestly think this method has engaged the community far more than the only-vote-once route did previously, and my goal is to try lots of different things to get the biggest and best turnout. if, in the end, we get less works than we did last year, or less people actually taking part, then i'll reevaulate

and also. what's so wrong with being immature anyway?

[wickedsmille]

batman, robin, sentient super suits, oh my! part 3

Ta~ da~! Part 3 and done. (Here's Part 1 and Part 2, if ya want.) It didn't go exactly as I wanted but when I went back to rewrite part of it I couldn't make myself do it so. Welp, it is what it is. But, here we go -

---------

A little while later, Tim yelps from his side of the bed. Jason’s head whips around to see what the commotion is, bumping shoulders with Tim who has also hastily sat up.

Craning his neck, Jason looks down over the side of the bed to where Tim is staring, dumbfounded. All he sees is Tim’s bag, open with the Red Robin costume on top. Sort of strange since leaving their gear out in the open isn’t exactly Bat-protocol. No telling when a nosy or distracted maid might barge in. Otherwise, nothing is amiss. Color Jason confused.

“What the fuck,” Tim breathes as he scoots further back till he’s half in Jason’s lap which, awesome, but weird.

“What?” Jason snaps. 

Over the side of the bed, the sleeve of the Red Robin suit snakes up and slaps down hard on Tim’s wrist near the edge of the bed. He makes a high noise of surprise then he’s fully in Jason’s lap. Still awesome, very much so, but bigger fish to fry and everything. Such as the irrefutable proof that Red Robin has gained the nebulous honor of having a mind of its own. And it’s apparently not very happy with Tim if the way it snaps out to hit him again is any indication. This time, Tim pulls his hand back before he can get slapped.

“How-” Tim chokes out, whipping his head around to stare at Jason.

Their faces are so damned close Jason can feel the too fast puffs of Tim’s breath against his cheek. It’s doing him absolutely no favors in staying focused on the issue at hand. 

Tim’s eyes narrow. “Did you do something to it?”

“Me? That thing was totally normal until you got a hold of it. What did you do to it?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Un-fucking-likely!”

A pitter patter of sound draws both of them away from the edge of their budding argument. Back at the side of the bed, the Red Robin suit is padding its sleeves against the blanket to draw their attention. Guess it didn’t like where their conversation was headed. 

“Oh yeah, that thing is totally alive,” Jason says. 

“No” Tim drawls sarcastically. He frowns at the suit. A flash of understanding brightens his face as his mouth drops open. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”

“Mind cluing in us pea brained peons?”

Without looking, Tim hits Jason in the chest with the back of his hand. “All the malfunctions!”

Tim doesn’t need to say anything else for Jason to pick up what he’s laying down. The events of the past few weeks make a lot more sense now. Including their current predicament which has led to a lap full of dressed down, sleep warm Tim. Touche, Red Robin, well done. He has to hand it to the suit. Red Hood is all overt action with very little subtly but Red Robin had completely flown under his radar. Even yelling at it earlier was based more on a vague hunch.

“I’m glad I hollered at it earlier then.”

Tim’s eyes snap back to him, incredulous and amused. “You were talking to an inanimate object?”

“First of all, it isn’t inanimate any more. Second, don’t act like you’ve never talked at something before.”

Tellingly, Tim stays silent. 

“Look at it this way, you’ve been chosen,” Jason says with a shrug. “Better than, I guess, since you brought the fuckin’ thing to life.”

Tim does this odd thing where he goes boneless. As in he falls limp against Jason’s chest with his head resting on Jason’s shoulder. For a second, he’s worried something is wrong. Tim wouldn’t be Tim if he weren’t wound tighter than a spring. He’s the most neurotic sonuvabitch Jason knows. To have him so soft and pliant? It’s kind of throwing him for a loop.

Looking down at Tim’s face, Jason’s worries bleed away. The content, gentle happiness he finds there, only a thin thread of bitter sadness belying it, tells Jason all he needs to know. Once more, because he’s just that good, Jason has stuck his foot in his mouth. Except in a good way this time. 

Thinking back, Tim told him what it was like when he was first Robin. It sure as hell hadn’t felt good when Robin didn’t want anything to do with him. He can’t imagine what it was like for Tim to have to actively fight against the suit. To push and push and push till he was finally, reluctantly accepted. Only to be dropped and have nothing waiting for him, ready for him. The lonely ache of wondering if he’s good enough and that’s why a suit doesn’t come for him. Needing to push past all that, piled on top of the long hours and endless horrors the nightlife brings, and keep on keepin’ on. 

But Jason has pointed out the obvious which he doesn’t doubt Tim completely overlooked. In agreement, Red Robin raises its sleeve and points at Jason.

“Oh,” Tim breathes. “I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“Me neither. Way to make history.”

Tim rolls his eyes. “But I don’t get it. Why do all of this?”

Once more, Red Robin pointedly gestures towards Jason. He glares at the damn thing because if anyone needs to shut up, it’s Red Robin. Given the genuine curiosity and bafflement in Tim’s voice, Jason’s pretty sure he’s not being purposefully obtuse. Granted, Tim can lie with the best of them, the little scamp. Jason has been meaning to get a few lessons. His gut is telling him this isn’t one of those times. Tim really doesn’t get it and Jason would like it to stay that way until he can either nut up and confess or brutally murder the impulse to fuck him raw at the first opportunity.

“No idea,” Jason replies lightly.

On his side of the bed, Jason’s bag wiggles violently. He groans and clenches his jaw, unwilling to let Red Hood enter the chat. This is a recipe for disaster. Adding in his suit won’t help him in keeping his inconvenient crush under wraps. For all he knows, Red Robin and Red Hood have been colluding together to make this shit happen. 

“What,” Tim starts before trailing off. 

The stare he pins Jason down with is so intense and invasive Jason feels like he needs to shove Tim off and disappear for a few months. It’s something akin to being flayed alive. His eyes skitter across Jason’s face, breaking him down bit by bit without needing to say a word or lift a finger. Really, Jason should get Tim away from him before he peels away the last layers keeping Jason from being truly perceived. 

Lightning quick and catching Jason unaware, Tim lunges across him to drape himself over Jason’s side of the bed. With deft fingers, he yanks open Jason’s bag. There the Red Hood is in all its glory, helmet on top of a bundle of heavy padding and armor. The lights on the eyes flash and Tim blinks down at it. 

“Hey, now!” Jason chides, dipping down so he can shut the bag before the shit show starts.

He doesn’t get that far before he’s getting full-on backhanded by the sleeve of his own suit. Wow, the suits are being aggressive. He’s not even sure what to do so he tenses up and stares at the wall. There’s enough semtex in the bag to blow it all to hell, right? He could totally ask Alfred to call up Lucius for a new suit. If Tim can finagle a consciousness into a regular suit, Jason should be able to as well. Maybe the next one won’t be such an asshole. Though he doubts it. On all counts.

He doesn’t remember if actually brought any plastique. Lucius isn’t exactly itching to do Jason any favors and Alfred would be more likely to politely mock him for doing something as stupid as blowing up his own suit. There’s no way for them to know how Red Robin is Red Robin now. And he’s, admittedly, a major asshole so it only makes sense whatever suit gets stuck with him has a personality to match. 

Tim bops the helmet and scowls at it. “Rude.” Red Hood doesn’t hit Tim. Instead, it pats him on the cheek gently. “Much better,” Tim says, satisfied.

Jason gapes at the interaction. “That is so unfair. What the fuck!”

“I told you things went well when I covered for you.”

“Apparently. Maybe a little too well.”

“I wouldn’t say that. It seemed like the Red Hood lik-”

Flipping over so his ass is seated in the well of Jason’s legs, back arched over his thigh, Tim looks at Jason. Jason doesn’t like the way Tim is looking at him. It’s less wondering and more knowing. So he does what he does best and tries to push Tim off him. They’ve been too close to too long and the need to run is an overwhelming compulsion at this point. Like a goddamn lamprey, Tim winds his arms around Jason’s waist and holds fast. The guy doesn’t go anywhere despite Jason’s best efforts since he isn’t in a position to get the leverage he needs to pry Tim off.

“You like me,” Tim says simply.

Jason chokes as the bottom of his stomach falls out. “No, I don’t,” Jason denies.

His helmet makes a high pitched whine of protest like the voice modulator got hit with a current and fried the circuitry. Goddamn, he thinks he even hears a click from one of his guns. Red Hood is a straight up thug. Which Jason loves but, holy hell, right now he definitely doesn’t. Being bullied by what amounts to a souped up, military grade Call of Duty cosplay hits him right in his pride. Forget Bruce and the clusterfuck of that whole thing, this is his new villain origin story. 

Red Robin isn’t so charmed by his denial either. The suit flops onto the bed, farther up this time, so it can nail him right in the shin. Jason makes a pained noise more from being startled than it actually hurting. If the blanket weren’t draped over his legs, then, yeah, that would’ve stung. Great, now, he’s being bullied by the equivalent of a theater major seamstress�� fever dream too. When will the injustices end?

Throwing his hands up, literally because he’s so far past settling for metaphorically doing it, Jason looks to the ceiling and prays for patience. And to not get socked in the jaw by Tim for what he’s about to say. Still, to the pock-marked ceiling, Jason says, “Fine, yes, I like you! Jesus, fuck, everybody lay offa me! This is the worst kind of peer pressure. At least I could cunt punt a peer but no. I get some goddamn JoAnn Fabric cast offs harassing me.”

“And me,” Tim pipes up.

“And you! Which, can’t we focus on the miracle of your suit showing signs of intelligent, manipulative and kind-of-dickish life? Let’s go back to you getting misty eyed over a newly minted supernatural costume.”

“We’ll come back to that,” Tim agrees, “but first we should probably deal with this. Just, Jason...”

Well, shit, he doesn’t like Tim’s tone. It’s not the voice of a man about to lay his heart bare in preparation for an emotionally charged conversation destined to end in a heated kiss and a roll in the sack before the camera cuts to black. Nor is it shy and demure or happy and accepting. Jason doesn’t want to put a name to it but, if he had to, he’d say Tim sounds distinctly awkward and uncomfortable. Hesitant and pained. This does not bode well for his chances. He can already smell the acrid, sharp scent of his chances going up in flames. 

“There’s a lot between us,” Tim says somewhere around the bottom of Jason’s ribcage. “That we’ve never talked about.” Now Tim pulls away fully until he’s back on his side of the bed.

Jason knows a let down when he hears one. He opens his mouth to tell Tim to can it, spare them both the continued embarrassment. On some level, Jason always knew anything between them would be doomed. Forget burning the bridge between himself and Tim, Jason incinerated it. With prejudice. The fact they’ve come so far already is a miracle. It’s the little, emaciated street kid in him that makes him greedy, to take and take and take until he can’t anymore. Well, this is the can’t anymore, he guesses. But now he’ll lose it all. 

The words are there on the tip of his tongue when his helmet makes another whirring, whining noise of protest on one side of the bed and there’s the pat, pat, pat of fabric against fabric on the other. His head whips between the Red Hood, disgruntled and displeased, and Red Robin attacking Tim’s leg much as it had Jason. Tim quickly scoots back towards Jason and pulls his legs in. In response, Red Robin flops onto the bed again and nails Tim right across the face. 

Jason has never claimed to be a good person so he laughs. “Okay, I’m starting to feel fuckin’ hunted here. I get why they’re coming at me but-”

He breaks off since there’s no point in finishing the sentence. Tim is a genius. Point blank, period. It’s a verifiable fact Jason hates and likes in equal measure. If his big brain can’t piece together a puzzle, Jason doesn’t stand a chance but by no means is he a slouch. For this, understanding why Red Robin and Red Hood are coming at Tim just as hard as they are at him, Jason doesn’t need a three digit IQ. 

“You little shit, you like me too,” Jason accuses, honestly mad Tim was about to dismiss him out of hand. 

Tim doesn’t say anything which is answer enough for Jason. Not for Red Robin who whips out at Tim again, making him curl up tighter and away from the offending garment. Or offended garment, in this case. 

“I’m bad at this,” Tim hisses to his suit. “God, why are you so-”

“Oddly violent?”

“Persistent,” Tim insists, glaring at Jason. 

Jason fixes him with a look.

“And a manipulative asshole,” Jason supplies but he isn’t talking about Tim’s suit anymore.

“I’m bad at this,” Tim says again, this time directly to Jason.

“Tim.”

“Jason.”

Red Robin and Red Hood voice their displeasure as much as they can.

Rolling his eyes, Jason talks at the ceiling again because it’s easier. “Why wouldn’t you just say that? Okay, you’re bad at it, fine. I literally paved the way for you to just say ‘Golly gee, me too’.”

“I’m awkward, okay?” Tim blurts, irritated and not bothering to pull on his usual carefully crafted mask of indifference. “I’m not exactly the greatest when it comes to interpersonal relationships. You can just ask Steph.” After a brief pause, Tim backpedals, “Actually, don’t. Never do that.”

“Well now I have to.”

“You really, really don’t.”

“Maybe if you’d stop being such a coward-”

“Shut up.”

“Make me,” Jason says maturely.

Jason should’ve known the kiss was coming as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Not once has Jason seen Tim back down from a challenge once it has been set down in front of him. Including the time Jason gave him a spectacular beat down in Titans Tower and demanded to know if Tim thought he was good enough for Robin. Half unconscious and bloodied, Tim had said yes. 

This isn’t so different, Jason thinks, because he kisses back, brutal and vicious and commanding, while Tim takes it all then dishes it back. More than once, Jason’s teeth clack against Tim’s but neither of them pull away. Somewhere between now and Jason’s head emptying of rational thought, his hand has found its way to the back of Tim’s neck, keeping him in place. He doesn’t have to worry about Tim pulling away, not really, with the way Tim holds onto Jason’s waist.

The world drops away till there’s nothing but the soft, barely there moans Tim breathes into him. He swallows them greedily, vows to get more of them till he’s had his fill. His other hand, the one not latched onto Tim, finds Tim’s thigh and kneads at the muscle there. One of Tim’s hands slides down and skirts along the edge of his shirt till it teasingly slips under the fabric. The rough, calloused pads of Tim’s fingers ghost over his stomach, making the muscles twitch. 

It all comes back into focus, hitting him like a freight train, when the hand on Tim’s leg can’t wander any farther up than it already has even though he knows he’s nowhere near his ultimate end goal. Cracking open his eyes, Jason looks down to see Red Robin forming a blockade to preserve Tim’s chastity. Red Robin doesn’t get to mastermind them into a bed together then dictate what they do when Tim’s making those encouraging, willing little noises.

Leaning back to catch his breath, Jason reluctantly lets go of Tim’s leg and scruffs the Red Robin suit then tosses it over the side of the bed with a growl. 

“That was uncalled for,” Tim tells him.

“You want me to stop?” Jason asks.

“No. Very much no.”

“Then it was called for,” Jason asserts. 

“Fair enough,” Tim laughs. He huffs as his eyes dart from one side of the bed to the other. “It’d be weird to do anything with the suits here though.”

“They literally fondle us on a nightly basis. I think their definition of propriety is a little different from ours,” Jason points out. 

Looking thoughtful, Tim says, “Huh, I knew the Red Hood suit was chafing weird when I wore it.”

Leaning over, Jason slaps his helmet and shoves his bag under the bed. “Goddamn dirty dog, keep your kevlar weave off.” 

The Red Hood doesn’t make a peep or put up any protest. Jason doubts it’s because the suit wore itself out being more active than usual. Stupid thing probably doesn’t have a good counter argument, having been caught out and ruthlessly thrown under the bus by Tim. 

“In its defense, it really made things easy and protected me well. It was, sweet, too, I guess?” Tim offers.

“Well, good,” Jason replies lamely. “Can’t say the same about Red Robin,” he adds with a glare at Tim’s side of the bed where Red Robin is hopefully puddled on the ground and content to stay there.

Meddlers, the both of them. Grade A meddlers of the highest order. 

“Yeah,” Tim says contemplatively. 

To poke the bruise one more time, Jason tells him, “Yanno, the suit’s probably something special because you’re something special.”

The sappy ass words make Jason feel like the world’s biggest tool but it’s worth it for the instant flush. His cheeks and ears and neck all go a delicious pink that Jason wants to bite at. Take the light dusting and make it vibrant. Create a portrait of deep reds and purples wherever he can. Jason thinks he’ll get the chance to do that sooner than expected when Tim tackles him. After a brief scuffle, Jason rolls them so Tim’s under him with his wrists pinned and legs draped on either side of Jason’s hips. Tim could get out of the hold. Jason isn’t trying to really keep him down. 

But Tim doesn’t. 

He allows it which is enough for Jason to settle his weight over Tim and forget about the busy body suits probably basking in smug satisfaction for getting them to this point.

[runningfrom2am]

requiem // part seven

summary: according to coriolanus snow, his best friend had the most beautiful voice in all of panem. she had been training her whole life constantly to get where she was; being up for a residency at the most elite opera house in all of panem. singing was her passion. her true love; and when that got stripped from her in a second, his world became a whole lot quieter. he loathed every minute of it.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 1.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: opera singer!mentor!reader (blink and you'll miss it), she's kind of a prodigy!! p cool imo, mute!reader, bestfriend!coryo, friends to lovers trope ooo, mentions of graphic violence early on (particularly the prologue) but after that it's pretty safe, depictions of ptsd/trauma, mental illness and minor suicidal ideation but at least she's not entirely alone, descriptions of minor medical treatments and use of medication.

a/n: omg hi i am not dead i swear i was just in school which,,, was pretty close to death but here i am

also, reminder to follow @runningfrom2am-library and turn on my notifications there to join my taglist for this series!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

Coryo was getting frustrated that it seemed you didn't want to tell him anything. Tell, write, confess through charades- whatever it would take. Whatever it was that you went to Dr. Gaul about, you were taking it to the grave.

He had to be fair, though, he was scared to ask directly.

When he went to your house that evening, you had just wanted to talk about his apprenticeship with her. You were so excited, and the fact that your reason for attending the citadel was still an unknown slipped easily to the back of his mind because you were smiling again.

'I'm so proud! :)' You had written on that notepad of yours moments after pulling away from a hug, nearly bouncing with excitement as you held the book up for him to read your thoughts.

You were smiling again, and he wasn't going to ruin that for the world- so he just trusted that if it was important you would tell him, because that's what you always did. You told each other nearly everything, important or not, and this was an odd exception but as the weeks went by he figured that it was just nothing at all, and you had forgotten the event altogether.

Your parents weren't home today, but your staff let Coryo in anyway, as they always did. You had told them years ago he could come and go as he pleased, so they were used to it. They rarely even notified you of his arrival anymore, it had well and truly become his second home.

The halls of the large estate were quiet until he reached the wing of your room. Opera music poured from behind your closed bedroom door, a song he had never heard before. But it was your voice he was hearing over the crackling of the track, no doubt in his mind.

His feet carry him faster down the hall, and he could just about hear his heart in his throat.

It was you. You were singing again.

Coryo opens the bedroom door, hesitantly, almost; equal parts delighted and shocked and scared he was dreaming. But there you were. Your back was to him, your form encased in tulle and embroidered silk around the bodice that's tied loosely, just enough to hold it on. In the mirror he could see your reflection, your eyes closed for the time being and lips moving with every word. But you weren't singing.

Your record player spins and cracks in the corner, volume cranked as high as it would go and he wonders if that was an intentional reflection of the power behind your voice in its natural form. To convince you that you were back in that moment, that you had never changed. Every year your parents get you a record of every performance and dress rehearsal you had done that year, assuming they were good enough to make the annual cut. This one, he recognizes is from last year. Watching you pretend to be the girl you once were, god, Coryo feels his cheeks burning- he shouldn't be seeing this, he's most definitely intruding, even though he would love to sink into this moment and just for a few minutes, be able to pretend with you until maybe it would just come true.

He takes a small step back, intending to close and then knock on the door to give you a chance to prepare for his entry, but you hear the slightest creak of the floor under his heel. You nearly jump two feet in the air where you're stood across the room, hands flying to your chest to hold onto your racing heart, feeling it kickstart from the sudden intrusion. You catch a glimpse of him in the mirror and spin around quickly, dress swinging around your legs as soft as a cloud while your lips form his name.

"Sorry." He chuckles, watching you bunch up the skirt and stomp over to your record player. The fact that your embarrassment was quickly manifesting as upset was something he couldn't help but find nothing short of adorable.

You turn off the record with a huff of silent frustration, your cheeks burning under his gaze. You've no doubt scratched the vinyl in your haste, but you can't be bothered to care at the moment. The next time you played it you'd only hear this moment anyways, so you knew this one would soon be joining the oldest ones at the back of your closet.

"So... how's it going?" Coryo asks, but the slight upturn at the corner of his lips is enough to make you feel that he's laughing at you.

You wave at him dismissively, brow still creased and that little pout still forming your expression as you stomp over to your walk in closet and close the door with a dramatic slam.

He laughs a little to himself, making his way over to your bed and sitting down on the plush sheets, placing his bag next to him and rifling through it to gather what he had brought for you.

He wasn't sure if you would like it, he was going out on a bit of a limb here- but the Plinth Prize was treating him so well he could afford to fumble a few impromptu gifts.

You emerge a minute or so later, still kicking your poofy dress off your feet and into the depths of the closet as you pull the drawstrings on your pyjamas tighter. They may have been Coryo's at some point, a relic from days past when you were allowed to have sleepovers, but by now it hardly mattered.

You fix Coryo with a glare over your shoulder as you shove the closet door closed and he makes quick work of asking how your "performance" went.

"I'm kidding! I'm sorry. Should have knocked." He laughs, shrugging as you pad over to the bed, slippered feet hardly making a sound. You throw yourself down next to him, dragging your hands down your cheeks before sitting up again and grabbing your notepad from the side table.

'If you tell anyone, you'll be the next one to lose your voice.'

"Ha, ha." Coryo mocks, rolling his eyes. "I'm hoping you'll forgive me when you see what I brought for you."

You tilt your head, eyes flicking to his bag as he pulls a couple thin books from it. Sheet music. He's honestly surprised you couldn't smell it as soon as it passed the threshold of your property within his bag.

You take the books from him eagerly, hardly sparing a glance to the cover of the first one before beginning to flick through it, eager to see its contents and imagine the sound. In your mind, your fingers are already trailing over the keys discovering a new pattern, a new melody to fill the painful silence of your world.

Until... it doesn't work. You're looking at the sheet music and the sound doesn't come, you can't picture it the way you normally can.

Your brow furrows as you flip back to the front page.

"It's for a guitar." Coriolanus explains, having picked up on your obvious distress right as you read the cover.

You give him a thoroughly confused look, the blue of his eyes offering you no explanation like it so often did.

"I thought maybe... it might be good for you to try something different. If you wanted." He adds, leaning back on his palms. "I mean, you're really good at piano, and singing, and the harp sometimes, right? So I just thought maybe trying a new instrument would give you something to do, a bit of a change of... musical scenery, if you will."

You tilt your head slightly as you look down at the pages again, considering his suggestion. All you can think of, selfishly, is Lucy Gray playing that guitar in her interview, and the way Coryo looked at her before she died in the Games. How her voice seemed to enchant him when she sang at the reaping, and how he had looked over at you expecting a pleasant reaction from you as well, expecting you to see some form of kinship in her.

You force a slightly tense smile onto your lips, nodding in agreement. "Thank you." You mouth to him, trying to seem cheery about it as you wrap an arm around his shoulders to give him a hopefully convincing side hug which he happily returns.

It didn't look that hard, after all, and you're sure you could play guitar better in a few weeks than Lucy Gray Baird ever could after a lifetime of practice. There's only one way to prove it.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[cliosunshine]

𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Jason Todd x dragon trainer!reader

Summary: after a portal mysteriously opened in your world, setting all of your dragons loose, you must find a way to take them all back home before it's too late and before you catch feelings for a certain cute guy in a red helmet

Warnings: none; jason struggles to come to terms with the fact that you and your dragons might actually be harmless

Word count: 4.0k

A/N: third part, yay! I finally got around to finish it. Now that i have more free time, I hope to write and post chapter four by the end of the year lol

You watched in horror at the gun pointed right in front of Pyro, your beloved albeit extremely chaotic and destructive fire dragon.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” You yelped as you raised both of your hands and fully turned towards Jason, the two of you still on Obsidian’s back and in between two building complexes, “Hood, drop the gun. Now.”

Although you didn’t know him at all, you really didn’t want the vigilante sitting behind you to accidentally get the both of you roasted like rotisserie chickens by Pyro’s fire breath.

He scoffed, clearly agitated, his gun still up in the air. You had never been that close to a weapon in your entire life and oh god was it terrifying. You then remembered he actually had two of them strapped on his thighs and gulped nervously.

“What do you mean he melted your bike?” you asked, trying to dissuade the situation. You noticed how Pyro was eyeing Red Hood with a knowing look and that gave you more reason to believe that they had actually met before.

“That asshole came up to me, tried to fire his stupid flames in my direction and then he had to set my building’s garages on fire, melting my bike in the process,” his exasperated tone made you look away, heat spreading across your face in embarrassment at your dragon’s actions. It was like having another adult telling you about something bad your child had done.

You eventually sighed in defeat, “Can you at least lower your gun? We can talk about his whole ordeal later, but right now you’re scaring him,”

You couldn’t see it, but by the way he began laughing humourlessly you knew he had a baffled look on his face.

“I’m scaring him?”

“Yes, very much so”

A beat passed, but he eventually strapped his gun away, definitely giving the dragon a dirty look.

In the meantime, you began taking your lasso out, ready to stand up. As you did so, Pyro understood what that action meant and bolted away, flapping his burgundy scaled wings faster than you had thought imaginable.

Fuck.

“Obi, go!” That was everything you needed to say to make him begin chasing his buddy. He, too, was frustrated by his out-of-pocket behaviour. As you skimmed through the skyscrapers of the city, you felt Hood’s arms snake up your waist again, squeezing you gently. You could feel his gloved fingers twitching against the fabric of your sweater as you leaned forward and planted your hands in between your dragon’s horns, making him fly faster.

It was a tiring game of cat and mouse, but with all the times you had to retrieve Pyro back at home, you were pretty confident in yours and Obsidian’s abilities.

As predicted, the fire dragon’s erratic and impulsive nature led him to an enclosed area, where it seemed the nearest exit for him was by your right. As if sensing it too, Obsidian repositioned himself, so that his wing span could block the exit in its entirety.

Jason watched you as you took the glowing lasso in your hand.

His eyes followed your every move and they widened when you suddenly got up on your feet, your stance incredibly stable for someone who had to balance on a breathing and flying creature that was all scales and ridges, with no flat surface to stabilize themselves on.

“I’m sorry for doing it with you here, too,” you apologised with a focused look toward your target. Jason could only nod as he admired you, his own raging thoughts that were previously aimed at the dragon completely dissipated at the sight of you looking like an off-duty Amazon. The fierce look on your face was something you reserved only to the dragons that were acting out and he hoped to never be on the receiving end of it. It was completely juxtaposed to the very sweet and playful disposition you had shown thus far and he didn’t want the light-hearted banter between the two of you to cease just yet. He still didn’t know whether to trust you or not: this whole situation seemed too ridiculous to be true, yet here you were, swinging your lasso with incredible agility as you remained calm and focused.

If Jason had blinked, he would’ve missed it.

You threw the hoop over the dragon’s head and it swiftly slipped on his neck. Only then did Jason notice how small his head was when compared to the other dragons he had seen. The lack of spikes and red eyes made this one look so uncanny and terrifying that he would’ve been scared if he wasn’t still pissed off about his bike.

“Gotcha,” you put the rope in Obsidian’s mouth and sat back down, careful where to put your feet since you had a guest now.

“I’m sorry about Pyro,” you began to apologize to Jason, who could only look at you, “he’s very impulsive and may or may not have incredible anger issues, which isn’t rare for dragons to have but his are atrocious,”

Jason hummed, his mind elsewhere. That lasso looked too much like Diana’s for his own liking, but he decided not to question it whilst mid-air on your extremely protective dragon’s back.

The ride back was peaceful and you managed to coax some of your more mild-tempered overgrown puppies to follow you. They truly did resemble dogs, those ones, with their tails wagging side to side and curiously eyeing Jason.

So, from what he figured by analysing the situation and these creatures, he just had to have the worst luck in the entire universe to meet and irate the deranged and feral one.

He huffed a laugh that seemed to turn your gaze onto him.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothin’,” he shrugged, “just thinking about how, out of all the Tolkien-esque creatures you have, I had to piss off the clearly mentally unstable one”

You shushed him, a mix of shock and amusement in your face.

“Don’t talk about Pyro like that! He’s a troubled boy…he’s been through a lot and is still recovering,” you said as you looked towards him: he was now engaging in a one-sided game of tug war with Obi, who was clearly not having none of it by the way he puffed smoke in the younger dragon’s face as a warning.

You could only huff, some strands of hair on your face lifting up in the process.

It didn’t even feel like Jason was flying above Gotham’s skyline. With the easy conversation and the effortless way you were talking with him, he eased up as if the two of you were just taking a stroll in a park, like you had just done moments ago.

Before he knew it, you had reached the manor and hopped off Obsidian’s back.

There, all of the people residing in it were in the garden, watching the two of you approach them. Alfred’s eyes widened ever so subtly and Jason barked out a laugh as he took his helmet off and walking up to him.

“Hey, Alfred, I’m sorry but those guys there have destroyed half of your topiary,” he said as he rested a hand on the older man’s shoulder.

“I see,” said the butler with a slightly unamused look on his face, “I hope you successfully retrieved every ingredient for Goliath’s compress. Master Damian hasn’t stopped blaming himself for his skin rash since your departure,”

“I’ve got everything I need, Alfred!”

The two men turned around at the sound of your voice. You had just finished talking to Bruce, informing him that only two dragons were left to catch and that they would eventually follow the scent of the pack and come back without a fuss.

“Very well then, miss,” and with that you approached Damian, who was petting and consoling a rather shy and trembling Goliath, clearly agitated by whatever he was looking at behind your back.

You followed his gaze and laughed as you saw 14 dragons staring back with great curiosity and caution at the big ball of red fur. Now that he thought about it, Goliath sure was a strange dragon: he was significantly smaller than any of yours and was covered in bright red fur, whereas all you dragons sported muted colours and had scaled bodies, more often than not adorned with spikes.

You cooed at him, getting closer at the creature. Managing to crush every ingredient into a green mush, you began to delicately massage it over his worse spots.

Clearly spooked by the cold mixture, Goliath growled at you, snapping his wide mouth mere centimetres from your face and making you jump in surprise.

Before you could apologise and try to calm the dragon down, Obsidian lunged at him with a roar as he pinned the supposed threat to the ground, not letting him go. He puffed smoke in his face, never quite spewing flames out of his mouth. Jason was on alert right away as was everybody else. Even the other dragons grew tense as the watched the scene unravel: some seemed to growl at Goliath with the same protective instinct Obsidian had, whilst others grew shy and retreated behind some of the bigger ones.

“Get your dragon in check, Y/N,” Jason warned, his eyes never leaving the scene in front of him.

He understood why Obsidian lunged at Goliath like that, but he’d be damned before he saw Damian’s most beloved pet get torn to pieces right in front of him.

“What do you think I’m doing?” you quipped back, clearly as agitated as everyone else. Jason almost felt bad for snapping at you, but he truly didn’t know what your intentions were yet and he surely wasn’t going to take any chances.

Everybody watched you carefully as you approached the dragon, whispering something in his ear before Obsidian let go of Goliath’s neck and lowered his head at you. From where they were standing, it seemed like he was almost apologetic.

The more distance grew between Obsidian and Goliath as he retreated back to the rest of the pack, the more everybody, including Jason, seemed to visibly relax.

Here he found another reason not to trust that creature.

You returned your ministrations on Goliath who was still eyeing you warily but let you treat him nonetheless.

Clearing his throat, Damian thanked you before beginning to make his way back to the cave.

“Wait-“ you put and arm out, trying to stop them from walking away so suddenly, “I know that wasn’t the best first impression from Obi. I apologise, but he was just doing what he thought was right at the moment.”

Damian only nodded and Jason raised his brows in surprise at a lack of snarky response from the boy.

“I don’t know where you found him, but Goliath certainly isn’t like any types of dragons I had ever seen before…if you want to, he can come closer to my pack so that they can introduce themselves.”

Damian scanned your face for any signs of malice behind your proposition but after not being able to find any, he accepted. He tried to conceal his excitement at getting his beloved pet to make friends and know more about his kind, but the whole family was quick to catch onto that.

Bruce put a reassuring hand on Damian’s back and encouraged him to walk over them.

One by one, you introduced the dragons to everyone. The light coming from a garden lamp nearby made the creatures less menacing as they looked around curiously, taking in their new surroundings. Helios, the wind dragon and a bunch of other ones where actually pretty chill and very friendly, so much so that they let everybody pet them. Dick appreciated that greatly as he nearly flung himself at a smaller dragon, hugging it. You explained that was a wyvern and her name was Quartz.

“What’s up with their names?”

You looked at Stephanie as you pet Obsidian’s ears, “Oh, we just decided to stick with names that represented either their appearance or abilities,” you explained, “Obi’s completely black, Helios can manipulate and generate wind, Pyro can spew flames out of his mouth-”

Jason grumbled at that, crossing his arms on his chest.

He was the only one who hadn’t gotten closer to the flock. Even Bruce leaned curiously near one of your more relaxed and friendly creatures, not coming too close and definitely analysing its strengths and weaknesses.

Jason scanned his eyes on the scene, before his gaze locked onto yours.

You had a small smile on your lips, your expression unreadable. Were you sizing him up? Were you silently mocking him?

He didn’t like how worked up he got about what you could think of him. He never cared about what other people thought, so why on earth was he now inching closer and closer towards you and Obsidian?

The black dragon only side-eyed him before returning his attention back to Goliath, who was sniffing and ogling his scaled cheeks in interest. Besides him, Damian was talking you ear off about the ice cave he found him in while on a mission.

You nodded with a smile on your face.

“They seem to love them”

You chuckled, “They love the attention and chin scratches, that’s what they love,”

In the distance, you could hear some sirens wailing through the city’s streets.

“Isn’t this whole dragon problem going to mess up your work?”

Jason shrugged, “Not really. All the bad guys that we could get are already in GCPD’s station. If not, they helped scare everyone off, making them barricade in their homes”

Obsidian huffed and you laughed.

“He really doesn’t like me, does he?”

You shook your head in agreement with a laugh.

“He’s just wary of all men. He doesn’t have anything against you, really,” you explained reassuring him, but the way the black dragon was almost mocking him with his challenging eyes told him otherwise.

Jason kept his mouth shut for your sake.

The temperature had dropped significantly and the chilly night seemed to have seeped into everybody’s bones. When you spoke, a cloud of breath vapor came out of your parted lips.

As if one cue, Alfred ushered everybody inside, ignoring their complaints and their claims to be perfectly fine through clattering teeth.

“What about them?”

Bruce glanced back at you and Jason. The dragons were huddled up by your side and were showing signs of sleepiness by drooping their heads.

“We can’t let them out here, B,” interfered Jason, looking at his father, “who knows what sort of crazy stories will circle out tomorrow if they see the very creatures that reigned terror in Gotham the night prior, all cozied up in Wayne manor?”

Bruce gave him a pointed look before composing himself, “they will stay at the batcave with Goliath. I’ve already initiated the dragon protocol when you were gone.”

After tucking your dragons to bed (and after reassuring Obsidian that just one night of not sleeping by your side won’t actively kill him), Alfred showed you the suite guest room before leaving you to yourself. The others had already bid their goodnights and you also met two more members of the vigilante ‘family’, if you could call it that. Oracle and Signal were friendly and showed interest in your occupation, making you promise to introduce them to the flock tomorrow morning.

But now, tossing and turning in your bed after a nice hot shower, sleep didn’t seem like an option for you.

You huffed, clearly frustrated by the weird feeling of emptiness and anxiety that sat heavy in your chest, before completely giving up on getting a nice night of sleep and getting up.

Only clad by a pair of long pyjamas kindly given to you by Alfred, you silently made your way out of your room and into the hallway. The goal was to reach the kitchen to get a glass of water, but as you passed the living room, something outside the large patio windows caught your attention.

It was the broad figure of someone sitting on one of the benches outside. You could barely make out their features due to the lack of lighting, but the familiar green glow you had spotted earlier on was a dead giveaway.

“Can’t sleep?” you ask Hood once you made your way outside and stopped by his right.

He only hummed in response, not glancing up from the ground. He was wearing dark grey sweatpants and a black hoodie with the hood up. His hands were inside the hoodie’s pockets and he sat slightly crouched, like he wanted to make himself smaller.

You tilted your head in curiosity at that.

“Can I sit here? I can’t catch a single ounce of sleep, too,”

He hummed once more, not bothering again to give you a proper answer. You sat down next to him, keeping your distance as you leaned back and gazed up at the sky. You noticed how warm and slightly stuffy it actually was in your room now that you were out here and a light breeze ran past you, raising goosebumps on your cheeks.

You stayed in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before Hood decided to speak up.

“Can I ask you something?”

You turned to him, unable to read his expression and nodded.

“Where did you get that lasso?”

It took you a moment to unfog your mind before you realized what he was referring to. Diana’s lasso.

You shrugged, “It was a gift from a very dear friend of mine,” you answered casually, looking at the man next to you, “Why do you ask?”

He didn’t reply immediately, instead he settled for looking at you as if trying to determine whether you were telling the truth or not, his gaze boring right to your side. He decided on the former and sighed, “I’ve seen that lasso before. Everybody here knows that it belongs to one person and one person only-”

“-Diana Prince?”

You saw the way his eyes widened like saucers and chuckled to yourself, “What? You know her, too?”

He took off his hood, an incredulous look on his face, “Everybody knows her! She’s Wonder Woman, for god’s sake, who doesn’t?”

You shrugged again, feigning ignorance on the matter, “All I know is that one day I happened to help a young Amazon out with her jet and taught her how to ride on Obsidian and before she left, she gifted me her lasso,” you explained with a small smile on your face, “she said it would be the only thing that could possibly be able to keep an animal as cunning as a dragon at bay, and wouldn’t you like to know, it’s true!”

The look on Hood’s face was causing you to let another laugh out but you contained yourself. There were clearly gears turning in his head and you patiently waited for the next question you knew was to follow.

The man ran a hand across his face, now fully alert and frustrated with this new piece of information he was provided with.

“But- How did she- …You know?”

“Beats me,” you say sincerely, shaking your head in your own disbelief, “she said she was on a mission with her team someplace near their headquarter that apparently is in space? I was so confused but decided not to prod her on that. She was distressed but told me a portal opened, just like the one I came here in,” you rubbed your neck as you tried to remember what Diana had told you many years ago.

Your eyes lit up as a memory resurfaced. Hood straightened up immediately.

“She said some doctor or professor was trying to prove the string theory was real and went mad? I don’t remember the name, but she said it was someone her team had been dealing with on a regular basis…what was his name,” you looked up to the sky with a pout, as if hoping the stars would give you the piece of information you were missing.

“Was it Mr. Freeze?” Hood began asking, nearly at the edge of the bench with how much he got worked up in such a small window of time, “Or maybe doctor Death? – he was probably in Arkham when the first incident happened though – What about Professor Milo-”

You jumped as you clasped your hands in recognition, “Yes, that one! Milo!”

Hood looked relieved but then his face fell again, “Milo’s been dead for the past three years,” he huffed out, crossing his arms on his chest and leaning back.

“Oh…maybe someone who would continue his legacy or that had the same manic tendencies? Maybe someone who could dwell in sorcery of some kind?”

He seemed to contemplate your words with a slight nod, “I’ll look into it tomorrow after I tell B and the rest”

You muttered an ok and silence fell again between you once more.

“So, you’re not planning on attacking us with your flock of dragons?”

You laughed right at his face as you leaned back, holding your stomach, “You sure are a funny guy, Hood,” you said with a smile, “if those really were my intentions, the city would have been reduced to ashes hours ago.”

He nodded once, “Good, ok…”

“Come on, you can ask me whatever question has been bugging you from the moment I first stepped foot in this place,” you encouraged him, tilting your head to the side.

He seemed to hesitate before he turned to you with a sheepish smile, “It’s just that- you know…dragons? Really? They seem like they shouldn’t even exist with the way they look! – no offence to them or you for that matter, but-”

“What about Goliath?”

“Goliath’s different. He’s way smaller, for starters, but he was also found by Damian during one of his missions, when he came across a tomb of some ancient kings…he’s family, and he really acts like an overgrown puppy,”

You hummed in agreement, “And you think my babies are too feral and only capable of destroying everything they touch?”

“…Yes?”

“If you just hate Obsidian and Pyro you can say so, you know. I won’t get offended; I know they’re a handful.”

The man puffed out his cheeks as he looked away, “I’m still mad about my bike, that’s all…and your dragon is a jerk-”

You gasped at that.

“No, he’s not! Is he very territorial and does he hate all men that come too close to him? Yes, but look at you! You managed to get on his back,” you exaggerated stupor with your hands, “No man’s ever managed to do that before, just so you know,” you smiled playfully as you nudged him with your shoulder, “if anything, I think you can’t stand each other because you two have the same temperament.”

“I am nothing like that moron of a dragon-”

“Stop calling Obsidian names!”

“I’m not calling him anything. I simply deal in facts.”

You snorted at that. The chilly breeze that covered your body in goosebumps was seemingly forgotten as you shook your head in disbelief at his word.

Laugher was shared and the tension on Hood’s shoulders seemed to subdue the more you spent talking out there in the cold.

Another chill ran through you that you couldn’t ignore and you quickly got up, “I’m freezing my ass off here. I’m sorry, Hood, but I must go back before I die of hypothermia-”

“Jason.”

You stilled as if you got struck by lightning. With your mouth still open, you managed to mutter out a Sorry what? To the amused man sitting in front of you.

“My name. It’s Jason. You can drop ‘Hood’…we were keeping our names private in case you had heard of us from somewhere,”

“Oh, yeah. Right, Jason- Uhm, I’m Y/N”

“I know that, you told me back at the botanic garden,”

“Ah, yes,”

You didn’t know why, but knowing Jason’s name sent you into short circuit for a minute. You didn’t expect him to do such a thing, yet again you mulled over how many things didn’t go as expected in just a single night, so you silently accepted it.

“You want to join me on the couch? We can drink some tea and watch something on the tv to pass time?”

His only response was a nod with a smile and you both stepped back inside the manor, now knowing something more about each other.

[anonymousfoz]

this is probably my last reblog of this.

Its just amazing to see how far of a writer I become, after starting writing as a hobby only in 2022. There is clearly times where I regressed in writing and that's probably due to lack of reading to become a better writer.

Looking back at writing that I didn't even post, the concepts I had were great and amazing and yet I could tell that I was struggling with how I was going to portray that story.

Swapping POVs mid story, dialogue that doesn't feel natural, character's having inconsistent personalities.

Looking back allows me to also see what I did well. I was great coming up with concepts. Having unfinished works allows me to remember what I had planned next even if I didn't write it down. And the stuff I did write down was creative.

I had a Yin and Yang concept, a immortal love story with a tragic ending. The entirely of Ty and Tumblr was a creative idea. The part where Xeon (X) comes in and Ty (the character) is struggling with sanity issues was amazing. I found myself in a mystery trying to figure out what was wrong with the cat because it kept coming up that Ty was scared of the cat and keeping it at a distance. There was a part where Reddit appears and Tumblr has to seek their help. That's interesting, and yet never finished.

Definitely after my concussion in Octobee 2023, my adhd has gotten worse so I can see my Adhd start to effect how I write stories. I went from writing series with a plan to writing smaller scenes or trying to tell a smaller story in a larger world.

The writing I published yesterday was only 1 version out of 4. The other two and more recent versions are gone due to my hand writing them. It's not my best writing; it's a very rough draft. Still doesn't mean I didn't enjoy reading back and seeing what I did great and what I could had done better.

While I'm unsure if I will ever write any of the fictional stories I started, I still care for all the stories I crafted and how much passion I had put into them.

They aren't my magnus opus and that's fine. I wasn't expected to be the next Mary Shelly or some big author.

Writing isn't about being the next big thing, to have your story be read by everyone all the time. Writing is for yourself and for the passion you have for it.

I'm going to stop here before I write an essay about it.

it's weird coming back

Its like looking at a past life.

I'm the same person but definitely more happier. The shift from high school me to my current self in college is a huge jump and looking back through my tumblr show cases that.

I do come back to look, see what I been tagged in and to chat.

But it's odd seeing who I was a year ago. Seeing things in my drafts that never got posted and things scheduled to come.

I was going to delete my tumblr some time ago but I don't think I am due to well, it's part of my identity, the thing that helped me figure out some of my interests and help me reflect on myself.

Besides having a little corner of the internet is nice.

[joshuamj]

In Time and Stars

[pepperpixel]

-DECEPTICON COMMUNICATIONS AND INTELLIGENCE OFFICER, SOUNDWAVE-

OMGGGGG IM ACTUALLY POSTING A PIECE OF ART THAT I DREW, it’s a November miracle…. I’m drawing. And I finished something. I’m always drawing honestly it’s the finishing that’s rlly surprising lol. But anyway! Yeah! Everybody drawing cool humanformers stuff on twitter cuz of the movie got me inspired to draw some of my human soundwave… looking extra sneaky and spy like…. Lurking in the shadows w his cat… wanted to practice big shapes and bold colors… and I like it! I think it turned out good!

[momomallowart]

Took his pants away bc studio Bones is too cowardly to do it themselves ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ🫶💗

[puppyeared]

its so hard to watch time pass when things like careers and assignments exist. what do you mean im supposed to take that seriously

[dynamitekansai]

THE USOS REUNITE WWE SMACKDOWN (OCTOBER 25, 2024)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Understandably So no one mentions charles when talking about the Logan movie and again Understandably So This Aint Bout Him however i do confess that as someone who had never seen Logan until like. a month ago when i was binging all the movies and without knowing a single thing about it aside from laura i cant lie i was in fact jumpscared by him being there. especially for at least like 3/4s of the movie

[starry-bi-sky]

what piercings does Danny have in your CFAU?

Danny’s got double lobe piercings on both ears, and then helixes, and an orbital on one side! Then he’s got an eyebrow piercing on the right side of his face. I don’t have any particular reason for why he’s got piercings as an adult, I just thought it’d be a fun way to indicate a physical change from when he was 14 and last saw the Waynes, to the next time they see him. Although with this version of Danny (rather than my original, unserious beta version of CFAU), it probably would follow that he'd potentially get piercings when he was older. (So not a total shock)