#calliope quick

[skittle-is-little]

the two images look so similar that i had to use the original memes to separate them

its calliopes face istg shes so (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

old version of the live kill thing i made AAAAGES ago ↓

I NEEDED TO DO THEM JUSTICE SO I MADE THIS POST OKAYYYY??!?!?

EWWWWWW ↑↑↑ BLUH

[fia-bonkginya]

(id in alt)

yes i'm already working on a duck team fanfic. yes it's a post episode 29 cuddling fic.

[flowingdifferent]

Me in the first half of kira killer live: 😄🥰

Me in the second half: 😐

[triptychgardener]

EARLY JUNE CHAPTER 47: EVERYTHING IN THE NOTHING

[officialmspa]

A Quick One Before the Eternal Snake Devours Paradox Space

[vic-el-puerco]

Maryam-Lalonde-Ampora family issues...

Eridan tried to warn Eridaniel about magic...

He didn't listen.

Lickily for both; Kanaya saw that coming, and was prepared.

[exc-lsior]

callie clasping the necklace around calder to save him from the heat is really hitting me right in the heart 🥺

[nightmarecountry]

calliope cups dream's cheeks very gently, thumb brushing over his jaw. "you made it again? it seems... the same. was that your intention?"

In many ways, it hurts to have her this close again. So much of their shared history--the very thing that defines it, perhaps--is hurt; loss; grief insurmountable. Morpheus leans into her touch without fully knowing (or perhaps not allowing himself to know) why he does it. She has touched him before now, since the reunion, but every time... Every time feels like the first time. Every whisper of skin against his is a wildfire.

"It seems the same, yes, and that was my intention. But..." He flicks his gaze towards the nightmare in question: it rests on a rocky outcrop by the nightmare seas, dressed in plain white, its attention on the churning, foaming surface of the choppy waters below. It knows they are there. It is avoiding their gazes. Dream makes a soft, humming sigh through his nose, and redirects his attention back to Calliope. "But the first was made long ago. That much was reflected in its foolishness--in its betrayal. This one, I hope, will be different."

As I am different, he does not say. Cannot. There are some things he is still coming to terms with. The idea that he is changed, has been changed, by forces beyond his control... and the idea that there is part of him that can--must--change of its own will. They are equally frightening ideas. He is still reckoning with them.

"Thus far, he has served me well." The Dreamlord's face remains unsmiling, but there is the faintest suggestion of humour in his voice as he takes Calliope's hand in his own and regards her with bright, watchful eyes. "As I recall, you did not wholly approve of the first one, either... and I daresay the feeling was mutual, though the why eludes me."

Up on the rocks, the Corinthian reaches for its glasses, shielding its eyes from view.

[toxictac]

well i may or may not have draw and old drawing in digital and it may or may not been a pain to do -_-

in anycase it from a sortha "reverse au" type of deal of mori calliope, so yeah here is the original:

and here is the digitilised one:

ok, a bit of explaning about made up lore, my main attempt while i was drawing this was using the orginal color pallete in a way to make a new desing, i also tried to make the opposite of each menber

for this case when i was trying to get something opposite of "a god of dead", of course my first thought was a god of life, but i couldnt get quite something satifactorie out of it so insted i looked around of gods of healing or with the abilitie to heal, and i stumble into apolo

it is a bit of a weird choise, but i think it complemented both the color pallate and the music theme of callie, while still having healing related stuff

as for the story, i imagine ,as the opposite of the hardworking calli, this callie would be pretty lazy spending most of their time with dionysus, until she is lay off into the world to learn to work for herself stumbeling up on, or more like getting captured, an undercover agency tasked with capturing and securing anomalies, posing as an idol company their name being lohovile

so yeah, if you read this far thanks for lisening to my rambelings lol next time i will try to do an actual background

[crystallizedtwilight]

🎃 LSBC Questions: Part 18! 🎃

Lock, Shock, Barrel, and Calliope questions that call for quick answers will be under the cut in batches of 10-15 🧡

Previous bulk questions batch

Maybe Shock will tell her one day. It's not top of mind so Shock hasn't considered it being something to share.

Some sources say Lock is the leader. Others, like Jorgen Klubien and Owen Klatte (storyboard / animators on tnbc) say that Shock is the leader. I personally think Lock and Shock each fully believe that they are the leader and bicker about it: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

I'm not very skilled at background art, but I like to imagine that the other worlds have their own whimsical over-the-top aesthetics just like Halloween Town and Christmas Town do.

Yep! Ghouls are born supernatural creatures. Zombies used to be human. Ghouls dine on corpses, have 3-toed-feet, and have normal flesh/living bodies. Zombies can bite the living, have 5-toed-feet, and their bodies are decayed flesh/reanimated. If you're wondering if a ghoul would eat a zombie, they would not—if it moves it's not food!

Just a trio thing!

Many people ask if the epilogue (4 or 5 skeleton kids) will be part of this AU but I've made the decision that it will not. This AU takes place when Jack and Sally are newly married and want to enjoy each other's company for a while before kids are a focus.

Yep!

Just like Shock yearns for a black cat familiar, so too does Calliope dream of having a dog companion one day.

They've been hard banned from 4th of July Town. No one is happy to see them there for obvious reasons (but that doesn't stop them from going and they just run if they get caught!)

They've been banned from Christmas Town on principal, but they keep getting in and Sandy is just like "(long sigh) Just don't break anything this time." Mrs. Claus gives them gifts she thinks they'll hate to discourage them from returning but the trio just end up genuinely liking them. The elves fear for re-work any time they show up.

Valentines Town doesn't appreciate its romantic moments being ruined with party snaps.

They've canonically caused messes in Thanksgiving Town and Easter Town so they're not welcome there either. The Easter Bunny still shivers at the thought of them due to the mix up!

And St. Patricks Day town was not their vibe.

Due to their mischievous nature they definitely haven't made any "friends" in the other hinterlands worlds yet. However, the trio find it most fun to travel to and interact with the human world via the tomb portals. Whether it's scaring folks on Halloween, sneakily enjoying festivals, or buying junk food at a gas station at 3 AM: [1] [2] [3] [4]

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

upon his grace 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, bullying, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are called to court after the end of the civil war, but find yourself facing many challenges, expected and not. (fantasy medieval au)

Characters: king!Steve Rogers

Note: friday!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You are summoned to the queen’s chambers shortly after your arrival. You come together with the other young ladies from courtyard in the corridor just before a set of painted doors. Within, Queen Margaret keeps court with her ladies, of whom you are to be one of. The thought alone has you devilishly unnerved. 

The guards in their livery greet you with dull eyes. The groom announces your purpose and receives little in return aside from the one soldier’s lazy reach to tap upon the door. He lifts the lever and eases a space between the wood. 

“Your highness, you’ve some ladies requesting an audience,” he drones through. 

There is some movement from within. A lady servant appears in her white cap and beckons you inward. You are further intimidated by the formality of it all. Marcia and Marigold rush ahead to be first and the three earls’ daughters from the White Plans take up their train. You glance over at Calliope and trail after her. 

The doors shut at your back and the lady maid retreats, her soles scuffing amid the murmur around you. You look around the skirts of the other debuts and see women in recline, others perched upon cushions and stools, all at leisure with needle, book, or frame. There is another at the window, sat between two ladies on the bench, the late afternoon breeze stirring the long waves that hang around her face, the rest of her chestnut hair twisted up behind her hood.  

The lady maid stands at the wall in deference, “your highness.” 

The brunette raises her chin and her eyes narrow at the lot of you. You can barely see much past the shoulders of the twins and the other ladies clustered closely in shared apprehension. Still, the twins stand tall and the other ladies hardly seem as wrought as you in the ceremony of it all. 

“The twins of...Mawsley, is it?” The queen declares, “yes, your father proved himself a valuable asset, didn’t he?” 

“Your highness,” the twins recite in unison and bow, “Marcia,” the first introduces herself, “Marigold, the second adds. 

“How keen,” the queen chimes, “you look as the same person. How amusing.” 

“Thank you, your highness,” the sisters chirp. 

“And those gowns, wonderful. I may have to ask after your tailor,” Queen Margaret preens, “and where is the Countess’ daughter? I recall I met you once when you were still a child.” 

Calliope steps dutifully, “my mother sends her regards.” 

“Oh, yes, that poor widow,” the queen bemoans, “she is ever steadfast despite her plight.” She takes pause as you sway to see her, “and the rest of you, forgive me, these last days have been a whirlwind and I’ve heard an endless slew of names one after another. 

“Lady Selene,” the very lady proclaims. 

“Lady Ameri,” she bows in quick succession. 

“Lady Dorida,” the last shows her courtesy in an elegant bend. 

As you come forward, the twins push their arms together as if to block you out with their sleeves. You sidle side to side and sweep around their skirts with an ungraceful stumble, “your highness,” you greet as if you have something stuck in your throat. You swallow before you can muster your own name and title. 

“Woodsdam,” the queen tilts her head and looks from the lady at her left shoulder to the one on her right, “I’ve never heard of it.” 

“Neither have I,” the leftmost agrees. 

“Farmland,” the right says. 

“Yes, your highness, my father is a farmer, but an earl as well,” you supply. 

“Mm,” the queen looks down her nose as her lips thin, “it appears the Woodsdam style is much... defined. I don’t think I’ve seen that style gown since my grandmother was still on earth.” 

You look down at your modest cotton. The square cut of your bodice is much different than the other ladies’ rounded collars. Your mother crafted the dress from pieces and the seams are tidy, yet it does lack a similar flair to the others around the chamber. You raise your eyes and keep your composure as best you can. 

“Many thanks, your highness.” 

The queen scoffs, “quaint, indeed.” She sits straighter though her posture is already unyieldingly staunch, “ladies, please acquaint yourself. And be certain to pay heed to these ladies who know well the ways of court. For all that’s changed in these past years, we will retain as ever our elegance and our etiquette.” 

You peer around, uncertain what comes next. A lady stands and calls to Calliope, “Lady, it is me, Gwendolyn, of the Spades. Near Clovers, you will know it?” 

Calliope accepts the initiation and there is a swift storm of voices swirling around the lot of you. You flutter hopefully that someone might think of Woodsdam or might’ve been to the waterfall near Aquil, not far from your father’s hold. The twins confer still with the queen and her ladies, trilling and giggling, as Serena and Dorida marvel over another ladies’ sewing frame, and Ameri is overly familiar with a lady swollen with child. 

You drift away from the centre of the chamber, trying not to draw unwarranted attention. It would do little for any to note your insignificance. You’ve all to soon faded into obscurity. No one cares for a farmer’s daughter. 

“Eh, do you read?” The question startles you and has you spinning to face its speaker. She looks as she sounds; squawkish. Birdlike. Her blond waves are woven with strands of silver and her hooked nose is not unbecoming. 

“Yes, lady, I do,” you answer, uncertain if she is genuine or she means it as jab. 

“Have you read Corswin? He wrote a fair tale about a shepherdess.” 

“I’ve not heard of him,” you recover your confidence at her interest. It is clear she humours you, that she is speaking to only keep you from floundering. 

“I must lend you a book or two,” she insists, “come sit with me. These old hens grow tiresome.” 

“Many thanks, my lady,” you accept and claim the stool next to her, shifting it closer. 

“Sarah,” she gives her name, “Woodsdam. I’ve never been. I hate the swamps.” 

“Oh,” you nod, “yes, it isn’t very swampy. Only in the rainy seasons but we get the sun.” 

“Mm, still, I’ve been down Ashton and I hated the place. My horses caught some sickness there,” she gripes, “perhaps though, your home is more pleasant. A woman old as me, though, I don’t venture far as it is.” She tuts and taps her oval nails on the book in her lap, “if my son wasn’t so foolish as to take up his sword, I’d still be in my library, hidden away from these chits.” 

You clasp your hands together and smile. She’s amicable and you wouldn’t want to bother too much. She flutters the pages of her book and huffs. You look around, sensing some intrigue from the other ladies though they do their best not to let their flitting eyes be caught. 

“All these birds know how to do is cloister themselves up like nuns,” she bemoans, “I’d as soon be out in the sunlight. If I were home, I’d be in my courtyard with a better book than this,” she wags the volume in agitation, “and you, lady? What is it you do on the farmstead? Chase hens?” 

“We have geese,” you say, “though they aren’t truly kept. They sort’ve linger around. And some cattle.” 

“It does sound rather bucolic, this must be all so drab to you, castle walls and dusty tapestries.” 

“Oh, it’s all so wonderful,” you expound. 

“It is?” She drawls tritely, “aren’t these ladies of ours so polite? The way they whisper about our hems and our titles. Don’t let yourself be fooled, though I suppose that should be as good a warning against myself. Ladies of the court are like crows; the like shiny things and the hold grudges, and sometimes, they needn’t even a reason to peck your eyes out.” 

You close your lips and swallow. Her tidings only underline the unwelcome forged in the queen’s introduction. All you might forgive is at least she seems genuine in her girding. You look down at your skirts and run your fingers down a crease. 

“The dress is not so hideous,” she assures gently, “some of the ladies do forget we did just fight a war. There are those without silks and without food in their bellies. They should weigh their fortune that they are still alive and well.” 

Your eyes meet and she looks a little less stony. She turns her head to the window and her gaze drifts into the distance. You follow them with a sense of solemnity. Again, you snare a few glances from the others. Many men died, women and children too. It wouldn’t do to care so much for what people think of your wardrobe. 

👑

Your first day at the castle ends in a fine supper of freshly baked bread, beef with gravy, and seasoned scallions, onions, and sweet herbs. It is not so hearty as your mother’s stew which you share as often with the servants nor so delicious. It’s a different sort of taste but not unpleasant. 

You retire at the queen’s behest. She declares she must see to her husband and several of the other ladies claim the same of their own. You rise and wait courteously to tail after other ladies, not wanting to get underfoot as you so often did on the farm. As you stand aside, Lady Sarah swats you with her book. 

Skirts swish against the rows of chairs and benches that line the long table. The dining chamber is set with the portrait of peregrine and similarly hawkish depictions woven into tapestry and tablecloth alike. Despite the uniform decor, the furniture is mismatched and the hews of wood and metal alternate with each piece. 

“Don’t fear the stampede, little calf, run with it,” she chides, “ah, I’ve decades upon these sows and they plod like heifers.” 

He uncouth words draw your surprise. She laughs at the look you send her and waves you off with the hardcover. She shoulders past you without pause. 

“One day you will see, it is better to speak the truth than let it shred up your soul,” she tosses over her shoulder. “Ah, naivete, how entertaining you are.” 

Her voice carries and you notice how the other women shy away from her. There’s a glint of deference to the tilt in their chins as they part for her like a like drawn in the sand with a stick. You wonder how she can be so bold and why the other might tolerate it. As Queen Margaret girded, you are to maintain propriety. Sarah seems to carry the same manners as any farmhand you’d known. 

You hurry to meet Calliope near the door as she departs. She seems the tamest of the lot thus far. Sharp-witted but not needlessly cruel. She turns her head slightly in acknowledgement of your presence. 

“There you are,” she mutters. 

“Did you enjoy the afternoon?” You ask brightly. 

“Enjoy? I tempered it,” she retorts, “I’ve the measure of most ladies.” 

“The measure? They were all quite friendly.” 

“You are too friendly,” she admonishes, “this is court, you cannot be so simple. Each lady is attached to a lord, thus they work upon his purposes. Her ears are always listening, eyes always seeing.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You represent your father and though mine may be in the ground, I carry his mantle all the same. We are our houses, not ourselves here,” she keeps her voice low and slows markedly to keep away from the others, “you should count yourself fortunate for my wise counsel, lady, for no other would give it.” 

You chew on her words, tasting their bitterness, “so why do you, Lady Calliope?” 

“For I despise those twins and I know they aren’t so keen on you,” she sighs, “and I saw you as any other did with the dowager.” 

“The dowager?” You echo. 

“The king’s mother, Lady Sarah,” she sends you a sharp look, “don’t tell me you didn’t realise?” 

“Oh? No? She spoke of books and her gardens, she didn’t mention...” you peter off and snap your mouth shut. But she had, she did say her son ran off to war. “Oh!” 

“Oh! Indeed,” Calliope mocks and shakes her head. “Look, I’ve not the patience for these women, but you’re not so bad. You don’t speak without meaning. Shall we be companions?” 

“Pardon?” You let your surprise bleed through. 

“I need at least one person I might stomach, how about you? I don’t think the others are so eager to be friends. Marcia did say how you look like a peasant.” 

“She did?” You frown. 

“Hm, you need me,” she insists, “you can’t let yourself be so whimsical. Never mind what they say or think. What do they care so much for anyhow? They are a duke’s daughters, they will do well enough.” 

You carry on next to her. You feel as if you’re being pulled in all different directions though all tell you just the same. Be wary 

[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Chapter 7

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader)Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 5017 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.

Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together. 

But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.

Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.

However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.

Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazonians' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?

~~~

T-minus 1 day until Echidna's War.

'All right, everyone!' Y/N called out to the group, forcing them to stop sparring in their pairs and look at her. 'That's enough for today. Go, shower and get ready for our feast. You deserve to enjoy this night before tomorrow.'

'Yes, Princess!' the warriors said in unison, then quickly dispersed, leaving the training grounds to head back into the city to prepare for tomorrow.

'You should get ready too, Princess,' Calliope said, looking after her sisters-in-arms chatting and walking down the stairs to their homes. Y/N's heart pulled at the thought that she'd never see such happy smiles again after tonight.

'In a moment, Calliope,' Y/N answered, looking around the remaining groups that were finishing up their drills. Her gaze fell on one particular acrobat who was teaching the group blocking techniques and some acrobatic manoeuvres to avoid an opponent. All the while doing so, Dick was smiling, encouraging the women to keep trying.

'He's not too bad,' Calliope said with amusement. 'For a mortal man, that is.'

Y/N turned to Calliope only to see a knowing smile on her friend's face. Only then did Y/N realise she was smiling stupidly wide, and made quick work to get rid of it. 'I guess so. But he's stupidly naive and impulsive. He'll get himself killed because of it.'

'Maybe,' Calliope said thoughtfully as she looked back at Dick for a moment before facing Y/N again. 'But isn't that how a true warrior should die? In battle fighting for what's right?'

Y/N didn't like the thought of Dick being clawed open or beheaded by monsters, so she quickly said, 'It's not his battle to fight in, though. He shouldn't be here.'

'But he is, Y/N,' Calliope insisted, coming to stand in front of Y/N so she had no choice but to make eye contact. 'And that's what makes him even braver. He's here helping us save our home; a home he had never seen until a few days ago; a home that has no connection to him whatsoever but he is here trying to save it.'

Before Y/N could protest, Calliope gripped Y/N's hands in a manner that was desperate and insistent. 'You should tell him. Before it's too late.'

Y/N furrowed her brows in confusion. 'What are you-'

'Oh, don't play dumb with me,' Calliope interrupted. 'I see how you look at him. You're worried about him. Which means you care, despite everything you say to convince us otherwise.'

Y/N went to deny it but couldn't find the words to do so. Her heart was being torn in so many different directions any time she thought about Dick, she didn't know what exactly she felt for him. It was hard to put into words what he meant to her, the good and the bad.

When she remained silent, Calliope patted Y/N's hands gently then dropped them as she too walked away, leaving Y/N standing frozen in a battle with her head and her heart.

Y/N could've been standing there for one minute or an hour for all she knew, until someone waved their hand in front of her face and broke her from her trance.

'Y/N,' Dick said, his brows furrowed in concern. 'You okay?'

Y/N took a deep breath in as she came back to the moment. 'Yes. Yes, I'm fine. Just...'

'Worried?' Dick offered, and Y/N was grateful for the change in subject. 'Well, I wouldn't be if I were you. These women are stronger than some of the heroes back home.'

Y/N raised a playful eyebrow. 'Only some?'

Dick chuckled. 'Okay, all of them.'

The two shared a quiet laugh, and it brought Y/N a sense of normalcy and nostalgia that warmed her heart.

She looked around as the remaining warriors finished their trainings and made to leave for their homes. Y/N could almost name each and every one of them, and there was the possibility that after tomorrow she would never see them again.

'Echidna is the one who should be worried,' Y/N said, her voice slightly shaky with anger and determination. She knew that if death were to come tomorrow, Y/N wouldn't be able to save them all. But she'd be damned if she didn't try to.

A warm calloused hand tentatively enclosed her fist, and the touch was enough to cease Y/N's shakes. 'I agree,' Dick said, two simple words seemingly echoing around the quiet training ground. His smile was smooth but genuine and Y/N could've believed they were eighteen again and back on the mainland and with the team. Back when his smile eased all her problems, back when Wally and all their lost friends weren't gone. Back when it was just them, and everything in Y/N's world made sense.

But now Y/N felt like she was on another planet, and they were about to go to war with the Mother of Monsters and nothing made sense anymore.

Y/N slowly pulled her had away from Dick's and cleared her throat as she stared straight ahead. 'We should probably get ready for the feast. Could be the last one we have in a while.' Or ever, she wanted to add, but Dick was an optimist and would ridicule her for thinking such thoughts and she really didn't want to keep talking with him.

'That's right,' Dick said, eyes brightening up at the thought of food. 'I bet you guys put on the best meals, as well.'

Y/N just rolled her eyes as they made their way across the training grounds to the stairs that would lead them back into town. 'A true boy. Only ever thinking about food.'

'A true girl. Turning every compliment into an insult.'

Y/N shoved him and he shoved her back and the two couldn't hold back radiant smiles. It astounded Y/N how easily they fell back into old habits. How familiar and safe Dick was.

'You should tell him. Before it's too late.'

Tell him what exactly? Y/N could hardly discern what mixture of emotions was running through her, let alone wheedle down to a specific point what her true feelings were for Dick. She'd been upset for so long, then angry at him. But the past three days he'd shown himself to be the Dick she'd always known and come to love. Kind, brave, funny, strong, compassionate.

It all lead her to a very confusing fork in the metaphorical road of her heart.

Even so, there was something she felt for him...

Just as Dick took a step down the stairs, Y/N found herself reaching out to him this time, bringing him to a stop with her soft grip on his shoulder. 'Wait.'

Dick looked over his shoulder immediately, his piercing blue eyes glued onto her with curiosity and wonder. 'Yeah?' he asked.

Y/N took in a deep breath, calming her racing heart as she said, 'I'm sorry.' When Dick only frowned with confusion, she elaborated. 'I'm sorry for doubting you. For being... well, I haven't been the most welcoming of people have I?'

Dick didn't say a word, but he turned fully around to face her, his face as serious as it was the other night on another staircase. Y/N's hand dropped to her side, and she found she could not look away from Dick's eyes as the words started falling out.

'I guess... I just didn't think you cared about us anymore,' she said. 'About the team, about me. And it made me so angry, but then you came to the one place I thought I could finally find peace again and I just couldn't accept that you were here for me. But I see now I was wrong.'

'No, I was the one who was wrong,' Dick said with a shake of his head. 'You had every right to be angry with me, in fact you still do. You were right, I was ignorant and only thought of my pain in those years I was away. I didn't think how coming here would affect you after everything I've done.'

Dick returned to the landing, now towering over Y/N, and took her hands in his and said in a gentle voice, 'I know I am far from forgiven, but I promise you, I will spend whatever time I have left on this earth trying to make it up to you.'

Y/N could hardly breathe with the way Dick was looking at her. It was almost dream-like, and suddenly all of her teenage emotions came rushing back into her bloodstream. The adoration, the awe, the love - it had remained all this time, she'd just repressed it in her time of pain and loss.

And it could've just been her, but something flickered briefly across Dick's face - the slightest arch of his brows, the minuscule twitch of his mouth. An emotion Y/N had no time to discern before Dick was the one stepping back and resuming his journey down the stairs, a careless smile on his face like the moment never happened.

'The showers await us, Princess,' he jested as he waved her after him. 'Wouldn't want to be late for the feast!'

Y/N stared after him for a moment, trying to process what just happened. He was serious, he would do anything to make it all up to her. And that look on his face...

Y/N shook herself out of her imagination. Probably just seeing things, she told herself as she followed Dick down the stairs. She wouldn't get her hopes up again.

Not for Dick Grayson of all people.

~~~

When Dick Grayson arrived back at his room, he drew himself a bath and allowed himself to relax if only for a few minutes. The first night in his room he'd been affronted to find a group of women ready to bathe him like a child. He'd argued with Y/N about them, her saying it was their tradition and all. Eventually she caved and dismissed the women from his room. He laughed at the memory, thinking beneath his own anger that she looked cute riled up.

There it was again - the thoughts he had never thought before.

He couldn't deny Y/N had grown into a beautiful young woman, one who stood by her values and always fought for the right thing. She'd stuck by the team when he couldn't, and for that he would always admire her.

But then again he had always admired her. That's part of the reason she was his best friend. She was this strong and loving individual that had always stuck by him and the others. She had the most infectious smile, and her laughter was like music-

Dick bolted upright in the bath, his heart racing at a million miles per hour as an alarming thought entered his mind. Do I like Y/N?

Well, it wasn't a matter of like. Of course he liked her, she was his best friend after all. But they'd never... she'd never implied...

He recalled when they were younger how many people - including their parents - said that he and Y/N would end up together. They were each other's better half, and honestly part of the reason he ended up breaking up with each and every one of his past girlfriends. Because they couldn't see how important Y/N was to him.

That didn't mean he liked her like that... did he?

Dick splashed his face one last time before leaping out of the bath to get ready for the feast. Maybe all the training he was doing was making him tired and delusional. After all, even if he truly felt that way for her, she'd never feel the same. Maybe once - though there was no telling so - but certainly not now.

However, they'd had a moment on the stairs this afternoon, and something felt... different. The way she looked at him had sent his gut rolling with something akin to a roller coaster, and the vision of her hair in the golden rays of sun had taken his breath away completely. Dick couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that way - completely and utterly entranced.

Dick dressed himself in the only set of clothes he'd come in and opened his door to find Calliope and other guards standing in the corridor.

'We are to escort you down to the feast, Mr. Grayson,' Calliope explained. 'By order of the Queen herself. You will be seated at their table tonight.'

Dick found this surprising as he usually sat with the soldiers of the group he'd trained that day, getting to know them and laughing with them. But he was to sit at the royals table, which consisted of Queen Hippolyta, some generals, and Y/N.

When they entered the dining hall, the feast had pretty much begun as hundreds and hundreds of women were already seated at long tables that ran almost from the door to the dais where the Queen sat chatting with other generals at their own long table. Dick made sure to greet any woman he knew as he was guided up to the royals' table.

'So nice of you to join us, Mr. Grayson,' the Queen said as Dick was seated.

'The pleasure is all mine, your Majesty,' he replied politely, then noted the empty chair between him and the Queen. 'Is Y/N not down yet?'

'She is usually late to these sorts of things,' the Queen replied defeatedly. 'She always fights with the maidens about her hair and dress. In that respect, she is very much her mother.'

As Queen Hippolyta turned back to the speak with the generals, a quiet voice leant in behind him and quietly said, 'Eager to see the princess are we?'

'W-What?' Dick exclaimed to Calliope. 'No, I'm not. I just... I'm just making conversation, that's all.'

'Whatever you say, mortal,' Calliope teased, her smile knowing and irritating as she remained by Dick's head.

He turned to her, annoyed. 'What do you mean by that?'

Calliope just shrugged. 'Nothing nobody doesn't already know.' When Dick just stared blankly at her, she rolled her eyes and said, 'You cannot tell me you do not feel for our princess. Do you not?'

It was like she was reading his mind or something. It was a little freaky and off-putting. But Dick was used to off-putting questions - journalists used them all the time on him when Dick did press interviews with Bruce.

So he calmly sat in his chair and looked out to the busy hall in front of him. 'Well, I still have the bruises from our first sparring match when I first got here so I guess I do feel something because of the princess.'

Calliope chuckled and shook her head. 'Avoid the question all you want, mortal. But Truth always has an interesting way of making itself known.'

Dick didn't like her know-it-all tone, and so finally turned around and said in a quiet but hard tone. 'My relationship with Y/N isn't up for debate here. She is my best friend, and the only thing I'm interested in is restoring her trust in me and saving your island.'

'How noble...' Calliope started, but her attention turned to the opening of the hall's doors and so Dick's eyes followed. He was struck still at the vision he was met with.

It was Y/N, draped in a flattering arrangement of white cloth that was synched at her waist with a golden chain. Her H/C hair had been put up in a loose bun, held together by golden pins. Plain sandals covered her feet as she made her way towards the dais, the many bracelets and arm bands adorning her arms flashing golden in the firelight.

Dick knew he was gaping, but he couldn't help it. No one could it seemed, as Y/N greeted many women along the way, and whispers of her beauty echoed throughout the hall. When she drew closer, her eyes connected with Dick's, and instead of the cold or distant expression she'd given him since day one, she offered him an embarrassed smile.

That brief interaction sent his heart in motion. It reminded him of the time they had gone to prom in their junior year of school. It had been the first time Dick had seen Y/N with makeup and in a dress. She'd given him the same embarrassed look, and he had been just as transfixed.

Dick felt someone lean in to his ear as he continued to watch Y/N make her way to the dais. 'But are you sure there is no other reason that you are here?' Calliope finished with a whisper.

She stepped back into her position before Dick could respond, not that he knew what he would say anyway. His gut was rolling so much with indecision that he thought he might throw up.

He was brought out of his thoughts as Y/N took her seat between him and the Queen. 'Grandmother,' she greeted coolly.

'Y/N,' the Queen responded, a kind smile stretching her lips. 'You look beautiful, my dear.'

'Thank you, but I still do not understand why I must wear this to every feast we have,' Y/N argued.

'It is tradition, and you are Themyscria's princess,' the Queen explained, tapping her granddaughter's hand in comfort before returning to her previous conversation.

Y/N sighed in mild defeat as she sat back in her chair. After a moment, she clocked that Dick was looking at her and sighed again. 'Not a single word from you, Grayson.'

'I wasn't going to say anything!' Dick retorted, quickly collecting himself.

'I can see it in your eyes that you're going to laugh at me.'

It took Dick a moment to realise she wasn't joking. She fidgeted with the loose cloth that draped over her body, eyes flickering from him to the crowd and back. She genuinely thought she looked ridiculous. If he was sixteen still, maybe he would've made a comment or two.

But sixteen was a long time ago now.

'No, I wasn't,' he said, and his answer must've surprised him as she turned to him with a perplexed expression on her face. 'You look... You look beautiful, Y/N.'

Y/N's E/C eyes scanned over his face, possibly searching for any kind of lie or detection of amusement. But she obviously didn't find anything, as she smiled at him, her eyes shining with surprise. 'Thank you. I would offer you the same compliment, but you've looked the same as you did the day you got here.'

'Ruggedly handsome?'

'Hmm, I'd say a bit worse for wear.'

Dick let out a painful groan as he slapped a hand across his chest where his heart was encased under. 'Wow! Way to wound a guy.'

Y/N just laughed, and Dick joined her, genuinely happy to see her smiling as they used to together. Once the laughter died, he said, 'But seriously, Y/N, you look great. And... I'm just glad you're not calling me Nightwing anymore.'

'Well,' Y/N started, fiddling with one of her bracelets, 'I figured you deserved that much after all your help.'

Help. That's right. He was helping her save her new home and new family. It wasn't because she'd forgiven him and were suddenly best friends again.

'I'm sorry to interrupt,' a young girl said, coming to stand on the other side of the table. 'But I just had something to discuss with you, Princess.'

'Of course,' Y/N answered, turning all her attention to the girl. 'Go ahead.'

Throughout dinner, Y/N was kept busy by other conversations with warriors and young girls and teachers alike that all had questions for their princess. Y/N answered every single one of their queries with enthusiasm and grace, not batting an eye as she ate and spoke and listened.

She was a natural and a pro. The whole time she spoke, Dick couldn't help but think about the two years he'd been gone for and how many times Y/N had to soothe a fear, had to deliver a confident speech that would encourage the team to keep going no matter how bleak the future seemed.

It saddened and pained him to think he'd forced that responsibility onto her in his absence. But she'd done it, held the team together and she was doing that right now as well for her people.

Upon the conclusion of dinner, the Queen called for silence as she rose to address the hall. 'Evening everyone,' she started, her voice radiating composure and control. 'Tonight, we are in the presence of our own history in the making. Tomorrow, we face Echidna, the Mother of Monsters.'

The mention of the goddess sent whispers of fear rattling throughout the crowd, but they were quickly silenced by the raise of the Queen's hand. 'I know some of you, if not all of you, are fearful of the coming events. Echidna is a foe that will not be so easily defeated. However, this is what we have trained for. This is what us Amazons are built for.

"Think of the young women, young girls and infants in their houses sleeping peacefully right now. Think of the women you grew up with, of the friendships and sisterhoods you have forged in those years. Think of the woman beside you now. That is who you fight for when Echidna comes. Not ourselves, but the women" - the Queen made a pointed look at Dick as she continued - "and man that reside on this island tonight. They will need you when the fight comes. So are you ready?'

The entire hall exploded with cheers and whistles of eagerness, and that brought a bright smile to Queen Hippolyta's face. 'In that case, enjoy tonight. Dance, eat, drink, sing. Be free.'

By the flick of the Queen's wrist, the band in the corner Dick hadn't seen started playing beautiful music and the tables were moved to create room for a dance floor.

'Princess, you must join us for a dance!' Some young girls came around the table and gently pulled Y/N from her seat, to which Y/N just laughed as she allowed them to drag her to the dance floor. Dick watched Y/N join the other women, watched her smile stretch wide and bright, watched her embrace and let herself go as she danced.

When was the last time she'd done that?

'...when we last spoke, she sounded like she didn't want to be found. That she would come back to us when she was ready...'

'Maybe she doesn't want to see you, have you considered that?'

Kaldur's words haunted him, had been since he left M'gann and Connor's house. He just hadn't taken his friend's warning seriously until now.

Kaldur was right.

Dick rose from his seat and quickly excused himself from the party, suddenly overwhelmed by the music and the full room. He escaped to one of the balconies nearby and was relieved that he could finally hear himself think. And yet now he could hear it all in the outdoor silence - the conflicting emotions and thoughts running through him.

Did she really belong here or back home?

Did he mean as much to her anymore as much as she meant to him?

What did he truly feel for her?

What will happen when Echidna strikes tomorrow?

So many issues and so little time to solve them all.

He didn't know how long he stood there, looking out over the mountain and ocean, over the flickering lights of those who feasted in their homes. It could've been hours, and yet the full moon barely moved.

'What are you doing out here?'

Dick was knocked out of his mind at the sound of the sweet voice, and he turned to find Y/N standing on the steps that lead back inside to the bustling party, an exhausted grin adorning her flushed face. With the firelight behind her and the moon shining onto her dress, Dick could've sworn she glowed divinely.

'S-Sorry?' he called out, confused as to why she was out there in the first place.

'I asked what are you doing out here all by yourself on such a beautiful night?' Y/N repeated, walking down the steps before making her way over to him at the balcony's edge. 'You're usually one for parties if high school was any indicator.'

Dick tried to laugh, but it came out as a weak cough. 'Yeah well, we're a long way from high school, aren't we.'

'What's going on with you?' Y/N asked, and Dick could feel her stare on him. 'You've been oddly... quiet this evening.'

'I just don't feel well is all. Don't worry I will be fine for the battle tomorrow.'

'That's a load of crap, Grayson and you know it.'

Dick didn't reply, just looked out over the ocean in the hopes that she would leave. But she didn't and Dick finally turned to meet her stare. It was like she was undressing him, but not in the physical sense. In the way she'd always been able to read him and say silently that she knew he wasn't okay.

That one stare made him feel more vulnerable than being naked, or doing flips off a podium twenty metres in the air with no safety net to catch him.

'I just... I've been doing some thinking,' he started, 'and I think that... if we both survive this... that you should stay here. On Themyscira. If that is what you want.'

Y/N scrunched her brows in confusion. 'So... you're giving me permission to stay here if we all live through Echidna's war? Seriously?'

Dick turned to her fully. 'No, I mean yes- But no you don't need my permission to stay, I just... I'm sorry this is coming out all wrong.' He took a calming breath before starting again. 'What I mean to say is, I came after you for the wrong reasons. I was being selfish and stubborn. But I want you to be happy. And seeing you dance tonight with the other women... well, I can't remember the last time myself or any of the team brought you that kind of happiness.'

'What about your mission?' she asked, her voice distant, almost scared.

Dick flashed her a casual smile. 'Don't worry about it. I'll manage. I never should've come here in the first place. I'm sorry.' Dick gestured back to the stairs and started back-tracking towards them. 'Let's go rejoin the party while we still can, huh? You're right, I do love a good party.'

Just as he turned his back, Y/N called out. 'I'm not.'

He paused for a moment, then looked over his shoulder to find Y/N looking at him with an intensity that almost sent him staggering. 'What?' he asked.

'I'm not sorry you came,' she answered, taking a deep breath in to maintain her composure.

Surprised by her answer, Dick turned back to her. 'You're not?'

She shook her head, then started fidgeting with her dress and looked down. 'Am I angry you came? Yes, initially. Am I still hurting because of what you did, and is your presence just a daily reminder of that pain? Most definitely.'

That last one struck him deep. He had never wanted to be the cause of so much pain. Not to her of all people.

After another deep breath, Y/N finally looked up at him. 'But that doesn't mean I didn't miss you.'

There it was again, that look she'd given him on the stairs earlier, in fact she'd given it to him many times before, he realised. Not just on Themyscira but back home, back when they were sixteen. It was the look of truth and honesty, of adoration and care.

His heart thumped so heavily in his chest he swore Y/N could hear it, and while he didn't understand what the thought of Y/N missing him implied, he knew how it made him feel.

'I missed you too,' he said honestly, returning to stand in front of Y/N. He didn't know why, but it felt right to reach for her hands, and she didn't push him away as he enclosed his fingers around hers. 'A-And being here has made me realise something else, too.'

'What's that?' Her breath fanned his face they stood so close, closer than what simple friends should. But he didn't care, it felt right, it felt natural.

'That I... I just...' He couldn't get the words out, they were so heavy with meaning they got stuck in his throat. Both afraid and excited to say them aloud, he couldn't decide what fate would be worse. Be honest and rejected, or be honest and see if she felt the same.

'You what, Dick?' she whispered, eyes never leaving his.

They both realised that it was the first time she'd called him by his first name since he'd landed on Themyscira. And if that wasn't a sign, then Dick didn't know what would be.

'I just...' Dick started, but a shadow crossed over Y/N's face and he quickly turned to find a a giant winged creature with fangs and a humanoid body reaching to him with its claws.

'Get down!' Dick cried as he turned and dove to the ground with Y/N. He felt the talons of the creature brush against his back as he partially covered Y/N out of natural instinct. The creature screeched as it soared high above again, disappearing into the darkness despite the moonlight.

'Are you okay?' Dick asked as he helped Y/N to her feet.

'Yes, I'm fine,' Y/N said, her eyes trained on the sky.

'What was that?' Dick asked, trying to spy the creature but there was no sign of it anywhere.

'That was a harpy,' Y/N answered, then her eyes locked on to something in the sky, her face paling with fear.

Dick followed her gaze and found himself frozen with fear himself. The harpy had come back but with more of its kind. Many more. So much so they blocked out the moon and engulfed the palace in darkness.

'Echidna's war...' Y/N breathed out in disbelief. 'It' has begun.'

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

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[conceptofjoy]

flutters eyelashes do u know that asking people especially trans women why there is discourse (implying people have told people to kill themselves about it because this is the internet) why roxy is a trans woman might be an exhausting thing to ask?

quick reasoning: the pesterchum initials are references to chromosomes with GT->EB, TT (dirk), and TG (roxy) implying transness (hussie has discussed junes handles in this manner). when the last two letters of roxy’s name was being revealed, they were referenced as chromosomal letters. roxy’s pink theme and her defeating HIC. it was a widely accepted hc pre epilogues, so when roxy comes out as trans masc, people r like?????

whats the issue as long as rox is trans? well the issue is that theres context to that move. jade’s body being seen as a joke is a fuckin HUGE one. callie another trans girl comes out as nonbinary? which is? ?? its explained as callie felt like they were forced to identify as a girl to be the opposite of calliborn. calliope the humanity and troll culture weeb. its hard to feel like this was anything but a “theyre an alien thus they must be nonbinary”.

eventually even with all the explanation, people would say “ok? its not that deep? its not like i’m hurting anyone.” and the answer to that is i fucking guess?? i fuckin GUESS. and then rinse and repeat. do u get why its exhausting now.

[oops-all-goodberries]

a quick doodle of my Kenku, Calliope!

and my friends Gnoll, Ynog!

they got to go to a fancy party, and had a great time! absolutely nothing bad happened! :)

[feathers-and-song]

(For Ovis)

“Now, how many times have I told ya? You ain’t supposed to go down to the beach until after you do the—”

Calliope was seemingly distracted as she walked, wrapped up in some conversation with an individual on the other end of her phone.

“If I have to tell ya this one more time I swear I’ll come over there myself and—”

She let out a slight yelp as she bumped into someone, abruptly stopping her conversation.

“Oh! So sorry ‘bout that, hun…” she said sheepishly. She mumbled a quick, “I’ll call you later” to the person on the end of the phone before hanging up.

“You alright?”

— @mors-pulchritudo

Ovis jumped, turning around quickly. He had been startled by the unknown person, but soon calmed down when he saw the woman. He let out a small sigh of relief.

"Oh, no no! Don't worry. I'm fine. You just gave me a little fright is all," he assured her.

He was wearing a zip up jacket and some plain pants as it was one of the few ways he could walk around in public without being spotted. His horns had also been temporarily dyed a bright green.

"Sorry for standing in your way."

[chaosheadspace]

38) …because they’re running out of time.

Or 48) …out of habit.

If these haven't been asked yet? 🖤🖤🖤

This might not be what you've expected, but the combinations of prompts instantly plopped a library boys scene into my mind, so here you go.

Hob sits at the breakfast table in boxers and a t-shirt over a steaming cup of tea, reading the newspaper on the tablet. It's early Sunday morning, and with Orpheus at Calliope’s and Murphy still asleep, Hob shamelessly soaks up the peace and quiet of half past six. Murphy will get up in half an hour, he and his birding friends have planned a trip to the Walthamstow Wetlands, so Hob will have most of the day to himself. It's not that he's not getting enough alone time, rather that Hob loves the kind of quiet that early mornings bring; when the world seems less real and at the same time more true than it does other times.

The sun paints the shadows of the herbs they keep on the windowsill over the floor, a linocut of warm yellow and grey leaves and stalks and blades. Although the stalks in question are a bit droopy, Hob supposes. He lazily tasks himself to water them. Later. He's not really reading the paper, either, he's just existing, without hurry, and the idea of there being a paper to read is comforting, just like the warmth of the mug in his hands. Hob just doesn't want the actual reading of actual news disturbing him right now.

Into the middle of his peace echoes a faint, muffled thump and some indeterminate cursing, and Hob smiles. The doors of the bedroom and bathroom and bedroom again shut and open in rapid succession, underlined with the shuffle of clothes and the thumping of sleep-clumsy feet.

Then Murphy practically flies through the kitchen door, rummaging around the cupboards, finding his water bottle, filling it at the sink.

Hob leans back in his chair, watching him with a smile. “Good morning,” he greets Murphy, who still hasn't acknowledged him.

“No time,” Murphy says, “I am late, terribly late, Jessamy texted me that she has heard a bittern as she was observing the grey herons, I cannot miss—”

“Herons?” Hob asks. “Aren't those the ones who go ‘zoop’? You know, with the neck?” He knows that Murphy knows what he means. Hob shows him every bird video he finds while perusing the depths of the Internet, sometimes to his delight, sometimes to his exasperation.

Murphy shuts off the water. “No,” he says, “grey herons do not go zoop.” Definitely exasperation this time. “The bird you saw in the video was a green heron, which is very rare around here.” Murphy caps his bottle and swans back out of the kitchen. “I will see you tonight,” he shouts, reaching for his backpack on the coat rack.

“Have fun!” Hob shouts back.

Bang goes the front door, then a shuffle of hasty steps down the three stairs in front of it and then—

The sound of keys in the lock, the front door opening again, and then Murphy comes back into the kitchen, determinedly walking ‘round the table towards Hob.

“I forgot,” Murphy says, using two of his fingers to gently tip Hob's chin up and then kissing him, soft and earnest. Before Hob can properly kiss him back he's already withdrawn, placing another kiss on Hob's forehead.

“Bitterns also go zoop.” Murphy flashes Hob a grin. “In fact, bitterns are also herons.” And with another quick peck to Hob's nose, he's gone again.

Hob smiles and takes a sip of his tea, pulling the tablet closer again to look up videos of bitterns.

Video of Green heron going zoop

Video of a bittern (with call!)

Send me a kissy prompt or read the other ones here