#did i really write that much oh my god

[doomedclockworkdotmp3]

heeyyy gaaanggg

the pose and the background of the album version (left) are based on oingo boingos only a lad album art. not cause i think he has anything to do with it but just cause ive been wantin to draw that pose for like. weeks and i didnt know who to put there. so why not my latest bug man.

[gingermintpepper]

As usual I read your tags always and so you said Apollo did not ask for resurrection of Asclepius and Hyacinthus so i just wanted to share this. About Asclepius death I read it on theoi.com, that earlier authors don't make him resurrect as a god but that's a later development mentioned only by Roman authors like Cicero, Hyginus and Ovid. But still Apollo has a role in Ovid's version

Ovid, Fasti 6. 735 ff (trans.Boyle) (Roman poetry C1st B.C. to C1st A.D.) : Clymenus [Haides] and Clotho resent the threads of life respun and death's royal rights diminished. Jove [Zeus] feared the precedent and aimed his thunderbolt at the man who employed excessive art. Phoebus [Apollon], you whined. He is a god; smile at your father, who, for your sake, undoes his prohibitions [i.e. when he obtains immortality for Asklepios].

So here it is actually because of Apollo the decision was taken to resurrect him as god. And with Hyacinthus, I don't think I've read about Artemis playing the primary role. I know in Sparta there was a picture of Artemis, Athena and Aphrodite carrying Hyacinthus and his sister to heaven.

This is not on theoi.com but I saw on Tumblr it's from Dionysiaca by Nonnus

Second, my lord Oiagros wove a winding lay, as the father of Orpheus who has the Muse his boon companion. Only a couple of verses he sang, a ditty of Phoibos, clearspoken in few words after some Amyclaian style: Apollo brought to life again his longhaired Hyacinthos: Staphylos will be made to live for aye by Dionysos.

So since he is singing inspired by amyclean stories it probably means in that place it was believed Apollo was the one to bring back his lover to life.

Apollo as god of order was very important so i think it shows how special these people (and admetus too) were to him that he decided to go against the order for them 🥺

ANON!! Shakes you like a bottle of ramune!! BELOVED ANON!!!!! I'm littering your face with kisses, I'm anointing you with olive oil and honey - you absolutely made my night with this because, not only did I get the pure serotonin shot of having someone interact with my tags (yippee, wahoo!!) I also got to have that wonderful feeling of "oh wow, have I misunderstood something that was integral to my understanding of this myth/figure this whole time or is this a case of interpretational differences?" which is imo vital for my aims and interests as someone who enjoys mythological content and literature.

I'll preface my response with this: Hyacinthus is by far the hardest of these to get accounts for because his revival itself, as you very astutely point out, is generally accounted for in painting/ritual format which muddies the waters on who interceded for what. I wasn't actually familiar with that passage from the Argonautica - and certainly didn't remember it so thank you very much for bringing it to my attention!

That said, what I've come to understand, both about Hyacinthus and about Asclepius is that in the accounts of their deaths, Apollo's position is startlingly clear.

For Hyacinthus, it is established time and again that Apollo would have sacrificed everything for him - his status, his power, his very own immortality and divinity. Ovid writes that Apollo would have installed him as a god if only he had the time:

(Ovid. Metamorphoses. Book X. trans. Johnston)

Many other writers too speak of how Apollo abandoned his lyre and his seat at Delphi to spend his days with Hyacinthus, but they also all agree that when it came to his death - he was powerless. Ovid gives that graphic account of Apollo's desperation as he tries all his healing arts to save him to no avail:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book X. Apollo me boy, methinks him dead. trans Johnston)

Bion, in one of his fragments, writes that Apollo was "dumb" upon seeing Hyacinthus' agony:

(Bion, The Bucolic Poets. Fragment XI. trans Edmonds)

Even Nonnus in the Dionysiaca speaks constantly of Apollo's helplessness in the face of Hyacinthus' fate where he writes that the god still shivers if a westward wind blows upon an iris:

and when Zephyros breathed through the flowery garden, Apollo turned a quick eye upon his young darling, his yearning never satisfied; if he saw the plant beaten by the breezes, he remembered the quoit, and trembled for fear the wind, so jealous once about the boy, might hate him even in a leaf...

(Nonnus, Dionysiaca, Book 3. trans Rouse)

And the point here is just that - Apollo, at least as far as I've read, cannot avert someone's death. He simply can't. Once they're already dead - once Fate has cut their string - all Apollo's power is gone and he can do nothing no matter how much he wants to. And this is, as far as I know, supported with the accounts of Asclepius as well!

Since you specifically brought up Ovid's account, I'll also stick only to Ovid's account but in Metamorphoses when we get Ovid's version of Coronis' demise, he writes that Apollo intensely and immediately regrets slaughtering Coronis. He regrets it so intensely that he, like he does with Hyacinthus, does his best to resuscitate her:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo's regret)

And like Hyacinthus, when it becomes clear that what has happened cannot be undone, Apollo wails:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo wept.)

Unlike his mother, Asclepius in her womb had not yet died and so, with the last of Apollo's strength, he does manage, at least, to save him.

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo puts the 'tearing out' in Asclepius.)

But it goes further than even that because Ocyrhoe, Chiron's daughter, a prophetess who unduly gained the ability to directly proclaim the secrets of the Fates, upon seeing the baby Asclepius, immediately prophesies his glory, his inevitable death and then his fated ascension:

(Ovid. Metamorphoses, Book Two. Ocyrhoe's prophecy. trans Johnston)

Before she too succumbs to her hubris and is transformed by the Fates into a horse so she can no longer speak secrets that aren't hers to share.

These things ultimately are important because it establishes two very important things: 1) Apollo can't do anything in the face of the ultimate Fate of mortals, which is, of course, death and 2) even when Apollo is Actively Devastated, regretful, yearning, mournful, guilty or some unholy combination of all of the above, when someone is dead, he accepts that they are gone. Even if he is devastated by it, even if he'll cry all the rest of his days about it - if they're dead? Apollo lets them go. In Fasti, when Zeus brings Asclepius back, he does not say Apollo asked him to - Zeus, or well, in this case Jove, brings Asclepius back because he wants Apollo to stop being mad at him.

(Ovid, Fasti VI. Apollo please come home your father misses you. trans. A.S Kline)

Even Boyle's translation which you used above in your findings hints that Zeus made Asclepius a god because he wanted Apollo to stop grieving. (i.e 'smile at your father', 'for your sake [he] undoes his prohibitions')

And like, Apollo was deeply upset by Asclepius' death - apart from killing the Cyclops in anger, in book 4 of the Argonautica, Apollonius writes that the Celts believe the stream of Eridanus to be the tears Apollo shed over the death of Asclepius when he left for Hyperborea after being chastised by Zeus for killing his Cyclops:

But the Celts have attached this story to them, that these are the tears of Leto's son, Apollo, that are borne along by the eddies, the countless tears that he shed aforetime when he came to the sacred race of the Hyperboreans and left shining heaven at the chiding of his father, being in wrath concerning his son whom divine Coronis bare in bright Lacereia at the mouth of Amyrus.

It all paints a very clear picture to me. Apollo did not ask for either of them to be brought back. Though bringing them back certainly pleased and delighted him, they are actions of other gods who are moved by Apollo's grief and mourning and seek to mollify him. Him not asking doesn't mean he didn't want them back which I think is a very important distinction by the by, but it simply means that Apollo knows the natural order of things and, even if it hurts, he isn't going to press his luck about it.

Which, of course, brings us to Admetus. And I'm really not going to overcomplicate this, Admetus is different because, very vitally, Admetus is not dead. Apollo can't do a thing once Fate has been carried out and Death has claimed a mortal but you know what he absolutely can do? Bargain like hell with the Fates before that point of inevitability. And that's what he does, ultimately for Admetus and Alcestis. He sought to prolong Admetus' life, not revive him from death or absolve him from death altogether and even after getting the Fates drunk, he's still only able to organise a sacrifice - a life for a life - something completely contingent on whether some other mortal would be willing to die in Admetus' place and not at all controllable by Apollo's own power.

All of these things, I think come back to that point you made - that Apollo's place as a god of order is very important and therefore these people are very special to him if it means he's willing to go against that order but, I also wish to challenge that opinion if you'd let me. Apollo's place as a god of order is very important and therefore, I would argue, that it is even more important that it is shown that he does not break the divine order, especially for the people that mean the most to him. The original context of my comments which started this conversation were on this lovely, lovely post by @hyacinthusmemorial which contemplated upon Asclepius from the perspective of an Emergency Medical personnel and included, in their tags, the very poignant lines "there's something about Apollo letting go when Asclepius couldn't that eats my heart away" and "you do what you can, you do your best, but you don't ever reach too far" and I think that's perfectly embodied with the Apollo-Asclepius dichotomy. Apollo grieves. He wails, he cries, he does his best each and every time to save that which is precious to him but he does not curse their nature, he does not resent that they are human and ultimately, he accepts that that which is mortal must inevitably die. There is nothing that so saliently proves that those who uphold rules are also their most staunch followers - if Apollo wants to delight in his place as Fate's mouthpiece, he cannot undo Fate. And, if even the god of healing and order himself cannot undo death, what right does Asclepius, mortal as he is, talented as he is, have to disrespect it?

The beauty of these stories isn't that Apollo loved them enough to bring them back. The beauty is that Apollo loved them enough to let them go.

[spaciebabie]

springtrap but he has claws and he slowwwwwly sinks them into youi while holdoing you close purring softly hes not eveb truing ta hurt you on ourpose justtrying ta keep you as close as possible and get you ta stay put for just a few more seconds oohohohhh ohhh hospital hostpital hospital. emergency room hospital

[lunalikestowriteanddraw]

I just realized something. In one of the episodes surrounding the wedding (I think it might’ve been 15 but also could’ve been 14), Gricko specifically mentioned inviting Pa Coal, and then was surprised and upset when Gideon told him that his Pa was dead.

I find this interesting because this insinuates 2 things.

1) Gideon mentioned his Pa enough for Gricko to know about him—even though Gideon failed to mention his Pa’s death (though I can’t blame him too much for that. I imagine he doesn’t like to bring up his Pa often in general)

2) Gricko didn’t mention a Ma Coal, and Gideon never mentions his mother later on down the line. So I’m guessing that, probably early on, Gricko probably asked Gideon about his mother at some point, and Gideon probably told him that he either never met her or he was too young to really remember her.

This is literally nothing, but I found it interesting all the same

[cluescorner]

I gave myself a writing challenge and I am fascinated by it

So basically I put the robins in a randomizer to give them a new order/role (because I just...kinda wanted to see what would happen + I like role-reversal AUs) and got results that are giving me a fucking brain blast.

Stephanie, the first sidekick who defines the role

Tim, the sidekick who dies and comes back wrong

Dick, the sidekick who saves Batman from himself

Damian, the sidekick who was never supposed to be a sidekick but would go on to prove everyone wrong

Jason, the youngest sidekick who is still the Kid Wonder

...So this is fucking wild. I've got some ideas and several of these fit perfectly (Dick's role is pretty similar to his one in canon), but some of these are fucking INCREDIBLE to explore (Steph being the first Robin is something I never even considered but tbh I kinda love it).

I probably won't write a fic or anything because tbh I don't like publishing my writing that much, but I might expand this into a full AU and post about it. I might randomize other stuff too (ie, stuff that I cannot change vs stuff that I cannot keep the same) but this fucking rules as a starting point.

[luckycharms1701]

*waddles into your inbox and drops this into you lap before scurrying away*

Hello

Behold my humble offering to the Mikey Well Please Suffer 🧡🫡

Angel Kisses

It was just another day.

You were at the lair, just chilling with MIkey on the couch.

He was scribbling furiously into what looked to be a well warn and obviously well loved sketch book, if the frequently thumbed pages and what seemed like a 100 faded stickers were any indicator.

His tongue was poking out in the corner of his mouth, bleping the way he did when he was working intently at something.

And intent he was.

You watched as his eyes flicked around the page, bright with that rare sense of direct focus as his hand danced over the page with his pencil. he was even humming a little, or maybe it was him just talking to himself.

He did that sometimes when he would get into these “Mikey Mojo Moments” as he called them, and you absentmindedly wondered if that was a subconscious trait he had somehow picked up from hanging around Donnie.

You could never be too sure with this one. He was a wonder through and through. A wonder that you could never quite believe that somehow landed as your best friend.

Your lips quirked up with a soft smile at that thought as you secretly peaked at Mikey from over your phone.

You liked seeing him like this. Happy. Creative. In his element.

It had certainly been a while since he had last hyper focused on an art project. But when he did….whew… it was like magic in action. He just had this…light about him that sort of made him…well…you didn’t know…

It sounded cheesy but he just kind of… glowed.

Your eyes flicked to the little bright spots that decorated Mikey’s face like small yellow freckles that peaked out from underneath his orange mask.

Just like those spots lit up his face, without even trying, Mikey could just light up a room.

There was just something about that sunny smile of his that always made your heart happy. He made you happy. Chasing those rainy skies that often would cloud into your life with that ever bright sunshine of his.

You loved it. You loved him.

Whether platonically or romantically, you really didn’t know. You really didn’t care either. All you knew was that you wanted him in your life anyway you could have him because it was brighter simply because he was now in it.

So lost in your musings, you hadn’t realized that Mikey had somehow become aware of your attention. Might be due to the fact that you were burning holes into the sides of his head with your gaze. Or maybe it was the fact that he had ADHD, and he caught ahold of more than what meets the eye.

Who knows? Turtle was a ninja. A ninja who was now grinning like a cat before the cream in front of you.

“See something that you like, Clementine?” Mikey all but purred to you with a teasing waggle of his eyebrows.

You blinked in surprise as his words broke you from your revelry, a slight heat coming to your cheeks as you realized that you most indubitably had been caught staring. Directly at him.

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had in fact caught you, you cleared your throat and placed your phone down.

“Actually yeah…” You quirked back at him, placing an elbow on the back of the couch, so you could cradle your head with your palm with a soft smirk. “I was thinking how cute your freckles are.”

It was Mikey’s turn to blink as your comment was obviously not what he was expecting.

“My…freckles?” He echoed dumbly, placing his sketchbook down and turning to you, his head tilted in such a way that you were somewhat reminded of a curious puppy.

You chuckled softly at the mental image and nodded with a soft grin, reaching up to gently trace those little sunspots on Mikey’s face with your finger.

“Mhm. They’re super cute, and I’m jealous. I’ve always wanted freckles.”

Mikey froze the instant your finger touched his face, his baby blues widening comically to the size of dinner plates.

Mikey had always been a very affectionate turtle, that was no question. Hugs, cuddles, hand holding, playing with hair, painting fingernails, you named it, he did it.

Well…that was the problem. In this case at least. He did it. Usually he was the one to always initiate with you warming up and reciprocating only after he started.

This was the first time you had ever touched him first, and in a way that was so…so…Mikey didn’t have a word for it, but he knew in that moment he didn’t want it to stop.

He swallowed a little as he felt the tip of your finger slowly trace his “freckles” as you called them with that unfairly adorable smile. That smile paired with that soft look in your eye made his heart skip a beat, and Mikey absentmindedly found himself leaning in a little closer to your touch.

“You…wanted freckles?” He murmured curiously, feeling that a moment like this needed to be treated with a whisper for whatever reason.

You chuckled again and nodded your head, a most darling shade of pink crossing your cheeks as Mikey leaned into your hand. You changed from gently poking his forehead with your finger to tenderly cupping his cheek with your palm, lightly caressing a “freckle” on the corner of his jaw with your thumb.

“Yeah…I always thought they looked so pretty. Small smackerings on the bridges of peoples noses. Dark spots like cheetahs on others. Or even the ones that are so tiny they look little stars on peoples faces, peeping through the skin. I once heard freckles described as angel kisses, little reminders of a love that couldn’t be contained and well…as cheesy as it sounds…I really haven’t been able to see them any other way since.”

A muscle thumped in Mikey’s jaw as your thumb brushed up against the sensitive skin there and he had to resist the urge to just lean into your hand and start churring like some ridiculous reptilian cat, it’s just felt so good. He shook off the shiver that travels down his shell and blinked up at you with his signature crooked grin.

“Angel kissed huh? You’re right. That is cheesy, but lucky for you, I love pizza so cheese totally is my jam.”

You snorted at that and reached up your hand to poke Mikey’s forehead with a shake of your head.

“Cheese is your jam? What you making sandwiches or something up there, Mikey Man?”

Mikey snickered at the poke and reached up to capture your hand with his, holding it tightly as he smirked up at you. There was an interesting light in his eyes as he caught your gaze directly. It seemed friendly and innocent enough at first glance, but the way he held it had you leading to believe otherwise.

That look was dangerous because it made your heart do that weird skip hop thing like a drunken frog attempting to land a jump onto a lily pad, but before you could further that thought, Mikey interrupted with his own.

His head tilted at that doglike angle again and he leaned in with his all too eager curiosity.

“What can I say? I’m always in the mood for a good snack. But, back to the angel kisses thing. You got me curious now. If you could have freckles where would you want them most?”

You blinked a little at Mikey’s question, and sat back a little, tilting your own head in thought. Your free hand that wasn’t being held captive by Mikey’s reached up and lightly touched the bridge of your nose and the tops of your cheeks.

“Huh…that’s…actually a good question. Probably somewhere around here? Gimme that cute look that you have working so well for you or something.”

Mikey sputtered at the light flirt and shook his head with a grin. He rather adored how quick you were. It meant you were comfortable with him and that alone meant the world to him.

He looked up at you as you traced your own face, that same gleam shining in his eye. Mikey leaned in a little closer and said with a raise of his eyebrow, “You know…I could probably help with that…”

Your brows furrowed as you looked at Mikey incredulously before your eyes widened and you excitedly grabbed his hand and leaned closer.

“You…can help me get freckles? Wait…is that something you can do with your ninpo?!”

Mikey was not expecting you to lean in as close as you did, but he wasn’t complaining. Not at all.

He’d never get sick of getting to see the little masterpieces that were your eyes up close like this. Mikey could get lost in those eyes if you let him.

Shaking his head to clear that train of thought, Mikey just smirked up at you.

“Hmm something like that…I was thinking more along the lines of…angel kisses and what not.”

It was your turn to parrot back dumbly as your eyebrow raised in confusion, your heart picking up pace from a drunken frog to buzzed hummingbird.

“A-angel kisses?” You stammered especially as Mikey leaned in even closer, his nose almost brushing yours.

His hand reached up to cup your cheek in mirror of your movements just moments earlier. That bright rare sense of direct focus now centered solely on you as he leaned in even more, his warm breath barely ghosting over your face as he whispered in a low murmur.

“Yes…angel kisses…because I do put the angel in Michealangelo after all…”

@yorshie @justalotoffanfiction

[volfoss]

it is beyond infuriating how anne rice seems to insist on marius being a positive force in anyone's life ever. like she can't fully commit to exploring the fact he groomed armand and has repeatedly taken away his consent for what marius thinks is best (take the end of TVA as an example) and just kind of flatly puts it in the narrative. there's not really much interest in how these horrific events make marius come across as the worst because EVERYONE loves him. for gods sake, lestat learns from armand exactly what marius did to him in TVL and then proceeds to go find marius and be super friendly to him in the same fucking book. even armand and pandora, two of the people who have MORE than enough right to hate him, do not. it doesnt feel like shes trying to explore the toxicity of the abusive dynamic he traps them in, it just is there. and like yeah ofc the toxic vampire romance series but i think that this should be handled with more care. and it is not ever really framed in a way that she is interested in exploring how marius should easily be one of the most horrific characters in this series because it kind of feels like sa/rape/grooming/other things of that sort are just put there to further plot and not to really get the respect that they deserve in a medium.

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

post apocalypse au where the plot of stranger things doesn't happen but vecna still tears the world open and brings the upside down right side up. and the scattered people who managed to survive the initial earthquakes and power outages and complete breakdown of society have to contend not only with creatures from the upside down trying to eat them, but also with what the bleeding of an alternate dimension into their reality is doing to their bodies

people with prolonged exposure to larger tears seem to be slowly changed into something else, like some radioactivity from the dimension is mutating them. people grow claws, or leathery wings, or their face peels open, or they turn into unrecognisable piles of eldritch goo. there's vampires, were-demogorgons, flayed, weird ghosts, and the number of super powered people like el was in the show skyrockets

other people who manage avoid this fate shun those that fell to it. and to an extent it's reasonable, some people who get changed in this way completely lose their humanity, like the flayed, and while others retain it it probably doesn't seem that way when a vampire-like person needs human blood to survive. but a lot of people are just as terrified of the changes happening to them as other people are, and while they may not be harmless, they'd much rather use their new biological advantages to keep people safe

despite this, people that have been 'corroded' by the upside down are ostracised, feared, sometimes outright hunted by regular humans. so sometimes, they band together. form their own little apocalypse groups

eddie is in one of those groups. he wouldn't say he's the leader, bc they don't really have a hierarchical structure and eddie likes to think he's managed to maintain his anarchic ideals even in the face of the apocalypse. but he is the oldest, and the most scary looking (if not the most actually dangerous), so the combination of everyone being younger and his ability to scare off corroded-hunters that come looking for them means everyone else kind of follows his lead

so no one really questions when he comes back to camp one day holding two passed out humans. a mole-dotted man and a freckled woman, probably about eddie's age, who were injured and had crawled into a ruin building to die. and like. what was eddie supposed to do, leave them there??? no, gareth, it has nothing to do with how pretty the guy is. no, eddie doesn't know how they'll react when they wake up in the middle of a corroded camp, they'll cross that bridge when they get there. el says she senses that they're good people, so clearly everything will be fine actually!!!!!

[brutal-nemesis]

E&T: Caught in the Clutches of Lust

No im not sorry for any of this. cope and seethe

Btw I used a line from @painsandconfusion and @wormwriting's degradation starter list that I saved THREE YEARS AGO for this very moment. I am always playing the long game (⊙ˍ⊙)

←Previous - Masterlist

Ingredients: VERY creepy/intimate whumper, implied threat of noncon, a lot of noncon touching (unsexy but right on the edge), implied noncon kiss, unsexy nudity

Shiori?

No, it couldn’t be, she was a world away, she was human, he’d left her waiting by the fountain after the party and she’d moved on and forgotten about him, no reason to follow him here, into the depths of hell, looking exactly like she had the night of the party, jarringly out of place in her pretty dress, smiling at him like he wasn’t a blood-covered, unrecognizable version of himself.

And then he blinked, and all of a sudden it wasn’t Shiori at all, but Lythia, wearing the same yellow bandana that she always did while she was working in the palace gardens, the little black braids of her hair just as beautiful as he remembered. There was no pity in her dark eyes, like there had been the last time he saw her, looking up at him from the crowd while he was chained to that pillar, promising he’d be rescued after it was already too late. Actually seeing her hurt, and Erebus looked away for a moment, just a moment…

When he saw the woman in front of him now, his jaw dropped, eyes widening, his tense, burning hands finally relaxing.

“Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe.”

Her voice was just as he remembered, and she was smiling at him so kindly, her eyes soft, her gloved hand outstretched, she was here to save him, she’d found a way to bring him back, he was too tired and scared and stressed to do anything else besides surrender control to her once again, to take her small hand and follow her blindly towards the fate she’d chosen for him. She was squeezing his still-healing hand tightly in hers, but she could do whatever she wanted with him just as long as she got him out of this place.

“Well, that was easy.”

The voice wasn’t Shiori’s, or Lythia’s, and it certainly wasn’t Neteri’s.

Erebus jumped back, finally seeing the person next to him clearly for the first time. She-they?-smirked at him, bright purple eyes sparkling. Their white hair was long and wavy, partially braided back with impeccable precision. Gold jewelry and a low-cut black dress accentuated their natural beauty, seeming very out of place in this hellish world. Most striking of all, though, was their bright red skin, a shade that was very familiar to Erebus.

This was a lust demon, and she’d lead him right into her lair.

“You-how did-I-”

They laughed, deep and bright, obviously amused by his shock and confusion. “You only saw what your heart wanted you to see, darling. It’s not my fault you turned into a meek little lamb and followed me here.”

Erebus’s face grew hot. “Well I-I…” his wings sank behind him. He’d thought he was about to be saved. Like an idiot. She’d led him away from the bubbling pools and acrid air into a sort of cave, a furnished one at that. But now he was cornered in here, at a disadvantage in the cramped space. He swallowed and changed the topic, hand resting on the pommel of his sword. “Who are you and what do you want with me?”

“Apologies.” She bowed slightly, the sort of bow people gave when they were pretending to show respect during negotiations, but then declared war a few weeks later. “My name is Asmodeum, and really,” they gave him a disapproving look, “I’d rather not fight with you. I heard you’ve defeated Somiaken and Vorath already, but I believe you and I could work something out without coming to blows.” They held their hands up briefly, but the way they watched him made it clear that their guard was still up. “So, tell me your name, now. Unless you’d prefer I just call you darling?”

Erebus very much did not want that, so he complied. “Erebus. But you didn’t really answer my question. What do you want, if not to fight me?”

Asmodeum sighed wistfully. “Well, I can tell that you’re the sort of person who’ll never agree to what I really want, but I believe something can be arranged. You see, I’ve been stuck here for Akumo knows how long with no toys to play with. So, I was thinking-”

“I-I’m not gonna be your toy,” Erebus choked, his throat feeling like it was closing up. 

“Ah, ah, ah.” Asmodeum wagged a finger. “Let me finish, dear. I could have my way with you quite easily, you know. It would be oh so effortless to drag you back into my domain proper and throw you into a pool of boiling water or lava and watch the show. However, I think your forced cooperation would make this a little more fun, and it would be nice if you behaved for me. So, if you let me do what I want with you, barring the most intimate acts, I’ll let you kill me once I’ve had my fill.”

“What happens if I don’t say yes?”

Asmodeum casually examined their nails. “I will take you by force and I will defile you.”

“D-defile?! You don’t mean…” Erebus quickly glanced down, and Asmodeum smiled wickedly.

“Oh, I do mean. If you let me play with you, I swear I won’t do anything of the sort. Call it an incentive. So come on, Erebus, get rid of your sword.” Erebus just tightened his grip on it, weighing his options. As much as he didn’t want to let this demon…play with him...did he really have any other options? He was exhausted, and there wasn’t much room in here for him to try and put up a proper fight. And more than anything, he really, really didn’t want to risk being...Despite the anxiety building in his chest, Erebus unbuckled the sword belt around his waist, setting it carefully on the ground.

“Fine. But if you so much as touch me there I’ll-I’ll make you regret it.” How would he do that? He wasn’t sure. But he just-he had to make it clear that he wasn’t surrendering. He was just…agreeing to play along. Just to get a break from fighting. He was okay with this. He’d be fine. He'd been through so much worse.

He'd be fine.

“I promise I won’t cross that boundary, don’t you fret.” Asmodeum walked over to him, kicking his sword out of reach as they took his hand. “First things first, you’re absolutely filthy. Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”

Erebus pulled his hand out of her grasp. “I mean, I-I can do that myself,” he muttered. Asmodeum raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sure you can, but I want to wash you, dear. And right now,” she grabbed his hand once more, “I get what I want.” They pulled him along into a bathroom, and he followed reluctantly, feeling an odd sense of familiarity in just going along with this sort of thing. Their threat was certainly a motivator, but that didn’t mean he was going to roll over completely on every little thing, right? He had to make it clear that he wasn’t happy with this, despite agreeing to it. She started filling up the bathtub with water, turning to him with a smile. “Let me strip you now.” 

“I-I’d rather-”

“Shhhh.” She placed a finger on his lips, her other hand starting to undo the ties on his shirt. “None of that, dear. I can’t get you all clean if you’re wearing these dirty clothes, now can I?” He looked away as they tugged his shirt off, hoping that they’d-nope, now they were going to try and take off his pants, too.

“You said you weren’t going to-to do that to me.”

“I won’t. But that doesn’t mean you get to keep your clothes on the whole time, you shy little thing. I just won’t touch.” Erebus stifled a whine as she pulled down his pants, and his underwear along with them. “There we go. You can get in now.” He did so, almost jumping into the warm water and crouching down, hugging his knees close and spreading his wings around himself protectively. They gently pushed his wings back, stroking his face as he glared at them with wide eyes. “There’s no use hiding when I’ve already seen everything, silly. I think I’m going to need to get these arms out of the way, hmmm?” They pulled out a pair of manacles, and Erebus’s stomach sank.

“Wait, I won’t resist just-just don’t-”

“Too late for that, Erebus.” She clamped them around his wrists, twisting the chain securely around the faucet. “Besides, you look absolutely darling like that, all helpless. Now, keep those wings out of the way or I’ll pierce them together.” Erebus’s wings sank in defeat, slowly moving back until they were behind him. There wasn’t any winning here, was there? “Good boy.” She grabbed a cup from the countertop and started using it to pour water on him, rinsing away some of the pieces of flesh stuck to his bloodied skin. After she lathered a washcloth with soap, she began to gently clean the dried blood off his face. He screwed his eyes shut, fists clenched as he tried to think about anything else. 

Even back when he was a prince, he’d hated being fussed over, preferring to take care of himself when he could. Asmodeum, however, seemed to have no concept of personal space, or just didn’t care. She had to work hard to get through the blood caked over most of his skin, leaning in close, starting with his face before switching to his hair. Their hands slid in, tenderly working through tangled bloody mats and massaging his scalp. He hated how nice it felt, how much it reminded him of the way Lythia always used to play with his hair, forcing himself to open his eyes and look at Asmodeum, to remind himself who was…

Lythia smiled at him sweetly, and Erebus felt his blood run cold. That wasn’t her, no matter what he saw, no matter how he felt. She wasn’t here. She was back home, probably still tending the palace gardens despite the change in management. Did she still think of him as she looked at all the places they used to laugh? Or could she not get the image of him screaming and sobbing up on that podium out of her mind, unable to remember any other version of him than the one he’d left her with? Maybe that’s what he deserved to be remembered as, since he’d hardly thought of her since that day, the memories too painful. 

Erebus shuddered when Asmodeum moved to his horns, which were always far more sensitive than they had any right to be. She seemed to be able to tell, continuing to stroke them long after they were clean, and as much as he wanted to ask them to stop, he was afraid it would only encourage them. At the very least, the disconnect between Lythia and his horns was enough to push the thoughts of her out of his mind, and Asmodeum changed back to their normal form.

Her hands finally slid lower, caressing his neck, fingers slipping under his collar, making sure the skin underneath was clean, pressing down against his throat every so often as they did so. It wasn't enough to really choke him, but the message was clear.

They moved onto his shoulders, his wings, his arms, his back. He caught their smile as they saw what his right arm really looked like, and her fingers traced his whip scars as they were uncovered. Dread started to pool in his stomach as she moved to his chest, scrubbing away, revealing-

“Oh, well isn’t this pretty.” They marveled at his brand, stroking the lines of the scar, pausing over his rapidly-beathing heart. “Too bad you’re already owned by someone else, huh? But I suppose they’re not here now, are they?” Erebus just bit his lip, refusing to make eye contact. The thought of his…of Neteri not being here hurt, and, try as he might, he couldn’t help but think of her, of the way she’d always protected him. He wondered how angry she’d get if she saw what was happening to him, or if she could feel now that someone besides her was touching him. He could imagine her bursting in, yelling at Asmodeum to get their hands off of him, unchaining him and letting him cover up before pulling him into a hug-wait wait what was he thinking she’d been his captor she’d hurt him and ripped him into pieces and kept him locked up but she'd promised to save him and he missed her.

“What’s wrong, darling? Is even this too much for you?” Asmodeum brushed away a tear he didn’t realize had been falling with her finger, her skin no longer red, but brown. He couldn't look her in the eye. Not while she wore that face. “Such a sensitive little thing.” Hearing those words in that voice was already bad enough. Erebus tugged at his chains, wishing he could rub away those stupid traitorous tears, because he wasn’t crying about Neteri or Asmodeum or any of this. 

Their hands plunged beneath the surface of the blood-clouded water now, and Erebus couldn't stop himself from tensing up as they scrubbed his stomach, glad the parts of him that were previously under clothes weren't as caked in blood as those that weren't. Still, there was enough to clean that she had an excuse for her hands to wander lower still, caressing his hips, his thighs, and now he was trembling, fists clenched, tears dripping even more steadily into the tepid, cloudy water, no one had ever touched him there, at least she was wearing her own face now, but please, please stay away from there, you said you wouldn't touch me there and if you do then why am I here why am I letting you do this why do I keep letting people hurt me if I just stood up for myself more if I wasn't such a coward maybe I'd still be-

"You're rather pathetic, aren't you?" Asmodeum mused as they cradled his face, turning him towards them. Erebus blinked away tears, just now realizing that they'd finished cleaning him, the tub already drained. He couldn't exactly argue, crying and shivering like he was, so he just swallowed and gave the tiniest nod as he pulled himself together, hoping it'd be enough to get them to move on.

With a satisfied smile, she unhooked his wrists from the faucet, but left the manacles on as she pulled him up and out of the tub. He tried to cover himself as best he could as they toweled him off, hoping they’d stop touching him or at least give him clothes soon. Thankfully, they did, handing him a small bundle, and upon unrolling it he found...a pair of shorts that barely reached his knees, and that was all. Once he’d put them on, she dragged him into another room and let go, crossing her arms. “Kneel.” 

“I don’t-” Asmodeum raised an eyebrow, and Erebus stopped himself. They were expecting him to obey their every little whim if he didn’t want to be...he knelt, staring at the floor. She circled him a few times, and he clenched his fists in his lap, hating how much of his body was on display. Not that she hadn’t already seen everything.

“You were just made to kneel, weren't you? Absolutely gorgeous." Erebus's face burned even hotter than before. All he could hope was that they'd be done with him soon, but he'd never specified how long this would go on for when he agreed to it, so this might last…He was such an idiot, why did he just go along with this without any negotiation?

Asmodeum stopped in front of him. "Well, what are you in the mood for, dear? Pain,” her hand slid under his chin, tilting it up, “or pleasure?”

“Please just-anything but-” he choked, and she just laughed.

“Anything, you say? Then, I think...I'm in the mood for this.” They grabbed his collar, yanking him up onto the nearby bed. Before he could even try to sit up they were on him, wrapping themselves around him, worming in between his shackled arms, forcing him to embrace her back. A shudder ran down his spine as her skin came into contact with his, her arms pinning him flush against her body, her legs tangling around his. “Have you ever been this close to someone, darling?” she whispered in his ear, their fingers stroking his hair.

“I-I, um, a few times but-” 

“Aw, and you’re still nervous.” Her hand ran down the back of his head, stopping at his collar. “It’s so cute how you still wear this. I’m sure you could get it off if you tried, so you must like having it on, huh? Do you miss your owner?”

“She’s not-I don’t-I just-it’s…” he screwed his eyes shut, “I can’t take it off, alright?!”

“Such a dutiful little pet-”

“I wasn’t h-her pet!” 

“You’re so adorable when you’re in denial.” They stroked his back, rubbing around the base of his wings. Erebus just opted for staring at the wall, hoping they wouldn't touch his horns. “Do you know how lust demons feed, my dear?”

“By eating…?”

“Well, of course, but not the same way you do. We feed off of humans, more specifically, their bodily fluids.” She smiled widely, showing off her fangs. “And I haven’t had a meal ever since being locked up in here. I normally get my fix a different way, but, to be considerate of you, innocent little boy,” they shifted until their lips were right next to the base of his neck, fingers pushing his collar out of the way, “I’ll settle for feasting on your blood.”

Her fangs sank into his neck, and he couldn’t help but gasp at the sudden pain. He tried to breathe in calmly through gritted teeth as she sucked on the holes in his flesh, drinking his blood. Soon enough, his ears started ringing, and lightheadedness crept in. He gripped the chain between his wrists just too feel something solid, glad that he was lying down, at least. By the time Asmodeum pulled away, licking droplets of blood from their lips, a dizzy haze had settled over Erebus. He closed his eyes, tears leaking out as she snuggled back into him, just hoping that this would all be over soon. In fact, maybe he would just...let the blackness take him...just for a little bit...so he didn’t have to be...awake…

Erebus’s mouth tasted like dried blood when he woke up, and Asmodeum was still wrapped around him tightly. She smiled when their eyes met. “Did you have a good little nap, my darling? I hope you don’t mind, but,” she gripped his chin, her thumb stroking his lips, “I had a little bit of fun with you while you were out of it.” A bit of...wait is that why his mouth tasted like-

“W-you-you can’t d-do that to me I-I don’t-” his voice broke, and he couldn’t breathe all of a sudden, no matter how many fast little breaths he sucked in, just get away, get away from me stop touching me don’t do that to me please please I don’t want that you can’t do that to me you can’t you can’t I never wanted that not from you not from anyone and now now now I-I’m-I’ve been-

He felt something solid press into his hands, and he realized that Asmodeum was standing in front of him, and that was his sword in his hands, he was sitting up now and that was his sword and Asmodeum was smiling they were holding out their arms to him they were ready they were ready they were laughing they were coughing up blood they were on the ground there was so much blood how much of it was his he wasn’t sure he didn’t know they reached up and he backed away he had to get away he couldn’t stay here a second longer she was dead she was dead she was already crumbling away and he had to go he wanted to rip off his own skin he could still feel her touching him where where where were his clothes where was the key to these manacles he had to go he-

Erebus dropped his sword. He fell to his knees. He buried his face in his hands. 

And he screamed.

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @galaxywhump @as-a-matter-of-whump

@mnmlover2002 @tears-and-lilies @yet-another-heathen @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @starnight-whump

@unicornscotty @thebewilderer @kixngiggles @itallstartedwithharry @inky-whump 

@redstainedsocks @lonesome--hunter @his-unspoken-words @susiequaz12 @its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog 

@whumpasaurus101 @patheticlittleguy @jadeocean46910 @whumpinggrounds @pumpkin-spice-whump 

@suspicious-whumping-egg @befuddled-calico-whump @whump-in-the-closet​ @pumpkinsncoffee​ @aryox​​

@vampiresprite

[lesbiansanemi]

Sometimes I just think about Soi Fon. Like that shit was so insane. Easily one of The characters of all time. You’re going to give me a woman who hates the physical manifestation of her soul because it’s loud and explosive and she doesn’t think it’s “proper” that it suits her, but it’s so obvious it does because she’s angry and stubborn and loud and explosive!!! And then the fact that she never ever calls upon that physical manifestation of her soul until things are so dire it’s practically that or death? The fact that in so many ways she lets her emotions build and build and build until they quite literally explode???? And then!!! AND THEN!!!! Add in that she hates her bankai because it’s “inappropriate” for an assassin… for her role as captain of the Stealth Force… the position she inherited from Yoruichi after she abandoned Soul Society for Urahara… She despises the physical manifestation of her explosive nature, the nature she hides until she can’t, just like she shoved down her feelings for Yoruichi, the betrayal, the hurt, the love, until she quite literally couldn’t anymore and it all came back up in a BANG!!! Like god… oh my god, no one will ever do it again and kubo did not deserve such a cool fucking character in the least

[sharknark]

⬇️rant about a really good hengren (reverse renheng) fic i read. link at the bottom give it a whirl

i've never read a fic so well-catered to my tastes before in my life and the best part is that i was so caught off guard by how good it was cuz the tags and summary had me like "right this is some omegaverse-esque, rawr XD mating shit"

but from the very first paragraph i realized it wasn't just ao3-typical possessive mating shit it was (dare i say) IN CHARACTER possessive mating shit. underappreciated dan feng lore is the two hearts shit, duty expects him to smother his own empathy and perform cruelty obediently (and that being in his dragon form literally numbs his empathy towards mortals) but then it's flipped around and he's criticized for being too heartless

there aren't a great many english fics that take advantage of the 'numbed empathy' thing, so this fic using that to explore the toxic codependency that drove dan feng to making yingxing immortal in the first place is so!

dan feng's dragon heart prioritizing it's own indulgence and power, his human heart screaming against it for empathy and restraint, but both hearts united in this possessive adoration of yingxing... dan feng is possessive to the point of harming his partner, forcing them to take his affection, inherently contradictive to the protective impulse to see the other unhurt.

dan feng makes yingxing immortal in a really sketchy operation, despite knowing that yingxing is literally defined by his pride in being a short-life. he wants yingxing to be with him so badly that he does the one thing that would hurt yingxing the most, too blinded by possession, this sickly overbearing affection, to empathetically respect yingxing's death.

yingxing lived cramming every second he could into his craft and his goals precisely because he has so much less time than all the immortal species around him, but when he's forced into immortality, his hands are scarred and ruined past the point of ever crafting again. he suddenly has so much time, all this time he would've cherished as a mortal, but is totally useless to him now that his purpose for living and passion is gone.

so there being a scene in this fic where dan feng is moping "yingxing doesn't wanna fuck because he's glued to his workshop", being followed up with a scene of dan heng fucking blade while kissing his scarred hand and crying that he's "so sorry", yeah no shit asshole, his dragon heart got what it wanted, blade has all the time in the world to fuck and nothing competing for his now limitless attention and no one's happy about it.

as arrogant about being a short-life as yingxing was, it really is compensation for the discrimination he faced for it. other immortals looked down on him, so having dan feng, THE top dog, be so deeply enamored with him stirred his own toxic codependent urges. he was so desperate to have dan feng's eternal regard that he's willing to die for him (as in the sedition), his death being the force cementing his place in dan feng's heart forever.

so the fic having yingxing ruminate on this, that he had hoped for dan feng to love him even centuries after he inevitably died, only for the fic to end with:

yeah yingxing... you left an impression... he made you immortal.... everyone's upset by this

(that's what makes dan heng forgetting blade was ever yingxing to begin with all the more painful because, you went and turned him immortal and when it backfired horrifically you went on and fucking forgot, bitch i'd be pissed to the point of centuries long bloody pursuit of vengeance too.)

here's the fic go read it and leave kudos and a comment, technically porn but i got so invested in the character study that part barely registered. also yeah if you hadn't realized already super dead-dove:

blah blah "renheng is toxic" sorry that's why i like it

[boxwinebaddie]

UNCLE NINA WRITES WEIRD JK STAN LETTERS!

hello benevolent angel people!

( because you're wonderful but bc you're doing gods work by supporting my dead fanfic from hell. c:’ )

so this is a lil...experimental? but bc i've been dabbling on that one ask large lore ask that set before kyle knows raven of crimson dawn is his stan, i've gotten very attached to writing the silly jersey letters to dead stan in his journal again. ( again, nina lore is that it's what a friend had me do when my first cat passed away.

i still write to her. <3 )

but this is just something i wrote to get back into the habit of writing again. i put it on docs and i used a font which...okay? tbh, i think looks exactly like i want jk's handwriting to look. like its very swirly, he is my calligraphy king. i didn't proof it bc i just wrote...all of it tonight like a weird crazy person.

also i realize jk sounds...a lot like me

— but he Is me, tbh?

like in some facets i did give him lil pieces of myself so he could grow into an uber tall thicc as hell academic hot jersey talk shit get hit boy.

( i also do think he's a lot goofier with stan in his little letters esp since he doesn't think that anyone is going to read them they are just his lil vent space. let it out king! )

as for the timeline...i think it's pre!rm bonus content? like i dropped a little context about stuff that happened before the fic, but i think it's probably written anywhere in the last 1-2 years of rm before kyle went to that crimson dawn concert. i'm not sure what compelled me to write it i just...really like vulnerable jersey just being a jersey dirtbag but like kneeling by the stan shrine and asking for light.

speaking of...as far as triggers go. mostly the spelling is just bad, help, but jersey does talk a lot about stan dying and is very...distressed about it. he's also...really depressed and is not at the moment coping super well, but is reaching out for help. <3 always reach out for help when you need it. i didn't mention anything specific, but he does just mention thinking he's not a good person, feeling ugly, unworthy, lost, etc...TW FOR HIM BEING SO VULNERABLE AND CUTE ALSO.

he is...my secret loverboy prince.

he is my lo-...

my L-

anyways...ROLL CLIP!

[owl-with-a-pen]

So, I have reached the final episode of season 6 of my Supergirl rewatch and I just have to reiterate: they did Nyxly so dirty.

I still don't understand what they were thinking. Nyxly is the first person to pass the Courage Totem's test, she's inundated with empathy from the Humanity Totem, she's completely open with the Truth Totem and is granted access to the Love Totem by choosing the life of a child over her own quest for power.

So, why did they just bung her back in the Phantom Zone!?

It wasn't a satisfying ending, it wasn't even a character arc - it was a circle! She ended up exactly where she started. Sure, Lex's hubris being his own downfall made sense for him, but him being in the second leg of season 6 at all felt so unnecessary that that wasn't satisfying, either.

Here's how I like to imagine this story arc going, because I'm never going to have the time or energy to do anything with this idea besides writing it down like this:

So, we've got Humanity, Hope, Courage, Dreams, Love, Truth and Destiny. 7 Totems. 7 Super Friends. Say, each Totem was tied specifically to a member of the Super Friends and so we're given an episode per Totem exploring a member of the team and their unique relationship to what that core element represented for them. (They sort of did this in the show but only for a couple of the Totems and they never really committed to it as a theme).

Narratively speaking, the Super Friends are working together to beat the trials, which is exactly what a superhero team should be all about. Together, they represent the best the planet has to offer.

Except, that's not the point of the trials. To gather the AllStone, you have to do it alone. And who's doing it alone? Nyxly. Nyxly bares her soul to these Totems, she gains most of them independently without cheating and the further along she gets into the trials, the more she's able to overcome the very reason for her pain and anger that led her down this path to begin with.

The Super Friends aren't looking for power, that was never their goal, and so of course they aren't playing by the rules to gain it, they're doing it in a way that everyone equally shares a part of the burden and so the effect isn't as intense. For Nyxly, though, by gaining all 7 Totems and going through those associated trials, I like to think that by the end of her arc, she willingly gives up that power.

And maybe that's the whole point of the AllStone. Only someone worthy of power should gain it, and the only people worthy of power are the ones that don't want it. The AllStone isn't meant to be a weapon or even a tool used by an individual, it's supposed to be for the whole world to share. And so the very mechanics of the trial will either fail those corrupted by their thirst for power long before they get a taste, or teach someone the true values of their own humanity by fairly passing every test.

I know the show wanted to go out with a bang and a big-stakes CGI battle with all the trimmings, but Nyxly was never designed as a villain. She was hurt and angry, but that never made her evil. She was a fifth dimensional imp, all she ever did was cause mischief, and so having her face her own reality through the trials would have been a major grounding factor for her.

To have the final villain of the show willingly give up their power not because it was beaten out of them, but simply because they decided to feels right to me. They built up the stakes so high in this season to make Nyxly out as the most powerful villain they'd ever faced -- and so maybe the only way to beat her was for her to decide that the fight was no longer worth fighting.

I dunno, it just would've been nice if the AllStone had actually meant something at the heart of it, and that Nyxly actually had a satisfying end to her story that made sense for her character.

Oh well. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[disposal-blueeee]

ah. yes. this guy

he lives in my mind rent free so i just really had to draw him

(again)

i could spend hours just rambling about how much i love him i'm fuckibg tired

idk the thought of him just wearing cool stuff wouldn't leave my mind and one day i was just sketching things this is the result XP

jake by zarla-s

[pastafossa]

hey pasta! I don’t know if someone has asked this already but is TRT gonna go into Born Again or end at season 3?

So that's where I'm not sure! The current outline is as such:

All Major Arcs (including Cyrus James/Project Beagle fallout arc and psychic abilities arcs): scheduled to wrap up a bit after the end of S3 so that Matt and Jane's arcs/development neatly dovetail together. This will mark the official end of TRT's main fic.

Special Additional Arcs (chaptered fics not attached to main fic but still TRT canon, taking place after end of main fic) in no particular order: Endgame/The Snap arc, Spider-Man: NWH arc, Spoiler Removed arc, tentative She Hulk Shenanigans arc.

Oneshot Arcs: various domestic fluff arcs, interactions with major MCU events, a 'What Their Life Is Like When Old Cause GD It They're Going To Live To Old Age And Will Have Rocking Chairs' arc, a SINGLE take it or leave it 'What If?' fic of something funny with a possible daughter cause damn I had this idea for a hilarious scene and it won't leave me alone

Now, those are what are planned in the outline, and the main event with Project Beagle tie-ins and plotlines and all of that is something I'm still planning to end just after S3 because I really do want to have a finish line for that, and I feel like dragging that all out for Born Again wouldn't work for the... events that are going to happen, without saying too much. Once that's wrapped up, that's when you're going to see TRT finally marked as 'complete' on AO3, though there'll be more fics set in that universe (see special additional arcs and oneshot arcs) that I'll mark as in the Devil and Hound series along with drabbles on tumblr.

Once we're past that official endpoint and those special arcs, though, things get fluid and murky since when I was outlining all the major plotlines, there was no Daredevil: Born Again, nor was Matt even in the MCU officially (which is why Spider-Man pops in way sooner in TRT than he meets Matt in the MCU) and I specifically set up Jane's plotline to bookend with Matt's so their growth twined together and they both finally found peace around the same time. Outside that, I'd planned some shorter chaptered stories in the series post-mainline TRT like the Snap arc that I may now adjust (since it sure is looking like Matt was left behind for the snap) but nothing on the level of TRT's main plotline which is absolutely massive and took me years to fully outline and construct before coming back from hiatus in 2021 and pumping out chapters (Happy six year anniversary to TRT on Sept 15!).

ALL THAT BEING SAID.

I do have plans to write stuff for TRT's take on Born Again because I'm 100% married to writing for Matt at this point and there's no possible way I won't want to do something once I'm being fed Charlie!Matt scenes again. I'm not sure what those plans are just yet - I kinda wanna wait and see what happens in Born Again in case it sparks something. But I also want to make sure that no matter what I do, there's some sort of strong original plotline so that, much like mainline TRT, we'll be able to weave in and out of canonical events (especially since things like the Snap or a wedding or Jane and Matt's friendship with Peter will alter canon). I don't think I'm going to do something quite as huge as TRT's main plotline again, mostly because it takes a TON of time and work, and I'm planning to take the original TRT elements and morph them into an original series fit for publishing (different enough that I can leave TRT up for everyone to read, cause at this point the fic's part of DD fandom culture and I have no plans to take that away) which will also take a ton of time. But I'm definitely rattling my brain around, looking at different plotlines I could do knowing what I know about the ending, hunting for loose ends or canonical threads that I can weave in with TRT's world and create something new!

Then again, I never would have said I'd make something as massive as TRT before I started, either, so who knows.

So in short: YES, there will be TRT events for Born Again even if it's not as elaborate as TRT! I just have no idea what those will be yet. Fortunately, TRT mainline's only a little over halfway done so I've got time to plan!

[essektheylyss]

Regarding your tags on the Matt Mercer note post out of honest confusion: what is so bad about Microsoft Word? I know it's very unpopular but for me it has always done the job. Also, is there something you would recommend instead? (Sincerely, a DM whose notes also consist of printed out Word docs and who would love to improve upon their notetaking)

Haha okay just to clarify my loathing of Microsoft Word is very much a joke, and if Word works for you for note-taking, definitely keep using it!

That being said, for explanatory purposes I do like my notes pretty separated out, and I find that Word is pretty finicky with formatting even compared to a lot of other word processors, though most of them are pretty limited in that regard anyway. (If I was really going to go nuts with it, I'd learn Adobe Illustrator, but I'm just not that concerned about it.) So my real issue with Word is how the notes are organized.

I personally really like Scrivener for both writing and dnd notes, because I can separate things out into individual "documents" within the same project file and organize things further into stackable folders, and that helps my brain out so much.

I also got a subscription for World Anvil recently when they were having a sale, and I haven't used it for dnd yet but I do want to get more into it because it seems very promising in the same way, in that it also has templates that are built for worldbuilding in particular. However, I haven't used it enough to know whether or not it's overkill for my purposes, because I have also found that there's a very fine line of how much constraint in organization I can really handle.

But I absolutely must reiterate that if you find that Word works for you, and you aren't looking for any additional functionality, please do keep doing what you're doing, and fuck what I (or anyone else online) think about it!