#It's a whole thing don't worry about it

[artkaninchenbau]

A h-heartfelt reunion..?

Bonus

[thebibliosphere]

Not to be a monumental book tease, but I just got to the rewrites in book two, where Ursula and Nathan are comparing notes on their dom/domme styles with Vlad, and past me was so fucking funny because there are just paragraphs and paragraphs of Nathan being the sweetest, most gentlest, pleasure-centric "ask-me-about-how-in-love-I-am-with-my-vampire-boyfriend" dom in existence. And then there's Ursula:

Succinct and to the point 😂

[unnonexistence]

imo a core part of the newmann dynamic is like... you've got these two very very intelligent people who have spent most of their lives being Smartest Guy In The Room. which feels great! but also, it's very hard to form close and trusting relationships when everyone else sees you as Smartest Guy In The Room. and if you maybe don't have great social skills to begin with, you can't figure out how to compensate. and it's hard to build up solid self-esteem when the only thing people value you for is your intelligence, and a lot of them resent you for that, too. so really it is very very lonely.

and then they meet! and neither of them is the smartest guy in the room anymore! and that is both EXHILIRATING (omg! someone who gets me!) and TERRIFYING (the fragile pillar i built my whole self-esteem on is crumbling! help!).

they do NOT know how to cope with this. best they can do is being obsessed with each other.

[sssammich]

fic: come what may

a/n: this is a continuation of THIS post which was inspired by the fanart. please give that fanart some love if you haven't, it was so very compelling to me and that's why we're here.

anyway read the first part and then come back to this lol

---

Lena retreated to the single stall washroom after graciously thanking everyone around her for their applause and cheering. In the quiet of the small space, she was able to think about the last five minutes of her life. 

It had been a week since she had spoken last with the caped hero, the word ‘villain’ rang in Lena’s ears still to this day. 

It had stung her, lanced through her more like. But in this world, she had no choice but to keep moving forward if only to survive. She knew that reintegrating Lex back into her life was a risk, but what was the alternative? To let back in the one person she’d trusted with so much of herself only to be the same one who broke Lena irreparably? It figured that they would be one in the same. Supergirl had a habit of being duplicitous, after all. 

Despite all of these thoughts, the dance had been more than she anticipated. For a brief moment in time, her world narrowed to the size of the dance floor when she and her former best friend twirled and glided across the space, held close to one another, swaying to the beat of the song.

Until Supergirl called out to her, the tenor of her voice bringing up a world long gone, the time together but a distant memory. Only to then ask her, “what’s your plan here, Lena?” 

The illusion broke through and shattered all around them, and her eyes darkened, her heart hardened. 

“You will never trust me,” she announced finally when she looked at Kara’s beautiful face, her equally beautiful blue eyes. Now, an enemy. “I can see it in your eyes.” 

She pulled away and turned, not sure she could look at that face again, anymore. Still, she would admit that it was enough consolation to see Supergirl on edge, to put her on her red-booted back foot.

She recalled turning her head slightly and caught enough of Supergirl's departure from the middle of the dance floor and into the evening sky. It gave her some satisfaction, but not nearly enough to placate the ache in her chest. 

Lena stared at her reflection; her makeup remained impeccably applied, impeccably in place despite the exertion of their dancing. The heat of Kara’s hands lingered all over her body, the warmth of those hands pressed into her, holding her in the illusion of safety as the song notes progressed. Her former best friend was clumsy in her movements, at least at first. It would have delighted Lena plenty to see Supergirl stumble her way through her movements. Yet, she held her own and led the two of them throughout the dance floor in an acceptable tango. On any other day, any other moment, she would have been charmed by it, let herself be led around so long as they stayed in each other's arms.

But those moments were no longer accessible to them. 

She returned to her guests and maneuvered through the compliments and conversations, but every now and again, she glanced up into the open sky. Just in case.

—

In the end, Lex was defeated and rid of once and for all. The details of it were fuzzy to her now, but none of it mattered. Simply that he was gone from her life for good, that he would no longer be a terror to anyone and everyone, to those she loved. 

Once again, however, she was left to pick up what remained of his ruinous rampage, if only to be surrounded by something beyond her isolation. 

It was just a few scant weeks ago that she’d reached a truce with Kara and her Superfriends (nevermind that she’d once thought of them as her own friends, as well). Now here she stood weeks later: alone. 

Lena had run out of options or excuses and finally sought out help from Kara without hope or expectation for true reconciliation or forgiveness, from either of them. They’d drawn their lines from one another so long ago, she’d considered them carved in stone. 

Now she stood on her empty balcony overlooking the city just after the sun had set and the sky was now engulfed in dark blue. 

Without a brother, a mother, a father. An orphan, twice over. It seemed that she was destined to live in solitude. They say no man was an island, yet perhaps Luthors were. 

She gazed at the last remnants of the setting sun across the horizon, not giving away that she heard the sound of a cape billowing at the far end of the balcony. She made no move to say or do anything, simply took a sip of the amber liquid in her glass. If Supergirl had anything to say, then Lena was not going to stop her. 

“How are you?” Kara finally said, after minutes trickled past them. 

She scoffed, unable to help herself. She glanced over her shoulder and watched as Kara hovered outside of the balcony. She simply took another sip of her drink. 

Kara, never one to leave well enough alone, moved so that her feet touched the ground and she stood somewhere behind her. Lena closed her eyes and took a swig of all of her remaining drink. 

“You’re trespassing.” 

“I know.” 

“I can have you arrested.” 

“That’s fine.” 

“What do you want from me?” 

“A dance.” 

Lena quickly turned around, Kara standing only a few feet away, her arm outstretched. She glanced up and met blue eyes, an ocean of patience. 

Resigned, Lena unfurled the fist by her side and placed it in the offered hand. She took a step forward until their bodies were almost flush with one another, Kara’s other hand placed on the small of her back. An easy fit between them. A thought that Lena shoved into a box for rumination and reflection later on. 

“There’s no music,” she commented needlessly even as she put her free hand on Kara’s shoulder, her nerves manifesting in lightly scratching the fabric of the supersuit under her fingertips. 

“There’s always music.” Just then, Kara pulled her phone from a hidden compartment behind her and pressed the screen until soft music started playing. It was the final duet in Moulin Rouge between the two leads, where she and Kara shed a tear or two when they watched it in the past—a distant lifetime ago. They were now extraordinarily different people from those versions of themselves. 

“This musical was a tragedy.” 

The superhero shrugged, her eyes focused past Lena’s head. “I know.” 

“Are you trying to tell me something?” 

Kara eventually returned her attention until their eyes met and Lena waited. She watched as Kara took a deep breath and offered Lena a cautious smile, resignation plastered on her own face. “I’m trying to tell you a lot of somethings.”

She studied Kara’s face, wanted to glean any kind of information from her features alone, but Kara betrayed nothing. “Start with one.” 

“I’ve been practicing.” When she furrowed her brows in confusion, Kara clarified by twirling Lena out of her embrace only to pull her back into her orbit once again. This time without bumbling through any of the movements nor without a stutter in her steps.  

The move surprised Lena enough to take her breath away, her senses suddenly alight as she considered what any of it meant. When? How? Why?

“Tell me another,” she whispered, her hands grasping tighter onto Kara just as the song started to swell. 

“I want to start over.” 

Lena stopped in her tracks so Kara did, too. Distantly, Lena observed that neither released their holds of one another.

“Why? We’ll only hurt each other.” 

“Maybe. Probably,” Kara supplied before tugging Lena back closer to her and swayed side to side to encourage Lena to do the same. “But life without you in it is infinitely worse, I think. So if it’s all the same to you, I’ll take my chances.” 

Lena’s heart felt like it was getting catapulted across time and space. And maybe it was actually getting catapulted along with every sway she took with Kara. Still, she couldn’t help but push. “Even with a villain?” 

Kara grimaced slightly before flashing an apologetic smile. “Sure, Lena. Even with a villain.” 

“I was one, you know,” she offered, watching for Kara’s response. She was complicit, had gotten her own hands dirty. She owned up to that. 

“I know.” But Kara simply shrugged and brought them closer. “Believe it or not, I’ve been one, too. You’re not exactly very special in that department, Lena.” 

A small laugh that bubbled out of her caught her off guard, and Kara smiled at her before spinning her away and back together again until Lena hid her face against the crook of Kara’s neck until the song finally ended. 

They parted from each other, Kara taking a step back until she was a few feet away, her hands clasped in front of her. 

“Thanks for the dance,” Kara said. 

“You’ve gotten better.” 

“I appreciate that. It means the practice has been paying off.” As if nodding to herself, Kara gave her a smile and began to turn so as to take off into the night sky, but Lena stopped her. 

“Tell me one more,” she urged, realizing she didn’t want their interaction to end quite yet. 

Kara then looked over her shoulder. “Can I come back tomorrow?” 

“If you’d like.” 

“I’ll tell you tomorrow.” 

“I’ll hold you to it.” 

Kara’s body twisted so she was looking at Lena more fully. “Goodnight, Lena.” 

“Goodnight, Kara.” 

Lena watched as she took off into the sky, disappearing into the night. She’d stayed out there for a little while longer, the heat of her drink coursing through her veins while the moment between them warmed her against the cool breeze that passed through. 

Nothing had yet been fixed, and there was a long road ahead of them. But something in her caged heart had loosened, allowing her to breathe again. That was a start.

[vaguely-concerned]

I'm playing through Dragon Age 2 again and I just can't get over how... idk how to say it exactly, but the way you feel, in every moment of this game, how much Varric loves Hawke. It feels entwined with everything, it breathes through every part of the narrative, it blooms diegetigally through the integration of story and gameplay, makes you a co-conspirator in that love in a way maybe only a video game could.

It's in the way I don't think this story is a defense of Hawke only -- or even primarily -- directed at Cassandra, but at Hawke themselves. Beneath everything else going on there's the quiet, utterly unshakable refutation of Hawke's worst fears: Did you think you mattered, Hawke? Did you think anything you ever did mattered? . . . You're a failure, and your family died knowing it. Rising through the story as Varric tells it there's a fiercely tender voice saying: Yes, you did matter. In tragedy or in triumph, for better or for worse, in love or in hate, you always mattered. The ultimate tragedy of Hawke is always right there in the open before the story even starts letting you in on telling it; they couldn't fix anything. They couldn't stop the downward spiral Kirkwall was set on -- the real truth is that no one person ever could. And yet the point of DA2 is that it matters that they tried, and it matters that there were people who loved and were loved along the way, however badly it all failed in the end. Hawke is the Bioware protagonist who succeeds the least, and they're the character who matters the most, to me. (This is also why the Absolution reveal did not shake me in the least haha, my love for Hawke has nothing at all to do with whether they succeeded or failed at anything.)

What Varric is saying, in the only way he seems to be able to say the really real things -- through stories -- is so simple and so fundamental. You were here, and I loved you. There's the emotional heart of it, at the end of it all, that love and grief and recognition. It's so dizzyingly intimate. There's so much distancing, layers upon layers of obfuscation, to be able to say it. It drives me insane!!!! It makes me feel the same way that 'Poem' by Langston Hughes does:

I loved my friend.  He went away from me.  There's nothing more to say.  The poem ends,  Soft as it began,— I loved my friend. 

He loved his friend. They went away from him. What more is there to say. (Many, many, many things, when you're a compulsive liar and storyteller, but hey sometimes you have to deploy a whole armada of lies to tell one simple truth, I understand, I'm a writer too lol)

[dragonling348]

fuck it post more shitty Peri content

[naamahdarling]

.

[bettertwin1]

Hate those "reblog to prove ur not a terrible person, if you don't then you support these terrible things!!!" it always goes to my head and messes with me man

[luxlightly]

The Father the Son and the Third Secret Thing

[hyperfixatinator]

DPxDC Headcanon: the title "King of the Infinite Realms" is misleading

Sure, there are indeed an infinite amount of worlds and dimensions across the multiverse. However, the name "Infinite Realms" is actually referring to the space in between said realms. The malleable borders that act as cushions to prevent all these realities from constantly colliding with each other. If you compare the worlds themselves to bones, then the Infinite Realms would be the cartilage preventing friction whenever they move.

So if Danny ever became the king of the Infinite Realms, he wouldn't actually have authority over whatever goes on within said realms. After all, each world has their own set(s) of afterlives and deities already taking care of that. No, Danny would only be in charge of that squishy, ectoplasmic stretch of space that portals need to punch holes through in order to cross over.

[reddpenn]

Two and a half years after her supposed death, Chiaki Nanami awakens from a coma into a twisted and unfamiliar world. Her friends have kickstarted the apocalypse, destroying everything - even their own bodies and minds - as they chase the glorious high of Despair.

As their class rep, it’s Chiaki’s duty to stop them. Her plan is simple. One by one, she’s going to confront the Remnants of Despair. And she’s going to save them, or die trying.

Chapter nine of Towa City Remnant is up! Or if you’re new to the Honorary Remnant AU, you can start at the beginning!

[creature-competition]

Creature Competition: Round 2B

[awesome-shoes-with-wings]

I was left without a choice, and without a doubt - I finished this character design thingie @hedgehodgy, and I fear I will continue to be obsessed with arting for your fic.

And the rest of you! D'you love traumatised little guys!? Do you love angst and unresolved tension!? Do you like complicated yet endearing families dynamics!? Then Mercy Upon Ourselves is a MUST-READ for you, so go read it! It's good! Like 'stay up at night and think about it' good!

[canisalbus]

Would you classify Machete as neurodivergent at all? Like in an autistic way? Or is it just the overwhelming ambition, trauma, and anxiety?

I think I've projected so many of my own autistic traits on him over the years, chances are he's at least a little bit on the spectrum.

[mikimeiko]

Bodies | 06. The World is Yours

[threewaysdivided]

In the spirit of the ask game I didn't put anything in the answer, but in apology for the accidental-pavloving, let me see if I can help you find the right tag to condition yourself to.

I have a few different tags for my stuff:

#young justice: deathly weapons is the general tag where I put everything related to this fic (writing updates, ask responses, things from other people et cetera). This tag can get a bit... let's say enthusiastically cluttered so here are some sub-tags to help you filter for what you want:

#yj:dw is the tag I use exclusively for new releases - chapters or new artworks to go with current/future chapters. This is the one to look to for "official updates".

#writing update is the tag I use when talking about Works In Progress - prose writing on the next queued chapter or outlining work on future chapters. Posts tagged as #yj:dw don't get the #writing update tag, so you can filter either depending on what you want to see.

#YJ:DW Meta is a tag which I use for non-fic analytical content (character studies, world-building etc) if you want to see me go full nerd about this.

I am also delighted to shout out #art of my stuff because this site is wonderful and full of amazing people who have made fanart for Deathly Weapons. Fanart. Of my stuff. Not to get parasocial but I love them, they're amazing. Go show their work some love!

In the meantime, here is a compiled fic recs and meta post if you want some DW-adjacent content to tide you over.

Hope this helps you find something satisfying to chew on while you wait for me to emerge from the mines again.

You are amazing, but I am constantly having the rug pulled out from under me when I see a reblog about YJ:DW and I go, "ooooh... update?" and then it is not. I have been conditioned like pavlov's dogs and if you keep crying wolf on me without there actually being a wolf, I will be going feral. I hope you feel better soon; you are loved and appreciated!

.

Anonymously tell me how you feel about me. I can’t reply, I just have to read it and post it.